for more context, no he's not a pedophile, he's a teacher and a non creepy nice guy who I talked about science & movies with when I met him yesterday, I am a teen girl so I know why she's worried but Mom insists that it's inappropriate for me to text an adult man but #1 swap the gender & she'd be fine with it🙄 #2 I already text other "adult man"s like MY school counselor and she trusts him #3 it was MY idea for the phone numbers just so i could show him a funny history video. Finally #4 I know the signs of creeps and a pedo so I'll certainly delete and block this guy if I see any of them.

Sunday, June 4, 2023
Ask Me Anything with u/humbledbyit
Welcome to this non-real time meeting of Overeaters Anonymous!
I’m u/CAM075. I’m pleased to introduce today’s OA Fellow u/humbledbyit who will be qualifying today:
Suggested guidelines for sharing:
As you share your experience and strength in OA, please also share your hope. Please confine your sharing to your experience with the disease of compulsive eating, the solution offered by OA, and your own recovery from the disease, rather than just the events of the day or week. If you are having difficulties, share how you use the program to deal with them. If you need to talk more about your difficulties and seek solutions, we suggest you speak to your sponsor and other members after the meeting.
Feedback, crosstalk, and advice giving are discouraged here. Cross talk during an OA meeting is giving advice to others who have already shared or speaking directly to another person rather than to the group. Feel free to reply to posts in this thread with questions for our AMA Speaker, and they will answer.
QUALIFER:
Since I was a child food and eating brought me comfort like nothing else. I was hooked. I used it to feel better when I felt out of place or just didn't feel right in my own skin. I used it to escape my feelings and numb out. However, my body showed signs of it & I was overweight as a child. Went on my first diet at age 12. That began my career as a "shape shifter." Throughout my life my body would undergo extremes of weight loss and gain and my closet had varying size of clothes because my weight was always a moving target. The ability to maintain a healthy weight was always out of my grasp for some reason. In college I was under a lot of stress to do well, compulsively ate a lot & became morbidly obese. I tried many things to control my eating and weight including therapy for eating disorder (mine was binge eating with compulsive exercising), hypnosis, pay & weigh programs, cutting out sugar and carbs, plant-based diet, personal trainer, nutritionist, energy healing, on and on. With many of these I lost weight and thought "I'm on my way.” That was until I reverted back to compulsive eating. When I hit rock bottom my mental obsession was in full force. Sometimes I’d wake up & my first thought would be of food or how disgusted I was with my body because of how I ate night prior, during the day what excited me was “what am I going to eat later” and sometimes I’d even dream about food.
A therapist suggested I try OA. When I came to OA I learned that I am not alone and that I have a broken "coper.” That when life happens I just don't know how to deal with it so eventually I "use.” I use food to numb out or escape my thoughts and feelings. I tried some ideas that were recommended to me in OA. What I learned is that food plan or any kind of controlling of food just causes me more mental obsessing about what to/not to eat. If I had learned anything up to that point it was that I can't stick to a plan of eating forever, I always fall off. I don't have the power to stick to any plan of eating for good and all. Also, I have a mental blind spot and I blank out on the consequences of compulsive eating & when it comes down to it I can compulsively eat any food. I discovered that ingredients such as sugar or food types like carbs aren’t my problem and I don’t have to cut out any food groups. My problem is behavioral in nature, it’s about what I do with food – I compulsively eat to make myself feel better.
As a result of getting a sponsor and working the 12 steps out of the big book I now have freedom and neutrality around all food. My mind is much more peaceful. I can actually eat in way that nourishes my body and it does not feel like a struggle at all. There is no white knuckling. I can still enjoy food without using it to cope with life or to comfort me. Also, I get to help other compulsive eaters, share the solution that worked for me and sponsor them. Now, I have a new way of dealing with life. I know this program works if I work it and I am so thankful to have found this solution. I am a grateful recovered sponsor and am happy to help! Feel free to DM message me if you would like to chat more.
Closing: By following the Twelve Steps, attending meetings regularly, and using the OA Tools, we are changing our lives. You will find hope and encouragement in Overeaters Anonymous. To the newcomer, we suggest attending at least six different meetings to learn the many ways OA can help you. The opinions expressed here today are those of individual OA members and do not represent OA as a whole. Let us all reach out by private message to newcomers, returning members, and each other. Together we get better.

My gf (21F) and I (24M) have been together for ~2 years now. However, we had a 'bumpy' start: We met 3 years ago on Bumble, and agreed to keep it casual-only, we were regularly hooking up. While that happened, an old friend I have (7+ years) was also single, back when we met we dated for 1-2 months, didn't work out but we decided to keep the friendship. She became a close friend that I appreciate. Since she was single when I met my now-gf (and I was in a casual-only thing), my friend and I discussed about trying something casual, we liked the idea, however, I told her I had to tell my now-gf about it.
It didn't went well, she was actually looking for something serious and asked me to stop talking to her, which I respected. My friend and I tried the 'casual thing', it didn't work out from both ends and we agreed to just keep being friends that don't hookup, like all these years. Some days later my now-gf calls and says she's willing to keep things casual and open. We have a serious discussion and we both agree to try actual dating to see where things go. 5 months later we start a relationship. This happened 3 years ago.
The 2+ years of exclusive-only relationship have been mostly great, but every now and then the 'issue' of my old friend arises. My gf doesn't like me talking/spending time with her. We don't see eachother that much (once every 3-4 months, we chat once per 1-2 weeks), but she doesn't trust her. My gf has mentioned her desire for me to stop talking to her. I feel like my gf does not trust me.
Yesterday I threw a party to celebrate my birthday, my gf and old friend were there but my gf was mostly avoiding her. Today my gf wanted to talk and reiterated about her not feeling comfortable about me talking/spending time with my friend. She suggested me inviting someone else when I go out with my female friend, so I don't spend time alone with her. She even asked me to show her my cellphone/messages with my friend.
I have never cheated on her or done anything close to it, yet I still feel like my girlfriend does not trust me. Even if my old friend flirted with me (which isn't the case), its up to 2 individuals to involve with eachother, I'm commited to my relationship, but that doesn't seem to be enough. My job is demanding and I'm also in a masters degree, I barely have time, most of it goes to my relationship and I keep felling like i'm not enough for her.
My gf has insisted on how she feels she's not 'my priority'. While she's super important, so are my friends and other people in my life. The 'long-term' topic was mentioned too, and my gf said that its important to her that couples are aligned on how they 'proritize' the other person in order to see a viable future for the relationship.
I honestly don't know what to do. This isn't the first time this happens and it doesn't seem to improve with therapy or time. I feel like I have 3 options:

1. Stay in this relationship and hope my gf adapts/overcomes this, which hasn't worked so far over the last 2.4 years, and it feels like it goes worse (limit your interactions -> don't go out with her -> don't talk to her -> don't spend time with her alone -> show me your messages)
2. Ditch my friend so my girlfriend stops feeling threatened, which I don't like, feels controlling and that it doesn't really solve anything trust-wise, in fact, justifies/reinforces that my gf is right in controlling/asking about being invasive
3. Break up, maybe admit we both have too different concepts of trust/relationships, maybe i'm not what she wants, and I can't offer her anything else than what I already am.

Any tips? Don't sugarcoat it please, i'm having a crappy birthday already. Thanks in advance folks.
TL;DR: GF(21F) and I (24M) been together for 2 years. It was casual/hookup-only when we met. I also hooked up with a friend during that time, not before telling that to my now-gf. It created a conflict, gf actually wanted a serious relationship instead. We decided to give serious dating a go and started a serious relationship later on, friend and I decided to just keep being friends, no more hookups. GF does not like my friend and has shown some signs of controlling behaviojealousy: Asking to stop talking to friend, invite someone else when I spend time with friend, check messages, limit my interaction etc... I feel like there's a lack of trust from her side, I have told her many times I don't feel any attraction and that my friend doesn't feel anything for me, neither sexually or emotionally. Even after ~3 years, it has been an ongoing issue, I don't feel any improvement and I constantly feel like I can't get her to trust me/I'm not doing enough for her to feel comfortable.

My players have been in this relatively new town for about 10 days in game, but have been RP-ing in it for maybe about a month or two. There's something coming up later in the story that will be a bit moer reliant on their connections with other NPCs, however, I'm struggling to put them in scenarios that'll have them interact with other NPCs.
The idea was that I'd give them a Quest Log, so everyday they can sign up for quests ranging from ones that'd take an in-game hour to ones that would take 2-4 days. I just can't come up with anything that would push them to interact with NPCs beyond simple exchanges.
Also if you're my players you didn't see this LMAO

I'm trying to renew my certificate for Beekeeper Studio, 3 years ago it was a simple download, but now it costs 3x the price and they want to ship me a physical device with the private key on it.
This seems crazy complicated, and I have no idea how I would use that in Github Actions.
What are y'all using for code signing now? I'm at a loss on how to proceed here.
Read about the 'new rules' here - https://sectigo.com/ssl-certificates-tls/code-signing

