Things to say to your boyfriend
/r/ScenesFromAHat, where everything's made up and the points don't matter
2011.03.13 16:32 DrJulianBashir /r/ScenesFromAHat, where everything's made up and the points don't matter
Welcome to the official unofficial community for the game Scenes from a Hat, as played in the popular improv comedy show "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" Create hilarious scene responses to some recent prompts, or post new scenes and see what the community can deliver! Just make sure to create a scene with your response; Reddit has enough of that from AskReddit ! For a sample of how the game is played, check this video: https://youtu.be/aJQ75U4JGgM Also, make sure to check the rules. Bzzzzzzzzz!
2008.01.25 04:52 Ask Reddit...
AskReddit is the place to ask and answer thought-provoking questions.
2011.01.20 00:04 wawayanda /r/CordCutters - Say Goodbye to Your Cable TV Provider!
A place for those looking to get away from the traditional cable tv model, and move toward cheaper and legal options like over the air antenna, library collections, and streaming services.
2024.05.19 18:31 InBabylonTheyWept Human Secrets: Part 4
“Ready?” Ersatz asked. It was a politeness on his part. The timing window was very, very narrow, and he wasn’t going to wait for my permission to launch.
“To travel untethered across the dark depths of space?” I asked back.
“Don’t be a baby,” he said. And then he reached out and grabbed my arm.
I learned at the planning meeting how human teleportation works. There are, apparently, layers to the universe. Tiers ‘like a wedding cake.’ Momentum and position are carried between layers. Everything else, not so much.
In the layer I was at before, there was a spin station, with a floor to keep me in place. In the layer we moved to, there was nothing. Just endless eons of empty, starlit sky. No ship, no air, and no floor to press against.
It was like being cast out of a sling. The circular trajectory became straight. In theory, I knew that I was traveling at an incredible rate of speed. In practice, there was nothing I could judge my distance from, save the humans gathered around me.
“What if we miss?” I asked. I knew the answer, but I hoped, vainly, that they’d say something comforting.
Then we’ll die, came Pride’s response, twisted by the hiss of transistors. But at least the view will be beautiful.
We did not die.
One moment, we were sitting in the frozen void. Order gave the countdown - five, to zero - then Pride activated the crash pad and we jaunted back into the layer we started at.
A serene backdrop of stars was replaced with the roar of wind and a hall that stretched for what felt like miles. We must have cleared the entire length in seconds.
The sound was all I could experience at first, wrapped up in the crash pad as I was. Dull thuds against the pad indicated collisions. The roar of wind eventually muffled, giving way to new clues about the environment. Tinny music whistled from nearby speakers. Quiet groans could be heard, both inside and outside the pad. Pride’s voice was the first clear sound I heard, inside the cocoon of foam.
“Good God Viv, do you sharpen your elbows with a whetstone? How can anyone be so damn pointy?”
“Practice,” she said. Light trickled in as something cut the foam open. I turned towards it, expecting to see someone with a knife. Instead, I got a faceful of plastic as Order coughed the last of the bits of gnawed cushion up. He’d resorted to gnawing his way through almost immediately. I almost wondered if he started before we even jaunted.
He pushed himself through the gap first. He’d made the exit, so it was his right to leave before anyone else. I was nearest, so I followed behind. The halls of the spin station should have prepared me more for the realm of the burger clown, but I still found myself flabbergasted by how humans choose to dhttps://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1cqg49j/human_secrets_part_1/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3ecorate things.
Murals lined the full length of the halls, only slightly vandalized by the trail of destruction we left from our decel. There was a story to them, but only just. Scenes of a burglar and a purple oozing mutant, charmingly sharing burgers and fries, were interspersed with scenes of intense violence. There, a chicken-woman was eating nuggets. Just ahead, a man with white skin and red lips was taking a crown off a severed head. One wall showed a child eating fries covered in ketchup. Directly across from it, the Pale Man bit a severed finger, micking the child’s glee. The burglar dominated the dozen yards of wall beyond nightmare, having merry adventures stealing, eating, and redistributing burgers. It ended abruptly as the Pale Man returned, wearing his stolen crown, and sentenced him to ‘death by lingchi.’
The remaining set of halls were very graphic images of the clown being forced through a fry-cutter.
I turned around, mostly to see the story of the murals continue. I’d forgotten about the moaning outside the crash foam.
Scattered across the hall in piles of broken and shattered bone lay dull imitations of the Pale Man. His acolytes and priests. Bone white skin, blood red lips, and hatred were the only traits they shared. One crawled towards me, legs trailing uselessly behind it, lips opening and closing wordlessly. I’d probably have stared in horror until it actually got up to me, except that Order finally seemed to have regained his bearings.
I didn’t see him until he was already past me, flying through the air with all the grace of a bird of a prey. Humans had shorter arms than my people, but their legs were powerful. The arc of his fall ended with both feet slamming into the back of the crawler’s neck. Bone snapped and the horror finally, blessedly, went still.
Order looked at me, eyes blazing, and said aloud what the thing had been wording.
“I’m lovin’ it.”
I think I forgot to breathe until Ersatz and Pride both managed to squeeze their way out of the foam. Viv breached a new way through, courtesy of her pointy elbows, and together, we traveled into the unspeakable hell of the burger clown’s ship.
First/ Previous / Next
submitted by InBabylonTheyWept to HFY [link] [comments]
“To travel untethered across the dark depths of space?” I asked back.
“Don’t be a baby,” he said. And then he reached out and grabbed my arm.
I learned at the planning meeting how human teleportation works. There are, apparently, layers to the universe. Tiers ‘like a wedding cake.’ Momentum and position are carried between layers. Everything else, not so much.
In the layer I was at before, there was a spin station, with a floor to keep me in place. In the layer we moved to, there was nothing. Just endless eons of empty, starlit sky. No ship, no air, and no floor to press against.
It was like being cast out of a sling. The circular trajectory became straight. In theory, I knew that I was traveling at an incredible rate of speed. In practice, there was nothing I could judge my distance from, save the humans gathered around me.
“What if we miss?” I asked. I knew the answer, but I hoped, vainly, that they’d say something comforting.
Then we’ll die, came Pride’s response, twisted by the hiss of transistors. But at least the view will be beautiful.
We did not die.
One moment, we were sitting in the frozen void. Order gave the countdown - five, to zero - then Pride activated the crash pad and we jaunted back into the layer we started at.
A serene backdrop of stars was replaced with the roar of wind and a hall that stretched for what felt like miles. We must have cleared the entire length in seconds.
The sound was all I could experience at first, wrapped up in the crash pad as I was. Dull thuds against the pad indicated collisions. The roar of wind eventually muffled, giving way to new clues about the environment. Tinny music whistled from nearby speakers. Quiet groans could be heard, both inside and outside the pad. Pride’s voice was the first clear sound I heard, inside the cocoon of foam.
“Good God Viv, do you sharpen your elbows with a whetstone? How can anyone be so damn pointy?”
“Practice,” she said. Light trickled in as something cut the foam open. I turned towards it, expecting to see someone with a knife. Instead, I got a faceful of plastic as Order coughed the last of the bits of gnawed cushion up. He’d resorted to gnawing his way through almost immediately. I almost wondered if he started before we even jaunted.
He pushed himself through the gap first. He’d made the exit, so it was his right to leave before anyone else. I was nearest, so I followed behind. The halls of the spin station should have prepared me more for the realm of the burger clown, but I still found myself flabbergasted by how humans choose to dhttps://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1cqg49j/human_secrets_part_1/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3ecorate things.
Murals lined the full length of the halls, only slightly vandalized by the trail of destruction we left from our decel. There was a story to them, but only just. Scenes of a burglar and a purple oozing mutant, charmingly sharing burgers and fries, were interspersed with scenes of intense violence. There, a chicken-woman was eating nuggets. Just ahead, a man with white skin and red lips was taking a crown off a severed head. One wall showed a child eating fries covered in ketchup. Directly across from it, the Pale Man bit a severed finger, micking the child’s glee. The burglar dominated the dozen yards of wall beyond nightmare, having merry adventures stealing, eating, and redistributing burgers. It ended abruptly as the Pale Man returned, wearing his stolen crown, and sentenced him to ‘death by lingchi.’
The remaining set of halls were very graphic images of the clown being forced through a fry-cutter.
I turned around, mostly to see the story of the murals continue. I’d forgotten about the moaning outside the crash foam.
Scattered across the hall in piles of broken and shattered bone lay dull imitations of the Pale Man. His acolytes and priests. Bone white skin, blood red lips, and hatred were the only traits they shared. One crawled towards me, legs trailing uselessly behind it, lips opening and closing wordlessly. I’d probably have stared in horror until it actually got up to me, except that Order finally seemed to have regained his bearings.
I didn’t see him until he was already past me, flying through the air with all the grace of a bird of a prey. Humans had shorter arms than my people, but their legs were powerful. The arc of his fall ended with both feet slamming into the back of the crawler’s neck. Bone snapped and the horror finally, blessedly, went still.
Order looked at me, eyes blazing, and said aloud what the thing had been wording.
“I’m lovin’ it.”
I think I forgot to breathe until Ersatz and Pride both managed to squeeze their way out of the foam. Viv breached a new way through, courtesy of her pointy elbows, and together, we traveled into the unspeakable hell of the burger clown’s ship.
First/ Previous / Next
2024.05.19 18:31 PhillipGreenAuthor Looking for something to capture that old Everquest 2 Tutorial Island Feeling
Hey folks, I'm looking for a rather niche request.
Some people the old days of Everquest 2 (veterans of EQ1 can laugh at the use of "old days" here, but time marches ruthlessly onward, I'm afraid) will remember the starting area, Queen's Colony.
This was before a lot of the QOL and rebrands to make it similar to World of Warcraft, the game started like this:
After character creation, you found yourself on this island. Basic, calm, pretty. You'd answer a question: Were you a Fighter, Scout, Mage, or Priest?
You'd answer. And that was that.
No immediate prestige classes, no immediate class-thematic armor set. Just some robes, leathers, or modest armor. No secret powers, no other chosen-one progression systems.
You'd make your way to this tower at the center that had any relevant NPCs for buying and selling some things, learning how to become a woodcutter, or blacksmith, what have you.
Beyond the walled ring were fields dominated by goblins, and you'd make your way out in little excursions, by yourself or with whoever else was in the area, doing the similarly modest quests nearby, before returning to the safety of the walls to sell your things, maybe buy a new woodcutting axe, etc.
I was probably thirteen or fourteen years old.
I'd say a good 85% of the core of this memory is because, to a 13 year old who's parents are yelling in the other room, progressing your little life on Queen's Colony was an entirely new life.
But I do think a good 15% of that experience was the cumulative environment created by that starting area, and the feeling of all those details I mentioned.
I'm writing this post for a few reasons. One, does anyone else remember this? Is the (admittedly decent) venn diagram between progression fantasy fans and old EQ2 players large enough to snag anyone who knows what I'm talking about?
Second, I'm a writer myself, and want to hear about anything that evoked this feeling for you. That might be your version of EQ2, or your commisseration, your stories, what you like in a novel, etc.
Which leads me to my third point: I'd love any book recs to read that sound like a good fit for what I want. Not for professional writer reasons or anything, just to enjoy on a personal level.
Anyway, thanks for reading, thanks for the commiseration, or recommendations, or what have you.
submitted by PhillipGreenAuthor to ProgressionFantasy [link] [comments]
Some people the old days of Everquest 2 (veterans of EQ1 can laugh at the use of "old days" here, but time marches ruthlessly onward, I'm afraid) will remember the starting area, Queen's Colony.
This was before a lot of the QOL and rebrands to make it similar to World of Warcraft, the game started like this:
After character creation, you found yourself on this island. Basic, calm, pretty. You'd answer a question: Were you a Fighter, Scout, Mage, or Priest?
You'd answer. And that was that.
No immediate prestige classes, no immediate class-thematic armor set. Just some robes, leathers, or modest armor. No secret powers, no other chosen-one progression systems.
You'd make your way to this tower at the center that had any relevant NPCs for buying and selling some things, learning how to become a woodcutter, or blacksmith, what have you.
Beyond the walled ring were fields dominated by goblins, and you'd make your way out in little excursions, by yourself or with whoever else was in the area, doing the similarly modest quests nearby, before returning to the safety of the walls to sell your things, maybe buy a new woodcutting axe, etc.
I was probably thirteen or fourteen years old.
I'd say a good 85% of the core of this memory is because, to a 13 year old who's parents are yelling in the other room, progressing your little life on Queen's Colony was an entirely new life.
But I do think a good 15% of that experience was the cumulative environment created by that starting area, and the feeling of all those details I mentioned.
I'm writing this post for a few reasons. One, does anyone else remember this? Is the (admittedly decent) venn diagram between progression fantasy fans and old EQ2 players large enough to snag anyone who knows what I'm talking about?
Second, I'm a writer myself, and want to hear about anything that evoked this feeling for you. That might be your version of EQ2, or your commisseration, your stories, what you like in a novel, etc.
Which leads me to my third point: I'd love any book recs to read that sound like a good fit for what I want. Not for professional writer reasons or anything, just to enjoy on a personal level.
Anyway, thanks for reading, thanks for the commiseration, or recommendations, or what have you.
2024.05.19 18:31 Insidious407 33 [M4F] UK/Anywhere Looking for that connection still
As the post says 33 M from the UK near Nottingham, i'm somewhat of a workaholic but still think I have a good balance as I like to get out and about to try new things and see new places.
Prewarning that I can be a bit of a rambler at times though so expect that just as a heads up lol.
Bit of a nature lover so enjoy the odd hike and the rare occasional camping and looking at getting back into some of my old hobbies like windsurfing and kayaking.
Like to travel about and get to see new places having grown up as a forces kid am used to having a bit of structure but often take a go with the flow approach with things.
Love to listen to anything and everything, have some guilty pleasures that would probably throw a lot of people off as my goto genre is Rock/Metal/Punk but do go across all genres
I'll leave it at that for now so it gives us plenty to talk about still, if this has caught your eye feel free to drop a message my way :)
submitted by Insidious407 to R4R30Plus [link] [comments]
Prewarning that I can be a bit of a rambler at times though so expect that just as a heads up lol.
Bit of a nature lover so enjoy the odd hike and the rare occasional camping and looking at getting back into some of my old hobbies like windsurfing and kayaking.
Like to travel about and get to see new places having grown up as a forces kid am used to having a bit of structure but often take a go with the flow approach with things.
Love to listen to anything and everything, have some guilty pleasures that would probably throw a lot of people off as my goto genre is Rock/Metal/Punk but do go across all genres
I'll leave it at that for now so it gives us plenty to talk about still, if this has caught your eye feel free to drop a message my way :)
2024.05.19 18:30 modestmedusa I finally escaped and moved out one month ago. Here is the letter I wrote to my nmom on Mother’s Day that I’ll never send
TW for sexual, physical, medical, emotional, and religious abuse, childhood sa, suicidal ideation, and self harm
This past week has been incredibly difficult due to that holiday so I decided it would be good for me to write a letter to my nmom to keep for myself during my healing process to get everything out and it's been very cathartic. Part of my healing journey has been sharing my (extremely personal) experience with others who understand, hence why I'm sharing this here, and maybe it'll give someone some strength knowing that I made it out after all of this. I hope everyone was kind to themselves this week and was able to treat this holiday as a holiday for themselves for surviving their nmoms!
