BEFORE ANYTHING : i don't know if this post belong to this subreddit or to another one , i want to apologize if it don't belong here. also my english might not be the best.
i'm new to lost medias but i tried at least a bit to find the most i could on my side. i'm kinda in a dead end and can't find anything else.
i don't know where it's from , tbh i don't know anything about it.
it's a low-resolution drawing of a caracter stylized like a Zelda game , with a mask split in half. the mask is smiling and the other half is a sleeping face. i think it could be from a old blog or forum , but i don't know wich or if it's even that.
i've found this drawing a couple of month ago on pinterest and a couple of days ago i tried to know where it was from. at first i used Google reverse image research , and found that it also was used by at least 2 diffrent artist : one russian guy and a soundcloud rapper called bbyazul. the russian guy use the original version , and bbyazul use a modified version of that image. google otherwise just show caracters from final fantasy and yo-kai watch. the russian guy was asked on the youtube version of his song using this picture if he knew who made that art and answeared that no , he didn't. some other ppl have been looking for this images for a while , seeing the comments on the video made by realgothplug.
i was thinking about using maybe the wayback machine but it's useless if i don't know where and when to look.
Unthinkable by bbyazul on soundcloud : https://soundcloud.com/bbyazul4k/unthinkable?si=2b91d0a23aeb41158ed204c04c0514fb&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social and on youtube : https://youtu.be/1HqHWV6dZhI?si=Oyzzwty7Lv_GPVwp
mighty forest chenachen soundtrack by realgothplug on youtube: https://youtu.be/EHOMaeu14WA?si=U9BFAZ-6-81D0Efy and on soundcloud : https://soundcloud.com/gothgotikagot/mighty-forest-chenachen-soundtrack?si=b822312e04fa49e6a6e0ce52380bdbec&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing
i tried to check the metadata of the picture but there was nothing (as far as i'm aware) that could told me anything expet that it was showing when it was uploaded to your device , and i doubt that pictures on pinterest have any other metadata other than that. i can't even find it on pinterest. and i don't know if pinterest has a reverse research feature.
i tried also to put it in TineEye , bu there was nothing. i hope that i've gived enough context and information , because it's all i have found for now.
here's the picture : https://imgur.com/a/KxUoqlq

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https://www.belfasttelegraph.co.uk/opinion/columnists/malachi-odoherty/gerry-kelly-and-the-chief-constable-must-learn-that-journalism-is-not-a-crime/a213558458.html
Does Gerry Kelly have anything in common with Sir John Profumo? This question flummoxed me when raised by Master Bell, the judge hearing my application last December to have Kelly’s defamation writ against me struck out. “Let us consider the case of the former minister of war,” said the judge, sounding pretty much like a professor conducting a tutorial. Profumo had to resign his government post because he had been discovered to have been visiting a prostitute who also had a Russian diplomat as a client. He might have been jeopardising national security with post-coital pillow talk, and that wouldn’t do. But in later life, Sir John was awarded a CBE for his charitable work. Might it not be, asked Master Bell, that, in a similar way, Gerry Kelly was once a man with no entitlement to a reputation because of his engagement in violence, but that he now is a good man, a distinguished member of the Policing Board, an MLA and someone who has earned the respect of his peers? I paraphrase. I was sitting at the back of the courtroom, listening to all this and thinking: “Oh, drat! [I paraphrase again.] I hadn’t thought of that.” I doubt Kelly’s own legal team had thought of it either, but they took it up and argued that, indeed, Kelly had changed over the years. They appeared to concede something that I doubt Kelly himself would concede: that he was indeed once a bad man who did bad things, but that he was now a reputable person, a peacemaker. The evidence of this was that he had brought the IRA into the peace process and helped make Northern Ireland a better place for all of us. “Hardly a qualification for sainthood,” said the judge. Kelly might have had all sorts of reasons for bringing the IRA into the peace process, including the realisation that his past terrorism was failing. It didn’t mean that he was a better person. Sinn Fein MLA who unsuccessfully sued two journalists to ask PSNI why it is trying to silence journalists Policing Board seeks urgent meeting with PSNI over journalist surveillance Gerry Kelly libel case against Ruth Dudley Edwards struck out in another financial blow to SF MLA In the past week, Kelly has been getting a drubbing on social media because he was to meet Chief Constable Jon Boutcher to protest against police monitoring of the phone calls of journalists. Many were sneering at this paradoxical behaviour of someone who had himself been harassing journalists with unsustainable defamation writs. Who was he to be criticising the police for imposing a much lesser jeopardy on journalists? I agree with this point. But I feel uncomfortable about the story of my experience with Kelly being used to undermine criticism of the PSNI for spying on journalists. That journalism is not a crime is a lesson that has to be learnt as clearly by Gerry Kelly as by the Chief Constable. Still, Kelly has brought this derision on himself. A consequence of the superb and eloquent ruling of Master Bell that Kelly, unlike John Profumo in his later years, has no moral compass will echo down the years. The case was referred to again in a recent article in the Irish Times about Ireland’s demotion in the ranks of countries which allow press freedom. The paper reported that Ireland had dropped from second to eighth place in an annual global index of press freedom published by Reporters Without Borders. Ireland is now regarded as a jurisdiction “where politicians have subjected media outlets to judicial intimidation”. My case was outside that jurisdiction but was included in the story to illustrate how many of these cases similarly arise from within Sinn Fein. This is some achievement for the party that proclaims a concern for human rights. It has tarnished Ireland’s reputation as a healthy democracy. What we are seeing here is a failure by both Sinn Fein and Kelly himself to see themselves as others see them. The feeling about Gerry Kelly when he presumes to lecture the police about the rights of journalists is that he somehow just doesn’t get how paradoxical that is; that he just doesn’t have any sense of irony, either to see it in the conduct of others or to anticipate how others might see it in him. But Kelly isn’t alone in this. He exemplifies the blinkered vision of core republicans and their inability to comprehend how others disdain their past and their cultish, on-message discipline. For them, of course, the ideology is self-evident truth and the IRA campaign was an inevitable, just and even noble response to oppression. Michelle O’Neill says we empathise with Palestinians here because we too suffered as they did. Well, some among us did, but I couldn’t claim, with a straight face, talking to a mother sitting in the rubble of Gaza, that my life has more in common with hers than, say, a London taxi driver has. I do have something in common with the Jew who gets called to account for the actions of the IDF, for I was often patronised in England by people who assumed I was an IRA supporter. In Carál Ní Chuilín’s humility before the UK Covid-19 Inquiry we saw something extraordinary, though — a former IRA militant accepting that she had done wrong in attending the funeral of Bobby Storey, the one Gerry Adams called the crann mór, the big tree. She had insulted us by putting the opportunity to honour Storey above sympathy for those who could not honour their dead. But she gets that. She empathised — and the power of the impact of that was accentuated by the rarity of republicans accepting criticism. Is Ní Chuilín’s way the future and Kelly’s the past? It seems almost too much to hope for.

My last post went over surprisingly well, that said you should check out my new subreddit Talesofzippy for more content, because I'm definitely going to posting in more places around reddit and I'll be cross posting them in the tales sub for more people to enjoy!
With that, I don't remember any good stories about Zippy, but the place I work at is fucking filled with loonies, so tonight I'm going to introduce you to Katniss.
Katniss is about 63, tiny, and absolutely loved to talk about how good her guns are, even if she can't shoot or generally understand how they work. She tried to tell me that her Girsan was a high quality gun because the barrel is pinned in place.
I'm a competitive shooter, I grew up shooting and learning about guns.
When a pistol fires a round, a floating barrel will be pointed at an upward angle at the end of the stroke, while a pinned barrel doesn't. The floating barrel doesn't effect accuracy in any meaningful way because it is held in place by several seers, and doesn't begin to move until well after the bullet is out of the gun.
I tried to explain that, she didn't listen. She also can't shoot. Katniss.
She also wears boomer shirts about "snowflakes" and shares memes about the good old days when you could say whatever you want and be offensive.
This gets funny later.
Katniss and I worked together running gas pumps, and we generally got along great, in fact for a year I considered her to be a friend.
And then my dad killed himself.
I got the call at work and got a ride home as quickly as possible. Katniss was on shift with me and Yawn, who is the most chill person you can imagine.
They were incredible, Katniss broke into my apartment (at my request) and took my shotgun for safe keeping. She also took my keys and made me wait for a family friend to pick me up.
I called the night manager and told him I was going home and why, He offered me a ride.
I came into work three days later and stuck my head into my boss (Elk Daddy's) office. He simply said "how long do you need?"
"Two weeks."
"Okay."
I mention this because Anything less than this is a cancerous work environment. If a manager tries to negotiate with you when you've experienced a true tragedy, they're not a manager, they're a slave driver.
I had severe PTSD, nightmares, the whole shabang, for months I would stand at the desk and hear my mom's voice telling me my dad was dead, the first night back at work I witnessed some dumb janitorial drama (not zippy) and I started smelling the sickly sweet smell of human brain before I ran home and had my first panic attack.
(I'll tell the story of Elk Daddy, and make good on a promise I made my dad as a bonus at the end.)
Six months passed, my PTSD wasn't even beginning to heal, and she pulled me aside.
"Okay. It's time to stop now."
"Stop what?"
"This, you're in a rut, and you need to get out of it. It's high time you moved on and stopped being sad and moved on. See my sister was in a car accident and went into a coma when I was about 20, and I had a dream about her getting up and walking out of her hospital room and saying "it's about fucking time." The next day her heart gave out and she finally died. It was this freeing thing for me, because I felt like she was finally free of the broken body and the pain."
"Katniss I just don't feel like I'm... There yet. I'm still hurting, and I really don't feel like I'm ready to let him go. Things aren't that easy."
She didn't like that answer.
At the time I just felt broken, and just laid there and took it, but today I'm genuinely angry about it.
I was hurt, and now that I've rebuilt myself I realized how truly broken I was as a person.
She had no right to say anything to me about how it was time to stop. I'm still healing four years on.
That was when we stopped being friends.
Last year I was going through stickers for our local pride, the second one our community has ever had! I had come out as bi the year before, and had a side project that had grown large enough to have a booth at the local event. I was showing off some cool and funny stickers to Yawn, another cashier.
Yawn is great, he has no blood pressure, everything is just really cool and chill, and he really just wanted to be friends with everyone.
Genuinely nice person. I always get him a Christmas gift and he's always grateful, no matter what it is.
I turned around and handed a sticker to Katniss that said "be gay, so crime" with a little picture of a fabulous criminal goose on it.
She took one look at it and just went "No" rather forcefully, so I just backed off and moved on.
The next day my boss, Elk Daddy, calls me over.
"Op, you handed Katniss a sticker yesterday, and I just want to tell you. Stop talking to her. Please. For me."
"She really complained about that?"
"No, she threatened to go to HR because you "assumed her orientation" and tried to give her a sticker."
It is at this point that I'd like to add that Elk Daddy is gay. Like... Really gay. Him and his husband both donate their time and money to pride, and have been instrumental in making it happen. They are the gay uncles that stepped up to be dads for their nephews when Elk Daddy's brother couldn't.
He knows Katniss, and both of us know her HUSBAND.
So. We didn't talk outside of necessary conversations, and haven't really said anything to each other for any reason.... Until I transferred to my current department and ran out of pens.
I walked over to the cashier desk "hey Katniss, can I get a handful of pens? I ran out."
"I gave three to morning shift last night, what happened to those?"
"I don't know, and it doesn't matter, can I get some?"
Yawn walked over to the drawer where we keep the pens and opened it, while Katniss sighs and opens up her drawer and drops a pen on the counter.
"Come on Katniss, I need more than that."
"I don't have that many pens, they're not giving them to us, here, this is all I have."
She angrily throws down two more pins on the counter as Yawn retrieves an entire box of pens from the drawer and begins walking over. She sees him and motions for him to stop."
"Don't fucking bullshit me Katniss, I see Yawn with the box. Just give me some pens."
She drops six more down on the counter, I take them and walk off. "Thank you."
Ten minutes later she comes over to the deli and slams a box of pens down on the counter for me
"Don't ask me for pens again."
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
She then told the MOD that I cussed her out. I told my side, and several people in the management chain pointed out that she wore tee shirts under her uniform that said more offensive things, one of them even saying "don't fucking bullshit me."
She is no longer allowed to wear her tee shirts.
She's also had it pointed out to her that she says "don't fucking bullshit me" all the time, and management has gently reminded her that she should not swear.
A few weeks ago she very dejectedly told me that she was done trying to help people, and I had to bite back a "good, we don't need it."
And here we are... End of another post about the weird boomers I work with.
BONUS STORIES!
As for Elk Daddy.
My boss has only ever taken his husband out hunting one time. When they did, they ended up trekking across the country on deer trails and through the brush. After 12 hours of being dragged through the brush and not shooting anything, his husband said something to the effect of "I hate this. I can't keep up with you and you just disappear all the goddamn time." He took my boss's phone, logged in, and yells "in fact HEY SIRI, FROM NOW ON CALL ME ELK DADDY."
nickname earned. He has it monogramed on his wallet.
And finally, my dad, who was another Boomer, used to love taking me out camping.
He was an electrical engineer, and was most certainly on the spectrum. He was brilliant in his own way, but absolutely unhinged when it came to teaching things.
A lecture from my dad could cover cleaning the stove (with diagrams on proper wiping techniques) to the finer points of building and firing a nuclear weapon. (With math included. No mercy.)
He tried to teach me calculus when I was six. It didn't work.
Anyway, on this particular camping trip he pulled me aside and said "op, I want you to make me a fire using nothing but two sticks, your knife, a match and the chainsaw"
Now. I knew where he was coming from, he wanted me to make a fuzz stick. I knew because he had only brought up the topic of making a fuzz stick every night for the past three days of camping. He then very helpfully added "and the chainsaw is a distraction."
Uh huh. Okay dad.
I Start cutting up the wood and making a teepee fire, and I hear a little "hmph" I look up and I see the smile. The grin he used to get as he started planning one of his little lectures. He was picking out the right words, deciding if he needed to demonstrate or just use a pen and paper.
I then opened up the gas tank on the chainsaw, dumped in a tablespoon of gas, lit the match and "whoof"
Fire.
Then the argument began.
"I said you couldn't use gas!"
"You said I could use the chainsaw, that includes the gas tank!"
"The chainsaw was a distraction!"
"Still gave it to me!"
"You cheated!!!"
"How?"
Long pause.
"I won, admit it. I beat you in a way you didn't expect. You will never live this down. I'll tell this story at your funeral!"
And I did. Three years later I tore up my hastily scribbled notes and told a group of the friends, neighbors and coworkers that he knew and loved about the time I finally beat him. We laughed.
I think he'd be proud, and a little indignant.
I miss you dad.

