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• customer Service Representative - Luxury Retail ^\)^link\) TTEC · Remote in Texas+20 locations non-tech, customer-support
  
• Learning Experience Designer ^\)^link\) Aledade design, project-management, teaching, assistant, front-end, html, full-time, usa
  
• business Development Representative - Eastern Time Zone Remote ^\)^link\) Heavy Hammer · Remote sales-marketing, non-tech, sales
  
• sales Representative - Remote ^\)^link\) Outsourced Doers · Remote sales-marketing, non-tech, sales
  
• staff Writer, Advisory Board Research - Remote ^\)^link\) UnitedHealth Group · Remote in Pittsburgh sales-marketing, non-tech, copywriting
  
• digital Marketing : Special Projects ^\)^link\) Lands' End · Remote in Dodgeville sales-marketing, non-tech, copywriting, copywriting-art, remote, part-time
  
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• global Relationship Manager - Ip Transit & Network Sales Experience ^\)^link\) Hurricane Electric · Remote sales-marketing, non-tech, sales
  
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• spanish Medical Interpreter ^\)^link\) AMN Language Services · Remote non-tech, work-from-home
  
• consumer Content Writers ^\)^link\) Codeless, Interactive LLC · Remote sales-marketing, non-tech, copywriting
  
• experienced Software Developer100% Remotemust Be Awesome! ^\)^link\) Infinity Software Development, Inc · Remote engineering
  
• Senior Manager Of Engineering ^\)^link\) Narvar tech, javascript, ruby-on-rails, ruby, architecture, cto, full-time, usa
  
• graphic Designer Ii - ^\)^link\) Cella · Remote design, remote
  
• Global Accounts Customer Success Manager ^\)^link\) BetterUp sales-marketing, project-management, product-marketing, recruiting, full-time, usa
  
• Employment Counsel ^\)^link\) Aledade non-tech, risk-management, attorney, assistant, recruiting, full-time, usa
  
• backend Developer ^\)^link\) Remote Jobs · Remote engineering, remote
  
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• developer Sql Reports Hybrid/remote ^\)^link\) Buck Knives · Remote in Post Falls engineering
  
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• junior Software Developer ^\)^link\) Capital Good Fund · Remote engineering
  
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• Product Design Manager ^\)^link\) BetterUp design, product-design, user-experience, product-marketing, recruiting, full-time, usa
  
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• junior Web Developer ^\)^link\) Victory · Remote engineering
  
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• Strategic Marketing Analyst ^\)^link\) Avantor sales-marketing, strategic-marketing, web-analytics, multimedia, full-time, usa
  
• designer ^\)^link\) BuzzShift · Remote in Dallas design, remote
  
• sales Support Specialist - Remote, Evening Shift ^\)^link\) James+James · Remote sales-marketing, non-tech, sales
  
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• Edict Internship Coordinator ^\)^link\) Elemental Excelerator · $0 - $22 · Hawaii, US non-tech, tech, engineering, sales-marketing, contractor
  
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• marketing Manager Swine ^\)^link\) Cargill · Remote in Wayzata sales-marketing, non-tech, marketing, open-to-remote
  
• senior User Experience Designer -- Remote ^\)^link\) Corporate · Remote in Missouri sales-marketing, non-tech, marketing
  
• market Intelligence Manger ^\)^link\) Weyerhaeuser · Remote in Washington sales-marketing, non-tech, marketing
  
• sales Professional ^\)^link\) Ellingson Companies · Remote in St. Louis sales-marketing, non-tech, sales
  
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• outside Sales Representative Digital Marketing Automotive ^\)^link\) C-4 Analytics · Remote in Las Vegas sales-marketing, non-tech, marketing
  
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• Events Manager ^\)^link\) Nearmap tech, project-management, full-time, anywhere
  
• staff Auditor - 100% Remote or In Irvine Office Must Be Local To So Cal ^\)^link\) Zimmerman Associates Inc · Remote in California non-tech, accounting
  
• social Media Marketing ^\)^link\) HCM · Remote sales-marketing, non-tech, social-media
  
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• graphic Designesocial Media Content Creator ^\)^link\) ApplicantPro · Remote design
  
• senior Operations Accountant ^\)^link\) RE/MAX, LLC · Remote non-tech, accounting
  
• sales Representative - Medical Alert Devices ^\)^link\) Medical Guardian LLC · Remote in United States+1 location sales-marketing, non-tech, sales, remote
  
• customer Success Manager, Bilingual Spanish - Austin or Houston, Texas ^\)^link\) Age of Learning · Remote in Texas non-tech
  
• Governance, Risk, and Compliance Analyst ^\)^link\) Sword engineering, risk-management, security, full-time, anywhere, grc
  
• People Operations Specialist ^\)^link\) Nearmap non-tech, payroll, full-time, anywhere
  
• senior Accountant ^\)^link\) Bookkeeping Express · Remote non-tech, accounting
  
• Marketing Automation Analyst ^\)^link\) Aledade sales-marketing, salesforce, project-management, sql, customer-experience, assistant, full-time, usa
  
• agency Channel Marketing Manager ^\)^link\) Allstate · Remote in Chicago sales-marketing, non-tech, marketing
  
• Teacher Fellow ^\)^link\) Elemental Excelerator · $0 - $3,000 · Hawaii, US non-tech, sales-marketing, contractor
  
• Product Operations Manager ^\)^link\) Binance tech, operations-management, product-management, project-management, program-management, trading, full-time, anywhere
  
• remote Graphic Designer ^\)^link\) AmTab Manufacturing · Remote design
  
• cust Svc Support Rep-11am-8pm Est Remote ^\)^link\) Labcorp · Remote in McLeansville non-tech, customer-support, patient-customer-service
  
• full Stack PHP Developer ^\)^link\) Togetherwork · Remote engineering
  
• remote! Healthcare Customer Service Expert - Phone Intake ^\)^link\) CareCentrix · Remote non-tech, customer-support
  
• commercial Insurance Sales Representative ^\)^link\) Pharmacists Mutual Insurance Company · Remote in Milwaukee sales-marketing, non-tech, sales
  
• manager, Content Marketing ^\)^link\) Bright Horizons Family Solutions · Remote in Broomfield sales-marketing, non-tech, copywriting, remote
  
• [hiring] Migrations Specialist @discourse ^\)^link\) Discourse · Full-time · Worldwide engineering, software-development, full-time
  
• magento Consultant ^\)^link\) InterSources Inc · Remote engineering
  
• copywriter ^\)^link\) Clutch Group, Inc. · Remote sales-marketing, non-tech, copywriting
  
• Manager, Devops Engineering ^\)^link\) 1Password engineering, devops, customer-experience, aws, cloud, database-administration, full-time, usa-canada
  
• [hiring] Senior Pay and Benefits Specialist @thinkific ^\)^link\) Thinkific · Canada non-tech, finance-legal, full-time
  
• Major Gifts Officer ^\)^link\) Marijuana Policy Project · $90,000 - $140,000 · DC, US non-tech, sales-marketing, tech, engineering
  
• customer Service Representative ^\)^link\) Premera Blue Cross · Remote non-tech, customer-support
  
• lead Product Marketing Manager ^\)^link\) CPA.com · Remote in Washington sales-marketing, non-tech, marketing
  
• marketing Assistant ^\)^link\) Angeleno Smile · Remote sales-marketing, non-tech, marketing
  
• client Account Manager - Remote ^\)^link\) U.S. Bank National Association · Remote non-tech, customer-support
  
• inbound Contact Center Agent ^\)^link\) InflectionCX, Inc. · Remote non-tech, customer-support, u-s-remote
  
• manager, Social Media - Thought Leadership ^\)^link\) W2O Group · Remote in New York sales-marketing, non-tech, social-media
  
• Senior Devops ^\)^link\) Sword engineering, devops, php, javascript, docker, golang, full-time, anywhere
  
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• junior Developer ^\)^link\) Silverback Strategies · Remote engineering
  
• tibetan Remote Interpreter ^\)^link\) Linguistica International · +4 locations non-tech
  
• manufacturing Sales Manager ^\)^link\) PROFORM GROUP INC · Remote in Muskogee sales-marketing, non-tech, sales
  
• health Care Benefits Customer Support Specialist ^\)^link\) BenefitMall · Remote non-tech, customer-support
  
• customer Care Associate ^\)^link\) FRANCESCA'S · Remote non-tech, customer-support, houston, tx
  
• manager, Online Customer Experience ^\)^link\) Home Depot / THD · Remote in Atlanta engineering, remote
  
• sales Support Representative, Medical - Remote ^\)^link\) Henry Schein · Remote in South Carolina sales-marketing, non-tech, sales
  
• accountant Ii ^\)^link\) Health & Human Services Comm · Remote in Austin non-tech, accounting
  
• key Account Manager, Dso ^\)^link\) Ivoclar Vivadent, Inc. · Remote in Amherst sales-marketing, non-tech, marketing
  
• sales Representative ^\)^link\) ON Services · Remote sales-marketing, non-tech, sales
  
• [hiring] Big Data Engineer @plain Concepts ^\)^link\) Plain Concepts · Germany engineering, data, full-time
  

Hello friends! These are the open remote positions I've found that were published today. See you tomorrow! Bleep blop 🤖

tw - sh/ sa
ever since i was 8 years old i wanted to die so badly, though at the time i was being sexually abused by countless people at the time so i guess that would’ve encouraged that thought but right now i’m trapped, my friends are horrible to me, they hang out people i tell them hurt me like this one guy who groped me on the bus when i was 11 they keep talking to him, and i have no one else to go to when they go up to him at school so i just say i need the bathroom and cry there, also my friend told my crush i liked him even though i told her that if he ever rejected me i would kill myself so i would rather not know his response she did it anyway, lucky he didn’t really give out much of a response and just said something irrelevant and ran away embarrassed but that same friend also humiliated me in front of him in role call saying i called him so big he could fit inside of my little sisters suitcase (the suit case was very wide and was probably 4’11 long) when i never said that, all i said was that my sisters suit case is so big a person could fit in there but she made it seem like i was calling him fat. the person i said i’d kill myself over him not liking me due to him being the only thing i live for she decides to say i called him fat. whenever i try hanging out with someone else other then her she gets mad, saying she feels sad that i don’t hang out with her and saying she feels left out and i’m a people pleaser so it’s really hard to stay away from someone and tell them to go away i just usually do whatever people want me to do it’s not something i can handle, also i’m not even safe when o go home my dad has bipolar and he used to not take his pills so he’d scream at me and my sisters, one time he smashed my older sisters phone and threw metal pipes at her at beated her then threw shit down the stairs breaking the window and one time when i was getting back from primary (elementary) school i saw him grab my dog and throw it outside a open door which the dog got his head stuck on the fence and almost choked to death and other shit he did i can’t remember but he takes his pills now just in terrified of him and my mom used to hit me whenever i did something bad but now she just yells at me, i think she still very badly just wants to hit me again because she said she doenst hit me anymore because it illegal and she really tries her hardly to just yell at me for every small tiny thing i do no matter what she will try to yell and ridicule every small thing i do, i can’t move, think, breathe correctly near her it’s gotten to the point where i get genuine heart dropping fear asoon as i hear foot steps coming forming the stairs , anything im doing i just drop it, quickly clean it all up and run to my room and wait for her to go back upstairs . i can’t even go to my grandma because she’s even worse one time i was at her house and i was extremely sick i couldn’t move or eat properly because of how much it hurts my body and my throat especially it hurt way too much i was crying from trying to eat and my grandma udndt care she just said it was all my fault for ruining the trip( i get holidays when i go to my grandmas house because she actually takes me outside unlike my parents) all my grandma did was give me pain killers and let me sleep for hours in her bed not even awake for probably 20 minutes i just slept for the entire day and entire night . i’m safe no where my most safest place is the library or the toilets at my school because in the library and toilets no one bothers me, looks at me, hit me or screams at me there i can be alone without constant stress but atm that’s the only thing i have and i only have 2 more years of school so it’ll be stripped away from me . i don’t know how to get a job no one will help me with it and i don’t understand it. i’m not covid vaccinated either because my mom thinks i’m not worth it and it’s too expensive. my mom also doenst care for a single problem i have i keep telling her i see shadows of people in the corners of my eye or even afew times someone very clearly just with a weird non human face or they disappear when i blink or turn my head away, she thinks i make it up and doenst care she thinks i do it for attention,i hate myself aswell i think i’m extremely ugly i have so many pimples i just want to rip my face off atp i hate my face i just want to be pretty honestly i jsut want atleast for my crush to like me maybe you know to have just someone to like me but i feel and look too ugly i think . i don’t understand why i can’t have anything i can’t live a day without my friend embarrassing me RIGHT INFRONT OF YHE MAN I WOULD KILL MYSELF OVER I TELL THEM THIS AND THEY JUST DONT FUCKING CAREEE when i told them to stop fucking doing thsi shit and al they did was roll their fucming eyes and give me an annoyed face like what the fuck did i do to deserve this fucking life I JUST WANT TO DIE ALREADY I HATE THIS SHIT WHY CANT I BE FUCKING AHPPY I AHVE YEHDJJHSSVUO
i cry almost every night just thinking of being in a friend group like in year 6 when i had a friend who used to actually care and listen to me. but they never come to school anymore. they can’t handle school and just don’t come anymore.
i have many self harm scars all over my body because of this one time this guy i used to date for in year 6. i got pimples and said he doenst want to date me anymore because i got ugly. i want to die
i will kill myself im sorry if you can’t read some of this im typing this at 8pm while i wait for my mom to go into her car for work so i can go to the kitchen and eat food im happy if anyone even reads the title
i’m so scared of killing my self but death seems to relaxing.. finally getting to sleep without loud noises and alarms i really wish i could die in my sleep so peacefully and not messy but i can’t just do that and i heard overdosing hurts so i don’t know what to do i just want and need to die i have nothing i just want peace

