Hope springs vet virginia beach

Chapter LXXXIV
Somewhere, West Virginia, USA.
"Oaf! You couldn't have stated it in a less vulgar manner?!" The head butler snapped up at the Colonel.
"If you had just gotten to the point I wouldn't have!" The Colonel snapped back. The two goblinoids glared at one another as Morty choked on his drink.
"Wha *cough\* what was it you *wheeze\* wanted again?!" Morty tried to speak as he coughed up burning liquor from his lungs.
The Colonel turned away from the head butler with a snarl before looked at Morty.
"As I said. I desire to mate."
Morty caught a breath and spoke.
"Yeah I got that much! Look, I know it's a common trope to be a little curious and experiment when you go to college or uni. But I wasn't one of those types... Though Archie from Chem DID brush up against me once and I wasn't ENTIRELY against it-"
The Colonel looked red and aghast.
"N-n-n-no General! I didn't mean with you!"
The head butler snickered.
"Maybe if you had pointed that out before-"
"And maybe if you hadn't wasted so many words-"
"SHUT UP!!!" Morty snapped.
The two goblinoids ceased speaking, though they continued to glare at one another. Morty sighed as he collected his thoughts. The sisters trying, and failing, to hold in their laughter didn't help.
"So... YOU desire to HAVE A mate?"
The Colonel nodded. Morty pointed to the head butler.
"And you want the same I presume?"
The head butler just shrugged his shoulders.
"Not me personally no, Master. However, many of the staff, as well as other intellectually minded goblins, have been feeling new needs and wants. I have no doubt that those same feelings are what have affected the Colonel here as well as the Red Caps."
"So you both have been getting the itch? If so then what does that mean for our future workforce?" Morty asked.
Both goblinoids shuffled uncomfortably. It was the Colonel that spoke first though.
"The training of new Red Caps has had... decreasing results as of late General."
"As has the serving staff, and those that have higher intellectual capacity. The number of us able to become as advanced as we are is decreasing with every spawn. Where the number of us that have grown certain organs has risen. I'm sure you can link the two."
"You'll no longer be able to just spawn and train others anymore. You're going to have to do it the old fashioned way." Morty stated. He assumed as much when he first saw the female goblin maid. But now this just confirms it. But something was still worrying him.
"What about the other goblins? Or the dragues?"
"They remain the same. They haven't the mental capacity nor proper conditioning to advance biologically as we. They are still the same goblins they were many weeks ago." The head butler stated, with the Colonel agreeing with an affirmative grunt.
That's one problem he didn't have to deal with, Morty thought. His Goblin Wave tactic could still work then. Though his already limited number of Red Caps just got more limited. Though they've been fortunate that their deaths were pretty rare, only a handful have died since they first "ascended".
Same could be said for the smart goblins/house goblins. He should really come up with a proper name for them one of these days. Fatalities were practically non-existent among them!
Though that probably also has to do with their new "tools" and mental conditioning rewiring their brain chemistry. Can't be so quick to death and violence when you can't just pop out of a mint green puddle.
"Then it's not a complete change of plans, we'll just have to be extra careful when it comes to your assignments. But first, what was this about wanting a mate?"
The Colonel's tannish colored skin turned a reddish hue as the topic returned to his personal request turned faux pas.
"Yes, uhm. As I mentioned-"
"Poorly." The head butler pointed out.
"AS I MENTIONED, I desire a mate and am currently courting a young woman in town, and I desire that should the time come. That I may be allowed to engage in..." The Colonel paused as his face turned redder.
"Coitus? Sexual Intercourse? Baby Making? Fucking?" Morty asked with a creeping smile, each word turning the Colonel redder and redder until his face was more red than tan.
"Y-y-y-yes General."
Morty stared at the Colonel for an uncomfortably long moment. After feeling he embarrassed him enough, Morty spoke.
"Sure have at it."
The Colonel looked both relieved and shocked.
"Truly, General?!"
"Sure! Who am I to get in-between true love! Go have fun you crazy kids! And don't do anything I wouldn't!" Morty replied glibly.
The Colonel eagerly saluted Morty and fumbled a few more words of thanks before turning away and leaving Morty alone with the head butler, and the two sisters who still waited outside the room.
"So now what Jeeves?" Morty asked.
"Well Master. That was all that was both of note and pressing to inform you about." The goblin head butler, now dubbed Jeeves, stated.