My last post went over surprisingly well, that said you should check out my new subreddit Talesofzippy for more content, because I'm definitely going to posting in more places around reddit and I'll be cross posting them in the tales sub for more people to enjoy!
With that, I don't remember any good stories about Zippy, but the place I work at is fucking filled with loonies, so tonight I'm going to introduce you to Katniss.
Katniss is about 63, tiny, and absolutely loved to talk about how good her guns are, even if she can't shoot or generally understand how they work. She tried to tell me that her Girsan was a high quality gun because the barrel is pinned in place.
I'm a competitive shooter, I grew up shooting and learning about guns.
When a pistol fires a round, a floating barrel will be pointed at an upward angle at the end of the stroke, while a pinned barrel doesn't. The floating barrel doesn't effect accuracy in any meaningful way because it is held in place by several seers, and doesn't begin to move until well after the bullet is out of the gun.
I tried to explain that, she didn't listen. She also can't shoot. Katniss.
She also wears boomer shirts about "snowflakes" and shares memes about the good old days when you could say whatever you want and be offensive.
This gets funny later.
Katniss and I worked together running gas pumps, and we generally got along great, in fact for a year I considered her to be a friend.
And then my dad killed himself.
I got the call at work and got a ride home as quickly as possible. Katniss was on shift with me and Yawn, who is the most chill person you can imagine.
They were incredible, Katniss broke into my apartment (at my request) and took my shotgun for safe keeping. She also took my keys and made me wait for a family friend to pick me up.
I called the night manager and told him I was going home and why, He offered me a ride.
I came into work three days later and stuck my head into my boss (Elk Daddy's) office. He simply said "how long do you need?"
"Two weeks."
"Okay."
I mention this because Anything less than this is a cancerous work environment. If a manager tries to negotiate with you when you've experienced a true tragedy, they're not a manager, they're a slave driver.
I had severe PTSD, nightmares, the whole shabang, for months I would stand at the desk and hear my mom's voice telling me my dad was dead, the first night back at work I witnessed some dumb janitorial drama (not zippy) and I started smelling the sickly sweet smell of human brain before I ran home and had my first panic attack.
(I'll tell the story of Elk Daddy, and make good on a promise I made my dad as a bonus at the end.)
Six months passed, my PTSD wasn't even beginning to heal, and she pulled me aside.
"Okay. It's time to stop now."
"Stop what?"
"This, you're in a rut, and you need to get out of it. It's high time you moved on and stopped being sad and moved on. See my sister was in a car accident and went into a coma when I was about 20, and I had a dream about her getting up and walking out of her hospital room and saying "it's about fucking time." The next day her heart gave out and she finally died. It was this freeing thing for me, because I felt like she was finally free of the broken body and the pain."
"Katniss I just don't feel like I'm... There yet. I'm still hurting, and I really don't feel like I'm ready to let him go. Things aren't that easy."
She didn't like that answer.
At the time I just felt broken, and just laid there and took it, but today I'm genuinely angry about it.
I was hurt, and now that I've rebuilt myself I realized how truly broken I was as a person.
She had no right to say anything to me about how it was time to stop. I'm still healing four years on.
That was when we stopped being friends.
Last year I was going through stickers for our local pride, the second one our community has ever had! I had come out as bi the year before, and had a side project that had grown large enough to have a booth at the local event. I was showing off some cool and funny stickers to Yawn, another cashier.
Yawn is great, he has no blood pressure, everything is just really cool and chill, and he really just wanted to be friends with everyone.
Genuinely nice person. I always get him a Christmas gift and he's always grateful, no matter what it is.
I turned around and handed a sticker to Katniss that said "be gay, do crime" with a little picture of a fabulous criminal goose on it.
She took one look at it and just went "No" rather forcefully, so I just backed off and moved on.
The next day my boss, Elk Daddy, calls me over.
"Op, you handed Katniss a sticker yesterday, and I just want to tell you. Stop talking to her. Please. For me."
"She really complained about that?"
"No, she threatened to go to HR because you "assumed her orientation" and tried to give her a sticker."
It is at this point that I'd like to add that Elk Daddy is gay. Like... Really gay. Him and his husband both donate their time and money to pride, and have been instrumental in making it happen. They are the gay uncles that stepped up to be dads for their nephews when Elk Daddy's brother couldn't.
He knows Katniss, and both of us know her HUSBAND.
So. We didn't talk outside of necessary conversations, and haven't really said anything to each other for any reason.... Until I transferred to my current department and ran out of pens.
I walked over to the cashier desk "hey Katniss, can I get a handful of pens? I ran out."
"I gave three to morning shift last night, what happened to those?"
"I don't know, and it doesn't matter, can I get some?"
Yawn walked over to the drawer where we keep the pens and opened it, while Katniss sighs and opens up her drawer and drops a pen on the counter.
"Come on Katniss, I need more than that."
"I don't have that many pens, they're not giving them to us, here, this is all I have."
She angrily throws down two more pins on the counter as Yawn retrieves an entire box of pens from the drawer and begins walking over. She sees him and motions for him to stop."
"Don't fucking bullshit me Katniss, I see Yawn with the box. Just give me some pens."
She drops six more down on the counter, I take them and walk off. "Thank you."
Ten minutes later she comes over to the deli and slams a box of pens down on the counter for me
"Don't ask me for pens again."
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
She then told the MOD that I cussed her out. I told my side, and several people in the management chain pointed out that she wore tee shirts under her uniform that said more offensive things, one of them even saying "don't fucking bullshit me."
She is no longer allowed to wear her tee shirts.
She's also had it pointed out to her that she says "don't fucking bullshit me" all the time, and management has gently reminded her that she should not swear.
A few weeks ago she very dejectedly told me that she was done trying to help people, and I had to bite back a "good, we don't need it."
And here we are... End of another post about the weird boomers I work with.
BONUS STORIES!
As for Elk Daddy.
My boss has only ever taken his husband out hunting one time. When they did, they ended up trekking across the country on deer trails and through the brush. After 12 hours of being dragged through the brush and not shooting anything, his husband said something to the effect of "I hate this. I can't keep up with you and you just disappear all the goddamn time." He took my boss's phone, logged in, and yells "in fact HEY SIRI, FROM NOW ON CALL ME ELK DADDY."
nickname earned. He has it monogramed on his wallet.
And finally, my dad, who was another Boomer, used to love taking me out camping.
He was an electrical engineer, and was most certainly on the spectrum. He was brilliant in his own way, but absolutely unhinged when it came to teaching things.
A lecture from my dad could cover cleaning the stove (with diagrams on proper wiping techniques) to the finer points of building and firing a nuclear weapon. (With math included. No mercy.)
He tried to teach me calculus when I was six. It didn't work.
Anyway, on this particular camping trip he pulled me aside and said "op, I want you to make me a fire using nothing but two sticks, your knife, a match and the chainsaw"
Now. I knew where he was coming from, he wanted me to make a fuzz stick. I knew because he had only brought up the topic of making a fuzz stick every night for the past three days of camping. He then very helpfully added "and the chainsaw is a distraction."
Uh huh. Okay dad.
I Start cutting up the wood and making a teepee fire, and I hear a little "hmph" I look up and I see the smile. The grin he used to get as he started planning one of his little lectures. He was picking out the right words, deciding if he needed to demonstrate or just use a pen and paper.
I then opened up the gas tank on the chainsaw, dumped in a tablespoon of gas, lit the match and "whoof"
Fire.
Then the argument began.
"I said you couldn't use gas!"
"You said I could use the chainsaw, that includes the gas tank!"
"The chainsaw was a distraction!"
"Still gave it to me!"
"You cheated!!!"
"How?"
Long pause.
"I won, admit it. I beat you in a way you didn't expect. You will never live this down. I'll tell this story at your funeral!"
And I did. Three years later I tore up my hastily scribbled notes and told a group of the friends, neighbors and coworkers that he knew and loved about the time I finally beat him. We laughed.
I think he'd be proud, and a little indignant.
I miss you dad.

Okay so I just got back from seeing this!!! Ohmygod. Ohmygod! Okay spoiler warning because I just need to talk about all my feelings!!!! SPOILERS COMING!!
IT WAS AMAZING!
I loved every moment. Kinda shocked people felt it was a bit to slow but I'm just so enthralled by the apes I'm never bored. Like could it have been even longer??
FIRST I need to cry about the Mae betrayal!!! THAT HURT! I'm still not okay. You know something's wrong. You know she's taking advantage of how clueless Noa and his friends are when they enter that vault. You know whatever she's after, it's not good for apes, everything in that vault screams bad for the apes. But I still didn't expect for her to do what she did, betraying Noa and his friends and leaving them to die. After Noa and his friends helped her, and Raka died trying to save her
The way that whole scene plays out, the utter terror as Noa and his apes are all just fighting to survive and stay alive, it was insane. And THE GORILLA!!! Nothing has scared me yet in this franchise like him. Every time he showed up you were just terrified. When he was charging Noa at the end - I was just replaying The Last of Us and it felt like a bloater charging you, that's the feeling I got because he's so strong and just charging and roaring and you know he's to powerful.
When Proximus says, "What have you done" I actually got chills. Proximus is terrible, enslaving clans and killing other apes, but in that moment you felt horrified realizing he was right about needing to get into that vault first. He knew how apes were once kept in cages and he knew you could not trust a human. And Noa trusted a human, and suddenly they were all at risk of death.
I'm still in shock over what Mae did, and yet I realize from her point of view, Raka and Noa and his friends were the only good apes she'd ever met, but she couldn't let that get in the way of her mission. It goes back to the Colonel "what would you have done?" and Dreyfus "I'm saving the human race" Mae has to do the hard thing, to in her mind, save humanity.
I'm so curious on what comes next for Mae. When she was holding that gun behind her back, I felt like she was both considering shooting Noa or preparing to defend herself if he reacted badly. But his mention of Raka, and gifting her his necklace with Caesar's symbol and pondering if humans and apes could ever live together, she reacted in a way that suggests her actions caused her pain. I'm so curious what Mae's journey will be. Will she continue to be ruthless for the sake of humanity, or will she give consideration to the idea of apes and humans living together? She felt like quite a mystery, holding onto so many secrets.
And also OMG - so many humans survived underground!! What does this mean for apes??? What did Mae take from the vault? It feels like the apes have another big threat coming! After War, I didn't think humans would be a threat again and yet, 300 years later it looks like they're trying to find a way to reclaim their place, but how can they? So many questions for what is next!
More things I need to talk about - gosh I got teary eyed at Caesar's funeral. Wasn't expecting to see him one last time, or any of his apes from his time. So seeing that funeral got me, and then Noa finding his father dead got me teary, and then him reuniting with his friend and his mom got me too. The movie was so emotional and intense. I enjoyed watching Noa leave on his own to find his clan, and meeting Raka and learning about Caesar. I really liked the quiet moments too. I get so lost in watching the expressions of the apes, their movements, how they react to their world.
Loved all the characters. I want more!!! Waiting is gonna be so hard again, but we're all in it together!!

I’m not going to preface this with “my husband is so great, blah blah.” Sure my husband has some good qualities but right now those are not outweighing the negatives.
I’m not going to divorce my husband. I’m just venting.
Now…
I work full time an hour away from our house. On days when the schedule requires it, I can make that trip twice (to drive home and help get a kid from school or practice or wherever). I still wake up early enough to run dogs/make my breakfast and lunch. I come home and instantly take over the kids/household chores. Most days I am dead tired by the time I crawl in bed at 10/11pm.
My husband use to be the main provider and I use to be a stay at home mom. So I know how hard it is to be home all day with the kids and I try to be as helpful as I can be to allow for breaks/keeping up with my slack so not to add extra to the workload.
My husband works part time and is taking one college course. Ladiesss when I tell you he acts like he cannot do the most basic of things I MEAN IT. Today, after driving an additional hour to pick up the kids from my moms (two hours round trip) I come home to not a single thing done that I asked. Not a dish washed, laundry dumped on the bed, the juicer was actually dirty (I clean it every morning after use) and the floors not mopped or swept. He didn’t have to go to work until 2:30pm. He knew I had to get the kids tonight. Yet still, he didn’t think of how to help me in the least bit. I fucking went off on him (in text). He’s behavior as of late has been lazy and selfish. I acknowledge he has insomnia and brain frog but if he refuses to actually work on finding a resolution for these things my sympathy only stretches so far….
My husband has already told me in earlier conversations that “he just doesn’t know what is wrong with him. I (he) just don’t give a fuck about anything anymore.”
I encourage therapy, seeing a doctor, getting a new hobby, what ever he needs to recenter himself, but he doesn’t even try to do any of the above. I have no idea how much more I can take of this. It’s been a sold 6-9 months of those kind of behavior where he tries to do better but then slides back into complacency. I feel so burnt out most days, I don’t know how you other mamas do it 😭 any way I am waiting for him to get home from work, an hour after he was suppose to be home. I don’t even have the energy to fight with him tonight.
Thank you for reading my vent.

