I understand the reason why Rhysand was so angry and confrontational with Nesta through the series. He was mad about how she behaved in the cabin. Probably insulted that she wasn't respectful towards him as he is the High Lord and used to deference. Maybe even triggered by Nesta likely being more powerful then he is. He was forced into a sexual relationship by an extremely powerful woman and really had no time to process that before having to deal with Nesta. Since she is his sister in law and Cassians mate, he is essentially stuck with her. So I get it. He has no reason to like her, and he doesn't have to. No one is obligated to like anyone.
But was being so openly antagonistic smart? He would know she was immensely powerful, even though she denied it and refused to train her powers after the war. But what if she did learn to use her abilities? What if she had decided to leave the Night Court? It never made sense to me that he would be so openly confrontational to someone who, given time and training, would likely be able to kill or at least seriously harm him. Wouldn't it be far wiser to at least be civil? To not act like you view her as an enemy?

My fiance and I have a 16 month old son together and I'm finding it harder to stay in the relationship. I feel like only reason I'm staying is for my son.
My fiance was diagnosed with adhd and depression around 2 years ago, it has been a long journey. It's gotten to the point where I've now begun seeing a counsellor just to try to talk about understanding what she is going through and some of her behaviors as I was finding we were fighting alot I felt because I wasn't seeing where she was coming from.
So I've made changes to how I communicate with her, attempting to come from a place of understanding, trying to give positive reinforcements to her, support her any way I can.
But it's not enough, I'm not seeing results. No question there is better communication, but it feels like as soon as we develop that, she takes another issue with something about me or something I'm not doing.
For example, we don't have daycare for our son yet so it's difficult to find time, I look after him on my days off and vice versa, for each of us to find time to do things we need to "fill our cups" as it's been put. So she had been telling me to get a round of golf together on one of my days off, so last minute I got a round of golf organized. I let her know what's going to happen and then I start getting the guilt trip about how it wasn't on the calendar and she was hoping to do stuff together. This is after the previous 2 nights me trying to get her to do something, anything, together after our son went to bed. Just to add to this, she is going away for a girl's night Friday night to which I've supported her to go out on cause she deserves it.
Also been told this week, although she says it wasn't serious, that im her physical part of the relationship while a girlfriend of hers provides what she needs emotionally. One of those girls friday is the "emotional" partner.
I'm hopeful that once she starts with her therapist, of which my benefits don't cover and she can't afford so I'm paying for it out of hopes it helps her find clarity with her issues, things become better.
So much I'm leaving out here that would bring more light onto the situation but she's also hit and bit me before, this is normally associated with alcohol and arguing. The most recent was actually 2 days before my birthday and a couple days after I had told her I had sought counselling to try and better help her.
I'm not perfect but I've changed a tonne over the years to try to be a better partner for her and I dont feel it being reciprocated. I feel defeated, hopeless, and just bad about myself. Sometimes just feel like she stays with me because of the financial security.
What are your thoughts on the situation?
Thanks for providing a space to vent

Welcome to the second discussion for Tamsyn Muir's Nona the Ninth.
This section covers all of Day 2 through Day 3 Chapter 11.
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Day 2 Chapter 7
Nona is awakened by something hitting her face. Camilla wants her to recount her dreams, where someone is holding Nona's hands and she is holding theirs, but both pairs of hands are hers.
Nona gets ready for the day and puts on a shirt that has a hamburger with legs on it. They discuss the escalating hostilities between the common folk. People are killing each other and bodies are pilling up in the street.
Palamedes takes control of the body shared with Camilla. Pyrrha is concerned with the risks it poses to their shared brain. Camilla drops Nona off at school.
When entering the classroom, Nona finds Honesty nursing a black eye. Turns out she ran into a streetlight. Honesty was working a job and after realizing she was being followed, ran away and into a light.
Chapter 8
Nona attempts to get shoes on Noodle - a dog with six feet. While doing so she mentions that she would rather be attempting the weird bone things that Camilla / Palamedes try to get her to do. She walks outside and talks into her hand to someone called "Crown".
John 15:23
John recounts the first days after something important happened. After three days people began to believe what he claims to have happened to him. His eyes have changed. They say he looks like Edward from Twilight with the body of a high school history teacher.
The bodies everywhere were not decomposing. They tried heating them, but their temperatures weren't changing. Their corpses were perfect. John feels a connection with their bodies - he feels their presence and that he was touching them without touching them.
John is recounting this information to Harrow.
Chapter 9
Hot Sauce asks Nona what she said at the end of Chapter 8. Nona felt silly talking to herself and didn't say much. Hot Sauce says the Watcher took off after she spoke into the radio. Nona practices with swords despite her lack of interest.
Nona recounts when she went swimming. She wanted to lay at the bottom and drowse, but didn't want to die. Camilla is suddenly surrounded by what appears to Nona as police. Nona lunges forward in an effort to help Camilla, only to hear words muffled by water and to be shot. She hears the name Unjust Hope. When Nona reemerges from the water, she finds Camilla surrounded by bodies on the ground.
They return to Pyrrha, where Camilla is tended to. Pyrrha tells Camilla never to try Synthesis again.
Chapter 10
Pyrrha and Camilla / Palamedes discuss the on going violence. People are rioting against police and protesting the acceptance of zombie money.
Nona eavesdrops on Pyrrha and Palamedes. They discuss Pyrrha burning people and Camilla / Palamedes overextending their necromantic powers. Pyrrha points out that they are only a fraction of a Lyctor.
Nona heads out to a secret room where she sees the blue orb in the sky through a window. She knows that it is causing all of the chaos, but she likes to look at it. She loves it and is the only one who can hear it sing. She calls it Varun.
John 5:18
John and presumably Harrow lie looking at the stars. John recounts his first experiences with necromancy and his follower's reactions to it. He talks of the tests they did on his abilities and he refers to the corpses as his batteries.
They were worried about getting caught and disappeared, so they decide to broadcast his abilities and see if there is anyone else like him.
Day 3 Chapter 11
Nona recounts a dream where a girl with a painted face is floating under the water. In the dream they are embracing, but the body parts are mixing up.
Pyrrha asks Nona to be careful with her friend Hot Sauce. Pyrrha saw her burn cages the previous night and noticed the company she kept.
Nona wants to know what everyone thinks is sexy. Nona doesn't think red heads are sexy and Palamedes finds that to be important.
People with guns break down their door.
***
We'll see how the plot congeals in next's weeks discussion to be run by u/Unnecessary_Eagle!

They are not robots. Even if they want to take themselves apart from other organic species, they are very alike organics.
These aliens need to breath, if not always at least sometimes; we can see multiples times gems' chest expand as they take air, the most obvious example is Pearl in Rose's Sword Scabbard episode. Or Navy hurrying to rescue the other Rubies with the ship, which as oxygen suply, even though gems take hundreads of years as nothing so she wouldn't be so worried to take them from space in an oxigened ship.
Most gem-habitated places do also have natural or artificial atmospheres and I want to insist that every single one of their ships also has oxygen suply so... basically they NEED oxygen.
This may seem dumb since they repeat very often how non-organic they are. However, humans also insist so much on taking ourselves apart from animals that it is likely enough for gems to do so.
Gems' physical forms can take damage, they can feel and even if their gemstones are their cores, they only interact with the world with they physical forms. Their mind is in the gemstone, their body is biomass that can turn into light as human biomass do (in the show ofc, not in real life).
Because yes; humans can turn into light. We can see this when Steven fuses, and even when Connie does. With gem stimulation, humans' body turn into light, when Stevonnie unfuses we can see how they turn into a light ball then separe and go back to their human biomass. This is not even because "Steven is half human", because human Steven, a 100% human being, and Pink Steven, a 100% gem being fused. "But Rose and Greg couldn't fuse", Rose didn't even try to. "But there is no precedent of-" the absence of evidence doesn't annulate the existing evidence: Human Steven and Pink Steven fused, Steven fusions are made of light.
About gems being biomass that can easily turn into light... I don't even need to explain that light isn't a material thing, you know. They aren't "light given form", because that simply doesn't make sense.

Me and this girl had both liked each-other at the time. But because of some personal reasons we never went forward with the relationship. About 2-3 months after us exchanging feelings, her feelings for me died and she started texting a lot less. I was pretty sure that due to the lack of communication I had lost feelings for her. But it’s recently come to light that I still want her to text me and that I get annoyed when she doesn’t. Just for reference I am very hard to annoy, everyone else I text it doesn’t if they respond at all. I don’t want to feel annoyed when she fails to text me. So I’m asking for advice, how do I get over her. It’s been months of lacking communication so why is it that my feelings are still here.

