Can you crush sniff percocet and

Something that's been a hard pill for me to swallow and keep down is realizing that most people are consistently desired and have people liking them up into older age, while I'm 25 and I don't think anyone has genuinely ever had as little as a crush on me...
Any guy I was bold enough to tell I liked them always looked uncomfortable and promptly rejected me. And no they weren't all straight. It really hurts when I see people younger and older than me being desired by hundreds of people. I can't even get 1 single person to like me or find me to be worthy enough of their time
Any one I've messaged for a little bit ghosted me. And that's blatantly them saying they don't find me good enough. It's not even about not being good enough as a partner or not good enough in terms of personality because when you're attractive enough people are willing to coax "personality" out of you
Being good looking to the person you're talking to is the only real way to secure their interest in you
People pursue people they find attractive period. Someone you find attractive naturally just becomes the most interesting person in the world to you even if they're boring. Your brain will see that was "omg they're soo different from the norm that's soooo attractive they're not afraid to be different"
When you're attractive to people 90% of the work is already done. When you're ugly to someone they couldn't give a shit about how interesting or fun you are that's what I had to realize
There was no assortment of words, or amount of making someone laugh that would make them fall for you if you aren't already attractive enough to them
I'm aware of the good qualities I have like being caring, playful, supportive, empathetic, etc, but it doesn't make up for being ugly
My stomach always drops when I think about the amount of times I've genuinely liked someone and been either ghosted or blocked... it hurts so much because it's the other person saying that you're basically worthless and not good enough to them
I know for a fact that if I was attractive enough even with the trauma and exact same qualities I have now good and bad, people would be crawling over themselves to get to me
When you're attractive enough the good things about you are appreciated even more and the "bad" things about you serve to humanize you and make you seen as "perfectly imperfect"
but for us ugly people we are told to go on 20 year long self discovery and improvement journeys before we can ever have our first date, but that was never the real issue
The issue is How attractive your face and body is

Before we begin, I apologize in advance if this is long and rambly. Just trying to organize my thoughts and get some input from people who may have had similar experiences and/or are willing to read through my meandering bullshit.
I am a 25 year old EI with two years of experience who is currently unemployed. I started working with a mid-sized consulting company once I got my Bachelor's degree, brought on as an hourly employee in the geotechnical department while a full-time Master's student. I got my Master's in geoenvironmental engineering back in May, stuck around the company until December. Decided to take a break after leaving as one final hurrah in honor of being done with school, and am now starting the job hunt again.
There were a few different reasons I left my previous company, but one of the big ones is that I'm mainly interested in environmental work, and despite management saying they'd transfer me to a more environmentally-focused position, it never came to fruition. I wanted to try out geotechnical work because I really liked the geotech classes in uni, but I absolutely despised the work I was doing in geotech; field work was ok, but geotechnical reporting is absolutely soul-crushing. All that being said, the company I worked for also did environmental work, and I've had some low-level interaction with the department; realistically, it seems like it was just the same shit as geotechnical but with a different coat of paint. Somewhat interesting field work, followed by hours of templatized report writing and scraping the bottom of the barrel for billable hours.
Basically, I don't like geotech, and I'm worried that environmental engineering is going to be a lot of the same shit I didn't like about geotech, just under a different name and with different terms. I originally wanted to do remediation, but a lot of people I've talked to who did remediation absolutely fucking despised it. I've been looking at different jobs and subsets of engineering, and I really think something along the lines of coastal engineering would be something I'd love; the Army Corps of Civil Engineering specifically has some amazing sounding job openings, full of shit like stream and marsh restoration, jetty and coastal structure design, etc., but I really don't want to get my PE working in government, as that goes against everything I've ever been told in terms of career development. The big problem is, there are no private coastal opportunities in my city (somewhat expected, as I'm about four hours from the coast...), and I'm not planning on moving until I'm done paying my student loans.
One of the things that appeals to me with coastal engineering is that, I assume just from being a specialized market, the work looks a lot more in line with the shit I got into engineering for in the first place; design, modeling, that kind of thing. I don't want to be a project manager, I want to do technical and design work. Additionally, I want to work with water resources; this is one of the entire reasons I got into civil engineering. With that in mind, I've been looking into some local positions that I feel have some transferable skills, water resources type jobs, and it seems like nearly all of them are either stormwater or wastewater oriented, neither of which I'm particularly interested in. This is where I'm having some trouble trying to figure out what to do next.
I guess one of the big questions would be, would a job like this even exist? As in, a water resources oriented job that doesn't pertain to stormwater or wastewater? I've used a dozen different variations of searches on Indeed using keywords like modeling, water resources, water quality, etc., and it just gives me search results for wastewater work. Some examples of what I'd love to do are the things I did in my groundwater resources engineering and surface water quality modeling classes; in groundwater resources engineering, my final project included modeling the groundwater table for a local area based on well data. It was a little bit ago, so I'm a little fuzzy on the details, but another student used my model in his project and did something pertaining to contaminant transport in the groundwater. In surface water quality modeling, we did a lot of Simulink programming to model a large local watershed area. Is this kind of shit unique to academia, or can you score a job like this in consulting? If so, what are some companies I should be keeping an eye out on for job openings?

I'd like to share a lengthy and self-indulgent note about my history with the Baha'i community and the impact it had on my family and me. It's worth noting that I'm sharing this using a throwaway Reddit account that I generally reserve for browsing porn. I find funny to imagine a Baha'i apologist reading this, becoming angry and judgmental, and then, investigating my profile and ending up jerking off. With that said, let's dive into my story.
I want to share my experience in case it resonates with someone else, a lot of the stories on this Reddit helped me, and perhaps my story will give some comfort to someone else. It has taken me a while to write this down, and I'm glad I finally got around to doing it.
My parents emigrated from their homeland for reasons of principle and value. Upon their arrival, they were greeted by Baha'is who met them. And so, lovebombed and lavished with love, praise, and celebration for moving countries due to values that they portrayed as being closely aligned with the Baha'i faith, my parents fell for this validation and worked very hard once they became Baha'is in the mid-1980s.
My dad got rid of all of his whiskies, and swiftly, my parents began hosting potlucks and fireside chats, diligently working to integrate into the Baha'i ecosystem. Back then, the atmosphere was fairly light-hearted, with devotional gatherings, prayers, and a somewhat 1960s-esque hippie vibe. There was live guitar music, and joss sticks.
However, I remember Baha'i classes having an interesting edge. We were taught that Buddhists were not following a religion but merely a way of life, and that Hindus had become pantheistic because they had lost the core of their faith and religion, which had become corrupted over time. Thanks to Google, I can discover that yes indeed, this is from Lights of Guidance.
There was a significant emphasis on the importance of gender equality and the oneness of humanity – because, hey, the eighties. I feel sad there isn't anything anymore about the Virtues project - even if the Virtues project was sort of framed like it was created by Bahais.
Even in the 1980s, there was an overwhelming atmosphere that the key to being a good Baha'i was how you presented yourself rather than your actual behaviour. I recall learning an apocryphal tale of a young Baha'i who, while fasting, participated in an aerobics class and nearly fainted (yeah, aerobics, this is a real 80s fable), but was told by another Baha'i to prioritize representing the faith well over completing the fast because *it looked bad*. From a very early age, I learned the importance of putting the right face forward.
My parents then took their relationship with the Baha'i faith to the next level and volunteered at the World Centre in Haifa. As a child, this was a pretty interesting experience. I was suddenly immersed in the Iranian, or rather, Persian community, with its strong culture of martyrdom. Even as a child, every event seemed to feature graphic videos depicting young kids being taken from their homes. It was quite frightening, and I remember being afraid.
I also recall a strong sense of hierarchy within the community. My family lived in a small apartment with a very old, busted-up car from the 1970s, while others resided in nice homes with pleasant views and drove nice cars. I attended a local Israeli school, which was a cultural experience in itself, while my peers my age went to the much fancier American school. It's important to note that, at this point, the conversation about the "great catastrophe" – two-thirds of the world's population dying, leading to a period of peace and the entry by troops – was a prevalent topic openly discussed at the World Centre.
We completed our stint there, even living through the Gulf War. Upon returning to my birth country, my parents chose to live in places with smaller Baha'i communities, as they wanted to support and help establish Local Spiritual Assemblies. Things had changed by this point, not only because I was a teenager but also because the community itself had transformed. There was a significant Iranian presence everywhere, and the focus had shifted heavily towards rules, especially those related to sex, drinking, and drug use. There was also a huge emphasis on financial contributions to the faith, and it was the first time I began to see a somewhat materialistic outlook within the community.
As a preteen and teenager, I engaged in activities like dropping off flyers in mailboxes and soliciting strangers to talk about this great new religion, all in the name of “teaching”. I joined the local choir and sang, inspired by a crush I had on a girl there. This was probably the golden time of the community, with the choir doing outreach and a balance between Western and Iranian believers.
However, things began to accelerate. The Ruhi Institute and teaching became significant focal points. I was encouraged to bring a good friend of mine to a Baha'i camp, and once there, I was pressured to ask him to convert. It was very uncomfortable.
This Reddit loves cringe stories, so here is a winner: I had a birthday party with my non-Baha'i friends, and two older Baha'i girls attended. One of the girls ended up stalking my friend, showing up at his workplace and calling him at home with sexually suggestive comments. The matter was escalated to the Local Spiritual Assembly, but instead of talking to me about it, they basically ended my friendship with this kid. To me, this somehow captures so much of what it was like to be a Baha'i child and how Baha'i adults treat children to this day.
When I turned 15, I signed up for Baha'i membership because it was the expected thing to do. However, by the time I was in my early 20s and studying at university, I had started to interact more with the local, real-world community. This might seem like a small thing, but it was actually quite significant. You see, my parents had always felt a little bit on the outside compared to the average person on the street around them. This sense of elitism was really exacerbated by being a Baha'i because Baha'is would walk around in a cloud of self-assurance, looking at us and thinking, "We don't do drugs. We've got all the answers and solutions, not like you." That was pretty much the attitude. It felt very socio-economic, with a lot of judgment towards working-class people. When the Iranians arrived, the cultural judgments grew even stronger.
But I was working in restaurants and learning about booze from bartenders. I had gotten to know real people. I had lost my virginity, and all that Bahai jazz seemed so much less relevant. I hardly even noticed when the year 2000 arrived without the predicted apocalypse, entry by troops, or any of the other anticipated events. Life went on. I lived in another country and met a girl, and we lived together.
Here is cringe story #2: my girlfriend /fiancé and I hosted a Bahai couple from my hometown. Despite being in my late 20s and engaged, and even though I hosted this gentleman in my house and helped him with his preparations for his business and presentations in the country where I lived, he reported to the Local Spiritual Assembly that I was living with a woman and we weren't married. It was absolutely amazing. The level of judgment still grosses me out.
I started to reflect on what the religion had meant to me and saw how it had changed. The obsession with fundraising was becoming ever more strident and panicked. The gaps in the actual scriptural logic of the religion were becoming more exacerbated as real-world problems still ran rife, and real-time discussions on social media brought these issues to light. It took me a while to start really digging into it, and it was only much later, when I started therapy, that I realized I needed to formally resign from the religion.
Looking back, it's astonishing how this religion, which professes to have such blind equality between the genders, as if other religions have some kind of hardwired sexism, actually had hardwired sexism in how the Universal House of Justice operates. A religion that taught the oneness of humanity, as if all humanity is equal and other religions don't recruit from anyone they can find, places divisors. Although of course, Bahai’s can’t recruit from Israeli Jews, so much for oneness of humanity. But this religion has taught that all humanity is equal, unless, of course, you're gay. Then you can't get married, let alone have sex.
There are other principles I haven't touched on, such as non-involvement in politics, unless it involves things happening to Baha'is or politics in Iran. The principle of independent investigation of the truth doesn't seem to work if you might investigate something that's not in line with the Baha'i perspective. The idea of a universal language? I don't really see any evidence that they're even really thinking about that one. The unity between science and religion? A religion that only allows men to sit on its senior board of a global theocracy probably isn't going to jive with a contemporary scientific perspective…. I mean, apparently you don't need a penis to be a man anymore, right?
In between these moments are my colorful memories of random things, like endless discussions about the boundaries of physical intimacy, people getting married at the age of 16 because they had exemptions for being Persian, and meeting Ms. Khanoom in Israel, feeling some sadness that the lone woman who at least brought some feminine energy to the World Centre is now gone, replaced by 12 boring men.
I've had conversations with my wife where I tried to explain what Baha'is actually do. She just wonders why they aren't doing stuff like normal religions do, like reading to the elderly or supporting schools for the disabled. I explain that's not the target demographic. I remember a wealthy man brought to firesides who obviously nobody else wanted to listen to, but we all sat around and applauded him like he was a great ukulele player and a clever man. He pointed out a hilariously Iranian man who was an alternative healer, and they got into a debate about modern medicine. The wealthy man said, "Well, you should see my daughter and what she studied. She studies Law." And then quickly changed the subject when asked about her name since I studied at the same Law school. Here's this man who's self-aware enough to join the adoration of his crowd but doesn't want his daughter mixed up in it in any way. Absolutely hilarious. Make that cringe story #3.
This reflection was sort of sparked when my wife and I discovered that the writings attributed to Rumi, which Baha'is often quote, is the same guy who started the Whirling Dervishes. We read about Rumi and I realized just how different he is from Baha'u'llah. Rumi wrote poetry, but he didn't pretend to be a prophet of God. He was just offering a different dynamic for how to interpret spirituality. He didn't say he was part of some sort of cycle. There's something beautiful about that simplicity. And needless to say, Rumi lived long before the Baha'is ever started.
It makes me wonder, will anyone ever watch the equivalent of a whirling dervish dance for the Baha'is?
The obsession with appearances sounds like a joke, but it isn't. It wasn't for me. Some bad stuff happened to me on my trip to Israel. When we got there, my parents didn't understand why I was so upset about everything. It was a culture shock, attending a government school, not speaking Hebrew, and being together with Russian kids who got beaten up in the toilet. It wasn't a very good time for me.
So, I was sent to counsel with a local Israeli counselor. After several sessions, she instructed that I had to sit down with my parents and tell them what I needed to tell them, particularly about the shadow that had come over me since coming to Israel. My parents were enraged when I said, “I wish we never became Bahai”.
And so, we returned from the Holy Land and moved to a tiny community that was struggling to get members. To this day, my parents are still members. I've resigned so I'm never dubbed a "covenant breaker." I'm pretty sure my parents know that I resigned because they literally never raise the topic of the Baha'i faith with me. I wish the religion had some interesting cosmology, something mystical, some interesting new take on the universe, or provided my family with tools to handle being migrants or raising teenagers. At the very least, it could have given us a common language we could have used to bond together. It did none of that.
But to be fair, if it wasn't the Baha'is, some other rinky-dink cult would have love-bombed my parents back in the 1980s. Of course, it would have been so much more fun if it had featured more sex and drugs 😊