Hey all, it’s me Frank Jones again. I wrote that post a while ago about why you shouldn’t be a paranormal investigator and a lot of you liked it. Since settling into my hideaway in the mountains, life has become quiet and I thought about checking in. The plague hit us like nothing and now that everyone is wanting to travel again, I thought to say hi. I want to say thanks to all of you who commented and gave me those weird pointy thingies this social media does. Some of you even figured out my post office box address and sent me letters. I appreciate it (and don’t do it again).
The common strain among your posts was wanting to know if I had ever encountered other things as an auditor. Of course I have but I have been reluctant to tell you because I don’t want to shine some sort of light on all of it or make it sound like some romantic adventure. It’s “pissing yourself” fear all wrapped up in a waking nightmare with a side of gory terror. I am one of the few who actually made it to retirement…if that’s what you could call this life I’m living now.
But, I have nothing else to do really. Carl only visits once in a while when he’s passing through and I cannot risk any other sort of company knowing I’ve pissed off a lot of people…and things. So, I’m back on this internet board and sharing. So many are curious, I thought maybe another story can scare you all straight. This was the first time complacency almost got me and another killed.
This story takes place somewhere in the 90s in a small New England town. It was one of those places nestled along the banks of a serene river, historic brick buildings line the winding streets, their facades adorned with weathered signs that hint at the town's seafaring heritage. A place where everything smelled like either the ocean or decaying fish. I’m not going to specifically name the town to protect the young lady that may still be living there but in the heart of the town, there’s a renowned drawbridge which stands as a testament to the place’s affinity for water. Its ancient mechanisms creak and groan when allowing vessels to pass through the calm waterway. It also had some of the best outdoor markets I had a chance to stop and check out.
I didn’t pass through this part of the country that often as my boss preferred me to do the long hauls across the country but there was a dead haul nobody wanted.I took it cause I wanted a change of scenery. I was already working as an auditor and part of a loose alliance of others who investigated and dealt with any weird things. I actually had a few monsters under my belt. I honestly had the foolhardy idea that I could handle anything out there. God, I was an idiot.
The supernatural never crossed my mind until that evening, stopping to fuel up my red 1992 Peterbilt 379 and paying for the gas with the attendant and restocking up on those beef jerky sticks and coffee.
That was when I noticed her. She was a young woman about in her mid 30s looking like one of the corporate types with the short hair cut and business suit. I would have not paid her any mind if it wasn’t for the touch of apprehension on her face as she talked on one of those new fangled bright yellow Nokia cellphones. Soft strands of chestnut hair framed her face, their gentle sway moving as she glanced around while talking on the phone. As I observed her, I couldn't help but notice the way her fingers trembled slightly, when trying to get money out of her pocket. I’ve seen that type of fear before. So, like a creep, I eavesdropped on her call.
“Yes, it happened again,” she had said as the nickels finally made it to the counter to pay for her snacks. “I could have sworn there was something outside the window near the edge of the forest….no, of course the security cameras didn’t pick up anything. They’re cheap. Ronald was a skinflint when it came to things like this. Hope he’s rotting in hell wherever he is.”
My mind began to drift away, more annoyed I couldn’t get a move on it. It sounded like a problem for the police and if anything, I was gonna tell her that. It was what she said next that made me stop and brought back the reality of the world.
“Yeah. like nine or ten feet tall. I’m thinking kids are playing around with scarecrows or something. Won’t come from the edge of the forest and when I check, I can see foot impressions and stuff. I already put in a call to the cops. They found nothing.“
“Did it sway a bit and its eyes seem to glint like a cats or owl?” I asked without thinking.
The look I got from both her and the gas attendant made me realize what I had done. Well, too late now.
“I’ll call you back,” she said quickly, eyeing me as she hung up the phone and slipped it back into her purse.
“You need me to walk you to your car, ma’am?” the attendant asked, staring at me.
Of course, I forgot that The Truck Stop Killer had only been arrested a few years before.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she said, quickly gathering her stuff and making for the door. I slapped the one hundred and seventy bucks on the counter to pay for my diesel guzzler ignoring the change and followed her out but making sure to not move in a way that caused the teenager in the station to call the cops.
“Ma’am,” I called out to her and she turned to me while hurrying up her pace.
“I’ve got pepper spray. Stay away from me.”
“The thing in the woods. You could have sworn you smelled fresh dirt like mulch and it seemed to sway back and forth like it could not keep its balance.” I threw it out there in desperation.
She froze and turned to look at me. Eying me up and down as I kept my distance and angled to head towards my truck.
“How do you know?”
“I…uh…dealt with something like that before. On a job in Canada.”
“Who are you?” she asked, looking at my faded shirt and company logo. “A trucker?”
“I moonlight as a problem solver. Like an auditor of sorts.”
“Who is it?” she demanded, eyes still affixed to me and hand in her purse.
“Better question is ‘what is it?’,” I answered.
I have learned to pick up on the contempt and disbelief from people who hadn’t seen what I have. I was already being dismissed as a whack job.
“You have tracks on your porch you have written off as animals, especially if you own a dog. If you did own a dog, it’s missing. Cops told you it ran away. You got a garden?”
“Yes,” the certainty had started to leave her voice. “A walled garden.”
“And anytime you’re in there, you feel like you’re being watched.”
At that, her hand came out of her purse empty and she approached me with the fear I had seen in her eyes now on her face.
“How did you know?”
“I’d rather not explain out here,” I said sheepishly running my hand through my sandy brown hair that only started getting flecks of gray. “But you got a…pest problem.”
“And you can do something about it? I’ve had exterminators, cops, nature lovers…even a priest.”
“None of those won’t do you any good and I don’t want to scare ya but it’s more active which is not a good sign.”
For a few moments, I could see the indecision in her eyes. The desperate want to dismiss me as a lunatic but whatever she had heard or seen won over.
“Fine. You can follow me to the house.”
“Mind if I hitch a ride?”
The woman started but then looked at my truck. “Promise. I mean you no harm. I really think you’re in danger.”
That was when I found her name was Isabelle Walker.
We left my truck in long-term parking after she told the attendant that I was a long lost relative and that’s why the change of demeanor. I don’t know if he believed her but at that point, I don’t think he cared. I left my truck with its metallic frame standing tall and proud amidst the rows of other vehicles.
I did not realize how desperate this woman was until we got going on the road. I had loaded myself in the passenger seat after pulling out my military backpack from the war which I also used for my auditing services and tried to look as harmless as a man of my stature could.
For the first fifteen minutes of the drive, her focus was on the lonely road, those beautiful eyes darting to me anytime I shifted my weight. I didn’t want to scare her so it was her that spoke first.
“What is it?”
“I really don’t know but the people in my profession call it a Bone Walker.”
The nose crinkled in disbelief.
“Halloween is not for a few more months, Mister…”
“Jones. Frank Jones.”
The James Bond reference caused her to snort in amusement.
“I don’t know what to tell ya, ma’am, except I’ve dealt with some pretty scary things out there. Normally I’m never this forward as most people try to call the cops on me or dismiss me as a lunatic. I mean, I could be a lunatic but I know what I’ve seen.”
“And that is…?”
“You know. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves. They’re real. They’re not common but real nevertheless.”
“Really?”
There was still the disbelief in Isabelle’s voice but I grew to ignore things like this.
“Sure. I mean, think of all the things you experienced and be open to alternate answers.”
Isabelle was quiet for a few minutes and then sighed. “Either you are telling the truth or you're the biggest liar and I’m a fool that’s not going to live through this night.”
“I promise,” I tried to reassure her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
After a few more minutes and off the main highway, we approached her home. The large house stood resolute amidst the dense, ancient forest, its weathered exterior a testament to the passing of time. It was a grand structure, its imposing presence commanding attention. The sprawling estate exuded an air of mystery and faded grandeur, as if it held stories whispered through generations.
As we pulled in, the main house loomed before me, its facade adorned with intricate woodwork and worn stone. Ivy crept along the walls, weaving an emerald tapestry that hinted at the passage of years. The windows, framed by elegant yet slightly cracked panes, stared out into the world with a mixture of curiosity and melancholy.
To the side, a large shed stood detached from the main house, its weathered boards echoing tales of forgotten tools and lost endeavors. The wooden structure sagged under the weight of time, its roof covered in a patchwork quilt of moss. Inside, shadows danced amidst remnants of a bygone era, rusty equipment and dusty shelves attesting to the once-bustling activity that had long since ceased.
Not far from the shed, a family cemetery nestled amongst the ancient trees. Tombstones, adorned with intricate carvings and weathered inscriptions, dotted the landscape. The hallowed ground exuded a solemn tranquility, as if time stood still in reverence for those who rested eternally in its embrace. Wisps of fog clung to the grassy knolls, lending an ethereal quality to the sacred space.
At the far end of the property, an old walled garden stood as a testament to the house's former splendor. Once vibrant and lush, the garden now appeared overgrown and untamed. Stone paths meandered through a sea of tangled foliage, leading to hidden nooks and forgotten corners. Dilapidated stone benches, adorned with intricate carvings, sat scattered throughout the garden, silent witnesses to a time when laughter and conversation filled the air.
As I stood amidst the silence of the forest, the house, shed, cemetery, and walled garden formed a tapestry of history and mystery. They were a testament to the ebb and flow of life, the remnants of a bygone era that clung to the present. Within their weathered walls, secrets whispered and memories danced, waiting to be discovered by those who dared to venture into their enigmatic embrace.
“Great place to be haunted, huh?” she said with sarcasm. “My ex left it to me in the divorce. Was only going to be here long enough to sell it but no one wants it and my job wants me to move to this state anyway.”
“Where are you originally from?”
“California.”
“So, this is definitely a change of scenery for you,”
Isabelle only hummed back at me as she fumbled for her keys in the dying light of evening. I pulled my backpack closer to me as my eyes scanned the treeline where the shadows had begun to deepen. Nothing stood out against the silhouettes of ancient trees which was a good sign. I wasn’t too late.
Stepping through the weathered front door, I entered the interior of the old house, greeted by a mix of nostalgia and faded elegance. The air carried a hint of mustiness, a reminder of the countless years the house had to have witnessed. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the stained-glass windows, I could make out the clash between old decor and the modern furniture Isabelle had bought.
The foyer, adorned with a worn, threadbare rug. The walls, once adorned with portraits and intricate wallpaper, now bore the markings of time's passage. The wooden banister of the grand staircase, polished with use, creaked softly under my touch as we made our way towards the living room.
Moving further into the house, I found myself in a spacious living room. Large, ornate windows which would have allowed slivers of daylight to filter through the heavy velvet curtains. The walls were adorned with faded wallpaper. An aged fireplace, its stone mantle adorned with trinkets and old photographs, served as the heart of the room.
“You want some coffee?” Isabelle asked, throwing her keys on to the coffee table. I sat down on her couch and dropped my backpack on it with a clunk.
“Sure.”
“Sugar?”
“A lot.”
The kitchen light clicked on and I heard her moving about setting up the coffee pot. The adrenalin was now pumping through me as my mind raced. I’m not going to go into a lot of detail on what a Bone Walker is but it’s a creature that usually haunts the western coast. It being so far out east was strange. I pulled out my old gun bag and unrolled it. My Stevens Model 520-30 “Trench” shotgun was the first thing I reached for as I popped open the internal pouch holding he high flash shells I was glad I packed. It was the startled sound from Isabelle that made me quickly look up.
She stood there with my coffee, eyes locked on the shotgun in my hand. I slowly held up one of the cartridges I was planning to load.
