Cute boyfriend girlfriend things

It’s been one year since my (partial) Disney Adventure with my boyfriend and I’m getting sad from the reminders lol! I want to go back! We did two days at Disney – Magic Kingdom and Hollywood Studios, with a day at Disney Springs. (Two days were at Universal Studios).
Day 1, Monday May 15
Magic Kingdom
Made it to the Magic Kingdom just before it opened. Started off with Jungle Cruise for our first ride, then Pirates of the Caribbean, Big Thunder Mountain, and Haunted Mansion. Didn't want to buy anything just yet but found some cool stuff to purchase later. Had some food (hotdogs and potato barrels aka tater tots lol) after Winnie the Pooh (which had a super long line) and Princess Carousel. Met Cinderella and another princess that I didn’t know. Did Buzz Lightyear, Carousel of Progress, and PeopleMover (that was broken down so we had to wait on that ride for a bit). Really cool when it was up and running and we saw the behind the scenes of Space Mountain (which was down for most of the day so we never rode). Hit up Mad Hatters Tea Party, Seven Dwarfs, Peter Pans Flight and It's a Small World, then Riverboat before dinner at Crystal Palace with the Winnie the Pooh gang. Did some shopping as we made our way to Main Street and got ready for fireworks. If I didn't take pictures, I never would have thought the day happened.
Day 2, Tuesday May 16
Hollywood Studios
Began the day with Mickey and Minnies Runaway Railway, which was fun then Tower of Terror. Never again. Scary galore lol. The guy beside me kept grabbing my leg until I showed him the handle lol. Then we went to Toy Story Land and did the Alien saucers and Toy Story Mania (forearms grew that day). Had lunch at Woody's Toybox and had a brisket grilled cheese, it was really good (and more potato barrels). Took in the Indiana stunt show and then went to Star Tours, MuppetVision before making our way to Star Wars land for the two rides there. If I was Star Wars fan, I'd have lost my mind. I was so impressed with the production value and the scenery. Really really great stuff, very super impressed. Had some drinks and eats at the Cantina and it was "authentic" stuff so it looked weird but tasted normal lol and closed out with Beauty and the Beast and then dinner at Mickey and Minnies restaurant and met all of them.
Day 3, Wednesday May 17
Went to Disney springs and bought some Lego sets (first ones ever, I got the Cinderella Castle lol) and had some chicken at the Guy Fieri quick service restaurant. Pretty chill day.
And that’s about it! I regret not buying the Anniversary LoungeFly backpack that I saw everywhere and kept saying I wanted it but my boyfriend said I didn’t need it (which is true) and that it doesn’t hold anything except a toothpick (which is kinda true). Bought a bunch of other cool things though so I guess it’s alright lol! Miss it a lot and can’t wait to go back (already abstractly planning things out). Thanks for reading!

I've been with my wife for about two and a half years. Before marriage, we discussed non-monogamy. It was often a subject on the table with non-romance, and with people in mind, it became a topic with romance, and it developed while going through our wedding. Shortly after our wedding, that quad situation crashed and burned, and wife closed off (she was always anti-social, so her closing off was even more extreme). She expressed a preference for monogamy, but it became kind of set in stone that her end goal was a monogamy that could co-exist with my polyamory.
A lot happened for that to crash and burn, but my interest in polyamory didn't die with that relationship. There was a period of about 9 months of emotional work of discussions restructuring the relationship and continual renegotiation and learning alongside each other before I felt comfortable that I could offer someone a partnership I could be content with. That work missed steps for sure, in retrospect, namely that it wasn't clear enough that our old relationship was killed and in the process of being rebuilt from the ground up. I think it felt that way to both of us, but there was a strong anchoring bias that is still present to some extent to this day from her.
The relationship I had to offer (that was agreed to be within bounds) threatened her in every way. She hated not being a part of it unlike the first one where she was, but that was part of the work. I think it came as a reality check to her that I was going to be autonomous from her. We were highly codependent, and in that process I had grieved it and cut away, but she hadn't yet. It came with many primal panics and she hated her meta at the time for it. We both knew it wasn't meta's fault. My relationship to that person fell apart for a separate reason, and it nearly took my relationship with my wife with it. It felt like divorce had finally entered the conversation as an option. She said she didn't view it as one, though, and I said she has to, because how else is she supposed to be able to consent or not consent to the relationship? She made me feel like I should trust that she is expressing her agency and is consenting in her full autonomy to everything we're ironing out in agreements together while also telling me that she strips away her last resort option and made me at times feel like I was simply subjecting her to a life she didn't want. I told her there are people who are just as emotionally competent, humerous, and whatever else as me, while also matching her hobbies more, who are monogamous, and I really needed to know she wasn't damning herself to me but rather that she was choosing me the same way I was choosing her. Choosing her has limited my polyamorous expression severely, and I've done it every day.
I began dating my current longest standing girlfriend in December. She initially doesn't like any new connections whatsoever, but tends to like them after putting a name and face together and having a meal or three with them. This girlfriend is largely very okay being secondary. We've ironed out our exact relationship agreements, know exactly how much we'll talk to each other and when we see each other, and I think wife benefits heavily from our consistency and has been proactively giving in her expressed comforts (such as nights that I wouldn't have spent with girlfriend out of an assumption it wouldn't be okay, but it was expressed as okay without my asking). I found myself in this relationship realizing that I wish I had a more solo polyamorous lifestyle, but I realize this after legal marriage, cohabitation, and financial enmeshment, and don't plan to do the life shattering necessary to disentangle all of that as of this moment, but it weighs on me that I have so much friction and feel a bit as though I need permission to sleep certain places or have someone sleep in my spaces. It makes sense given the current set-up, though. YEARNING!
There are so many actions that still cause so much insecurity to arise in my wife. Every action I take with another partner is measured within myself immediately on how it will affect her. Am I spending too much time away from her? Am I doing too much cool stuff without her? But then I try actively dating her and she doesn't show much enthusiasm for much other than default time together. We get a date or two a month maybe while I date my other partner once to twice weekly. I find myself falling in love with another person and being afraid because I know that'll only hurt my relationship with her. After two and a half years am I fooling myself? Is she fooling herself? Are we fooling each other? It's stupid because I'm in the middle of it, and so is she, and I'm pretty sure neither of us want to answer that question with all sincerity. There is also the potential that I'm just way too selfish and should be okay limiting my polyamory as much as I do or even more given my commitments to her. I've struggled with polyamorous guilt with her every time I want time away from her, but then we acknowledge that this much time away from her with friends would do a similar thing anyways?
The timeline: Non-monogamy talks mid 2021, marriage December 2021, first poly relationship beginning and end spring 2022, first autonomous polyamorous relationship began January 2023, ended summer 2023, began dating current partner who she's okay with December 2023, partnered temporary long distance with someone April 2024 and have had a majorly important person come back into my life in a will they won't they way this month that is bringing up a lot of insecurities as well
Thank you to anyone who reads this and puts in any emotional labor and literal time labor producing a response to my wordy ass (and this was me trying to be concise lmao)

I'm [38M] in another country for an educational program for about three weeks now, and I started dating one of my classmates [23]. She is from India and this is a religious educational program. She was raised into the religion that I converted to. There were religious pilgrimages involved as part of the program, etc. I wasn't much attracted to her at first and basically thought nothing of her for about a week. The first interesting thing she said was when we were out in the city with a few other people and I went to exchange some currency. She exclaims that it's a lot of money and I shush her with my finger to my mouth and she jokingly asks if I'm going to be getting prostitutes.
Then eventually I thought I got some pretty clear signs that she was interested in me, and I started to develop feelings for her. At a group dinner one night, she chose a seat next to me and spooned some ice cream into my mouth at one point. She mentions a restaurant she wants to go to, so I ask her out a couple days later to that restaurant and she brings a guy/girl somewhat-couple from our class along. While we're walking to dinner, she asks me if I'm married, and I explain that I'm a widower since about a year ago. At that dinner, she takes a couple fries individually from my plate and the other guy points this out and I just shrug it off. Generally, she gave some strong eye contact at times during this outing. I gave her some playful nudging with my elbow at some point, that's about as far as I went in terms of being flirty.
A few days later, I ask her out on a date explicitly, and she eagerly accepts and this time doesn't bring anyone else along. The dinner date goes well enough, although I don't touch her at all or make any moves. At the end, she offers to walk to a second location and buy some tea for us at a popular religious landmark. This part goes well also, and we have some stimulating conversation. Eventually, I say I'm ready to go to bed and we walk together through a large crowd for a bit until we reach the road where she's staying and I just say "goodbye" and keep walking through the crowd to where I'm staying. Shortly after I get to my room, I receive a text asking if I reached, and I make my response really short and tell her good night.
Here's the part that seems to be where I started fucking up. The next morning, I send her a somewhat long message saying that I had a good time and I don't want her to think I'm not interested in her because I really am. I explain to her that this was my first date in almost 12 years and my dating skills are really rusty and not what they used to be when I was in my 20s. I explain that I didn't try to kiss her, but I actually really want to. Then I proposed a second date of some expensive tour in the area since I'll only have one free day left in the country to do such a tour, and I'd enjoy her company.
She responds saying that she didn't realize that I actually meant "date" when I said "date" and only understood I was being serious after receiving this message. She said she never imagined herself going on a date, and especially not with me, because I'm older and wiser than her. She declined my offer and says that she will not continue this with me. I may have forgotten some exchanges in between, but I eventually said that I didn't understand how she could think I was joking about a date. I told her I'm 38 years old, I know what I want, and I don't play games. I told her that she broke my heart. I say that I won't lash out at her, but I wanted her to know this so that she can avoid breaking other guy's hearts in the future . We're eventually texting more, and she explains that she isn't ready for a relationship. She says she wants to settle her life, finish school, etc. before getting married and starting a family. (I never mentioned marriage and family.) She also says she's not into long distance, since we're both going back to our home countries next week. She doesn't say anything along the lines of not being interested in me or not having feelings for me. She seemed to imply that she never had a boyfriend and never even went on a date before, although she didn't answer directly when I asked if that was the case, since there were multiple questions in one message.
I try to explain to her that we don't need to be thinking about marriage and a family right now. She says she's not ready for the "big things" right now, so then I ask if it's a "big thing" to have a boyfriend. She says it is a big thing to have a boyfriend. She needs to have feelings for him and she can't just be in a relationship and leave the relationship the next week. I took this as a test to see how serious I am about her, but who knows.
Later she says she will see me the next day, but then she changed her mind the next morning and I haven't seen her outside of class since that only full one-on-one date we had a few days ago. We're now in a different part of the program where there's no more classes together. So, there's no real reason we'd ever see each other again unless we intentionally meet.
I ask her if she just doesn't have any feelings for me and she just repeats that she isn't interested in any relationships right now but doesn't actually answer my question. I responded with a crying emoji and got really grovelly and self-debasing toward her. Then I deleted those messages and just said "Ok 🙏" and she reacted with 🙏
At this point, I'm just leaving it and waiting to see if she reaches out to me again before I leave. But I'm really confused by this one, reddit. Any thoughts?

I feel like I should feel content with the current friends I have, however I'm just not happy and have been feeling lonely as of late.
Im a 18M college student who's had to transfer from living in a dorm at university back to community college where I'm taking online classes only. Because of this, I've lost IRL touch with most of my friends. I still call them & enjoy talking to them. However, it doesn't feel the same as talking to them in person & they are usually busy so I end up talking to them wayy later. At the moment, I have very few IRL friends from highschool that I've hanged out with (really enjoying those times), but they've also gotten MUCH MORE busier with life stuff such as work or school.
I've had this really special-to-me hangout with a long distance female friend. I offered if she wanted to go to a 4 day local event + a place to stay so she didn't have to drive back & forth from her home (4+ hours). We enjoyed the event & plan on going to more in the long future :) But what I really enjoyed the most was the down-time in between the days where we were chillin together. We played some video games together and I felt like I was truly bonding with her. Plus, we tucked ourselves in a blanket on a bed while comfortably watching some K drama shows. Really, just platonically chilling in bed as we try out watching different kdrama episodes. This is by far my most cherishable experience as I've never done anything like this (closest being watching shows with friends over discord). We just vibed super comfortably. And I MISS THAT so much. She probably didn't think much of it but I've never felt so relaxed as that in a long time. Shes not my girlfriend nor do I have a crush on her, just a great friend that I occassionally talk to when she's not busy (usually is). But I really want someone to do that with again, someone new that I can hang out IRL & have more availability. But I obviously can't ask for someone & have them magically appear. It just happens.
With how a lot of my friends have gotten busy / distance from me in combination of one of my most cherisable moment has gotten myself to HATE MYSELF as I feel much more lonely. So far, I've been using it as some motivational fuel to go to the gym, study harder, and work on myself but DAMN I just HATE THIS FEELING that comes and goes all the time. I just wonder if I can meet someone that I can vibe & telax with on a couch / bed to watch shows and enjoy it while making fun remarks or talking / whatever more often...
I've never ranted like this before & have kept these kinds of feelings in check on my own. I've gone to therapy once but realized that I'm still a sane & functioning person and don't need it compared to others who may need it more than me. I guess I'm just at that age where shitty feelings PEAK & my lid of SHITTY feelings slightly leak. Im not depressed & Im not desperate to get a girlfriend as I dont think I'm ready until I work on my life. I feel like I want to be more MATURE but am stuck feeling like a CHILD even though I am technically an adult. I feel undeserving & selfish for wanting what seems like so much more to myself (socially, economically, and everything else). But I just wonder when things will change & how long would I have to endure these lonely + confusing feelings?
I JUST DON'T know. But, I hope I can meet more new friends as I take more in person classes & show up to some clubs in the future (though talking to new people in clubs is kinda difficulty when they've felt kinda cliquey as people seem to already have their groups).
Thanks for reading my rant I guess 🥲 Maybe I'll feel better the next few upcoming days, weeks, or months... I'll try to keep myself distracted in the meantime!

