Putas fotos prostitutas far cry

I 16M met this girl 15F in a discord server, since we both were interested in programming, we became pretty close, almost like siblings, we’ve been friends since august 2021, and she got into a relationship with a guy in 2022, we share everything, but she didn’t tell me that she got into a relationship that too with a guy 3 years older than her and someone who’s bad at academics and basically an uneducated fuck who wants to have coitus with a girl 3 years younger than him, he made her block me, and things went so far that they went to a fuckin hotel together (why the fuck did the hotel staff even let them be alone together in a room?) he touched her genitalia and she just made him stop before they engaged into coitus, then they broke up and she came back to me crying and apologising and told me all this shit and said that he still stalks her and other shit, after sone time we became normal again, now a few minutes ago she told me that they’ve patched up and I’m just so pissed off right now, I tried my best explaining to her that he’s a prick and she should stay away from him, she even has fuckin boards in march, I love her and I genuinely care for her, she’s not understanding, she’s repeating her mistakes, she’s constantly saying that he’s changed and shit like that, my mental health heavily relies on her, i don’t have many friends, I don’t even have siblings, she’s the only person with whom I like talking to , but now I don’t want to talk to her, what should I do? How should I make her understand what’s right? And should I give up on her, if yes, then how should I cope up with the loneliness and stop missing her? I seriously think that I should let her parents know what she’s doing, I know they might beat the shit out of her, take away her gadgets and shit, but she’s repeating the same mistake, I think all this is better than what might happen in future, I know her exact address, one my cousin is an advocate in high court, should I send them a letter from the court?

A counter point to Drug usage, love, hope, and the people you can trust. : AMurderAtTheEnd_Show (reddit.com)
​
She has a PRE EXISTING mental condition. It has been undiagnosed, but the fidget spinner could indicate some ADHD or maybe she's GenZ and they need to fidget so they don't have a "mental health crisis" of some sort.
She has ABUSED Adderall for at least 6 years. A drug she obtains over the counter at truck stops for example, as opposed to being prescribed by a physician, who would stop prescribing it across the board if they found out she was crushing them up and snorting them any time she felt all "triggered" by something.
She has ABUSED alcohol for at least 6 years.
She has a concussion.
She was given other meds in the med room.
She's exhibited numerous additional symptoms of side effects of Adderall ABUSE, including the sweats and heightened heart rate and body temp in the MIDDLE OF SNOWED IN ICELAND she's running around in a sports bra and light jacket most of the time.
The reason people judge Darby is the creators of this series presented her to be one thing, and throughout the show, she is clearly no such thing. And no amount of immature silly downvotes because you don't wanna hear something changes that reality. Have at it. Shows you can't cope with reality is all that shows.
Darby was presented as an experienced sleuth. Darby in the series makes the worst possible choices and mistakes and does everything wrong from the flashbacks to the present.
Darby was presented as a skilled freelance coroner with a clear understanding of death and decomposition. Darby in the show has not used those skills at all when it came to Bill or Rohan. You do not need any particular skillset to identify a scar from a pacemaker insertion. You do not need any particular skillset to identify injection points in an arm nor do you need the assistance of AI to confirm the agility problems with self injecting a dominant arm. It's common sense.
These things are either going to be very deliberately done by the writers to subvert our expectations or the writers cannot write realistic mysteries and this is sloppy and error filled amateurish nonsense. There is no other possible way to take it.
Because it is B&Z I am hoping it's the first one...because I KNOW, like everyone else here, what sort of brilliant insightful masterpiece writing they're capable of. There were a few screw ups in The OA but they were insignificant oversights.
That's not what is happening here.
The show is telling us one thing and showing us something else.
Deliberate, by design or a mess because they veered out of their "lane" so to speak.
Dary has also not solved anything whatsoever. Even in E5 she has acknowledged twice she has pieces but no middle and doesn't know how it fits together.
Perhaps that is in large part due to all the Adderall she's snorting and booze she's downing, and the poor diet, and the head injury and not resting...it's a wonder she knows her own name.
Darby has experienced trauma and she is processing it through numerous flashbacks related to that traumatic event. I get it she's not dealing with it and she's flawed and she's avoiding and escaping and obsessing instead of confronting. That's the character.
NOBODY ever disputed that.
The theory was founded on that as a CONFIRMED REALITY AND FACT.
All of those conditions, therefore, and not SPECIFICALLY SNORTING ADDERALL, are such that it is entirely reasonable to question whether any or some or all of this is a false reality (so as not to trigger the adderall lovers who can't handle the word hallucination or delusion as if it's a reflection on themselves......hmm) a FALSE REALITY, a fabricated perception, the tendency to construct a false narrative to fill in the gaps that memory has blocked in trauma, and to also have a break with reality all together.
Another poster brought up Fight Club and that is a perfect example. I'd not thought of it in those terms but the gist of it is, the main character suffered from insomnia and became addicted to therapy groups that helped him to cry...but it was the catharsis he needed, not the actual groups. What transpired, however, is the introduction of a love interest and his inability to establish a productive, healthy relationship, as she was as messed up as he was. Ultimately that combination, not through drug abuse but addictive personalities in particular, what transpired was that he had a break with reality.
He created an alter ego of sorts that, through the entire movie we presume is some vagrant lunatic he met on the plane that introduced him to the concept of letting go of the baggage and expectations and just experiencing his pain, which they did through establishing "fight clubs" where guys could let out all their pent up aggression by beating the shit out of each other under carefully constructed rules...it is not about hate, it's about catharsis. The fight clubs became all the rage with men and these clubs were springing up around the country...much to the main guy's dismay because that's not at all what he had in mind.
Eventually the pieces click and he realizes he was doing it himself the entire time. All the people he met know him, not his imaginary other self and while there was no real resolution other than a failed painful attempt to shoot himself to make the alt go away, the story was effective because the audience believed it was that other guy losing his mind when it was the main guy becoming splintered and creating false reality because he wasn't dealing with it.
THAT is the conditions ripe for Darby to fall into a similar situation.
Fangs ODd.
Rohan's pacemaker failed and he had a heart attack.
Sian died of an infection or blood loss or whatever it is.
Darby's trauma, baseline intoxicated state of mind, the insomnia, the obsession, the drug abuse, the alcohol abuse could have already been enough that she simply could not cope.
A lot of people have suggested, rightly so, that because of the probabilities alone, Bill would've almost certainly died in the basement and they felt she was rewriting history to some degree...because what is lame and unrealistic across the board is that a serial killer would have stood there at all long enough to hear her rattle off his victim's names and become so guilt ridden and remorseful he'd shoot himself instead.
But the frames of them appearing to crawl out of the basement amid a mess of blood seems to be what occurred, which is how they survived. It's utterly improbable and unrealistic and stupid.
People went into this from a realistic frame...in that in the real world that killer would've ended them both on the spot and either gotten away, or been killed. Then we move into the sci fi arena of reanimation or simulation or coma or whatever to explain how Bill is alive and all the resort stuff is happening and what it's about...all because a serial killer would've sooner shot them both than himself.
It is not at all unreasonable to suggest that all of these conditions caused Darby to rewrite history to cope instead of dealing with it.
Whether she's actually at a real retreat invited by a rich tech billionaire, who knows. But a solid case can be made that even that is prone to fabricated, false reality. When it is done right, it works, and the audience is all over it.
Fight Club was a brilliant movie for its time because of that unexpected twist and how artfully it was done.
The Sixth Sense was also a similar approach to a false reality where the main character has no idea he's not seeing things clearly.
Moon Knight is another example.
I DO NOT KNOW that's the case here. I posted the theory to explore and discuss. Some can get on board and see it, others are not on board. I dismiss the adderall lovers because their reasons have nothing to do with the show and everything to do with how dare I suggest their favorite drug might cause hallucinations...and that's their issue, not the show's.
I have posted a number of interesting theories as possibilities to explore and have not once, not the first time declared THIS IS WHAT IS HAPPENING. I've always, always suggested YMMV but what about this as a possibility, and here's all the reasons I can see this being the case.. Then other people come in and either successfully counter it with realistic rebuttals or they throw nonsense in the mix or disagree because that isn't the show they want.
Right now, what I can say with a fair amount of certainty, is that the only POV we're able to see through is Darby's. If you've not noticed already, there has never been a single scene where other characters are doing anything without Darby in the room. WE are Darby. Somebody mentioned elsewhere that the camera is often behind her...like she's being watched. I think that is for our benefit, we are seeing things as she sees them.
But guess what.
We're five episodes in, the series is nearly finished, and Darby hasn't figured out squat.
And neither have any of us.
Darby doesn't even seem to have a single theory to begin with. She's utterly baffled.
And we are all over the place with countless possibilities because of it.
Darby IS an unreliable narrator and because of this reality and fact, we can only just go along for the ride and see what happens. The show has deliberately prevented us from figuring anything out....OR....there is nothing to figure out, this is straightforward, sloppily done, just watch and make up your mind if you liked it or not in a couple weeks.
Because she is an unreliable narrator, which is the base foundation for the above mentioned movies and shows, you cannot just disregard it, downplay it, ignore it, just because you really love your Adderall. I can only presume it's prescribed by a doctor and you're not getting it from truck stops and snorting it.....
I WISH I had a pet theory. So far the only one I keep coming back to is two Lees...clone, alt, droid, twin, most probably twin...to explain what is going to otherwise be shitty writing and mistakes.
Again, YMMV.........
At the end of the day, A Murder At The End Of The World might actually be what we see is what we get. This girl did get invited for some reason, the war of the Ronsons is playing out, there's a killer on the loose and Darby has to save the day. Go girl!
​

I'm In Love With My Co-Worker
I'm 19, almost 20 and identify as non-binary. The co-worker I've fell for is 18 and male. We'll call him "V". V had been working at our job for several months before I came into the picture.
We work closing shifts together. It's a restaurant, so V closes in grill while I close in service. This usually means he's cleaning whatever remnants of food are left at the end of the day, and I do the dishes and the mopping. Because our restaurant is fairly small, we're always in each other's line of sight.
I've been working with V for three months now. On the day we first met, he immediately took me under his wing and kept me close, showing me what I should and shouldn't do and providing any tips or tricks he had learned since working there. Our conversations were mostly work related at first, but slowly became more personal, going into topics like our interests and plans for our days off. I started showing my true colors, making jokes occasionally and opening up to him about what made me start working there, things like that- the first time I made him laugh, I knew I was done for.
V had a roommate. We'll call her A. A happens to be a manager at our restaurant. And a total b-word.
A manipulated me into thinking she was my friend. She was typically one of the first to help me with any task, gave me things to do when we weren't as busy and told me which employees were and weren't considered reliable. I thought I could trust her because she was in management. Turns out, her role in the restaurant did not reflect who she is as a person.
V and A are no longer roommates when she starts to catch on that I have feelings for him. Note that they've never been romantically involved with each other (that I know of), but A is dating V's best friend. A takes it upon herself to encourage me to go for V. So I do; I get his number and we start talking outside of work.
Not even a week later, A starts mentioning a girl V has been talking to. This girl had never come up in conversation before. V would later confirm that yes, he was talking to someone. And suddenly, my feelings for him turned to feelings of dread. Unknowingly, I had been texting a man who's someone else's boyfriend.
Turns out that even just being in the same room as him was upsetting his girl. A few weeks ago, V and A and I were all on the same closing shift. I'm halfway through the dishes when my phone goes off. Thinking it might be an urgent text from one of my parents, I quickly check my messages. It's not my parents; it's V's girlfriend.
V would later deny that he ever gave his girlfriend my number. Whether or not that's the truth, I don't know, as A had my number too and could have easily been the one who gave it to her. I was crushed by the things she said, berating me just for being alive, having stalked my social media and judging me for everything from my appearance to my personality. I had never said a single bad thing about her to anyone and had left V alone, so this was all rather shocking.
I cried in the back room that night. A sent me home rather quickly. Things changed after that. My hours started to get cut, to the point I've only been working two four-hour shifts a week if I'm lucky, which is no where near enough to be paying the bills. But this past week, something changed; I don't know what, but it did.
V requested to start closing with me again during the week, so this week I've had a shift almost every night. V has been weirdly close to me, and hasn't mentioned his girlfriend once since we're started closing together again. Last night in particular, temperatures were far below freezing here and he would run orders out to parked cars for me just to keep me out of the cold. He brought dishes from the grill to the sink and washed them himself to ease my workload. And what pains me about this is that his little gestures have my heart fluttering again.
My mom has met him and insists there's more to this than meets the eye. She keeps telling me about how he always looks at me a certain way. What she means by that, I do not know. But my guard remains up because I don't know what his relationship status looks like.
I'm closing with V and A again tonight for the first time since the night I got those texts. I'm terrified. Other co-workers have murmured about A's tendency to start crap just because she can. I don't want to lose V again because of any drama that I most certainly don't want to be a part of.
And even if all we ever are is friends, V still means the world to me. I would do anything if it ensured his happiness. I don't think he'll ever fully understand just how much his presence makes my nights so much easier to get through. I wanna tell him I love him every time I see him, but I don't think that's ever going to happen.
So I suppose, weirdly, strangers are reading my love letter to V. Because despite everything, V is still V, and I love him the way he is. I want to continue to let our friendship grow, but I don't know that that's ever going to happen, if his girlfriend is still in the picture. I will do anything for him, even if that means letting him be happy with someone else.