“Flash powder shotgun shells. No load. Just makes a loud noise and a bright white light. What we’re facing lives in the shadows and hates light…normally,” I had heard stories that they could strike in the day but it was extremely rare. She didn’t need to know that.
“Oh,” was her quiet response. “Do…do I need a gun?”
“You know how to use one?”
“No.”
“Then it’ll do more harm than good. You got any flashlights?”
Isabelle nodded mutely, the gravity of the situation sinking in at the array of weapons and items in my pack laid out in front of her.
“Go get them.”
While she was gone, I quickly unloaded the silver bullets out of my Makarov pistol (a gift from a Viet Cong officer and a story for another time) and placed normal 9mm rounds in the clip. I had it holstered under my jacket with the two back up clips when she returned with three cheap flashlights.
“One in your hand and one in your pocket.”
“Why?”
“In case you drop the one you are holding.”
The woman obeyed silently.
As night fell quickly around us, I slung my shotgun over my shoulder and with Isabelle close, we made our way upstairs. There were tell tale signs I needed to check as the only advantage I had over this thing was the fact it stuck to a pattern. If it was at the stage I thought it was, there would be signs.
“Which room is yours?” I asked.
Isabelle pointed to a door down the hallway across from a large window. Approaching it, I quickly shined my flashlight at the mahogany door frame. It was the glint that caught my eye. Deep gouges in the wood.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Claw marks,” I responded. There was no use sugar coating anything now.
“This thing was in my house?” Isabelle said horrified.
“For the last few weeks now,” I said, my nose picking up the faint odor of dirt and mud.
“Why didn’t it attack me then?”
“It wasn’t time.”
“What?”
Talking was going to be the only thing to keep her focused. I had felt the world shift a bit as night fell and I needed her not to panic.
“Bone Walkers are ritualistic creatures. They are very choosy over their prey. It can take a month or two before they move in. That’s why they are so hard to catch.”
“Criteria? Like what?”
“We don’t know.”
That was the honest truth. The only reason we knew their existence and patterns was thanks to blind luck and people surviving their encounters. I showed my light around looking for other signs. Discolored stains in the corners where shadows would naturally form, healthy moss and mold that shouldn’t be there. I found a patch around her bed. She did not notice and I did not want to tell her that it probably stood over her through the night watching her sleep. The sooner I buried this thing, the better.
“Frank!”
There was a trill of terror in Isabelle’s voice and I immediately looked to where she was. The woman was standing by her bedroom window staring out at something. I quickly moved and spotted what she saw. In the forest, at the edge of the shadow cast by the moonlight was an almost, imperceptible form. It stood nine feet, hunched over like a broken scarecrow, its owl like eyes staring back at us.
“Shit,” I muttered. Thank god we had turned on the lights as we went.
It was the flash of light and the crack of thunder that heralded the arrival of the storm. The lights of this old houses flickered which caused my belly to flop a few times. My brain was on fire as I glanced back from the lightbulb to where the creature was and found it had vanished.
“Where did it go?”
I did not have time to explain as another crack of lightning caused the lights to dim. I grabbed Isabelle roughly by the arm and yanked her back down the hallway towards the living room where I had left my stuff. We barely made it to the living room when the lights dimmed low. I grasped the glow sticks out of the bag, cracked a handful and scattered them about, their bright yellow light beginning to glow. The power then went out bathing us only in the eerie glow of the emergency lighting.
As we waited in breathless anticipation, the storm struck, its wrath manifesting in torrential rain. The mansion seemed to respond, succumbing to a power outage that plunged us into an abyss of blackness only moments before.
A trill of terror coursed through me. I knew this Bone Walker thrived in darkness, using it as a cloak to conceal its malevolence. We auditors were not sure if it actually teleported or it preferred to move in pitch darkness. I just knew that the black was our biggest threat.
For a few moments, we could only hear the ragged breathing of the two of us being drowned out by the pounding rain against shingle and glass. Isabelle had wound her hand into my jacket pocket and was gripping it tightly, I could feel her shaking with terror. I kept my shotgun gripped tightly in my hand listening for the tell tale sound of its arrival.
It was the movement out of the corner of my eye and the fact her grip got tighter on my jacket. I swiftly turned on my high-powered flashlight as I spun around and the brilliant beam pierced the obscure corner of the room. No matter what I had read or seen before did not prepare me for what I saw.
It stood there in the corner, its eight foot height engulfing that section of the house. My eyes strained as it appeared the thing was struggling to stay in focus. Its arms were too long for its body, spindly and almost to the floor while the legs appeared backwards giving it a strange forward leaning look. It wore a hunter’s long coat and trousers but through the rips and tears I could make out something squirming and moving underneath. The air filled with the stench of decaying plants and diseased vegetation. Its face was covered with what looked like the remnants of a cheap bandanna but its owl-like eyes gleaned back with malevolence.
Isabelle whimpered, her fear palpable in the room and the Bone Walker lunged toward us. Even though my fear was ripping through me like an unstoppable train, I had the sense to pull the trigger of my shotgun aimed in its direction. The flash and resounding roar painted the entire room in a brilliant black and white shadow causing every corner and edge to appear thick and vivid. The creature screamed and fell to the side into the shadow not illuminated by the weapon’s fire.
Isabelle had thrown herself on the couch and was huddled there, trembling with terror, while I moved quickly to crack a few more glow sticks and toss them into the dark corners of the room. In one, I saw its foot recoil back into the kitchen where it was darker than night itself. This was quicker than I had anticipated. The plans I had been formulating on the drive were no longer viable. I wanted to lure it to where I controlled the battlefield but that was not an option anymore. This had become a cat and mouse game and I knew this was with a predator I could not even hope to understand and had years to hone.
Out of the kitchen again this thing charged forward, relentless in its pursuit, it was trying to find a way around my light barrier which only appeared to slow it down. With shaking hands, I fired several more rounds, each blast forcing the creature to retreat and the girl to scream in terror. As soon as it retreated to a dark part of the house, I turned to where the woman of the house had been. To my horror, Isabelle's fear had gotten the best of her. In that moment of panic, she darted from the safety of the light, towards the hallway and the door outside.
“Isabelle! Stop!” I yelled trying to command her back with my voice but I doubted she heard me. Between the abject horror and the relentless rain, she was going to take her chance. A chance I knew she did not have.
I only took a step when I sensed it. The musty smell of an organic landfill overwhelmed me as the form silently darted past me, its long arm clobbering me up the side of the head. The world spun as pain burst through my brain. I felt the world tilt and fall heavily to the ground, flashlight and shotgun falling away.
As I slipped in and out of consciousness, I knew I was a sitting duck for this thing. There was no way for me to stop it from ripping me to shreds like some of the corpses I had seen. As I blinked, I came to my senses and realized I was alone. How long I had actually been on the ground, I did not know.
I sat up, my head pounding and I could see the door hanging open, the wind slamming the door on its hinges and the rain soaking the hallway floor. Struggling, I found my flashlight and gun and pulled myself together.
There was a slim chance that Isabelle was still alive. I had to think. Where would it go? I ran all the stories I could think of and then it hit me. The garden. The walled garden.
I charged into the rain-soaked night. I sprinted toward the enclosed garden at the edge of the property. As I grew closer, I saw that the rusted door was open and hope flickered in my soul. As I came to a stop, I brought my flashlight up again with my shotgun and saw it.
This creature stood there in the middle of the overgrown garden, its massive clawed hand wrapped around Isabelle’s chest and holding her up. Out from under its bandanna mask, putrid vines had appeared and led up to Isabelle’s face where they were forcing their way down her throat and up her nose. I could see the wide terror in her eyes as vines were snaking their way around her waist and I did not want to think about what they were planning to do.
I brought up the shotgun again and fired. Knowing that I had distance, the flash of light caught the creature by surprise. It shrieked as it fell back. Trying desperately not to release its prey. I did not hesitate to grab the machete at my side and hack at its arm until Isabelle fell down free of it.
It’s claw swiped at me striking me on the leg and easily tearing through my pants leaving bloody lacerations but I put the weapon point blank and fired another round. I do not know if it was the flash, the combination of the creature, or that the almighty above was looking out for me, but the creature caught ablaze from the spark.
It fell back swinging wildly as the fire spread unnaturally fast catching the plants around it on fire. Within a matter of seconds, the walled garden had become ablaze with the bone walker in the center. As I ripped the vines out of Isabelle’s mouth and dragged her towards the door, I looked up to see those owl-like eyes looking at me with such abject hatred that the look stick with me today.
I honestly don’t know how we survived. I had helped Isabelle to her porch and we both passed out against our will from the sheer terror and exhaustion. We were awoken by the sound of a siren. The lights had come back on sometime in our sleep and the rain had drifted off to a comforting drizzle. The fire was still raging in the garden but contained by the ancient walls. At least two fire trucks, an ambulance and cops were flying up the private road towards us.
This entire hunt had been ill-planned and stupid. I knew it. As the cops approached with their hand on their pistols, I knew that I had allowed my own ego to get in the way. I should have taken Isabelle somewhere else until I had done a proper reconnaissance. I shouldn’t have taken her home where it was waiting. And now, the cops were looking at two thoroughly soaked humans, one a trucker with a wound and a gun and a young lady in distress. I was pretty sure I was going to go to jail.
“Isabelle?” One of the cops and his voice caused her to sit up, relief washing over her.
“Derek!” she wailed. “We were attacked! In the garden!”
Another two cops that had arrived had taken off in that direction while Derek helped the girl up and took her towards the ambulance. The other cop with a comically large mustache looked at me with keen eyes, his hand still on his pistol, sergeant stripes glowing in the light.
“Attacked?”
“Yeah,” I said, sitting up slowly and keeping my hand away from the shotgun and trying not to show the one under my jacket. “Someone came after Mrs. Walker. They were in the garden.”
The cop watched me closely but there seemed to be a recognition in his eyes.
“You by any chance Frank Jones?”
My heart jumped and I must have looked startled as the cop’s face broke into a smile. To my relief, his hand fell away from his holstered sidearm.
“I’ll take that for a yes. My guess is you don’t remember me. Clay Wilson. Santa Fe PD, about six years ago. You helped my partner with a...problem. Nellie Nelson?”
I knew the name but the face escaped me.
“She told me you helped her audit a police union building.”
“Ah, yes,” I said, remembering dealing with the wraith and the twinge in my right arm from it’s bite.
The cop looked towards the fire that was slowly being put out by the fire fighters.
“Any chance this will be one of your audits?”
“Yeah.”
He seemed to think for a few minutes and then nodded.
“Then I think you need to grab that shotgun of yours and hitch a ride with me before too many people ask questions. Whatcha think?”
I nodded. I was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I collected my stuff quickly from the living room and made my way back out where he was waiting. As I limped with the cop to his car, I looked towards Isabelle who was being held by the other. She gave me a look of thankfulness as the cop looked at his partner with confusion.
“Her brother’s got her,” Clay said, opening the back door for me. I was not gonna argue or fight. If he took me to jail or not.
And that was it. My leg was not as bad off as I thought and wrapped it in the back of the police car. Clay only asked where I wanted to go and he took me back to my truck. With that time, I was back on the road with that small town in the rear view mirror.
I never did find out what happened to Isabelle after that, if another creature came looking for her or if she had a chance to live in peace. I just knew that we both barely made it out alive and that was due to my own stupidity. I was furious with myself for weeks after that and told myself I wouldn’t put another person in jeopardy like that again. At least, despite my idiocy, another life was saved and another monster was put in the ground...I hoped. I never did find out if they found a body.

