I'm in my first serious relationship, one month in, with a girl that I share a lot of interests in common with and makes me feel really happy whenever we hang out, and a girl I can definitely see a future with. She's been in a few relationships and she's very respectful and understanding and we are both communicative with each other.
When we first started dating, I told her that I have a girl best friend that I've known for 10 years. She was cool with it and said she was looking forward to meeting her. What I didn't mention at the time is that my girl best friend made a move on me around a year ago. I didn't mention it initially because of what I recognize now of me being stupid and just not knowing better as part of my first relationship. But I told her a few weeks later after we were having deep talks and she asked is there anything I wanted her to know, and she was obviously very upset at the whole situation. At the time a year ago, I denied the advance and told my girl best friend that I wanted to be platonic and she said she understands because we had such a long history of friends.
The same week after I had the deep talk with my gf, I talked to my girl best friend about what happened a year ago because I kind of just brushed it off and we didn't have an actual face to face conversation about it. I let her know that I could see some hesitancy in her whenever I brought up the subject of both of them hanging out. Basically she said that she's happy for me and my relationship but she can't hide away from her feelings from me, but she understands that if we need to take a step back to make things healthy.
I talked to my girlfriend afterwards and we had a long discussion about the situation and I told her that I understand where she's coming from and I recognize that I need to put some space between me and my girl best friend. She said she hates to put me in a decision of choosing this or that but she feels that her boundary is that I don't hang out one on one with my girl best friend anymore but group settings is okay. I've emphasized with her that it's always been platonic from my side, but she's coming from the point of view that she doesn't know how my girl best friend will feel now, in a year, and longer in the future.
This has been hard for me to digest because deep down I feel like stopping one on ones is the solution I need to go through to truly prosper in my relationships now and in the future, mainly because of the fact that my girl best friend expressed feelings to me a year ago. But it still does feel like it sucks because it's been a friendship of over 10 years and we went through a lot of times together. I feel like I'm accepting of stopping one on ones for the next few months, but haven't really thought about how our friendship would look like in one year.
I feel like I'm stuck in such a tricky spot, trying to balance girl best friend issues with my personal issues of being in a relationship for the first time. I feel like I know the answer is that if I want to develop my relationship with my gf further, then I need to respect her boundary and stop one on ones altogether. The extra layer on top is that my girl best friend is also friends with a lot of my other friends, and we'll all be hanging out in group settings multiple times this summer and in the future, where I would like to bring my girlfriend along. And who knows, maybe my gf and my girl best friend will get along after they meet for the first time, or after a few hang outs in the future.
Just looking for words of wisdom from other people who might have insight on this situation. Appreciate it

Kham stood in the alley, the harsh neon lights of the city casting long shadows across his face. The sounds of laughter and music drifted from the main street, a stark contrast to the desolate surroundings he found himself in. Boxes and dumpsters lined the walls, graffiti marking the crumbling bricks. Despite his surroundings, there was a glint in Kham's eyes that spoke of something deeper, a fire that burned within him, unseen by those who passed by in their ignorance.
One night, as Kham shuffled through the debris of the alley, a figure emerged from the shadows. A cloaked man, his features hidden in the darkness, approached Kham with a sense of urgency. The man's voice was low and urgent as he spoke of Kham's true identity, of his royal bloodline that he had long forgotten. Before Kham could fully grasp the weight of the man's words, a sudden flash of light engulfed them, and he found himself surrounded by a group of men and women in flowing white robes. They were the ancient order of light workers, and they had been searching for Kham, the Warrior of Light and Love.
Training under the watchful eyes of the order, Kham slowly began to unlock the powers that were dormant within him. As he trained, he discovered the true history of his people - a history that had been hidden from them by the malevolent Shadow King, who sought to keep them under his control. Armed with this newfound knowledge and his growing abilities, Kham felt a sense of purpose and determination building within him, driving him to confront the darkness that had plagued his people for so long.
Just as Kham believed he was gaining ground in his battle against the Shadow King, the malevolent ruler struck back with ferocious intensity. His minions swept through the city, capturing and imprisoning those who had begun to remember the truth. The streets that had once been filled with hope and rebellion now lay silent and empty, the weight of the Shadow King's power bearing down on all who dared to defy him.
The grip of the Shadow King tightened around Kham and his allies, straining their resolve and sowing seeds of doubt and fear. Betrayal lurked in the shadows, with whispers of dissent and treachery threatening to tear the fragile alliance apart. As the truth of the Shadow King's control became undeniable, Kham felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on him, his spirit on the verge of breaking.
In his darkest moment, Kham found himself alone, the weight of the Shadow King's oppression bearing down on him with suffocating force. Despair threatened to consume him, but then he remembered the words of the cloaked figure who had first revealed his true identity to him. "You are the Warrior of Light and Love," the figure had said, "it is your destiny to free your people from the shadows." With newfound determination, Kham rose from the depths of despair, a steely resolve shining in his eyes.
Gathering his allies and the knowledge he had acquired through his journey, Kham devised a bold plan to confront the Shadow King and shatter the amnesia spell that had ensnared his people for so long. With the unwavering support of the light workers and the power that pulsed through his veins, Kham led the final, epic battle against the Shadow King and his forces. The clash of light and darkness illuminated the city in a dazzling display of power and magic, each side fighting with all their strength for the future that lay before them.
In the aftermath of the battle, as the city slowly began to awaken from the dark spell that had held it captive, Kham stood triumphantly before his people. The amnesia spell was broken, and the truth of their history was finally revealed, setting them free from the Shadow King's grip. As the people rejoiced and celebrated their newfound freedom, they looked to Kham with gratitude and reverence, knowing that he had been the one to lead them out of the shadows and into the light. And Kham, the Warrior of Light and Love, looked out at the city with a sense of hope and promise, knowing that the future was bright and full of possibilities for all who called it home.

I purchased a spot for a craft show months ago. The show was yesterday. I was led to my spot and it was the last spot in the last row. I didn't say anything because I was understanding that this was just the way it worked out. The lady who led me to my spot said, unprompted, "we made sure to put you in the last spot in the last row!"
My boyfriend (who was just there to help me set up and then go) looked at each other funny and I said "bitch" under my breath. She was already far away from me so she def didn't hear me say that.
It just put a bad taste in my mouth. I looked around, having a nice view of everyone else's tables considering my placement. I saw that people selling bath fittings or the unmanned table "enter for a chance to win a fire extinguisher" had better placement than me. Call me a Karen, call me overly sensitive, but this comment she made really rubbed me the wrong way as a handmade vendor. I wasn't going to say anything, just pack my stuff up and leave.
The owner of the organization happened to come by and stand with 3 other people and I could overhear them talking about how they're not sure where they'll put someone. I took the opportunity to chime in and say oh this spot will be free soon since I'm leaving. She asked why. I explained what the woman said. The owner tried to claim I WASNT in the last row in the last spot. I turned around and gestured at the view I had of literally everyone else. She said, well that's just the way the numbering worked out. It felt good to tell her, which was fine until that lady made that comment. I asked her how she thinks that makes me feel as a vendor.
She tried to offer me a different spot but I was already packed up and ready to go. I told her nope it's already done and I've made up my mind. Maybe she can talk to this woman about the consequences of her actions.
I have much better shit I'd rather do on a nice, sunny Saturday afternoon than sit in a humid gym in the back corner. I'd rather market my products online 10x harder. It felt good to stand up for myself and stick it to her. It was also nice to have my boyfriend there to back me up.
I also said don't worry I won't be back with yall again after this!!

We can get 500 coin envelopes (2" x 2") for $22 and put Kennedy stickers on them. Then buy rolls of Kennedy 1/2 dollars at your bank to put in them and use them for tips whenever you go out to eat.
A guy in a meeting showed black ones, and they looked really sharp with the red, white, and blue stickers on them, but the envelopes come in several colors. Here's a link:
https://www.coinsupplyexpress.com/2x2-coin-envelopes.html