I am NOT OOP. OOP is u/justathrowaway282641
Originally posted to TwoHotTakes + her own page
Previous BoRU #1, BoRU #2, BoRU #3, BoRU #4, BoRU #5, BoRU 6
Editor’s Note: removed all relevant comments from older posts to make space for new updates. To see all older relevant comments, check out the previous BoRUs above
NEW UPDATE MARKED WITH ----
[New Update]: My family forgot to invite me to my grandparents funeral, but they are convinced I was there.
Trigger Warnings: death of loved ones, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, harassment
RECAP
Original Post: November 14, 2023**
I’m 30s F and caused a major blowup in my family and now none of them are talking to me. For background, my hometown is tiny (500pop) and when I went 2 hrs away to “the city” (15,000pop) for college, I loved it. I ended up staying after graduation, got married, and am happy here for a decade. I visit my home town every few weeks or so, call/text my family near daily, and thought we were all good. My family’s pretty small. Just my brother, mom, step dad, dad, step mom, and an aunt and uncle (mom’s siblings, never married, no kids). My mother's grandparents moved to my home town when I was in high school and were just down the street from us. My family has always been pretty drama free (aside from my parent’s divorce when I was a kid) and we’ve been happy. The step-parents were blended in perfectly and we share holidays and celebrations together. We’re all super close and just the perfect little group.
Ever since I moved away, the topic of “when am I moving back?” is constant, and I’ve always laughed it off. My home town has nothing. You have to drive 30 minutes for milk and bread. 60-90 minute one-way commutes to work. And floods shut down the main road every Easter. I love the town, but I love here more. I have parks, stores, community events, a library! The “city” is great. My family grumbles that I need to move back, but I refuse. I've been trying to encourage them to come here, especially since it's not an hour drive to the nearest medical facility.
Now to the meat and potatoes: both my grandparents passed over COVID times. They were both old and their health had been failing for a while so it was only a matter of time. Thankfully they didn’t catch it, but it made visiting them impossible and we survived mostly through FaceTime. They both passed in their sleep months apart. Both were cremated and kept securely under the kitchen sink for safe keeping while the pandemic blew over. That was 2021.
Well, I just found out my family held a funeral for them and scattered the ashes in my uncle’s maple grove over the summer. No one said a word to me about it. I’ve visited numerous times before and after and not one word. I only found out because my great uncle from California posted on Facebook a few weeks ago that he is entering hospice and was so thankful his health stayed strong enough for him to see his little sister (my grandma) to her final resting place. I was confused and called my mom. She was all “Yeah, the funeral we had in July, remember?” Ya’ll, I visited them for the 4th of July. They did the funeral the 8th. Not a word about it to me. They had planned this for months. Long enough to arrange for my infirm great uncle to be brought over from the other side of the country. Apparently, they talked about it “all the time”.
Everyone is convinced I was at the funeral. They SWEAR I was there. I can prove I wasn’t because Google’s got my location history. My hubby is baffled because he was supposedly there, too, but he had to work every weekend in June and July. Time clock doesn’t lie. My family straight up forgot about me. I’m hurt. I’m sad. And they’re pissed at me “for lying”. They think I’m causing drama over nothing. Nothing I say can convince them I wasn’t there. My family is united in this. And they’ve all put me “on read” until I admit I’m wrong. They think I’ve gone nuts. Either there’s a doppelganger of me attending events, or my family doesn’t want to admit they screwed up. I’m not backing down.
Thanksgiving is coming up, and my family’s been vague posting on Facebook about “forgetful kids” and mental health. It’s so freaking weird and I don’t know if I’m in bizzaro world or what’s going on. My mom’s best friend reached out and said I should just admit I was wrong and apologize, that I’m causing my mom so much unnecessary stress. I asked her if she’s checked everyone’s home for CO2. She hung up on me. (We checked our CO2, and our testers are running just fine.) I have reached out to a few people in my home town to check in on my folks, and they all say they're fine. I even spoke with the local volunteer fire fighter group to see if they could check for gas leaks. Not sure if they were able to.
I don’t know what to do. I’ve shown them the proof I wasn’t there, but they know I’m tech savvy and just assume I’ve Photoshopped it. Hubby says we need a break, and we’re going to be staying home this holiday season.
Edit: I don't know the update rules, so I'll post updates to my profile should anyone want them.  
Update #1: November 27, 2023
Not sure how to do updates on posts, so figured I'd post anything on my profile. Folks have private messaged me and this will be easier I think?
It's 11/27 and Thanksgiving just happened. Hubby and I stayed home. We got a small turkey and made our own little thanksgiving. It was nice. We ate around noon, then watched a movie, and later sat outside with a bottle of wine to watch the sun set behind the trees and neighbor houses.
We usually take the day before off, drive to my folks, stay the night, and help with the Thanksgiving Day cooking. So it wasn't until Wednesday night that my mom broke the silence. Mom called and asked when I was showing up, and I told her we were staying home this year, but for them to have a happy Thanksgiving, and to give the rest of the family my love. She was quiet for a long time after I said that, and I think she eventually mumbled an "okay", or something, and hung up. It wasn't an angry hang up. Just a hang up. On Thanksgiving day, I sent a group "Happy Thanksgiving!" gif to our family group chat. I received a few "happy Thanksgiving"'s back. No one's said anything else. There's been no posts on Facebook.  
Update #2: December 12, 2023
So, I think I mentioned in one of my comments that my dad and I usually talk on the phone every Sunday morning. We're both early risers so we'd chat over our morning coffees and watch the sunrise. Him and I haven't really spoken since this all went down and it's been tough. I'm used to talking to him, you know?
Well, I was sitting outside in my usual spot, watching the sun rise and freezing my butt off, and he called me. I'm not entirely sure how to describe the emotions I felt. It was a mix of panic, hope, terror, happiness, and dread. I ended up answering because I just had to know what he wanted. It was an awkward conversation. He didn't address the current "drama", but instead tiptoed around the situation with all the grace of an cow on stilts. For instance, a simple "How are you doing?" Type question was answered with a "Not good." And the whole conversation would stall out for a bit because he knew why I wasn't doing well. So we ended up talking about the weather, the various winter birds we'd seen in our feeders, and the Christmas decorations around town. Things like that.
Eventually he asked if we were coming out for Christmas, and sounded sad when I told him we weren't. He asked if him and step mom could come visit us instead, and I told him it wasn't a good idea this year. That hubby and I were going to spend a quiet holiday together. I let him know he should be receiving some gifts at his PO Box any day now, so to please pick them up from the post office and put them under the family tree for everyone. He said he'd ship ours to us as well.
And that was pretty much it. No crazy drama to report. The only posts on Facebook have been the usual Christmas excitement ones, countdowns, photos of Santa, silly gift ideas, photos of company Christmas parties.
On a personal note: Hubby and I are doing alright. Our health is good, our spirits high, and we're as solid as ever. We each got Christmas bonus' at our jobs, so we're excited about that. They're not large, but we're happy to have them. We have also done advent calendars for the first time ever. I got him a Lego one, and he got me a hot chocolate one. We're going to do the calendars again next year. Maybe make a tradition out of it.
Everyone please have a safe and happy holidays.  
Inheritance: December 16, 2023
I've received a lot - A LOT - of messages and private DMs urging me to check into inheritance and such. I'm really touched a lot of Internet strangers are worried about me and I wanted to ensure everyone that inheritance is most likely not an issue here. I'd almost be relieved if it was, because then it would at least make some sense. Money does weird things to people, you know?
No one in my family is wealthy by any means. After my grandparents' passed, their small estate was used to pay for their end of life expenses and remaining assets split up. Everyone directly related got an equal split (so excluded my dad and the step parents). I don't remember the exact amount I received, but it was around $5k if I recall. My brother gave me his share, too, so I could finish paying off my college debt while the interest freeze was active.
The great uncle from California has kids and grand kids, and great grandkids of his own, and also isn't wealthy. I think one of his kids makes good money doing something in finance, but I'm not entirely sure. I can't imagine he left us anything, as we hardly knew him. My mom, aunt, and uncle only met him a few times in their lives, and my brother and I even less. Grandma and him were close, but I don't think he liked my grandpa much.  
Christmas: December 25, 2023
I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas. I've received a lot of support through my posts and I'm really grateful. Writing these updates have had a therapeutic effect.
Yesterday was Sunday, but I didn't answer my dad when he called. I just really didn't feel up to a pointless chat, so let it go to voicemail. He tried to reach me a few times throughout the day, but I didn't answer.
Our bestie last minute invited us over to his house for Christmas day lunch (today), so husband and I were busy all Christmas Eve making cookies, peanut brittle, and homemade suckers/hard candies for his kids. Mom tried to reach out as well, but I also ignored her calls.
We had a BLAST at lunch! Our friend's kids are a lot of fun to be around. They got some techy presents from their grandparents (Quest vr headset and steam decks, lucky little rascals) Friend and his wife aren't good with tech, while hubby and I are, so we helped get them set up while our friend played a good host to his folks and inlaws. The grandparents didn't realize that a Steam deck required a Steam account, so we got the kids all their own accounts set up, added them to our steam friends lists, and gifted them some games. We also bought them a few VR games for their headset, and they were off to the races with Beat Saber in no time.
As for my folks: My brother texted and asked if we could talk sometime tomorrow. I think me ignoring mom and dad has caused some kind of upset. Which they deserve.  
Brother’s call: December 26, 2023
Spoke with my brother over the phone this morning.
For starters, he apologized for everything. Him and I are good (for now). For a bit of background, my brother and I are only 2 years apart. There weren't a lot of kids around growing up, so the two of us were often stuck doing stuff together. So we have a lot of shared interests and passions. He's been pretty silent on this whole matter, but still "part of the group", if you know what I mean. I think the thought of losing him out of my life was probably the most painful, because he's always been there. He was my rock until I met my husband. He's definitely a Mama's boy, though, so anything mom wanted, he made sure she got. I'm happy to have him back.
Without further ado, here's the story from the horse's mouth:
Mom apparently had a cancer scare late last year (which no one told me about, go figure), and dad had a stint put in his heart back in January (which I did know about). This "sense of mortality" has apparently lit a fire under Mom's ass to get me back home. But since I wasn't reacting to her passive aggressive hinting, she and step mom decided to go full crazy. My great uncle's health was bad, and he'd been asking about funeral arrangements for his sister (my grandma) for a while, so the moms decided to plan it. And use the event as a giant middle finger to me. They kept all the planning pretty hush-hush between the two of them, so no one on our side of the family actually knew about the funeral until like 2 weeks before. The moms said they'd invited hubby and I. No one thought anything about it. No one thought to mention, confirm, or check with me.
The plan was to scatter the ashes, say a few words, and maybe head to town for lunch. It was a small affair. The mom's didn't even tell the family that our great uncle was coming for it. Like I said, it was a small thing. Barely a footnote. No one thought it was odd because we're pretty chill people.
4th of July happens. Hubby and I are out. No one thought to mention it, as we were all busy celebrating and having a great time. Any time the topic of "this weekend" would start, the conversation would be quickly shifted by one of the moms. We went back home.
8th of July happens. Great uncle rolls into town with a few of his kids, grandkids, and great grandkids, and it's a surprise to everyone (but the moms). Everyone drives to the maple grove and the moms have brought a ton of food and stuff. It's a full blown party. No one on my side noticed I wasn't there, because there were so many extra faces outside the usual group. They did the spreading of the ashes, they said their words, they ate, they had a great time. It wasn't until our great uncle left, and all his side left with him, that they realized I wasn't there. And hadn't been there.
And this is where the crazy went up a notch. My brother says the moms were happy no one noticed I wasn't there. And that this was proof to everyone that I needed to move back because I was so easily forgotten about. Because none of them thought to reach out, right? They basically did a ton of guilt tripping manipulation bullshit and it made everyone upset at me for not showing up. Somehow it was my fault for being excluded. So suddenly everyone was on their side with "sticking it to me".
But then a few months went by, and tempers cooled, and then I guess the horror of it set in. Followed by the shame, but by then they were "in too deep". How do you undo something like this? And since I hadn't brought it up, I guess they figured they would all just stay quiet about it and hope I never asked about a funeral.
That's when I discovered the situation from my great uncle's Facebook and called my mom, who panicked and went with the stupidest solution. Claiming I was there. Don't I remember?
I ended up talking with a few friends from high school, mentioning the situation, and word got back to those in town. So suddenly town gossip and little old church ladies got involved. Was I, or wasn't I at the funeral? Did my family forget to invite me to the funeral of the only grandparents I'd ever know? Or am I just causing a ruckus? My brother said they all just went with mom's answer. Of course they wouldn't forget me. Of course I was there. Of course they're good people. And it just snowballed.
The family expected me to eventually fold. I'm usually a nonconfrontational person, so me sticking to my guns was unexpected. And then I missed Thanksgiving. And now Christmas. With no sign of backing down. And I guess the realization that I could just stop being part of their lives is setting in and my parents are panicking. He's tried just getting them to apologize and explain, but stubbornness prevails. They want to rug sweep, but I'm not letting them.
My brother is upset with everything that's happened. He's realized just how crappy it all has been and he wants nothing to do with it anymore. But since he lives with my mom, he can't "get away from it".
He has asked if he can come stay with us for a little bit. I spoke with hubby, and he's in agreement with me that my brother can come crash in our spare bedroom for as long as he wants. Brother works remotely, so it's no trouble for him to pick up and go. I believe he's making the trip today or tomorrow. Not entirely sure, but I expect crap to hit the fan when he arrives.
On a side note, hubby's stoked that my brother and I made up. The two usually game together, but haven't due to "the situation". He's downstairs right now setting up his man cave in preparation for my brother's arrival. I'm happy to see him so excited.  
Brother's Here: December 27, 2023
My brother rolled in late last night. He'd obviously been crying and when I opened the door, he just held me and sobbed. I'd never seen him like that before and soon both of us were just standing in the doorway crying into one another. He kept apologizing. Over and over again. Said he wasn't sure why he went with it. Just kept saying sorry. Hubby got him all set up in the spare bedroom while brother and I talked. My brother's a wreck. He's always been a big guy, but he's lost a lot of weight and his clothes just hang off him. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was on drugs. We talked for a little bit before bed and he re-explained everything for my husband. I'd told hubby the story, but it was just so weird that hearing it again helped.
This morning my brother was up at dawn making some coffee and getting his work day going. Hubby's off all week (lucky) so hubby made us working folk some pancakes and bacon. So far everything's peaceful. We've decided not to answer any calls from our family. They've been made aware that he arrived safely, and that we are going to spend the New Years together, and that we're not answering any calls until January 1st. They may text if they wish. I'm sure they're losing their minds. Serves them right.
Everyone, have a safe and happy new years! Don't drink and drive!  
Happy 2024!: January 2, 2024
I hope everyone has a safe and enjoyable holidays, and may the new year be full of joy and happiness!
Not too much of an update. Things here have been quiet. My brother's settled in nicely and he's a great housemate. Our place isn't very big, but we have full basement and a nice outside patio/porch area so it doesn't feel crowded at all with the extra addition. He's a quiet and clean guy. No hassle at all. He got some fresh clothes from the Walmart, a haircut, and trimmed his beard, so he's more "presentable" now. He's a lady killer when he gets cleaned up. He's made nice with the (very nosy, but kind) retired couple next door and is adapting to "city living" nicely.
Folks back home have been mostly well behaved. There's been a few texts back and forth, as we're not answering calls. Mom mainly wants to know when brother's coming back, but he's keen on staying here for a while. Mom said I can't "keep him" and I told her he's a grown ass man and can do what he wants. Brother says he has her blocked after she ORDERED him to return home.
Brother has tentatively asked if he could stay long term, should he decide to, or at least longer than a usual visitor would stay. Which we're fine with. He has a good paying job and could afford an apartment, but he's never lived on his own and I would guess he has some anxiety about it. Should that be the case, he'll start paying us some rent and we'd probably adjust to give him the basement as his own space.  
Had to change the locks: January 17, 2024
My brother is officially staying with us for the long haul. Hubby and him spent all Sunday organizing the basement and shifting things around so he now has his own area to be comfortable in. He's pretty handy and has also started fixing little things around our house. Our windows and doors have never closed and locked/unlocked smoother. He even fixed one of the closets we never use because we can never get the darn door open. Sadly, he also had to change the locks on our house and get us all new keys.
This is because while hubby and I were out this Saturday, the moms showed up. They'd been calling and texting us all week, but we weren't really answering them, so I guess the two decided to drive over and hash it out in person. They have emergency keys to my place, and just let themselves in. Brother told them to leave, they argued, and my nosy (but kind) neighbors called the police when they noticed the commotion. So, we get a call from neighbor's wife, return home to some cops in our yard, all the neighbors out "vacuuming their trees", and my nosy (but kind) neighbors standing on my porch with my brother behind them, doing their best Gandalf "You shall not pass" impression.
Had to talk with the cops, explain that we were having a family dispute and word vomited. I don't really remember what all I said, and was shaking a lot. Our local cops are really great. Fantastic guys and gals in blue, and took it all in stride. It's really cold here, so one had me join him in his cruiser with the heat on, and gave me a bottle of water to calm down while we talked. They asked if we wanted the moms trespassed but I wasn't sure if that counted as a criminal charge so just asked the cops if they could just make them leave, which the cops did with no fuss. I think the moms were shocked we were taking this so seriously. They didn't fight or scream at us. Just left quietly.
My dad promised me he'd make sure his wife left us alone. "Or else". He said he'd also have a stern talk with my mom. Him and I talked Sunday morning, and he seemed absolutely at the end of his rope. Husband jokingly told my dad he could move in, too. To which he declined.
Not sure where to go from here, but we're getting some ring cameras installed once they arrive. And everyone but my dad is blocked. Hopefully they all just leave us alone.  
Nothing New To Report: February 2, 2024
Had a lot of DMs for updates, but don't have much anything to report on. The moms are behaving themselves. All's quiet on the western front. Felt weird ignoring or copy/pasting "no updates" to everyone, so here's what we've been doing, should anyone care.
Dad got a new bird/squirrel feeder from Amazon (looks like a little picnic table for a child's dolly but has a mesh top for the bird seed. I think it's supposed to be for chickens?) It's totes adorbs. To his horror, it also works as a Cooper hawk feeder, so now he's "fortifying his defenses" and putting up some trellises around it. He'll have to wait till warmer weather before planting anything to grow on them.
We had some ring cameras installed and put in a motion-activated camera that double functions as a light bulb. It goes in the light fixture outside the front door and is pretty cool. Video quality isn't all that great, but it's a nice addition I guess. It does overlook the bird feeders, so I've been watching it on my lunch breaks on the days I have to go into the office.
Hubby and brother are feuding. They started a coop farm in Stardew Valley a few days ago and they both want to romance Leah. My husband confided in me that he's also been romancing Sebastian as a backup. I'm not sure why he's keeping this a secret, but he's pretty smug about it.
RELEVANT COMMENTS
fractal_frog I hope your dad can outsmart the hawks!