Dear mom, Happy belated Mother’s Day. My Mother’s Day was spent being upset and anxious so I decided to write this letter. This letter is so incredibly difficult to write and even more difficult to read back to myself. Moving away from university and back home during COVID was genuinely one of the most difficult things I have done in my life simply because of all of the repressed memories that flooded back into my brain every single day I was in that house. I used to resent the pandemic for forcing me to live in an environment that made me want to harm myself every single day and die every other day, but I am now thankful for the clarity that it brought me as I don’t think I’d have the foresight that I have now.
There is a lot that I want to say. I am angry, bitter, resentful, and traumatized from things that you have done to me as a child and also as an adult. I thought for a very long time that thing were normal but thank God I now know just how truly fucked up so many of my childhood experiences were. Not a single day goes by where I don’t think about the emotional, physical, and sexual abuse that I went through. I am haunted every single day by things that you did (and some things that you didn’t do) and hope that one day I will be able to heal from what I experienced.
I grew up being close to my cousin Chloe (a year younger than me) who was obviously very bitchy, mean, and abusive. This fact isn’t something you weren’t aware of as I know a fully grown adult would be able to see how she treated and talked to me when around you and come to the obvious conclusion that I should not have been allowed to be around her. She bullied me, called me names, physically assaulted me by pushing me, pulling my hair, and sitting on me with my hands held behind my back until I couldn’t breathe, forced me to bathe in scolding hot bath water that would burn my skin, making me undress and make fun of parts of my body, and forced me to watch things that she knew would scare me. This is the same time that I started having insomnia and struggled in school due to anxiety. It’s also the same time I remember my sound sensitivity starting. Do you remember my childhood friend’s mom Amelia and how protective she was over my friend, Diana? Diana met Chloe at my 9th birthday party and Diana went over to her house for a playdate and Chloe did something to her. She physically reached over and groped Diana on the privates. I knew Amelia IMMEDIATELY prevented her daughter from ever being around Chloe again. I also knew that it's possible she mentioned this to my aunt, but I'm not positive. I know that Amelia is the type of mom to prevent Diana from reading Harry Potter because she thought it was a bad influence on her due to being “demonic”, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she made you aware of what Chloe did to Diana as she knew that I spent a lot of time around her. I doubt that what Chloe did to Diana was ever kept a secret from you. Chloe also forced me to do sexual things I didn’t want to do from roughly the ages of 8-11. One time, we were in her kitchen and she pulled out a knife and said that she was going to stab me. By then, I knew she just wanted to scare me so when I had no reaction, she put the knife away. I was terrified of what would happen if I said no to her so I went along with whatever she wanted. She would go into the bathroom and tell me to follow, would lock the door, and make me take off my clothes and let her do things to me and forced me to do the same things to her. I used to think that you had NO IDEA about this until I remember you saying the words- “you were an amazing kid and never had any problems until you got a little older. I always wondered if something happened.” Who the fuck says that to their kid???? Yeah, something DID happen and it wouldn’t have happened if you protected me!!!! You fucking idiot!!!! I remember being in our new house and taking a shower with you when I was about 8 (which was VERY inappropriate and should NEVER have happened at all) and saying something that clearly made you uncomfortable. It CLEARLY indicated something was going on. I remember the exact face you made and know that any normal, healthy adult would have done something about it and made sure nothing was happening. They would have made sure I was SAFE, and talked to me about safety, but nothing was said or done. You have failed me many times, but this one is the most painful. Not only will you need to live with the fact that you knew about my abuse and did nothing, but I will have to live with the fact that my mom knew "something happened” and didn’t care about me enough to protect me. I look at my beautiful niece Hallie, and imagine not protecting her like that and want to vomit. I cannot fathom how a mother would have the thought “I wonder if something happened to my daughter to case a massive behavioral change” and NOT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT! You didn’t talk to me, never asked me if Chloe was doing anything, or anything at all. If I even had a minor suspicion that something was happening to Hallie, I would IMMEDIATELY do something about it because THAT IS MY JOB as an adult in her life. You failed me and deserve to know that this traumatized me and gave me PTSD. I am NOT autistic, no matter how much you WANT me to be so you can go around and gain sympathy for “having an autistic daughter” rather than owning up to the fact that you caused what “went wrong” with me.
Not only did you not help prevent me from being molested by my cousin, you also added to my sexual trauma by forcing me to use the giant egg monistat insert to treat a yeast infection when I was 11. I was ELEVEN and you had a bright idea to force a HUGE foreign object into my prepubescent body even though you were fully aware I could have easily gotten a prescription for a pill to swallow from a doctor. I was scared. I had so much pain and itching and needed a mother to hug me, tell me it’s going to be okay, or at the very least, EXPLAIN what I had and how we were going to fix it. You didn’t do any of that. You told me to lay down and proceeded to try and administer medication that is NOT meant for children 12 and under due to the physical damage it could cause. I was clearly in pain and scared, but you kept trying anyways. At any point, you could have stopped and taken me to the fucking doctor, but nope. You then got frustrated that “you couldn’t get it in” and told your 11 year old daughter to shove it inside herself. Then you left the room. I hadn’t even had a period yet, let alone know where my vagina was but you sure felt the need to yet again abandon your parental responsibilities and place them onto your kid! Miraculously, I put it in and wobbled out to lay on the couch because I was in physical pain from BOTH the infection and YOU, but because a child’s body isn’t able to properly fully insert the medication used (which once again I’ll remind you is meant for girls 13 and up), it came out and got on the couch because you didn’t give me a pad. And rather than prioritize your own daughter’s health, safety, wellbeing, and comfort, you were more upset about the stain on the couch and yelled at me. I will never forget in all of the years that I am alive how ashamed and disgusted I felt standing behind you watching you furiously scrub at the stain that I caused (actually, that YOU caused since this never should have happened in the first place!) and feeling a huge flood of guilt every time I saw that couch stain. One of the best days of my life was when we got a new couch and I never had to see that stain again.
All of this caused me to develop anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts and ideation, self harming behaviors, having out of body experiences where I dissociate, and panic attacks amongst other things. YOU caused ALL of this and you fought tooth and nail to convince me that it was MY fault for being broken. “There’s something going on with you,” and you made it your mission to never take any responsibility for any of the trauma that you caused. Not only did you ignore all signs of abuse and sexually assault me yourself, you bullied and helped a family friend Sharon bully me when I was “being mean” to (her daughter) Faith. I was treated like I was a mentally ill monster who couldn’t be trusted and always got in trouble whenever Faith shed a single tear because I was “mean to her”. Faith cried at LEAST 15x a day, and I was blamed every time she decided to say I was the reason. You allowed a monster (Sharon) to ABUSE me and had the incredibly wise idea to start passing along what shit talking you two would say about me TO ME, a 13 year old girl. I was THIRTEEN. I was A CHILD. And yet, you came crying and complaining to me about how tired you were of hearing Sharon say I was being mean to her daughter when you could have TOLD THE OTHER ADULT IN THE SITUATION TO STOP. It never was my responsibility as a child to try and make another adult stop abusing me by “behaving better.” There was nothing wrong with how I was behaving. You never once tried to help me, you always blamed anybody and everybody else for your failures. I would come and ask you for help when I was struggling and if you didn’t care, you would pawn it off to somebody else- “go talk to your older sister” “talk to your therapist about that” “I don’t know what to say except to tell you to pray about it” and when I came back saying praying didn’t magically fix my depression, you told me to pray harder. I guess you really thought it was a skill issue rather than a diagnosable health condition! No wonder I wanted to die! Hahaha! I’ll never forget the look of disgust on your face when I was sobbing hysterically and struggling to get out the words when I told you just how badly I was affected by Sharon and said how you played a role in helping her harm and abuse me. “WELL. I’m SORRY if you think I didn’t protect you enough. I know what that feels like because my parent’s took my sister’s side a few weeks ago when we were having an argument” (as FULLY GROWN 50+ YEAR OLDS arguing and bitching LIKE CHILDREN!) No, mom, it’s not the same. I was a child and not only did you not stop an abuser from harming me, you joined in. You allowed her access to me and you passed along what horrible things she said was wrong with me. “SHARON said she thinks YOU’RE BIPOLAR. Do you think you are?” “Sharon told me that you’re having AN EPISODE and are being mean to Faith! Show me your phone!” Erm? I’m thirteen? What do you expect me to do? “Well, I just don’t understand why you keep bringing this up when it happened so long ago. I just hope you can forgive her and move on.” You’re fucking disgusting. Should I go into detail about how many times I asked you to not interact with Sharon more than you needed to and you proceeded to try and force her into my life more? You KNEW how uncomfortable I was with you attending Faith’s wedding and yet, you cared more about how you looked and not only attended, but hosted both her wedding and wedding shower. I have always wondered why you never cared how I feel until I realized that you prioritize yourself and how you look to other people above anything and everyone. There is a clear pattern of behavior- - When I was 17 and you were berating me at your work for wanting to visit my friend up in Boston to see a concert together because “you just didn’t understand why I’d want to do that” and I started crying. You rolled your eyes and said “you better leave now if you don’t want my next client to see you crying because her appointment is in a few minutes.” You cared more about having your random client seeing me cry and potentially thinking you’re a bad mom than comforting me. - When I was 13 and we were saying our nightly prayer the night that I had my “therapy appointment” (aka, you and my “therapist” chastising me for writing in my diary that I was having suicidal thoughts), when you were praying you said “Dear God, please help (my name)… and… pLEASE HELP ME!!!!” Clearly, YOU were affected more than I was even though I was the one wanting to die because of you. Wow. Your life is so hard! - Telling everyone around you that I “have problems” and am “really struggling” so you can gain an ounce of sympathy. The way that your friends come up and talk to me is baffling. - Laughing about me with my friends in high school when I was out of the room- “hahaha my daughter is sooooo weird hahaha” - When I was 18 and you called my “therapist” (who did NOT get my consent before doing this and violated her ethical guidelines) after I moved out and stopped talking to you, you got her to help you write a list of “rules” to force me to stay in contact with you. They consisted of requiring me to “talk to you, dad, or my sister at least 1x/day” so you “knew that I was safe” aka, you wanted to control me even though I was an adult and not living in your house. I was perfectly safe, and yet you made me sound like I was doing drug deals in the morning, prostituting myself after lunch, and had plans to commit felonies later that night. I went to school, ate, and went back to my apartment. You had no right manipulating me into talking to you by using my therapist, dad, and sister against me. Pathetic. - Telling me to go do my runs on a strange man’s property instead of the road because it’s “safer.” Dad said that this man who I’VE NEVER MET told him that “there are bad people out there who will kidnap her and do horrible things to her, SO INSTEAD she should run on MY property!” Not sketchy or rapey at all, right? And completely dismissing me when I said that made me uncomfortable by saying “my dad knows him”? Lady, do you know any rape statistics? Clearly not, because you’d then know that only 7% of assaults are strangers while 93% are family members or acquaintances. NINETY THREE PERCENT. The amount of times that I’ve mentioned someone made me uncomfortable or had a massive affect on me as a child and you’ve replied with “Oh, well did they touch you?” People don’t have to touch me to traumatize me. You’re pathetic for thinking that.
I’m not mad at Chloe. I don’t feel any anger or ill will towards her at all. She was a child just like I was a child. She was failed more than I was failed. No child acts that way and assaults other children without learning that from somewhere. I blame her parents for what happened to her. I blame YOU for what happened to me. I vividly remember things that my aunt would say the same time this was happening about little girls and their bodies and I want to smash my head against the wall. Children are to be protected above anything and everything else, by you didn’t. Do I hate Faith and think that she’s a bad person because of what happened when we were 13? No. I fully blame you and Sharon. The amount of adults that have failed me in my life keep me up at night. I think about how different my life would be had dad been more involved and seen what was going on and taken me away from you. I am angry with him for that. I dream one day I will be able to sit down with him and tell him everything I have written about and he will hug me, support me, cry with me, and apologize for not being there more to protect me. But who knows, he might defend his child abusing, mentally ill wife and say I’m making up everything. Who knows.
Do you want to know what my sister said when I told her all of this? She apologized to me for not being 15 years older than I am so she could have raised me instead. I want you to sit here and think about how fucked up that is. My own sister wishes she could have taken me away from you so you couldn’t have abused me. I imagine the pressure she must have felt having to grow up while also raising her mother and sister and I sob for her. I’ve sobbed for me for the mental anguish and torture I experienced at your hands. I’ve even sobbed for you because I can’t imagine being even a fraction of how fucked up you are to resort to abusing and neglecting your child- a child you begged to have. A child you had trouble having and prayed for. Embarrassing.
I’m never going to have a relationship with you again. If God is willing, I will never have to interact with you ever again. Saying that phrase “if God is willing” is ironic because you forcing me to pray my problems away rather than helping me led me to not believe in him. How can I believe in something that also neglected me? I’d sit in my dark bedroom night after night praying and sobbing for him to help me. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I felt broken and alone. I now know that I was a child praying for God to take away my PTSD, and that is not possible. My heart breaks for that child.
You’re a pathetic excuse for a mother and human being. I’m truly shocked that I survived you and your abuse. I’m surprised that I didn’t ever try to kill myself to try and get away from you because you’re a vulture that prays on innocent people. The only important people in your life are people you think will give you something or will make you look good. That’s why you refused to ever cut ties with Sharon, you knew she was sexually abused as a child and you couldn’t POSSIBLY NOT be her friend because you need her to be your “friend,” or rather, your token sexually abused as a child friend. I genuinely hope that you get better and become a normal healthy person but I won’t ever be around to see it. I hope you feel even a fraction of the pain and abandonment that I have felt my entire life. Happy Mother’s Day, but today isn’t Mother’s Day for me, it’s Daughter’s Day. Moving far away from you one month ago has truly saved my life. Instead of trying to survive, I am enjoying my life. I would have died in that house. I get to finally celebrate being away from you and celebrate myself for staying strong and fighting when I could have easily given up. You once told me “you feel like I HATE you!” to guilt me into fawning over you and telling you how much I loved you, but now you get the opposite. I DO hate you and hate how you have permanently changed me and I wish to never see you again. Instead of praying for the “God forsaken, atheist, lost, evil, liar, miserable, spiteful, hateful, disgusting, mentally ill, “autistic” daughter, pray for yourself. Pray for God’s forgiveness for emotionally, medically, physically, sexually, and religiously abusing and neglecting me. You deserve to remain in your "clueless" state of "having NO IDEA what you did wrong to make her stop talking to me!" for the rest of your life.Happy Daughter’s Day.
submitted by modestmedusa to raisedbynarcissists [link] [comments]
This past week has been incredibly difficult due to that holiday so I decided it would be good for me to write a letter to my nmom to keep for myself during my healing process to get everything out and it's been very cathartic. Part of my healing journey has been sharing my (extremely personal) experience with others who understand, hence why I'm sharing this here, and maybe it'll give someone some strength knowing that I made it out after all of this. I hope everyone was kind to themselves this week and was able to treat this holiday as a holiday for themselves for surviving their nmoms!