"If that's all then, get back to work." Morty dismissed Jeeves with a wave of his hand as he turned to focus on paperwork.
Jeeves bowed and left. Leaving Morty alone to go over finances and logistics for when his mining, foresting, and masonry gets up and running. He was debating on if he should send the resources into town and get them worked on, thus giving the town a boost in greatly needed income. Or to keep it in-house.
Sure the former would be great for the town that he wished to control. BUT the latter was ALREADY in his control. Not only that but the current population of Somewhere weren't exactly loyal to him. The goblins on the other hand were.
The Noble Goblins, that could work, were actually pretty good tinkerers. He could get them to work the iron, lead and stone themselves. With the confirmation that they can now breed like normal creatures, he could start having them making babies with the locals! The Red Caps seem to already be doing that. But he could also send some pretty little maid goblins to start intermingling with the local population!
It would tie the locals closer to him by blood, sorta, and the future generations would be loyal to him! Then again this is all assuming that a goblin and a human can have kids. If not, then he could just outright repopulate the town with Noble Goblins and Red Caps. With their eagerness for violence lessened they would make a decent general population to rule over. Hell, he does it already.
Well, he had time. All he had to do was wait for nature, and biology, to take its course and he'll have confirmation in a few weeks, or months. Then he can go from there.
Though that thought process got him thinking about something else.
"Orga. Urga. Can you get pregnant from me?"
The two sisters looked at one another then back at Morty and shrugged their thick shoulders.
"We don't know. We never mated with a human before."
"What about other ogre tribes?"
"We haven't heard anything from anywhere else either."
"Well, if you can. How, or when, will you know?"
"We'll know." Was the infuriatingly simple answer.
"What do you mean you'll know?"
"We'll know if we are or if we aren't." Orga stated to which her sister nodded.
"That's not helpful."
"Like we said. We never mated with a human before. We don't know if or when any more than you do."
That actually made him nervous. He had kinda been shoving it to the back of his mind for some time now. But now the idea was front and center. There was a possibility that he'll be a father now. He was careful before with other women he brought home. Probably for the same reason that his father probably resented him for.
Morty got bits and pieces over the years. He assumed that the reason his father hated him was because when his mother, and soon himself, came along. His grandfather forced him to "man up" and become a family man. No more parties and boozy evenings, no more string of ladies of the night following him along to his bed to take his money, among other things.
That all, mostly, stopped when he married. His grandfather put the boot down. Either he would settle down and become a proper family man befitting the Duval name, or he wouldn't see a penny ever again.
So that's what his father did. He married and Morty came into the world soon after, and hated and resented him, his mother, and grandfather since. The anger and resentment bled into the staff. They held their tongues when in the presence of his grandfather, but when his mother passed and he got sick they made no secret how little they thought of both him and his mother. She was an opportunistic whore that snagged a higher class family scion, and he was the offspring that just barely avoided being born out of wedlock.
Now the idea that he was possibly in the same situation as his father was years ago came to his mind. Only this time, he didn't have HIS father around to browbeat him into being a decent dad.
Morty might be a lot of things, but there was one thing he would be hellbent on being. A better father than his own. He smiled at the thought of seeing his kids running and screaming through the halls. Then that smile faded. If they were even half as big as their mothers they were going to need some heavy-duty diapers!
-----
As night neared, the Colonel marched briskly towards the pawnshop. His uniform was freshly pressed and his boots were shined. They were always shined but he made sure they sparkled a little more for tonight.
He slowed as he neared the door to the shop. He took a moment to calm himself and make sure he looked presentable for the evening. Once done, he went to enter the shop. Only to find it locked up and closed. Being informed by one of the guards nearby, he ascended the stairs to Molly's apartment above her shop.
Once there, he knocked on the sturdy metal door. He heard a muffled call from inside answer. A moment later it opened to reveal the pawnbroker. She wasn't wearing the prom dress from the night before. Instead, she wore some comfortable jeans and a thick coat and hat to ward off the chill of the night.
"Sorry! I forgot the time!"
"I-i-i-it's quite alright! I would've waited longer if I had to." The Colonel said with a pinch of nerves in his voice.
Her face blushed a little.
"Well, aren't you a gentlemen! Would you have waited all night, even if it meant that you might've been stood up?"
He nodded.
"Even if it meant waiting here for days or even weeks, I would have done so without a second thought!"
"Aw! It's words like that that'll make a girl swoon! But that's for later when we're not near a set of stairs." She said and the Colonel led her down said stairs. Getting to the bottom and holding out a hand to help her off the last steps, as is proper.