OOP: He'll be able to, I just know it. He's used to dealing with the wildlife and having hawks about, but he just wasn't expecting one to snag a meal right from his new feeder.
I told him it was "technically" still a bird feeder. Just....for bigger birds. Which he thought was funny. He said he might make a little "no hawks allowed" sign to put up next to it.

MissOP: keep the updates coming. the moms are so close to folding it's just a little bit more. LMAO also, the bro mance between your husband and brother is so cute. lol Honestly, I think your husband making sure he has a side piece of Sebastian is absolutely the play.

OOP: So far still no word from the moms, but I hope you're right. I would love an apology and for us to begin moving past this. But I NEED that apology. I feel selfish saying that, but I refuse to "be the bigger person" on this. I just won't.
As for my brother and husband, yeah, they're basically soul mates. The two hit it off immediately when they first met, and they've been thick as thieves for years.  

Update: February 27, 2024
My dad came out for a visit over the weekend. We had a good time and the weather was lovely for some grilling and beers. It was really nice to see him again and he seemed healthy and in good spirits.
Here's his report from back home: Step mom (dad's wife) has started to realize she's screwed up. I credit her change of mindset to the fact that my dad sat her down and laid it out for her: she leaves his kids alone, or she's getting divorce papers. That apparently shut her up right quick, because they had a prenup done when they married and I'm not sure the details of it, but it wouldn't end favorably for her. She hasn't worked in years, so I imagine she'd be eligible for alimony? But I'm not versed in any of that legal mumbojumbo. Dad didn't seem too worried about it, so I'm not gonna worry about it.
Step dad was pissed the police were involved in the last "mom visit" (despite no one getting arrested or anything) and was in a "the kids are out of control and need to be reigned back in" mindset. When my dad pointed out that "the kids" in question were all in their mid-30s, it took some of the steam out of stepdad's sails. According to my dad, even my mom looked a little surprised when he said that. So, part of me is wondering if a good chunk of this whole thing is my mom not truly realizing that her kids were grown, and no longer children she could make demands of. Both of the moms have left us alone. I expected my mom to continue to kick up a fuss, but I think the cops spooked her.
There was a wonderful suggestion by a comment or to get their pastor involved, which I passed along to my dad. Dad has since spoken to their pastor about everything. He's a young guy, relatively new to their church, and joked that his first month on the job he had to do 3 funerals in a row and his new "flock" were just dying to get away from him, so he's got a sense of humor which is nice. The new pastor agreed to sit down with everyone and help the family hash it all out in a true "Come to Jesus" type moment next month, so that maybe we could celebrate Easter together as our first holiday as a family. Dad said the pastor was aware our family was having some troubles, but unsure of exactly what was going on, and since he was new, the pastor didn't want to pry. He has also agreed to do a small service down at my uncle's maple grove later in the summer, as it usually floods and is a muddy mess all spring. According to my dad, my aunt and uncle are so over all the drama and just ready to move on, so I expect hugs and apologies from them when we next meet.
Stardew Valley Update: My brother was victorious in the grand fight for Leah. It was a hard battle. Well fought. When my husband exposed his plans to woo Sebastian all this time, it was quite the betrayal. Dramatics aside, their farm is really cute and I'm so happy they're enjoying the game!  
Update 4/1 - Final one I think - April 1, 2024
Happy April Fools everyone! I hope you all check your caramel apples for stray onions before taking a bite! I also hope your Easter weekend was a delightful one.
It is with great joy that I tell you all about our most recent update! Possibly even a conclusion to this whole ordeal.
The entire family (aunt, uncle, moms, dads, brother, me, husband) and pastor met at my dad's house and we all sat down to hash the situation out. As expected from what my dad said, my aunt and uncle greeted us all with apologies and hugs, which was nice. My uncle usually helps host the Easter egg hunts with the church and he brought our Easter baskets to give to us in case us kids weren't sticking around the for the weekend. I'm not sure why but seeing it made me tear up and feel stupid, because it was just a basket of candy but it meant a lot to me for some reason.
The pastor led us in a prayer and talked about forgiveness and such. He then asked us all to talk one at a time about how we're feeling and what we want the end result of today to be. No one was allowed to interrupt so everyone got to talk. It was nice. The consensus for the group was that most everyone wanted things to go back to "normal". The only ones who had any variance off this was my mom and step dad. They both wanted all us kids to move back to the area.
The pastor asked them why they wanted us back, and neither could give a good reason other than "because family", and the pastor asked us if we were thriving where we were. And we said we were. He asked if we were happy there. Which we were. He then asked my mom and step dad if they wanted us to give up our happiness to make them happy.
And Mom broke down and said no. We all had a good cry. The pastor then asked about the funeral and lies that led up to it and followed it and how it made us all feel and what we wished we'd done differently if we had the chance. It was all very emotional, but in a good way, you know? Everyone apologized and admitted they f-ed up and did a really crappy thing.
We all talked for a long, long time and the pastor was a great mediator. Eventually we all reached some sort of resolution and I think we're good now. Emotions are still high and a little raw in areas, but we stayed for Easter weekend and had a nice time. We're going to keep moving forward slowly and try to repair the relationship, but I believe we're well and truly out of the woods.
As for my brother, he's still staying with us, and mom will stop trying to guilt trip him back home. He's thinking about renting a small apartment in our area but we're not pushing him to make a decision. He knows he's welcome to stay as long as he wants. I think he wants to try dating (he's had a few girlfriends but never anything serious) and is embarrassed to bring any girls around our place, lol. He's been going to a few random classes/bookclubs at the local library for something free to do and hitting it off with all the little old ladies who attend, and they keep trying to hook him up with girls his age who they know. He has been on a few lunches/coffee dates with a couple girls, but I think he's too embarrassed by the attention to give it a real try at "dating" any of them. He's happy, though, which is all I could ask for.
I'm not sure if there will be any more updates, as I think it's all be resolved about as much as it can be at the moment. I wanted to thank you all for your words of advice and giving me a place to vent and scream into the void. Please be kind to one another and to yourselves. Thank you.
Relevant Comments
emjkr: What a nice and hopeful update, I’m really glad you stuck to your guns when everyone threw sanity out the window!
But, could your mother explain how she thought this would work out in her favour?

OOP: I don't think mom thought too far ahead. I believe she assumed it would all just magically work out the way she wanted it to. She said she wasn't sure what she was expecting to happen (which I think was a lie, but I wasn't going to push it).

mak_zaddy: This was a great update! But ummmmmm no stardew valley update? What gives? Has Sebastian been woo’ed? How’s Leah? What’s happening?

OOP: Sebastian has indeed been wooed (and whoohooed) There's kids and cows and chickens. The two are still having a wonderful time at the game. They're working on completing the community center but it's slow going as they aren't trying to speedrun and just doing things as they want. I believe they're thinking about going into the desert mines once they complete that bundle, but they're both super chicken shit about it!

-my-cabbages: I don't really understand what you had to apologize for ... but I'm glad you're happy and the situation seems to be settling down

OOP: There wasn't much of an apology on my end, as everyone agreed I had done nothing wrong. Mine was more of a "I'm sorry you didn't feel as though I would listen." Type apology, which I don't really believe is a proper apology because apologies like that push the blame back on another. I mostly expressed my feelings and the shock of it all, and how betrayed I felt.  

----NEW UPDATE----

Small, happy update: May 7, 2024 (1 month later)
Things as wonderful as the moment. Still doing baby steps with The Moms. We're texting and talking on the phones more, which is nice. Very civil.
Dad "accidentally" bought a bunch of hand crafted bird feeders at a craft fair. By accidentally, I mean: he had a little too much fun in the beer tent, went for a stroll while step mom wasn't looking, and stumbled upon a guy's booth and bought "one of each". He wouldn't tell me how MANY "one of each" was, but he cackled like a witch when I asked. Step mom said she's forcing him to give a few to me, so I'm expecting a delivery or a Dad-visit any day now.
My brother is officially "going steady" with a girl. We've met her a few times and she seems like a real sweetheart. She's our age and has a little boy (5-6 years old, I haven't asked) from a previous relationship (The dad's not in the picture from what I can gather). She's the granddaughter of one of his Book Club members, so the old ladies made good match makers in the end. The relationship is still very new and I'm routing for them.
No new Stardew Valley updates. Work has been a little crazy lately and I haven't been able to play much of anything, and brother has been distracted by his new lady friend. So, husband finally started Baldur's Gate 3, and fell for Gale's "magic trick" so now those two are a thing. I expect him to be sufficiently distracted from reality for the next few weeks.
 

DO NOT COMMENT IN LINKED POSTS OR MESSAGE OOPs – BoRU Rule #7

THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT OOP

Last week my great uncle(73) passed away in the hospital after he'd been in the nursing home for 22 years. When he was 51 he fell down his stairs and the injury resulted in him needing more care and he's been a resident of a care facility basically for as long as I've known him. My mom was his POA and one of the main people in his life that helped him out, almost as if she was his kid rather than just a niece. My great uncle didn't have a partner or kids of his own, so the entire rest of his family was very important to him.
Yesterday my mom was telling the rest of my family about his funeral arrangements that are in the works for his service next week. My mom said that he wanted to be cremated and didn't want any pallbearers. I'm confused because I thought pallbearers refer to caskets, and urn-bearers would be the term used for the people carrying the urn.
Today my mom texted me asking if I would be interested in being an urn bearer. I said "I would, but I don't want to impose on anyone". She said that both of my siblings and 2 of my other cousins would do it. I replied "I thought he didn't want any pallbearers." (trying to use the words that she used from his will). She just replied "urn bearers". I feel like my mom didn't understand what I was getting at, so I asked "Do you think it would be against his wishes if we did that?" She said "Nope, that probably was way before he started going to church again."
I feel like I'm in a moral dilemma of deciding whose side to be on: the dead's choice or the living's. Earlier today, my mom texted me and my siblings asking if we would want to perform any special music at mis memorial service. I said "I feel like if he didn’t specifically ask for that, I wouldn’t want to." No one responded.
To me it seems like my mom is trying to push for her kids to be a part of her uncle's funeral, almost in a way to prove a point that her and her family were a very important staple in his life. I feel like I'm being put in an uncomfortable position to chose. It feels like I'm being asked in multiple different ways to put my affection on display, and I have no idea if any other of my extended family members have been asked to be apart of his service. My great uncle had 5 other siblings, which resulted in 11 nieces/nephews and then 20+ nieces/nephews.
I don't want to be a part of any funeral arrangement that would go against his wishes. I also don't want to create some drama in the family by not being an urn bearer even when I was asked to. I'm leaning towards not being an urn bearer because it's more of a value to me to follow the wishes of a dead relative than to avoid some confrontation/conflict in my family.
So WIYTA for not being an urn bearer at my great uncle's funeral?

From completely leaving out how Azula forced her way into Ty Lee and Mai's lives, and showing just how selfish, demanding and toxic she really is (which happens in season 2 anyways, what was the point of even introducing them already and in the way they chose?)
To leaving out any scenes that show just how much of a character Appa is, instead they reduced him to nothing more than a CGI transportation device, he is SO much more than that! Actually, all of the animals have so much character in the animated show and one of my favorite things about ATLA; the world building is so well thought-out that they really took their time creating all of the cute, dangerous, cool animals we get to learn about and love.
The non-existent scenes showing the budding, slow burn-hints at romance between Katara and Aang, the fact that Katara and Aang didn't even get lost in the underground tunnels together.
The entire Jett arc being reduced to what it was.
For some reason they felt it necessary to shove bits of season 2 into season 1, when the parts of season 1 they did put in were already crammed together and paced so fast.
The most touching part was showing Iroh at his sons funeral, but thats about it.
I don't know, I just felt the time-line, character development, character portrayals were so lackluster and thats without touching base on some of the very dead-pan acting.
I feel some of the casting was really good, Iroh and June specifically - Not only do they look the part but seem they can act the part too, but the actresses they got for Mai and Azula just don't fit what so ever - They do not seem intimidating, maybe with more screen time the actresses will be able to act their way out of the fact they just do not look the part, time will tell.
The Kyoshi scene was cool, the action scenes are pretty well thought out and choreographed well, but there just isn't that HEART in it that makes ATLA... ATLA.
Anyways, just wanted to put my two cents out here since I don't have anyone else to discuss this with lol. I've been a long long time ATLA fan and a long-time lurker on this sub.

AITA for despising my MIL?
My mother in law does not like me, my boyfriend of 4 years has blinders on because everyone else can see it, even his mom's sister. To begin, my boyfriend was hesitant about introducing me to her "because she doesn't like blondes". Her reason being, her now dead ex husband cheated on her with a blonde. She has tried on multiple times to find my boyfriend a new girlfriend, even by trying to drag him to a funeral. She will constantly bring up his past relationships and how they were so sweet and cute and apparently still in contact with one of them. I've brought up her behavior to the boyfriend and he's talked to her about it and she stated that I was insecure. I'm not insecure, just upset about the lack if respect towards me. I usually don't care how much someone spends on me, but the fact is I know she has money, and decides to go to the casinos quite often and she will go get her "free" prizes. Every year, I've received a gift under $10 for every holiday. I get that it's the thought that counts, and she claims she doesn't have money. But knowing that she gives everyone else $50 gift cards, and offers them the free rooms at the hotels, I know I've been lied to and I feel like my boyfriend also gets jipped by his mom while his brother who never has to work gets a free home, while we are literally struggling to even save for a down payment to buy a home.