I'm looking to get a 3 credit card lineup started...
I don't travel or eat out much, I get my groceries at the large retailers (Walmart & Costco), and I have a high mpg car... So it's not super obvious which categories to target. Ive always strongly preferred the high % cashback cards for this reason.
I currently have: -DiscoverIT Card. My longest standing card. -Wells Fargo Active Cash. Opened last yr.
I'm thinking I want to drop the WF card for either the SoFi CC (I bank with them) or PayPal CC as a baseline Cashback card.
Any ideas for a 3rd card? I'm thinking maybe the Amazon Prime card, but I'm sure there's something better with a strong sign on bonus...
What do you all think?

Hello, friends.
Today, we're going to receive quite a lot of exposition about the nature of Strictland through the eyes of Seonghwa. There's a lot to discuss, so let's jump right in.

01: What are your thoughts on the page?

BobbyJ: I have a note on my page that says the Strictland government and economy are further explained in Pt. 3 Intro
GD: Okay. This is a big page
BobbyJ: It's interesting that emotions aren't fully abolished. They're just severely dulled. Which obviously reminds me of The Giver. And that only art has been abolished specifically.
GD: Yes, I think that's right. I feel like we should go paragraph by paragraph with this one because there is a lot
BobbyJ: From the top then?
Once again, it feels that we're left to infer what has happened in the meantime
GD: Yes, the first line makes it feel we're getting the Halateez story from the Grimes’ perspective, but then we get a lot of world building details to help us understand it. Are we to assume that the Grimes siblings think these boys look like Halateez? Or do they not know? Because Halateez wore masks?
BobbyJ: No, I think Ateez probably were like "What's the deal with this place?" And the Grimes Boy has been filling them in on the story. The entry starts at the end of the story and then fills us in
GD: A note: "the entire human race"
We've talked before about whether there is a world outside of strictland. And you know, I still don't know? Maybe that's a future goal? Or Z is in charge of the entire human race, which feels... big
BobbyJ: Yeah--it feels more like the simulation says "the entire human race would benefit from this thing" and Z just applies that structure to his world he somehow is in control of. And by his world, I mean more the country/area he's in charge of
GD: I'm in this second paragraph here, and I guess I'm just thinking that Z isn't wrong. Human emotions do cause crime and terrorism. But it reminds me of the gun debate we're currently having in our country? And all of the politicians who want to blame it on mental health? which is part of the problem, but it isn't the whole problem
BobbyJ: I disagree. It's true that we can't control our feelings. But our feelings do not dictate what we do or how we act. It's the will to do something wrong for the sake of selfishness or greed--which I don't classify as emotions
GD: I guess I'm saying that I think human emotions are a cause, but not the cause
BobbyJ: Mental health is also a factor, I think
GD: I think I am more sympathetic to Z and the simulation. I do think human emotions can lead to crime and terrorism, but they can just as easily lead to beauty and joy. So if you get rid of human emotions, you probably will stop some crime, but you will also stop other things.
BobbyJ: I am not sympathetic to Z because I don't feel this is as benevolent as it might appear. It feels very sinister to me. "This is all for you" is bullshit
GD: I can see Z as the hero of his own story--a Thanos type character--but we don't really know enough about him at this point.
BobbyJ: This is full speculation, but do we think Z also agreed to have his emotions limited and memories removed?
GD: Almost surely not. Those rules don't apply to people who can be trusted, I assume
BobbyJ: "Central government.” Implies, like, the existence of branches, no? Which makes me think the world is bigger than it feels
GD: Does the Korean government currently have branches? I know they have a president, but I guess I don't know much else about how power in the government works there. Like I don't know if they have legislative bodies, how powerful the judicial branch is, etc
BobbyJ: It appears it is similar to the U.S. After reading for two minutes
GD: Helpful context though
BobbyJ: Their president can only serve one five-year term. Means nothing but is interesting. Kinda wish we had that same policy these days
GD: For sure
I want to talk about art. Art with a capital A. Art=emotion
BobbyJ: Yes. The entire process of creating and engaging with art is based on emotions
GD: Sort of no matter how the individual members of Ateez feel about their lore, I have always felt that they embody that philosophy. Just this idea that Art is Important?
I talked about this the other day, but I was very impressed with KQ hiring a local artist for the billboard promotion during anchor. I thought it was very thematic, and also that it sort of embodied a lot of the ideas that they do put out in their diaries. Because as you mentioned earlier, art is the only thing that's banned
BobbyJ: I'm thinking about this idea of songs that give me negative feelings vs. songs that give me no feelings at all. I don't know exactly what I am thinking. But it reminds me of a chat I had with a fellow yearbook advisor years ago
He said that when his staff is trying to decide on their artistic direction for that year's volume, they'd go through a bunch of magazines and everyone would pick out spreads they really like. They'd pin them all to a bulletin board. Then each staffer would get two colors of push pins. They'd all use one color for spreads they like and one for spreads they hate. He said that after the exercise, they'd remove all the spreads that received none or few pins while those that had a lot of either love or hate pins they'd keep.
And I thought it was interesting that the hated spreads were kept. And his reasoning was that those spreads made the staffers feel something. It wasn't a good something, but it was something
GD: That is interesting
BobbyJ: And when I apply this idea to music or movies or tv or art--the things I actively dislike do stick with me while the things I just nothing fade away
GD: It reminds me of book clubs in a way? Like, in my book club, we have a great book club discussion when everyone loves or hates the book. If people are like, yeah, it's fine, the conversation is so.... nothing.
BobbyJ: Is it. . . harder to talk about things that we love actually?
I can't help but notice that whenever there's a heartfelt appreciation post, it gets very little traction and engagement. But if someone does an "unpopular opinion" or "things you hate about the group you love" post, suddenly everyone has something to share. Perhaps we've talked about this before. Justifying why you dislike something is easier than justifying why you love something?
GD: So I sometimes wonder if, when it comes to music, the problem is one of vocabulary more so than a lack of desire? Like, most people have taken a basic literature class, so when we love a book, we can all universally talk about things like plot, structure, characters--we have some sort of shared understanding of the parts of a story and can discuss and identify the things that we like
It's different for music. I do not know how to identify the parts of a song or the instruments or just the music things that are happening. Music knowledge and vocabulary is so much more niche, so I do think that makes it harder to discuss and pinpoint music that we really love--because we're experiencing it fully emotionally, the context and words all removed. So I do think with music especially, it is easier to talk about the things that we dislike.
BobbyJ: But shouldn't your dislike also require vocabulary? I remember when I was trying to rant about O.O I didn't have any of the words so I had to resort to metaphor
GD: I think it's possibly easier to come up with metaphors for things we dislike than things we love. I can only describe listening to Jongho as like looking into the face of god so many times before I start to sound like I'm slightly insane.
But you know, people don't have the right words to describe why they dislike something all the time--and they just go forward with the wrong words. How many times have you seen someone say "Ateez's music is too noisy for me" when Ateez has possibly two songs in their discography that could be labeled noise music? "I don't like the autotune" when there's barely any autotune
BobbyJ: People do seem to have Feelings about Ateez music. Which I would argue supports the idea that Ateez are making Art
I do wonder exactly what Z classifies as art
GD: I for sure agree with you. It's like that conversation about what a cover should be from the other day: you can like or dislike what Ateez does when covering another group's song, but they will be changing it to achieve their own artistic expression. They will not make you a copy. They will make new art.
We know paintings. Music seems implied.
BobbyJ: Fashion probably? Which makes me think it's interesting that Left Eye specifically is a former designer. But it wasn't the art ban that made him give up designing
Actually, reading ahead. I'm not sure fashion was banned after all? It's hard to tell
GD: I guess it's interesting to me because anything can be art. A house, a car, furniture? Given the right person making those things, they can be art just as easily as they might not be art.
So I do wonder if Z is defining Art more broadly... like, art is not this thing, but art is anything that incites an undue amount of emotion
BobbyJ: Right--I was just thinking, is all music art? And I would argue no if the person writing a song is not doing it for the sake of expression but for the sake of making money. But if that song evokes emotion in someone else, I'd say yes, it is art.
GD: We do have those prohibited signs from Rhythm Ta, which calls out "art, music, dance"? Am I remembering that correctly? Or is it "art, music, emotion"?
What does it mean for something to be defined as art is really a question courts have struggled with for many, many, many years. So it's possible that even in Z's world, what is art is a question that is constantly influx and being redefined
[BobbyJ provides screenshot of Rhythm Ta stage]
Okay, so art, dance, and music are Art specifically.
"Art" lower case art, I'm assuming is paintings, drawings, sculptures. The physical arts.
BobbyJ: Right. Literature and fashion aren't mentioned. Or acting. But maybe they fall under the general Art umbrella. Keeping it vague gives Z more control
GD: Do you know the supreme court case where the supreme court tries to define art?
I feel like I should look it up to get that quote. Hold on--I need to check something
[GD checks something]
So in Tutton v. Viti, the supreme court implied that it is up to the creators to define whether the thing they created is art. The case was about sculpture, and whether these sculptors who were copying sculptures were engaged in the act of creating art
BobbyJ: Just straight up copying?
GD: And basically, they said the sculptors were artists due to their skill despite the lack of creative merit. They weren't trying to like, sell them. It was creating replica sculptures in art class. Which would violate copyright (if they were selling them)
BobbyJ: So, like, if I do a cover of a BTS song and I sound identical to BTS, I'm still an artist . Hypothetically
GD: If you perform it with good enough skill, according to the US Supreme Court, it seems so
BobbyJ: Wait--they weren't selling them? Then what was the problem? How did it end up in the Supreme Court?
GD: I have not read the full case and it is extremely old, so hard to parse, but it seems the original sculptor did not want them making replicas in their art class and argued they were not allowed to do it because it wasn't real art
BobbyJ: Artists do studies all the time where they basically copy other artists' work in order to learn techniques
GD: And the supreme court said, no, they can do that. Which, exactly. This is a precedent that holds. If you do art and sell it, I can't copy it and also sell it. I can however copy it and use it for my own personal use (legally--that doesn't mean it's ethical, but legally)
BobbyJ: Well, it's the same idea as me copying a designer dress and making it myself and for myself because I don't want to spend $800 on a dress
GD: Like if someone made something on etsy that I wanted, and I didn't want to pay for it, I can legally copy it for myself. Right, the supreme court would define both of those things as artistic endeavors
BobbyJ: Huh. I mean--I don't disagree. I'm also not certain it needs to be termed as "art"
GD: Terming it "art" is how they protect it because art is a protected right under the constitution
BobbyJ: Wait--if art is also a protected right in the South Korean constitution, then that would imply that Z was able to change the constitution. Which is wild. How long did this process take?
(Also, assuming that Strictland was originally more like South Korea)
GD: We'd have to review the South Korean constitution. I don't know for sure that it is a right because I know nothing about their legal system. But because art is protected under our constitution, I have always defined art fairly broadly. So considering art being banned, is putting me in a different head space
BobbyJ: Article 22: All citizens shall enjoy freedom of learning and the arts.
GD: I'm now looking up how to make constitutional amendments in Korea
BobbyJ: I mean if they also had a National Assembly, he got the bill passed there
GD: It makes me think I've gone pretty far afield here
BobbyJ: If we're thinking about it, I guarantee the Intern also thought about it
GD: I would like to note that "people enjoyed material affluence"
BobbyJ: Yes, I have a sticky note about that
GD: And I am thinking of Maslow's hierarchy? Which I know is something we've also discussed a lot. But I am wondering, how many citizens weren't having their basic needs met when they agreed to give up art?
BobbyJ: Right. Is art part of our Maslow?
A lot probably. There had to have been problems in order for people to accept Z's proposal
GD: It's certainly easier to give up art if you're not currently able to eat
BobbyJ: Mingi comes to mind. Which I think is when we were discussing Maslow
GD: I have argued, and I will still argue it, that art should be part of human's basic needs. Like, it can make the rest of it all seem less grim for some people. But yeah, if you don't have a place to live, don't have any food, are struggling to just survive, giving up art for the promise of having your basic needs meet will be very appealing to many people
BobbyJ: I think I would argue that art belongs on the "love and belonging" tier which is about friends, family and connection. Art helps us connect with ourselves and others and the world around us. Like, you read a poem that perfectly describes how you feel. Or Ateez releases Turbulence and you swear they pulled the lyrics straight out of your soul
GD: Mmmmmm. . . and love and belonging aren't actually that low on the pyramid. High I mean. They're not that high--they're in the middle
BobbyJ: But you can't really fully reap the benefits of that tier if you are starving to death. And self-actualization is pretty meaningless if you aren't connected to other people in some way
GD: I spend a lot of time thinking about self-actualization which I forgot was even on this pyramid. I'm looking at the pyramid now, obviously
Yes. Art is love and belonging. I've decided you're right. So they've traded in love and belonging for the two things below it
In the next paragraph, they say that the songs had "the power to attract people" which I think is interesting
BobbyJ: The "various fields" is interesting to me. I think of people in different lines of work. Like scientists, teachers, lawyers, etc. But I'm not sure that's what it means
GD: I had long ago been confused about who the black pirates were and how they related to halaateez, but this line makes it pretty clear that halateez sort of inspired other people to get out of Z's control, and then those other people formed the black pirates
BobbyJ: Right. Halateez are "men wearing black fedora.” The Black Pirates is the name of the resistance
GD: Halateez "stimulated" them. Which, with what we know from Halazia, makes sense that the resistance seems to venerate them? Because they weren't necessarily a part of, and well known, to the resistance. They were merely the inspirational rallying cry. Does that make sense?
BobbyJ: Like Katniss. Not everyone knew her but they knew OF her
GD: Yes, and I'm interpreting Halazia as showing us what Strictland thought of halateez, not that halateez appear in the MV because I do not think they do.
Back to your point, what do you think people from various fields means if not different positions?
BobbyJ: I wondered if it meant more physical location. Although, if you have people with different skills and specialties, it would explain how the resistance is able to start fighting back
GD: Do you think it could mean something similar to stations too? Like, young, old, rich, poor, etc
BobbyJ: Could be.
GD: Skipping to the last line, we have Hwa sort of repeating a line similar to Hongjoong's in the first entry? What's important is getting back home. And they can't do that now
BobbyJ: Right. They haven't grasped their place in this story yet
GD: I read ahead because I couldn't stop myself and the jump is fascinating "we have to get back home" to "I won't come back home"
BobbyJ: I have also read ahead but a lot further
GD: Sounds right lol
BobbyJ: Because I became very curious about a different switch--how do they go from we need to get home to let's save this country
And I think I have an idea
GD: That is also the switch I was looking for
BobbyJ: This is way ahead, but after the Receiving of the Suits, in the very next chapter, San discovers the lost memories and feels "a surge of anger.” After that, Yeosang gets caught and all the drama happens with the museum and Yunho's brother. But I think that's the switch. I think it triggers San's empathy. And he spreads the agenda to the others
GD: I am very interested in what's happening with Yunho, but I suppose I need to save my interest for like 6 weeks. I do think we will need to cut this bible study in half
BobbyJ: Expected
GD: Well, this was a big page. It had a lot. We read some constitutions even
BobbyJ: Much was learned
GD: Do we have any more thoughts on the page? Or should we pick a patron saint to hold us to next week?
BobbyJ: I'm sure there's lots more to say. I just don't know what any of those things are.
GD: Perhaps we will have more thoughts on the page next week even. A double round of thoughts on the page
BobbyJ: Might even need a part 3
GD: I've been using an extra ES album to pin the postcard for my patron saint on my bulletin board, and I have appreciated it deeply. Hongjoong has been up for two weeks now
BobbyJ: I feel like the patron saints actually work. Except I didn't have one this past week and that probably explains a lot
GD: I kept Hongjoong, but I do think it would've been wise to have a refresher
BobbyJ: Let's just make sure we do it every Sunday, Bible study or not
GD: Right, even if we cancel bible study, a new, Very Important thing
So, this week, I need to finish the line edit of this book. Which means I need to focus and stay motivated. I think the boy I want to guide me through it is Jongho. I need his professionalism in the face of challenges and his commitment to doing the things that he doesn't like as much because he knows that it is part of his job.
Also, it's hard to think about anything other than his Immortal Songs stage, so I may as well lean in
BobbyJ: Let it be your battle cry
So. This is the last full week of classes. Which means a lot of work to finish off the semester. But, the list is so much shorter than it used to be. So that's something to be happy about.
But also, based on his condition today, I suspect that this might be the week I have to let go of Oliver. [Editor’s note: It was.]
And I think I need San. His ability to embody whatever moment he's in on stage. I don't fully understand how it translates, but I feel it's true
GD: Hmmm yes I think I understand, though I don't have the words either.
There's something about present-ness and humanity in there. I have always thought that San had a real ability to see the human-ness in others and to communicate the human-ness in himself. Which probably only makes sense to me.
BobbyJ: No, I think you're right. There's something extremely real about him
GD: I hope he helps guide you through what has the potential to be a very hard week
BobbyJ: Whatever happens, we keep moving forward. Which also feels very San.
-----
Thank you for joining us today. We'll be back next week with our Seonghwa Sacred Writing Practice. Have an excellent week, and may your personal patron saint guide you well.