Her smile reached her eyes at how far he was going to be a proper gentleman. A great improvement over her usual suiters. The two walked slowly along the lit streets. Just looking around at the town as it had changed over the few weeks. Some places were boarded up and vacated. Some looked more than a little run down because of the economic collapse the town was in.
The only decent part of town was closer to City Hall and the parts under Morty's control. Though Morty's part of town had more to do that they were well protected from the ferals that seemed to infest the town worse than rats or cockroaches!
Molly's heard that City Council put a freeze on bills for the time being. Can't be ruling a town that didn't exist anymore. So they decided and the Mayor, grudgingly, agreed to put a hold on bills until they could come up with a solution to the economic problems.
While they walked the Colonel was making an effort to distract her from the nearby signs of his men at work. He didn't think that her seeing a feral goblin getting its brains bashed in would be very romantic, nor proper for a woman like her to witness.
Though it was hard as even though he tried to talk a bit louder, the cries and sickening crunches still bled out into the night air. If she noticed, she didn't say anything.
The Colonel could only hope that it didn't put a damper on the mood. Though from her smile he didn't think it did. But he still led her to the less active parts. They would greet goblins on patrol, and they even spotted a couple of other Red Caps that had similar ideas and were either on walks of their own with their chosen dates or were dining with them in one of the local establishments.
Eventually their walk came to an end though. It was getting late and the Colonel didn't want to keep the young woman out too late. She turned around and faced him with a bright smile.
"I had a lovely evenin'! Thank you for the nightly stroll!"
"It was my pleasure to do so!"
"How about next time you come over and stay for dinner? My treat?" She asked a little nervously.
"I would enjoy that. Though it would be more proper for I to treat you."
"It may be more proper, but just wait until you try my tuna casserole!"
The Colonel chuckled and assented. She bit her lip a little before kissing the Colonel. It was a long, romantic kiss. One that he returned with eagerness and that ended with the two parting a little out of breath. Both more than a little red from the exchange. She smiled and went into her apartment while the Colonel marched back to the manor with a smile of his own on his face.
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Hi guys. Recently, Roblox Corporation has implemented an anticheat. Due to this, Synapse X has been down for almost a month and my life is ruined. I cry every day for many hours. My mommy says that if I keep crying, I'll run out of water in my body. Little does she know I sneak a mountain dew or two every now and then. This has resulted in my tears becoming green. Mommy also says I should take a shower, but the vast amounts of sweat I release when I get out of my chair is enough to clean me off. Daddy says that if he put me on a deserted island, I'd live for 10 years without starving. When I send my picture in channels on discord, people say I look like "nikocado avocado". I don't know who that is, but I know he's a YouTuber. I think he's an exploiter and Synapse X like me. Anyways, my back has been locked into a "C" shape. Mommy and daddy say this is because "you're hunched over in that chair all day every day" but I don't think this is the case. They just don't understand me. They don't understand that David Bazooka ruined my life. My shit bucket has almost filled up, so I must go dump it out soon. It will be a real workout walking across the house, but I am confident. My mommy recently brought me a PB&J sandwich. I cried because the jelly was red, and it reminded me of the Synapse X logo. She brought me a water bottle and I cried even harder because the label said "Poland Spring" and the capital S reminded me of Synapse X. I told her to never traumatize me like that again. I am crying while typing this out. My Roblox girlfriend has unfriended me out of nowhere and I don't know why. That didn't help at all. I think she just liked me because I was using scripts I got from linkvertise to hack in pets in pet simulator x for her, and now that I can't she unfriended me. I will now go cry for another hour. Hi guys so I'm back from crying. My head hurts. I stood up to go to dump out my shit bucket. I can't see my legs but I can sure feel them. I am so thirsty, all of the sweat I excreted during my journey make me lose all my water. My arms, head, legs, heart, lungs, and stomach hurt. I ache for Synapse X's return. With it, my life was complete. But now, David bazooka has torn me apart. I am going to cry myself to sleep and then i will attempt to go outside. My successful journey across the house has given me the confidence to try to go outside. I will come back when I am done sleeping. Hi guys So I am done with my nap and now I will journey outside. I will keep you updated. Hey guys so I went outside and now I am crying. The good thing is, my mommy and daddy were in their bedroom, clapping me on when I was walking through the door. My skin hurt after I went outside for 10 seconds and it's red now. The ground was green and it reminded me of the Synapse X logo. My red skin also reminded me of it, and my Roblox girlfriend, and the times we hung out in CnP hangout... I am crying so hard. Synapse X is love, Synapse X is life. I will never download any other executor. Synapse X is on top. I tried to post this in the discord but I realized it was deleted as well. Just like my will to live without Synapse. My favorite game to exploit in was arsenal. I liked the name: "arse"nal. I don't know what arse means, but my mommy says I should wash mine. Since byfron released, I have spent most of my days staring at the subreddit, refreshing, hoping for any "Synapse V3 released" post. I don't care how much it will cost me. If I could see them, I'd sell my balls for Synapse X. I'd sell them and my soul. I'd sell every non-vital organ for Synapse X. I love Synapse X that much. I will keep you guys updated

I'm not even where to start, this is long I apologize in advance for errors, I'm on mobile...