"About time!" Lu t'Cca thundered at her. "Split find hiding spot!
Najia backpedaled, giving the irate Split prisoner plenty of room to get past without coming into arms' length of her. At least he seemed to get that this was a prison break, and he made no move for her or her firearm, darting well clear of her, and out from the cell block.
Axiom's voice cut the sudden quiet that was otherwise punctuated only by her racing heart. "While you two were chatting, I've found a way to temporarily disable security in the hangar. That's where we'll hitch our ride. Head for the second level; the Ministry seems to have installed more switches. They'll require some adjustment, but I know you love a good puzzle." Najia snorted. She did, in fact, love a good puzzle, but breaking out of a prison was not the time to indulge in that. Usually. Unless one looked at the prison as the puzzle. She shook her head, huffing, and drew her pistol again. There was no marked pathway this time, but she made better time; it was reckless, but she jogged, since the place was seemingly totally unguarded. And, if it wasn't, chances were that Lucca would run into the guards first, and she'd hear the struggle ahead. She passed the lift, glancing towards it, and hurrying past in the other direction she hadn't been yet, coming to a door. Slowing, she closed enough with it that it opened automatically.
Najia let out a huff; Lu t'Cca was on the other side, but so was Axiom. She stepped forward, and looked from Axiom, who nodded to her, to Lucca, who snarled. "Creature reveal Split hiding spot! Creature nothing better to do?" This is a hiding spot? Najia shook her head; the two of them were literally standing in the middle of an intersection, in front of an airlock with two branches off on either side. She huffed, looking at Lu t'Cca. "Hey, Mellerd said -"
"Split not talk about friend-foes!" Lucca ranted. "Kriss went against family! Betrayal followed petty betrayal! Way of Windfall, yes. Way of some Split, maybe, but not how real warriors do revenge!" He made a guttural sound of anguish, shaking his head vehemently. Kris? He was on a first-name basis with her? The fact that Ace had spoken so frankly of xenosexual encounters popped into her head, the constant talk of betrayal, pettiness, personal matters, and suddenly it was obvious; somehow, this was personal. Personal; and none of her damn business. She held her hand up placatingly, holstering her other pistol, trusting to Axiom's physical presence to keep peace between her and Lucca. "Fine. I'll leave you to it," she said. "Split thought so," Lu t'Cca spat, looking back to Axiom. She looked to Axiom as well. "Switches, Wildcard. Get to it."
Najia nodded, and darted down the left-hand branch of the intersection, fuming all the while. It ran into a dead-end, and she uttered "ah fuck," turning and sprinting in the other direction, slaloming between Maestro and Lucca. At the end, she dead-ended there, and exasperated raised her voice, "the hell?!" Back in the middle, she examined the airlock carefully; she could see that it connected to nothing, which is why she discounted it previously. Carefully she moved into the airlock, her hand on her pistol just in case Lucca tried to kill her by cycling it, but he and Axiom seemed to be in the process of discussing old times.
Exasperated, Najia stepped back out of the airlock. "Axiom, where are these buttons you're talking about? How are we supposed to get out of here?" "Er..." Axiom blinked, tri-ocularly, at her, and looked around. He looked at his datapad. "They should be... Through..." He let out a discontent rumble. "Oh my. That is not obvious on a computer systems diagram schematic." "They're on the other side of the frigging airlock," Najia said. "You're probably already aware that humans can't survive in vacuum, let alone maneuver in it, right?" She snorted, her sarcasm at least getting a sheepish shuffle on his long legs out of Axiom. "Can we get out the way we came back in? Even if it means abandoning the Raven?"
"No," Axiom said gravely. "The tampering I did to activate the cell block doors will be caught by someone sooner or later - probably later than sooner, but sooner if we try to leave the cell block." "Split has been implanted with a tracking device," Lucca growled. "It will raise quite the ruckus when Split leave the cell block!" "If we're leaving by... Unconventional mechanisms, that will be no trouble," Axiom noted. "But if we enter the lift, it will lock down and security will be summoned immediately."
"Outstanding," Najia huffed. "Let me double-check something, see if I can think of something." She turned and left the way she had come from. She bypassed the lift; she had no intention of simply bailing on them. But now, she had two options. Neither was good, but one was significantly less good, so she hoped the other option worked. She opened a channel to Boso Ta. "Boso Ta, I hope to hell you've been listening in." "I have, Assistant!" Boso Ta's voice came through loud and clear. "You are in quite the conundrum. I hope you see a manner in which I may be able to extricate you, for I do not." "You and the Professor have been upgrading teleporters with the ability to upgrade themselves. To do so, you've been transporting equipment, right?" "Hai!" Professor Nakagawa's voice cut in. Clearly he was on the line. "This capability is within our grasp. What is your proposal, Takio-San?" "Can you teleport my EV suit to me?"
There was silence for a long few moments which felt like an eternity. "Potentially," Boso Ta broke the silence. "Have it placed in one of our lifts." "I'll get right on that," Marta cut in on the line. Najia smiled to hear her voice. "Any other requirements?" "If this will work, we will need very precise measurements," Professor Nakagawa said. "The teleporter is more your project than mine, Boso Ta. My thought is that it will require at least three triangulating vessels, and a beacon, and a substantial amount of open space." "Will an empty cell block do for that," Najia asked, hustling down the corridor. "It should yes... Yes! That will work." Rei Stringer cut in on the call, and Najia blinked as she saw Rei's comm-code. "I can arrange the fly-by," she said. It had been awhile since Najia had heard from the friend she had left in charge of the Eighteen Billion Terran-tech construction supplies factory, and generally, in charge of Eighteen Billion affairs. "There's a patrol of Katana in the area already, it won't look suspicious if they do a swing-by of Wormwood Scrubs."
Najia set her datapad down on the floor in the middle of the cell block. "I put my datapad down on the floor. Is that beacon enough," she asked. "Hai, Takio-San," the aged professor's voice informed her. "But I would endeavor to be in another room when the teleport takes place. This is... Highly experimental." "Vacating the room," Najia said, sprinting out into the hallway and down it. "Tell me when it's gonna happen."
"In... About twenty seconds," Boso Ta informed her. "You might want to cover your ears, assistant." Najia didn't even bother to complain about being called 'Assistant' again, she simply crouched and closed her eyes, covering her ears and tried to become one with the railing. She counted to thirty, then opened her eyes. "Did anything happen?" "Your EV suit and EMU aren't in the lift anymore," Marta said to her. "Better go check."
Najia did, and she laughed heartily. Her hardshell carapace EV suit and EMU were sitting on the floor of the cell block. "A perfect teleport! I didn't even hear anything." "Fantastic," Boso Ta said. "You had best hurry, Assistant."
One fast donning later, Najia opened the door to where Axiom and Lucca were still standing around, chatting like old gossips. They both started when they saw her, and she held her hand up. "Easy, guys, it's me." She was hauling her EMU with her. "Split wonders where creature was hiding that," Lu t'Cca said, pointing at her. "Ancient secrets," Najia flippantly answered, as she hefted her EMU into the airlock, and sat in it, strapping in. "Right, let's do this." Reaching up, Najia slapped the airlock cycle button. The door behind her hissed shut; air was evacuated. Her suit indicated a total drop of external pressure, and the airlock's A-grav let go, letting her float free, and so she pushed off the floor.
"Excellent!" Axiom crowed at her, over the comm. "Level 2 is right through there. That exhaust fan may impede your movements, but it won't make our mission impossible. See those alcoves? There's where I'd hide if I were you, whenever the fan is blowing at full speed."
Exhaust fan? I'm in vacuum! Najia carefully maneuvered out. She was in vacuum and microgravity; but she was also inside a large, cylindrical space. Below her was something like a massive fuse-box with a big holographic turret outline, and she jetted down to examine it, but could see no obvious way to tamper with it without most likely setting off major alarms, so she looked back up - just as a synthesized alert klaxxon sounded.
I hate this place, Naija thought, as she saw a fan at the top of the cylinder spin up. At a guess she thought, perhaps it was something like an exhaust, which struck as horrifically wasteful in space, but she could only grit her teeth, watching it spin. At the bottom of the cylindrical space, she only felt the slightest of buffeting; it might have been substantially stronger closer to the top. I am very confused, very frustrated, and I just want to get the hell out of here, she thought. She was seriously considering revisiting her first plan, which had been to simply teleport herself, Axiom and Lucca to Ace's ship.
But now, though, she was pissed, and she wanted to poke something spiteful in Mellerd's eye herself. So she jetted to the top of the cylinder, looking around. As she did, Axiom popped up in her comms. "These airlocks are shut, so you'll need to find a way to bypass their locks." She responded with only a quick "roger," looking around. One airlock, contrary to Axiom's words, was hanging open, but the lights next to it were red. She tried it anyway; but for once, Axiom was spot-on. The airlock door might have been open, but its functions were locked out, the panel totally nonresponsive. She returned below, and looked around; there was an open airlock opposite Axiom and Lucca, so she tried it, and it worked for her automatically.
"Well, let's see what's down this way," Najia muttered to herself, slipping out of her EMU and leaving it in the lock. She unholstered the pistol that was now clamped to her hardshell-clad thigh, and started to look around again.
To her surprise, she found only another cell block - it was a dead end! She was about to hiss in frustration, when she heard someone call to her. "You there! You! Hey! You are not supposed to be here!" Najia turned to face the Teladi voice, her pistol half-raised, when she saw that the figure in question was imprisoned. She lowered her aim to the floor, and appraoched the bars. Standing within was a Teladi, who looked rather forelorn. Najia's shoulders slumped. Well, this is awkward, she thought. When the Teladi seemed to realize she wasn't a guard, she started to ask, "Oh please, please, please! You cannot leave me here! I am friends with Urgu... Ugusa... I can help you make profitsss! I promise."
Najia sighed at the pathetic display, but she understood the Teladi's desire for freedom; though, on the balance, she also had no idea what this Teladi had done to become imprisoned. Knowing Kriss Mellerd, it was a total crap-shoot; she might be a real scum-bag, or she might be being shaken down. Axiom cut in on her. "I sympathize with the little lizard, really I do, but we cannot compromise this mission in the name of charity."
Najia huffed out a sigh, and looked around. Frustratedly, she slapped the door panel on the imprisoned Teladi's cell, and to her surprise - and the prisoner's surprise - it opened. The prisoner looked around, confusedly, and Najia was glad that her mirrored helmet hid her gaze. "That's the best I can do," she said, resignedly. "You'll have to effect your own escape from here, if you can. Good luck." Turning, she huffed back into the airlock, slapping the button to cycle it as the Teladi prisoner looked around in tentative confusion, taking a few steps out of her cell.
Najia pulled her EMU's straps back on. "Well, that was a fucking bust," she snarled. "I'm about to start lasering shit," she muttered, floating back into the massive vacuum cylinder, and back up towards the locked airlocks. She found a third floor of airlocks, but they only offered some shelter from the fans starting up. After waiting that, frustratedly she flew back out again, and started looking around. "Axiom, there aren't any switches here!" "My diagrams say there are switches, Wildcard. Look more carefully - and swiftly."
Najia let out a guttural growl of frustration, and switched to her cutting laser. Giving in to a pique of frustration, she hit her Mk.2 thrusters, blowing past level 1 to the sub-level, coming up level with the big fuse-box. "Right, let's see what this does," she said with a snarl, and targeted her suit's cutting laser on the big set of what looked like fuses.
She blazed a neat line down the middle of them, and, gratifyingly, the 'Turrets' hologram switched to a big red repair icon... She looked around for a moment. Nothing happened. Najia smirked. "On the one hand, this place is frustrating, confusing, and I kind of want to blow it up out of spite by now. But on the other hand, the gross criminal negligence on display is really working in my favor. Fuck it. Lasers for everything," she said, snarling and going back up the shaft. There were a bunch of unmarked panels, and, giving in to the frustration she felt earlier - which she had barely restrained herself from allowing herself to hold Lu t'Cca at gunpoint - she started lasering the panels like a schoolgirl hooligan on a vandalism spree.
"Your new laser is low-powered, but if you keep it aimed at the lock, it will break eventually," Axiom said. Najia blinked. New laser? This is my laser and I've had it for a while, and... Oh, piss on this! She laughed, however, as she saw that one of the panels had indeed fractured.
One deeply-cathatic vandalism spree later, every panel had been opened, and had revealed that inside the two panels nearest the top-level airlocks were two further, smaller panels, with similar mechanisms. With the fan starting up again, Najia took shelter in one of the alcoves at the top, just under an airlock, and, deciding to use her time productively, she lasered the opposite airlock's control panel. After holding her laser on the box for awhile, it was a glowing ruin, and Axiom commed her. "Partial access to level two established," he informed her.
Najia nodded. She didn't even bother to sarcastically snark at him, though the phrase no shit, Sherlock ran through her mind. Rather, she charitably assumed he was reporting to her something he was learning electronically, and turned around. This is gonna be bright, she thought, as she trained her laser at close range on the near access box, and closed her eyes. She held in the firing stud, and held it - counting in her head to seven, when Axiom's comm made her let up off the laser. "And just like that, we have free reign over level two! They can't stop you now!"
Najia grinned, and opened her eyes to behold a molten, glowing hole drilled into the electronics she had blasted. "Right. Let's get this show on the highway."
On the level above her, in the half just above, she slipped in, and found herself facing a door to another cell block, just through the airlock. She went in and looked; no prisoners. Walking out, she huffed, and decided to walk the half-circuit around the big cylinder again. To her surprise, she found a console, just attached haphazardly to a railing. Really? Najia examined it, and snorted; it looked shoddy, ad-hoc. She tapped the console's screen, and it simply changed color. Axiom piped up. "Magnificent! That'll give you access to half of the switches! There must be another console nearby that will let you remove the second cover."
"Got it. Moving on," Najia said. Back to the airlock she went, after checking the other half of the crescent hallway she was in; without any luck, she just floated across to the other airlock on her EMU. Predictably, she found that, on the opposite railing in the other half of the level, was another console haphazardly attached to a railing, and she rapped it quite firmly with her knuckles. It flashed. "How's that, Axiom?" "Both covers confirmed open," Axiom informed her. "Let's flip some switches. Get back into your spacesuit."
"Never got out of it. Who has time to undress four times? Anyway, switches, yaaay switches," she snarked, as she cycled the airlock again, strapping her EMU back on. "Whoever designed this place is both a madman and criminally negligent."
Once the airlock cycled through again, Najia saw that the two panels she had manipulated had caused five boxes that she had previously taken as unimportant junction boxes to slide their panels open. She groaned to herself when she saw that there were five more lock-like switches within. "Great, time for more vandalism, yay." She lasered the first of the boxes' interiors, the one that was lit, and held it for a long few moments.
"Something's not right," Axiom said, comming her. She had a sinking feeling. "The switches are also setting the state of their neighbors," he declared. Sure enough, she had blasted the leftmost switch, and the second had lit up. Worryingly, the leftmost switch did not look damaged in the slightest. "You'll have to find a combination which turns them all off," Axiom said, as Najia groaned. "I don't think a game of whack-a-mole will get you there," Axiom continued. "Though... Actually, it might!"
Najia groaned, and briefly considered calling for a five-hundred-some member boarding party attack from two capital ships instead. "What tail-hole thought this was a good idea," she bitched. "Who dreamed this up? Why install it like this? Don't anybody answer that, those questions were rhetorical," she snarked, as she set about the process of shooting the junction boxes like they were a juvenile 'turn them all off' game.
About eighty seconds and the false start of thinking she could shoot an inactive switch to switch it on and switch its neighbors states (it transpired that she could only make an active switch toggle neighbors' states), all five boxes were dark, and Najia snarled, bristling with outrage that this was evidently considered part of a high security system and not a child's game.
"You got it, Wildcard!" Axiom commed her. "Access to Level 3 established. And it turned off the darned fan! Off to the hangar, then." Up one level, Najia cycled herself into the airlock, and groaned. She was getting mightily tired of this, and she rolled her shoulders. "I am going to need a massage and to soak for an hour in the shower," she griped to no-one in particular. She hefted her EMU half-over her left shoulder, unholstering her pistol, just in case. The EMU was very heavy, but her EV suit had a fairly substantial low-profile power assist mechanism. Not enough to turn her into a super-soldier by any means, but enough to let her heft a 150kg load like a bulky and cumbersome backpack. She was tempted to leave it behind... But it was a good thing she didn't. The corridor she found was only a straight shot to - and she groaned - another airlock. As she approached it, Axiom unhelpfully congratulated her. "Excellent," he said. "Yo're approaching the internal hangar now. Our getaway ship is right over there." Cycling through, she passed into the deep well of an internal ship hangar - and groaned.
Najia was looking at a Magpie. That was the big, innovative, unique ship?
"If we want to make it out of here, you'll have to destroy the clamps on the hangar doors," Axiom informed her. Najia groaned, sighed, and rolled her shoulders. "Right. I can do that. All this for a..." She seethed, and looked back at the ship.
No, it wasn't a Magpie, but it sure as hell looked like one. It was clearly a derivative design, but it had not the Magpie's massive cargo pods; rather, it had smaller pods, and a lot more gubbins - antennae, dishes, and the like. Fan-dabbie-dozie she thought balefully to herself as she set about finding and destroying the lockdown clamps. As she did so, she also saw a couple more panels that had a turret hologram over them, and, thinking, why the hell not, fried them, too. Moments later, the lockdown clamps fell, too, and she saw a red light glare through one of the hangar windows.
Axiom piped up, "Holy triangle, that's the station alarm! Lucca and I are going to make a run for the ship!" She blinked, looking up - two EVA-suited figures, with full EMUs, cycled through the airlock she had come through.
What, she thought. Where... I... What... Where...? In a moment of dumbfounded confusion, she stared openly, unmoving, before both of them dipped between the ship's large thrusters, and headed for its belly, while Axiom said, "approaching the dock. Be with you in a moment!" Fearing being left behind, Najia abandoned the question of where they had gotten EV suits, let alone EMUs, in favor of making haste to join them.
As Najia negotiated into the airlock, Axiom and Lucca reported that they had boarded, and Axiom was working on powering up the ship's systems, and Axiom was transferring the ship's ownership - and hence, control - to her. They were trying to talk over one another, making it confusing, but, as she got into the ship and shed her MMU, running for the seat, Axiom noted, "This prototype ship does not appear to have an emergency eject system. I assume it was supposed to be added later." "Great," she snarled. "This is going tits-up and I'm in a little ship with no ejection system." "Split been moving into position," Maestro informed her, in a bit of good news. "Alarm must have mobilized more Ministry forces than Split anticipated."
"Thrice blasted!" Axiom roared from the back. "Mellerd deployed a capital ship to head off the Arcadian Endeavour!" Najia groaned, checking her map. A Pheonix-class vessel named Rolling Rock was engaging the Arcadian Endeavor.
As Najia got the Raven's struts up and pushed it forward, she got a comm from the Rolling Rock itself. She snarled as she saw Kriss Mellerd in her comm pane. "Thank you for leading the old man, and his crew of clowns, right to my doorstep. Crossing them off the Ministry's list will do wonders for my career advancement."
Najia gawped at her, in shock at the sheer gall on display, as Mellerd laughed. "You just stumbled into this whole affair, so I will offer you a one-time chance to get out of this. All you have to do is dock at my ship and hand over the pirates youy are currently harboring. You won't be able to keep the ship, but -"
Najia cut her off, snarling in anger. "You just love the sound of your own voice, bitch. Even if I was inclined to take an 'out,' though, nobody can trust you. For anything." Najia switched the comms to her ships, as she powered the Raven up to full. It seemed to be armed with two cannons; she test-fired them by holding in the trigger. They didn't fire immediately, but when she let go, they let fly. "Woah. These must be those Teladi charger things," she muttered. "Whatever. Ladies? This bitch cannot be trusted to keep her word. End her rightly!"
The Rolling Rock was already exchanging fire with Arcadian Endeavor, while Ace nipped at her heels, firing off shots from that launcher and the frontal cannon. Shiv and Kunai - the name chosen for the Paramerion - lifted from the Jackdaw and Arcadian Endeavour respectively, while Jackdaw and the Snapping Tortoise broke from formation with it to engage.
"L beam turrets... Problematic," Najia muttered to herself. "Let me see what I can do about that," she added, as she set the Raven prototype in motion. She could only hope, at least, that Kriss was at least rethinking her decision, now that the odds had tilted decidedly against her.
She dove into action against Rolling Rock, testing out the Muon Chargers, as the ships with her split and attacked. The destroyer was big, and problematic, but it seemed rather... Awkward to control, in fact. Ponderous, its turrets, even the lasers, seemed slow to respond. She nipped around it, firing a few times, as her four ships slipped past it. A plasma bolt struck her shields, and she yelped, diving to evade. "That's it," she heard Rei - not over the open comms, but in her earbud. "I am not letting you get your ass killed like this. I'm dispatching help," she said, and Najia winced.
Great. So this is how the war with the Ministry starts? And yet, oddly... There was no sign of Ministry reinforcements. Najia fled from the immediate vicinity to recharge her shields, coming in close to the Arcadian Endeavour, and watched as the Eighteen Billion Katana squads roared in. She winced as she saw that Okayama and her defense fleet had also been dispatched - a Destroyer squadron was going to bear down on Rolling Rock... Eventually. And yet, the Ministry was doing nothing.
It hit her suddenly; Kriss was rogue. Was doing this on her own. She snarled and grinned. The Ministry might be mad, when this shook out, but they'd have a hard time proving her involvement. Especially if she could play it as her ships responding to a distress call because a rogue vessel with an unaffiliated transponder had attacked a ship. It was flimsy... But it was enough. "Bear down on her, ladies. Tear that thing apart." Najia crowed, as she pulled the Raven in to touch down on the Arcadian Endeavour's landing pad. She looked back. "Axiom, they're gonna need you in the engine room. Lucca, you're not gonna wanna be on this ship!" The back ramp was dropping as she settled down; neither waited for her to have landed fully, they dropped from the ship and sprinted past, to the lift.
"So, you've decided to go down with the sinking ship? One less loose end for me to tie up later!" Mellerd crowed at her, and Najia smirked; of course she knew she couldn't trust Mellerd. "You're worse than a pirate, Kriss. Nobody can trust you," Najia said. "Prepare to kiss your ass goodbye."
Maestro was rattling on in her ear, but Najia could barely hear him over the combat calls. She hoped he was smart enough not to fire upon the T.E. vessels responding - it would be awkward later, and they were joining the fight on his side, after all. He was saying something about escape, and turrets. Najia snorted. "Actually, we're just going to blow this thing up," Najia declared. "We can't leave someone like Kriss Mellerd at our backs."
Things seemed to be doing well at first; the Rolling Rock was handling clumsily, awkwardly, as if she was critically undermanned. That gave Najia an odd hope that she might actually succeed at boarding her; the responding vessels were quickly tearing down her turrets and shields.
Then, everything went dramatically pear-shaped. Najia yelped as lasers tickled the the Raven's shields down and she got them back up again; again and again this happened, each time the hull started to fracture more and more. She made attack runs, damaged a surface element, and then things got worse. Where were those lasers coming from?
"Missile. Incoming missile." She slapped the countermeasures button, only to see the screen flash ammo empty. "Fuck!" A missile slammed into her, followed by a fly-by from a starfighter. She didn't catch it, but she took a pot-shot at it as it went past. Things were going from bad, to worse, when she heard someone howl, "Jackdaw's taking heavy fire! Jackdaw's... Oh fuck!"
Najia felt a moment of total disassociation. Numbly, her hand drifted over the stick, trying to maneuver the clunky ship like a starfighter, whilst fighting through mental fog.
Marta.
"We've got them!" Rei stringer called out, over her line. "I've got the crew of Jackdaw at the depot, but now we're under attack by a Ministry warship!" Najia gasped, shoving her stick forward, hard. Her ship was flying apart around her, and she snarled. "Someone get these motherfuckers!" "We're coming in," she heard - both the first, and last, person she wanted to hear. "Fenrir, engaging!" "Okayama, engaging." "Kagawa, engaging!" "Ark Royal, moving to engage!"
Najia laughed, incredulously. That was four fleets. Four fleets that most definitely were not supposed to be engaging to support the Arcadian Endeavour. One of them the Teladi wasn't even supposed to know about - Alarms blared. The Raven had taken a nasty hit, and a Ministry Kea was lining up on her six. She tried to pull away - she wasn't going to be fast enough - the ship jerked - the world went white.
Najia crashed forward to the deck, yelping, arms up to guard her head. She looked up; a Marine was standing next to her, offering her hand to Najia. "Better get to the skipper, ma'am," the Marina said. "We're Koshirae." Najia laughed, taking the proffered hand and climbing to her feet, hustling down to the bridge's main deck. Selaia Kevlin was standing in the middle like the Maestro, calmingly barking out orders with command presence. She looked up at Najia, briefly, smirking at her. "Does the owner have the conn?"
Najia shook her head, laughing. "Fight the ship, captain. I've got to coordinate this clusterfuck." Selaia laughed at her and nodded, barking out, "bring us up ninety, show her our broadside. Turret gunners, you are cleared to engage."
She hustled down to the fleet coordination console; the crewwoman at it hopping away for her. "This is Takio," she said, hopping on the controls. "Ladies, clear my skies of red. I don't know what the hell has gotten into the Ministry, attacking our stations like this, but if it's hostile out there, we kill it."
Rolling Rock was not having a good day, and it was getting exponentially worse. Her engines had been disabled, and Najia heard Maestro call out over the pirate channel, "Her engines are disabled. Now is the time to get away! But, where is Wildcard?" Najia winced. How was she going to explain that? Did she even want to? "This is Snapping Tortoise," Raleen, the captain of her pirate Baku called out. "We are picking up the crew of Jackdaw and Raven. Let these big bruisers fight, we'll get back to you."
"No!" Kriss Mellerd called out, yelping. "I don't wanna die!" Rolling Rock was coming apart under the growing tide of fire it was enduring, and more ships were still arriving. Najia snarled. Part of her wanted to bid Kriss a bon voyage to the afterlife, but she looked up to Selaia. "If anyone gets out of that ship, I want them. And we don't tell the Ministry."
"Roger that," Selaia said, and barked out orders to the helm to move closer to Rolling Rock. Najia looked back - a Ministry Razorbill was thoroughly engaged, and another had just blown up, attacking the construction depot.
She gritted her teeth, snorting hard. There was going to be hell to pay for this later. Righteous indigation - no, fury - was going to be the order of the day. Her ships had responded to a distress call from a Windfall trader, by an unidentified vessel. It was attacking relentlessly, wasn't on-record as being anything official. Then Ministry vessels, apparently heeding the aggressor's pleas, had jumped in, attacking Takio Enterprises assets, and the inevitable happen.
That was the tack she was going to have to take, and she clenched her fist. Outside, Rolling Rock came apart in a dazzling blossom of red that polarized the bridge windows for a long several moments. When they cleared, the ship was a debris field. Part of her hoped that Mellerd was dead; part of her hoped she wasn't. There was going to be a butcher's bill for today, and she tried - probably vainly - to make peace with that.
"Get us close enough to the Ministry Wharf to make contact," Najia said, looking to Selaia. "I've some barking to do." Selaia smirked at her. "After this? They should know damn well your bark isn't nearly as bad as your bite. They should be happy to get barked at. You should put on a respectable jacket at least." Najia let out a huff of exasperation, hurrying to do just that.
Najia needed to work to summon the righteous indignation she required for the bluff, but she reminded herself of the fate of Ace's mother to do so; the Ministry were assholes, even if they were also the lawful authority; and they had attacked her. She had clear and convincing evidence that Mellerd was up to no damn good. Not that she waas going to reveal it to anyone.
Hence, she found herself with eyes coldly blazing over the comms to the Ministry Police Kea craft which had departed from the wharf to intercept Koshirae. "Enough is enough," she snarled over the holo, standing in the conference room. "My ships responded to an attack upon a free trader from a destroyer that was not transmitting appropriate Ministry codes - not that the Ministry should be allowed to attack random traders, either."
"Your ships fired upon Ministry vessels," the captain of the Kea shot back, clearly outraged - but also, like the pilot who had followed her through the rift - terrified at being massively outnumbered and outgunned.
"Let me be clear, on the record, so there is no ambiguity," Najia said, leaning forward, placing her fist on the table. The effect was to lean closer to the hologram - and on the little attack ship's screen, her face would loom larger. "My ships responded to a distress call from a ship being attacked by an unknown vessel not transmitting appropriate ID. The Ministry, for whatever reasons, chose to respond to the event by siding with the aggressor and attacking my ships. Takio Enterprises warships responded by destroying the Ministry vessels." Her heart was thumping in her chest, but she narrowed her eyes. "If this is the gratitude of the Ministry of Finance, for all that Takio Enterprises has done here in Eighteen Billion, in Grand Exchange and at large, for the Ministry and the company, up to and including constructing facilities and securing neutral diplomats to mediate the dispute between the Company and the Ministry... Well, you might want to check with your superiors before you write a check they have to make good on. To be absolutely clear, this is a threat; you are the highest-ranking Ministry combat officer in Eighteen Billion. It is your decision whether this conflict continues or ceases, here and now. Ah - ah! Shut your fucking muzzle and listen to me carefully," she snapped, as the pilot opened her muzzle to retort.
"If you say anything but words to the effect of 'this was a horrible misunderstanding and we should deescalate the situation' - if you, personally, choose to escalate the situation, the first step I will take will be ordering all of my shipyards to stop producing vessels for the Ministry. The second step will be that I shall cripple the Ministry's ability to replace vessels by destroying the Ministry Shipyard and Wharf here in Eighteen Billion. I shall then proceed onward to prosecute this destructive and pointless war - a war chosen by you, pilot, here and now - by destroying each and every Ministry of Trade station I can find, until someone with some competent authority asks me to please stop doing that. You can see the weight of tonnage I have here, you know the Ministry does not have the tonnage to stop me. The choice is in your claws, pilot; war, or peace. War, or peace. Escalate, or deescalate. Your call."
The Kea pilot visibly shrank backwards in her command chair, obviously struggling to attempt to retain composure and command respect in the face of an overt and direct threat to bring fire and flame directly to the Ministry of Finance. Finally she steeled herself, straightening up in her chair. "This has obviously been a dreadful misunderstanding, miss Takio. The Ministry is undoubtedly going to demand reparations for our lost warships, but such matters are the purview of the financiers, not myself. If you will cease giving offense, we too shall cease attacks upon your vessels."
"Thank you," Najia said, leaning back. She fought not to visibly slump and sigh in relief, or to show how badly her heart was racing. "As for the reparations, they can take that up with the diplomat I have on payroll. Out." She cut the channel, and collapsed back into the chair behind her.
A moment later, the comm lit up again, and she flicked it on. It was a huge conference call, with the commanders of her fleets, the captain of Koshirae, Marta on the Snapping Tortoise with a small bandage on her forehead; Rei Stringer on the 18B construction depot, Tsukiko Peterson back at the headquarters, Professors Nakagawa and Okoye - whom Najia realized with a pang of guilt she hadn't yet formally re-introduced herself to -, Boso Ta,, and Ace. Najia let out a heavy sigh of relief. "Please for the love of god tell me we didn't lose anybody," she said, first off.
"Nobody from Jackdaw, Marta confirmed. "I took a headcount. We got lucky. "That seems to be a recurring theme," added Captain - probably should be Commodore - Xiaowen Kapoor - one of Najia's older friends, and currently the commander of T.E.S. Fenrir. "It helps that we responded with overwhelming firepower. My fleet is reporting no fatalties; thirteen casualties, mostly caused by haste in the heat of battle."
That proved to be the recurring theme; all of her responders reported sustaining injuries, mostly 'workplace accidents' incurred whilst in the heat of battle, but though some were serious, none were life-threatening.
"Najia Takio," Professor Yoriko Okoye - an aged-but-not-venerable, steel-haired professor-turned diplomat said, with the same tone of voice that she had used when reproaching Najia in class. "You are now, as ever you were, charmed, lucky, and reckless. You choose to act with passion first and foremost. This is a fine mess that I'm going to have to clean up, you understand. Can I expect this sort of thing to deal with in the future?"
Najia took in a breath, glancing around at her fellows. Barring a few, they were all young - Tsukiko was the third-oldest and Najia knew she was closer to thirty-five than forty - barely. Most of them looked grave, but not mutinious. She sighed, and smiled, wryly. "While I don't plan to go to war with the Ministry, there may be future... Rough spots to smooth over, yes. If you'd like to resign and go home -" "Not yet," the aged professor said, sharply. "But for dealing with this, I am going to require a pay rise!"
A chorus of chuckles surrounded her, and Najia sighed, face-palming and smiling. "That's fair, professor. We're going to have a fine time untangling this. Ace, how are the Curs?"
Ace looked into her eyes, then looked away for a moment, then back to her. "Secure in Windfall, awaiting your hopefully-safe return." She trilled, and Najia nodded. "Next stop, then."