An hour after getting back from the Mason apartment, Bruce Kenner had the distinct misfortune of meeting Bertha Henderson.
A plump, gaudy woman with wrinkles and sun beaten skin only an alligator could love, Bertha Henderson wore bright red lipstick, bright red rouge, and way too much mascara. Her tangled hair was a dull red color and her clothes - pink pants and a white floral top - stretched tight across her bulbous frame. She looked like the kind of woman who lived in a trailer with velvet pictures of Elvis on the wall and pink flamingos in the front yard.
She acted like one too.
From the moment she stormed into his office, she hadn’t shut up once. She scolded, chided, accused, and badgered, sometimes even wagging one fat finger in his face like he was a naughty little boy. Ten minutes into the dressing down and Bruce was beginning to fantasize about police brutality.
It took him another ten minutes to find out what the hell she even wanted.
“It’s my granddaughter,” she shot back, “she’s missing in your town.”
My town? Lady, this is barely my office. I share it with three other people.
“Well, if you’ll calm down, maybe I can help.”
Jesus Christ was that the wrong thing to say. She hit the roof and didn’t come down again until Bruce was this close to arresting her for assault on a police officer. “Young man, I do not appreciate the way you’re talking to me. My tax dollars are the only reason you have a job. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be working at a car wash.”
At least I wouldn’t have to deal with you.
Bruce took a deep breath and held his tongue in check. “How can I help you?” he asked.
“I told you, my granddaughter is missing. If you listened to me, you’d know this already.”
Bertha produced a picture and slid it across the desk. Bruce studied it. A girl, roughly sixteen with black hair, blue eyes, and dimples smiled back at him. “She;’s with that Rossi man, I just know it,” she said bitterly.
“Who?” Bruce asked.
Rolling her eyes like he was stupid, the old woman told him the story. Jessie - the dimple faced girl - had the rotten luck of having to live with Grandma Bertha after her parents went to jail on drug charges. They lived in Sand Lake, a little town in the mountains outside Albany, where Bertha was no doubt loved and admired by all. One day, Jessie, who her grandmother lovingly described as “A little troublemaker”, ran off. Bruce didn’t blame her. He’d known Bertha for half an hour and he wanted to run off. Bertha did some snooping on Jessie’s laptop and found that the “little whore” had been chatting with an older man, Joe Rossi. Rossi, or so Facebook said, lived in Albany and worked at Club Vlad.
“I want him arrested for pedophilia,” Bertha said and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. “He’s a dog just like all men. She’s probably pregnant already. Another mouth I have to feed.”
Behind the old battle ax, Vanessa appeared in the doorway and lifted her brows as if to say What a piece of work. Knowing her, she’d probably been standing just out of sight this whole time with McKenny, the elderly evidence clerk, and snickering into her hand like a little girl. LOL she called him young man.
Bertha noticed him looking over her shoulder and started to turn. Vanessa’s face went white and she ducked out of the way, narrowly avoiding detection. “I’m glad you think this is funny,” Bertha said to Bruce. “Meanwhile, if I don’t get Jessie back, the state’s going to stop sending me my checks. I need that income. I can’t work, you know. I have gout.”
Too bad being an asshole isn’t a job, you’d be world-famous
“I’ll go talk to him,” Bruce said.
“I want more than talk, young man, I want action.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When Bertha finally decided to waddle off and ruin someone else’s day, Vanessa came in and sat in the chair the old woman had so recently occupied. “Oh, my God,” she said, “that was intense. I was this close to radioing in a 1015.”
1015 was code for officer down.
“Funny,” Bruce said without a trace of humor. He had kids going missing, a dead guy someone moved around like a goddamn Barbie doll, and now this. What next, hemorrhoids?
“What do you think? Code 1 or code 2?”
Code 1 meant top priority. Code 2 meant not a top priority. Bruce thought for a moment. It didn’t sound like Jessie Henderson was in danger. It sounded like she met a guy - granted, one too old for her - and decided to hide out with him from her psycho grandma. Maybe it could be something more, but he had a gut feeling that it wasn’t…and his gut feelings were usually right. “2,” he finally said. “I got shit to do.”
By shit, he meant “Talk to the families of those missing boys again.” He’d been interviewing them for two days looking for clues, but there was nothing. It’s like they just vanished. Bruce didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Vanessa said and slapped the desk.
When she was gone, Bruce sighed.
Never a dull moment, he thought.
***
Ed Harris - no relation to the Hollywood actor - had been the medical examiner for the City of Albany since 2002, and in all that time, he had never seen anything quite like this.
It was Wednesday evening and Ed was locked away in the cold, sterile space beneath the city offices that comprised his domain. With its puke green tiles, harsh lights, and cloying smells of disinfectant, the .coroner's office creeped most people out, but not Ed. He was at home here, as comfortable surrounded by toe-tagged bodies as a cactus was surrounded by desert. A thin man in his fifties with curly, steel gray hair thinning in the middle, he wore a white smock, blood stained over his clothes that made him look like a butcher instead of a low level government functionary. He had a dark and dry sense of humor, but then again, so do all people who play with dead bodies for fun and profit.
The coroner’s office was a vast, utilitarian vault segmented into multiple different rooms. Here, where the magic happened, three stainless steel tables stood in a row; a bank of refrigerated drawers kept watch, making sure nothing funny happened. One of the cold fluorescent lights overhead flickered with a hum of electricity, and water dripped rhythmically from a faucet. It was a cold, eerie place, but to Ed, it was home.
On most nights, only one of the tables was occupied, but tonight, two were. On one lay an old lady who died of what appeared to be cyanide poisoning. On the other was Dominick Mason.
Naked save for a white cloth draped over his groin to protect his dignity, Dom was the most corpsy corpse you’d ever hope to see. In fact, if you looked up dead guy in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of him. His body was pale and sunken, one side covered in purple splotches where his blood had pooled, and his eyes were closed. His abdomen was slightly distended with the expected build up of gas, and his flesh stuck fast to the bones beneath. In other words, he was text book. A normal corpse.
Mostly normal.
As men of his trade are wont to do when strange bodies mysteriously appear, Ed had opened Dom up, making a Y shaped incision from his neck to his groin. He hummed to himself as he did so, his hands wielding his sharp and shiny tools with the deft assuredness of a seasoned surgeon. Done cutting, he dipped his gloved hands into the cavity and started removing organs. A spleen here, a liver there, nothing Dom would miss. When he got to the heart, however, he stopped.
There was something…off…about it. At first glance, it was black and withered like an oversized raisin. An odd and putrid odor emanated from it and though he was familiar with the various smells and stenches the human body produced after death, this wasn’t one of them. Try as he might, he couldn’t place it, couldn’t even compare it to anything. Plucking a magnifying glass from the metal cart next to the table, he peeled back part of Dom’s chest and examined the heart closer.
That’s when things got really weird.
Dominick Mason’s heart was, indeed, shriveled, but it was not black. Instead, it was almost entirely covered by an interlacing crisscross of what appeared to be black mold. Here and there, Ed could glimpse flashes of the heart beneath: It was wrinkled and a sickly gray color. “What is this?” Ed asked himself at length. He grabbed a pair of tweezers from the tray and carefully, very carefully, attempted to remove a piece of the mold for analysis. The moment the cold metal tips touched the heart, it gave a violent spasm that sent Ed falling back with a shocked gasp, the tweezers falling from his hand and clinking to the tiled floor.
The heart began to pulse like an alien egg sac, slowly at first, then more rapidly. For a moment, Ed was frozen in place, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Once you die, your heart ceases beating. That’s that. Only living hearts beat, and Dominick Mason was certainly dead. He was dead from the moment Ed first laid eyes on him earlier that day and he was dead now. Yet there was his heart, beating anyway.
It could be a muscle spasm. They usually aren’t that violent and consistent, but dead bodies sometimes do strange things. As he watched the blackened muscle expanding and contracting, however, Ed had the most eerie feeling. He went to rub the back of his neck, realized he was still wearing blood soaked gloves, and stripped them off. He was spooking himself out; he needed a break and a hot cup of coffee. He’d come back fresh and start over again.
With that mold.
Could you really blame him for being creeped out? That stuff wasn’t normal. He’d never seen anything like that before, not even in textbooks. Dom was scrawny and didn’t get enough vitamins in life, but overall, he was healthy; that mold…or whatever it was…had no business being there.
Going over to the coffee pot, which stood in the same room to save travel time, Ed grabbed a styrofoam cup. When he was done here, he planned to go home and -
A terrible, metallic clatter rang out, and Ed jumped. He turned around, and when he saw Dominick Mason standing next to the table, hunched slightly over and staring at him, an electric burst of fright shot up his spine and exploded in his brain, so strong it made the edges turn gray. Pale, hands hooked into talons, and the flaps of his chest hanging open to reveal the cavity beneath, Dominick Mason looked for all the world like a boy who’d been caught sneaking out to meet his girlfriend. A weak, involuntary, “Oh, God,” slipped from Ed’s trembling lips, and the spell was broken. Dom came alive and ran toward the door leading out to the parking lot. He slammed through it, and the sound of it crashing open and then falling closed again echoed through the empty chamber.
Shaking, panting for air, and soaked in piss, Ed sank to the floor in a sitting position, his eyes wide and staring like those of a soldier returning damaged from the front.
It was a long time before he composed himself enough to call the police.
***
Dazed and caught in a nightmarish twilight realm where nothing made sense, Dominick Mason limped painfully down the sidewalk, a stranger lost in a strange land filled with danger and hostile creatures. Barefoot and shrouded in a white sheet, he trembled with cold and struggled to ignore the dark, threatening shapes looming from the fog in his brain, shapes that would turn into unspeakable truths if he let them.
Passersby openly stared at him, their expressions either morbidly curious, disgusted, or alarmed. A man put his arm protectively around his girlfriend; a woman pulled her little boy to her breast, and another man sneered at him, his nose crinkling. Dom, his glazed eyes narrowed against the harsh glare of the many street lamps, headlights, and storefronts, lumbered headlong toward nowhere, his fear growing until he was shambling. He imagined he could hear every cough, every whisper; smell the odor of every unwashed body. Each car horn was deafening, every whiff of ass or armpits sent his stomach churning. The rustle of a passing pedestrian’s jacket jammed into his ears like icepicks, and the approaching globes of LED headlamps burned his eyes. He gritted his teeth and groaned against the pain.
The dense mist wrapping his brain made it hard to think. Like a frightened animal, he made his way on instinct alone. Home. He needed to get home. Out here, on the street, he was exposed. At home, locked away in his small apartment, he would be safe.
A car passed in the street, bass heavy rap music blaring from its open windows, and Dom’s brain exploded with agony. He threw himself against a street sign and held on for dear life, his legs weak. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he almost went down. He was also cold.
So, so cold.
People around him quickened their step; they never took their eyes off him, as though he were a venomous snake that would strike at any moment. He needed to get away from them. They were going to hurt him; people always hurt him.
Pushing away from the sign, he began to hobble once more toward home, wherever home was. He looked over his shoulder several times as he made his way down Central Avenue, and each time, he saw that no one was following him as he had feared.
No one, that is, except for the man in sunglasses.
Tall and lank with curly hair, he wore dark Aviators and a leather motorcycle jacket over a button up shirt. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets and his face showed no expression. He was always there, always a few steps closer. Outside Capital Fried Chicken, a group of people openly stared at him, He heard their whispers as he passed. What’s wrong with him? Dude’s straight tweakin. And the one that struck him the most. That guy looks dead.
Dom hobbled faster, as if to outrun the realization that he was, in fact, dead. The man in sunglasses was closer now, his footsteps so loud that Dom winced. He turned around, and the man was impossibly in front of him. Dom ran into him and bounced backward, going ass over tea kettle and landing on the former. They were in front of a church on a darkened corner, the lights here either burned out or shot out - you could never tell in Albany. Even though it was dark, Dom could see everything with crystal clarity. Dom tried to scurry away, but he was too weak to escape. Right there and then, he decided to give up. Come what may, he just wanted this nightmare to be over.
The man stared down at him, emotionless, unspeaking.
Dom squirmed.
“You’re real lucky I came along,” the man said. His tone was flat, even.
Dead.
“Get up,” he said, “I’ll take you home.”
Home?
Yes.
Dom wanted to go home.
The man helped him up, and Dom followed him into the night.
***
Bruce Kenner stood in the middle of the medical examiner’s office at half past nine that evening with his hands on his hips and stared doubtfully down at Ed Harris. The lonely cavern was alive with activity as cops went over everything, all of them looking either bemused or a mused. Bruce was neither. He’d been at home, sitting in his chair and having a beer in front of AEW Dynamite when Vanessa called. “You might wanna get down here,” she said, sounding confused, “something really strange is going on.”
Ed Harris - no relation to that one guy - sat in a straight back chair beside his cluttered desk and gripped a styrofoam cup of coffee in both hands, putting Bruce - for some reason - in mind of a monkey. When Bruce came in, the old man was white as a sheet and shook like a leaf. In the last half hour, little had changed.
“Tell me again,” Bruce said.
He and Ed were pretty good friends. He knew that Ed knew standard police procedure. Cops don’t ask you to repeat your story a thousand times over because they’re forgetful fucks, they do it because telling it again and again helps to jog loose details that you might have forgotten. Ed, therefore, did not protest. “I turned my back,” he said and chopped the chair like Jackie Chan, “and I heard the noise.”
His voice was thick, unsteady, and halting. He sounded as squirrely as he looked…and he looked pretty damn squirrelly right now.
“I turned around…and he was looking at me. He was standing there and he was looking at me.”
This was the fourth time he’d had Ed go through the story, and nothing had changed. Bruce felt something stirring deep inside his gut. It was either disquiet…or he had to fart. He opened his mouth to speak, but sighed.
“You don’t believe me,” Ed said.
“I dunno, Ed. Dead bodies don’t just get up and walk away.”
Ed flashed. “I know that, goddamn it, but this one did.”
Bruce glanced at Vanessa. She looked uncomfortable.
“Are you sure he was dead?” Bruce asked.
Ed opened his mouth, closed it again, and said, “I did the autopsy.” His voice broke on the last word, and he sounded almost like he was pleading. “His fucking liver’s on the floor. He stepped on it. The man has nothing in him. I-I’m telling you, there’s no way he’s alive.”
During the autopsy, Ed had sat Dominick Mason’s organs on the little tray table where he kept his pointy things. Mason knocked it over while getting up. Indeed, there were human organs on the floor, and one of them did look kind of squished. Bare, bloody footprints led to the exit door, up a set of concrete steps, and then disappeared in the alley behind the office.
“You said you left his heart,” Bruce said.
“And his brain,” Vanessa helpfully added.
Ed pinched the bridge of his nose like a put upon professor dealing with two particularly stupid students. “Even with his heart and his brain, he’s dead. You saw the livor mortis. He was cold, he was stiff. His heart wasn’t beating, he wasn’t breathing. He was in one of those drawers for nine hours, not breathing, no blood flow - it’s impossible. It’s just…it’s impossible. I don’t care what you think, he was dead. And even if somehow he wasn’t, I cut out almost everything. I opened his stomach, I took his spleen - you don’t just get up from that. You don’t walk away from that, much less run.”
Bruce chewed the inside of his bottom lip because he didn’t have a Twix. He didn’t look like the smartest man in the world…and he wasn’t…but he knew a dead body when he saw one, and the body they took out of Dominick Mason’s apartment was D.E.A.D. And like Ed said, even if by some freak fluke of nature he wasn’t, he couldn’t just get up and go about his day with no liver, spleen, or kidneys. Hell, Bruce had his gallbladder out and he couldn’t even walk away from that.
“You said there was something funny about his heart,” Vanessa said.
Ed finished off his coffee. “Yeah. It was…moldy. I-I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Is it possible that…has something to do with it?”
“Unless the rules of biology have changed overnight, no,” Ed stated.
While Ed poured himself another cup of Joe, spilling some because he was still shaking, Vanessa took Bruce aside. “So what do you think?” she asked. “Is he telling the truth?”
For that, Bruce did not have an immediate answer. All else aside, he was a cop. He followed the evidence - and his gut instinct - wherever it led him. Ed was a sober man - he was not a drunk, insane, or stupid - and no man on earth could fake the look of trauma in his eyes. Bruce’s eyes went to the bloody footprints leading away from the exam table and his stomach roiled. It might be cliched, but there had to be a rational explanation. “Yeah,” he finally said. “The kid got up like he said, but there’s no way he was dead. Maybe…I dunno, he had a surge of adrenaline or something. I’m not a doctor.”
“That’ll only get him so far,” Vanessa said. “We’ll probably find him on the street somewhere.”
He went back to the purple splotches on Dom’s face, to his cold stiffness. There’s no way he was dead?
Bruce was confused, and he hated being confused.
“I dunno,” he said, “maybe.”
But he had the gnawing feeling that they wouldn’t. They would never find him…and Bruce would be confused forever.
Goddamn it, Mason, he thought, where are you?