<< First Chapter
< Previous Chapter Next Chapter >
Madeline shuffled in her seat, eyes darting around the room, looking at anything and everything apart from Marcus as she tried to sift through her thoughts. Not that there was much to look at between the plain off-white walls and the worn grey carpet. The room was completely bare apart from the table she and the young guard were sitting at. She wondered what it was usually used for. A quiet office? An interrogation room? A holding cell? Or maybe it was reserved for just this — when an inmate wanted a quiet word with a guard.
Whatever it was used for, the room seemed designed to provide as little distraction as possible. But that was good, wasn’t it? No more delays. That was what she’d agreed with Billie. She would ask her questions now, and then it would be done. The chips would fall and if she got in trouble she could start picking up the pieces.
“Madeline?” Marcus prompted. “You really can ask me anything, you know. It might be hard to believe, but I promise that you can trust me.”
She finally let herself look at him, but her lips remained firmly sealed.
“Besides, I’d have thought you were keen to get this over with so you could go and have dinner.” He grinned at her, tilting his head to look out at her under raised eyebrows. “You’re normally very keen to eat.”
Though she couldn’t bring herself to laugh at his joke, it was reassuring how hard he was trying to be nice. She really wanted to believe that it couldn’t all be an act.
She nodded to herself, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It’s just like I said earlier, I really don’t want to give you the wrong idea or get you in trouble or get me in trouble.” Shifting slightly under his steady gaze, she looked down at her fingers fidgeting and twisting together on the table.
Until a hand slid across into her eye line.
She froze.
Marcus froze too, his hand millimetres from her own. Then, it slid forward again and closed over hers. Though she tensed, she didn’t flinch or pull back. She slowly looked up and met his wide, kind eyes. “I… I was wondering if… I wanted to ask you about…” She closed her eyes and forced the words out. “Has anyone ever tried to escape from here before? And if so, what happened?”
The hand on hers twitched slightly but remained where it was. Surely that was a good sign?
She opened her eyes to see Marcus’s gaze fixed on her, his expression frustratingly neutral.
“Yes,” he said levelly. “People have tried to escape before. Of course they have. People value their freedom.”
“And?”
“And some managed. Though some of those were caught again, and it didn’t end well for them.”
“And those that didn’t manage?”
“It didn’t end well for them either. They tend to make an example of anyone who tries it.” The hand on hers finally slid back, but he leaned in closer, face twisted by concern. “Why are you asking this?”
Finally, one of the answers she’d rehearsed! “Well, I was just wondering about Billie’s brother — and anyone else we might want to enquire about. If they’d escaped or tried to escape, would they still be in the system? And would you be able to tell us about it, even if it wasn’t good news?”
His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t call her out on what now seemed such an obvious lie. “They would still be in our system, yes. As for whether we would pass on the information as to what happened to them… That would depend on the good it could do.”
“Of course. I just know how much closure can help.”
“And that’s the only reason you’re asking?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
She nodded quickly. “Mmhhmm.”
“Because if there might be another reason, I would have to implore you in the strongest possible terms to reconsider whatever you might be planning. Because… Because like I said, it won’t end well.” He inched further towards her, leaning her across the table. “It won’t be by my hand, I can promise you that, but I can’t protect you from the others. And I really, really don’t want to see that happen to you, Madeline. I… I care about you.”
Madeline’s breath caught in her throat. For all Billie’s teasing, she hadn’t really, truly considered the possibility that they might be right. She’d never exactly been popular with boys, particularly with boys like Marcus — a fact that had never really bothered her. And what could she possibly have done to warrant his interest in her baggy shapeless work clothes?
“You remind me so much of my sister,” he continued, glancing down at his hands on the table.
She let out the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.
“She’d have been about your age. She was shy at first too, but had an outrageous mouth on her once you got to know her. She was smart — always reading — and she was quiet and sweet… too sweet for this world.”
Now, it was Madeline’s turn to reach across the table, slipping her hand over his and squeezing gently. “Did you lose her?”
He shrugged. “I suppose I did in pretty much every sense of the word. Though perhaps I’ll never know for certain. So believe me when I say I know what you mean about the importance of closure.”
“What happened?”
Looking up to meet her gaze, he gave her a wan smile. “We’re not here to talk about me. We’re here to answer your questions.”
She smiled back. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But you’ve been such a help to me here. So if you ever want to talk about it, I’d love to listen.”
He was silent a while, expression glazed over as if his mind was elsewhere. Then, his eyes snapped back into focus as if a decision had been reached. “The short version is that we got separated, like so many people did in the early days. I spent a long time looking for her, and it led me here. I paid my dues and worked hard. When they told me she wasn’t in the system, I didn’t believe them. I figured if I became a guard I could check for myself and, well… it turned out they weren’t lying. Or if they were, they covered their tracks well.”
“I’m sorry that you couldn’t find her.”
“Me too.” Glancing back down, he placed his other hand over hers and squeezed slightly. “And I’d also be very sorry if anything happened to you. So please, Madeline, be careful. While I promise you can trust me, there’s not much I can do to help if you get in trouble. And I really couldn’t stand to see you get in trouble.”
“I promise that I’ll be careful,” she said. After all, it was technically true. And though she’d lied many times to survive in this world, it seemed wrong to repay Marcus’s honesty with her own dishonesty.
“And that includes not mentioning any of this to anyone else. If anyone asks, you were here to talk to me about Liam and ask about the arrangements for your family room, okay?”
“Okay. Actually, since you bring it up, are there any updates there?”
He snorted. “Trust me, as soon as there are any updates I will make sure you’re the first to know.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Madeline. You’re always welcome.” Pushing his chair back, he stood. “Now shall we get you back to the dormitory so you can get some dinner?”
She followed suit, chair scraping across the worn carpet. “That sounds good. And Marcus?”
“Hmmm?”
“I really do mean it. Thank you.”
On the walk back, Madeline felt lighter. She hadn’t exactly learned much, though she supposed she should take heart from the fact that some people had successfully escaped this place. But the thing putting a spring back into her step was the knowledge that she had a true friend on her side. And despite what Billie might say, she didn’t need to worry about giving him the wrong impression or any romantic overtures.
In fact, it turned out that Marcus was just like them. He’d come here in search of someone he’d loved and lost.
Madeline wondered how many of the other guards here had similar stories. She was sure that some were attracted to the role because of the power over others, but plenty of them seemed like nice enough human beings. When she’d first arrived, she hadn’t been able to fathom the sort of person who would willingly work for or with the Poiloogs — at least not one she’d like to meet. But perhaps the world was even less black and white than she’d thought.
She could even start to see a world where she’d be happy enough staying here.
Of course, she missed her freedom. Her books. Her library. But the work wasn’t too bad. She had food and a bed. She had Billie. And apparently, she had Marcus too. And soon, she’d have Liam. In a lot of ways, that was a better existence than the one she’d had just a year ago — free, but alone, surviving rather than living.
Author's Note: Next chapter due on 16th June

Link to serial master post for other chapters
Madeline shuffled in her seat, eyes darting around the room, looking at anything and everything apart from Marcus as she tried to sift through her thoughts. Not that there was much to look at between the plain off-white walls and the worn grey carpet. The room was completely bare apart from the table she and the young guard were sitting at. She wondered what it was usually used for. A quiet office? An interrogation room? A holding cell? Or maybe it was reserved for just this — when an inmate wanted a quiet word with a guard.
Whatever it was used for, the room seemed designed to provide as little distraction as possible. But that was good, wasn’t it? No more delays. That was what she’d agreed with Billie. She would ask her questions now, and then it would be done. The chips would fall and if she got in trouble she could start picking up the pieces.
“Madeline?” Marcus prompted. “You really can ask me anything, you know. It might be hard to believe, but I promise that you can trust me.”
She finally let herself look at him, but her lips remained firmly sealed.
“Besides, I’d have thought you were keen to get this over with so you could go and have dinner.” He grinned at her, tilting his head to look out at her under raised eyebrows. “You’re normally very keen to eat.”
Though she couldn’t bring herself to laugh at his joke, it was reassuring how hard he was trying to be nice. She really wanted to believe that it couldn’t all be an act.
She nodded to herself, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It’s just like I said earlier, I really don’t want to give you the wrong idea or get you in trouble or get me in trouble.” Shifting slightly under his steady gaze, she looked down at her fingers fidgeting and twisting together on the table.
Until a hand slid across into her eye line.
She froze.
Marcus froze too, his hand millimetres from her own. Then, it slid forward again and closed over hers. Though she tensed, she didn’t flinch or pull back. She slowly looked up and met his wide, kind eyes. “I… I was wondering if… I wanted to ask you about…” She closed her eyes and forced the words out. “Has anyone ever tried to escape from here before? And if so, what happened?”
The hand on hers twitched slightly but remained where it was. Surely that was a good sign?
She opened her eyes to see Marcus’s gaze fixed on her, his expression frustratingly neutral.
“Yes,” he said levelly. “People have tried to escape before. Of course they have. People value their freedom.”
“And?”
“And some managed. Though some of those were caught again, and it didn’t end well for them.”
“And those that didn’t manage?”
“It didn’t end well for them either. They tend to make an example of anyone who tries it.” The hand on hers finally slid back, but he leaned in closer, face twisted by concern. “Why are you asking this?”
Finally, one of the answers she’d rehearsed! “Well, I was just wondering about Billie’s brother — and anyone else we might want to enquire about. If they’d escaped or tried to escape, would they still be in the system? And would you be able to tell us about it, even if it wasn’t good news?”
His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t call her out on what now seemed such an obvious lie. “They would still be in our system, yes. As for whether we would pass on the information as to what happened to them… That would depend on the good it could do.”
“Of course. I just know how much closure can help.”
“And that’s the only reason you’re asking?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
She nodded quickly. “Mmhhmm.”
“Because if there might be another reason, I would have to implore you in the strongest possible terms to reconsider whatever you might be planning. Because… Because like I said, it won’t end well.” He inched further towards her, leaning her across the table. “It won’t be by my hand, I can promise you that, but I can’t protect you from the others. And I really, really don’t want to see that happen to you, Madeline. I… I care about you.”
Madeline’s breath caught in her throat. For all Billie’s teasing, she hadn’t really, truly considered the possibility that they might be right. She’d never exactly been popular with boys, particularly with boys like Marcus — a fact that had never really bothered her. And what could she possibly have done to warrant his interest in her baggy shapeless work clothes?
“You remind me so much of my sister,” he continued, glancing down at his hands on the table.
She let out the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.
“She’d have been about your age. She was shy at first too, but had an outrageous mouth on her once you got to know her. She was smart — always reading — and she was quiet and sweet… too sweet for this world.”
Now, it was Madeline’s turn to reach across the table, slipping her hand over his and squeezing gently. “Did you lose her?”
He shrugged. “I suppose I did in pretty much every sense of the word. Though perhaps I’ll never know for certain. So believe me when I say I know what you mean about the importance of closure.”
“What happened?”
Looking up to meet her gaze, he gave her a wan smile. “We’re not here to talk about me. We’re here to answer your questions.”
She smiled back. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But you’ve been such a help to me here. So if you ever want to talk about it, I’d love to listen.”
He was silent a while, expression glazed over as if his mind was elsewhere. Then, his eyes snapped back into focus as if a decision had been reached. “The short version is that we got separated, like so many people did in the early days. I spent a long time looking for her, and it led me here. I paid my dues and worked hard. When they told me she wasn’t in the system, I didn’t believe them. I figured if I became a guard I could check for myself and, well… it turned out they weren’t lying. Or if they were, they covered their tracks well.”
“I’m sorry that you couldn’t find her.”
“Me too.” Glancing back down, he placed his other hand over hers and squeezed slightly. “And I’d also be very sorry if anything happened to you. So please, Madeline, be careful. While I promise you can trust me, there’s not much I can do to help if you get in trouble. And I really couldn’t stand to see you get in trouble.”
“I promise that I’ll be careful,” she said. After all, it was technically true. And though she’d lied many times to survive in this world, it seemed wrong to repay Marcus’s honesty with her own dishonesty.
“And that includes not mentioning any of this to anyone else. If anyone asks, you were here to talk to me about Liam and ask about the arrangements for your family room, okay?”
“Okay. Actually, since you bring it up, are there any updates there?”
He snorted. “Trust me, as soon as there are any updates I will make sure you’re the first to know.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Madeline. You’re always welcome.” Pushing his chair back, he stood. “Now shall we get you back to the dormitory so you can get some dinner?”
She followed suit, chair scraping across the worn carpet. “That sounds good. And Marcus?”
“Hmmm?”
“I really do mean it. Thank you.”
On the walk back, Madeline felt lighter. She hadn’t exactly learned much, though she supposed she should take heart from the fact that some people had successfully escaped this place. But the thing putting a spring back into her step was the knowledge that she had a true friend on her side. And despite what Billie might say, she didn’t need to worry about giving him the wrong impression or any romantic overtures.
In fact, it turned out that Marcus was just like them. He’d come here in search of someone he’d loved and lost.
Madeline wondered how many of the other guards here had similar stories. She was sure that some were attracted to the role because of the power over others, but plenty of them seemed like nice enough human beings. When she’d first arrived, she hadn’t been able to fathom the sort of person who would willingly work for or with the Poiloogs — at least not one she’d like to meet. But perhaps the world was even less black and white than she’d thought.
She could even start to see a world where she’d be happy enough staying here.
Of course, she missed her freedom. Her books. Her library. But the work wasn’t too bad. She had food and a bed. She had Billie. And apparently, she had Marcus too. And soon, she’d have Liam. In a lot of ways, that was a better existence than the one she’d had just a year ago — free, but alone, surviving rather than living.
Author's Note: Next chapter due on 16th June