Flying Sparks

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Chapter 2

“Hazardous? I’ll show that manipulative, misanthropic, anti-establishment cretin just what hazardous means if he thinks I’m going to fold on this!”
The sound of vigorous guitar riffs made a fitting accompaniment to the angry tirade despite originating on opposite sides of the communal area. Ama was glaring at a laptop that sat on a stained oak desk shoved against the large table near the kitchen. She tapped a fingernail on the wood as she read through the alert.
“And what violation of basic human dignity has her royal prudishness’s undies in a bunch?” Em demanded with an affected sneer without looking up from his guitar scales.
“Oh you’ll agree with this one tree-hugger,” Drake muttered from where he sat oiling his work boots.
“Yeah,” Donny piped up, “Finney is trying to kill a perfectly healthy fir.”
“What!” Em demanded, carefully placing his battered old acoustic guitar down in its case and darting over to look at the computer screen. “You mean apark tree?”
Despite her simmering frustration Ama allowed a small smile to flicker across her face as she continued to type.
“Get out of your pajamas and I’ll tell you,” Drake ordered pointing towards the bathroom door with a stained rag. “School starts in forty-five minutes and you still have breakfast and chores. That goes for you too Pip-squirt.”
“I hope you washed your hands before you touched our food,” Em said with a frown.
“Boot grease makes a great source of fatty acids.” Drake retorted. “Now go!”
The two smaller boys muttered in annoyance but stumbled off to follow orders.
“So what is up?” the youth asked as he bent his head back over the smooth leather of his boots.
“Mrs. Finney wants that tree down that’s blocking her perfect view of Crescent Lake.” Ama replied in a dry tone.
“One that’s clearly on park property?” Drake asked.
“Indeedy-do.” Ama replied giving the paper in front of her a glare.
“So how’s she justifying it?” Drake asked.
“As a safety hazard to her house.” Ama replied.
“And?”
The biologist groaned and rubbed her face.
“As far as I can tell the trunk is perfectly healthy. There is an old trash can lid grown into the trunk and a little discolored sap is leaking out there.”
“Frass?”
“Watch your language!” Donny interjected as he darted up to the table.
“Frass is not a bad word,” Drake stated. “Have you let the chickens out?”
“Yes, what does frass mean?” Donny asked as he started piling stir-fry onto his plate.
“Look it up.” Drake ordered him. “Emerald! Breakfast ends in ten minutes! Get your tukus down here!”
“It’s bad health to rush meals,” Em snapped out as he came down a narrow stairway with deliberate slowness.
“It’s even worse for your health to skip meals altogether,” Drake growled threateningly.
“Shut it and give me some eggs.” Em snapped back.
“Emerald Waters Undersun,” Drake hissed out through gritted teeth. “You are going to get your own eggs.”
The boy threw himself into a chair and glared at Drake with challenge in every line of his body.
“Emerald,” Ama said in a calm tone. “I think you should apologize to your cousin now.”
“Sorry I disturbed you Ama,” he offered without breaking eye contact with Drake.
“Not me, him,” Ama said.
“Sorry you had to hear that Donny.” Em said.
Ama heaved a sigh and closed her computer.
“Emerald,” Ama said.
“Do you want to eat or go hungry?” Drake demanded.
Ama glanced at him with a familiar uneasy look in her eyes and Drake fought down a wince.
“Now, Em.” she said in a patient tone.
“I’ll go hungry,” Em snapped, jumping up and stalking over to the couch.
Donny kept his eyes fixed on his plate. Ama heaved a sigh before turning back to her computer. Em wriggled on the couch for several minutes before skulking back to the table. Drake moved to intercept him but Ama stopped him with a look and he let Em serve himself. Drake cast irritated glances at the wall clock as the time crept more and more into school time.
Ama closed her computer and stood, then sighed, sat and opened it again.
“I need to pick out their report topics,” Ama muttered.
“I could do it,” Drake offered.
“You do quite enough,” Ama replied briskly, as she scanned the news. “Here you go. For Donny, malfunctions at the Lewis- McChord Air Force Base air show.” A frown creased her face. “Wow, this is pretty serious. It looks like the F-16 demonstration team nearly got killed.”
Drake whistled and leaned over her shoulder.
“Multiple system failures,” he read out loud. “I am pretty sure that isn’t supposed to happen.”
“Nope,” Ama agreed. “Here is a topic on big game management for Em.”
“Reports due by next week?” Drake asked as the old printer on the desk began to squeal and grumble as it powered up.
“Same as usual,” Ama confirmed.
Drake put the printouts on top of the homework pile and moved to wash up the breakfast dishes.
“I need to get to work early today so you two be good for Drake,” she called out placing a quick kiss on top of the smaller boys’ heads and giving Drake’s shoulder a friendly squeeze.
“Good luck with Mrs. Finney, and stay safe.” Drake called out as she went into her room.
The table was cleaned off and wiped down and the clink of forks gave way to the steady scratch of pencils on paper. They broke for a recess after religion and then lunch after history and math, and by the time the Grandfather clock in the corner struck two the younger boys twitching with energy. Drake made certain the internet was disconnected at the router, and chased Donny and Em out into the garden.
“And don’t come in until dark,” he ordered tossing two snack bags out after them.
Donny as usual snatched his food and disappeared into the small orachard. Low grumbles about troglodytes and the Amish wandered out into the high corn following Em and Drake shook his head in exasperation wondering, not for the first time how the dark haired princeling came from the same gene pool as his little brother. The kitchen being mostly ordered Drake was turning to put the last random dirty sock in the hamper when a gnarled hand clutching a cane head appeared in the corner of his eye, causing his heart to make a valiant attempt to bolt out of his throat.
“Abuelita!” he gasped forcing his hands down from the guard position. “Where did you come from?”
Smoldering black eyes ran searchingly over the tall youth. An impossibly long mane of streaked silver and black hair was barely contained in a thick braid. A sharply pointed nose perched over a small wrinkled mouth. A vibrant red horse-hair serape hung over her shoulders concealing everything except her brown and gnarled hands which currently clutched the old tree branch she used as a cane. Drake had been more than a little comforted by the fact that both Em and Donny had admitted to having the thought ‘witch’ every time time they saw her as well.
“From the hand of God by the bodies of my sainted mother and father,” she replied after a long, uncomfortable silence.
She always spoke in a low husky voice that suggested years of smoking, though Drake had never smelled even stale smoke on her.
“Right,” Drake blinked and grinned at the response; the one she always gave. “So you are here for their Spanish lesson? I have their grammar books ready and-”
The narrow end of the tree branch rapped against the concrete of the floor causing Drake to jump. Abuelita glared at him, locking his gaze and holding him in place with it for a moment.
“I am here for their lessons,” she finally stated, “and you are there for my payment.”
Drake thought longingly of the repair and maintenance manuals in the cab of the truck and the new tool he was itching to try, but he forced a grin on his face.
“Yes ma’am,” he said. “What can I get you today?”
Abuelita pulled out a bag of woven grass from under her serape causing the indistinct patterns on the cloth to shift and change.
“Take this,” she ordered him, “and collect me the cobalt blue berries that grow on a single stalk close to the ground. They must come from the mountain to the south east of here by the crystal brook.”
Drake nodded, and took the little bag, he didn’t quite manage to infused his gestures with enthusiasm he supposed. The old woman, probably wouldn’t have noted it anyway. She turned and moved towards the garden door without waiting for any other reply. However she called out over her shoulder as he turned to find his own way out of the rambling structure.
“Don’t dawdle little one. A storm brews in the distance.”
He tried not to roll his eyes at that, the weather forecast was clear and eighties for the next week according to the morning fire report Ama had printed. The youth only nodded and slipped around the corner. He circled the barn and pulled a set of loose tan pants and tunic out of the cubby. The soft worn leather almost perfectly matched the forest floor for color as did the moccasins he pulled on after them. His morning running clothes were modern stuff that wicked the sweat away from him and let him speed through the forest. These were his free day clothes. The ones that let him disappear into the forest and wander. Abuelita, for all of her demands, would tend Em and Donny until he returned no matter how late that was, and with the Park’s yearly budget talks still under way it was highly unlikely Ama would be home until long after the sun had set. Despite still hearing the call of the half restored truck he felt something lossening in him already. The soft cotton and smooth leather rested easily against his skin and Drake slipped into the forest.
Freedom; for the moment at least, blissful freedom. Pushing aside the guilt that accompanied the thought as well as any lingering worries about his charges the youth let his legs carry him through the trees. He shunned the man made paths, following the faint animal trails. This close to the barn they were as clear to him as if they were named city streets. Being animal trails, they invariably led him to water. Today he stopped at a trickling stream, took off his moccasins, and rolled up his pants legs. The youth turned and followed the thin flow of icy water upstream, letting it steal the heat from his body through his feet.
Some distance upstream, the stream widened and pooled under a boulder. There Drake paused and pulled an old black compass out of his pocket. Behind him he knew every trail and tree. Ahead was a broad swath of National Wilderness he would have to cross, or possibly Bureau of Land Management or even state managed forests where he more rarely wandered. It was hard to tell where the boundaries were from the ground. The clearing he wanted for the berries was solidly in BLM land and he still had quite a ways to go to get there. The stand of timber that stood between him and his goal was dense with young tree and branches that frequently formed impenetrable hedges he had to track around and he checked his compass regularly as he climbed in elevation. Even so the youth found he had wandered too far off his route and had to correct when he spotted the boundary fence. However he was in no hurry and he reached the clearing long before the sun told him it was time to turn around.