I’m 51 days in and I feel like my mind is getting sharper and I’m starting to notice things that aren’t good for me that I constantly do way more often. One of these being one of my close friends.
She and I bonded over art mostly bc neither of us really knew anyone that was an artist and for a while like 3 years ago we sort of tried a relationship but she said she wasn’t ready after I had fallen really hard for her and we were pretty much doing everything couples do. Basically we tried to go back to being friends but it wasn’t the same after that and I still thought of her as one of my closest friends but after the talking stage she got kind of distant and we’d still talk regularly but like once a week she’d go days without answering a text or whatever which was kind of annoying.
Anyways, I got an actual girlfriend and I feel really bad but I never was over my friend and I think I thought about her more than my actual gf (i was a peace of trash) bc we were still talking regularly throughout the relationship (but never in person always over text). After I broke up with my gf last year my friend and I started talking a lot more but she’d still do the thing where she’d wait a couple days to reply to a text but not as often. Then one day after we hung out I realized I still had feelings that I was suppressing and I was still in love with her. But I knew she didn’t feel the same way even tho she was the one that even suggested the relationship in the first place.
Anyways after one of her texting Mia’s I realized “what the hell am I doing? She doesn’t like me back and I’m just torturing myself talking to her and our friendship is tarnished no matter how much I try to ignore it and pretend like it’s not.” So when she finally did reply a couple days later I just deleted the whole text convo and never really plan on reaching out to her again. I can’t keep putting myself though it and one thing I’ve noticed is staying in contact with someone makes it impossible to get over them.
I just wanted to share this story as it’s about a benefit I had not really heard about but just being able to identify the poison in your life and getting rid of it is huge. Social media like instagram and Snapchat is another poison I’ve done away with.
Besides this I’ve also experienced a sharper mind overall, less brainfog, female attraction (I make so much “accidental” eye contact with attractive women now and they hold it too) and the desire to be less lustful, more patient charitable and just a better man of God overall. The Holy Spirit is definitely at work in my life now that I’m consciously allowing him in.
Peace and love to all of you! And thanks for allowing me to share!

(Repost because I have a video!)
I’ve just moved to a new apartment for the next few months and went cat spotting last night and I found a cute stray right near my apartment building! He has a massive head and a super loud meow so my nickname for him is BigHead.
He keeps sneezing and has goo around his eyes and nose and a black … spot or hole(?) on his nose and is very dirty. He is friendly but his breaths often sounds like he’s breathing out like a human would if they had a little bit of snot that is tickling inside their nose. One quick Google and it sounds like an upper respiratory infection. There is a vet literally 3 doors down from me but this isn’t my home country and I don’t speak the language.
I’m worried about caging him and taking him to the vet and him losing trust in me/humans and being extremely stressed or being aggressive, OR that he actually belongs to someone!!! The possibility of someone owning him is very low (he isn’t neutered and is clearly sick), but not impossible because the way that a lot of pets are treated here is shocking to me and not always great. BUT I feel like I need to help him because he is suffering. I’d be willing to pay for his treatment. :( is this the right thing to do?! Luckily I actually live with an ex vet right now but he doesn’t work as one anymore I don’t think he will take me seriously because there are so many stray animals in this country and “that’s just life”.
I’m so sensitive to cats suffering I dreamt of this cat last night 😟 I can’t stop thinking about him! I’ve never helped a cat like this before that wasn’t my own so I don’t know what’s right

My [27M] gf [22F] and I have been dating for around a year. She is doing a Theatre degree, so she has lots of friends in the drama, acting, theatre space, and as a result a lot of them are members of the lgbt community. I've been around them a few times, and to be completely honest, I don't like them. I find them entitled, narcissistic, and boring af to be around. All they talk about is personal drama/gossip, politics, and how much of a victim they are, which I find especially irritating since most if not all of them come from rich families and are white. As a brown kid that grew up in a poor neighbourhood it annoys the fuck out of me.
Anyways, I try to remain cordial with them for the sake of my girlfriend. A couple nights ago, they were planning to attend a drag show to support one of their friends that was performing. I gave an excuse about being busy with work or something so I wouldn't be able to make it. All her friends basically groaned when I said that and acting extremely offended. When I asked what the problem was, one of them said I always have an excuse and never attend lgbt-related events, and another one said I give off "major homophobe vibes", whatever that means. I was pissed at this point and asked them to give me some examples, and they pointed to a couple times when I didn't go to a gay bar with them or pride festival and made up a bs excuse.
My girlfriend tried defending me saying that I've hung out with them a decent amount of times, and one of her friends responded saying you should stop defending your asshole boyfriend and his "toxic masculinity" lmao. I almost burst out laughing when she said this, sounded straight out of tumblr. Anyways, I said that I had to let my dog out and left with my girlfriend to avoid the awkwardness. On the way home, she asked if I could apologize to her friends and attend the drag show. I held firm and said no, I don't want to spend more time with her friends than I have to, and she got mad at me saying she doesn't want to make it awkward with her friends and I can at least compromise this one time. I said I'd think about it and left it at that.
Anyways, am I being an asshole in this situation?

An hour after getting back from the Mason apartment, Bruce Kenner had the distinct misfortune of meeting Bertha Henderson.
A plump, gaudy woman with wrinkles and sun beaten skin only an alligator could love, Bertha Henderson wore bright red lipstick, bright red rouge, and way too much mascara. Her tangled hair was a dull red color and her clothes - pink pants and a white floral top - stretched tight across her bulbous frame. She looked like the kind of woman who lived in a trailer with velvet pictures of Elvis on the wall and pink flamingos in the front yard.
She acted like one too.
From the moment she stormed into his office, she hadn’t shut up once. She scolded, chided, accused, and badgered, sometimes even wagging one fat finger in his face like he was a naughty little boy. Ten minutes into the dressing down and Bruce was beginning to fantasize about police brutality.
It took him another ten minutes to find out what the hell she even wanted.
“It’s my granddaughter,” she shot back, “she’s missing in your town.”
My town? Lady, this is barely my office. I share it with three other people.
“Well, if you’ll calm down, maybe I can help.”
Jesus Christ was that the wrong thing to say. She hit the roof and didn’t come down again until Bruce was this close to arresting her for assault on a police officer. “Young man, I do not appreciate the way you’re talking to me. My tax dollars are the only reason you have a job. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be working at a car wash.”
At least I wouldn’t have to deal with you.
Bruce took a deep breath and held his tongue in check. “How can I help you?” he asked.
“I told you, my granddaughter is missing. If you listened to me, you’d know this already.”
Bertha produced a picture and slid it across the desk. Bruce studied it. A girl, roughly sixteen with black hair, blue eyes, and dimples smiled back at him. “She;’s with that Rossi man, I just know it,” she said bitterly.
“Who?” Bruce asked.
Rolling her eyes like he was stupid, the old woman told him the story. Jessie - the dimple faced girl - had the rotten luck of having to live with Grandma Bertha after her parents went to jail on drug charges. They lived in Sand Lake, a little town in the mountains outside Albany, where Bertha was no doubt loved and admired by all. One day, Jessie, who her grandmother lovingly described as “A little troublemaker”, ran off. Bruce didn’t blame her. He’d known Bertha for half an hour and he wanted to run off. Bertha did some snooping on Jessie’s laptop and found that the “little whore” had been chatting with an older man, Joe Rossi. Rossi, or so Facebook said, lived in Albany and worked at Club Vlad.
“I want him arrested for pedophilia,” Bertha said and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. “He’s a dog just like all men. She’s probably pregnant already. Another mouth I have to feed.”
Behind the old battle ax, Vanessa appeared in the doorway and lifted her brows as if to say What a piece of work. Knowing her, she’d probably been standing just out of sight this whole time with McKenny, the elderly evidence clerk, and snickering into her hand like a little girl. LOL she called him young man.
Bertha noticed him looking over her shoulder and started to turn. Vanessa’s face went white and she ducked out of the way, narrowly avoiding detection. “I’m glad you think this is funny,” Bertha said to Bruce. “Meanwhile, if I don’t get Jessie back, the state’s going to stop sending me my checks. I need that income. I can’t work, you know. I have gout.”
Too bad being an asshole isn’t a job, you’d be world-famous
“I’ll go talk to him,” Bruce said.
“I want more than talk, young man, I want action.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When Bertha finally decided to waddle off and ruin someone else’s day, Vanessa came in and sat in the chair the old woman had so recently occupied. “Oh, my God,” she said, “that was intense. I was this close to radioing in a 1015.”
1015 was code for officer down.
“Funny,” Bruce said without a trace of humor. He had kids going missing, a dead guy someone moved around like a goddamn Barbie doll, and now this. What next, hemorrhoids?
“What do you think? Code 1 or code 2?”
Code 1 meant top priority. Code 2 meant not a top priority. Bruce thought for a moment. It didn’t sound like Jessie Henderson was in danger. It sounded like she met a guy - granted, one too old for her - and decided to hide out with him from her psycho grandma. Maybe it could be something more, but he had a gut feeling that it wasn’t…and his gut feelings were usually right. “2,” he finally said. “I got shit to do.”
By shit, he meant “Talk to the families of those missing boys again.” He’d been interviewing them for two days looking for clues, but there was nothing. It’s like they just vanished. Bruce didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Vanessa said and slapped the desk.
When she was gone, Bruce sighed.
Never a dull moment, he thought.
***
Ed Harris - no relation to the Hollywood actor - had been the medical examiner for the City of Albany since 2002, and in all that time, he had never seen anything quite like this.
It was Wednesday evening and Ed was locked away in the cold, sterile space beneath the city offices that comprised his domain. With its puke green tiles, harsh lights, and cloying smells of disinfectant, the .coroner's office creeped most people out, but not Ed. He was at home here, as comfortable surrounded by toe-tagged bodies as a cactus was surrounded by desert. A thin man in his fifties with curly, steel gray hair thinning in the middle, he wore a white smock, blood stained over his clothes that made him look like a butcher instead of a low level government functionary. He had a dark and dry sense of humor, but then again, so do all people who play with dead bodies for fun and profit.
The coroner’s office was a vast, utilitarian vault segmented into multiple different rooms. Here, where the magic happened, three stainless steel tables stood in a row; a bank of refrigerated drawers kept watch, making sure nothing funny happened. One of the cold fluorescent lights overhead flickered with a hum of electricity, and water dripped rhythmically from a faucet. It was a cold, eerie place, but to Ed, it was home.
On most nights, only one of the tables was occupied, but tonight, two were. On one lay an old lady who died of what appeared to be cyanide poisoning. On the other was Dominick Mason.
Naked save for a white cloth draped over his groin to protect his dignity, Dom was the most corpsy corpse you’d ever hope to see. In fact, if you looked up dead guy in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of him. His body was pale and sunken, one side covered in purple splotches where his blood had pooled, and his eyes were closed. His abdomen was slightly distended with the expected build up of gas, and his flesh stuck fast to the bones beneath. In other words, he was text book. A normal corpse.
Mostly normal.
As men of his trade are wont to do when strange bodies mysteriously appear, Ed had opened Dom up, making a Y shaped incision from his neck to his groin. He hummed to himself as he did so, his hands wielding his sharp and shiny tools with the deft assuredness of a seasoned surgeon. Done cutting, he dipped his gloved hands into the cavity and started removing organs. A spleen here, a liver there, nothing Dom would miss. When he got to the heart, however, he stopped.
There was something…off…about it. At first glance, it was black and withered like an oversized raisin. An odd and putrid odor emanated from it and though he was familiar with the various smells and stenches the human body produced after death, this wasn’t one of them. Try as he might, he couldn’t place it, couldn’t even compare it to anything. Plucking a magnifying glass from the metal cart next to the table, he peeled back part of Dom’s chest and examined the heart closer.
That’s when things got really weird.
Dominick Mason’s heart was, indeed, shriveled, but it was not black. Instead, it was almost entirely covered by an interlacing crisscross of what appeared to be black mold. Here and there, Ed could glimpse flashes of the heart beneath: It was wrinkled and a sickly gray color. “What is this?” Ed asked himself at length. He grabbed a pair of tweezers from the tray and carefully, very carefully, attempted to remove a piece of the mold for analysis. The moment the cold metal tips touched the heart, it gave a violent spasm that sent Ed falling back with a shocked gasp, the tweezers falling from his hand and clinking to the tiled floor.
The heart began to pulse like an alien egg sac, slowly at first, then more rapidly. For a moment, Ed was frozen in place, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Once you die, your heart ceases beating. That’s that. Only living hearts beat, and Dominick Mason was certainly dead. He was dead from the moment Ed first laid eyes on him earlier that day and he was dead now. Yet there was his heart, beating anyway.
It could be a muscle spasm. They usually aren’t that violent and consistent, but dead bodies sometimes do strange things. As he watched the blackened muscle expanding and contracting, however, Ed had the most eerie feeling. He went to rub the back of his neck, realized he was still wearing blood soaked gloves, and stripped them off. He was spooking himself out; he needed a break and a hot cup of coffee. He’d come back fresh and start over again.
With that mold.
Could you really blame him for being creeped out? That stuff wasn’t normal. He’d never seen anything like that before, not even in textbooks. Dom was scrawny and didn’t get enough vitamins in life, but overall, he was healthy; that mold…or whatever it was…had no business being there.
Going over to the coffee pot, which stood in the same room to save travel time, Ed grabbed a styrofoam cup. When he was done here, he planned to go home and -
A terrible, metallic clatter rang out, and Ed jumped. He turned around, and when he saw Dominick Mason standing next to the table, hunched slightly over and staring at him, an electric burst of fright shot up his spine and exploded in his brain, so strong it made the edges turn gray. Pale, hands hooked into talons, and the flaps of his chest hanging open to reveal the cavity beneath, Dominick Mason looked for all the world like a boy who’d been caught sneaking out to meet his girlfriend. A weak, involuntary, “Oh, God,” slipped from Ed’s trembling lips, and the spell was broken. Dom came alive and ran toward the door leading out to the parking lot. He slammed through it, and the sound of it crashing open and then falling closed again echoed through the empty chamber.
Shaking, panting for air, and soaked in piss, Ed sank to the floor in a sitting position, his eyes wide and staring like those of a soldier returning damaged from the front.
It was a long time before he composed himself enough to call the police.
***
Dazed and caught in a nightmarish twilight realm where nothing made sense, Dominick Mason limped painfully down the sidewalk, a stranger lost in a strange land filled with danger and hostile creatures. Barefoot and shrouded in a white sheet, he trembled with cold and struggled to ignore the dark, threatening shapes looming from the fog in his brain, shapes that would turn into unspeakable truths if he let them.
Passersby openly stared at him, their expressions either morbidly curious, disgusted, or alarmed. A man put his arm protectively around his girlfriend; a woman pulled her little boy to her breast, and another man sneered at him, his nose crinkling. Dom, his glazed eyes narrowed against the harsh glare of the many street lamps, headlights, and storefronts, lumbered headlong toward nowhere, his fear growing until he was shambling. He imagined he could hear every cough, every whisper; smell the odor of every unwashed body. Each car horn was deafening, every whiff of ass or armpits sent his stomach churning. The rustle of a passing pedestrian’s jacket jammed into his ears like icepicks, and the approaching globes of LED headlamps burned his eyes. He gritted his teeth and groaned against the pain.
The dense mist wrapping his brain made it hard to think. Like a frightened animal, he made his way on instinct alone. Home. He needed to get home. Out here, on the street, he was exposed. At home, locked away in his small apartment, he would be safe.
A car passed in the street, bass heavy rap music blaring from its open windows, and Dom’s brain exploded with agony. He threw himself against a street sign and held on for dear life, his legs weak. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he almost went down. He was also cold.
So, so cold.
People around him quickened their step; they never took their eyes off him, as though he were a venomous snake that would strike at any moment. He needed to get away from them. They were going to hurt him; people always hurt him.
Pushing away from the sign, he began to hobble once more toward home, wherever home was. He looked over his shoulder several times as he made his way down Central Avenue, and each time, he saw that no one was following him as he had feared.
No one, that is, except for the man in sunglasses.
Tall and lank with curly hair, he wore dark Aviators and a leather motorcycle jacket over a button up shirt. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets and his face showed no expression. He was always there, always a few steps closer. Outside Capital Fried Chicken, a group of people openly stared at him, He heard their whispers as he passed. What’s wrong with him? Dude’s straight tweakin. And the one that struck him the most. That guy looks dead.
Dom hobbled faster, as if to outrun the realization that he was, in fact, dead. The man in sunglasses was closer now, his footsteps so loud that Dom winced. He turned around, and the man was impossibly in front of him. Dom ran into him and bounced backward, going ass over tea kettle and landing on the former. They were in front of a church on a darkened corner, the lights here either burned out or shot out - you could never tell in Albany. Even though it was dark, Dom could see everything with crystal clarity. Dom tried to scurry away, but he was too weak to escape. Right there and then, he decided to give up. Come what may, he just wanted this nightmare to be over.
The man stared down at him, emotionless, unspeaking.
Dom squirmed.
“You’re real lucky I came along,” the man said. His tone was flat, even.
Dead.
“Get up,” he said, “I’ll take you home.”
Home?
Yes.
Dom wanted to go home.
The man helped him up, and Dom followed him into the night.
***
Bruce Kenner stood in the middle of the medical examiner’s office at half past nine that evening with his hands on his hips and stared doubtfully down at Ed Harris. The lonely cavern was alive with activity as cops went over everything, all of them looking either bemused or a mused. Bruce was neither. He’d been at home, sitting in his chair and having a beer in front of AEW Dynamite when Vanessa called. “You might wanna get down here,” she said, sounding confused, “something really strange is going on.”
Ed Harris - no relation to that one guy - sat in a straight back chair beside his cluttered desk and gripped a styrofoam cup of coffee in both hands, putting Bruce - for some reason - in mind of a monkey. When Bruce came in, the old man was white as a sheet and shook like a leaf. In the last half hour, little had changed.
“Tell me again,” Bruce said.
He and Ed were pretty good friends. He knew that Ed knew standard police procedure. Cops don’t ask you to repeat your story a thousand times over because they’re forgetful fucks, they do it because telling it again and again helps to jog loose details that you might have forgotten. Ed, therefore, did not protest. “I turned my back,” he said and chopped the chair like Jackie Chan, “and I heard the noise.”
His voice was thick, unsteady, and halting. He sounded as squirrely as he looked…and he looked pretty damn squirrelly right now.
“I turned around…and he was looking at me. He was standing there and he was looking at me.”
This was the fourth time he’d had Ed go through the story, and nothing had changed. Bruce felt something stirring deep inside his gut. It was either disquiet…or he had to fart. He opened his mouth to speak, but sighed.
“You don’t believe me,” Ed said.
“I dunno, Ed. Dead bodies don’t just get up and walk away.”
Ed flashed. “I know that, goddamn it, but this one did.”
Bruce glanced at Vanessa. She looked uncomfortable.
“Are you sure he was dead?” Bruce asked.
Ed opened his mouth, closed it again, and said, “I did the autopsy.” His voice broke on the last word, and he sounded almost like he was pleading. “His fucking liver’s on the floor. He stepped on it. The man has nothing in him. I-I’m telling you, there’s no way he’s alive.”
During the autopsy, Ed had sat Dominick Mason’s organs on the little tray table where he kept his pointy things. Mason knocked it over while getting up. Indeed, there were human organs on the floor, and one of them did look kind of squished. Bare, bloody footprints led to the exit door, up a set of concrete steps, and then disappeared in the alley behind the office.
“You said you left his heart,” Bruce said.
“And his brain,” Vanessa helpfully added.
Ed pinched the bridge of his nose like a put upon professor dealing with two particularly stupid students. “Even with his heart and his brain, he’s dead. You saw the livor mortis. He was cold, he was stiff. His heart wasn’t beating, he wasn’t breathing. He was in one of those drawers for nine hours, not breathing, no blood flow - it’s impossible. It’s just…it’s impossible. I don’t care what you think, he was dead. And even if somehow he wasn’t, I cut out almost everything. I opened his stomach, I took his spleen - you don’t just get up from that. You don’t walk away from that, much less run.”
Bruce chewed the inside of his bottom lip because he didn’t have a Twix. He didn’t look like the smartest man in the world…and he wasn’t…but he knew a dead body when he saw one, and the body they took out of Dominick Mason’s apartment was D.E.A.D. And like Ed said, even if by some freak fluke of nature he wasn’t, he couldn’t just get up and go about his day with no liver, spleen, or kidneys. Hell, Bruce had his gallbladder out and he couldn’t even walk away from that.
“You said there was something funny about his heart,” Vanessa said.
Ed finished off his coffee. “Yeah. It was…moldy. I-I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Is it possible that…has something to do with it?”
“Unless the rules of biology have changed overnight, no,” Ed stated.
While Ed poured himself another cup of Joe, spilling some because he was still shaking, Vanessa took Bruce aside. “So what do you think?” she asked. “Is he telling the truth?”
For that, Bruce did not have an immediate answer. All else aside, he was a cop. He followed the evidence - and his gut instinct - wherever it led him. Ed was a sober man - he was not a drunk, insane, or stupid - and no man on earth could fake the look of trauma in his eyes. Bruce’s eyes went to the bloody footprints leading away from the exam table and his stomach roiled. It might be cliched, but there had to be a rational explanation. “Yeah,” he finally said. “The kid got up like he said, but there’s no way he was dead. Maybe…I dunno, he had a surge of adrenaline or something. I’m not a doctor.”
“That’ll only get him so far,” Vanessa said. “We’ll probably find him on the street somewhere.”
He went back to the purple splotches on Dom’s face, to his cold stiffness. There’s no way he was dead?
Bruce was confused, and he hated being confused.
“I dunno,” he said, “maybe.”
But he had the gnawing feeling that they wouldn’t. They would never find him…and Bruce would be confused forever.
Goddamn it, Mason, he thought, where are you?