Kadillac Kirk had been a good friend of mine for several years. I had met him through friends from The Spring Stage; and he never had anything to do with The Imp, which is why he didn’t appear in the Married Mary saga. Mary would have totally thrown herself at him, and Kirk would have definitely “thrown it in her.” He loved the ladies and often remarked that there was no such thing as an unappealing woman, nor was there anything sweeter than finding the pearl of passion in an outwardly plain dame. Fortunately for Kirk, he never met Mary. This was probably fortunate for Mary as well, seeing as Kirk was a confirmed bachelor and he would have probably broken her fat heart.
Kirk was an older guy. Not MOE old, though. He was in his early forties, but he easily passed for a carefree dude in his 30s... not that he lied about his age. I only mention this trait to juxtapose Kirk’s genuine youthful air with Moe’s unconvincing youthful farce. Kirk dressed normally, avoided stupid jargon, and never busted out gimmicks like tarot cards or spells. He just existed, behaved affably, and people liked him for it.
He drove a classic 1962 Cadillac El Dorado convertible with red leather interior, and he lived in a charmingly quaint (and ridiculously expensive) neighborhood. How he made his fortune remained a mystery, but he never bloviated about his wealth. He just threw spectacular parties and people showed up. And, to my knowledge, he never tried to lure women into bed with his money (although I’m sure he got his fair share of boom-boom thanks to his digs and his wheels, even if the gold-diggers denied their monetary agendas).
Kirk was legitimately handsome. He was a drummer, he had a full head of black hair, he was clean-shaven, he worked out, and he knew all the hidden gems in Wellsprings. So why hadn’t I tried... or even desired to date him? I don’t know. I just didn’t feel drawn to him like that. He felt like a cool uncle and he had, thus far, never done anything to change my perception. Plus, the age difference weirded me out a little. Kirk didn’t look forty; but knowing that he had so much more life experience than I did created a power imbalance that would have creeped me out if we’d been dating. As buddies, I just felt supremely cool riding in his Cadillac, smoking Fantasia cigarettes, and hitting the speakeasies and jazz clubs I would have never known about if it weren’t for Kirk’s connections.
And he had been a good person to talk to about my romantic woes. He never lecherously suggested that I should date him, and he gave the type of tempered advice that only comes with lived experience. But he often lightly mocked me for my crush on Dennis and he did a hilarious impression of Smegal popping too soon over his “precious.” So when Mary “got me back” by doing whatever she did with to Dennis, I called Kadillac Kirk and told him the drinks were on me if he’d be my designated driver for the night.
Why hadn’t I called Whisky??? Well, A) Kirk was way more fun to hang out with, at least from my past experiences up to that point. And B) I needed to bitch about a boy, something I couldn’t do in good conscience in front of a guy I was dating. So I put on the sexiest plunging halter dress I owned, applied heavy eye makeup and spikey accessories, braved a pair of stilettos, and sashayed out to Kirk’s convertible. I felt like a badass rock star. I probably looked like a try-hard hooker.
Kirk: Daaaaay-um! Somebody really did do a number on you, huh? I know you said you were upset, but the gents are gonna be writing thank you notes to that fat girl and that butt-fucking hobbit.
Me: I just need to feel pretty and numb. And I trust you to keep me from making a fool of myself.
Kirk squeezed my shoulder. “I’ve got you. You do whatever you need to do to get rid of these demons.”
He sparked up a J and offered me the first puff. I gladly accepted. He took one puff of his own, but said that the rest was mine since he didn’t want to drive stoned. See? He was responsible! Weed wasn’t legal in California yet, so I got a little bit baked before I stashed the sativa in the glove box and wrapped a scarf around my hair like a starlet from the Golden Age of Hollywood. Kirk sped out of the parking lot and said he was taking me to a downtown hotel that was hosting a party that night in their lush lobby.
Kadillac Kirk pulled up to the main entrance, paid the valet, and then opened my door. I was wobbly from the weed. And I had stupidly decided to wear heels. You can get high or you can wear high (heels). You can’t have both. Not if you’ve repeatedly injured both ankles (as I have). I had to take Kirk’s arm to keep from keeling over. “Can people tell I’m stoned?” I whispered. Kirk replied, “Nobody’s paying any attention to anyone else’s intoxication. I promise you that much.” I nodded, steadied myself, and strutted alongside my very cool friend, feeling a little more confident.
A live jazz orchestra was playing Cole Porter as we entered the lobby. Everything sparkled. The music was even more intoxicating than the spliff had been. “Just One of Those Things” brought tears to my eyes since the lyrics hit every raw nerve regarding the Dennis debacle. But I smiled. It might sound mental, but being distraught over a trash fire of a one-sided romance was exhilarating. Immature, for sure. But also exhilarating. You see, that kind of sadness doesn’t hurt. Not really. It stings. It leaves little bruises, but it’s very safe to wallow in because you haven’t actually lost anything. Melancholia over that which you never had is as sweet as it is bitter; and that type of twisted splendor is rivaled only by Stendhal.
“Here's hoping we meet now and then. It was great fun, but it was just one of those things.” I sang along with the band, and a fat tear rolled down past my melancholic smile and onto my chin. Kirk brushed it aside. “Too close to home?” I wiped away the remnants of the tear’s journey from eye to chin and smiled a more genuine smile. “The perfect distance from home. Shall we get drinks? Remember, I’m buying.”
Kirk: No, no. This is your time to heal. And I’m here as your pal, not your chauffeur. What would the lady like?”
I pretended to barf. Kirk knew I hated it when he got overly formal and overly attentive. So he did it just to mess with me. “Shot of vodka,” I replied.
Kirk: How many?
I thought briefly. “FIVE.”
Kirk: Five to one, baby. One in five...
Me: No one here gets out alive.
Kirk: Are you able to hold yourself upright, or should you come with?
I took a seat on an ornate, damask-upholstered chaise lounge. “I’ll be okay. And I was kidding about the five shots.”
I sat there lost in the music for a while. I thought very little about Dennis. Even less about Mary. And not at all about Whisky (whom I had shagged less than a week ago). My mind danced through the ornate lighting in the hotel lobby, and I suddenly felt the need to join the hoity-toity guests on the dancefloor!
Kirk returned with four shots of vodka. Two for him, two for me. That was quite reasonable of him. He knew damn well that I couldn’t handle five shots, but he also knew that I was in a... state. One that called for more than a single shot. I raised a both miniature glasses to “No more ninnyhammers or hairy-footed lovers.” Kirk did his hilarious Smegal impression, we double-toasted, and downed the shots. The band launched into “Let’s Misbehave,” and I kicked off my stilettos and made a beeline for the dance floor.
“There’s something wild about you child that’s so contagious. Let’s be outrageous! Let’s misbehave.” Kadillac Kirk swept me up, twirled me around, and dipped me as we both sang along with the lyrics. I wasn’t swooning for him, but I was enthralled by the moment. The music, the dancing, the combination of booze and bud... so I kissed him as he pulled me back to my feet. And he kissed back. In a way that Dennis never had. In a way that Whisky’s beard wouldn’t permit. I didn’t feel the visceral sensations that I’d felt when Dennis had kissed me, but it felt nice to feel desired. And then I noticed that other guests were watching us and applauding. Now, that was a dopamine rush if ever there was one!
I gently broke away from the embrace, high-fived Kirk and returned to the chaise lounge to put my stupid shoes back on. He followed me and smashed his face back onto mine. I pulled away and laughed. “It was a moment,” I told him. “I appreciate the dance, and that kiss was the perfect finale. But it’s not happening again.”
Kirk: Not to worry, Valerie. I know you. I knew all along that we were performing, and I was more than happy to be your scene partner.
Me: And dance partner! Those were some excellent moves! I didn’t know you had ballroom training.
Kirk: You name it, I’ve mastered it. Another drink for the lady?
I pretended to barf again. “Not yet. I’m not sad right now. Do you mind if I just sit here and enjoy the music?”
Kirk: Ah. My kisses do have healing properties...
I flipped my hand up at him. “Knock that shit off, bro. I wanted to hang out with you because I trust you not to get weird. Even if I get weird, I know you have the maturity to balance me out.”
Kirk: Are you calling me old???
Me: No. I’m calling you rational, responsible, and respectful.
Kirk: Well, now. If you can articulate an alliterative statement that fluently, then you clearly aren’t drunk enough!
I dismissed this comment as a joke. And he did indeed knock off the flirtation. We had a perfectly pleasant time chatting and dancing (no more kissing, though). And then I noticed a girl I knew from Into the Woods entering the lobby. She’d played Florinda and I’d played Little Red. I called her name and waved enthusiastically. She waved back. And then her date entered. It was D.E.N.N.I.S. I sank into the chaise. Kirk caught on immediately. “The hobbit???” he asked. I nodded silently. “You wanna make out again?” he enthused. I shook my head. I had to go say hello to Flo. And I had an idea...
I crossed the lobby, smiled, squealed, and hugged her.
Florinda: Lil’ Red! It’s been forever! So glad to see you!!! This is my friend, Denny.
Dennis was shifting uncomfortably. I extended my hand. “Nice to meet you. I know your date from Into the Woods. I bet she could tell you some entertaining stories about that show...” Flo laughed out loud, well aware of the many misadventures to which I'd referred. Of course, she might have been laughing because Dennis never, ever listened to anyone else's stories. He was too busy telling, re-telling, slightly altering, and exaggerating his own.
Dennis: C’mon, Val...
Me: Oh, you’ve heard of me? Small world! You guys picked a great night to come here. They’re playing Cole Porter, and the band is delovely!
Florinda (appearing oblivious to the iciness between me and Dennis): Have you seen Prince Big Bad (Scumbanger) lately?
I laughed. “Last time I saw him, he was hitting on some nasty fat chick at The Imp.”
Flo and I both scoffed at the pervy pest. Into the Woods was where I’d initially met Scumbanger. He played The Wolf/Cinderella’s Prince. Again... typecasting. There’s a whole essay in my brain about my first encounter with the pest, during which he quoted the song that he sang to me in the show, “Hello, Little Girl.” But it gets into some pretty uncomfortable territory because he made me feel excited. Well, excited and scared. Nothing of note happened during Into the Woods, but our odd interactions did kind of set the stage for some extremely regrettable events during that Cats cast party.
I excused myself, saying that I needed to get back to my friend. And then I leaned in and said in a hushed voice to Flo, “Watch your ass with that one. If he’s the Denny I’m thinking of...” I gave her a look that only another female would be able to read. Her eyebrows shot up and she nodded. Dennis continued to shift as though he were trying to hold in a massive dump. “BABE! Uh...”
Flo apparently answered to that moniker as well. “What is it, Denny? Don’t worry. That was just telepathic girl talk. You apparently have a reputation...”
Dennis: Different Denny. I assure you I’m a pious gentleman.
Me: Ah. My mistake. Well, then. You guys have a good time! Nice to meet you, Denny. Great to see you, Flo!
I hugged Flo again, gave Dennis a curt nod, ignored the scent of mandarins and mountain air, and returned to Kirk.
I collapsed on the chaise lounge, exhausted from holding back the rage. I had no right to be mad at Florinda. I hadn’t seen her in three years, so how was she supposed to know that I’d had a thing with Dennis? Hell, I couldn’t even be mad at Dennis because the last time he and I had spoken in any meaningful way, I’d told him that I was no longer entertaining my crush on him. So why was I surprised to see him dating??? And why had he never taken ME out on a date like this??? And why wasn’t I smitten with Kadillac Kirk who HAD taken me out on a date like this, was an objectively excellent kisser, and a bona fide BALLER? What was wrong with me???
Kirk suggested going down the street to a quaint little bar and then sobering up at a diner closer to my apartment. I numbly nodded and followed him in silence for a few blocks. He assured me that I had “turned several heads” on the way to the new location, but I neither cared nor believed him. This wasn't the type of numbness I'd been aiming for. Now I needed to get schnockered. “Five shots of vodka, please.” Yes, I was serious.
Kadillac Kirk, my reliable designated driver, ordered only a beer and watched in something across between astonishment, concern, and delight as I slammed all five shots in rapid succession. I half expected to immediately retch all over the bar. But I felt fine. I half expected to immediately lose consciousness and wake up in the hospital. But I remained coherent. How I’d managed to take in that much hard liquor and suffer no direct consequences, I’ll never know.
I think I wanted to suffer. I wanted to either feel nothing at all or to feel a sickness bad enough to distract me from the scorching sting that pulsed through my being when I realized that I had lost the abstract notion I’d been addicted to this entire time. Hope. It wasn’t Dennis himself I couldn’t quit. It was that drug called hope. The hope that maybe, just maybe Dennis would give our romance a fair chance. The hope that maybe, just maybe he would make peace with himself, get his mind out of his crotch, and enjoy some agenda-free togetherness. The hope that maybe, just maybe he would stop bloviating about his admittedly impressive accomplishments for five fucking minutes and ask about my life. I had my own reasonably impressive accomplishments, even if they paled in comparison to his. A proper suitor would have enjoyed hearing about them.
But seeing him out with another woman, a woman who had no reason to parade her Dennis escapades before me as some means of revenge, a woman he was clearly courting of his own volition... My hope had died. It died before I’d had time to wean myself off it. Now I had to mourn the loss of hope, which is a very tricky brand of grief to navigate. Vodka wasn’t the answer, but it was what I had to work with. So it would have to do.
After enough time had passed without vomiting or collapsing, I asked Kirk to bring his car around to the bar so that I didn’t have to walk two and a half blocks drunk and in heels. He nodded and dramatically leaned in for a kiss. I recoiled. “DUDE! I told you. The moment has passed.”
Kirk: I beg your pardon. I misread your eyes. Thought I saw a green light...
Me: It’s fine. I just want to go home while I’m still feeling okay.
Kirk: Of course. Your chariot will be here soon.
He skipped off to fetch his Cadillac and I noticed that the lights in the bar were beginning to dance a bit. This should have been concerning. But then I realized that I was giggling. Wait... What? Oh shit. Sure, I was drunk from those shots. But what I was feeling in that moment wasn’t drunkery. It was stonery. Kirk probably misread my face because my pupils were dilated. Not from desire, but from drug use.
Some of you might be thinking that I was a bad friend for not introducing Lucy, an old dude connoisseur, to Kirk. Well... I did. Several years before the events of this story. He adored her. She, on the other hand, thought he was immature. And she wasn’t wrong. Lucy was astute when it came to sussing out a person’s true nature. Far more astute than I. Her initial assessment that Kirk was immature is about to be vindicated. Stretch those cringe muscles! It’s almost time for pie...
I somehow managed to get to his car. I honestly don’t recall how I got there. Did one of the bartenders carry me? Did some kind patron allow me to lean on him? Had Kadillac Kirk carried me out? I’m not sure. But my memory ceases to be fuzzy about halfway to the 24-hour diner. It might have been the very same 24-hour diner where Mary pulled her... shenanigans. I’ll never know.
Kirk: Would you say that you’re more drunk or more stoned?
Me: STONED. Definitely stoned.
Kirk made some sort of grunty noise and reached for my thigh. I slapped his hand.
Kirk: Stoned but not amorous? That’s rare.
I started laughing rather unkindly. “You’re a fucking horndog! I thought you were my safe straight male friend, dammit.”
Kirk: I solemnly swear that your safety is my primary concern, my stoned beauty.
I pretended to throw up.
Kirk: So... You’re not horny. But are you hungry? The diner I’m heading to makes this Maple Walnut Pie with the most sumptuous... sensual cream and exquisite drizzling of...
Me: Ew! Stop trying to bang the pie. Bro. Are YOU stoned? (Then I remembered the question.) Yes, I’m hungry. But I don’t like nuts. I’ll have banana cream.
Kirk made that repulsive grunty noise again. “Uhhhhh... Mmmmmm. Cream. Yessssss. Yes, we’ll be there in just a minute.” He was squirming in the driver's seat.
Me: GROSS, DUDE! If you’re gonna be like that I’ll just order HASH brows. Get it? Hash??? (I giggled uncontrollably.). You can’t make that sound nasty.
Kirk: Forgive my jokes. I think my blood sugar’s a bit low.
As Kirk parked, I began to wonder how I might get away with walking shoeless into the diner. The stilettos had to get off my feet. At least while I was walking. And Kirk was kind enough to give me his socks and wear his loafers “island style” into the establishment. Okay, that was gallant of him. Maybe he was going to behave himself for the rest of the evening.
I wasn’t terribly talkative as we sat down, and he expressed concern for my emotional well-being. I wasn’t coherent enough to explain what was happening to my emotions and I wasn’t sure I trusted him with my deep, dark secrets at that point. So I shrugged like a sulky teenager, ran my hands over my messy, windblown hair, and mumbled that I was “just hungry.” And right on cue, a very kind, slightly older waitress with a sweet southern accent stopped by to take our order.
Kirk: Ah, yes. We’ll have two cups of black coffee. And we’ll share a slice of that delectable Maple Walnut Pie.
Waitress: Oh, honey. That pie is scrumptious! I take it you’ve been here before?
Kirk: I have. This will be her first time to taste the splendor.
I hated to be a killjoy, but I interrupted and said to the waitress, “Ma’am? I’m sure the Maple Walnut is excellent, but could I please get a slice of Banana Cream? And a big glass of ice water?
Waitress: Sure, hon! Banana Cream’s just as yummy! I’ll be right back with those coffees and that big water.
Kirk was sucking on the tip of his forefinger and shaking his head a bit. “You’re passing up so many sensational... sensual...”
I put my forehead on the table and growled. “You swore you’d stop being nasty!” I held this #headdesk pose for quite some time before I finally lifted my head... only to see that Kirk was still sucking his fingertip and staring at me like a wild animal. “Pleeeeeease be normal,” I whined. “It’s been a really weird night for me.”
Kirk: Indeed. Many surprises. You know... You’re like titanium. Your flame burns so fast and so bright, if a guy doesn’t get in there while the iron is hot, he’ll never get another chance. I was too slow.
What the...? I was pretty sure he was wrong about titanium burning quickly. I’m no chemistry wiz, but my dad and my oldest brother are both big-brains when it comes to physics and chemistry. So I picked up some things just listening to them talk. Accurate or inaccurate, Kirk was being creepy again. He’d never been creepy towards me before, although I’d seen him act like this with other women. Usually with staggering success. Why????? His money. It had to be his money. Kirk was a nice-looking man, but holy shit... No amount of good looks could save this creep show.
And then, our sweet waitress sat down our coffees, my water, and the two slices of pie. After I gulped down a whole bunch of water, I grabbed a fork, prepared to quell my munchies... and then I froze. Kirk was quickly flicking his finger back and forth across the top of his pie. And moaning. He noticed my wide-eyed stare, smirked, sucked the tip of his thumb, picked up the plate with both hands, and began flicking his tongue across the tip of the triangular pie slice. And moaning some more. Well, there went my appetite.
Kirk took his middle finger and jabbed it into the crustless vertex of the pie slice, then he began pumping it in and out like a piston, and flicking his thumb across the increasingly demolished top layer of whipped cream. He gasped this time. People were starting to stare. His pointer finger joined his middle finger in the piston action, and he replaced his thumb with his tongue. Between flicks of the tongue, he groaned, “Oh yeah, baby... Let me taste you,” but it was kind of hard to understand him.
And I was either about to run to the back office, tell them that I was in danger and needed a police escort home... OR I was about to burst out laughing at the spectacle. Kirk continued... He removed his fingers and gregariously licked pie filling off of them. And then he started sucking his fingertips again, switching from middle to pointer, middle to pointer and emitting a delighted little, “Mmmmmm” with every suck.
Finally, he jabbed his fingers back into the utterly destroyed pie, lowered his face into the mess and lapped loudly and passionately, moaning, grunting, and mumbling “Come on, baby. Come on. Mmmmmm. Come on.” I could see the waitress and some dude in a suit heading over to the table, so I sank down in my seat, partially covered my face, but continued to watch the train wreck. At last, Kirk shuddered violently, he splatted his entire hand onto the plate and rubbed furiously. And then he locked eyes with me. He sucked the tip of his thumb one final time and said, “You...” There was a long pause during which Kirk lovingly stroked the mess he’d made. “You... are the pie.”
I don’t hang out with Kadillac Kirk anymore. But he’s still a bachelor, ladies!