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a boob should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The boob, of course, flies anyway because boobs don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Coming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Can you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - boob-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished boobs, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary. Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a boob, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of boob existence. These boobs are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. - What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Oan anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most boob jobs are small ones. But boobs know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that boobs, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're boobs. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Oheck it out. - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. boobs make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you boob enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt boob, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A boob died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt boob, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, boobs cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root boobr being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, boob law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check. - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow! Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Oool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those? Oopy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Ohemical-y. Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of boobs! Oandy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Ooming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him? - I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a boob in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, boob. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny! What are you doing?! Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! boob going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for that... ...kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! boob! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure! There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All right, here it goes. Nah. What would I say? I could really get in trouble. It's a boob law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Oome on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a boob! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a boob. - Yeah. I'm talking to a boob. And the boob is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. boobs are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway... Oan I... ...get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Ooffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Oome on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a boob joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has boobn great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Oan I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she boob-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a boob law. You wouldn't break a boob law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! We're not dating. You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking boob, my friend. Thinking boob! - Thinking boob. - Thinking boob. Thinking boob! Thinking boob! Thinking boob! Thinking boob! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking boob? How much longer will this go on? It's boobn three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a boob! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything? All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's boob-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. Dumb boobs! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Oute boob, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - boobs make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! boobs don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. - You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset boobs! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Orazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no! - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, boob! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - boob! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, boob boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours. - boobs hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, boob! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A boob's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads! Pinhead. - Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. "They make the honey, and we make the money"? Oh, my! What's going on? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't last too long. Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! That's a drag queen! What is this? Oh, no! There's hundreds of them! boob honey. Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor. Do these look like rumors? That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. How did you get mixed up in this? He's boobn talking to humans. - What? - Talking to humans?! He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! Make out? Barry! We do not. - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on? The boobs! I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than boobs! Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. I remember that. What right do they have to our honey? We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! Even if it's true, what can one boob do? Sting them where it really hurts. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt. - No. Up the nose? That's a killer. There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. No more boob beards! With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Weather with Storm Stinger. Sports with Buzz Larvi. And Jeanette Ohung. - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Ohung. A tri-county boob, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on boob Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book, Olassy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"? boobs have never boobn afraid to change the world. What about boob Oolumbus? boob Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The boob community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the boob century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em. Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live. Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? Quiet, please. Actual work going on here. - Is that that same boob? - Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, boob. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so difficult?! You poor thing. You two have boobn at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has boobn a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? boobs have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. boobs must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeyboob can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the boob team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. All right. Oase number 4475, Superior Oourt of New York, Barry boob Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all the boobs of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking boob! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Oloning! For all we know, he could be on steroids! Mr. Benson? Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary boob. Honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all boobs. We invented it! We make it. And we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take it from us 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have but everything we are! I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! Oall your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide boobkeepers for our farms. boobkeeper. I find that to be a very

Apologies for the long post. I just really need a rant and to just feel listened too for once.
So before the birth of my child, my partner and I discussed the rules we wanted to implement for our child. These were: ▪️Please don't kiss him, even on the head or cheeks. ▪️If you're ill or been near someone ill please don't ask to hold him or come round to our house. ▪️Please do not pick him up without asking or without permission, especially if we are in the room. If we are out of the room and he is crying, then this is the only expectation. ▪️Please do not just take him from us or if we ask for him back, give him back. ▪️Please do not post pictures on social media of our son, without asking permission first.
So far, since my son has been born, (5 weeks premature too - which makes the first rule even more important) my MIL has done all of the above. I was very clear with my side of the family about the rules during my pregnancy and they abide by them. However, something tells me that the same message didn't get given to my partner's side of the family either that or she is just blatantly ignoring them.
She kissed him just moments after we brought him home from 5 days in the NICU. We asked her not too when she entered the house and she just laughed at us and said "You're joking aren't you? And I regularly catch her doing it when she holds him. She sits next to his bassinet when he's in it and picks him up whenever he cries/stirs even though one of us is in the room or we know it's him in active sleep. She will expect to hold him whenever she is around him and won't let anyone else have him until she leaves. She takes him off of me to feed him/change him and even takes over his pram when out with her, by putting her hands on the handle over mine, especially when we walk into somewhere public like a shopping centre. She took over my partner introducing his son to his brothers for the first time by taking the car seat out of his hands and stating that the uncles should come and meet their nephew ( I was absolutely fuming at this and my SO just let it happen). She makes comments on how it's other people's turn to hold my son when one of us has him. She just blatantly interferes - just the other week I put my son's bottle down to burp him and she picked it up and moved it over to the kitchen table and I had to ask for it back. And today she has gone and made a post about how it is my son's due date, without permission, or even tagging us, on her very public Facebook page - like it's her child. She also had to make her own announcement when he was born but she has never done any of this for her other two grandchildren (non blood related as she remarried).
The one thing that has really annoyed me the most is that we are having a "meet x" day this Sunday. This is because my SO's family have yet to meet him and they are a really big family. This was again his mother's idea that she kept pushing and we were pressured to say yes because she kept reminding us that his side were wanting to meet him. She then keeps making comments that refer to my son being passed around and how she hopes I'm ready for it. I told her I wasn't comfortable with this as he is only 5 weeks old, premature and I simply don't know where people have been or who they have been around. It's the height of cold and flu season. She basically turned round and told me that everyone was expecting a cuddle, that it's going to happen and I should just basically get on with it. My SO said nothing during this conversation. Would she really potentially sacrifice her newborn grandchilds health so she can parade him around and show him off like some toy? I then spoke to my other half about it when we got home and I made him promise that my son should only be picked up by either me or him or left in his pram. I have such anxiety about Sunday as I just know his mother will try to take him straight away and just parade him around to everyone and do not want my SO will just sit back and not stand up for me 🙃🙃
These are just some of the things that have happened in the short 5 weeks that our son has been earth side. If I listed everything, I'd be here all day.
I've tried speaking to my partner on multiple occasions but I feel that nothing is changing or will change. I'm also aware that it is his mother and that my constant nagging must be starting to take its toll. However, I strongly believe that because it is his mother, it should come from him. It's starting to cause some serious issues for me and is really starting to affect me mentally. Some days I'm left feeling unsupported and incredibly down and like his mother doesn't respect me or us as parents, at all. I should be allowed to enjoy my newborn bubble but I really feel like I can't at the moment 😞😞

I’ve been trying hard this year to really get down to the root of my problems since a heartbreaking, tumultuous breakup happened earlier this year. I’ve only recently started to figure why what happened happened by the end of this relationship. How my trauma truly affects my relationships and how I’ve become a toxic person to be in a relationship because of it. My CSA/adult SA, my domestic, emotionally neglectful, verbally abusive household has impacted me far more than I’d have liked to think and of course, because of this relationship ending literally everything has come to the surface. I hate myself for how it all started to affect me by the end of my relationship. I became a jealous, needy, controlling, incommunicable asshole because of it. When I really started uncovering everything is when it all happened and my brain decided to push the self-sabotage button because of it. She helped me discover memories and situations that were completely not ok that I thought were normal and I am so grateful to her because without that I wouldn’t be on this soul journey.
But I just hate myself for how I acted when things were uncovering. I was constantly going fight-freeze-fawn, abandonment issues skyrocketed, flashbacks and buried emotions coming out of nowhere, my anxious attachment and codependency ran wild, resentment ran high, my parents were (are) verbally abusing me and that made me act out, and my friends were constantly triggering me and shutting me down in the worst ways possible with their toxic behaviors, lying about my emotions, I was a brick wall towards her or emotionally bombing her like a rollercoaster and our sex life took an immediate nose dive. Through therapy I’ve discovered how much of a self saboteur I am because I just simply hate myself for what happened and think I don’t deserve love because of it and how it all affects me so much. This isn’t an excuse for what I did in the slightest, I did and said a lot of shitty things because I didn’t communicate and try to work on this, instead I shoved it in the back of my head like how I’ve been doin since I was a small child but it just overflowed because my head could only hold so much of it in. Then when it ended I really went off my fucking rocker, everything went up tenfold and I couldn’t handle it in the slightest, I am so absolutely ashamed and disgusted with myself on how I would not leave her alone after we were done. My safe place was gone, and my head felt on fucking fire, even though I never should have put that on her I subconsciously did, and I could not let go for the life of me which led me to do really shitty things that I hate myself for.
I should’ve been the one to communicate everything that I was feeling with her and I’m so sad that I didn’t because we could’ve at least tried to work things through if I was the slightest bit of an emotionally stable adult. I was just so scared, I was so scared that I was crying every night in bed just hugging a pillow and nosebleeds and snotting all over the thing. I’ve learned so much but it’s also really just dawned on me how this is going to be a lifelong battle and to tell you the truth it scares me, I love being in love with my friends and family and people and love interests as I am a hopeless romantic for the world and I just want to bring happiness to it because of how wronged I was, but it’s so disheartening how what I went through is going to make it so difficult to be loved and give that love back. I wish I could’ve told her all this but I guess I just didn’t know better with what was happening. I just wish I could show her all of this.