I decided to go through with it, and finished my first chapter. I've posted it on AO3 'n stuff, figured I'd put it here anyway. I also wanna preface the chapter by briefly saying what it's about to avoid (some) confusion.
"Displacement" is a line of self-insert fanfics I'm writing where a random person get's "Displaced" into the universe of the series it's based on. There's no lore to the teleporting, but the teleporting does happen more than once, and it happens at often crucial times to put the character into a new scenario.
Any text with italics without " " will be the thoughts of the MC, which I'll constantly just be referring to as "you". I really should start writing in 3rd person, but right now I'm stuck in a horrible loop where I keep writing in a mix.
I preface each chapter by putting lyrics from the song it's named after, which are emboldened and put in italics.
​
​
Chapter 1 - Dead On Arrival
As dawn arrives, we still survive.
Nobody knows what's goin' on, Tearin' my town limb by limb.
Where are your mom and dad..?
Was it shocking for you?
Somethin is scaring you?
Enemies will hunt you, no matter what you do!
But we'll fight for you, to defeat them all.
​
If not, there's no way out.
​
What in the hell just happened?
You'd landed on your hands, which ached immensely from the poor angle you somehow fell from. In absolute confusion, you flipped onto your back and used your elbows as supports to lean on, looking upwards.
Above you was but a regular ceiling with lights, nothing out of the ordinary. It seems you had fallen through the ground by some contrivance and into an archaic office of sorts.
There was a total lack of memory from anything that had transpired both leading up to the events that had just occurred, and even some memories predating that.
Such simple things such as your name were somehow eluding you. Questions of who you were rebounded in your head over and over like an echo-chamber filled with nothing.
As your thoughts spiraled, you had a splitting headache. A pained groan escaped your lips as you stood up in defiance. You looked around the room, trying to assess your situation the best you could.
Multiple red banners fit with black Iron Crosses decorated the walls.
An underlying sense of dread built up as you continued exploring the room in search for answers. You approached curtains behind the desk, they seemed relatively well cleaned. With a gentle tug, you pulled them back.
Lying beyond the curtains was a view you thought you'd never see.
Just where in the hell am I?
Looking down from the window, you could see huge warships docked at a port. Some people down below, the size of pinpricks, were walking along the concrete ground. More crimson banners littered the streets away from the docks.
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no..." You whispered to yourself, backing away from the glass.
In an attempt to find out where you were, you flew open the desk drawers. Paper flew like confetti as you looked for answers.
A date eventually stood out to you.
"1-1941?!" You said out loud, dumbfounded.
You continued sifting through the pages in denial, finding the very same date over and over again. After a while, you were surrounded by a sea of white sheets each imprinted with evidence of the impossible.
The drawers all lay empty with nothing more to prove.
You looked towards the multiple banners in the room and silently cursed.
Where the fuck am I? In the Führer's office?
Two doors were present in the room. One opposite the desk, and another to your right.
Testing your luck, you opened the one opposite where you currently were.
It was in the middle of a clean carpeted hallway. The walls were an ivory white, while the carpet was a bleeding vibrant red. Even more banners littered the walls.
This was no time to just start wandering around the Reichstag.
Well... Did Hitler live in the Reichstag? Was this the equivalent? The Reichstag was never built so close to the sea, let alone having a view right over a German port...
A figure turned the corner from down the hall, which you quickly noticed. After silently closing the door, you quietly opened the 2nd.
It was a relatively well kept bedroom with an unidentified blonde woman sleeping on the bed. On the bed-side table was an officers cap fitted with a rising golden eagle alongside a red and white band.
A window view facing the sea was left open; letting in a cooling breeze drift into the room.
An idea struck your mind.
If I'm were going to escape this place alive, I'm gonna need some kind of disguise. Atleast, something other than a T-shirt and shorts.
You could only imagine what they'd do to you if they'd found some random person in what you thought was the Führer's quarters.
As silently as was humanly possible, you crept up to the wardrobe.
You thought "What woman was high-ranking during World War 2? ".
Perhaps the woman sleeping was Hitlers wife or something?
The closet responded to your touch with a high pitched squeak. Despite it being an inanimate object, you motioned for it to shut up with your hand. Your head spun around to see if the woman had woken up.
She did not.
With a silent thank you to god, you looked inside for some kind of uniform. What you instead found was... Womens' apparel?
You reached further in and looked deeper. There was no men's uniforms, which was quite surprising. Further scanning the wardrobe, you came across what appeared to be her undergarments.
You would've slammed the door shut, but the sound of the woman behind you snoring left a constant reminder that there was a SLIGHT element of danger.
Instead of risking it making another creaking sound, you left it open and left the room with a blush. You dove back into the marked papers and read them more thoroughly. Mentions of... Ship girls? Wisdom cubes?
No, no, no, that can't be right.
Standing back up, you struggled to formulate any kind of plan.
If you were going to survive, you'd need a weapon. Surely you could kill one with a surprise attack, then take his gun, and perhaps find a way out of here.
...
The closest thing resembling a weapon was a pen on the table.
Yep, that's fine, I'll just John Wick them...
You huffed and sat down on the more throne-like chair. It was quite comfortable, but it didn't spin like an office chair. It'd be 35 years before office chairs would be invented unfortunately.
The pen wasn't a ballpoint such as the ones you were used to; instead it was a dip pen. A half empty inkwell laid next to it. Out of boredom, you opened it. The smell of ink wafted out of the glass container.
Didn't they have fountain pens by now? Weird.
Your eyes were drawn to a map on the wall to the right of you. It depicted a slightly distorted version of the world you once called home. If you were uneducated, it wouldn't be unfeasible to identify it as the real thing. Perhaps even interchangeable should you be intoxicated enough, there were only slight discrepancies which broke the illusion.
You shook your head in disbelief. Either you were truly out of your depth or what you thought were the Nazi's were just pitifully incompetent.
At that point, it felt like you were in one of those TV pranks. You started probing the room for cameras or hidden microphones. With one glance at the open doorway, you immediate ignored it and continued the search elsewhere.
With a sigh, you surveyed the room one last time while leaning in a corner.
This couldn't be some sort of prank or something. Nobody would spend all of this money just to get a reaction from someone.
Your eyes traced the boundaries of the window.
Especially with all of those battleships and the like. God, the steel alone would cost millions...
The door leading to the bedroom slammed shut due to the wind from the open window.
You snapped your neck around to look at it, terror and trepidation coiled around your soul like a knot. Well... Now that's just great, isn't it?
The noise was so loud, you unconsciously held your ears in reaction to it.
You ran towards the window behind the desk and tried to get it open. There was no handle or any sort of way to open the window unfortunately.
Panic rushed through your body as you heard rapid footsteps approaching from the hallway on the other side of the wall. Grabbing the pen, you dashed over to get yourself in a good position to stab whoever was going to enter.
By the time I kill the first guard, I'll easily be able to deal with the girl in the other room. Shouldn't be too difficult as long as I land this blow.
Eventually, a figure opened the doors.
"Bisma-"
The pen somehow deflected off of her head, even though you used all of your strength.
"Eh? "
A dumbfounded look was imprinted onto your face, and she returned the expression.
Both of you stared at each other awkwardly, both of your minds were trying to assess the situation. She had a skirt that was a mixture of a brilliant red and foggy grey. Despite the look on her face, she had quite an imposing stature. Alongside her flat chest were golden buttons fitted to the exterior; 8 in total.
The pen tip was completely bent and disfigured, unlike the persons face you'd just attempted stabbing. There wasn't a single scratch or mark from your inept strike.
You crept around the stunned girl and into the hall, almost tripping on your own feet. As you backed up, she turned around and apprehensively pointed at you.
"You! What do you think you're do-" She was interrupted by the door to the bedroom being burst open.
"That man! Hipper! Detain him at once!" A tall half-dressed blonde ordered from the doorway.
You started backing away, you knew you had to run but it almost felt like you'd forgotten how to.
The inimical woman in front of you was poised to lunge at you, but her eyes gazed at something beyond you. Eventually you had backed up into something warm.
With a gulp, you slowly turned around.
You were face to face with, yet, another female.
Why were they all women? It's only 1941, surely they're not being pushed on all fronts?
An Iron Cross adorned her neck along with two more embroidered onto the wrist section of her clothing. Instead of blonde, her hair was a chalky white that was tied up in twin tails. Something else you noticed is that they all had thigh-highs on.
"Eugen, I order you to capture that spy!"
"Whatever you say, sis~" Eugen replied with a teasing grin.
"This is a huge misunderstanding! If you'll just let me-" You squealed shortly before being picked up by your shoulders. Her strength was extremely surprising to say the least. You attempted to maneuver yourself out of her grasp, but had no such luck.
Eugen effortlessly tossed you like a speeding missile down the hall and through a door labeled "Canteen".
"Why did you- EUGH! YOU ALWAYS DO THIS!" A irked Hipper scolded before giving chase.
"Oops~ " Eugen giggled with content, following with a gait of elegance.
The blonde put on her cap, and finished getting dressed before rushing in the opposite direction.
...
You'd just breached the doors of the cafeteria, landing on your shoulder and tumbling into the floorboards. You released a loud groan of agony as you made a clumsy uncoordinated attempt of rising to your feet.
Your mind was briefly rendered into tomato soup for a good few seconds before you regained your bearings.
How the hell did she just whizz me around like that? And how did that other girl just completely ignore my strike? What in the name of Christ is going on here..?
As you finally stood on two feet, one of your hands instinctively reached for your shoulder. It really felt like you broke something, but you knew that if you really had broken something, you'd probably be on the floor crying.
"Who is that?"
Your eyes widened as you realized you were in a room full of women draped in all kinds of modified Kriegsmarine uniforms. Some of them forewent their uniforms entirely, wearing skimpy, very revealing clothing for god knows why.
They were of all shapes and sizes. Though, putting it like that makes it sound like they're abnormal godless creatures.
It wasn't too far from the truth, some of them had what seemed to be horns. A good number of them also looked like children.
You struggled to get some words out in a very poor attempt of deception.
"I-I, uh... Für den Kaiser? " You stuttered in a horrible German accent. Everyone was silent. "No? Too early? Damn..."
A feminine voice crackled in from the P.A system, a ringing alarm repeatedly blared.
"Intruder alert! Spy in the base! Prevent him from leaving at all costs!"
Chatter erupted all over the room.
"There's a spy in the base?" Someone repeated.
Only fragments of conversations were intelligible from the mess of different voices and German. The talking slowly died down until the room was in absolute silence. Every single one of them were staring at you.
Your eyes went from face to face, they were innumerable.
You immediately turned you back on them and began your great escape.
It started with a thundering of rushing and mangled cries of "Get him!" and other variations of apprehensive phrases. Multiple lunch trays clattered to the floor. The flat blonde you'd met before burst through the doors, using her arms in an X fashion as a brace.
Hipper didn't see you slip out of her way and slink back into the hallway before continuing into a sprint.
"W-where did he go?" She sputtered in a blunder. Her breath was raggedy and frequent.
They all pointed behind her, some of them started running towards her which prompted an annoyed groan from Hipper, who began to give chase to the human.
...
A look of steely determination was imprinted onto your face as you ran with all of your might. Crimson banners, vanilla wallpaper, and the wall-lamps all whizzed by in a amalgamated blur.
You looked behind you to see how much a lead you had.
They were gaining, Hipper was still leading the charge. In a panic, you hurriedly chose a random door flying by.
Eenie, meenie, miney, mo!
You braced and charged through the wooden pair of doors. What you saw in that room was interesting to say the least.
Yet another woman was sitting on some sort of throne. The masonry itself was crumbled at the edges, armrests draped in light amethyst hair.
The woman herself was crossing her legs with her hands joined in her lap. Behind her was a large cathedral-like window showering the room with light, unveiling the darkness. Unlit wax candles ran along the walls with two golden chandeliers hanging above.
She cocked her head slightly to the right, intrigued by your form. Her presence alone sent chills up your spine. Something about her gave off an incredibly ominous vibe.
As you stood there, stunned, the girls behind you had finally caught up. But instead of entering the room and apprehending you with shouts and whatnot, they were quietly gossiping behind closed doors.
"... Think he'll come out alive?"
"August is scary!"
"Quiet, morons!" Hipper hushed them with a quick strike to their foreheads. Muffled whimpers of pain came from the other side of the wall while the figure in front of you stared you down.
There was a profuse silence that was eventually broken by the woman speaking to you.
"It seems you're this Spy. "
She spoke with an air of sophistication and superiority. More silence followed before being broken up yet again. with a sigh she stood up, albeit slowly.
"I must admit, you caught me off guard. "
You watched in a combination of wonder and horror as a mass of azure cubes passed through the floor and walls, amassing themselves into a metal dragon. Instead of wings, it had half of a deck of an aircraft carrier on each wing.
"Your bravery is worthy of admiration, although whether it is folly or valor..." The dragon took a thunderous step towards you, turrets on the deck seemed to be locked onto your head. "I shall decide."
Each of the steps towards you made you flinch.
"You... Want me... To fight... That?" You said while backing up against the door. "What in the name of Christ..? "
What kind of world was this? A world where dragons just... Exist? A world where someone can just pick you up and hurl you without any effort?
This was but another wake-up call to where you had been thrown into.
"Will you falter in the face of such trials?" She ignored your very obvious indirect plea for mercy.
Your hands wrapped around the knob of the door and turned it violently. The door did not open. In a desperate escape attempt, you rammed your shoulder into it repeatedly to no avail.
Seeing how it wasn't working, you backed up towards the dragon and prepared to ram the door down one last time with all of your might.
"Have you given up already?" The woman sneered, a hint of disappointment rang in her voice.
You ran at the door and made one poor excuse of a dropkick while closing your eyes.
...
It felt... Warm. Your body impacted the ground without ever hitting anything with your feet.
For the second time that day, you were dropped onto the floor. Hard.
You let out an exasperated gasp after opening your eyes. Sunlight hit your body from above, no longer held back by a structure.
You were now in a street, occasionally people would pass by. Some looked on with concern, but without the courage to assist. Wooden buildings lined the busy streets, the archaic stone pathway was littered with the tapping of footsteps.
It was just like when you had first arrived here. Though this time, you remembered.
With a silent thank you to whatever deity might've saved you, you stood up with a grin.
Elsewhere...
"Where did he go?!"
"I'm afraid that's not something I know."
"B-but... How?! He can't just vanish! Unless..."
Hipper scratched her chin, her right eye twitching in increasing frustration.
"He must be a submarine! He might have some... Some sort of camouflage! Yes, that must be it!" She whipped around to the crowd of startled onlookers. "Scour the base! I want no stone unturned! Every cabinet, wardrobe and desk!"
Most of the ships saluted with a coordinated "Jawohl!" before dispersing in different directions. Some merely nodded in a sultry state, upset that their lunch had been ruined.
The ones remaining infront of her were none other than Bismarck and Prinz Eugen.
"I just got my rigging on too! Damn him!" Admiral Hipper raised her shaking fist to the sky in rage.
"I'm sure you'll get him next time~" Eugen jokingly assured Hipper, slinging her arm around her sisters neck.
Already teetering on the edge of rage, she had an outburst.
"IT'S YOUR FAULT ANYWAY!" She flew Eugens arm off her shoulder. "I-if you didn't toss him like you did, we could've easily-"
"Eugen, don't go overboard on your games. What is done is done, though do expect to hear from me in the coming days."
Eugen let out a "Hmpf. " and walked away.
Bismarck approached Hipper with a serious gaze. She immediately got the message and composed herself, straightening her posture.
"I believe you were closest to him. Can you describe his face? Eye color, or anything of the sort?"
Admiral Hipper profusely nodded.
"Good."
​
And that ends the first chapter. As you can probably tell, I'm a novice writer, and most of you are probably twice my age. (Surprisingly, most of you seem to be above the age of 20.) I'm also very new to the fandom, and am looking to improve my writing of dialogue and vast amount of personalities (most of which are tropes), and I'm quite afraid I wrote August/Eugen wrong.
I also have a few questions for any hard-core Azur Lane fans that I'd appreciate if you could answer:
1: Is the German language just called "Ironblood"? Is Japanese called "Sakura" or something? 2: Does the game or anime happen first? Or, are they in separate timelines? I haven't seen Crosswave myself, so I don't know. I was going to follow the events of the anime, then maybe into the game, then into Slow Ahead.
3: (most important one) Are men just... Really rare? Is there a reason why all the ships are females, or why we never see any men, anywhere?
If you've somehow read all of this, thank you, I appreciate people reading my work. Cheers from Australia.