A few days ago, I posted here about how I was feeling resentful that my romantic interest wasn't being overly giving in return. What it came down to is ME having no boundaries and being over giving. Codependency is manipulation to make the other person think that everything they say and do is perfect. I think I did it because I wanted to win people over but it would always make me lose people because they can sniff when we are being unauthentic. (Shout out to Heidi Priebe for making me realise this in one of her recent videos).
I would make people think I loved everything about them physically and emotionally while deep down I often didn't like their hair, nails, how they dressed, ways they reacted to social situations. I made it impossible for people to leave me because I made them feel so good about themselves but underneath was this radioactive feeling they couldn't figure out. They knew it was impossible to be liked for some things. Supporting someone's insecurities isn't about making them love their flaws, it's about accepting them.
You need to call people out for when they say something wrong. Say it in a playful and teasing way. You also need to not show excessive interest in everything they say because it feels sooooo suffocating. I remember a friend did this to me once when I went on a short weekend holiday away - he asked me like 200 questions and I felt like telling him to fk off because his interest felt so fake.
I was feeling resentful that when I would share something, she wouldn't shower me with compliments and interest like I did for her. I wanted her to be fake and manipulative like I was because I thought that's what genuine interest looked like. Commentators here suggested we talk about it but then I realised that I never expect such things from a platonic relationship with friends. There are lots of ways that she takes lots of interest in me but I expected her to be co-dependant in return. I wanted her to obsessively remember every detail like I was. But now, I am at peace to just feel secure and match the energy.
MORAL of the story: do not sabotage things. Journal and take things slow in your mind so you are not reactionary.
MORAL 2: Do the work on yourself and you will attract the right things. It all comes from YOU.

