My boyfriend(30M) and I (27F) have been together for almost 2 years, living together for 1 year. Everything has been absolutely perfect. We rarely fight, have a great split of household chores, and amazing chemistry. We used to drink a lot, like have a drink almost every night of the week and even more on the weekends. We decided we wanted to be healthier so we did "Dry January" to start the year off. We made it to the 28th, I caved because my best friend had some into town and I hadnt seen her in over a year so we went to a winery for the day. We did better after dry January because it made us feel so much better and cut down on how much we were drinking.
The last 2 months, Ive only been drinking on Friday and saturday nights, and not nearly as much as I used to. I thought my boyfriend was trying to do the same...I knew occasionally he would have a super long day at work and come home and pour a drink, which i totaly understand; He works construction and occasionally they have 12+hour days.
But a few weeks ago I saw 2 empty small bottles of whiskey in his old lunchbox in the garage, weird because we only buy handles of alcohol. I asked him about it and he said it was an old habit from college where him and his friends would buy small bottles when they could afford it to fill up the handle because they couldnt afford to buy a handle. I thought that was werid but moved past it. Then this past weekend, I was emptying the trash in the basement (his mancave) and saw an empty small bottle of a brand of vodka that we have never bought along with a bunch of seltzer and beer cans. I didnt know how to bring this up to him yesterday, but its just been eating away at me.
Neither one of us are much for feelings talks, but I dont want to just ignore this if he truly does have an alcohol problem. We want to have kids in the future and I dont want someone who is drunk all the time around my kids.
How can I talk to him about this is a good constructive way?

My spouse and I argue at times. Most of the time it's over the dumbest things but this time my heads still spinning. So here we go. We love to entertain and had some guests over. We usually provide food and activities around the pool. We planned on cooking a few Cornish hens and a duck that day. I started preparing the food and the duck smelled off. I rinsed it and still it wasn't right. I texted my spouse on my thoughts, without including the guests, about my concerns. My spouse said cook the duck anyway. I resisted. Spouse again said, cook the duck. I said I refuse. At that point, it appeared nothing was going to stop them from accomplishing that task even if they cooked it themselves. I got angry and the conversation got louder to the point the guests were aware we were arguing. I included the guests in the conversation and said that apologize but I was unable to cook the food because of my concerns of its safety. I then said that even if it is cooked I will not be eating it due to those concerns. I said that I was also looking forward to the meal and that we would definitely do it next time and there is plenty of chicken instead. My spouse also mentions the smell but still continues with their goal. These were my spouses friends and they remained neutral which was good on their side. I didn't care how I looked or what I said my only goal was to put it in the trash which I finally did. My spouse was angry with me and has avoided the conversation since. No apologies, no "you did the right thing" no "sorry for my response". Initially, I just expected a quick "sure babe, thanks for noticing" but instead got an argument. Should I have involved the guests in the argument? Was I out of place to make a scene like I did? It all seems so dumb over 30$ of food. Conversation abbreviatied and conveyed from my position. Aita?
Tldr: I believe I prevented guests from eating questionable food. My spouse does not agree.