Please bare with me as I have multiple chronic illnesses which cause my brain to be mushy 200% of the time... But I'll try to be as detailed as possible, I don't want to give too much away as this is a very serious issue and could get my husband in some serious trouble. Which he deserves to be in, BUT I'm currently waiting on a decision from social security disability so his full time employment means we have a home, food to eat and food for my 3 fur babies. He is supporting me and I do not have anything to fall back on in terms of support so I'm stuck still living with my husband.
The backstory: we've been together for almost ten years now, married for about 3. I have multiple slow progression painful chronic illnesses, I've been sick my whole life and he's taken on a huge responsibility being my partner... And I thought he accepted me for who I am not what I can offer. Mind you I'm not completely disabled, I'm able to do light housework, make his lunch for work, care for our pets and make simple dinners daily... So from chronic illness standards I'm doing pretty well for how progressed they are. Multiple of my illnesses causes severe pain so I take high dose pain meds to regulate myself on top of getting regular epidural steroid injections and ablations of the nerves in my spinal column to be able to walk. Back to the story, about 3 years into our relationship, the first time I noticed my meds were going missing I was on a low dose pain med called tramadol, he lied but eventually admitted to taking "a few". We moved forward but I had to hide my medication. The second time, fast forward a few years and we had moved into our new house. At this point I was taking lower dose Norco, but I was noticing I was light when I shouldn't have been. Confrontation again and I got a lock box. Third time I was spring cleaning and I found an empty checkbook full of my USED fentanyl patches, I had started using those due to not being able to keep my meds down completely. He had shaken them out of my sharps container then stored them away... Still not sure what he was going to do with them, it's basically skin cells by the time I take it off. I was ready to leave at this time but my parents had just moved 2 and a half hours away in a two bedroom small home. I had/have no where to go and no money to use to do anything about it... Things seemed fine for a couple years. The lock box was protecting my meds and things seemed ok... But I was still weary... Unfortunately my room in which I stored my lockbox got really cluttered due to many reasons so it became hard to use. Another part of me wanted to trust my husband. Stupid me, right?
Well to break down my dosage - I am prescribed a medium dose Norco 4x a day. Usually I only take 2-3 depending on pain and ration the rest in case of med shortage. But I was noticing my extra earrings were not as abundant as they should have been but I thought maybe I was taking a bit extra that month since it was winter. Due to recent medication shortages, my dose was increased but for 3x a day. Which I downgraded my dose to 2x a day to make sure I had extra as my pharmacy warned me they still can't get any in.
Come to the other day and I open my bottle to notice I only had a small handful... So I emptied the bottle and counted, i only had enough to take 2 a day for the next three days leaving me not only 3 Norco short for those days, but three days worth was completely gone... My heart sank because I knew what happened... I confronted my husband who lied about it at first but I asked him again and he finally admitted to taking "a few". I screamed at him for awhile before telling him to get out of my face and go to work, so he left. Sitting there I calculated not only did he steal about a months worth (1 a day) for May but he had to of stolen another two months worth during the previous months my meds weren't in the lock box... A MINIMUM of 90 Norco was taken from me when I absolutely needed them.
I wanted to file a police report that morning but was stopped by my mom who reminded me that I'm currently depending on him to survive. Only when social security goes through do I have any options of leaving... I currently pay about $315 a month on a student loan I'm not even able to use. It's not for not trying, I started working at the age of 14 but had to stop in 2020 due to multiple flare ups ending me up at 93 pounds plus in and out of the hospital on the regular.