Sometime in the past some unknown force had carved a shallow trench across the side of one of the small mountains that that dotted the wilderness. It had puzzled Drake at first. The scour was at the wrong angle to be an old rock slide, and terminated in a near perfectly circular clearing at the lower end. Centuries old Douglas Firs abruptly gave way to a second ring only a few decades old. Those were in turn beginning to produce cones and a smattering of knee high saplings. The rest of the space was completely given over to wildflowers. No matter what season Drake visited it he found a riot of life.
There had been an early spring and many herbs that normally would have waited a month or more were already in full bloom in the mountain meadow. A white wave of foamflower washed in from the deep forest surrounding the clearing, sending up knee high stalks covered in the delicate white blooms. Late trillium hid close to the roots of the great firs, many having shed their white corollas and begun to put forth their bulbous seed heads. Fuzzy white baneberry blossoms nodded gently in the breeze. A riot of yellow and purple spread across the ground as vetch and buttercups and a host of clovers competed for space in the open sun. Great stalks of lupine as high as his head thrust up their purple and blue proudly from thick clusters of palm shaped leaves. Pink shooting stars and violet harebells crouched under the protection of the larger plants. Indian paintbrush lit the scene with flames of red and orange. Where a spring seeped into the meadow elephant’s head flared neon pink and corydalis bushes put forth blushing blooms. Pale green wild orchids stood along the wet spot and the swarms of bees danced from them to the glacier lilies.
Sometimes, as he bent over a tiny blossom and traced the intricate network of veins in the petals, drank in the scent, and felt the smooth surface of the leaves an otherworldly feeling would come over him. It was as if there was another world just out of range of his senses. If he could only really look, the thin illusion that was blocking him would slip away and reveal the real world underneath it.
“Look Awiegwa,” his father would whisper, pointing at a deer mouse perched on a fallen log. “What does it see?”
Awiegwa would screw up his face and squint. Trying to find the answer to the question.
Awiegwa had often wondered how so many flowers had come to be in the relatively small area. He had identified dozens of species and there were more he had yet to determine. The clearing was always the first place to bloom and the last to go dormant. Many of the flowers seemed to utterly defy their usual blooming patterns. However, as time passed he had simply come to accept it. It was one of the small good things that brought back the memories of his father. If it didn’t quite follow the rules Ama had taught him, well an impossible clearing in the mountains wasn’t a place for rules.
The particular bloom that Abuelita had requested had taken full advantage of the early sun and had already put forth a few cobalt blue berries; easily spotted at the edge of the clearing in the delicate sea of white flowers.
However before he left the shade of the forest for the meadow the youth paused and closed his eyes. Bole wasn’t always here, but he was often enough that Awiegwa always checked for him. Carefully he reconstructed the clearing in his mind; marking every tree and boulder on the edge. Three years he had been coming here and each time it was easier to recreate the clearing. Breathing evenly he opened his eyes, letting the mental image merge with the actual. There was a brief moment of confusion as details like the play of light through branches and the trembling of small clusters of flowers fixed themselves but there was only one truly jarring note. Awiegwa didn’t let his eyes focus on the disparity; he never did anymore, but a warm smile spread across his features as he slipped silently into the meadow.
He was here. As the youth moved in a low crouch, gathering the first fruits of the Queen’s Cup, he let his peripheral vision linger on a particular snag. There was nothing obviously interesting about it, other than the fact that it had not been there the last time Awiegwa was here. He had named the wanderer Bole, because it most often appeared as a thick tree trunk; sometimes living, sometimes dead. Occasionally it would be a boulder or simply a mound in the dirt. Often it wasn’t in the clearing at all. If the youth moved forward and tried to closely examine it he could never find anything to suggest it was something other than a tree or rock.
He had thought about taking a sample occasionally, had taken his knife out to do just that more than once, but something always held him back. Bole was a part of this place. Dissecting him would be too much like attempting to dissect his sense of his father’s presence here. The youth had never told anyone about this place, not even Ama with who could get most things out of him easily enough. Down at the house, in town, when he was Drake; solid, reliable, first up in the morning, two grades ahead in school with a penchant for science Drake, a productive member of modern society with a promising future and his mother smiling at him. Here he could be Awiegwa. Here he could believe in the ancient medicines his father had dug out of dusty old tomes and brought to life from the forest litter. Every time Awiegwa left the clearing and headed back towards home reality would reassert itself. Bole would resolve back into a figment of his imagination, created from pride in a somewhat better than average memory and what the social workers had called an “intriguing imagination”. When he reached the house and become solidly Drake again flickers of embarrassment would begin eating at him for letting his senses trick him like that, but as long as the blooms nodded around him in this garden Bole could exist even on a Thursday.
The little woven grass bag filled up with the berries fairly quickly and Awiegwa soon stretched out of his crouch and let his gaze wander contentedly over the clearing. As it always did, the warm space was working its special magic. Worries about Em getting out of his schoolwork, of not paying enough attention to the quiet Donny, of letting Ama see his petty resentments: it had all melted away from his muscles, thoughts of college costs and abandoning his duties dissolved into an acute sense of the now. The leaves rustled softly in a barely-there breeze, the heavy scent of some unidentified blossom filled his lungs, a dozen shades of green framed the rainbow of flowers, and over and above it all the creaking of the firs as the wind played over them. It was at times like these that he felth he could almost see into heaven; that something wonderful that existed just beyond his senses, and all he had to do was reach out and claim it.
The youth took a deep breath and let himself fall backwards onto a handy rise in the forest floor. His path had taken him to the foot of the snag and he shifted slightly to align himself with the gnarled roots. One hand gripped a time smoothed root.
“Ama trusted me enough to go out of state,” he murmured. “That’s the first time she’s done that. Usually she has Abulita stay with us to fend off the Harsh, but she said it’s long past legal now.”
It was his imagination of course that made him think the root vibrated in his hand in response. Many a long hour he had spent in this clearing with the wanderer. He had poured out his frustrations and anguishes over life’s injustices, had shared his secrets as he grew, and had shouted his triumphs. Sometimes he felt closer to Bole than to any of his human friends. However, something that sounded like his mother’s voice warned him that there was something odd about this and that awareness was the main reason he had kept this place secret from Ama. Their mother hadn’t exactly liked stuff like that. She had never objected to his father’s digging up the old stories of her people. Making cross generational connections between elders, who more often than not lived isolated lives, and the next generation, was an admirable goal in of itself in her eyes; objectively a social good. Storytelling was only the natural course for these relationships to take, but subtle looks had warned even a very young Drake that it was best to cautious what he shared with his mother. At least of those things that couldn’t be placed on a microscope slide. So this was Awigewa’s place, and while his father’s spirit wanders the flowers with he had never felt his mother here.
He let his focus drift up, and up. Dark blue Lupine nodded over his head framing the faint crisscross of jet contrails that threw a light haze over an otherwise cloudless sky. His clothed grew deliciously hot from the spring sun. The ground too had eagerly accepted the energy and now it conducted the heat into the muscles of his back. Bole’s wood beneath him was warmer even than the surrounding ground and an idle thought traced across Awiegwa’s awareness; something about it being odd for the light colored wood and relatively dry wood to retain more heat than the darker soil surrounding it. His mind was filled with the impression of a goal. He had been meaning to do, something. Something fun, yes, exploring, he’d meant to see if whatever had dug that den by the second boulder was cubing this year. He would just get up and do that in a minute. His back was so warm and comfortable.
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“Flying Sparks”
Another foray into the lives of Drake McCarty, Ama Love, and the rest of their siblings as they discover that something alien is out in the forest around their home.
https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/flying-sparks-a-novel-of-dragon-bear-and-boy/coming_soon
#FlyingSparks #ScienceFiction #Scifi #Story #novel #book #DrakeMcCarty #AmaLove #Donny #Em #Bard #Bole #Aliens #Spaceships #Crystals #fireflies #NPS #NationalPark #Doctor #Sever #family #storm #writing #reading #drama #literature #author #BettyAdams #DyingEmbers #Dragons #ThingsThatGoBoomp #Indiegogo #CrowdFunding