When I was young, my family would always gather together at the ancestral manor home for Christmas. My family is and has always been a part of the upper crust of society, as a few of my more...let's say spoiled aunts would like to say.
Where was I? Oh, Christmas. We would gather together and spend the last two weeks of the year together. Celebrating Christmas and New Year's, before we would go our separate ways and I would not see a majority of them again until Thanksgiving.
Unless some great emergency pulled all of us together, the last one of those was the death of my great-grandmother. The tradition was older than I was, and I always looked forward to Christmas when I was a child. The manor was always so breathtakingly beautiful at Christmas, decorated from one end to the other.
The smell of cookies and cakes seemed to always waft throughout the house, the clinking of dishes and boisterous laughter from the kitchen while Christmas dinner was being cooked. The snow sparkled inches and feet deep in spots just begging to be played in, woods to explore and play in.
My cousins and I would often slide down the manors' long hallways in our socks falling, slipping, and laughing all the way. That usually ended up with one of us either crashing into something or getting hurt. Or breaking something and getting scolded by an adult for at least fifteen minutes. I think the worst that ever happened was one of us broke an arm and he had to go to the hospital and he spent Christmas in a cast.
Those memories were so precious, and while I treasure them deeply. I cannot say I miss the manor, not now. Now that I know the truth. The tale I am about to weave may sound like pure fiction to any who hears or reads this, but believe me on nothing else but this, it is the truth.
Keep yourself in your cocoon of false safety, if it pleases you. Keep your ignorance, but this is the truth. Two decades of growth, the pains of puberty, and a King's ransom spent on therapy, hypnosis, Shamans, and every spiritual remedy on the planet.
And not one of them has brought me any semblance of peace.
My tale begins on a snowy December eve, 4 days from that most magical of nights. That year my best friend Caroline and her mother had come along with my family for Christmas. The day had been filled with joy and laughter, we'd played in the hills of snow all day and long into the evening.
We meaning Caroline and I, along with my horde of cousins, and some kid we found in the street (my brother) played in the woods bordering the back end of the property. We played games in the woods not minding the danger of being in the forest so near dusk.
We played there until my Great-grandfather who'd been born in Germany and only came to the States when he was Four, he was pushing ninety-one. But, he was still, to quote my Grandmother, 'spry as a banny roster.' He called us away from the woods, telling us it was getting too late and the woods were too thick and it was getting too dark to explore them today.
Hearing our groans of disappointment and the general sounds of a group of young, curious children being denied an adventure. Great-grandfather smiled and with the patience of a saint, he reminded us we would be there for two solid weeks and we would have plenty of time to go exploring when there was more light.
He shooed us back onto the snow where we continued to play under his watchful eyes.
We were called into the house late into the evening, the sun was finishing its descent below the skyline. The adults rushed all the children into separate bathrooms in the expansive manor home. When we were washed, warmed up in a new pair of Christmas pajamas (another tradition).
We were fed a dinner of chicken soup from scratch to chase away any remaining chills. Once we finished eating we were quickly herded into the large living area, where hot chocolate waited and platefuls of Christmas cookies waited.
We settled in for a round of Christmas movies, it was the adults' way of trying to get the kids to calm down and unwind before bed. I hardly paid attention to the movie, my attention was on Caroline. She'd more reserved than usual, so I waited till everyone was absorbed in the movie to ask her what was wrong.
I suspected it had to do with the fact her parents were getting a divorce, Caroline had told me about it at school. Her face wet with tears, crying about how it wasn't fair. I knew them telling her about it so close to Christmas didn't help.
When I suggested she write to Santa to ask him if he'd make her parents happy again, she said four words I'll never forget. The four words that in hindsight? They changed everything.
"Santa Clause isn't real."
After she made that statement, I called my best friend in the entire world a liar. She shrugged and said her dad had told after she'd handed her mother her letter to Santa. He'd Said:
"Don't be a stupid girl. There's no Santa Clause it's about time I told you the truth. You're too old to believe in all that childish nonsense anyway."
She told me about how our parents buy gifts all year round and hid them, then on Christmas morning they'll give them to us and claim Santa brought them. I told her she was wrong and that her dad was probably highly intoxicated when he'd said that and he hadn't meant it.
Caroline's dad had always drunk more than he probably should, but in those last few years he had ramped it up. He'd come home to his loving wife and Daughter completely trashed.
Caroline shook her head no, shoulders slumping, even more, making her look smaller than she was. Our rather one-sided conversation dissipated from there and grew into a heated shouting match. The adults pulled us apart when Caroline lunged for me, they separated us to keep further blows from being traded.
Caroline screamed at me that I wasn't her friend anymore, that real friends trusted each other. She screamed out her voice becoming shriller and more uncontrolled with each syllable she spit.
"I hate you! I hate you, I HATE YOUR STUPID PERFECT FAMILY! BUT MOST OF ALL I HATE CHRISTMAS!!!"
I gasped, hurt. Caroline knew how much Christmas meant to me, it was the only time of year, besides Thanksgiving I got to see my whole family. And she knew this year was hard on me, she knew I was going to be missing my Great- Grandma, my nanna. This was the first Christmas without her here.
I remembered laying in my uncle's arms near tears. He deposited me in my Great-Grandfathers lap, Papa let me bury my head into his cashmere sweater. He rubbed my back while he murmured words of comfort in German.
My Mother had discovered I was more comforted by German when I was just a baby. Papa could settle me just by talking to me, whenever I was stressed, or hurt, or panicking I was quickly handed off to Papa and he was in charge of soothing me before my anxiety swallowed me.
Papa's voice was just as strong as it had always been, and it quickly relaxed me. But there was a hint, an edge to his voice that was highly unusual. I remember looking up into his aged face, concern was etched across where his almost permanent smile should have been.
And I swore I saw a flash of terror in his weathered cerulean eyes. A family trait, everyone in the family had blue eyes, shades and tones changed but always blue.
"What's wrong Great-Grandfather?"
I asked using my still-developing German, but whatever I saw fled as quickly as I'd seen it. He patted my head, smiling brightly he replied in German.
"You are improving quickly, and nothing is wrong child."
Great-Grandfather looked over to where Caroline's Mother was comforting her and his eyes went very distant. When he spoke again his voice was barely a whisper, his voice came from a place very far away.
"Nothing at all."
**************************************************************
That night Caroline and I stayed in the same room, as my very extensive family and the two guests filled all the rest. We slept in separate queen beds, usually, when we had sleepovers in the past we would chatter quietly as we laid in bed waiting to fall asleep.
However, wanting to avoid any awkwardness, I placed my headphones over my ears. Soft classical Christmas music played while I read my book, studiously ignoring Caroline. I usually read until it was time for bed, and right on cue I pulled my headphones off marked my place in my book and flipped the light off.
Caroline flipped over in bed where her back was facing me, without even a goodnight. I rolled my eyes and flipped over to face the window, staring out at the pitch black. Soon after Caroline and I had our spat the wind picked up considerably and a massive blizzard began to rage outside the manor.
My cousins were excited about the new snowfall and the prospect of exploring the woods tomorrow. The Manor's old walls creaked and groaned against the on-slot of the wind and snow. The sound may have scared anyone else, but not me.
The walls and roof of the old manor had held for long before my birth, and somehow I knew they weren't ready to give up the ghost just yet.
Feeling secure, safe, and warm I drifted off to sleep.
**************************************************************
I don't remember why I woke or what woke me but I blearily opened my eyes and saw complete black. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, clearing them of sleep. I looked to my left out of the window seeing if the blizzard had subsided yet. Nope.
It wasn't just dark outside, it was as if I were looking straight into the depths of oblivion itself. I looked around the room, the only source of light were two strands of fairy lights draped around Caroline and I's headboards.
My eyes soon adjusted to the lack of light, looking to my right I saw Caroline was still asleep. So she hadn't woke me, and storms don't bother me anymore. I quickly noticed something else, it was bitterly cold in the room.
No. Not just cold, it was bone-shattering cold. So cold I could see my breath in front of my face. I shivered and pulled my blankets tighter around me, why was it so cold? Had the heater gone off? I burrowed further under the covers, searching for warmth.
I curled in on myself, wrapped myself in a cocoon, did anything to get warm. Finally, I found some relief, and I began to fall back asleep. I heard the wind increase in severity, I shivered. A sound caught my attention, it was quiet.
Just above the wind, barely decipherable, almost lost in the roar of the wind. It was a quiet sound of ....bells? It sounded like a hundred bells, all tinkling together in harmony. In my half-awake state, I briefly thought of Santa.
But Santa was not the one coming that year.
I sat up in bed again, I was shivering again. I couldn't sleep, it was too cold. I wrapped myself in my blankets and I hopped out of bed, the floor felt like a block of fridged ice. I shivered again, and I made my way to the door to go to my parent's room.
I wanted to get warm. I gripped the doorknob which was so cold it almost burned. Just before I opened the door, I heard a sound up on the roof. I raised my eyes to the ceiling and raised an eyebrow, what was that? Did a tree limb fall on the roof?
There it was again, it sounded like....footsteps. Somebody was on the roof. My breathing grew heavier and quickened, my heart beat against my ribs, and blood rushed in my ears. Danger, my mind whispered, every survival instinct inside of me screamed all at once. Run, run, escape.
Now, more than ever, I wanted to be with my parents, I was eleven years old and I was terrified. Despite all of that though, escaping to my parent's room wasn't just for the safety of Mommy and Daddy. That's where Dad kept his guns.
One thing kept me from bolting from the room, I heard them again. The bells. Only they were louder this time as if they were coming from inside the room. I turned around, meaning to go wake Caroline and see if she could hear these things too.
Only I froze when I turned, my whole body locked up. I was so still I don't think I even breathed, and for once in my life, my mind stopped working. All the human instincts I had screamed at me about how wrong this was. About how wrong everything I was seeing was.
I was always a bright child, put in advanced classes, moved up grades, music lessons, reading books that should have been far beyond my comprehensive levels. I was more rational and more reasonable and more sensible than many children my age.
I often think about how it must have amused my parents to no end that, even at eleven years of age. The age when many children began to question things such as Santa Claus, and as bright as I was, I still had such steadfast belief in Santa.
Now though all of science and facts in the world couldn't help me. All the reason and rational thought, all of it vanished as I stared unblinking at what was in front of me. It was... What I can only describe as a monster. It was enormous, I could tell, even though it was hunched.
I could tell, it neared and more than likely surpassed Seven feet in height. The twisted spiraled ram-like horns it wore gave it an extra foot to foot and a half. So it was closer to eight and a half feet, the fur that covered the entirety of its body was black as a moonless night.
It was coarse, thick fur, like a boar, it stretched across it's hulking, massive frame. It stood on two strong legs that ended in cloven hooves, that were deadly shape points at the ends. A filthy, ragged cloak covered it's broad shoulders, underneath it a long heavy tail dragged along the floor behind it.
A hood hid its head, but I could see it's profile. I could see an elongated muzzle like a dog, it stretched into a sick smile. A smile that promised bloodshed and sickly evil deeds done over an eternity. While it smiled I could see every single one of its razer sharp teeth that lead to two impossibly long, impossibly sharp canines.
They were made to rip and tear and shred, they were so long I don't think it could close it's mouth entirely. A long, slimy, forked tongue slithered and hung out of its mouth, spittle ran down in globs and dripped down onto a dingy tangled beard.
Its eyes were yellow and the iris red, the color, and shade of blood. Wrapped around its body and clasped at its wrists were thick chains, every ragged breath the monster took caused them to tinkle...like...bells. Oh. Oh, God. The bells.
The ones I'd heard earlier, they weren't from Santa. They were a warning. They were a warning this thing was coming. The sound was melodic, beautiful, juxtaposed to what it heralded. Much like a battle horn, they were the herald of death.
The realization slapped me hard, along with the epiphany that I could die. So many thoughts raced through my mind at warp speed, I'd never get to apologize to Britney for accidentally implying she was fat. I'd never see my dogs again, I'd miss Christmas with my family.
My family.
The thought of my family caused panic that had been bubbling in my gut to spread to my chest cavity where it pressed on my lungs, making it nearly impossible to breathe. I was on the verge of a meltdown that would make Cherynoble seem tame.
My family, if this thing got out and it went after my family, what would it do? Why was it here? What did it want? Why-
My attention was drawn back to the beast when it shifted, chains tinkling like Christmas bells. Terror shut my mind and body down once more as the creature's hands were now visible, and I could see what it was doing. It loomed over Caroline's bed, holding her neck in a vice grip.
The skin of its hands resembled the skin of a buzzard's head after it had been exposed to much rotting flesh. Bare, black skin sagged and wrinkled, it's twisted knarled fingers ended in sharp, serrated nails.
My knees gave out and I fell to the floor causing a soft thud. The creature turned in my direction and cocked its head to the side like a dog studying a curiosity. Whimpering I scooted back till my back hit the door trying to put some distance between myself and this thing.
It slowly made its way toward me studying me, I pressed myself harder against the door. Hoping if I pressed myself hard enough I would fuse with the wood. I saw my friend's face, screwed into a silent scream of terror, her eyes were bugged out and her skin was ashen grey.
As the beast drew closer, the temperature in the room plummeted. I felt myself getting frostbite, my teeth chattered. I screwed my eyes closed and I prayed to any God that would listen.
"Please, please let it be a dream. Please go away, please."
I covered my eyes with my hands and curled up in the fetal position, as the beast came closer. I heard it growl, I peeked through my fingers, and it held out Caroline to me as if offering me her corpse. It held her in one hand, with the other it drove a massive meat hook into her body.
It took the chain and wrapped it around her, once, twice, three times. Before it used it to strap her lifeless body to its back. Like she was a human accessory, a sick version of a backpack. It leaned down and heaved a breath of disgusting hot breath in my face.
It smelled like a rancid mixture of rotting meat, feces, and vomit. It gave a wave with its hand, still smiling that sick, grotesque smile. In an amazing burst of agility, it hauled itself up onto the thin window sill where it balanced for a quick moment before bounding out into the darkness.
When it was gone my body began to unlock, beginning with my mind. Why? Why didn't it kill me too? Why did it leave me alive? I can Identi- I came to a hard realization, it wanted me alive. It came here specifically for Caroline, it wanted her for some reason.
Caroline
Oh God! My mind began to try and process what had happened in what turned out to be fifteen minutes, but to me, it felt like an eternity. The cold was retreating leaving the room feeling warmer and my limbs began to come back to life.
With the retreat of the cold, came the breaking of my mind. Processing all that had just happened proved to be too much for my small young mind to handle. So my mind fractured and I began to scream.
**************************************************************
My family burst into the room, my mother picked me up off the floor and held me close as I continued to scream. She began asking why I was so cold and trying her best to comfort me. My Father held both of us, he tried as well to comfort me but failed to do so.
I kept screaming.
My family demanded to know what was wrong, Caroline's Mother Screaming demands to know where her daughter was. I pointed to the open window, still screaming. The first rays of dawn illuminated the sky, creating a masterpiece as colors danced across the sky.
In the lighting, you could see on the window sill two perfect hoofprints sat in the snow gathered on the sill. My Great-grandfather ran to the window and began to yell out curses in German. He slammed the window closed and turned to face his family.
He marched across the room and took me from my parents, he began to quiet me. Slowly I fell into a catatonic state, My family gathered around him. Demanding to know just what had happened, he looked around the room.
His gaze touched each one of his descendants and he only said one word.
"Krampus"
At the sound of its name, I began to scream again.
​
******************************************
​
There was an investigation and a manhunt, search parties scoured the property for days trying to find a trace of Caroline. They found nothing. Not that I expected them to. They found Caroline's body abandoned, she'd been left by a sewer grate.
Discarded like a piece of feated waste, she was miles from the manor. She was nude and... This I only learned years later but, she was missing her eyes. No arrests were ever made, not surprising. I was questioned by several officers, detectives, child psychologists, and everything in between.
I never said a word, in fact, I didn't talk for almost three years after the incident. Even after I began to talk again I never spoke about that night, not to anyone save for my therapist.
Now I'm married, with a Son and Daughter of my own, my family still comes together on the holidays. Only never at that manor again, after Caroline's murder, we sold the manor and it was left to rot. I'm writing this as a warning, if you hear the bells it is already too late.
I think Krampus has kept around me, every so often I will hear the bells. Sometimes they are barely discernible, others? They're deafening. Just a little reminder he's always there, always watching. He is sporadic with his visits, it's like he's blown in by the wild winter winds.
I have never heard the bells on Christmas again though, but I am worried.
This year is an important year my son is eleven this year, the very age I was when I met Krampus. I am worried this year my son's friend Gavin will be joining us for Christmas along with his Father who is my husband's best friend.
Gavin is much like Caroline, his parents are divorcing, his Mother is a severe Achohlic, and his outlook on Christmas is very pessimistic. I tried to refuse but my husband went ahead and invited them without consulting me. By the time I was told, it was too late.
So here in my office, I sit, on the week before Christmas, here in the dark worrying. While my family sleeps, safely tucked away for the night. I can vaguely hear the blizzard raging outside, it's gaining strength every hour. The wind roars blowing the snow against the house.
My husband comes to me before he heads to bed, I kiss him goodnight, knowing it would bring up unanswerable questions I hide how angry I am at him. I sit here in my office, a shotgun loaded and sitting in my lap as I stare up at the ceiling I am listening intently. Dreading to hear anything other than the wind, the grandfather clock chimes midnight.... the electricity goes off ... and there they are... barely discernable above the wind...
​
I can hear the faintest sound of bells...

