Woman who force husband to wear girdles
For affair dynamic where one person (male or female) is single and the other is married/attached.
2013.12.31 22:12 WorkBitch204 For affair dynamic where one person (male or female) is single and the other is married/attached.
This is a non-judgemental place for the affair dynamic of a single person in an affair with a married/attached person, or married/attached person in an affair with a single person. Here you can discuss your experiences being the other person or MW/MM and seek help from those who are going through or have gone through being part of an affair.
2014.10.14 02:50 anonyboo Demimonde
Subreddit for the now scrapped series ‘Demimonde’ created by J.J. Abrams.
2019.04.27 22:32 bitcoin-optimist Where Are All The Good Women?
The goal is to find real good women as a counterpoint to the red pill. Good stories of good women, do they exist?
2024.05.19 03:04 Careless-Wish-4563 Do you think that this individual would be more compatible with an ISFP, or an INFP?
“I attended middle school with her, although we did not attend high school together (she instead attended a high school that was supposed to help students gain college credits. She earned two liberal arts degrees while there in Social and Behavioral Sciences and Natural Sciences. She now attends an HCBU, and has on her LinkedIn profile that she is presently working toward graduating from her college with a degree in Health Sciences, Pre Med, and a minor in Military Science. She is apart of her school’s Army ROTC.)
I remember that a lot of people in middle school did not like her (although that was also the case for me,) and I understood why. She seemed noticeably introverted, yet also didn’t seem like the kind of person, at least from my perspective, who would try to appease you in the way I imagine a lot of people feel the stereotypical woman might. She had a strong glare (I remember mentioning this to my then best friend’s mom, who agreed with the suggestion) and stood out to me as being weird (it wasn’t necessarily anything she said or did - not her personality, exactly - it’s just the strong glare I mentioned, like she didn’t tend to look sincerely happy nor would she pretend to be unless she was around friends of hers. I remember that she didn’t tend to look happy, in my opinion. It’s possible that she was depressed, or she may have just tended to look irritable, I don’t know. She didn’t strike me as being the kind of person who would make an effort to be polite, struck me as being tomboyish and unladylike, the kind of person who wouldn’t try to change the way she was for you - I wasn’t used to it. Seemed competitive, too. I had truly never interacted with a girl who was like that before. She also struck me as being smart, although she was in the normal math class whereas I was in the advanced one (I was known for being smarter, but thought it should have been her. However, I did notice after looking at her LinkedIn profile that there were more grammatical errors than I expected.)
I remember that she and her friend (who I later on ended up being on good terms with) decided early on that they disliked me, although I hadn’t done anything to them, which bothered me. They also once used me for food in sixth grade, which had also bothered/upset me.
I remember that my former best friend had issues with her ranging back to elementary school, and that in sixth grade in particular they were competing for the attention of an ISFP they’d both been friends with since elementary school. This girl is the one who won the ISFP’s attention/was officially her best friend by the time they were in seventh grade. However, around seventh or eighth grade (it’s been so long that I no longer quite remember,) she “ditched” (in the words of my former best friend) the ISFP and the other friend I’d mentioned in favor of a new crowd. I actually remember my former best friend suggested that the people in her new crowd didn’t like her, either (although she hung out with them throughout eighth grade, and briefly went to high school in person with one of them as a junior whilst presumably taking courses at the other high school online, so I assume that she never knew this/didn’t read them well enough to know or understand this.) I notice that she unfollowed the ISFP at some point as a senior, though the ISFP never unfollowed her (she strikes me as being the kind of person who likely took note of the fact that the ISFP’s life doesn’t seem to be heading in a good direction - the ISFP was abused a few years ago, and has had substance use issues since, in addition to having had to repeat a year of high school. She also unfollowed my former best friend, and my former best friend recently unfollowed her back.)
She figured out that I was the one who owned the middle school gossip account (although most of our peers already suspected, and technically, this girl couldn’t prove it either.) She figured this out because she remembered that I was standing nearby when she told my former best friend who she had a crush on (I was being mean and told our peers who she was crushing on.) However, she never directly confronted me about the matter, even though she told my former best friend that she suspected it to be me. She later on changed her mind when I was kind to her friend who lost the role for graduation speaker to me toward the end of eighth grade (but she was right the first time.)
I noticed around junior year that she has actually turned out to be quite nice looking, even though I had once meanly suggested that she was fat in middle school (she was a tad bit chubby, though as an adult I’m inclined to suggest that this was likely simply baby fat/that with us being so young there wasn’t really anything wrong with this.) She does seem to wear makeup, but also has nice style (she is light skinned, and has a looser hair texture, which are likely factors in me thinking she’s attractive, if I’m being honest - she’s mixed race, with a black mother and white father.) I can’t possibly know, but she gives off the impression to me of being someone who knows that she’s attractive (just something about her energy/facial expressions in photos. She has her Instagram account public now.)”
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submitted by Careless-Wish-4563 to 2X_INTJ [link] [comments]
I remember that a lot of people in middle school did not like her (although that was also the case for me,) and I understood why. She seemed noticeably introverted, yet also didn’t seem like the kind of person, at least from my perspective, who would try to appease you in the way I imagine a lot of people feel the stereotypical woman might. She had a strong glare (I remember mentioning this to my then best friend’s mom, who agreed with the suggestion) and stood out to me as being weird (it wasn’t necessarily anything she said or did - not her personality, exactly - it’s just the strong glare I mentioned, like she didn’t tend to look sincerely happy nor would she pretend to be unless she was around friends of hers. I remember that she didn’t tend to look happy, in my opinion. It’s possible that she was depressed, or she may have just tended to look irritable, I don’t know. She didn’t strike me as being the kind of person who would make an effort to be polite, struck me as being tomboyish and unladylike, the kind of person who wouldn’t try to change the way she was for you - I wasn’t used to it. Seemed competitive, too. I had truly never interacted with a girl who was like that before. She also struck me as being smart, although she was in the normal math class whereas I was in the advanced one (I was known for being smarter, but thought it should have been her. However, I did notice after looking at her LinkedIn profile that there were more grammatical errors than I expected.)
I remember that she and her friend (who I later on ended up being on good terms with) decided early on that they disliked me, although I hadn’t done anything to them, which bothered me. They also once used me for food in sixth grade, which had also bothered/upset me.
I remember that my former best friend had issues with her ranging back to elementary school, and that in sixth grade in particular they were competing for the attention of an ISFP they’d both been friends with since elementary school. This girl is the one who won the ISFP’s attention/was officially her best friend by the time they were in seventh grade. However, around seventh or eighth grade (it’s been so long that I no longer quite remember,) she “ditched” (in the words of my former best friend) the ISFP and the other friend I’d mentioned in favor of a new crowd. I actually remember my former best friend suggested that the people in her new crowd didn’t like her, either (although she hung out with them throughout eighth grade, and briefly went to high school in person with one of them as a junior whilst presumably taking courses at the other high school online, so I assume that she never knew this/didn’t read them well enough to know or understand this.) I notice that she unfollowed the ISFP at some point as a senior, though the ISFP never unfollowed her (she strikes me as being the kind of person who likely took note of the fact that the ISFP’s life doesn’t seem to be heading in a good direction - the ISFP was abused a few years ago, and has had substance use issues since, in addition to having had to repeat a year of high school. She also unfollowed my former best friend, and my former best friend recently unfollowed her back.)
She figured out that I was the one who owned the middle school gossip account (although most of our peers already suspected, and technically, this girl couldn’t prove it either.) She figured this out because she remembered that I was standing nearby when she told my former best friend who she had a crush on (I was being mean and told our peers who she was crushing on.) However, she never directly confronted me about the matter, even though she told my former best friend that she suspected it to be me. She later on changed her mind when I was kind to her friend who lost the role for graduation speaker to me toward the end of eighth grade (but she was right the first time.)
I noticed around junior year that she has actually turned out to be quite nice looking, even though I had once meanly suggested that she was fat in middle school (she was a tad bit chubby, though as an adult I’m inclined to suggest that this was likely simply baby fat/that with us being so young there wasn’t really anything wrong with this.) She does seem to wear makeup, but also has nice style (she is light skinned, and has a looser hair texture, which are likely factors in me thinking she’s attractive, if I’m being honest - she’s mixed race, with a black mother and white father.) I can’t possibly know, but she gives off the impression to me of being someone who knows that she’s attractive (just something about her energy/facial expressions in photos. She has her Instagram account public now.)”
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2024.05.19 03:03 Definition_Novel Antanas Bimba Jr. - An American Lithuanian Revolutionary.
 | In July of 1913, the newly-arrived to America Antanas Bimba Jr., a then 19-year old Catholic ethnic Lithuanian immigrant, would later become one of the most important political figures of the Communist movement in the United States. submitted by Definition_Novel to BalticSSRs [link] [comments] Antanas Bimba Jr. was born in Lithuania in the village of Valeikiškis, in the Rokiškis district of Lithuania near the Latvian border, on January 22nd, 1894. His father, Antanas Bimba Sr., was a blacksmith and peasant farmer. Antanas Jr was one of six surviving children of his father’s second wife. The Bimba family were proud Lithuanians and devout Catholics, something that annoyed much of the Czarist government whom sought to impose Russian Orthodoxy and Russian language on Lithuania. This drove many Lithuanians, including the Bimbas, to immigrate to the United States and other countries in search of a better life. During the summer of 1913, at age 19, Antanas arrived in Burlington, New Jersey on a steamship with an older brother. He and his brother were then employed at a steel mill for only $7 a week and worked 60 hours weekly. Due to unbearable working conditions, Antanas and his family relocated, and he and his brother took up another job in Rumford, Maine at a pulp mill. Although conditions there were marginally better than the steel mill job, Antanas became sick from chest pains due to inhalation of toxic fumes, and was forced to leave the job and seek yet another one. This experience of being an immigrant and being exploited for his labor had a profound effect on Bimba, and it drove his interest in Marxism. After leaving the milling industry, he got his next job as a truck driver, becoming acquainted with Lithuanian American socialists in the process. His first revolutionary achievement was helping in making a co-operative bakery for rye bread, a staple food of the Lithuanian community. In becoming a socialist, he abandoned Catholicism, preferring agnosticism, what he called “religious freethinking”, not wishing to tie himself to organized religion. He later became an atheist as he got older in age. In May of 1916, Antanas attended college at Valparaiso University, a small private college that became popular in attendance with members of the Lithuanian immigrant community in Valparaiso, Indiana. He attended there until 1919, earning a degree in history and sociology, and was able to pay for his classes by tending to a Lithuanian owned library in the town. In the summers he worked in a wire factory and machine shop in Cleveland, Ohio. Bimba than became active in the Lithuanian Socialist Federation (LSF) , which served as a branch organization of the Socialist Party of America, with the LSF catering to Lithuanian immigrant populations (both primarily ethnic Lithuanian Catholics as well as Litvak Jews.) He spent his time in the LSF writing numerous Lithuanian-language publications for them, as well as traveling to Lithuanian immigrant communities in cities in the US delivering Marxist political lectures amongst Lithuanian laborers in steel manufacturing cities like Gary, Indiana and Chicago, Illinois. His first brush against the capitalist legal system came in 1918, it is not fully clear as to whether Bimba was arrested for his trade unionist and socialist beliefs, or his objection to World War One at the time. However, Lithuanian-American historians generally contend his arrest was a result of expressing all of those opinions publicly. Eventually he was released and charges were dropped. In summer 1919, he got a job as editor of “Darbas” (ENG: “Labor”) the Lithuanian newspaper of the ACWA (Amalgamated Clothing Workers of America). On September 1st 1919, the Socialist Party of America fractured into rival organizations, mainly amongst Social Democrat vs Marxist lines. The Marxist faction became the early iteration of the Communist Party of America, which the LSF backed, and Bimba was quick to support the CPUSA as a result. Bimba later became the editor of another Lithuanian American Marxist newspaper, this time “Kova” (ENG: “Struggle”) for the newly formed LCF (Lithuanian Communist Federation). Following the Palmer Raids by the US government which seized communist publications and shut down their press, Bimba then published the LCF underground newspaper “Komunistas” (ENG:”Communist”). In 1922, Bimba became editor of the Brooklyn, New York communist Lithuanian newspaper Laisvė (ENG: “Liberty”) and remained its editor until 1928. In November 1922, along with 6 other Lithuanians, he founded and held a committee meeting for a workers trade union called the United Toilers of America (UTA). The UTA also had numerous branch organizations, mainly serving immigrant communities, which operated notably with the help of Bimba and the rest of the 6 man committee. The organizations of the UTA were as follows: The Workers' Defense Conference of New England Alliance of Polish Workers of America The Ukrainian Association Lettish (Latvian) Publishing Association The Polish Publishing Association The Lithuanian Workers' Association Woman's Progressive Alliance. Since most of these organizations served Eastern European immigrants, it can be argued that Bimba is perhaps the first person of a Soviet nationality who developed a “diaspora Soviet/Eastern Bloc consciousness” driven ideology, aimed at unifying them under socialism for the benefits of their labor. A true visionary Bimba was. The UTA later became an organization absorbed officially into the Communist Party of the United States. The UTA eventually fell apart after raids by the government during the Bridgman Convention meetings of the UTA, in which its high profile leaders of William Z. Foster and C.E. Ruthenberg were arrested. After this, the UTA was disbanded. But it was on January 26th, 1926 that Bimba truly made his biggest mark on Marxist history in the United States. He had traveled to Brockton, Massachusetts to address the Lithuanian community there at the Lithuanian National Hall. At the meeting he championed socialism, encouraged unionizing in the Lithuanian immigrant community, and criticized the Catholic Church. He said in critique of the church as an institution: "People have built churches for the last 2,000 years, and we have sweated under Christian rule for 2,000 years. And what have we got? The government is in control of the priests and bishops, clerics and capitalists. They tell us there is a God. Where is he?” When he received pushback from religious individuals in the crowd who ridiculed his disbelief in God and Jesus Christ, he said: "There is no such thing. Who can prove it? There are still fools enough who believe in God. The priests tell us there is a soul. Why, I have a soul, but that sole is on my shoe. Referring to Christ, the priests also tell us he is a god. Why, he is no more a god than you or I. He was just a plain man." After an individual complained to police, he was arrested and put on trial under Salem Witch Trial era blasphemy laws. In addition to being charged with blasphemy, he was also charged under anti-communist political sedition laws, based on the following statement he made at the same meeting: "We do not believe in the ballot. We do not believe in any form of government but the Soviet form and we shall establish the Soviet form of government here. The red flag will fly on the Capitol in Washington and there will also be one on the Lithuanian Hall in Brockton." With the legal and financial support of the local Worker’s Communist party, the International Labor Defense organization, and the American Civil Liberties Union, he was able to widen public support for himself. The trial began on February 24th, 1926; six days later, on March 1st, 1926 he was found not guilty of blasphemy but guilty of sedition and ordered to pay a $100 fine. He was then released. Opponents attempted to get him back in jail on more similar charges, but in a rare twist of events, the lead prosecutor dropped his case, simply saying it wasn’t worth pursuing. As a result of the high profile trial of Bimba’s case, courts later ruled the blasphemy laws unconstitutional. As such, Bimba fighting such corrupt laws, causing them to be thrown out, is his crowning achievement. In 1928, Bimba ran for NY State Assembly on the Communist Party ticket in the 13th Assembly District of Brooklyn, NYC. Bimba also produced 2 important leftist American works, both originally in Lithuanian; A survey of labor history called “The History of the American Working Class” (1927), and an account of government repressions of Pennsylvania coal miners in “The Molly Maguires” (1932). Both books were published by International Publishers, a publishing arm of the Communist Party of The United States. Bimba was an editor of a Marxist magazine for the final time in 1936, writing for the Lithuanian language publication “Šviesa” (ENG: “Light”) in 1936. In 1962, Bimba was awarded his honorary doctorate in history from Vilnius University in the capital of Lithuania. Bimba was persecuted by the American capitalist legal system yet again in 1963, when it tried to deport him on grounds of sedition while un-naturalized, on the grounds that, since he was not yet a citizen when brought to trial in 1926 (he didnt become a citizen until 1927) the court argued he should be deported. Historians generally at free the targeting of Bimba to be deported to Soviet Lithuania was politically motivated revenge, in that the DOJ was upset that Bimba refused to testify against other communists in the political witch hunts of the House Un-American Activities Committee in 1957 earlier. Bimba appealed against thr government until 1967, arguing to be allowed to stay in America, as he was politically committed to building socialism in the USA despite that he respected the USSR. Miraculously, in July of 1967, Attorney General Ramsey Clark dropped his case, viewing it as a form of political intimidation. Bimba later died in NYC on September 30th, 1982, at age 88. He left his mark on the movement for socialism in America, and made himself a hero for Lithuanian Americans and all diaspora Lithuanians. In conclusion, don’t be like reactionary Lithuanians. Be like Antanas Bimba. Be revolutionary. May his accomplishments forever be acknowledged. |
2024.05.19 02:54 michellerooneyy Help keeping hardwood & white carpet clean with dog pleaaase
Hi everyone!
I’m coming to you at my wit’s end hoping for suggestions. (I so apologize if I didn’t look back far enough and someone already asked a similar question - feel free to reference post in comments!!)
My husband and I have a Golden Retriever and there is always a lot of hair everywhere (duh). I got that figured out early with a good vacuum and a Roomba to help me out.
But then we had a baby and moved into a house with LVP throughout the main floor, white carpets in all the rooms (yikes), and no landscaping with an empty field behind our house. Now my dog tracks in dirt and dust from rolling around outside no matter how diligent we are about wiping paws at the door.
The baby has started crawling and I’m struggling to keep the floors clean. I can’t do a legit full mop every day with a baby that’s learning to explore as much as I’d like to so it’s once a week. And a Swiffer doesn’t cut it. I use way too many pads to get all the flooring and I feel like it just pushes dirt around. What do you guys use in between a major mop? I have a steam mop but have read enough to know it’s not good for LVP.
Also another obvious duh, but these white carpets are so hard to keep clean. What do you recommend for keeping carpets as clean as possible? A deep clean carpet cleaner every other week? Monthly? I don’t have any spills or stains, just every day dirt from traffic. I’m slowly training my husband that we wear socks and not bare feet and no shoes on carpet lol
Changing the carpets is not something we can do right now and we are working on landscaping but it will be a long time. No, we can’t get rid of the dog 😉 Any helpful tips you can provide to a new mom who just wants to keep a decently clean house? (Not even asking for sparkling clean!)
Thank you!!!
submitted by michellerooneyy to CleaningTips [link] [comments]
I’m coming to you at my wit’s end hoping for suggestions. (I so apologize if I didn’t look back far enough and someone already asked a similar question - feel free to reference post in comments!!)
My husband and I have a Golden Retriever and there is always a lot of hair everywhere (duh). I got that figured out early with a good vacuum and a Roomba to help me out.
But then we had a baby and moved into a house with LVP throughout the main floor, white carpets in all the rooms (yikes), and no landscaping with an empty field behind our house. Now my dog tracks in dirt and dust from rolling around outside no matter how diligent we are about wiping paws at the door.
The baby has started crawling and I’m struggling to keep the floors clean. I can’t do a legit full mop every day with a baby that’s learning to explore as much as I’d like to so it’s once a week. And a Swiffer doesn’t cut it. I use way too many pads to get all the flooring and I feel like it just pushes dirt around. What do you guys use in between a major mop? I have a steam mop but have read enough to know it’s not good for LVP.
Also another obvious duh, but these white carpets are so hard to keep clean. What do you recommend for keeping carpets as clean as possible? A deep clean carpet cleaner every other week? Monthly? I don’t have any spills or stains, just every day dirt from traffic. I’m slowly training my husband that we wear socks and not bare feet and no shoes on carpet lol
Changing the carpets is not something we can do right now and we are working on landscaping but it will be a long time. No, we can’t get rid of the dog 😉 Any helpful tips you can provide to a new mom who just wants to keep a decently clean house? (Not even asking for sparkling clean!)
Thank you!!!
2024.05.19 02:52 No_Respond_2054 Looking for advice on setting boundaries surrounding new baby!
I am 32 weeks pregnant and I have been having a hard time getting family (both mine but more so the in laws) to respect the boundaries I am trying to put in place around labor and delivery and after baby boy arrives.
I am thinking I would like for us to just let my in laws know that baby is safe and ready for visitors when that time comes rather than letting them know we are in labor. My mother in law told my husband today that she did not care how I felt about it or what I said, they would be in the waiting room expecting updates if she can’t be in the delivery room. She also had a lot to say when she found out I was planning on getting an epidural.
I have been a part of the family for over 15 years and my husband and I have been married for 10. We have always had a complicated relationship as she is extremely passive aggressive and will only tell her complaints about me to everyone else (a big issue that has been and is being worked on with my husband) and then I find out much later and there is no tactful way to bring the issue back up.
During my pregnancy she has done/said several things that have made me uncomfortable and just pushed me further in the direction of wanting to extremely limit my contact with her and by extension, our future son’s as well. She has made comments about my body changing (boobs getting bigger) to her other son in front of me, her thoughts on how my breastfeeding should go (must wear a cover as to not upset anyone), asking what baby’s name will be and after getting an answer suggesting alternatives of family member’s names (multiple times), saying I shouldn’t get an epidural, having a fit when she found out we weren’t planning on having a changing table (seriously?!), many other small off-hand comments, and now saying that she doesn’t care how I feel about it- she’ll be in the waiting room…
I’m trying to be kind and tactful but I’m pretty much to the end of my patience with this woman and I’m going to explode.
How do I deal with putting boundaries in place with both her and my family regarding baby? I am hoping for a good outcome for everyone but my stress levels are through the roof and I have a lot of resentment that I’m already feeling this way and being put in these positions before little man even arrives.
Thank you!
submitted by No_Respond_2054 to Advice [link] [comments]
I am thinking I would like for us to just let my in laws know that baby is safe and ready for visitors when that time comes rather than letting them know we are in labor. My mother in law told my husband today that she did not care how I felt about it or what I said, they would be in the waiting room expecting updates if she can’t be in the delivery room. She also had a lot to say when she found out I was planning on getting an epidural.
I have been a part of the family for over 15 years and my husband and I have been married for 10. We have always had a complicated relationship as she is extremely passive aggressive and will only tell her complaints about me to everyone else (a big issue that has been and is being worked on with my husband) and then I find out much later and there is no tactful way to bring the issue back up.