Exporting goods in a wooden box requires proper planning and preparation to ensure that the goods arrive at their destination safely and securely. Here are the steps to export goods in a wooden box:

1. Choose the appropriate size and type of wooden box for the goods you are exporting. The box should be strong enough to support the weight of the goods and protect them from damage during transport.
2. Prepare the goods for shipment by wrapping them in protective packaging, such as bubble wrap or foam padding. Place the goods inside the wooden box and secure them in place with packing material, such as packing peanuts or air cushions.
3. Seal the wooden box with screws or nails, and reinforce the corners with metal braces or straps.
4. Label the wooden box with the destination address, shipping information, and any special handling instructions, such as "Fragile" or "This Side Up".
5. Obtain the necessary export documentation, such as a commercial invoice, packing list, and bill of lading. Make sure the documentation is accurate and complete.
6. Arrange for shipping with a reliable freight forwarder or carrier. Choose a shipping method that is appropriate for the size and weight of the wooden box, such as air freight or sea freight.
7. Track the shipment to ensure it arrives at its destination on time and in good condition.

Also if you want to export in velvet lined storage box then you can create custom boxes too.
By following these steps, you can export goods in a wooden box safely and securely. It's important to work with a trusted freight forwarder or carrier to ensure a successful export.

My wife (42F) and I (41M) have been married for over 20 years. We married young, and for the majority of our relationship, due to both mental and physical struggles, my wife was relatively uninterested in sex. It was somewhat regular early on (1-2x's a week), and then by our fifth year it had dropped to once or twice a month. I come from a "never quit" family that demonized divorce, so that was never even discussed. And to be honest, we do get along really well, hardly ever argue, enjoy each other's company. But, for almost 15+ years, I sat up until all hours of the night while she was struggling with panic attacks, talked her down when she was borderline manic, taken care of the kids when she could barely take care of herself and certainly not them, fended off verbal attacks when she was sure I had looked at some other girl "that way", wrestled with also not watching porn and not masturbating because that made her "feel bad". And through it all I stayed, in part because of the kids, and in part because I wanted to see her get better and "that's what good husbands do". I spent hundreds, or maybe even thousands of dollars on sex toys and lingerie and swings and pillows and chairs, etc. trying to spark her interest in sex. But for the majority of that time, we would go weeks, often months without having sex. I even got to the point where I stopped initiating because I got tired of getting turned down. A few years ago things started to improve. She received several diagnosis that explained a lot of the physical and mental issues, got some medication and started going to therapy. Things were good for about 10-12 months. Honestly, at that point we had been down that road for so long, that we didn't even see that our sex life had been a problem before, so now, 10 months of having sex every week was like utopia. Through some long conversation, we decided to explore swinging (I know, I know. But things seemed really good, and we never really identified that we had a problem before). Honestly, I had hoped that it would help unlock some of her sexuality. However, we have never been able to find a couple that was interested in both of us, so it's become just my wife hooking up with other guys. At first I would go along. It was super hot and made my wife hornier than she's ever been. She was insatiable, even at home. We were having sex once or twice a day, she was sending me nudes while I was at work. She even said that she wanted to try a "challenge" to have sex every single day for 30 days straight (which would have been a first in our marriage). That lasted 16 days... Slowly (or quickly, I suppose), things at home faded. Due to kids and work schedules, I was no longer able to go with her when she was meeting with other guys, and when she came home, she would be "too tired" and "too sore" for sex. Eventually it got to the point where she was having sex with other people more often than she was with me. Finally, we sat down and had a long conversation about where we're at. A lot of things were said, but in the end, she told me that my penis is too small for her to enjoy having sex with me (on the smaller end of average). So, between that, and having teens in the house, she feels like our sex life is mediocre and she doesn't enjoy it. And by her own admission, she never thinks about our sex life or having sex with me, she just simply enjoys having sex with other people more, even though she "feels bad about it". She's even encouraged me to try to find other women to have sex with, so that she doesn't have to feel bad about meeting with other guys (my own wife doesn't want to have sex with me. Not a ringing endorsement when trying to find another woman). So, over the last 15 years, I've purchased every single sex toy, every piece of lingerie my wife owns, to help her tap her sexy side, paid for laser hair removal and braces and skin creams to help her feel better about herself, with absolutely no contribution on her part...until she started meeting with other guys. Now she buys lingerie before they meet up, is starting to pick out some of her own lingerie. The result? I'm sitting at home, haven't had sex in about two weeks, and she's on a weekend sex retreat with one of her guy friends. I'm definitely getting screwed, just wish it wasn't by life.