Madeline shuffled in her seat, eyes darting around the room, looking at anything and everything apart from Marcus as she tried to sift through her thoughts. Not that there was much to look at between the plain off-white walls and the worn grey carpet. The room was completely bare apart from the table she and the young guard were sitting at. She wondered what it was usually used for. A quiet office? An interrogation room? A holding cell? Or maybe it was reserved for just this — when an inmate wanted a quiet word with a guard.
Whatever it was used for, the room seemed designed to provide as little distraction as possible. But that was good, wasn’t it? No more delays. That was what she’d agreed with Billie. She would ask her questions now, and then it would be done. The chips would fall and if she got in trouble she could start picking up the pieces.
“Madeline?” Marcus prompted. “You really can ask me anything, you know. It might be hard to believe, but I promise that you can trust me.”
She finally let herself look at him, but her lips remained firmly sealed.
“Besides, I’d have thought you were keen to get this over with so you could go and have dinner.” He grinned at her, tilting his head to look out at her under raised eyebrows. “You’re normally very keen to eat.”
Though she couldn’t bring herself to laugh at his joke, it was reassuring how hard he was trying to be nice. She really wanted to believe that it couldn’t all be an act.
She nodded to herself, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It’s just like I said earlier, I really don’t want to give you the wrong idea or get you in trouble or get me in trouble.” Shifting slightly under his steady gaze, she looked down at her fingers fidgeting and twisting together on the table.
Until a hand slid across into her eye line.
She froze.
Marcus froze too, his hand millimetres from her own. Then, it slid forward again and closed over hers. Though she tensed, she didn’t flinch or pull back. She slowly looked up and met his wide, kind eyes. “I… I was wondering if… I wanted to ask you about…” She closed her eyes and forced the words out. “Has anyone ever tried to escape from here before? And if so, what happened?”
The hand on hers twitched slightly but remained where it was. Surely that was a good sign?
She opened her eyes to see Marcus’s gaze fixed on her, his expression frustratingly neutral.
“Yes,” he said levelly. “People have tried to escape before. Of course they have. People value their freedom.”
“And?”
“And some managed. Though some of those were caught again, and it didn’t end well for them.”
“And those that didn’t manage?”
“It didn’t end well for them either. They tend to make an example of anyone who tries it.” The hand on hers finally slid back, but he leaned in closer, face twisted by concern. “Why are you asking this?”
Finally, one of the answers she’d rehearsed! “Well, I was just wondering about Billie’s brother — and anyone else we might want to enquire about. If they’d escaped or tried to escape, would they still be in the system? And would you be able to tell us about it, even if it wasn’t good news?”
His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t call her out on what now seemed such an obvious lie. “They would still be in our system, yes. As for whether we would pass on the information as to what happened to them… That would depend on the good it could do.”
“Of course. I just know how much closure can help.”
“And that’s the only reason you’re asking?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
She nodded quickly. “Mmhhmm.”
“Because if there might be another reason, I would have to implore you in the strongest possible terms to reconsider whatever you might be planning. Because… Because like I said, it won’t end well.” He inched further towards her, leaning her across the table. “It won’t be by my hand, I can promise you that, but I can’t protect you from the others. And I really, really don’t want to see that happen to you, Madeline. I… I care about you.”
Madeline’s breath caught in her throat. For all Billie’s teasing, she hadn’t really, truly considered the possibility that they might be right. She’d never exactly been popular with boys, particularly with boys like Marcus — a fact that had never really bothered her. And what could she possibly have done to warrant his interest in her baggy shapeless work clothes?
“You remind me so much of my sister,” he continued, glancing down at his hands on the table.
She let out the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.
“She’d have been about your age. She was shy at first too, but had an outrageous mouth on her once you got to know her. She was smart — always reading — and she was quiet and sweet… too sweet for this world.”
Now, it was Madeline’s turn to reach across the table, slipping her hand over his and squeezing gently. “Did you lose her?”
He shrugged. “I suppose I did in pretty much every sense of the word. Though perhaps I’ll never know for certain. So believe me when I say I know what you mean about the importance of closure.”
“What happened?”
Looking up to meet her gaze, he gave her a wan smile. “We’re not here to talk about me. We’re here to answer your questions.”
She smiled back. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But you’ve been such a help to me here. So if you ever want to talk about it, I’d love to listen.”
He was silent a while, expression glazed over as if his mind was elsewhere. Then, his eyes snapped back into focus as if a decision had been reached. “The short version is that we got separated, like so many people did in the early days. I spent a long time looking for her, and it led me here. I paid my dues and worked hard. When they told me she wasn’t in the system, I didn’t believe them. I figured if I became a guard I could check for myself and, well… it turned out they weren’t lying. Or if they were, they covered their tracks well.”
“I’m sorry that you couldn’t find her.”
“Me too.” Glancing back down, he placed his other hand over hers and squeezed slightly. “And I’d also be very sorry if anything happened to you. So please, Madeline, be careful. While I promise you can trust me, there’s not much I can do to help if you get in trouble. And I really couldn’t stand to see you get in trouble.”
“I promise that I’ll be careful,” she said. After all, it was technically true. And though she’d lied many times to survive in this world, it seemed wrong to repay Marcus’s honesty with her own dishonesty.
“And that includes not mentioning any of this to anyone else. If anyone asks, you were here to talk to me about Liam and ask about the arrangements for your family room, okay?”
“Okay. Actually, since you bring it up, are there any updates there?”
He snorted. “Trust me, as soon as there are any updates I will make sure you’re the first to know.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Madeline. You’re always welcome.” Pushing his chair back, he stood. “Now shall we get you back to the dormitory so you can get some dinner?”
She followed suit, chair scraping across the worn carpet. “That sounds good. And Marcus?”
“Hmmm?”
“I really do mean it. Thank you.”
On the walk back, Madeline felt lighter. She hadn’t exactly learned much, though she supposed she should take heart from the fact that some people had successfully escaped this place. But the thing putting a spring back into her step was the knowledge that she had a true friend on her side. And despite what Billie might say, she didn’t need to worry about giving him the wrong impression or any romantic overtures.
In fact, it turned out that Marcus was just like them. He’d come here in search of someone he’d loved and lost.
Madeline wondered how many of the other guards here had similar stories. She was sure that some were attracted to the role because of the power over others, but plenty of them seemed like nice enough human beings. When she’d first arrived, she hadn’t been able to fathom the sort of person who would willingly work for or with the Poiloogs — at least not one she’d like to meet. But perhaps the world was even less black and white than she’d thought.
She could even start to see a world where she’d be happy enough staying here.
Of course, she missed her freedom. Her books. Her library. But the work wasn’t too bad. She had food and a bed. She had Billie. And apparently, she had Marcus too. And soon, she’d have Liam. In a lot of ways, that was a better existence than the one she’d had just a year ago — free, but alone, surviving rather than living.

My in-laws don’t believe in illness
Am I crazy for not wanting my in-laws near my new born ?
Buckle in because this might be kind of long, I want to give as much context as possible. I (23F) grew up as second oldest (oldest girl) in a family with 6 kids. I was 14 when my youngest brother was born, so I grew up helping take care of the kids and being very involved. I was taught to always wash your hands before holding or touching someone’s baby. Honestly even if you didn’t plan on holding the baby, if you walked into a house with a new born… you washed your hands. While holding/touching the baby you NEVER touch their face, hands, or feet (because they put in their feet and hands in their mouth) and you most definitely never kiss a baby that isn’t yours. This was strictly enforced and I really never thought much of it because that all makes sense to me.
We also didn’t go to someone’s house/ have people over if someone in our house was sick. I do remember missing out on a family Christmas party when I was young due to me being sick, but it was how it was. That was normal.
So fast forward to a couple years ago my husband I welcomed our daughter into the world. I definitely had a lot of anxiety around her getting sick, but no more than what I feel like other new moms go through. When my family/friends came to visit they would always wash their hands. While my mom was there she was on top of it making sure all my younger siblings washed their hands/followed the other rules and I really appreciated it. When we had my in-laws over for the first time… no one even made a move to wash their hands. I kind of awkwardly reminded everyone before they held the baby but they all were touching her hands and feet and smooching her face.
I was genuinely horrified, but didn’t say anything. After they left I brought it up to my husband and asked why they didn’t follow my rules. My husband was genuinely confused and said he had never heard of the hands and feet thing and that wasn’t something he was ever taught growing up. He comes from a family of four kids with them all close in age so he doesn’t have any memories of his siblings as babies or anything. I explained why It was important to me and he completely understood.
So to save me some awkwardness we decided that I was in charge of enforcing any boundaries with my family and he with his. It went okay for a couple weeks but I started having to remind my husband to remind his family. As my daughter got a little older it became less of a big deal and it was fine. THEN we ran into a new set of issues.
When my daughter was about 6months old my husband’s grandmother hosted a family bbq because one of the cousins had just had a baby 2 weeks ago and everyone wanted to meet him. The days leading up to it my daughter and I both came down with a cold. The day of my husband came in and was like “okay when do you want to leave” I was confused and explained that we couldn’t go because our daughter and I were sick. ESPECIALLY because there was going to be a newborn at the party. If I was that baby’s mother and someone showed up sick to a party with my newborn I would literally throw hands. My husband was so confused by this and said that his family would be upset if we didn’t show. I told him to just explain that we were sick and they would understand. He explained that they wouldn’t and that they would be upset. I told him that besides not wanting to spread our cold, our daughter didn’t feel good. The last thing I wanted was to have her passed around to 20 plus people. He eventually agreed and went to the bbq by himself.
Low and behold he was right and the family was offended that I didn’t show up. I was annoyed but we moved past it. Over the years there have been a couple of instances but nothing too bad until this past Mother’s Day.
Currently my daughter is 3 and I am pregnant with our second. Now during my pregnancies I get what’s called HG or Hypermesis Gravardium. It’s a pregnancy condition that causes EXTREME vomiting to the point of weight loss and dehydration. Often resulting in trips to the hospital for fluids and IV treatments. In my case I throw up about 8-12 times a day till about 20 weeks and it lessens to about 4-6 times a day until the day I give birth. Honestly? I barely feel like a person during this.
So on Mother’s Day we show up to my in laws house where my husbands younger brother and his girlfriend also live along with their 2 and 1 yr old boys. We walk outside and both of my nephews have crusty boogers all over their nose and crusty red eyes. I immediately got stressed. I’m already sick all the time I can’t add to it. Plus I can barely take care of my daughter during the day let alone if she were to get sick. I sat away from them and just didn’t say anything. While we were sitting there they start talking about how they have all been sick all week and now FIL wasn’t feeling good so he was inside laying down. I was fuming that they couldn’t have just let us know before hand. I would have chosen not to come and just facetimed MIL instead. I didn’t say anything to my husband though because I didn’t want him to feel like I was attacking his family.
Well we got home and by Monday night we were all sick. My daughter ended up not getting to bad and was okay after a couple days. I however, would cough and it trigger coming. I would sneeze and it would trigger vomiting. This lasted two fucking weeks. My husband ended up mentioning it to his brother and he just said “oh shit haha guess we got everyone sick” I lost it. I had a full pregnant woman sobbing meltdown about how I felt no respect from his family and I think I hurt my husbands feelings. My baby is due in October and my anxiety about him being around my husbands family for the holidays has me in a chokehold. It’s RSV season and I’m going to be begging everyone to wash their hands. Are they going to show up to family parties with sick kids? How do I get the message across without offending them? Or are these Boundries over top and my mom was just way too scared of illness. I’m at a point of telling my husband I don’t want his family near my baby while he is little, even though I know that’s not fair.