You had everything you could ever dream of. You were Rich, you were dating the Quarterback, You were the head of the Cheer Squad, Had all the most popular girls in school begging to be your bestie just for the social credit it brought, You were even the most beautiful girl in all of town! You had it all. The Queen of our little town. You lived it up, burning cash like it didn't mean anything. A Party every night, countless amounts of booze and drugs, and just the most active of sex lives to keep up with your urges. But after one of those such nights...Everything went wrong.
Who would have known letting your Boyfriend drive you home would have been such a bad idea. And how the hell were you supposed to know how much he'd been drinking or how much coke he'd done, you were a busy girl! You didn't babysit him at every party...And who would have known blowing through a single Stop sign would have been such a poor life choice. You could have handled a cop, you had plenty of money to blow on a ticket or you could always have flashed him...that usually worked if it was a guy. You could even have handled a night in prison! What you couldn't handle...Was an 18-Wheeler hauling lumber. Jake, your Ex, was practically unharmed, getting out of the accident with a few broken ribs and a hell of a lot of bruises. But you on the other hand...Your dad had always told you to keep your feet off of the dash, but that was just to keep the dirt off. Turns out that when an airbag deploys, it kicks really fucking hard...
You woke up in the hospital after 6 weeks in a Coma. The mix of blunt force trauma, internal injuries, and minor brain damage had forced them to put you under till your condition improved. Your face was bruised and broken, but they told you that you'd make a full recovery. Your hands were shattered, and while they'd never be 100% again, they told you that you should regain 60-80% functionality if you stuck to the therapy they assigned. What they couldn't fix...was the spinal damage. You originally woke up in a panic, the terror of the situation you had survived weeks ago finally making its way to your brain. The scramble to stand up led to a tumble to the ground as your legs just...wouldn't move...You were thinking so damn hard but they just lay there as the tears started flowing like mad. You actually ended up puking from the stress and anxiety. So obviously, the next few days were...a blur. Barely taking in any information, just...gliding by on autopilot...Something about therapy sessions, something about the new ramps and assistants your father was hiring and having put in...But the entire time this was going on, Not a single one of your friends came to visit. None of the cheer squad, none of the other Party Girls, Not even Jake...You couldn't even text him because your hands were still so damaged, but the few times you tried to call with help, he never picked up.
It took a while till your doctors cleared you to go back to school. And when you got there...It was horrible. Jake had seemingly already moved on, your friends treated you like filth...All your status, all your fame, and reputation were down the drain. Because now you aren't cool anymore. You aren't the girl who has sex in the back of Jake's Mustang whenever he feels like it or the girl does so many shots she blacks out or does so much coke she could fuck all night...Now, you're just the girl who couldn't even go to the bathroom unless there were rails to hold on to. Your life is nonexistent now. So you convinced your Dad to buy a new house halfway across the country to get away from it all...Your father staying behind to deal with his business, but he promised to visit as soon as he could. And so you moved, by yourself emotionally, even if your father had arranged for your new physiotherapist to be on call at all hours.
Today is the first day of your new life, The first day we meet, and the first day you've laughed in months...

Hey there, I know this is a bit of a dark story but I've always had a bit of a thing for dark stories anyways. This is meant to be a slow-burn, wholesome romance RP of an Ex-Popular girl meeting someone who genuinely cares for her despite her injuries. She's not meant to have any major physical deformities, but more than likely has scarring and lots of mental problems since her life changed so much so fast. As I said in the story, her hands were injured in the accident, so you can have them be as functional or dysfunctional as you want, just remember even if they function close to normally, she still has the trauma. If you have ideas or questions, feel free to ask them in a Chat or DM. I hope someone out there is interested in taking a dive into this plot with me. Must be 18+

Hi Waterloo/Kitchener,
Around 3 months ago, I started a Philosophy/Psychology book club and it became a hit in this community.
While that club is great, it didn't satisfy my needs of finding a community around writing fantasy/science fiction.
So I thought maybe there are also some of you who are more interested in joining writing club.
To clarify, this is not a time when we get together and write fiction together. Instead, the intention is much more about critiquing and bouncing ideas on and off from each other so we can grow through analyzing what we have written and get fresh perspectives.
Initial Location and Time
We will meet biweekly. I picked the initial location to be Kitchener Public Library but that can still change.
If you love dragons and spaceships ,and warriors ,and heroines that can wield a sword as much as our emotions, please join :)
If you are interested, you can sign up for the first meeting through this meetup link.
​
If you have any questions, please share below!