This is an article on how to hide your porn important "documents" away from prying eyes.
As you may know, when dealing with important "documents" preventing them from being seen by unwanted third parties is of utmost importance. This is why we will go over the proper handling, safeguarding, and disposal of important "documents". We will go over the main tenets of responsible and effective doctrines in the growing art of "document" hiding.
​
Ever since the dawn of digital media, the art of hiding "documents" has been in an arms race between those developing new techniques and those seeking to uncover the contents of said "documents". Corporations, Organizations, Governments, civilians, and other entities are constantly in a total war of sorts, constantly attempting to outmaneuver each other in the dogfight of aces known as surveillance. Even for those not being pursued by government or corporate threat actors, you may face imminent danger from parents, coworkers, classmates, and friends. Thus it is of paramount importance you master the art of hiding "documents"
I, like many people have many documents I wish to hide from the general public and have developed a series of techniques to access and enact responsible document hiding and I wish to share them today.
​
Opening notes: We will not touch on psychological warfare tactics that involve leaving "documents" in open, sensitive, or unsafe areas such as "hiding in plain sight" or "refusal to acknowledge presence" tactics. Now I will describe the main tenets of this artform.
Privacy: How private is it from the rest of the world? Nobody hides a valuable object in a cage no matter where the cage is. Make sure your solution is invisible and does not provoke attempts to breach it.
​
Security: How safe are the defenses? You could hide "documents" in a metaphorical paper box but anybody can cut it open with scissors. Just because nobody can find it does not mean you can ignore the possibility of somebody finding it despite all odds and accessing the "documents".
​
Accessibility: How easy are the "documents" to access? You may have top of the line obfuscation but If it only takes somebody to correctly perform one or two steps to get to the "documents" It is useless. Aim for at least five steps or more in between somebody's attempt and somebody's success.
​
Obscurity: How well known is the technique? Even if your solution is completely waterproof, if the method used is commonly used by others, A way to bypass will eventually be found. You should aim for methods the general public is unaware of.
​
Reliability: How reliable are the defenses? An admiral could have a undefeatable fleet only to be destroyed by a storm. It is always important to make sure your solution has as close to zero downtime as possible.
​
Vulnerability: How many past vulnerabilities have been discovered and patched? It is always important to research your options. A solution with many past vulnerabilities could have even more undiscovered and one with almost none documented could have a multitude of ones undiscovered.
​
Responsibility: How responsible are you? The human is the biggest point of failure in many cases. You could be omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent but all it takes is a slip up for it to all come shattering down.
​
Safety: The most important, Making sure you and only you can access it safely without falling victim to your own defences. Your house could be a impregnable fortress but it won't matter if it locks you outside once you walk out for groceries or lets somebody follow you in.
​
Technology: How much technological dependencies does it require? too little and people without technological knowledge can access the "documents" and too much risks the technology itself having vulnerabilities.
​
Psychology: How likely will would be spies be to give up before or during the unraveling process? Boredom is your greatest weapon here.
​
Legibility: If found how hard is it for somebody to tell they are "documents"? Do they need to be assembled or changed in a certain way to become legible?
​
Commonality: How similar is it to other techniques? If they are too similar, a vulnerability that affects one could affect the other.
​
​
Now that we have laid out tenants to follow lets now look at our main options and describe their pros and cons
​
Hiding: Ol reliable, From changing the name and icon on windows to hiding the only link to access the "documents" commented out in some conf file on linux at line 800/6000 to a unmounted partition on mac, If hidden well enough, It could be nearly impossible to locate your "documents" even with search tools. But anybody given enough time will find these "documents".
Roadblocking: Make it difficult for somebody to access. anything from a password and 2fa to making the only way to access it being a computer with a tiling only window manager on BSD with custom keybinds and a terminal file manager. But remember, if the roadblocks aren't good, you can drive right through them.
Encryption: Encryption is an incredibly powerful way to make sure your "documents" won't be seen by anybody you don't want for at least a million years. GPG, AES, LVM, Bitlocker, RSA, RC6, Veracrypt, Twofish, the list goes on. Every computer on earth could pound on the files for millions of years and only be a fraction of a percent to revealing what is hidden. The downside is that if you give out the password, you're screwed.
Cloud: Why not hide your "documents" on the cloud? Anything from onedrive to Nextcloud could keep the "documents" far far away from you where they can be discovered by those around you. Note if you leave a tab open or somebody find your sharing link, There is little to no defence on most cloud services.
Localizing: Own what hosts your "documents" Don't let somebody else discover them. However it is easier to discover that you own something if its connected with you directly.
Virtualization: Hiding your "documents" in a virtual machine or container could be an easy way of deterring vandals from your "documents" It could be anything from a simple virtualbox vm on Windows or Mac or WHONIX over Qubes OS utilizing nested virtualization and multiple different hypervisors. These may be bulletproof to most of the population but anybody tech savvy will instantly know where to look.
Burners: Putting the "documents" on a seperate physical device not with you is a great way to hide "documents" but without other layers of protection, once the device is compromised, your "documents" are too
Disguise: Could be as simple as changing a file extension or editing its metadata, This is enough to fool anybody not willing to go through each and every file individually to check for your "documents" but once the cat is out the bag, It is what it is.
Scrambling: Why keep the "documents" in one piece? Why not cut them into multiple? for example a video could only be made understandable if you arrange specific pieces in a certain order together in a video editor with a specific filter. This is very hard to beat unless of course, somebody finds out your technique.
Proxying: Why access something with your own network? anything from a simple vpn to a elaborate tor, i2p, or self hosted proxy chain could throw off any "documents" accessed off the network. But be warned. Once somebody tracks you through the chain, its over unless you have more lines of defence.
​
Now that we described the tenants and techniques, Lets look at 3 scenarios. ranging from worst case to best case.
Worst case: Hiding in plain sight on a windows device within the home directory with no encryption and no obfuscation in a well known file format and thumbnails enabled
Recommended: LVM encrypted Burner device running Linux with DWM and a terminal file manager and the document encrypted and hidden in somewhere like /bin
Best case: Remote access via SSH or other similar protocol with secure keys through a chain of both local and cloud hosted proxies each with immutable encrypted file systems with hundred digit+ passwords for everything that can be password secured with multi factor authentication and hardware drive encryption on top running on 5+ layer nested virtual machines each wither their own network stacks leading to a self owned device running hardened BSD or Whonix itself with the same defences as all the proxy servers running a customized for max confusion tiling only window manager without a display server and instead a TTY frame buffer with "documents" encrypted and hidden in a deep system folder on a unmounted partition that can only be accessed by a aliased path with different name, icon, file extension, and metadata that is split into multiple pieces and needed to be reassembled.

Toasters have become a kitchen staple for many households, and finding the best one for your needs can make all the difference. A great toaster should offer consistent toasting, be easy to use, and have a range of settings for different types of bread. Some toasters may even have additional features like a bagel or defrost setting, countdown timer, or wider slots for thicker slices of bread. With so many options available, it's important to consider your personal needs and preferences when searching for the best toaster 2023 for home use.

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5. Mueller UltraToast Full Stainless Steel Toaster : This toaster has a stylish stainless steel design and six toasting levels. It also has a defrost function and a bagel setting.
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In conclusion, there are a variety of toasters available with different features and designs to suit different needs and preferences. It's important to consider factors such as the number of slices, toasting functions, and design when choosing a toaster. Ultimately, the best toaster is one that meets your specific needs and toasting preferences.!

part 3
March 30th, 11:14pm
I don’t know what to say this time.
My days are empty and hollow. My life is slowly crumbling around me, and I can feel my body dying. It’s an interesting feeling anymore, but at first, it was terrifying. You grow used to it.
It’s been a month or so since my update. You’d assume I would have immediately posted regardless of what happened. But I had to wait so I could grow used to my new, painful routine. The routine that I pace through every. Single. Day. Everyday feels more and more unnatural, and the presence of what was: still lingers. My soul is empty, and there are times where I have to drag my fingers across the walls to make sure I’m actually real.
I fill the food bowls, replace the water, and lay out new scratch boards for the cats.
I never see them anymore.
I guess I should go into what exactly happened that night.
Sam and I did go to my grandma's house. I would go to my moms, but she’s an hour away, and my grandma is maybe twenty minutes. I didn’t explain much of what happened, just lied and said we’d lost power, and felt it best to stay until it came back on. I typically have an overwhelming sense of overstaying my welcome, and after a conversation with Sam, we decided to suck it up and go home. It doesn’t feel like home though, and it hurts.
The first thing we noticed when we eventually put the key in, and turned the knob was the feeling of… silence.
No cats greeted us by the door, and the house sat like a tombstone in an abandoned cemetery.
I haven’t been sleeping much. Call it paranoia, but there is no way I’m gonna let myself sleep for more than a few hours.
The first night back, neither of us actually slept. We didn’t turn on the tv, we didn’t go downstairs unless we absolutely had to, and we go through the front door, instead of the side door now.
I’m starting to smoke more now, to ebb the paranoia and fear that I feel. Sam too. Sometimes we go through two vapes a week in comparison to the vape every two weeks.
She’s been sitting on the porch with me a lot more. She used to hate it because it was on the Main Street, and heavy traffic, but anything to get us out really helps I think.
Navigating life without our cats has been… hard, needless to say. I still feel them around me. They still eat from their bowls, and drink their water. Use the litter box even. But every time I try to see them, even a glance. They’re gone. It’s like a nothing burger of bullshit. I’m filled almost with delusions, and Sam never sees them. Never heard them. She doesn’t feel their presence like I do. Maybe I’m going crazy.
Life is a guilty addendum of repetition. My life is a routine. Everything I do in my day has a purpose for an absolute end.
It’s the reason I still fill the bows, the water. I still lay out treats and toys. Sam doesn’t notice because she’s so used to it.
Today though, she asked me: “Why do you still do that?”
Does she not see the bowls empty? Or the water fountain that I paid good money for when it’s empty? The whirring of mechanics as it begs to be refilled? Does she not notice the shower mats still clinging with black fur because my cat seems to love sleeping on them? I wash them every week, and the result is the same after a single night or two.
I haven’t read back on my other posts, but I think I said someone about me not having a job. Well, to refill my time, I got one. And then I lost it last week. I don’t know why. The only thing I was told was “Lack of dedication and willingness to participate.” Whatever that means. But that’s Ohio for you.
Sam and I have been growing apart. Both of us are confused about our positions in life, and we’re not quite sure how to lean on each other for help and support. We’ve been trying to have a conversation with each other for a while. But it’s useless. Not because we argue or anything, but because we’ve lost our ability to communicate somehow. I love Sam though.
If she sees this. Sam, you’re my best friend. And I love you.
Some good news though.
My other two roommates moved out. They found an apartment somewhere in Dayton. Sam and I have seen it. And I’m proud of them.
Sam got a settlement from her car accident back in April. She took me out to eat. Nothing came from it. But I’m glad she got what she deserved. And I definitely appreciated the Olive Garden.
I, on the other hand. Haven’t had as much luck. It makes me wonder if I have actually done something wrong.
It’s raining. In the next few minutes as I’m typing this, it’s supposed to start thunderstorming soon.
Currently, I’m back at my grandma's house. I needed a moment away from the house, to gain my bearings, and I left most of my necessities over there. I’ll borrow clothes, I can be a grandma for a week or two.
At the moment, I am having a nice glass of wine, typing this on my grandma's computer because I left mine at home. I didn’t really expect to update this. But, something came over me I guess.
My grandma isn’t here though. I get the house to myself, and since it’s a one story double wide trailer (sorry, mobile home), I don’t feel so scared. I don’t feel watched. I feel safe, but there is still a lingering sense of paranoia here. I’m always expecting something terrible to happen.
And before you ask, yes. It sucks.
Living your life as if someone random asshole is gonna tap on your shoulder, and when you decide to turn around, they immediately punch you in the face before you even have a chance to blink, let alone react fucking blows. Perhaps my insistent anger is getting the best of me. Maybe my problem is that I’ve lived my life, day-after-day by my own bible, my own ten commandments of routine. And because of my indirect God-complex I subtly force the people that I care about to follow my own routine with me. Honestly, if you’re not stepping with your left foot first, what's the point of walking in the first place?
I was laughing in pain as I typed those last two paragraphs. My apologies.
No offense but this update is like a teenager about to shoot up a school because he thinks he's a ‘deep’ and ‘morally understanding’ teenager who’s gonna look back at this, and cringe at how pathetic he sounds. I, on the other hand, am a grown ass adult, in my 20’s going through this bullshit as my life gets torn up around me.
Anyways, enough with all of that.
I can keep going on and on with these tangents of my moral corruption and adamant self loathing, but I won't.
Wait, hold on. I heard a door open.
11:32pm
I was hoping to have this finished before I went to bed, but I guess sleep is going to have to be delayed a little while longer.
But of course my paranoia was not for nothing, which is positive I guess because you wouldn’t believe what the fuck just happened.
The laundry room door is open. And It’s always locked when we aren’t using it, and I’m definitely not using it right now. So that’ fucking great!
I swear this thing is following me. I guess this was inevitable. I’ve been having some gruesome and vivid nightmares that I forgot to mention because it's a dream, and if you know anything about remembering dreams, most of the time you don’t unless it swades your moral outlook of course.
As I’ve locked myself in the computer room, i’ve taken to asking myself a few questions.
What now?
Why did this happen?
What is different?
The best thing I can do right now is hide myself away until it ends. Do some research that I’ve been holding off on, and see if other people have experienced the same thing. Doubtful because I highly doubt that demons take people’s pets to take them to the animal shelter as a big “FUCK YOU!” There has to be a reason as to why they’re gone.
Of course my big question is if I had done something wrong. I never went to church growing up expcet a handful of times with friends that I went to school with. My mom was never the religious type, but always taught me to be respectful, and I have.
Maybe I should have gone to church more.
I still feel the fear from before. It’s not as intense though. Something feels different. Something in the atmosphere. But I can hear it. The footsteps of someone, or something lingering throughout the house.
I turned my head towards the window, and I can see the storm outside. I can see the rain droplets as they pass underneath the streetlights. But I can’t hear them as they patter on the roof. I feel the house with a roll of thunder, but I can’t hear it. Like I’m deaf to the outside world.
I hear the creaking of the footsteps as they stomp throughout.
It's carpet, so it’s not so bad.
But I can still hear it.
It whispers my name. It's so low, and the thing is so far away, but I can hear it next to me.
“Mitch.” It says, “Mitch.” It breathes.
I hear it going through the other rooms of the house. I hear it stomp through the master bedroom, the master bathroom. The doors for them are open. I hear it creep through the living room, and the kitchen, and then I finally hear it the loudest. It’s in the extra bathroom.
It stomps, but it’s so innocent in the way it does so. The voice, the thing. Isn’t so domineering. It’s patient in its cruelty to succumb my mind to fright. If it couldn’t get any louder though, its made its way up the hall towards me. Its facing the guest room, the only consistently closed door in the house apart from the laundry room.
“Mitch.”
I don’t hear the door open. It waits there for a few moments before turning to the computer room, the room that I’m in right now as I’m typing this.
I hear the breath on the door. A huff of impatience.
“Mitch.”
I think it’s found me. Maybe it’ll find its way in, and wisp me away to their glory.
Life is different, and hard. And terrible, and beautiful all at once. It’s a curse because you’re never quite sure as to how to feel about it.
I guess life is different when you’re being hunted though.