Flying Sparks Pre Order Now Chapter 2 “Hazardous? I’ll show that manipulative, misanthropic, anti-establishment cretin just what hazardous means if he thinks I’m going to fold on this!” The sound of vigorous guitar riffs made a fitting accompaniment to the angry tirade despite originating on opposite sides of the communal area. Ama was glaring at a laptop that sat on a stained oak desk shoved against the large table near the kitchen. She tapped a fingernail on the wood as she read through the alert. “And what violation of basic human dignity has her royal prudishness’s undies in a bunch?” Em demanded with an affected sneer without looking up from his guitar scales. “Oh you’ll agree with this one tree-hugger,” Drake muttered from where he sat oiling his work boots. “Yeah,” Donny piped up, “Finney is trying to kill a perfectly healthy fir.” “What!” Em demanded, carefully placing his battered old acoustic guitar down in its case and darting over to look at the computer screen. “You mean apark tree?” Despite her simmering frustration Ama allowed a small smile to flicker across her face as she continued to type. “Get out of your pajamas and I’ll tell you,” Drake ordered pointing towards the bathroom door with a stained rag. “School starts in forty-five minutes and you still have breakfast and chores. That goes for you too Pip-squirt.” “I hope you washed your hands before you touched our food,” Em said with a frown. “Boot grease makes a great source of fatty acids.” Drake retorted. “Now go!” The two smaller boys muttered in annoyance but stumbled off to follow orders. “So what is up?” the youth asked as he bent his head back over the smooth leather of his boots. “Mrs. Finney wants that tree down that’s blocking her perfect view of Crescent Lake.” Ama replied in a dry tone. “One that’s clearly on park property?” Drake asked. “Indeedy-do.” Ama replied giving the paper in front of her a glare. “So how’s she justifying it?” Drake asked. “As a safety hazard to her house.” Ama replied. “And?” The biologist groaned and rubbed her face. “As far as I can tell the trunk is perfectly healthy. There is an old trash can lid grown into the trunk and a little discolored sap is leaking out there.” “Frass?” “Watch your language!” Donny interjected as he darted up to the table. “Frass is not a bad word,” Drake stated. “Have you let the chickens out?” “Yes, what does frass mean?” Donny asked as he started piling stir-fry onto his plate. “Look it up.” Drake ordered him. “Emerald! Breakfast ends in ten minutes! Get your tukus down here!” “It’s bad health to rush meals,” Em snapped out as he came down a narrow stairway with deliberate slowness. “It’s even worse for your health to skip meals altogether,” Drake growled threateningly. “Shut it and give me some eggs.” Em snapped back. “Emerald Waters Undersun,” Drake hissed out through gritted teeth. “You are going to get your own eggs.” The boy threw himself into a chair and glared at Drake with challenge in every line of his body. “Emerald,” Ama said in a calm tone. “I think you should apologize to your cousin now.” “Sorry I disturbed you Ama,” he offered without breaking eye contact with Drake. “Not me, him,” Ama said. “Sorry you had to hear that Donny.” Em said. Ama heaved a sigh and closed her computer. “Emerald,” Ama said. “Do you want to eat or go hungry?” Drake demanded. Ama glanced at him with a familiar uneasy look in her eyes and Drake fought down a wince. “Now, Em.” she said in a patient tone. “I’ll go hungry,” Em snapped, jumping up and stalking over to the couch. Donny kept his eyes fixed on his plate. Ama heaved a sigh before turning back to her computer. Em wriggled on the couch for several minutes before skulking back to the table. Drake moved to intercept him but Ama stopped him with a look and he let Em serve himself. Drake cast irritated glances at the wall clock as the time crept more and more into school time. Ama closed her computer and stood, then sighed, sat and opened it again. “I need to pick out their report topics,” Ama muttered. “I could do it,” Drake offered. “You do quite enough,” Ama replied briskly, as she scanned the news. “Here you go. For Donny, malfunctions at the Lewis- McChord Air Force Base air show.” A frown creased her face. “Wow, this is pretty serious. It looks like the F-16 demonstration team nearly got killed.” Drake whistled and leaned over her shoulder. “Multiple system failures,” he read out loud. “I am pretty sure that isn’t supposed to happen.” “Nope,” Ama agreed. “Here is a topic on big game management for Em.” “Reports due by next week?” Drake asked as the old printer on the desk began to squeal and grumble as it powered up. “Same as usual,” Ama confirmed. Drake put the printouts on top of the homework pile and moved to wash up the breakfast dishes. “I need to get to work early today so you two be good for Drake,” she called out placing a quick kiss on top of the smaller boys’ heads and giving Drake’s shoulder a friendly squeeze. “Good luck with Mrs. Finney, and stay safe.” Drake called out as she went into her room. The table was cleaned off and wiped down and the clink of forks gave way to the steady scratch of pencils on paper. They broke for a recess after religion and then lunch after history and math, and by the time the Grandfather clock in the corner struck two the younger boys twitching with energy. Drake made certain the internet was disconnected at the router, and chased Donny and Em out into the garden. “And don’t come in until dark,” he ordered tossing two snack bags out after them. Donny as usual snatched his food and disappeared into the small orachard. Low grumbles about troglodytes and the Amish wandered out into the high corn following Em and Drake shook his head in exasperation wondering, not for the first time how the dark haired princeling came from the same gene pool as his little brother. The kitchen being mostly ordered Drake was turning to put the last random dirty sock in the hamper when a gnarled hand clutching a cane head appeared in the corner of his eye, causing his heart to make a valiant attempt to bolt out of his throat. “Abuelita!” he gasped forcing his hands down from the guard position. “Where did you come from?” Smoldering black eyes ran searchingly over the tall youth. An impossibly long mane of streaked silver and black hair was barely contained in a thick braid. A sharply pointed nose perched over a small wrinkled mouth. A vibrant red horse-hair serape hung over her shoulders concealing everything except her brown and gnarled hands which currently clutched the old tree branch she used as a cane. Drake had been more than a little comforted by the fact that both Em and Donny had admitted to having the thought ‘witch’ every time time they saw her as well. “From the hand of God by the bodies of my sainted mother and father,” she replied after a long, uncomfortable silence. She always spoke in a low husky voice that suggested years of smoking, though Drake had never smelled even stale smoke on her. “Right,” Drake blinked and grinned at the response; the one she always gave. “So you are here for their Spanish lesson? I have their grammar books ready and-” The narrow end of the tree branch rapped against the concrete of the floor causing Drake to jump. Abuelita glared at him, locking his gaze and holding him in place with it for a moment. “I am here for their lessons,” she finally stated, “and you are there for my payment.” Drake thought longingly of the repair and maintenance manuals in the cab of the truck and the new tool he was itching to try, but he forced a grin on his face. “Yes ma’am,” he said. “What can I get you today?” Abuelita pulled out a bag of woven grass from under her serape causing the indistinct patterns on the cloth to shift and change. “Take this,” she ordered him, “and collect me the cobalt blue berries that grow on a single stalk close to the ground. They must come from the mountain to the south east of here by the crystal brook.” Drake nodded, and took the little bag, he didn’t quite manage to infused his gestures with enthusiasm he supposed. The old woman, probably wouldn’t have noted it anyway. She turned and moved towards the garden door without waiting for any other reply. However she called out over her shoulder as he turned to find his own way out of the rambling structure. “Don’t dawdle little one. A storm brews in the distance.” He tried not to roll his eyes at that, the weather forecast was clear and eighties for the next week according to the morning fire report Ama had printed. The youth only nodded and slipped around the corner. He circled the barn and pulled a set of loose tan pants and tunic out of the cubby. The soft worn leather almost perfectly matched the forest floor for color as did the moccasins he pulled on after them. His morning running clothes were modern stuff that wicked the sweat away from him and let him speed through the forest. These were his free day clothes. The ones that let him disappear into the forest and wander. Abuelita, for all of her demands, would tend Em and Donny until he returned no matter how late that was, and with the Park’s yearly budget talks still under way it was highly unlikely Ama would be home until long after the sun had set. Despite still hearing the call of the half restored truck he felt something lossening in him already. The soft cotton and smooth leather rested easily against his skin and Drake slipped into the forest. Freedom; for the moment at least, blissful freedom. Pushing aside the guilt that accompanied the thought as well as any lingering worries about his charges the youth let his legs carry him through the trees. He shunned the man made paths, following the faint animal trails. This close to the barn they were as clear to him as if they were named city streets. Being animal trails, they invariably led him to water. Today he stopped at a trickling stream, took off his moccasins, and rolled up his pants legs. The youth turned and followed the thin flow of icy water upstream, letting it steal the heat from his body through his feet. Some distance upstream, the stream widened and pooled under a boulder. There Drake paused and pulled an old black compass out of his pocket. Behind him he knew every trail and tree. Ahead was a broad swath of National Wilderness he would have to cross, or possibly Bureau of Land Management or even state managed forests where he more rarely wandered. It was hard to tell where the boundaries were from the ground. The clearing he wanted for the berries was solidly in BLM land and he still had quite a ways to go to get there. The stand of timber that stood between him and his goal was dense with young tree and branches that frequently formed impenetrable hedges he had to track around and he checked his compass regularly as he climbed in elevation. Even so the youth found he had wandered too far off his route and had to correct when he spotted the boundary fence. However he was in no hurry and he reached the clearing long before the sun told him it was time to turn around. Sometime in the past some unknown force had carved a shallow trench across the side of one of the small mountains that that dotted the wilderness. It had puzzled Drake at first. The scour was at the wrong angle to be an old rock slide, and terminated in a near perfectly circular clearing at the lower end. Centuries old Douglas Firs abruptly gave way to a second ring only a few decades old. Those were in turn beginning to produce cones and a smattering of knee high saplings. The rest of the space was completely given over to wildflowers. No matter what season Drake visited it he found a riot of life. There had been an early spring and many herbs that normally would have waited a month or more were already in full bloom in the mountain meadow. A white wave of foamflower washed in from the deep forest surrounding the clearing, sending up knee high stalks covered in the delicate white blooms. Late trillium hid close to the roots of the great firs, many having shed their white corollas and begun to put forth their bulbous seed heads. Fuzzy white baneberry blossoms nodded gently in the breeze. A riot of yellow and purple spread across the ground as vetch and buttercups and a host of clovers competed for space in the open sun. Great stalks of lupine as high as his head thrust up their purple and blue proudly from thick clusters of palm shaped leaves. Pink shooting stars and violet harebells crouched under the protection of the larger plants. Indian paintbrush lit the scene with flames of red and orange. Where a spring seeped into the meadow elephant’s head flared neon pink and corydalis bushes put forth blushing blooms. Pale green wild orchids stood along the wet spot and the swarms of bees danced from them to the glacier lilies. Sometimes, as he bent over a tiny blossom and traced the intricate network of veins in the petals, drank in the scent, and felt the smooth surface of the leaves an otherworldly feeling would come over him. It was as if there was another world just out of range of his senses. If he could only really look, the thin illusion that was blocking him would slip away and reveal the real world underneath it. “Look Awiegwa,” his father would whisper, pointing at a deer mouse perched on a fallen log. “What does it see?” Awiegwa would screw up his face and squint. Trying to find the answer to the question. Awiegwa had often wondered how so many flowers had come to be in the relatively small area. He had identified dozens of species and there were more he had yet to determine. The clearing was always the first place to bloom and the last to go dormant. Many of the flowers seemed to utterly defy their usual blooming patterns. However, as time passed he had simply come to accept it. It was one of the small good things that brought back the memories of his father. If it didn’t quite follow the rules Ama had taught him, well an impossible clearing in the mountains wasn’t a place for rules. The particular bloom that Abuelita had requested had taken full advantage of the early sun and had already put forth a few cobalt blue berries; easily spotted at the edge of the clearing in the delicate sea of white flowers. However before he left the shade of the forest for the meadow the youth paused and closed his eyes. Bole wasn’t always here, but he was often enough that Awiegwa always checked for him. Carefully he reconstructed the clearing in his mind; marking every tree and boulder on the edge. Three years he had been coming here and each time it was easier to recreate the clearing. Breathing evenly he opened his eyes, letting the mental image merge with the actual. There was a brief moment of confusion as details like the play of light through branches and the trembling of small clusters of flowers fixed themselves but there was only one truly jarring note. Awiegwa didn’t let his eyes focus on the disparity; he never did anymore, but a warm smile spread across his features as he slipped silently into the meadow. He was here. As the youth moved in a low crouch, gathering the first fruits of the Queen’s Cup, he let his peripheral vision linger on a particular snag. There was nothing obviously interesting about it, other than the fact that it had not been there the last time Awiegwa was here. He had named the wanderer Bole, because it most often appeared as a thick tree trunk; sometimes living, sometimes dead. Occasionally it would be a boulder or simply a mound in the dirt. Often it wasn’t in the clearing at all. If the youth moved forward and tried to closely examine it he could never find anything to suggest it was something other than a tree or rock. He had thought about taking a sample occasionally, had taken his knife out to do just that more than once, but something always held him back. Bole was a part of this place. Dissecting him would be too much like attempting to dissect his sense of his father’s presence here. The youth had never told anyone about this place, not even Ama with who could get most things out of him easily enough. Down at the house, in town, when he was Drake; solid, reliable, first up in the morning, two grades ahead in school with a penchant for science Drake, a productive member of modern society with a promising future and his mother smiling at him. Here he could be Awiegwa. Here he could believe in the ancient medicines his father had dug out of dusty old tomes and brought to life from the forest litter. Every time Awiegwa left the clearing and headed back towards home reality would reassert itself. Bole would resolve back into a figment of his imagination, created from pride in a somewhat better than average memory and what the social workers had called an “intriguing imagination”. When he reached the house and become solidly Drake again flickers of embarrassment would begin eating at him for letting his senses trick him like that, but as long as the blooms nodded around him in this garden Bole could exist even on a Thursday. The little woven grass bag filled up with the berries fairly quickly and Awiegwa soon stretched out of his crouch and let his gaze wander contentedly over the clearing. As it always did, the warm space was working its special magic. Worries about Em getting out of his schoolwork, of not paying enough attention to the quiet Donny, of letting Ama see his petty resentments: it had all melted away from his muscles, thoughts of college costs and abandoning his duties dissolved into an acute sense of the now. The leaves rustled softly in a barely-there breeze, the heavy scent of some unidentified blossom filled his lungs, a dozen shades of green framed the rainbow of flowers, and over and above it all the creaking of the firs as the wind played over them. It was at times like these that he felth he could almost see into heaven; that something wonderful that existed just beyond his senses, and all he had to do was reach out and claim it. The youth took a deep breath and let himself fall backwards onto a handy rise in the forest floor. His path had taken him to the foot of the snag and he shifted slightly to align himself with the gnarled roots. One hand gripped a time smoothed root. “Ama trusted me enough to go out of state,” he murmured. “That’s the first time she’s done that. Usually she has Abulita stay with us to fend off the Harsh, but she said it’s long past legal now.” It was his imagination of course that made him think the root vibrated in his hand in response. Many a long hour he had spent in this clearing with the wanderer. He had poured out his frustrations and anguishes over life’s injustices, had shared his secrets as he grew, and had shouted his triumphs. Sometimes he felt closer to Bole than to any of his human friends. However, something that sounded like his mother’s voice warned him that there was something odd about this and that awareness was the main reason he had kept this place secret from Ama. Their mother hadn’t exactly liked stuff like that. She had never objected to his father’s digging up the old stories of her people. Making cross generational connections between elders, who more often than not lived isolated lives, and the next generation, was an admirable goal in of itself in her eyes; objectively a social good. Storytelling was only the natural course for these relationships to take, but subtle looks had warned even a very young Drake that it was best to cautious what he shared with his mother. At least of those things that couldn’t be placed on a microscope slide. So this was Awigewa’s place, and while his father’s spirit wanders the flowers with he had never felt his mother here. He let his focus drift up, and up. Dark blue Lupine nodded over his head framing the faint crisscross of jet contrails that threw a light haze over an otherwise cloudless sky. His clothed grew deliciously hot from the spring sun. The ground too had eagerly accepted the energy and now it conducted the heat into the muscles of his back. Bole’s wood beneath him was warmer even than the surrounding ground and an idle thought traced across Awiegwa’s awareness; something about it being odd for the light colored wood and relatively dry wood to retain more heat than the darker soil surrounding it. His mind was filled with the impression of a goal. He had been meaning to do, something. Something fun, yes, exploring, he’d meant to see if whatever had dug that den by the second boulder was cubing this year. He would just get up and do that in a minute. His back was so warm and comfortable. “Flying Sparks” Another foray into the lives of Drake McCarty, Ama Love, and the rest of their siblings as they discover that something alien is out in the forest around their home. https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/flying-sparks-a-novel-of-dragon-bear-and-boy/coming_soon #FlyingSparks #ScienceFiction #Scifi #Story #novel #book #DrakeMcCarty #AmaLove #Donny #Em #Bard #Bole #Aliens #Spaceships #Crystals #fireflies #NPS #NationalPark #Doctor #Sever #family #storm #writing #reading #drama #literature #author #BettyAdams #DyingEmbers #Dragons #ThingsThatGoBoomp #Indiegogo #CrowdFunding