Dear mom, Happy belated Mother’s Day. My Mother’s Day was spent being upset and anxious so I decided to write this letter. This letter is so incredibly difficult to write and even more difficult to read back to myself. Moving away from university and back home during COVID was genuinely one of the most difficult things I have done in my life simply because of all of the repressed memories that flooded back into my brain every single day I was in that house. I used to resent the pandemic for forcing me to live in an environment that made me want to harm myself every single day and die every other day, but I am now thankful for the clarity that it brought me as I don’t think I’d have the foresight that I have now.
There is a lot that I want to say. I am angry, bitter, resentful, and traumatized from things that you have done to me as a child and also as an adult. I thought for a very long time that thing were normal but thank God I now know just how truly fucked up so many of my childhood experiences were. Not a single day goes by where I don’t think about the emotional, physical, and sexual abuse that I went through. I am haunted every single day by things that you did (and some things that you didn’t do) and hope that one day I will be able to heal from what I experienced.
I grew up being close to my cousin Chloe (a year younger than me) who was obviously very bitchy, mean, and abusive. This fact isn’t something you weren’t aware of as I know a fully grown adult would be able to see how she treated and talked to me when around you and come to the obvious conclusion that I should not have been allowed to be around her. She bullied me, called me names, physically assaulted me by pushing me, pulling my hair, and sitting on me with my hands held behind my back until I couldn’t breathe, forced me to bathe in scolding hot bath water that would burn my skin, making me undress and make fun of parts of my body, and forced me to watch things that she knew would scare me. This is the same time that I started having insomnia and struggled in school due to anxiety. It’s also the same time I remember my sound sensitivity starting. Do you remember my childhood friend’s mom Amelia and how protective she was over my friend, Diana? Diana met Chloe at my 9th birthday party and Diana went over to her house for a playdate and Chloe did something to her. She physically reached over and groped Diana on the privates. I knew Amelia IMMEDIATELY prevented her daughter from ever being around Chloe again. I also knew that it's possible she mentioned this to my aunt, but I'm not positive. I know that Amelia is the type of mom to prevent Diana from reading Harry Potter because she thought it was a bad influence on her due to being “demonic”, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she made you aware of what Chloe did to Diana as she knew that I spent a lot of time around her. I doubt that what Chloe did to Diana was ever kept a secret from you. Chloe also forced me to do sexual things I didn’t want to do from roughly the ages of 8-11. One time, we were in her kitchen and she pulled out a knife and said that she was going to stab me. By then, I knew she just wanted to scare me so when I had no reaction, she put the knife away. I was terrified of what would happen if I said no to her so I went along with whatever she wanted. She would go into the bathroom and tell me to follow, would lock the door, and make me take off my clothes and let her do things to me and forced me to do the same things to her. I used to think that you had NO IDEA about this until I remember you saying the words- “you were an amazing kid and never had any problems until you got a little older. I always wondered if something happened.” Who the fuck says that to their kid???? Yeah, something DID happen and it wouldn’t have happened if you protected me!!!! You fucking idiot!!!! I remember being in our new house and taking a shower with you when I was about 8 (which was VERY inappropriate and should NEVER have happened at all) and saying something that clearly made you uncomfortable. It CLEARLY indicated something was going on. I remember the exact face you made and know that any normal, healthy adult would have done something about it and made sure nothing was happening. They would have made sure I was SAFE, and talked to me about safety, but nothing was said or done. You have failed me many times, but this one is the most painful. Not only will you need to live with the fact that you knew about my abuse and did nothing, but I will have to live with the fact that my mom knew "something happened” and didn’t care about me enough to protect me. I look at my beautiful niece Hallie, and imagine not protecting her like that and want to vomit. I cannot fathom how a mother would have the thought “I wonder if something happened to my daughter to case a massive behavioral change” and NOT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT! You didn’t talk to me, never asked me if Chloe was doing anything, or anything at all. If I even had a minor suspicion that something was happening to Hallie, I would IMMEDIATELY do something about it because THAT IS MY JOB as an adult in her life. You failed me and deserve to know that this traumatized me and gave me PTSD. I am NOT autistic, no matter how much you WANT me to be so you can go around and gain sympathy for “having an autistic daughter” rather than owning up to the fact that you caused what “went wrong” with me.
Not only did you not help prevent me from being molested by my cousin, you also added to my sexual trauma by forcing me to use the giant egg monistat insert to treat a yeast infection when I was 11. I was ELEVEN and you had a bright idea to force a HUGE foreign object into my prepubescent body even though you were fully aware I could have easily gotten a prescription for a pill to swallow from a doctor. I was scared. I had so much pain and itching and needed a mother to hug me, tell me it’s going to be okay, or at the very least, EXPLAIN what I had and how we were going to fix it. You didn’t do any of that. You told me to lay down and proceeded to try and administer medication that is NOT meant for children 12 and under due to the physical damage it could cause. I was clearly in pain and scared, but you kept trying anyways. At any point, you could have stopped and taken me to the fucking doctor, but nope. You then got frustrated that “you couldn’t get it in” and told your 11 year old daughter to shove it inside herself. Then you left the room. I hadn’t even had a period yet, let alone know where my vagina was but you sure felt the need to yet again abandon your parental responsibilities and place them onto your kid! Miraculously, I put it in and wobbled out to lay on the couch because I was in physical pain from BOTH the infection and YOU, but because a child’s body isn’t able to properly fully insert the medication used (which once again I’ll remind you is meant for girls 13 and up), it came out and got on the couch because you didn’t give me a pad. And rather than prioritize your own daughter’s health, safety, wellbeing, and comfort, you were more upset about the stain on the couch and yelled at me. I will never forget in all of the years that I am alive how ashamed and disgusted I felt standing behind you watching you furiously scrub at the stain that I caused (actually, that YOU caused since this never should have happened in the first place!) and feeling a huge flood of guilt every time I saw that couch stain. One of the best days of my life was when we got a new couch and I never had to see that stain again.
All of this caused me to develop anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts and ideation, self harming behaviors, having out of body experiences where I dissociate, and panic attacks amongst other things. YOU caused ALL of this and you fought tooth and nail to convince me that it was MY fault for being broken. “There’s something going on with you,” and you made it your mission to never take any responsibility for any of the trauma that you caused. Not only did you ignore all signs of abuse and sexually assault me yourself, you bullied and helped a family friend Sharon bully me when I was “being mean” to (her daughter) Faith. I was treated like I was a mentally ill monster who couldn’t be trusted and always got in trouble whenever Faith shed a single tear because I was “mean to her”. Faith cried at LEAST 15x a day, and I was blamed every time she decided to say I was the reason. You allowed a monster (Sharon) to ABUSE me and had the incredibly wise idea to start passing along what shit talking you two would say about me TO ME, a 13 year old girl. I was THIRTEEN. I was A CHILD. And yet, you came crying and complaining to me about how tired you were of hearing Sharon say I was being mean to her daughter when you could have TOLD THE OTHER ADULT IN THE SITUATION TO STOP. It never was my responsibility as a child to try and make another adult stop abusing me by “behaving better.” There was nothing wrong with how I was behaving. You never once tried to help me, you always blamed anybody and everybody else for your failures. I would come and ask you for help when I was struggling and if you didn’t care, you would pawn it off to somebody else- “go talk to your older sister” “talk to your therapist about that” “I don’t know what to say except to tell you to pray about it” and when I came back saying praying didn’t magically fix my depression, you told me to pray harder. I guess you really thought it was a skill issue rather than a diagnosable health condition! No wonder I wanted to die! Hahaha! I’ll never forget the look of disgust on your face when I was sobbing hysterically and struggling to get out the words when I told you just how badly I was affected by Sharon and said how you played a role in helping her harm and abuse me. “WELL. I’m SORRY if you think I didn’t protect you enough. I know what that feels like because my parent’s took my sister’s side a few weeks ago when we were having an argument” (as FULLY GROWN 50+ YEAR OLDS arguing and bitching LIKE CHILDREN!) No, mom, it’s not the same. I was a child and not only did you not stop an abuser from harming me, you joined in. You allowed her access to me and you passed along what horrible things she said was wrong with me. “SHARON said she thinks YOU’RE BIPOLAR. Do you think you are?” “Sharon told me that you’re having AN EPISODE and are being mean to Faith! Show me your phone!” Erm? I’m thirteen? What do you expect me to do? “Well, I just don’t understand why you keep bringing this up when it happened so long ago. I just hope you can forgive her and move on.” You’re fucking disgusting. Should I go into detail about how many times I asked you to not interact with Sharon more than you needed to and you proceeded to try and force her into my life more? You KNEW how uncomfortable I was with you attending Faith’s wedding and yet, you cared more about how you looked and not only attended, but hosted both her wedding and wedding shower. I have always wondered why you never cared how I feel until I realized that you prioritize yourself and how you look to other people above anything and everyone. There is a clear pattern of behavior- - When I was 17 and you were berating me at your work for wanting to visit my friend up in Boston to see a concert together because “you just didn’t understand why I’d want to do that” and I started crying. You rolled your eyes and said “you better leave now if you don’t want my next client to see you crying because her appointment is in a few minutes.” You cared more about having your random client seeing me cry and potentially thinking you’re a bad mom than comforting me. - When I was 13 and we were saying our nightly prayer the night that I had my “therapy appointment” (aka, you and my “therapist” chastising me for writing in my diary that I was having suicidal thoughts), when you were praying you said “Dear God, please help (my name)… and… pLEASE HELP ME!!!!” Clearly, YOU were affected more than I was even though I was the one wanting to die because of you. Wow. Your life is so hard! - Telling everyone around you that I “have problems” and am “really struggling” so you can gain an ounce of sympathy. The way that your friends come up and talk to me is baffling. - Laughing about me with my friends in high school when I was out of the room- “hahaha my daughter is sooooo weird hahaha” - When I was 18 and you called my “therapist” (who did NOT get my consent before doing this and violated her ethical guidelines) after I moved out and stopped talking to you, you got her to help you write a list of “rules” to force me to stay in contact with you. They consisted of requiring me to “talk to you, dad, or my sister at least 1x/day” so you “knew that I was safe” aka, you wanted to control me even though I was an adult and not living in your house. I was perfectly safe, and yet you made me sound like I was doing drug deals in the morning, prostituting myself after lunch, and had plans to commit felonies later that night. I went to school, ate, and went back to my apartment. You had no right manipulating me into talking to you by using my therapist, dad, and sister against me. Pathetic. - Telling me to go do my runs on a strange man’s property instead of the road because it’s “safer.” Dad said that this man who I’VE NEVER MET told him that “there are bad people out there who will kidnap her and do horrible things to her, SO INSTEAD she should run on MY property!” Not sketchy or rapey at all, right? And completely dismissing me when I said that made me uncomfortable by saying “my dad knows him”? Lady, do you know any rape statistics? Clearly not, because you’d then know that only 7% of assaults are strangers while 93% are family members or acquaintances. NINETY THREE PERCENT. The amount of times that I’ve mentioned someone made me uncomfortable or had a massive affect on me as a child and you’ve replied with “Oh, well did they touch you?” People don’t have to touch me to traumatize me. You’re pathetic for thinking that.
I’m not mad at Chloe. I don’t feel any anger or ill will towards her at all. She was a child just like I was a child. She was failed more than I was failed. No child acts that way and assaults other children without learning that from somewhere. I blame her parents for what happened to her. I blame YOU for what happened to me. I vividly remember things that my aunt would say the same time this was happening about little girls and their bodies and I want to smash my head against the wall. Children are to be protected above anything and everything else, by you didn’t. Do I hate Faith and think that she’s a bad person because of what happened when we were 13? No. I fully blame you and Sharon. The amount of adults that have failed me in my life keep me up at night. I think about how different my life would be had dad been more involved and seen what was going on and taken me away from you. I am angry with him for that. I dream one day I will be able to sit down with him and tell him everything I have written about and he will hug me, support me, cry with me, and apologize for not being there more to protect me. But who knows, he might defend his child abusing, mentally ill wife and say I’m making up everything. Who knows.
Do you want to know what my sister said when I told her all of this? She apologized to me for not being 15 years older than I am so she could have raised me instead. I want you to sit here and think about how fucked up that is. My own sister wishes she could have taken me away from you so you couldn’t have abused me. I imagine the pressure she must have felt having to grow up while also raising her mother and sister and I sob for her. I’ve sobbed for me for the mental anguish and torture I experienced at your hands. I’ve even sobbed for you because I can’t imagine being even a fraction of how fucked up you are to resort to abusing and neglecting your child- a child you begged to have. A child you had trouble having and prayed for. Embarrassing.
I’m never going to have a relationship with you again. If God is willing, I will never have to interact with you ever again. Saying that phrase “if God is willing” is ironic because you forcing me to pray my problems away rather than helping me led me to not believe in him. How can I believe in something that also neglected me? I’d sit in my dark bedroom night after night praying and sobbing for him to help me. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I felt broken and alone. I now know that I was a child praying for God to take away my PTSD, and that is not possible. My heart breaks for that child.
You’re a pathetic excuse for a mother and human being. I’m truly shocked that I survived you and your abuse. I’m surprised that I didn’t ever try to kill myself to try and get away from you because you’re a vulture that prays on innocent people. The only important people in your life are people you think will give you something or will make you look good. That’s why you refused to ever cut ties with Sharon, you knew she was sexually abused as a child and you couldn’t POSSIBLY NOT be her friend because you need her to be your “friend,” or rather, your token sexually abused as a child friend. I genuinely hope that you get better and become a normal healthy person but I won’t ever be around to see it. I hope you feel even a fraction of the pain and abandonment that I have felt my entire life. Happy Mother’s Day, but today isn’t Mother’s Day for me, it’s Daughter’s Day. Moving far away from you one month ago has truly saved my life. Instead of trying to survive, I am enjoying my life. I would have died in that house. I get to finally celebrate being away from you and celebrate myself for staying strong and fighting when I could have easily given up. You once told me “you feel like I HATE you!” to guilt me into fawning over you and telling you how much I loved you, but now you get the opposite. I DO hate you and hate how you have permanently changed me and I wish to never see you again. Instead of praying for the “God forsaken, atheist, lost, evil, liar, miserable, spiteful, hateful, disgusting, mentally ill, “autistic” daughter, pray for yourself. Pray for God’s forgiveness for emotionally, medically, physically, sexually, and religiously abusing and neglecting me. You deserve to remain in your "clueless" state of "having NO IDEA what you did wrong to make her stop talking to me!" for the rest of your life.Happy Daughter’s Day.
2024.05.19 18:29 OrangeNood Chizuru is showing very little jealousy compare to Kazuya
 | submitted by OrangeNood to KanojoOkarishimasu [link] [comments] |
2024.05.19 18:27 Extension_Bit4323 How do I deal with this situation at work?
A little about me. I'm 27 ♀️ and I'm super quiet and shy. I also have issues with standing up for myself, I just don't have the confidence.
I started a new job as an airplane cleaner three months ago and it's my first one since I joined a temp agency 4 years ago. So far it went well and I had no issues apart from being slower than everyone but that's fine I got quicker.
But then Jo (♀️) was asked by the manager who was making the teams if she wanted me so there was 6 instead of 5 and she was like "😒 I guess so." Her granddaughter also worked there and she asked who they have and she said the usual people and "Extension Bit cos no-one wants her." This made me sad for the rest of the night but I didn't let it show.