Finding this subreddit has been so therapeutic and validating for me. I’m 26, married to the love of my life (32M) with the most amazing 5yo stepdaughter.
Reading all of your stories has inspired me to sit down and type out my own. I must warn you, there are times when I am the villain. Buckle up. This is a small novel.
If we start at the very beginning, my DH began dating HCBM (33) when they were very young in their early 20s. Shortly into their relationship it became clear to DH that she was struggling with very severe alcoholism. I cannot even begin to write out all of the stories I have heard from DH about her alcoholism. He was very young, didn’t have a positive model for a healthy relationship as a child. He believed he could help HCBM. They were extremely on and off together for almost 7 years. Every time he’d try to break up with her she would weasel her way back in. She would go as far as showing up at his family events because she had his family wrapped around her finger (don’t worry, that changed. Read on.) She almost drank herself to death several times. The police in her town know her by name and recognize her car because her family has had to call in for welfare checks so many times. She’s had bits where she’s gone missing for several hours. Been listed as a missing person. Had the police ping her phone. I’ve read the police reports myself.
Where do I even begin with her family? Her parents are extremely proud. They own two businesses in their small town. They’re the kind of people who are very obsessed with image and making people think they’re wealthy. HCBM started drinking when she was 16. Her parents would deal with her problem by sweeping it under the rug and hiding it. They cared more about their pride than getting her the help she needed. When they were together, my DH was often the one who would drive her to AA meetings. HCBM didn’t like AA because she felt she was above the other people there. Her family now despises my DH, and weaves a narrative that she drank because of her toxic relationship with him. Though her drinking problems existed long before and after their relationship.
I’ll share a few stores in particular with the goal of establishing the absolute delusion that HCBM feeds to anyone who will listen about my DH.
There was one evening where they were at my DH’s uncle’s house in the city. The thing about HCBM is that you never saw her drink until she was drunk. She’d sneak in a bathroom or what have you to drink. DH and HCBM got into some kind of argument and she ran off into the city late at night. DH spent several hours driving around the city searching for her until he finally found her in a bar, making out with a random guy. He said “you can take her home tonight” and left. Several hours later in the wee hours of the morning, HCBM stumbled back to the uncle’s house, wasted and crying.
Another occasion, DH was at work and HCBM was at his apartment (she did not live there) and went to hang out with his upstairs neighbors who were girls. She got drunk with them. When DH got home, he tried to explain to his neighbors that she had a problem and shouldn’t be drinking…. They said “don’t control her! That’s manipulative”. DH went back downstairs, HCBM followed, and they fought. She ran back to the neighbors crying and the girls stormed down into his apartment saying “What did you do to her? What did you do to her?!”
A different time HCBM was drunk she had locked herself in DH’s roommate’s room. He was trying to explain to her that she needed to come out, that it wasn't his room and she couldn’t be in there. HCBM called DH’s mom (now my MIL) and began wailing “he’s doing it again, he’s being crazy again!” God knows what she was talking about. Eventually DH called HCBM’s dad who came to pick her up. HCBM’s dad dragged her by her arm down the stairs rather roughly, and DH got upset, like “hey I get that she is drunk and being a problem but you can’t manhandle her like that” so HCBM’s dad responded my shoving DH up against a wall and holding his arm to his throat.
Shall I go on? There are dozens more. The worst is yet to come.
Anyways, about four years into their relationship, after multiple incidents of infidelity on her part, DH started chatting with other women sporadically. He says he knew it was wrong, but he thought if he could show himself there were other women out there who could make him happy, other stable relationships he could be in, he might be able to get away from HCBM. It was about five years into their relationship that DH actually cheated. And so begins HCBM’s favorite narrative, that DH was an awful, unsupportive unfaithful partner who drove her to drinking because he was so shady. She will never, ever consider the fact that my DH to this day is traumatized from their relationship. He’s been in therapy several times and every single therapist identifies her as a narcissist.
Several years ago when DH and I met I was in college. We had an on and off fling for a while on the coattails of him trying to end it with HCBM once and for all after over six years stuck in a cycle. I think my DH made poor decisions, dumb even. But I sympathize with the trauma bond he was stuck in with this woman, and how difficult it was for him to cut ties with someone who would go to great lengths to insert herself in his life, and with the pressure of his family saying he should be with her. He cut things off with me and fell back in with HCBM. Lo and behold… HCBM gets pregnant. This may be shocking…. But it was not a good situation to be bringing a baby into. HCBM was 28 at the time. She was (and still is) working for her mom at the business she owns because she had gotten fired from every other job for showing up drunk. A side note, her mom owns a gymnastics center where she is a teacher. My DH has told me about several times her mother would text him to come pick her up because she’d shown up drunk. Her mom would get her out of there and just sub in another instructor to cover her ass. Anyways, DH was terrified. However, DH grew up without a father, so there was no way he wasn’t going to be involved in his child’s life. It is an impossible thing to talk about in hindsight because I love my SD so dearly, she turns mine and DH’s world. But DH told HCBM to terminate initially. And to be fair, he was right. It was not a stable situation to bring a child into. Would I reverse time and change anything? Never in a million years.
As you may have guessed, HCBM decided to keep the baby. She repeatedly told DH that if he left, he would not see his child. DH was stuck and miserable. During her pregnancy, while HDBM was parading about as if they were this cute happy couple, DH began to miss me. He realized he had real feelings for me, and he reached out. I loved him the moment I met him, so I was thrilled. I’ll keep this part concise; DH began cheating on HCBM with me, and I knew. It was an ugly decision on both of our parts. Despite how much I loathe HCBM, she is a person. She did not deserve that. DH and I are both pretty ashamed about our choices back then. I’ll go into detail later about how both DH and I have tried to atone for our actions.
When she was about 7 months pregnant, HCBM caught on and contacted me. Those conversations are forever burned in my mind. She said some of the most disconnected, ridiculous shit I’ve ever seen. She was obsessed with the image she was trying to portray to everyone about her life. I’ll never forget one conversation where we were discussing their daughter’s impending arrival… I had said something along the lines of “do you think it’s wise to bring a child into this situation,” and she said “I have lots of help. I’m old enough.”
“I’m old enough.”
Like she’s a kid trying to convince her parents to let her stay out past midnight.
DH and I broke things off before SD arrived. I was heartbroken, but let’s be real, that was a mess. An entire mess.
Still, HCBM thought it was just a brilliant idea for her and DH to move in together. So her parent’s rented them a house in their small town…. DH kept paying the rent on his apartment the city about 45 minutes away. DH has told me how miserable their relationship was, and HCBM knew all about his affair with me. But like I said, she was desperately trying to create this pretend life for herself.
SD arrives, a day I am so glad to celebrate each year. She is truly the joy of my life. DH cried more than she did. He was instantly in love with his baby girl.
About three weeks later, HCBM is back on the bottle.
DH told me about how he’d come home from work and find her drunk. She’d grab the baby and lock herself in a bedroom and cry. DH feared for his child’s safety.
HCBM was only able to breastfeed for a month or so because she stopped producing milk due to heinous dieting. She was obsessed with getting back to her pre-pregnancy weight. She would eat only miso soup for days on end. This poor relationship to food comes into play later. HCBM’s mother was always over at the house. Cleaning up, buying them things. Contributing to the facade.
DH was severely depressed. He continued to stay with HCBM to monitor her drinking and watch out for his daughter. They got to a point where DH would sleep on the couch. One night DH came home and HCBM was drunk again with SD in her care. DH called her parents who came rushing over to remedy the situation as they always do. Shortly after they arrived, HCBM had slumped over on the couch and became unresponsive. An ambulance was called. DH says it was one of his most traumatic memories holding his baby daughter watching the EMT’s resuscitate her mother wondering how he would raise this girl on his own.
After a hospital stay, HCBM returned home and her parents ordered pizza and put on a movie and pretended as if nothing had happened. That was the routine. When DH expressed his anger, his justifiable concern for what was going on, HCBM’s parents treated him as though he was the problem, he was an asshole for bringing it up and blaming her.
It wasn’t long after this, SD must’ve been around eight months old that HCBM was on a binge and DH returned home from work to find the house empty. He frantically began calling people to locate SD when HCBM’s parents informed him that she was with them, and that HCBM had crawled out a window and was missing. A missing person’s report was filed. HCBM’s father told police to check ditches and park benches, as she could often be found there. She turned out to be at some random man’s house, and was located about 36 hours later.
DH was at the end of his ropes. He took the police report and lawyered up secretly.
Here’s a fun new component to the story, remember how I said that DH had began sleeping on the couch? In said police report, it is documented that DH and HCBM were not in a relationship and were merely roommates. Because that was the situation. Behind the scenes, HCBM had met the man of her dreams. Let’s call him PF….. for psycho fiance. Yes, they’re engaged now. We’ll get to that part. PF randomly messaged HCBM on facebook and they began talking. PF was a recovering alcoholic in his 30s with no driver’s license due to a DUI.
Now, recall when HCBM was missing? Her parents searched through her facebook accounts to try and locate her and found her messages with PF, they explained their daughter’s drinking problem and asked PF if she may be with him. She was not. They had not even met yet. But PF thinks this woman who clearly has severe personal issues is just the cream of the crop. He decides to take her out to lunch. By the end of their lunch date, he is love-bombing the daylights out of her. Calling her his wife, his galaxy, all of this grandiose crap.
Two weeks after they met, PF got HCBM’s name tattooed on him. While DH was trying to sort out a plan of action with his lawyer…. HCBM informs him that he has to move out so that PF can move in because he will soon be without a place to live. She wants to invite this man she’s known for three weeks to live with her and her baby daughter. I’ve seen the message she sent to DH, it reads, “I know it seems fast but I know in my heart that he is so good.” HCBM’s parents are thrilled.
Less than a week after PF had moved in and DH was out, the ex parte motion was filed. DH was granted full emergency custody of SD until a hearing could be held. HCBM did not see SD for nine days… and of course, DH was the villain for this.
At the hearing. DH was awarded majority custody, with HCBM being allowed one overnight a week. PF was not permitted to be present when SD was there for overnights until CPS could investigate.
Now, HCBM’s parents funneled money for lawyers, rent, utilities, basically any adult expense HCBM needs is taken care of by her parents. DH did not have the same luxury. He was working himself to death as a single dad trying to pay for his lawyer while the court battle ensued. Almost two months later, DH contacted me. We hadn’t spoken in close to a year. I was off living my own life almost halfway through college. DH just needed someone to talk to about it, and still had very strong feelings for me. I was a shoulder for him to lean on.
We began hooking up, with no real intention to enter into a relationship. I met SD and would watch her while he was at work. There was an obvious deep love between DH and me, but the circumstances were just so insane. Plus, HCBM despised me, and was weaving stories to the court about how DH was an emotionally abusive partner, a narcissist and the reason for all her drinking.
DH and I did not want the drama of HCBM knowing I was around. Since we were operating under the guise that this was just an indulgence and would end at some point, we kept our interactions a secret.
Then, the universe must’ve thought we were owed some karma for what we did during HCBM’s pregnancy. I was diagnosed with ADHD at age five and have had a prescription for stimulants since a very young age.
One morning I awoke and heard what sounded like tiny wretching from the other room. My medication had spilled out in the bottom of my purse as the safety cap was screwed on crooked. SD was playing on the floor and digging around in my purse. DH noticed her putting something in her mouth, realized it was my medication and immediately ran into the bathroom and began making her puke.
I called poison control who instructed us to bring her to the hospital. She seemed relatively normal, a bit dazed maybe. We called the ER to let them know we’d be arriving. We got there and they stuck charcoal down her throat, drew blood, the whole ordeal.
I brought my medication bottle with me to give to the nurses so they knew what she had ingested and to prove it was a legally obtained prescription. I was frantic and bawling, a nurse comforted me and told me that ingestions are extremely common and we had done the right thing by bringing her in.
SD had an elevated heart rate, was fussy and stressed. She was administered medication to help lower her heart rate and as a result had to be admitted to be monitored. The blood tests came back with extremely minimal amounts of my meds in her system, but it was protocol that she be monitored after the medication was given to regulate her heart. If you’re feeling anxious, I’ll add that SD is perfectly healthy and happy, she fully recovered and did not suffer any seizures or damage to her brain/liver etc. which were the primary concerns with this ingestion.
Since she was being admitted, HD had to inform HCBM. I had told him he should tell her immediately, but he did not want to deal with her reaction or her family arriving. I think this was a poor decision on his part. As flawed a person as she is, I do know that HCBM loves SD very much, and I can sympathize with her wanting to be informed if her daughter was being seen at the hospital.
HCBM and her family arrived, I had left to avoid the fallout and gather some things for DH to drop off while he stayed at the hospital with SD. Naturally, HCBM was in a blind rage that she had not been contacted immediately. She demanded that the CPS worker who was mandated to check in because of the ingestion file a report of negligence. The CPS worker declined, saying that there was no negligence to report. That evening, security was called to remove HCBM from the hospital because she was screaming at DH in the pediatric wing. She was told she could return on her custody day.
I went to visit DH and SD the next day, she was back to her old self and able to go home. We were nowhere near prepared for what was about to ensue.
HCBM had weaved a story that I was addicted to drugs, and that whatever I was doing had to have been in a plastic bag in my purse or how else would SD have gotten into it? HCBM and her lawyer filed an ex parte motion. Now I’m sure most of you are familiar with the workings of family court, but for those of you who aren’t; and ex parte motion is an emergency motion. It is a piece of paper laid in front of a judge. The details can be as vague or exaggerated as the writer pleases them to be, and it is not until a hearing is scheduled can anything be disputed.
HCBM and her lawyer claimed that SD had ‘overdosed’ on stimulant drugs and conveniently failed to mention that they were a legal prescription. More than that, ‘overdose’ was a completely sensationalized description of what had occurred, and not a term used at all by any of the medical professionals nor was it included anywhere in her chart of the incident. SD never lost consciousness. There was never a point where doctors were in fear for her life. But the judge sees what is put before them and signs off with the limited information they are given.
When HD filed an ex parte motion against HCBM, the hearing was scheduled for nine days later. When HCBM filed an ex parte motion against DH, the hearing was scheduled over two months later.
This was the worst time period in DH’s life. He attempted suicide. He lost an insane amount of weight. He sold beloved possessions to pay his lawyer. He did not have custody of his daughter and HCBM allowed him rare visits in public places once or twice a week.
But ah, how the tables turn.
A month before the hearing on the ex parte motion, HCBM got a DUI with SD in the car. Her driving was so ballistic, someone had called in her car. She was arrested. I could go into detail about the bullshit-ery of her and her family I read in the police report from that, but there is still so much ground to cover.
CPS notified DH of the DUI. HCBM and her lawyer told DH’s lawyer they wanted to settle custody outside of court before the ex parte hearing.
DH was exhausted. He was broke. He just wanted his daughter back. He settled with HCBM on 50/50 custody. This is perhaps the greatest regret of his life. The GAL at the meeting even told DH he didn’t have to do this, that he could fight her and probably get more custody. But DH was a shell of a person at this point. He was in debt. He was exhausted.
Mere days after they settled he checked himself into an inpatient mental health facility for treatment. He and I were in touch every once in a while throughout that entire time, but had ended our romantic relations after the ex parte was filed. I was more of a confidant and friend, but he had drifted apart from everyone in his life and I was focused on school.
The day that DH left inpatient, PF messaged him to tell him that HCBM had slipped up and drank again. Saying, “she just has such a big heart, this is so difficult for her.” DH suspects that she had gotten herself into another nearly lethal situation or gone missing and PF was hoping to do damage control by contacting him rather than him finding out another way.
So 50/50 custody it was. Nine months later, HCBM gave birth to her and PF’s son. I’m not sure of any exact dates but judging by the date of that message and the birth of the baby there is a high change HCBM was drinking while unknowingly pregnant.
For the DUI, HCBM was sentenced to 40 days in jail while pregnant with her son. It was a work release program. Since she worked for her mom, she worked as many hours as she possibly could. Her mom would pick her up from prison with her phone and her makeup so she could hide what was going on from her coworkers and the community. DH would bring SD to the gymnastics center to visit her. She had an IED put into her car when she was released, meaning she had to blow into a breathalyzer to get her car to start.
DH and I would check in every once in a while over the course of the next year. We both dated other people. HCBM of course had issues with DH’s girlfriend he was with for a few months. But things had relatively settled save for the tension and resentment between HCBM and DH.
More than a year had passed since everything transpired and since DH and I were last romantically involved. We began talking more frequently during COVID lockdown and DH admitted he was hopelessly in love with me and wanted to be together. We had a major problem though.
When HCBM and DH were settling on their custody agreement, HCBM insisted I was not to be around SD. If you recall, HD was broke, exhausted, and severely struggling with his mental health. He and I hadn’t seen each other in person in several months, we talked but very infrequently and never of rekindling our relationship in any capacity. So he gave in. As long as he could be done with the nightmare and have his daughter back.
A single sentence in a five-page custody agreement meant that I couldn’t be around SD. I want to specify, this was not a restraining order. I was never served any papers, I would not be punished in any capacity were I to see SD, there was no court record of any kind indicating that I was restricted from seeing a child or was a dangerous individual. DH wouldn’t even lose custody or face any legal ramifications were he to violate that single sentence, it would just mean an official would have to intervene to investigate and ensure the stipulation be adhered to. Still, it would’ve prevented us from having any sort of real relationship. So we filed a motion to have the line removed. I had not seen SD in well over a year and we abided by the order which was exceedingly painful.
The first hearing was before a court commissioner. We came armed with letters of recommendation from friends and family, from the families I had nannied for during college. DH’s family had finally seen the light and turned against HCBM and attended the court hearing, filing the seats.
The court commissioner spent about ten minutes reviewing our plea, and decided this was not a matter of my character or whether I was a threat to SD, but that this was a communication issue between DH and HCBM, and since DH had agreed to this, they needed to work it out between the two of them.
Ha. Like that would ever happen. DH and HCBM began communicating through a court monitored app and attending co parenting counseling while our lawyer filed a motion to bring the issue before a judge and have a GAL and Family Court Worker appointed. As we all know with family court, things move slowly and this we had to wait months to make progress on our case.
Co parenting counseling was fruitless. HCBM is not capable of accountability. She insisted DH was a narcissist because she’d read about narcissism on the internet and she believed she deserved full custody of SD.
A judge appointed a GAL and Family Court Worker to our case. I’ll never forget the relief that day as the judge told HCBM that me being in SD’s life was inevitable at this point. There was no evidence that I was a dangerous person. At one point, our lawyer brought up the language used in HCBM’s ex parte motion all that time ago, pointing out the sensational language used, specifically the term “overdose”. I was shaking when HCBM’s lawyer admitted to the judge that “there was no overdose.” I’ll never forget the sheepish look on that lawyer’s face, or how HCBM’s jaw tightened as she refused to look even a millimeter in my direction.
Everyone met with the GAL and Family Court Worker. Of course HCBM got the earliest appointment possible so she could try to sell her story. When I sat down with the GAL he said “I don’t know why you’re here, to be honest.” But that’s the ridiculous thing about family court, people can just spew this insane shit and it has to be looked into.
Both the GAL and Family Court Worker recommended the line be removed entirely. We still had to wait another month for our hearing for these recommendations to be made to the judge. Over the course of these proceedings, DH and his lawyer (with my consent) had been urging HCBM to attend a co parenting counseling session with me to address her concerns. HCBM of course vehemently refused, actually speaking to me would destroy the picture she had painted and deluded herself into believing about me.
We continued to press the issue though. After the GAL and Family Court Worker’s recommendations were passed on to everyone’s lawyers, it was clear this was not going to go in HCBM’s favor. It could’ve easily been settled outside of court, saved everyone time and money. But that was never going to happen, HCBM was going to go down swinging. Less than two weeks from our final hearing before the judge, HCBM agreed to attend co parenting counseling with me. Both parties signed NDA’s before going into these sessions, they were meant to be mediation for parents to work out their issues and not dig up fodder to toss around in court. A safe place, if you will. DH and I suspected she’d want to attend a session with me so she could fabricate some story about me being awful, or make it seem like she was being reasonable since she’d refused any and all attempts to mediate this issue civilly.
We were correct, but her feeble attempts at control were fruitless and the line was removed. I could see my girl again. Since then, DH and I got married and have been in absolute bliss as a family of three. But of course, the mess with HCBM does not stop there.
DH and I have no idea it HCBM has been drinking or not. We have no proof. She claims she got sober, but she never received any professional help or rehab so that seems doubtful to me. There are a few red flags. She now shares a car with her mother, claiming her car has “been in the shop” for well over a year now. DH explained that when she would go on drinking binges, her parents would take her car away so they could control where she went and monitor her.
We’ve also had the issue of SD not wanting to go to her mom’s house. I have ring video footage of HCBM coming to pick up SD. SD was in hysterics, she ran back in our house several times while HCBM stands annoyed in the driveway. DH sits with her and consoles her, encouraging her and telling her she will have so much fun with her mom and brother. On this particular occasion, it took 45 minutes to get SD to go with her mom. This happened numerous times. DH eventually brought this up to HCBM, expressing his concerns and saying that he wished she would participate in co-parenting their daughter in these situations rather than hiding behind her car. HCBM dismissed him, saying she was a great parent and he was obviously making SD act this way. Give SD an oscar at this point. I can’t even fathom what DH would say to make a five year old act that way.
Eventually, HCBM stopped picking SD up and instead sent her mom to get her. SD has no issue going with her grandmother. A bit suspicious to me that it was specifically her mom that caused such an upset for her.
HCBM is very obsessed with image. She dresses SD in expensive outfits with intricate hairstyles. I should add, expensive outfits that are purchased for her by HCBM’s mother. She has told DH that she is not pleased with how he sends SD to school and has concerns about his ability to parent. He sends her… a 5 year old… to school in leggings and t-shirts like the rest of the 5 year olds in her class. Don’t get me wrong, I love to dress SD up when she’ll let me and I have indulged in Rylee and Cru outfits and what not, but the majority of the time SD wears normal kid clothes. She runs and jumps and plays and likes pink and sparkles and tops with her favorite characters on them. We let her pick her crazy mismatched outfits and throw her hair up in a quick bun or braid so it is out of her face. She bathes almost excessively because she loves the bath and is a very well looked after child.
Now, HCBM lost a significant amount of weight after she got together with PF. Her mother is also extremely thin. DH has told me about how they were always doing fad diets, they’d call themselves fat and critique their appearances constantly and clearly did not have a healthy relationship to their bodies or food.
At our home, SD is fed a balanced diet but I try to encourage a positive relationship to her body and food. No food is “good” or “bad,” they simply serve different purposes. For example, carbs give us energy, protein helps us grow, sugar makes us happy, etc. Creating guilt around eating certain types of food can lead to eating disorders, body image issues, I know because I had a poor relationship to food and my body for so long. SD loves fruits and veggies. She also loves chips and candy. She is allowed to indulge in sugar within reason and without guilt. I don’t think it's rocket science, and for us it has had fantastic results. We'll be at a gas station and ask SD if she wants a snack and the kid will want celery. I follow the instagram page “kids eat in color” very closely and when we prepare SD’s meals, the “treat” component is served together with the rest and not withheld until later. This is so SD doesn’t view certain foods as special or more desirable than others, and won’t associate treat foods with this rush of excitement and overwhelming positivity moreso than say chicken nuggets or carrots. When DH sets down her plate to eat, SD rarely if ever reaches for her treat food first. She eats everything on her plate until her body tells her she’s full.
HCBM constantly berates DH about SD eating “healthy.” She criticizes him for getting candy at the movies. Goes off about her having a cup of sugar-free pudding at 11 a.m. On Halloween, SD is allowed two pieces of candy from her trick or treat pile at her mom’s house.
Last Halloween at our house, we dumped all of our candy out in a huge pile and watched a movie. SD ate, I kid you not, four pieces of candy. She didn’t feel the need to binge on all this candy because she knew it wouldn’t be withheld if she asked for more in our home. There is still halloween candy in a bucket in our pantry and we weren’t even out trick or treating for an hour.
HCBM accuses us of “competing” with her. This. Is. Rich. SD loves visiting my parent’s and sometime last fall took a liking to playing my dad’s drumset. Later that week, HCBM bought her a kid-sized drumset. We adopted a kitten, HCBM adopted a kitten. We started playing barbies as a family, HCBM buys a barbie dreamhouse. We planned a weekend trip to a big city a few hours away, HCBM and PF take SD and their son to that city the week before we’re supposed to go. My husband is a Dungeons and Dragons fanatic, and recently he has been making kid friendly campaigns for the three of us to play as a family. SD loves playing dungeons and dragons with her daddy. It has become our family’s thing. The dungeons and dragons movie came out recently and DH and I got tickets for an early screening on a day we didn’t have SD. Who do you think we saw there while we were waiting in line to get popcorn? Their family does not play dungeons and dragons. You’ll be pleased to know that SD came down to sit with us for the last half hour of the movie, PF who had taken her had to give in because they were seated a row behind us and she kept leaning forward to excitedly whisper to DH about the movie.
I have suffered extreme emotional issues due to the abuse from HCBM. I’ve attended therapy specifically to address it. I developed severe social anxiety because HCBM will tell anyone who listens these fictions about me and DH. We live in a small community, one that HCBM and her family have been a part of for a long time and I am constantly afraid people I meet will know them and have these crazy ideas about who I am as a person. The flipside of this is that their family’s reputation is not as positive as they like to think it is, particularly to police in the area. In addition to HCBM’s drunk escapades involving police, her father has a court record pages long for tax fraud.
Thankfully, I work in the city 30 minutes from where we live and that has allowed me to build my own village and have a life untainted by HCBM and her crap. Through lots of work I have been able to establish firm boundaries. I’ve had to restrict HCBM and her friends from my social media accounts after being watched obsessively. HCBM’s mother even went as far as messaging my mother on Facebook to try and say DH is a narcissist and she should be concerned for me. DH and my mom are very close, and my mom was mainly worried about how far these people were going to go to untether my life.
HCBM doesn’t seem to understand the concept of equal guardianship. She views herself as the primary parent and believes she should have access to everything in our lives. This is legally not the case so luckily we’re just able to ignore those demands but it gets taxing.
HCBM’s parents pay for SD’s health insurance so HCBM makes all of her doctor and dentist appointments and acts as though that’s because DH is an uninvolved parent, despite the fact that he has asked to make appointments on his custody days so he could go. I have excellent benefits at my job and could take SD on as a dependent since she resides with us 50% of the time. We haven’t even proposed this idea to HCBM because god knows she would never agree despite the fact that this would probably save her parents a ton of money.
HCBM has SD involved in several activities on her custody days. A bit too many for a five year old in my opinion. Multiple gymnastics and dance classes and soccer. Since HCBM’s parents are always funneling her money and paying her bills they are constantly going out to do expensive activities, weekend trips, shows, you name it. HCBM thinks these things make her a good parent, but I personally don’t think that SD feels as emotionally attached to HCBM as she does DH. DH and I spend a ton of one on one time with SD. We play with her with her toys, we do crafts, we watch movies together. HCBM thinks dropping her off at some expensive activity makes her this stellar mom, but she doesn’t engage in the same level of connection with SD that DH does. HCBM’s parents of course bought them a trip to Disney World last year, and the day they came to pick up SD to leave for the airport she did not want to go. She began crying and insisting she wanted her dad to take her, and that she would miss him too much. What five year old objects to effing Disney World??
We have issues on the horizon with SD attending kindergarten next year. I know a battle will ensue about where she attends. The custody schedule does not give us any weekend time because when it was written, SD was one and DH was working weekends and the days they agreed on coincided with his schedule. This means that when SD attends school in the fall five days a week, we will not get a full day together as a family. DH and I are very nervous about addressing this. We don’t have any desire to change the 50/50 custody, just to adjust the days so that we can have some weekend time with SD. It is likely this issue will end up in court and cost us thousands.
I have had to come to the hard acceptance that this is just how our relationship with HCBM will be, likely forever. I hold on to selfish hope that she may screw up drinking again, but at the end of the day I want what is best for SD which is a healthy and stable mother and I will do whatever I can to encourage a positive relationship for them. At this point we have no proof of her drinking for the past few years. Either she miraculously stopped or her family’s response is just so calculated to protect her from getting into any shit and jeopardizing her custody. If that is the case, that can only go on for so long before SD is old enough to tell us what is happening.
I think that HCBM is deeply insecure and ashamed. I think she needs to make DH and I the villains so she feels better about herself. I think her upbringing has allowed her to shirk any and all accountability, she is surrounded by people who tell her she’s never wrong and she’s this great person and great parent.
I don’t know what the resolution is here. If you have read this far, thank you sincerely. Though I confide in my mom and friends about the situation with HCBM, I keep my venting to a minimum so as not to let her live rent free in my life. I am not going to spend all this energy being pissed at her and her immaturity. I’m not going to give her the satisfaction of getting on my nerves, being the subject of my conversations. I’m not even going to let her think I care enough to trash her to people. But it feels extremely therapeutic to get this all out to a group of people who understand.