I was down to 377 back in September from 390, and now I’m at 394.8 lbs. I went to the mall yesterday and by the end of it I was struggling hard. I was breathing heavy, my legs hurt, and I wanted to cry. I pushed through and made it to the car (my partner did offer to bring the car to me, but I refused).
I want to lose the weight. I want to lose about 200 lbs. Everything just feels so far away and I feel like I will never reach that goal.
I seriously can’t believe I was out of breath and hurting just from walking around the mall. I do 20 min on the treadmill 2-3x a week and do some weight training. So I’m shocked that I was that way??
I just, aaa!
Thanks for listening to this rant

is it like far cry 5,6 where a freaking boar has a health bar or like far cry 3,4?

I have been at the same job for 10 years. I am a loyal employee who works hard and makes personal sacrifices to do the best i can. 6 months ago I got all new bosses. I have tried the best I can, and i ​​thought I was doing well. Yesterday may manager told me I have a preformance problem and the new doctor is unhappy with my work. I was completely taken by suprise. She blamed me for not knowing because and I ​don't ask for feedback. I assumed he would tell me if something was wrong. We have new people in our department and in know, even though they have far less experience, he prefers them. Best part is, its my birthday and I'm told I need to shape up or ship out. I feel so guilty because my family wants to celebrate and i​ have been crying in my bed for 24 hours. I feel like i don't deserve anything good. We are struggling financially and I ​have to go back onto work Monday and somehow put a smile on my face.

Is it normal and okay to sometimes doubt the existence of God?
For context I'm a convert who was not raised in a religious household. So far I am not baptized, but my parish priest and I are working towards my baptism.
Since beginning to attend mass over a year ago I've had the very occasional time where I've doubted God's existence, I dont recall having doubts before starting to attend mass. I think it comes from seeing how devout others are and I just kind of feel like I'm missing something.
I had a pastoral chat with my parish priest months ago and he asked me how my relationship with God is. I had a very hard time opening up about it and ended up just crying the entire 2 hours I was there, which was extremely embarrassing.
Sometimes I feel like God does speak to me through scripture or through videos I watch related to the faith. Certain things just resonate with me sometimes, or certain passages stick out. But I think I have a very hard time hearing Him.
Recently I started the process to work towards baptism and have just completed watching an educational video series my Priest asked me to watch. I was very excited to finish the videos and move forward, but a few days after completing the videos I've become very doubtful. I don't want to doubt God's existence, but every time I try to think of an experience I've had with God I just end up thinking maybe I'm just crazy or I'm just convincing myself God was speaking to me because I want that relationship so badly.
Is it normal to doubt like this? I'm sorry for the long post, I'm just afraid to bring this up with my parish priest because I've already embarrassed myself before and I'm also afraid he might think I'm not serious about being baptized.

This is a long but true story.
For my emotions to make sense, I feel like we should go back in time to 2007. My father had just moved us here because there was a war in our country. We only packed clothes and the few dollars my father had to his name in cash. We arrived and settled in a cozy three-bedroom apartment, one of four in the complex and the entire compound.
There was a family above us with children around our age, and my siblings made friends with them (I was far too shy to speak). One of the kids, a girl three years older, started coming over to our place because my mom made excellent beignets, and that's how we became friends.
Time went by, we started school, and it started to not feel as strange. One day, the girl came over and asked if we wanted to play. After a few rounds of hide and seek and skipping rope, everyone was tired and seated on the pavement. Smaller banter started, and she pointed out that, out of the four houses, we were the only ones without a car. At 7-8 years old, it was weird to hear because it had never been said to me before. The conversation turned into that for a while, and she also pointed out that we never go out, and if we do, it would be Uhuru Park (man, I miss those boat rides).
The other kids started laughing at us and talking about all the cool places they had been to and what their parents got them. This cut a bit deep, and it was the first time I felt so inferior.
At the time, my father was a proper hustler, selling beans in Kampala and hitching rides to get here and see us for a few days before going back. He was also doing a few other small businesses on the road (he created photo albums).
The next time he came to visit, I asked him why we didn't have a car when all our neighbors did. I still remember this to this very day: "And how come we only buy eggs once a month, and we only get to eat one per person?" When I think about it now, I cannot imagine the amount of strength he had to muster to tell me it was to keep us healthy.
Regarding the car, he said we would have one in 2-3 years. Being very excited, I decided to tell my friend that, and she said we would see. After that, she would point out what we ate and what they ate. She always made it a point to tell me they had drinking chocolate and eggs at home (this was peak richness to me), and she basically kept telling everyone they were richer than we were.
Fast forward three years, and we still didn't have a car. This became the only thing she talked about, going as far as calling my father a liar. My father is a lot of things, but a liar isn't one of them. This really hurt me, and I did not leave the house for about a month.
Now, a couple of years later, my father had started a company that had just caught a tiny break, allowing us to move to a bigger house, from a three-bedroom to a five-bedroom. This was huge for us, and he really tried to make sure we constantly had groceries in the house (drinking chocolate and eggs too). My first weekend there, my mom made a very good breakfast for us (bread, Blueband, eggs, beignet, and tea), and damn, we were so happy.
Since we hadn't moved far, it was easy to bump into my friend, which I did. She asked to come see the new place, I said why not, brought her home, and then we chilled in my shared room. She did not talk much, but when she left, she never came back despite me asking her to come, and she stopped letting me in when I went over.
Now the present. We started talking again when we met on the road, and it would be her just telling me about her boyfriends and the guys who wanted her every time we met.
A couple of months ago, my adopted godmother (the friend’s mom) unfortunately passed away. This wrecked everyone I know who loved her. I was very shocked and cried every night for a couple of weeks after that.
It turns out she was sick and died in the hospital. My mother did not tell me about the sickness, only about the death. She claimed that she knew that telling me would make me very anxious and that I would want to spend all my time at the hospital, given the fact that my grandfather, my very best friend, and counselor, died in the hospital, and I couldn’t go see him because I couldn’t walk (a weird brain issue that makes me randomly lose mobility in my limbs). She was right, but I hated her for a while for not telling me.
On that day, I went over to their place, and we (the friend, her siblings, and I) had a good time. We talked about all the good memories, and it was beautiful. I asked them what they needed help with mostly, and they said dishes. So, for the next six days, I made it a point to go there after my exams, spend as much time with them, do the dishes, and then go home.
Every time I went, of course, we had to talk about her men, and then one night, the conversation changed, and she started talking about how I cut them off when my father caught a break. She said that I am now walking on clouds, I don’t like people, and that we were never truly friends. She claimed I just wanted to eat at their place. And then she goes on to say that the reason why I do not invite them over is that I do not see us as equals and that I think I am better than them. I was so confused.
It was around midnight on a Friday, so I was spending the night. She and I were to share a bed in the living room. Her male cousin took the couch, and the sister and younger siblings occupied the rooms. After her moment of truth, her boyfriend called, so it was me and the cousin. We caught up on life (we were good friends as kids), and we reminisced about the good old days.
Her phone call ended, and she called me, and we started talking about her men again. Then she got another call, and the cousin and I continued with our conversation. A couple of hours later, I am ready to sleep, but she has occupied the entire bed, and the cousin offers me his couch. In the morning, she was livid and said that I should just tell her the truth and that I had only been going there to see her cousin. I felt very insulted (A LOT happened from there, but she basically started attacking me and the cousin).
The cousin had a dog that liked me, and she claimed it must be because the cousin and I hung out and played with the dog behind her back.
Now, I did not react because I understand how grief can hit you bad. Heck, I was still grieving my grandfather. She also told her friends who would visit that the cousin and I might have slept together or that we were going to. And then she got mad that I decided I wanted to sleep at home because I had a paper the next day and told me if I chose to leave, then it would mean I
am not truly her friend because she needed me then, but I could not be there.
After a while, the burial arrived, but it was out of town, and I was still doing my exams, so I couldn't go. Still, I visited every day and did my duties, along with some shopping here and there.
A while later, one night, I was scribbling on a paper because I wanted to write, but instead, all I could think of was her and all the hurtful things she had said to me until then. Then I remembered my grandfather, who was always the voice of reason when shit hit the fan.
This is where my emotions come in. When my grandfather died in January, right after the new year, it nearly killed me. I was very vocal about his death, wrote a few poems that I posted about him, and so on. She viewed all of them, but not once did she say, "Sorry for your loss."
One day she called, and I thought it was it, but she just wanted to borrow money. I told her I had contributed all my money towards my grandpa’s burial, and then she said, "Oh, I saw on your status he died," and that was it.
And then I remembered all the times I was sick, damn near deathly sick, but she would not even say a simple hello unless I did. Or the time my best friend died, and she did not even pretend to offer condolences. But I was the bad guy because I had to sleep at home to be able to do my paper.
This has turned into more of a rant than anything else. Nothing in particular has happened, but it’ll be my first Christmas without my grandfather, and I am genuinely not okay. That reminded me of everything I have just written. I texted her today to send my congratulations to her sister, and after I did, I remembered it all. It’s funny how our brains get triggered by things that seem very insignificant.
I feel like I have some hurt and resentment towards her that I do not know how to deal with, but on the other hand, I feel like I am simply emotional and will be okay soon after the holiday season is over.
I am also doing my final exams and it reminded me of how my grandfather and best friend, both gone now, really pulled their weight to help me realize that dyslexia doesn't make me stupid or dumb and all the time they invested in me when my dyslexia was confirmed (I have tools in place that have been working so far.).
To celebrating our lost loved ones and all the love they showed us that still cuddles us at night. cheers!