Car Insurance Incentive Programs

Can someone provide information about Insurance companies that offer an incentive for good driving. I am asking as I signed up with an insurance program that was meant to provide a discount on my car insurance for good driving. The idea is you download a program that will monitor your 1. Speed. 2 Smoothness and 3. Distractions. The assessment is to take 6 months to get a score. I had a score of 81% over one year. Apparently you need to have a score of 60% or more to get a discount on your insurance. When it was time to renew my policy my insurance rate went higher instead of lower. I called and was told to pay the new rate and when the new contract starts I will be provided with a credit for good driving. That did not happen so I uninstalled the tracking program as it was using a lot of my battery power. Also I was constantly monitored where I went and how fast I went. So now I am told I won't get a discount because I cannot be monitored. But I was not getting a discount anyway. I had checked insurance rates with other companies and they were about the same as my company. So my question is has anyone else had any good or bad experience with incentive programs for car insurance?

I have an iPhone 13 Pro up to date. Yesterday I ported my phone number from Simple Mobile to Mint Mobile. I am not sure if it is related but I just noticed under Apple ID, my Name, Phone Numbers, Email and Payment & Shipping lines are grayed out unless I have Wi-Fi turned on. I have the cellular turned on for Mint Mobile but cellular alone won’t “ungray” those. I have turned it off and on, and I have restarted my iPhone a few times. I have no restrictions set for my iPhone. I can use the cellular to make phone calls, receive/send iMessages, and browse the web no problem.
So, to be clear: When I select Settings/Apple ID, iCloud, Media & Purchases, it goes to the next screen with my name and email at the top along with my photo. Then there are four lines:
Name, Phone Numbers, Email (this is grayed out - nothing happens when I click it)
Password & Security (this is not grayed out - if I click that, it says "Account Details Unavailable" "If you are signing in to iCloud on another device or at iCloud . com, you can get a verification code while offline." "Get Verification Code" "OK")
Payment & Shipping (this is grayed out - nothing happens when I click that)
Subscriptions (this is not grayed out - if I click that, it says "Cannot Connect" "Retry"
If I put the WiFi back on, everything on that screen is available and works fine, nothing is grayed out.
Any ideas why I cannot see this information unless I turn on my Wi-Fi? Can it simply be a weak Internet connection or does a setting need to be changed? Do I need to call Apple or do I need to call Mint Mobile for assistance?