During my pregnancy she has done/said several things that have made me uncomfortable and just pushed me further in the direction of wanting to extremely limit my contact with her and by extension, our future son’s as well. She has made comments about my body changing (boobs getting bigger) to her other son in front of me, her thoughts on how my breastfeeding should go (must wear a cover as to not upset anyone), asking what baby’s name will be and after getting an answer suggesting alternatives of family member’s names (multiple times), saying I shouldn’t get an epidural, having a fit when she found out we weren’t planning on having a changing table (seriously?!), many other small off-hand comments, and now saying that she doesn’t care how I feel about it- she’ll be in the waiting room…
I’m trying to be kind and tactful but I’m pretty much to the end of my patience with this woman and I’m going to explode.
How do I deal with putting boundaries in place with both her and my family regarding baby? I am hoping for a good outcome for everyone but my stress levels are through the roof and I have a lot of resentment that I’m already feeling this way and being put in these positions before little man even arrives.
Thank you!
2024.05.19 02:49 Same_Opportunity3367 An extremely long brutally honest rant about Michelle (and Kim)'s looks.
I'm just going to be blunt because almost everyone else here seems to be easier on Michelle just because Kim is worse.
She looks awful. Face wise, the problem is unfortunate that she carries a lot of fat in her face to the point where it ages her by at least 2-3 decades and make her look like she weighs at least twice as much as she does. And she's been doing the skincare routine (and spending god knows how much) for how long now and her face still isn't any better?
Sure she makes an effort when she goes on her solo dates, etc. (although she and Kim look TERRIBLE when they wear those really thick false eyelashes and blush their cheeks so much) but that's mostly because her hair is down. When her hair is up in a bun, she looks as old as my grandmother who is in her 80s. My mother (who is in her mid-50s) thinks so too and she is always shocked when I tell her they're both at least a few years younger than me. And Michelle is fussing about turning 30??
This also jogs into memory of a time when Kim and Michelle were gloating about some woman telling them they look young for their ages. Do they? I'm Asian and to me, they look at LEAST in their 50s, especially when they wear their hair up. Maybe I'm being too harsh but if I ever look like either of them, I'd be looked at with disgust and receive judgment from not just my relatives (especially my close family), but even strangers. I know this because I have friends and coworkers who don't look nearly as bad as them that get gawked at.
Honestly I used to think it was confidence that Michelle could take herself out on solo trips looking the way she does, but now I'm sure it's also mixed with delusion which makes sense because when you put effort into how you look, you feel good even if you don't look as good.
But I will acknowledge that at least she can do things on her own unlike Kim who (and this is something I will never understand) is more "famous" and a former "beauty guru" who still can't seem to do anything on her own that she has to drag Michelle around like a security blanket with her especially whenever she's around HER IN-LAWS. That will never not be bizarre to me. Kim is obviously more insecure with her looks than she lets on. Just because Michelle looks bigger than her doesn't mean Kim's not as fat as her.
Also Kim is always in "oversized" tops. Not that it matters because I like wearing oversized tops myself but I feel like she thinks she feels "petite" in them like those slimmer girls who wear them (probably also explains why she does her hair up in that damn "messy bun" a lot). The fact is she's short and very obese and it still shows no matter how big the top she wears is. She will always look dumpy unless she loses like 50lbs. (She's admitted her highest weight was 160lbs and that was years ago.)
I think if they both drop 1/3 of their weight, they'd look so much better. We've seen Michelle when she was on her weight loss journey and she was looking a lot better when she dropped 50lbs.
Many people say Kim is sabotaging her with the mukbangs, etc, but as Michelle has clarified, she is her own person. If she wants to live her life eating crap with Kim, that's on her. She and Kim have broken their friendship off before, and if Michelle truly thinks she can do better in life without her, she'd do it but she won't (at least for now) because Kim is such a "generous" gift-giver.
I've been holding off on this for so long (particularly my judgment on Michelle), because I always see people crapping on Kim's looks (which I agree with - her small but fat fish lips along with her round soccerball head is a bad combination) but never really as much Michelle who may be the better of the two but still looks just as bad.
Michelle may come off as "compassionate and caring" but the way she preaches about how much of a "nice/good person" she is and that she'd nevvver judged anyone the way she was/is judged by her relatives when we know all too well that she and Kim gossip all the time and are just as bitchy as we can be (esp. off camera) is just insane.
They probably call themselves empaths too because they're *such* kindhearted people. I'm sure if they both got a dose of the truth serum, they would not be friends.
submitted by Same_Opportunity3367 to snarkingwithkimthai [link] [comments]
She looks awful. Face wise, the problem is unfortunate that she carries a lot of fat in her face to the point where it ages her by at least 2-3 decades and make her look like she weighs at least twice as much as she does. And she's been doing the skincare routine (and spending god knows how much) for how long now and her face still isn't any better?
Sure she makes an effort when she goes on her solo dates, etc. (although she and Kim look TERRIBLE when they wear those really thick false eyelashes and blush their cheeks so much) but that's mostly because her hair is down. When her hair is up in a bun, she looks as old as my grandmother who is in her 80s. My mother (who is in her mid-50s) thinks so too and she is always shocked when I tell her they're both at least a few years younger than me. And Michelle is fussing about turning 30??
This also jogs into memory of a time when Kim and Michelle were gloating about some woman telling them they look young for their ages. Do they? I'm Asian and to me, they look at LEAST in their 50s, especially when they wear their hair up. Maybe I'm being too harsh but if I ever look like either of them, I'd be looked at with disgust and receive judgment from not just my relatives (especially my close family), but even strangers. I know this because I have friends and coworkers who don't look nearly as bad as them that get gawked at.
Honestly I used to think it was confidence that Michelle could take herself out on solo trips looking the way she does, but now I'm sure it's also mixed with delusion which makes sense because when you put effort into how you look, you feel good even if you don't look as good.
But I will acknowledge that at least she can do things on her own unlike Kim who (and this is something I will never understand) is more "famous" and a former "beauty guru" who still can't seem to do anything on her own that she has to drag Michelle around like a security blanket with her especially whenever she's around HER IN-LAWS. That will never not be bizarre to me. Kim is obviously more insecure with her looks than she lets on. Just because Michelle looks bigger than her doesn't mean Kim's not as fat as her.
Also Kim is always in "oversized" tops. Not that it matters because I like wearing oversized tops myself but I feel like she thinks she feels "petite" in them like those slimmer girls who wear them (probably also explains why she does her hair up in that damn "messy bun" a lot). The fact is she's short and very obese and it still shows no matter how big the top she wears is. She will always look dumpy unless she loses like 50lbs. (She's admitted her highest weight was 160lbs and that was years ago.)
I think if they both drop 1/3 of their weight, they'd look so much better. We've seen Michelle when she was on her weight loss journey and she was looking a lot better when she dropped 50lbs.
Many people say Kim is sabotaging her with the mukbangs, etc, but as Michelle has clarified, she is her own person. If she wants to live her life eating crap with Kim, that's on her. She and Kim have broken their friendship off before, and if Michelle truly thinks she can do better in life without her, she'd do it but she won't (at least for now) because Kim is such a "generous" gift-giver.
I've been holding off on this for so long (particularly my judgment on Michelle), because I always see people crapping on Kim's looks (which I agree with - her small but fat fish lips along with her round soccerball head is a bad combination) but never really as much Michelle who may be the better of the two but still looks just as bad.
Michelle may come off as "compassionate and caring" but the way she preaches about how much of a "nice/good person" she is and that she'd nevvver judged anyone the way she was/is judged by her relatives when we know all too well that she and Kim gossip all the time and are just as bitchy as we can be (esp. off camera) is just insane.
They probably call themselves empaths too because they're *such* kindhearted people. I'm sure if they both got a dose of the truth serum, they would not be friends.
2024.05.19 02:47 lighthouse-it The TERF obsession with girlhood is sick
TW: transphobia
I hate the TERFs' shallow obsession with cis, white, western girlhood. All the detransitioners they scare us with are girls who were supposedly forced to cut off their breasts by woke groomers, and most of the trans people they lament are trans women they make out to be predatory men trying to hurt young girls. Yet, they never care about girlhood in any other sense. It's disgusting.
The first time I ever heard my grandma care about a rape case in our state was when a girl was assaulted by a trans woman at her school. In the same conversation, she said Trump's comments about women are justified because "everyone says stuff like that." It's sick. Of course girls need to be protected, but they never care about girls unless they're white, western, cis, and supposedly being hurt by one of their enemies. Their protection is so shallow. All girls are to them is some innocent projection to use as a shield to hurt their enemies and appear righteous. I fucking hate it. I'm a trans guy--you don't need to protect my girlhood because it never existed. You don't need to threaten me with stories of girls who were manipulated to cut off their breasts and "mutilate" their bodies. It's misogynistic and disgusting that they use girlhood as an excuse to hurt people.
This has just been on my mind lately and I thought this was a good place to discuss it.
submitted by lighthouse-it to trans [link] [comments]
I hate the TERFs' shallow obsession with cis, white, western girlhood. All the detransitioners they scare us with are girls who were supposedly forced to cut off their breasts by woke groomers, and most of the trans people they lament are trans women they make out to be predatory men trying to hurt young girls. Yet, they never care about girlhood in any other sense. It's disgusting.
The first time I ever heard my grandma care about a rape case in our state was when a girl was assaulted by a trans woman at her school. In the same conversation, she said Trump's comments about women are justified because "everyone says stuff like that." It's sick. Of course girls need to be protected, but they never care about girls unless they're white, western, cis, and supposedly being hurt by one of their enemies. Their protection is so shallow. All girls are to them is some innocent projection to use as a shield to hurt their enemies and appear righteous. I fucking hate it. I'm a trans guy--you don't need to protect my girlhood because it never existed. You don't need to threaten me with stories of girls who were manipulated to cut off their breasts and "mutilate" their bodies. It's misogynistic and disgusting that they use girlhood as an excuse to hurt people.
This has just been on my mind lately and I thought this was a good place to discuss it.
2024.05.19 02:41 No_Respond_2054 Looking for advice on setting boundaries surrounding new baby!
I am 32 weeks pregnant and I have been having a hard time getting family (both mine but more so the in laws) to respect the boundaries I am trying to put in place around labor and delivery and after baby boy arrives.
I am thinking I would like for us to just let my in laws know that baby is safe and ready for visitors when that time comes rather than letting them know we are in labor. My mother in law told my husband today that she did not care how I felt about it or what I said, they would be in the waiting room expecting updates if she can’t be in the delivery room. She also had a lot to say when she found out I was planning on getting an epidural.
I have been a part of the family for over 15 years and my husband and I have been married for 10. We have always had a complicated relationship as she is extremely passive aggressive and will only tell her complaints about me to everyone else (a big issue that has been and is being worked on with my husband) and then I find out much later and there is no tactful way to bring the issue back up.
During my pregnancy she has done/said several things that have made me uncomfortable and just pushed me further in the direction of wanting to extremely limit my contact with her and by extension, our future son’s as well. She has made comments about my body changing (boobs getting bigger) to her other son in front of me, her thoughts on how my breastfeeding should go (must wear a cover as to not upset anyone), asking what baby’s name will be and after getting an answer suggesting alternatives of family member’s names (multiple times), saying I shouldn’t get an epidural, having a fit when she found out we weren’t planning on having a changing table (seriously?!), many other small off-hand comments, and now saying that she doesn’t care how I feel about it- she’ll be in the waiting room…
I’m trying to be kind and tactful but I’m pretty much to the end of my patience with this woman and I’m going to explode.
How do I deal with putting boundaries in place with both her and my family regarding baby? I am hoping for a good outcome for everyone but my stress levels are through the roof and I have a lot of resentment that I’m already feeling this way and being put in these positions before little man even arrives.
Thank you!
submitted by No_Respond_2054 to motherinlawsfromhell [link] [comments]
I am thinking I would like for us to just let my in laws know that baby is safe and ready for visitors when that time comes rather than letting them know we are in labor. My mother in law told my husband today that she did not care how I felt about it or what I said, they would be in the waiting room expecting updates if she can’t be in the delivery room. She also had a lot to say when she found out I was planning on getting an epidural.
I have been a part of the family for over 15 years and my husband and I have been married for 10. We have always had a complicated relationship as she is extremely passive aggressive and will only tell her complaints about me to everyone else (a big issue that has been and is being worked on with my husband) and then I find out much later and there is no tactful way to bring the issue back up.
During my pregnancy she has done/said several things that have made me uncomfortable and just pushed me further in the direction of wanting to extremely limit my contact with her and by extension, our future son’s as well. She has made comments about my body changing (boobs getting bigger) to her other son in front of me, her thoughts on how my breastfeeding should go (must wear a cover as to not upset anyone), asking what baby’s name will be and after getting an answer suggesting alternatives of family member’s names (multiple times), saying I shouldn’t get an epidural, having a fit when she found out we weren’t planning on having a changing table (seriously?!), many other small off-hand comments, and now saying that she doesn’t care how I feel about it- she’ll be in the waiting room…
I’m trying to be kind and tactful but I’m pretty much to the end of my patience with this woman and I’m going to explode.
How do I deal with putting boundaries in place with both her and my family regarding baby? I am hoping for a good outcome for everyone but my stress levels are through the roof and I have a lot of resentment that I’m already feeling this way and being put in these positions before little man even arrives.
Thank you!
2024.05.19 02:41 No_Respond_2054 Looking for advice on setting boundaries surrounding new baby!
I am 32 weeks pregnant and I have been having a hard time getting family (both mine but more so the in laws) to respect the boundaries I am trying to put in place around labor and delivery and after baby boy arrives.
I am thinking I would like for us to just let my in laws know that baby is safe and ready for visitors when that time comes rather than letting them know we are in labor. My mother in law told my husband today that she did not care how I felt about it or what I said, they would be in the waiting room expecting updates if she can’t be in the delivery room. She also had a lot to say when she found out I was planning on getting an epidural.
I have been a part of the family for over 15 years and my husband and I have been married for 10. We have always had a complicated relationship as she is extremely passive aggressive and will only tell her complaints about me to everyone else (a big issue that has been and is being worked on with my husband) and then I find out much later and there is no tactful way to bring the issue back up.
During my pregnancy she has done/said several things that have made me uncomfortable and just pushed me further in the direction of wanting to extremely limit my contact with her and by extension, our future son’s as well. She has made comments about my body changing (boobs getting bigger) to her other son in front of me, her thoughts on how my breastfeeding should go (must wear a cover as to not upset anyone), asking what baby’s name will be and after getting an answer suggesting alternatives of family member’s names (multiple times), saying I shouldn’t get an epidural, having a fit when she found out we weren’t planning on having a changing table (seriously?!), many other small off-hand comments, and now saying that she doesn’t care how I feel about it- she’ll be in the waiting room…
I’m trying to be kind and tactful but I’m pretty much to the end of my patience with this woman and I’m going to explode.
How do I deal with putting boundaries in place with both her and my family regarding baby? I am hoping for a good outcome for everyone but my stress levels are through the roof and I have a lot of resentment that I’m already feeling this way and being put in these positions before little man even arrives.
Thank you!
submitted by No_Respond_2054 to SettingBoundaries [link] [comments]
I am thinking I would like for us to just let my in laws know that baby is safe and ready for visitors when that time comes rather than letting them know we are in labor. My mother in law told my husband today that she did not care how I felt about it or what I said, they would be in the waiting room expecting updates if she can’t be in the delivery room. She also had a lot to say when she found out I was planning on getting an epidural.
I have been a part of the family for over 15 years and my husband and I have been married for 10. We have always had a complicated relationship as she is extremely passive aggressive and will only tell her complaints about me to everyone else (a big issue that has been and is being worked on with my husband) and then I find out much later and there is no tactful way to bring the issue back up.
During my pregnancy she has done/said several things that have made me uncomfortable and just pushed me further in the direction of wanting to extremely limit my contact with her and by extension, our future son’s as well. She has made comments about my body changing (boobs getting bigger) to her other son in front of me, her thoughts on how my breastfeeding should go (must wear a cover as to not upset anyone), asking what baby’s name will be and after getting an answer suggesting alternatives of family member’s names (multiple times), saying I shouldn’t get an epidural, having a fit when she found out we weren’t planning on having a changing table (seriously?!), many other small off-hand comments, and now saying that she doesn’t care how I feel about it- she’ll be in the waiting room…
I’m trying to be kind and tactful but I’m pretty much to the end of my patience with this woman and I’m going to explode.
How do I deal with putting boundaries in place with both her and my family regarding baby? I am hoping for a good outcome for everyone but my stress levels are through the roof and I have a lot of resentment that I’m already feeling this way and being put in these positions before little man even arrives.
Thank you!
2024.05.19 02:41 No_Respond_2054 Looking for advice on setting boundaries surrounding new baby!
I am 32 weeks pregnant and I have been having a hard time getting family (both mine but more so the in laws) to respect the boundaries I am trying to put in place around labor and delivery and after baby boy arrives.
I am thinking I would like for us to just let my in laws know that baby is safe and ready for visitors when that time comes rather than letting them know we are in labor. My mother in law told my husband today that she did not care how I felt about it or what I said, they would be in the waiting room expecting updates if she can’t be in the delivery room. She also had a lot to say when she found out I was planning on getting an epidural.
I have been a part of the family for over 15 years and my husband and I have been married for 10. We have always had a complicated relationship as she is extremely passive aggressive and will only tell her complaints about me to everyone else (a big issue that has been and is being worked on with my husband) and then I find out much later and there is no tactful way to bring the issue back up.
During my pregnancy she has done/said several things that have made me uncomfortable and just pushed me further in the direction of wanting to extremely limit my contact with her and by extension, our future son’s as well. She has made comments about my body changing (boobs getting bigger) to her other son in front of me, her thoughts on how my breastfeeding should go (must wear a cover as to not upset anyone), asking what baby’s name will be and after getting an answer suggesting alternatives of family member’s names (multiple times), saying I shouldn’t get an epidural, having a fit when she found out we weren’t planning on having a changing table (seriously?!), many other small off-hand comments, and now saying that she doesn’t care how I feel about it- she’ll be in the waiting room…
I’m trying to be kind and tactful but I’m pretty much to the end of my patience with this woman and I’m going to explode.
How do I deal with putting boundaries in place with both her and my family regarding baby? I am hoping for a good outcome for everyone but my stress levels are through the roof and I have a lot of resentment that I’m already feeling this way and being put in these positions before little man even arrives.
Thank you!
submitted by No_Respond_2054 to BetterBoundaries [link] [comments]
I am thinking I would like for us to just let my in laws know that baby is safe and ready for visitors when that time comes rather than letting them know we are in labor. My mother in law told my husband today that she did not care how I felt about it or what I said, they would be in the waiting room expecting updates if she can’t be in the delivery room. She also had a lot to say when she found out I was planning on getting an epidural.
I have been a part of the family for over 15 years and my husband and I have been married for 10. We have always had a complicated relationship as she is extremely passive aggressive and will only tell her complaints about me to everyone else (a big issue that has been and is being worked on with my husband) and then I find out much later and there is no tactful way to bring the issue back up.
During my pregnancy she has done/said several things that have made me uncomfortable and just pushed me further in the direction of wanting to extremely limit my contact with her and by extension, our future son’s as well. She has made comments about my body changing (boobs getting bigger) to her other son in front of me, her thoughts on how my breastfeeding should go (must wear a cover as to not upset anyone), asking what baby’s name will be and after getting an answer suggesting alternatives of family member’s names (multiple times), saying I shouldn’t get an epidural, having a fit when she found out we weren’t planning on having a changing table (seriously?!), many other small off-hand comments, and now saying that she doesn’t care how I feel about it- she’ll be in the waiting room…
I’m trying to be kind and tactful but I’m pretty much to the end of my patience with this woman and I’m going to explode.
How do I deal with putting boundaries in place with both her and my family regarding baby? I am hoping for a good outcome for everyone but my stress levels are through the roof and I have a lot of resentment that I’m already feeling this way and being put in these positions before little man even arrives.
Thank you!
2024.05.19 02:40 ZestycloseTopic8008 AITA for telling my cousin she can’t take my daughters clothes for her baby
For years, my relationship with my family has been rocky. Let's just say Thanksgiving dinners were more tense than a family therapy session. Now, my cousin, Rebecca, the queen of passive-aggression, has reached a new low.
My daughter, Raine(7 mo) has a small amount of clothes. I was planning on saving them for another child in the future.
Out of the blue, she texts me: "Hey! Can I have your daughter’s clothes? I’m pregnant and need it all. You can buy more for her."
Now, Rebecca never talks to me and generally avoids any interaction me. Yet, suddenly, my daughter's wardrobe is fair game.
I texted back, "Sure, Rebecca . I have some things Raine’s grown out of. They're all in great shape, though." (Emphasis on "great shape" because I knew where this was going.)
Her reply? "Amazing! What about the things she’s wearing currently? Once again you can buy more. I can swing by after work and grab everything!"
My jaw clenched. "Everything? I can’t afford to buy new clothes. I’m still unemployed and we’re barely making rent."
Silence for a beat, then, "Oh, well, no problem. I’ll swing by this weekend after you get a job I guess."
The audacity! Here's the woman who barely acknowledges my daughter, and now she wants to raid her entire closet? Plus, for years, our family has disrespected me, yet they think they can waltz in and grab free clothes?
I haven't responded yet. So, Reddit, AITA for telling Rebecca "no" and keeping Raine's clothes for her?
submitted by ZestycloseTopic8008 to AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]
My daughter, Raine(7 mo) has a small amount of clothes. I was planning on saving them for another child in the future.
Out of the blue, she texts me: "Hey! Can I have your daughter’s clothes? I’m pregnant and need it all. You can buy more for her."
Now, Rebecca never talks to me and generally avoids any interaction me. Yet, suddenly, my daughter's wardrobe is fair game.
I texted back, "Sure, Rebecca . I have some things Raine’s grown out of. They're all in great shape, though." (Emphasis on "great shape" because I knew where this was going.)
Her reply? "Amazing! What about the things she’s wearing currently? Once again you can buy more. I can swing by after work and grab everything!"