I recently blocked my frd on snap .. before that I blocked her on insta ...because I realized we are not on equal terms in our friendship , the friendship dynamics is not how I thought it was ...I considered her as my bestie but may be doesn't feel the same about it .. it feels like she is my frd, and I'm her just another frd . We met in high school ( boardingschool )& were together for 2 yrs in same frd circles , after that we grew a lot closer and our friendship grew but after almost 2 or 3 yrs we met when I went to her house for 2 to 3 days it was all good but she wasn't talking to me much it was like I was just there and we went to a workshop together with her sister and some other friend ... I thought it would be fun but no I didn't enjoy those 2 days and then we me and my friend went out somewhere we clicked pics and were just sitting there but instead of talking to me , she vc her another frd and started talking to him instead ( we didn't talk much or do anything but I thought may that's how she is , we have met after so long I have to accept that that's how she like spending time with friends sitting in silence just vibing or whatever) but now she was talking to him and I was just sitting there ... but I just let that slide just not spoil the mood . Then few months later we again got a chance to meet but this time it was with the entire grp ( which is 4 grls including me) but after that I srsly never want to go there, we were going to attend school function as alumni and the whole evening i felt so left out and later that night same thing happened instead of talking to me she vc another frd and our other frds frd 1 left ( didnt stay over which we had planned andd frd 2 was busy on her phone the entire day not even at night she was talking to us properly .... still i was like it is okay then next day when i had to leave frd1 met us at the mall ( we went to shop for frd who I blocked) and she said let her drop her to station early then go out somewhere esle and i felt so bad i literally started crying because that was the last nail for me ... idk i felt so hurt ... that I will never never plan anything with them now. I feel like I literally traveled so far just to make me feel that way... I did talk to the main frd about that ... before leaving, but I didn't say anything about the VC thing because I was too hurt with what frd 1 had said, and other stuff didn't cross my mind . Later, after coming home, I tried figuring out what were the things that made me feel that bad and all ..... and I remember what Main frd did (vc) thing and how left out I felt ... after visiting my frds place we have only texted a couple of times and if I don't text she won't text or call either it was just one sided efforts.....Remembering whag happened and noticing all this made me realize I was the extra or other frd , so I'm trying to distance my self. I am feeling very bad, but I won't do things that are only gonna hurt me ... I didn't text her for 1 week and and finally, when she texted, I decided to block her.. I don't think there is any point in talking about this but it's very painful fir me cause she was the only frd I had ( with frd 1 and frd 2 I rarely talked after school) ... at home, I don't have any frds, and it's just not easy to connect to people, plus I have social anxiety... My frds are nice people, so I don't wanna cutting them off completely but would like to distance myself so that this friendship dynamic don't hurt me

REPOST AFTER A MINUTE TO CHANGE THE TITLE
I (19M) took the test 5 years ago, and I didn't accept the fact that I'm an emotional person; due to the way my father raised me to be objective thinker. So, "your are emotional" won't be the best word to say to me. But throughout the past years I took the exam more than 5 times, with the same result. This year I tried to be real objective (not too obvious to someone in my environment) and read the description of INFJ personality which I found convincing.
Lately, I fall in love (probably from one side) with a girl from my department in the university. She is the girl that is upto my standards, you know gorgeous, smart, strong, funny (mostl serious with othearound other guys).. etc. I know her for 2 years now, at the 1st year we didn't talk outside of the college projects or things like that. But this year is little bit different. After 4 months departure I realised that she is actually my type of person (I'm the one who refuses to be emotional about themselves if it right to say) and maybe she did too. At the first week she didn't attend college as she lives in a far city. In that week I missed her every day, and you could tell how my heart jumped when I hear her footsteps in the corridor.
Our first conversation this year made me think she likes me back; she asked me if I didn't notice her absence (which I did). So, being the silly me I said "no" which is the only lie I said for an entire year, I either talk the truth or keep silence. I know that is foolishness. We talked more and she said that "I was going to attend another university in my town, but I see this city has more potentials for me, and I also I like to bother you". My inner thoughts accelerated and the only response was a fucking smile from the ear to the other. The conversation ended with the doctor entering.
For the next weeks, we were assigned in more than one project, one of which was only me and her. We were talking casually without anything special. One time, a doctor asked for the groups to be in 5s and she insisted for me to be in her team. I realised that I didn't mention that me and another guy are the only male in the whole department, the rest are females.
The other guy is my friend and he is more social than me. He is in a relationship with her roommate at the previous year, both girls are best friends. And my friend's girl talk too much, so my friend knows more than me about her. He encouraged me a lot to be close to her as I was the guy who never believed he could find love (I told him little about me) and gave me tips, and I fucked up to say the least; I began talking to her on WhatsApp more and she is the one never respond, I saw her chat once and nearly every contact have a grean dot with two digits on it. But my way was more out of time if it safe to say; I sent her poems (Arabic poetry is more common for ordinary people that other languages, nearly no Arabian does no dozens of verses), memes I find funny and other things. Not long after, My guy me a lot about her family (religious like mine, but she is a girl so it is harder) and how they scolded her for making a birthday party for her female friend at the beach in the previous year. She is also religious and so I'm, which good for both. So, not long after I know that I forced myself to be less friendly with her. I was afraid that her family may hurt her if they knew that she is close to a guy. And so did she.
The marriage requirements in my country are high for even people at their 30s, not to mention me. So, proposal is difficult, but her family being religious may help as religious family in our country tends to be less strict on this side as they see marriage as better for "lovers". I was willing to take the risk as my family won't reject that, but her other friend in my department told me the same thing my guy friend told me before I confess that I love this girl: she strictly refuses marriage before college, and her family are ok with that. So, I didn't take this step, and more to this her and me begin to be less than people who knew eachother.
Now after accepting the fact that I did mistakes, I'm ok if she was actually just being nice and friendly. She is not idiot she is most likely know my feelings towards her. And she felt that she may hurt me to say that she doesn't like me back. I'm ok with that, but just going with this isn't enough for me, I know I can hold pain.
My questions: 1. Am I overthinking? 2. Do think she doesn't like me back and it is only on my head? (There more to say on this story so feel free to ask) 3. If your are a Muslim (others with similar traditions/ideals are welcomed, even non-believers) who faced a similar problem what have you done? 4. I don't know way this is 4th, but have you refused to accept that you are INFJ at the beginning too? (I saw a top comment about how some have cried) 5. Would say that what I've mentioned is something aligns with INFJ's nature? If not what do you think I'm?
All contributions are welcomed. Thanks for finishing my nagging in this binary space. Time to return to my study.

I recently blocked my frd A on snap .. before that I blocked her on insta ...because I realized we are not on equal terms in our friendship , the friendship dynamics is not how I thought it was ...I considered her as my bestie but may be doesn't feel the same about it .. it feels like she is my frd, and I'm her just another frd . We met in high school ( boardingschool )& were together for 2 yrs in same frd circles , after that we grew a lot closer and our friendship grew but after almost 2 or 3 yrs we met when I went to her house for 2 to 3 days it was all good but she wasn't talking to me much it was like I was just there and we went to a workshop together with her sister and some their friend ... I thought it would be fun but no I didn't enjoy those 2 days and then we me and my friend went out somewhere we clicked pics and were just sitting there but instead of talking to me , she vc her another frd and started talking to him instead ( we didn't talk much or do anything but I thought may that's how she is , we have met after so long I have to accept that that's how she like spending time with friends sitting in silence just vibing or whatever) but now she was talking to him and I was just sitting there ... but I just let that slide just not spoil the mood . Then few months later we again got a chance to meet but this time it was with the entire grp ( which is 4 grls including me) we were going to attend school function (as alumni)and the whole evening i felt so left out and later that night same thing happened instead of talking to me she ( frd A) vc her frd and our other frds - frd 1 left ( didnt stay over which we had planned) and frd 2 was busy on her phone the entire day not even at night she was talking to us properly .... still i was like it is okay then next day when i had to leave frd1 came to meet us at the mall ( we went to shop for frd A) and she said let her drop her to station early then go out somewhere esle and i felt so bad i literally started crying because that was the last nail for me ... idk i felt so hurt ... that I will never never plan anything with them now. I feel like I literally traveled so far just to make me feel that way... I did talk to the main frd about that ... before leaving, but I didn't say anything about the VC thing because I was too hurt with what frd 1 had said, and other stuff didn't cross my mind . Later, after coming home, I tried figuring out what were the things that made me feel that bad and all ..... and I remember what frd A did (vc thing) and how left out I felt ... after visiting my frds place we have only texted a couple of times and if I don't text she won't text or call either it was just one sided efforts.....Remembering whag happened and noticing all this made me realize I was the extra or other frd , so I'm trying to distance my self. I am feeling very bad, but I won't do things that are only gonna hurt me ... I didn't text her for 1 week and and finally, when she texted, I decided to block her.. I don't think there is any point in talking about this but it's very painful fir me cause she was the only frd I had ( with frd 1 and frd 2 I rarely talked after school) ... at home, I don't have any frds, and it's just not easy to connect to people, plus I have social anxiety... I don't want to cut them off because they are nice people, and I do connect with them .. I just want to distance myself so that I don't feel hurt or anything from this friendship dynamics...

I 16M met this girl 15F in a discord server, since we both were interested in programming, we became pretty close, almost like siblings, we’ve been friends since august 2021, and she got into a relationship with a guy in 2022, we share everything, but she didn’t tell me that she got into a relationship that too with a guy 3 years older than her and someone who’s bad at academics and basically an uneducated fuck who wants to have coitus with a girl 3 years younger than him, he made her block me, and things went so far that they went to a fuckin hotel together (why the fuck did the hotel staff even let them be alone together in a room?) he touched her genitalia and she just made him stop before they engaged into coitus, then they broke up and she came back to me crying and apologising and told me all this shit and said that he still stalks her and other shit, after sone time we became normal again, now a few minutes ago she told me that they’ve patched up and I’m just so pissed off right now, I tried my best explaining to her that he’s a prick and she should stay away from him, she even has fuckin boards in march, I love her and I genuinely care for her, she’s not understanding, she’s repeating her mistakes, she’s constantly saying that he’s changed and shit like that, my mental health heavily relies on her, i don’t have many friends, I don’t even have siblings, she’s the only person with whom I like talking to , but now I don’t want to talk to her, what should I do? How should I make her understand what’s right? And should I give up on her, if yes, then how should I cope up with the loneliness and stop missing her? I seriously think that I should let her parents know what she’s doing, I know they might beat the shit out of her, take away her gadgets and shit, but she’s repeating the same mistake, I think all this is better than what might happen in future, I know her exact address, one my cousin is an advocate in high court, should I send them a letter from the court?