Being told to deal with the Sorcerers now by the shadowy cabal of Asgorath-worshiping monks, I proceeded to do just that.
Well, more specifically, I looked for wherever the hell they holed themselves up in.
The faithful of Bahamut shot me frosty glares as I walked around the city unimpeded, though I did very pointedly give them a very strongly worded letter about spying on me and ambushing me, and that if Nakk wasn't going to tolerate their shit, he wasn't going to tolerate mine.
Hopefully, that bought me some breathing room.
Now, the Sorcerers hadn't fucked off elsewhere, or I would have gotten a lot of questions as to where they went. They still operated in the town, still used their magic appropriately, so it wasn't like they were being assholes about it.
But, considering I was being warned about them specifically, shit was about to go down.
Now, I didn't go alone. Not specifically. I had my Warlocks move about, searching for any clues as to the whereabouts of the Sorcerers.
Naturally, they were extremely dodgy about where they were going.
But, the more we looked, the more we found clues, the more we got closer until we realized they were gathering under the Council Chamber.
So there they were, all nine of them, not counting the however many probably awoke due to my machinations. Nine Sorcerers, Nine Warlocks, and me.
They were gathered around some sort of sacrificial altar that was stained with blood, on which they were very pointedly bleeding on.
"You know-" I said, startling them and causing them to look at me. "-If you'd just been respectful to my Master, you might have gotten more than you could have ever dreamed of."
"Ruuk, what are you doing here!?" Goss hissed.
"Looking for you before you get yourselves killed." I said. "I've been warned twice that you were getting into some shit, and here I find you bleeding all over an altar that isn't even configured right, you fucking idiots."
They shared looks, first shocked, then angry. They started yelling, my Warlocks screamed into their heads to shut up, which caused them all to rub their heads.
"Which one of you has the highest Level?" I asked. "Goss? Taklak? Kashak?"
"I am a solid Level 4!" Molo bragged.
"That's it?" I asked. "Fuck's sake, I'm Level 6. I've been out there busting my fucking ass. We got invaded while you were playing fucking secret society! People died!"
"We wouldn't have lost anyone, if Kurtulmak gave us power!" Hagnar snapped.
"No, we would have lost more." I said. "If you actually cared about the Warren, you would have been out there, leading rather than plotting."
"Says the man who's clearly getting boosted by Kurtulmak!"
I strode toward them, my patience wearing thin. "I want to make something very clear now." I said. "You've wasted more time trying to get stronger than it took me. You think hard work hardly works? Hit me." I removed my armor. "I'm wide open."
They didn't do anything, they just stared at me with wide eyes. "Oh, this? This isn't armor." I said. "It's a sign of my fealty to my Master. Now, Hit me."
The spells were flung at me, and most of them did hurt. "Nine of you." I said, grinning. "And you couldn't even hit me properly. Kneel."
They began backing away.
"I said kneel!" I roared.
They all fell over themselves as they tried to kneel. They all looked terrified.
"I am going to give you exactly one chance to make up for your foolish behavior." I said. "I will call you out one by one, you will approach, you will kiss my hand, and you will swear your undying loyalty to me, your Imperator, and the Empire that our Master will raise. If you refuse, I will end your pathetic excuse for a life right then and there. And if even one of you attacks me, my Warlocks will make that scream in your mind feel like a gentle tickle."
I held my hand out. "Goss." He scrambled over to me and knelt. He took my hand and kissed it. "I swear my loyalty to you, my Imperator, and the Empire our Master will raise." He said.
"Good. Stand among my Warlocks. Arix."
One by one I called their names, and they came. They spoke their vows, all nine of them.
I put my armor back on and said, "Excellent. From this moment on, every hour, one of you will go to my Tower, you will pledge your fealty to our Master, and you will allow him to mark you such that you can never disobey him again." I looked at them. "And if even one of you tries to escape, I will track you down as easily as I have now. You are marked, each and every one of you. I will make your deaths as slow and miserable as I see fit. My Empire has no room for traitors."
"Yes, Imperator!" They said.
"Dismissed."
They all left, clearly trying not to piss themselves or run. I felt a wonderfully powerful sense of pleasure and smiled. "Warlocks." I said. "Continue about your day."
I cleaned up the mess the Sorcerers had made left the Councilor Chamber. I ran into Tallyn on the way out.
"Brother." He said.
"Sibling." I replied.
"What are you doing here?" He asked.
"The Sorcerers were trying to summon a Demon for power." I said. "Considering they tried to petition my Master for power as well- he denied them, rightly noticing they did not care how they got power- I threatened to kill them if they kept trying, ordered them to submit to my Master, whereupon they will be marked such that they will no longer be a threat to the Warren."
He stared at me in utter shock. "Did you-? Do you hear yourself?" He asked in a horrified whisper.
"Brother." I said. "This is an outright Demon we're talking about. We're lucky they're fucking idiots and didn't make their altar correctly, so they were just bleeding on a fucking slab of rock with pentagrams and shit on it. They attacked me. That on top of your fellow Paladins ambushing me and accusing me of conspiracy-" I gave him a pointed look, "-my capacity of mercy is very low at the moment."
"Ruuk... What happened to you?" He asked.
"You and your Temple tried to kill me." I replied. "For the sins of compassion and mercy." I shrugged. "I've tried meeting you and yours half way, I sought atonement out of guilt, to rectify what I had done. I've tried to walk the path of good, and the cold, simply truth is, you and your order have not given me much incentive to continue to walk that path."
He was silent.
"Tallyn." I said, taking hold of his hands. "I miss the days when you were the good brother." I was able to see the exact moment when his heart ripped right in half. I walked right past him. I was tired of his shit, and at that moment, I wasn't going to play his or his Temple's game anymore.
I took a deep breath to try and center myself, as I started heading back for my Tower.
"Has it become your mission in life to leap merrily from the slippery slope?" A familiar voice asked me. I turned around, coming face to face with a gray-scaled Kobold, behind him were seven others with ruddy yellow scales.
"You've certainly changed since I last saw you." Bahamut stated. "A turn for the worse, it would seem."
I gave him a reverential bow. "I take it the Fizban persona wouldn't work now." I remarked.
"No, it wouldn't." He said. "All your doing, it would seem."
"Indeed. My doing." I couldn't help but smile.
"And with such pride as well. Walk with me, and understand I speak with you only because what I have to say is important."
I nodded and walked beside him, his seven companions following as inconspicuously as a septet of yellow Kobolds could- which I had to admit was surprisingly good.
"I am not happy." He stated.
"I sincerely doubt you would." I replied.
"With you, I expected it." He remarked dryly. "My followers have been playing fast and loose with their morals, day by day, their actions speak louder than their affirmations of faith, and what they say is, 'We are only concerned with our own power'. Does that amuse you?"
"No." I replied. "In fact, it pisses me off."
"The gradual corruption of a sect of holy warriors disgusts you?" He asked, his tone carrying a hint of surprise. "For all your posturing about, you still manage to get things done, even if they're via less morally sound standpoints."
"Is there a purpose to this beyond chatting?" I asked.
"Yes." He said. "One way or another, this Warren will become a theocratic nation, your faith spreads like wildfire, while the faith of my followers tapers off. You've manipulated events such that you are winning, and my followers have nobody to blame but themselves."
We stopped in front of the Temples, he looked at them. "Kurtulmak is relapsing." He said. "And you are walking a narrow rope between good and evil. Between judicious rule and tyranny." He looked at me. "And unfortunately, in spite of my best efforts, it is becoming harder and harder to maintain contact with this world."
He paused, then added, "I will, of course, be supporting my faithful, trying to keep them on the correct path, but in the event they utterly fail, and the only option left is you, I would rather the lesser evil of you win than the greater evil that is my sister. This is not tolerance, this is ensuring that no matter what, the forces of good can always pick up the pieces."
"I understand." I said. "And Bahamut... I am sorry things turned out this way."
"Your apology is sincere." He remarked, surprised. "I am sorry for the way I treated you in Darastrixthurhi, I chose the wrong course of action."
"You don't deal in words, but actions." I said. "Therefore your apology is sincere."
"Within the mines, there is a yet-untouched vein of platinum in your Warren's mine, enough to supply enough holy symbols for my Clerics, and to forge one sword, fifth level down, three lefts, and at the far end. I leave it up to you how you will handle that information. And Ruuk, remember the entire point of you remaining down there was because you believed Kurtulmak could be redeemed. Do not forget that can apply to you as well."
He walked away, followed by his cadre of Kobolds.
'I sure as hell don't like his followers...' I thought as I headed for the mines. 'But I definitely respect him a lot more.'
My gear compelled me to do good, and right now, I was in a better mood. I gathered a few miners and told them to follow me. They did so hesitantly, but dug where I indicated. I watched as they dug maybe a half-mile before they yapped.
"There's ore here!"
"I know." I said. "Mine out the entire vein and take it to the Artificers. It's platinum, they're going to need it soon."
I left them to their work and headed for the Artificers. Once there, I had them gather around.
"You will be receiving a shipment of Platinum, once it comes in, you are to create enough Holy Symbols of Bahamut to equip each Cleric, as well as one sword. Once they have finished, you will deliver them immediately to my Tower. Do not tell anyone what they are. Understood?"
"Sure, but why?"
"Simple." I said. "I need them to get the fuck off my case and start realizing they're only hurting the Warren. Their God saw fit to speak with me, so it's in my hands whether or not they continue to measure out rope to hang themselves with."
It was several hours before the crates came in. I wordlessly picked them up and carried them to the Temple.
The Paladins were, of course, pissed when they saw me approaching. "Stop right there!" They snapped. "By the High Priest's orders, you are not allowed in here!"
"Your weapons and your faith isn't enough to stop me." I said. "Fucking try me."
I walked straight up to them, and my attempt at intimidation worked, as they backed away while I walked in.
Galax immediately noticed my entry, as did every Cleric and Paladin in the room.
"Who let you in!?" Galax roared. "I have expressly forbidden you from entry!"
"I let myself in." I said. I walked toward him, glanced around, and sighed. "Do you guys just not believe in tables, or is the whole ascetic aesthetic really this fucking sparse?"
"I am warning you, Stingtail, if you do not leave this Holy Temple, I will have no choice but to kill you."
I wreched the top off the crate I brought in, he glanced at them, then his eyes widened in complete shock. "What..? Those are..."
"Holy symbols to Bahamut, made from the vein of platinum I directed the workers to." I said. He stared at me, clearly incapable of comprehending what I'd done.
"Why..?" He asked.
"Because you've been playing fast and loose with your morals." I said, paraphrasing what Bahamut stated. "Even though you preach Bahamut's words, you've forgotten that actions are how you pray. You've become so enamored with bringing about the perfect theocratic kingdom of Bahamut, that you don't even realize you're telling the people you're only concerned with power."
I handed him the sword crate, which he opened.
"I want you to understand, Galax." I said. "Bahamut came to me and told me where the platinum was. I could have kept it secret, or I could have used it for literally anything else. Because as much as Bahamut was disappointed in you, he wasn't giving up on you. And as much as he's rooting for you, he understands if you fall, it's either the lesser evil in me, or the greater evil in Tiamat. And honestly? I'll gladly leap headlong into Hell if it means keeping this Warren safe. This is your last chance from Bahamut, and your last warning from me. Understood?"
"I understand." He said soberly. He approached me and hugged me. "Ruuk, oh Ruuk... I thought we had lost you."
"You did." I said. "And I'm not coming back into your fold." He let go of me. "I don't know what the fuck you need a platinum sword for, but whatever it is, if it's aimed anywhere near me, I'm exploding people's heads."
I turned around and left the Temple.
Returning to my Tower, I felt the anger I'd been holding in just melt away. I went upstairs and smiled when I was my Emperor was finishing up another armor set.
"That makes seven." He said. "Still far too little, but it's more than we had before."
"Tireless and industrious." I remarked as I approached him. I knelt. "I have news, some you likely won't like."
"Tell me this bad news first." He said.
"Bahamut decided to speak with me." I said. He tensed, his eyes widened as he looked at me. "Thus far, he's not particularly pleased with my... progress, but he's at least indicated he'd rather us winning over Tiamat." I paused. "He also told me of the location of some platinum. I deigned to give his worshipers holy symbols and a sword, as he had directed. As nice as it would be to have them fall under their own stupidity, we still need them."
My Emperor nodded. "There was no correct way." He said. "Keeping Bahamut less inclined to try and smite us is better than his Temple getting holy symbols. Was there anything else?"
"Yeah. I told them what he told me, he wasn't pleased with what they were doing, that they were acting like they only care about power, and that Bahamut came to me rather than them."
"I see." He said. "That devious old bastard."
"What is it, my Emperor?" I asked.
"It's unimportant." He said. "Was there anything else?"
I told him about the ambush, the Shadowscale Clan, and the Sorcerers- he indicated that a few had shown up and pledged their fealty to him, and that due to their transgressions, he ensured they would never disobey him.
"I made them some collars." He said, smirking. "Any time they go against my will, or they try something that will harm the Warren, it chokes them long enough to make them stop." He leered at me and added, "I should have done the same to yours. I'd never have it choke you, but the knowledge alone would have excited you, yes?"
"Not really, my Emperor." I admitted. "I'm terrified of choking."
"Is that so? All the better that I didn't, then." He looked thoughtful. "Tell me, was there any particular logic to your choice of giving Bahamut's Clerics holy symbols and a sword?"
I shrugged. "I don't like his followers." I said. "I told you what I said to Tallyn, I'm sick and tired of them being paranoid about me. Like, yeah, I admit that they have every right to be at this point, but when it was just you and me, they didn't even really give me a chance. It just felt like them going mask off and showing themselves to be no different than any other religion I've had the unfortunate experience to try."
"Yet you respect their God." He mused.
"Yeah." I said. "I do. Everything I've done out of spite was because of those hypocrites, every good word I've spoken to them was a challenge for them to get their shit together. I've never once done anything to spite Bahamut himself- though whether that was simple pragmatism on my part, or some latent desire to serve the first God to accept my challenge to prove they exist... I don't know. All I know is that I don't regret choosing you."
"As should be." He remarked. "These Monks, these followers of Asgorath, have you any thoughts on them?"
"As long as they are true to their word, I could see them having a place in our Empire." I said. "Having a group that's willing to deal with you if you go off the deep end and start oppressing the very people you started out wanting to protect is useful. At the very least, I'll potentially have a warning."
"And do you think Bahamut's Temple has a place in our Empire?" He asked.
"Maybe if they got their shit together." I replied. I looked at him. "My Emperor, was there ever a point you honestly considered compromise?"
"Yes, in honor of a fool who would choose to consign his life to a God he barely knew, simply out of compassion. I am ruthless, yes, I may be a liar when it is convenient for me, and I most assuredly will twist such compromise such that the letter, but not the spirit, is carried out. But when I make a solemn vow, I hold true to it. If you cannot keep a promise, nobody will believe you again."
"And nudging me toward evil?" I asked.
"You took the first step." He said. "Some actions transcend morality. Kindness to one's family, it is not merely good. It is an act that ensures survival, an act that builds trust. There is always room for kindness when it is deserved."
I nodded. "My Emperor... Do you see a place for Bahamut's Temple in our Empire?" I asked.
"Anything can have its place." He replied. "The only grudge I have held for him is that he- self-proclaimed Justicemaker- did nothing simply because our people were born of Chromatic Dragons. Perhaps in those days, we were born into evil, perhaps in those days, we were enemies... Yet they raged, knowing what Garl did was wrong... heinous even. It was targeted retaliation for something his children did first, for the natural result of- I believe the term is 'fucking around and finding out'."
"Good old FAFO." I remarked.
I heard the door open, followed by Molo meekly coming up the stairs. When he saw me, he looked terrified. He approached my Emperor and pledged himself, was collared, and sent on his way.
"Seven out of nine so far." My Emperor mused.
"Good, it means most of them got the memo." I replied. I heard the door open, then shut, followed by footsteps approaching us.
It was the Rogue from earlier. He knelt and said, "Master, Imperator, I am here to report that we have successfully managed to leave beyond the wall and enter our enemies' base of operations. We have managed to do this without being spotted. Our Leader is waiting for you."
I nodded. "By your leave, my Emperor." I said.
My Emperor nodded and I followed the Rogue down a street I've been on countless times, one that was open and public. I recognized the house I was led to as Nakk's, the rogue knocked, and the door opened.
"Councilor Ruuk, thank you for coming. I'm sorry to divert you just to fix some of my stuff." Nakk said amiably, gesturing for me to enter.
I simply nodded and went inside. The moment the door shut, he dropped the amiable demeanor and said, "Thank you for coming, Imperator. This way."
He led me into his house, then into a closet. I didn't expect the floor to move underneath us, but it led us down into a large room.
"You have a basement." I observed.
"This is my base of operations." He said. "This was where our sewer system used to be, cleaning it out was a headache and a half, but since we moved onto more sustainable means of addressing waste- Merti's idea to use it as fertilizer and the Artificers' Guild designing a means of filtering and cleansing urine being particularly inspired- we decided to make use of the existing architecture to ensure our stealthy movement through the town."
"That explains why nobody's really wised up to how you've been spying on everyone." I remarked. "What were your plans, before I found our Emperor?"
"Keep everything stable." He replied. I noticed there were a few Kobold Monks present among the dozens of Rogues. "Rogue, Monk, we're all Shadowscale." He said. "That being said, our Monks are strictly neutral, they made it clear they won't align themselves to a singular ideal, their only interest is ensuring the Warren does not devolve into infighting."
"As I've already seen." I remarked.
"They're happy with how you handled the Temple, though they can't fathom how you found the platinum."
"Bahamut visited me." I said. "I honestly thought he was being obvious."
"That would explain it." I didn't notice the Monk walking on my other side, but it sure as hell startled me. "You are here regarding the recent mission's success, we ensured nobody was detected."
"Our Monks do not identify themselves." Nakk spoke. "I don't understand it, but it's what they agreed was the right course of action, so we just go along with it."
"For the sake of convenience, you may call me Fox." The Monk spoke. "And before you ask, we have all elected to live apart from the Warren. We may walk the streets, but until things have achieved equilibrium, we will continue to observe from the shadows."
I nodded.
We came over to an area where a handful of Rogues were sat. They stood up as soon as they noticed us, and began casting spells to show the interior of our enemy's base of operations. It felt like a punch to the gut, seeing not only electricity clearly being supplied to them, but also having established sinks and refrigerators.
They glut themselves on what we struggled to provide for ourselves, things that needed miracles just to sustain us. Through tears of hatred, I spat out my incantation.
​
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We met in college when he and I were 18 in NYC. We would hang out all the time together. We'd do laundry together. Sit in the company of each other near the city water overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge. But soon, he got a girlfriend and they were together somewhat of freshman year, but then got back together end of Sophomore year, then stayed together all of college. He let go of my friendship at the end of sophomore year, and we hadn't really maintained contact since 2019. I've thought about him every year since, but early this year, I decided to put an end to missing him and wanting him to appear back in my life, or hoping for something to come out of it when it hadn't for so long.
So I decided to get rid of any last evidence of him this year in March. I threw away our polaroid photo that we had of together on the day of my 20th birthday. And what happens the next day? He requests to follow me on Instagram. I allow him to, because, well, there's love in my heart for this person that's never died, and I took it as maybe a sign that he wants me as his friend again. He reaches out to tell me he misses me, that he's sorry about things, and I let him back in and we speak here and there. He also confesses that he used to have feelings for me, and that I was special to him. I mean, after all, he mentions how I was the only girl aside from his girlfriend that met his mom and went to his house and saw his life. Him telling me he used to feel something for me meant something to me. I don't know why, but I guess it validated all the heaviness I felt from the loss of him.
He also says he's been single for awhile now, and they broke up a year ago, and he says he's the happiest he's ever been exiting that relationship. And just recently, I went back to visit New York (I'm from the west coast, but he stayed in NYC after college) and I did see him. AFTER 4 YEARS of not seeing him. We almost hooked up. I say almost, but it did happen for like few seconds. We kissed, but everything felt off. Confusing. And strange. He's the last person on this planet I'd want to have awkward interaction with, but it was awkward and he just didn't go through with the intercourse. He didn't want to do it without protection, but then said whatever, but then stopped, then went to get protection, and then said it wouldn't be a good idea for our friendship. To be honest, I was very tense during the entire interaction and I was anxious, and I was totally, totally acting weird. I know he picked up on it. But I wasn't making much sense. I said things that made it seem like I was desperately in love with him. I don't know if I am.
I don't know what being in love means. But I am jealous of everyone that has him in his life. I am jealous of everyone that gets to experience any moment with him, because I live in California currently, and he lives in New York. I've missed so many things about his life, and I don't want to anymore. But after this encounter, we were meant to meet up before I went back to CA but we didn't. So I sent him a long text, expressing that I don't have feelings, and that I'm sorry about the awkwardness, and he didn't respond to it. I called, too, and he didn't pick up. I left New York, half heartbroken and half confused because I don't know if I lost him again for the second time.
A week without a response from him hurt. But then he responded to my instagram story where I posted "attachment is the root of all suffering," to which he disagreed and said we need attachment as humans to live, and he also apologized for being dodgy and that he's not feeling good mentally. I believe this because since he came back into my life in March, he's been very on and off and inconsistent. But I just don't get what's happening with us. He already said he's not in a place to think about love, or romantic relationship right now. I guess I've given the picture that I want that, even though I'm not sure what I want. I just don't get why he came back, why he played with my mind about old feelings he had, and now he's ghost again.
​
TL;DR: Me and him met in NYC when we were in college at 18. Stopped talking because he got a girlfriend. He recently came back into my life, said he used* have feelings which led me to wonder about the what-ifs. I don't live in New York anymore, I live in California. I recently went to NYC to visit friends and I did see him. We almost had sex, it was awkward, and now we're not really speaking. He said that he's going through a lot mentally, and I believe it because he had said it since he came back into my life, and he already mentioned before that he doesn't want a relationship and that it takes time. But when I was with him in person, I said all the things you don't say to a guy and now he thinks I have feelings for him. So before I left NYC, I sent a long text expressing that I don't and I love him as a friend, to which he didn't respond. But he replied to my instagram story when I posted something about attachment being the root to all suffering, and he said he disagrees and went on to apologize for being unresponsive and said he's not there mentally. Do I let him go? Are we both playing mind games with each other? I think he wanted sex but realized he couldn't with me because I could catch feelings that he's not ready to handle.