Wade's visor beeped to life as his alarm system went off, the murder drone's clock showing the time, "8:00 AM", changing to his green-yellow eyes as he woke up. Tina's visor activated as well, the drone girl's own alarm activating she awakened from slumber with Wade.
Stifling a yawn, Wade looked to Tina as he rubbed her back, easing her as she rose upright. "Good morning, sweetie."
"Morning, Wade." Tina replied quietly as she looked to Wade, the two drones smiling warmly as they took in each other's presence. Noticing they were both almost completely bare of clothing, the two drones blushed as Wade began to move off the bed.
"Well, I should get something on." The former worker drone stated as they touched down on the floor, Tina grabbing her green shirt from the counter as she tried to get dressed as well.
"So should I." Tina said back as she put the shirt on, memories of their recent night together still fluent in her mind as she slowly walked over to the kitchen.
The last hours of the past night had been calm for the most part, Wade and his friends detailing their tragic capture, the loss of his brother Ron, the rescue of the drones, and finally, Tina and Wade's miraculous escape from the factory before returning to the base. After the chatter in the bar, the group split off to go their separate ways for the time being, Jasmine going with Wade and Tina to help them into her place before leaving them to watch it while she went to get some food for the next day. During their quiet stay in the apartment, Wade and Tina made small talk over what to do in the future before having what humans would call a... very pleasant night together.
And now, with the new day approaching, the drone couple had to get ready for whatever came ahead. Walking over to his clothes on one of the vacant chairs in the living room, Wade picked up his shirt, slapping it on him before glancing to Tina, who merely wore her copper brown pants and green shirt from yesterday. Smiling at his girlfriend, Wade spoke to her as he turned back around to continue redressing himself. "Seems Jasmine went out somewhere this morning. I don't see her anywhere."
Tina listened to Wade as she inspected the counter, noticing a small sticky note lying on it as she took hold of it. Tina could tell it was left by Jasmine, given the handwriting. The note said, "Morning you two! Went to get some food I forgot to pick up, I should be back shortly after you wake up. - Jasmine"
The pilot drone smiled as she read her sister's note, then turning to the living room to speak to Wade. "She went to get some breakfast, we should expect her to come back any minute now." Opening the fridge, Tina grabbed two cool cans of oil, one for herself and another for Wade. Setting the cans down on the counter, Tina closed the fridge before taking hold of the cans again, taking them with her to the living room where a fully dressed Wade now resided at.
As Tina took a seat next to Wade on the couch, the disassembly drone examined his built-in smartcomm, trying to add all the still active contacts he remembered off the top of his circuits as he spoke to Tina. "It's gonna be hard, being my own person without Ron." Chuckling, Wade smirked at Tina, finding himself unsure at his own words. "Or maybe I'm just overreacting."
Tina chortled at Wade's inconfidence as she tried to bring him some, handing him one of the oil beverages as she spoke. "I think you'll do fine, honey. I've run into some disrespectful humans in my life too."
Wade nodded in understanding as he took a sip of the oil, the sound of the front door opening catching the drones' attention as Jasmine walked in. Carrying a paper bag full of food items, the human pilot spoke aloud. "Morning, you two! Just had to finish an errand I screwed up last night."
"Oh, it's not a problem for us, Jass." Wade replied as he took a sip of his oil, Tina looking over to the kitchen wall as she listened to her sister.
"How was your night? You lovers passed out on me when I came in, so I just rested on the couch." The lover drones gave looks of apologetic concern as Jasmine walked back into the living room, the woman noticing Wade and Tina's faces as she continued speaking. "It's nothing, though. I slept well."
"I hope so, we didn't mean to take up the whole bed." Tina responded as she gave a blush of embarrassment, Wade nodding in agreement as Jasmine replied back.
"I did, really. Besides, you two deserved the bed after all you put up with yesterday. Gotta have some place to blow some steam."
Wade and Tina smiled at Jasmine's comment, then blushed as Wade questioned about her phrasing. "Wait, you mean that as a euphemism or...?"
A knock at the door shut up the discussion, Wade standing up as he offered to handle the visitors. "I'll get the door." Tina nodded as he walked over to the apartment entrance, checking the small peephole before opening the door. Looking down, he saw two beings: a human and drone soldier whom he assumed were from the Coalition given their specific body gear.
While he took notice of the militia duo, the drone soldier spoke up to him. "Good morning, we're looking for a..." He lifted up what appeared to be an ID card, Wade glancing at the object as he heard the drone continue his question. "...Wade Carter? We heard he resided here since last night." Looking to Wade again, the drone stopped himself upon finishing his sentence, then picking himself up as he spoke further. "Come to think of it, you look like him."
Wade smiled warmly as he spoke to the two guests. "That's right. You need something?"
"Eh, more like the other way around, actually." The drone soldier replied as he handed Wade the ID, the former worker drone taking it in his hands as he glanced over it. The ID showed him from when he was still a worker drone, but was thankfully untarnished from the factory as Wade held it tightly. Before he could speak, the human soldier handed him a pouch carrying what Wade presumed were a few more of his personal belongings. The drone soldier spoke once more as Wade took the pouch. "We found these while scavenging the storage bays at the factory, we've been heading around delivering them back to those they belong to."
Wade smiled brightly before finally speaking in a grateful tone. "Thanks, Sirs. If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know."
The two soldiers nodded as the human one replied. "Just doing our job, Mr. Carter. Have a pleasant morning." With that, the troopers departed the apartment complex, leaving Wade to himself as he shut the door.
Heading back inside, Tina and Jasmine looked to Wade as the former spoke to him. "Who was that?"
"Just some boys from the Coalition, and just like Nathan said, they finally found my ID!" Wade answered before showing the card off, Tina grinned happily as she saw it, Jasmine giving a simple smile as he spoke further. "Feels good to have it back, I think that was what was keeping me down a little yesterday."
"Well, at least you won't have to worry about that anymore." Tina replied as Wade put the card in his pocket, taking his seat again before setting the pouch at his legs. Taking notice of the pouch, Tina asked, "What's in that? Battery candy?"
Wade shook his head as he began pulling out the items inside the bag, speaking to Tina as he examined them. "Oh, no, looks like some more of my belongings." Once he was done, Wade put the pouch on the couch's cup holder, on the space behind the drink holders themselves. The items were other various cards and papers with various personal information of Wades written on them, along with Wade's wallet. Wade found it almost comical that the items were all separated from each other, rather than being inside the wallet after getting cleared out.
Tina seemed to agree with Wade's thoughts as he began reinserting the cards into his wallet. "Well, that's silly. They just put everything in that little pouch instead of putting it all back in that thing."
Wade chuckled as he put his ID into the frontal window pocket of the wallet. "Yeah, guess they had to clear every little part of it before sending it off." As he finished restocking his wallet, Wade glanced to the pouch before continuing. "Besides, that IS a nice pouch."
"It sure is." Tina replied before taking another sip of her oil can, Wade putting his wallet away as she spoke again. "On another subject, however, you think we should go see if Nathan's around? Him and Kurtis could come by and have some small talk."
Wade nodded as he started to speak, but stopped as Jasmine spoke first. "Actually, I ran into F earlier while at the market. I heard from her that Nathan was going to be joining her for a date later this afternoon." Glancing to Wade, she finished with, "So he might be already busy for the moment."
Taking his own oil can, Wade shrugged his arm as he replied. "Eh, no problem with that. Don't wanna kill a growing relationship, now do we?"
Tina chuckled lightly as she agreed with her boyfriend. "Indeed, if it were us, they'd probably do the same fo-"
The chatter stopped as another knock sounded at the door, Wade moving to get up again as he glanced to the ladies in confusion. "Another visitor?"
"You think it could be F?" Tina made a wild guess as Wade approached the door, glancing out the peephole in slight surprise before opening the door.
Wade felt as if their talk about the Ceres couple had been a form of summoning as he saw F and Nathan standing at the door, bearing strangely serious expressions as they were greeted by the former worker drone. "F! Nathan! Funny timing, we were just talking about you. Come on in, have a seat."
As the two walked past Wade, F pat him on the shoulder as she spoke to him. "As much as I'd like to visit Wade, I'm afraid we're not gonna be here long, nor are you and the Fowleys."
Wade raised an eyebrow at her reply as he followed Nathan and F, the two simply standing in front of Tina and Jasmine as Wade returned to the living room. "Oh?"
"We're leaving? Should we get dressed and pack our things ASAP?" Tina asked with mild concern as F replied to her.
"Yep, you're on the ball with getting ready, but we're... not exactly leaving." The disassembly drone's words brought a confused face from Tina as Nathan clarified his crush.
"We got a call from J, just as we were heading to one of the diners here." The two drones paused for a moment, glancing to each other as they almost spewed out about their date, but shook it off as Nathan continued with little hesitation. "She told us that Tessa had intercepted some kind of transmission, one that might help us clear up this situation with the company faster than we initially thought."
F gave an affirming nod on Nathan's explanation before adding to it. "Her and J are playing host to a meeting held by the general stationed here, and she wants us to attend." Glancing over Wade and the Fowley sisters, she finished the explanation with, "They especially want you two to come as well, given what you both went through."
Wade and Tina gave blushes of embarrassment at the news, honored by the invitation but also a little uncomfortable with their elevated status as they glanced to each other. After taking a moment to process what they heard, Wade broke the silence. "Well, I did make that promise at the factory, and to J and Tessa earlier... and I intend on acting on said promise." Looking to Tina, his girlfriend gave an agreeing nod as she stood up with him.
"Glad to hear it. We don't have to be in that much of a rush, though, the meeting doesn't start until 10." F stated, Wade and Tina both glancing at the clock to check the time before looking back to their murder drone friend with nods of acknowledgement.
Standing up from her chair, Jasmine stretched as she announced her goals to the room. "Well, in that case, I should hit the shower."
"Right, I'll get myself fixed up too." Tina replied as she looked to Wade, the two sharing warm smiles before heading to the kitchen. Noticing the still unstored items on the counter, Tina spoke aloud. "Jasmine? You mind if Wade and I help store the groceries in the cabinets here?"
"Sure, thanks!" Jasmine answered in a grateful tone as she went off to the bathroom in the back of the apartment, Tina glancing to Wade as she began to take some food out of the bag.
"I'll get the refrigerated stuff." Wade stated simply as he took some items out of the bag, Tina putting her chosen food stuffs into one of the cabinets as they worked to unload the fresh consumables from Jasmine's errand.