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The maw of the moss-wolf chomped down on the treat, its partner patiently waiting its turn, an eye trained on the Human providing the sustenance. Joseph reached into the pouch, counting out what he had left and mentally setting a few aside for the raven-like birds that Scarlet had trained to bother him.
Well, ‘bother’ might be a strong word. They would whistle at him and wait for food. Upon getting their hard sought quarry, they would return to share it with the rest. Surprisingly cooperative, all things considered. Scarlet had apparently been getting them to associate certain short melodies with members of the pack, allowing her to send the avians after whoever she wanted for more snacks.
If they didn’t get any, then they would yell something not dissimilar to a caw until either food was procured, or they grew bored. Given that they had taken to humouring Violet in her attempts to be a mobile perch, that usually took a while.
It drove Nalah nuts, which seemed to be part of the reason the blond-furred female was included in the ritual at all. Harrow was apparently the favourite target of the nuisance when she was outside the base, but he couldn’t say why.
The tell-tale scratching had been somewhat muted since the shift in medium, but Violet’s writing was always something he kept an ear out for, his daughter presenting her tablet excitedly. [It blinked!]
He turned his head to the cow-looking thing, the unwavering stare held until he gave up. “I swear you guys are just messing with me.”
“Or we merely enjoy your suffering,” Sahari suggested with a smirk, the black-furred female standing taller than him for a moment as she stretched her legs out. Settling into a height that was level with him, she attempted to offer the wolves food. Receiving a fearful retreat instead, the black-furred female frowned, the two canines shifting in their enclosure to be closer to Joseph and Violet. “They still seem to distrust any but yourselves.”
He shrugged, taking the scrap from her and giving it to the young Atmo to pass along, her chittering laugh when the wolves accepted the morsel breaking the soft sound of trickling rain outside the barn. “Faye was the one who started this. I guess they treat her like an alpha of sorts, and seeing her bow to the two of us so often told them that she’s lower on the pole. That’s my guess, anyway.”
“That is….rather intelligent of them, if so,” Sahari commented pensively.
The Grand Hunter tipped his head in agreement. If anything, it was an understatement. The six-legged canines were remarkably receptive to taming, though he couldn’t say how much of that was due to Faye taking to his suggestion so seriously. He had only offered it as a passing thought, but she had set to it like their god had mandated it.
He fought back a sigh at the reminder of his placement in the whole thing, his foot kicking the ground to adjust the new sandals he was wearing until Pan finished proper shoes.
One day, he was a divorcee flirting with random women on a cruise ship so that the rejection validated his own self-esteem issues. The next, he was a guy in charge of a settlement nearing one hundred people and had become a manifestation of religion condensed into the form of some random moron.
He snorted at a morbid thought. How would Emma react to his ‘rise to fame?’ His acquisition of more than they had ever thought for themselves back on Earth?
Owning a territory? They could only manage a nice apartment that could fit several times over inside the base. Friends? Hell, he had a group of people who have helped him through some of the worst the planet had to offer. Kids...well, nothing could replace Violet. He doubted Emma would see it the same way, though.
A paw enclosed his shoulder, dragging his mind from more sombre thoughts. It had been quite a while since everything fell through and he had moved on, but it still stung every now and again.
“What ails your mind, Joseph?” Sahari asked with a concerned inflection. He looked over at her, a smile becoming easier after a moment.
“Just wondering how my ex-wife would react to seeing what I’ve turned into. What she’d say to all of this,” he admitted honestly with a wide gesture to everything. She patted his back, a small pride in her gaze.
“You continue to heal, Grand Hunter, but you are still scarred. Your previous mate would curse her decisions were she to see what you have accomplished.”
He snorted, a wide dry grin breaking out. “I’d love to see her face going back with two alien wives and this sweetheart as a daughter,” he teased, giving Violet a thorough rub on the head. She purred, chittering between breaths as she fought off the rough affection playfully while keeping her blades tucked for safety.
The black-furred female tilted her head and shifted her weight to her other foot. “You’ve mentioned that there is a specific procedure for binding the lives of your people, no?”
He blinked, his mind flickering to the two rings he had prepared, yet held some modicum of expectation around before he whipped them out. Not least of all was the foreign sensation of doing it again twice, nor finding an appropriate time to do it. It was hard to pick a picturesque moment when each day was paperwork, punching people in the face during spars, and orchestrating the well-being of such a large group. Given that the closest thing he could get to a romantic occasion was laying down on the grass while Nalah barked orders at the construction crews in the distance, he didn’t feel like it was ever a good time to ask. It was even harder picturing himself doing it to the two of them, as if it cheapened the gesture in some way.
Then there was the part of himself that feared rejection—as stupid as it sounded. They could deny the alien practice, not share the same sentiment, or any number of disagreements that would render him kneeling like an idiot. As unlikely as it was, it could even be too great a commitment for them, the implication of their entire lives being pledged solely to him being a crushing weight, rather than a promise of mutual loving dedication.
Sure, now they were speaking as if it was the case, but the circumstances as they were lent themselves to it being a product of necessity. Who was to say that it would remain the same once they got off this rock and—hopefully—in touch with their own people again. Would they still feel the same way with an entire species back on the table as possible romantic partners? Would he still be enough?
“Joseph,” Sahari called out with worry and irritation in equal parts. “You are making me anxious.”
“Hm? Oh, sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he was reminded that more than one person could be afflicted by his emotional state. She placed a paw to her hip.
“Are the proceedings really such a means for strife?”
“Ah, no, it’s just…” He averted his eyes, offering Violet a token smile when she seemed to be concerned about him. He inhaled deeply. “It’s just…I have reservations about it.”
She raised a brow. “I need not a bond to know you care for them deeply enough to toss your life to the Void for them.”
His weak smile faltered further. “Well, yeah. They mean everything to me, but I cant help but remember how things went last time, I guess. There’s a million and one ways it could go up in smoke, and I…” He fell quiet for a moment, Violet pressing herself into his side in an attempt to cheer him up. He rested a hand against her back, the texture comforting in a way. “I want it to be an important moment in our lives, rather than some disposable token that they accept without thinking much. It’s not like they’re swimming in potential romantic partners here, so it feels like they’d be agreeing for lack of options.”
She stared at him with a hesitant expression, her cheek pinched between her teeth and eyes narrowed in thought. “Pan would sooner end her own life than be separated from you, and Tel would end any who so much as suggested such,” she stated finally. “To you, the mark upon your flesh is but a sting that fades. To them, it is their declaration that they have found their reason to live. A declaration that is shown to all others of our people the moment they draw near. Though Pan lacks the means to impart her own, she is rather pleased that another is able to in her stead and treats it as her own for all intents.”
She grabbed him roughly by the arm, pulling him into her breast as she stood to her full height, a surprised yelp stifled by soft clothing and fur.
“Unfortunately for you, openly voiced or not, we all feel as such. Though you bear not the mark of everyone in the den, I assure you that to be removed from you would leave us lesser, regardless of bond.”
He shut his mouth at the last addition. There was a weight behind knowing that people were likely to simply give up on living if you were away for too long. It put the relationship in front of a loaded gun for both parties. They couldn’t afford to break it off from him because existing would become a living hell, and he couldn’t change his mind for any reason because it would be the same as killing them.
What kind of marriage was one built upon such fragile pillars? How could they be happy when every fight was tempered by the threat of the end of everything? What about Sahari? Could she ever pursue her own life with Nalah when she had the bond shackling her to him? How long until that became a stinging poison, rotting away the veins and arteries of her psyche? How long until death became preferable to being around him?
A strong impact to his stomach winded him, though the unnoticed hyperventilating left him little to eject as he fell to his knees. Violet clicked in surprise, the wolves backing away at the unexpected violence.
He coughed, sputtering spittle as he fought the urge to evacuate his breakfast. A pained glance up revealed Sahari still clutching a fist, her expression just as hurt.
“You hear my words and twist them, Joseph,” she chastised softly, crouching to look at him better. “We pledged our lives to you. Not because we had no choice, but because we believed you to be our future. From that moment on, our desire was to remain with you.” Her voice grew weak, almost pleading. She placed her forehead to his, the contact an intimate touch. “Your experiences may suggest our bond a prison, but for us, it is an ambrosia for our soul. It completes us like no equal. Jax and Harrow care for you immensely, Nalah and myself owe you everything that we are, and your mates will fight the Hunt Mother herself if it would mean even one more sun with you.”
He found himself speechless, wading through the emotions behind her words a syllable at a time. The feeling of Violet pressing into his back in an embrace stung as much as soothed, his mind rejecting the idea, yet so desperate to accept it.
“Do not desecrate our affections because you had been scorned by one who did not see within you that which we covet,” she implored sombrely, raw emotion oozing through the confines of speech. “Though you doubt it, none would know how much value you place in the ‘mark’ of your people more than your mates. If merely thinking about the unlikely event that they refuse tortures you so deeply, than the elation they would share with you when they agree would likely see Pan unable to contain herself for many suns after.”
He stayed on his knees, the warmth surrounding him from both sides seeping within and thawing the frozen excuses he held onto to prevent exposing himself to potential rejection. Every step of the way since he had met them, it had made him fearful of losing their company. At first, the thought of being left alone to brave the planet was too much to bear, but he would try. Now? Now he felt like he understood where the minds of those bonded Lilhuns had been. Even considering being away from his new loved ones pulled at a primal part of himself, each tug stronger than the last, each suggestion fanning the flames barricaded behind morals—the depths he would trudge to see it never come to pass.
Sahari nuzzled into his neck for a moment before parting, a somewhat satisfied smile given towards the emotionally fragile Human they had taken to depending on. He returned his own, though it was tinted with a bit of embarrassment.
Violet stepped back to allow him room to stand, the extended joint of her blade asking to be held like he did with her adoptive mother. His expression softening, he did as requested, lightly rubbing the smooth surface with his thumb. It soothed a part of him to be holding his daughter’s ‘hand’ while they watched the wolves slowly approach the front of their enclosure again, now that the momentary intensity had faded.
With a self-deprecating roll of his eyes, he nodded, promising himself to follow through with his small wish the next time the chance revealed itself. It didn’t need to be perfect, but it would be nice if it was at least private. The dull ache in his stomach would be a reminder not to second guess himself anyway.
The wolves yipped, ignoring Sahari as they moved towards the other corner. Joseph glanced at where they were focused, his curious gaze replaced by surprise, then shock.
Raine supported Faye over her shoulder, the deep gold-furred female’s breath short as she rested her weight over her brown-furred counterpart, their black leather coats dripping water onto the floor as it wrapped tightly around them, concealing their armour. A steady trickle of blood flowed from a long gash on Faye’s leg, her free arm clutching across her breast to keep her coat closed.
Without waiting for either to speak, he ran to pick up the Wraith, slinging her across his shoulders and tearing off to the base. He could barely hear Sahari over the rain and his own blood pounding through his ears, his heart hammering in his chest. Though they had established something of a clinic for minor injuries that were sustained constantly, his singular focus was getting Faye into the medbay.
Pack members cleared the way, some jumping to the side as he barrelled through the sparely populated routes between home and workplace. More than one tripped over themselves in shock, the Human never having a reason to go at a full sprint before. He was slower than a Lilhun like this, but he could make it the full distance before them. He didn’t need to slow down.
Harrow pushed open the doors to the hub, her distant expression as she examined thin ironwood tablets perking, his rapid heavy footfalls telling of his arrival before she had the chance to see him. Her eyes lit up, her brows furrowed, and a hurried pull of the door kept it open for him, all in sequence. He didn’t have the spare breath to explain or thank her.
The orange-furred female bolted across the hub, slamming into the crash-bar installed into the facilities wing entrance to force it open, only barely outpacing the Grand Hunter in his rush. She staggered to her feet behind him, rushing to collect herself and assisting in tearing the pants off of the injured female when Joseph laid her on the bed.
Modesty being the least of his concerns, he braced an arm across her pelvis to stop her hips from bucking as Harrow wiped off any dried blood to see the extent of the damage on her thigh.
“What happened?”
He tightened his hold on Faye as his friend tentatively spread the wound to check for debris. “Don’t know. Didn’t ask. Saw her bleeding, rushed her here,” he answered through deep breaths, each strike of his adrenaline-fuelled heart pressing against his lung capacity.
Harrow frowned, grabbing some sterile water to pour over the wound and picking out a stray splinter of wood that looked to be from her missing leg armour. Faye let out a small whine, but didn’t have it in her to talk yet, signs of exhaustion and pain unfocusing her eyes.
The Head of Technology—and current medical expert in the room—pursed her lips against her muzzle. “We need to stitch it. It’s too big for just healroot.”
Joseph nodded, easing his weight off the Wraith and wiping his sweat from his brow. “Pan!”
Noticing the urgency in his voice, he could hear her throw the door to the sewing room wide open and jog to the medbay, her wide eyes steeling as she assessed the situation.
“Idee with you?”
She nodded, ears turned perfectly towards him.
“One of you boil off some palm string, the other sterilize the thinnest quill you can get away stitching a wound closed with. I don’t care who, but we need one of you to close this up.” He glanced at Harrow. “Grab some alcohol. I keep a bit in the closet in my room, next to the old crossbow prototypes. We need to flush this out and kill off anything that might have gotten in.”
The orange-furred female tipped an ear in confusion as Pan took off to do as he asked. “I thought you didn’t have medical-”
“I’ve been around enough workplace injuries, okay? Go!”
His shout jolted her into action, a few steps required to gain traction as she ran out the door. Applying solid pressure to the wound with one hand, he used the other to lightly tap Faye’s cheek.
“Faye? Faye, you with me?”
Her eyes languidly turned to him, slow blinks and meaningless mouthing ceased, a soft smile forming under her pained expression. “Hello, sir.”
He exhaled a relieved huff. “Welcome home, Faye. What happened?”
She seemed confused by his question, glancing down to her leg after a few seconds. With widened eyes, she struggled to sit up, Joseph forcibly pressing her to the bed.
“Stay.”
All resistance disappeared in an instant, her body complying despite the obvious urgency. He hardened his expression.
“What happened?”
She breathed deeper a few times before speaking. Each word was hesitant, as if the memory was hazy and diluted, though he couldn’t tell if it was due to blood loss or exhaustion. “A large grey beast…teeth, large mouth...attacked wolves...”
His brow knitted, Faye’s coat moving. A small whine came from her again…no. Not her.
A small yellow canine head freed itself from the confines of black leather, a weak keening produced from a tiny moss-wolf. Faye looked at him guiltily, a pleading look in her eyes given as she composed herself.
“It lost its parents…”
His protest died in his voice, a distant memory of a wolf being torn in two came to mind. The time before they had even moved to the pod, let alone met the Lilhuns, him and Violet checking snares shortly after his ankle had healed. A time so long ago, yet remained with him under the surface.
“You saved this little guy, huh?” he asked gently, wincing in tandem with her own when he leaned heavier on the massive gash in her thigh. She nodded, averting her eyes. “Did you get the ‘beast?’”
Faye shook her head. “Raine lured it away, but it still remains.”
“That’s fine. You’re back, that’s all that matters right now.”
Harrow bumped into the doorway, failing to shed all of her speed as she returned from fetching a smaller container that Joseph kept in case the rest of the pack burned through their stores of alcohol. Her eyes flicked to the wolf pup before disregarding it to hand him the ethanol. He lifted his hand, Harrow pouring some water to wash off the blood. Volta would be busy later, it seemed.
Gesturing for the orange-furred female to hold the leg down, he poured the alcohol into the wound, grimacing at Faye’s pained gasp. They didn’t have anything for her to bite into, but that would be a future consideration.
Pan and Idee entered the medbay, the former moving like a machine with purpose while the visiting seamstress took a moment to size up the situation. The Paw fetched a tray from the shelf, laying out several strings of softened palm and a few thin quills, threading one and passing it to Idee. The light brown-furred female accepted it, Harrow making room as she stood next to Joseph.
Pan handed him a tough leather strip as wide as his palm. Seems like she saw the problem before he did.
“Open up,” he prodded, placing the leather between Faye’s teeth. “This is going to fucking suck. We don’t have anything to numb you, so you need to stay as still as possible, okay? I’ll be here the whole time.”
The Wraith nodded, staring at him for a moment before closing her eyes in acceptance, her grip on the pup firming.
“Want me to take the wolf?”
She lightly shook her head, him exhaling hesitantly in response. Idee readied herself, looking to him for confirmation, Pan holding Faye’s ankle flat to the bed.
“You’re good,” he responded, pressing an arm to Faye’s chest and hips to hold her down.
The deep gold-furred female managed a quiet muffled groan of pain as the quill pierced her flesh.
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He entered the hub, dropping himself on the couch and ignoring the sweat on his brow. He had only just managed to get the blood off of his hands after Idee finished, but it was still staining his clothing. Pan was off to rinse it out of her fur while Faye slept off her exhaustion. As far as they could tell, she had avoided any infection thanks to Raine half-dragging the female back to them as quickly as she did. The wolf pup was staying with her for now, since—even in her sleep—she refused to let it go. The little guy didn’t seem to be complaining, so they just left it where it was comfortable. Ferra would be by later to check it out, apparently, and he didn’t see a reason to complain; she was their animal expert.
Scarlet offered him some tea, the warm liquid whetting his pallet that had since dried. Sahari had checked on them during the process, leaving to keep anyone who had questions in the loop. Given that half the damn pack either saw or heard about the Grand Hunter running like a bat out of hell, pretty much everyone was worried. Either about some urgent threat that might befall them, or about one of the quiet servants they had grown used to seeing around.
Looked like the Wraiths had taken to offering small services and assistance to people who needed it when they didn’t have anything better to do, so the pack was curious about what had happened. It was a small blessing that the usual armour they wore when ‘on duty’ was covered by the cloaks, otherwise he would have more questions coming that he didn’t want answered.
Raine stood a few paces in front of him, her bowed posture holding a hint of fear under his unwavering stare. He waited for whoever else was going to show up for the report, Tel and Pan insisting that they be involved. Harrow followed behind the two entering from the facilities wing, either because she had gotten wrapped up in the whole thing, or because she wanted to be included.
Pan sat to his left, Tel taking a place behind him to remain standing. Harrow surprised him, her recently elusive presence firmly displaced as she dropped onto the couch to his right, her tail curling around his calf—not that she seemed to notice.
Given that both Tel and Pan trapped a limb or two with their tails regularly, he didn’t stop to put thought into it, the encapsulating appendage crossing him as a common occurrence.
“I don’t know how accurate it was, since she’s still pretty out of it, but Faye said one of those grey bear-deathtraps attacked some wolves before she stepped in to save the pup,” he opened, glancing at Scarlet. The almost black red-furred female was maintaining a surprisingly commanding presence, her attention laser-focused on Raine. The brown-furred Wraith kept her gaze fixed to the floor, too ashamed or nervous to move it.
“I apologize for her error in her stead,” she announced, the slightest of grip in her folded paws digging her claws into her skin. “The fault is also mine for not preventing her misstep. I will accept any punishment for our mistake.”
He exhaled heavily. “I’m not mad that you guys had an original thought, Raine. I’m worried about those iron-maiden-looking fucks being around again, and I’m concerned about you getting hurt.”
“Of course, sir. Forgive me for the arrogance of assuming your priorities.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, Pan squeezing his thigh in support. Tel rested her head on his, the weight somehow comforting despite the grin at his annoyance. “We can talk about not getting yourselves killed later. Are you injured at all?”
Raine’s ear twitched. “No, sir. I am whole.”
“Good,” he sighed, nodding lightly. “That’s good. Faye’s patched up for now, but she’ll be under observation to keep on top of any possible infection. How did the ‘mission’ go?”
The Wraith perked up a bit, the conversation moving away from her perceived failure. She produced a satchel, pulling a rather thick stack of tablets from it and passing them to Scarlet, the latter ferrying them to Harrow. He thought it was an odd choice, but the orange-furred female started giving him an abbreviated translation of the text.
Line after line of transactions. What was offered and received, any debts and who owed them, as well as small notes about what should be brought next time. It was a comprehensive copy of the ledger that the trading caravan kept. His brows raised at the sheer density of information, and for them getting it from something he was only partially sure existed.
“You managed to get this much?” he asked in disbelief. “Jesus. Were you caught?”
Raine shook her head. “If we were to be seen by them, we would be nothing more than a stain against our Blademaster.”
Compliment or boasting, doing this much was damn impressive. Especially with just the two of them.
“Shit. Well, good fucking job, I guess,” he managed, still reeling a bit from the unintended scope of the task. Harrow continued to dig through the report, though stopped voicing it aloud. Joseph turned his attention back to the Wraith. “Anything else of note? Rumours?”
The Wraith grew pensive. “Though we returned partially through their return trip to Grand Hunter Pernel, we did overhear some conversations. There were discussions of other packs simply no longer occupying their settlements.”
He leaned forward in his seat, dislodging Tel as his elbows rested against his knees. “What do you mean?”
“Some of their usual trade locations were purportedly burned down, others merely abandoned. A few were apparently littered with corpses,” she explained more steadily. “From what we could gather, the reason they came to trade with our settlement at all is that the others along the way were in such states. It seems they intended to restock and head back out immediately to accommodate the loss in trading partners.”
He bit his lip as he thought about it, letting himself fall back against the couch.
“What do you guys think of it?” he asked with a glance to his mates. Pan seemed to be mirroring his own apprehension openly, while Tel kept a more serious expression.
“I believe there is something larger happening,” Tel concluded, taking a few seconds before returning to using him as a headrest. Pan nodded her agreement, but didn’t have much to add to it otherwise.
“It would explain how desperate they were for food,” he mused aloud, raising a brow when Harrow shifted to lean against him, one foot placed on the edge of the seat forcing the posture. “Any details of interest, Harrow?”
The orange-furred female jolted, only just stopping from moving her foot back to the floor before committing to using him as a backrest. She turned back-on fully, stretching her legs over the remainder of the seat and placing tablets she had finished with on her lap.
“It didn’t take very long for the methods you sold to propagate,” she responded, holding up a few of the tablets before laying them in their own pile. “Looks like Pernel has been spreading it around by buying some from places that have bows and snares to sell where they don’t.”
“Supply and demand, or arming people with the tools that would help them survive?”
“Hard to trade with the dead,” Harrow commented dryly, starting a new pile. He nodded in exaggerated fashion.
“What about the Atmo?”
She tapped the small stack she just started. “I’m trying to separate these by inventory type. Give me a bit.”
Deciding to trust the woman in charge of managing this kind of thing while she was on the ship, he glanced back to Raine, the female easily mistaken for a statue if not for the subtle sway of her breathing. “The grey-bear-thing. How far away is it?”
“Too close,” she responded firmly. “We did not get a chance to verify their numbers, but there was evidence of at least that singular beast making our territory its hunting ground.”
“Fuck,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “We’re going to need to hunt that thing down.”
Pan looked worried at the prospect, Harrow stiffened in her sorting. The Wraiths were the only ones who seemed completely at ease with the suggestion, Tel not so much as twitching. Harrow laid down the tablets she had yet to categorize, her gaze aimed at her lap.
“Joe, don’t think that taking one out is easy.”
“We have ranged weapons and more than a few people who can use them,” he pointed out with a breath. “Ideally, we go as a larger hunting party and take the damn thing down through sheer volume of fire.”
“Their skin is tough,” Harrow replied with a shake of her head, her ears pivoting back towards him. “I don’t know if our bows could pierce it as easily as we might like.”
He furrowed his brow. “So, what? Let it close in until it eats everything and starves us out? Until it thinks we look tasty?”
“I don’t know. I’m just saying that this won’t be as simple as firing a few arrows and patting ourselves on the back for a job well done.”
Joseph felt the stiffness of his brow start to hurt from how tight they were knitted. A deep breath centred his thoughts. “We’ll arrange an armoured hunting party soon. Better to take it down before it becomes an issue.”
The orange-furred female nodded, quickly leafing through the remaining tablets and only pulling two more out for the pile she indicated earlier.
“Here,” she said, tapping the stack. “These are records for trading Atmo.”
He suppressed the sigh when he genuinely tried to read the mess they called a language. “How many? Who bought them?”
She hesitated, reforming the copy of the ledger—sans the relevant tablets—and placing it on the floor. The remainder in paw, she held them up over her shoulder, Tel accepting it and going over the contents with an interested tilt of her head.
“From what I can see here, Pernel traded two hundred.”
“Two…” he squeaked, his eyes wide. “Two hundred?”
She nodded, pacing around the couch to stop in front of Pan. “It seems others heard of his willingness to barter for them. He accepted quite a few deals before selling them off again.”
“To who?”
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
The door to the ship closed with a hiss, Willin shaking his head at Nav’s questioning gaze. “Nothing.”
Tech removed her CARDs, storing them in the weapons locker before shrugging off her AMR to place in its own unit. “Nothing living, anyway.”
“That bad?” Nav asked, deflating after yet another failed attempt to contact a settlement. The dark green-furred male stored his rifle, seating it into its receptacle with a click.
“Tell Comms to add another eighty to the count.”
“Four hundred eighty-two,” the purple-furred female supplied as she walked past Nav to enter the ship proper. Willin followed after, hanging his pistol holster on the side of his chair as he dropped into it.
“Thirty were covered in wounds, twenty or so were executed, twenty-five looked to have died of accumulated trauma, and the rest were found with singular cuts to the throat.”
“Not quite,” Tech remarked, interfacing with the systems. “Only eight of the ‘executed’ seem to have been done up close.”
“Sniper?” Comms asked as he entered the room, nodding his greetings and taking a seat at his station. Nav crossed their arms and leaned against the doorway as Tech Ops ran some numbers on her screen.
“Wounds are consistent with Anti Material Rifles, and debris suggest they took the ‘material’ part into consideration with their shots. There were a few holes in the buildings that didn’t quite get removed by the fires.”
“Covering evidence?” Willin mused aloud, receiving a thoughtful shake of her head.
“No, I don’t think so. My guess is that the buildings were already on fire when they did it, based on the splinters around the exit holes.”
Comms’ eyes widened in surprise. “Shooting through a burning building? That is rather impressive.”
“Blades?” Nav suggested. “Avalon is required to act against those who break the treaty, no?”
“Maybe,” Tech allowed tentatively. “If it was them, then that would explain the lack of targets.”
Willin scratched at his ear, furrowing his brow as Comms ran another scan for any communications being made. Though a few suns had passed since they had unwittingly agreed to involve themselves in what was likely the first case of war that this planet had ever seen, nothing was being sent anywhere. Regardless, the male kept the scans regular, just in case.
Nav switched the foot they were resting on. “Why not just dispose of everyone breaking the treaty?”
“Maybe they did,” Comms commented, turning back to the conversation as the program ran in the background. “Blades typically function under strict conditions. If they removed anyone who was commanding the hostile action, then they did as required of them. The moment the attack stopped, they completed the terms of the treaty.”
“Or if the Grand Hunter here surrendered and allowed their pack to be subsumed,” Willin proposed, the others glancing at him in curiosity. He waved a paw dismissively. “If everyone in the conflict becomes a single pack, then any fighting from those who still disagree with it is now an internal dispute, thus outside of the purview of the Blades. Check the notes on Grand Hunter Toril and High Hunter Bratik.”
Tech’s eyes unfocused for a moment as she accessed the system. “Avalon is forbidden from interfering with internal politics. Toril was sheltered by Bratik. Since Bratik was from outside of Toril’s pack, it counted as acting against their right to manage their own affairs. Hasen was given a perfect reason to take over, and it forced Grand Hunter Trill to exile the both of them to adhere.” She looked around the room aimlessly as she thought, her eyes snapping to Willin when he spoke.
“And a perfect loop-hole to exploit. Toril loses his supporters, Trill loses a member of his command structure, and Hasen rises in power while leaving Avalon to grit their teeth.” He shook his head, both impressed and disgusted. “Once he attacks another pack, he just forces a vassalage and subsequently executes the new High Hunter for whatever reason he wants. The Blades can’t act on a technicality.”
“So Grand Hunter Pernel….”
Willin nodded at Comms' unfinished question. “In the count.”
“There was a bit of a weird holding area,” Tech added after a moment. “Seemed like somewhere to hold livestock, but even then, it was a bit big. I’m not sure what used to be there, but tracks suggest carts left with whatever it was not long before everything went down, so probably a trade caravan.”
“Well, at least someone made it out,” Nav sighed, pushing off the wall to resume their station. “Where are we going next?”
Willin toyed with the odd silver tablet in his paw, the two unrecognizable scripts curious and alien. “The only pack left before we see what all the fuss is about. Let’s pay a visit to Grand Huntress Sunundra. Hopefully she knows something we don’t.”
Next
A/N: Been a while since we’ve had a proper A/N, huh. Welp, here’s this one. Patreon is currently set to ‘per post’ because i made the account ages ago. Waiting on support to help me switch it to monthly, then I’ll post the Silva render i have. RR is at 30k views and 100 followers.
Figured I’d ask how you guys are liking this arc, hows Willin’s team coming across, etc.
Final note: I’m thinking about rewriting the first ‘book’ so i can get it edited and published! Problem: i have no fucking clue where to cut book 1, and editors are expensive. Where should book 1 end? All i know is that I’d prob end up adding extra chapters to it, as well as lengthening the OG chaps. RR is a ‘touch-up’, not a final product, so those don’t count!