My jaw clenched. "Everything? I can’t afford to buy new clothes. I’m still unemployed and we’re barely making rent."
Silence for a beat, then, "Oh, well, no problem. I’ll swing by this weekend after you get a job I guess."
The audacity! Here's the woman who barely acknowledges my daughter, and now she wants to raid her entire closet? Plus, for years, our family has disrespected me, yet they think they can waltz in and grab free clothes?
I haven't responded yet. So, Reddit, AITA for telling Rebecca "no" and keeping Raine's clothes for her?
2024.05.19 02:36 craycodile May have accidentally helped my friend stop repping?
In my previous post here, I mentioned a cis friend who mogged me in every conceivable way and that IWNBAM and all the usual brainworm rot. Well, a couple days later, we ended up hanging out again in a bigger group and they were acting very nervous around this one particular dress we came across. I got a little suspicious of that, so I asked if they wanted to try it on once we were a distance away from everyone else as a way of testing the waters. Of course they were very hesitant, but eventually agreed once I said I'd pretend to be the one trying it on so the workers don't question anything. Which yeah it sucked larping as a woman, but I girlmode so it's whatever. I asked a worker to unlock the fitting room, headed in with the dress, swapped places with my friend once the worker left, and stood guard outside the door.
After three minutes of silence from the other side, I heard it slowly creak open with my friend's hand sticking out, which I grabbed confusedly and was yanked into the fitting room. After I recovered from the initial shock and embarrassment of being tossed around, I looked up and saw my friend absolutely beaming in the dress. This guy was never the most expressive or generally all too happy, but they were euphoric in that tiny ass room that could barely fit the two of us. They asked me to take a couple pictures as they posed and spun, and it really took me back to some of my own earliest trans milestones. In hindsight, there were plenty of signs from them I should've picked up on before, but I guess I was too preoccupied with my own mess.
Anyways, I left the fitting room, they left soon after me back in their normal clothes, they bought the dress "as a gift", and we caught up with everyone else. Fast forward to now, they've thanked me at least five different times for forcing them to try it on and has apparently worn the dress briefly every day since the purchase. There's also been a very noticeable shift in attitude since then. They were the type of guy to make self-deprecating jokes constantly, but has exploded with self confidence as of late. I asked about any name/identity changes, so far nothing beyond questioning since they were pretty deep into repping (religious family) and this is all new to them, but the progress they've made in such a short time has been beyond impressive to me. Idk how to end this so moral of the story is stop repping and let yourself be happy.
submitted by craycodile to 4tran4 [link] [comments]
After three minutes of silence from the other side, I heard it slowly creak open with my friend's hand sticking out, which I grabbed confusedly and was yanked into the fitting room. After I recovered from the initial shock and embarrassment of being tossed around, I looked up and saw my friend absolutely beaming in the dress. This guy was never the most expressive or generally all too happy, but they were euphoric in that tiny ass room that could barely fit the two of us. They asked me to take a couple pictures as they posed and spun, and it really took me back to some of my own earliest trans milestones. In hindsight, there were plenty of signs from them I should've picked up on before, but I guess I was too preoccupied with my own mess.
Anyways, I left the fitting room, they left soon after me back in their normal clothes, they bought the dress "as a gift", and we caught up with everyone else. Fast forward to now, they've thanked me at least five different times for forcing them to try it on and has apparently worn the dress briefly every day since the purchase. There's also been a very noticeable shift in attitude since then. They were the type of guy to make self-deprecating jokes constantly, but has exploded with self confidence as of late. I asked about any name/identity changes, so far nothing beyond questioning since they were pretty deep into repping (religious family) and this is all new to them, but the progress they've made in such a short time has been beyond impressive to me. Idk how to end this so moral of the story is stop repping and let yourself be happy.
2024.05.19 02:34 No_Respond_2054 Looking for advice on setting boundaries surrounding new baby!
I am 32 weeks pregnant and I have been having a hard time getting family (both mine but more so the in laws) to respect the boundaries I am trying to put in place around labor and delivery and after baby boy arrives.
I am thinking I would like for us to just let my in laws know that baby is safe and ready for visitors when that time comes rather than letting them know we are in labor. My mother in law told my husband today that she did not care how I felt about it or what I said, they would be in the waiting room expecting updates if she can’t be in the delivery room. She also had a lot to say when she found out I was planning on getting an epidural.
I have been a part of the family for over 15 years and my husband and I have been married for 10. We have always had a complicated relationship as she is extremely passive aggressive and will only tell her complaints about me to everyone else (a big issue that has been and is being worked on with my husband) and then I find out much later and there is no tactful way to bring the issue back up.
During my pregnancy she has done/said several things that have made me uncomfortable and just pushed me further in the direction of wanting to extremely limit my contact with her and by extension, our future son’s as well. She has made comments about my body changing (boobs getting bigger) to her other son in front of me, her thoughts on how my breastfeeding should go (must wear a cover as to not upset anyone), asking what baby’s name will be and after getting an answer suggesting alternatives of family member’s names (multiple times), saying I shouldn’t get an epidural, having a fit when she found out we weren’t planning on having a changing table (seriously?!), many other small off-hand comments, and now saying that she doesn’t care how I feel about it- she’ll be in the waiting room…
I’m trying to be kind and tactful but I’m pretty much to the end of my patience with this woman and I’m going to explode.
How do I deal with putting boundaries in place with both her and my family regarding baby? I am hoping for a good outcome for everyone but my stress levels are through the roof and I have a lot of resentment that I’m already feeling this way and being put in these positions before little man even arrives.
Thank you!
submitted by No_Respond_2054 to BabyBumps [link] [comments]
I am thinking I would like for us to just let my in laws know that baby is safe and ready for visitors when that time comes rather than letting them know we are in labor. My mother in law told my husband today that she did not care how I felt about it or what I said, they would be in the waiting room expecting updates if she can’t be in the delivery room. She also had a lot to say when she found out I was planning on getting an epidural.
I have been a part of the family for over 15 years and my husband and I have been married for 10. We have always had a complicated relationship as she is extremely passive aggressive and will only tell her complaints about me to everyone else (a big issue that has been and is being worked on with my husband) and then I find out much later and there is no tactful way to bring the issue back up.
During my pregnancy she has done/said several things that have made me uncomfortable and just pushed me further in the direction of wanting to extremely limit my contact with her and by extension, our future son’s as well. She has made comments about my body changing (boobs getting bigger) to her other son in front of me, her thoughts on how my breastfeeding should go (must wear a cover as to not upset anyone), asking what baby’s name will be and after getting an answer suggesting alternatives of family member’s names (multiple times), saying I shouldn’t get an epidural, having a fit when she found out we weren’t planning on having a changing table (seriously?!), many other small off-hand comments, and now saying that she doesn’t care how I feel about it- she’ll be in the waiting room…
I’m trying to be kind and tactful but I’m pretty much to the end of my patience with this woman and I’m going to explode.
How do I deal with putting boundaries in place with both her and my family regarding baby? I am hoping for a good outcome for everyone but my stress levels are through the roof and I have a lot of resentment that I’m already feeling this way and being put in these positions before little man even arrives.
Thank you!
2024.05.19 02:30 Trash_Tia When signing up for acting classes, never and mean NEVER audition for The S Class.
In hindsight, I should have known something was wrong with The Caeles Academy of Acting.
Maybe the fact that it doesn't exist to the outside world.
This place prided itself on famous alumni it didn't actually name, and a once in a lifetime opportunity to work with the best in the business.
It's what I wanted.
More than anything.
After enduring four years of high school with barely a semblance of a drama club (we met every month, and our teacher was an alcoholic), and countless failed auditions, I was ready to take my acting career seriously. I had one year.
According to my parents, I had one year to make a living from my passion.
If it didn't work out, I would be on the first plane back to Connecticut.
It's not like they didn't trust me. I think they were just scared I wouldn't be able to financially support myself. So, I got a job right out of high school and slipped a year. Drama schools are expensive, and college’s are cut-throat on who they take on. I found Caeles Academy by accident–or, I guess it found me?
After researching cheap drama classes, auditions, academy’s, literally anything to progress my career, an ad popped up.
Not exactly flashy.
Just a date, a time, and a promise that they only take the best. I ignored it, but throughout the week, I started getting more ads. Just the words, “IMPRESS US - - JOIN CAELES ACADEMY NOW.”
Followed by, “BE WITH THE BEST, AND BE THE BEST. JOIN THE S CLASS NOW.”
When I googled the academy, nothing came up.
I gave up, clicking on the ad, which sent me straight to an application form.
I filled in my details as more of a joke. But I wasn't expecting to get an email back. Again, it was a time, a date, and that exact same tagline: “Impress us.”
However, Caeles Academy was different from what I imagined.
I was expecting a university building, or at least some modern structure.
Judging from their marketing and ads, I figured they could at least afford decent premises. Though I was mistaken. When I stepped out of the Uber, I found myself staring at what looked like an abandoned office tower, a red-brick monolith in the middle of nowhere.
Which was crazy, because I swore a girl wearing a bikini had strode through the doors, with nothing but her phone, and a coffee tucked under her elbow.
According to the text sent from the academy, the auditioning rooms were on the third floor.
Tipping my head back, the checkerboard of broken windows didn't exactly instil confidence.
Neither did the clunky set of automatic doors that took a while to open.
It was a summer's day, and the heat was already baking through my dress, sweat sticky on the back of my neck.
I wanted to make a good impression, but the heels were a little over the top.
Though I had also seen a girl casually walk in wearing a two piece bikini.
“Well?”
Freddie’s voice made me jump. I forgot I was on the phone to him. I was excited the whole car-ride, already high on five coffees, and now I was silent.
If I perceived the ‘academy’ from an objective standpoint, it definitely looked like the perfect place to be brutally murdered. But my own personal opinion was it was.. okay.
“What's it like?”
I pretended not to see a rat scuttling under an old candy wrapper.
“It's… fine.”
“Just fine?”
I could hear the smirk in my friend’s tone. He couldn't wait to tell me it was a scam, and had been reminding me all week I was essentially willingly selling myself to the black market. I was stubborn, so, fine sounded better than my initial first impression.
Which was to turn around, walk away, and completely block the place from my memory.
Unfortunately, at that moment, I valued my pride over my awareness.
“It's… okay.” I said, trying to find positives. I was staring at a looming grey building with shattered windows and a resident rat living near the door. I had a hard time figuring out how the girl from earlier had just casually strode inside, barefoot too. I glanced down at the ground, immediately regretting it.
Like there weren't bits of chewing gum and grime stuck to the concrete.
“Huh.” Freddie said, his tone creeping into teasing territory. “You're really selling it.”
“It just looks like a building,” I muttered, my gaze glued to the rat, who looked a little too comfortable.
Maybe it was a pet.
I was getting progressively more infuriated the more I stared down this place. Judging from the decades old writing ingrained into the door, it used to be a dentist surgery. “What do you want me to say?” I wasn't even trying to hide the scorn from my voice. “It's a building that looks like an academy.”
“Can you send a picture?” Freddie asked, “Ooh, wait, I'll face-time you.”
“That's, uh, that’s not really necessary–”
I was cut off, suddenly, when a guy threw himself through the automatic doors, palms first. He took two stumbled steps forwards, one back, and lifted his head, half lidded eyes finding the sky, before dropping to his knees and heaving up pinkish liquid.
I could see him trying to hold it in, slamming his hands over his mouth, only for it to splurge through his fingers, showering the ground in greyish pink froth.
Like he'd downed a bottle of Pepto Bismol.
Inching towards him, I realized it was Pepto Bismol.
The stink made my own stomach churn.
“Missy?”
I found my voice. “Uh, can I call you back later?”
Before my friend could answer, I ended the call, slipping my phone in my pocket.
The guy was still heaving, coughing up globules of pink.
“Are you okay?”
The sound of my heels click-clacking on concrete made me cringe. The guy noticed, flinching away. Closer, and I could see his scraggly blonde hair.
He was handsome.
Without the bile spewing down his chin.
Early twenties, wearing a fitted white shirt now covered in streaks of bright pink. Part of me wanted to make a half-hearted joke, but getting even closer, so close I could smell his pepto-breath, I noticed he was trembling, his hands clenched into fists.
When I attempted to awkwardly pat him on the shoulder, he twisted around, so fast my morning coffee slithered its way back up my throat.
His eyes were wide, almost feral, studying me like a wild animal.
I noticed the whites of his pupils were red, like he'd burst a blood vessel.
Theatre kids were intense, though I had never met THIS kind of intense.
“Are you… going in there?” The guy’s voice was a child-like whimper I wasn't expecting.
It looked like he was slowly regaining clarity, staring down at his filthy shirt, his hands stained bright pink.
I nodded, uncertainly, offering him my water. “Yeah. Did you audition?”
He shoved it away, slapping himself in the face. “I… I don't know.”
“You… don’t know?”
Suddenly, it was like something had contorted in his expression, a switch being pulled. I wasn't expecting him to twist around so fast. The guy slowly cocked his head, his lips breaking into a grin. His eyes, however, stayed the same.
“Of course I've auditioned.” He said, with a laugh.
“It was the best experience of my life!" His mouth formed an almost mocking frown.
“Unfortunately, I didn't make the cut. Which is a real shame. I'm sure Caeles would have benefited from my talents.”
What was weird, is that his mouth was moving, but he wasn't even looking at me, frenzied eyes caught in an oblivion I couldn't see.
When he did look at me, his expression crumpled all over again.
Pepto jumped to his feet, brushing himself down.
I couldn't take his over the top smile seriously, when his eyes were screaming, hollowed out caverns silently begging me to listen.
This guy was fucking crazy.
“Wait.” Pepto whispered, when I turned to walk away.
He pulled out his phone, tapping the screen before shoving it in my face.
I HAD SO MUCH FUN AT THE CAELES ACADEMY AUDITIONS :)
When I could only stare at him in confusion, Pepto’s gaze flicked to his phone, swiping bile from his lips.
His eyes went cartoon wide, like he couldn't believe what he himself was typing.
“That… that's not what I was trying to say!” He tried retyping it, but the guy was just writing strings of emoji hearts.
I didn't know what to say. I had dealt with rejection before, but I had never gone this far. Pepto was having a full on mental breakdown, his body shuddering, teeth chattering, blinking eyes and lips parting as if to speak, but choking on his words. When he started clawing out his hair, I took the opportunity to make a quick getaway.
Before I could make it to the doors, though, Pepto jumped in front of me, waving his phone directly in my face.
“Just…” he pointed at the screen. “It won't let me…” Growing frustrated with himself, he let out a wet sounding sob, clawing his fingers through his hair.
“Fuck, it won't let me…it won't let me type! It's not letting me type!”
By now, he had tufts of hair stuck between his fingernails. I don't know why his first reaction was to immediately try ripping his hair out.
A quick glance at my own phone reminded me of my own audition that was in five minutes.
Meanwhile, I was dealing with what I was pretty sure was delusion, denial, or a mixture of both.
I was considering pushing past him, when Pepto’s phone screen hit me in the face. Again.
This time, though, there was coherent writing.
“FIND LUKE.”
“Luke?” I said. “Who's that?”
“Luke!” The guy was bouncing on the heels of his feet. “He's my…” Pepto drifted off, his eyes going vacant, as if I could physically see his brain being plucked from his skull. Pepto dropped his phone, and I grabbed it before it could hit the ground. His hands went to his curls, clawing, scratching, until he was drawing blood across his forehead.
“I… I don't know! I can't… I can't remember. Luke. He was my… he was my… I don't know, I can't… I can't–”
I stumbled back when he let out a shriek, scratching at his face.
“Fuck!” He whimpered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Pepto grabbed my shoulders, shaking me, his fingers digging into my skin.
“I don't know who he is.” He gritted out, pink froth pooling from his lips.
Pepto broke out into a sob. “I don't… I don't know who he is, but you can find him, right? You can… you can find…”
Again, he trailed off mid sentence, his hands going limp around my shoulders.
I managed to side step him, swallowing a cry.
“Yeah, I'll, um, I'll find him for you.”
Pepto backed away, suddenly, stumbling over himself.
His gaze found mine, vacant, like a baby deer.
“Find who?”
I didn't wait around to answer him, pushing through the doors and stepping inside.
The interior was unsurprisingly even worse than the exterior.
The elevator was broken, so I had to run up three flights of stairs.
I expected at least an attempt at an academy, even in the dregs of an old dentist surgery.
What I got, though, was a never ending staircase, obnoxious photos of teeth greeting me on every level.
The third floor was… less clinical.
I strode directly into a waiting room filled with college aged students, either sitting on plastic chairs, or standing around, rehearsing.
The room itself was cosy enough, a navy carpet and a TV playing a random Twitch stream.
Situated in the middle was a desk with a bored looking woman behind it.
Her smile was fake. I could understand her pain. She was stuck in a room with theatre kids all day.
“Sign here.” She prodded a sheet of paper.
I was convinced her voice was AI.
While I was scribbling my details, I took a moment to notice the stark difference from the kids entering the room, to the ones leaving. The kids entering wore wide, confident smiles and were social butterflies, chatting amongst themselves.
The kids leaving reminded me of pod people.
They left the room silent, in an orderly line with dazed smiles on their faces, like they weren't sure where they were.
I watched one guy walk directly into the wall instead of taking a left toward the exit, and a girl straight up just toppled down the stairs.
The kids waiting with me named them rejects.
I wasn't convinced until I glimpsed an empty bottle of Pepto Bismol sitting on the floor by the window.
Thinking back to Pepto, that made a lot of sense.
I was still dazedly staring at the bottle, when my name was called.
Jumping to my feet, I did my best to calm myself down, straightening my ponytail. Pepto had really screwed with my head. I could barely even remember the lines I had been rehearsing for a week straight.
I was muttering my lines to myself, when I stepped through the door.
The door that apparently turned you into a pod-person on the way out.
For a moment, I thought I was blinded by stage lights.
It was so bright.
The glow bathing me was clinical, stabbing into my eyes.
When I blinked, I found myself standing in front of three shadows sitting in front of me.
Their chairs were made of leather, far different from the plastic ones in the waiting room.
So, they did have filthy cash.
I was looking at one man, and two women.
They were… average?
I expected them to be more glitzier, but they were just regular people.
The man was in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, a stiff looking brunette wearing a suit and tie, one leg crossed over the other. His eyes were narrowed slightly, lips curved into the start of a smile. Like I amused him.
The women were polar opposites.
One of them was my Mom’s age, grey hair and floral clothing. She took a sip of water, her gaze burning into me.
Google told me not to be intimidated by their stares, but it was impossible.
These people were carving holes into my skull.
Sitting next to her, a younger girl who seemed to own the color red.
Her hair simmered, blood red, while she herself was sculpted in a dress, perfect cherry lips spread in a wide smile.
With a little too many teeth.
They studied my face like I was already theirs, drinking in every inch of me.
Freddie said I had to find a weakness in their expression and use it to my advantage.
If I could find the prick of a genuine smile, I could become their favorite.
“Hi!” I said. My caffeine intake was starting to take effect.
I didn't realize I was bouncing up and down until I caught myself.
Red’s smile stretched wider.
Maybe they liked my eagerness.
“My name is Misa.” I introduced myself, staying casual, keeping my arms by my sides. “I'm twenty one years old–”
I choked on my next words when Red spoke up. “Impress us, Misa,” Her voice was a smooth, almost seductive rasp, and I felt myself fall into it, enveloped in sugar that was too sweet, and yet I couldn't stop myself. She folded her arms across her chest, her gaze challenging me to do something different. To make her want me.
“Show us something we have never seen before.” She stood up, cat-like eyes narrowing, “Show us how desperate you are to join this prestigious class.”
I nodded, and began.
I had planned a whole monologue, practised it over and over again, forcing Freddie to judge me with a none biassed opinion.
I was three lines in, when Red started laughing.
“Stop.”
I did, my cheeks heating up, and she started clapping.
“Sweetie, oh, stop, you're adorable!” She said, her lips curving into a cruel smirk.
She leaned forward, like I was something that entertained her, jostling her heeled foot. “We don't take amateurs. I think you need to go back to school.”
This woman was definitely a psychopath.
Empty eyes sparkling with a gleam that definitely enjoyed humiliating candidates, and a twisted smile that was a little too wide. Red made me want to crawl into the ground.
She made me want to turn around, leave the room, and quit my dream. I was aware of my own fury, my embarrassment turning my cheeks crimson. I matched her.
Maybe that's what she wanted all along. To wear the color of her victims.
Taking a shaky step back, I started to nod, started to agree, my mouth choking with the words, “You're right. I'm sorry for wasting your time."
I had never received proper constructive criticism from a professional standpoint.
Which meant I really did suck.
But I didn't move. I didn't want to move, and Red continued laughing, her companions sitting in silence.
The man rolled his eyes with a loud, exaggerated sigh.
Like I was boring.
The older woman pulled out her phone.
“Misa, you are…cute.” Red said. “But you're not quite what we are looking for.”
I wasn't sure I could admit it right there, but she made me feel things.
Like I was ignited.
Like I was going to prove this crazy bitch wrong.
I found my voice, strong and confident, despite my hammering heart.
“Give me another chance.”
Red’s lips curled. “So cute, Misa. Oh, sugar bear, It would be better if you left the room. Unless you want to embarrass yourself further! In that case, be my guest!”
She turned her attention to her nails, nudging the guy.
“Dinner?” She hummed. “I'm thinking of Italian. You are quite the wine connoisseur, Nicholas. Why don't you introduce me to your favorite?”
“Hey.” I blurted.
They ignored me, getting a little too close.
I don't know why I continued, reading my lines, screaming them, so I would be heard. I read them perfectly, and tweaking the genre from drama to romance, and then to horror. I became three different characters, a high school girl struggling with cancer, a final girl, and a woman going through a divorce.
I was fucking perfect.
But they weren't listening to me, caught up in their own conversation.
I tried again.
And again.
And again.
By now, I was on my knees, my fingers ripping into my hair. I was seeing red.
“We want originality, Misa,” Red said, sucking her teeth.
Her voice crawling into my skull was enough.
She still wanted me.
The thought polluted the back of my mind, taking a strangling hold. She still wanted me. When I lifted my head, Red wasn't looking at me, her gaze on the table grains. “Show us something new.”
I got to my feet, panting, my breath in my throat.
I became a screaming, strangled mess, a woman who lost her baby.