I’ve (30m) been dating this girl (30f) for roughly 5 months now, we came into a relationship right after she ended her previous 3.5y relationship (and engagement). I liked her a lot when I met her but we never meant to date. Throughout our conversations a lot of deficiencies in her strained relationship came to light, and she tried to fix it with him to no avail. They broke up around Christmas last year and we then formally commenced our relationship 3 weeks after her breakup.
I love her dearly (on 15 different levels) and we both knew that there would be some grieving to do on her end which I promised I’d support her for - that entailed her not cutting off her ex completely. They talk periodically, and I’m told it’s mostly innocuous (memes and such) and it helps her heal by doing the little things she did in her past relationship.
However, roughly three months in, I have been feeling uncomfortable about her interaction with her ex, and I brought it up to her. After some thinking she insists that her talking with her ex is a key part of her healing process and she should have the agency to decide how she wants to grieve. I told her there are many ways to grieve a past relationship without involving the ex, but she thinks it’s a trust issue on my end (which I don’t think is the case but it could be, given that I was cheated on in my past relationship).
She also recently started business school and last week, admitted to having a crush on her classmate. She says she enjoys the attention as it is not something she’s used to over the past years. I think she’s hot and it’s natural for other people to have crushes on her but part of me is also insecure. She feels validated when other men flirt respectfully with her, she said.
I am trying to get myself back on board with both these things, but I feel a sense of sadness I can’t understand why. How do you think I should respond/feel to this? I really want to build a strong foundation for this new relationship and make both people feel good in the process. If helpful, I’m South Asian and she’s white (from the Bay area) and we are currently long distance, with plans to move in together in 2-3 months.

I’ve (30m) been dating this girl (30f) for roughly 5 months now, we came into a relationship right after she ended her previous 3.5y relationship (and engagement). I liked her a lot when I met her but we never meant to date. Throughout our conversations a lot of deficiencies in her strained relationship came to light, and she tried to fix it with him to no avail. They broke up around Christmas last year and we then formally commenced our relationship 3 weeks after her breakup.
I love her dearly (on 15 different levels) and we both knew that there would be some grieving to do on her end which I promised I’d support her for - that entailed her not cutting off her ex completely. They talk periodically, and I’m told it’s mostly innocuous (memes and such) and it helps her heal by doing the little things she did in her past relationship.
However, roughly three months in, I have been feeling uncomfortable about her interaction with her ex, and I brought it up to her. After some thinking she insists that her talking with her ex is a key part of her healing process and she should have the agency to decide how she wants to grieve. I told her there are many ways to grieve a past relationship without involving the ex, but she thinks it’s a trust issue on my end (which I don’t think is the case but it could be, given that I was cheated on in my past relationship).
She also recently started business school and last week, admitted to having a crush on her classmate. She says she enjoys the attention as it is not something she’s used to over the past years. I think she’s hot and it’s natural for other people to have crushes on her but part of me is also insecure. She feels validated when other men flirt respectfully with her, she said.
I am trying to get myself back on board with both these things, but I feel a sense of sadness I can’t understand why. How do you think I should respond/feel to this? I really want to build a strong foundation for this new relationship and make both people feel good in the process. If helpful, I’m South Asian and she’s white (from the Bay area) and we are currently long distance, with plans to move in together in 2-3 months.