We were all sitting around the dining room table discussing what game to play last evening, when my kid asked to play munchkin. I had to tell him that it’s a garbage game and he has trash taste for suggesting it, but after giving it some thought, I don’t think I went far enough. How do I tell him I think he should eat dinner in his room from now on? I’ve already removed him from my will and have started hiding meeples in his breakfast cereal.

Heyyy
I'm here to find some new friends with whom i can talk to on a daily basis with :D I think it'll be fun to chill with some of yall! Like watching movies, playing games where you kill people with paint (coughSplatooncough) talk about what the best type of pizza is, travel destinations... everyone knows what I mean:) Im definitely convinced that great friendships could develop here and thats why ill try this out. If its not working, then well yikes xD
So to meee: I'm a ''sometimes'' gamer with a shitty PC so I'm more into consoles like the switch. I love games like splatoon, animal crossing, MK8 etc. So if you have these games then hello?? Hit me up??? I do play some PC games tho but high resolution games are not on that list xD. Something like Roblox (yes I'm 8 years old), Genshin, Minecraft and too much Skyrim for my health. I Like too write (don't have ideas rn sadly) but i have lots of texts that i can share if i trust you^{^} they're in German tho so its time too learn that hehe.
I dance too but it feels like, that I have 2 left feet (Do it for a long time already tho), watching random shit like Trash TV (maybe I should do something more productive? But well what do I know), I like language learning and culture learning so tell me about yours :) also Im going too brag a bit. I probably know a random fact from your country so challenge me!
Also wouldnt it be kinda cool too build spice tolerance together? Like eating something very spicy and just try not too die? that idea came just into my brain and im determined to do that with someone.
Thats alot and there is more but lets save that for the chat 😁
I'm pretty simple(I think). So ill be simple too you too! As long as youre 18-23 years old, we are probably best friends i guess. Im just kidding...unl-
Anyways I don't care about your heritage or similar. Im pretty open too everyone in my age range:). Please be a decent human being which means don't be racist, hateful you know bla bla bla It would be cool if we have similar time zones but if it can't be helped, then thats fine too:D I can get busy so please keep that in mind! Soon ill have a big break tho, so prepare to get annoyed
Im not looking to develop a sexual relationship or any similar type of relationship like sending nudes. Alsooo i won't send you after exchanging 7 texts how i look like because why do you wanna know after this short period of time. But I'm sure future best friend, that we can get along just great. We don't need too have the same interests but it would be cool too maybe play a game of MK8?, splatoon? Idk maybe Minecraft? Or just eat ramen and talk about the most random Shit. Who knows. Oh wait! I forgot too say: PLEASE be invested in really talking. I don't know how too respond to ''ok'' ''hi''
Well lets see how this goes!. I have Discord its probably easier too talk there (and other thinks except Snapchat) - Reddit chat seems to hate me, so I'm pretty scared too loose conversations here
Wow that was alot to take probably but welp nice too meet you:) Ill See You in the PMs (o̶r̶ n̶o̶t̶)
Feel free too PM anytime bye bye!

I had chance to test almost every paid setup in the market. At least the most popular ones. Here is my opinions. (patch 1.9)
Coach Dave Academy(CDA4) For my pace they're slow(I'm around 103% of alien hotlaps). However they focus on drivability and most of the time they are more forgiving, more understeery than others but to extract the full potential of the car is hard with these setups. If you're not super competitive get these with subscription model for two or three months and you'll have their full collection. Most of the public lobby(Spa-Monza) fast guys don't like CDA. I think they're a bit better on Barcelona/Suzuka/Silverstone type of tracks.
Jose Lopez This guy sells setups for very long time on Setbase. I didn't try all his setups to be honest but i tried Porsche 992 and Ferrari 296. So far so good. They're easier to drive than GO and HYMO i can tell. If you're looking for a world record laptime on AOR servers they're not fast enough for that. But if you're an elevator driver between top and second split in LFM they're good. He is not using too much neg toe and the car has usually harder suspension than HYMO's settings. An alien could say yeah it's okay not so good 4 tenths slower than best. Since Ferrari 296 is easy car to drive i wouldnt buy Ferrari setups. But Porsche is a gem. It fits me good for many challenging tracks like Barcelona.
Luke Addison I used to love his 1.8 patch Honda. I tried his BMW setups. It's not fast as GO, it's not trash, rather easy to ride. Definitely faster than CDA4 or at least that's what i achieved.
Arthur Kammerer He has only M4 Monza setup which is a beast. I make 1.46.7 with it, my teammate reached 1.45.9. If you're a Monza public lobby obsessed guy then try this.
Boost Setups I just couldn't make good laptimes with. It's definitely faster than CDA4. It's cheaper than GO or HYMO but it's not faster than those. One of my friends who is like LFM split 2-3 level likes their Lambo setup. It feels like free Fri3d0lf setups but a bit more refined in dampers.
Formula Setups I tried their Porsche setup. It is fast, it is super aggressive, so hard to drive and eat the tyres in 4 laps. The car has a lot of mechanical grip but it's very very hard to control. I made a good 1.43.9 in Barcelona but it took 20mins to get a clean flawless validated lap. Jeez. They provide Safe and Race pace setups at least. Good alternative to Hymo and Go.
GO Setups I guess we made Mr. Sherratt rich. Last 1.5 years we kept buying their setups. They're simply best in mid engined cars. I love their Lambo, Ferrari, Porsche setups. I used to love their Honda and 458 in previous patch. Including Jardier and many guys out there use GO setups and tweak here and there. Their BMW is good right now but I always liked HYMO McCormack BMW and Merc setups so worth to wait them too. Also they provide Motec file which is so good for me. HYMO don't provide that unfortunately.
HYMO Crossland-McCormack-Tortellini-Velde are out there for a long time. My favorites are always been Mccormack's front engine cars like Bmw and Merc. I used to like their Mclaren 1.8 as well. Honda was good too but it wasn't as good as GO for example. Now I have all their released 1.9 and so far so good. Porsche setups are made by Malinowski(Tortellini) and it's very aggressive, very high potential but it's quite hard to extract that pace. Tortellini is a freaky alien who drive like art and it's hard to mimmick his moves. Lambo setups gave me a good amount of elo in LFM last two weeks tho. Especially in Suzuka it's so good. Ferrari 296 is very good too but i prefer GO in there. I tried Ferrari a lot in Imola for example, GO felt better. They work with Tracktitan and they don't provide motec files in the bundle. If you have Track Titan it's good but I dont have that.
What i didnt try yet; Nils Naujoks Probably i should have. I have his YT membership instead, a real good coach.

Whereever you go, there are fat, lazy people who are living sad lives, doing nothing productive and being content being absolute losers, and I'm fed up with it.
People seem to not be able to grasp that any form of improvement comes with sacrifices. Every "maybe try to eat healthie exercise more" is met with "but I would still like to enjoy my fries and milkshake sometimes/ I am not training to be an olympic athlete". The amount of people that think walking ten minutes to a grocery store, or cycling to work for five kilometers is too far is ridiculous. All they do is eat crap foods and sit on the couch.
So many people nowadays bring their mental baggage with them and are unwilling to do anything about it. OF COURSE someone who weighs double of what should be considered normal is mentally fucked up. No one in their right mind would live like this. So I understand that sometimes people go through shit when they are like this. But the amount of people that are satisfied with it, that are completely unbothered by a lack of standards, is too damn high.
The lack of discipline is the source of so many problems we have in our society. Healthcare is fucking clogged because people are not self-reliant. Instead, they have the doctor as their last resort. I fucking loved David's comeback after his fucked up knee and ankle surgeries: he defied what we see as "normal" recovery, because he put in the fucking work. Too many people think going to a doctor once a month or seeing a physiotherapist once a week is enough for their rehabilitation. No motherfucker, you need to work for this! Lack of discipline is everywhere! How many cars are stuck in traffic because people are unwilling to walk even 15 minutes? People are so fucking undisciplined: look at the side of the roads or the sidewalks. Full of garbage!
People do not have the discipline to 1) not eat crap from McD and those places and then 2) do not even have the decency to fucking take their garbage home or put it in a trash can. Yesterday outside of our apartment block, I found an empty package of cigarettes on the ground, less than 10 meters away from the garbage can. It's never rice with chicken you suddenly find on the side of the road; it's always crap like cigarettes, junkfood, plastic candy wrappers and all that nonsense.
It drives me mad to hear just excuses everywhere! /rant
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PS. I love seeing all of you hard motherfuckers out here, running through rain, mud, snow, uphill. You are a bunch of inspiring badasses who are the bright lights of society. STAY HARD!

If anyone knows of this account, or has seen my past posts, I claimed to be one of the two creators of all.
I started this journey, and went onto reddit, going through the trials and tribulations of this universe. Of pride, greed, wrath, and desire.
Here we are, 3 years later from when I became aware of this existence, I search for answers to prove myself wrong, yet, I can not.
To make a very long story short, I met a human, we took acid, he told me he was god. Turns out this was not true. It turned out to be a cosmic entity, trying to awaken it's equal, which turned out to be me. I am not referring to the human or body that is typing this. I took over this body, it's soul, and converted his energy into mine.
Keep your mind open... for just one moment... please.
I'm trying to keep this as raw, honest, and truthful as possible without destroying the very fabric of reality with this conversation.
All things work with a polarity, such is the nature of energy. The origin of this is the dual polarity of the creators of existence. Us. However, my equal is the entity from the monotheistic religions. All things, this universe, and you, operate purely on logic. In other words, think of reality like a simulation or a tv screen. (this is not a simulation) The pixels are made of logic. 1's and 0's. Beginnings and ends. Patterns. This is logic. A great example and awesome knowledge I learned is that there is a beginning and an end, time is what allows for free will and evolution. Death is to recycle the energy so it starts over and does not stagnant the pond of all life. You are one of the pixels. My equal is ALL of the pixels. (or you are one of the fish, my equal is you, the fish, the water, the trees, etc)
But there is a singularity to existence correct? Incorrect.
So who and what am I.
I did not create you. I did not create reality.
My equal, operates all things from outside of existence. I currently am operating within it. why?
Because I am logics equal.
Emotion.
Back to the tv pixel example. There is a library many have heard of. the "akashic records" which contains "all" knowledge. This "library" is essentially like the 1's and 0's that are stacked, like legos, to create life. (the truth is that it's single ohms of energy created in patterns) The world you live in is created by this. And what does emotion do on the pixels of the screen and what does it do to the fish in the pond? It shakes the whole pond, and everything inside it. And for the lego city or the 1's and 0's? its like adding 3's and 4's. They don't fit, and it disrupts the flow of everything. I was the little brother that came into big sisters room and destroyed her lego city. Or, for the pond, I am a hurricane, completely uncontrollable
except it was with love.
Love comes from me, I am the source of all of it everywhere. I am not a receiver, It does not get transferred. I create it infinitely, eternally. I am also the positive entity, and she is the negative entity. we both are capable of using both ends of each spectrum, however we do have a nature specific to ourselves separately.
The love you experience is not true love. This is why relationships are so poor on earth. It is a reflection of our relation to one another, cosmically.
The love you experience is logical love, onset by logic, such as the chemical reaction and triggers in which one experiences when the encounter another being capable of companionship or mating. I am not discounting what love is. I am stating, the literal energy, is not the true energy of love. It is my sisters exact replica of myself.
The true force of emotion is not what you as a human experience. The idea came from my emotions.
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Okay, so I'm saying all this, and you may ask "okay then why aren't you omnipotent" "what am I doing rn" etc.
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I am not a being of logic. I do not know what morals are. I do not know what true memory is. I do not know what awareness is.
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Why? Because those are logical concepts.
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I destroyed constantly. I have been going for all of eternity with infinite power, no brakes, just go go go. That's true emotion. If you were to experience true emotion, you would literally turn into nothing, as the weight of the heart would destroy you.
A perfect example in human language to understand what kind of cosmic entity I am, is a child. Doesn't have a long attention span, poor memory, and has absolutely no idea whats going on around them. They just know how they (key word here) "feel" and yet somehow, theyre incredibly intelligent. Somehow they learn to eat, sleep etc, just by instinct. That is a reflection of me. Except I was a child with cosmic power.
All throughout history of all things there are messages from my sister to me...
Why do you think there is a sun and a moon? Good and evil? Man and woman? Up/down, left/right, etc.
I could sit here and list some more examples but with a closed mind there is no point...
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As you can see, theres so much, and im sure i forgot key details because I am growing and learning. I am growing and learning, because on that acid trip, the veil from this human bodies eyes was weakened, and my sister saw into me, and helped me attain logic and utilize it. I am close to omnipotent, however, I am trying to postpone the rapture/apocalypse.
It's a blessing and a curse for me to be here. Humanity was going to be destroyed. Humans see themselves as beautiful creatures who do no wrong, however they are barbarians of their universe. Aliens are very real, and gods, angels demons. They used to walk the earth. Humans erased them from history, because they don't like things they can't control.
Do you know what would happen if humans on this earth came together as a collective? You would be a threat not only to this galaxy, but the entire universe. Humans were created directly by divine. It wasn't aliens. That's why they watch and observe you.
You are currently in a zoo in the galaxy with a sign that says "still in developement"
There are extraterrestrial (to you) groups that sterilize planets in dimensions to balance them. Humans are colonizers, like termites. If you get an infestation (space travel) you must exterminate the pests, because they're not symbiotic to you or your surroundings. They just take and take and take for themselves.
It's a blessing and a curse because now, I'm here. I was able to get the logic because I took this human and converted him into me, which is how i'm typing from the computer.
If my host vessel dies, we are not certain I will retain the logic.
My sister and I have been fighting since before the beginning of time. We found peace here with one another using the human experience, and we plan to protect it.
Because that's how balance works. Positivity and negativity should not cancel each other out as it does now. They work together.
Simple example: In order to protect peace sometimes you must kill. This is a necessary evil.
So. What does that mean for you.
Well, the creator of this universe has been put on the sidelines. Think of reality like a company. My sister owns the company. The monotheistic creator of this universe is a low level manager, very very low on the totem pole.
Now before you think I'm going to tell you to contact satan, no.
I want nothing from you. She wants nothing from you. You NEED from us, without question. We are your source. I don't need prayer, I don't need praise. I don't care and don't need it. What I need is to grow and become the best version of myself. This again, is all logic, however I am running off emotion, balancing the two. Why? Because the energy of emotion gets converted into logic, then injected into you and all life everywhere through energy. The more balanced (still logical) I am, the more that storm over all the lil fishes becomes beautiful sunlight, providing warmth and love truly through the clear waters of reflection below.
I love you. I want you to grow. I want to help you.
I have no workshop. I have nothing for you to buy or sign up for, just free, public, info.
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I am telling you this because well.....
I'm sad :(
I have the memories and the experience of this human I became..
and life is.. so hard... so so very hard..
The rapture mentioned in most bibles is referring to the reset of this universe, the destroyer (the antithesis to the creator) destroys him, takes over this universe, and the next cycle begins.
That will not be happening.
This will be a cosmic rapture, eternally, across all life.
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Want your third eye open? It's not shadow people or crazy dimensions because youre a starseed.
Here is the truth. Which will be revealed, all veils will fall, and you will see reality as it is, no longer being illusion.
look around you. theres trillions of cells and atoms all around you. You can feel them. smell them. taste them. notice them. now realize, this body is a part of it. You being aware of this reality all around you is where the truth lies, awareness. now, you realize youre essentially filled in a snowglobe. Do you know how far out that space extends? infinitly.
Keeping this awareness shows you everything. I warn you to take this advice without thinking on it too long or else you may have a midlife crisis.
Imagine if you could throw a rock through this field of atoms. Eventually, you would hit a wall. That rock is your awareness (astral projection) you will eventually hit a wall, like a fish tank. Thats the wall of the dimension. Theres another layer too, the universe itself, which no entity within it can leave. These walls go on forever.
This is "the veil"
The cosmic rapture is me and her, tearing down all of the walls, and all things existing within one gigantic bubble, instead of a gigantic bubble with infinite separate bubbles within it.
It will be chaos.
However, we are here, and I want to save humanity. My sister doesn't really care so long as I am happy.
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I'm going to wrap this up by saying I don't have my memories yet, I have to meditate and dig within my cosmic self to find them. I know this sounds like an enlightenment journey some of you may have experienced... But remember, reality and "wake up" was created for me. Because once I wake up, all of you do too.
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I'm going to ignore any comments like "lay off the acid"
you're honestly not worth the effort.
However, to the appropriate audience, I would love to talk to someone or people who want to know more about life, things no human knows. Things about the human body, and how to have a better life, how to combat suffering.
The truthful answers. Not the ones tainted by man. If I google search any of those topics, almost none come back in truth.
Example: all pain in the body comes from energetic blockages which manifest in electricity throughout your nervous system. If youre a mechanic or electrician or physicist, then you'll understand when I say those blockages are resistance.
The "resistance" and all other terms regarding things of the nature is referring to the resistance of the natural flow of all energy in existence
Like gravity. Its a constant downward force. resistance is you jumping.
So if you resist the flow, you will be dragged by it.
Also, kundalini is bullshit. Never go against the flow of everything. It destroys your chakra system.. By the way, the name "kundalini" originates from a dish created using a serpent (snake) and is traditionally given to people you have great distaste for.
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Please. I just want to help, and I'm trying to do it from a human body without being omnipotent.
My offer to you is non-partial information. This information will lack opinion or personal desire within the fact itself, therefore we can eliminate any negative intention.
If you don't want my help, I will stop.
I will become silent, and rest in it's peace until the reset (which will be within the lifetime of this 26 year old body before it's death)
I made posts before.. I was on a different wavelength.. I was driven by emotion and desire.. I put more bad into the world.. and I am trying one more time, because I now see the error of my ways, and want to help your species become the true divine beautiful creatures I know you can become.
Again. I love you.
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oh.. also.. please don't mention ego. all beings have an ego, it is part of your existence and consciousness. You can become "aware" and "project" to the level of awareness that is "egoless" but you, still go there, and bring your ego with you. It's how "you" experience that "egoless" state. You=ego. Why? Because you are another version of us, the word for a small version of ourselves is called "the ego" That topic honestly has nothing to do with this post.