First Previous
Dr. Dask caught herself lost in thought for what was not the first time that day. The humans were definitely up to something. She paced around her room on the outer-rim of the Lunar facility - built after the previous orbital station was deemed irredeemably outdated by modern standards.
If she’d learned anything in her 20 Earth years studying the people on the blue planet, it’s that they didn’t seem to go without a major war for very long. There were, of course, smaller conflicts and skirmishes all across the planet, as had become routine, but this extended ‘peace’, which had lasted her whole career by this point, must have meant something was off.
Some of her xenosociologist peers theorized that the humans must have, at last, realized how pointless their model of constant bloodbath is, and adopted the ‘civilized’ model of war, as indicated by the increase in their industrial capacities as well as the strengthening of their militaries despite the times of peace. Surely, her fellow scientists argued, this meant that the weapons are starting to be used as a tool of intimidation, rather than destruction and death.
The scientist thought the idea of a “civilized model of war” stupid and inherently contradictory, alas, those assertions were not the main issue she had with their theory. If humans did have a sudden realisation about the horrors they were committing on a daily basis, why were there still so many conflicts all around the world?
Not only that, but the weapons they were testing didn’t seem to be for the sole purpose of shock and awe. Of particular note was when she caught a glimpse of an artillery gun, a weapon designed to launch high-speed projectiles upwards and relying on the planet’s high gravity to bring them down into enemy lines, launching what seemed to be a regular projectile, until it fell on the ground and, rather than exploding, released a large amount of yellow-brownish gas, which surely couldn’t scare the most cowardly of Bannids, let alone a human. She did not know what the purpose of it was, but it definitely unsettled her.
Regardless, almost all of their developments seemed to be about killing each other, but better, and even the most impractical of technologies, namely “zeppelins”, as the humans called the hulking, and very flammable, masses floating above their cities, were being weaponized in one way or the other, for a purpose still shrouded in Dr. Dask’s eyes.
“Ms. Dask?” asked a meek voice, entering her room as she was still pacing around, deep in thought, “The scientists currently stationed at the observatory seem to think large amounts of troops are mobilizing, ma’am, you may want to see this.”
That pulled the scientist right out of her mental state, and heading to the observatory as fast as she could walk before it would be considered a full-blown run. “Thank you, Reylek” she said, directed at the Junior Scientist that was struggling to keep up behind her “This may be the answer I’ve been seeking for so long, we may find what they’ve been doing for all these years” she said, finally finding herself in the confines of the observatory room.
The researcher tried to keep her excitement in check. Whatever was happening, she thought, would definitely involve the deaths of thousands of sapients, as was so terribly common when human militaries got involved with something. She watched, in unabashed curiosity, as armies made of tens of thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, of humans marched across the land, wielding the deadliest and most advanced weapons they had so far been able to grasp.
This was, by far, the largest armies she had ever seen. There were records of larger ones being deployed, sure, but being able to personally witness the sheer scale of such a war was truly astounding. They were still only in the mobilization phase, however, and as such the Dr. furiously took some notes and headed to the cafeteria for dinner, which had an extravagant window giving a beautiful view of Earth. The decommissioned space station also had one, and, when the new Lunar base was inaugurated, the older scientists felt quite salty about losing their favourite lookout spot and demanded that a new one be built.
By the end of the month (human calendar), however, her cautioned curiosity had already been turned into sheer terror. Fighting had broken out all across the world, the brutality of the newly developed weapons unmatched by anything she or any of her older colleagues had ever witnessed. Some of the proponents of the human enlightenment theory had locked themselves in their rooms, not being able to bear the sorrow of knowing that they could not have been any more wrong if they tried.
This continued on for untold days and weeks, casualties piling up on every side of the conflict, both soldier and civilian, in enough numbers to collapse any reasonable alien society. The humans, however, fought on, seemingly unphased.
After a few months, as the fighting still raged on from the thickest of jungles to the hottest of deserts, the main front, in the continent containing the nations who first started the war, seemed to come to a standstill. Dask, now significantly more disheveled than she was those sweet months ago before such a massively important event broke out, felt a glimmer of hope. Surely this stalemate would mean the beginning of negotiations, and a possible end to what could only be described as the worst conflict anyone in the outpost had ever witnessed.
The scientist and her colleagues were watching as both sides dug long, sinuous corridors across a field. This, she thought, would force them into peace. No army, not even a human one, would want to get stuck in such an unwinnable situation, where neither side can reliably attack each other without catastrophic losses on both sides.
The group gawked. Some of the humans along the battlefield had suddenly stopped fighting, even climbing into disputed territory, seemingly mingling with those who were their enemies just a few hours prior. This was, as Dask noted, shocked, probably the most human behaviour she’d ever seen. From a senseless bloodbath to camaraderie and care almost instantly. It further fueled her hopes of a peaceful resolution in the end, as clearly such a display of friendship together with the hopelessness of their military positions would be enough to make both sides come to their senses.
Later reports would note that this truce may have had something to do with the end of the Solar year, an occasion celebrated by nearly all humans for as far as Commonwealth records go. The armistice, though, did not last long. By the next day it may as well have never happened, much to the chagrin of the researchers, still hanging onto the slim hope that this would end soon, if not by collaboration then by hopelessness alone.
That, however, was not the case. It had been roughly 5 (human calendar) months since the seemingly random act of peace. Hundreds of thousands more had died, and at this point Dask believed the humans couldn’t actually grasp the scale of what they were doing, especially given how mysterious the actual reasons for the war still were to her. What unfathomable offense had been made for it to spark such slaughter? She did not have the answers, all she knew is that the humans did not seem at all inclined to back down.
By this point, their weapons were only one of the many sources of death and sorrow in this war. Disease ran rampant, with no proper medical facilities on the frontlines, and a lack of supplies meant that several thousands simply starved to death, not a single bullet needing to be fired to cause their demise.
The mood on the research team was somber. The war had been dragging on, and Dr. Dask wondered just how many sleepless nights were yet to come, for she couldn’t truly rest while such terrible acts were taking place so close by. The silver lining, if you could call it that, is that she’d grown somewhat jaded to human warfare, and it did not make her as nauseated as it should, and as it did in the past. Until the shells hit.
As Dask watched, projectiles came down from the sky on a human trench, though, unlike the explosions she’d grown accustomed to, they simply released large amounts of a brownish-yellow gas, which she remembered seeing all those months ago, being tested. Once it dissipated enough to see through, she understood its true purpose, and immediately wished she hadn't. Hundreds of humans, twitching, coughing, vomiting, their skins burnt despite the absence of fire, some of them eerily still, choked out by the gas that had displaced the air on the long dirt corridors.
She stared, in shock, as the other side began charging, putting on masks that deprived them of all human features and walking into the dying lines, immune to the effects of the deadly gas. They mercilessly killed anyone and everyone wearing the wrong uniform, even those already on the floor. She thought about that in contrast to that serene night in which they mingled, it was hardly believable that they were of the same species, let alone the same people altogether.
Vomit filled the observatory. The other researchers, like Dr. Dask herself, thought they were used to human antics at this point, but their ingenuity when it comes to cruelty once again proved to be unrivaled. Most others left the room, leaving the dirty work to the cleaning bots. The Dr. did not vomit, if for no other reason than that she had not yet eaten, and as such physically could not do so. She also returned to her room, no longer feeling even the remotest scientific curiosity to watch such a terrible event unfold.
Over the next several years. The war dragged on and on, mountains upon mountains of bodies piling up,the count in the millions by now, civilians included. The clothes were stripped from the dead, washed anew and given to a young, excited recruit, just for them to meet the same fate, and repeat the cycle once more. Morale among the researchers was at an all time low, many choosing to no longer accompany the fighting as closely, and some retiring from the facility entirely.
The humans, of course, did not care much for the emotions of aliens they didn’t even know the existence of, and as such only got more and more creative with their machinations, from flying machines strapped with bombs and guns, to a brand new vehicle named the “tank”, which was, by all means, a marvel of engineering for their civilization, albeit prone to constant breakdowns. All that to fuel a war which Dr. Dask was still unsure as to the cause.
Dr. Dask herself, albeit far worse-for-wear than she had been before this, kept going. While the overwhelming cruelty was evident, she could not simply ignore the random glimmers offered by the various and random acts of kindness she had seen across the war. From the truce on that night, to a random soldier helping an injured enemy combatant, to humans risking their own life and walking into the line of fire to rescue their comrades.
That’s why, when the day of the Armistice finally came, she was one of the few left from the original team still there to witness it, and, as soldiers disbanded and went home, she could only look across the cafeteria window and into the blue marble above, wondering if this troubled species could ever truly achieve peace and step into the galactic stage as new allies, rather than pariahs.

Author's Note: The masses have once again spoken. I hope you don't mind a slightly more well informed perspective this time, as I can only come up with so many excuses to force an unwitting alien to witness the horrors of war. Definitely a more somber chapter too, which I find rather appropriate for WWI. Once again this turned far larger than I originally intended and I do apologise to those who wanted a detailed, more entertaining reaction to tanks and such, though I felt like it simply would not fit properly into this particular narrative. Finally, feedback and corrections for random inaccuracies are welcome as always. Enjoy!