Current situation, it's been 5 days, I asked him if he had anything to say to me at all, he said no. He still says I love you and tries to kiss me... I lean away in disgust... I'm disgusted with his audacity to take the medication that helps me be a person. I'm disgusted with myself that I do still love him but all feelings have been burned from his actions. It's obvious he has no respect for me and I'm not even sure if he married me because he loves me or if he just thought he'd have easy access to my medications for the rest of his life... Well my life. I feel obligated to continue my "wifely duties" such as making his lunch, picking up the house to the best of my abilities, make us dinner at night as he is the only one on the house so it's his, he's letting me stay despite my cold demeanor... Kinda keep the peace until I can figure a way out... It's selfish but so is he.
I do not have money to move on my own and I have to take my two large dogs and cat with me as he will neglect them, not intentionally, he has ADHD so he just forgets things. I absolutely refuse to leave my pets, they are top priority to me. My parents said I could come up there but that means every doctors appointment I'm driving 5 hours both ways... And I have 5-7 a month. My best friend is in another state, my other bestie has 4 kids a husband and allergic to animals, 3rd friend lives with her aunt and uncle. I could crash at my brother's for a few days but not any longer... And my neighbor can't house my animals... That is my list of people, I have nobody else... Though who would want to roommate with someone who can't pay rent but can contribute to groceries, cook and light cleaning...
I'm not even sure why I'm posting... I'm very lost and confused. I've officially taken off my wedding band, I know I should file a report but he could lose his job which means he loses insurance meaning I lose insurance... I should leave him but I have nowhere to go... I told him the only way I'd even consider working on our relationship again is if he goes to therapy or rehab but he's said he'd go on the past just to not go or go once then never again... his catch phrase is "I'm sorry, I'll do better"
My only plan I can think of is wait for social security to hopefully approve me then I can get my student loan waved, then I can look into low income apartments or housing... But who knows how long that's going to take, it's been in reconsideration since October of last year (22).
I'm gonna go potato now... Any helpful advice would be magical. Thank you

Hi guys,
I will be attending a Japanese language institution next January.
This will be somewhat a two-part question about vetting language schools and best cities to study in. I know the last one is more personal preference but id love to hear your guy's experiences about all of it. And possibly what I should be looking for in terms of i picking a school. (I am using gogonihon and KOKO Japan to help me look).
The areas I am looking to live in are Kyoto, Sapporo, Tokyo or Osaka. My only experience with Japan was a 10 day trip in Tokyo. So im not sure I really got a feel for Japan.
​
1: I would like to have stuff to do at night and places to go but I feel Tokyo is a little too big for my liking. Though I would happily give it a try. I am also open to other options. Anyone have an opinion on this?
2: In terms of schools are there any ones you recommend or would stay away from? Gogo Nihon and KOKO Japan provide a good amount of schools/companies in each area (Like ISI, ARC, ECC, and others) so was hoping to get some feedback from people who have possibly attended them or know anything about them.
Hopefully this made sense and doesn't feel like a ramble. I am happy for any insight into your previous or ongoing experiences.
:D

Well, I guess I should start at the beginning the majority of all stories tend to start. I was born in Detroit, Michigan in the month of June 1977. I was soon adopted and never met my biological family but have been told that I have two biological sisters, Karen, and Xinea as well as two brothers named Robert, and Jerry(perhaps Gerry I suppose). My mother is Patricia Bray, and my alleged father is Carl Ambers according to the adoption records that I found after the death of my adopted mother, Opal in 2001; I was a grown man by then. I was adopted by Opal and Frank Smith(we will say) in 1978. Somehow they knew my biological mother but that connection was never revelled to me. Opal was one of 17 children who grew up on a mountain somewhere in West Virginia. I was told that her father killed himself in front of her and her siblings when she was less than 10 years old. He was a coal miner and was injured in some type of accident and left unable to work with 19 mouths to feed; hard to fathom but for the love of God why in front of the children? Regardless of his reason this event left a lasting impact upon his 9 year old daughter that would ripple throughout space and time with the force of an atomic bomb; to this day that act and subsequent reaction linger. Opal was a devout Pentecost, Southern Baptist, or whatever similar religion she felt; not exactly sure. She was once a member of the People's Temple church in the early days when they were in Indianapolis (circa 1953-54). She left the church when the new leader, a man by the name of Jim Jones took over and began to allow people of other races into the fellowship; Opal being a woman of God as well as a devout racist left the church. They would later commit forced suicide