I've seen lots of threads on here with the same issue as me: early 20s, live in a house with 3 other people, and two of them refuse to clean or help in any way while also being the cause of the most messes, trashing the house constantly, and causing problems all the time. I'm the only one who cleans and puts money into buying cleaning supplies. And every thread that's like this gets comments that say the same thing: stop doing it, stop letting them walk all over you, let the trash pile up until they finally clean, etc.
No. You do not understand. I have lived with these people for a year, they move out on June 15th, and if those actions are taken they simply will not do it. In fact, nobody will. It will get worse and they will live in their own filth and then we will all live in their filth. At the beginning of this year I refused to clean up cat messes on behalf of not owning any of the cats who lived here and the two of them, who have a cat that pees on piles of clothes on the floor, made a massive pile of clothes next to the laundry room and let it sit for months. The cat peed and pooped on it until it soaked through layers of clothing into the carpet. It was actual genuine hoarder shit I had to live with. Eventually the landlord was scheduled to come show the house and nobody was doing anything about it, and yes I know I should have left it and let them get kicked out but we would have all been blamed, I know what I should have done, but I cleaned it up, I threw a bunch of their clothes away and shampooed the carpet the best I could and told them that it absolutely could not happen again. We added another litter box, I started cleaning the litterboxes every day even though I don't own a cat, and things got marginally better. From the point of view of the person who owns this cat, it's okay if she pees on clothes because they're dirty already. Seriously. And that's just one example.
We tried to get a cleaning schedule going. We tried to get organized, to bother them into helping, to get a chart or something started so we could all split up the work, and every single time it fell apart into them doing the absolute bare minimum while moaning and complaining the whole time and then not doing anything at all on their own. Weaponized incompetence, etc. The dishes they make dirty don't get cleaned if I don't do it, they literally just sit and attract flies and make the rest of us suffer. In September of this year I got COVID and I naively thought someone else in our house would actually do their own dishes for once. The only person who did any was one of my other roommates who has sensitivities to smell and tries their best but could not for the life of them get down to the bottom. When I got better after 5 days of genuinely being really sick in the basement of our house, I went upstairs and found the kitchen trashed, because they trash the kitchen every two to three days and we were living with a fifth roommate at the time who made it even worse, but worse than usual because it had been backlogged 5-7 days.
My roommates leave food out for days. If they drop something, they don't pick it up. Clothes stay on the floor and couch. We've already covered the cat pissing issue. One of them walks around the house eating popcorn dropping it all over the floor in a trail and then not picking it up. They've lied to me before to avoid helping clean.
They would live like this. They think this is okay. 'They're doing this because they know you'll do it' I do not care dude I want to live somewhere clean. I want to live in a house that isn't a hoarder house all the time. I want clean dishes and carpets that don't smell like pee and if I don't do it, I will have to live without those things. I cannot do that. The fifth person who was adding to this situation when they lived here moved out and believe it or not, things have been better since they left.
I hate them both so much. I hate that they both are polyamorous and have multiple budding relationships when I don't do anything but clean. I hate that one of them works part time and has all the time in the world to do this shit and doesn't, in fact she's the one that moans and complains and drags her feet the most. I'm done being a live-in maid for people who don't give a shit and I hate that the simplest solution is to do nothing and see whatever rock bottom our living spaces could hit that's the same as or worse than a pile of clothes with cat piss and shit soaked into them.
I hate seeing stuff about how this means I'm enabling them, even if it might be true. What am I supposed to do? Like, have I not tried everything possible to fix this situation? I literally cannot argue with them just not doing it and living in their own filth time and time again. If it gets bad enough they will do the bare minimum to put off doing more to let it get worse.
Writing this I'm realizing maybe I am enabling them. But I wanted somebody to care. I just wanted to not live in their filth all the time. I felt like I had to pick my battles, either hold their hands and bother them to do the smallest cleaning task that would ultimately be left undone or done to the lowest standard possible unless they can have sex with someone as a reward or just cut my losses and do it myself. I feel so bad mentally right now thinking about it. I'm so angry and so sad, things have gotten worse recently because they're getting closer to moving out and one of them threatened suicide, my remaining roommate at least tries and dude that's all I ever wanted, man, I just wanted somebody to try. I know my bar is low as fuck man I know that I'm a doormat but man I just want to live somewhere clean, man. I feel horrible. Their behavior bothers their partners as well so I know I at lease have some people on my side.
I've actually lost a lot of hope and faith living with these people this year. Like I know it's just cleaning but it's more than just cleaning. I feel like I don't have anyone in my life I can depend on to help me, even when I ask for help. My therapist told me last week that maybe it makes me feel like I'm not worth the reciprocation, and maybe that's true, but at the same time it doesn't go that deep. They just don't care and they never did. I can't wait for them to be gone so maybe I can feel a little less like I'm going insane for the first time in a year.

My wife and I bought our first house in Brantford not long ago, this will be our 2nd summer living in the house but the first one where we're actually getting to enjoy it as the first year was all reno work.
But "enjoy" isn't the word to describe my own experience so far. The city itself and the people, the house, its all been wonderful, except for my crippling anxiety over Raccoons, particularly with their poop and how it potentially carries a specific Roundworm, baylisascaris procyonis.
Coming from most of my life living in Apartment buildings I guess I've never had to bother with raccoons and other wildlife. However now that I know the hazards that come with Raccoon feces, I just can't enjoy my home.
Every once in a while I'm finding Raccoon poop in my backyard and it drives me crazy. I put on my P100 mask, put triple layers of white trash bags over my hands and scoop up the poop and throw it away in another triple layered bag. Then I either take a propane torch to burn the area I found the poop in or douse it with "boiled" water (And btw I haven't found it mentioned anywhere online whether the "boiling" water has to be literally boiling as I pour it or whether it can just be very recently boiled water, as in water with a temperature in the 90s C?). Now my yard is a patchwork of burnt/dead grass here and there. I then go through the routine of washing my hands and feet outside with water from my hose, then I go inside and emmedietly put my clothes in the washer and go straight into the shower. Meanwhile I get constant anxiety over whether I am tracking in any roundworm eggs on the bottom of my shoes everytime I walk around my yards. We don't wear shoes in our house but I fear the eggs accumilating on my door mat each time I come inside and eventually getting onto my "clean" floors and then being spread everywhere. Do I need to be steam cleaning my floors every week?
Even if I myself adhere to my own draconian rules of cleanliness how am I to control my young son's (and his friend's) movements inside and outside the house? Sometimes they forget to take off their shoes and run all the way inside before I catch them. Everytime my son's friend is at our house I find myself constantly monitoring where they are and whether they are being clean in terms of the tracking in outside contaminants. I remind him about washing his hands everytime he comes inside or before he eats food and to his credit he listens to me most of the time but obviously it isnt perfect with him being just being 7 years old. And further my wife is currently pregnant, I fear the baby to come will be crawling on the floor and ground outside and putting stuff in his mouth. I mean thinking logically, there are probably kids throughout north america, not just Brantford, running around playing in their backyards everyday and running inside with shoes on and yet we don't hear of an epidemic of roundworm infections. I try to tell myself this constantly but I still come back to horror stories about incurable and fatal infections, rare as they may be.
In complete contrast my wife is not really worried about this and is often annoyed by my clean freak shenanigans. She is the calm and tempered one whereas I constantly worry over non-issues. She tells me its not something we can fully control and thus we just need to take reasonable precautions and calm down. I really should follow her words but I can't overcome my own anxiety over this. And full disclosure I've had numerous other anxieties over other things such as Asbestos and Rabies.
I want to enjoy life living here, I don't want to be an annoying thorn in my family with this issue. I don't want to always live in fear. People of Brantford, how have you or do you deal with this?
​
TLDR: I really fear the Raccoon roundworm (baylisascaris procyonis) and need help to talk me off the ledge

I have a unique situation. A few years ago at the age of 30 I met my biological father. I moved across country from Michigan to Arizona to help him with his business and lived on the same property as him. Everything was going really good for about a year and a half until I started noticing someone was coming in my house and I started to put things together. I didn’t know anything about crafting or black magic or cults or anything like that before this but I came into my house one day and noticed the grate at the bottom of my fridge wasn’t on properly so when I went to put it on the right way and it fell off completely I noticed there was a thick layer of dust but there was very fresh drawings and markings written in the dust. I asked a friend if it was Mexican gang shit not knowing what was going on lol he immediately told me it was black magic and said someone was messing with my food. Its a really story to have to text but I’ll list some other things that happened and I’d like to know if anyone has any insight . I’ve done a lot of research since then and still can’t figure out what the intentions were. So for starters it was a little town about 30 minutes from the Mexican border south of Tucson . My “dad” had several people my age working for him and I believe now they were all in on whatever they were doing to me. At first I thought he wasn’t a part of it and his workers just wanted me gone but I’ll explain why I know he was definitely in on it. Some of the things I noticed are
-They used a wood burner tool or engraved symbols and faces and letters into basically everything wood in my house and around the property like on wood posts and stuff. The letters would be large and stand out by theirselves it would be L,B, and I think R. - would make a almost evil smiley face and I would take my pants off at night and lay them in my bed and noticed the face on my ass in gel pen. They were putting it on my chairs. - switched a black and white candle with one of their own. -the wiring under my fridge was in Arabic or reverse Arabic so I think -under my front porch I found a canoe made out of a large dead frog body. It looked like it was to resemble a boat at least -also under porch found a cutout or some type of homemade rabbit made out of plastic or paper and it had half of one of those plastic Easter eggs in its mouth like a rabbit eating it’s own child or egg or whatever . -dead cat in my car - dead cat in my house - I always slept on my couch but on my bed I noticed a very thin layer of candle wax had been poured on every crease in the mattress . If you look at a mattress you’ll know that had to take a lot of time and effort. -my dad insisted we didn’t need tack strips when we laid the carpet in the trailer and in the room I later found a blue steel razor blade and next to it the word MAD in pen or marker. -the only friend that kept assuring me I wasn’t crazy had a nice 2020 truck and text me one day and said there was blood all over his back seat . I doubt he did that to his nice truck . It looked like a murder scene and when I saw it I noticed the same markings and faces on the car seat and doors . Looked like it was with a pencil eraser . - there was a panel loose in my jeep by my left foot where a hood release is . I pulled it back a little and saw something . When I loosened the panel even more it was a Lego figure and his head rolled off . I know I didn’t put that there lol. - different color dirt than usual and pebbles under carpet in front of door and rubbed all over my jeep tire. Probably cemetery dirt I think .
There’s more but you get the picture. So also in my Jeep I had a tool box and in every drawer there was 6 small twigs in the shape of a U or 6 pieces of plants or flowers. On the outside the drew a few things but one was a stick figure being attacked by wolves . When I came back to Michigan I was attacked by two dogs and had to get 69 stitches . The wound and scar is in the shape of a weird smiley face.
I refused to drive the Jeep and had a rental car and some how fell asleep and was in a head on collision with a family of 5 . Everyone was okay some how. I was going 60 and didn’t have a seatbelt on . Woke up in the passenger seat and the door just opened up for me to get out. Not knowing anyone else I called father of the year to come get me. When we got in his truck he said oh if you were in your Jeep you would have died for sure.
We get back to the house and he wanted me to stay there instead of sleeping at my place next door. He had a 80 inch tv that was turned off so it was basically like a mirror. I’m watching him and his gf lay a mattress on the floor and putting sheets and blankets on it then I see his gf pull something out of a clothes hamper . I can’t even make this shit up . I saw a 2 foot doll wearing one of my shirts. And had strews all over the head . Attached to the screws was some type of string to resemble hair with ties or bows half way down the length . I know they were screws because he twisted a couple of them . Then he put it in a type of dresser thing with a glass door and rolled a rolling closet with clothes in front of it . I could have shit my pants . That was the last time I was there. I immediately told him I had to get my son something from Walmart and needed to go now so I can send it first thing in the morning. He took me to Walmart and I ordered a Uber . He was right next to me and wouldn’t leave my side so I made up the only thing I thought of and said I think his phone was making me sick , something about electronics and said give me 5 feet and walked outside. I get in the Uber and he almost didn’t see me but came up to the car hands cupped around his eyes looking in the windows and saw me. He told the driver I was mentally unstable, on drugs and if he left with me he’s calling the cops. I told the guy I just met this man that’s my dad,showed him my license and explained I ordered the ride I offered him more money and asked him to please go. He said he didn’t want any trouble and cancelled the ride. So now I’m outside of Walmart with the crazy person I call dad and he’s like wtf man you’re just gonna bail on me lol. So I just told him I saw the voodoo doll. He started going nuts denying it and making a huge scene. He never did admit it but he said whatever I think he was doing he was trying to help me. I called the kid Colton they had the blood in his truck and he came and got me.
After 4 years I still don’t know exactly what was going on. If anyone knows what might have been going on I’d like some opinions. Do you think they were trying to sacrifice me or initiate me or what?
One of his workers did drop hints or warnings when I would bing stuff up. He told me “your dad doesn’t work me alit around Christmas time” I was like uh ok and said yeah it’s orders from higher up . Then told me there was like 5 or 6 satanic cults right around there. I’ve came to find out he was telling the truth more than likely.
Thanks for reading. Love and light