TW: past medical abuse, mentions of miscarriage, preemie baby and Nicu stay.
This is my second baby, and my last! He was due in early May. Two years previously, I had his older sister at 36 weeks, so I knew that there was a possibility of going into labor early. So I scheduled my maternity leave at school to start at around 36 weeks, thinking if I relax I could keep him in for another week or so and have a full-term baby. Nope!
I had had a lot of previous issues with this pregnancy, like a hemorrhaging incident at 10 weeks in which we thought I had a miscarriage, some continue to bleeding and cramping at different points in my pregnancy, and a premature loss of my mucus plug. I was told each time that everything's fine and there's no sign of anything wrong and he should be a healthy full term baby. I felt like everyone around me thought I was being dramatic or looking for attention, but I really just wanted my baby to be okay and had this constant feeling that something wasn't right. Well, something wasn't right.
I, just like with my daughter, spontaneously went into labor at 34 weeks. PPROM, with my water breaking impressively around midnight at home. We of course we're not expecting this, so my husband ran to a neighbor to get them to come house sit until his mother could arrive to watch our sleeping toddler upstairs, and we drove to the hospital. I originally had wanted to drive myself because I just didn't want to leave our daughter without a parent at home, but I was gushing so much water that I couldn't hardly string two words together, let alone walk.
We got to the hospital, went into the emergency room entrance because it was after hours, and went to labor and delivery triage. Won't behold, I'm a couple centimeters dilated and in labor. The nurse I had was pretty rough giving me a cervical check, and it was the only one I've ever had between the two children have given birth to that hurt. The same nurse also failed to get my IV port in and left in half, and thankfully another nurse who wasn't in a bad mood came in and got it on the 4th attempt. My poor arms were covered in massive bruises for a couple weeks afterwards. Amazingly we were put in the same in sweet Nicki room as we were for my daughter 2 years ago, good old room 350!
Labor progressed well I'm without need for any intervention, like pictocin. I handled the contractions better than I did with my first, but wanted to make sure I got my epidural before I progressed to pass the point of no return-- I in no way wanted to experience the feeling of possibly ripping my vagina 🫠
It was really tough mentally, getting my epidural. With my first baby, the anesthesiologist was horrible. You can look at my previous birth story if you want the full rundown, but he assaulted me, so I was really nervous this time around. The nurse caught on that I was feeling apprehensive, and with talking to her I came to found out that the previous anesthesiologist had been fired for assaulting multiple women the same way he did me! Really hope he never works again. They brought in the new anesthesiologist, and he was the most gentle and kind person! It went very smoothly, and it was nice to have a relief from the contractions and pressure.
I was hoping I could maybe rest or even nap once I got my epidural in like I did was my first. But nope, 10 minutes later I was being told he is right there and ready to come out, about half a day after labor started. I don't know why, probably because he was so little, but he was incredibly easy to push out. I was told to stop pushing, and not push so hard, and got him out in about three gentle but steady pushes. Thankfully I had no damage at all, no tearing or even bruising or swelling. After my epidural wore off it literally just felt like I had written a bike for the first time in a while. As immensely grateful, because I was going to be run through the ringer taking care of my family and a Nicu baby.
When he first came out, my son was very small, yes, but incredibly pink, very lively and noisy, and he peed all over me immediately lol. They let him have extra time with his cord before they clamped it due to him being early, and I got to do my wonderful hour with him before they wished him over to the NICU attachment of the room. He had respiratory distress for the first 24 hours of his life, which was gut-wrenching to watch. He could not regulate his body temperature at all, so unless he was snuggled under many blankets on me, He stayed on the warmer. He couldn't eat by himself so his NG tube was placed and used for the majority of his stay. His blood sugar was monitored very religiously, and it was so tough watching his little feet be pricked over and over and over.
I was released after 2 days from the hospital, and I probably could have been released earlier but I wanted to stay officially as a patient for a little longer. It was hard, being away from my toddler daughter was a special kind of hell. But then when I was with her, my heart was torn to pieces that I wasn't with my baby. No matter where I was, I felt horrible guilt. I triple fed, pumping every 3 hours, and if I was a NICU nursing him before they topped him up with his special increased calorie premium formula. Any milk I produced was fortified to give to him as well. He steadily lost weight despite them constantly increasing the size of a speeds, the point of him constantly spitting up from having way too much in his tummy. But I was told that this is just what they do until they start gaining weight. I was told with preemies that they just won't put on weight for the longest time, and then suddenly start putting it on, and suddenly eating on their own.
I was starting to lose hope of that, when on about the 10th day he put on weight overnight. They took out his tube and we worked on feedings with him, which he seemed to struggle so hard with. But then just like with the weight, he suddenly started eating well. On day 12 we could take him home! In a way it was even harder at home to keep up with the pumping, fortifying the milk I pumped myself, mixing the special recipe of extra calories preemie formula, and nursing. He gained weight so well that I was given the okay after a few days at home to stop pumping if I didn't want to. I very gratefully stopped pumping
. He eventually started showing signs of a milk protein intolerance, just like my daughter had, and just like I had as a baby. It was no surprise to me when he was put on hypoallergenic formula. We're still dealing with all of that right now, with me trying to keep dairy out of my diet and struggling with the decision of whether I want to keep combo feeding or just switch over completely formula. He will be 2 months old in about a week and he is put on 4 lb so far, almost doubling his birth weight!
Right now we are also struggling with his head shape. This was new to me, because my first born head no issues with any flat spots or head shape at all. But being in NICU, they always faced him in the same direction, facing the nursing station when I was not there. He developed a tendency to put his head to the right, and developed a bit of flat spot. We've been working with him on tummy time, gently repositioning his head the other way, and just doing everything in our power to help correct this... All to know avail. His spot has gotten worse, and we are fairly certain that he will be getting a helmet soon. I know it's no big deal, but apart me feels like I failed somehow 😭 his poor, cute little lopsided noggin 🥺 otherwise, besides his head shape and figuring out his dairy intolerance, he's doing well!
I've tried multiple times to figure out why my babies were born so early, why my body couldn't keep them in to be full term. The OB had no answers for me and just sort of shrugged her shoulders at it, saying that since I showed no signs of having an incompetence cervix or anything else, it was just something that we'd never know why. She was relieved though to hear that we did not plan to have any more children, as that would have made things a bit more complicated given my history of early birth.
It's hard of me is sad that I'm not having any more children, but the possibility of having another preemie baby, especially one even younger than my first two, is sobering. I will just enjoy my two very healthy and happy babies I have 💕

He and I only knew each other for a few days. He told mutual friends that he had a crush on me. I think he was legitimately into me, but he had a girlfriend. He cut contact with me, and I was so upset about getting led on. I know he did the right thing, being loyal to his girlfriend, but I was put in a really messed up position.
Three years go by, and I'm having a mental breakdown online. I'm posting and reposting sad heartbreak videos on TikTok. Supposedly, despite not following me online, he saw these posts and asked our friends to see if I was posting anything else on my private Instagram. So why does he care?

I've been in a relationship with my partner for a few years now and it's amazing. In private, we're very handsy with each other—always touching, kissing, hugging, etc. We are very much in love.
But when it comes to being in front of people, it's like there's some sort of physical barrier in me blocking me from doing anything cute with them. ESPECIALLY around family.
They grew up in a VERY openly affectionate household, where I didn't. I don't even think I saw my parents kiss and I got maybe one hug a year, so I'm starting to think that that's why I'm so weird with it.
The annoying thing is is that I WANT to be participating in PDA. I want to be all cuddly in public, around other people. I love that feeling of hugs and touching all the time. But idk what it is inside of me that won't allow me to do it.
My partner brought it up to me maybe like 1-2 times and I know it secretly makes them a little sad, so I'm trying to work on it. I know it sounds silly, but do you have any advice on how to overcome this fear of not wanting PDA?

I (30 M) don’t know what to do about my ex-girlfriend who I’ll call Jane (27 F) who ended up cheating on me after dating for 5 years. Me and Jane were childhood friends for as long as I can remember. I never thought in a million years that she would do this to me, or be this type of person who would cheat. I thought we had a great relationship with our normal ups and downs like any other couple. About a year ago I was contacted by some girl I didn’t know through social media, I don’t usually respond to messages sent by people I don’t know but this girl who I’ll call Sam sent me a message saying that Jane was cheating on me. Somehow she knew about Jane, I told her to please provide any proof she had. She ended up sending me screenshots of text messages of her friend, who I’ll call Kevin (28 M) and Jane texting each other. The thing that shocked me the most was the text Jane had sent about her being pregnant, fucking pregnant! We were talking about having a baby at the time before I discovered the cheating, and we decided not to have one yet until we were financially stable. I was heartbroken to say the least. Sam had sent me a video of Kevin drunkenly admitting about sleeping with Jane without protection. Sam told me she had gotten a hold of Kevin’s phone while he was out and was left unlocked. She wanted to let me know about this issue because she didn’t want me to have false hopes of me being the father to the kid that could possibly not be mine. I thanked her and asked how she found me, she said she had found Jane’s social media account that was linked back to me in a post. Jane’s social media is open, but she doesn’t really use it that much, other than making posts about us or shopping accessories. I thanked Sam for letting me know and saved all the screenshots she had sent me along with the video. Jane was visiting her mother at the time, so I took the liberty of packing Jane’s stuff and other important essentials she owns. Jane came home later that day looking all happy and jittery. I had to put on a fake smile when she delivered the news that she was pregnant and hugged me. I told her we should go out to celebrate, and she agreed, not knowing of what I have in store for her. I ended up driving her back to her mother’s place as she was confused as to why we were there, I told her that she could drop the act already and told her that I know about the cheating. She looked like a deer in headlights if I’m describing correctly. Of course, she tried to deny it until I showed all the screenshots to her that I got from Sam. Jane ended up breaking down and confessing that the cheating was in fact true, I asked how long was the cheating going on and Jane was a bit hysterical before telling me that she was seeing Kevin behind my back for the last 2 years. I then asked if they had worn protection when she was cheating on me with Kevin, she said no. I told Jane we were done and to never contact me again. She lost it and started crying even harder after I took out her belongings from the trunk of my car. She refused to get out of the vehicle, and she begged for another chance, Jane even told me that she would have the a-word if it means staying with her. I kinda got spooked hearing that. I didn’t expect her to go so low with that option. I told her that whatever she decided is not gonna undue the damage she has done to both of us, I ended having to get Jane’s mother involved and explained the situation to her and showing her the evidence and conversation I had secretly recorded Jane’s mother apologized for her daughter’s actions and after a couple of minutes Jane finally got out of my vehicle and I drove off without looking back or giving her a chance to speak to me again. I ended breaking down myself after I got back home and couldn’t eat or sleep right after what happened, and this was a repeated cycle that lasted for a couple of months. It’s been almost a year now, and I’ve nearly recovered from the incident, but the scars are still there. Just 2 weeks ago Jane messaged me since the break up and told me she wanted to get back together, I told her no straight up and blocked her. Then a few days ago Jane showed up at my front door, not gonna lie she looked like a total mess when I saw her through the doorbell camera, and she was asking me to speak to her, I didn’t let her in, so I told her what the hell she wanted. Jane said that Kevin ended up ghosting her soon after she gave birth to the baby and they don’t know where Kevin is, I told her that it was her problem to deal with and reminded her that Kevin was the guy she left me for. She begged me to help her because she had not gotten any sleep, and she’s basically on her own, her parents ended up kicking her out of their house after she gave birth. Jane said that cheating on me was her biggest mistake and that she doesn’t like being a single mom and taking care of a kid on her own, she asked me if I’m willing to take care of her kid as if it was my own. I got pissed and told her F off and that as far as her and I are concerned there is no her and I anymore. I said that her kid she made while cheating on me was not problem, I told her every ounce of love and respect I had for her died the moment I found about the cheating. In case most of you aren’t aware I was the unfortunate victim of being stood up at my own birthday party when I was 8. Nobody showed up, out of all of my friends I had, Jane was the only one who showed up. Jane left soon after while crying, her friends are now blasting me on social media for not stepping up and telling me that I’m not a real man after all that Jane has done for me, and that I owed it to her. They also said that even though she made a mistake she was there for me, so it would be horrible of me to not be there for her and the kid. So Reddit AITA?