Red’s interest was piqued. Only slightly. Through my fraying vision, she slowly turned in her chair. “Again.” She clapped her hands, “Come on, Misa! We want new! We want never been fucking done before! Are you deaf?”
I couldn't stop the sobs escaping my mouth.
They lost interest again, right in the middle of my reading.
“Why can't you look at me?” I found myself spluttering.
When the man pulled out a bottle of water, I pulled off my heel and lobbed it at his face.
“Look at me!”
He did. Slowly. His gaze found me, for perhaps the first time.
Not as an amateur, but as a potential candidate.
Around the twentieth attempt, I started to laugh. Never been done before? I could feel my fingernails already in my scalp, clawing chunks of my hair out.
Reality contorted, and I felt myself drop to my knees. I was still laughing, spluttering, sobbing. I could still hear her in my head. Never Been Done Before. I started slowly, dragging my fingernails down my face until I felt the harsh sting.
“Again.” Red said, and her voice led me to stare down at my hands, at pinkish flesh glued to my bones, fleshy mounds.
So easy to tear. I didn't even feel it.
Only the sudden, unbridled euphoria of biting into my own skin, locking in my jaw, and ripping into myself.
When I tore it from the bone, warmth filled my mouth, and I was choking, guzzling down my own flesh, mulling it in my mouth and swallowing.
I can't remember how I got so deep, and why I didn't stop.
Why I didn't fucking scream.
But it didn't matter.
Red was standing up. She was clapping, her lips spread into a grin.
Her applause filled me with stars.
So, I ripped my hair from my scalp, a hysterical giggle escaping my lips.
She loved me.
I could see her jumping up and down, clapping.
Louder, and louder.
Her applause controlled me, twisting and contorting me into hers.
I didn't even think. I wanted to impress her, and doing this was doing just that.
My fingers were delving into my right eye socket, clawing my eye out. It didn't even hurt. Not with her thundering applause that was deafening, beautiful, an orchestra in my ears.
When I was semi conscious, my eye was crushed in my hand, but my vision was still mine, almost too clear. I could see streaks of red blurred between my lashes. My hair was caught between my fingers. But I wanted to do more.
When I stumbled to my feet, Red’s smile was so beautiful.
The man, however, looked horrified.
“Someone bring in the one of the successes,” Red’s voice was a shrill giggle, “Bring him in!” she clapped her hands together, and I spat out a fleshy thing. “I want to see them together! I want to see the future in front of us!”
Footsteps coming towards me in slow, shuddery thumps. I looked up, and a shadow was dancing around me.
When I slowly rose to my feet, I half realized I’d bitten my toe off. The shadow had a face, a boy who was younger than me. I think he used to have hair, but half of it was gone, half of it was still stuck between his fists. When I found his eyes, I found twin caverns instead.
Eyes that were still physically there, and yet there was no life.
No spark.
I was staring at a dead body, a flesh puppet who had lost his strings.
When he grabbed my hands, pulling me into a waltz, I caught a smear of scarlet trickling down the back of his neck. When I followed it upwards, his head was covered, slick, dripping with red.
Like me, he matched her too.
And he was beautiful, she told me, her push, her thunderous applause, guiding me into a waltz.
His feet moved, perfecting every step, and my foggy mind couldn't understand why. He matched my every move, the two of us floating across the floor.
My feet knew the steps before my mind.
How could he dance? I thought, dizzily.
How could he dance, when smeared scarlet followed his twisting, and turning and pirouetting feet?
Because underneath that swimming clinical light, the back of the boy’s head had been carved away, a perfectly sculpted cavern where his brain should have been. I could see the severed stem, where it had cleanly plucked out.
His fingers cradled in mine were wet. Swimming in blood.
His own blood.
Spinning round and around, I imagined myself as a princess.
I saw an 18th century ballroom lit up around us. Glittering smiles and glasses of champagne, long, flowing ball gowns.
I blinked, and my head was tipped back, gliding in blood once again.
When he pulled me to his chest, I stumbled, and a name came to light.
Luke.
I had found him.
Our finishing spin left me hard to breathe.
My body was broken, ripped into, and yet somehow not.
By the time we were finished, the two of us bowing, my mind was full of fog.
Cotton candy.
“Congratulations!” Red’s smile was inhuman, stretching right off of her face.
“You're in the S class!”
I was led through a door that wasn't the one I entered from. Inside the room were a dozen or so students, kneeling on the floor. They were missing parts of themselves, like unfinished puzzle pieces.
I dropped onto my knees next to a girl without a head. I could only see her torso, but I knew she was smiling.
Looming over us, was the goddess Athena drenched in blood that was still wet.
Dripping, pooling from every crevice of her dress.
Looking closer, this statue was moving.
Something sickly crept into my mouth.
Her right eye was human, a twitching eyeball sandwiched inside the stone.
It didn't match her. It was wrong, horrifying, like a painting, a real human eye struggling to focus on us.
And then, my own gaze found the statues head, where a real human brain had been forced inside perfect white, pink, greyish mush dripping down the sculpted, slender neck.
I could see where it had been pushed, pulverised through the stone.
The statue’s singular eye found me.
Its dancing pupil jumped up and down.
Before it blinked.
Next to me, Luke was on his knees, as if in prayer.
I can't remember leaving the room.
I just remember running.
Back down the stairs, stumbling, staggering over myself.
I was screaming by the time I reached the doors.
They opened, as usual.
But I couldn't get through. I tried, but I was slamming into something I couldn't see.
Pepto was still waiting outside. The sky was dark.
When he saw me, he stumbled over, slamming his hands into the glass.
I couldn't even understand myself. I was just fucking screaming.
Pepto held up his phone.
“DID YOU FIND HIM?”
I shook my head.
“No.” I lied.
I can't tell him the truth. I don't even know what it is.
“I can't get out!”
Pepto nodded slowly, typing something and showing me his phone.
I'm getting you both out of there. I think I know how I can get inside.
It's been 3 days, and Pepto is yet to return.
I’ve tried multiple times to cry out for the H word. But it won't let me type it.
Please H me. I need to get out of this place.
Fuck. Get me OUT OF HERE.
Classes start tomorrow.
submitted by Trash_Tia to nosleep [link] [comments]
Maybe the fact that it doesn't exist to the outside world.
This place prided itself on famous alumni it didn't actually name, and a once in a lifetime opportunity to work with the best in the business.
It's what I wanted.
More than anything.
After enduring four years of high school with barely a semblance of a drama club (we met every month, and our teacher was an alcoholic), and countless failed auditions, I was ready to take my acting career seriously. I had one year.
According to my parents, I had one year to make a living from my passion.
If it didn't work out, I would be on the first plane back to Connecticut.
It's not like they didn't trust me. I think they were just scared I wouldn't be able to financially support myself. So, I got a job right out of high school and slipped a year. Drama schools are expensive, and college’s are cut-throat on who they take on. I found Caeles Academy by accident–or, I guess it found me?
After researching cheap drama classes, auditions, academy’s, literally anything to progress my career, an ad popped up.
Not exactly flashy.
Just a date, a time, and a promise that they only take the best. I ignored it, but throughout the week, I started getting more ads. Just the words, “IMPRESS US - - JOIN CAELES ACADEMY NOW.”
Followed by, “BE WITH THE BEST, AND BE THE BEST. JOIN THE S CLASS NOW.”
When I googled the academy, nothing came up.
I gave up, clicking on the ad, which sent me straight to an application form.
I filled in my details as more of a joke. But I wasn't expecting to get an email back. Again, it was a time, a date, and that exact same tagline: “Impress us.”
However, Caeles Academy was different from what I imagined.
I was expecting a university building, or at least some modern structure.
Judging from their marketing and ads, I figured they could at least afford decent premises. Though I was mistaken. When I stepped out of the Uber, I found myself staring at what looked like an abandoned office tower, a red-brick monolith in the middle of nowhere.
Which was crazy, because I swore a girl wearing a bikini had strode through the doors, with nothing but her phone, and a coffee tucked under her elbow.
According to the text sent from the academy, the auditioning rooms were on the third floor.
Tipping my head back, the checkerboard of broken windows didn't exactly instil confidence.
Neither did the clunky set of automatic doors that took a while to open.
It was a summer's day, and the heat was already baking through my dress, sweat sticky on the back of my neck.
I wanted to make a good impression, but the heels were a little over the top.
Though I had also seen a girl casually walk in wearing a two piece bikini.
“Well?”
Freddie’s voice made me jump. I forgot I was on the phone to him. I was excited the whole car-ride, already high on five coffees, and now I was silent.
If I perceived the ‘academy’ from an objective standpoint, it definitely looked like the perfect place to be brutally murdered. But my own personal opinion was it was.. okay.
“What's it like?”
I pretended not to see a rat scuttling under an old candy wrapper.
“It's… fine.”
“Just fine?”
I could hear the smirk in my friend’s tone. He couldn't wait to tell me it was a scam, and had been reminding me all week I was essentially willingly selling myself to the black market. I was stubborn, so, fine sounded better than my initial first impression.
Which was to turn around, walk away, and completely block the place from my memory.
Unfortunately, at that moment, I valued my pride over my awareness.
“It's… okay.” I said, trying to find positives. I was staring at a looming grey building with shattered windows and a resident rat living near the door. I had a hard time figuring out how the girl from earlier had just casually strode inside, barefoot too. I glanced down at the ground, immediately regretting it.
Like there weren't bits of chewing gum and grime stuck to the concrete.
“Huh.” Freddie said, his tone creeping into teasing territory. “You're really selling it.”
“It just looks like a building,” I muttered, my gaze glued to the rat, who looked a little too comfortable.
Maybe it was a pet.
I was getting progressively more infuriated the more I stared down this place. Judging from the decades old writing ingrained into the door, it used to be a dentist surgery. “What do you want me to say?” I wasn't even trying to hide the scorn from my voice. “It's a building that looks like an academy.”
“Can you send a picture?” Freddie asked, “Ooh, wait, I'll face-time you.”
“That's, uh, that’s not really necessary–”
I was cut off, suddenly, when a guy threw himself through the automatic doors, palms first. He took two stumbled steps forwards, one back, and lifted his head, half lidded eyes finding the sky, before dropping to his knees and heaving up pinkish liquid.
I could see him trying to hold it in, slamming his hands over his mouth, only for it to splurge through his fingers, showering the ground in greyish pink froth.
Like he'd downed a bottle of Pepto Bismol.
Inching towards him, I realized it was Pepto Bismol.
The stink made my own stomach churn.
“Missy?”
I found my voice. “Uh, can I call you back later?”
Before my friend could answer, I ended the call, slipping my phone in my pocket.
The guy was still heaving, coughing up globules of pink.
“Are you okay?”
The sound of my heels click-clacking on concrete made me cringe. The guy noticed, flinching away. Closer, and I could see his scraggly blonde hair.
He was handsome.
Without the bile spewing down his chin.
Early twenties, wearing a fitted white shirt now covered in streaks of bright pink. Part of me wanted to make a half-hearted joke, but getting even closer, so close I could smell his pepto-breath, I noticed he was trembling, his hands clenched into fists.
When I attempted to awkwardly pat him on the shoulder, he twisted around, so fast my morning coffee slithered its way back up my throat.
His eyes were wide, almost feral, studying me like a wild animal.
I noticed the whites of his pupils were red, like he'd burst a blood vessel.
Theatre kids were intense, though I had never met THIS kind of intense.
“Are you… going in there?” The guy’s voice was a child-like whimper I wasn't expecting.
It looked like he was slowly regaining clarity, staring down at his filthy shirt, his hands stained bright pink.
I nodded, uncertainly, offering him my water. “Yeah. Did you audition?”
He shoved it away, slapping himself in the face. “I… I don't know.”
“You… don’t know?”
Suddenly, it was like something had contorted in his expression, a switch being pulled. I wasn't expecting him to twist around so fast. The guy slowly cocked his head, his lips breaking into a grin. His eyes, however, stayed the same.
“Of course I've auditioned.” He said, with a laugh.
“It was the best experience of my life!" His mouth formed an almost mocking frown.
“Unfortunately, I didn't make the cut. Which is a real shame. I'm sure Caeles would have benefited from my talents.”
What was weird, is that his mouth was moving, but he wasn't even looking at me, frenzied eyes caught in an oblivion I couldn't see.
When he did look at me, his expression crumpled all over again.
Pepto jumped to his feet, brushing himself down.
I couldn't take his over the top smile seriously, when his eyes were screaming, hollowed out caverns silently begging me to listen.
This guy was fucking crazy.
“Wait.” Pepto whispered, when I turned to walk away.
He pulled out his phone, tapping the screen before shoving it in my face.
I HAD SO MUCH FUN AT THE CAELES ACADEMY AUDITIONS :)
When I could only stare at him in confusion, Pepto’s gaze flicked to his phone, swiping bile from his lips.
His eyes went cartoon wide, like he couldn't believe what he himself was typing.
“That… that's not what I was trying to say!” He tried retyping it, but the guy was just writing strings of emoji hearts.
I didn't know what to say. I had dealt with rejection before, but I had never gone this far. Pepto was having a full on mental breakdown, his body shuddering, teeth chattering, blinking eyes and lips parting as if to speak, but choking on his words. When he started clawing out his hair, I took the opportunity to make a quick getaway.
Before I could make it to the doors, though, Pepto jumped in front of me, waving his phone directly in my face.
“Just…” he pointed at the screen. “It won't let me…” Growing frustrated with himself, he let out a wet sounding sob, clawing his fingers through his hair.
“Fuck, it won't let me…it won't let me type! It's not letting me type!”
By now, he had tufts of hair stuck between his fingernails. I don't know why his first reaction was to immediately try ripping his hair out.
A quick glance at my own phone reminded me of my own audition that was in five minutes.
Meanwhile, I was dealing with what I was pretty sure was delusion, denial, or a mixture of both.
I was considering pushing past him, when Pepto’s phone screen hit me in the face. Again.
This time, though, there was coherent writing.
“FIND LUKE.”
“Luke?” I said. “Who's that?”
“Luke!” The guy was bouncing on the heels of his feet. “He's my…” Pepto drifted off, his eyes going vacant, as if I could physically see his brain being plucked from his skull. Pepto dropped his phone, and I grabbed it before it could hit the ground. His hands went to his curls, clawing, scratching, until he was drawing blood across his forehead.
“I… I don't know! I can't… I can't remember. Luke. He was my… he was my… I don't know, I can't… I can't–”
I stumbled back when he let out a shriek, scratching at his face.
“Fuck!” He whimpered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Pepto grabbed my shoulders, shaking me, his fingers digging into my skin.
“I don't know who he is.” He gritted out, pink froth pooling from his lips.
Pepto broke out into a sob. “I don't… I don't know who he is, but you can find him, right? You can… you can find…”
Again, he trailed off mid sentence, his hands going limp around my shoulders.
I managed to side step him, swallowing a cry.
“Yeah, I'll, um, I'll find him for you.”
Pepto backed away, suddenly, stumbling over himself.
His gaze found mine, vacant, like a baby deer.
“Find who?”
I didn't wait around to answer him, pushing through the doors and stepping inside.
The interior was unsurprisingly even worse than the exterior.
The elevator was broken, so I had to run up three flights of stairs.
I expected at least an attempt at an academy, even in the dregs of an old dentist surgery.
What I got, though, was a never ending staircase, obnoxious photos of teeth greeting me on every level.
The third floor was… less clinical.
I strode directly into a waiting room filled with college aged students, either sitting on plastic chairs, or standing around, rehearsing.
The room itself was cosy enough, a navy carpet and a TV playing a random Twitch stream.
Situated in the middle was a desk with a bored looking woman behind it.
Her smile was fake. I could understand her pain. She was stuck in a room with theatre kids all day.
“Sign here.” She prodded a sheet of paper.
I was convinced her voice was AI.
While I was scribbling my details, I took a moment to notice the stark difference from the kids entering the room, to the ones leaving. The kids entering wore wide, confident smiles and were social butterflies, chatting amongst themselves.
The kids leaving reminded me of pod people.
They left the room silent, in an orderly line with dazed smiles on their faces, like they weren't sure where they were.
I watched one guy walk directly into the wall instead of taking a left toward the exit, and a girl straight up just toppled down the stairs.
The kids waiting with me named them rejects.
I wasn't convinced until I glimpsed an empty bottle of Pepto Bismol sitting on the floor by the window.
Thinking back to Pepto, that made a lot of sense.
I was still dazedly staring at the bottle, when my name was called.
Jumping to my feet, I did my best to calm myself down, straightening my ponytail. Pepto had really screwed with my head. I could barely even remember the lines I had been rehearsing for a week straight.
I was muttering my lines to myself, when I stepped through the door.
The door that apparently turned you into a pod-person on the way out.
For a moment, I thought I was blinded by stage lights.
It was so bright.
The glow bathing me was clinical, stabbing into my eyes.
When I blinked, I found myself standing in front of three shadows sitting in front of me.
Their chairs were made of leather, far different from the plastic ones in the waiting room.
So, they did have filthy cash.
I was looking at one man, and two women.
They were… average?
I expected them to be more glitzier, but they were just regular people.
The man was in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, a stiff looking brunette wearing a suit and tie, one leg crossed over the other. His eyes were narrowed slightly, lips curved into the start of a smile. Like I amused him.
The women were polar opposites.
One of them was my Mom’s age, grey hair and floral clothing. She took a sip of water, her gaze burning into me.
Google told me not to be intimidated by their stares, but it was impossible.
These people were carving holes into my skull.
Sitting next to her, a younger girl who seemed to own the color red.
Her hair simmered, blood red, while she herself was sculpted in a dress, perfect cherry lips spread in a wide smile.
With a little too many teeth.
They studied my face like I was already theirs, drinking in every inch of me.
Freddie said I had to find a weakness in their expression and use it to my advantage.
If I could find the prick of a genuine smile, I could become their favorite.
“Hi!” I said. My caffeine intake was starting to take effect.
I didn't realize I was bouncing up and down until I caught myself.
Red’s smile stretched wider.
Maybe they liked my eagerness.
“My name is Misa.” I introduced myself, staying casual, keeping my arms by my sides. “I'm twenty one years old–”
I choked on my next words when Red spoke up. “Impress us, Misa,” Her voice was a smooth, almost seductive rasp, and I felt myself fall into it, enveloped in sugar that was too sweet, and yet I couldn't stop myself. She folded her arms across her chest, her gaze challenging me to do something different. To make her want me.
“Show us something we have never seen before.” She stood up, cat-like eyes narrowing, “Show us how desperate you are to join this prestigious class.”
I nodded, and began.
I had planned a whole monologue, practised it over and over again, forcing Freddie to judge me with a none biassed opinion.
I was three lines in, when Red started laughing.
“Stop.”
I did, my cheeks heating up, and she started clapping.
“Sweetie, oh, stop, you're adorable!” She said, her lips curving into a cruel smirk.
She leaned forward, like I was something that entertained her, jostling her heeled foot. “We don't take amateurs. I think you need to go back to school.”
This woman was definitely a psychopath.
Empty eyes sparkling with a gleam that definitely enjoyed humiliating candidates, and a twisted smile that was a little too wide. Red made me want to crawl into the ground.
She made me want to turn around, leave the room, and quit my dream. I was aware of my own fury, my embarrassment turning my cheeks crimson. I matched her.
Maybe that's what she wanted all along. To wear the color of her victims.
Taking a shaky step back, I started to nod, started to agree, my mouth choking with the words, “You're right. I'm sorry for wasting your time."
I had never received proper constructive criticism from a professional standpoint.
Which meant I really did suck.
But I didn't move. I didn't want to move, and Red continued laughing, her companions sitting in silence.
The man rolled his eyes with a loud, exaggerated sigh.
Like I was boring.
The older woman pulled out her phone.
“Misa, you are…cute.” Red said. “But you're not quite what we are looking for.”
I wasn't sure I could admit it right there, but she made me feel things.
Like I was ignited.
Like I was going to prove this crazy bitch wrong.
I found my voice, strong and confident, despite my hammering heart.
“Give me another chance.”
Red’s lips curled. “So cute, Misa. Oh, sugar bear, It would be better if you left the room. Unless you want to embarrass yourself further! In that case, be my guest!”
She turned her attention to her nails, nudging the guy.
“Dinner?” She hummed. “I'm thinking of Italian. You are quite the wine connoisseur, Nicholas. Why don't you introduce me to your favorite?”
“Hey.” I blurted.
They ignored me, getting a little too close.
I don't know why I continued, reading my lines, screaming them, so I would be heard. I read them perfectly, and tweaking the genre from drama to romance, and then to horror. I became three different characters, a high school girl struggling with cancer, a final girl, and a woman going through a divorce.
I was fucking perfect.
But they weren't listening to me, caught up in their own conversation.
I tried again.
And again.
And again.
By now, I was on my knees, my fingers ripping into my hair. I was seeing red.
“We want originality, Misa,” Red said, sucking her teeth.
Her voice crawling into my skull was enough.
She still wanted me.
The thought polluted the back of my mind, taking a strangling hold. She still wanted me. When I lifted my head, Red wasn't looking at me, her gaze on the table grains. “Show us something new.”
I got to my feet, panting, my breath in my throat.
I became a screaming, strangled mess, a woman who lost her baby.
Red’s interest was piqued. Only slightly. Through my fraying vision, she slowly turned in her chair. “Again.” She clapped her hands, “Come on, Misa! We want new! We want never been fucking done before! Are you deaf?”
I couldn't stop the sobs escaping my mouth.
They lost interest again, right in the middle of my reading.
“Why can't you look at me?” I found myself spluttering.
When the man pulled out a bottle of water, I pulled off my heel and lobbed it at his face.
“Look at me!”
He did. Slowly. His gaze found me, for perhaps the first time.
Not as an amateur, but as a potential candidate.
Around the twentieth attempt, I started to laugh. Never been done before? I could feel my fingernails already in my scalp, clawing chunks of my hair out.
Reality contorted, and I felt myself drop to my knees. I was still laughing, spluttering, sobbing. I could still hear her in my head. Never Been Done Before. I started slowly, dragging my fingernails down my face until I felt the harsh sting.
“Again.” Red said, and her voice led me to stare down at my hands, at pinkish flesh glued to my bones, fleshy mounds.