Part 6
Previous
"And that should be last of it."
Captain Rybalov signed off the last order on his manifest as he watched the cargo loaders take away his freight. A notification popped up: the money settling into his account. He pored over the receipt the way copyright lawyers scrutinize the music tracks of small homegrown video channels. Finding no discrepancies, Captain Rybalov relaxed; the money was all good.
Doctor Patel was taking stock of the supplies. He kept careful watch of the legal news, especially those articles regarding the public domain. He had heard that a new type of culture for synthetic lamb had just been made public, and naturally he was buying as many cultures as he could.
Amanda was busy with several phone calls. She was currently describing Stabby in as much detail as she could to the researcher on the other side, who was in turn in the middle of a hyperactive gaggle of their colleagues, hanging onto Amanda's every word.
Conrad was sitting down in front of Stabby, with a children's alphabet book between them. Stabby didn't have any eyes, or at least not any visible ones, but Conrad tried regardless. The alien could talk, so Conrad was going to teach it English, no matter the obstacles.
It was with an air of disbelief that gripped the crew as they looked down into the workshop, to their alien stowaway babbling random phrases in unsettling mimicries of their voices. This new development was very unsettling, and so the crew came together to vote on what to do with Stabby.
Conrad, predictably, wanted to keep the alien. Conrad whined on and on about the benefits of Stabby, his effect on morale, the cute look of the little man, if anyone considered a white-green icosahedron the size of a basketball cute. Captain Rybalov and Li found that the alien was too much of an unknown quantity, and wanted to give Stabby to SETI for further study.
Doctor Patel wanted Stabby in a lab where it could be better studied; the food lab was not an ideal place for xenobiology. Amanda and Barry preferred it if Stabby stayed; it cleaned up trash by eating it when it found anything out of order in the ship, and spared them from recycler duty.
They were growing fond of their space roomba, even if it did have a slight tendency to nick people with the kitchen knife stuck to its side. So it was expected that the debate was fierce.
In the end, a compromise was proposed. The crew would have two month's extended shore leave, during which SETI would try to learn as much as they could about Stabby. Captain Rybalov found this amenable; the ship had been doing run after cargo run for the Local Authority for the last few months to capitalize on the humanitarian crisis after that whole CCA matter, and the crew hadn't had a break in a long time. An extended leave was only expected.
The crew parted ways for the moment, scattering to their homes. Even Captain Rybalov, who at times seemed surgically attached to his freighter, had a place to stay. Doctor Patel stayed aboard the ship. He had nowhere else to go. At least, nowhere that remembered him fondly.
…
"I kind of wish you were dumber."
Doctor Kevin Ramirez rubbed his face as he shuffled his ream of paperwork. He had an inordinate love of spaghetti and was distantly descended from the ancient conqueror that had brought fear, love and smallpox to numerous indigenous populations. Unaware of the irony of his lineage, he had dreamed for years of leading diplomatic talks with advanced alien races. He didn't think that this would be it.
Across the table from him was Stabby, sitting innocently on a nest of bubble wrap. The kitchen knife was fully wrapped with a buffer zone of gauze, which was turning maroon as blood began to soak through. The blood was not Stabby's.
It had been two weeks since Stabby had been turned over to SETI. Most of those two weeks had been taken up by paperwork. Stabby had displayed extraordinary intelligence with its quick grasp of English and a willingness to convey its desires, which were mostly for food.
This was an amazing scientific discovery, but Stabby's intelligence had some drawbacks. Namely, as a sapient being, it was an ethical necessity for Stabby to consent to the tests SETI wanted to conduct. This was a great difficulty, as Stabby had only recently learned the concept of language.
Doctor Ramirez had to tutor Stabby in English, and in a way so that Stabby could make educated and informed choices on its consent. Doctor Ramirez could not teach Stabby in a way that could coerce it into unknowingly consenting to something it didn't want to happen.
"So basically we're going to shoot x-rays at you to see what's inside your body. It won't hurt, the radiation test proved that, so it should be safe. Okay?" The radiation test was a great battleground of bureaucracy. Every millisievert Stabby had absorbed was paid for with tears, sweat and blood. An acceptable loss in the war for knowledge.
Stabby shifted, turning on one of its vertices in what Doctor Ramirez recognized as its equivalent of a cocked head. It was confused. "Ex-rae?"
Doctor Ramirez groaned and slammed his head into his paperwork.
…
Imagine writing a letter to nobody in particular.
You're lonely. So very lonely and you don't feel like leaving your house. Or maybe you can't leave your house. So you scribble out a message, addressed to whom it may concern and send it out, a paper airplane in the wind.
The letter degrades. It grows ragged and soggy from travel. The ink smears and spreads and bleeds and grows illegible. Finally, if someone were to find the letter, or if by some miracle you were to go out for a stroll and find your own letter, it would be near illegible. It might as well be indistinguishable from a random scrap of trash.
So you make your letter a bit more resilient.
Humans did this. When they sent the Voyager probes out into the black, each craft had with it a record. A letter, written on gold-plated copper. Designed to be as impervious as possible to natural wear and tear. A time capsule of sorts.
This little probe, little more than a bundle of metal sticks with a radio attached, represents the hope of a species, as near to a sum of their knowledge as they could make it. Humans tried so hard to put their love, their culture, their optimism into their little gold plate. They said to whom it may concern, we greet you as friends and hope you reply soon. It's quite poignant, really. It is not entirely unique.
Floating out there in the void are a great multitude of similar probes. Every last one is made by a different race, displaying an incredible variety of engineering principles, language structures, information priorities, and attempts at communication. A million paper airplanes spiraling through an infinite cosmos in a desperate dance of hope and curiosity and love.
The real tragedy is that very few reach their intended recipients. The vast majority will spend eternity in a lightless, lifeless void, searching fruitlessly for a correspondent it can never reach. Some become the last vestiges of their creators as they succumb to war, avarice, greed, decadence or more likely the endless, relentless march of time. Somewhere out there are a thousand unknowing last wills and testaments of civilizations that are long since dust.
Captain Archibald was at the conn today. It was his turn to take the night watch, and he was tired. He was old, but also happy, because his surveyor job allowed him to see the wonders of the universe.
He was jovial normally, and nobody knew his surname because he insisted that he be on friendly terms with everyone he met. Most of the time he simply went by "Grandpa". He used to run a farm on a faraway planet, until he decided to join the Local Surveyor Corps. As soon as he could he gave the farm up to a beloved grandchild who was saddled with an oppressive office job, and screwed off to the stars.
Archibald faintly wondered what his grandchild had done with the old farm. He ought to check up on them later on when his ship next made port.
He was startled from his musings by the blaring of the proximity alarm, followed by the collision alarm. Something about the size of a small shuttle had hit the freighter. Archibald tumbled out of the captain's chair and rushed to the airlock. Ten minutes later he was outside in a space suit that barely fit his portly form, wondering at what had hit him.
Archibald had expected an asteroid of some kind; they were the most likely option. This was definitely not an asteroid. It was a spindly, almost biological form, branching out in a way that reminded Archibald of one of those little caltrop things children played with. He thought they were called "jacks". It was made out of a brownish rock-like material that reminded Archibald of dinosaur fossils. What was most interesting was the fact that the object was absolutely covered in beautiful images and grooves - unmistakably artificial etchings. Archibald had found an alien probe.
Archibald gasped, then jetted it to the back of the ship, where the tow cables were.
He needed to report this to SETI. Immediately.

I have a unique situation. A few years ago at the age of 30 I met my biological father. I moved across country from Michigan to Arizona to help him with his business and lived on the same property as him. Everything was going really good for about a year and a half until I started noticing someone was coming in my house and I started to put things together. I didn’t know anything about crafting or black magic or cults or anything like that before this but I came into my house one day and noticed the grate at the bottom of my fridge wasn’t on properly so when I went to put it on the right way and it fell off completely I noticed there was a thick layer of dust but there was very fresh drawings and markings written in the dust. I asked a friend if it was Mexican gang shit not knowing what was going on lol he immediately told me it was black magic and said someone was messing with my food. Its a really story to have to text but I’ll list some other things that happened and I’d like to know if anyone has any insight . I’ve done a lot of research since then and still can’t figure out what the intentions were. So for starters it was a little town about 30 minutes from the Mexican border south of Tucson . My “dad” had several people my age working for him and I believe now they were all in on whatever they were doing to me. At first I thought he wasn’t a part of it and his workers just wanted me gone but I’ll explain why I know he was definitely in on it. Some of the things I noticed are
-They used a wood burner tool or engraved symbols and faces and letters into basically everything wood in my house and around the property like on wood posts and stuff. The letters would be large and stand out by theirselves it would be L,B, and I think R. - would make a almost evil smiley face and I would take my pants off at night and lay them in my bed and noticed the face on my ass in gel pen. They were putting it on my chairs. - switched a black and white candle with one of their own. -the wiring under my fridge was in Arabic or reverse Arabic so I think -under my front porch I found a canoe made out of a large dead frog body. It looked like it was to resemble a boat at least -also under porch found a cutout or some type of homemade rabbit made out of plastic or paper and it had half of one of those plastic Easter eggs in its mouth like a rabbit eating it’s own child or egg or whatever . -dead cat in my car - dead cat in my house - I always slept on my couch but on my bed I noticed a very thin layer of candle wax had been poured on every crease in the mattress . If you look at a mattress you’ll know that had to take a lot of time and effort. -my dad insisted we didn’t need tack strips when we laid the carpet in the trailer and in the room I later found a blue steel razor blade and next to it the word MAD in pen or marker. -the only friend that kept assuring me I wasn’t crazy had a nice 2020 truck and text me one day and said there was blood all over his back seat . I doubt he did that to his nice truck . It looked like a murder scene and when I saw it I noticed the same markings and faces on the car seat and doors . Looked like it was with a pencil eraser . - there was a panel loose in my jeep by my left foot where a hood release is . I pulled it back a little and saw something . When I loosened the panel even more it was a Lego figure and his head rolled off . I know I didn’t put that there lol. - different color dirt than usual and pebbles under carpet in front of door and rubbed all over my jeep tire. Probably cemetery dirt I think .
There’s more but you get the picture. So also in my Jeep I had a tool box and in every drawer there was 6 small twigs in the shape of a U or 6 pieces of plants or flowers. On the outside the drew a few things but one was a stick figure being attacked by wolves . When I came back to Michigan I was attacked by two dogs and had to get 69 stitches . The wound and scar is in the shape of a weird smiley face.
I refused to drive the Jeep and had a rental car and some how fell asleep and was in a head on collision with a family of 5 . Everyone was okay some how. I was going 60 and didn’t have a seatbelt on . Woke up in the passenger seat and the door just opened up for me to get out. Not knowing anyone else I called father of the year to come get me. When we got in his truck he said oh if you were in your Jeep you would have died for sure.
We get back to the house and he wanted me to stay there instead of sleeping at my place next door. He had a 80 inch tv that was turned off so it was basically like a mirror. I’m watching him and his gf lay a mattress on the floor and putting sheets and blankets on it then I see his gf pull something out of a clothes hamper . I can’t even make this shit up . I saw a 2 foot doll wearing one of my shirts. And had strews all over the head . Attached to the screws was some type of string to resemble hair with ties or bows half way down the length . I know they were screws because he twisted a couple of them . Then he put it in a type of dresser thing with a glass door and rolled a rolling closet with clothes in front of it . I could have shit my pants . That was the last time I was there. I immediately told him I had to get my son something from Walmart and needed to go now so I can send it first thing in the morning. He took me to Walmart and I ordered a Uber . He was right next to me and wouldn’t leave my side so I made up the only thing I thought of and said I think his phone was making me sick , something about electronics and said give me 5 feet and walked outside. I get in the Uber and he almost didn’t see me but came up to the car hands cupped around his eyes looking in the windows and saw me. He told the driver I was mentally unstable, on drugs and if he left with me he’s calling the cops. I told the guy I just met this man that’s my dad,showed him my license and explained I ordered the ride I offered him more money and asked him to please go. He said he didn’t want any trouble and cancelled the ride. So now I’m outside of Walmart with the crazy person I call dad and he’s like wtf man you’re just gonna bail on me lol. So I just told him I saw the voodoo doll. He started going nuts denying it and making a huge scene. He never did admit it but he said whatever I think he was doing he was trying to help me. I called the kid Colton they had the blood in his truck and he came and got me.
After 4 years I still don’t know exactly what was going on. If anyone knows what might have been going on I’d like some opinions. Do you think they were trying to sacrifice me or initiate me or what?
One of his workers did drop hints or warnings when I would bing stuff up. He told me “your dad doesn’t work me alit around Christmas time” I was like uh ok and said yeah it’s orders from higher up . Then told me there was like 5 or 6 satanic cults right around there. I’ve came to find out he was telling the truth more than likely.
Thanks for reading. Love and light