So my (30F) birthday is coming up. My husband (31M) is hosting a little get-together to surprise me (I found out, we’ll get into why). I’m very reserved as I didn’t grow up in the most conventional way and don’t trust a whole lot of people so my husband is just inviting those that have been consistently in my life and supported me. So my siblings, their spouses/kids, his siblings, their spouses/kids, a few friends, and his parents (I joke I’ve adopted them and even if we ever separated, I get them in the divorce, he’s fine with it 😂)
My sister reached out to my husband to convince him to invite my parents (60M, 55F). I don’t have a good relationship with them, honestly there not much of a relationship at all. I only hear from them when family has passed, birthdays, or anniversaries (usually just a quick phone call). When they do come to my state to visit, they expect me to drop everything to come to them, they have maybe been at my house 2 times since I’ve lived here for 3 years, just for 30 minutes each time.
Also, the last two birthdays I’ve had, my dad made plans to take me out for dinner or hangout, and then just never showed up. Which is a trigger since he did that a lot growing up. We’d have to “wait for dad to cut the cake and open presents” only for him to not show up at all, super embarrassing as a kid with all your friends over to celebrate. Even though I try to not let it get to me, it’s still disappointing at 30. They don’t try to have a relationship with me, but tell my entire family I ignore their calls and text. My siblings know that’s BS because I’ve shown them the proof but the rest of the family believes it.
So basically my husband said no, he would not be inviting them. My sister hasn’t let up though so he spilled the beans about the get together and flat out asked me if I wanted them there….my first reaction….no. Any opportunity to spend time with me “one-on-one” they refuse but because everyone else will be there, now they want to spend time with me? And with my dads drinking problem, small get togethers turn into family fights, I don’t want my in-laws to experience that. As a child, I didn’t feel like they wanted me around and I grew up with a lot of self hate, thought there was something wrong with me, and it’s taken a lot of time/years to heal from that. So….AITA?
Side note: my parents have had a tumultuous relationship my whole life. My first memory is of them fighting. There’s always been a cycle of dad cheats, mom stays...just for the cycle to start over. Many times us kids were caught in the middle of it, my sister probably the most. The most recent event being last week. My dad told my mom for the 100th time he’s in love with some girl at work who’s half his age. (He’s your typical 60yo white man who hooks up with women who barely speak English and then vote for some like Tonald Drump to “save America from foreigners”, it’s gross and I feel for those girls who fall for his sh*t) He even had the nerve to say it ok for him, the guy, to cheat but it’s “gross” if my mom did and he’d never forgive her because how dare a woman cheat.
When I have confronted them in the past about how I feel, I’m told I’m an adult now and what happened when I was child shouldn’t matter anymore. How my dad treats my mom is “non of my business”.

I've been reading through many of the posts, and watched quite a few informational videos on YouTube. Looking for my first pair of duals. Main purpose will be for home defense / family protection. We live in a rural area, with not too much light pollution, plenty of trees all around us. There is a small city within 10 minutes. I'm considering one set to start, but would like it to be better than Jerry 31s for low light, but it doesn't need to be PVS 31s or top notch L3 Harris Filmless. Looking for something in stock, and I came across this, https://aeontacnightvision.com/products/bnvd-1431-mk2-gen-3-aviation-tube-10160c . What do you all think, any concerns with them being aviation tubes, it sounds like they are less prone to having blems, spots, and halos? My budget is anywhere from $5000 to $8,000 for JUST the nods, excluding helmets/mounts, etc. Feel free to link or suggest alternative options as you see fit. I don't want to spend too much money because I am considering a second purchase of another set. I also forgot to mention, there will be some occasional star gazing with the Mrs. Thanks everyone!

Throwaway account because she uses reddit and knows my account
TL;DR, or if you don't care for the long background: my (incredible) gf has a guy friend who "doesn't like third wheeling". I know she has no feelings for him, but the other way around is in the back of my mind because he seems to avoid me at every turn and we have barely even spoke. Would that feel off to you?
Hi Reddit, I (M23) have been in an online relationship for 2 years, just recently flew out to see her (F21), twas magical. First, I feel alot of optimism from that trip, and she's the most incredible person ever, I'm so lucky to have her. Amazing listener, very compassionate and understanding, been there for me in some really hard times, exactly my type (physically and emotionally), knows me better than I do, really fun and funny and sweet... it is going pretty well.
Coincidentally we both had VR Quest headsets and VRChat so we sometimes use it to cope with the long distance. She's got a few friends from VRChat but nowadays just the one, her guy friend (of 1.5 years). I really trust her and I'm not really insecure about anything between them, or at least on her end I guess. I know she would never ever do anything and I know she has absolutely no feelings for him. We have had those talks.
Now, I really don't know much about this guy to provide much context. In the distant past me and this guy (and usually her) have played some games together, and we had awkward-ish fun. He has also told her that he "approves" of us, and I know he likes me enough to not talk shit or start the drama he often starts with other people. My gf does come to me to vent about him being quite toxic (and how it is affecting her quite negatively), so she hasn't exactly painted a pretty picture, but I did encourage her to communicate with him and set some boundaries, so things are getting better there, and they do have fun 90% of the time.
So yeah, this guy is a bit of a red flag to me already, but all in all I trust my gf tenfold and I trust her to take care of herself and maintain the boundaries. What feels off to me is it being "one or the other" nowadays. She can either spend time with him or me, which she only says is because he doesn't like third wheeling. I understand that completely, as I do not enjoy being third wheeled myself. But sometimes it feels like more than that, like he avoids me, or she keeps him away knowing he wouldn't want me around. To be fair, I haven't made that much of an effort to get to know him or spend time, but the few times I did suggest I could join them or we could play a game together, it has been shut down because, again, he doesn't like third wheeling. Sometimes I join my gf in VR a little later on, and he happened to be there, but immediately leaves when I join. If he REALLY doesn't like third wheeling, or even doesn't like me much, that's totally fine and I respect it. I definitely got on peoples nerves in the past. Plus, truthfully, I don't have much desire to really get to know him, mostly because of the picture she's painted of him...
Again I know she has no feelings for him at all, but I don't know anything about him other than the usually bad things she tells me about him, plus with the last paragraph, it is in the back of my mind that maybe he is jealous of me or something. Because if that's the case, this friendship between them is just not ok with me. To be clear, if he does have feelings for her, I really don't think she knows, because I believe that she would tell me immediately, knowing that's not ok.
man, obviously the answer is yes this is weird, right? How do we have this conversation? because again i dont think shes ever considered the idea that he might have feelings, because she does not

MAIORES. IV, CAL. IUNI. FORTUNA PRIMIGENIA.