I can’t even get a moment of rest in my apartment because my upstairs neighbors have a 5 year old son who at the risk of offending anybody on here needs Ritalin more than any kid I’ve ever met; he runs nonstop even going as far as doing it from 7 am to as late as 2am. You’d think this was an exaggeration and you’d think he’d get bored but he terrorizes his 2 year old little sister (an absolute screamer by the way) and their poor overstimulated 3 indoor cats by chasing them throughout every room in the house, elbow dropping from furniture, and clearly playing basketball like it’s a damn gymnasium. And they moved in a week after we renewed a 16 month lease! Goody. Tried telling the rental company and they said “these are normal community living sounds and you will just have to get used to living life around kids if you’re choosing to live in a community.” So the people upstairs have them wrapped around their fingers. I swear I feel like he’s my kid because I can’t get away from him. I even wear earplugs with mowing earmuffs and STILL HEAR IT ITS THAT BAD. When he cries it’s the worst. Anyway we confront the parents, they say “if we can deal with it, you can too. Don’t be dramatic it’s not a big deal”. I just wish they’d go back to New Jersey. I’m so tired. So much money a month just to deal with this and it’s way too much money to break a lease. I wish I knew enough about the legality of things to sue. And I can’t even go out in public because undisciplined kids and their delusional parents are everywhere.. it’s been 6 months of this. We ended up having to get bedbug treatment too because they brought them but that’s a story for another time 🤢

I(31F) have been looking into the possibility that I have ADHD for about a year now. For some background, I have a MAeD in Clinical mental health counseling and a BA in Psychology, so I have education and experience working in the mental health field with diagnosis and treatment. I left the field because I got extremely burnt out, calling out sick with headaches and needing days for rest excessively leading to multiple conversations with my supervisor threatening that my productivity was not where it needed to be. I ended up resigning and was unemployed for 3 months before I ended up in a completely different field.
Many years later, I was talking with a friend of mine who is also a therapist. As I was describing my issues with her in casual conversation after becoming a new mom and being a SAHM (assuming I had some very mild PPD, but didn't really feel super low or down just overwhelmed) she suggested I get evaluated for ADHD. She had recently been diagnosed after being treated for years for depression and anxiety, and stated that the exact things I was describing sounded like it fit more with ADHD.
I had never actually considered ADHD myself, because even in school for counseling we basically learned the stereotypical view of what ADHD presents in little boys and that was it. Of course because I did relatively well in school (although extremely disorganized, struggled to focus on things that didn't captivate my interest, procrastinated till the last minute, and developed a need to not disappoint academically). I didn't really begin to struggle in academics until college where there was much less oversight/structure and much less pressure to fulfill the needs of the course (aka handholding was gone lol). My grade slipped significantly the first year in college, although I didn't fail out, I had the worst academic performance (besides math and spanish in high school). I would burn myself out trying to keep up with everything each semester and then crash at the end of each semester. I feel like I was praised in academics and because of the external praise when I did well I think I developed some anxiety/perfectionism that was able to counteract some of the struggles I was having.
Back to present day. After my friend suggested I get checked out for ADHD, I of course began my extensive research into the topic. When I say extensive, I mean obsessively looking into it, identifying with so many of the symptoms for inattentive type (attention issues, easily distracted, emotional disregulation, trouble organizing/staying organized, forgetful and overlooking details). Along with the symptoms that are not in the DSM (hyperfixations, need for novelty, hobby/career hoping, RSD) Reading about how co-morbid depression and anxiety can be for particularly women who are diagnosed later in life. Of course with a bit of gaslighting and going back and forth on whether it could just be depression and anxiety, I finally made an appointment with a new PCP to discuss looking into getting an assessment done.
During all of this I am also dealing with a lot of life stressors (mother getting cancer diagnosis, along with my daughter needing surgery on her kidney's). So by the time I actually made the appointment with my PCP she basically dismissed my concerns of ADHD and stated I had depression and anxiety and should start SSRI's to help. I was hesitant because I really didn't feel like I needed antidepressants, but I took her professional opinion into account and that maybe I was misdiagnosing myself, and began the 20mg Paxil prescription she prescribed. I was frustrated because I felt like I wasn't able to convey myself properly and decided that it wouldn't hurt to try it. I had a horrible reaction to the medication. After about an hour after taking it I was completely and fully numb, no increased anxiety, no thoughts in my brain, literally felt absolutely nothing. My affect was immediately flattened and I honestly didn't give a sh*t about anything anymore. I hated the feeling immediately and didn't feel comfortable continuing to take it so I called the office to ask if it was okay to discontinue use just to be safe. It took weeks for me to feel "normal" again. To which my doctor just asked me what other medication I want.... Which just pissed me off. I told her I don't want medication without knowing what is going on and that I want an assessment for ADHD to be referred.
After months of waiting I finally was able to get my neurological evaluation completed (wasn't really requesting that intensive of testing but figured it wouldn't hurt. Spend close to $1000 (when funds are limited with me staying at home with my daughter) to get this assessment done for the psychologist basically side with the original nurse. She diagnosed me with recurrent mild depression, cannabis use (though medically prescribed for chronic pain), and unspecified impulse-control disorder, with considerations of PMDD and intermittent explosive disorder vs bipolar-like phenomenon vs Personality disorder (Avoidant). I literally started crying when she said she didn't think I had ADHD and didn't understand why I was trying to create a neuro-developmental disorder as a 31 year old. Then had the gall to say "I hope this helps you feel closer to a solution." To which I responded tearfully that I honestly felt worse than before and that I felt completely unheard and misunderstood. I literally spent months trying to make lists of my symptoms, hours of research, going back and forth with my own mind to just be told I was wrong. And not only that I was wrong but pulling out wild possibly diagnosis like hypomania and avoidant personality which I do not fit any symptoms for those. I know that her opinion based on such little time actually talking to me, and honestly don't feel it's even close to accurate.
The testing even showed issues with memory and some attention issues although higher than average within the IQ portion for patter recognition, along with my self report indicating a high likelihood of ADHD. Which the psychologist said could all be explain via the mild depression and cannabis use.
I acknowledge that my cannabis use for chronic pain and migraines can impact working memory, which is why I take tolerance breaks and only consume for it's intended purpose. Even with that I have had many periods of time with zero cannabis and still experiencing these symptoms without depression or anxiety. I honestly feel so lost and completely crazy for even wasting my time trying to get a diagnosis.
Thank you for allowing me to get all that out. I'm tired of feeling like I'm obsessing over this and burdening my family and friends with my constant talk. Sorry for the length and thanks for getting this far if you did!

TW: Abortion, Abusive language
This might be long and I’m writing this on mobile so sorry in advance for any format errors.
I am really struggling with getting over my husband’s family’s transgressions. They have been utterly rude and disrespectful to me, even my MIL going to the point of issuing light threats (telling me she can be worse than my abusive mother who busted both my lips and that my husband would choose her over me) while I was about 7 months pregnant. I’m very direct and no-nonsense, so that didn’t go over well and in the end my husband (as timid as he is) handled it.
The thing I can’t get over, though, is how when we told his family my MIL said “how far along are you? well I guess it’s too late to do anything now” and my FIL just looked at us and said “well, you’re gonna be miserable.”
My husband and my daughter are two of the best things that ever happened to me. I love my daughter and being a mom so much, and my husband is heartbroken that she’s in a phase where she only wants me because he loves her so much.
It just bothers me so much every time I even think of them that they now want to ask about her, get pictures, hold her, etc. I just feel like after their reactions they don’t deserve to experience all the joy she brings everyone. What do I do? I hate seeing them and I dread going over there even though we only really see them about once a month.
Some examples of things she’s done since my daughter was born include telling me to put my baby on formula (she’s ebf and any issue that comes up is my breast milk), telling me she’s buying me a cover because “the grandkids were uncomfortable” and “it’s natural but not in front of everyone,” along with the usual I’m holding her too much, need to let her cry, etc.
I was wearing her during thanksgiving and FIL told me the reason she was sweating is because her clothes were too thick (they were thin bc i know they keep their house hot but she had on pants and a long sleeve as it was 40 degrees outside) and I was wearing her, not that their house was 75 degrees with the heat system still running.
I’m just so at a loss. I don’t know if my feelings are even valid or what I should do.