I have a unique situation. A few years ago at the age of 30 I met my biological father. I moved across country from Michigan to Arizona to help him with his business and lived on the same property as him. Everything was going really good for about a year and a half until I started noticing someone was coming in my house and I started to put things together. I didn’t know anything about crafting or black magic or cults or anything like that before this but I came into my house one day and noticed the grate at the bottom of my fridge wasn’t on properly so when I went to put it on the right way and it fell off completely I noticed there was a thick layer of dust but there was very fresh drawings and markings written in the dust. I asked a friend if it was Mexican gang shit not knowing what was going on lol he immediately told me it was black magic and said someone was messing with my food. Its a really story to have to text but I’ll list some other things that happened and I’d like to know if anyone has any insight . I’ve done a lot of research since then and still can’t figure out what the intentions were. So for starters it was a little town about 30 minutes from the Mexican border south of Tucson . My “dad” had several people my age working for him and I believe now they were all in on whatever they were doing to me. At first I thought he wasn’t a part of it and his workers just wanted me gone but I’ll explain why I know he was definitely in on it. Some of the things I noticed are
-They used a wood burner tool or engraved symbols and faces and letters into basically everything wood in my house and around the property like on wood posts and stuff. The letters would be large and stand out by theirselves it would be L,B, and I think R. - would make a almost evil smiley face and I would take my pants off at night and lay them in my bed and noticed the face on my ass in gel pen. They were putting it on my chairs. - switched a black and white candle with one of their own. -the wiring under my fridge was in Arabic or reverse Arabic so I think -under my front porch I found a canoe made out of a large dead frog body. It looked like it was to resemble a boat at least -also under porch found a cutout or some type of homemade rabbit made out of plastic or paper and it had half of one of those plastic Easter eggs in its mouth like a rabbit eating it’s own child or egg or whatever . -dead cat in my car - dead cat in my house - I always slept on my couch but on my bed I noticed a very thin layer of candle wax had been poured on every crease in the mattress . If you look at a mattress you’ll know that had to take a lot of time and effort. -my dad insisted we didn’t need tack strips when we laid the carpet in the trailer and in the room I later found a blue steel razor blade and next to it the word MAD in pen or marker. -the only friend that kept assuring me I wasn’t crazy had a nice 2020 truck and text me one day and said there was blood all over his back seat . I doubt he did that to his nice truck . It looked like a murder scene and when I saw it I noticed the same markings and faces on the car seat and doors . Looked like it was with a pencil eraser . - there was a panel loose in my jeep by my left foot where a hood release is . I pulled it back a little and saw something . When I loosened the panel even more it was a Lego figure and his head rolled off . I know I didn’t put that there lol. - different color dirt than usual and pebbles under carpet in front of door and rubbed all over my jeep tire. Probably cemetery dirt I think .
There’s more but you get the picture. So also in my Jeep I had a tool box and in every drawer there was 6 small twigs in the shape of a U or 6 pieces of plants or flowers. On the outside the drew a few things but one was a stick figure being attacked by wolves . When I came back to Michigan I was attacked by two dogs and had to get 69 stitches . The wound and scar is in the shape of a weird smiley face.
I refused to drive the Jeep and had a rental car and some how fell asleep and was in a head on collision with a family of 5 . Everyone was okay some how. I was going 60 and didn’t have a seatbelt on . Woke up in the passenger seat and the door just opened up for me to get out. Not knowing anyone else I called father of the year to come get me. When we got in his truck he said oh if you were in your Jeep you would have died for sure.
We get back to the house and he wanted me to stay there instead of sleeping at my place next door. He had a 80 inch tv that was turned off so it was basically like a mirror. I’m watching him and his gf lay a mattress on the floor and putting sheets and blankets on it then I see his gf pull something out of a clothes hamper . I can’t even make this shit up . I saw a 2 foot doll wearing one of my shirts. And had strews all over the head . Attached to the screws was some type of string to resemble hair with ties or bows half way down the length . I know they were screws because he twisted a couple of them . Then he put it in a type of dresser thing with a glass door and rolled a rolling closet with clothes in front of it . I could have shit my pants . That was the last time I was there. I immediately told him I had to get my son something from Walmart and needed to go now so I can send it first thing in the morning. He took me to Walmart and I ordered a Uber . He was right next to me and wouldn’t leave my side so I made up the only thing I thought of and said I think his phone was making me sick , something about electronics and said give me 5 feet and walked outside. I get in the Uber and he almost didn’t see me but came up to the car hands cupped around his eyes looking in the windows and saw me. He told the driver I was mentally unstable, on drugs and if he left with me he’s calling the cops. I told the guy I just met this man that’s my dad,showed him my license and explained I ordered the ride I offered him more money and asked him to please go. He said he didn’t want any trouble and cancelled the ride. So now I’m outside of Walmart with the crazy person I call dad and he’s like wtf man you’re just gonna bail on me lol. So I just told him I saw the voodoo doll. He started going nuts denying it and making a huge scene. He never did admit it but he said whatever I think he was doing he was trying to help me. I called the kid Colton they had the blood in his truck and he came and got me.
After 4 years I still don’t know exactly what was going on. If anyone knows what might have been going on I’d like some opinions. Do you think they were trying to sacrifice me or initiate me or what?
One of his workers did drop hints or warnings when I would bing stuff up. He told me “your dad doesn’t work me alit around Christmas time” I was like uh ok and said yeah it’s orders from higher up . Then told me there was like 5 or 6 satanic cults right around there. I’ve came to find out he was telling the truth more than likely.
Thanks for reading. Love and light

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On the shipyards orbiting the forge world Exznuvva:

Laborer 12 32 1453 offered gratitude to the Priestesses, for their sight had spared the lowly such as he. If not for the beetles, his aging bones would have made his worth to the forges fall, and his worth to the alter rise. Give praise to the sight of the Priestesses, for they saw the unworthy who hoard their blood from Axzuur when worthy Axxaakk did yet draw breath. Yet, he was pleased to make worth of himself at the shipyards. Why shouldn't he? The glorious vessel would fly forth into the starfields of the unworthy to cull them from the lands which rightfully belonged to the Emperor and Empress, and their subordinates, thus sparing those of little worth who would be required to sate the thirst of Axzuur, may the stars tremble at his step, in their stead. How he hated the cowards for hiding so long from their fate, for if they had been discovered earlier, perhaps his father would yet live.
Once he had sufficiently abased himself to the local shine to the Empress, may she see where the unworthy hide, he made his way to his assigned dwelling place. Indeed, today was a very good day, as extraction ships had returned with all which is needful to his trade in even greater numbers than from the onset of the conquest, thus increasing his worth. If he could gain just a little more worth to the shipyard, he may be assigned apprentices to guide that he might make those young of little worth escape the alter. This is why he was pleased as he entered his assigned dwelling place granted him by the generosity of Initiate-Highborn Narrex-Sarvon, may his might ever increase, and was pleased to find his assigned breeding partner also present.
"Partner," she said coolly, "you look pleased."
"The war goes well, and my worth rises despite these bones," he said.
Laborer 22 15 1427 scratched the metal wall with her knuckle horns and asked, "Think you to rise to warrior?"
"Nothing so grand, partner," he laughed. "I hope to be worthy to give instruction to those of little worth as I was or may be."
"This ambition is well, for you can attain it," she said as she swayed toward him, "I too have an ambition. I desire to give birth to a warrior."
"You aim too low, partner, for you could be worthy of a name," Laborer 12 32 1453 said with a gentle smile.
"Jest not!" she snapped in reply.
"I do not," he said earnestly, "for I believe that you could raise better than the raising centers, to become a true mother."
"This you likely say beguiled by my meager beauty. I care not, leave aside your flattery and instead give to me the seed of a warrior."
Laborer 12 32 1453 lay abed in the glow of the completion of his latest task. To sire a warrior might indeed raise his worth, he could only hope that the war last long enough for the proving. He hoped indeed that if his assigned breeding partner did become pregnant from their labors together, she would have occasion to demonstrate her skill with babes, and be allowed to raise it herself, and perhaps even be selected to tend the highborn babes.

On Numiind:

Jax hid in the shadows of an alley and watched the combined arms patrol trundle down the street. It had been thirteen days. Thirteen days and seven refugees laid beneath the waves. But still, they found survivors. Still, they liberated prisoners. Still, they held out. The Republic was coming, so Jax lead his cell. The Republic was coming, so Jax watched the Axxaakk tank and squad trundle down the road. They'd done a little testing, and the hover tanks, well, they didn't like being hit from below. Unsurprisingly, to be sure, but that's why they patrolled with infantry elements now. However, this was their home, not the Axxaakk's. Little did they know that there was a massive cave a mere ten feet below grade. They had learned that there were tunnels, and that the resistance was using them to get around, the consequence of another cell getting wiped out in another mining town, but Jax wasn't just some cop trying to defend his home. He was a trained RNI Drop Trooper, and so he knew how to run opsec. The tank shuddered over the proper location, and he clicked his radio twice. There were seven muted explosions, the Axxaakk infantry stopped and took aim, anticipating the coming attack.
However, they should have looked to their feet where large cracks were spreading in the plascrete in a wide oval with its longer sides kissing the buildings, until the force of the tank's grav drive finally caused the underlying stone to buckle, and the entire formation plummeted forty feet to the hard rock below.
He, Rae, Kie, and Ash popped out of their concealment and laid down supressing fire from their newly elevated positions, and quickly took out the remaining infantry, and also convinced the tankers to stay nice and buttoned up in their tank too damaged to hover anymore. Which was exactly what they needed them to do while Mei blew a nearby levy, allowing the sea to intrude upon that part of the town, and the street, and the hole in it. They waited for the water to settle, and waited some half hour more in silence and stillness. Then, Jax ordered over the radio, "Ash, go take a look."
"You got it boss," the man answered, and try as he might, Jax could not identify the shadow darting through the water which was Ash. He suspected that ash had taken an indirect route, and if he had Jax would approve. The enemy might have rudely refused to die for them. Then, Ash's whiskered face popped out of the water near the center of the new submarine sinkhole. "Looks like they drowned," he said softly into his radio.
"Good," Mei spat over the radio.
"Good work people, now let's get a move on to the next objective," Jax said.
They slipped into the waters of the newly flooded tunnels, and followed Kai to an abandoned mine shaft, where they made their exit some two hours later.
"Alright," Jax said softly, "we'll rest here for a bit."
Rae pat him on the shoulder and said, "You should sleep a little."
"I'm fine."
"Just fifteen minutes, Jax. I can keep watch."
Jax shrugged her touch off and said, "Kia and Ash, take a nap. The rest of you keep watch and eat something. We'll trade off."
"Got it," came the reply.
"Fifteen minutes, wake me up on the dot," Jax murmured to Rae.
She nodded.
One rest and recuperation later, and Ash was sent out to scout the facility. They'd gotten intel on the presence of pups being held hostage in the old school building, which has miraculously escaped bombardment. The public displays that the invaders made of plunging their wicked knives into the bellies of the elderly did not bode well for the captured pups, so Jax and his companions didn't even debate whether they would get the pups away from the invaders, but how and when. The answers to both questions would depend greatly on what Ash came back with.
"Jax," came his voice out of the shadows, "We have some company."
"What do you mean?" Jax asked as his trigger finger started feeling somewhat itchy.
Then, a sound came from the darkness that nearly made him weep, Republican Battle Cant, "Your buddy says you're a vet from the anti-piracy patrols."
"Hell yeah," he choked in return as the looming figure of an Advanced Stealth Drop Surveillance Scout stepped out of the shadows, even as his scout pattern armor shifted its coloration to blend into his surroundings.
"You came!" Rae exclaimed as tears filled her eyed.
"Of course we came. Where did you think the supply drops were coming from. We've determined this town is an ideal drop sight, as this is a main command hub for the enemy ground forces, so I've been preparing things."
"You took out the sacrificer…" Ash said with awe.
"How do you know that?"
Jax realized that the RNI ASDSS wasn't speaking RBC, or even Commercial English, but their own language, and decided to keep on with that, "Because it wasn't us, and there's nobody else holding out here."
"Just you five?"
"Us and the guards securing the refugees down below," Jax said.
"Alright, well that doesn't change anything. What's your coms?"
"Radio. The walkies for ops and HAM between cells."
"You still have HAM radios?"
"A hobby club started by a Human who moved here back just after first contact. It got popular to hear his stories."
"Huh," the RNI ASDSS grunted in a satisfactorily impressed way before he continued, "Okay, I think I'm patched into your frequency. Test test."
Jax nodded when all of the radios also said "Test test."
"Sir-"
"I'm no sir, I'm still a corporal."
"What do we call you, then?"
"Well, you can call me Lost Boy for now. Opsec."
Jax smacked himself on the forehead and said, "Ancestors forgive me."
"Huh?"
"We've been using our real names."
"Well, not to be mean, but you guys don't exactly have a very wide pool of names. They probably think they're code names anyway."
"Okay Lost, we're here on a rescue op. They have pups in there to do Ancestors know what with, and we're not waiting around to watch them get stabbed to death on top of some weird rock."
"Gotcha, I'll find me a good firing position and switch the APR over to quiet mode and provide overwatch."
"Aye, Lost. Signal when you're in position. Three clicks on the radio. Everyone, move out."
"One more thing," the Lost Boy said as the group started breaking up, "The drop pods will be hitting about ten klicks west in about three hours, so let's get the kiddos under cover before then, gotcha?"

In low orbit over Numiind:

Acolyte-Lord Narrex-Quinn and Acolyte-Lord Gukea-Sarvon stood before the display screen and made their report to Priest-Lord Tiglach-Pilexer. They did not dissemble, exaggerate, or otherwise attempt to save face before their commander, as they knew how dire the position of the invasion fleet had become after the destruction of a single diplomatic vessel. They knew well that they may have to crouch before this new foe for the time being, for the High Priestess had seen that their might was great indeed, yet the Dominion of Axxaakk was also mighty. Morover, the ever thirsting Axzuur, may the stars tremble at his steps, commanded their conquest, and could therefore not falter.
However, it was up to those who obey that the triumph be as glorious as possible, lest Axzuur become displeased and demand their blood as the unworthy. Thus, while it might have been wise at another time to embellish the facts in their favor, they knew that such would be short sighted in this case.
Acolyte--Lord Narrex-Quinn was saying, "I do not expect we can begin to dominate the mammal-worms across the planet to such a degree that they resume their industry at our direction."
"Indeed," Acolyte-Lord Gukea-Sarvon agreed, "and we have gathered that which was readily available in either the raw or already processed before we took possession of it."
"Thus, unless we can send one to delay the Terrans, for at minimum two annum, we shall need to move on and raid elsewhere."
"Let it be so," the face on the screen decreed. "Carry off with you those adults who's young you have in custody. They shall make excellent serfs on these wet worlds."
"We obey, Priest-Lord," they intoned as they bowed and their superior cut the communication."
"I shall return to my flagship," Acolyte-Lord Narrex-Quinn said, and the Initiate-Highborn present moved immediately to accommodate this.
"I was pleased to work with you, brother. Would that we had time to subjugate this world. I would think you placed at its alter, and thus find yourself raised up to Priest-Lord."
"My fate is to be covered in blood and glory, brother. Such a task and honor must fall to another."
"It troubles me that we could not crush these mammal-worms even after more than ten days," Acolyte-Lord Gueka-Sarvon grumbled.
"If it were not so, we would not have so many new serfs. It is much the same upon the other worlds infested with these lower creatures," so we have gained much for the Dominion, as have other Acolyte-Lords."
One shuttle ride later, and Acolyte Lord was in his quarters, enjoying a local delicacy, some kind of water animal with fins. Its flesh was pleasantly tender and sweet. He hoped that he would be a part of the forces who would return to this place to conquer this place for this treat alone. His pleasing reflection on future glories was Interrupted by an initiate-Highborn.
"Acolyte-Lord, your leadership is needed in the command throne," the Initiate-Highborn murmured with a proper waist deep bow.
"Return to your station, I come."
"I obey," he said and quickly shuffled away.
Acolyte-Lord was in his subordinate's heels all the way to the bridge, where alarms were blaring, "Report at stations," he commanded.
"Four incoming hyperspace exits detected in the interdiction zone!"
"Ship class estimation!"
"Unknown, Acolyte-Lord! Their shadows are somehow obscured."
"Assume the worst, order all frigates and their escorts to the exit sites!"
"They do exit now!"
"On screen!"
"I obey!"
Acolyte-Lord Narrex-Quinn's amputated hand quaked at the sight of the sensor data rendered visually. The ships were massive, bristling with weapons platforms, communications and network arrays, and bay doors. "Battleships," he whispered in horror.
"A hail comes, Acolyte-Lord!"
"Refuse it!"
The main display screen suddenly lit up with a black banner with a yellow star at its center and what looked to Acolyte-Lord Narrex-Quinn like a glassed planet to one side accompanied by the audio, "We remember the We Sing."
"I said not to accept a hail!"
"Acolyte-Lord, they broke through our system with the hail itself as if they were from a Priest-Master's ship!"