Let me get this out of the way: there are many teams who I hate more than the Vancouver Canucks. Sure, it was no fun losing to them in the Sedin era, but the twins themselves were decently likable. Except for Todd Bertuzzi, a legitimate piece of human filth, most of their franchise stars are, likewise, pretty likeable. Say what you well about Kesler, but it's hard to truly hate guys like Luongo, Naslund or Linden. Likewise, their team identity is simply cool: I genuinely like their color scheme, their logo, their jerseys, and the general vibe of Vancouver, housing/heroin crisis aside.
It’s a damn shame, then, that the seeds of greatness have been absolutely wasted on perhaps the worst fanbase in hockey. I’m not saying that Boston and Toronto aren’t insanely nauseating, but the Canucks fans are certainly up there. An entire season, we got to hear about how great the Canucks were, about how their team was totally not built upon sand and a high pdo, They plastered us in the regular season. They had six all-stars. Rick Tocchet was Scotty Bowman, but like, way better and balder. They brigaded the Oilers online spaces like few have ever done before. As much as Oilers fans talked a lot of shit, the Canucks kept it together in the regular season and rode that pdo to a division title. When the playoffs began, they capitalized upon one of the most single lucky performances I can ever remember to send the Predators home.
And then, the Canucks played a series against a good hockey team. My God, did the fans talk shit. The Canucks were a better team who would crush the Edmonton chokers. If you want to throw up in your mouth, look at any Canucks game thread: they had this shit in the bad. The Oilers had no defense, offense, or goaltending. And in the end, the Canucks did it. They went up 3-2. They won three whole games! The series went to seven! They came really, really close to forcing overtime! Some of the guys played with heart! They won the moral victory!
Oh, shit, that's right, they lost where it actually mattered, because that's what the Canucks do. They got their asses beat in '82. They got Messier'ed in '94. In '03, they blew a 3-1 lead to a worthless Wild team that scored one goal in the next round. In 2011... well, they took a team that was one of the best ever assembled on paper, almost choked against a husk-of-itself Blackhawks team, and then took that energy to Boston and blew a 2-0 and 3-2 lead, capped off by a 0-4 game seven. The next time you made it anywhere in the playoffs in 2020, you lost a 0-4 game seven. And now, here we are in 2024, and the Canucks have finally climbed the mountain and only lost 2-3 in the crunch.
Now, here come the buts. But Demko. But Boeser. But the refs. But the league. But actually, it was all fun and with no expectations, the second round was just icing on the top. But everything except taking responsibility and facing the truth: so long as they are tainted by the aura of the worst fanbase in hockey, the Canucks will never win shit. Going forward, this is the best roster the Canucks are going to get for years. Enjoy getting to play the "pay-or-let-walk/trade" game with Hronek, Lindholm, Zadorov, and Joshua, while also getting to replace your entire bottom six. This was your best chance, and you had two separate chances to at least make it to the WCF and make some memories. You blew it. Yeah, weird goalie injuries suck, and blood clots suck harder, but real contenders fight through those, or at least don't lay an egg in games six and seven bar a few flukey goals.
Petterson is legitmately bad when it matters. J.T. Miller had a crazy outlier year and is now really on the wrong side of 30. Ilya Mikheyev is a sack of bricks. Conor Garland sometimes looked scary, but then you look at his stats and remember he put up a grand 5 points in 13 playoff games. Hughes got outplayed by Bouchard when it truly mattered. Silovs wasn't good enough to steal the series. And it doesn't get any better from here!
We all know where this will go now: you guys will suck the Stars off and pretend that you would've have attacked them with just as much gusto had you won. You will make a bunch of pathetic posts about "GG Stars bros." We saw this with the Kings, a similarly pitiful fanbase, and we know how it goes. Maybe, just maybe, every team saying the Stars will curb stomp the Oilers will simply speak it into existence and hide the fact that your sorry-ass team can't even make it that far.
And for the record, Messier did you idiots a favor by exposing the rotten core of a soft team that couldn't win shit, and you’re too stupid to see it. Messier's presence on the team didn't force Garth Snow to be your starting goaltender, nor did it force Bure and Mogilny to never play defense. 90% of you morons couldn’t name a single thing about Wayne Maki. No Oilers fan has ever chanted "FUCK STEVE SMITH," because they have rings to cheer for instead of circlejerking their misery.
When will they learn? Even if the Canucks had won against the Oilers, had gone further, we all know that you would've just lost and rioted. Sadly, it’s not even like 2011 was the only time it happened. The Stanley Cup Victory Riot of 2___ (maybe 3___), which always be a hypothetical, will overshadow the Cup so much that when the junkies finally destroy the city for good or the prices cause literally everyone to move, assuming the Canuck fans don’t do destroy it themselves, people won’t even remember the riot was for a championship. You clowns can't handle losing, can't handle winning, and will never win a Cup.

So, what is the perfect dog ? It depends on you, right? What you look for in a dog. Some people want a friend, snugglebuddy and family pet. Some people want a beauty champion they can prance around the showring with. Some people want a fast racing dog, that can crush the competition, some people want a coursing dog that can hunt like a pro!
Well, I want it all! 🤣😅 First of all, I want a healthy dog. And then I also want a sweet and easygoing dog. Good temperament. Very important. Then I want a dog that can do well on the coursing field. And look good in the showring as well. I need a dog that is a "true" greyhound to its core. Not as extreme as some of the showdogs have become. Not super big, not too deep in the chest. But also not as extreme as some of the racers. So not as small, not as bulky. So how do I achieve this perfect combination? Do I find a somewhat pretty racer and buy sperms from it? And inseminate a showdog bitch that is not too extreme in its form?
Open for suggestions and critique here. I love greyhounds in all forms, shapes and sizes. I do not love the betting culture around racing. I love showdogs, but not the cutthroat competition or extreme breeding (inbreeding and such).
My goal is a great all-round dog, that can be for both beauty's and performance 🥰❤️ the highest achievement in my opinion is getting the title CIBP 🤭

I used to live in Australia and work in construction industry as Hebel installer, was making good money and managed to send it back here to parents and build a house but after a while my health has gotten so much worse and it turned out to be Chronic Pancreatitis and everything changed since then.
I was hospitalised way too often and ended up having medical debt of over 30lakh rupees over the years and never managed to put a dent in it as I keep getting more and more sick and couldn't keep a job because of it, parents made me come back here cause of worsening condition fearing I might die all alone in another country so I had no choice but to oblige.
Since then it's gotten so much worse as I have no means of making money whenever I feel better like I used to back in Australia and fell into severe depression cause of having to rely on someone and the weight of debts crushing me down.
Slowly, all the blame was put on me for the financial situation and I can't seem to get back on track cause of terrible physical and mental health weighing me down. Health wise it simply isn't getting any better even after visiting too many doctors here and the only thing that's going up is my medical debts so I gave up pursuing better treatment.
I really have no idea how I can get through this and no idea where to go to help for my situation. I tried crowd funding options we have here and got no positive reception from them.
We have nothing to sell other than this house we live in and there's already a mortgage on it to pay some of the outstanding debts.
If any of you can suggest me something I'd be more than glad to hear any options that can help me out.