I've been wanting to get back into DCUO but I used to play on my Ps4 now I moved to PC gaming, so I was wondering if I could transfer my account though maybe linking Daybreak to my Ps4 some how? idk someone please bring light to my problem !! tysm

I was just getting back on my feet in my dream college at 21 years old, and I got my gf pregnant. We went back and forth on adoption and didn’t know whether we’d keep the baby or not but at the last minute my gf decided to keep it but do an open adoption. We received so much flack from family members because of the adoption yet we were firm in the decision. Soon, my mom in particular got into my head saying that she would disown me if I did sign adoption papers and her dad did the same. They were outright selfish. I know we were wrong for having pre marital sex and were irresponsible but we came up with an educated solution. We found a perfect family who had chosen our daughter through numerous interviews. Now, our lives are ruined. We don’t love nor even like each other anymore, and now I’m being pushed to marry her. I’m currently at her house and I want to commit suicide. I feel trapped. Now, I don’t even know how I’ll be able to complete my studies. I just want out of this situation but there’s no way out. If I abandon my family I’m wrong, if I’m a bum father I’m also wrong and also if I kill myself I am seen as selfish. My life a year ago was much more pleasant and I long for those days. I plan on killing my self by the end of the year.

Hi! I'm a 20 year old queer guy looking for someone I can send correspondence to about my interests and passions who will tell me all about theirs. I love hearing about other peoples passions and how they light up when they talk about something that genuinely excites them. Though, all my interests are like super fucking dorky so I'll get along best with someone like that!! I kinda wanna save explaining in depth what my interests and obsessions are for but the general rundown is that I like film, music, manga/manhwa, and making digital art. Hope to hear from you, please introduce yourself and tell me your ideal method of contact! I'm fine with reddit DM and email.

TW: threats possible abuse psych ward mentions medicine mentions
To start this is big for me because I have adhd and possible (HIGHLY likely) autism I haven't been diagnosed with autism but I have with adhd. Yesterday a package came for me it was a gudetama stress toy that threw up slime. I had accidently left it downstairs it was fine and in perfect condition when I left it (I forget things often due to adhd) today I learned my sister played with it when I had left it don't know when but she got it filthy and you can't clean slime.
For context my sister is almost 20 still in high school and hasn't been actually punished in years she doesn't do her school work and got kicked out right before graduation because of it because she's always on a device. She's snippy rude and verbally (sometimes physically to me) abusive. She constantly threatens to kill and harm me and often yells over stupid things.
Now I HATE others touching my things and moving them let alone ruining them I can't stand it I feel violated (if that makes sense) when that happens (btw my sister never gets grounded even when she hits me or throws things at me or threatens me she never gets in trouble and I've felt unsafe enough where I would have to grab knives because of her) so I blew up when I found out and demanded her to be grounded ( I know it was childish ) but she said that "she has adhd which makes her curious and has to touch things" and my grandma wouldn't Ground her or let my mom Ground her and I feel like no one ever listens to me or cares about me and how I feel only my sister and how she feels I'm always their scape goat and I'm always fighting with them and being yelled at.
I tried to explain to them how I felt and articulated my words to the best of my ability but they won't listen and I don't know what to do I often flinch if I think someone's gonna hit me or stuff at me and I'm just so tired and sick of this. I feel like if I blow up or get upset I'm in trouble and I'm wrong and I should calm down cus it's not a big deal, but if she yells at them for them even calling her name
I also feel neglected my mother is always on her devices and gets mad at me when I want her attention (it's always been like this) she's bipolar and often blows up on me or makes me deal with her mood swings they always bring me into money issues or talks about them around me she won't get off work for appointments or councilor she won't take me to counciling because "it doesn't work" even though I need it due to stress she won't get me into a med doctor (I have severe anxitey a mood disorder and sleep problems that I needed to take meds for) I haven't been to the doctor in 2 years dentis in over 5 And everyone uses me as their therapist and are always venting to me and dumping problems onto me I can't take it anymore.
My mother often uses my physc ward visit against me and guilts me often. I'm just so so tired and I wish I could get out. they never respect my boundaries of not wanting anything to do with bills or rantings and guilt me when I try to enforce said boundaries I've been doing this since I was 6. I feel like an adult and I'm so tired of it I don't know what to do.
Sorry for such a Long rant and sorry for alot of text any advice would be appreciated