So easy to tear. I didn't even feel it.
Only the sudden, unbridled euphoria of biting into my own skin, locking in my jaw, and ripping into myself.
When I tore it from the bone, warmth filled my mouth, and I was choking, guzzling down my own flesh, mulling it in my mouth and swallowing.
I can't remember how I got so deep, and why I didn't stop.
Why I didn't fucking scream.
But it didn't matter.
Red was standing up. She was clapping, her lips spread into a grin.
Her applause filled me with stars.
So, I ripped my hair from my scalp, a hysterical giggle escaping my lips.
She loved me.
I could see her jumping up and down, clapping.
Louder, and louder.
Her applause controlled me, twisting and contorting me into hers.
I didn't even think. I wanted to impress her, and doing this was doing just that.
My fingers were delving into my right eye socket, clawing my eye out. It didn't even hurt. Not with her thundering applause that was deafening, beautiful, an orchestra in my ears.
When I was semi conscious, my eye was crushed in my hand, but my vision was still mine, almost too clear. I could see streaks of red blurred between my lashes. My hair was caught between my fingers. But I wanted to do more.
When I stumbled to my feet, Red’s smile was so beautiful.
The man, however, looked horrified.
“Someone bring in the one of the successes,” Red’s voice was a shrill giggle, “Bring him in!” she clapped her hands together, and I spat out a fleshy thing. “I want to see them together! I want to see the future in front of us!”
Footsteps coming towards me in slow, shuddery thumps. I looked up, and a shadow was dancing around me.
When I slowly rose to my feet, I half realized I’d bitten my toe off. The shadow had a face, a boy who was younger than me. I think he used to have hair, but half of it was gone, half of it was still stuck between his fists. When I found his eyes, I found twin caverns instead.
Eyes that were still physically there, and yet there was no life.
No spark.
I was staring at a dead body, a flesh puppet who had lost his strings.
When he grabbed my hands, pulling me into a waltz, I caught a smear of scarlet trickling down the back of his neck. When I followed it upwards, his head was covered, slick, dripping with red.
Like me, he matched her too.
And he was beautiful, she told me, her push, her thunderous applause, guiding me into a waltz.
His feet moved, perfecting every step, and my foggy mind couldn't understand why. He matched my every move, the two of us floating across the floor.
My feet knew the steps before my mind.
How could he dance? I thought, dizzily.
How could he dance, when smeared scarlet followed his twisting, and turning and pirouetting feet?
Because underneath that swimming clinical light, the back of the boy’s head had been carved away, a perfectly sculpted cavern where his brain should have been. I could see the severed stem, where it had cleanly plucked out.
His fingers cradled in mine were wet. Swimming in blood.
His own blood.
Spinning round and around, I imagined myself as a princess.
I saw an 18th century ballroom lit up around us. Glittering smiles and glasses of champagne, long, flowing ball gowns.
I blinked, and my head was tipped back, gliding in blood once again.
When he pulled me to his chest, I stumbled, and a name came to light.
Luke.
I had found him.
Our finishing spin left me hard to breathe.
My body was broken, ripped into, and yet somehow not.
By the time we were finished, the two of us bowing, my mind was full of fog.
Cotton candy.
“Congratulations!” Red’s smile was inhuman, stretching right off of her face.
“You're in the S class!”
I was led through a door that wasn't the one I entered from. Inside the room were a dozen or so students, kneeling on the floor. They were missing parts of themselves, like unfinished puzzle pieces.
I dropped onto my knees next to a girl without a head. I could only see her torso, but I knew she was smiling.
Looming over us, was the goddess Athena drenched in blood that was still wet.
Dripping, pooling from every crevice of her dress.
Looking closer, this statue was moving.
Something sickly crept into my mouth.
Her right eye was human, a twitching eyeball sandwiched inside the stone.
It didn't match her. It was wrong, horrifying, like a painting, a real human eye struggling to focus on us.
And then, my own gaze found the statues head, where a real human brain had been forced inside perfect white, pink, greyish mush dripping down the sculpted, slender neck.
I could see where it had been pushed, pulverised through the stone.
The statue’s singular eye found me.
Its dancing pupil jumped up and down.
Before it blinked.
Next to me, Luke was on his knees, as if in prayer.
I can't remember leaving the room.
I just remember running.
Back down the stairs, stumbling, staggering over myself.
I was screaming by the time I reached the doors.
They opened, as usual.
But I couldn't get through. I tried, but I was slamming into something I couldn't see.
Pepto was still waiting outside. The sky was dark.
When he saw me, he stumbled over, slamming his hands into the glass.
I couldn't even understand myself. I was just fucking screaming.
Pepto held up his phone.
“DID YOU FIND HIM?”
I shook my head.
“No.” I lied.
I can't tell him the truth. I don't even know what it is.
“I can't get out!”
Pepto nodded slowly, typing something and showing me his phone.
I'm getting you both out of there. I think I know how I can get inside.
It's been 3 days, and Pepto is yet to return.
I’ve tried multiple times to cry out for the H word. But it won't let me type it.
Please H me. I need to get out of this place.
Fuck. Get me OUT OF HERE.
Classes start tomorrow.
2024.05.19 02:26 BoxPrevious1508 A co-worker asked me to be her sperm donor
The most bizarre thing happened to me yesterday.
This is a throwaway account because this story has to do with a co-worker. Several co-workers and I have Reddit account and often post on subs related to the industry we’re in and I don’t want them to see this.
Yesterday, a female co-worker asked me to be her sperm donor.
I’m friendly with this woman. I like her. I think she’s genuinely a sweet person who takes her job seriously and is good at what she does. I don’t think she always gets a fair shake at work or is taken seriously some of the time due to her appearance and some might say flirty behavior. I don’t know if she’s trying to be flirty or if she’s just one of those super friendly people. There’s nothing crazy about her appearance or anything, she’s just objectively attractive. I’ve heard guys make inappropriate sexual jokes about her. There have been rumors about her hooking up with multiple male colleagues. There was even a rumor that she and I were having an affair at one point, which had no merit. I’ve never slept with this woman or done anything sexual with her. I find her attractive and admittedly sometimes I do have to force myself to maintain eye contact with her when she’s talking to me. She wears revealing blouses sometimes. I’m a boob guy, so I’m just being honest here. But I’d never pursue anything like that with her. I’ve only ever acted respectful towards her.
I’ve been divorced for about 2 years. I’ve dated some since then, but nothing serious that I want to commit to. I have kids with my ex-wife.
So she told me she needed to meet to discuss something important with me. I’m a director and she’s a manager, separate departments - I’m not her supervisor. My department handles some things for her department and I know she’s been having trouble with somebody on my team. I assumed that’s what she wanted to talk about.
Instead, she took me out to lunch to give me this big speech about why she wants to be a single mom and why she wants me to be her sperm donor! I was literally speechless. It was obvious she’s been thinking about it for a while. She’s even consulted a lawyer about the logistics of ensuring that a sperm donor of her choice could be guaranteed to not be held legally responsible for the child. She tried to assure me that she wouldn’t expect anything from me, she doesn’t want any involvement from me, and we wouldn’t have to tell anyone. We could even have actual sex if I wanted to do it that way, or we could be more formal about it, depending on my comfort level.
I mean, it’s bizarre and was very uncomfortable, but at the same time strangely flattering. I didn’t say no right away. I haven’t actually told her no at all. I mean, inside I was yelling no way, but why didn’t I actually tell her that? Maybe I just wanted me ego stroked a bit more, idk.
Of course I asked her why me. She said I’m nice, she likes me, I don’t treat her like a lot of the guys we work with. She thinks I’m “normal,” healthy as far as she’s aware, and she likes my physical features. But she’d want a full health history on me and my family before moving forward.
I asked her why she didn’t go to a sperm bank. She said that’s what she initially planned to do when she started seriously thinking about becoming a single mother, but once she started delving into it she discovered that there are many ethical issues with sperm banks. Shes been talking online with several women who have used known donors and has decided that’s the way she needs to go. She thinks I’m a good fit because while we’re friendly, we’re not friends, we don’t hang out with each other, we don’t know each other outside of work. She feels she knows me well enough to determine she likes me and certain traits/characteristics, without having to worry about it being weird because I’m not a close friend or somebody that would be around her family or friend group at all. Plus, I’m divorced now so there no spouse or partner to have to deal with.
She said she could always leave the company before anyone would possibly realize her kid looks like me if I’m worried about that. She feels she’d probably have to leave to avoid things being weird between us. She’s been studying for some sort of certification in hopes of finding a more specialized job anyway, she claims. We live in different cities, so our lives are totally separate outside of work.
I felt like it was a prank or hidden camera thing. Truly one of the most bizarre and unexpected things to happen to me. But when I googled “coworker asked me to be a sperm donor” I was surprised to find out this is far from an isolated incident. What’s even more bizarre is after reading some of these other stories, I’m not 100% about saying no. I mean, I’m about 90% sure I’ll say no. I felt bad telling her no on the spot and intended to let her believe that I was considering it over the weekend since I got the impression she had spent so much time thinking about it and rehearsing what she was going to say. But now I actually am finding a tiny part of myself considering it and I almost can’t believe myself.
Anyone ever been randomly asked to be a sperm donor before??? If you actually said yes, why? Did it work out in the end or become a legal mess? And no, I’m not seeming actual legal advice from Reddit.
submitted by BoxPrevious1508 to TrueOffMyChest [link] [comments]
This is a throwaway account because this story has to do with a co-worker. Several co-workers and I have Reddit account and often post on subs related to the industry we’re in and I don’t want them to see this.
Yesterday, a female co-worker asked me to be her sperm donor.
I’m friendly with this woman. I like her. I think she’s genuinely a sweet person who takes her job seriously and is good at what she does. I don’t think she always gets a fair shake at work or is taken seriously some of the time due to her appearance and some might say flirty behavior. I don’t know if she’s trying to be flirty or if she’s just one of those super friendly people. There’s nothing crazy about her appearance or anything, she’s just objectively attractive. I’ve heard guys make inappropriate sexual jokes about her. There have been rumors about her hooking up with multiple male colleagues. There was even a rumor that she and I were having an affair at one point, which had no merit. I’ve never slept with this woman or done anything sexual with her. I find her attractive and admittedly sometimes I do have to force myself to maintain eye contact with her when she’s talking to me. She wears revealing blouses sometimes. I’m a boob guy, so I’m just being honest here. But I’d never pursue anything like that with her. I’ve only ever acted respectful towards her.
I’ve been divorced for about 2 years. I’ve dated some since then, but nothing serious that I want to commit to. I have kids with my ex-wife.
So she told me she needed to meet to discuss something important with me. I’m a director and she’s a manager, separate departments - I’m not her supervisor. My department handles some things for her department and I know she’s been having trouble with somebody on my team. I assumed that’s what she wanted to talk about.
Instead, she took me out to lunch to give me this big speech about why she wants to be a single mom and why she wants me to be her sperm donor! I was literally speechless. It was obvious she’s been thinking about it for a while. She’s even consulted a lawyer about the logistics of ensuring that a sperm donor of her choice could be guaranteed to not be held legally responsible for the child. She tried to assure me that she wouldn’t expect anything from me, she doesn’t want any involvement from me, and we wouldn’t have to tell anyone. We could even have actual sex if I wanted to do it that way, or we could be more formal about it, depending on my comfort level.
I mean, it’s bizarre and was very uncomfortable, but at the same time strangely flattering. I didn’t say no right away. I haven’t actually told her no at all. I mean, inside I was yelling no way, but why didn’t I actually tell her that? Maybe I just wanted me ego stroked a bit more, idk.
Of course I asked her why me. She said I’m nice, she likes me, I don’t treat her like a lot of the guys we work with. She thinks I’m “normal,” healthy as far as she’s aware, and she likes my physical features. But she’d want a full health history on me and my family before moving forward.
I asked her why she didn’t go to a sperm bank. She said that’s what she initially planned to do when she started seriously thinking about becoming a single mother, but once she started delving into it she discovered that there are many ethical issues with sperm banks. Shes been talking online with several women who have used known donors and has decided that’s the way she needs to go. She thinks I’m a good fit because while we’re friendly, we’re not friends, we don’t hang out with each other, we don’t know each other outside of work. She feels she knows me well enough to determine she likes me and certain traits/characteristics, without having to worry about it being weird because I’m not a close friend or somebody that would be around her family or friend group at all. Plus, I’m divorced now so there no spouse or partner to have to deal with.
She said she could always leave the company before anyone would possibly realize her kid looks like me if I’m worried about that. She feels she’d probably have to leave to avoid things being weird between us. She’s been studying for some sort of certification in hopes of finding a more specialized job anyway, she claims. We live in different cities, so our lives are totally separate outside of work.
I felt like it was a prank or hidden camera thing. Truly one of the most bizarre and unexpected things to happen to me. But when I googled “coworker asked me to be a sperm donor” I was surprised to find out this is far from an isolated incident. What’s even more bizarre is after reading some of these other stories, I’m not 100% about saying no. I mean, I’m about 90% sure I’ll say no. I felt bad telling her no on the spot and intended to let her believe that I was considering it over the weekend since I got the impression she had spent so much time thinking about it and rehearsing what she was going to say. But now I actually am finding a tiny part of myself considering it and I almost can’t believe myself.
Anyone ever been randomly asked to be a sperm donor before??? If you actually said yes, why? Did it work out in the end or become a legal mess? And no, I’m not seeming actual legal advice from Reddit.
2024.05.19 02:22 sisslemcflea How to Tell Husband I Don’t Want to Hang Out with his Friends
My husband is a big people pleaser and has a hard time setting boundaries. Conversely, he also has a hard time respecting boundaries. Ive been to therapy enough times that I can recognize how manipulative many of his friendships are. He seems to attract these people like a magnet. He has one friend that is an alcoholic, and the friend is chill when he’s sober. When the friend is drunk, he calls my husband cursing him out. Even at his best he’s a bit of an emotional parasite, demanding large amounts of time(4+ hours phone calls every night, dinner once a week, etc) and if my husband doesn’t give in this “friend” gets upset and insists my husbands never had his back. Being a people pleaser with weak boundaries, my husband will go to great lengths to avoid this. He often goes to out eat or hang out with this guy(as well as other people who are just as bad) even though he doesn’t want to. I tell him he shouldn’t feel pressured, he needs to set boundaries with these guys that when he says no he’s not going. But he just can’t seem to bring himself to do it. I figure I can’t force him, but at least I don’t have to associate with them, besides being respectful for my husband’s sake should I ever run into one in public. But sometimes my husband tells them I’ll come too. When he asks me, I’ve always said no. I’ve been very clear on my no. He then proceeds to tell me that he’s already told them I’m coming and he’ll look “like a liar” if I don’t show up. It’s irritating and draining to hand out with these people and puts us both in a bad mood. Last time he did this, I told him I wouldn’t be going next time. If I say no, I mean it. He said he understood. Well, today his friend wanted to go to Olive Garden. I said very clearly to my husband multiple times I wasn’t going. I didn’t want to go, I was tired, I don’t like this guy, etc. he has the guy on mute at this point. After I finish explaining that I won’t be going, my husband turns off mute and tells the guy that we’ll both be there to pick him up in half an hour. I couldn’t believe it!! But I’m not a pushover, so I told him I still wasn’t going. It led to a big fight, him saying I was embarrassing him and that it was my fault he was stuck going. He even tried demanding I go, telling me to “get dressed right now and fix your attitude” but I held my ground. Finally he just left, but not after mentioning how his night was ruined and it’s all my fault. I’m so frustrated, I thought I was doing the right thing by being calm and clear, but his frustration is making me doubt. Was there a better way to go about this? Should I have caved and gone with him? Could I have communicated better?
submitted by sisslemcflea to Marriage [link] [comments]
2024.05.19 02:17 MoistAd7288 Feeling unsupported at work
Hi everyone.
I'm 31F and almost 31w pregnant with first baby. I work in a reception of a busy (non NHS) clinic. My only "peer" is my supervisor who according to the job description does pretty much the same as me, runs a clinic (I'm trying not to give too much away about my job but it involves working with lots of trainees who are not always punctual at collecting pts and the pts are a demanding lot).
Anyway, she has brown nosed her way into being involved in way more "exciting" stuff with higher up medics and she barely does any of her actual job now. She sits there typing emails all day whilst I run around crazily trying to organise everything. This has always pissed me off bc I get paid not a lot and I feel I do her job now too! We've done risk assessments etc but it somehow ends the same way in real life, I'm left to do it all and she gets the credit. Also I must add, I'm stuck in that awful situation that she's also my friend when she's not being so bad.
Now I'm getting further along in my pregnancy I'm feeling weaker and can't move as quickly as I used to. I feel a lot of pelvic pain and I'm so easily breathless! But guess what - in the upcoming week I'm being left to run the most hectic clinic on my own. I'm genuinely losing sleep, lol hence why I'm awake writing this at 01:00. I'm not due to start mat leave til 37 weeks bc everyone told me it was a waste. I feel so anxious and upset, it's affecting my personal life as well. My husband is so angry about the situation and urges me to go on sick leave for stress but I'm such a nervous wreck about leaving them high and dry so early, bc I am returning to this job after my mat leave. Lots of catty people there who only call out your mistakes.
If you've read this I genuinely applaud you. I feel so shit rn I can't explain.
Tldr overcompensating pregnant woman doing work of 2 people feels guilty taking sick leave to cope with anxiety of being said overcompensating pregnant worker.
submitted by MoistAd7288 to PregnancyUK [link] [comments]
I'm 31F and almost 31w pregnant with first baby. I work in a reception of a busy (non NHS) clinic. My only "peer" is my supervisor who according to the job description does pretty much the same as me, runs a clinic (I'm trying not to give too much away about my job but it involves working with lots of trainees who are not always punctual at collecting pts and the pts are a demanding lot).
Anyway, she has brown nosed her way into being involved in way more "exciting" stuff with higher up medics and she barely does any of her actual job now. She sits there typing emails all day whilst I run around crazily trying to organise everything. This has always pissed me off bc I get paid not a lot and I feel I do her job now too! We've done risk assessments etc but it somehow ends the same way in real life, I'm left to do it all and she gets the credit. Also I must add, I'm stuck in that awful situation that she's also my friend when she's not being so bad.
Now I'm getting further along in my pregnancy I'm feeling weaker and can't move as quickly as I used to. I feel a lot of pelvic pain and I'm so easily breathless! But guess what - in the upcoming week I'm being left to run the most hectic clinic on my own. I'm genuinely losing sleep, lol hence why I'm awake writing this at 01:00. I'm not due to start mat leave til 37 weeks bc everyone told me it was a waste. I feel so anxious and upset, it's affecting my personal life as well. My husband is so angry about the situation and urges me to go on sick leave for stress but I'm such a nervous wreck about leaving them high and dry so early, bc I am returning to this job after my mat leave. Lots of catty people there who only call out your mistakes.
If you've read this I genuinely applaud you. I feel so shit rn I can't explain.
Tldr overcompensating pregnant woman doing work of 2 people feels guilty taking sick leave to cope with anxiety of being said overcompensating pregnant worker.
2024.05.19 02:15 thesheepshepard Roland Arryn, Knight of the Gate
PC
Reddit Account: u/TheSacredGrovesDiscord Tag: justinkayce
Name and House: Roland, of House Arryn
Age: 28
Cultural Group: Andal
Appearance: Tall, lean, well-muscled, handsome, fair - Roland is the portrait of a Knight of legend, of the Winged Knight come again. Harsh sky-blue eyes, severe cheekbones, and the familial aquitaine nose give him a cold and distant look - but one frequently broken by his warm and gentle smile. He keeps his pale-blonde hair long and his jaw clean shaven, accentuating the lines of his face. Roland is always neat and clean, his armour burnished and his threads well-tailored and fashionable.
Trait: Blademaster
Skill(s): Swords (e), Andal Knight (e), Essosi Blademaster
Talent(s): Dancing, Hawking, Singing
Negative Trait(s): -
Starting Title(s): Knight of the Gate
Starting Location: King's Landing
Alternate Characters: n/a
Bio-Timeline
- 3 BC: Roland Arryn is born to King Joffrey I Arryn and his wife, Queen Sharra. The third son, Roland's birth firmly secures the succession - fortunately timed considering his father's death later that year.
- 1 BC: The Conquest passes the two year old Roland by, the only impact on him being the squall he raised when Vhagar landed atop the Eyrie.
- 1-4 AC: The post-conquest world is the only one Roland knows, and he grows up in a household dedicated much to it. House Arryn in this period is an odd family, to say the least. Sharra Arryn's attentions are much divided and she has less time than a mother normally would for her third son; Roland is mostly raised by the medley of the Arryn Household and Court and is well-moulded by that as the expectations of maester, septon, courtiers, knights, servants, begin to be shape him into what an Arryn 'should' be in the eyes of their people.
- 5 AC: Roland struggles to find his place as a third son with little direct supervision. It is decided early that he does not have the smarts to become Septon nor Maester... but even as a youth Roland has a keen interest in the training yard, often an annoying shadow to his eldest brother and his squire friends. However, even at eight years old it is clear there is a natural talent to the boy - and when he defeats a squire four years older than him in a training bout in the presence of Lord Corbray, the famed Raven Knight, takes the precocious boy on as a page.
- 6 AC: Roland is by Lord Corbray's side when he tracks down the Root Father. Now a newly minted squire, Roland ignores his knight's orders to remain with the horses and sneaks after them. He kills his first man there, taking a clansman from behind as he in turn tried to attack the Raven Knight from the back. It is not an honourable kill or a clean death, and Roland is badly injured in the scuffle - but he survives. Lord Corbray is furious, and fiercely instils in Roland the importance of fighting with chivalry and honour. He almost abandons Roland, but his tearful begging convinces the Raven Knight that Roland is genuine in his regret.
- 7 AC: Visenya Targaryen's visits to the Eyrie become more frequent, and Roland's wariness of the stern, dragon-riding pagan is overcome by his fascination with said dragon, her skill with the blade... and his mother's growing closeness to the Queen. Visenya becomes something of a second mother to Roland, and her influences war with Lord Corbray's own. From Lord Corbray, Roland learns chivalry, honour, piety, and how a true Andal Knight should act. From Queen Visenya, Roland learns the importance of victory, and an understanding that wars must be won - he learns practicalities and realities. It is a schism within Roland that troubles him, but from both he learns the blade and even at ten it is more and more obvious there is something special about Roland. He quarrels sometimes with his brothers. Jonos, as even at ten, Roland could find little but disdain for his scheming, sneering, brother, and Ronnel as again even at ten, Roland already began to see himself as the better sword (and grows envious that Ronnel gets to adventure and party while Lord Corbray keeps Roland on a much tighter leash).