I woke up to seagulls this morning, I really like the sound of them. I mean they don’t make pretty sounds, nor is it relaxing, but it feels like a comforting noise I guess? I think because I like being by the sea. I’m not sure. It was nice though. I love living by the sea, like I hear ship horns and seagulls and all of that. It makes me forever paranoid of tsunamis though. I think I’d like to live in a little seaside town with my honey, but I also don’t because then I couldn’t have the garden of my dreams nor would I have the countryside lifestyle I want. I don’t really know what I want. I don’t think I have enough money to be all that picky anyway.
I kind of woke up with that pit in my stomach feeling today. I don’t like how our calls were last night, either one of them. The first I felt like he didn’t want to talk to me and the second it was me being like that to him. I didn’t mean to make it come across that way, but I think he just caught me out when I was mid-deep sleep? I couldn’t wake up or focus and idk. Normally I’m fine to wake up though? And I love his night time calls, to know he’s thinking about me makes me feel so warm inside. It feels weird to think I ever cross his mind when we aren’t in an active conversation, I guess that comes back to the self esteem thing and feeling unworthy of being a thought in his mind, not feeling important enough, or something. But in that second call, I guess I didn’t like that he got me off the phone earlier because he was so sleepy, but then it turned out he was still up and about two hours later? It made me feel like he lied about being tired to get rid of me. I don’t think that was the case, but it’s how it made me feel in the moment. Anyway I woke up feeling uneasy, I felt okay but a little uneasy so I made sure to apologise. I think as well because I fell asleep feeling a little uneasy, it felt like he rushed me off the phone or like I was boring him to death or something. But it made me think about how it’s only 9pm where he is, and that he could quite easily have someone come over around that time. I don’t believe he would do that, but it scares me all the same. The way in which he could crush me into nothing is a little frightening sometimes, it really feels like I’ve just laid out my sad little heart out there for him to stomp all over if he so wishes to do so. I know if he did end things I would be okay, I think, but I can’t say I don’t worry about how it would affect my mental health and “recovery” - how far would it set me back? But also that’s not on him at all, and I’m never ever going to imply as such to him. He ought to make decisions based on what he wants and is best for him. Anyway it’s fine and we talked this morning and nothing has changed for him either, we both still want each other and this so it doesn’t even matter. I still feel bad about how I made him feel. I’m really glad, even though I made him feel bad which I wish I hadn’t, but sometimes it really helps to have him say he still wants this. I know his actions speak louder than words, but sometimes I need the words too. And so him saying “I’m still the same” was really reassuring and made me feel so lovey.
I’ve made a hair appointment, for end of June. I kind of wanted it early June as my hair is annoying the f out of me now, but her first available slot is end of June sooo I guess it still works out well. It gives me five weeks to continue growing out my layers so that we can start afresh. I’m going to get my face framies cut shorter this time as they grow out so quickly. I think otherwise I’ll get very subtle layering, enough to add some movement and help it air dry nicely, but I want the ends as thick as possible too. I’ll get a general root touch up to darken them up a little, and then a tonegloss for the lengths to cool down the warmth a little and darken it up ever so slightly. And then I’ve booked in for a full on olaplex treatment, so that will be nice. I am all about my hair health this year. I always have been but now even more so.
It’s so autumnal today. I really want to watch my favourite cosy romcoms, their autumn scenes are always my most absolute favourite. And winter I suppose. Basically Meg Ryan in autumn is my favourite thing and comforts me to no end.
I think I assume that if I know something then everyone else must know it too, so when they don’t I find it baffling that they don’t know. I guess because I consider myself thicker than a brick and everyone else smarter than I am, so I’d say in the team quiz no one knows the answer I start thinking how do you not know this, but that’s unfair of me and I’m making an assumption based on my low self esteem. But also I am as dumb as a rock so I mean there’s low self esteem and then there’s self awareness. But I just assume that if I know something, then it therefore must be as widely known as 2+2=4.
I’m wearing my Mon Guerlain perfume today, I quite like it, I guess I liked it a fair but considering I seem to have both a bottle of the edp and edt? I think this was during lockdown. Anyway I never wear it but I am today as it’s quite a warm scent, it’s like a warm vanilla but with a touch of lavender? Barely any lavender though, just a teeny tiny little bit. I just googled and that’s exactly what it is so yay me! Except it’s blatantly obvious so perhaps I’ll calm down on the self celebrations. Anyway it’s not one I’d replace but I do like it I suppose. It feels a little mature, not in an older woman way but in a mid-40s way. I read a comment and it said that it gives wife-and-adoring-mother with a wealthy husband, who’s just kissed her children goodnight before sweeping off in her furs to dinner and the opera. It’s classy and elegant, but with something warm and motherly to it and I get that too. Like the mama in Peter Pan! Anyway I’m a little ways off that stage of my life. But it’s a nice wfh scent I suppose. Most of my perfumes are just wfh/chill at home ones now. I wear perfume everyday, I’d say that’s silly but a) Andy tends to too and anything he does that I do makes me feel more assured it’s okay, b) I have a lottttt to get through and c) even if I didn’t have a lottttt to get through I still would because I just like to feel pretty. I may be as ugly as a troll but I will still be presentable enough. Not nicely, but perfume, groomed brows, glowy skin/skincare, my cutie lil diamond studs, brushed hair etc. Except I like a lived in look, I don’t like to look super prim and proper I prefer more bedheady hair and to look like I don’t care an awful lot, but in a nonchalant Kate Moss way not a get wrecked Adam Sandler way. Except I think Adam Sandler is the better of the two - I read he still has a regular-ish house? Then again it was the internet and I’m as gullible as… idk something gullible. That’s what I adore about Andy, he will do his own research and not believe anything outright, he’ll question it and all of that. Whereas I can just be like woowwwww crazy and then move on. There are many ways I’d like to be more like him, I don’t want to be like him but I just want to be better and he’s better so idk. He seems a little paranoid I’ll be like his ex who basically tried to become the tweedle dum to his tweedle dee, but I mean that’s never going to happen? I like to try things he likes, for example snacks and drinks and things. And if he says he enjoys using something and recommends it, ie his mouse, then I take his recommendations seriously. But I’m never going to dress or act like him, I mean I adore him but I don’t want to be a man…? I like being girly and different from him! But I just mean I like how he approaches things, I like how he handles disagreements or thinks about new information - they’re things I want to kind of learn from him. Not in a way where I’d ask because that makes it weirder. Idk. This whole thing is weird. I just admire him. Now I sound like some kinda single white female… which I am… oh god.
Todays been fine overall. I did something new workwise, getting into LOEs for H&S speeding stuff, I had a call with a manager about one of his direct reports this morning and he was like I mean is it that bad and I had to tell a 40 something grown man that it is indeed bad to speed 28km over the speed limit. For any reason. And in a branded vehicle at that. Anyway so then I had to do the letter which was fine but it’s such a confusing template so I suggested some alterations to the Head of and she said they were excellent and she would change the template letter to include my suggestions, so that made me feel good. I enjoy that part of my work, I think I like processes and policies and all of that stuff. Idk why someone with social anxiety thought it would be smart to get into PEOPLE advisory. But like I said, as thick as a brick.
I had such a fun chat with him this evening, he makes me all giggly and silly and I hate myself for saying that. The word giggle is so bleh. I mean it’s a cute word but it feels wrong to say for whatever reason. It’s like when people say “hehe” in texts or whatever, it makes me feel gross even though I don’t even mind it. I think in the right context from the right person it’s fine, but I’ve never experienced that so idk. Now I’m thinking of… something. Something we watched. And the subtitles had it as “heh heh” and I’m thinking sopranos. Anyway newsflash to no one: I love him a hellllllll of a lot.
I wish I didn’t have to go to the office tomorrow. It’s so annoying. I know it’s good for me and also my manager has outright asked me to, so I kind of have to regardless, but also I’ll just focus on the fact it’s good for me to be properly out of the house and stuff. And it has perks I guess, I can have sushi for lunch, peruse the bookshop nearby and I also don’t snack when I’m at the office, I take nuts with me but I don’t eat them because I get all anxy about if people can hear me chewing or if they think I’m some kind of insatiable ogre who can’t wait til lunch or dinner. But so I just have a few bits of sushi for lunch. Although I really want to try this Vietnamese place, they have a salad that looks so bloody good, but I’ve never been and it looks like the kind you line up for like subway and that sends a barrage of anxiety through me so maybe sometime in the future. But I also tend to get more done and idk. It’s good for me. I’ll just keep telling myself that while I hate life two days a week for the foreseeable. It’s not even that bad, it is bad anxiety wise - like yesterday I didn’t go to the bathroom for over an hour from when I needed to pee because of my anxiety, I also didn’t fill up my drink bottle or get another coffee at all for the whole day. So my anxiety is bad, but maybe over time it’ll get better, I’m sure it will, I just have to suck it up in the interim.
I think I’ll stop now because I have 10 mins exactly til 8 and I need to get entirely ready for bed and post this. I needed to blowdry my hair but I spent too long in the shower and now I don’t have time so oh well. Tbh I look like utter shite anyway lately so what’s a bad hair day to go with it? I’ll just put it up. I feel disgustingly ugly lately, I always do but especially lately. Okay now I have 8 minutes night night

Though I am new to limerence as a concept, I'm pretty confident that I'm prone to it to some extent. All my life I've crushed hard, but the situation I'm currently in is so much more severe than I've ever experienced. This post is here largely to vent but also I'd really love insights from this community, if anybody has the time to read all this. Apologies in advance for how long this is, but there's a TL;DR at the bottom if you wish.
Four years ago, LO and I were coworkers. I had a bit of a crush on her from the first time we met, but it wasn't much more than that until we started hanging out. It started out with drinks on her birthday, then turned into her coming over damn near once a week for dinner and a movie, just the two of us. We'd cuddle a little bit on the couch sometimes but that's as far as things ever went. At this point I was harboring pretty intense feelings for this girl. Because I was busy and because we were coworkers and I was afraid of things getting messy, we stayed in that holding pattern for a few months. Eventually, a situation arose where a mutual friend made it clear to me that they were interested in her, which lit the fire under my ass to finally actually ask her out. Turns out I was too late, however, and the two of them had already begun seeing each other. I was pretty beat up about it for a while but then the COVID-19 pandemic happened and kind of took my focus away from my romantic woes. We didn't speak with any kind of regularity for 4 years, with the last 2 being entirely NC.
Until two weeks ago, when she messages me out of the blue. She happened to be visiting my city and wanted to know if I'd like to get together and catch up. By the time my brain finished processing the thought that this was a bad idea, my thumbs had already said yes. We got together for dinner and drinks, then spent a few hours wandering around and catching up. We ended up back at the place where she was staying. We sat and talked for hours, slipping into the late hours of the night. We started a movie. I asked her if she'd like to sit closer to me. She said yes. One thing led to another, and we slept together for the first time. Later on, we lied in bed talking about what could have been all those years ago. A couple days later, I came back over, we cooked dinner together, and we did it all over again. Spending time with her like this felt incredible-- the same as it did years ago but this time actually being able to act on how I felt. I felt at peace in a way that I hadn't in a long time. She actually checked in on me often, making sure that I was okay when things got emotionally heavy. I am a big, tall, masculine presenting person. Partners don't really ever do that for me. Hell, she offered to be big spoon! I'm getting emotional as I sit here thinking about how perfect that night was.
The next morning, we had a conversation about the future. I said I didn't want to do long distance, but if she ever ends up living closer by, I think it could really work. She told me that she thinks it could potentially work too, but doesn't have the space for a relationship right now, let alone have plans to move away from where she lives (on the other side of the country) anytime soon. I nodded, gathered my things, we kissed goodbye, I shook her hand like an idiot, and then I left. Later that night I'd send a text message spilling my guts in a way that I avoided doing in person earlier, as I was trying to keep my cool. I thanked her for spending the time and providing me closure for the way things ended years ago. She responded with a paragraph in kind. And that was that. The next day, she left.
It's been two weeks and not a day has gone by that I haven't thought about her. Not an hour, probably! For the first handful of nights after, I dreamt about marrying her-- carrying her over the threshold of my home, the whole 9. We've texted back and forth a bit but I'm very busy with work and she's a space cadet. The other night, we spent 5 hours on the phone together. We made each other playlists. It feels like being a teenager in love again, and I'm almost 30. The fact remains, though, that we live 15 hours away from one another and she says she isn't looking for a relationship. My higher order brain tells me that I need to let this go, but it feels so insanely good to talk to her, listen to her playlist, think about her. I've been heartbroken before, both by exes and ones who got away, but this is different. I don't dream about people like this. I open up her Instagram sometimes just to stare at her photos longingly. I haven't felt right looking at porn since I saw her. If I thought it was possible for something real to exist between us right now, I'd jump on a flight to her city tomorrow. I've thought a lot about how we can stay in contact, maybe I can take a long weekend and visit, maybe I can ask her join me for a road trip in the fall and maybe we fall in love in some dusty motel in Oklahoma and just figure out what's next from there. I want her in my life so, so bad. I know that she feels something for me, though it's incredibly unlikely she has the bug as bad as I do. I don't think I could let this go right now if I tried.
TL;DR: An old unrequited love came knocking on my door after 4 years, we spent a couple of incredible nights together, its not quite unrequited anymore but a real relationship can't happen anytime soon if at all, but now I'm twitterpated so bad that it hurts. I don't know how much to beat myself up over this.