This subject follows along from the general conclusion of infantilism, i.e. if we agree that infantilism exists in a culture that therefore all aspects of (such a culture) must be examined as to how they are impacted ‘by’ that infantilism, as: infantilism constitutes an undeveloped form of a thing; here (without covering absolutely every single aspect of it, as this could be a book in and of itself) we explore ‘sexual immaturity’ and its promulgation and consequences (of which we could easily make the case of the consequences as to be the cause of ‘all social ill’).
In an anthropological view; as if like we are looking at a chimpanzee colony, both procreation and familial-tribal child-raising takes place in our contemporary Western societies in a very clumsy sort of way; with the latter (i.e. the actual raising of children) not occurring at all, with the consequence of ‘arrested development’ – usually we would recognize and name it as that, if we ever thought very deeply about it:
However, the notion that all of this could be reduced to and fathomed as ‘sexual immaturity’ is an interesting (and unexplored) avenue to approach these matters from; certainly the act of actual procreation is deliberately accidental (I mean here in the contemporary West) in that a Woman does “not seek a mate” and then become pregnant, i.e. she does not even consider the sexual act to be procreative, rather: she accidentally becomes pregnant (“it was a miracle”), having beforehand and all throughout the duration and beyond it a culture which is far detached from the physical reality of things and thus a new human is created with no forethought for its care or provision and no security net in place to provide for it and ensure its prosperity and intelligent up-bringing, and increasingly there are fewer and fewer intelligent older persons around who are capable of providing the education and care for that child as would naturally exist in the large familial-tribal unit of an extended family where, historically, we all came from and of which is still the norm across much of the world (i.e. village elders who would otherwise raise the children up to be intelligent even if the Mother herself is too young to be a real parent - if we imagine as the species norm would be that most Women historically had their first child at around the age of fourteen or fifteen). Without, then, that familial-tribal unit to instruct and care for the child’s intellectual development and without either land to make a living from to provide for it's economic development then we find a cursed life, that is: a life far more difficult than it otherwise ought be had it been born in a more wisely chosen environment.
My point here is that ‘procreation’ is considered almost never at all by our society as being the most basic step in the creation and promulgation ‘of’ a tribal unit; with procreation itself being left down to blind chance and more often either legitimately accidentally or feigned accidently so as to attempt to cement a relationship (see: divorce and break-up rates in the West), either way this is the material circumstance into which children are born.
To say, then, that not grasping this reality ‘is’ itself a product of sexual immaturity; i.e. a Woman who does not understand what a new human is, seems to me to be far more of an accurate view of the thing than to declare it as ‘sexual immorality’ as it is usually insisted by the Abramic types, as: rather obviously it is ‘Sexual Immaturity’ rather than ‘Sexual Immorality’ that is the really cause of (the above scenario), that is: it is not Men and Women knowing too much about sex but of Men and Women knowing virtually nothing at all and therefore absent of a practice and familiarity necessary for Sexual Maturity, with Sexual Maturity itself being the very thing declared to be Immorality - an irreconcilable paradox.
It seems to me, then, that the habits we observe of ‘accidental pregnancy’ are the natural occurrence in such an unnatural society; that is: a consequence of misplaced moralism over the vital mechanical sexual functions of the human body (a thing which may well dominate and drive our unconsciousness entirely) have been rendered so alien to our expression and consideration but of which are so incessant and irrepressible; that sexual release is habitually denied, I mean here societally (i.e. “it is not polite”), and only finds ‘permission’ to appear in extreme drunkenness in fits of frenzy, and so on, so that when procreation actually occurs it is sporadic and neither at that moment nor before it was the adult rational mind involved – again, this is plainly a consequence of ‘sexual immaturity’ ‘before’ it could ever be said to be a consequence of ‘sexual immorality’.
It’s worth considering, of our own society in contemporary times, how far removed we are from most of the world which practices arrange marriages in one form or another (i.e. whether we are speaking of large tribal units or smaller family units) and what the consequence of this is on our own communities being absent of that; that is: the most fertile years of our lives are not spent having gotten procreation out of the way by having five or six children by the age of twenty or nineteen (so that when the child is fifteen you might be thirty, which seems to be the age where the sexual drive begins to dissipate or has anyway lost its novelty), and instead (i.e. without of being match-made far earlier in life) procreation instead occurs – if it does at all – accidentally and well-past the most fertile and healthy years, with such children being often quite sickly and the strain on the body being significantly more risky to the Mother (haphazardly enabled only then by massive external resources which would not have been required at all beforehand). I do not mean to seem as if I am advocating “having five or six children by the age of twenty or nineteen” only that in our natural environment this has always been the way of the thing due to natural sexual exploration when we are at that age.
At the same time, at the beginning and at the end of this “waste of time” (as I would say) of those most fertile years in which our sexuality is forbidden to us; that culture which we examine here as being simply Sexual Immaturity, it has been the case that that “Immaturity” persists well into later life by those afflicted adults who were forbidden to practise their natural sexuality when they were at the age where they wanted to, that is that the culture and mentality of such persons subjected to such restrictions quite demonstrably can be shown to have regressed them to the point that, as then as adults, they dress as children, speak and think as children, shun adult responsibility and seem altogether to have matured intellectually no further than the age of twelve or thirteen years, despite physiologically and neurologically having surpassed far beyond that early almost larval-like stage of our development where the body and mind are both only partially formed.
Instead it has been the “dragging-out” of that childlike insensibility, again: to no useful outcome, which has by that point in time essentially mitigated most of their procreative potentiality in that 1) physically having children is then far more difficult for them, and 2) they are now twenty-five years behind where their familial-tribal unit might otherwise have been, i.e. they do not have five or six twenty year old children bringing in incomes to the Household (to purchase a Household in the first place if they did not possess one before) or working the land (or likewise to purchase land) so that their prosperity will not have developed beyond mere subsistence off of the external labour market so as to escape the poverty and dependency traps inherent in the cities – which nominally constitutes their entire existence ‘to’ escape such miseries. All in all it is a lot of hard work by that point and I could not help but notice, of my own generation and those slightly older, how this outcome would have been entirely altered and set on a more prosperous trajectory if, say, at the age of sixteen a couple had been put together and had a few children, as: by the age of twenty the best seeds would have been sewn and they would not have to even think about “having children” ever again which is itself a thing, I observe anyway, that is so daunting and bothersome later in life that it really is something better gotten out of the way as early as possible in the manner that we would have done quite naturally otherwise.
If the idea here is to build up that familial-tribal unit then this methodology serves the purpose in the most optimal manner; the adults are freed up and enjoy their liberties, the younger adults (i.e. the teenagers) are preoccupied quite happily fulfilling their single greatest biological urges to have sex as much as they like, and the population figures begin to climb up at a rate of replacement which is far superior, e.g. a thirty year old parent of a fifteen year old only has five years before that fifteen year becomes a physically matured adult ready to contribute to the unit, whereas by contrast a thirty year old parent of a five year old has a great longer time to wait for physical maturity so that the distance between the two age groups becomes fragile and thin the further it is stretched with a concurrent loss of replacement manpower by a space of ten additional years.
There is something to be said for the older more experienced Father, of course, I remember quite well that the children I grew up with whose Fathers were in their forties and fifties and whose Mothers were in their twenties or very early thirties were quite better-off in their disposition and intelligence (whilst those with older Mothers tended to be sickly in one way or another); simply put though I think it is more to do with the experience of age as the influencing factor than anything else and a functional familial-tribal unit would have this influence in far greater capacity.
If we add to this factor the notion of polygamy (something shunned as ‘pagan’ by the Abramic religions yet advocated for in their own holy books, indeed: it was the universal norm) then we find the whole circle being completed in that young teenagers do as they please with each other, becoming familiar with relationship and their sexuality, and then when they reach a more mature age they might marry each other or other people properly so as to begin families of their own; but that by that age they may well have produced several children already via multiple partners so that the actual ‘legitimate children’ (in the sense of inheriting land and titles) of a more formal marriage is superfluous to population replacement insofar as the tribe is concerned, as: they have already increased the headcount quite massively by comparison. It is worth mentioning here the legal problems of land inheritance and the seeming inability for people to ever work this all out amongst themselves as being one of the most desirable points of the introduction of some of the Abramic religions, when they first appeared, as rules were laid out of who could inherit (some rules more effective than others, some quite ruinous in fact) which provided a framework in perpetuity (but on the other hand, with all children being considered legitimate in some instances, i.e. the children of concubines, this produced the problem of “all children” being in competition for the single title or, in turn, a vast spread of land, i.e. a Kingdom, being broken apart “to make it all fair”: this did not differ in form from, say, Imperial China to the late Ottoman court whilst the European Monarchies to their credit, somewhat, temporarily solved the matter by the allocation of specific titles to be given to the first born, second born, third born, etc., and then bouncing back to the Monarch upon the death of that Duke to be allocated again – although some would say this is a feeble manner by which to govern large polities it differs not very much from the essential ‘oversight’ duties over local governments as practiced in the Roman Principate rather than direct-governorship over those provinces themselves).
The tribal influence in real terms upon children cannot be understated in its superior effects upon the character and long-term capacity of the children themselves (when compared to others); I have some experience in my own up-bringing with this and really the outcome (again: compared to the infantilism, i.e. arrested development, you will almost always find in the nuclear family type, which we might easily compare to factory farmed within four walls and a hen-pecking parental authority vs. free range) is a quite more matured and capable disposition (call it “street smarts” if you like; they follow what actually works rather than what is ‘pretended to them’ to work, which is typically nothing more than the parents own whimsical desires of the moment) amongst all the children when they are simply freed up from the poor influence of an unfit parent even without the good influence of a more fit parent of which, then, the fit parent itself could be determined to be largely superfluous, as: of their own accord they learn amongst themselves and become naturally fortified against being instructed into error by a witless or ill-inclined adult, whereas a child stuck under the thumb of a witless ‘parent’ has no means to disobey that witless parent without facing severe punishments and so there the child is sculpted into a helpless fool, later embittered in life and at the tender mercy of their peers, as: even as they might innately know-better (than to do the foolish thing their parent demands they do) they are forced nevertheless, either physically punished or emotionally coerced, into adopting the ‘silly walk’ and ‘dress’ of the witless parent, which is to say: they are forced into conforming toward the cultural idealism determined by the parent with no thought whatsoever for the practicalities of life, e.g. the matter of “how will my child earn a living” is addressed neither by parenting nor by schools thus begrudgingly selling themselves auction block of the labour market turns out to be the only method, whether they were deluded into thinking that their aspirations to be a professional athlete or an astronaut were entertained and encouraged for them at the expense of informing them about any other means of paying the rent or not.
I should say here that when I say “familial-tribal unit” I am broadly referring to any number of groupings, in whatsoever local forms they may take shape, but that the decisive factor, most chiefly, will be a large extended family network of which, if it ever needed to pool its resource together, would constitute a decent size force in land, resource production and manpower – but chiefly it is the possession of land which enables everything else:
More ideally, to my mind, it would resemble (or be very close in composition to) that Roman ‘Familia’ (the origin of the word ‘Family’ in our English) where a fairly large blood family of at least five generations inhabited in and around the same House or group of Houses (see: Palace, Villa and Manor Economy), with servants and adoptees and associates (business partners) likewise being considered as extended kin; altogether forming, as it were, a little nationality. In the sense of ‘Nationality’ it is, it ought be said, more a return to how we actually were prior to the ‘naming conventions’ of the 1700’s or so where the stupid surnames made up on the spot of many Europeans were forced into Law over what would have originally been clan and tribal identities and from which there came that fake sense of disparate ‘Nationality’ (i.e. cut off from tribe and forced into atomization; identity through a very small family unit alone) from which the misnomer of ‘Race’ would be made-up to lend credibility to. In many ways a great deal of the urbane ‘neurosis’, let’s call it, stems really from this absence of ‘true tribe’ with it having been eradicated either by the fecklessness of urban societies; societies of strangers and thieves, and also more directly via those religions which pretend to fill the void of ‘true tribe’ with their witless rituals and effete pretences – things which are a wet-blanket over true fellowship wrought in such a manner as comes in all reality perfectly naturally the moment the screws holding foolishness in place are undone and cast away – and really here, when we stack these observations together one upon the other, we are really speaking of a sound and strong society certainly immune to the shallow perversity created by denialism toward the basic mechanics of the human body – in addition to any other considerations which follow from that.