She kept telling me to speed up and/or kept telling me to clean the galley and toilets and was never on the seats. She hates me for some reason, I have no idea what it is. She told the manager she doesn't want me in her group.
Then Lynn (♀️) came off holiday and had me in her group and I was nice to her, same as I was nice to Jo, just casually chatting and I said hi at the start of shift and anything I found on the plane I gave to her if I didn't want it. I thought we were alright like neutral but then came yesterday when the manager was making the teams he put me with Lynn and she said in front of the whole staff room of about 10 people that she's not working with me because "I don't work" as I "don't take stuff (cleaning supplies, vacuum etc) out the van. If you put me with her I'm going home." This was like 4 hours into her 12hour shift (she starts at 6, I start at 8) so she'd really only get paid 3 hours just to not be with me.
The whole room went quiet and I felt everyone and the manager looking at me. I clammed up and didn't say anything but was like "what's her problem? It's not even cos I'm slow, it's cos of that?" I actually do take stuff out but if there's too many people around the van or there's nothing to take up then I don't bring anything but I bring rubbish down and the supplies back down.
I was also thinking "Great someone else hates me now." For like a stupid reason. She then said my friend Charlene said the same thing don't make me be the bad guy and she said she's staying out of it. When I asked her later she said she said it when I first started but then I started bringing stuff up and being faster. She's never said it recently.
Then today, I was heading to the toilet and it was the same time as Jo's husband Kevin left. As I was coming out the toilet he asked me if I was alright as I looked upset yesterday and I said yea then explained what happened yesterday. We were walking back to the staff room together then Jo and Lynn were coming down the corridor too and Jo took Kevin aside and asked what we were talking about.
I say in the staff room with Charlene and Lynn came in saying "don't you just hate when people talk behind your back? If you got something to say, say it to my face." and I was like thinking "you can talk, you were doing the same thing yesterday." and also that I ever said anything bad about her to Kevin I just said what happened, I didn't call her names or anything. And it's not "talking behind your back" when the whole fking staff room heard it.
But now the manager has left as it was his last day today and I'm worried about what the new managers gonna be like and if he'll let me be with either Charlene or Paul and Cheryl as they don't hate me (yet). I'm worried he's gonna put me with either Jo and/or Lynn and he won't give them a choice and since they already hate me they'll probably treat me like crap and expect me to my part of the plane in like 20 seconds or something.
It's honestly making me feel like asking the base manager if I can be moved to the other night shift or just quit and go back to the temp agency where I worked alone but was struggling to make enough money to pay bills and stuff. 😓
submitted by Extension_Bit4323 to jobs [link] [comments]
I started a new job as an airplane cleaner three months ago and it's my first one since I joined a temp agency 4 years ago. So far it went well and I had no issues apart from being slower than everyone but that's fine I got quicker.
But then Jo (♀️) was asked by the manager who was making the teams if she wanted me so there was 6 instead of 5 and she was like "😒 I guess so." Her granddaughter also worked there and she asked who they have and she said the usual people and "Extension Bit cos no-one wants her." This made me sad for the rest of the night but I didn't let it show.
She kept telling me to speed up and/or kept telling me to clean the galley and toilets and was never on the seats. She hates me for some reason, I have no idea what it is. She told the manager she doesn't want me in her group.
Then Lynn (♀️) came off holiday and had me in her group and I was nice to her, same as I was nice to Jo, just casually chatting and I said hi at the start of shift and anything I found on the plane I gave to her if I didn't want it. I thought we were alright like neutral but then came yesterday when the manager was making the teams he put me with Lynn and she said in front of the whole staff room of about 10 people that she's not working with me because "I don't work" as I "don't take stuff (cleaning supplies, vacuum etc) out the van. If you put me with her I'm going home." This was like 4 hours into her 12hour shift (she starts at 6, I start at 8) so she'd really only get paid 3 hours just to not be with me.
The whole room went quiet and I felt everyone and the manager looking at me. I clammed up and didn't say anything but was like "what's her problem? It's not even cos I'm slow, it's cos of that?" I actually do take stuff out but if there's too many people around the van or there's nothing to take up then I don't bring anything but I bring rubbish down and the supplies back down.
I was also thinking "Great someone else hates me now." For like a stupid reason. She then said my friend Charlene said the same thing don't make me be the bad guy and she said she's staying out of it. When I asked her later she said she said it when I first started but then I started bringing stuff up and being faster. She's never said it recently.
Then today, I was heading to the toilet and it was the same time as Jo's husband Kevin left. As I was coming out the toilet he asked me if I was alright as I looked upset yesterday and I said yea then explained what happened yesterday. We were walking back to the staff room together then Jo and Lynn were coming down the corridor too and Jo took Kevin aside and asked what we were talking about.
I say in the staff room with Charlene and Lynn came in saying "don't you just hate when people talk behind your back? If you got something to say, say it to my face." and I was like thinking "you can talk, you were doing the same thing yesterday." and also that I ever said anything bad about her to Kevin I just said what happened, I didn't call her names or anything. And it's not "talking behind your back" when the whole fking staff room heard it.
But now the manager has left as it was his last day today and I'm worried about what the new managers gonna be like and if he'll let me be with either Charlene or Paul and Cheryl as they don't hate me (yet). I'm worried he's gonna put me with either Jo and/or Lynn and he won't give them a choice and since they already hate me they'll probably treat me like crap and expect me to my part of the plane in like 20 seconds or something.
It's honestly making me feel like asking the base manager if I can be moved to the other night shift or just quit and go back to the temp agency where I worked alone but was struggling to make enough money to pay bills and stuff. 😓
2024.05.19 18:27 RepREVlEW Mad Paris Colette Rolex Milgauss from Jason
 | W2C
My thoughts:After seeing photos of this watch pop up on Jason's WhatsApp stories, I immediately asked him to send me one. Overall, the look and quality of the watch for its price is quite impressive imo. The movement works well and holds a charge for a good amount of time after winding it. The crown on the dial looks great and is raised. The dial also works very easily for winding the watch. The hands and numbers look pretty good. If I had one complaint, it's that the seconds hand and the numbers are a little thinner than the real one. The engravings on the clasps look clean and placed great. The clasp is easy to unclasp and lock in, I had no issues with that. Also, I have a large wrist, 23 cms is my preferred size when wearing things on it. This one fits a bit snug but had a tad more wiggle room than the No Date. So anyone with larger wrists, don't worry, this will definitely fit you. Let's be real, there's only like 5 of these total in the world, so if you're hopping out a Honda Civic working at Papa John's anyone who knows what these are will know what's up. If you like it, just ignore all the noise and rock what you like. Overall, I'm impressed with this watch at its price point, and I would definitely recommend it to anyone looking for a decent watch on a budget.Experience with SellerThis is my now my third time dealing with Jason, I contacted him on WhatsApp, and he was extremely helpful and has always had great customer service. QCs always come quick, and he ships very quickly after you GL it. Shipping he says could take 2-4 weeks, but I always get my packages in about 7-10 days. Overall, the experience was great, and I have no issues with the transaction. I definitely recommend Jason for anyone looking for a quality, affordable, simple watch! |
2024.05.19 18:25 RepREVlEW Mad Paris Colette Rolex Milgauss from Jason
 | W2C
My thoughts:After seeing photos of this watch pop up on Jason's WhatsApp stories, I immediately asked him to send me one. Overall, the look and quality of the watch for its price is quite impressive imo. The movement works well and holds a charge for a good amount of time after winding it. The crown on the dial looks great and is raised. The dial also works very easily for winding the watch. The hands and numbers look pretty good. If I had one complaint, it's that the seconds hand and the numbers are a little thinner than the real one. The engravings on the clasps look clean and placed great. The clasp is easy to unclasp and lock in, I had no issues with that. Also, I have a large wrist, 23 cms is my preferred size when wearing things on it. This one fits a bit snug but had a tad more wiggle room than the No Date. So anyone with larger wrists, don't worry, this will definitely fit you. Let's be real, there's only like 5 of these total in the world, so if you're hopping out a Honda Civic working at Papa John's anyone who knows what these are will know what's up. If you like it, just ignore all the noise and rock what you like. Overall, I'm impressed with this watch at its price point, and I would definitely recommend it to anyone looking for a decent watch on a budget.Experience with SellerThis is my now my third time dealing with Jason, I contacted him on WhatsApp, and he was extremely helpful and has always had great customer service. QCs always come quick, and he ships very quickly after you GL it. Shipping he says could take 2-4 weeks, but I always get my packages in about 7-10 days. Overall, the experience was great, and I have no issues with the transaction. I definitely recommend Jason for anyone looking for a quality, affordable, simple watch! |
2024.05.19 18:25 KlemensvnMetternich Mainline Shift
“These types of people always blame their mother, you know.”
Whenever I hear that incantation, the eerily exact combination of words, I always notice the inevitable short pause just after the final syllable.
When it is spoken by someone who isn’t an actual mother, a forty-year-old man perhaps, there’s a truculent tone to it because the person knows they’re not prima facie on trial. If you have ever read Notes from the Underground, you know what I mean; the narrator attempting to trick an omniscient and omnipresent audience. What they really mean is: “of course MY mother hasn’t given me any mental issues because what would that say about ME, hm?” Their subconscious is involuntarily pushing their response in a direction they might not decide to go in if they had a chance to think logically. Or, more, if we were capable of thinking logically.
You know when you have found where the infection is because the patient yelps when you press it. How often have you accidentally stumbled upon the rot in someone’s soul? How often have you said something innocuous to someone over thirty-five that was met with a strange sort of aggression? As though suddenly possessed to say something by an evil genie, the minotaur of Nietzsche’s Beyond Good & Evil. Something that, even if you are not trained to notice minor attitudinal changes, you still pick up on as out-of-place?
It is different when a mother says it, of course. There is a tenderness present because they know they are, prima facie, on trial. It is even more different when it is your own mother saying it, and it is exceptionally more different when it’s your own mother saying it during a discussion about her mother who is dying in the room opposite.
My Grandmother had suffered a mainline shift, which is when part of someone’s brain is pushed up against the side of their skull. Some thing made to move unnaturally and unaccordingly with their natural pattern. Matter incorrectly constituted.
Myself, my mother, and my cousin were, at the time, sat around in the Long Hours. We had a spate of deaths over the course of four years, so “in the Long Hours” became a family saying, along with “resting the eyeballs” (sleeping). The Long Hours were when you would sit in a hospital for hours on end waiting for someone to die. My family, still having some sway in local healthcare, were allowed to stay past visiting hours, and given preferential treatment when beds were being allocated.
My cousin, called P., and I were in a deep discussion on Eminem’s relationship with Eminem’s mother, which was the topic of conversation on the radio; nothing but the freshest of topics for this regional DJ. We were talking about whether Eminem should forgive his mother after all this time, since forgiving your mother is the done thing where we were from. So, me, my cousin, and my mother were in the Long Hours not thinking about the antiseptic smell, not thinking about our grandmother, my mother’s mother, who was still dying in the other room, and instead thinking about how much money you need before forgiving your mother is what’s expected of you. Because when you’ve “made it” you have nothing else to prove, which means you should be able to put aside old offences. This was the mental arithmetic we were trying to solve as we talked. If we take X to be childhood trauma and Y to be a million in cold hard cash, how many Y until X becomes 0? Or maybe that’s no longer complex mental arithmetic and is becoming basic trauma algebra.
Apropos of nothing, mum blurted out “well ~I~ think after a certain age you shouldn’t blame your parents for things anymore, why do these people always blame their mothers?”
Which stopped the conversation pretty quickly.
At the time I felt attacked, because at the time I thought most things were about me. I was narcissistic in the wonderful new modern way, where instead of thinking everybody believes me to be amazing, I pathologized everyone watching and commenting on every minor mistake I had. Was my theory that the reason I had a secret social anxiety, that my mother had somehow downloaded her own anxieties onto me, revealed to the omnipresent audience? Did I wear it on my face? Was it obvious to the world?
At the time I hadn’t realised everything that was wrong with my mother, something that would later metastasize into a full-blown depression, or that what she was actually talking about was her own issues with her own parents. (See? What you were thinking before was right; everyone just needs to realise nobody is ever actually thinking of anyone but themselves.)
My grandparents always favoured her sister, P.’s mother, and my mother always resented them for that. This was the involuntary movement from my mother.
Whenever these types of shibboleths pop up – “they/these people always blame their mother” – it always feels like a borrowed phrase. Like the subject is struggling through a sub-language in a primordial plane, grasping at passing notions, anything that seems familiar. What my mother said was “why do these people always blame their mothers”, but what she meant was “please be aware that I have no hangups about my own upbringing because I’m well adjusted”, which really means “I’m terrified I’m not well adjusted because my parents didn’t love me” whose real genesis is “I’m terrified I did something to not deserve my parents love”, which has the half-caveat “and I half-believe it’s true”.
I still find it hard to forgive my mother.
But I heard the spell incanted this last week by a distant relative I have been staying with in New England. Her son had been, involuntarily, admitted to a psychiatric hospital. She was holding court about how awful the other people-who-were-there (‘patients’ being forbidden a noun) were, after a rather-too-loud argument about how she encourages co-dependency with her son. She said, “they always seem to blame their mother, these types.” Same pause at the end. Did you spot the shift? These types in this context are her son and their mother was her this time. The plea is that her son is not one of these types, thus absolving her from blame for her son’s condition.
It is a lot easier to be kinder, to see the whole beauty of the love of a mother afraid she has failed, when it’s not your mother. When it isn’t You she has maybe failed. I’m certainly not immune from these little language tricks we play on ourselves. Notice how I cushioned that last sentence with a “maybe”? I also originally typed, then corrected, that my grandmother was ON the hospital room, which was my own subconscious trying to will hospitals into being a liminal space. You ride a hospital bed the same way you ride a bus, because they’re both somewhere you go on the way to something. Because good God, imagine if this was it and you spent your entire time worrying what your mother thought of you?
submitted by KlemensvnMetternich to RSwritingclub [link] [comments]
Whenever I hear that incantation, the eerily exact combination of words, I always notice the inevitable short pause just after the final syllable.
When it is spoken by someone who isn’t an actual mother, a forty-year-old man perhaps, there’s a truculent tone to it because the person knows they’re not prima facie on trial. If you have ever read Notes from the Underground, you know what I mean; the narrator attempting to trick an omniscient and omnipresent audience. What they really mean is: “of course MY mother hasn’t given me any mental issues because what would that say about ME, hm?” Their subconscious is involuntarily pushing their response in a direction they might not decide to go in if they had a chance to think logically. Or, more, if we were capable of thinking logically.
You know when you have found where the infection is because the patient yelps when you press it. How often have you accidentally stumbled upon the rot in someone’s soul? How often have you said something innocuous to someone over thirty-five that was met with a strange sort of aggression? As though suddenly possessed to say something by an evil genie, the minotaur of Nietzsche’s Beyond Good & Evil. Something that, even if you are not trained to notice minor attitudinal changes, you still pick up on as out-of-place?
It is different when a mother says it, of course. There is a tenderness present because they know they are, prima facie, on trial. It is even more different when it is your own mother saying it, and it is exceptionally more different when it’s your own mother saying it during a discussion about her mother who is dying in the room opposite.