The garage door shut with a groan behind us, closing us in the gloom of the single bulb hanging over the car.
Mother took a drag off her cigarette and sighed as she exhaled, the smoke filled the cabin of the Ford and stung my eyes.
“You really disappointed me today, Julianne," she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray below the dash, "you embarrassed me in front of the other mothers at the Ice Cream Social, shoveling down seconds and thirds like a pig. I thought I raised you better than that.”
She took another drag, daintily holding the cigarette between her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I'm going to have to tell your brother about this," she continued, “he'll have to come up with a punishment fit for a pig."
I felt my stomach drop. My kid brother, Thomas, was only six, but could be exceptionally cruel. Mother seemed to encourage him and was deferring to him more and more frequently for how the house was run, especially concerning my upbringing.
"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry I was a pig and ate so much ice cream. I promise I won't do it again, I'll never eat any ice cream again," I was pleading with stone, unyielding.
“Hush your mouth. Go to your room and wait for Thomas," she put out the cigarette and got out of the car, I had no choice but to follow.
It felt like walking to the gallows as I stepped inside the house and headed towards the stairs to go to my room. Thomas had grown fond recently of physical punishment, he obviously delighted in Mother whipping me with a belt or, recently, Mother had allowed him to start beating me with a wooden spoon. He would squeal and giggle like a normal child watching bubbles in the wind while I screamed. I was dreading whatever was going to happen tonight, I chastised myself for eating that ice cream, I should have known she would show up. My sins were always laid bare.
Down the hall, I could hear Thomas watching television in the den. I only got to watch TV for half an hour on Saturday morning and new episodes of Happy Days with Mother and Thomas. Thomas got to watch all the TV he wanted. He could listen to the radio and turntable as much as he wanted, as loud as he wanted. Thomas had an entire room just for his toys.
I entered my bedroom, it was a space I occupied, but it didn't feel like mine. Mother kept it spartan, white walls and white bedspread. A crucifix over the bed and a painting of Jesus over the door. I had my desk and chair and a dresser with some of the porcelain dolls Daddy gave me before he died that Mother let me keep. That was it.
I placed my book bag down and sat on my bed, waiting for Thomas. It was a while, sitting there with nothing but my own thoughts and staring at the open door. I felt humiliated, I was almost thirteen and my entire life was dictated by my brother. Mother kept the house in constant lockdown to keep Thomas a secret. No outsiders were allowed in. I couldn't have friends because she was afraid I would mention him or sneak a friend in to gawk at my brother and tease him for being different.
I would never make fun of him, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he was and what he was becoming.
Eventually I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and I felt my heart start beating faster and my palms began to sweat. I kneaded my skirt in my hands, trying to calm myself and dry my palms. His slow arrhythmic footsteps came down the hall and I watched him as he entered the room.
I couldn't help but internally recoil at his appearance, even though I'd known him since he was born, I could never adjust to how unnatural he appeared. Thomas had been born at home and had never seen a doctor, but he was obviously unwell.
He was six years old and was barely over two feet tall, but very squat and wide. His skin was thick and gray, the whites of his beady eyes were yellow and his hair was wispy and white like an old man's, spreading out like a halo around his gargoyle face. A slight odor of decomposition hung about him, it reminded me faintly of garbage cans on a hot summer day. I hated when Mother made me help him with a bath, his skin felt like old brittle leather that flaked onto my clothes in gray flecks. His body was dense like concrete, I could barely lift him into the tub. Picking him up forced his hair into my face where that smell of rot would fill my nose, causing me to gag, silently, so as not to offend him and draw any ire from him or Mother.
Today, Thomas was wearing bib overalls with a red and green striped sweater underneath, reminding me of a grotesque doll.
“Mama says you acted like a piggy today at the ice cream social,” he spoke up to me in his unsettlingly high pitched, yet raspy voice, like a child that smoked as much as Mother, "you need to come down for dinner right now for your punishment for embarrassing Mama."
He turned and walked back down the stairs and I had no choice but to follow his toddling form downstairs to the dining table. We entered the kitchen and the table was placed with two settings. Mother was already seated and Thomas clambered up into his booster seat at his normal spot next to Mother. She took a drag off her cigarette and motioned vaguely to the floor without even looking at me.
Neatly situated on the linoleum was my dinner, not on a plate, but directly on the floor. A pork chop, scoop of mashed potatoes, and a small pile of peas. No utensils, either.
Thomas giggled with glee upon seeing my face.
“You have Mama's permission now to eat like a piggy, now. No hands! Piggies just use their face!” He stood up in his chair and reached out for Mother’s ash tray and flung it out over my meal, peppering my dinner with cigarette ash and butts.
"Oops! Piggies don't mind trash though, do they, Mama?” he giggled and the sound filled me with rage.
"No, they don't,” Mother replied coolly while maneuvering her ashtray back in place and carefully putting out her cigarette before saying prayer.
As angry as I was, I got down on my hands and knees and did my best at eating what I could without using my hands. I knew if I refused, it would be far worse. The whole meal, Thomas made pig noises and would reach down and poke me with his fork, making comments about what a fat piggy I was and how he wished he could roast and eat me. I doubted Mother would even object if he actually did kill me and eat me.
Gagging my way through another bite of ashy pork chop, I felt a warm splat over my head and heard Thomas giggling. I reached up and felt he had dumped mashed potatoes into my hair.
Choking down tears, I asked Mother if I could clean the floor and bathe. She rolled her eyes and excused me to clear the table for them as well while she changed Thomas into his pajamas. Picking him up, she walked out of the room and Thomas stuck his putrid little purple tongue out at me before they made it out the kitchen door.
I silently cried while I cleared the table and washed the dinner dishes. Tears splashed down as I mopped up the mess from my food on the floor. I hated how awful Thomas was. I hated how they treated me. Ever since Daddy died and Thomas showed up, I was their punching bag. I missed Daddy so much.
Mother was kinder then, too. She was still severe, but Dad kept her tempered. After he died, there was a change that came over her. I was only six, so I didn't remember her too much from before, but I did remember her gushing on and on when she was pregnant with Thomas. How the baby was a gift from Our Heavenly Father, that it was going to complete our broken family.
My sixth birthday happened right after Daddy died and I remember sitting on the patio crying while the house was full of people after the funeral, normally he would have gotten me a new doll and a chocolate bar, instead I was forgotten. No doll. No chocolate. Just funeral potatoes and a house full of cigarette smoke from the adults.
Nobody remembered. The closest thing I got was my dad's sister, Aunt Judy, sitting next to me on the patio step for a few minutes of comfortable silence before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I don't think she knew her brother was memorialized on my birthday. Next year, Thomas was born the day before my birthday, so it was completely eclipsed as Mother had just birthed her new love into the world…
I stopped mid mop as a lightbulb finally went off. I had never put much thought into the dates before.
Thomas was born a full year after Daddy died. He couldn't be his dad. Who was Thomas’ actual father?
Washing mashed potatoes out of my hair that evening, I ran over and over the timeline. No matter how I parsed it out, Thomas was only my half brother. Going to bed that night, I kept myself awake, going over and over again to make sure. I couldn't remember any men being around at that time, but that didn't mean much. Adults can easily hide things from children. Tension began throbbing through my head and I felt queasy. Mother had always known all of my secrets, able to sniff them out like a bloodhound out or using Thomas to spy. Now I had one of Mother's secrets and I didn't know what to do with it.
First I wanted to confirm it, but it would mean snooping, which was difficult in a house that was rarely left empty. I would have to try finding Mother's calendar book or journal to see if she mentioned any dates or men.
But when could I attempt such a daring maneuver? Thomas hardly left the house. As proud as Mother was of him, she was very cognizant and protective of his differences and didn't want to draw attention to herself or Thomas like that. Mother herself had few social engagements throughout the week and mostly stayed home to watch her golden child.
I finally decided I would take the risk and fake sick on Tuesday, grocery day, so I could stay home from school while she went shopping. All Thomas did all day was watch TV downstairs, so that should give me about an hour to look through her room for clues. I decided to tuck my head down, try to behave as best as I could to avoid their wrath, and wait for Tuesday.
That weekend limped along agonizingly slow. Thomas was in a fine mood and was constantly seeking out a reason to poke me, punch me, slap me… he'd laugh while calling me a piggy with his off-putting wide mouth. I tried to mostly stay in my room and it seemed like neither of them cared.
School on Monday was a relief, but my anxiety ramped up. The consequences would be dire if Mother caught on that I was faking sick to stay home. I didn't even want to imagine how off the leash she'd let my half-brother become in his punishment for that level of insubordination.
I stayed up all night, my stomach was in knots, but I was committed to my plan. Throughout the night, I screamed as hard as I could into my pillow. Screamed until my throat was raw and I could barely talk. It felt cathartic in a way. When it was close to school time, I put on my heaviest flannel pajamas and began doing jumping jacks until my face was flushed and my scalp was soaked with sweat.
Looking in the bathroom mirror before heading down to talk to Mother, I thought I looked pretty convincing, my skin was flushed and sweaty, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, and my voice croaked like a frog.
Heading downstairs, Mother was already feeding Thomas breakfast. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen and stood there awkwardly for a second, pawing with my pajamas to keep my nerves steady until she noticed my presence and looked up.
“Why aren't you dressed, Julianne?"
"I don't feel well. My throat hurts and my tummy hurts.” My voice graveled out more than I was expecting, I really had hurt my throat.
She strode over to me and placed a cool hand on my sweaty brow.
"You do feel warm. Take an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and go lay back down. I'll check on you later," with that she turned back and walked over to Thomas, who was frozen in place, glaring at me over a forkful of scrambled eggs. The sharp glint of malice in his beady eyes made me shiver before I shuffled out of the kitchen.
I laid in bed, trying my best to look miserable until I eventually heard the faint sound of the television playing in the den as Thomas settled in for his normal daytime routine and the garage door opened as Mother headed to the grocery store. I bounded out of bed and watched the car back out of our driveway and head up the street.
My heart began to pound as I tiptoed down the hall to Mother's bedroom, a place I rarely even caught a glimpse of, let alone entered. I very slowly opened the door, taking great care to not make any noise to alert Thomas downstairs that I was out of bed.
Creeping into the butter yellow room, I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my skull, this was the naughtiest thing I had ever done by far. I stepped onto the rug to help disguise my footsteps and slowly made my way past the brass bed and towards her desk. My hands shook as I opened the top drawer, I pawed through rapidly and found nothing. I checked the next drawer down and again found nothing of interest, just stationary and envelopes.
Finally, the bottom drawer was what I was looking for, a stack of journals from the past decade. I flipped through, trying to find entries relevant to when Daddy died and who Mother slept with afterwards.
I've never fully recovered from what I read.
July 6, 1968
Edgar died today. Car accident. I cannot believe this is real. My light, my life, my anchor... Dr. Benson gave me a sedative at the hospital and I feel so tired. So very, very tired. Why has my Lord forsaken me so?
July 9, 1968
I feel like I am in a very bad dream, I feel numb and disconnected. All the consolation and pity from everyone makes me feel sick. After the memorial, it took everything in me to not break dishes and to scream at everyone to get out of my house. Julianne was moping about crying and I wanted to throw her out, too.
If I hadn't seen my dear Edgar's body in the hospital and held his urn in my own hands, I wouldn't believe he was really gone. I still don't entirely believe it.
I have prayed to God every night asking him to show me why he took my husband from me and I have gotten no answer.
I skimmed over the next few months, as it was more or less similar sentiments repeated night after night. I finally got to an entry that caught my eye.
September 17, 1968
My battle with my faith has been fraught the past few months, but Hallelujah! I feel I can see the Lord again in all his glory and might, for he has given me a way to reconnect to my Edgar!
I was thinking about the night Julianne was born, right in this very home, it was a difficult birth and she struggled to breathe at first. Ingrid, my midwife, made a comment to me that if the baby had failed to wake up on her own, that Ingrid had ways to make sure she would have made it.
I remember asking if it was a medical methodology and she made it clear to me that in certain circumstances, it was a mystical property she used to bring the air of life into a struggling baby's lungs. She gently alluded to being a practicing member of the dark arts. At the time, I felt quite scandalized to have someone like that in my God fearing home. Now I see her as the answer to my prayers! My angel!
On a whim, I called her and asked if she still practiced such techniques. She hesitantly confirmed that she did. I asked, if she could turn breath into the lungs of a child without, could she turn breath into a child that did not exist? Could she magick into existence another child of my beloved Edgar? She told me she had to do some research and she'd be back in touch.
Ingrid just called back after a few hours and said there was a spell she found, but it was dangerous and might have unpleasant results. I said, yes, of course! I trust my Lord and I believe he sent this woman of blessed magick to me for this purpose.
She says we will have to do it soon, in a few days during the new moon. She has a potion to brew, but it is happening! Praise God!
September 23, 1968
The ceremony was last night, and Ingrid believes it was a success, but we will have to wait. It did not take long, only an hour or two. Ingrid lit my bedroom with many beeswax candles and she had me drink a thick and bitter tea that caused me to become quite relaxed and foggy.
From my inner thigh, she cut me and collected my blood in a chalice, with which she mixed quite a lot of Edgar's ashes and other ingredients which I could not glean from my supine position and groggy wits. Ingrid began to chant, calling upon a higher power, as I pleaded with my Lord to let this work. To give me any piece of my Edgar back. She came to the bed and worked the paste between my legs into my womanly chamber, which was very uncomfortable, but manageable with the numbing effects of the tea.
She continued to sit with me and chant, her hand placed over my womb, until she decided at which time it was complete. She left and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up this morning, I felt quite uncomfortable, my body ached and when I used the restroom, a yellow fluid like pus poured out of me, but no sign of any ashes or blood, which gives me hope it was absorbed into my womb.
November 3, 1968
Praise be to our Lord, Ingrid just confirmed for me that I am with child, I had been hoping so, I had not gotten my cycle in October, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the discharge like pus that was still coming. She told me that was common with this spell and a side effect that would stop after the baby came.
I feel like I am floating on air, for the first time since Edgar left, I feel-
I suddenly became very aware of the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. I had become too engrossed in what was written before me and I had lost track of my surroundings. Very slowly, I turned around and my heart began pounding again as I saw Thomas standing in the doorway holding his wooden spoon in one hand. How had I not heard him?
He pointed at me with his empty hand and screamed, just a pure guttural screech from somewhere deep inside his disgusting little body. He charged at me from across the room, his horrible feet thumping solidly along the rug. He began beating my legs ruthlessly with the spoon, causing my legs to buckle. I crashed down to my knees in front of him, and he began lashing at my face, pulling my hair with one hand while wailing away at my head with the spoon.
I had dropped the journal I was holding and was desperately trying to get a hand on the spoon or push him away. All I could hear was him screaming. My arms flailed and I reached around on Mother's desk and grabbed onto the first thing I found and sank it into Thomas’ neck.
The end of Mother's gold letter opener protruded under his jaw. He went silent and he looked at me with utter shock. He dropped the spoon and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his neck as his thick black blood oozed out from his wound, letting out a stupendous odor of rot that filled the room. He didn't really say anything or make any noise. He just twitched for a moment and I saw his eyes glaze over.
In shock, I stood over his little body for a moment and I watched as he seemed to mummify in just a few minutes, like an ash person from Pompeii dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Even his blood that looked like shiny oil a second ago became like potting soil on Mother's rug. Reaching out to touch his hand, it crumbled away like sand.
Panic ran through me like a rabbit caught in a snare. Not knowing what to do, I ran. I ran down the hall, changed my clothes, put an extra change of clothes in my backpack and the last doll Daddy had ever given me and I ran. Mother would absolutely never forgive me and I was genuinely afraid she would kill me in retaliation for taking her beloved Thomas away from her. Her precious gift from God. My feet flew over the pavement and took me away from that house.
I called my Aunt Judy from a payphone outside the five & dime, and told her Mother had kicked me out and asked if I could stay with her. She had always had a strained relationship with my mother and it didn't take much convincing that she had kicked out her “only” child. Only Mother, Ingrid, and I ever knew about Thomas.
She gave me a home and took care of me. She never beat me or humiliated me. Even with her love, I was far from okay. For years I would close my eyes and hear Thomas scream, then the sudden silence. I'd see him fumbling at his neck and turning to ash. But I would also remember all the ways he would hurt me and how bad he was becoming. I could never talk to anyone about it, especially not the silent relief I felt I refused to admit to myself. Over time, however, Thomas' screams became a whisper and his silence faded into dust in my mind.
I moved on with my life. I went to college and became a photojournalist, getting to travel the world and watch history unfold. By choice, I never married, but was quite blessed with many beautiful friendships for companionship over the decades. I found balance in my life and a sense of happiness, if not peace. I never could quite stomach mashed potatoes again, though, they always taste ashy to me.
Mother never made any attempts to reach out to me or find me, at least that I'm aware of. Ten years ago, I was contacted by a hospital and they said my mother had been admitted earlier after falling and was about to pass, so she must have kept some tabs on me to know my phone number for her emergency contacts. Apparently she had collapsed in the driveway and a neighbor called an ambulance. I got there and her only words to me were, “take care of him," as she placed a locket in my hand. I opened the locket, Jesus was on one side, Thomas on the other. I didn't say anything to her, just held her frail old hand with nicotine stained nails until she passed in the night. My mother was gone and I felt nothing except a vague sense of relief.
When I got to her house, it was like a time capsule. Other than a newer television, it was just like it was when I'd fled so many years ago. The smell of tobacco smoke hung like incense in the air. It felt oppressive, like a tomb.
I wandered the house in a bit of a daze. The one place I didn't want to go was upstairs. I didn't want to see my old room, or Thomas' room, or Mother's. Putting it off, I went to fix myself some supper, realizing I hadn't eaten in almost a day. I took a pause when I opened the fridge and saw a baby bottle on a shelf. Silently praying she had been babysitting for a neighbor, I fixed myself some toast with sardines and sat eating in the den watching TV. It had been almost forty years and it still felt rebellious not eating at the table and watching TV without permission.
My eyes grew heavy and I finally mustered up the gumption to head upstairs to go to bed. The stairs creaked in a familiar way under my feet and I was taken back to the feeling of dread hearing either Mother or Thomas climbing up. My old room was at the top of the stairs, I saw the door was nailed shut and had rambling quotes about Judas copied from the Bible in my mother's handwriting taped to the door. I sighed gently and turned from the door to head down the hallway, deciding Mother's room was probably the best place to sleep.
I passed by Thomas’ toy room and I heard a murmur from the room. I stopped, curiosity got the best of me and I entered. In Thomas' old toy room was a crib with joyful clown sheets. Dread swelled up inside me as I heard more murmurs and saw the sheets move. Approaching slowly, I peaked under the sheet and gasped.
Tucked inside was what looked like a baby gargoyle, gray and papery looking. Pus leaked out of its milky, bulbous eyes. I pulled back the blanket and saw it had no legs and its arms bent back, like wings on a bird. It was wearing just a cloth diaper, overflowing with tarry looking stool that took my breath away with its pungency, it smelled like Thomas’ blood, but somehow worse. My heart broke for this poor creature, Lord only knows how many years it has been in this crib suffering from its unholy existence.
So this is who Mother had wanted me to take care of…
Not knowing what else to do, I gently scooped him up. Like Thomas, he was shockingly heavy for how small his body was. Placing him on the changing table, I cleaned him and rewrapped his bottom in a clean diaper cloth. It was difficult, he fussed tremendously, crying and flopping around as much as his flipper-like arms would allow. I tried wiping off his oozing eyes and he snapped his mouth, which I saw was full of disturbingly square yellow teeth, trying to bite me. I carried him to the kitchen and rocked him while I heated up his bottle and he became furious with me, almost barking like a dog when my hand would get near his face.
He settled a bit as he fed, but he would still sometimes suddenly spit out the bottle and attempt to bite me. I laid him back in his crib, this abomination in a clown sheet, and I walked down the hall to Mother's room letting out a long sigh.
Combing through my mother's journals in the early hours of the morning, it looked like she tried the ceremony again shortly after Thomas died, but she either lacked Ingrid’s help or didn't have enough of my father's ashes left. Something went terribly wrong. She was vaguer than she had been about Thomas’ conception, but I suspect she had used some of Thomas' remains. The resulting birth she named Isaac.
Mother's journals told a sad tale of her and Isaac's suffering. She never mentioned me, but lamented the loss of Thomas and Dad relentlessly. She was hyper protective of Isaac, as that was all she had left. If her world had been small before, it became microscopic after he entered her life, requiring nearly constant care. According to Mother, he was blind and colicky, sometimes going years at a time without sleeping through the night. She had breast fed him for years, but she had to stop after he grew teeth and began biting her intentionally and feeding on her blood.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days pondering what to do. I had to get her estate in order, she had left me the house, in an obvious attempt to get me to continue caretaking for Isaac, but I didn't want it. I had my own cozy home an hour away from here, filled with happy memories and my possessions acquired traveling the world. Mother's home had a heavy energy I couldn't shake. Her and Thomas were both gone, but the memories of the scoldings and beatings hung in every corner, like cobwebs that would never sweep away.
So, I fed Isaac and kept him clean and tried to keep him company, although he seemed to hate me passionately. I took care of him, all the while thinking about what I was going to do. After a week, I felt resolute in what had to be done.
Gathering up all of Mother's journals in a tote, I made my way to Isaac and picked him up and carried everything to the living room.
The ancient logs in the fireplace meant for display ignited instantly. One by one, I fed the journals into the fire, burning away years of my mother's consuming sorrow. Isaac fussed and moaned next to me the entire time. When the last pages shimmered away into lacy ash, I took a throw pillow off the couch and gently cradled Isaac in my other arm. It didn't take long before he stopped struggling and I felt his little body relax after decades of suffering.
I gently wrapped up a bundle in a clown sheet and placed it in the fire. It burned furiously, like the paper in my mother's journals, and was soon gone. Nothing but ashes and embers.
“Don't worry, Mother,” I said purely for my own sake, "I took care of Isaac for you."
And finally, I felt at peace.

In a nutshell, the position acknowledges that while preborn children will eventually experience the full range of characteristics that human life has to offer - consciousness, self-awareness, etc. - they do not suffer by being deprived of it so long as it is painless.
I derived this position from a Peter Singer vs. Stephanie Gray debate. Stephanie Gray argued that moral wrong can occur to people who aren't aware of it. For instance, getting up at a funeral and telling horrible lies about the deceased is morally wrong. However, the comments argued that the moral wrong in that situation is happening to the deceased's loved ones, and not the deceased.
Another example from the comments was that if somebody steals your inheritance, and you never knew about the inheritance, you still suffer because you were deprived of something intrinsically valuable. However, this requires you to eventually become aware of the inheritance, and without that awareness, you are ambivalent to the loss of your money.
How can you suffer if you are dead and got there painlessly?

After 2 years, we are tired of the fight for information needed for police to take us seriously. The individual fraudulently acquired credentials for control before anyone had a clue the victim was vulnerable and now completely financially compromised.
Long story short, aftet some seriously questionable health events, my FIL who couldnt walk from a stroke, passed. My SIL shared duties caring for him at our home.
While cleaning for a post funeral potluck for attendees.. i found AMONG THE CLEANING CHEMICALS.. A HOSPITAL SYRINGE CONTAINING A LABEL IN HIS NAME FILLED WITH A RUST COLORED MATERIAL. THIS WAS PLACED UPRIGHT IN A PHARMACEUTICAL PILL BOTTLE LABELED WITH SIL NAME!
Police took evidence and we found out they did nothing with it at all.
We discovered she committed same crimes she did federal time for previously,. against father using secret POA, 165k loan against family home, then all kinds of shit regarding life insurance and estate stuff.
Anyway. Husband called the night he passed saying how violent his dads illness seemed that night, sent me a video of it, and said he asked SIL to come help so he could sleep for work the next day. She was gone when he woke and FIL was dead.
35k later after cleaning up the mess and not a dollar left in estate to help pay for that (foreclosure, lawyers etc) ...we decided to focus on getting her put away.
Except police just want to call her fake will giving her most assets is a civil matter.
After a binder laying out the case with official documents in an organized and compelling way... no low level LE wants to get involved. Tomorrow a binder goes to the DA. If that doesnt work, the truth if his death dies with us and I cant put abother minute into it for my own mental well being.
Thanks for reading this confession.