THE OVERALL INFLUENCE (OR LACK THEREOF) OF A TRIBAL-FAMILIAL UNIT

It must be considered quite seriously by the reader as to the overall influence, or lack thereof, of a tribal-familial unit as to what fills its place in the education of people otherwise and, as I began this text by considering for myself, how much of the ‘dysfunctionality’ can be attributed to the “lack thereof”.
Along with the cultural instance on sexual immaturity as to produce the consequence of delaying and drawing out for decades a fetish of normal sexuality which ought naturally be done with by a person after reaching the age, say, of maybe seventeen, there is the greater point which I am trying to relay here in this text of how many other aspects of ‘bad culture’ are singularly anchored to and thusly totally dependent upon that sexual immaturity – that is: we would be hard-pressed to imagine how really many of the pernicious scenarios in our contemporary society would even arise if that foundation stone of ‘sexual immaturity’ were removed from the equation:
For instance, how much of a ‘relationship’ is spent and sculpted (either by the Man or the Woman or both) on jealously and worry of the other ending the relationship for having found another person or another means to fulfil their sexual gratification? If a ‘relationship’ is based upon, let’s call this, “mutual masturbation” then at the heart of that is sexual immaturity of the mental age of maybe fourteen years whereupon a person has been sort of coaxed into dependency for orgasm on a third party; they are fraught and fearful that this should be taken away from them – it being so vital as like a mechanical necessity for either sex – that the entire content of their ‘relationship’ revolves around it; seeking it, coaxing it, demanding it, guarding it from be lost, and so on, of which I think it is not exaggeration to say that such concerns constitute 100% of the verbal interaction in such a ‘couple’; either outright or in the back of the mind so as to reinterpret all scenarios and verbal expressions as being related to that end-goal of maintaining the “mutual masturbation”.
Simply put this ‘relationship’, then, revolves around twenty minutes of sexual activity in a day – if that much (or even if every day), yet dominates the entirety of the mind; that is: the entirety of the ‘relationship’, when this action itself is something that a servant or a slave or a prostitute would be used for in many societies, with the ‘content’ of the marriage, say, being concerned more with running the business of a Household or concerned with procreation to produce legitimate children to inherit the business, the title, the land, whatever. My point here is that neither Man nor Woman are elevated or their dignity improved, somehow, by this absence of sexual maturity but rather that both are reduced; i.e. greatly lowered, to the cognitive and social standing of the “servant, slave, prostitute,” in that as far as they think of and conceptualize themselves as part of a Household at all it is singularly the concern with simple sexual acts which dominate their interpersonal interactions and their ideas about their own self; it is their ‘social currency’.
If this seems alien – I mean my observation on this – consider how much neurosis goes on in the daily grooming rituals of Women or those sad excuses for Men who “lift weights but cannot fight” (not to mention the ease at which a thin muscular physique bleeds out at the slightest of puncture wounds, see: Roman Gladiator training), i.e. whose only concern is that of admiring their own bodies in a mirror, this being intellectually identical to young Women. Is this not the mentally of a slave? If so, even if we shy away from saying it plainly, then we must ask “what forms the mentality of a slave (i.e. where does it come from)” – in the above equation a slave in a Household is more like an object fulfilling a function than He or She is a person with any autonomy (well, obviously there is no autonomy for a slave) so it is almost to be expected that in such an environment that the intellectual trajectory of an object-person goes away from externalities and becomes entirely absorbed with self-presentation and equates their social status from that, and if groups of such persons will set this to be the common culture; deriving status in that manner among themselves – although still these are slaves possessing no ‘status’ to speak of, as being object-people. This is evidenced also in victims of sexual abuse or those, in general, suffering at the hands of third parties whose autonomy is in some way or another restricted; that their singular focus becomes that of sexuality as like depression is “rage turned inward”, thus too it seems for sexual infantilism.
I cannot pass up this subject without mentioning a series of interviews describing, a thing quite novel to me, the notion of American Christian ‘Purity Culture’ from the point of view of those heavily indoctrinated into that; instilled with Catholic levels of guilt over the normal function of the body, who have then left their small churches or megachurches, or whatever, and spoken plainly about the mentality of those inside of it as relating to sexuality. It is a thing I think long suspected but seldom expressed that, as it was described, the mentality of such persons is that they are “horny all the time” due to the relentless guilt inculcated into them; that due to denialism of sexuality their ordinary sexual impulses are magnified to an incredible degree and that, consequentially, their entire being is animated by repressed sexuality so that their thoughts are ‘impure’ all the time whilst verbally they express strong denialism and shame over the thing. I think this is no real difference to any such religious malinstruction; be it Muslim, Jewish or Christian, in that the perpetual infantilism of their surrounding society stems first of all from their own bedrock religious culture (i.e. whatever religion which is at odds with the human body, etc.) were due to such ‘culture’ they never really get over, say, an early adolescent view of sexuality where they are driven entirely by it and never learn to overcome it, no pun intended, but utterly unrealized – which would take them leaving their religion – is that this process demonstrably brings out the absolute worst in their character and disposition with the process itself being the promulgation ‘of’ those very “Viceful thoughts ” that they claim to be “at War with in the world”, in other words: it is just they themselves who, for example, look at a young teenage girl (or god help us, a small boy) and thinks all manner of sexual rapacity – and that this animates them politically to campaign for restrictive legislation to be put into Law to police “all society” as if “all society” existed at their low level is an incredible thing to consider. But I do not think their broader societies are any exception to this, rather point here is that their broader societies are comprised of persons exactly like them; that the Christian or the Jew driven by a lifetimes shaming over their normal sexuality adopt, in turn, the most depraved expressions ‘of’ sexuality as a self-affirmation; that is: the extreme self-identification with a simple sexual action, for example, came to literally define a persons personality in such places to the point that (Americans anyway) seriously put out the notion during the late 1990’s and 2000’s that a fleeting sexual act 1) defines a persons entire character, and 2) it is also inborn, e.g. as like to say that whether you prefer this or that on the menu at a restaurant is something determined genetically; this is utterly stupid and utterly, in my opinion, a consequence of society which has not wanted to evolve beyond the ‘sexual immaturity’ of which physiologically seems to occupy a very small window of the middle to late teens and of which repression during those ages quite demonstrably creates madness and retardation – I mean that if their culture did not peripherally do this to them then the manner by which swathes of their cultural-historical institutions do this to them ‘outright’ by inculcation into this process in particular certainly does it to them, and merely it is the unwillingness to fully condemn these Religions and relegate these influences to the dustbin which keeps the entire thing ticking along with “just enough” of the population bent out of shape by it to present those same persons, seemingly confused as to where they came from, lumbering through the broader society and serving as examples of lunacy and degeneracy.
In short - and I may as well add this here also, the aim to abstain for a while from sexuality was a custom introduced by the Ancient Romans and was designed to heighten sexual pleasure; in effect, then, foreign barbarians coming to this culture much later on with nobody to really explain it to them ended up unwittingly engaging in what they would probably have recognized as ‘sex magic’ whereupon the denial of their own mechanical sexual function was ‘abstained’ by them; i.e. they saw the value in holding off on doing drugs or having sex for a while, – but they did not understand what the effect or the outcome of that was ‘intended’ to be in that one would abstain specifically ‘to’ heighten the senses toward that pleasure; and this is evidenced chiefly in the Lunar Orgies and the Fast/s of Ceres. Interestingly, Jesus himself in (i think the Gospel of Thomas?) mentions to his followers that “they will hate him for what he says now,” and that he says that “fasting brings out all the worst in them” – in other words, engaging in periodic abstinence will turn them all horny. Knowing this from a relatively early age it was no surprise to me at all why celibate priests ended up diddling children or member of their own congregation or why the most outwardly pious zealots proved to be the most morally weak people to be found as even with the most ‘clean’ example, let’s say, of a person who has never drank wine, for example, they have not ‘overcome’ that thing but have rather avoided ever experiencing that thing so that it will always be a novel temptation to them of which they will have no understanding of and which they can be leveraged by in various ways primarily due to their ignorance of which ‘experience itself’ would otherwise render them far more fortified against:
A good example here is the ‘pot scare’ of the early 1930’s in America when it was seriously believed by a wholly ignorant chunk of the urbane voting public that smoking cannabis (and drinking alcohol, for that matter) would turn a person into a serial killer, this is totally bizarre to us now, but notice that this was the same society whose moral standard was that “a table leg” should not be uncovered because it reminded them of a Womans bare leg – although here we might better understand why they were so preoccupied by thoughts like that (I think very seriously in their heightened state of perpetual arousal any little thing would send them to buggery of a farmyard creature)! Hilarious. But – notice also that this was the same society which was engaging in some of the most casually egregious inhumane criminality that history had ever seen, as if they ‘were’ high on narcotics and their rational senses dulled; I do not mean here to bring American notions of ‘Race’ into this as to be seen to ‘condemn Black Slavery’ in the fashion of my own day (although we mentioned family-tribe as a better form of so-called nationality earlier) but the ghastly images of actual Country Fairs where smiling families with children by their knees would pose for crude photographs with the charcoaled or bloated rotting carcass of a burned or lynched Man is beyond my ability to play-down or normalize. I mean here to say, that: far from the pretense of ‘clean mindedness’ of such persons about themselves that we find these same persons are the filthiest and most depraved characters around, being those few persons who walk amongst us who are actually capable of doing those inhumane things (again, see: Banality of Evil) as would be unthinkable to a person of normal rational healthy conscience. We might connect this, also, to the historical BDSM extravaganzas which took place in the Christian monasteries and public squares for many centuries where young Women were sexually tortured by celibate clergymen as to recognize how deep and quick a plunge it is from a person or their culture going from the denial of normal healthy sexuality into the kettled and sadistic gore fetish of outright murder.
It is always worth reminding the reader who wishes to minimize these more egregious aspects of the subject (as rape is still rampant among the clergy); which are consequential of sexual immaturity, that it was not ‘reason and rationality’ per se that stamped this out from European society but soldiers kicking in the doors of such Churches, Town Halls and Houses with muskets, rifles, long knives and grape-shot and physically eradicating the perpetrators and their willing congregations from America and France for the practice itself of sexually torturing a Woman and then burning the evidence on the fake pretexts of obviously made-up accusations of “she turned me into a frog” to actually be ended. That is to say that the ‘mentality’ and ‘culture’ which provided the framework for such inhumane activities was never formally realized or educated-out of a people, so to find it lingers along into contemporary times; animating the otherwise dormant farmyard animal-like character of such persons “like powers of evil”, is not surprising to me in the least. What was more surprising to me is that as so much of these religions are so obviously outright ‘evil’ that more persons do not speak of the intricacies of the things in such necessary detail these more ‘egregious’ cases would qualify, and then to spool back to discover the cause of every evil action in the mentality of every perpetrator – generally speaking, for instance, it will be a character with a disposition of infantilism and perhaps this is more easy to understand without needing to connect it to sexual immaturity though, to my mind, these are not distinct enough to warrant any separation; as: infantilism is always going to be immaturity and immaturity is always going to run concurrent with a lack of adult intellectual development where a mature and experienced view of a thing, sexuality in this case, has likely been within the powers of a person to have gleaned naturally through experiences – in which case there would be no argument with anything I say here, or of which such experiences have been prevented by external powers from being gleaned by the person in question; in which case they remain ‘as if’ they were fourteen years old with the allure of mysterious unknown sex acts utterly dominating their consciousness at all times and yet physically being thirty, forty, fifty years old – well past the age (certainly physiologically) where they should have gotten it all out of their system but of which they have not, chiefly because their experiences have been rather dull and monotone and so much social currency has been valued by it ‘being’ dull and monotone, e.g. monogamy, legal repercussions binding two people in place, the atomized kettling nature of the disconnected nuclear family unit, living amongst strangers in large cities where it not so simple as just going topless to change the local culture, control through the selective denial of the sex act itself (as William Reich and Esther Vilar both write on), the sexualisation of young people by adults, the accidental ‘perversity’ (in the real meaning of the word) of unfulfilled (or poorly fulfilled, or repressed altogether) sexuality and its effects on the brain and society, and so on and so on.
I am always inclined to think when considering this subject, and I may as well end this text in conclusion with this recurrent thought of mine, that ‘sexual perversion’ really begins in the mind of ourselves as young teenagers when the normal human body is leeringly presented to us as being something ‘illicit’, e.g. the breasts of Women are concealed in our society and so due to ‘hiding them away’ they become objects of mystery and fetish which they otherwise are not. I do not think this is deliberate reverse psychology (as god help us few enough people even understand the concept to understand what they do inadvertently) but it produces the same consequence of reverse psychology, whereupon quite arbitrarily a certain piece of the body, say, an ankle, is all of a sudden declared by a mad Adult to be “evil, sinful, lustful, of the devil,” when no such notion existed in the minds of people otherwise, as then: their natural curiosity is piqued by this imposition and so they develop a perversion dervied in chief part – as a sense of lewd pleasure – from bucking the arbitrary nonsensical imposition forced upon them by that dictate of which such a scenario never would have had cause to occur if not for that imposition having created it. I feel that this ‘perversion’ (again, in the real meaning of that word) stands in the way of a fully realized and fully pursued sense of actual sexuality and, from it, of a more resonant concordance between Men and Women whose interactions are otherwise thrown off balance by such impositions as they are dragged back down to sexual immaturity all the time; or into fear and jealously etc., as like a dozen avenues are presented in any conversation and virtually of them are strewn with piss, vomit and polyfoam which had no reason to be put there in the first place, or more accurately: it was put there through the carelessness of an atomized and witless peoples who knew no better than to do this to themselves but of which a familial-tribal unit would have drummed out of them quick sharp if for the actuality of nothing else than “we are all in this together” being something that is tangibly true and not merely shallow political rhetoric when it is said of a tribe vs. when it is said of a state polity comprised of countless strangers.