My Grandmother had suffered a mainline shift, which is when part of someone’s brain is pushed up against the side of their skull. Some thing made to move unnaturally and unaccordingly with their natural pattern. Matter incorrectly constituted.
Myself, my mother, and my cousin were, at the time, sat around in the Long Hours. We had a spate of deaths over the course of four years, so “in the Long Hours” became a family saying, along with “resting the eyeballs” (sleeping). The Long Hours were when you would sit in a hospital for hours on end waiting for someone to die. My family, still having some sway in local healthcare, were allowed to stay past visiting hours, and given preferential treatment when beds were being allocated.
My cousin, called P., and I were in a deep discussion on Eminem’s relationship with Eminem’s mother, which was the topic of conversation on the radio; nothing but the freshest of topics for this regional DJ. We were talking about whether Eminem should forgive his mother after all this time, since forgiving your mother is the done thing where we were from. So, me, my cousin, and my mother were in the Long Hours not thinking about the antiseptic smell, not thinking about our grandmother, my mother’s mother, who was still dying in the other room, and instead thinking about how much money you need before forgiving your mother is what’s expected of you. Because when you’ve “made it” you have nothing else to prove, which means you should be able to put aside old offences. This was the mental arithmetic we were trying to solve as we talked. If we take X to be childhood trauma and Y to be a million in cold hard cash, how many Y until X becomes 0? Or maybe that’s no longer complex mental arithmetic and is becoming basic trauma algebra.
Apropos of nothing, mum blurted out “well ~I~ think after a certain age you shouldn’t blame your parents for things anymore, why do these people always blame their mothers?”
Which stopped the conversation pretty quickly.
At the time I felt attacked, because at the time I thought most things were about me. I was narcissistic in the wonderful new modern way, where instead of thinking everybody believes me to be amazing, I pathologized everyone watching and commenting on every minor mistake I had. Was my theory that the reason I had a secret social anxiety, that my mother had somehow downloaded her own anxieties onto me, revealed to the omnipresent audience? Did I wear it on my face? Was it obvious to the world?
At the time I hadn’t realised everything that was wrong with my mother, something that would later metastasize into a full-blown depression, or that what she was actually talking about was her own issues with her own parents. (See? What you were thinking before was right; everyone just needs to realise nobody is ever actually thinking of anyone but themselves.)
My grandparents always favoured her sister, P.’s mother, and my mother always resented them for that. This was the involuntary movement from my mother.
Whenever these types of shibboleths pop up – “they/these people always blame their mother” – it always feels like a borrowed phrase. Like the subject is struggling through a sub-language in a primordial plane, grasping at passing notions, anything that seems familiar. What my mother said was “why do these people always blame their mothers”, but what she meant was “please be aware that I have no hangups about my own upbringing because I’m well adjusted”, which really means “I’m terrified I’m not well adjusted because my parents didn’t love me” whose real genesis is “I’m terrified I did something to not deserve my parents love”, which has the half-caveat “and I half-believe it’s true”.
I still find it hard to forgive my mother.
But I heard the spell incanted this last week by a distant relative I have been staying with in New England. Her son had been, involuntarily, admitted to a psychiatric hospital. She was holding court about how awful the other people-who-were-there (‘patients’ being forbidden a noun) were, after a rather-too-loud argument about how she encourages co-dependency with her son. She said, “they always seem to blame their mother, these types.” Same pause at the end. Did you spot the shift? These types in this context are her son and their mother was her this time. The plea is that her son is not one of these types, thus absolving her from blame for her son’s condition.
It is a lot easier to be kinder, to see the whole beauty of the love of a mother afraid she has failed, when it’s not your mother. When it isn’t You she has maybe failed. I’m certainly not immune from these little language tricks we play on ourselves. Notice how I cushioned that last sentence with a “maybe”? I also originally typed, then corrected, that my grandmother was ON the hospital room, which was my own subconscious trying to will hospitals into being a liminal space. You ride a hospital bed the same way you ride a bus, because they’re both somewhere you go on the way to something. Because good God, imagine if this was it and you spent your entire time worrying what your mother thought of you?
2024.05.19 18:25 Temporary_Rutabaga32 Ohioan arguments
Ohio subreddit
submitted by Temporary_Rutabaga32 to georgism [link] [comments]
2024.05.19 18:24 Front-Cod8003 AITA for walking out of the house after what my gf did?
AITA? so keep It short I've been with my gf for almost 2 years. Everything has been going really smoothly until she texted this guy that I've always been suspicious of, borrowing her his jacket and texting quite alot. Every after she graduated from school she's not been texting him much but recently she started it again, the first few times it was okay they didn't say anything suspicious, only ignored me to text him. This time however I caught her saying," wanna come find me😉" in a joking way as she is working and she is hinting for him to find her. Before that message they have been texting ALOT too sending him what nails she wanna do and allat, even though she told me what ever she told him, it was still really bothering me. She even asked him to send his time table although they are in different schools. When I saw that message, I was really heartbroken, she realised her mistake and did what every person caught doing something bad would act. I forgave her, but things were so different, I started shouting more and Ive just become so paranoid about everything, everytime I told her im feeling paranoid about what she's doing and if she could update me, she always gets annoyed, and it always leads to big arguments. To cut to the chase, today I had my biggest argument with her and I think we're done. I was overthinking again and once again and we were already on kind of bad terms, I starting saying things like why don't you go date your friend instead? Why don't you just leave me for him instead? She freaked out so i took my stuff and tried to leave, but she blocked me using her body and prevented me to leave but I've had enough. I grabbed my stuff and straight up left the house, it was my first time doing this and she still haven't texted me. I've heard other couples doing the same thing and have no problem with each other texting the opposite gender more than they text each other, Ive always thought that it's just a text, but it's just so bothering and Im wondering if I'm the asshole and escalated the whole situation.
submitted by Front-Cod8003 to AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]
2024.05.19 18:24 Extension_Bit4323 How to deal with this situation at work?
A little about me. I'm 27 ♀️ and I'm super quiet and shy. I also have issues with standing up for myself, I just don't have the confidence.
I started a new job as an airplane cleaner three months ago and it's my first one since I joined a temp agency 4 years ago. So far it went well and I had no issues apart from being slower than everyone but that's fine I got quicker.
But then Jo (♀️) was asked by the manager who was making the teams if she wanted me so there was 6 instead of 5 and she was like "😒 I guess so." Her granddaughter also worked there and she asked who they have and she said the usual people and "Extension Bit cos no-one wants her." This made me sad for the rest of the night but I didn't let it show.
She kept telling me to speed up and/or kept telling me to clean the galley and toilets and was never on the seats. She hates me for some reason, I have no idea what it is. She told the manager she doesn't want me in her group.
Then Lynn (♀️) came off holiday and had me in her group and I was nice to her, same as I was nice to Jo, just casually chatting and I said hi at the start of shift and anything I found on the plane I gave to her if I didn't want it. I thought we were alright like neutral but then came yesterday when the manager was making the teams he put me with Lynn and she said in front of the whole staff room of about 10 people that she's not working with me because "I don't work" as I "don't take stuff (cleaning supplies, vacuum etc) out the van. If you put me with her I'm going home." This was like 4 hours into her 12hour shift (she starts at 6, I start at 8) so she'd really only get paid 3 hours just to not be with me.
The whole room went quiet and I felt everyone and the manager looking at me. I clammed up and didn't say anything but was like "what's her problem? It's not even cos I'm slow, it's cos of that?" I actually do take stuff out but if there's too many people around the van or there's nothing to take up then I don't bring anything but I bring rubbish down and the supplies back down.
I was also thinking "Great someone else hates me now." For like a stupid reason. She then said my friend Charlene said the same thing don't make me be the bad guy and she said she's staying out of it. When I asked her later she said she said it when I first started but then I started bringing stuff up and being faster. She's never said it recently.
Then today, I was heading to the toilet and it was the same time as Jo's husband Kevin left. As I was coming out the toilet he asked me if I was alright as I looked upset yesterday and I said yea then explained what happened yesterday. We were walking back to the staff room together then Jo and Lynn were coming down the corridor too and Jo took Kevin aside and asked what we were talking about.
I say in the staff room with Charlene and Lynn came in saying "don't you just hate when people talk behind your back? If you got something to say, say it to my face." and I was like thinking "you can talk, you were doing the same thing yesterday." and also that I ever said anything bad about her to Kevin I just said what happened, I didn't call her names or anything. And it's not "talking behind your back" when the whole fking staff room heard it.
But now the manager has left as it was his last day today and I'm worried about what the new managers gonna be like and if he'll let me be with either Charlene or Paul and Cheryl as they don't hate me (yet). I'm worried he's gonna put me with either Jo and/or Lynn and he won't give them a choice and since they already hate me they'll probably treat me like crap and expect me to my part of the plane in like 20 seconds or something.
It's honestly making me feel like asking the base manager if I can be moved to the other night shift or just quit and go back to the temp agency where I worked alone but was struggling to make enough money to pay bills and stuff. 😓
submitted by Extension_Bit4323 to recruitinghell [link] [comments]
I started a new job as an airplane cleaner three months ago and it's my first one since I joined a temp agency 4 years ago. So far it went well and I had no issues apart from being slower than everyone but that's fine I got quicker.
But then Jo (♀️) was asked by the manager who was making the teams if she wanted me so there was 6 instead of 5 and she was like "😒 I guess so." Her granddaughter also worked there and she asked who they have and she said the usual people and "Extension Bit cos no-one wants her." This made me sad for the rest of the night but I didn't let it show.
She kept telling me to speed up and/or kept telling me to clean the galley and toilets and was never on the seats. She hates me for some reason, I have no idea what it is. She told the manager she doesn't want me in her group.
Then Lynn (♀️) came off holiday and had me in her group and I was nice to her, same as I was nice to Jo, just casually chatting and I said hi at the start of shift and anything I found on the plane I gave to her if I didn't want it. I thought we were alright like neutral but then came yesterday when the manager was making the teams he put me with Lynn and she said in front of the whole staff room of about 10 people that she's not working with me because "I don't work" as I "don't take stuff (cleaning supplies, vacuum etc) out the van. If you put me with her I'm going home." This was like 4 hours into her 12hour shift (she starts at 6, I start at 8) so she'd really only get paid 3 hours just to not be with me.
The whole room went quiet and I felt everyone and the manager looking at me. I clammed up and didn't say anything but was like "what's her problem? It's not even cos I'm slow, it's cos of that?" I actually do take stuff out but if there's too many people around the van or there's nothing to take up then I don't bring anything but I bring rubbish down and the supplies back down.
I was also thinking "Great someone else hates me now." For like a stupid reason. She then said my friend Charlene said the same thing don't make me be the bad guy and she said she's staying out of it. When I asked her later she said she said it when I first started but then I started bringing stuff up and being faster. She's never said it recently.
Then today, I was heading to the toilet and it was the same time as Jo's husband Kevin left. As I was coming out the toilet he asked me if I was alright as I looked upset yesterday and I said yea then explained what happened yesterday. We were walking back to the staff room together then Jo and Lynn were coming down the corridor too and Jo took Kevin aside and asked what we were talking about.
I say in the staff room with Charlene and Lynn came in saying "don't you just hate when people talk behind your back? If you got something to say, say it to my face." and I was like thinking "you can talk, you were doing the same thing yesterday." and also that I ever said anything bad about her to Kevin I just said what happened, I didn't call her names or anything. And it's not "talking behind your back" when the whole fking staff room heard it.
But now the manager has left as it was his last day today and I'm worried about what the new managers gonna be like and if he'll let me be with either Charlene or Paul and Cheryl as they don't hate me (yet). I'm worried he's gonna put me with either Jo and/or Lynn and he won't give them a choice and since they already hate me they'll probably treat me like crap and expect me to my part of the plane in like 20 seconds or something.
It's honestly making me feel like asking the base manager if I can be moved to the other night shift or just quit and go back to the temp agency where I worked alone but was struggling to make enough money to pay bills and stuff. 😓
2024.05.19 18:24 ElysiumLeo90 GOAD Spring Fling Kink Sling '24: "A Demonic Study in Sparking Your S*x Life"
 | Thanks to GOAD for organizing such a fun event! And massive kudos to u/lexarturo for being an amazing collaborative partner and creating beautiful artwork! Let's do it again, sometime! submitted by ElysiumLeo90 to GoodOmensAfterDark [link] [comments] Roulette Category: Black Story prompt: Electro-Stim A Demonic Study in Sparking Your S*x Life By Elysiumleo Rating: Explicit Story CW: Heed AO3 tags, Electro-stim, Aziracrow, South Downs Cottage, Happy Ending, Post-Second Coming, Bad Puns, Bad Dirty Talk, Ineffable Husbands, Crowley and Aziraphale Love Each Other Very Much, Occult Beings Getting Their Freak On, Illustrated Fic, Story imbedded NSFW Art, Artist/Writer Collab, Spring Fling Event, Safety Warnings notated (please read them!) Story Summary: After averting two Apocalypses in a row, Crowley and Aziraphale finally secure their much deserved retirement together, settling down in their dream cottage in the South Downs, just like they always wanted. Their relationship and their quiet domesticity are perfection; the s*x... even better. Until an unfortunate incident reveals that Crowley has a dirty little kink. When Crowley accidentally shocks himself on a neighbour's electric fence, he realises he might have a bit of a problem on his hands. It should be embarrassing really. How is he supposed to enjoy his long, quiet, sultry retirement with his partner, if the only way he can get off is by electrocuting himself? Luckily for him, he's got the perfect partner willing to help him explore the wild and wonderful world of electro-stimulation. Story excerpt: “Well, drat,” Aziraphale huffed, glancing at the little white box in his hands. “I’m sorry darling… but I suppose this disappointment might have been expected. The guides did say that this machine was a fairly decent option for beginners of the practice…” “Yep,” Crowley replied, popping the ‘p’ before shrugging a shoulder dismissively. “Funny that, the demon recreationally electrocuting himself didn’t get the same rush he did from the newbie tickler box. Who would have thought?” Sighing heavily, Crowley glanced down at the floor where the rest of their purchase had been spread out at Aziraphale’s disposal. Off to Aziraphale’s side, he could see the other machine they’d yet to try, the “E-Stim SENSi-Wave”, sitting small and unassuming on the plush rug. As he glared at the box in accusation, Crowley’s mind wandered over the whole ordeal, the money they’d miraculously conjured up for the whole set up, and the long anticipation they’d endured until their purchase had arrived. It had all seemingly led to nothing. If forks in toasters was the highlight of his sxual exploration, perhaps it was best if he simply packed in the notion and went back to their more traditional sx lives. At least they would both be satisfied, relatively speaking. “Ugh, well…that was a waste,” Crowley grumbled at last, twisting his limbs where they were slung over the arms of the chair. “I can’t imagine the other device is going to wow me any more than that little buzz box. Might as well just untie me and we’ll forget the whole thing.” Hesitating, Crowley glanced down at the pout crossing Aziraphale’s face, and he offered him a reassuring smile. “Oi, don’t give me that look, angel. I really appreciate that you were willing to try this for me. S’just not meant to be. I promise no more fussing with the wiring. You kept your end of the deal, and I’ll keep mine, just like we said.” Aziraphale shook his head in response, reaching up to brush a hand over Crowley’s jaw. “Now let’s not be too hasty. We haven't tested the other one yet. Perhaps this little thing will surprise us both.” Aziraphale smiled up at Crowley, his eyes soft with loving understanding. “It’s worth a try. And if it doesn’t work then we will at least know.” Crowley listened to his angel’s logic, a small smirk dancing across his lips; it was comforting to see Aziraphale’s optimism, and for a moment, Crowley felt his own rise in agreement. Turning his head, he pressed a small kiss to Aziraphale’s palm as he finally nodded in assent. “Alright, fine. Let’s give it a shot before my bloody legs fall asleep like this.” Beaming up at his demon, Aziraphale then turned his attention to the forgotten stim-box at his hip. Taking a moment to plug in the leads still stuck to Crowley’s inner thighs, he carefully adjusted the cables before double checking that the power supply was still plugged into the outlet and that there were no kinks or bends in the cord to cause an unfortunate short to occur. Once he was certain that everything was set to rights, the angel quickly parked himself back in front of Crowley’s chair, holding up the little box with a hopeful smile. “Alright then, darling. Let’s get supercharged then, shall we?” Like what you see? Head on over to AO3 and give it some love! Like what you see? Head on over to AO3 and give it some love! https://archiveofourown.org/works/55918090/chapters/141994615#workskin |
2024.05.19 18:24 interested_thumb Daydreamed about a friends boyfriend for hours, fell asleep, proceeded to dream of the friend. She and I were wrestling in a non-sexual way.