- 10 AC: Roland learns of his mother's death while at Heart's Home. He returns home swiftly, and his grief is overwhelming. There are few Roland can turn to; Ronnel is concerned with his marriage and rulership, Arwen retreats into the forests, and Jonos is Jonos. Roland relies further on Visenya, who has experienced such grief herself recently and guides Roland through it. Her place as a mother to Roland is confirmed in utterance. To distract himself, Roland throws himself fully into his training and an ensuing victory at a squire's melee at the age of ten and three sparks his reputation as a squire to watch across the Vale.
- 12 AC: Roland, at ten and five, wins the squire's tourney at Maiden’s Bay. He is stopped from sneaking into the higher tourneys by Lord Corbray, much to Roland's chargrin and his demand to be knighted is refused. His calamitously sized ego is rapidly deflated by the Eyrie's Septon and Queen Visenya, who pick him apart and teach him between them the values of humility, and the value of letting ones abilities speak for themselves. Roland does his best to control his pride in the future; ego is rarely ever an issue from him.
- 13 AC: While the honour of the day goes to the Cavaliers, Roland Arryn wins his spurs when the Painted Dogs are crushed under the Moon Gate, killing near as much as the Cavalier Superior herself. That his knighthood was overshadowed by an order of women warriors initially irritated Roland, but recalling his lessons from the last year, he happily shared the honour alongside them and was one of the voices that petitioned his brother to replace the Keeper with the Cavaliers. Knighted, Roland joins the Brotherhood of the Winged Knights and although young, is a key figure in helping rejuvenate the Brotherhood.
- 14 AC: Roland is betrothed to Alayne Waynwood; their romance is one from the storybooks, an instant and deep connection from the moment of meeting.
- 15 AC: Roland and Alayne wed as soon as they turn ten and eight. Part in celebration and part as dignitaries, the pair go to King's Landing together as guests of Lord Orys' great hunt for his son's coming of age. At the Kingswood Catastrophe, Roland saves Orys' life, but Alayne is slain defending other noblewomen. Roland hunts down, duels, and kills the King of the Wood afterwards. He is offered the Whitecloak for his service; on advice from Visenya, he declines, claiming his family needs him and he can defend Laenor and Visenya just as well in the Vale.
- 16 AC: Roland withdraws into mourning for a year, taking up a brutal campaign of bandit hunting in the Vale to cope with his grief.
- 17-18 AC: Roland returns to his brother's side, continuing to help rebuild the Brotherhood of the Winged Knights and slowly coming to terms with Alayne's death. He begins to more keenly ride the tourney track between his duties, earning a reputation as a fine lance alongside his growing reputation as one of the greatest knights in the realm.
- 19 AC: With Roland settling into his knightly role, Ronnel names him Knight of the Gate, with the downside of forcing Roland to have to keep a firm hand on Jonos from time to time when their brother is exiled to the Gate for yet another slight. The relationship between Jonos and Roland sours; where Ronnel threatens Jonos with exile or the Wall, Roland threatens him with death.
- 20 AC: Requested personally by Visenya, Roland tries to take on Prince Laenor as a squire. They are utterly ill-suited to the role, and after many frustrating failed training sessions in the yard, Roland gives up, labelling the Prince untrainable. The relationship between the two almost-siblings sours, but Roland works to repair the rift he created between them with much kinder words.
- 21 AC: Roland develops a relationship with a fellow Knight of the Vale, Colmar Corbray - the son and heir of the aging Raven Knight. Colmar has a fire in him that Roland can't help but seek, and he excuses Colmar's many flaws far too readily. It is a secretive bond, and toxic, but Roland does not believe he deserves better after letting Alayne die.
- 22 AC: The Winged Knights are whipped into fervour as yet another piece of the ancient armour is found. Roland himself dreams of perhaps finding more. Inspired my tales of the armour, the Brotherhood grows even further and in order to keep a firm hand on them, Ronnel makes Roland their Commander.
- 23 AC: Roland and Colmar's relationship deteriorates, ending in a duel that sees Colmar humiliated but, thankfully, alive. The two men hate each other from then on.
- 25 AC: Roland rides by his brother's side to King's Landing.
Family Tree
AC
Name and House: Marla of GulltownAge: 34
Cultural Group: Andal
Appearance: Broad and strong with well-calloused hands, Marla is as obvious a blacksmith as Roland is a knight. She keeps her brown hair tied severely back, framing her dour face with its squinting brown and wide mouth that wears an almost perpetual frown.
Trait: Artisan (Weapons)
Skill(s): Craftsman (e weapons; e armor)
Talent(s): Whittling, singing, maintenance of arms and armour
Negative Trait(s): -
Starting Title(s): King's Landing
Starting Location: Master of the Armoury of the Bloody Gate
Timeline
- 9 BC: Marla of Gulltown is born to a master-armourer in Gulltown
- 1 BC: Marla begs her father to help as his assistant as he tries to deal with the massive increase in orders thanks to the Conquest; he reluctantly agrees. Her older brother dies when Vhagar burns the Vale's fleet.
- 2 AC: Marla secretly goes out to work her father's forge at night, practicing at smithing - and finding herself something of a prodigy.
- 6 AC: Her father dies of a weak heart. Marla and her mother discover his great gambling debts, and no money saved for them. They keep her father's death a secret as Marla works the forge to complete his current orders - what comes after that, no one knows.
- 7 AC: Somehow, the charade is kept up. Marla's father is portrayed as a recluse who has devoted himself to his work and the Smith and will see no one in person. This mystery increases the shop's popularity, and many marvel at how greatly his work has improved since taking up this holy vow of solitude.
- 10 AC: A young merchant attempts to woo Marla and is rebuffed. Spying on her, he discovers her secret, and spreads it through Gulltown. The reputation of the shop collapses, and Marla and her mother flee ahead of those furious at the deception, the Faith angry that they had been used, and the law's punishment for fraud. They flee to Pentos.
- 11 AC: Marla finds work with a Qohorik blacksmith, an old master, now drunk and washed up. He teaches her all he knows. Helping each other back to their feet, the pair set up a proper shop, once more, together.
- 15 AC: The old blacksmith dies; Pentos proves to be unfriendly in its business to a woman by herself without the old master by her side. Despairing, Marla hears about the Cavaliers of the Vale, and reckons that if her home will now accept female knights, surely they'll accept a female blacksmith.
- 16 AC: Marla returns to the Vale with her mother. She avoids Gulltown and instead heads to the Gates of the Moon, seeking to offer her services to the Cavaliers. She is accosted by vengeful Painted Dogs on the way, and saved by the miraculous intervention of Roland. He offers to accompany her to the Gates of the Moon, where Marla is gladly accepted.
- 17 AC: Having forged arms and armour for Roland as well, which Roland raves over, Roland has his brother take her on as the Arryn's personal smith and armourer.
- 19 AC: When Roland is given the Bloody Gate, he begs Marla to come with him, who agrees in part. The smith spends her time between the two Gates and the Eyrie, overseeing the arms and armours of all the Arryn forces. Mostly remaining at the Bloody Gate, Marla becomes an integral part of the Winged Knights.
- 20-24 AC: Marla is regularly persuaded to accompany Roland to yet another tourney to help maintain his arms and armour. She grumbles, but secretly enjoys the competitions. Tales of the Winged Knights armour fascinate the Blacksmith, and with her small amount of Qohorik experience she helps verify the pieces as true Valyrian Steel. Her and Roland worsen each others obsession with tracking down the rest.
- 25 AC: Marla rides to King's Landing with her Lord and Knight, ready to work her magic if Roland breaks his armour yet again.
Supporting Characters
- Septon Gernot, 41 (Medic) - Septon of the Gate
- Maester Guy, 42 (Scholar) - Maester of the Gate
- Ser Martin Donnerly, 36 (General) - Castellan of the Gate
2024.05.19 02:14 jpitha Between the Black and Grey 42
First / Previous / Next
Before anyone could say anything else, there was a blinding flash of white light. The Dreadnought appeared directly in front of them, impeding their progress. Stormy fired the thrusters and tried to duck underneath.
"Get back into your seats! I'm going to link away again." Northern and Zhe dove towards their seats and bucked back up, but before Stormy could link, there was a clatter and a shudder throughout the ship. New alarms sounded throughout the ship, a kind of wailing trilling noise. It was incredibly loud.
"What's that Stormy?" Zhe clapped her hands over her large ears. "Can you turn it down any?"
"It's... It's a grapple. We've been grappled!" Stormy's rage permeated her voice. "Those were banned centuries ago! I can't believe they used a grapple on us."
"Can we do anything?" Fen asked. She looked down at her screen. There were new spots of orange on the readout where the grapple was damaging the hull.
"Our options at this point are to allow us to be taken aboard, or blow the reactor." Northern shook her head. "They've got us."
"Stormy, might as well disconnect and come up here. I don't want them doing anything to you." Fen closed her pad with a snap. She looked at Zhe and Northern. "Sorry."
Zhe shook her head. "Nothing to be sorry about, Fen. We're in this together."
Northern nodded. "Despite myself, I do find that I like you two. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. It's not your fault Fen."
Fen sighed. "Yeah, but if I wasn't a clone of the first Empress..."
"There's no way these people know that Fen. They're just after their current Empress and probably think we know something about it. I'd say just answer their questions mostly honestly." Northern ticked off points on her long fingers. "We saw her on Picaresque, we went out drinking, we partied with her and her honor guard, and in the morning we left. None off that is a lie."
Stormy walked into the Command Deck and looked around. Finding a seat, she sat down and buckled in. "The four of us is enough to operate a frigate of this size without raising too much suspicion. They shouldn't ask about whether we have an AI pilot."
Zhe's ears flicked in surprise. "Really? Only four people?"
She nodded. "It's just about the bare minimum, but it's possible. It could be explained away that we're a new merc group and haven't taken on more crew yet. These kind of ships are meant to be run lean and mean anyway."
Fen wasn't so sure, but she couldn't do anything else.
They waited.
About 30 minutes later, there was a pounding on the airlock. Fen unbuckled and went to the lock. Peering through the window she saw three armored spacesuits. She toggled the intercom. "Yes?"
"Human Imperial Navy. Open up please. We have some questions for you."
Please? That was interesting. "Why did you grapple me? You could have used your radio."
"The Admiral wishes to speak to you in person."
They did not elaborate further.
The voice of the suited person sighed. "Look. If you just open the doors, it'll go better for you. We won't even restrain you. You just open up, we bring you to the Admiral and then we let you go once she's happy with the answers."
"And if I don't open the lock?"
"Then we force it open, capture you, restrain you-" They hold up some metal zip cuffs. "-and still bring you to the Admiral. Only now, your ship is damaged and you can't leave once she's finished speaking. Your choice."
Fen cut the intercom. "Fuck." she said to nobody, and pressed the purge button. Both airlock door snapped open and there was a puff of air as the pressures equalized. Fen's ears were pained for a moment, but she swallowed and her ears popped.
The guard lifted their helmet. It was two men and a woman who looked so similar they could have been related. The woman smiled. "Thank you, really. My name is Lieutenant Shelly Cooper. What's yours?"
"I'm Captain Fenchurch Whitehorse, but please call me Fen."
"Very well, Fen. Who else is aboard?"
"The rest of my crew. They're on the Command Deck. There are four of us."
That caused Lieutenant Cooper to raise an eyebrow, "Four? That's it?"
Fen smiled awkwardly. "I wasn't able to hire anymore crew than that. Believe me when I say I've been trying." It wasn't a lie, not really. Fen found that there weren't many people who were willing to sign on to an unproven merc company, even if they were a couple years old.
The Lieutenant turned to one of the men behind her. "What did the bioscan say?"
He looked down at a pad strapped to the arm of his suit and tapped at it with a gloved hand. "She's not lying. Ship is empty except for the command deck."
"Curious." Cooper stared hard at Fen. "Have we met? Are you from Sol? You seem familiar to me."
"I don't see how. I grew up in a Gren station, far outside of Colonial space." Again, it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth. Of course people in the military would know what the first Empress looked like.
"Hmm. Okay. If your crew agrees to keep the reactor powered down and be powered by an umbilical, they can stay confined to the ship and you accompany us. Deal?"
"Yes, I agree to those terms. Let me go tell my crew."
Lieutenant Cooper nods. "You have three minutes."
Fen hurries back to the command deck. "The Admiral wants to talk to me. They said you can stay here so long as you agree to be powered only by their umbilical."
Zhe stood up and crossed her arms, her tail swishing irritatedly. "It won't matter, because we're coming too."
Northern looked to Zhe and sighed, but only a little. "We can't leave you out to dry, Fen. We'll come along too. How bad can it be? Plus, if we come with you we can't suffer "an unfortunate accident" in the hangar."
Fen exhaled. She hadn't realized she was holding her breath in. "Thanks Northern, Zhe." She turned to Stormy. "You're welcome to come along, but I also know this isn't your thing. We had just hired you after all."
Stormy looked at Northern who shrugged with her eyes. "Up to you."
She runs her hands over her face. "Fuck, me. I swear Northern, you know how to pick them." Stormy stands up and smiles. "I'll come along, what the hell. Sitting on the ship was going to be boring by myself anyway."
The four of them went to the airlock, and Fen went up to Lieutenant Cooper "I spoke to my crew, and they want to accompany me."
Lieutenant Cooper throws up her hands. "Fine, I guess we'll just give you the VIP tour on the way." She gestures out towards the hangar. "Here is the hangar, where we store our smaller ships and boats, as well as the frigate of a merc captain we captured that the admiral wants to speak to and offered to let her crew stay onboard but they want to follow their captain to the ends of the galaxy."
Fen crossed her arms, but said nothing.
"Come on then. We'll find you some more chairs or something." Lieutenant Cooper turned on her heel and walked out of the hangar, without waiting for them to follow. The two guards with her looked at each other and one of them gestured for them to follow.
Not too far from the hangar, Lieutenant Cooper came upon a small conference room. She opened the door and led them inside. As they sat, a steward came by with a small cart of drinks. Fen was offered and accepted a coffee, and they went around offering beverages. Lieutenant Cooper also took a coffee, but everyone else abstained.
Cooper took a sip and looked down at the comm on her wrist. "The Admiral will be here shortly. Please be respectful. She's... lived a long life and doesn't suffer fools. If you want to make it back to your ship, answer her questions quickly and honestly."
Fen wasn't halfway through her coffee with the door chimed. Lieutenant Cooper stood. "This is where I leave you. The guards will wait outside the door and - should you be able - will escort you back to your ship." Her face was odd. She looked worried, and also like she felt bad for them. Just what kind of person was this Admiral?"
The door whooshed open and the Admiral strode in. She was about the same height as Cooper, maybe a few centimeters taller than Fen. Her hair was blond streaked with grey and she wore it clipped very short on the back and sides and a little longer in the front. She wore her hat at an angle that probably was against regulations. Her uniform was immaculate and her chest bulged with medals. She had a hard, but not unattractive face, lined with time. As she entered, she looked down at everyone sitting, and as she passed over them she stopped at Fen, and her breath caught.
"You are dismissed, Lieutenant."
Cooper saluted sharply. "Yes, Admiral."
"Dismiss the guards as well. I will not need them."
"Admiral? With all due respect-"
The Admiral turned to face Cooper and stared at her. Without saying anything at all, Fen could feel her shouting at the Lieutenant. Her gaze was withering. Cooper swallowed and saluted again. "Yes, Admiral."
The door closed behind her and the Admiral's demeanor immediately changed. She shrank down a little, looked older, less hard. She strode around the room and glanced down at the carafe of coffee. She poured herself a cup and sat at the head of the table. While everyone watched, rapt. She took a sip and placed it down on the table without a clink. She looked at Fen.
"You look like her, you know? I can see that you're different. A product of your upbringing. It's your eyes, and the way you carry yourself. I can see so much of her though. It's a little spooky."
Fen blinked. Whatever she expected, it wasn't this. "You know I'm a clone of the first Empress?"
The admiral laughed. Her voice was surprisingly musical. "Fen, I knew Melody. I was friends with her. I... I was on a different ship when she was killed. I became Empress after her."
Stormy gasped. "No. No way. She retired to Venus, and let her daughter reign. She would be over five hundred years old. You're not her."
The admiral smirked. "If you know all that, then you know that the Nanites can extend life. I can't do the Voice anymore, and it's been more than two centuries since I carried a crown and wings, but I am still me.
Northern turned and stared at Stormy. "Who is it, Stormy?"
The admiral spread her hands wide. "I am Empress Helen Raaden, First of Her Name, Ruler of Sol - Retired."
submitted by jpitha to HFY [link] [comments]
Before anyone could say anything else, there was a blinding flash of white light. The Dreadnought appeared directly in front of them, impeding their progress. Stormy fired the thrusters and tried to duck underneath.
"Get back into your seats! I'm going to link away again." Northern and Zhe dove towards their seats and bucked back up, but before Stormy could link, there was a clatter and a shudder throughout the ship. New alarms sounded throughout the ship, a kind of wailing trilling noise. It was incredibly loud.
"What's that Stormy?" Zhe clapped her hands over her large ears. "Can you turn it down any?"
"It's... It's a grapple. We've been grappled!" Stormy's rage permeated her voice. "Those were banned centuries ago! I can't believe they used a grapple on us."
"Can we do anything?" Fen asked. She looked down at her screen. There were new spots of orange on the readout where the grapple was damaging the hull.
"Our options at this point are to allow us to be taken aboard, or blow the reactor." Northern shook her head. "They've got us."
"Stormy, might as well disconnect and come up here. I don't want them doing anything to you." Fen closed her pad with a snap. She looked at Zhe and Northern. "Sorry."
Zhe shook her head. "Nothing to be sorry about, Fen. We're in this together."
Northern nodded. "Despite myself, I do find that I like you two. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. It's not your fault Fen."
Fen sighed. "Yeah, but if I wasn't a clone of the first Empress..."
"There's no way these people know that Fen. They're just after their current Empress and probably think we know something about it. I'd say just answer their questions mostly honestly." Northern ticked off points on her long fingers. "We saw her on Picaresque, we went out drinking, we partied with her and her honor guard, and in the morning we left. None off that is a lie."
Stormy walked into the Command Deck and looked around. Finding a seat, she sat down and buckled in. "The four of us is enough to operate a frigate of this size without raising too much suspicion. They shouldn't ask about whether we have an AI pilot."
Zhe's ears flicked in surprise. "Really? Only four people?"
She nodded. "It's just about the bare minimum, but it's possible. It could be explained away that we're a new merc group and haven't taken on more crew yet. These kind of ships are meant to be run lean and mean anyway."
Fen wasn't so sure, but she couldn't do anything else.
They waited.
About 30 minutes later, there was a pounding on the airlock. Fen unbuckled and went to the lock. Peering through the window she saw three armored spacesuits. She toggled the intercom. "Yes?"
"Human Imperial Navy. Open up please. We have some questions for you."
Please? That was interesting. "Why did you grapple me? You could have used your radio."
"The Admiral wishes to speak to you in person."
They did not elaborate further.
The voice of the suited person sighed. "Look. If you just open the doors, it'll go better for you. We won't even restrain you. You just open up, we bring you to the Admiral and then we let you go once she's happy with the answers."
"And if I don't open the lock?"
"Then we force it open, capture you, restrain you-" They hold up some metal zip cuffs. "-and still bring you to the Admiral. Only now, your ship is damaged and you can't leave once she's finished speaking. Your choice."
Fen cut the intercom. "Fuck." she said to nobody, and pressed the purge button. Both airlock door snapped open and there was a puff of air as the pressures equalized. Fen's ears were pained for a moment, but she swallowed and her ears popped.
The guard lifted their helmet. It was two men and a woman who looked so similar they could have been related. The woman smiled. "Thank you, really. My name is Lieutenant Shelly Cooper. What's yours?"
"I'm Captain Fenchurch Whitehorse, but please call me Fen."
"Very well, Fen. Who else is aboard?"
"The rest of my crew. They're on the Command Deck. There are four of us."
That caused Lieutenant Cooper to raise an eyebrow, "Four? That's it?"
Fen smiled awkwardly. "I wasn't able to hire anymore crew than that. Believe me when I say I've been trying." It wasn't a lie, not really. Fen found that there weren't many people who were willing to sign on to an unproven merc company, even if they were a couple years old.
The Lieutenant turned to one of the men behind her. "What did the bioscan say?"
He looked down at a pad strapped to the arm of his suit and tapped at it with a gloved hand. "She's not lying. Ship is empty except for the command deck."
"Curious." Cooper stared hard at Fen. "Have we met? Are you from Sol? You seem familiar to me."
"I don't see how. I grew up in a Gren station, far outside of Colonial space." Again, it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth. Of course people in the military would know what the first Empress looked like.
"Hmm. Okay. If your crew agrees to keep the reactor powered down and be powered by an umbilical, they can stay confined to the ship and you accompany us. Deal?"
"Yes, I agree to those terms. Let me go tell my crew."
Lieutenant Cooper nods. "You have three minutes."
Fen hurries back to the command deck. "The Admiral wants to talk to me. They said you can stay here so long as you agree to be powered only by their umbilical."
Zhe stood up and crossed her arms, her tail swishing irritatedly. "It won't matter, because we're coming too."
Northern looked to Zhe and sighed, but only a little. "We can't leave you out to dry, Fen. We'll come along too. How bad can it be? Plus, if we come with you we can't suffer "an unfortunate accident" in the hangar."
Fen exhaled. She hadn't realized she was holding her breath in. "Thanks Northern, Zhe." She turned to Stormy. "You're welcome to come along, but I also know this isn't your thing. We had just hired you after all."
Stormy looked at Northern who shrugged with her eyes. "Up to you."
She runs her hands over her face. "Fuck, me. I swear Northern, you know how to pick them." Stormy stands up and smiles. "I'll come along, what the hell. Sitting on the ship was going to be boring by myself anyway."