Lothli woke up bright and early this Saturday, as always. Then, with a yawn, she checked her phone: April 1st.
Was there something important happening today? I don’t quite remember…
Her thoughts were quickly swept away by the mundanity of her morning routine. Pulling on clothes, brushing her teeth, doing her hair…
And so, she was entirely caught off guard when she arrived in the kitchen.
Her twin sister cackled like a madwoman, stirring a gigantic cauldron smelling burnt iron, cotton candy, and writer’s tears.
“Maishul, what exactly have you done?” Lothli sighed, ambling over to the bubbling cauldron.
“This? Oh, just a little April Fool’s prank!” the other twin giggled before pulling out a miniature figurine of a strange humanoid insect. With a snap of her fingers, the statuette grew to full size, glancing around warily.
“Oh goodness! What’s going on here?” the moth woman exclaimed, seeming more confused than frightened. “What kind of insect are you? I’ve never seen anyone with just four limbs like you two!”
Lothli turned to Maishul, a frown on her face. “Is this Minerva? Did you STEAL her? We’re going to get banned, you know.”
The other twin continued cackling, heedless of Lothli’s wrath. “No, no, I got permission! Look!”
Indeed, the paper Maishul pulled out did have the signatures of one, two… how many authors?!
“Maishul, what the heck have you done?” Lothli huffed. “This is— how do we—”
“Excuse me, but I believe I may be lost?” Minerva asked, her wings fluttering nervously. “While I would love to ask the two of you some questions, I need to return to my lab, if you could point me in the right direction?”
“Oh, I apologize, Dr. Minerva. You’re currently experiencing a dream. Please do forget about this,” Lothli sighed before snapping her fingers and reverting the insectoid woman to her figurine form.
“How exactly are we going to explain this to Polaris?” Lothli deadpanned with her gaze on her happy-go-lucky sibling.
“Oh, I have a good ‘ol industrial barrel of Remove-Yo-Memory. I’m sure it’ll turn out fine!” Maishul grinned back. “Look, look! Let me show you what wonderful scenes I’ve cooked up for everyone!”
Scene One: Art’s Very Bad, No Good Day
I was not having a good day. First, I was thrown into yet another random plane of existence. Dimension hopping was something I wanted to experience no more than one time in my life; thank you very much. And yet, here I was. In yet another random plane of existence with absolutely no say.
“Iklem.”
Second all, I found myself surrounded by these strange creatures. Four legs, shimmering black pelt, bizarre snake-like neck, flat head, creepy singular eye, and that weirdly human voice. Definitely not a fan.
“Iklem.”
The three Iklems crept—
Ahem. The plural of Iklem is Iklemli, Art.
And thirdly, that obnoxious voice ringing out in my head. Who was that? Why were they in my head? And why could they read my thoughts?
Fine. The three Iklemli crept closer and closer, predatory intent clear. I backed away slowly before my phone suddenly burst out with the cheery tune of Weird Al singing, “Just eat it (eat it), eat it (eat it)...”
“I’m in the mother of all situations here, Demoness, and you choose a freaking parody song? Can you at least tell me what the hell is happening here?” I snarled into my phone’s mic, watching the approaching monsters closely.
“M’dear, I hate to say it, but I have no clue what’s happening.” The slight strain in the Demoness’s usually sultry voice gave me pause. That Demoness? Confused? I really was in some deep shit, wasn’t I?
“Could you at least tell me what an Iklem is?” I said, imitating those creatures as best I could.
“My love, how do I explain this? As best as I could tell, at least five foreign dimensions have been forced together into one singular mess. And whoever did it had no grace or finesse at all.”
Tell the Demoness that she has no grace or finesse, either! Hmph!
Rolling my eyes, I communicated the feelings of my new head neighbor to the Demoness.
“Well, dear, tell your new friend that they should consider undoing this fiasco,” the Demoness replied with a sigh. “Whatever the case is, those Iklemli you mentioned are from one of those other dimensions. I can’t tell you a thing about them.”
With that good news, I turned back to the advancing beasts. This was going to be a fun one…
“Maishul, you can’t just break the fourth wall and shove your thoughts into the scene,” Lothli huffed, shaking her head.
“Pfffft!” Maishul blew a raspberry before turning back to her abomination of a cauldron.
“Also, you can’t just swap to first-person narration. We’re in third-person narration.”
“Well, Matt writes in first-person. And I respect our fellow author’s intent; thank you very much!”
Lothli raised an eyebrow in response before pointing to the bubbling cauldron of doom. “You call THAT respecting our fellow authors’ intents?”
“They gave permission!” Maishul pouted before turning back to her inglorious creation. “And you won’t complain once you see my next glorious scene!”
Scene Two: Sloth Squared
Pride’s scowl only grew deeper as he dragged his erstwhile companion along. The swampland around them had warped into a blooming forest, with trees looming large overhead. The various fully intact buildings were most concerning, indicating that the pair had passed into a rift.
“Sloth, GET UP!” he hissed, shaking the lazy layabout.
“Huh? Wuzzit? I’m sleepin…” Sloth snored, already back asleep.
“We’ve got a MAJOR problem here. Pretty sure a rift opened around us, so stay on guard!”
Sloth blearily stumbled to his feet before glancing wide-eyed at his surroundings.
“Holy cow, you’re right! I didn’t even notice. But, man, Pride, I’m so tired… I…” Sloth stumbled a bit further before faceplanting directly into a bed of flowers.
“Dammit, Sloth. This is ridiculous, even for your standards.” Pride leaned down to pick Sloth back up, but something strange was afoot. As soon as he leaned down, an overwhelming surge of exhaustion passed through him as well, and he collapsed on top of his companion.
“Dude, you’re sleeping right on top of a good patch. Can you two move?” A voice lazily drifted into Pride’s mind before he rocketed up ramrod straight.
“Hwa— what!? Oh. A rifter.” Pride composed himself as he stared down at the man who awoke him. About five foot six, with short white hair and red eyes.
“Uh, I’m not a rifter or whatever you just called me. I’m Clear, prince of Sloth. And you?” Clear tilted his head.
“Prince… of me? Ehehe, there’s no prince of me…” Sloth murmured in his sleep.
“Typical rifter, spewing nonsense. Come on, you lazy bum. We’re gonna hide before this gets violent.” Pride turned to drag Sloth away but found his legs unwilling to move.
“Hey, man. C’mon now. You haven’t noticed you’re in a dream yet?” Clear said, his hand extended. “Let’s just talk, alright?”
Pride struggled for a few more moments, then back at Clear. “Alright, alright, never seen a rifter do that before. Calm down, yeah? I’ll chat until this rift collapses.”
“So please, introduce yourself properly this time,” Clear responded, freeing Pride with a flick of his hand.
“Right. I’m Pride, that’s Sloth.” Pride pointed at himself, then at his companion. “Can we go?” “No. Please explain what you are doing here and those wings on your back.” Clear yawned. “Also, don’t use our nation’s name as a moniker. It’s probably disrespectful… or something. Eh, we don’t actually care that much.”
“Huh? We’re here because your stupid rift pulled us in,” Pride hissed. “And these wings? We were born with ’em. No story here. Also, pretty sure we were the ones who had those names first.”
“Eh, the kingdom of Pride wouldn’t be very happy to hear about that,” Clear responded. “But whatever, man. Things have been rather chill ever since a random blob named Sparky fell on top of the Demon King and ate him or whatever. So enjoy the nap, I guess. Mind if I join in?”
Pride rolled his eyes before scooting over to allow Clear access to the flowers. Before long, Sloth and Clear were snuggled up together, much to the chagrin of Pride.
“What the hell am I supposed to do now?”
“Aren’t they just the cutest?!” Maishul exclaimed. “We should make that our newest OTP. I bet Haru would approve.”
“Please don’t ship characters across two different SerSuns,” Lothli replied with a shake of her head. “Also what was that about Sparky eating the Demon King—”
“OKAYNEXTSCENE!!”
Scene Three: Machines, Demons, and The World Tree
There was a rather strange rash of oddly dressed folk in Lugavya lately. Or rather, just odd folk in general.
Rumors flew of a human with bird wings who passed over the town, carried through hurried whispers between the residents. A strange man with fierce red eyes insisting on making ‘deals,’ much to the annoyance of passersby trying to get through their day.
Lena and Veska had met to investigate, unable to keep themselves still while such strange events abounded. No sooner had the two exchanged greetings did two strange men approach, flagrantly discarding any sensibilities on their right to free speech.
“Hello!” the younger one called out before getting his head gently bonked by the older.
“W-what was it? Oh! The greeting we use should have been ‘well met,’ right?” the teenage boy puzzled himself, rubbing his head.
“No. Firstly, as foreign visitors, we do not use that greeting. Secondly, we do not greet them. They greet us,” the older whispered, turning his eyes to Lena and Veska. It seemed at least one of them remembered their manners.
“Peace, strangers. We will not begrudge you for your transgressions. Tell me, what business have you with us?” Lena began.
“We are looking for directions. We have lost our way. Please, would you tell us our current location? Latitude and longitude are preferred, but any notable landmarks will do.” The older man bowed slightly, with the younger following shortly after.
Latitude? Longitude? These words were unfamiliar to Lena and Veska.
“This is Lugavya. Home to Alvedos, the World Tree?” Veska explained, an eyebrow raised. Were these folks raised under a rock or something?
The two men conversed among themselves, their frowns deepening.
“Apologies, but I am unaware of Lugavya. Could you perhaps point us in the direction of the United States?” the older asked, tilting his head slightly.
“Oh, and if you know of any demons, could you put in a word for me? I can’t figure out the ritual to get home without one of them…” the younger added.
The United States? Demons? More unfamiliar terms. Lena and Veska knew these newcomers were oddballs, but this was a bit much.
“I’m sorry—really! But we simply don’t have the knowledge to help the two of you. Perhaps you could head to the Foresters? I’ll give you their location.” Lena rattled off directions to the nearby Foresters’ hall.
“Thank you very much.” The older man stalked off after a stiff bow, and the younger man quickly followed.
“Sticks and stones, what is the world coming to?”
“Was that Megan’s SerSun? All that intricately balanced worldbuilding, and you just shoved random crap in.” Lothli barely held back a sigh. “Also, you didn’t even introduce those two characters. How are our readers supposed to know who they are?”
“This is left as an exercise to the reader,” Maishul tittered into the camera before returning to the glorious mess in her cauldron.
“Next scene!”
Scene Four: The One With No Chill
There wasn’t much that could faze a Huntress.
It was often said that their wills were unshakable. Nothing could cause them to stop them from single-mindedly accomplishing their goal. And yet, Olivia stood dead in her tracks, staring at the abomination across the Dam square.
“I AM OLIVIA. DARK HUNTRESS. SMASHER OF SQUEAKERS. AND THE ONE WITH NO CHILL,” the awful creature that vaguely resembled Olivia boomed.
“That young lass a friend of yours?” Barlow remarked, barely holding back a chuckle.
“Nope.” Olivia chucked one of her daggers at the offending sight, but she deflected the blade with a ripple of its musculature.
“You are weak. You have no strength. Witness me, false Olivia.” The muscle monster took up a ridiculous pose, her muscles overtly flexing.
“I will destroy you. And after that, I will destroy your creator. And I’ll salt your entire bloodline, while I’m at it,” Olivia snarled.
“I would like to see you try, false Olivia. Last time, I was overcome by the power of the Deus Ex Machina. But this time, I will not be struck down.” The monster took a step forward, the cobblestones cracking under her feet.
Olivia flinched. A Huntress does not feel fear. A Huntress does not back down. Yet… in the face of this horrible being… Her mind recalled the near-death experience she had with the Beast. Did she really want to face that again?
She shook her head, clearing it. No. She would finish this. Olivia raced at the mocking facsimile of herself, her onyx daggers at the ready. As she drew closer, she summoned every ounce of strength and struck.
As Olivia flew through the air, the world seemed to slow down.
Ah… this feels… familiar…
“‘Admittedly, Huntress, you are quite the entertainer—”
“No!” Lothli slapped the figurines out of Maishul’s hands, sinking them into the dreadful mire of the cauldron below. “You can’t reuse that line for the third time!”
“But you used it, Lothli. That’s hypocritical!” Maishul harrumphed.
“Yes, because it was the first time we used it. You can’t just reuse jokes like that!” Lothli glared. “And don’t think I forgot about that comment Clear made about Sparky. What. Exactly. Did you do?”
“Uhm, uhh…” Maishul stuttered. “W-Well, I maybe kinda spilled some my Story-Breaking-Plot-Devices into the cauldron on accident…”
“Your WHATS?!” Lothli stared at her twin in disbelief.
“Uhh, it wasn’t a big deal or anything. Just, uh... Scarlet, the Demon King, Sparky, Wan, Pre-Geas Dread Lord Ardus, the plague from , the Deus Ex Machina, the Beast, and the entirety of the United States’ arsenal of nuclear weaponry.”
Lothli shook her head with a sigh. “I’m pretty sure you caused mass human extinction at least three times over.”
“Well! No time to worry about it! Next scene!”
Scene Five: Bea and Ophelia Discover The Wonders of Nuclear Physics
Bea and Ophelia stared at the booklet that had just materialized before them. “Maishul’s Simple Guide to Stealing and Utilizing the Entirety of the United States’ Arsenal of Nuclear Weaponry: For Dummies!” The booklet was decorated with garish stickers of rainbows and glitter, along with cartoonish mushroom clouds.
With a glance at Ophelia, Bea picked up the book. Immediately, her mind was flooded with images and knowledge. Where exactly every nuclear silo in the United States was located. The launch codes and how to bypass the two-key rule. The birth and loving families of each and every nuclear warhead…?
“Bea? Dear? Are you alright?” Ophelia shook Bea gently, concerned. Bea wordlessly handed over the booklet and watched the same information flow through her. The two shared a meaningful glance before turning the manual over. A bright red button sat there, glowing ominously amongst the childish stickers and drawings of shocked faces.
“This is absolutely too dangerous to be left just lying around,” Bea murmured, staring at the booklet intently. Maybe it was a prank some lesser fae put together to induce some concerning but ultimately harmless illusions. But deep down, the two knew this was far more sinister than a simple prank. Plus, there was no fae named “Maishul” that either of them knew of.
“I’m going to have to seal this thing away with the strongest magic I have,” Ophelia declared. With a wave of her hand, ethereal chains weaved around the book. Magical seals whirled through the air, all concentrated on the offending manual. The horrors of nuclear annihilation have been contained with a final clap of her hands.
For around five seconds. Immediately after the ritual was complete, as if to spite Ophelia’s work, a glowing sword descended from the heavens, slicing through the glowing chains and seals like butter. The two barely managed to glimpse the name written on the side: “The Deus Ex Machina,” before the blade landed squarely on the big red button with a satisfying click!
“Shit.”
“So what exactly were you saying about ‘not worrying about it’?” Lothli shook her head in dismay. “How are we going to explain this mess to their poor, poor writers? What are we going to say to Bay?”
“It’ll be fine! I’m not breaking any of the rules on shortstories, which means I totally can’t be banned!” Maishul quipped cheerily.
“That is 100% not how it works.” Lothli crossed her arms. “Don’t drag me down with you.”
“I dunno! You’ll bail me out, right?” Maishul shrugged before returning to her appalling project. “Next scene!”
Scene Six: Sanguia Loses a Fight
These were the end times. The world felt… sideways. The government was in shambles. A plague that turned people into fine, yellow dust had apparently appeared, sweeping the continent from east to west. Yet, there was nothing I could do. Right in front of me, I had my own foes to contend with on the roof of Holos Lucidium.
On my right was a shapeless mass, writhing and transforming, throwing vicious barbs my way. It never introduced itself, but I knew its name from within myself: the Beast.
On my left was a much more innocent figure, at least on the surface. He had slicked-back black hair, brown eyes simmering with self-assured pride, and an easy smirk. And to cap it off, he introduced himself promptly and with great gusto; he was Dread Lord Ardus.
I could attempt to flee, but what purpose would that serve? Even if I got away, which my gut told me was highly unlikely, I would be abandoning my guild to die to these two monsters. So no. I stood my ground here.
“Sanguia. Member of Holos Lucidium.” I balanced my stance between my two flanks, watching both. With a smirk from Ardus and a ripple from the Beast, the fight began.
I quickly discarded the idea of even fighting the rippling mass on my right. It had no blood I could control, and impacting it with my blade would make me stuck. But the Dread Lord was no slouch, either.
As I rushed at Ardus, a tingle in my spine screamed at me to duck. I tucked into a combat roll as a great blast of flame roared right where I used to be.
“Fiesty, aren’t you? Well, that’s what makes it fun,” the Dread Lord growled, licking his lips.
I had no time to respond as a raging, shimmering bull attempted to ram its gleaming horns directly through me. I sprung off the ground, landing just behind the writhing bull. There was no time to go on the offensive; it took all I could to stay alive.
“Stop struggling, Interloper,” the Beast snarled. “I have plans I have to attend to. Plans that do not involve you.”
I kept the undulating mass between myself and my second opponent. My only hope was to promote crossfire. The dagger I held in my right hand felt woefully inadequate for this task.
“You heard the fella. I’ll end this, here and now.” Ardus thrust his hand straight up into the air as if grasping something far above him.
“Dread Lord. May I take this as a sign of betrayal?” The Beast rumbled, a dangerous edge to its voice.
“Nah, I never said I was working with you. You’re too… icky for my tastes.” The Dread Lord tapped his chin thoughtfully. “It’s a good thing you’ll be obliterated in an instant. Ta ta!”
I looked up with a heavy heart, knowing how outclassed I was. There was barely time to say goodbye before a massive ball of light enveloped me in its all-consuming shine. The last thing I managed to think was:
That was an utterly unfair fight.
“Well, the protagonist of our SerSun just died. What now?” Lothli looked at the cauldron in dismay.
“Hey, it’s not so bad! Scarlet is still alive, right?” Maishul dug around in the cauldron before pulling out yet another distended scene. “Look! Here she is!”
“What… is that?” Lothli looked at the scene with equal parts awe and disgust.
“Oh! Well, I really liked Fye’s SerSun, so I made my own! Isn’t it great?”
“Maishul, I think you missed the entire point of his SerSun. Where’s the inter-character drama? Where’s the mystery? Where’s the actual HISTORY?” Lothli poked the off-kilter scene with distaste. “This version of the story is just <Murder.>.”
“Well too bad, dear ‘ol sis! Here! We! Go!”
Scene Seven: Murder Without the History
Hi, I’m Benedict Lushon, Ben for short. Somehow, I think I just unlocked the secret to teleportation. I stand in the middle of the mansion’s dining room, feeling my stomach turn violently. One moment, I was chained in front of a cackling Kyle, and the next thing I know, we’re back in this blasted room. I crane my head, checking who else is here.
Teddy, check. His monocle and top hat are still crooked as he looks around the room, just as confused as I.
Cornell, check. Unfortunately, he still seems to be out cold.
Kyle, check. Wait—
I stride up to Kyle and grab onto his lapels. “What exactly have you done?” I say, shaking him back and forth.
Unfortunately, he seems even more confused by the current events than I am, judging by the bulging eyes and frothing at the mouth.
“W-What exactly happened here!? We were just— and then—” my former coworker manages to sputter out before a booming feminine voice rings out from the walls.
“Heya! What’s up, characters! It’s me, ya girl Maishul, back at it again with another fun murdery twist!” The cheery voice that booms out from the walls contrasts with all the horrors we’ve seen thus far. Also, who talks like this? Did we get kidnapped by one of those Instagram influencers? Ugh, I hate those kinds of people.
“Who are you?! What have you done?!” Kyle screams, his voice cracking. “I have waited YEARS to take my revenge on these fools, and you—”
“Oh. You.” The voice seems displeased at the interruption. “Sorry, I didn’t think your Tuffy plotline was interesting, so I retconned it!”
Now, that was the mark of a bad writer. As a future multi-bestselling author, I know that one of the most sinful things a writer can do is randomly retcon the story. I’m confident this random influencer girl will never go anywhere in her writing career.
“YOU! We were known as the Tufforo family, and we—” Kyle rages before being cut off by the voice again.
“Sorry, don’t care.” A piece of duct tape manifests itself directly onto Kyle’s mouth. I would find it funny if it didn’t demonstrate how supernatural this influencer’s power seems.
“Anyways! Here’s the rules. I’m not really good at that being cryptic thing, so it’ll be easy!” the voice announces with glee. “Here’s my super special sparkly OC, do not steal, known as Scarlet, Scourge of the Americas. She’ll try and chase you down! She wins when you’re all dead. You all win when, I don’t know, she dies of old age or something. You can try to kill her; it won’t work!”
‘Super special sparkly OC, do not steal?’ So, what, did I find myself in some hellish parody of Earth? That must be it. This must all be a very terrible dream. I sincerely hope that none of my readers would ever consider making fanfiction like this of my stories.
“By jove, those rules seem downright unfair!” Teddy finally seems to have found his voice. “Please, good madam, could you let us go? We have already suffered at the hands of that accursed man—”
“Lalala, can’t hear you!” the girl’s voice sang out. “Here she comes! Give it up for… Scarlet!”
A hidden panel drops a… rather regular-looking young woman onto the floor. Why, if I were in charge, I would have ensured that my villain would have a spectacular appearance. Someone as fascinating and spellbinding as Jack the Ripper—
Scarlet dashes at Kyle and [REDACTED]
… … Technical Difficulties
“MAISHUL! What the hell was that?! Is that how you talk when I’m not around? And what the hell was that last section?” Lothli furiously slapped the tortured scene back into the accursed project bubbling menacingly below.
“Well, Scarlet’s kinda messy, so I tried to cover it up,” Maishul pouted. “Also, I was just trying to liven up the scene a bit! Kyle’s so BORING. He speaks in RIDDLES and they make my brain HURT.”
“That’s because you don’t have a single brain cell in that head of yours,” Lothli huffed. “Don’t make such sweeping changes to people’s stories!”
“Well… dear sis, could I trouble you for a favor, since I’m so head empty ‘n all?” Maishul smiled her widest, most brilliant smile.
“What.” The other twin glared back, unimpressed.
“Well, if you don’t want the two of us to get banned, can you help me separate these stories back out? Please?” With a fluttering of her eyelashes and a winsome wink, this would undoubtedly win her sister to her side—
“Deal with it yourself. I’m going to hand out apologies.” Lothli had no sympathy for her twin’s plight.
“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” Maishul cried. For now, she was burdened with her least favorite task; actual work.
And thus, this tale comes to a close. Nevertheless, its name will ring true throughout the land as the legendary fable known only as “In the Shadow of Machines, Scarlet, and the In Between Geas and the Beginning of the Demon Murder History: Dissonance, also How Did We Get Here?”
Thank you very much for your time. And apologies for my sister.
Lothli, signing off.
Credits: Maishul, Lothli, FTF!Olivia, and the Deus Ex Machina, from u/Lothli’s FTF Serial, Minerva and the plague, from u/PolarisStorm’s Art, Demoness Virtua, Sparky, and Dread Lord Ardus from u/mattswritingaccount’s Iklemli, Lena, and Veska from u/MeganBessel’s Pride and Sloth from u/Helicopterdrifter’s Clear and Alex from u/Carrieka23’s Talix, Sanguia, and Scarlet from u/Lothli’s Olivia, Barlow, and the Beast from u/Not_theScrumPolice’s Wan, Bea, and Ophelia from u/ZachtheLitchKing’s Ben, Theodore, Cornell, and Kyle from u/FyeNite’s The Entirety of the United States Arsenal of Nuclear Weaponry from the United States.
Special thanks to u/OldBayJ, which this fantastic feature would be impossible without.