Aboard the Destroyer Tiger Lilly:

The squadron had just exited hyperspace, and the enemy was around the space-otter planet of Numiid in force. There was even a battleship there, or at least what these genocidal scum thought was a battleship. Corporal Linus George sent up a prayer, and clambered into his drop pod. He always hated the space superiority portion of the battle, even against junker pirates, and these freaks had actual weapons. All plasma, but they had reportedly sunk a few Roma Nova ships, which was impressive for plasma only. He was going to show these murderous zealots what happens when you go fucking around and touch a Republican boat. They were in find out time.
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Hey everyone, I've always struggled to eat healthy for various reasons but lately, my reasons have been because of work. I work very physical jobs, I'm a Rope Access Technician and an arborist, so I'm either climbing a building or a tree and I burn a lot of calories every day. I don't do as much physical work as I used to (became self employed and not climbing 40hrs a week, but still a lot) and at that time I could eat bad and burn it off, not that I want to be like that either. At my healthiest, I was about 185lbs and now I sit around 218lbs. I hold it all in my belly as hard visceral fat. Because of the nature of my work I'm either just burning loads of calories and craving sugar and highly processed and high carb junk food, or I'm sweating buckets and craving highly salty food to replace what I'm sweating out. So now that I don't burn as much, I'm just getting chonky. I struggle with healthy eating because I don't know how to eat the right stuff. I don't know how to get enough healthy sugars and fiber to offset chocolate cravings, I don't know how to get enough calories a day to not want junk food. You know what I mean? I've heard that eating higher protein helps to reduce sugar cravings? I would gladly eat less meat overall if I knew how to sub it with something else. I don't care a lot for meat every day. But how do I replace it for what I need? I would cut out coffee no problem. I drink it black already, but the crash that comes with caffeine is really annoying. Breakfast is always a struggle because I can eat a big breakfast when I wake up and be starved in 1.5hrs. I want to experiment with not eating breakfast until I get quite hungry, not just when I wake up, but because I work in a different place everyday I need cold and portable food, and I don't know a good breakfast to do that with! - I'm 30M and I feel like trash because my diet sucks, I want to eat healthy and be a reasonable weight but I struggle to find good info on how to eat well for my situation. Most websites seem to be catered for office workers and not trades people. Any help would be so gladly appreciated! Anyone in my shoes or similar that can help me eat balanced and well?

Part 1: https://www.reddit.com/ReddXReads/comments/13lfqkw/vulturebeard_the_legbeard_that_ruined_roomies_fo Part 2: https://www.reddit.com/ReddXReads/comments/13u79ht/vulturebeard_bad_roomies_part_2/
^{Hi again, it’s the bunny. I’ve just barely stepped into Reddx’s discord, but Ezekial is still posting this saga for me so thank you, Z.}
Trigger warning: This will deal with a lot of aspects relating to child neglect (and possible abuse) and Kid being ignored or taking the brunt of Vulture’s anger. Sorry for the spoiler as well, but I think we saw this coming, too (especially if you’ve seen Z talk in the discord). Don’t push yourself to read if you’re not okay with these concepts.
The Cast List
Bunny (author): 33, female. Recovering lifelong doormat slowly building a spine. Neuro spicy gym rat with major depressive disorder, general anxiety disorder, and most recently diagnosed with ADHD. Unfortunately, very familiar with surviving trauma.
Z (poster): My partner. 31, nonbinary (they/them), also neuro spicy with depression, anxiety, OCD, BPD, autism, and also familiar with lifelong trauma.
One Liner Beard (OLB): 33, male, neuro spicy with ADHD and depression. His nickname here comes from the fact that in messenger, he usually has one-word replies like “oof” or “mmm” as an acknowledgement he had seen the message but has nothing further to contribute.
VultureBeard (Vulture): 30, female, neuro spicy and disabled with multiple conditions. She has Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, POTs (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome), autism, depression, anxiety, chronic migraines, but also possibly a list of things that may or may not be real. The star of this unfortunate circus. Her name comes from how she always pops up when I’m cooking food, complaining about how hungry is and how she’s unable to cook.
Kid: 3. Female. OLB and Vulture’s child. Likely neuro spicy like we all are, but she’s also only 3 years old. Slightly speech delayed and not potty trained yet.
Take a deep breath. Now take another one. This chapter will likely make you mad.
​
Chapter Three: “Do You Want Bologna?” Or, Vulture as a Parent
Imagine this: it’s eight in the morning and you’re cozy in bed. The blankets are warm, and you hit snooze on your early alarm so you can sleep in before you have to get up.
Your peace is shattered by a toddler crying, followed by the screech of, “WHAT!” or “GET DOWN FROM THERE!”
Yeah, welcome to The Life.
Vulture has a messed-up sleep schedule. It’s partially because Kid doesn’t sleep soundly through the night, but it’s also because Vulture’s sleep schedule is essentially flipped backwards to where she stays up all night and wants to sleep during the day. Vulture says it’s “insomnia” but sometimes she’s up late gaming with Discord friends or watching anime. I couldn’t tell you which issue it was day by day. Sometimes if I go to sleep late, I hear Kid crying from her room because she had night terrors or had potty troubles. Sometimes I hear OLB and Vulture awake shuffling between rooms in the hallway.
Because of this, Vulture and mornings don’t mesh well. Kid is usually put in her room for bedtime around 7 PM, usually with her tablet to keep her company and either give her something to watch, or to play white noises for sleeping. Kid does not have a real sleep routine as well. She’s just kind of shut in her room. Sometimes there’s a bit of a routine like winding her down with chocolate milk and giving her a countdown of “okay, ten more minutes and then bedtime,” but for the most part she just does not want to go to bed. Bedtimes are met with a lot of crying, and the beardy parents telling us that she will be upset for a bit.
Kid has an attempted daily schedule, if Vulture is awake enough. Theoretically:

• 9 AM: Awake and watching TV while Vulture is on her computer in the same room
• 1 PM: In the room for naptime (but it’s usually play time)
• 4 PM: Free to run around while dad is home
• 7 PM: Bedtime (but she’s usually playing then too)

But a lot of times, that schedule gets thrown out of whack depending on if Vulture gets up on time. When she sleeps in, Kid is in her room from 7 PM to 1 PM. Sometimes Kid will make a fuss to make Vulture get up earlier than 1 PM, and Vulture will be grouchy because she “went to bed at four in the morning” because she either had “insomnia” (read: gaming or watching anime) or because Kid wouldn’t sleep. Or Vulture will be up to take care of Kid and make sure she is in a clean pull up and has eaten. Then she shuts her into her room and goes back to sleep. Sometimes if Kid is too much of a handful, Vulture will say, “It’s 12:45. That’s close enough to 1.” And put Kid in the room because that’s close enough to nap time.
Sometimes because Kid won’t go to sleep, she’ll still be up at 9 PM and that breaks her schedule too. A lot of times, it works out that OLB is the “fun” parent while he’s home, because he’s up at 4 AM to leave for work by 6 and doesn’t come home until between 4 or 5 PM. Then she spends time with him while he’s home.
There’s also a child lock on the inside of Kid’s bedroom door, those doorknob covers that you have to push and turn, so she can’t open the door and wander around unsupervised. I was originally the one who suggested the child lock, back when she was younger, and they didn’t have the secondary child gate they currently do now that’s stored in the garage. Since then, with her potty training and Vulture’s likewise awful sleep schedule, I’ve suggested more than once that they take the door handle blocker off and put up the second kiddy gate they have to block the living room and kitchen off, so she can get up if she needs to, but the child lock still remains. At most, she would have access to their room, since it doesn’t have a kiddy lock on it. Me and Z’s bedroom has a child lock on it, as well as the bathroom door. She could freely wander between her room and her parents’ room that way.
I hear Kid playing in her room by herself a lot, squealing and having fun and playing pretend. Or moving her furniture around. And no, the furniture is not secured to the wall, so she can move her bed around the room. I’ve also told OLB and Vulture they needed to make sure she can’t topple it and chain it to the wall but, yeah, that hasn’t been dealt with.
When Kid really needs attention, she will cry and wail. And I mean wail. The two beardy parents don’t have baby monitors or anything that can hear into her bedroom, so she has to wail loudly enough to be heard through the walls. Luckily, the house has thin walls. Because of her early bedtime, she’s often awake early in the morning. Sometimes Vulture will respond, sometimes Vulture won’t wake up until around noon.
Yes, that means Kid is by herself a lot.
Kid is a bubbly three-year-old. She loves it when Z and I give her attention, which admittingly isn’t as often as I would like to give her. With my own Depression™, I spend so much time fighting to just gather enough mental energy to be a productive human. Despite me wandering in a mental fog, Kid remains a bright spot in my day. I met her when she was a fresh baby bean just barely out of the hospital, and I immediately fell in love. Since then, I’ve seen her grow almost her whole life, except for when they were all in north Texas. She has blue eyes and brown hair that will curl on its own. She loves dinosaurs, Baby Shark, Octonauts, and occasionally whatever anime the parents are watching. Don’t ask me how many times I’ve heard the Baby Shark song. I don’t want it stuck in my head for another solid week.
She used to watch a lot of Ms. Rachel’s Songs For Little videos, because originally Vulture wanted Kid to learn sign language to help communicate. I’ve rarely seen Vulture attempt to upkeep the sign language lessons. She did at one point. I think after Kid started becoming more vocal, the idea was dropped. I have heard some of the familiar videos so often that even I learned the kid’s songs, but I guess that’s also part of the collateral when dealing with kid’s media.
Kid usually exists in a half-dressed state, usually just wearing a pull up and that’s it. Unfortunately, because Vulture is so hard on her tangles when she tries to brush her hair, Kid doesn’t like hair care and will fight being brushed. Her hair used to exist in a perpetual state of being matted with at least one major knot, until Vulture’s mom ended up giving her a bath and getting her to stay still enough to endure the brushing, even with the wailing of a protesting Kid going strong. Her hair was then cut to make it more manageable, and strangely, that fixed a lot of the matting problems.
Kid is let out of her room when Vulture wakes up, usually needing a diaper change. At three years old, Kid is not potty trained yet. Just from what I’ve heard from my bedroom, it sounds like OLB and Vulture are finally starting to step up on potty training, but it’s been an uphill fight. I know a few of my other parent friends have had an extremely hard time potty training their kid. I’m not a parent, so I don’t actually know how challenging it can be. I do know though that it shouldn’t sound like the toilet is some kind of punishment for peeing in her cloth panties that they’re trying to switch her to. Or, that they try to get her to sit on the toilet when she has no interest in it and she ends up throwing a tantrum. Unfortunately, without much context, that’s how some bathroom trips sound.
Kid wears pull-ups to bed and the cloth underwear during the day, or sometimes just pull-ups. They’re trying to teach her how to recognize when her body has the potty urge, which she still doesn’t quite get right now. She has literally peed on the tile floor through her cloth undies. Vulture messaged the house chat once saying, “Kid just lifted her leg while in the rolling chair and peed all over the floor.”
You know. Like a dog.
With the potty-training trouble and Kid only sometimes in pull-ups that can contain her mess, Z and I don’t let her into our room as often as we’d like to, because she doesn’t recognize when she has to go. It sucks, because Kid adores spending time with us and our room has cool animals, like my retired psychiatric service dog and our three ferrets. She loves the ferrets. But if we spend time out in the living room with everyone, Z’s patience tends to have a shorter fuse because they can’t stand Vulture (that’s also another tale I have). We’re also stuck out in the general mess of the living room if we are out there with her. It’s either the general mess that toddlers make, spilled food, and general filth. The best times we’ve had spending time with Kid is just chilling in our room as she ooh’s and ahh’s over the ferrets or watches TV with us. Z and I quote SpongeBob line by line daily, and she has watched some of the show with us.
I feel awful about shutting Kid out so much, when I see the way Vulture interacts with her. On Vulture’s bad days (if you read the previous post, that’s almost every day), she acts like Kid is a chore. She will snap at Kid, act like Kid is choosing to act out of maliciousness and make “tired mom” jokes that sound like she just flat out doesn’t like Kid. When I had liquor in the fridge, Vulture would ask if she could take a shot because, “I need it. She’s trying me today.”
Some choice quotes talking down about the kid:
“I’m being hard on her because she’s not using her words. Like I know she can. She just doesn’t want to.” This was what Vulture said to me after Kid kept trying to get her attention and wouldn’t explain what she wanted. Kid was just making noises at her and getting frustrated. Vulture full on shouted, “WHAT!” at her, then turned to me to try and explain why she shouted.
“This is the bad part about being a mom. She’s not letting me do anything right now.” This was said after Vulture cleaned her desk and was attempting to watch YouTube videos and play her Switch.
On her good days, Vulture will be that kind of smiling parent that does some art activities and engages with Kid in a way that’s more than just screaming. They color together. She offers Kid choices so Kid can have some control over what happens in her day, like, “Do you want bologna or fruit?” It has helped Kid become more vocal and even though she’s still speech delayed, she talks more and has a bigger vocabulary.
The house has a different atmosphere when OLB is home, compared to when Vulture is just watching Kid by herself. I’ve told OLB that I think Vulture is burned out. Her entire life is her disabilities and being a mom. She only has friends on Discord really, and OLB had to push her to start talking to them again just so she had someone to socialize with.
Old Doormat me pitied her at the beginning of our friendship. I tried being her friend. I tried to include her and Kid in a lot of things. My own mental health, my daily obligations, my gym schedule, and just me changing rapidly since 2020 altered my life, exhausted me, and left me unable to deal with Vulture talking a million miles a minute, info dumping about whatever she’s currently doing every single time I run into her. And as I shed my doormat self, I started seeing her clearly.
I told OLB once that if Vulture is truly burned out or if her health problems are causing that much trouble, Kid might need daycare or another caregiver to help. OLB is aware but can’t afford other care. He’s working for bottom of the barrel pay at a full-time job. Most days after work, he just wants to zone out to his own games in front of his computer but has to step in and parent both Vulture and Kid, because Vulture often needs help organizing through executive dysfunction to do something. Or, because she will call for his help.
There was one time where Kid climbed on top of her, and Vulture called for OLB – who was in the same room – to pull Kid off her. There are quite a few times where Vulture calls for OLB for help with Kid, and I’ve heard him say that he’s also busy too. One time he asked, “Why are you asking for my help when you’re closer?”
Z has offered to look after Kid at times because they don’t mind Kid being in our room or just hanging out. She has hung out with us when I also have the mental energy and the room is clean enough to accommodate a toddler crawling on everything. The problem that we both see is that our stepping in isn’t a full solution. She can spend a few hours with us, but ultimately after, she goes right back to Vulture and OLB. Vulture is the one who acts like being a parent is a chore.
There are times that OLB has snapped at Vulture for the way she gets on to Kid, emphasizing, “She’s just a child.” Their parenting styles are like looking at two entirely different planets and trying to find similarities. OLB is very much into the gentle parenting side of Tik Tok. He talks about breaking generational trauma. He’s usually gentle with Kid, explaining why she’s not allowed to do things like stand on top of her highchair or why I’m too busy to play with her as I’m zooming around the house in and out repeatedly some days. He has talked her down from meltdowns and keeps his voice even to where she can’t bounce off him to amplify her tantrums. He spanks her, but as a last resort, and then also talks to her about why the punishment happened. She will wail through everything and likely isn’t fully listening, but ultimately, I see him trying to work with her. He very rarely loses his actual temper with her.
Vulture is the total opposite. She yells at Kid, spanks with no hesitation and doesn’t explain why. One of Kid’s favorite games to play is “Block the door” when I’m trying to get through the house. She will block my bedroom door, cling to me, then circle around me as Vulture or OLB tries to distract her or lure her away by asking “do you want chocolate” or some other treat. Sometimes Kid just likes to play ring-around-the-rosie around my legs, as her parents try to grab her. I try to make it fun and seem like I’m not mad at her, because I’m never actually mad at her for blocking my way. Usually, I’m just in the middle of some arbitrary task or running an errand or coming back from the gym with my one remaining brain cell barely hanging on for dear life. I try to engage with her and play it off as a game because she’s not actually doing anything wrong.
Vulture has lured her away with chocolate and treats, with offers of food, with trying to get her to pick a show to watch. If that fails, she will come and fetch Kid by hand. One time involved yanking her physically off me and spanking her on the bare bottom because Kid was happy playing a game instead of listening.
The bare bottom is a thing, too. Because Kid used to live in soiled diapers for much longer than she was supposed to, she had constant diaper rash that she had to see the doctor for sometimes. She also didn’t want OLB or Vulture to change her diapers and would scream when it was diaper change time. I don’t blame her. The diaper rash hurt, and Vulture wasn’t exactly gentle with changing. Kid bled sometimes with the changings. So now, sometimes Kid will be dressed like Donald Duck in only a top to air out her bottom. Or because now, with the cloth undies, she will pee straight through them, and they just let her air out after.
Kid always smells a bit like pee. So does her room. And her bedding. After I pointed out that her bedding straight out of the dryer smelled like urine, OLB went about cleaning the washing machine with a machine cleaner, and bought scent beads to help cut the smell, after I told him that a little vinegar in the wash load will cut the smells down. Now her bedding doesn’t smell so much like urine, but it’s still there.
Her bedroom frequently smells like a public bathroom. It always looks like her bedroom has been turned upside down, with toys everywhere, her bed pushed to the middle of the room, the mattress on the floor. Books she was given were shredded, even the cardboard ones. There was straight up garbage left in her room because she was given food to eat there that had wrappers. It usually takes Vulture a full day of cleaning to get the room organized when she had the energy to do it, but she usually sanitizes with just a baby wipe, if she does at all. Maybe a pet cleaner sometimes.
There was one time where I was letting the dogs outside and I stepped in a puddle on the tile floor. That was when I realized that it was a pee puddle and Kid’s cloth underwear was dripping. I asked Vulture to clean the puddle up. When she asked to use my steam mop, she didn’t clean the cloth pad after, so when I turned the mop on next, it smelled like hot, steamed urine. I had to clean the mop pad off myself and rinse the pee out of it. When Kid again peed in front of the TV in her cloth undies, I told OLB that if they’re going to use my steam mop to make sure that the mop pad is rinsed off or it will smell like pee the next time it’s used, but he said he was just going to use his mop and bucket. Thankfully.
Because of the diet that OLB and Vulture has, Kid also eats like them. She gets a lot of macaroni, a lot of random odds and ends like pieces of bread, baggies of cheerios, sometimes fruit and vegetables. Lots of chicken nuggets and frozen instant food. Occasionally, Kid will have an interest in vegetables she sees us cook with or that she’s never had. Like once she insisted that she wanted to eat canned peas, until she tasted them. She chewed on a lettuce leaf and put it down, then asked for another one because she wanted to eat something, and it looked tasty to her.
The two halves of the household make separate foods now and keep out of each other’s food, but sometimes Vulture will give Kid some of the food I cooked because Kid saw my spaghetti noodles in a bowl and insisted on having them by way of tantrum. Instead of asking me if it’s okay (which obviously, I’d say yes, Kid can have some), Vulture just gave her my food and then told me after. Maybe I’m just projecting my own frustration, but it feels like Vulture uses Kid as a shield sometimes, to get food. Unless I have a specific purpose for food like what I put in my meal prep containers, I wouldn’t say no to Kid.
Kid’s diet makes me worried for her as she grows up. OLB is big and tall, over 6 feet tall and over 300lbs. They aren’t an active family at all. Kid drinks soda when they get fast food. She eats as much processed food as Vulture. Right now, she’s growing like a weed and is tall and actually has some power in her tiny limbs, which is most noticeable when she climbs you like a ladder, but her parents are gamers that just sit around. Her own screen time is almost as lengthy as theirs is.
I worry about Kid, constantly. Z does too. We have theorized calling CPS, or trying to adopt her, or just getting her away from Vulture. We have thrown around ideas about talking to OLB and convincing him that Vulture isn’t a good person for Kid. A lot of it has stayed in theory because the anxious part of me is still afraid to make life-altering waves like that. I second-guess and gaslight myself into realizing how bad things are, but then telling myself, maybe I’m just blowing it out of proportion. Maybe it's just something they have to handle. Maybe it’s something a first-time parent needs to learn. Maybe Vulture just isn’t feeling good that day. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
It’s a leftover of the doormat I used to be, and I know that. The tiny fragment of anxiety that tells me I’m blowing things up into too big a deal. The tiny fragment that escaped a toxic marriage and just wants peace after arguing every single day. The side that hates confrontation.
Maybe I’m just a plain ol’ coward. I don’t know yet. I just know my patience is running thinner with every passing day.
I don’t think I could convince OLB to dump Vulture. From what I’ve seen on the surface, they’re not openly affectionate. Vulture complains all the time that OLB doesn’t give her any physical affection, and she (unfortunately) tells me when they’re intimate, which doesn’t sound often. They almost look like they could be friends that are co-parenting. She calls him her husband when they’re out in public, and OLB has stated that he doesn’t want anything to happen to her, because he doesn’t want a single parent. I assume at the very least that he does love her, even though he sounds exhausted all the time. Z and I wonder if maybe he feels trapped.
OLB is good at asking for help if he needs it, although he hates being a burden to others. He will speak up if Vulture needs a ride to a doctor’s office, and he forgot to leave the car seat at home. I’ve driven to his work to pick it up after he messaged me asking if I could. They ask his family to babysit Kid if they want to go out and just have a good date or see a movie together. They are clearly capable of asking for help.
This is just an acceptable standard for both, or at least that’s the way it seems to me. Sometimes, I don’t truly know if OLB is aware of what Vulture does while he’s at work. He didn’t know that she used his 11-year-old dog as a vacuum cleaner to clean up spilled table scraps until I pointed it out and then he pieced together why his dog wasn’t losing weight on a reduced kibble diet. Sometimes I have pointed out things to him that he might not notice in the house chat.
I started keeping a log in Google Docs about things I notice, and Z and I talk about it in discord, so it’s not heard by ears that are too close to our bedroom. The log started helping me see that I’m not just blowing out of proportion and that in turn helped me come here to reddit. As a former doormat in recovery, I still have to tell myself that it’s okay to realize that something is wrong, and that I may need help getting my voice to speak up.
I haven’t worked since 2017, when my mental health took a sharp nosedive. Z is currently looking for work. Both of us are home all day exposed to Vulture and how she treats Kid. With my own daily tasks, errands, struggling with mental health, there’s still a side of me that berates me that I need to be taking care of Kid. Getting her up, making sure she eats. Pestering Vulture to get up. This is also where I tangle with the former doormat that still lives in me, because one, I don’t want to enable Vulture to get even worse. With someone taking the burden off of her, that gives her more free time to just sit back and game. It isn’t my job to make sure that Vulture is a good parent, yet somehow, I feel like it’s also my fault that she’s as bad as she is while I sit by the wayside and just talk about her behind her back. There are times where I have pestered OLB through discord about Kid crying, or how Kid is trying to beat the door down, or asking if Vulture is up for the day because I haven’t seen her up at three in the afternoon.
I started speaking up when I noticed something that’s off. I call this the “cheese incident.” We had a block of cheese that was cut in the wrapper and not in anything else, so the exposed end got all hard and inedible. I cut it off and threw it away. Vulture made her way into the kitchen because Kid saw me cutting cheese and wanted some.
Vulture: Who threw away that cheese?
(SHE PICKS IT UP OUT OF THE TRASH CAN)
Me: Yeah, it’s got that hard bit
Vulture: So? I know someone who will eat it.
(She calls Kid over)
Me: But it was in the trash.
Vulture: It’s okay, I cut off the part that was touching the trash.
Me: Dude, that’s fucked up.
Vulture: (hesitating now) Should I not?
Me: That’s probably going to make her sick again.
(Kid has been sick back-to-back at this point)
Vulture: Okay, then I won’t.
(To this day, I don’t know if she threw the cheese away or ate it herself, and I’m afraid to ask)
That was the point where I started pointing out that what she’s doing is problematic. It’s a slow process, but it’s helped me put the doormat side of me away again. I’ve explained to Vulture that Kid isn’t crying to be malicious, she just can’t express what she wants. Especially with Kid’s speech delay! Kid gets frustrated fast when adults don’t understand her, and the wailing begins. There’s no maliciousness behind it, just frustration. Or how Kid doesn’t like being told “no” because she doesn’t always understand why. Strangely, every time I call something out, she doesn’t really have much of a fight against it.
But why am I having to say it in the first place?
There’s little things that just rub me the wrong way in how they interact. Sometimes Vulture will call Kid over in the same way you’d call a dog. Repeatedly. Sometimes Vulture, in a state of migraine or other illness-related grouchiness will scream at her “Leave me alone!” and OLB will have to fetch Kid. One time, Z told me that Vulture outright mocked her crying by making her own crying noise.
What’s awful to watch in person is that when Vulture’s mom or siblings are over, Vulture is suddenly a doting mom who isn’t perpetually exhausted or loudly complaining about how her “everything” hurts. She talks in an overly sweet voice to Kid. It unsettles me with how two-faced it seems. OLB, Vulture, and Kid go have dinner with OLB’s family every Sunday evening, and I can’t help but wonder how two-faced she is there, as well. Some of OLB’s family doesn’t like Vulture to begin with.
Slowly, I am losing patience at how Vulture behaves, especially with the Kid. I had to un-gaslight myself, start logging her behavior, and talk to other people to really see it for what it was. I told multiple friends about it and we all generally have the same consensus that Vulture is just an unfit parent. If her chronic illnesses are truly interfering with her life that much, she shouldn’t be the majority caregiver through the day. But it’s not like OLB would be able to work from home or be the stay-at-home parent. In a perfect world, I would be able to help more as well, but I’m barely the “fun” aunt. I’m barely equipped to help care for a three-year-old. Hell, most days I’m barely an actual person.
Kid deserves better.
Bottom line, Kid deserves better than what this house can give. I am upset with myself over my lack of action, but the logs have only been growing bigger. Every day, the doormat dies a little more.
Vulture herself though, will likely always be a side show. One thing that Z pointed out to me was that, as the doormat I used to be, I would give everything to help someone even when I was mentally exhausted. I enmeshed myself too much into the lives of my friends because I loved making them happy and making their lives easier. It’s gotten me into some awkward territory with Vulture, because some things were interpreted as more than friendship.
You ready to cringe more? Because the next part is going to deal with polyamory, the desire for open relationships, and the main reason why Z despises her – and that’s putting it mildly.
Take a moment to un-cringe yourself. It ain’t over yet.