I bought my 2021 crosstrek new and it has light grey seats. I’m worried about staining in the future and would like some recommendations on cloth seat covers that come with front and back seats. A lot of what I’m finding is the two front bucket seats or if it includes the back seat, its ambiguous as to how it fits. I would love some brands that have worked for you

I've been wanting to get back into DCUO but I used to play on my Ps4 now I moved to PC gaming, so I was wondering if I could transfer my account though maybe linking Daybreak to my Ps4 some how? idk someone please bring light to my problem !! tysm

I know others have asked similar questions & I’ve gone through them, along with lots of research and books, but it’s so much information it makes my head spin and I get very confused as to what I should and shouldn’t do given the conflicting info. I’m hoping some of y’all will have some good insight.
First, I wanna note that I’ve done (2) 7-day dry fasts and (1) 9-day dry fast along with multiple 3-5 day fasts over the last two years so I’m not a novice faster. I am, however, not great at my prep and re-feed. I’ve gone back and forth between carnivore and animal based the last 2 years so prep/re-feed with appropriate foods for this way of eating. My previous fasts were all done at home while still working and doing everyday things. I work in property management and it’s extremely fast paced and I have to talk to people all day long so as you can imagine, it makes fasting a lot harder. For this fast, I’ll be going to my grandmothers for 3 weeks. She lives surrounded by woods with only 2 neighbors within a couple miles of her, so it’s a great environment for the “perfect” fast- no work, no stress, no real tasks. Just sleeping, walking, getting a little sun, relaxing. Because this will be the only time I have to fast in this preferred environment, I’m very serious about taking the proper steps from start to finish.
Any advice on what to eat to prepare for this and for how long and same with re-feeding is much appreciated!! Fasting + Carnivore worked wonders for my tinnitus and other symptoms but the last couple months, I’ve had a nasty flare with no answers as to why and it’s killing me so I’m very very motivated for this fast. My 9 day fast completely eradicated all symptoms, but they came back a couple days after the re-feed (just not nearly as bad). I think I need to push to the 11 days and have a good re-feed to get full eradication.

So we are doing a long term roleplay where we are stranded out at sea in the Pacific Ocean. I’m going to crash from the most recent plane that has went past.
I play as this very attractive woman who is very athletic and has good survival instincts like making a fire, cooking etc. I can’t kill animals since I’m not trained at all
You play as someone who’s lived on the island for around a year or two that has also crash landed on the island. You’ve learned how to adapt to the island and have set up a nice hut that can only fit you inside since you thought you’ll never see another person ever again.
I land on the island in a raft the plane just outside of the coast some supplies on the raft and some coming to shore. You come to check it out and you don’t see me at first until you climb in the raft and you see that I have an open wound from a piece of glass. You take me in a raft with supplies and you aid me to health until I come to waking up.
(Could I also get a ref of your character)

Subtitle: Public's Curiosity Sparks Questions Regarding Mark Robinson's Sexual Orientation
Date: May 31, 2023
In recent days, North Carolina Lieutenant Governor Mark Robinson has found himself in the midst of an unexpected controversy surrounding his personal life. Speculation and curiosity about his sexual orientation have taken center stage, leaving many residents and political observers wondering about the validity of these claims. While it is important to respect an individual's privacy, the public's interest has sparked questions about Robinson's personal life.
The controversy began when a series of rumors started circulating on social media platforms, suggesting that Robinson, who has been a prominent figure in North Carolina politics, might identify as gay. While there is no concrete evidence to support these claims, they have gained traction and led to a heated discussion among supporters, opponents, and the general public alike.
Critics argue that discussing an individual's sexual orientation without factual basis is an invasion of privacy and an unnecessary distraction from more pressing political matters. They emphasize the importance of focusing on Lieutenant Governor Robinson's actions and policies rather than speculating about his personal life.
However, supporters of the speculation argue that public figures, especially those in high-ranking positions, should be transparent about their personal lives. They contend that understanding an elected official's sexual orientation could be relevant in ensuring fair representation and promoting LGBTQ+ rights, should Robinson be a member of the community.
It is essential to note that Lieutenant Governor Robinson has not addressed these rumors directly, and his private life has remained largely out of the public eye. As such, any claims or speculation about his sexual orientation are currently unfounded and should be treated as such until official information becomes available.
In light of this controversy, many are now questioning the appropriateness of delving into an individual's personal life, particularly when it comes to elected officials. Should an individual's sexual orientation matter in the context of their political career? Is it fair to expect public figures to disclose their personal lives? These questions raise important considerations about privacy, representation, and the public's right to know.
As the discussion continues, it remains to be seen how Lieutenant Governor Mark Robinson will address these rumors, if at all. Ultimately, the focus should shift back to his policies, actions, and the impact he has on the state of North Carolina rather than engaging in unfounded speculation about his personal life.

I am a prostitute. A married man reached out to me wanting an appointment, and I had to turn him down. I really could have used that $1000 he was going to give me to spend time with him. But I just can't. This is too much.
He had 5+ kids with his wife. He and his wife taught marriage courses for the church. He had pictures of himself visiting some known faces in the church. I am sure they married in the church.
Sex with married men just comes with the job and it's a huge income loss if you only stick with unmarried men. I've seen pictures of them with their wives and their "perfect families" during background checks I do on my clients before seeing them (with their consent). Their wives are respectable people. Women with well respected careers. Educated. Some of them even very beautiful. None of them were practicing Catholics or married in the church for all I know. I try not to judge because I don't know what's really going on between my clients and their partners. Sometimes I do wonder why married men are with me when they have a wife at home, for free. Why are they spending $3000 on me when they could have taken their wife out with that money? (maybe they already do)
People get married for all sorts of reasons, both good and bad. Both genuine and selfish. Maybe some of these marriages are based off social prestige, what they can get out of the marriage, to have that white picket fence and children enrolled in private school. "My wife the tenured professor at a prestigious university, and I am the type of man who can land a wife like that."
Maybe they really did marry out of love, and there was a disconnect somewhere down the road. Maybe he disappointed the wife and it killed her desire to be intimate with him, and there is a lack of communication and they began drifting apart until there was a dead bedroom situation.
Maybe he realized the wife never genuinely loved him at all, and just married him for the social aspect, the financial support, or to have a responsible and "acceptable" father for her children and once she got what she wanted, she stopped caring about his needs. Or he resents her for marrying him out of what he can offer, even though he will never admit how much he really pines for her genuine love and admiration.
Maybe she did love him, but he felt she knew him too well and not the idea of him that he wanted to portray to her. He feels he blundered too much in front of her or disappointed her too much, and now he needs a new person who doesn't know him, with fresh set of eyes, who he can pretend to be the type of man he wishes he was. He can't love the woman who can still love the man he really is, because not even he loves the man he really is.
Maybe the husband never really loved or respected the wife at all in the first place, and married her as a way of just possessing her like a car model while he cheats behind her back with a younger and tighter model, "as long as she doesn't know, nothing is wrong". He views women (and people in general) as possessions or fillers for roles in the movie he is playing in his head (where he is the main character), and not as individuals he needs to get along with or be accountable to.
Maybe the husband is pining for something that has nothing to do with his wife, like the desire to feel young again, and he only feels as young as the woman he is sleeping with.
It's one thing to be some random noncatholic guy who doesn't view marriage as a sacrament and neither does your wife, and you married your wife out of social expectations or secular desires and has no second thoughts about cheating on her. It's another to be the Catholic guy who is teaching marriage courses with his wife and calling marriage a sacrament in front of god, and then cheating on her.
I wondered if the wife knew. Maybe she got so tired and put off sex after having so many kids, or has medical issues that make it difficult to have sex. Maybe she had an agreement with the husband that he could see other women - even if this is against church teaching. Similar to how a lot of catholics still use condoms and birth control, and have premarital sex. Maybe she even prefers him to see other women for sex. Maybe she neglects him and there is a lack of communication on how to solve this. Maybe she's willing and pining for him but he's put off by her, for whatever reason, and never tried to resolve this with her. I would never know their situation. But I did find out she probably doesn't know and probably never agreed to him seeing prostitutes, and this isn't the first time he saw prostitutes either.
I don't believe that men cheat simply because of something like their wife having medical issues that make intimacy difficult or impossible, or that she is too old or fat - there is always something else going on. I also don't believe the cynical but popular claim that "men are only as faithful as their options". You always have options for sex, and you can always pay for more options. But I realized it's not sex that men are really looking for, it's something else and sex is just a proxy.