So, in the dream she and I were chatting over video call. Then all of a sudden, she is lying on the bed right beside me and she has disappeared from the video call screen. I ask her how did she even get here, and she tells me about some futuristic concept.
The next thing I know we start to mess around, to a point where both of us are wrestling with each other. Pushing, holding, slamming each other on the bed. It had to be the most ridiculous dream I had in a while but it got me thinking, while in the dream there were no sexual feelings involved. I would say we started wrestling just for the hell of it. It wasnt even friendly, or competitive. So strange.
In real life, I have never met the friend's boyfriend, we have never even spoken to each other, we just know each other through our friend. And Wrestling is a big turn on for me. I just like being physical with each other. My interest in wrestling and related stuff has always been sexual, so when I woke up and thought of the dream and the friend. I kept wondering if I was developing any sexual feelings for her. Could not think of anything better.
submitted by interested_thumb to Jung [link] [comments]
The next thing I know we start to mess around, to a point where both of us are wrestling with each other. Pushing, holding, slamming each other on the bed. It had to be the most ridiculous dream I had in a while but it got me thinking, while in the dream there were no sexual feelings involved. I would say we started wrestling just for the hell of it. It wasnt even friendly, or competitive. So strange.
In real life, I have never met the friend's boyfriend, we have never even spoken to each other, we just know each other through our friend. And Wrestling is a big turn on for me. I just like being physical with each other. My interest in wrestling and related stuff has always been sexual, so when I woke up and thought of the dream and the friend. I kept wondering if I was developing any sexual feelings for her. Could not think of anything better.
2024.05.19 18:24 MK_Nyaga10 No jobs available anywhere?
Are there seriously no job opportunities for recent graduates? It's been months now since I finished school, I've applied to hundreds of places visited dozens of offices with my resume but I keep getting turned down.
Most of these places keep saying that they need people with at least 2 years of experience if not more, the question is where are we supposed to get the experience if no one os willing to give us the opportunity to grow it? I say "we" cause there literally thousands of graduates out there who are in a similar position as me.
I'm scared cause I can't see a future where things get better. I'm worried that I spent years in school working my ass off day and night all for nothing. I keep psyching myself up that things will get better but deep down I can't see how they will.
Honestly I don't know what to do, I know that Most off you here have been through plenty of hardship searching the job market in your countries, it would help if you could share some of your stories here, anonymity is always guaranteed of course.
submitted by MK_Nyaga10 to NoStupidQuestions [link] [comments]
Most of these places keep saying that they need people with at least 2 years of experience if not more, the question is where are we supposed to get the experience if no one os willing to give us the opportunity to grow it? I say "we" cause there literally thousands of graduates out there who are in a similar position as me.
I'm scared cause I can't see a future where things get better. I'm worried that I spent years in school working my ass off day and night all for nothing. I keep psyching myself up that things will get better but deep down I can't see how they will.
Honestly I don't know what to do, I know that Most off you here have been through plenty of hardship searching the job market in your countries, it would help if you could share some of your stories here, anonymity is always guaranteed of course.
2024.05.19 18:23 cyclopswashalfright Tom Brevoort on the Throuple, Cloak and Dagger, Phoenix/Storm
Hello everyone, wanted to post some of Tom Brevoort's responses to reader questions from his Substack again, which you can read here in full: https://tombrevoort.substack.com/p/112-this-marvel-comic-could-be-worth
I always recommend reading it, especially the non-Q&A parts because he goes into comic history and older, obscure works he's edited in the past which is very neat.
submitted by cyclopswashalfright to xmen [link] [comments]
I always recommend reading it, especially the non-Q&A parts because he goes into comic history and older, obscure works he's edited in the past which is very neat.
Q: What are you thoughts on the Krakoan era changing up the dynamics of the Scott-Jean-Logan relationship to having Jean openly be in a romantic relationship with both men? Is this something you intend to carry on in From The Ashes or something to be left behindA: A couple of people have asked me about this, wizkid, and so let me turn this back around on you. Because I don’t think there was ever much of anything that was on the page in any of the Krakoa stories that said anything of the kind. Jonathan was perhaps cheeky in an interview or two, as is his way, but if it’s not on the page, it’s not on the stage, and I don’t recall there being a lot of on-page action that would need to be addressed.
Q: Tom, what did you think of Tony's relationship with Emma? I honestly loved their dynamic, and they both have great chemistry.A: I thought that Gerry did a very nice job with it, Alison.
Q: What are your thoughts on the characters Cloak and Dagger? Also where do you think things stand in regard to their mutant status? Writers have gone back and forth for years now, and I for one really like them both as street heroes and X-Men, but I’m curious to hear your thoughts.A: I think Cloak and Dagger are perfectly fine characters, Joe, but I can’t say that I have all that much of an attachment to them. I was around for their debut, when for a shining instance they were the hot new thing on the canvas. And I was around as they struggled in iteration after iteration, without anybody quite ever being able to unlock their potential to its fullest. We haven’t considered Cloak and Dagger mutants for decades at this point, and I think that’s correct—making them mutants was a blatant desperation ploy to try yo buoy their sales potential on the back of the more popular X-Line. Didn’t work, so it shouldn’t be maintained.
Q: Tom, I’m really bullish on the creative teams for the solo X-books that were announced this week (Dazzler, Storm and Wolverine). Can you give any behind the scenes tidbits on the casting of creative teams for these?A: I don’t really know that I can, Ben. So much of this stuff really just comes down to a gut instinct. And I only directly cast one of these books, STORM. DAZZLER was put together by Martin Biro, who had been wanting to do a DAZZLER project for some time. And WOLVERINE was assembled by Mark Basso. I will say that I was the one who pitched the idea of Storm joining the Avengers to Jed and new editor Wil Moss once I realized that her presence in any of the other main X-Titles threatened to unbalance them, and that it would be an unexpected and hopefully shocking move—one that might potentially serve to elevate her as a solo character.
Q: my question is: Characters like Storm and Phoenix in particular have been awarded a very deserved and a longtime coming push forward, which is finally establishing them as solo superhero brands, and as such many fans are very excited about this approach. However many of us are anxious about the future of said characters once the present books wrap up, and are afraid of the cyclical regression that comic books often put characters through (female characters especially!). What is your opinion on this and are you committed to working towards the future these heroes have been promised and deserve?A: See answer 3 above, Iron. But if titles featuring these characters fail to catch on, that’s going to be a pretty compelling indicator that, at least at that moment, there isn’t sufficient interest from the readership base to make a series starring that character viable. But I’m not planning on the books failing, so it seems a strange thing to be worried about this early on.
2024.05.19 18:22 OrlonDogger A Witch at Midnight - Chapter 17
[First] [Previous] [Next]
Spying on a college student wasn’t exactly riveting, mostly because it was so easy! Connecting to Tav’s computer had been a breeze, and taking over the microphone on her phone wasn’t exactly hard either. Blanco had a good look at the girl’s files, checking her old writings with little to no interest, and then reading through the notes she was taking on a ‘Translation effort’ with legitimate curiosity.
The creature was sitting in the air, slowly sliding from one side of his room to the other, lit only by the lights of the many screens on its walls… all while the grin on his face was only growing wider and wider with each new discovery. So a language, hmm? Wasn’t that the thing that G and Eighty Two had been rambling about for years now? Ohhh, he couldn’t wait to tell them… or, at least, tell G about it.
He had been paid quite the hefty sum to not tell 82 a thing of what they discovered, at least for now… the fight between those two had always struck Blanco as arbitrary and stupid, but alas! It wasn’t his business, really! In fact, that fight had brought much more business to him than anything!
The phone suddenly rings. Speak of the devil! A quick check on the caller ID showed Eighty Two’s private line.
With a broken glass grin covering his otherwise smooth face, Blanco took the phone.
“Bianccio Pizzería! Thickest pizza around! How can I help you?~” Oh how he relished pissing people off.
“Shut up.” A cold, feminine voice came from the other side. Eighty Two always sounded so annoyed… “I need a service. Payment will be in advance, as per our usual accord.”
“Ohhh straight to the point huh? I like it!”
“There’s a new user in Dejima 08. Perform the usual Safety Scan. They claim to have been invited by user ‘Canned Tea’, but we know he has lied about it before.”
“Ok, let me check!” Just to cover, Blanco tapped gibberish on his keyboard while softly going ‘beep boop’ as he worked. “... Alright! Got it!”
“That was fast.”
“Tav. Real name Santino Belnades. A Bastard Mage living in Saüle, Wohl.”
“Is he dangerous?”
“Actually she goes by she now!”
“Is she dangerous?” Mustafá grumbled, more annoyed than usual.
“Nah. Just a college student like many others. She’ll give up or die in a month tops.”
“...” Mustafá remained silent for a moment, ruminating. “So Canned Tea is just covering another random bastard…”
“Ahem. My pay?”
“Why is this kid like this? Can’t he realize that he’s getting them into far more trouble than it’s worth?”
“I thought you said nothing ever happens in that forum of yours. Isn’t that your main complaint?”
“That doesn’t mean nothing ‘can’ happen at any moment. If the Brotherhood finds out about this forum, they could seize all of us for questioning.” The alchemist let out a deep sigh.
“Yeah, real tragic. Pay me.”
“I wonder how this one got turned. Probably some mage’s irresponsible usage of spells…? No, Wohl has such a low magical population, and such a high conscription by the Brotherhood…”
Blanco let out the deepest of sighs, rubbing his smooth face with a hand while spinning slowly on his non-existent chair. This was exactly why he prefered working with G, that and the lack of emotions that witch had…
And people called him inhuman! Hah!
“Keep an eye on her. I will pay you right now.”
There was a loud ‘KA-CHING!’ sound coming from one of the computers in the room. Blanco sighed in relief.
“Thank you for your patronage! I will keep you updated.”
“Good.”
With that, the alchemist hung up. Blanco growled again. No one said ‘Good Bye’ these days now, did they!? Rude pricks. And bad news kept coming up! This ‘Canny’ guy was now telling her that he’ll teach her the glyph for digital security?
“Guess baby time is over.”
He’d have to work a little harder to stay hidden if Tav decided to install that on all of her devices. At least it would keep him entertained! Blanco decided to focus on preparing for when things would get more intense.
After all, he had some time. The kid was going to the library, right? There was only one book she wanted from there, and Blanco had read it several times over already.
Gato’s old scratchbook held no new knowledge for the vampire to be interested.
There is no such thing as an entire section dedicated to recipe books in Saüle University’s Library, but I manage to find that stuff in the ‘miscellany’ section. That’s where all the hobby and self-help material ends up, and even if it took me a moment to come to the conclusion, that’s where I went too.
It takes me even longer to look through every single tome I could in that section, but finally, after all my hard work… I think I have found it.
Canny was right, this is a cheap notebook. Soft covers, spiral-bound, both sides stamped with wizard hats, frogs, potion phials and many other pieces of typically ‘witchy’ imagery. Looking through the pages, it is just a bunch of cake and kuchen recipes, nothing to write home about. It is old, the pages are all yellowish and fragile, and there are stains everywhere.
Then, when I am sure no one is watching… I whispered the words.
“Jantar mantar…?”
It is instantaneous, as soon as I say the password the pages begin to change, words disappearas the ink that wrote them starts gathering in a single, dark blotch, and then begins rearranging again…
Something compels me to close the book, feeling a little embarrassed. For some reason I equated it to catching someone changing up clothes, how outrageous!
Finally, after waiting for a moment, I open it again.
The Bastard’s Guide to Magic
By Gato
Okay, that was certainly a title.
Now that I have it in my hands, I quickly close it again and add it to a pile of books I have picked up. Stuff on ancient symbology and old civilizations. With my loot in my arms, I quickly go over to the main desk and get it all sorted.
The second floor librarian smiles at me for a moment before scanning all the barcodes, giving me a week to return all the books, and then offering me a bag to carry them. I shake my head, setting it all in my backpack.
… Wow, it’s been a while since I've taken this old backpack out to Uni, huh?
“Feeling nostalgic?”
“For the times you were an actually useful member of society?”
Maybe a little bit, to be honest. I still remember when I used to come here with Patricio looking for academic books and I escaped the duties to look for something interesting to read…
“Back when you actually read as a hobby.”
Shut up, I’ve been reading more these days, I am returning to it.
Walking out of the Library, I once again avoid the gaze of any acquaintances and run straight for the streets to take another taxi back home. There aren’t that many people around today anyways, probably because of Winter Vacation.
Maybe I should send Patricio a message…
“Oh yeah? And what will you tell him? That you’re ditching formal studies for a fantasy? That magic is real and shit?”
I… thought of saying hi. That’s what friends do, right?
“When was the last time you spoke to a friend? Pepe? Vito? What about Venus?”
I flinch for a moment.
“We can fix that right now! Let’s go chat with Patricio when we get home!”
I… don’t think I will, no. The mere idea of getting in contact with him makes me a little sick from the nerves, especially considering I don’t really have an answer for what he told me before. I remain as undecided on the whole ‘career’ deal as I was that day.
With a hand I call for a passing taxi, and I have the luck of being acknowledged. You never know with the Taxists these days, it is very well known that they dislike the college students in this city.
Maybe he is hurting for money.
I sit down, tell the man where I need to go, and stop thinking about things for a moment as the car moves… only to feel my phone vibrating.
It vibrates more than once.
That means someone’s calling me.
I start sweating almost immediately, as I carefully pull the thing out. Two possibilities, it js either spam, or it is my parents.
It is my parents.
“Calm down.”
“How do you think they would feel if they knew how fucking distressed their presence make you? Do you think they would ask ‘whatever did we do wrong?’ or something like that?”
“Don’t listen. Just… remember that they’ve never meant anything bad, ok? They will accept you, regardless of your results in college.”