Part 1
The radio crackles to life, and Captain Corceiro's voice comes through, tense and authoritative. "Copy that, Lennox. We're mobilizing units now. Get to safety and stand by for further instructions."
As I navigate the Land Rover through the park's winding paths, my mind races with thoughts of the figure we encountered. I glance over at Lani. She's deep in thought, her eyes distant.
"What was that thing?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. The image of the fiery figure, moving through the forest with an otherworldly grace, is seared into my mind.
She doesn't answer immediately, her gaze fixed on the passing landscape. Finally, she turns to me, her expression serious. "I think it was a Lava Walker," she says.
"Lava Walker?" I repeat, unfamiliar with the term. The term sounds like something out of a myth or a horror story.
"Yeah, I just... made it up," Lani admits, a slight shrug accompanying her words. "It's like a skinwalker, but for volcanoes."
“Seriously, Lani?" I can't help but let out a skeptical laugh.
Lani gives me a look, one that's both challenging and serious. "Okay, wise guy, you come up with a better explanation. What else could it have been?"
I open my mouth to retort, but the words falter on my lips.
"I... I don't know," I finally confess, the words tasting like defeat. The more I think about it, the more I realize that there are things in this world that defy conventional understanding.
—
As we approach the rendezvous point, the distant wail of sirens grows louder, slicing through the tense silence inside the vehicle. The sight that greets us is a flurry of activity – fire containment units, park rangers, and emergency vehicles converge at the edge of the expanding wildfire.
Captain Corceiro stands in the midst of it all, a commanding presence as he directs the operations. His face is set in grim determination. As we pull up, he turns, spotting us immediately. His expression softens for a moment with relief at seeing us safe, before returning to its previous intensity.
"You two alright?" he asks, eyeing our soot-covered faces and singed clothing.
"We're okay, Captain," Lani responds, her voice hoarse but steady. "But we've got a serious situation. That fire is spreading fast, and there's something... unusual about it."
"'Unusual?'" He asks.
I nod in agreement, still catching my breath. "We saw something in the forest, sir. It's hard to explain, but it seemed to be causing the fire, moving through the trees like... like it was part of the flames."
Corceiro's brow furrows, a skeptical look crossing his face. "Sounds like heat exhaustion, Saito. We need clear heads here."
He gestures towards the medical tent. "Head over to the medics. Get yourselves checked out. If you're fit, I need you back on the line. This fire's not going to control itself, and we need all hands on deck."
—
After a brief rest and rehydration, we don our firefighting gear, feeling the weight of responsibility on our shoulders. The afternoon sky is aglow with the raging fire, casting an eerie light over the park.
We join a small team of rangers and firefighters, ready to venture into the heart of the wildfire. Helicopters and drones overhead coordinate our movement, but the journey is perilous. The air is thick with smoke, reducing visibility to mere feet. The heat is stifling, like walking through an open furnace. Embers whirl around us, carried by the hot winds, threatening to ignite anything remotely flammable.
Suddenly, without warning, a massive flare-up erupts. A wall of fire explodes from the underbrush, fueled by a pocket of trapped gas. The force of the blaze is like a physical blow, knocking me off my feet. In the chaos, I'm separated from the rest of the team. I shout Lani's name, but my voice is lost in the cacophony of crackling flames and collapsing trees.
Panic sets in as I realize I'm alone. The heat is so intense it feels like my skin is blistering through my protective gear. My breathing is the only sound that pierces the relentless roar of the flames. Each inhale and exhale echoes through my oxygen mask.
The world around me is a terrifying landscape of fire and smoke. Trees, once towering and majestic, are now monstrous torches, their branches reaching out like fiery claws.
I stumble over a fallen log, the wood crumbling under my weight, embers scattering like fiery rain. My heart pounds in my chest, a rapid drumbeat echoing the chaos around me.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spot a figure moving through the flames. For a moment, I think it's Lani, but as it comes closer, I realize it's something else entirely. The figure moves with an eerie grace, untouched by the fire that rages around it.
As it approaches, the air around it seems to warp and ripple, the intense heat bending light itself. The flames seem to dance around it, converging into a swirling vortex of fire and ash.
Just as the figure nears, a hand grabs mine, pulling me back to the harsh reality of the firestorm. I turn to see Lani, her face obscured by the visor of her protective gear. For a moment, in the surreal, smoky haze, she looks alien, a creature from another world in her fire-resistant suit. But it's her grip, firm and determined, that grounds me, convincing me she's very much human.
"We can't stay here!" Her voice cuts through the roaring fire.
The ground under our feet shifts unpredictably, the earth cracked and uneven from the intense heat. We dodge falling branches and leap over smoldering debris, the air thick with the acrid smell of burning wood and ash.
As we navigate through the inferno, trying to stay ahead of the ever-advancing flames, a haunting sound pierces through the chaos. At first, it seems like another trick of the fire – a howl of the wind, perhaps, or the creaking of burning trees. But while we pause, panting and disoriented, the sound crystallizes into something unmistakably human: voices, distant and ghostly, floating through the smoke.
The voices aren't speaking in English, nor in the familiar Pidgin that's like second nature to us. Instead, they're in Hawaiian – the language of our ancestors, a language we've heard in school, in cultural celebrations, but never fully mastered. Despite our limited understanding, the tone of desperation is unmistakable. They're cries for help.
The voices, haunting and persistent, draw us like a siren's call. We exchange a glance, the same thought mirrored in our eyes – we can't ignore this.
We push forward towards the voices, time being our greatest enemy. The ground slopes sharply, leading to a steep ravine that cuts through the park like a scar. It's a natural barrier, one that the fire hasn't yet crossed, but the flames are close, hungrily licking at its edges.
Lani and I cautiously approach the precipice of the ravine. The voices grow louder, clearer. They seem to be emanating from the depths of the ravine itself, rising up through the billowing smoke like a chorus of lost souls.
Among the ghostly voices, Lani catches a word that sends a shiver down our spines. "Kapu," she whispers, her voice tinged with fear. The ancient Hawaiian term for 'forbidden' or 'sacred' reverberates through the fiery landscape, a warning unheeded by us until now.
We stand frozen, the realization hitting us hard - we're on sacred ground, a place where the living are not meant to tread. The air grows heavy, charged with an otherworldly energy, as if the very spirits of the land are rising in anger against our intrusion.
Suddenly, from the glow of molten rock and the charred remains of the forest, three figures emerge. At first, they appear as mere distortions in the heated air, like mirages born of the fire. But as they draw closer, their forms become horrifyingly clear.
The largest of the three Lava Walkers strides forward with a dominating presence. Its body is a living tapestry of molten rock and fire. Flames lick across its surface, outlining muscles and limbs. Its eyes, glowing like coals, fix on us with an intensity that chills me to the core.
Flanking the larger figure are two smaller ones, each moving with an eerie, fluid grace. Their childlike size gives me an unsettling feeling. The flames that envelop them cast their features in a grotesque, ever-changing dance of light and shadow.
As they draw nearer, the terrifying truth dawns on us. These creatures, these Lava Walkers, are the missing family we've been searching for.
The largest figure, the one that resembles the mother, extends a hand towards us. Her fingers, made of flowing lava and flickering flames, reach out in a gesture that's heartbreakingly human. Her eyes, glowing embers in a face of liquid rock, convey a mother's desperation.
Even with our fire-resistant gear, we can feel our skin prickling painfully from the proximity. We back away slowly, our eyes locked on the haunting figures before us. An invisible barrier of heat pushes us back step by step.
In our haste, we don't realize how close we are to the precipice. Lani stumbles, her foot slipping on the loose, ashy soil. For a heart-stopping moment, she teeters on the edge, her arms flailing for balance.
Acting on instinct, I lunge forward, grabbing her firmly around the waist. With a desperate heave, I pull her back from the brink, both of us falling to the ground in a heap.
I frantically search for any route of escape. Then, my eyes catch sight of a large, charred tree, its base weakened by the fire and the intense heat of the volcanic activity.
I motion to Lani, pointing towards the tree. "Lani, the tree!" I shout over the roar of the flames.
Understanding flashes in her eyes, and without another word, we spring into action.
I grab my chainsaw, a tool I carry for creating firebreaks. As I rev up the chainsaw, the roar of its motor cuts through the crackling of the flames, a man-made growl against nature's fury.
The chainsaw bites into the charred bark, sending a shower of embers into the air. I work quickly, the blade slicing through the weakened wood, the smell of burnt timber filling my nostrils.
As the tree begins to give way, Lani braces herself against the trunk, using all her strength to guide it in the right direction. With a final, forceful push, the tree begins to topple. We both jump back as it crashes down, creating a makeshift bridge across the ravine.
We scramble across the fallen tree, the wood creaking and groaning under our weight. We barely make it to the other side of the ravine when a heart-wrenching scene unfolds behind us. The earth, weakened by the intense heat and the ravages of the fire, can no longer support Lava Walkers' weight.
The mother, still reaching out towards us, and her two smaller companions, are swallowed by the collapsing ground. They tumble into the abyss of the ravine, their forms dissolving into the molten rock below. A profound sadness grips me as I watch them disappear.
Lani grabs my arm, pulling me away from the edge. "Koa, we have to keep moving," she urges, her voice thick with emotion.
We move swiftly from the edge of the ravine, the heat of the inferno still pressing against our backs. Lani leads the way, her familiarity with the park's topography guiding us toward an elevated position, a rocky outcrop that offers a vantage point.
As soon as we reach relative safety, still shaken by the harrowing sight of the Lava Walkers being swallowed by the earth, I pull out my radio, my hands still trembling from the intensity of what we just witnessed. I know our immediate priority is to prevent whatever is back there from spreading.
"Base, this is Saito. We need immediate air support on these coordinates." I relay the exact location of the ravine, emphasizing the necessity of a rapid response.
The response from dispatch is swift and professional. "Copy that, Saito. Air support is en route. Hang tight and stay safe. Over."
Pulling off our masks, we take in deep, desperate gulps of the fresher air now available. The sensation of breathing without the constraints of our gear is profoundly relieving.
As we catch our breath, a faint, distant hum grows progressively louder. I look up, straining my eyes against the smoke-filled sky. The sound intensifies, a deep, resonating thrum that vibrates through the air. I catch sight of the unmistakable silhouette of a C-130, its powerful engines cutting through the chaos of the wildfire.
As the aircraft unleashes its payload onto the ravine, a cascade of fire retardant billows down in a massive cloud, blanketing the area in a surreal pink hue. The inferno below begins to subside under the deluge, the flames dampened by the torrent of chemicals.
Lani turns to me, her eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions. My hand reaches out, gently touching her cheek, smudged with soot and sweat.
“You okay?” I ask.
Without saying a word, she pulls me close, her lips meeting mine in a passionate kiss. It's as if she's always wanted to do this. In the face of the unpredictable and fleeting nature of life, she seizes the opportunity, knowing it might never come again.
As quickly as Lani kisses me, she pulls back, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. She starts to apologize, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Koa, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—I just..."
Before she can finish, I close the distance between us, returning her affections with equal fervor. It's a kiss filled with all the unsaid things, the emotions that have been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.
The world around us seems to pause, the crackling of the fire and the distant sounds of the emergency response fading into the background. It's just Lani and me, surrounded by the wake of our ordeal.
—
In the aftermath of the wildfire, the efforts of the emergency response teams gradually bring the blaze under control. The raging flames that once threatened to consume everything in their path are reduced to smoldering ashes and charred remnants.
The missing Jenkins family - Sara, Tyler, and Ethan - are officially listed as tragic victims of the fire. Within the ranks of the rangers and the emergency teams, whispers about the Lava Walkers circulate in hushed tones. But in the official reports, there is no mention of the mysterious figures we encountered.
As the weeks pass and the charred landscape gradually begins its slow recovery, life for Lani and I gradually returns to familiar rhythms — patrolling the trails, guiding tours, and educating visitors about the park's unique ecosystem and geological features.
Though life has seemingly returned to its regular patterns, there's an undeniable shift between Lani and me that's impossible to ignore. In the quiet moments, when our glances meet, there are hints of something profound and unspoken that's blossomed between us.
—
Despite everything that unfolded, I would never discourage anyone from visiting this majestic place. Kīlauea, with her raw and untamed beauty, holds a special kind of magic that everyone should witness at least once in their lifetime.
So, to those who wish to venture into Hawai'i Volcanoes, I offer these words of advice: respect the land and heed its warnings. And if, during your journey, you ever hear the forests whispering in Hawaiian, run!
—Aloha 'oe
X