I feel like I should feel content with the current friends I have, however I'm just not happy and have been feeling lonely as of late.
Im a 18M college student who's had to transfer from living in a dorm at university back to community college where I'm taking online classes only. Because of this, I've lost IRL touch with most of my friends. I still call them & enjoy talking to them. However, it doesn't feel the same as talking to them in person & they are usually busy so I end up talking to them wayy later. At the moment, I have very few IRL friends from highschool that I've hanged out with (really enjoying those times), but they've also gotten MUCH MORE busier with life stuff such as work or school.
I've had this really special-to-me hangout with a long distance female friend. I offered if she wanted to go to a 4 day local event + a place to stay so she didn't have to drive back & forth from her home (4+ hours). We enjoyed the event & plan on going to more in the long future :) But what I really enjoyed the most was the down-time in between the days where we were chillin together. We played some video games together and I felt like I was truly bonding with her. Plus, we tucked ourselves in a blanket on a bed while comfortably watching some K drama shows. Really, just platonically chilling in bed as we try out watching different kdrama episodes. This is by far my most cherishable experience as I've never done anything like this (closest being watching shows with friends over discord). We just vibed super comfortably. And I MISS THAT so much. She probably didn't think much of it but I've never felt so relaxed as that in a long time. Shes not my girlfriend nor do I have a crush on her, just a great friend that I occassionally talk to when she's not busy (usually is). But I really want someone to do that with again, someone new that I can hang out IRL & have more availability. But I obviously can't ask for someone & have them magically appear. It just happens.
With how a lot of my friends have gotten busy / distance from me in combination of one of my most cherisable moment has gotten myself to HATE MYSELF as I feel much more lonely. So far, I've been using it as some motivational fuel to go to the gym, study harder, and work on myself but DAMN I just HATE THIS FEELING that comes and goes all the time. I just wonder if I can meet someone that I can vibe & telax with on a couch / bed to watch shows and enjoy it while making fun remarks or talking / whatever more often...
I've never ranted like this before & have kept these kinds of feelings in check on my own. I've gone to therapy once but realized that I'm still a sane & functioning person and don't need it compared to others who may need it more than me. I guess I'm just at that age where shitty feelings PEAK & my lid of SHITTY feelings slightly leak. Im not depressed & Im not desperate to get a girlfriend as I dont think I'm ready until I work on my life. I feel like I want to be more MATURE but am stuck feeling like a CHILD even though I am technically an adult. I feel undeserving & selfish for wanting what seems like so much more to myself (socially, economically, and everything else). But I just wonder when things will change & how long would I have to endure these lonely + confusing feelings?
I JUST DON'T know. But, I hope I can meet more new friends as I take more in person classes & show up to some clubs in the future (though talking to new people in clubs is kinda difficulty when they've felt kinda cliquey as people seem to already have their groups).
Thanks for reading my rant I guess 🥲 Maybe I'll feel better the next few upcoming days, weeks, or months... I'll try to keep myself distracted in the meantime!

So long story on Tuesday my gf stayed home to watch our child who was sick. She is not feeling well also but made the effort to go to work. The past weekend she was on a cruise during Mother’s Day weekend and I took over the house duties as expected. Our son and I were also sick during the weekend some kind of chest cold while she was on her cruise she would FaceTime us. Right away she would assume I had an attitude when she called. Which I didn’t have an attitude. I explained that we both were feeling good and she would say not to make it about me. So during the mother day my son and I stayed in bed pretty much the whole day. Fast forward to Tuesday she stayed home because our some was still coughing and didn’t want to send him to school. I had to go to work while she worked from home. She was bothered by that I had to work and didn’t stay home while she worked. On Wednesday I stayed home and took over the child duties while she went into the office. Yesterday I attempted to do as much as I could to ease the chores around the house. I even made dinner even after not feeling too well myself. I didn’t complain just did what I had to do. When she got home from work I had dinner made and our wok at his dinner and even offered to make her a tea to ease her throat. I cleaned the kitchen and even gave our son a bath and got him ready to bed. So our son got super hyper and wasn’t going to bed easily. My gf was super cranky and kept saying things like I can’t drink my tea. And you guys are not allowing me to rest after she had been at work all day. So during that course our son threw up a little. No big deal. We got him changed and kept the task of putting him to bed. He again coughed a little bit and again a little vomit was there. So as I started to take his shirt off some vomit was in his hair and then she started to complain to me. I went off and said how else do you expect me to take his shirt off. I’ll clean him up relax. She got upset and started yelling at me on how I could go off on her when all she was doing was helping. I responded with you think by you saying your cranky and that we are not allowing you to rest is helping. Her response was I can be cranky and you just have to deal with it. I was line have been. But it got to a point of it being annoying now. We know you’re cranky and we are trying to asses the issue the best way we could. She then stated saying I don’t appreciate her and that I was wrong for going off.
I then walked over to the living room and slept on the couch because it’s obvious that she was feeling a certain type of way. And I didn’t want to continue to add more fuel to the fire. I also wasn’t feeling good and I just had enough. I tried to make her feel special and appreciated. And she said those are the minimum you could have done wife you stayed home. Mind you staying home with a sick child was not easy also. But I didn’t complain about it. The house was not a mess and everything she had to do was come home and have dinner.
How could I handled the situation better ?
TL;DR! Girlfriend is cranky and kept saying she is cranky. How else could I handle the issue even after trying to mar effort to ease her crankiness.

Source: https://www.bungie.net/7/en/News/Article/twid-05-16-2024
This week in Destiny, we are a little over two weeks away from the launch of The Final Shape. From The Witness to the Dread to Prismatic to Exotic class items, and more, there are so many things to be excited about. And today, we have even more to share with you, including some system updates and reworks that will also happen at launch. So, without further ado, let’s get into it!
Topics for this week:

• Weapons tuning recap.
  
• Build your arsenal shorts.
  
• Enhanced perk updates.
  
• Memento changes.
  
• Reduced Fragment costs at Ikora in The Final Shape
  
• New boss profile for The Pantheon.
  
• Zero Hour Exotic mission is live.
  
• METORO webcomic feature.
  
• Destiny 2 Content Vault updates.
  

Weapons Tuning Recap

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Yesterday, we shared details about our plans for weapons tuning in The Final Shape. This includes a change to some weapon mod specs, weapon balancing, and perk updates. For more details, check out our Dev Insight: Weapons Tuning Preview blog.

Build Your Arsenal

As the excitement for The Final Shape is ramping up, we’re sharing a first look at some of the Exotic weapons and armor you can expect to see. Check them out and start cooking up those builds!

Microcosm Heavy Ammo Trace Rifle
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Khostov Auto Rifle
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Mataidoxia Warlock Exotic Chest Armor
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Gifted Conviction Hunter Exotic Chest Armor
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Hazardous Propulsion Titan Exotic Chest Armor
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Enhancement in The Final Shape

During the Lightfall year, players have gotten a taste of weapon enhancement with the raid Adept weapons from Root of Nightmares and Crota's End. In The Final Shape, you'll see that this system has undergone some upgrades, making enhancing your weapons easier and allowing us to comfortably expand this system to include more weapons. Here’s a quick recap on how weapon enhancement will work alongside some of the changes:

• Weapon enhancement allows the weapon to be upgraded to receive enhanced traits, a weapon level, and a memento socket. To upgrade your weapon, players can navigate to the inspection screen and insert the enhancement tier mod for standard currencies (raid Adept weapons will continue to use Spoils of Conquest).

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• Enhancement Tier 1:
  
  • Replaces your Masterwork and provides the weapon with an enhanced intrinsic that matches the stat of your old Masterwork.
  • Provides a weapon level, a date when you first enhanced the weapon, and a memento socket.
  • Raid Adepts only: Since these weapons have a base-crafted version, we want the Adept versions to feel like a meaningful upgrade. Therefore, these weapons can visit the Relic on Mars to adjust their first two columns (typically barrels/magazines) in a similar fashion to how crafted weapons can augment these perk columns.
• Enhancement Tier 2 (weapon level 11 requirement):
  
  • Once the player inserts this mod, the left column trait(s) will automatically be upgraded to their enhanced perks. If you have multiple perks, this will update all traits in the column. Players will not need to visit the Relic on Mars to update these traits anymore.
• Enhancement Tier 3 (weapon level 17 requirement):
  
  • Once the player applies this mod, the right column weapon trait perks will automatically be updated to be enhanced. Like the left column, this will upgrade all of the traits present and does not require visiting the Relic.

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We've heard the feedback that weapons should have more avenues to acquire enhanced traits. In The Final Shape, all new weapons will either be craftable or have access to weapon enhancement. In addition, weapons that remain active drops in the following activities will be eligible for enhancement:

• Vow of the Disciple raid Adepts
  
• Guardian Games
  
• King's Fall raid Adepts
  
• Gambit
  
• Competitive Crucible (all of them)
  
• Trials of Osiris
  
• Crucible
  
• Iron Banner
  
• Vanguard Ops
  
• Nightfalls
  
• Prophecy Dungeon
  

This will include older instances of these weapons, as long as they have an origin trait. Unfortunately, due to some technical constraints, there are a handful of weapons instances from before Season 17 that have origin traits and are active drops, but they will not be eligible for weapon enhancement. If a weapon is not actively dropping in these activities and playlists or it’s under the legacy focusing options, it will not be enhance-able when The Final Shape releases. If weapons are reissued and become a part of a playlist's active drops once again, we'll update older versions that have origin traits to enter weapon enhancement.

Mementos in The Final Shape

We've received a lot of feedback on weapon mementos, especially as new mementos have released in our seasonal events. In The Final Shape, we have a few changes coming that impact how you store mementos and apply them to your weapons.

• Crafted and enhanced weapons will no longer need to visit the Relic on Mars to apply mementos. Players can apply the memento of their choosing directly in the weapon inspection screen.
  
• Memento stack cap limits will be raised from 1 to 3.
  
• Mementos will no longer be stored alongside the player's consumables. When The Final Shape launches, your mementos under consumables will show as faded. Then, once the faded memento is dismantled, you'll see +1 memento added in the weapon inspection screen as a virtual currency. For players who figured out how to get around the original memento stack size limits, this will allow you to dismantle all those mementos safely, even if you temporarily go over the intended stack limit of three. If you are holding three (or more) of a particular memento, it will not drop again until you spend your mementos to be under the stack size limit of three.
  

Reduced Fragment Costs at Ikora In The Final Shape

Subclass Fragments purchasable from Ikora are expensive, particularly considering how many there are, especially for New Lights. In The Final Shape, we have reduced the cost of Fragments from 25000 Glimmer to 10000 Glimmer. Our goal here is to make these vital build-crafting elements more accessible for new and returning players.

The Pantheon Grows Stronger

Another week, and your task has become more difficult, Guardians. Rhulk, Disciple of the Witness, has joined The Pantheon, and we’ve gathered intel for your mission.
VANGUARD – GUARDIAN DISPATCH – ALL POINTS BULLETIN
DEFENDERS OF THE CITY,
You are tasked with the elimination of the following target:

-RHULK, DISCIPLE OF THE WITNESS-
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CLASSIFICATION

• The last-known Lubraean
  
• First Disciple of the Witness
  
• Other names: The Upender, Worm Father
  
• Dread
  
• Resonant
  

HAZARDS

• Darkness mastery
  
• Immeasurable strength and durability
  
• Powerful Lubrae’s Ruin Glaive
  
• Suns of Lubrae attack and debuff
  
• Savage Strike kick
  
• Umbral Suffocation attack
  
• Teleportation
  
• Resonant Spikes area effect
  
• Guardians rated Sigma-3 or lower are advised not to engage
  

INTEL

• Rhulk was born on the planet Lubrae, a world originally blessed by the Traveler that spiraled into an authoritarian regime when the Traveler left. Fueled by rage, Rhulk sought to destroy the regime, but his bloodlust led to being ostracized from his clan. Eventually, afraid of what he’d become, his clan attempted to kill him.
  
• Decrypted records from the Pyramid indicate that the Witness made contact with Rhulk during this time, restored him, and empowered him as the first Disciple. Rhulk took his vengeance on Lubrae, annihilating its parent star and destroying the planet.
  
• Vanguard power assessments place Rhulk far above any previous enemy faced by any Guardian. Battle scholars theorize the bold fireteam that stormed the sunken Pyramid only prevailed due to Rhulk’s humoring a fight to begin with. But prevail they did.
  

OF NOTE

• Hidden cipher-sequences buried in the symbols throughout have been decrypted by a pioneering Cryptarch, thanks to countless fireteams keeping the way clear. The solved sequence is believed to be astronomical coordinates to Lubrae. (Probe dispatched… awaiting arrival.)
  
• The creation of the Hive was majorly influenced by Rhulk. The first Disciple of the Witness subjugated the Worm mother, Xita, and forced her spawn into union with the Krill, which led to the Hive species and the Hive Gods themselves.
  
• Cryptarchs have uncovered communications between Rhulk and Savathûn in which Savathûn derides Rhulk’s simplicity as a tactician. According to the Witch Queen, the first Disciple only values strength, and his downfall will be his brute force approach to every situation.
  

Zero Hour Exotic Mission Is Live

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The Zero Hour Exotic mission is now live. If you haven’t jumped in yet, you can find it in the Into the Light node in the Director. Completing the mission in the required timeframe will earn you the Outbreak Perfected Exotic Pulse Rifle.
As we mentioned last week, we’re celebrating the release by asking you to share your favorite moments with TR3-VR. Post your favorite art, screenshots, videos, or memes — anything that shows your love for our favorite overly attached robot. Just use the hashtag #MyFriendTR3VR. We’ll be giving our favorites an Art or Movie of the Week emblem and sharing your creations in a future TWID.