I gulp… and with a deep breath, I put on the mask. All trembling stops, just like that night at the planetarium… although it really pains me to compare mom and dad to the cloaks. With another deep breath, I pick up.
“Mom?”
“Ohhhhh hi there Santi! How are you today? I hope I didn’t catch you too busy!” Mom was as vital and energetic as ever. Despite her old age, she really always acts like a far younger woman. That’s admirable, at least to me.
“She will die eventually, too.”
Saints above, shut up.
“I’m fine mom! I was just returning from the library. We started vacation this week, so I was picking some stuff to read on my own.” Not technically a lie. “How are things over there in Sumpf?”
“Ohhh you know, there’s never much to tell around here. Your dad and Vito always at each other’s throats… I really hope they'll get along a bit better with time.”
“They wont. If anything, it will get worse.”
Vito will grow wiser and dad will grow older, I am sure things will get better.
“Hah, I guess some things never change… what about you? Feeling fine?”
“Oh you know me, I am fine! For now.” She laughed loudly. “And you, Santi? How do you feel?”
“Uh…”
Damn it. I hesitated. I need to give that a reason NOW.
“... Well I had a bit of a toothache before, but beyond that, all’s…” I sigh. “Okay, maybe not so good. Mom, I think I flunked my exams this time…”
“Oh my dear…” She sighed, before going back to her positive self. “Don’t torture yourself over it now. Wait for the actual grade to be announced, then torture yourself!”
“Moom!”
“I am just kidding sweetie.” She chuckled a bit. “It is fine, we all fail sometimes… really, it’s not the end of the world, I swear.”
“She’s trying to soften the blow from the fact that you’re a fucking failure.”
I shudder.
“You are doing your best, that’s all that matters.”
“Are you?”
“We are proud of you, Santi. Never forget that.” She said, probably smiling.
“They were proud. Now? They are just enduring you.”
My lips tremble, a sharp breath escapes me. No, please. I can’t cry in a damn taxi…
“...Mom.”
“Yes, dear?”
“... What if this career isn’t what I am meant to do?”
“We are not ‘meant’ to do things. The Saints put us here to try and improve ourselves, but there’s no one dictated path, dear.”
Sometimes I forget that mom is quite religious, it makes me smile a little bit.
“I know, I know. But that’s not what I meant…” I hesitate again, breathing in and out, trying to keep the panic attack at bay. “... Mom… what if this is not the career I am built for?”
“Well… you can always change, dear! It is no problem, don’t worry about the money. We can afford it, especially with your scholarship!”
I certainly lost that one with my disastrous performance here, but I don’t have the guts to tell Mom that.
“As if she didn’t know already. She’s not stupid.”
“... Thank you mom.”
“Any time, dear. If there’s ANYTHING at all that you feel like telling me, remember that I am always on your side, okay?”
“Yes mom.”
“Yeah yeah, ‘yes mom’, that means ‘shut up already, old lady’, right?” She giggled.
“Mooom!”
“Alright, alright… I hope you can come back soon, okay? We miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
“She doesn’t believe you. None of them do. They think you’re cold, distant and a failure on top of all that.”
“I love you mom.”
“Love you too, Santi.”
Click.
The taxi is not moving, it hasn’t been for a while now. The old man behind the steering wheel looks at me with concern.
“We’re here… kid. If something is wrong, you gotta tell your mom. Trust me… there are many things I wish I told mine before she passed.”
“You don’t know us. You have no idea about us. Stop talking so familiarly to us and go away.”
I flinch, pushing down that response and just sighing.
“I know… thank you.”
After paying the man, I walk out of the taxi and let it go, standing in front of my apartment complex for a moment.
I really don’t want to cry today.
But I already feel some tears going down my face.
Why am I like this?
submitted by OrlonDogger to HFY [link] [comments]
Spying on a college student wasn’t exactly riveting, mostly because it was so easy! Connecting to Tav’s computer had been a breeze, and taking over the microphone on her phone wasn’t exactly hard either. Blanco had a good look at the girl’s files, checking her old writings with little to no interest, and then reading through the notes she was taking on a ‘Translation effort’ with legitimate curiosity.
The creature was sitting in the air, slowly sliding from one side of his room to the other, lit only by the lights of the many screens on its walls… all while the grin on his face was only growing wider and wider with each new discovery. So a language, hmm? Wasn’t that the thing that G and Eighty Two had been rambling about for years now? Ohhh, he couldn’t wait to tell them… or, at least, tell G about it.
He had been paid quite the hefty sum to not tell 82 a thing of what they discovered, at least for now… the fight between those two had always struck Blanco as arbitrary and stupid, but alas! It wasn’t his business, really! In fact, that fight had brought much more business to him than anything!
The phone suddenly rings. Speak of the devil! A quick check on the caller ID showed Eighty Two’s private line.
With a broken glass grin covering his otherwise smooth face, Blanco took the phone.
“Bianccio Pizzería! Thickest pizza around! How can I help you?~” Oh how he relished pissing people off.
“Shut up.” A cold, feminine voice came from the other side. Eighty Two always sounded so annoyed… “I need a service. Payment will be in advance, as per our usual accord.”
“Ohhh straight to the point huh? I like it!”
“There’s a new user in Dejima 08. Perform the usual Safety Scan. They claim to have been invited by user ‘Canned Tea’, but we know he has lied about it before.”
“Ok, let me check!” Just to cover, Blanco tapped gibberish on his keyboard while softly going ‘beep boop’ as he worked. “... Alright! Got it!”
“That was fast.”
“Tav. Real name Santino Belnades. A Bastard Mage living in Saüle, Wohl.”
“Is he dangerous?”
“Actually she goes by she now!”
“Is she dangerous?” Mustafá grumbled, more annoyed than usual.
“Nah. Just a college student like many others. She’ll give up or die in a month tops.”
“...” Mustafá remained silent for a moment, ruminating. “So Canned Tea is just covering another random bastard…”
“Ahem. My pay?”
“Why is this kid like this? Can’t he realize that he’s getting them into far more trouble than it’s worth?”
“I thought you said nothing ever happens in that forum of yours. Isn’t that your main complaint?”
“That doesn’t mean nothing ‘can’ happen at any moment. If the Brotherhood finds out about this forum, they could seize all of us for questioning.” The alchemist let out a deep sigh.
“Yeah, real tragic. Pay me.”
“I wonder how this one got turned. Probably some mage’s irresponsible usage of spells…? No, Wohl has such a low magical population, and such a high conscription by the Brotherhood…”
Blanco let out the deepest of sighs, rubbing his smooth face with a hand while spinning slowly on his non-existent chair. This was exactly why he prefered working with G, that and the lack of emotions that witch had…
And people called him inhuman! Hah!
“Keep an eye on her. I will pay you right now.”
There was a loud ‘KA-CHING!’ sound coming from one of the computers in the room. Blanco sighed in relief.
“Thank you for your patronage! I will keep you updated.”
“Good.”
With that, the alchemist hung up. Blanco growled again. No one said ‘Good Bye’ these days now, did they!? Rude pricks. And bad news kept coming up! This ‘Canny’ guy was now telling her that he’ll teach her the glyph for digital security?
“Guess baby time is over.”
He’d have to work a little harder to stay hidden if Tav decided to install that on all of her devices. At least it would keep him entertained! Blanco decided to focus on preparing for when things would get more intense.
After all, he had some time. The kid was going to the library, right? There was only one book she wanted from there, and Blanco had read it several times over already.
Gato’s old scratchbook held no new knowledge for the vampire to be interested.
There is no such thing as an entire section dedicated to recipe books in Saüle University’s Library, but I manage to find that stuff in the ‘miscellany’ section. That’s where all the hobby and self-help material ends up, and even if it took me a moment to come to the conclusion, that’s where I went too.
It takes me even longer to look through every single tome I could in that section, but finally, after all my hard work… I think I have found it.
Canny was right, this is a cheap notebook. Soft covers, spiral-bound, both sides stamped with wizard hats, frogs, potion phials and many other pieces of typically ‘witchy’ imagery. Looking through the pages, it is just a bunch of cake and kuchen recipes, nothing to write home about. It is old, the pages are all yellowish and fragile, and there are stains everywhere.
Then, when I am sure no one is watching… I whispered the words.
“Jantar mantar…?”
It is instantaneous, as soon as I say the password the pages begin to change, words disappearas the ink that wrote them starts gathering in a single, dark blotch, and then begins rearranging again…
Something compels me to close the book, feeling a little embarrassed. For some reason I equated it to catching someone changing up clothes, how outrageous!
Finally, after waiting for a moment, I open it again.
The Bastard’s Guide to Magic
By Gato
Okay, that was certainly a title.
Now that I have it in my hands, I quickly close it again and add it to a pile of books I have picked up. Stuff on ancient symbology and old civilizations. With my loot in my arms, I quickly go over to the main desk and get it all sorted.
The second floor librarian smiles at me for a moment before scanning all the barcodes, giving me a week to return all the books, and then offering me a bag to carry them. I shake my head, setting it all in my backpack.
… Wow, it’s been a while since I've taken this old backpack out to Uni, huh?
“Feeling nostalgic?”
“For the times you were an actually useful member of society?”
Maybe a little bit, to be honest. I still remember when I used to come here with Patricio looking for academic books and I escaped the duties to look for something interesting to read…
“Back when you actually read as a hobby.”
Shut up, I’ve been reading more these days, I am returning to it.
Walking out of the Library, I once again avoid the gaze of any acquaintances and run straight for the streets to take another taxi back home. There aren’t that many people around today anyways, probably because of Winter Vacation.
Maybe I should send Patricio a message…
“Oh yeah? And what will you tell him? That you’re ditching formal studies for a fantasy? That magic is real and shit?”
I… thought of saying hi. That’s what friends do, right?
“When was the last time you spoke to a friend? Pepe? Vito? What about Venus?”
I flinch for a moment.
“We can fix that right now! Let’s go chat with Patricio when we get home!”
I… don’t think I will, no. The mere idea of getting in contact with him makes me a little sick from the nerves, especially considering I don’t really have an answer for what he told me before. I remain as undecided on the whole ‘career’ deal as I was that day.
With a hand I call for a passing taxi, and I have the luck of being acknowledged. You never know with the Taxists these days, it is very well known that they dislike the college students in this city.
Maybe he is hurting for money.
I sit down, tell the man where I need to go, and stop thinking about things for a moment as the car moves… only to feel my phone vibrating.
It vibrates more than once.
That means someone’s calling me.
I start sweating almost immediately, as I carefully pull the thing out. Two possibilities, it js either spam, or it is my parents.
It is my parents.
“Calm down.”
“How do you think they would feel if they knew how fucking distressed their presence make you? Do you think they would ask ‘whatever did we do wrong?’ or something like that?”
“Don’t listen. Just… remember that they’ve never meant anything bad, ok? They will accept you, regardless of your results in college.”
I gulp… and with a deep breath, I put on the mask. All trembling stops, just like that night at the planetarium… although it really pains me to compare mom and dad to the cloaks. With another deep breath, I pick up.
“Mom?”
“Ohhhhh hi there Santi! How are you today? I hope I didn’t catch you too busy!” Mom was as vital and energetic as ever. Despite her old age, she really always acts like a far younger woman. That’s admirable, at least to me.
“She will die eventually, too.”
Saints above, shut up.
“I’m fine mom! I was just returning from the library. We started vacation this week, so I was picking some stuff to read on my own.” Not technically a lie. “How are things over there in Sumpf?”
“Ohhh you know, there’s never much to tell around here. Your dad and Vito always at each other’s throats… I really hope they'll get along a bit better with time.”
“They wont. If anything, it will get worse.”
Vito will grow wiser and dad will grow older, I am sure things will get better.
“Hah, I guess some things never change… what about you? Feeling fine?”
“Oh you know me, I am fine! For now.” She laughed loudly. “And you, Santi? How do you feel?”
“Uh…”
Damn it. I hesitated. I need to give that a reason NOW.
“... Well I had a bit of a toothache before, but beyond that, all’s…” I sigh. “Okay, maybe not so good. Mom, I think I flunked my exams this time…”
“Oh my dear…” She sighed, before going back to her positive self. “Don’t torture yourself over it now. Wait for the actual grade to be announced, then torture yourself!”
“Moom!”
“I am just kidding sweetie.” She chuckled a bit. “It is fine, we all fail sometimes… really, it’s not the end of the world, I swear.”
“She’s trying to soften the blow from the fact that you’re a fucking failure.”
I shudder.
“You are doing your best, that’s all that matters.”
“Are you?”
“We are proud of you, Santi. Never forget that.” She said, probably smiling.
“They were proud. Now? They are just enduring you.”
My lips tremble, a sharp breath escapes me. No, please. I can’t cry in a damn taxi…
“...Mom.”
“Yes, dear?”
“... What if this career isn’t what I am meant to do?”
“We are not ‘meant’ to do things. The Saints put us here to try and improve ourselves, but there’s no one dictated path, dear.”
Sometimes I forget that mom is quite religious, it makes me smile a little bit.
“I know, I know. But that’s not what I meant…” I hesitate again, breathing in and out, trying to keep the panic attack at bay. “... Mom… what if this is not the career I am built for?”
“Well… you can always change, dear! It is no problem, don’t worry about the money. We can afford it, especially with your scholarship!”
I certainly lost that one with my disastrous performance here, but I don’t have the guts to tell Mom that.
“As if she didn’t know already. She’s not stupid.”
“... Thank you mom.”
“Any time, dear. If there’s ANYTHING at all that you feel like telling me, remember that I am always on your side, okay?”
“Yes mom.”
“Yeah yeah, ‘yes mom’, that means ‘shut up already, old lady’, right?” She giggled.
“Mooom!”
“Alright, alright… I hope you can come back soon, okay? We miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
“She doesn’t believe you. None of them do. They think you’re cold, distant and a failure on top of all that.”
“I love you mom.”
“Love you too, Santi.”
Click.
The taxi is not moving, it hasn’t been for a while now. The old man behind the steering wheel looks at me with concern.
“We’re here… kid. If something is wrong, you gotta tell your mom. Trust me… there are many things I wish I told mine before she passed.”
“You don’t know us. You have no idea about us. Stop talking so familiarly to us and go away.”
I flinch, pushing down that response and just sighing.
“I know… thank you.”
After paying the man, I walk out of the taxi and let it go, standing in front of my apartment complex for a moment.
I really don’t want to cry today.
But I already feel some tears going down my face.
Why am I like this?
2024.05.19 18:22 Front-Cod8003 I need advice and help on what I should do
so keep It short I've been with my gf for almost 2 years. Everything has been going really smoothly until she texted this guy that I've always been suspicious of, borrowing her his jacket and texting quite alot. Every after she graduated from school she's not been texting him much but recently she started it again, the first few times it was okay they didn't say anything suspicious, only ignored me to text him. This time however I caught her saying," wanna come find me😉" in a joking way as she is working and she is hinting for him to find her. Before that message they have been texting ALOT too sending him what nails she wanna do and allat, even though she told me what ever she told him, it was still really bothering me. She even asked him to send his time table although they are in different schools. When I saw that message, I was really heartbroken, she realised her mistake and did what every person caught doing something bad would act. I forgave her, but things were so different, I started shouting more and Ive just become so paranoid about everything, everytime I told her im feeling paranoid about what she's doing and if she could update me, she always gets annoyed, and it always leads to big arguments. To cut to the chase, today I had my biggest argument with her and I think we're done. I was overthinking again and once again and we were already on kind of bad terms, I starting saying things like why don't you go date your friend instead? Why don't you just leave me for him instead? She freaked out and started slapping, punching throwing my phone and pushing me. I was in so much pain and this time I've had enough, I actually used strength on her, fyi I gym pretty often. I pushed her on the bed, took my stuff and tried to leave, but she blocked me using her body and prevented me to leave but I've had enough I pushed her away from me and pushed her on to the bed, BUT I didnt hit her at all. I grabbed my stuff and straight up left the house, it was my first time doing this and she still haven't texted me, can I get some opinion and tips on what I should do?