Load order

FalloutNV.esm
DeadMoney.esm
HonestHearts.esm
OldWorldBlues.esm
LonesomeRoad.esm
GunRunnersArsenal.esm
Fallout3.esm
Anchorage.esm
ThePitt.esm
BrokenSteel.esm
PointLookout.esm
Zeta.esm
CaravanPack.esm
ClassicPack.esm
MercenaryPack.esm
TribalPack.esm
NavmeshOverhaul.esm
TaleOfTwoWastelands.esm
YUPTTW.esm
Vanilla Enhancements.esm
Main And Pause Menus Overhaul.esm
Uncut Wasteland.esp
Rebuild the Capital.esm
Functional Post Game Ending.esm
TTW Reputations.esm
MoreMojave.esm
SSTIndustrializedSloan.esm
TLD_Travelers.esm
AWorldOfPainFO3.esm
Regulators.esm
SSTGroundedRangerStationCharlie.esm
A World of Pain Revised.esm
Sweet Pain NV.esm
A Trail of Crumbs.esm
TTW New Vegas Speech Checks.esm
Home and Safehouse Tweaks.esm
mil.esp
Functional Post Game Ending - TTW Patch.esm
TweaksTTW.esm
Tactapack.esp
mil_Add-On.esp
Bad Touch.esm
[RWM]-Complete.esm
RtC-Hotpatch.esm
DYNAVISION 3.esm
Home and Safehouse Tweaks - TTW Addon.esm
Impostors and LOD Flicker Fix.esp
TTW FaceGen Fix.esp
MigSpeedFix.esp
The Mod Configuration Menu.esp
Vanilla UI Plus.esp
FOVSlider.esp
Power Armor Holo Panel.esp
PipBoyUITweaks.esp
ItemCards.esp
3DGrenadeIndicator.esp
QuickSelect.esp
JustAssortedMods.esp
TTW Ultimate Invisible Wall Remover.esp
TTW Dialogue and Interactions Expansion Overhaul.esp
Root 'n Loot.esp
Casino Exchange All.esp
Rebuild the Capital - No Pony Express Boxes.esp
TTWZetaRewards.esp
JIP Companions Command & Control.esp
MigArmorDegen.esp
WeaponRequirementSystem.esp
ImmersiveRecoil.esp
DynamicWeaponSpread.esp
DWS_JAM_patch.esp
Reload Reloaded.esp
DynamicDetectionSystem.esp
Supplemental Ammo Crafting.esp
Enhanced Movement.esp
S6S Perks.esp
ATMOS Ambient Overhaul.esp
New Blood.esp
S6S Base Game Perks Redux.esp
S6S Base Game Perks Redux TTW Side.esp
Friends With Benefits Perk Pack.esp
SP TTW Patch.esp
MMAWOP Patch.esp
GRA Scavenger Hunt Balanced NVSE.esp
Titans of The New West.esp
Titans of The New West - Power Armor Sprint JAM.esp
S6S Ingestibles NO DLC.esp
SSTMojaveOutpostSecurityBooths.esp
AfterglowNeonIllumination.esp
Aid Addon.esp
AK112.esp
B42Dropmag.esp
B42Inspect.esp
B42Bash.esp
B42Descriptions.esp
Player Headtracking.esp
B42Inertia.esp
B42Retrievables.esp
B42 RWMS.esp
New Blood TTW Patch.esp
Natural Interior.esp
TestHK33.esp
NVRA - Uzi.esp
M1C.esp
LaserRifleReplacer.esp
127 SMG Rebirth.esp
JSRS.esp
CharacterKitRemake-Hair.esp
Interior Rain.esp
Interior Rain - TTW.esp
CharacterKitRemakeHHandsFix.esp
RtC-RootnLoot.esp
RtC-TrailofCrumbs.esp
NewVegasQuickStart.esp
JustHitMarker.esp
JustHitIndicator.esp
JustHoldBreath.esp
JustLootMenu.esp
JustBulletTime.esp
JustDynamicCrosshair.esp
Casino Bets - Jackpot Limit and Chips Exchange v1.2.esp
10YearPack.esp
T60Pistol.esp
GhoulPistol.esp
dD - R.B.E.T Main NV.esp
dD - Enhanced Blood Main NV.esp
MCPipBoy2000MK6_clock.esp
HeadShotSplatter.esp
Atmospheric Lighting Tweaks TTW.esp
ATMOS Ambient Overhaul Patch - Atmospheric Lighting Tweaks.esp
FNVLODGen.esp
DNWeathers.esp
RTC-DNWeathers.esp
NeutralWeathers_TTW.esp
Realism Redux.esp
Mod list
+DYNAVISION 3 - Total Visual Enhancement
-Dusty Distance Redone
+Desert Natural Realism - Redux
+Blood Trails - ESPLess
+FNVLODGen
+OneTweak for FNV
+The Mod Configuration Menu-Quickfix
+Neutral Weathers - DNW for NVR - NV - TTW
+New Vegas Quick Start
+Natural Interiors
+3D Rain
+Interior Rain
+Interior Rain-Main
+Longer Weather Transitions ESPless
+Simple Total Fog Remover - NVSE
+NillaPlus MIRROR MIRROR 4K 2K 1K
+Real Time Reflections - NVSE
+Atmospheric Lighting Tweaks (Interior Lighting for FNV and TTW)
+Flags HD
+Desert Natural Weathers - NV - TTW
+NillaPlus Crate Expectations 4K (large metal shipping containers)
+NillaPlus Howitz Started--Howitz Going 4K (Nellis artillery)
+NV Compatibility Skeleton
+Fabulous New Vegas-Smile
+Fabulous New Vegas
+10 Year Anniversary Celebration Pack
+Red Rock Canyon Sign HD retexture
+Feral Ghoul Retexture by Koldorn
+Super Mutants HD - 4k Retextures
+TTW Billboards Upscaled Pretty Good HD
+Billboards HD Remade
+NewVegasReloaded
+HQ Freeside Shop Signs
+Goodsprings Sign
+Cottonwood Cove Sign
+Medical Clinic sign
+Strip and Freeside Signs HD Overhaul
-Signs HD - Honest Hearts
+UTI (Upscaled Texture Improvement) - Old World Blues DLC
+UTI (Upscaled Texture Improvement) - Honest Hearts DLC
+UTI (Upscaled Texture Improvement) - Gun Runner's Arsenal DLC
+UTI (Upscaled Texture Improvement) - Lonesome Road DLC
+UTI (Upscaled Texture Improvement) - DLC Projectiles
+UTI (Upscaled Texture Improvement) - Projectiles
+Headshot Splatter
+Explosions Ignore Line of Sight - ESPless
+EXE - Effect teXtures Enhanced
+ETJ Realistic Enhanced Blood Textures
+Enhanced Blood Textures for NV v2_22c
+UTI (Upscaled Texture Improvement) - Decals and Impacts
+Rivet City Signs HD (TTW)
+Paradise Falls HD (TTW)
+Megaton Signs HD (TTW)
+Sunset Sarsaparilla HD
+Hoover Dam Signs HD
+HD Signs Overhaul - Part 3
+HD Signs Overhaul - Part 2
+Street Signs HD Overhaul
+HQ Upscaled posters - Part 2
+Posters HD Remade
+Various Signs HD
+Casino Posters and Signs HD
+Robots HD
+Creatures HD
+Blue metal door retexture
+NillaPlus Wood (Please be mature in the comme
+Honest Barks (new bark textures for maple cedar mesquite and burnt trees)
+Random Stuff HD
+Unique Journals
+Unique Books
+NillaPlus Rebar McEntire (4K 2K 1K)
+Afterglow -- Neon illumination
+TTW - Megaton Signs Redone
+FNV TTW AIO - Interface Upscaled
+White Horsenettle HD
+Clocks HD
+Food HD
+Broc Flower HD
+Xander Root HD
+Vanilla Graffiti Redone
+Great Khans Graffiti Redone
+FNV-TTW Graffiti Redone
+NillaPlus Vault Doors 4K (FNV - TTW)
-Legacy Reborn - Quality Edition
+Contrasted LOD Noise Texture
+Impostors and LOD Flicker Fix
+Simply Upscaled Grass
+Mobile Pip-Boy Light - NVSE
+Pip-Boy 2000
-Visuals_separator
-ExRB - Extended Roombounds
+Collision Meshes
+TTW Ultimate Invisible Wall Remover
+JSRS Sound Mod 2.0
+ATMOS Ambience Overhaul - Atmospheric Lighting Tweaks Patch
+ATMOS Ambience Overhaul-main
+ATMOS Ambience Overhaul
+Sound Extender
-Optimizations_separator
+Aid Addon - Medkits - Blood Draw - Bandages - Afterburner Gum - More
+New Blood
+Sweet Consumables
-Hardcore_separator
+HQ Ranger Hat
+Titans of The New West
+Lily Outfit HD
+Clothes HD - Kids
+Clothes HD - Unique
+Clothes HD - Brotherhood
+Clothes HD - Powder Gangers
+Clothes HD - Doctors
+Clothes HD - Gamblers
+Courier Duster HQ 4K
+Clothes HD - Prewar
+Clothes HD - Kings
+Clothes HD - Workers
+Clothes HD - Wasteland
+Physically Based Rangers
+Glowing Ranger Visors
-Armor_separator
+New Vegas Animation Overhaul Guns
+M1 Carbine (KNVSE)
+FNV Clean Animations - Auto-Axe
+FNV Clean Animation Sets - Laser Rifle
+FNV Clean Animation Sets - Grenade Rifle-Main
+FNV Clean Animations - Explosive Mines Pack
+FNV Clean Animations - Grenades Pack
+Assume the Position - An Unarmed Animation Overhaul - Part 1
+FNV Clean Animations - Minigun
+FNV Clean Animation Sets - Grenade Rifle
+FNV Clean Animations - Throwing Weapons Pack
+FNV Clean Animations - Ripper
+FNV Clean Animations - Fat Man
+FNV Clean Animations - Grenade Rifle Redux
+FNV Clean Animations - Alien Disintegrator
+FNV Clean Animations - Grenade APW
+FNV Clean Animations - Incinerator
+FNV Clean Animations - Rock-It Launcher
+FNV Clean Animations - Missile Launcher
+Butcher Pete Complete - A Melee Animation Overhaul
+Wasteland Warrior - A Melee Animation Overhaul
+Laser Pistol 3rd Person Latch animation fix
+Grenade Launcher - 3rd person bug fix
+No Reload Cancelling
+Hit - Anti-Materiel Rifle Anim Set
+Hit - B42 Interact Skinning-Human
+Hit - B42 Interact Skinning
+B42 Weapon Inertia
+Retrievable Throwables Reforged
+MadAce's Ragdoll compatibility patch
+Player Headtracking
+B42 Melee Bash
+B42 Inspect - aka Animated Ammo and Weapon Condition Checking
+B42 Dropmag and One in the chamber
+B42 Inject - Animated Item Use - ESPless
+B42 Optics - ESPless
+WAP B42 Optics Patch
+B42 Loot - Animated Physical Item Pickup - ESPless
+B42 FireMode - Selective Fire and First Shot Precision - ESPless
+B42 Interact - Animated Items and Interactions Framework - ESPless
+Hit - Lewis Gun Anims
+SYNC - Remade kNVSE Animation Set - Classic AK-112 - The Adytum Rifle-
-Animations_separator
+Gauntlets Debulked
+NVRA - Uzi-4k
+NVRA - Uzi
+NVRA - HK33-4k
+NVRA - HK33
+Physically Based Plasma Rifles
+Fallout TV - The Ghoul's Handcannon
+WAP Year One and Bonus
+Laser Rifle Rebirth
+WAP 12.7 SMG Rebirth-4k
+WAP 12.7 SMG Rebirth-Reticle Fix
+WAP 12.7 SMG Rebirth
+WAP Lever Action Shotgun-4k
+WAP Lever Action Shotgun
+WAP F4NV Recharger Weaponry-4k
+WAP F4NV Recharger Weaponry
+WAP Single Shotgun-4k
+WAP Single Shotgun
+WAP 12.7MM Pistol-4k
+WAP 12.7MM Pistol
+WAP Grenade Launchers
+WAP F4NV Laser Pistol and Pew-Pew-4k
+WAP F4NV Laser Pistol and Pew-Pew
+WAP Laser RCW-4k
+WAP Laser RCW
+DKS and Friends
+WAP - F4NV .44 Magnum Weaponsmith
+WAP - F4NV .44 Magnum-4k
+WAP - F4NV .44 Magnum
+WAP Bozar and LMG
+WAP Year One and Bonus-4k
+Tactapack
+Another Millenia
+Another Millenia Gun Add-on
+T60P - Power Armor Sidearm-NVAO patch
+T60P - Power Armor Sidearm
+Classic AK-112 - The Adytum Rifle-SYNC animation patch
+Classic AK-112 - The Adytum Rifle
+NVRA - M1 Carbine-4k
+NVRA - M1 Carbine
-Weapons_separator
+B42 Descriptions aka Pip-Info
+Character Kit Remake - Teeth
+Improved Vanilla Male Body
+Character Kit Remake - Hands
+Improved Vanilla Male Body - Seamless - 4k-f3
+Character Kit Remake - Hands-IVMB
+Character Kit Remake - Hair
-Character Kit Remake
-Character Kit Remake TTW Facegen
-Character Kit Remake - Uncompressed Faces
-Character Kit Remake-IVMB
-Character Kit Remake Facegen Patches For Many Mods-The Living Desert
-Character Kit Remake Facegen Patches For Many Mods-Uncut NV
-Character Kit Remake Facegen Patches For Many Mods-Sweetpain
-Character Kit Remake Facegen Patches For Many Mods-MoreMojave
-TTW Character Kit Remake Facegen Patches For Many Mods-Rebuild The Capital
-Character Kit Remake Facegen Patches For Many Mods-FPGE
-Character Kit Remake Facegen Patches For Many Mods-EVE
-Character Kit Remake Facegen Patches For Many Mods-AWOLP
-TTW Character Kit Remake Facegen Patches For Many Mods-The Regulators
-TTW Character Kit Remake Facegen Patches For Many Mods-A Trail of Crumbs
+IHWT - Improved Heavy Weapons Textures
+HIPControl - Weapon Idle Position Adjuster - ESPless
+TTW (D.I.E.O.) Dialogue and Interactions Expansion Overhaul
+GRA Unique Weapons Relocated
+TTW The Regulators
+TTW A Trail of Crumbs
-TTW - Wasteland Supplements-Uncut Extra Collection
+TTW - Wasteland Supplements-Uncut Wasteland
+Rebuild the Capital - A Brotherhood of Steel Expansion Mod TTW Edition-Hotpatch
+Rebuild the Capital
+MoreMojave- AWOLP
+MoreMojave
+Sweet Pain NV-TTW Patch
+Sweet Pain NV
+Improved Security Booths
+Grounded Ranger Station Charlie
+Industrialized Sloan
+A World of (Less) Pain - A Lore Friendly AWOP Revision
+TTW A World of Pain for Fallout 3-JIP CCC Avatar
+TTW A World of Pain for Fallout 3
+Uncut Wasteland
+The Living Desert - Travelers Patrols Consequences Increased Population and more
+Functional Post Game Ending
+Content_separator
+Realtime Weapon Modding System
+Essential Vanilla Enhancements Merged
+Higher Casino Bets - Jackpot Limit and Chips Exchange
+Friends With Benefits Perk Pack
+Sweet Perk Overhaul
+Sweet 6 Shooter Perks - TTW - NV
+Enhanced Movement
+Enhanced Movement-Ini
+New Vegas - Enhanced Camera
+Supplemental Ammo Crafting
+Combat Enhancer Updated
+Sweet Dynamic Detection System
+Weapon Jamming Tweaks - ESPless
+Reload Reloaded
+Dynamic Weapon Spread 2.0-JAM Patch
+Dynamic Weapon Spread 2.0
+Immersive Recoil 2.0
+Weapon Requirements System
+Real Weapon Mods 2
+ADO - Armor Damage Overhaul
+Home and Safehouse Tweaks
+Perk Styled CCC Icons
+JIP Companions Command and Control
+TTW - Mothership Zeta Rewards
+TTW New Vegas Speech Checks
+TTW Reputations
+TTW Merchant Supply Expansion-Flak
+TTW Merchant Supply Expansion
+Hardcore Perk Every Level
+TTW - Wasteland Supplements-Tweaks for TTW
+TTW - Wasteland Supplements-MAPMO
+Casino Exchange All
+Better Caravan
+Root 'n Loot TTW
+Tweaks for TTW
-Gameplay_separator
-Radiation Visuals
+Drowning Visuals - ESPless
+Quick Select - A Zelda BOTW Style Quick Menu
+3D Grenade Indicator
+Item Cards
+Pip-Boy UI Tweaks
+High Res Local Maps
+Simple Maps
+TTW Goodies
+Pop-Up Message Icons
+Map Marker Icons
+Consistent Pip-Boy Icons v4
+Consistent Pip-Boy Icons v5 - Reputation
+Consistent Pip-Boy Icons v5 - Addendumb
+Consistent Pip-Boy Icons v5 - Dynamicon
+Consistent Pip-Boy Icons v5 - Extension
+Consistent Pip-Boy Icons v5 - Weapons
+Consistent Pip-Boy Icons v5 - Items
+Consistent Pip-Boy Icons v5 - DLC's Items
+Consistent Pip-Boy Icons v5 - Apparel
+Consistent Pip-Boy Icons v5 - Framework Plugin
+Vault Boy Paper Doll
-3rd Person Camera Overhaul
+High Resolution Screens
+Vanilla Fonts Revisited
+Recent Loot Log - ESPless
+JDC - Just Dynamic Crosshair
+JLM - Just Loot Menu
+JBT - Just Bullet Time
+JHB - Just Hold Breath
+JHI - Just Hit Indicator
+JHM - Just Hit Marker
+B42 Notify - Corner Messages Overhaul - ESPless
+MAPMO - Main and Pause Menus Overhaul
+Cursor Unilaterally Matched (NVSE)
+Clean Vanilla Hud
+Simple Power Armor HUD
+FOV Slider
+Sleep Wait Hardcore Needs
-Scum's Considerably Cute Corner Load Wheel
+Main Menu Redone - TTW
+ySI - Pick Up Prompts
+ySI - Sorting Ycons
+yUI - User Ynterface
+Vanilla UI Plus (New Vegas)
+The Mod Configuration Menu
-User Interface & HUD_separator
+Hit - Millenia Animations - Part 2
+zlib Updated - NVSE
+Weapon Mod Description Fix (TTW)
+Viewmodel Shading Fix - NVSE
+Vent Lighting Fix
+Swimming Creatures Fix - ESPless
+PipBoyOn Node Fixes
+Pip-Boy Shading Fix NVSE
+Muzzle Flash Light Fix - NVSE
+Mostly Fixed FaceGen Tints (NV or TTW)
+MoonlightNVSE
+Improved Lighting Shaders
+High Resolution Water Fog - Water Aliasing Fix
+High Resolution Bloom NVSE
+Fog-based Object Culling
+Fallout Alpha Rendering Tweaks - NVSE
+External Emittance Fix - NVSE
+Equip and Movement Speed Fix - ESPless
+Depth of Field Fix - NVSE
+ActorCause Save Bloat Fix
+ISControl Enabler and Ironsights adjuster (now ESPless)
+Viewmodel Shake Fix - NVSE
+Smooth True Iron Sights Camera
+VATS Lag Fix
+Combat Lag Fix (NVSE)
+Bad Touch NVSE
+Aqua Performa - Strip Performance Fix
+lStewieAl's Engine Optimizations
+Stewie Tweaks Essentials INI
+lStewieAl's Tweaks and Engine Fixes
+Improved AI (Navmesh Overhaul Mod)
+Items Transformed - Enhanced Meshes (ITEM)
+Meshes and Collision - Totally Enhanced Nifs (MAC-TEN)
-Collision Meshes-FNV
+TTW
-Bug Fixes_separator
+Cloud Upgrade NVSE
+Climate Control NVSE
+KEYWORDS
+Basic Console Autocomplete
+Console Paste Support
+Improved Console (NVSE)
+Yvile's Crash Logger
+FNV Mod Limit Fix
+UIO - User Interface Organizer
+kNVSE Animation Plugin
+JohnnyGuitar NVSE - INI Presets
+NVTF - INI Presets
+NVTF - New Vegas Tick Fix
+NVAC - New Vegas Anti Crash
+SUP NVSE
+AnhNVSE
+ShowOff xNVSE Plugin-Settings
+ShowOff xNVSE Plugin
+JohnnyGuitar NVSE
+TTW - Wasteland Supplements-JIP
+JIP LN NVSE Plugin
+Weapon Hotkey Icons
+ROOGNVSE Plugin
+JIP LN NVSE Plugin-Settings
-Utilities_separator
+Fixed ESMs
*DLC: CaravanPack
*DLC: ClassicPack
*DLC: DeadMoney
*DLC: GunRunnersArsenal
*DLC: HonestHearts
*DLC: LonesomeRoad
*DLC: MercenaryPack
*DLC: OldWorldBlues
*DLC: TribalPack