METORO Webcomic Feature

Do you like cute webcomics? Of course you do! Check out these weekly panels from Japanese webcomic artist METORO that detail her first journey into Destiny 2! Remember what it was like the first time you got your hands on the Gjallarhorn? How about your first raid? Piecing together the story behind the Light and Darkness saga? Well, METORO has put her Destiny 2 adventures into art form. You can catch her original work over on TwitteX in Japanese or read it translated into English below:

METORO Discovers Destiny 2

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METORO Challenges Onslaught

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METORO Teaches a History Lesson

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METORO Runs Vault of Glass

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METORO Takes on The Pantheon

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Player Support Report

"I would die for Archie” did not mean I wanted him to actively be the death of me.
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Known Issues List Help Forums Bungie Help Twitter

DESTINY CONTENT VAULT UPDATES

With the start of Year 7 of Destiny 2, on June 4 certain items will be deprecated from player inventories that correspond with vaulted activities and seasonal campaigns. They will then be moved into the Destiny Content Vault.
We have updated the Destiny Content Vault article to reflect these changes and created a new article fully outlining Items Being Deprecated at the Start of Year 7 for players to reference.

PARENTAL CONTROLS

Parents, guardians, and other responsible adults are now able to adjust their child’s Destiny 2 settings.
To set up parental controls, both the child and their adult need a Bungie.net account, and we will need to verify that the person providing consent and setting controls is an adult. We have created a Parental Controls Help article with details explaining how to create an account and instructions on linking it to your child's.
We have also updated our privacy policy. Please visit Bungie.net to create or manage your account and set your preferences today.

KNOWN ISSUES

While we continue investigating various known issues, here is a list of the latest issues that were reported to us in our #Help Forum:

• Capturing a zone in the Collision PvP game mode while having full super energy will slightly reduce Super energy.
  
• Tormentors can push turrets away in Onslaught with their slam or grab attacks.
  
• The Zero Deaths Triumph only unlocks when completing Zero Hour on the Legend difficulty, which should unlock on both Normal and Legend difficulties.
  

For a full list of emergent issues in Destiny 2, players can review our Known Issues article.
If you observe other issues, please report them to our #Help forum.

Who’s The Fairest Of Them All?

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This is what happens when someone asks you to draw your favorite Ghost Shell. The classic 77-way first-place tie.
Cheeese Lord on TwitteX
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A Titan’s Sacrifice

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Why does it always seem to be Titans dying in spectacular fashion? Is it because they are the bravest class, charging into battle to protect others without worrying about their own well-being? Uh... yeah, we can just go with that.
Movie of the Week:
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That’s everything we have for this week. Hopefully you’ve been having fun on the new PvP maps. We know there is a lot to do in these final weeks before The Final Shape, but if you haven’t checked the PvP maps out yet, jump into the New Territory playlist to give them a try. Not only are they beautiful and fun, you can also earn the Slaycation emblem by checking them out.
We’ll be back next week with another TWID and more details to share on The Final Shape. In the meantime, be good to each other, and thanks for hanging out with us.
Destiny 2 Community Team

Source: https://www.bungie.net/7/en/News/Article/twid-05-16-2024
This week in Destiny, we are a little over two weeks away from the launch of The Final Shape. From The Witness to the Dread to Prismatic to Exotic class items, and more, there are so many things to be excited about. And today, we have even more to share with you, including some system updates and reworks that will also happen at launch. So, without further ado, let’s get into it!
Topics for this week:

• Weapons tuning recap.
  
• Build your arsenal shorts.
  
• Enhanced perk updates.
  
• Memento changes.
  
• Reduced Fragment costs at Ikora in The Final Shape
  
• New boss profile for The Pantheon.
  
• Zero Hour Exotic mission is live.
  
• METORO webcomic feature.
  
• Destiny 2 Content Vault updates.
  

Weapons Tuning Recap

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Yesterday, we shared details about our plans for weapons tuning in The Final Shape. This includes a change to some weapon mod specs, weapon balancing, and perk updates. For more details, check out our Dev Insight: Weapons Tuning Preview blog.

Build Your Arsenal

As the excitement for The Final Shape is ramping up, we’re sharing a first look at some of the Exotic weapons and armor you can expect to see. Check them out and start cooking up those builds!

Microcosm Heavy Ammo Trace Rifle
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Khostov Auto Rifle
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Mataidoxia Warlock Exotic Chest Armor
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Gifted Conviction Hunter Exotic Chest Armor
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Hazardous Propulsion Titan Exotic Chest Armor
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Enhancement in The Final Shape

During the Lightfall year, players have gotten a taste of weapon enhancement with the raid Adept weapons from Root of Nightmares and Crota's End. In The Final Shape, you'll see that this system has undergone some upgrades, making enhancing your weapons easier and allowing us to comfortably expand this system to include more weapons. Here’s a quick recap on how weapon enhancement will work alongside some of the changes:

• Weapon enhancement allows the weapon to be upgraded to receive enhanced traits, a weapon level, and a memento socket. To upgrade your weapon, players can navigate to the inspection screen and insert the enhancement tier mod for standard currencies (raid Adept weapons will continue to use Spoils of Conquest).

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• Enhancement Tier 1:
  
  • Replaces your Masterwork and provides the weapon with an enhanced intrinsic that matches the stat of your old Masterwork.
  • Provides a weapon level, a date when you first enhanced the weapon, and a memento socket.
  • Raid Adepts only: Since these weapons have a base-crafted version, we want the Adept versions to feel like a meaningful upgrade. Therefore, these weapons can visit the Relic on Mars to adjust their first two columns (typically barrels/magazines) in a similar fashion to how crafted weapons can augment these perk columns.
• Enhancement Tier 2 (weapon level 11 requirement):
  
  • Once the player inserts this mod, the left column trait(s) will automatically be upgraded to their enhanced perks. If you have multiple perks, this will update all traits in the column. Players will not need to visit the Relic on Mars to update these traits anymore.
• Enhancement Tier 3 (weapon level 17 requirement):
  
  • Once the player applies this mod, the right column weapon trait perks will automatically be updated to be enhanced. Like the left column, this will upgrade all of the traits present and does not require visiting the Relic.

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We've heard the feedback that weapons should have more avenues to acquire enhanced traits. In The Final Shape, all new weapons will either be craftable or have access to weapon enhancement. In addition, weapons that remain active drops in the following activities will be eligible for enhancement:

• Vow of the Disciple raid Adepts
  
• Guardian Games
  
• King's Fall raid Adepts
  
• Gambit
  
• Competitive Crucible (all of them)
  
• Trials of Osiris
  
• Crucible
  
• Iron Banner
  
• Vanguard Ops
  
• Nightfalls
  
• Prophecy Dungeon
  

This will include older instances of these weapons, as long as they have an origin trait. Unfortunately, due to some technical constraints, there are a handful of weapons instances from before Season 17 that have origin traits and are active drops, but they will not be eligible for weapon enhancement. If a weapon is not actively dropping in these activities and playlists or it’s under the legacy focusing options, it will not be enhance-able when The Final Shape releases. If weapons are reissued and become a part of a playlist's active drops once again, we'll update older versions that have origin traits to enter weapon enhancement.

Mementos in The Final Shape

We've received a lot of feedback on weapon mementos, especially as new mementos have released in our seasonal events. In The Final Shape, we have a few changes coming that impact how you store mementos and apply them to your weapons.

• Crafted and enhanced weapons will no longer need to visit the Relic on Mars to apply mementos. Players can apply the memento of their choosing directly in the weapon inspection screen.
  
• Memento stack cap limits will be raised from 1 to 3.
  
• Mementos will no longer be stored alongside the player's consumables. When The Final Shape launches, your mementos under consumables will show as faded. Then, once the faded memento is dismantled, you'll see +1 memento added in the weapon inspection screen as a virtual currency. For players who figured out how to get around the original memento stack size limits, this will allow you to dismantle all those mementos safely, even if you temporarily go over the intended stack limit of three. If you are holding three (or more) of a particular memento, it will not drop again until you spend your mementos to be under the stack size limit of three.
  

Reduced Fragment Costs at Ikora In The Final Shape

Subclass Fragments purchasable from Ikora are expensive, particularly considering how many there are, especially for New Lights. In The Final Shape, we have reduced the cost of Fragments from 25000 Glimmer to 10000 Glimmer. Our goal here is to make these vital build-crafting elements more accessible for new and returning players.

The Pantheon Grows Stronger

Another week, and your task has become more difficult, Guardians. Rhulk, Disciple of the Witness, has joined The Pantheon, and we’ve gathered intel for your mission.
VANGUARD – GUARDIAN DISPATCH – ALL POINTS BULLETIN
DEFENDERS OF THE CITY,
You are tasked with the elimination of the following target:

-RHULK, DISCIPLE OF THE WITNESS-
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CLASSIFICATION

• The last-known Lubraean
  
• First Disciple of the Witness
  
• Other names: The Upender, Worm Father
  
• Dread
  
• Resonant
  

HAZARDS

• Darkness mastery
  
• Immeasurable strength and durability
  
• Powerful Lubrae’s Ruin Glaive
  
• Suns of Lubrae attack and debuff
  
• Savage Strike kick
  
• Umbral Suffocation attack
  
• Teleportation
  
• Resonant Spikes area effect
  
• Guardians rated Sigma-3 or lower are advised not to engage
  

INTEL

• Rhulk was born on the planet Lubrae, a world originally blessed by the Traveler that spiraled into an authoritarian regime when the Traveler left. Fueled by rage, Rhulk sought to destroy the regime, but his bloodlust led to being ostracized from his clan. Eventually, afraid of what he’d become, his clan attempted to kill him.
  
• Decrypted records from the Pyramid indicate that the Witness made contact with Rhulk during this time, restored him, and empowered him as the first Disciple. Rhulk took his vengeance on Lubrae, annihilating its parent star and destroying the planet.
  
• Vanguard power assessments place Rhulk far above any previous enemy faced by any Guardian. Battle scholars theorize the bold fireteam that stormed the sunken Pyramid only prevailed due to Rhulk’s humoring a fight to begin with. But prevail they did.
  

OF NOTE

• Hidden cipher-sequences buried in the symbols throughout have been decrypted by a pioneering Cryptarch, thanks to countless fireteams keeping the way clear. The solved sequence is believed to be astronomical coordinates to Lubrae. (Probe dispatched… awaiting arrival.)
  
• The creation of the Hive was majorly influenced by Rhulk. The first Disciple of the Witness subjugated the Worm mother, Xita, and forced her spawn into union with the Krill, which led to the Hive species and the Hive Gods themselves.
  
• Cryptarchs have uncovered communications between Rhulk and Savathûn in which Savathûn derides Rhulk’s simplicity as a tactician. According to the Witch Queen, the first Disciple only values strength, and his downfall will be his brute force approach to every situation.
  

Zero Hour Exotic Mission Is Live

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The Zero Hour Exotic mission is now live. If you haven’t jumped in yet, you can find it in the Into the Light node in the Director. Completing the mission in the required timeframe will earn you the Outbreak Perfected Exotic Pulse Rifle.
As we mentioned last week, we’re celebrating the release by asking you to share your favorite moments with TR3-VR. Post your favorite art, screenshots, videos, or memes — anything that shows your love for our favorite overly attached robot. Just use the hashtag #MyFriendTR3VR. We’ll be giving our favorites an Art or Movie of the Week emblem and sharing your creations in a future TWID.

METORO Webcomic Feature

Do you like cute webcomics? Of course you do! Check out these weekly panels from Japanese webcomic artist METORO that detail her first journey into Destiny 2! Remember what it was like the first time you got your hands on the Gjallarhorn? How about your first raid? Piecing together the story behind the Light and Darkness saga? Well, METORO has put her Destiny 2 adventures into art form. You can catch her original work over on TwitteX in Japanese or read it translated into English below:

METORO Discovers Destiny 2

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METORO Challenges Onslaught

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METORO Teaches a History Lesson

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METORO Runs Vault of Glass

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METORO Takes on The Pantheon

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Player Support Report

"I would die for Archie” did not mean I wanted him to actively be the death of me.
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Known Issues List Help Forums Bungie Help Twitter

DESTINY CONTENT VAULT UPDATES

With the start of Year 7 of Destiny 2, on June 4 certain items will be deprecated from player inventories that correspond with vaulted activities and seasonal campaigns. They will then be moved into the Destiny Content Vault.
We have updated the Destiny Content Vault article to reflect these changes and created a new article fully outlining Items Being Deprecated at the Start of Year 7 for players to reference.

PARENTAL CONTROLS

Parents, guardians, and other responsible adults are now able to adjust their child’s Destiny 2 settings.
To set up parental controls, both the child and their adult need a Bungie.net account, and we will need to verify that the person providing consent and setting controls is an adult. We have created a Parental Controls Help article with details explaining how to create an account and instructions on linking it to your child's.
We have also updated our privacy policy. Please visit Bungie.net to create or manage your account and set your preferences today.

KNOWN ISSUES

While we continue investigating various known issues, here is a list of the latest issues that were reported to us in our #Help Forum:

• Capturing a zone in the Collision PvP game mode while having full super energy will slightly reduce Super energy.
  
• Tormentors can push turrets away in Onslaught with their slam or grab attacks.
  
• The Zero Deaths Triumph only unlocks when completing Zero Hour on the Legend difficulty, which should unlock on both Normal and Legend difficulties.
  

For a full list of emergent issues in Destiny 2, players can review our Known Issues article.
If you observe other issues, please report them to our #Help forum.

Who’s The Fairest Of Them All?