The Era of Creation and the Zonai
Before The Legend of Zelda’s Earth existed, there were the Zonai. A mysterious race of creatures that could be considered gods. Among them, there were three goddesses that were considerably more powerful, and they decided to make for themselves a home. Din, who was considered to embody Power, created for them a planet. And on that planet, the Zonai began residing in what would eventually be called “The Kingdom of Hyrule.” After centuries of building monuments and living on the planet created by Din, the Zonai grew bored of this world and decided to leave. But before doing so the goddess Farore, sister of Din and the embodiment of Courage, created life to inhabit this planet, as to not waste Din’s beautiful creation.
The Era of Life and the Disappearance of the Zonai
The lifeforms created began to populate but to the dismay of the Zonai, they were chaotic and unruly. So Nayru, third of the goddesses and the embodiment of Wisdom, decided to create order and took a young woman named Sonia, who seemed to be the wisest of the lifeforms, making her Queen. But she needed a King and Rauru, a Zonai who had grown quite fond of the planet, volunteered to stay and be the King of this planet. Mineru, his sister, elected to stay as well, curious to see what would become of this planet. With Queen Sonia and King Rauru taking over the ruling the lands, the rest of the Zonai left and so the Kingdom of Hyrule was officially born.
The Era of Order and the Founding of Hyrule
After a few years or so of building up the Kingdom of Hyrule, the King and Queen had a daughter and named her Hylia. She looked just like her mother and had the powers of both Sonia’s control of Time and Rauru’s mastery of Light. That was when a mysterious woman, who called herself Zelda, showed up from the future and took residence with the King and Queen. During this time, another group of lifeforms called the Gerudo where also building their kingdom but couldn’t compete with the superior technology of Hyrule and its Zonai leadership. King Ganondorf, a rare male born from the Gerudo, decided to take action against Hyrule by pretending to swear fealty. His ultimate plan being that he would surprise attack Rauru and Sonia, take over Hyrule and use their technology to create his ideal world.
The War with Ganondorf and the Last of the Zonai
After years of war with the Gerudo, Sonia is killed, her secret stone stolen by Ganon. With his newfound power he was an equal match for King Rauru, even with his sister, Mineru, and his secret stone carrying warriors aiding him. After Ganon defeated Mineru and the other warriors, King Rauru was forced to sacrifice himself to protect Hyrule and with that, the last of the Zonai were gone. Three of the secret stone warriors, the warriors of Lightning, Fire, and Ice, decided to swallow their stones and undergo “Draconification” in order to continue their service to keeping the lands of Hyrule safe, becoming Eldin, Faron and Lanayru. Peace was finally brought about and Hylia, now Queen of the Kingdom of Hyrule was left to keep order. After sensing something wrong with Din’s last creation, the Three Goddesses returned to Hyrule to find their two kin dead and Hylia, too young to rule the lands properly, was the last of their kind, even though she was only half Zonai.
The Era of Hylia, Daughter of King Rauru and Queen Sonia
So, the Three Goddesses created a new artifact, The Triforce, and bestowed it upon Hylia to protect her from the evil that Ganondorf had inspired. Thus, beginning the “Era of Hylia.” Hylia married and had a daughter of her own and named her after the mysterious woman that showed up from the future. This would result in the tradition of first-born daughters being named Zelda in the Royal Family. This era of prosperity did not last long though.
After years of pure hatred building underneath the lands of Hyrule where Ganondorf laid imprisoned, that hatred began to manifest, and Demise was born out of it. A demon of pure hatred that, upon sensing the power of the Triforce being displayed by Hylia, saw his chance, burst free from a fissure in the ground and took to war with Hylia to claim the Triforce and free Ganondorf from his prison. Hylia, in an attempt to save her people and maintain the protection of the Hylians, took them to the sky in an effort to distance herself from the depths that Ganondorf rested in. There, she created the Skyloft and gave the Hylians a new home where they could prosper, but because she was mortally wounded in the fight with Demise, she transferred her soul into the body of one of her descendants that would be born thousands of years later. A first born of the Royal Family, Zelda, princess of Skyloft.
Then Skyward Sword’s game takes place, and the Official Timeline continues onwards.
So... What do you think?
TLDR Hot Takes;
The Three Goddesses are Zonai, Hylia is the daughter of Sonia and Rauru, and Demise was born out of pure hatred from Ganondorf while he was imprisoned.

Discord Username: Lira#0001
Character Name and House: Brynden Blackwood, Heir of Raventree Hall
Age: 26
Appearance: Brynden has an outwardly brooding appearance due to his black hair and light colored skin, and because of his preference for dark clothing. His features are sharp, symmetrical, commonly regarded as pleasing to the eye. Many decide he is moody with just a glance. It may or may not be true.
Gift: Duelist
Skills: Polearm(M), Sword, Riding
Talent(s): Jousting, Dueling, Gambling
Starting Title(s): Heir of Raventree Hall
Starting Location: Feast
Family Tree: https://www.familyecho.com/?p=SBN4N&c=xglklz3jnz&f=323936472302154026 (will undergo a few changes until Bled and RW get their apps in)
—
Character Name and House: Benjicot Blackwood, Lord of Raventree Hall
Age: 49
Appearance: Benjicot has an obvious familial resemblance to his sister, the late Queen Bethany Blackwood, when it comes to facial structure and coloring. He has a full beard and mustache, and stony, distrusting eyes. He favors subdued colors and styles when it comes to clothing, and wears multiple layers, even in hot weather. He is known for his slow, careful manner of speech.
Gift: Whisperer
Skills: Cautious, Subtle(E)
Talent(s): Sharp Memory, Cyvasse, Recordkeeping
Starting Title(s): Master of Whisperers
Starting Location: Feast
—
Brynden Blackwood - Timeline
181 A.C. Brynden is the secondborn son of Benjicot Blackwood and _____ (pending). He is barely a year younger than Tytos, the heir's heir, and two share such a likeness from childhood that they are constantly mistaken for twins.
184 A.C. Bethany Blackwood, Brynden's aunt on his father's side, wed Prince Maelor Targaryen. Brynden attended the totally-not-king-approved ceremony as a child and has no recollection at all of the event, though even then, he sensed it was a sign of changing tides for his family. This prestigious marriage opened many doors, and many more friendships, with the elites of the kingdom, particularly for the nephews and nieces of the queen, who would come to hold various positions around the court—playmates, cupbearers, ladies in waiting, clerks, and normal, everyday acquaintances to the most powerful people in the realm.
185 A.C. The brothers Tytos and Brynden picked up their first playswords, sparking the boys' interest in martial pursuits. Many years later, their youngest uncle Roderik would gradually teach the boys how to fight with the sword and how to ride on horseback. Oftentimes Uncle Roose would offer his own expertise.
186 A.C. Lord Hoster Blackwood succumbed to lung sickness barely a year after witnessing the birth of Prince Daeron, his first grandchild by Queen Bethany. He died believing his grandson would one day sit the Iron Throne. Brynden's father officially became Lord of Raventree Hall. One of his first acts was to support his brother in law, Prince Maelor, in the conflict in Dorne. He sent his own brothers, Roose, Samwell, and Roderik, to assist with the fighting. Samwell was killed in the campaign.
187 A.C. Shortly after Brynden's uncle was crowned King Maelor II Targaryen, Lord Blackwood acquired a position on the small council as Master of Whisperers. It was a step up from the Riverrun title that Benjicot and Lothar Bracken had fruitlessly quarreled over for nearly a decade.
193-197 A.C. By twelve, the brothers Tytos and Brynden have become skilled with the sword. Tytos would strive to become a master, while Brynden found his attentions drifting to contests of skill. Already a talented duelist, he set his sights on the unfamiliar polearm, and horse—skills he could employ together to eke out surprising performances on the field. While Tytos dreamed of lordship, Brynden wanted nothing more than to drink in the thrill of the tourney ground, particularly in the melee and jousting arenas. In 196 AC, their cousin Prince Daeron died in a tragic accident.
198 A.C. Tytos the Heir wed the beauty Melantha Vypren against the knowledge and wishes of his father. Lord Blackwood, with the influence of his queen sister, arranges a betrothal with the heir of the Vale, Jeyne Arryn, in a bid for power. Though Brynden was disinterested in a match so far from home--both King's Landing and Raventree Hall--he reluctantly agreed, so long as his wife-to-be did not turn her nose up at his love for the duel. He accepted the counsel of his betters and began writing to his betrothed.
202 A.C. The pair exchanged letters for four years and developed an unexpected friendship and bond, so much so that Lady Jeyne agreed to meet him in Raventree Hall, an event that had catastrophic consequences and tragically led to her death in the mountains of the Vale. In the same year, Tytos the Heir was killed at the Pennytree Ford by a hostile scouting party led by the murderer, Raymund Bracken. The Blackwood party would have been decimated if not for the presence of their uncles, Roose and Roderik Blackwood, who were dealt the unenviable position of carrying their nephew's bloodied body home.
Rumors circulate regarding a thousand-gold bounty on Raymund Bracken's head--or five hundred for each of his grown children. This "rumor" continues today, but extends to any Bracken scion.
204 A.C. Queen Bethany Blackwood dies from an extended battle with a coughing sickness, following years marked with numerous miscarriages and mysterious ailments.
205 A.C. At a Maidenpool Tourney celebrating the birth of Lord Mooton's granddaughter, Sabitha Mooton, hostilities reach a boiling point. Failing to rig a match between Brynden and Raymund Bracken in the joust, the Blackwoods Roose and Roderik take matters into their own hands. They pay off fighters in the melee and orchestrate a two-on-one duel against the man's nephew, Harry Bracken, heir of Stonehedge. The lad puts up an admirable fight but there is no contest as the brothers all but butcher him for all to see. Even before it was determined the Bracken was dead, the Blackwood contingent fled Maidenpool for home, and began raising banners and allies both. Bracken did the same with fervor, and before long, thousands of men were mobilizing for war.
Lady Alyssa Tully ordered both lords to stand down--an order that was met with flat refusal. The Crown was pulled in, and King Maelor dispatched his Hand of the King to put an end to hostilities... in Blackwood's favor.
207 A.C. Brynden remains a perpetual bachelor, refusing orders to marry and ignoring threats of disinheritance. He continues his ill fated romancing and foolish carousing, much to the chagrin of his father.
---
Lord Benjicot Blackwood - Timeline ( Brynden's section covers the more recent Blackwood lore)
158 A.C. Benjicot is born to Lord Hoster Blackwood and Zia Lothston. He is the first of six. He receives tutelage and training customary for an heir, as well as a follower of The Old Gods.
160-164 A.C. His formative years were spent in winter, a time when he was often sickly. Where he failed in physical studies, he excelled in those of the mind. His mother encouraged these lessons, and over time, glimpses of his true calling manifested in the smallest of ways. He had a keen memory, almost photographic, if one judged by the journals of a boy who was fond of note taking and drawing. Over time, hundreds of books contained observations from his people watching; accounts of conversations that took place and speculation behind the purpose and meaning behind each meeting; sketches of even the most innocuous details, such as the pieces of jewelry one wore and around whom, or the peculiar smile one gave a dancing partner they should not have known well.
When he could not be physically present, he would command servants or bribe convenient witnesses to spy on his victims and report back with their findings. Over the course of many months, many years, he began to see patterns in behavior. Strange patterns that seemingly went unnoticed by the masses--details that hinted at secrets and many a backdoor dealing.
178 A.C. By the time he reached adulthood, he had obtained a mind for intrigue, as well as a method to acquire resources for his information gathering. He was wed to _____ (still pending).
180 A.C. Benjicot's first child, Tytos, is born.
181 A.C. Brynden is born, a striking copy to Tytos.
183 A.C. A third son, Quentyn, is born. Unlike his older brothers, Quentyn proves to be average in every regard except for his sharp mind, though in a different manner than Benjicot's. Quentyn is a leader, a logistician, capable of managing resources and moving pieces.
186 A.C. Following the death of Lord Hoster, Benjicot rose to lordship and simultaneously accepted the position of Master of Whisperers in Maelor II's court. He leaves command of Raventree Hall to his oldest brother, Roose Blackwood, though the power would eventually pass to Benjicot's son Quentyn.
187 A.C. After a spell of infertility, the couple welcomes their first daughter, Shiera, and her twin, Tristifer. Shiera is a difficult, needy child, traits that carry to adulthood. She has a striking resemblance to her aunt, Queen Bethany, which grants her an aura of regality. Tristifer, on the other hand, is a comely and mild mannered child, happy to go along with his older siblings' whims.
189 A.C. Lady Blackwood gives birth before passing to childbed fever. The girl is named Alys, who develops into a malleable and curious child--one accustomed to living in another's shadow and without the guidance of a mother. Like her father, Alys is observant, an artist and pupil of the world. Like her sister Shiera, she becomes a steadfast lady-in-waiting to Queen Bethany.
196 A.C. Prince Daeron Targaryen, Benjicot's nephew, dies in an accident. Shortly after, Bethany miscarries. It is not the first and many follow, each tragedy chipping away at the pillar of influence set in place by Benjicot.
201 A.C. Benjicot is displeased but not surprised when Maelor names Aegon his heir, rather than his niece, Aerea.
202 A.C. Following his son's murder, Benjicot puts bounties on Bracken heads, particularly those belonging to Raymund Bracken and his children. He removes Tytos' daughter, Betha, from the line of succession, much to the dismay of Tytos' widow.
204 A.C. Benjicot is with Maelor when news comes of Bethany's passing. He becomes a shoulder to lean on for his no-longer-goodbrother, and the friendship they had continues to grow.
205 A.C. Benjicot receives news of Maidenpool from his son, Quentyn. He is elated to hear of the Bracken's death. An eye for an eye, an heir for an heir. He sends warning to Raventree that the Hand of the King is coming.
206 A.C. Maelor confides in Benjicot his plans to remarry, and Benjicot keeps the secret, but begins making moves to cement his steadily waning power. He attempts to force Brynden into a marriage. Threats go nowhere and he resorts to arranging matches for his daughters, who he had hoped to marry to influential figures in the realm.

Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/2LvdiBK
This is one of the biggest sales I have done and its in response to some major life milestones, nothing bad but need to reprioritize and sell a lot of gear I can live without on a lot of my excess builds.
Some ground rules:

• Please try to refer to the item number, and if you want additional details or pictures I will respond as quickly as possible.
  
• This is intended to be a fundrasier for non gun stuff unfortunately and at this time NO TRADES, thanks for understanding
  
• A Dibs Takes precedence over a PM to haggle which itself takes precedence over a Question for information
  
• I have a lot going on in my life and may take a few to several days depending on how many items I sell, I try to pride myself on being as quick and reliable as possible however finding enough packing material and shipping this all will take some time - ASKING FOR A STATUS OR “haVe yOu ShipPeD yET” WILL BE IGNORED. You will get a tracking number and I will do my best effort to communicate but be forewarned.
  
• Almost all items have the OEM boxes, screws, etc unless otherwise noted you will be good to go to install on delivery
  
• Please respond within 30 minutes or less or you may be passed on for a second dibser
  
• Discounts given for bundles
  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now that that’s out of the way:
OPTICS

1. Sig Sauer Tango6 1-6 in Anodized Gray, HellfirePlex Reticle which is a dual illuminated fibeLED dot. Incredibly similar glass and performance to a Vortex Razor 1-6 in a better budget package albeit with a more straightforward reticle, capped turrets and throw lever, box and papers included - $600 shipped
   
2. PA SLx MD25 Single Dot, Gen 1 not shake awake, like new, with low mount, and riser mount with three spacer heights and all paperwork but not factory box, fantastic red dot that blends the best of a micro dot and a fullsize COMP dot - $60 shipped
   
3. Holosun 510c ery good condition with only some minor housing wear if any, red reticle, no factory box but will ship padded and insured - $220 shipped
   
4. FDE Deltapoint Pro 2.5MOA with a low mount and factory rubber cover and screws - $325 shipped
   
5. Holosun 407c V2, single dot, BIG BUTTON version, no factory box but includes screws, very good condition - $225 shipped
   

MOUNTS

1. Arisaka Micro Mount 1.7” Height, really solid underrated mount, comes spray painted wolf gray, if you give me a couple days I can clean it - $60 shipped
   
2. Badger Ordnance 30mm Scope Mount COMM, good condition 1.7”, 0MOA, want to include if possible this JArm and Micro Plate and ACRO plate - $375 shipped
   

AR STUFF

1. My Gucciish Competition Upper - Lantac Dragon, 16” BA Hanson Premium 1:8 Twist .223 Wylde, Wojtek Adjustable Gas Block, Aero S-One 15” Handguard Cerakoted a custom “tanodized” color, Ripcord Clear Anodized Upper with a FCD Double Dimp Rose Gold Dust Cover, FCDxHodge Dimpled FA, and some rail panels -$700 OBO
   
2. Reptilia RECCE Stock, FDE, some light install marks that get covered, otherwise great condition, really awesome, ultralight stock, the cooler UBR - $100 shipped
   
3. Daniel Defense Tornado Gray Stock with both stock pads, very great condition - $45 shipped
   
4. Griffin ECS Maritime Stock, Gray, $25 shipped
   
5. Cloud Defensive CORv3 Handguard, 10.7”, Clear Anodized, Long recessed rail segment to allow Laser and Tape switches to be below the window of Lower 1/3 and higher optics and flush with receiver height, will come with all necessary hardware to install but you will need your own armorers wrench tool. Was installed and removed may show minor install and MLOK attachment marks but great overall condition - $150 shipped
   
6. B5 Systems Gray Pistol Grip with screw, I did a homebrew epoxy/grit powder grip and imo it came out pretty nice - $25 shipped
   
7. Railscales Polymer RSB-M in Stealth Gray, like new, $20 shipped SPF
   

LIGHTS

1. Cloud Defensive REIN 3.0 FDE full kit with light, charger, Picatinny mount, and tape switch and an FDE flip up cap, mounted and removed but never shot with - $250 shipped
   
2. Tan Surefire X300U-A with all keys, great condition - $200 shipped
   
3. Modlite PLHv2 Head, Black, minor housing wear but very clear lens, ships with a One Hundred Concepts cover - $160 shipped
   
4. Cloud Defensive/IWC Offset Scout Mount, MLOK, Black, very good condition - $30 shipped
   

NYLON

1. Trex Arms Ready Rig, Wolf Gray, fitted and loaded with mags but almost never larped in ,just been sitting - $75 shipped

SLINGS (First One will Come with a Pair of QD Points Free! Ferro Concepts Brand)

1. LBX MAS Gray 2 Point Sling with an Upgraded Ferro Concepts Adjuster and Sling Silencer - $40 shipped
   
2. ESD Snow Camo Sling - $40 shipped SPF
   
3. Defense Mechanisms Sling, Wolf Gray with Built in Rilfe Elastic mounting - $40 shipped
   

GLOCK STUFF

1. Glock 19 Gen 5 Slide, Jagerwerks F9 Cut/ACRO Footprint/Chamfered Edges/Enhanced Rear Serrations/Carbon End Plate/Nitride/All Internals/OEM Marksman Barrel from Black Phoenix Customs removing the unmatched rollmark and then Nitrided/OEM Iron Sights - $750 shipped
   
2. Zev G17.3 Barrel, Bronze, Dimpled, very low round count with no significant wear - $150 shipped
   
3. Zev Lightened Striker Spring/Red Channel Liner and Zev Extractor (Gen 3 or 4) - $40 shipped
   
4. Agency Arms AOS Plate for Glock, DeltaPoint Pro, Irons Front with Ameriglo 5XL Cowitness Irons installed (Black ReaTritium Front) - $80 shipped
   

OTHER

1. CHPWS 509t Plate for a PDP Gen 1 cut, - $40 shipped
   
2. Pair of Random Docter Optic Plates for Pic Rail from a FastFire 3 and a Vortex Venom box - Free + Shipping Cost if you want them
   

Thank you all for looking and I appreciate you all!