Hi everyone, I am open to all third-person perspectives, opinions, and advice on this situation.Thank you in advance.
So, I am moving back into my parents home after 3 years of living with my boyfriend. The reason behind this is because we are moving cross country, and there is no point in signing another lease for only a few months (also we don't really know when we will be leaving because my job is currently transferring me to a different office which takes some time). This means that I will be stuck having to live at my parents home for 1-4 months.
Just some cliff notes about my parents house for some context: My relationship to my mom is great although she is definitely mentally ill and neglected me as a child. She exhibited signs of hoarding throughout my whole life. My stepfather doesn't speak to me at all because I retaliated against him in high school (4 years ago), for him being emotionally abusive towards my mom. He would scream at her until she'd be in tears and I would often scream back. In the middle of all of this would be my step-brother. We don't have a very good relationship, but it's been getting better every time I see him since he's entered his early adolescence. My parent's home is a persistent construction zone. It is a huge dusty mess, and my stepfather starts projects before completing previous ones, which leaves very little habitable clean space to simply exist. My stepfather also sleeps on a mattress on the floor in the living room next to the front door, which he refuses to get rid of. This has been the case for the past 8 years. He is barely ever home and the entire atmosphere of the home changes negatively when he is there.
The reason I moved out to begin with was because my boyfriend's parents kicked him out (they are rich, posh assholes living in a McMansion) in the very beginning of COVID, since they suddenly deemed he had a drug problem and was unsafe to be around. They simply left him to his own devices after enrolling him in an ADULT rehab care facility for marijuana abuse for 6 months and some change, at only 19 years old. He was homeless, and his parents were dismissing him. At that point, we had been together through all of high school, so I thought it would be a wise idea to sneak him into my second story bedroom and have him live there for as long as I could manage. I went as far as installing a rope ladder onto my roof for him, so he could leave to hand out his resume at local businesses that were hiring. I hid him in my 60's themed room, and he had plenty of space to hang out thanks to all my intricate mandala tapestries I had hanging up.
We were so determined to both find jobs so we could move out and not have to deal with our toxic families anymore. However, at a the second week of my rouge operation, my mom noticed that I had left my phone in my bathroom and brought it into my room to give to me. This is when she found my boyfriend and I on my bed watching..... Ratatouille.... Sigh. She flipped out on me and pulled me downstairs while my boyfriend stayed in my bedroom. I explained the situation to her and my stepfather but they were both screaming at me and refusing to listen. Then, my mom called the police and my boyfriend and I packed a bag within 5 minutes.
Long story short, we were homeless for a week couch surfing at my friend's parent's houses and ultimately winded up having to sleep in a tent. Meanwhile, his parents did not care, and my parents took it too personally to see the situation for what it truly was. Two homeless kids in an unsafe park. During our time in the park, we were robbed and shot with BB guns, and even then our parents did not care to let us stay in their home. This shitshow ended with us being able to both find jobs within the span of a month, saving money and renting out an apartment together at not even 20 years old with no help. I was heartbroken.
Fastforward to now, three years later, I work in a major tech company with no degree and received an opportunity to move cross country to a place I've always dreamed of living. I've fostered a healthy, clean home with my boyfriend and my cat, and we are all ready to move. Our lease ends soon, and we will be separating temporarily and living at our parent's houses. I will be with my cat at my moms, which I am very unhappy about.
Today, I tried to talk to her about how stressful of an environment it is for me and asked her if she would consider therapy for the sake of my stepbrother, in the nicest way possible. She got very defensive and very sad. I feel like an asshole. I don't want my immigrant mom to feel like I'm rude or selfish. I could hear in her voice how heartbroken she was when I told her that she exhibits some hoarding behaviors, and that it impacts my brother and I. I also talked to her about therapy and, my stepdad. That she needs to either leave him or work on her marriage for the sake of her children.
I feel awful for having to lecture my mother on this. I also feel awful for getting ready to move as if I'm wiping my hands clean of the very much unresolved situation and moving on. I need advice on how to move forward.
TL;DR I feel awful for having to lecture my mother on this. I also feel awful for getting ready to move as if I'm wiping my hands clean of the very much unresolved situation and moving on. I need advice on how to move forward

Yesterday my project https://saasme.xyz launched on Product Hunt! It climbed up to the #9 product of the day! I launched the landing page on Product Hunt just to gain a bit more attention and I forgot about it. The day that it launched, I checked my email only to realize that my project had gotten 51 upvotes (currently at 65). Initially, I was going to abandon the project but seeing that people are interested in this idea, I'm going to fully pursue it! It was so incredible to see the positive feedback and I can't wait for the full launch. The only hiccup was that I deleted the initial Mailchimp account (because I was not going to pursue the project anymore). So, I lost all of my initial subscribers and anyone who subscribed from the Product Hunt launch did not make it on the list. I've reached out to Mailchimp to try and recover the list. In the meantime, I created a new form and embedded it on the site. So now, whoever signs up will be added to the list. If you're interested in SaaS trends, sign up now to get SaaS trends sent straight to your inbox. https://saasme.xyz/

Yesterday my project https://saasme.xyz launched on Product Hunt! It climbed up to the #9 product of the day!
I launched the landing page on Product Hunt just to gain a bit more attention and I totally forgot about it. The day that it launched, I checked my email only to realize that my project had gotten 51 upvotes (currently at 65).
Initially, I was going to abandon the project but seeing that people are obviously interested in this idea, I'm going to fully pursue it!
It was so incredible to see the positive feedback and I can't wait for the full launch.
The only hiccup was that I deleted the initial Mailchimp account (because I was not going to pursue the project anymore). So, I lost all of my initial subscribers and anyone who subscribed from the Product Hunt launch did not make it on the list.
I've reached out to Mailchimp to try and recover the list. In the meantime, I created a new form and embedded it on the site. So now, whoever signs up will be added to the list.
If you're interested in SaaS trends, sign up now to get SaaS trends sent straight to your inbox.
https://saasme.xyz/

Hi everyone, I've come here for a bit of advice.
Me and my boyfriend have been together for a couple years now, and today he came out as asexual. He told me he wants to stay together, but he definitely wants to eliminate sex and anything sexual.
I, of course, immediately panicked. He never gave me signs or hints, and he sometimes took initiative in sexual activity (though not most of the times). Sex is a pretty important part of the relationship to me, and I felt absolutely disgusting thinking that he might have "put up" with it all this time. I perceive sex as another way to feel loved and appreciated by him.
He told me that he wants a "softer" relationship with me, and that if I ever needed to I could have sex with other people. I absolutely despise this idea as I'm very committed to him and can't even think of having sex with someone outside of a relationship.
Now I'm very scared, because we had a lot of projects and wanted to move together by the end of the year (we're both 23). I really do not know what to do. I definitely don't feel as loved, and the thought that he felt forced to have sex with me haunts me. I feel vile.
I asked a couple friends for advice, and I've been told that we should compromise, and that he should "owe" me some sex every once in a while to make me happy, but that doesn't really sit right with me. I'm afraid that I could become sexually frustrated and unhappy with my life. At the same time I love him immensely and I do not want to break up. He's been an absolutely perfect boyfriend, and the first person that made me feel so appreciated and special. I'm willing to try and live a relationship with him without sex at all, but I just don't know if I have the strength to do it, or if it will get better over time. I'm afraid of touching him or overstepping his boundaries, and I don't know how to deal with this whole situation.
Please, I need suggestion from someone with more experience than me. Should I try? Will it get any easier? Thank you.