After researching digital calendars since just before Christmas 2023, and after being tired with our whiteboard fridge mounted calendar, we pulled the trigger on a 15” Skylight. In my research I read countless reviews and watched many videos on YouTube that were almost exclusively favourable which helped make our decision. These days the majority of reviews are bought and paid for in one way or another it seems so I should have taken them with a slightly larger grain of salt. After a week with the screen, here are the reasons why it was returned…

1. Price: above all else, if the price was more reasonable and less “luxury”, many of the following issues would be easy to live with.
   1. The Screen: Plainly, it’s pretty pathetic. In a world of 4K, HDR, and Retina displays, the Skylight’s screen looks more at home on a mid-2000’s digital camera. Resolution is fine but the colours are dull and the viewing angles are atrocious. Unless you’re standing dead on the colours will be washed out and the font difficult to decipher at a distance.
   2. Missing Features in Canada: without some wild workarounds, you’ll be missing weather in Canada.
   3. Subscription Service for Photos: This just straight up feels like a price gouge and I don’t support companies that act this way.
   4. Subpar Customer Service: My screen was “offline”, I called Customer Service and was surprised to find they only offer a callback option. I received a callback the next morning from a nice guy who said he couldn’t help but he’d get me a call back from tech support. I fixed the issue myself before getting that call back.
   5. No 2nd Sleep Mode: I had to manually turn it off when leaving for work and on when arriving home since my sleep mode was already scheduled for the nights.
   6. That’s it?: Full awareness that this is a calendar and doesn’t promise to be anything else, but after a week of looking at it and it’s singular functionality I couldn’t help but think “really? that’s it? it doesn’t do anything else?”

Overall, for a product that does nothing but calendars, it’s not as good at the calendars part as Apple or Google (no maps for example). As a screen it’s limited and lacks an attractive viewing experience.
I’d be happy to try another one down the line, I’m sure upgrades will be made, but for now it’s heading back until they feel less like a Beta experience.

This is all short form as I can make it. When I was 15 years old, I was a little skinny skater kid, was bullied a lot. It was my first year of highschool. (Grade 9, Ontario.) I was bullied horrendously. The county kids would golf club shotgun shells at my face while I would skateboard down the hill after lunch break. It bugged me, but I always had the picture perfect mother and father household to return to. I grew up with perfect parents. I was polite, I was determined, I didn’t let anybody stop me. Then my father starts acting strange. He starts acting childish. And while our humour together is immature, this was a grown man acting like a child. It was scary and started kind of suddenly. I come to find he has a brain tumour as my mom tells me. She always would bring me in to help her fold clothes when she had bad news. Anyways, some time goes by. We learn it is a brain tumour. Some times goes by, we learn it is stage 4 cancer. He didn’t smoke, he would only drink during cookouts with neighbours or watching new episodes of the clone wars animated tv show with me on Fridays. Anyways, he progresses, it becomes nightmarish. The man I knew was already dead at one point. It was like his brain cancer was a parasite. I started to become very dark as a person, and detached. He would watch me play Nintendo 64 with his legs shaking violently, not understanding why I was shooting stormtroopers in the game. I told him they are stormtroopers dad remember? The empire? Over time it became a blur from this point. From what I remember that my brain lets me, he was in hospice, sickly, moon faced, like I was watching cancer take over his body and taunt me. I became addicted to crack cocaine , I didn’t take school seriously anymore, I was around violence, meth, constantly partying and hanging with people twice my age or more and started owing debts. I somehow always managed to weasel my way out with sales from my beatmaking hobby. I completely destroy myself for years, stopped attending school, my mother and I were a team, but I constantly worried her. Hard drugs had taken me over. I lost my sense of reality because I didn’t want to think about my father being wheeled out lifeless. Hugging his cold body one last time at the funeral before he was buried. Fast forward, I have been discharged from the phych ward due to a suicide attempt at 18. I still have my cheo bear even though I was old it brings me comfort. His name is Gus. Years of alcoholism follow. Because after my cheo incident weed would make me shake violently. We now come to present day. I am 24. My mother has remarried with a stepfather. He has learned to ease up around us as he grew up a different way. I started adult high-school last year and just passed my math exam. The alcoholism still exists but only once a weekend. It seems I may have developed diabetes from it but it’s not concrete. It’s hard especially with women explaining how you are starting your fifteen year old life at 23-24 but you know what? It’s never too late. Life certainly has a lot more pain in the future as any adult life does. But a life of being a man completely formed by a traumatic event is rough, underneath that is all of the great heart my father taught me. His last words he spoke were “be grape” it sounds silly but that’s his brain cancer. You could tell there was a frustrated man beneath who could no longer express himself. And he meant be great as my mother said. And I will not die until I am. It is never too late, to be great. ❤️

In an emotionally charged eulogy that has captured national attention, Mica Miller's husband, Tom Miller, made a heartfelt attempt to raise his late wife from the dead during her funeral service in South Carolina. The story, first reported by Fox News, has since sparked widespread discussion on the intersections of faith, grief, and love.

A Heart-Wrenching Farewell

Mica Miller, a beloved member of her community, passed away recently, leaving behind a grieving family and friends. During her funeral service, Tom Miller delivered a poignant eulogy that not only honored his wife's memory but also showcased his deep devotion and unyielding hope. As he stood before the congregation, Tom recounted their life together, emphasizing Mica's unwavering faith and their shared belief in miracles.

A Moment of Unprecedented Faith

In a dramatic turn, Tom Miller invoked his faith in a public display of hope, praying fervently for his wife’s resurrection. "I believe in miracles," he declared, his voice trembling with emotion. "I believe that God has the power to raise the dead, and today, I stand before you in faith, hoping for a miracle."
Tom's impassioned plea was met with a mixture of reactions. While some attendees joined him in prayer, others watched in respectful silence, moved by the depth of his love and faith. Despite his earnest prayers, Mica remained at rest, leaving the congregation to process the profound moment they had just witnessed.

Community Reactions

The incident has sparked a wide range of responses from the local community and beyond. Many have expressed admiration for Tom's unwavering faith and the depth of his love for his wife. "It's a testament to their bond and his belief in the power of prayer," commented one attendee.
However, others have raised questions about the appropriateness of such a public display of grief and hope. "It's understandable to want a miracle in such a heartbreaking moment, but it also highlights the need for supporting grieving individuals in their healing process," noted a local grief counselor.

A Reflection on Faith and Grief

Tom Miller's actions have reignited discussions about the role of faith in coping with loss. For many, his attempt to raise Mica serves as a poignant reminder of the power of love and the lengths to which people will go to keep hope alive. It also underscores the importance of community support and understanding in times of profound grief.
As the Millers' story continues to resonate with people across the country, it offers a compelling narrative about the human spirit's resilience and the enduring power of faith. While Mica may not have been raised from the dead, her memory lives on, cherished by those who knew and loved her.
In the face of unimaginable loss, Tom Miller's eulogy stands as a powerful testament to love, faith, and the human capacity for hope.

In an emotionally charged eulogy that has captured national attention, Mica Miller's husband, Tom Miller, made a heartfelt attempt to raise his late wife from the dead during her funeral service in South Carolina. The story, first reported by Fox News, has since sparked widespread discussion on the intersections of faith, grief, and love.

A Heart-Wrenching Farewell

Mica Miller, a beloved member of her community, passed away recently, leaving behind a grieving family and friends. During her funeral service, Tom Miller delivered a poignant eulogy that not only honored his wife's memory but also showcased his deep devotion and unyielding hope. As he stood before the congregation, Tom recounted their life together, emphasizing Mica's unwavering faith and their shared belief in miracles.

A Moment of Unprecedented Faith

In a dramatic turn, Tom Miller invoked his faith in a public display of hope, praying fervently for his wife’s resurrection. "I believe in miracles," he declared, his voice trembling with emotion. "I believe that God has the power to raise the dead, and today, I stand before you in faith, hoping for a miracle."
Tom's impassioned plea was met with a mixture of reactions. While some attendees joined him in prayer, others watched in respectful silence, moved by the depth of his love and faith. Despite his earnest prayers, Mica remained at rest, leaving the congregation to process the profound moment they had just witnessed.

Community Reactions

The incident has sparked a wide range of responses from the local community and beyond. Many have expressed admiration for Tom's unwavering faith and the depth of his love for his wife. "It's a testament to their bond and his belief in the power of prayer," commented one attendee.
However, others have raised questions about the appropriateness of such a public display of grief and hope. "It's understandable to want a miracle in such a heartbreaking moment, but it also highlights the need for supporting grieving individuals in their healing process," noted a local grief counselor.

A Reflection on Faith and Grief

Tom Miller's actions have reignited discussions about the role of faith in coping with loss. For many, his attempt to raise Mica serves as a poignant reminder of the power of love and the lengths to which people will go to keep hope alive. It also underscores the importance of community support and understanding in times of profound grief.
As the Millers' story continues to resonate with people across the country, it offers a compelling narrative about the human spirit's resilience and the enduring power of faith. While Mica may not have been raised from the dead, her memory lives on, cherished by those who knew and loved her.
In the face of unimaginable loss, Tom Miller's eulogy stands as a powerful testament to love, faith, and the human capacity for hope.