MAIORES. IV, CAL. IUNI. FORTUNA PRIMIGENIA.

Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/iIGSXQv
https://imgur.com/a/CifQA1H
1. Magpul Pro offset irons
Installed on a build but never zeroed. $115
** 2. Dawson Precision DPP irons**
Used set of Dawson Leupold Delta Point Irons sights. Had these sights in a Glock 17 for a brief time. Recently took them off to put on a Glock 34 and the rear sight just slides around in the dovetail. So, long story short, new sights were ordered, and these are for sale. These sights do have some salt on them thanks to using the provided Dawson sight tool to install (not great on their part since it’s cheap metal and silver so you leave white marks on your new black sight). I’ve done a little on my part by using a sharpie to color in the discoloration but letting you know there are marks there. In the end, these are the tritium sights and they still work just fine. Based on the salt, looking to get $50 for them. Brand new they retail for $160
3. Wilder Tactical FDE inner and padded belt with attachments
Been collecting dust in the basement. Was used no more than 3 times and only for dry fire. Includes two single pistol pouches, one rifle pouch, and one handcuff pouch. $85
4. Magpul K2 grip
A little salty from use but still good. Includes screw. $12

Bonus points if you are familiar with the area. I have never been to either.
In 2.5 months my family (late 30s with a toddler and a 4 year old) is going on vacation for two weeks. We have everything planned except the last 3 nights.
First week is central Maine for a family reunion.
Then we have four nights arranged in Littleton, NH to explore the White Mountains, Franconia Notch et al. We will do a lot of hiking, checking out waterfalls, picnics, and playing in rivers, streams, water holes, etc.
My plan was then to spend 3 nights (an afternoon then 2 full days) in Portsmouth or Hampton Beach. We would spend some time at the beach as well as explore Portsmouth.
But last night we added up the costs and this trip is already around $5k (rental car companies can 🤬). We realized that if we extend our stay in Littleton, we will save around $600. Also, instead of spending half a day packing everything, driving two hours, then setting up in a new place, we would just get to really settle in and explore the mountains some more, maybe revisit a spot we really enjoyed, maybe drive to Santaland or Story Land, maybe spend a whole morning just relaxing and not doing much of anything. If you have ever had toddlers, you will understand how much work it is to move from one place to another on a vacation. We would be saving ourselves not only $600, but we would have an extra full morning before nap time to do something fun.
On the other hand, we would miss out on playing in the sand and splashing in the tide pools at the beach (we live in the Midwest, so we only get to see the ocean on vacations), watching our boy’s faces as they watch a bridge raise to let giant ships pass, exploring downtown Portsmouth and the Strawberry Banke museum.
Money isn’t a huge concern, we can afford it, but obviously their college fund is happier every time we save a bit of money.
What should we do?

Hello! I honestly debated posting a third attempt, as much of the second attempt's critique was stated as "personal opinion" or related to small words, but I'd still like to tidy it up & make it the best I can be. Please do not hold back with critique — I may ask some clarifying questions but will take it all seriously!
Past changes made (1st Attempt, 2nd Attempt): Clarifying MC's motive & reasoning, clarifying side character's importance (reducing unnecessary pronouns), cleaning up wording. In the second attempt, I tidied up a few words.
Thank you to everyone!
XXXXXXXXXXXX[ Query ]XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Dear [AGENT NAME],
Seventeen-year-old Andy Carroll is both a fight and flight risk. A myriad of failed foster placements have landed her in Banter, Minnesota, an eerie little town she intends to escape by nightfall. Her abusive foster father would be the perfect outlet for her anger, but she can’t bear to put her new foster siblings — tiny-yet-feral Lyla and vigilantly analytical Marcelo — in her fury’s crossfire, or worse, get attached. But when her escape fails, no amount of bloody-knuckled plans can save her from dying at her foster father’s hands.
She wakes in the sprawling forest, revived and unwounded — but Banter’s second chance comes at a cost. Not only is the town infested with spectral parasites, Andy’s death birthed a monster of her own. Nightingales tail each resurrected kid and keep them imprisoned within Banter’s borders, a purgatory Andy is dead set on escaping with the help of Marcelo and the rest of the town’s undead teens. Despite Marcelo’s frigidity, lies about his countless deaths, and Andy’s desperate attempts to stay distant, she finds her affection for him and the other kids growing as her stubborn investigations unearth decades-buried evidence about Banter and its monsters.
But old habits die hard, and Andy’s self-sufficiency traps her more than even her Nightingale. When a new foster placement threatens to rip away Lyla, the only kid left alive, Andy must bring the truth of her abuse — and her own fury-guarded fears — to light before her last chance at a family is buried for good.
KIDS DON’T DIE IN BANTER is a 79k YA Paranormal/Contemporary Fantasy novel that combines the lush yet decaying writing of Krystal Sutherland’s House of Hollow with the ghostly purgatory of C.L. Herman’s The Devouring Gray. It appeals to readers of aroace & queer-platonic love stories, and [agent personalization].
I’m a suburban Minnesotan. Like Andy, I’m autistic, aromantic, and asexual — call that triple-A! My time in DBT (Dialectical Behavior Therapy) helped guide the characters’ development with C-PTSD and other trauma, while the Nightingales were birthed from my undying dream to befriend a murder of crows (oh, and heal my inner child).
Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
First & Last Name
XXXXXXXXXXXX[ First 300 Words ]XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The only thing stopping Andy from throwing the world’s filthiest right hook is the plastic around her bloody knuckles.
The trash bag crinkles as her fist tightens. Concrete scuffs beneath her combat boots, summer heat bleeding through her jacket. It’s nowhere near as molten as the blood rushing past her ears, muffling her social worker’s new-house spiel and the faint whisper of pines.
“—and as I mentioned, she may need… special attention.”
Andy’s eyes narrow as the world comes back into focus — and right now, that world is confined to a stranger’s doorstep, Andy’s trash bag of clothes, and her social worker’s words floating in the humid slush of air. The feeling’s not unknown, far from it. Hell, it’s so familiar it might as well be family.
“I read her file. Flight risk?” remarks the man at the door. The garbage bag wails for mercy as Andy’s fingernails dig into it. Its pleas don’t escape the man’s notice, and with a smirk he adds, “Well. Fight risk, too, I suppose.”
Andy’s teeth carve into her tongue, fighting back a retort. Blood floods her mouth as she wrenches her gaze to the open door. Dusty floorboards. No toys from the other supposed kids. Metal pop-tabs glint beneath the fridge where they’ve been kicked. Not from a pop addiction, that’s for sure.
The man shifts to block her view, and Andy meets his eyes and lets her split lip curl. He doesn’t look anything like her blood father, a small mercy. Andy’s black, short-cropped hair hasn’t been trimmed for months, but it’s still tidier than the man’s stringy, red-tinged strands. They’re nearly eye-to-eye in height, and if Andy was feeling particularly wild, she could throw a fantastic punch into his snake-gray eyes.
I’d love to. But that’s not quite the plan.