The four of them went to the airlock, and Fen went up to Lieutenant Cooper "I spoke to my crew, and they want to accompany me."
Lieutenant Cooper throws up her hands. "Fine, I guess we'll just give you the VIP tour on the way." She gestures out towards the hangar. "Here is the hangar, where we store our smaller ships and boats, as well as the frigate of a merc captain we captured that the admiral wants to speak to and offered to let her crew stay onboard but they want to follow their captain to the ends of the galaxy."
Fen crossed her arms, but said nothing.
"Come on then. We'll find you some more chairs or something." Lieutenant Cooper turned on her heel and walked out of the hangar, without waiting for them to follow. The two guards with her looked at each other and one of them gestured for them to follow.
Not too far from the hangar, Lieutenant Cooper came upon a small conference room. She opened the door and led them inside. As they sat, a steward came by with a small cart of drinks. Fen was offered and accepted a coffee, and they went around offering beverages. Lieutenant Cooper also took a coffee, but everyone else abstained.
Cooper took a sip and looked down at the comm on her wrist. "The Admiral will be here shortly. Please be respectful. She's... lived a long life and doesn't suffer fools. If you want to make it back to your ship, answer her questions quickly and honestly."
Fen wasn't halfway through her coffee with the door chimed. Lieutenant Cooper stood. "This is where I leave you. The guards will wait outside the door and - should you be able - will escort you back to your ship." Her face was odd. She looked worried, and also like she felt bad for them. Just what kind of person was this Admiral?"
The door whooshed open and the Admiral strode in. She was about the same height as Cooper, maybe a few centimeters taller than Fen. Her hair was blond streaked with grey and she wore it clipped very short on the back and sides and a little longer in the front. She wore her hat at an angle that probably was against regulations. Her uniform was immaculate and her chest bulged with medals. She had a hard, but not unattractive face, lined with time. As she entered, she looked down at everyone sitting, and as she passed over them she stopped at Fen, and her breath caught.
"You are dismissed, Lieutenant."
Cooper saluted sharply. "Yes, Admiral."
"Dismiss the guards as well. I will not need them."
"Admiral? With all due respect-"
The Admiral turned to face Cooper and stared at her. Without saying anything at all, Fen could feel her shouting at the Lieutenant. Her gaze was withering. Cooper swallowed and saluted again. "Yes, Admiral."
The door closed behind her and the Admiral's demeanor immediately changed. She shrank down a little, looked older, less hard. She strode around the room and glanced down at the carafe of coffee. She poured herself a cup and sat at the head of the table. While everyone watched, rapt. She took a sip and placed it down on the table without a clink. She looked at Fen.
"You look like her, you know? I can see that you're different. A product of your upbringing. It's your eyes, and the way you carry yourself. I can see so much of her though. It's a little spooky."
Fen blinked. Whatever she expected, it wasn't this. "You know I'm a clone of the first Empress?"
The admiral laughed. Her voice was surprisingly musical. "Fen, I knew Melody. I was friends with her. I... I was on a different ship when she was killed. I became Empress after her."
Stormy gasped. "No. No way. She retired to Venus, and let her daughter reign. She would be over five hundred years old. You're not her."
The admiral smirked. "If you know all that, then you know that the Nanites can extend life. I can't do the Voice anymore, and it's been more than two centuries since I carried a crown and wings, but I am still me.
Northern turned and stared at Stormy. "Who is it, Stormy?"
The admiral spread her hands wide. "I am Empress Helen Raaden, First of Her Name, Ruler of Sol - Retired."
2024.05.19 02:08 saintmada The hypocrisy is ridiculous
I think it's sort of ridiculous, the double standards. How is it fair that it's not possible for a man to want to be taller for themselves? Women can do makeup and dress nicely and wear high heels for themselves but as soon as a man wears elevator shoes, it "reeks of insecurity" "ew i would never date a man who was so unconfident", and "just be you bro". And don't get me started on the comments on leg lengthening surgery. How come women can get breast surgery, BBLs, botox, etc. etc. with no judgement but LLS is soooo bad? The double standards are genuinely insane. Is it so far off that we might just want to be taller for ourselves? That we want to feel more masculine too? (Not implying that short men are not masculine btw) Maybe we want our girlfriends to be able to look up at us ?
I'm 5'2 (💀) so I'm seriously considering LLS, if I can afford it in the future as a luxury I'll get it. But in the meanwhile, why do I get laughed at when I tell people I'm wearing elevator shoes. Is it not the same as a woman wearing makeup?
This is in no way hate towards women, I don't care if women wears makeup or has breast surgery or whatever. That is your choice and I completely respect that, whether you do it for yourself or for others! But in return, she who wears makeup and such should not be so judgmental as well, is that not so? Hypocrisy is never a good look.
P.S- Sorry if this has been posted so much before. I was in need of some new cheap height insoles because my current ones are very uncomfortable, but every time I search on short it is like "just be you brooo". Any recommendations? Preferably, I'd like to be able to walk in them, are the ones from Temu and such any good?
submitted by saintmada to shortguys [link] [comments]
I'm 5'2 (💀) so I'm seriously considering LLS, if I can afford it in the future as a luxury I'll get it. But in the meanwhile, why do I get laughed at when I tell people I'm wearing elevator shoes. Is it not the same as a woman wearing makeup?
This is in no way hate towards women, I don't care if women wears makeup or has breast surgery or whatever. That is your choice and I completely respect that, whether you do it for yourself or for others! But in return, she who wears makeup and such should not be so judgmental as well, is that not so? Hypocrisy is never a good look.
P.S- Sorry if this has been posted so much before. I was in need of some new cheap height insoles because my current ones are very uncomfortable, but every time I search on short it is like "just be you brooo". Any recommendations? Preferably, I'd like to be able to walk in them, are the ones from Temu and such any good?
2024.05.19 02:05 snuffaficionada tbd
"Princess, please remain close to me now, these woods are dangerous. Infested with goblins."
Anastasia, second captain of the royal guard, was an impressive woman any day of the week, large, with broad shoulders, muscular arms and legs. But now, in full plate armor, her helmet hiding half her face, which warm, friendly expression normally helped to ease her martial experience, and im combination with her wide hips and chest had led to her soldiers giving her the respectfull nickname "Momma bear", she looked outright terrifing.
"But surely, you three are more than a match for any goblin we might encounter?", the princesses best friend, the Lady Kyra asked with an amused puff and waved at the three guards accompaning the two highborn girls.
She was wearing a beautiful blue dress, tight on her curvy upper body, but flowy past her hips. She sat elegantly and with thr confidence of any young highborn woman who spent more time in the sidesaddle ontop her horse, than in her studies. Her long flowy dark hair in perfect curls as always, her slighty tanned skin just above what would be considered appropriate for a nobelwoman who didn't have to work the fields.
"Aye, a single goblin is not a threat, Mylady, but they tend not to come alone", the second guard Athena chimed in.
Younger and less massive than Anastasia, she was still a force to be reckoned with, with an athletic body, tight and lean, though not without a decent amount of muscle. Her bronzed skin almost matched the color of the bronze-armour her knightly order was famous for still using, even after Steel having become wildly known and wildly used, her short black hair matching the Lady Kyra.
She gestured towards the woods. "There are probably a dozen of goblins in those woods, just waiting to swarm unsuspecting, ill prepared victims. They attsck always in huge groups. Since a single goblin would barely reach to my chest and weigh less than half of me, a single one would be easily overpowered. Also, since they are sneaky by nature, the don't attack in the open, prefering to ambush they victims."
"Are... are you sure we are save to enter this forrest at all? Shouldn't we circle around it?" The princess asked, guiding her horse - maybe instinctively - closer to Anastasias. The princess` looks stood in stark contrast to her best friend. Where Kyras was curvy, the princess was petite, her hair - though as long as Kyra - was red and straight with only a very light natural curl. Also, while she wore a wide green dress matching her eye color, the dress was so flowy, she could ride a normal saddle - something her mother - the Queen - had insisted on she learned, due to the possibility of needing "to ride for real" like her mother had called it. But with her pale porcelain skin, the high cheekbones, the full red lips and those big, round eyes she was without a doubt one of the greatest beauties in the realm.
"We will be safe, my princess" the big woman calmed her down, reaching for her and putting her heavy plate-gauntlet on the young womans shoulder. "We are on our guard and heavily armed. I doubt they will pick a fight 12 on three. It would be suicide for them.“ As if to stress her words, she reached for her sword and loosened it it its scabbered, with Athena following her example.
Medea, the third member of the small group of guard, who had fallen back slightly previously to check up on a trail, caught up to the other four women. Her gorgeous face was radiating, her joy lighting up an already great day. Clearly, the woman who had been a huntress not long ago, reveled in being out in nature, and not locked in a castle of stone. In contrast to the other guards, she didn´t wear plate armour, but instead leather armour with metal scales fixed onto it. Also, she was significantly smaller than the other two women. Shooting her heavy bow had given her muscular shoulders and back, as well as toned arms, but also her legs and butt were very well trained, looking even bigger, considering the woman was barely 5 feet. Her short brown hair was only be kept together by a single leather-headband. On her saddle hang a bow and on her back a big knife.
„I have never been to these woods myself“, she explained. „But I have heared gruesome tales of more than one unfortunate woman who went into them unprepared and was ravaged and massacred by goblins. And not necessarily in that order“, she remarked, as she let her eyes wander over the trees right in front of the small group.
„Enough!“ Anastasia cut her of, as she saw the princesses face getting even paler.
Medea raised a hand in aknowledgement. While she was a very capable warrior, she was still new to the demands of appropriate behaviour around noblewomen.
The shadow of the big leaf trees fell over the five women, as they followed the path into the wood. The path itself was well maintaned, with the plentiful undergrowth of the forrest having been cut away. It was a nice, peacefull atmosphere. The big trees to both sides of the road gently swayed in a gentle breeze, their branches forming a dome-like ceiling over the path, birds chirping, and several small animals to the side of the road to be seen.
Suddenly, Kyras horse, a beautiful white stallion, started to prance, and whicker. „Keep him calm, Mylady!“ Anastasia ordered and looked around on high alert. Kyra pulled on her horses rains and struggled to stay on top of him, as he clearly tried to break out, making a jump sidewards and buckling, almost throwing her of. „I can´t! Damn, he is going crazy!“, she squealed, fear creaping in her voice just as much as pure surprise, since her well trained Hose normally never acted that way. Than, the stallion reared, and jumped, loudhly neighing forward and ran along the path, before he took a small gap between trees and dissapeared into the undergrowth, his rider screaming curses, though clearly not less scared than angry.
„Gods be damned. Medea! After her!“, Anastasia commanded and drew her sword. She reached for the princesses horse and grabbed the rains. „Stay close, your highness!“ The princess, scared, clang to her horse and didn´t even dare thinking about going anywhere.
Medea spured her horse on and galloped after the girl, whose screams they could still hear in the distance. „I am coming Mylady!“ The small woman yelled out, as the horse jumped of the road into the woods, where Kyra had dissapeared.
Athena drew her sword as well and gestured towards a small forrest clearing a bit further ahead and to the left – the opposite side to where Kyra and Medea had dissapeared to.
„We should get of the path, we are sitting ducks here!“ she shouted.
Anastasia nodded in agreement and the three galloped onto the forrest clearing.
submitted by snuffaficionada to u/snuffaficionada [link] [comments]
Anastasia, second captain of the royal guard, was an impressive woman any day of the week, large, with broad shoulders, muscular arms and legs. But now, in full plate armor, her helmet hiding half her face, which warm, friendly expression normally helped to ease her martial experience, and im combination with her wide hips and chest had led to her soldiers giving her the respectfull nickname "Momma bear", she looked outright terrifing.
"But surely, you three are more than a match for any goblin we might encounter?", the princesses best friend, the Lady Kyra asked with an amused puff and waved at the three guards accompaning the two highborn girls.
She was wearing a beautiful blue dress, tight on her curvy upper body, but flowy past her hips. She sat elegantly and with thr confidence of any young highborn woman who spent more time in the sidesaddle ontop her horse, than in her studies. Her long flowy dark hair in perfect curls as always, her slighty tanned skin just above what would be considered appropriate for a nobelwoman who didn't have to work the fields.
"Aye, a single goblin is not a threat, Mylady, but they tend not to come alone", the second guard Athena chimed in.
Younger and less massive than Anastasia, she was still a force to be reckoned with, with an athletic body, tight and lean, though not without a decent amount of muscle. Her bronzed skin almost matched the color of the bronze-armour her knightly order was famous for still using, even after Steel having become wildly known and wildly used, her short black hair matching the Lady Kyra.
She gestured towards the woods. "There are probably a dozen of goblins in those woods, just waiting to swarm unsuspecting, ill prepared victims. They attsck always in huge groups. Since a single goblin would barely reach to my chest and weigh less than half of me, a single one would be easily overpowered. Also, since they are sneaky by nature, the don't attack in the open, prefering to ambush they victims."
"Are... are you sure we are save to enter this forrest at all? Shouldn't we circle around it?" The princess asked, guiding her horse - maybe instinctively - closer to Anastasias. The princess` looks stood in stark contrast to her best friend. Where Kyras was curvy, the princess was petite, her hair - though as long as Kyra - was red and straight with only a very light natural curl. Also, while she wore a wide green dress matching her eye color, the dress was so flowy, she could ride a normal saddle - something her mother - the Queen - had insisted on she learned, due to the possibility of needing "to ride for real" like her mother had called it. But with her pale porcelain skin, the high cheekbones, the full red lips and those big, round eyes she was without a doubt one of the greatest beauties in the realm.
"We will be safe, my princess" the big woman calmed her down, reaching for her and putting her heavy plate-gauntlet on the young womans shoulder. "We are on our guard and heavily armed. I doubt they will pick a fight 12 on three. It would be suicide for them.“ As if to stress her words, she reached for her sword and loosened it it its scabbered, with Athena following her example.
Medea, the third member of the small group of guard, who had fallen back slightly previously to check up on a trail, caught up to the other four women. Her gorgeous face was radiating, her joy lighting up an already great day. Clearly, the woman who had been a huntress not long ago, reveled in being out in nature, and not locked in a castle of stone. In contrast to the other guards, she didn´t wear plate armour, but instead leather armour with metal scales fixed onto it. Also, she was significantly smaller than the other two women. Shooting her heavy bow had given her muscular shoulders and back, as well as toned arms, but also her legs and butt were very well trained, looking even bigger, considering the woman was barely 5 feet. Her short brown hair was only be kept together by a single leather-headband. On her saddle hang a bow and on her back a big knife.
„I have never been to these woods myself“, she explained. „But I have heared gruesome tales of more than one unfortunate woman who went into them unprepared and was ravaged and massacred by goblins. And not necessarily in that order“, she remarked, as she let her eyes wander over the trees right in front of the small group.
„Enough!“ Anastasia cut her of, as she saw the princesses face getting even paler.
Medea raised a hand in aknowledgement. While she was a very capable warrior, she was still new to the demands of appropriate behaviour around noblewomen.
The shadow of the big leaf trees fell over the five women, as they followed the path into the wood. The path itself was well maintaned, with the plentiful undergrowth of the forrest having been cut away. It was a nice, peacefull atmosphere. The big trees to both sides of the road gently swayed in a gentle breeze, their branches forming a dome-like ceiling over the path, birds chirping, and several small animals to the side of the road to be seen.
Suddenly, Kyras horse, a beautiful white stallion, started to prance, and whicker. „Keep him calm, Mylady!“ Anastasia ordered and looked around on high alert. Kyra pulled on her horses rains and struggled to stay on top of him, as he clearly tried to break out, making a jump sidewards and buckling, almost throwing her of. „I can´t! Damn, he is going crazy!“, she squealed, fear creaping in her voice just as much as pure surprise, since her well trained Hose normally never acted that way. Than, the stallion reared, and jumped, loudhly neighing forward and ran along the path, before he took a small gap between trees and dissapeared into the undergrowth, his rider screaming curses, though clearly not less scared than angry.
„Gods be damned. Medea! After her!“, Anastasia commanded and drew her sword. She reached for the princesses horse and grabbed the rains. „Stay close, your highness!“ The princess, scared, clang to her horse and didn´t even dare thinking about going anywhere.
Medea spured her horse on and galloped after the girl, whose screams they could still hear in the distance. „I am coming Mylady!“ The small woman yelled out, as the horse jumped of the road into the woods, where Kyra had dissapeared.
Athena drew her sword as well and gestured towards a small forrest clearing a bit further ahead and to the left – the opposite side to where Kyra and Medea had dissapeared to.
„We should get of the path, we are sitting ducks here!“ she shouted.
Anastasia nodded in agreement and the three galloped onto the forrest clearing.
2024.05.19 02:04 SilverArugula8816 Do we women actually “do it for ourselves”?
The typical argument goes as such:
“I do X, Y, and Z because it makes me feel sexy/confident/good about myself.”
Cool. But, why can’t you feel those things without? Or is it because there are precedents set that we feel we need to abide by due to media consumption and we just don’t want to be brutally upfront to ourselves about it?
I’m genuinely curious and wanting input because as an autistic woman (sorry), I’ve never genuinely understood why anyone would want to wear uncomfortable clothing and makeup, or dedicate over an hour to getting ready, so they can feel good about themselves.
I admire it, don’t get me wrong. Some makeup looks are gorgeous and I’m an absolute sloth who just doesn’t have that motivation.
I appreciate this may come off as internalised misogyny, but I genuinely want some productive input and felt if I asked this elsewhere I’d be reported and doxxed.
submitted by SilverArugula8816 to redscarepod [link] [comments]
“I do X, Y, and Z because it makes me feel sexy/confident/good about myself.”
Cool. But, why can’t you feel those things without
I’m genuinely curious and wanting input because as an autistic woman (sorry), I’ve never genuinely understood why anyone would want to wear uncomfortable clothing and makeup, or dedicate over an hour to getting ready, so they can feel good about themselves.
I admire it, don’t get me wrong. Some makeup looks are gorgeous and I’m an absolute sloth who just doesn’t have that motivation.
I appreciate this may come off as internalised misogyny, but I genuinely want some productive input and felt if I asked this elsewhere I’d be reported and doxxed.
2024.05.19 02:02 SkyrimIsLife420 I may have met a serial killer 2
Hey all! So I wanted to give a part two since I'm not high now lol, and also I wanted to clear up some things and add in some other details I left out that I just remembered. If you haven't seen the first part of this post then I suggest going to that, otherwise you'll be very confused. Also, I forgot to add this in my first post but DON'T READ if triggered by certain topics like r*ape, SA, murder, abuse, etc. Another thing is, this post is going to be a lot darker and aside from talking about what happened, I'm also looking for advice on my mental state and how to cope. So please read with caution because I'm going to be talking about what happened with B, but also about my past before him and how what happened is affecting my past trauma.