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This is what happens when someone asks you to draw your favorite Ghost Shell. The classic 77-way first-place tie.
Cheeese Lord on TwitteX
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A Titan’s Sacrifice

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Why does it always seem to be Titans dying in spectacular fashion? Is it because they are the bravest class, charging into battle to protect others without worrying about their own well-being? Uh... yeah, we can just go with that.
Movie of the Week:
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Image Link^{imgur](https://twitter.com/famtom98/status/1788074319693992317)}
That’s everything we have for this week. Hopefully you’ve been having fun on the new PvP maps. We know there is a lot to do in these final weeks before The Final Shape, but if you haven’t checked the PvP maps out yet, jump into the New Territory playlist to give them a try. Not only are they beautiful and fun, you can also earn the Slaycation emblem by checking them out.
We’ll be back next week with another TWID and more details to share on The Final Shape. In the meantime, be good to each other, and thanks for hanging out with us.
Destiny 2 Community Team

For the past year I’ve been dating my gf. We met in 8th grade at the time she had a boyfriend so whenever I would make advances they’d just get shut down. We rekindled my senior year of high school when I discovered her instagram page. At the time I didn’t know if she was currently in a relationship and didn’t really care to ask. We made small talk here and there but never anything flirtatious or sexually suggestive. One day she texted me and asked if I wanted her to hook me up with one of her friends, so of course me being me I accepted the offer. She then proceeded to ask me if I was a cheater, I told her no. She then asked for my number to put us into contact and right after I sent it. She texted me on iMessage stating that she thinks we’d make a good couple. I had been tricked. And in this moment when I read her text I couldn’t help but feel like the nice guy who finished last and got what was left over. we started chatting again more frequently and this was probably at the peak of my “hoe phase” I had just recently got a car gifted to me by my loving parents. So as a horny teen who just recently graduated I was doing bad. Seeing girls daily (intimately) sometimes even two. So as you could imagine I was not in the mental head space to jump into a relationship especially seeing that I’ve never been in one. Mind you she knew the type of guy I was, Because during my “hoe phase” I would publicize me going on dates with various girls on my instagram story cause I thought it was cool and my buddies would always ask how can I maneuver so carelessly and still have women that still put up with me. Around this time we weren’t in a relationship yet so their wasn’t any consequences for my actions. She’d see it complain then brush it off. But seeing that I did use to like this girl a lot…and I mean a lot, Just to put it into perspective for you on how delusional and down bad I was. When we first started chatting again, I went to our old Snapchat messages and reread every single one which took about 3 hours and they were so cringey and sappy to me that I took the time to delete every single one. (She was one of those weird people who’d saved the messages instead of letting them automatically delete after 24 hours) I felt like I had to do this because I didn’t want her to have any recollection of that desperate version of myself. Fast forward a few weeks and we went on our first date. I decided to take things slow with her by limiting myself to only kissing and fingering her. Then About a month after that is when we first had sex. And it felt exactly like I expected it to…magical. It was like we were two bodies who were meant for each other that finally met. Fast forward a few more months now it’s time for her to go off to college and when she left I slowly started reverting back into my old ways of seeing multiple girls a week and being promiscuous. This continued up until about January the next year when I got caught. Long story short, she cried I cried and we both decided that we’d like to move forward. During this season of our relationship I was constantly feeling guilt so much to the point where I ever considered suicide. I was constantly in my head saying things like “is it even worth it” “she probably doing it too and you just don’t know” “leave her” “it’ll never work” “you won’t regain her trust” “our relationship is irreparable” “don’t waste anymore of your youthful years on this failing relationship”. And with due time these negative thoughts stopped consuming my mind and we actually started doing better. I quit my job moved in with her and started working remotely. At this point in my life I couldn’t be any happier. It felt like a dream come true. All it took was one weekend and all of this ended. At this point it’s around spring break so all the surrounding colleges are having parties. I devised a plan to pick all the boys and go on a little road trip. We hit different colleges daily to party, drink and smoke and the biggest of incentive all, to meet girls. Looking back on it, this was a recipe for disaster. On one particular night I uploaded a video of me getting twerked on my by a girl to my close friends on instagram not remembering that she was still included in it. And before I could even sober up and realize what the fuck I’ve just done she eventually saw it and messaged me stating that this is her last time and “we’re done”. In this moment when I read the text while being drunk & high I just couldn’t find it in me to care or fight for our relationship. So I just thought to myself “ok”. As the night proceeded I found myself in some random suite where a girl approached me and began express her interest in me and long story short I ended up cheating. When all the fun was over and I dropped all the guys back home. I was still tasked with having to drive my girlfriend m back to her dorm cause she stayed with family for the weekend. I didn’t want to take her but no other buses were departing and everyone who she could’ve possibly asked was already preoccupied or just didn’t feel like doing a 4 hour drive there and back. And plus before all this turmoil I had already promised to her that I’d drive her back. I go to pick her up and she’s all moody and for the first 3 hours of the ride she gives me silent treatment. And the first words out of her mouth were “you know when we get back to my dorm you’re packing your shit and leaving right?” At first I didn’t respond. I laughed actually, not hysterically but more of a “wow after all we been thru you’re really ending this?” Laugh. All types of thoughts started racing thru my head. Part of me wanted to serve the car in front of an oncoming 18 wheeler but then I remembered that she’s still here with me and as ironic as it sounds I’d never want to hurt her, especially in a way that could result in fatality. The laughing slowly turned into silent tears. The pain I was feeling in my stomach was so excruciating it felt as if I had just been stabbed with a 10 foot sword repeatedly over and over and over again. I eventually started uncontrollably crying and spewing out my feelings. While doing this I confessed to cheating on her and told how I’d been long before that weekend. I pulled over to the side of the interstate in the middle of nowhere with no reception got out and just started crying even harder so she couldn’t see. I felt like my life had been ruined and the only person I could blame for it was myself. I eventually got back in and started driving in silence again. After all that crying with the added partying the past week and weekend I must’ve been real tired cause I started to doze off which I usually don’t. I’ve taken the drive enough to become accustomed to it and have built up enough stamina to make it all the way through without having to fight the feeling of tiredness. She noticed this and offered to take the wheel which I respectfully declined. I then told her I’d be pulling over to the side of the road to catch a quick 2 minute nap. I typically do this whenever I’m on extra long drives and my friends know me for it. I set a 2 minute timer on my phone and let my body temporarily rejuvenate as much as possible. And chances are they usually fall asleep too. Because I’d literally rather trust myself to drive tired before I let one of my unlicensed friends behind the wheel. I put my head down for what felt like 10 seconds and woke up to her nudging my shoulder saying that 7 minutes have passed. This bothered me because if I was so tired to the point I myself didn’t hear the alarm she should have came to the realization that I was genuinely tired and let me rest a little longer. But because it was her birthday she probably overlooked this aspect of my situation because she was just tooeager to get to her own birthday party that her friends had started without her. I began driving again will still tired and now aggravated from being woken up. I began to speed at this point we’re 40 miles away from our destination. The tiredness began to take over again and before I knew it I wake up to the screaming of my name as the car is slowly drifting off the road and I’m stuck in mud on the side of the interstate. A state trooper and tow truck arrive to assess the situation and we end up taking a Uber the rest of the way. At this point I’m stranded. I spent my last on tow truck fees and don’t even have anything saved up to pay for the mechanic fees, let alone worry about gas money. We somehow managed talk and temporarily bandaid the under lying issue and sleep in the same bed that night but things progressively kept on getting worse and worse as the days went on. It got so bad to the point where we slept in different rooms, Or so I thought. The morning after I go into her room to check on her and see paper towels and her sitting up still crying in the same position she was the night before. I on the other hand actually slept pretty well. She then came into my room still with water in her cute pearly big eyes. And to my surprise sat down directly on my lap and told me how she couldn’t get no sleep. We hugged and talked and cried then ultimately came to the conclusion that our relationship is worth more than my stupid mistakes and I have some more maturing to do.

I recently tried offing myself because of school stress and my girlfriend breaking up with me and was stopped by my older brother and best friend of 6-7 years my cash app is $jonyboy556 for anyone who wants to show their support
Hello I’m (anonymous) I’m 15yo M and on may 14th 2024 i attempted suicide and was stopped by my older brother (anonymous) and my best friend (anonymous), I wanted to do it because of all the pent up stress and my girlfriend had just left me that morning. I concluded in my own mind that it would be better for everyone if I was dead, sure they would miss me for a while but everyone else would go on living and contributing to society. I felt sure that I contributed little to nothing to society. I decided that if I could write 15 reasons I would do it if I couldn’t I wouldn’t and I easily came up with 15 good reasons. After I had constructed my note of 15 reasons, and thanks to my few friends who had always been there and family members who were a key part in my life, I went to my room grabbed the 22 cal. Rifle and the magazine that went to it which had about 4 or 5 rounds of ammunition contained within it I walked as far into the woods as I could while still staying invisible to the road. As I sat between two trees I sat the note at my feet hugging the gun like a family member unseen in years. I contemplated life for about 3 minutes when I called my best friend and said my goodbyes without saying them. I then called the girl I broke up with and had roughly a 1-2 min conversation with her and she told me “well just call me if you feel like doing anything” in which I responded “I just did” I don’t know if she herd me, then told her goodbye and hung up. As I held the gun in my mouth about to pull the trigger my phone was being called by my best friend and I answered, he asked me why I was in the woods on life 360 which is a family location sharing app. I responded “why wouldn’t I be” he responded with silence “…” I then said “I’m sorry (anonymous) I just can’t anymore” not knowing he had already contacted my mom which was spamming my phone the whole time. Telling her a short but obvious message “please stop him” and without my knowledge my brother had been walking throughout the yard looking for me apparently he noticed almost immediately that I was gone. After some point in talking to Markez I started crying, not long after my brother saw me sitting between the two trees and Yelled my name And ran to me as fast as he could, he then took the gun from me and hugged me and said “I know it’s hard I’ve been here before don’t do it i doesn’t have to come to that” I responded with the only thing I could sobbing and saying “I’m sorry” over and over again while clutching him tightly, he took the gun and threw it to the side and continued hugging me after about a minute he got up grabbing the gun and said “I’ve already lost to of my really good friends to suicide this year, please don’t make me lose you too” I responded again with “I’m sorry” while crying still. he told me that he wouldn’t read the note and to just ball it up and told me to take as much time as I needed outside. After he was done talking he walked with the gun to the house. After about 10 minutes outside my parents arrived home and my mom and dad comforted me and told me I should never do that. It’s been 2 days since then and it’s still the only thing I think about, I feel bad for my brother I can only wonder what went through his mind. I wonder what if my best friend hadn’t stalled me how my brother would have found me and how that would have affected him and his life. Would he have blamed himself? would he have used that same gun to suffer the same fate? If he wouldn’t have how would it change his life? And how would my parents react? I can only thank god for everyone at the same time trying to stop me, I had prayed for forgiveness before I was about to do it and u apologized to him. My lord had to have heard my cries and saved me without me even having to ask. I thank my brother, and my best friend as-well my brother most because he noticed almost immediately and took action, stopping what was almost inevitable.

As the last orange light of day drained from the sky, the living dead in Club Vlad rose. Max the skeleton and Jessie the…not skeleton…sewed up the gaping Y-shaped incision on Dom’s chest under Merrick’s direct supervision. Dom sat there, feeling nothing, thinking nothing. He’d woken with a headache and a feeling of cold, and even now, he could feel the dull throb above his left eye. It felt like someone was tearing his brain apart with a fork. He had told Merrick, and Merrick had nodded sadly. “Is my brain rotting?”
“Most likely,” Merrick had said.
There was a certain peace in the idea of losing his cursed humanity. As Merrick had said, he would feel no pain, know no quandaries. He would live only for the night and for his master. On the other hand, watching someone like Matt sit and stare into the distance, drool coursing down his chin and nothing happening behind his dead eyes, scared Dom. He didn’t want to be a braindead idiot. He didn’t care about keeping his emotions, he just wanted to function.
Like Merrick.
There wasn’t much he could do, however. He was dead and that was the end of it.
Once Dom was patched up and dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie, Merrick called his children before him. “I have done my best to love and protect all of you,” he began. “Jessie, you were miserable with your grandmother, were you not?”
“Yes,” Jessie said tonelessly.
“You were depressed, bipolar, and cut yourself. Now you’re happy.”
“Yes,” she replied again.
“Joe, you were a two bit nobody staring down a ten year stretch in jail.”
“Yes.” Thin yellow liquid dripped from his nose.
“But now you are free.”
“Yes.”
“You appreciate what I’ve done for you.”
“Yes.”
Merrick flashed then, slamming his fist onto the arm of his wheelchair. “Then why do you keep fucking up? The police were here earlier. They have messages between you and Jessie. I told both of you to delete those. Then I find out that you bit someone and turned them despite my orders. We have an endless supply of blood here but you still went off on your own. How many are there?”
“Just one,” Joe said.
“Are you being honest with me?”
“Yes.”
Merrick sagged back in his chair, looking somehow older. “Joe, take Matt and go to her. Bring her back here before she causes any more problems. God alone knows how many people she’s changed. Too many vampires without a father will bring heat on us, and you know what happens in that case? We get pieces of wood shoved in our chests.”
Turning to Dom, Merrick said, “I have a job for you and Jessie. We’re nearly out of embalming fluid. You haven’t had your first dose and the rest of us are starting to get ripe as well. I have a contact at a funeral home. He texted earlier that the order he placed on my behalf has come in. I want you to pick it up and to pay him.”
Dom had never been picked for anything in his whole life. No one had ever wanted him on their team and no one had ever placed their trust in him the way Merrick was now. He was honored, proud, and would do anything to not let Merrick down.
“That cop who came here might be a problem,” Merrick went on. “We may have to deal with him, but we’ll leave that for another night. In any case, I want this place cleaned from top to bottom. If the police come, I want them to see nothing out of the ordinary.”
Now that everyone had their marching orders, they dispersed. Merrick handed Dom an evelope stuffed with cash, and Dom slipped it into the pocket of his hoodie. The other team - Joe and Matt - left, while the remaining vampires began tidying up.
A fleet of vehicles waited in the parking lot behind Club Vlad. Dom and Jessie took a black pedo van with no back windows. They drove in silence, the radio off. Dom did not want to hear music, nor did he wish to speak to Jessie. Their kinship was one of blood and circumstance, not one of words and emotions. He had no questions for her and wished to answer none of his own. The only thoughts he had were of the mission ahead and of the growing pain in his skull. He thought of the staring stupid Matt, of the decayed Max, and a shiver went down his spine.
What was left of his humanity recoiled at the idea of becoming like them.
The pain grew hotter, more intense. He forced it away and focused on driving.
The funeral home was on North Allen Street, next to a restaurant called Pepperjack’s. A tall, white house with dark shutters and a sign out front, it looked like a quiet, peaceful place. “Pull around back,” Jessie said.
Dom pulled the van around back and parked under a balcony, killing the headlights. They got out and went to the back door, Jessie in the lead. He assumed that she had done this before and that the seller would recognize her. She knocked, and a few moments later, the door opened. A youngish man with a shaved head appeared, wearing an apron and gloves. He saw them and tensed a little. Dom could smell, rather than sense, his fear, and his throat panged with thirst. “Come on,” the man said quickly. He stepped aside and allowed them to enter. Dom noticed that he walked behind them, wary of putting his back to them. “Do you have the money?”
“Do you have our order?” Jessie countered.
“Yes,” the man said, “I’m really risking my neck for this. They don’t just give embalming fluid away, you know. They keep track of it and if they realize I’m over ordering, someone from the state’s going to come down here and check.”
He led them into an embalming room. Three boxes sat on a table. Dom gave the man his money, and he and Jessie carried the boxes outside, loading them into the van. The whole time they were there, the man was edgy, like he was afraid they were going to attack him. Dom would be a liar if he said that the hot smell of the man’s blood didn’t excite him. Perhaps once his brain rotted away, he wouldn’t be able to control himself, but for now, he could.
A lightning bolt of pain shot through his head and he nearly dropped the last box onto the ground.
Once the man was paid, Dom and Jessie drove back to Club Vlad. In fifteen minutes, they were drinking side by side from two passed out partygoers, their reward for a job well done.
Meanwhile, across the city, Joe and Matt weren’t doing as well. They were standing outside of Heather’s apartment. Joe, slightly annoyed (anger being another emotion vampires could feel, along with fear) pounded on the door. He knew she was in there; he could smell the putrid odor of decay. “Let us in,” he said. “We won’t hurt you.”
Joe could barely remember changing her. He didn’t mean to, it just…happened. Like an unwanted pregnancy. You can bite someone as much as you want and drink as much as you want, but if you take too much at once and they die, you get the vampire equivalent of a baby. Joe liked the hunt. It was exciting. Having his meals brought to him Club Vlad didn’t arouse the same level of excitement. It was like shooting an animal tied to a tree. Or hiring a prostitute instead of wooing someone. No real satisfaction to it.
That was probably his greatest downfall. He had lured Jessie the same way, though Merrick was indeed interested in rescuing her from her grandmother. People you have saved obey just as well as people with no brains.
He felt fluid on his upper lip and sniffed. “Come on, let us in,” he said.
No response.
He looked at Matt and nodded to the door. Together, they rammed their shoulders against it. It shook in its frame. They were both dead and weak, but modern American architecture is even weaker, and the door eventually slammed open. The apartment beyond was dark, messy, and reeked of death. They searched high and low, and eventually found Heather huddled in a corner, trying to hide. She was naked save for a pair of panties, her body bloated and beginning to turn black. Her skin hung from her frame and her eyes were filled with blood and fear. It was a wonder no one had called the police yet. The smell was overpowering. “We’re here to help,” he said. “You have to come with us.”
She shook her head and trembled. Maybe she remembered that he was the one who did this to her. Maybe her memories had rotted away. Those were usually the first to go. Then your emotions, then your personality. Finally, your capacity for higher reasoning. “I’m sorry I did this to you,” he said. That was a lie. He was not remorseful. Nor was he proud, for that matter. It just happened. Like rain. “But I want to help you. We can fix you.”
No amount of coaxing or conjoling could induce her to move. Joe weighed his options. He doubted anyone would call the cops even if they heard the door coming down - people who lived in places like this rarely called the cops, which helped Joe and his cause immensely. Even so, there was the possibility. Every minute they spent here was a minute that something could go wrong, and Joe had a lot to lose.
So, too, did Merrick.
Giving up, Joe took out his cellphone and called Merrick. “She refuses to come,” he said simply.
The line was quiet for a moment, then Merrick’s voice came back. Cold. Calculating. “Then do what you must.”
That was the go ahead.
Hanging up, Joe looked around the apartment and found a wooden chair in the kitchen. He lifted it over his head and slammed it on the counter, shattering it into a million pieces. He selected the longest, sharpest, and sturdiest looking one. He went back into the room and directed Matt to hold her down. She fought, kicked, and spat, but she was weaker than even they were. They had been embalmed. She hadn’t.
Matt pinned her hands above her head and Joe straddled her. Animal terror filled her eyes and she whipped her head from side to side. Joe lifted the makeshift stake with both hands, and brought it down as hard as he could, driving it deep into her heart. Her eyes bulged from their sockets and a high, otherworldly scream ripped from her throat. She bucked, thrashed, and kicked her feet. Her resistance began to ebb away until she was twitching…until she was still.
Heather from OKCupid was dead.
Truly dead.
Joe couldn’t help wondering what it was like.
Pulling the stake out, he tossed it aside and got to his feet, Matt doing likewise. A soul petrifying scream might be cause for even the tightest of lips to start talking. “Let’s go,” he said. And together, he and Matt fled, leaving the poor, dead body of Heather behind.
***
As it turned out, one of Heather’s neighbors did call the cops. At 10;13pm, Vanessa Rodregiez arrived with two patrolmen and found the front door of Apartment 237 knocked down. Guns drawn, they entered, Vanessa at the head. The first thing she noticed was the smell. It jammed itself into her nostrils, shoved its tongue down her throat, and violated her - all without even buying her dinner first.
Vanessa hadn’t been at this as long as her buddy Bruce had, but she knew a dead, rotting body when she smelled one. They searched the premises, and sure enough, they found a vic in the bedroom, lying in the gap between the bed and the wall; it looked like the former had been moved, perhaps in a struggle. Vanessa knelt down to check the vic’s pulse, but stopped.
There was no need.
The vic - who looked like a female but could have been an overweight male - hadn’t had a pulse in a very long time.
Examining the body, Vanessa found a wound in the chest, just above the heart. Black, stinking goo leaked from it, and Vanessa gagged. She fisted her hand to her mouth, retched, and then ran for the kitchen sink. Her partner for the night, Jim Walsh, stared down at the stiff before him, and his face turned a sickly shade of green. He avoided puking because he didn’t nose fuck the wound like Vanessa had, but he wasted no time in getting out there, dry heaving in the hallway where the air was somewhat fresh.
After leaving her lunch in the sink, Vanessa radioed back to headquarters, and before long, the place was crawling with cops. The assistant medical examiner - who had taken over after Ed Harris quit the previous night - knelt over the body and studied it. A solidly built black man with a mustache, his name was Leon and he knew death just as well as his old boss, so when he said the vic had been dead nearly two weeks, Vanessa accepted it.
That begged the question: Who broke in and screamed just now? A relative? The caller clearly heard screaming and peeked out her door to see two males fleeing on foot. Maybe they found the vic and freaked out? Or maybe they were the killers returning to the scene of the crime. After all, the vic had clearly been murdered.
In fact, they found a likely murder weapon. A long sliver of wood soaked in black goo. Blood turns black after a while, but there was something different about this stuff. “What is it?” Vanessa asked Leon.
“I’m not sure,” Leon said and pulled off a pair of Latex gloves he’d donned to examine the vic, “could be blood or…”
“Or what?” Vanessa asked.
“Or something,” Leon said. “Give me a few hours.”
And a few hours it was. Just before 1am, Leon called Vanessa at her desk. “I think you should come down here,” he said.
Fifteen minutes later, Vanessa stood over Leon as he pulled the vic’s chest open with a pair of tweezers. “That’s the heart,” he said, “whoever stabbed her scored a direct hit, but this…this is what concerns me.”
He prodded a furry lump with the tip of his scalpel.
“What is it?” Vanessa asked.
“I don’t know,” he said, “it looks like mold.”
That word - mold - triggered a memory in her brain. “Ed said something about mold last night. He found it in -”
“The Mason boy,” Leon finished.
“Yeah. The one who got up and ran off.”
Leon turned away from Vanessa and looked at the dead woman - for it was a woman. Vanessa got the impression that he didn’t want her to see his expression. “I’ve known Ed ten years. I know something happened last night, but a stiff getting up and walking off? I thought he was confused. Now…I don’t know. That makes two bodies in 24 hours. And get this. The chest wound? It was done post-mortem. I can’t find a cause of death anywhere. Except maybe blood loss but it’s hard to tell at this point. And speaking of blood…”
“What?” Vanessa asked quickly.
“When I opened her stomach up, a whole shit load of blood spilled out. And a lot of it was a lot fresher than she is.”
Vanessa furrowed her brow in confusion. “You mean…?”
“It’s not hers,” Leon said. “I can’t be 100 percent sure until I run tests, but I’d put money on it.”
Vanessa’s head spun with information both new and old. You know that full, heavy feeling you get when a poo is brewing in your guts? That’s kind of what Vanessa was feeling, only in her head instead of her stomach.
Leon was just as mystified by the whole thing as she was and stayed up late to run a few preliminary tests. By sunrise, he had confirmed that the blood inside of Heather’s stomach was not hers. In fact, it had come from at least three different sources. “Is it human?” Vanessa asked over the phone.
“Yes,” Leon said, sounding troubled, “it’s human.”
In the cobalt hour before sunrise, Vanessa sat at her desk and tried to piece this whole thing together. They had:

1. A corpse that (allegedly) woke up and dipped out
2. A dead girl who’d been stabbed in the heart with a piece of wood after somehow ingesting the blood of three different people.
3. Some missing kids
4. Oh, and both bodies - the girl’s and the runaway corpses’ - had the same weird fungus in their heart cavities.

All of this - even the missing kids, Vanessa felt - was related. She just didn’t know how. The only answer that half way fit was that both of those bodies were vampires. Like…what’s a vampire but a dead body that gets up and walks around at night? And how do you kill a vampire? Why, you drive a piece of wood through its heart.
The idea that vampires were real was dumb, but the more she turned it over in her mind, the more she became convinced that it was at least an option. A lot of things people thought were fantastic and made up turned out to be real, so why not vampires too?
Shortly after 8, Bruce came in. He was just sitting down when Vanessa came in and slapped her report on the desk. “Buckle up, bitch,” she said, “things just got weirder.”
He stared up at her with one of those grumpy - but cute -expressions he was so good at putting on. As he read, however, his brow knitted. “Jesus,” he muttered to himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a weary sigh.
“I have a theory - kind of,” Vanessa said, “but I don’t want to say it.”
“You might as well,” Bruce said. “It can’t be more kooky than reality these days.”
“Okay,” Vanessa started, “what if - and I’m just thinking out loud here - what if there are vampires in Albany?”
She expected Bruce to give her a dirty look, but he chewed it over, actually taking it seriously. “And those missing boys are victims?” he asked finally.
“Yeah,” Vanessa said. “That girl’s been dead two weeks. Maybe she bit Dominick Mason and he came back for revenge after realizing he was cursed to be a goddamn shit sucking vampire forever.”
Bruce nodded. “Yeah, but who turned her?”
“I don’t know,” Vanessa said, “I don’t know.”
***
Before dawn painted the eastern sky, Merrick Garvis sat in his chamber like a withered king, a mess of IVs hooked into his arms and neck. The vault was silent save for the soft noise of the machines as they filtered out the old embalming fluid and replaced it with new embalming fluid. Embalming fluid always made him spacy, like a drug. The others had gone first, and even now lay near comatose around him like addicts in an opium den.
As far as he knew, Merrick was the oldest vampire in the world, perhaps, even, the oldest vampire to ever live. Though he was not fully honest with Dom, he was not lying when he said that vampires rotted like any other dead thing. Conditions considered, you had a few weeks tops if left untreated. There may be living vampires in remote corners of Egypt or the northern most reaches of Russia, where the climate preserved dead things, but unless you made it to one of those places, you were pretty well fucked.
Merrick was not a proud man, nor was he concerned with saving face - the dead have no need for that. He was being truthful when he said that he feared death. What’s more, he feared being helpless. Deep down, vampires are people, and people don’t exactly have the greatest track record with caring for their infirm. He read once that the first sign of a civilization was a broken leg that had healed, as it showed that someone stayed with and cared for a fellow human long enough for them to get well again. In Merrick’s opinion, that was true…and thus there was no civilization. Merrick was fifty-one when he died in the year 1982. In his lifetime, he had seen The Great Depression, World War II, and a million small acts of cruelty and selfishness in between. He’d seen beggars starving in the streets, abused children shuffled out of sight and out of mind, and disdain for the poor and the weak.
The living were awful, and the living dead were no different. Once their humanity rotted away, they cared only about filling their stomachs. They were like ticks - they would drink until their bellies literally ruptured…and then keep on drinking.
That left him in a precarious position. He was old, his body was weak. He couldn’t stand unassisted and if left to fend for himself, he would decay into a pile of bones within days. He would be cursed to lay in one spot for all eternity, aware and hungry, little more than a ghost tethered to a black and still beating heart.
He refused to let that happen to him. Thus, he had created a family, a clan of vampires loyal to him and to him alone. He did this through acts of simple kindness and understanding…but also through deception. He knew, for instance, how to preserve the brain. He’d figured out how to do it early on - you pickle it. Like a fetus preserved in a jar. He sawed off the top of his own head and filled it with a special solution that kept his brain - and his intelligence - intact. It slowly drained out through the nose and ears in a thin, yellow liquid, but it worked well enough. He couldn’t save everything, however, and had lost vital things in the process, such as most of his human memories, his sense of humor, and some motor functions. He shared this secret with only Joe, and a few others before, because he needed a strong captain. He kept the others in the dark because vampires - like people - are easier to control when they don’t think for themselves.
Right about now, however, Merrick was beginning to regret sharing the formula with even Joe. Joe had brought him nothing but grief. Joe, you see, could think for himself. He could make decisions. He could go behind Merrick’s back. Joe had something called free will, and free will is a worse affliction than vampirism. Free will is messy, free will is dangerous.
Free will could very well turn Merrick into a pile of bones.
That was, of course, if they weren’t discovered first. Joe had made several mistakes lately, not least of which was the turning of Heather. Sitting there in the predawn hour, attended by Tony, his gay bartender and human familiar, Merrick decided to have Joe killed. There are only two ways to kill a vampire: The stake and the flame. The latter seemed somehow appropriate in this case. After Joe, there would be no more captains, only him, one father with absolute power. That was how it had to be. One man, one vision. Democracies didn’t work. That was especially clear today. Everyone was so divided and nothing ever got done. If the humans had one strong leader, they might go in the wrong direction, but at least they would go somewhere. Instead, they stagnated.
Merrick didn’t particularly look forward to killing Joe, but it had to be done. To protect the family. To protect him.
And Merrick would do anything…anything at all…to protect himself.
***
Vampires.
Bruce kept coming back to that single wor, hoping each time that he would chuckle at the absurdity of it.
But he never did.
Did that mean he believed it? Not necessarily, but damn it, he considered it a possibility, and that alone was enough to make him feel like a fucking clown. All the evidence he had pointed to vampires, but then again, it might point to other things as well. Like aliens.
But let’s say the whole vampire thing was real. Who, like Vanessa asked, was patient zero? Who started this whole mess?
A name came to mind.
Merrick Garvis.
He had not had time to check into Garvis the previous day, but by God, he was going to do it now. He ran his name and social through the system and everything seemed to check out. Merrick Garvis was born on June 31, 1963 in -
Wait a minute. Weren’t there only 30 days in June?
Bruce checked, and there were, indeed, only 30 days in the month of June. Hm. Bruce did a little digging and found something out. Before 1987, social security numbers weren’t issued at birth. You had to sign up, using other forms of ID. Merrick Garvis applied for his in April 1984 and the date of birth on his state issued driver’s license was June 31. Bruce spent an hour on the phone with the DMV and learned that they had never issued a license to a Merrick Garvis. He then spoke to the Social Security Administration, and after much wrangling and frustration, he managed to get a photocopy of the license Garvis used to get his social security number. It was dated 1983.
The face staring back at him was almost exactly the same face he’d seen at Club Vlad, except maybe a touch less stiff and waxy. Though not as rough looking, there was no way in hell Garvis was 20 in that picture. It had to be a fake,
Bruce thought back to the events of the previous two days. Missing bodies, staked corpses, hearts that still beat after death.
Vampires didn’t seem like such a crazy explanation.
And if anyone was a fucking vampire around here, it was Merrick Garvis.

This story is so ridiculous that I just had to share it here. I'll never understand calling someone's pet disgusting because you don't like that type of animal, let alone in someone's own house. If that person has such a "gross" animal as a pet, they probably love that animal as much as they would a cat or a dog.
A little bit of context. I live in an apartment complex on the ninth floor and I have a ton of animals, including pet rats, which I breed with as a hobby that I am very passionate about. I also own a bunch of reptiles, which is an odd combination but I love both equally.
I was looking to rehome one of my ball pythons. When rehoming a reptile, I make sure they go to a good home where they will have as much space and expertise as here, if not more. I found someone with a lot of experience a ton of space for this little guy. This is where the story unfolds.
I welcomed the new owner into my home to pick up the snake, who was a very nice young woman. She was together with an older woman, who I assumed was her mother. Her mom immediately went off about how terrified she was of heights. Not an issue, of course. I am scared of heights and a lot of visitors say that they don't like how high up my house is. I tried to say that I was also scared when I first moved in, but she loudly spoke over me and didn't even look at me. I didn't really think much of it and moved on.
I then opened the door to my living room and the first thing this woman sees is some of my rats. She loudly exclaims that "the house is also filled with vermin". I don't live in an English speaking country, so this is not exactly what she said, but more or less the same. Her tone the whole time was just loud and mean and judgmental. As someone with rats and snakes for pets, I am used to people giving me reactions like this, so instead of getting mad, I tried to tell her I love these animals a lot. She once again didn't listen and spoke over me. This is where normally I would just kick her out, but the daughter seemed very ashamed of her mother and I also just wanted this sale to happen. It's not her fault, after all. Also, considering the mother also owned reptiles, I thought it was very weird that she would respond this way, since she probably knows what it's like when people say this about her own pets.
Anyway, I just ignored the woman and talked with the daughter, who was super sweet the whole time. My guess is that she doesn't bother telling her mother to stop because it probably makes things worse. I also mentioned how I was saving up for a service dog and the mom couldn't help but say "in THIS house?". The daughter scoffed at her comment. I guess she said that because I live in an apartment, but I am always at home and have all the time in the world to walk my dog. Or maybe because my living room was a bit messy when this happened. Either way, it's not for her to judge on so little information. Both me and my boyfriend felt like slamming the door in her face after that comment and I think if she'd made one more comment, I would have. I honestly just felt bad for the daughter.
Luckily they left after that. I got some nice pictures of the snake in his now home and I am happy that he went to a good home. The mother can stay in the car next time, though, lol.