My first and defining relationship was with an older woman when I was 21. She was 37. I was attracted to her boldness and it was exciting to be around her at first. She was a heroin addict, and one day she was in the bed nodding off and I said I have to go and I left. I had sort of decided to break it off with her . Then a note came in my mail box...a letter which said in ransom note cut out newspaper lettering...I will take you from rags right through to stitches. I got scared and wondered who it was.i called her up and asked her. She didn't confirm or deny and seemed amused. She then offered to share some heroin with me if I ever wanted some. Even though I was freaked out something drew me back and I called her. We shared the heroin. Over the next few weeks she displayed odd behaviours like kicking me in public, verbal put downs and flirting in front of me with other men. I was too inexperienced to walk away.i got sucked into it and the sex and intimacy made me fall in love. She became pregnant three months later. Because my father had killed himself when I was eight, I decided I needed to be a good father to my child so I embraced the idea. I was a talented songwriter and musician and as the relationship started so did my career in the town. During her pregnancy she had moments of violence, such as threatening me with a baseball bat,hitting me over the head with a phone and literally clinging onto me as I tried to leave and held on until I fell over exhausted. Despite these outbursts we also had moments of bliss preparing the house for the child. She had the child, a son and I embraced fatherhood. She was highly strung and jealous of my female friends, and by this point I had become addicted to painkillers after the heroin ran out. She could be calm and loving one moment and suddenly snap and become frightening and intimidating the next. Certain events like Christmas or Easter she would invariably snap and make a scene and I would cop the physical or verbal abuse. It was a strange time where we were raising a child and there were moments of bliss but also terror and confusion. Things went on like this for years until I finally had to get away. During this time she made it difficult to see my son. We got back together on and off but it would end when she would snap and I felt threatened. I made a final break after a bleeding stomach ulcer from my addiction to painkillers during which she kicked me while I lay on the floor for her to call and ambulance. I nearly died and was so scared I left town. During this time she made threats to harm our son and I was so worried. I didn't want to abandon my son but I had to be away from her. Eventually I went to rehab in another city and sorted out my issues properly. During this time she became a meth user and became neglectful and abusive to our son and psychotic and violent to her brother and others. My son came to visit me shortly after I completed the year long stint in rehab and my friends convinced me to keep him with me, despite me feeling powerless to do so. It was a hard few years but my son and I lived together and I was sober and healthy and while it wasn't perfect I'm proud I was able to give my son some refuge from her abuse and a good sober father figure in his early teen years. I went to court and obtained a parenting order.i took out DVO's against her to protect me and our son. He attended a wedding where she was there and despite me doing everything to ensure his protection and safety ( it was his half sisters wedding, my ex's daughter - he really wanted to go) she tried to grab him and ended up choking him with his tie and caused a huge scene at the wedding.i felt so guilty when I found out because I had let him down again. Unfortunately the parenting order stated he still see his mum, and she convinced him to stay with her one visit and there was nothing I could do. He was 16 by this point. I was devastated.But one year later he called me crying saying she had threatened him again. I decided to move back to hometown so he could live with me and finish school. It was a difficult time and I met a co worker who we became romantically involved, but she had alcohol issues and drank herself to death within two years of us falling in love. Meanwhile my son finished school and I see my ex now on the street and feel no more fear. This is enormous because for twenty years I was petrified of her. My son is now 21 and is in strife now ...he went to a party and hooked up with a girl , he thought it was consensual and it didn't go beyond kissing and light groping. The next day her friend convinced her it was sexual assault and the cops were called. My son is facing serious charges. This has been so devastating and stressful.he is handling it well enough but I'm concerned about the stress the prolonged trial will have on him. I am now 44 and feel like I've been robbed of the last twenty years, my prime years, by a woman who terrorized me and seriously abused our son. It still angers and enrages me , disappoints me, saddens me, I feel so guilty for what my poor son has been through. She is now an alcoholic and her health is severely affected. I no longer feel she is going to kill me one day which is what I thought for twenty years. She has mellowed in her age. But there is always that 'what if' in the back of my mind. I also feel robbed of a chance at my true calling which is music.i still achieved things but my time and energy was spent dancing around my son's mother's abusive behaviours. And living in response to them. I don't feel like I've ever been in control of my life. I realise now I can finally be free. I still worry about my son but I can't rescue him now he is an adult. This feels strange. It has been my main purpose for so long. And now I am just in disbelief at all the events of my life. And wondering where to go next , what to do. I'm absolutely terrified of women now. I'm so tuned in to noticing any red flags and any sign of one sends me into panic mode. I hope to have a normal life someday, a normal relationship, and some happiness. I still find it so hard to forgive his mother for what she did to our son. And I feel so much guilt for letting him down. Does anyone have any advice on processing all of these feelings and moving on from this sort of thing? Any resources or wisdom. Thanks for reading.

Competitive strongman is a sport where both static and cardio-vascular strength are important. Not only do strongmen have to be strong for movements like the squat and deadlift, but they have to be able to carry heavy, and often awkward, loads over a distance involving peak physical fitness.
Strongmen often carry a heavy bulk bodyweight; considerable excess bodyfat is not considered an advantage by many, though some do argue that heavy bodyweight can be an asset in some movements. Whilst a lean body-builder type physique is not the goal, the meal plan below is designed so as not to encourage too much excess body fat, though a 'bulky' look is acceptable.
Training for strongman will usually involve 3-4 weight training gym sessions per week, which can vary in length from quick intense sessions, to longer duration ones with large rest periods between sets. There will also be 2-3 event training sessions per fortnight which will involve the strongman practising events likely to be in a competition. In addition to this, periodically the trainer will also so some cardio-vascular fitness training.
A strongman should eat for strength and with this muscle size will come, so a meal plan is not too dissimilar to that of an off-season bodybuilder. The key to healthy quality muscle and weight gain is to eat big and eat consistently throughout the day following a structured meal plan.
Six or seven feeds all of large quantity are the norm, which will include plenty of high protein food choices, like lean meat, chicken, fish, eggs and milk; fibrous low glycaemic carbs like cereals, bread, pasta, rice and potatoes; fruit and vegetables (don't forget nuts and pulses are also good sources of protein); as well as sources of essential fats.
Meals should be spread regularly through the day, paying close attention to structure surrounding training sessions to provide fuel. Have low glycaemic carbs about 30 minutes before a workout, with a small amount of simple carbs right before and straight afterwards.
It may also be useful to have protein pre-, during and immediately post workout, both on gym and event training sessions. Protein and weight gain supplements can be useful aids to gaining size and strength, but not in place of good wholesome food.
Before a strongman competition up the portions of low glycaemic carbohydrate foods on the two days prior to help load the muscles; nutrition for an event should be similar to that of a training session.
The following is a sample meal plan for one day for a strongman of around 280lbs (128kg) body weight to help gain strength and improve fitness. On non-training days, the only difference should be to peri-workout nutrition.
Wake30g whey protein in water
BreakfastServing of James' Super Smoothie The JSS Bulker
2-4 slices granary bread toasted + 400g baked beans
Tea/coffee with skimmed milk
Mid-morningSandwiches: 4 slices granary bread + tuna / chicken / ham + salad
Large handful mixed nuts
Item fruit
Drink water
Lunch2 chicken breasts or 200g tuna (canned in water)
100g Basmati rice or wholewheat pasta
Tbsp sunflower seeds
Large mixed salad
Low fat yoghurt
Mid-afternoon4-6 oatcakes
250g cottage cheese / quark
Large handful mixed nuts
Large banana
Mug green tea
30 mins pre-workout4 squares Easy Flapjacks
Tbsp sunflower seeds
Drink water
Immediately pre-workout20g whey protein + 30g dextrose in water
TRAINduring workout sip 20g whey protein
Immediately post workout40g scoop whey protein + 30g dextrose + 30g maltodextrin in water
Evening meal
(60 mins later)250g lean red meat or 250g chicken / turkey or 300g white fish
100g basmati rice or 100g wholewheat pasta or 6-8 small boiled new potatoes or 1-2 large sweet potato (dry roasted)
Large serving of vegetables / salad
Low fat yoghurt
Mid-EveningLarge bowl high fibre cereal (like Weetabix, bran flakes, Shreddies, muesli, porridge, etc) + 200ml skimmed milk + 1 tsp sugar
200ml fresh fruit juice
Late snackServing of James' Super Smoothie The JSS Bulker
As with all the meal plans this is merely a guide and must not be stuck to rigidly! Ensure you eat a variety of different meats / fish / alternatives, complex carbohydrates, fruit and vegetables every day, and drink plenty of water. Adapt the plan to suit your own needs and lifestyle and adjust with progress.

My boyfriend (29M) and I (26F) have been together for 5 years. Now in the beginning, I couldn't keep his hands off of me. Our sex life was AMAZING. Then he cheated on me twice. We worked through it but I could tell something changed. Now he watches porn and I don't mind because I watch it too. So no biggie fr. But now it's like he can't get hard when it comes time to have sex. He thinks that I should "talk" and say a bunch of nasty stuff during sex to get him hard. I don't have a problem with that as long as I'm in the mood. Not just bent over with a limp **** rubbing up against me. I do it anyway because I EVENTUALLY want him to get hard. But then HE DOESNT. It's like he gets hard enough to go in but not hard enough to complete the task at hand. My main issue is the fact that he only gets hard when he's watching porn now. Let me just say, I am a tall plus size black woman. He watches porn involving petite white girls. I'm starting to feel like hes really not attracted to me and I'm starting to feel really insecure. If you can get hard watching them, what's wrong with me? I can't change my color, my height or my size (the medication I take keeps the weight on). The women he cheated with were white and I can't help but to think that he didn't have to watch porn for them. We just finished, well he did. And just as I'm getting into it, I see him move his phone to the side. I was immediately so embarrassed and insecure. Am I crazy to think that I'm not what he wants? If he like white girls, that's what he likes. But you can't expect me to stick around when in reality you don't like me fr. I looooved sex with him but now it just feels like a pity f***. Am I crazy?