PLEASE READ BACKSTORY + DETAILS :)
I first fell in love when i was 19 (now 25). I had known the guy for a year through work and developed a crush on him but he had a girlfriend and obviously, we worked together. When we both left that company he basically confessed his feelings for me and broke up with his long-term girlfriend, we went on one date and it was instant infactuation. Anyway as im sure you can tell from that story alone, it ended up being a really toxic relationship, he was really possessive and insecure and i broke up with him two years later.
So, i fell hard and fast immediately with this guy and i always put that down to the fact i had known him for a year before and had a crush, the fact that i was 19 and the fact that it was a sort of love-bomby, dangerous beginning. However, i have friends who have met their other halves on dating apps and have had really similar experiences, they claim to have just “known” after 2 or 3 dates and were obsessed with their partners and head over heels, and these are people in really loving and happy relationships.
For me, i just don’t understand how you can fall in love with someone so quick that you’ve only really known for a matter of hours when you add it up. I’ve been on a lot of dates since my ex but not really clicked with anyone. I’m in a situation now where i’ve been on 3 dates with a guy i think i like. I came out of the first date unsure but after the second date i found i really got on with him and had a good time. I’m excited to see him again and see where it goes but im absolutely no where near falling in love yet, and can’t fathom how anyone could feel that so early on, but this makes it difficult for me because the only time i have experienced love was chaotic and really intense and im worried that if it doesn’t feel like that i won’t fall in love, it that makes any sense.
For those of you that met your partners online, how long did it take for you to fall in love? And does anyone have any experience of falling in love that was slow and peaceful rather than chaotic and kind of scary? I think im just looking for reassurance that just because i don’t already feel obsessed with this guy doesn’t mean it couldn’t turn into something great.

Hey there Reddit fam!
I'm on a mission to level up my life and smash my goals, but I've realized that having someone by my side can make all the difference. That's why I'm reaching out to you awesome folks to find an accountability partner who's ready to conquer goals together.
About me: I'm jatin, an worker by the day and entrepreneur by evening. I'm passionate about creating my own entrepreneurship venture , and I'm committed to taking consistent action to make them a reality.
What I'm looking for in an accountability partner:

• Someone who's also driven to achieve their goals.
• A great communicator who's willing to check in regularly.
• Someone who's supportive, honest, and reliable.
• A motivator who can keep me accountable and vice versa.
• Bonus points if you're into Business.

What you can expect from me:

• Regular check-ins to discuss progress and setbacks.
• Honest feedback and encouragement to keep pushing forward.
• A dedicated partner who's committed to helping you succeed too.
• Flexibility and understanding when life gets busy.
• A positive and uplifting vibe to keep us motivated.

Together, we can achieve so much more than we could alone. Whether your goals are related to fitness, career, personal development, or anything in between, let's team up and make magic happen!
If you're interested in becoming my accountability partner, drop a comment or shoot me a message. Let's crush our goals together and celebrate each other's successes along the way!
Looking forward to connecting with some awesome souls who are ready to thrive together.
Cheers

Heya! I've been really into pods recently and I'm searching for some bucket list species!
I currently keep A. maculatum 'zebra', P. dilatatus, and some P. scaber I collected (mostly wild type but I think I found a calico today!)
Currently I'm really interested in:

• A. klugii 'montenegro'
• P. expansus
• P. spatulatus
• A. vulgare 'magic potion' - Japanese line
• C. murina 'papaya'
• N. archangeli 'shiro utsuri'
• Cylisticus convexus 'Ukraine pied'
• Reductoniscus tuberculatus 'Borneo Alligator'
• Cristarmadillidium muricatum 'pineapple'
• Armadillo officinalis 'orange crush'

If you have any of these, or even just some fun colored/shaped chill dudes who don't mind being handled, I'd love to take a look! Gotta be able to ship them to Edmonton, AB.
(Bonus if I can also find orange springtails for a decent price! I'd love to have a little cheeto army! Or silveiridescent springtails. I've got white, pink, and a few globular.)

Required: 18+ obviously Active (give heads up if you’re gonna be inactive for a certain time) Seen the show and Season 1
Howdy! I’m a 22M and I’m currently looking for a partner to rp with me for this hellish rp! Iv got and OC and I can also do cannon characters. You can use an OC or just do cannons it doesn’t matter to me in anyway! We can discuss plot or let the story form itself and take it from there! And I don’t mind how literate you are, what works for you is good enough for me! So if you are interested, give me a shout! Keep in mind I do work but I will respond asap so I’m not ignoring you and I’m in Arizona time, just a heads up! But otherwise then that, if you are interested, give me a shout!
(P.S: My character is LGBTQ and has a crush on Cherri)

So wow this had to be one of the most epic battles cinematically I’ve ever had on the rim. I’m sure many of you have experienced it already but spoiler warning for this event.
The colony of Serna was going well. Three of us escaped from the shattered empire after being betrayed by our fourth while tortured to death for our identities. We found recluse in a cave and recruited, occasionally striking back at the empire for the cause.
Our numbers swelled, but there is something wrong with this dirt ball. Nearby allies that we’ve tended would call for help, and when we’d arrive, a strange flesh mass enveloped their colonies on more than one occasion, no survivors to tell their tale. Blood would fall from the sky without reason, throwing nearby colonists and animals into a frenzy, but then the darkness came.
Whispers about it came to Serna over the wire, an unnatural darkness that enshrouds an area until only direct light sources could save you from something slithering, lurking in the darkness. Even the shadow under your bed was vulnerable. Past me would scoff at this chatter, but we have felt the coming of something horrible, the unnerving ranting of those exploring the nearby ruins, the flesh walls, the bloody rain. No, we surrounded ourselves with light to the point that I questioned my own sanity. One ominous morning the sun never rose.
It wasn’t long after this observation that we heard clawing. Not just against the main blast door, but within our own walls. We pulled down a wall and our swordsmen were greeted with glowing yellow eyes, a body made of dark horror. While unsettling, nothing we couldn’t take care of, but the ear piercing clawing outside wouldn’t stop. We prepared to greet them with all the hospitality that the Serna chapter of the Damocles resistance could bring.
Opening the blast doors, we threw a flare into the inky blackness and watched in terror as sinew-like shadows seeped away from the red glow, staring at a distance. Nearby, a large, spiky rock had fallen. Between his brief ramblings of nonsense, our researcher screamed “Kill it! Kill the night bringer! The stone of foretold tragedy!” I’m no one to question the scholars, so we lit it up. This pissed off what seemed like the very air. Two sets of eyes, 5, 10, 20. A whirlwind of yellow descended upon us. 5 cascading hums began as our frontlines brought their shields online, the gunners chewing apart the block of spikes until it crumbled. A hope in the sky revealed the sun directly overhead, calling to us like a friend pulling our colony out of muck. But the darkness swallowed her again. Our sensors picked up two more of these stones further out.
A gathered resolve and determination to protect our 3 children and elderly bordered up inside subdued the immediate doom we felt in our hearts. We pushed outside our perimeter into the waters of black. Hopscotching flares until we reached the two stones conveniently next to each other. Hesitation set in, as each of us examined the long threads of flares back to the base, and the absolute anxiety-inducing darkness that we faced on almost every side. A primitive fear of the dark most of us have not felt since we were children. I gave the order and we began to eliminate the thorny stones.
Like stars in the sky, I could not count them all. The glints of yellow, we’ve upset the gods themselves. I commanded my small legion to hold fast, and stay as one, do not falter to your thoughts. Like the sacred timber wolf that we honour, we are strongest in a pack. Our minds now nearly working as one, the swordsmen prepared for the crush. There flares popped near our perimeter, the beasts shuttered as two incinerators began breathing dragon fire upon the shadows. They cook, and the smell uplifts our spirits. In every direction our tracer rounds can be seen, flicking into the dark and impacting. Monoswords tear, warhammers chew, and plasma swords sizzle. In the air, lit chemfuel flies overhead, the shouts of commands from the centre. The eyes still blitzing toward us. This beating heart of the colony, refusing to fall. Finally a crack is heard, accompanied by a shriek as if the ground itself was in pain. The last stone is turned to cinder and the late afternoon sky breaks through. The Sun, our ally this day, scorching the shadow beasts. We know not which deity helped us this hour, but certainly we owe them a debt.
Our wounds patched, the colony has returned back to normal. However, an ally asked us to take in a strange piece of cargo. When they dropped it off, they paid and didn’t say a word. It’s a corpse, but somehow it resembles me.

Dear P,
I know that it’s strange.
Me having a huge crush on you.
It’s devastating for my brain.
That I don’t even get a Hi.
I just want you to know that I have loved you with all my heart in the recent past
And now maybe it is time I get over you
Because it’s getting way too much for my heart to handle the soft rejection
Because I really don’t think this will ever work out
I feel it’s best for me to stay single
Because what’s the point of all this anyway
I’m so in love with you
But I feel it’s best for me to just get over you
6-7 years
It’s not a joke
I have waited for you
But I guess I couldn’t communicate well with you
All sorts of thoughts right
I got depressed in the middle too
I know you don’t like me the same way
And I’m trying to get over that
I listen to your favourite songs
And it hurts me more
Why am I doing this to me?
You make me feel so unloved
Because you don’t care, let’s just say that
And it is not your fault
Not at all
I mean you don’t even know
But it stings where it does
And I hate how you’re on my mind all the time
Just tell me how I can get you off my mind?
I tried so many things
I guess it’s time to completely get over you.
Because I simply can’t take it anymore
Getting over you, Your lover.