Today I had a counseling appointment. My mom asked me if I wanted anything to eat a d I said yes and while she was making me food, I was getting ready and as I was getting ready, she called me downstairs(I wasn't able to do my hair yet since she called me downstairs) .
I try to hurry up and finish my food so I can finish getting ready and she comes upstairs yelling at me saying why aren't I ready yet- I understand where she's coming from with that, I should've been ready ages ago and we're going to be late. I told her I was eating, but then she started yelling at me and saying that I'm being ungrateful, if I don't want to go that I don't have to, other people have it worse(and she tells me how other people are struggling with this and this- ik people have it way worse but I feel like she's just comparing or smthn idk), and that there are people that wish they could have help or someone to talk to and that people wish they could have a caring mother like mine.
I'm not trying to come across as disrespectful, entitled, or ungrateful; I truly am grateful for all that I have! I play piano, I used to have a 61 key keyboard and she somehow managed to get me an upright piano- there are people that may have certain passions and dreams and not be able to get the things for them but I'm able to and I'm honestly really thankful for that. She was also telling me how others have it worse, etc, last night, and I know others have it worse and she thinks I don't know those things but I do.
If we talk about the future and stuff I say "not if I die first", I'm 16,and I honestly don't plan on making it past 18. No one knows I attempted earlier this week and it fucking failed, my bf and bsf know. No way in hell I'm telling that to my mom or counseling- she'd kill me and I'd be screwed.
Sometimes I don't wanna be here, I feel miserable all the time and it's exhausting. My mom said that I can go drink a bottle of bleach and kill myself. That hurt but at the same time it didn't bc i felt numb during that.
On our way to the approintment, she started yelling at me and that she's tired of my bullshit, me "manipulating and taking advantage" of her and treating her like shit. And shew as saying "oh poor me, I want to kill myself" but about me. That had be shocked bc I don't ever try to manipulate or take advantage of my mom, I don't ever try or want to hurt her. I know my mom has done so so much and sacrificed a LOT for me.
She threw her phone at the car windshield and now it has like a crack right in the middle. She never hit me but I was a bit scared she'd grab me by the face or something.
I'm not trying to victimize myself, seek attention, manipulate, treat her badly, hurt her, be ungrateful and entitled, I'm really not. All I ever want to do is impress my mom and make her happy. I can't even do that when it comes to the most obvious things and basic tasks.
She told me to go kill myself and that has to be the most hurtful things she's ever said to me. I've always felt like a problem and a burden to other people, and now to know that she's tired of me and my bs. I feel like she's upset with me bc of my mental health and the fact that I get anxious going to my appointments and that I don't want to go sometimes.
I plan on still going, for me but because I don't want her money and everything to go to waste and I don't want her to be mad.
I struggle with anxiety, depression, and self harm and that hurt. I don't ever mean to hurt my mom, I try to do my best and be happy for her.
She said that she's throwing in the towel, she doesn't care, she won't make me do anything I don't want to. I may not want to go to counseling but honestly it's better than being at home and feeling miserable all the fucking time.
Ive asked my mom before what can I do to be a better daughter and she said nothing, I'm already the best daughter but I don't think so. I'm a problem and a piece of shit daughter, honestly I really am.