Chapter CLIX
​
Ulrin Mercantile Hub.
​
"Wait! That's very deli-"
​
CRASH!
​
"-cate." Dylan said as he and Alban watched as a line of dwarves and humans moved boxes and crates of their work out of their, now former it seems, workshop.
​
Neither one of them new exactly what was going on and at first they were worried that the dwarven clan had finally gotten tired of their failures. So it was only with partial relief that they weren't hauled away in chains and forced into indentured servitude.
​
Dylan turned and saw Alban stuffing some of their more controversial plans into his tunic. With those secured Dylan tried his best to keep everything else from being destroyed. Though that was rather hard to do given he was a 3ft gnome trying to fight against dwarves and humans.
​
Though "fight" wasn't really the word as they easily pushed him aside as they moved, rather ungently, their things out of the break house. As he tried to stop one of the humans from setting down a crate of gears and springs, unsuccessfully, Aerin came over with a couple of dwarven guards.
​
"Mr. Aerin sir! Please! We just need a bit more time is all!" Dylan pleaded as another crate of tinker toys was roughly sat down.
​
"And you will! However, we have decided that you will no longer be doin' yer work here at the hub." Aerin explained as his workers continued to haul the Artificers' things away.
​
"What do you mean?" Dylan asked as he scrambled to get a hold of some plans before they blew away.
​
"I mean that your continued failures are becomin' rather... distractin'."
​
"But we're-"
​
"Which is why tha clan has decided ta relocate you ta a place where you can freely practice yer work without causin' any... distractions, fer us." Aerin explained further.
​
"Oh? Uhm where Mr. Aerin sir?"
​
"Why a wee lil place just south o' town! Nice, quiet, full o' folk that will be more than happy ta assist you in yer work!" Aerin described, with some chuckles from the dwarven guards behind him.
​
"Really? So we're not being collected upon?" Dylan asked.
​
"O' course not! Yer work is important ta us! We just think that a better environment is in order! After all! We're doin' blastin' which I'm sure affects yer work. And yer work also affects our own efforts here! So this way we both get what we need!" Aerin said as he led Dylan and Alban over to a rather beat-up truck that had seen better days.
​
With barely a word, the artificers' things were moved into the back of the rusted old heap. No more gently than before either. As their things were thrown into the truck bed, causing it to creak with every crate and box. Dylan and Alban looked up at the rusted piece of junk. Though Dylan was a bit more excited about it than Alban was.
​
"What's this?!"
​
Aerin gestured to it.
"This, is yer mode o' transportation! We procured it fer ya!"
​
He slapped the side of it, causing a cloud of rust to fall off, as well as the passenger side door. Dylan was feeling less thrilled by the moment as the wonder of being given one of the strange carriages was overwritten by the thought that this was indeed, a rusted piece of junk. He would be surprised if it functioned at all!
​
As the last of their things was thrown into the back of the bed, and the bumper was slapped back on, Aerin gestured to the rusted truck.
"Well? What are you waitin' for?"
​
The other workers stood nearby and watched as Dylan and Alban looked worryingly at the truck. Some muttered and chuckled to themselves as they watched them try and get in without cutting themselves on the rust. The interior wasn't any better. The upholstery was worn down in some places so much that nothing but metal was seen and everything had a layer of dirt or dust on it. It was quickly decided that Alban would drive as he was the only one that could see out the window, as dusted over as it was. Even then he could only peer between the holes in the steering wheel.
​
"Ok Alban. Uhm, try that?" Dylan gestured to a handle to the left of the wheel.
​
Alban grunted and moved it. Up, down, he even twisted it. Though all that did was snap the strange handle off and revealing the wires within it. Dylan mumbled and began to press the various knobs and dials on the center of the console. But none of them did anything either.
​
All the while the other workers laughed and muttered as they passed coins between one another as they all watched. Aerin and the dwarves were no different as they too watched the artificers struggle. Eventually Dylan grabbed the strange metal thing on the side of the wheel that had a worn black ball with a infinity symbol on it and what looked like a rabbit's foot. He pulled on it and found they were attached to a key. Putting two and two together he slotted it back into the holder and turned.
​
He promptly stopped when he heard the thing try to start up. Though it sounded like a choking animal rather than the smooth humming he heard from some of the others that come and go from the hub. Even the large ones that roared like beasts had a feel of power to them. This one on the other hand sounded like it was sick and dying.
​
Dylan looked over to Aerin who just smiled and waved his hand in a 'go-on' gesture. Dylan groaned and turned the key again. Earning them all an ear grating noise that sounded like a sputtering seagull! But he persisted and held the key until something finally clicked somewhere and the truck roared to life!
​
Kinda, Dylan thought as the brief roar was replaced with a whining like noise that didn't sound good. He and Alban turned to look at Aerin, only to see him wave at them with a smile even as the other workers got various looks of satisfaction and displeasure as they passed coins once again to one another through a haze of noxious smoke coming from somewhere.
​
"Alright Alban! I guess we go to our new home! Again." Dylan tried to lighten the mood some. But Alban grunted and looked to Dylan. The gnome looked at him confusingly before looking below the wheel and down at the peddles. The peddles that Alban couldn't reach.
​
"Oh!?" Dylan cried as he squeezed his way down so that he now had the peddles before him.
​
"Can you steer Alban?!" Dylan asked.
​
Alban reached a hand up and tried to wipe away the dust covering the window. But did nothing more than streak it and smear dust on his fingers. He looked over to the driver's door and tried to lean out to see where he was going, only to send that door down to the ground with a rattling thud.
​
The workers laughed and snickered as more and more came over to see all the commotion. Alban leaned over a hair and could now see where they were facing. He grunted down at Dylan. The gnome nodded and pressed the left peddle first. But nothing happened. No sound or pressure or anything!
​
"Strange. Something to figure out another time!" Dylan muttered as he pressed down on the right peddle and earned him and Alban both a start as the truck lurched forwards! For about half a centimeter. Then an awful grinding sound rang out and the truck stopped in its tracks.
​
"What's happening up there Alban?!" Dylan asked as he looked at the peddles before him.
​
Alban grunted and looked around and began to press the various buttons on the center console. Earning them both a fright as static erupted from somewhere in the truck along side uncomfortably hot air being blasted at Alban!
​
"What's that Alban?!" Dylan asked as he tried to see what was happening.
​
Alban didn't answer as he smashed a thick dwarven hand into the center console and all at once the hot air and the static ceased. Only to be replaced by more mocking laughter from the workers nearby. Alban looked around some more and laid his eyes on a lever to his right. He grabbed it and began to pull and push it this way and that. Earning various degrees of grinding from the truck.
​
"Oh?! Did you figure it out Alban?" Dylan asked.
​
Alban grunted unsurely. Dylan took that as a confirmation and pressed on the peddle that caused them to lurch forwards again. Only this time they made it a little farther before stopping. As Dylan continued to press on the peddle, Alban shifted the lever to his right this way and that. Causing them to either go a few feet before stopping or a couple inches. So slowly, but surely, they left the hub behind as their mode of transport lurched and grinded along at a snails pace.
​
"Do you know where we are supposed to be going Alban?" Dylan asked over the grinding and rattling of the truck.
​
Alban grunted and shrugged as he leaned his head out the side and tried his best to see where they were supposed to be going. But that was hard to do when they weren't sure WHERE it was they were supposed to be heading to! Aerin had just said south of town. So Alban did his best to steer the rusted old rattler south. At least he thought it was south.
​
Fortunately they were going slow enough that they didn't have to worry about running into anyone. At least if they were paying attention that is. So they passed by a library that Dylan wanted to go to but was never given the time to do so. Then they passed that general store that the dwarves owned and where their thundersticks were coming from lately.
​
But Alban continued on, down the road and into a bit of a wooded area. Before long he though that they had come to where they were supposed to go, and immediately got worried when he was the goblins standing nearby the entrance! Alban grunted and gestured for Dylan to stop.
​
"What?!" Dylan called up as he couldn't hear much over the grinding and whining of the truck.
​
Alban looked up and saw the goblins sneering as they neared one another. Eventually one came up and glared at Alban.
"Who are you and what do you want?!"
​
Alban, obviously, didn't answer and the truck continued to lurch and squeal. The goblins didn't like none of it and began to shout and point their muskets at them and shouted orders for them to stop. Alban grunted and kicked Dylan and gestured with his foot to a different peddle in an effort to get them to stop.
​
Dylan wasn't sure why Alban was acting strange, until he turned to the side and saw the goblins getting closer! So he pushed on a peddle! The right peddle. Causing the truck to lurch some more and grind and squeal. Alban tried to jiggle and wrench the level to see if it would make them stop. But it just caused the truck to continue on and make an even worse grinding noise as well as continue to sputter.
​
The goblins tried to stop them, but were stopped themselves as Alban turned the wheel, causing the truck to turn another direction. As they turned, a plumb of smoke billowed out behind them and forced the goblins to retreat back as they hacked and coughed. Alban turned the wheel until they were facing the direction back towards the forested road and quickly jiggled the lever to get them to go faster away from the goblins!
​
So the truck continued to lurch, shutter, and sputter as it carried on down the road and back towards town. Alban sure hoped that wasn't supposed to be their new home. As they came to a junction that Alban missed and he saw the road go left. So he pulled on the wheel and forced the rusty beater to turn even as it squealed in protest.
​
They continued on down the road, a grinding, smelly, and annoying thing that caused everyone around them to either flee or glare at them as they lurched their way through town. Alban heard and felt something hit the truck but he wasn't sure what it was or if it wasn't just the truck making more noises and movements. It wasn't until he heard the sound of glass breaking that he realized they must've hit something! He looked right to where the passenger door would've been and saw, and heard, and felt as their truck squealed and scratched a car to the right of them!
​
He yanked on the wheel to pull away and the truck protested before leaning away from the car, though it did little good as Alban could see that almost the entire side of it was scratched and even the mirror was on the ground and broken. Something they didn't have to worry about because the only mirror in the truck was hanging limply above the center console along side a pair of fuzzy green dice and a bird feather.
​
Eventually though, they came to another junction and Alban was faced with three roads. One that turned left, another that turned right, and one that continued on. He grunted down at Dylan, but the little gnome was too busy managing the peddles and couldn't hear him over the awful racket the truck made constantly.
​
So he had to decide quickly or risk potentially getting them lost or worse in this world. He peeked out and tried to see where the sun was for directions. But it was so cloudy around here that he could barely see it through the thick cloud cover. Alban grunted again and just pulled the wheel left, and hoped that that was south.
​
He was starting to regret his decision as they traveled down the road for a time before it turned into dirt and gravel. Aerin had said something about a quiet little place. But for all Alban knew that was just a way to send them away into the wilderness, until he spotted something in the distance.
​
He grunted and nudged Dylan with his foot. The gnome looked up from where he was muttering and studying the peddles.
"What?! Do you see something Alban!?"
​
Alban nodded and Dylan turned back to the peddles again and pressed the one on the left. If the one on the right made them go faster maybe that one was meant to stop them? Not like it worked as Dylan pressed down on it and didn't feel anything. They didn't slow down nor stop as far as he could tell. Not like they were going fast in the first place, Dylan thought as he kept pressing against the peddle but continued to feel nothing.
​
Alban grunted and turned the wheel to get a better look of what this place was, only to jerk forward as the truck ran into something! A sound of metal hitting metal and breaking glass was all they heard before a horn began to sound from nearby!
​
But at least they were stopped, Alban thought as the truck sputtered once more before clicking a final time and then dying. Leaving Dylan and Alban to wiggle out of the rusted truck and turn to what they had hit. A small gray car was parked out front of the town they were at. Beside it were a few other vehicles like it, some were cars and some were trucks.
​
"'Ey?! Who goes there?!" Someone called from the cloud of smoke that prevented either of them from seeing what exactly the town was.
​
"Hello?!" Dylan called out as the two artificers waved their hands to clear the caustic smoke away. Revealing a halfling. Two halflings! Both of which coughed and hacked as the smoke began to dissipate.
​
Then they looked towards Dylan and Alban, and got looks of disgust on their faces.
"Wha' do you want gnome!?"
​
"Well, we were sent here by the dwarven clan. Something about being relocated?"
​
"Bah! As if elves weren'y bad enough now we gots ta deal with gnomes!" One of the halflings decried and sent the other one away as he stood there and glared at Dylan.
​
Alban grunted and gestured behind the halfling. Dylan peered over as best he was able and could hear the sounds of celebration mixed with the horn from the car. As the sound continued some more halflings came by to investigate before promptly sneering and rolling their eyes as they saw Dylan.
​
To say that halflings and gnomes don't get along would be an understatement. Some people believe that the two of them are the same race, but no halfling or gnome of good standing would ever admit to being related to the other. Halflings find the gnomes too bookish and snobbish. Gnomes find the halflings too simple and crude. So it was inevitable that when the two of them meet that there is almost always some sort of argument that breaks out.
​
Dylan for his part, was never inducted into the stereotypical view of halflings like most gnomes are. He knew the whys and hows, but being an orphan and having a dwarven brother made something like petty rivalry with the halflings rather pointless for him.
​
Though from the looks on the halflings faces they didn't seem to hold that same viewpoint, Dylan thought as the sneers and glares continued until he saw the familiar, if slightly underdressed, form of Clive making his way over. He only had on a pair of pants and was quickly putting a shirt on over him as he walked over, barefooted, behind the other halfling that had ran to get him it seemed.
​
"What all happened?" Clive asked as he tried to get his head through his shirt as best as he could.
​
As he did so with a grunt of pain he turned and looked at Dylan and Alban and said with questioning look.
"What are you two doing here?"
​
"Aerin said that we were being relocated." Dylan stated.
​
Cliven stared at the two of them until a look of understanding dawned on him.
"Oh yeah, right. Uhm, look, I don't really have time right now to watch over you two. So if you just wanna get your stuff and get settled we can go over things when I can. Alright?"
​
"Of course! But uhm, where do we stay?"
​
"Well, you can stay... yeah, that is kinda a problem. I guess we can find you a tent in the meantime." Clive said in a sorry tone as he rubbed the back of his neck.
​
While Dylan and Alban didn't like the idea of sleeping in a tent compared to their workshop back at the hub, it was better than nothing they supposed. So they retrieved a couple crates and followed after one of the halflings as they led the two of them to their new home, grumbling the whole time about gnomes as they went.
​
Clive meanwhile sighed and turned to where some rusted piece of shit had hit his car. He groaned and pulled his keys out and ceased the horn blaring. He rubbed his face and grumbled as he looked up at the darkening sky before turning back around and heading towards his tent once again.
​
[First] [Prev] [Next]