So, I'm not going to retell the whole story but I am going to be bringing up a lot of parts from it and things I didn't realize until after the incident happened. And some of the things I didn't think of until my friend brought it up. So in my first post, I was talking about how B (26M) was REALLY into Jeffrey Dahmer. Well, in the show we watched with Evan Peters, I noticed a lot of things Jeffrey did as well as already knowing a lot about him before watching it. I noticed that B was doing a lot of things similar to him. Now, I forgot to add in this part last time, but B was really 'straight phobic.' Now I'm a bi transman but I don't hate cis / straight people. In fact, a lot of my friends are cis and in straight relationships. For some reason though, he did, to a weird extent. And even though he was being respectful in the beginning, I'm starting to get a feeling he wasn't actually gay or cared about trans people. Because it seems as though ALL of his former partners were transmen. Which isn't that weird I guess, and he did tell me he tried dating a cis man before but it didn't work. After I met him in person he was telling me that he really liked his trans partners to still have sex vaginally and he liked tits. So, I was kind of confused at that. I think what was really going on was that he isn't gay but wanted to be so he could be like Jeffrey Dahmer. I know it's a bit of a stretch, but you'll see why later. So another thing is, Jeffrey would always ask his potential victims to go back to his place for drinks and to take photos, particularly sexual ones. Jeffrey would then lace the drinks and go on to do weird things to his victims while taking their pictures. And while I was trapped at his place, B kept pushing alcohol on me, A LOT. So much so, that when I kept refusing he started getting angry. However, once I pretended to take a sip it was like his whole attitude changed. He also kept joking it was laced, like EVERYTIME he offered me some. Even though I didn't actually drink any, like I said in the first post, I still got a few drops on my lips and in my mouth. After that I started to get a headache and was a bit dizzy. Also, he had told me before that he liked to take pictures of his partners in sexual poses while they held his guns. Aside from the guns, that's EXACTLY WHAT JEFFREY WOULD DO. For some reason, I didn't piece any of this together until afterwards. I guess I was too shaken up to think clearly. I said this before as well, but when I first entered his house, it was pitch black and he had black out curtains on EVERY WINDOW in his house. His bedroom, living room, kitchen, I mean his whole house made it seem like it was night outside. Another thing that is eerily similar to Jeffrey, is that B told me before I met him in person he always liked dating someone younger. I, at the time, was nineteen and he was twenty five, about to turn twenty six. I honestly don't know what was wrong with me so have not seen the BIG RED FLAGS in the beginning, but he played it off so well I didn't even notice them until after everything happened. And it isn't like me to go for older guys, I usually try to go for someone two years older or younger than me, as I don't like have a huge age gap between me and my partner. Anyway though, Jeffrey always went for younger guys, as well as sometimes KIDS. So, that's another thing similar between them, as well as the fact that B told me he was into little brother play. Where he makes his partners act like a younger brother during sex, etc. He also told me he liked for his partners to SUCK ON BINKIES. BRUHHHH, no thanks bro, I'm good. See, if it was just one of these things that he liked / was into, then I guess it would be normal. Just a guy into a weird ass kink, but all these things combined just did not sit right with me as well as how he was acting. Now, I said in my other post that basically the ENTIRE TIME I was with him, he had a weird ass expression on his face that made me uncomfortable. I wish I could explain better, but it was like constipated / confused look, like Edward from Twilight when he does those weird facial expressions. His brows were always furrowed and he looked like he was uncomfortable / anxious the whole time. He was being super sketchy. His body language was just really off-putting and made me feel weird. And the thing he kept ranting about the most was how Jeffrey Dahmer was misunderstood and just needed someone to be there for him, and then maybe he wouldn't have killed people. The thing that scared me the most was how he said he felt the same way, that he wished he could just have someone not leave him and how he had trust issues after his former partners. Especially the one I mentioned in the last post, about how his ex partner before me snuck out in the middle of the night and got his family to come get him. His family lived across the country, so it had to have been pretty bad for his ex to call his parents and tell them to come get him. Because they drove across multiple different states to come pick him up in the middle of the night so he could sneak away. I have a major feeling that B left out a lot of their fight and why his ex actually left. Not to mention while I was with him, he watched every move I made and wouldn't let me get on my phone without him seeing what I was doing / texting to people. I have a feeling if he thought I was trying to leave him he would've done something bad. Just like Jeffrey. Jeffrey wouldn't always hurt his victims (Not at first anyway) it was always when they said they had to leave that he would get angry and force them to stay. So, idk man, I could've been killed or worse. Also, I know I said I could've been killed or worse, and some of you are probably thinking what's worse than being killed? Well, to me, a lot of things he could've done would have been worse. Especially if he was trying to be like Dahmer, then I could've gotten acid injected into my brain or been r*aped. Which is exactly what I think he was trying to do, with how much alcohol he was trying to push on me. He also kept 'petting' me and touching my thighs while he told me all the ways he'd kill me 'if he was a serial killer.' I genuinely think that something bad would've happened if I didn't have one HELL of an excuse to leave. Because honestly, my mom couldn't have given a better excuse for me to go that also sounded real and not like a lie. Because, like I said before, I had told him before I met him that my mother had health issues and was always in and out of the hospital, so it was perfect that she used that as an excuse. He got really cold and wasn't speaking to me when he heard my phone call and that I had to leave, but I think if I would've tried to leave without that excuse or by giving him an obvious lie, then I might not be here. I'm also super grateful to my best friends who let me come to their place and stay late instead of going home. Me and my best friend, basically my sister, have talked about this a lot since it happened and every time we do, we try to rationalize why someone would act like that, other than being an actual serial killer / r*pist. But we can never think of a reason besides the fact that he simply is what he seems like. A really unhinged person who could've hurt me badly. Also, this was my FIRST TRUE experience in online dating and I honestly think I'm never going to try that again. I've run into so many creeps trying to date online, AND in real life. Most people who aren't trans probably don't realize or know this, but there are a lot of men that want to do really weird and fucked up things to trans people because I guess they think we are some mutant or something, or 'the best of both worlds.' I've run into them a lot, and when I met B, I thought that was over. I thought I had met an actual good person who was educated on trans topics and was respectful of my boundaries and my body. Nope. Now I'm starting to think dating, at least where I live now, is almost impossible and I think I'm going to be alone for awhile. :') Not to mention, I'm now traumatized after what happened with B, and I already had trouble trusting men, and just people in general. Before meeting him I have already been SAed before, multiple times. I guess I'm simply asking for advice on how to move on from something like this. I was trying, and doing kind of ok, moving on from things that had happened before I met B, but now after what happened with him I feel like I'm back sliding and it's making me relive all my past traumas. I basically trust no one, when it comes to sexual things, besides my two best friends I've known since childhood. I tend to over sexualize everything, even things that aren't sexual at all, and get scared around ANYONE, even family members, who I know deep down don't see me like that. I was also abused as a kid and wasn't able to get out of it until I was eighteen, and I've only just turned twenty now, so it wasn't even until two years ago I was still being abused. I feel I've fallen into the dark again and my panic attacks have gotten worse again. I feel depressed and I didn't realize until recently that I'm suicidal again. I didn't realize it until recently, because when I was younger and suicidal, I knew I was. I've tried unaliving myself before so I didn't think about it because I don't feel that way now. It's different this time. Instead of my thoughts directly wanting me to pull out a gun and, ya know, this time it's more subtle and more of a subconscious action. Like closing my eyes for a few seconds while driving. Or intrusive thoughts about ramming head first into the car in the other lane. Or going hiking and thinking of what it would feel like to step off the cliff. I'm honestly just tired. I feel like every person I meet has some kind of ulterior motive, whatever it is. I'm working at a really nice job but it seems like every time I save up money and am doing good for my future, I have to use it on something unexpected that pops into my life. I'm living with my grandparents for now because they said they weren't going to charge me rent, and I'm super grateful for that, but even still I can't keep money and I kind of just don't see my future anymore. Both my parents were drug addicts, my mother to pain pills then xans after that, my father was mainly an alcoholic but also did meth, pills, and other things. It doesn't help because when I was younger, around my early teen years (13-16) I started smoking cigs when I was 12, then I started smoking weed, which I still do, but then it got worse and I've tried xans, snorting pills I didn't even know what they were, drinking, and I've even done shrooms and LSD. I've also had some really bad trips on LSD that made my severe panic disorder worse and after that I now disassociate a lot too and have trouble knowing if I'm in reality while having a panic attack. And after what happened with B, his house and the smell (Cigs and booze) just reminded me what it was like living with my parents in that crack house looking trailer. It's like my brain won't let me let go of the past and move on. It's like I'm constantly stuck there still. And aside from dating, it's also super hard to meet people as friends where I live. I love my two best friends, one of which has been with me since we were basically fetuses and her parents and mine were friends, so her parents were also abusive drug addicts. It's nice to have someone so close and how we can relate to what we went through. We joke that we were traumatized by our parents, but also by each other's parents as well lol. Even though I'm grateful for them, you never know what's going to happen in the future and I don't want to be solely dependent on them and be able to make new friends, but I just can't. I feel so alone, and my friend I grew up with has been moved out a lot longer than me and has had time to heal, and I don't wanna keep dumping my mental problems on her because it's unfair to her. I feel like I'm just bringing her back to our past with me. When I moved out, I completely cut ties with my father, I don't even like calling him that, as he was the first person to SA me and he is, in general, and evil person. I try to think that evil people don't exist, but then I think of him and I realize they do. My mom though, is a good person when she isn't on anything. Recently though, I blocked her and haven't talked to her in over a month because she OD again on xans and amphetamines. I kind of realized recently that she is almost as bad as my father, even though I never wanted to admit that to myself. Because when I was younger, I admitted to her that he had SAed me and she kept pressuring me to tell her what happened, like, IN DETAIL. I told her no because I didn't want to relive it and think about it, even now I have a lot of repressed memories. And because I wouldn't tell her EXACTLY what happened, she doesn't believe. I think she does, deep down, but she doesn't want it to be real. And after her OD last month, she tried telling me she didn't and that it was just her BLOOD PRESSURE. LIKE OH MY GOD BITCH, WHY DO YOU LIE? She must think I'm stupid or something. Before I blocked her, I cussed her out over text and said something like "Who do you think was the first person at the hospital? Not grandma, not your husband, ME. I've always been there for you first. Who do you think told me you had OD? The doctors when I first got there!" And she still denies it, even though when me and my friend got the hospital she was lying there naked (they had to cut her clothes off to save her) with a breathing tube stuck down her throat. I've tried helping her my whole life but apparently she doesn't want help. So now I've gotten tired of her BS and I blocked her and now my grandma is pressuring me to talking to her, luckily though, my grandpa went through something similar as a kid and understands how it is so he isn't guilt tripping me into talking with her. I'm just tired of having to put into traumatic situations. My mental health just keeps getting worse. Somehow, trauma always finds me and nowadays, it seems my only friends are my demons. It used to not be like this, but now even when I'm with my two closest friends, I still feel lonely. Like they are reminding me that when I leave my friends, I'm alone again. Anyway, I know this probably isn't the right subreddit for this, but I kind of just started ranting, sorry for that.
Also, to clear some things up, no I don't use drugs, not anymore. I've never really been an addict at all in my life, somehow. I just did drugs because I wanted to escape when I was younger, and thankfully I never got addicted to any of them. Not like you can get addicted to LSD or shrooms anyway. The only thing I've got addicted to was cigarettes, which rn, is the least of my concerns. And as for weed, I used to be a major stoner but it started making my panic attacks worse so I stopped for a few years, cold turkey, and only recently started smoking it again. So, I'm not worried about weed and if anything, it's been helping now. Especially since I don't smoke it nearly as much as I used to. So, for those worried about me being or getting on drugs, don't worry I'm fine. I have made a clear boundary for myself to never do anything besides smoking my cigs and weed. Cause I've seen how drugs affect my parents and others I've known and I've sworn to myself that I won't become them. It also sucks though because I see psychedelics as something that can help a lot of people with trauma, and the first shrooms trip I ever did changed my life for the better. Now though, after my bad LSD trip, I don't know if I can every do them again. Maybe one day, but not for the foreseeable furture. Again, sorry for going on a rant. I'll probably post this to another subreddit and see if anyone can help. I'm not looking for therapy as I don't have the money or health insurance. Just looking for someone who can relate that has been able to move past similar things and find happiness. If you've read this far, thank you. Like seriously, from the bottom of my heart. It means a lot to me that someone would read about another person's problems and life experience. I hope whoever is reading this is having a great day / night wherever you are, and are living your best life. And for those reading that are going through a similar situation right now and can't get out, I promise you aren't alone. I haven't really gotten better, so I can't say things get better, but I can say it DOES get easier. All I can say is, you aren't alone in it. There are others, like me, who know your pain. Keep living, it'll be worth it. Even though I'm not doing my best and my mental problems are still with me, that doesn't mean it's all been bad. I've made a lot of amazing memories after I moved out. Keep going.
submitted by SkyrimIsLife420 to Stalking [link] [comments]
So, I'm not going to retell the whole story but I am going to be bringing up a lot of parts from it and things I didn't realize until after the incident happened. And some of the things I didn't think of until my friend brought it up. So in my first post, I was talking about how B (26M) was REALLY into Jeffrey Dahmer. Well, in the show we watched with Evan Peters, I noticed a lot of things Jeffrey did as well as already knowing a lot about him before watching it. I noticed that B was doing a lot of things similar to him. Now, I forgot to add in this part last time, but B was really 'straight phobic.' Now I'm a bi transman but I don't hate cis / straight people. In fact, a lot of my friends are cis and in straight relationships. For some reason though, he did, to a weird extent. And even though he was being respectful in the beginning, I'm starting to get a feeling he wasn't actually gay or cared about trans people. Because it seems as though ALL of his former partners were transmen. Which isn't that weird I guess, and he did tell me he tried dating a cis man before but it didn't work. After I met him in person he was telling me that he really liked his trans partners to still have sex vaginally and he liked tits. So, I was kind of confused at that. I think what was really going on was that he isn't gay but wanted to be so he could be like Jeffrey Dahmer. I know it's a bit of a stretch, but you'll see why later. So another thing is, Jeffrey would always ask his potential victims to go back to his place for drinks and to take photos, particularly sexual ones. Jeffrey would then lace the drinks and go on to do weird things to his victims while taking their pictures. And while I was trapped at his place, B kept pushing alcohol on me, A LOT. So much so, that when I kept refusing he started getting angry. However, once I pretended to take a sip it was like his whole attitude changed. He also kept joking it was laced, like EVERYTIME he offered me some. Even though I didn't actually drink any, like I said in the first post, I still got a few drops on my lips and in my mouth. After that I started to get a headache and was a bit dizzy. Also, he had told me before that he liked to take pictures of his partners in sexual poses while they held his guns. Aside from the guns, that's EXACTLY WHAT JEFFREY WOULD DO. For some reason, I didn't piece any of this together until afterwards. I guess I was too shaken up to think clearly. I said this before as well, but when I first entered his house, it was pitch black and he had black out curtains on EVERY WINDOW in his house. His bedroom, living room, kitchen, I mean his whole house made it seem like it was night outside. Another thing that is eerily similar to Jeffrey, is that B told me before I met him in person he always liked dating someone younger. I, at the time, was nineteen and he was twenty five, about to turn twenty six. I honestly don't know what was wrong with me so have not seen the BIG RED FLAGS in the beginning, but he played it off so well I didn't even notice them until after everything happened. And it isn't like me to go for older guys, I usually try to go for someone two years older or younger than me, as I don't like have a huge age gap between me and my partner. Anyway though, Jeffrey always went for younger guys, as well as sometimes KIDS. So, that's another thing similar between them, as well as the fact that B told me he was into little brother play. Where he makes his partners act like a younger brother during sex, etc. He also told me he liked for his partners to SUCK ON BINKIES. BRUHHHH, no thanks bro, I'm good. See, if it was just one of these things that he liked / was into, then I guess it would be normal. Just a guy into a weird ass kink, but all these things combined just did not sit right with me as well as how he was acting. Now, I said in my other post that basically the ENTIRE TIME I was with him, he had a weird ass expression on his face that made me uncomfortable. I wish I could explain better, but it was like constipated / confused look, like Edward from Twilight when he does those weird facial expressions. His brows were always furrowed and he looked like he was uncomfortable / anxious the whole time. He was being super sketchy. His body language was just really off-putting and made me feel weird. And the thing he kept ranting about the most was how Jeffrey Dahmer was misunderstood and just needed someone to be there for him, and then maybe he wouldn't have killed people. The thing that scared me the most was how he said he felt the same way, that he wished he could just have someone not leave him and how he had trust issues after his former partners. Especially the one I mentioned in the last post, about how his ex partner before me snuck out in the middle of the night and got his family to come get him. His family lived across the country, so it had to have been pretty bad for his ex to call his parents and tell them to come get him. Because they drove across multiple different states to come pick him up in the middle of the night so he could sneak away. I have a major feeling that B left out a lot of their fight and why his ex actually left. Not to mention while I was with him, he watched every move I made and wouldn't let me get on my phone without him seeing what I was doing / texting to people. I have a feeling if he thought I was trying to leave him he would've done something bad. Just like Jeffrey. Jeffrey wouldn't always hurt his victims (Not at first anyway) it was always when they said they had to leave that he would get angry and force them to stay. So, idk man, I could've been killed or worse. Also, I know I said I could've been killed or worse, and some of you are probably thinking what's worse than being killed? Well, to me, a lot of things he could've done would have been worse. Especially if he was trying to be like Dahmer, then I could've gotten acid injected into my brain or been r*aped. Which is exactly what I think he was trying to do, with how much alcohol he was trying to push on me. He also kept 'petting' me and touching my thighs while he told me all the ways he'd kill me 'if he was a serial killer.' I genuinely think that something bad would've happened if I didn't have one HELL of an excuse to leave. Because honestly, my mom couldn't have given a better excuse for me to go that also sounded real and not like a lie. Because, like I said before, I had told him before I met him that my mother had health issues and was always in and out of the hospital, so it was perfect that she used that as an excuse. He got really cold and wasn't speaking to me when he heard my phone call and that I had to leave, but I think if I would've tried to leave without that excuse or by giving him an obvious lie, then I might not be here. I'm also super grateful to my best friends who let me come to their place and stay late instead of going home. Me and my best friend, basically my sister, have talked about this a lot since it happened and every time we do, we try to rationalize why someone would act like that, other than being an actual serial killer / r*pist. But we can never think of a reason besides the fact that he simply is what he seems like. A really unhinged person who could've hurt me badly. Also, this was my FIRST TRUE experience in online dating and I honestly think I'm never going to try that again. I've run into so many creeps trying to date online, AND in real life. Most people who aren't trans probably don't realize or know this, but there are a lot of men that want to do really weird and fucked up things to trans people because I guess they think we are some mutant or something, or 'the best of both worlds.' I've run into them a lot, and when I met B, I thought that was over. I thought I had met an actual good person who was educated on trans topics and was respectful of my boundaries and my body. Nope. Now I'm starting to think dating, at least where I live now, is almost impossible and I think I'm going to be alone for awhile. :') Not to mention, I'm now traumatized after what happened with B, and I already had trouble trusting men, and just people in general. Before meeting him I have already been SAed before, multiple times. I guess I'm simply asking for advice on how to move on from something like this. I was trying, and doing kind of ok, moving on from things that had happened before I met B, but now after what happened with him I feel like I'm back sliding and it's making me relive all my past traumas. I basically trust no one, when it comes to sexual things, besides my two best friends I've known since childhood. I tend to over sexualize everything, even things that aren't sexual at all, and get scared around ANYONE, even family members, who I know deep down don't see me like that. I was also abused as a kid and wasn't able to get out of it until I was eighteen, and I've only just turned twenty now, so it wasn't even until two years ago I was still being abused. I feel I've fallen into the dark again and my panic attacks have gotten worse again. I feel depressed and I didn't realize until recently that I'm suicidal again. I didn't realize it until recently, because when I was younger and suicidal, I knew I was. I've tried unaliving myself before so I didn't think about it because I don't feel that way now. It's different this time. Instead of my thoughts directly wanting me to pull out a gun and, ya know, this time it's more subtle and more of a subconscious action. Like closing my eyes for a few seconds while driving. Or intrusive thoughts about ramming head first into the car in the other lane. Or going hiking and thinking of what it would feel like to step off the cliff. I'm honestly just tired. I feel like every person I meet has some kind of ulterior motive, whatever it is. I'm working at a really nice job but it seems like every time I save up money and am doing good for my future, I have to use it on something unexpected that pops into my life. I'm living with my grandparents for now because they said they weren't going to charge me rent, and I'm super grateful for that, but even still I can't keep money and I kind of just don't see my future anymore. Both my parents were drug addicts, my mother to pain pills then xans after that, my father was mainly an alcoholic but also did meth, pills, and other things. It doesn't help because when I was younger, around my early teen years (13-16) I started smoking cigs when I was 12, then I started smoking weed, which I still do, but then it got worse and I've tried xans, snorting pills I didn't even know what they were, drinking, and I've even done shrooms and LSD. I've also had some really bad trips on LSD that made my severe panic disorder worse and after that I now disassociate a lot too and have trouble knowing if I'm in reality while having a panic attack. And after what happened with B, his house and the smell (Cigs and booze) just reminded me what it was like living with my parents in that crack house looking trailer. It's like my brain won't let me let go of the past and move on. It's like I'm constantly stuck there still. And aside from dating, it's also super hard to meet people as friends where I live. I love my two best friends, one of which has been with me since we were basically fetuses and her parents and mine were friends, so her parents were also abusive drug addicts. It's nice to have someone so close and how we can relate to what we went through. We joke that we were traumatized by our parents, but also by each other's parents as well lol. Even though I'm grateful for them, you never know what's going to happen in the future and I don't want to be solely dependent on them and be able to make new friends, but I just can't. I feel so alone, and my friend I grew up with has been moved out a lot longer than me and has had time to heal, and I don't wanna keep dumping my mental problems on her because it's unfair to her. I feel like I'm just bringing her back to our past with me. When I moved out, I completely cut ties with my father, I don't even like calling him that, as he was the first person to SA me and he is, in general, and evil person. I try to think that evil people don't exist, but then I think of him and I realize they do. My mom though, is a good person when she isn't on anything. Recently though, I blocked her and haven't talked to her in over a month because she OD again on xans and amphetamines. I kind of realized recently that she is almost as bad as my father, even though I never wanted to admit that to myself. Because when I was younger, I admitted to her that he had SAed me and she kept pressuring me to tell her what happened, like, IN DETAIL. I told her no because I didn't want to relive it and think about it, even now I have a lot of repressed memories. And because I wouldn't tell her EXACTLY what happened, she doesn't believe. I think she does, deep down, but she doesn't want it to be real. And after her OD last month, she tried telling me she didn't and that it was just her BLOOD PRESSURE. LIKE OH MY GOD BITCH, WHY DO YOU LIE? She must think I'm stupid or something. Before I blocked her, I cussed her out over text and said something like "Who do you think was the first person at the hospital? Not grandma, not your husband, ME. I've always been there for you first. Who do you think told me you had OD? The doctors when I first got there!" And she still denies it, even though when me and my friend got the hospital she was lying there naked (they had to cut her clothes off to save her) with a breathing tube stuck down her throat. I've tried helping her my whole life but apparently she doesn't want help. So now I've gotten tired of her BS and I blocked her and now my grandma is pressuring me to talking to her, luckily though, my grandpa went through something similar as a kid and understands how it is so he isn't guilt tripping me into talking with her. I'm just tired of having to put into traumatic situations. My mental health just keeps getting worse. Somehow, trauma always finds me and nowadays, it seems my only friends are my demons. It used to not be like this, but now even when I'm with my two closest friends, I still feel lonely. Like they are reminding me that when I leave my friends, I'm alone again. Anyway, I know this probably isn't the right subreddit for this, but I kind of just started ranting, sorry for that.
Also, to clear some things up, no I don't use drugs, not anymore. I've never really been an addict at all in my life, somehow. I just did drugs because I wanted to escape when I was younger, and thankfully I never got addicted to any of them. Not like you can get addicted to LSD or shrooms anyway. The only thing I've got addicted to was cigarettes, which rn, is the least of my concerns. And as for weed, I used to be a major stoner but it started making my panic attacks worse so I stopped for a few years, cold turkey, and only recently started smoking it again. So, I'm not worried about weed and if anything, it's been helping now. Especially since I don't smoke it nearly as much as I used to. So, for those worried about me being or getting on drugs, don't worry I'm fine. I have made a clear boundary for myself to never do anything besides smoking my cigs and weed. Cause I've seen how drugs affect my parents and others I've known and I've sworn to myself that I won't become them. It also sucks though because I see psychedelics as something that can help a lot of people with trauma, and the first shrooms trip I ever did changed my life for the better. Now though, after my bad LSD trip, I don't know if I can every do them again. Maybe one day, but not for the foreseeable furture. Again, sorry for going on a rant. I'll probably post this to another subreddit and see if anyone can help. I'm not looking for therapy as I don't have the money or health insurance. Just looking for someone who can relate that has been able to move past similar things and find happiness. If you've read this far, thank you. Like seriously, from the bottom of my heart. It means a lot to me that someone would read about another person's problems and life experience. I hope whoever is reading this is having a great day / night wherever you are, and are living your best life. And for those reading that are going through a similar situation right now and can't get out, I promise you aren't alone. I haven't really gotten better, so I can't say things get better, but I can say it DOES get easier. All I can say is, you aren't alone in it. There are others, like me, who know your pain. Keep living, it'll be worth it. Even though I'm not doing my best and my mental problems are still with me, that doesn't mean it's all been bad. I've made a lot of amazing memories after I moved out. Keep going.