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2024.05.19 18:21 Ghostlybi Becoming an adult
So, I turn 18 in about 9 ish months and I dont really know what to do. I posted on here a while back but deleted it for security reasons. I've been homeschooled since I was 10, I've had barely any formal education apart from the last half of this school year where I did online school.
I also started taking some in person electives at my local Highschool around the same time i started online schooling. It has been one of the best things to have happened to me in the past years and I will never forget how lucky I am to have that. I know there are too many people on this sub who are completely isolated until theyre adults and i only hope they have opportunities going forward like the ones ive been given. It's crazy how 4 months have felt both like a mere flash of time and a lifetime. This being said I'm not sure how to continue.
I feel like there's so much I should have done, or learned, or been apart of. Now I'm rushing to complete every course under the sun while my parents act like it should be easy. It baffles me how quickly they shift the blame for not providing me with an education. What's worse is that they see how much I've improved in FOUR MONTHS and talk about how they wished they had done this for me sooner. Then they all but refuse to do the same for my siblings until I'm litteraly begging on their behalf. I want a better life for my siblings, it hurts me everyday knowing they will have it better because they have someone fighting for them when I didn't. But I want them to live a better life and have a better childhood.
I don't understand why my parents push away everything I say when there's proof of a better existence. I don't understand how they can say "it worked for you cause you're different, you fight us". My brother is a struggling reader at 11, none of my siblings have had proper math or science classes in nearly a decade. And when I ask for them to be put in these classes I'm hit with "It's not the right time,"
What do I do? What happens when I leave to pursue my own life? I don't even know how I'm going to get into, let alone pay for college. I feel like I'm going to be stuck forever.
submitted by Ghostlybi to HomeschoolRecovery [link] [comments]
I also started taking some in person electives at my local Highschool around the same time i started online schooling. It has been one of the best things to have happened to me in the past years and I will never forget how lucky I am to have that. I know there are too many people on this sub who are completely isolated until theyre adults and i only hope they have opportunities going forward like the ones ive been given. It's crazy how 4 months have felt both like a mere flash of time and a lifetime. This being said I'm not sure how to continue.
I feel like there's so much I should have done, or learned, or been apart of. Now I'm rushing to complete every course under the sun while my parents act like it should be easy. It baffles me how quickly they shift the blame for not providing me with an education. What's worse is that they see how much I've improved in FOUR MONTHS and talk about how they wished they had done this for me sooner. Then they all but refuse to do the same for my siblings until I'm litteraly begging on their behalf. I want a better life for my siblings, it hurts me everyday knowing they will have it better because they have someone fighting for them when I didn't. But I want them to live a better life and have a better childhood.
I don't understand why my parents push away everything I say when there's proof of a better existence. I don't understand how they can say "it worked for you cause you're different, you fight us". My brother is a struggling reader at 11, none of my siblings have had proper math or science classes in nearly a decade. And when I ask for them to be put in these classes I'm hit with "It's not the right time,"
What do I do? What happens when I leave to pursue my own life? I don't even know how I'm going to get into, let alone pay for college. I feel like I'm going to be stuck forever.
2024.05.19 18:21 zzzzzzzzzzzzplz How do I find out if my mom hurt my sister?
I (f 30) am the youngest of two. My older sister (f 36) lives in the same state but a few hours away. She never came home after college because she was in a relationship. When we were younger she was a total mother's girlie girl and I was a daddy's girl. With that dynamic you can conclude that me and mom (f 55) weren't very close back then. When my sister went to college and it was just me and mom, we clashed all the time. I couldn't wait to go to college and be free. Unlike my sister, when i graduated from college I went back home and lived with my mom. While in school she found out she had cancer and I realized how important she was to me, during the summer I would take care of her. I became super protective because my dad (m 60) had died the second part of my freshman year. I guess realizing you only get one dad and mom did something to me and our relationship changed. Strangely, while in college I transformed into a girlie girl with all female roommates that treated me like a toy by dressing me up and taking me to parties. So, when I came home I started working right away. Had some messy relationships and crappy jobs, but my mom always supported me. From what I seen my mom and sister were still close, even with the distance. When Shawn would come home her and mom hung out, sometimes she would stay with us, sometimes not but they talked often. Note, I don't know if it was the age difference or what but me and my sister never got along. Somewhere in my 20's I realized that we were never going to be "those sisters" and called it for what it was. We are blood, but not friends, and I know if we weren't related we would never befriends on purpose. Don't get me wrong, I love her and if Shawn was hurt or in trouble I would help her but for now, for my mom's sake I talk to her on major holiday's and important family matters, but not to just catch up or anything. I honestly don't care. Sadly, if other family member didn't ask "how is your sister", I could probably go years without thinking about her. Anyways, it started off slow, like Shawn would come to town not stay with us, then she would come to town and not reach out until she was leaving, and then we wouldn't know she was in town at all unless she called my grandmother or posted something on social media in a familiar place. It was weird because they would always link up. Shawn loves mom's cooking and would come home just for that. Mom would go visit her and go to work events with Shawn, at the last one mom said they got into an argument because she was tired from driving 5 hours, going to the event without a nap and being on her feet all night. After the event mom just wanted to go back to Shawn's apartment and rest, but there was an after party she wanted to go to. Not wanted to go to the after party mom just wanted her to walk her back to the apartment and then Shawn could go. Shawn wanted mom to go with her and said they wouldn't be there long, but mom was tired. She was trying to convince her that she would only stay for 30 minutes, but we both know when Shawn is in a room she will talk to everyone and 30 minutes could turn into 3 hours real quick. When mom put her foot down and asked her to take her home Shawn got upset and started yelling "this is mom's side of the story", you never want to do anything, ugh, why can't you just have fun, ugh..... She said Shawn was just yelling her on the corner of the street while people were walking. Shawn stays in town where a lot of people walk and everything is close by. Then she agreed to walk mom back but walked super fast and mom couldn't keep up. She is shorter than me and my sister. When they got back, she let mom in, changed her shoes and went back out. When mom came home and told me what happened I was so confused. It isn't like them to argue. I guess you can say this was the beginning of the end. Shawn stopped calling her as often, went out of the country and said nothing about it until the day of. There were just a lot of things she was doing without communicating with mom, it came to a head when our phone plan bill went up 100's of dollars. See, the bill is in Shawn's name but mom pays the bill, well she use to until Shawn got an iPhone and added the cost of the phone to the bill. Mom and I have Samsung's. She did this without telling mom and because the bill was automated it took mom while to notice. When she did, she told Shawn to start paying the bill for the portion of the phone itself. She agreed but wouldn't pay it on times, there were times that my phone was off but didn't notice because I was always near wifi. Somewhere in the middle of this she got another iPhone and the bill went again. Shawn didn't know that just because she got another phone didn't mean she wouldn't have to pay off the other one. They went back and forth on the phone one day arguing, Shawn claiming she paid and mom asking her to go through the payment history and tell her where...... the arguing ended when she started yelling at mom, saying "you're triggering me, you're triggering me" my mom just stared into the phone in disbelief... We're black and raised in a very much black household so for those who know, know those are words that we just don't say..... Well that was last week and this past weekend was mothers day and Shawn didn't call mom.... We have a family group chat of about 23 people and she said it there but not directly to mom or sent a card or anything.... I asked her the Thursday before if she would be sending mom something on mother's because we usually work together to get her something or she send me money and I get her something and Shawn will send a card. But nothing. She didn't even call our grandmother.... I went to my boyfriends house after then mother's day dinner at my grandmother's house, where I stay most weekends and while there she called me. Mom calls when she says things are too much to text. bet she went home and found a package with a 15 pound weight in it and a note saying "I hope your mother's day brought you some joy",.... Um what??? I want someone to tell me why she picked this as a mother's day gift.... and just one ... one 15 pound weight, not a set. Mom works out but already has a set for 5,10,15, and 20 pounds weight that I know Shawn knows she has. Mom was really sad and she isn't the super emotional one of us 3, the emotional one is me. If there is one thing I hate is my mom feeling bad, but then for it to be caused by her own child was different. Shawn NEVER answers the phone like NEVER, I had to tell her our dad passed away via text after calling almost 100 times. Mom sounded like she wanted to cry and just kept asking me " Brit, what did I do wrong, I don't know what I did wrong". Dang, that broke me. Now I'm the bigger of the two of us, and my sister knows me well enough that she don't want these problems so instead for even calling I sent a long text, basically saying I was disappointed to call her my sister and she should be ashamed of how she is treating our mother because when she got fired and unemployment wasn't paying enough to cover her bill's mom paid. Shawn never paid her back. Over all she is one of the most selfish people I know. I just asked her how hard is it to say happy mother's day or send a card. I didn't expect a response, but she did, in only 15 minutes. She said " I appreciate your concern and believe me, this runs much deeper than a phone bill. I don't have the same relationship with mom as you. You only know what you experienced and what happened to you. So, I'm not going to try and explain the various dynamics between mom and I that led to where we are now. It maybe hard for you to understand today. Pls don't blame it all on me. I love you. " I don't even know what that means. I responded something like other than physical, emotional, or mental harm i don't know what could have happened so bad that she couldn't call and say happy mothers day though. I can't imagine my mom doing any of those things. but again she gave some therapy like response and asked me to give her time to heal.... Mom has no clue what various dynamics she is talking about. I'm asking for advice because I feel like she is going down the same path she did with our dad. After our parents marriage ended and we were living with dad, mom still came over 3 times a week and cooked, had us on weekends. It was like she never left the only difference was she didn't sleep at home. When the arrangement changed, dad came 2 weekends in a row. then every other weekend, then once a month, then we were lucky if we saw him at all. It broke my heart in high school when a boy in my class told me to tell my dad that he would be late for practice. I was confused and bugged him all day to explain what he meant. I found out that my dad was coaching baseball across the street from our subdivision about 3 times a week with games on the weekend. So, he could see random boys at my school almost everyday for at least 3 hours and couldn't come over before or after to see his own kids? I actual walked over to the park one day because I refused to believe it, but there he was. We never talked about it. I just started walking there and sitting in the dugout to be near him and he would drive me the 2 minutes back home. All of the players lived in our neighborhood and dad had a flat bed so he would drop them off too. When Shawn graduated high school she never talked to our dad again after that day. She never told me why. He also developed cancer while I was in college and was very sick, when he got better he tried to get back in our lives and I let him in mine, called him on holidays but he did some messed up stuff to me my first year of college so I pushed back a little between that dad would call me and tell me to call my sister on 3 way, if she answered she was forced to talk to him. She wouldn't say much and would always say she was busy or had to do something to do and promise she would call him back and never would. So, now .... as part of my trying to figure out what my mom did, I reminded her how she cried when she found out our dad passed and she just kept saying she thought she had more time and who would walk her down the ail when she gets married and never got a chance to fix things. I would hate for that to happen with our mom too. I know because of our relationship once mom passes away we will most likely not talk or see each other ever again. So, I asking what did my mom do to her? What can I do to help fix this or should I even try? Anyone have any suggestions or ideas, also sorry for the typos or misspelled words or if its hard to follow, but I ask for anyone's input if they have experience this type of situation? Side note, idk if this helps but when Shawn came to town the last few times she stayed with our Aunt Carla. She has baby of the family syndrome, where she thinks she had hard but was actually spoiled rotten and believes all her sisters and brother and their wives are jealous of her. It's total BS but once when mom and I weren't getting along and I stayed with her, she told me some crazy stories about mom sleeping around, getting drunk, trying to fight her and someone else and some other stuff. This was when I was in college and I believed what she said mom and I continued to be on the outs for awhile before I found out about her cancer and became her protector and caregiver for a while. I don't believe those stories so much now be her and mom had issues before, Carla has actually had issues with all her siblings at one point and finds the need to the the main character of her own story and everyone else's. Simply she's a "One Upper". Aunt Carla getting in Shawn's ear is one idea I believe, also Shawn's friend have ummmmm "other people problems" like mellow dramatic soap opera drama and she maybe internalizing their issues. But yeah help, where do I go from here?
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2024.05.19 18:21 Front-Cod8003 I need help and your opinion on what I should do
so keep It short I've been with my gf for almost 2 years. Everything has been going really smoothly until she texted this guy that I've always been suspicious of, borrowing her his jacket and texting quite alot. Every after she graduated from school she's not been texting him much but recently she started it again, the first few times it was okay they didn't say anything suspicious, only ignored me to text him. This time however I caught her saying," wanna come find me😉" in a joking way as she is working and she is hinting for him to find her. Before that message they have been texting ALOT too sending him what nails she wanna do and allat, even though she told me what ever she told him, it was still really bothering me. She even asked him to send his time table although they are in different schools. When I saw that message, I was really heartbroken, she realised her mistake and did what every person caught doing something bad would act. I forgave her, but things were so different, I started shouting more and Ive just become so paranoid about everything, everytime I told her im feeling paranoid about what she's doing and if she could update me, she always gets annoyed, and it always leads to big arguments. To cut to the chase, today I had my biggest argument with her and I think we're done. I was overthinking again and once again and we were already on kind of bad terms, I starting saying things like why don't you go date your friend instead? Why don't you just leave me for him instead? She freaked out and started slapping, punching throwing my phone and pushing me. I was in so much pain and this time I've had enough, I actually used strength on her, fyi I gym pretty often. I pushed her on the bed, took my stuff and tried to leave, but she blocked me using her body and prevented me to leave but I've had enough I pushed her away from me and pushed her on to the bed, BUT I didnt hit her at all. I grabbed my stuff and straight up left the house, it was my first time doing this and she still haven't texted me, can I get some opinion and tips on what I should do?
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2024.05.19 18:21 checkin_em_out Briumvi denied by insurance. Anyone else?
I was diagnosed within the last couple of months, and have been waiting to start on Briumvi. I got a call from Briumvi Patience Assistance last week saying my Dr. office alerted them that insurance has denied my treatment on the basis of having not tried and failed other treatments. They told me that my doctor's office is currently drafting an appeal, and they took some info from me to enroll me in the patience assistance program.
It is so discouraging. I just want to start treatment and start feeling better. Has this happened to anyone else? I'm very curious about two things here:
submitted by checkin_em_out to MultipleSclerosis [link] [comments]
It is so discouraging. I just want to start treatment and start feeling better. Has this happened to anyone else? I'm very curious about two things here:
- Did the appeal written by a doctors office work?
- If it didn't work, and you took your first doses of Briumvi not covered by insurance, did the Briumvi Patient Assistance Program make those doses a reasonable cost?