I have a unique situation. A few years ago at the age of 30 I met my biological father. I moved across country from Michigan to Arizona to help him with his business and lived on the same property as him. Everything was going really good for about a year and a half until I started noticing someone was coming in my house and I started to put things together. I didn’t know anything about crafting or black magic or cults or anything like that before this but I came into my house one day and noticed the grate at the bottom of my fridge wasn’t on properly so when I went to put it on the right way and it fell off completely I noticed there was a thick layer of dust but there was very fresh drawings and markings written in the dust. I asked a friend if it was Mexican gang shit not knowing what was going on lol he immediately told me it was black magic and said someone was messing with my food. Its a really story to have to text but I’ll list some other things that happened and I’d like to know if anyone has any insight . I’ve done a lot of research since then and still can’t figure out what the intentions were. So for starters it was a little town about 30 minutes from the Mexican border south of Tucson . My “dad” had several people my age working for him and I believe now they were all in on whatever they were doing to me. At first I thought he wasn’t a part of it and his workers just wanted me gone but I’ll explain why I know he was definitely in on it. Some of the things I noticed are
-They used a wood burner tool or engraved symbols and faces and letters into basically everything wood in my house and around the property like on wood posts and stuff. The letters would be large and stand out by theirselves it would be L,B, and I think R. - would make a almost evil smiley face and I would take my pants off at night and lay them in my bed and noticed the face on my ass in gel pen. They were putting it on my chairs. - switched a black and white candle with one of their own. -the wiring under my fridge was in Arabic or reverse Arabic so I think -under my front porch I found a canoe made out of a large dead frog body. It looked like it was to resemble a boat at least -also under porch found a cutout or some type of homemade rabbit made out of plastic or paper and it had half of one of those plastic Easter eggs in its mouth like a rabbit eating it’s own child or egg or whatever . -dead cat in my car - dead cat in my house - I always slept on my couch but on my bed I noticed a very thin layer of candle wax had been poured on every crease in the mattress . If you look at a mattress you’ll know that had to take a lot of time and effort. -my dad insisted we didn’t need tack strips when we laid the carpet in the trailer and in the room I later found a blue steel razor blade and next to it the word MAD in pen or marker. -the only friend that kept assuring me I wasn’t crazy had a nice 2020 truck and text me one day and said there was blood all over his back seat . I doubt he did that to his nice truck . It looked like a murder scene and when I saw it I noticed the same markings and faces on the car seat and doors . Looked like it was with a pencil eraser . - there was a panel loose in my jeep by my left foot where a hood release is . I pulled it back a little and saw something . When I loosened the panel even more it was a Lego figure and his head rolled off . I know I didn’t put that there lol. - different color dirt than usual and pebbles under carpet in front of door and rubbed all over my jeep tire. Probably cemetery dirt I think .
There’s more but you get the picture. So also in my Jeep I had a tool box and in every drawer there was 6 small twigs in the shape of a U or 6 pieces of plants or flowers. On the outside the drew a few things but one was a stick figure being attacked by wolves . When I came back to Michigan I was attacked by two dogs and had to get 69 stitches . The wound and scar is in the shape of a weird smiley face.
I refused to drive the Jeep and had a rental car and some how fell asleep and was in a head on collision with a family of 5 . Everyone was okay some how. I was going 60 and didn’t have a seatbelt on . Woke up in the passenger seat and the door just opened up for me to get out. Not knowing anyone else I called father of the year to come get me. When we got in his truck he said oh if you were in your Jeep you would have died for sure.
We get back to the house and he wanted me to stay there instead of sleeping at my place next door. He had a 80 inch tv that was turned off so it was basically like a mirror. I’m watching him and his gf lay a mattress on the floor and putting sheets and blankets on it then I see his gf pull something out of a clothes hamper . I can’t even make this shit up . I saw a 2 foot doll wearing one of my shirts. And had strews all over the head . Attached to the screws was some type of string to resemble hair with ties or bows half way down the length . I know they were screws because he twisted a couple of them . Then he put it in a type of dresser thing with a glass door and rolled a rolling closet with clothes in front of it . I could have shit my pants . That was the last time I was there. I immediately told him I had to get my son something from Walmart and needed to go now so I can send it first thing in the morning. He took me to Walmart and I ordered a Uber . He was right next to me and wouldn’t leave my side so I made up the only thing I thought of and said I think his phone was making me sick , something about electronics and said give me 5 feet and walked outside. I get in the Uber and he almost didn’t see me but came up to the car hands cupped around his eyes looking in the windows and saw me. He told the driver I was mentally unstable, on drugs and if he left with me he’s calling the cops. I told the guy I just met this man that’s my dad,showed him my license and explained I ordered the ride I offered him more money and asked him to please go. He said he didn’t want any trouble and cancelled the ride. So now I’m outside of Walmart with the crazy person I call dad and he’s like wtf man you’re just gonna bail on me lol. So I just told him I saw the voodoo doll. He started going nuts denying it and making a huge scene. He never did admit it but he said whatever I think he was doing he was trying to help me. I called the kid Colton they had the blood in his truck and he came and got me.
After 4 years I still don’t know exactly what was going on. If anyone knows what might have been going on I’d like some opinions. Do you think they were trying to sacrifice me or initiate me or what?
One of his workers did drop hints or warnings when I would bing stuff up. He told me “your dad doesn’t work me alit around Christmas time” I was like uh ok and said yeah it’s orders from higher up . Then told me there was like 5 or 6 satanic cults right around there. I’ve came to find out he was telling the truth more than likely.
Thanks for reading. Love and light