in Ghana by drinking cyanide laced drinks at the end of machine guns. Opal was a small woman and she had many older brothers. She spent her developmental years fatherless, emotionally wrecked, and on a mountain with those brothers; I do not wish to even imagine what that must have been like, but one thing is for certain; she grew up mean and she knew how to fight, how to hurt a person, and how to use her 4' 11" 120lbs to do damage. Her temper was short and she was fast to react in a violent physical nature. She was married to Frank who was from Kentucky. Frank ran a laundry delivery service, smoked cigars, and loved pro wrestling. He was already in his forties when I was adopted as was Opal. Frank was amazing to me as a young child but as time went on he became isolated and didn't much bother with anything other than work. Looking back it is obvious he was terribly unhappy but that is unfortunately the theme of this story. I also had three adopted sisters that we shall call Kay, Mary, and Carry. All of whom were already 10 and older once I was brought into the household. The six of us lived in a two bedroom single bath home on the south side of Indianapolis. My earliest memory is literally the day that they brought me to their house; you may think that is crazy, a child less than a year old having a vivid memory but I swear to you I do. I remember being brought into the kitchen and being placed into a high chair with a pack of saltines....then a bath and to bed. For the first few years it seemed that we had a happy, perfect family. Frank made good money and so Opal stayed home and managed the house while watching me. I remember how nice she was at first but that would soon change, everything changed. The early eighties were a rough time economically and it showed. The stress of life really brought out the mean in Opal, she would fly off the handle in a millisecond flat. I was a very advanced child for my age and by pre-school I could count to 1000, read children's books myself, and I knew all my shapes and colors beyond the standard "circle, square, blue, red". My adopted parents were not very well educated and I think they were taken aback by the rate at which I absorbed information. It could not possibly be that this child simply has a thirst for knowledge and an ability to process things; it must be DEMONS...yep, folks, demons. From the time I was maybe 3 until I stopped speaking to Opal circa 1999 I was repeatedly told that I was "FULL OF DEMONS" as well as the everpopular"YOU ARE GOING TO HELL FOR _________" Now you can add whatever you wish to that blank up there because she sure did. I was going to hell for running in the house, catching insects, not going to bed on time, throwing rocks, playing with sticks, you name it, and he'll was fucking terrifying. I was taken to churches where people preached that the devil was not among us , but inside of us all!!! and as I watched them shake and scream and yell it honestly scared the shit out of me. Being a developing child and being told you are possessed by creatures from hell may have a lasting mental effect. Like many kids I began to rebel against and since I was full of demons I began to act accordingly. Things in the household spiraled downward like a toy boat circling an open drain. Opal was becoming aloof and isolated, coming from her bedroom only to cuss, complain, and rage. After the first few times getting my ass or face slapped up I learned to shut my mouth but unfortunately my older adopted sister Mary never got that lesson. She was about early high school age when I was adopted but I do not remember either of my two oldest sisters going to school at all. She like rock music of the time, she didn't dress appropriately, she was loud, and she did not listen to anything she was told. She was a typical teen girl in the 80's until she snuck out one night and some men snuck PCP into her drink. She had a bad reaction and seized, they just dumped her from the car onto a cold, dark Indianapolis street corner in the middle of a ghetto where she lay until found. She was rushed to the hospital where she died and was revived many time; luckily she lived, but she had went without oxygen and it left her with some mental impairment. She never really progressed past a teen mentality. I do not know if it was shame at her sneaking out with men and being discovered or the lingering mental illness but Opal had a fire for her like no other. They once had a shouting match over what Mary was wearing and after a few minutes Opal picked up an old golf wedge club that I had found and began to beat her savagely. I counted at least 30 shots before I got the courage to jump in from of her; I was maybe 8 years old. The following years would show a pattern of such actions with all four of us occasionally getting it but Mary and myself got the brunt of things...there were hot off the stove spatulas to bare skin, broomsticks, rake handles, and even the cast iron skillet with hot oil still inside. My father, having been introduced to Opal's violent nature knew better than to intervene, choosing to withdraw all together of the situation. Left to free rein Opal never missed an opportunity to abuse physically, or verbally. I remember being perhaps 9-10 years old and being as my parernts were way older I dressed like I was from the 60's,. Opal had since went to work at a metal polishing factory and I was left to the daily care of three teenage, adopted sister with no clue about basic hygiene so I smelled terrible and the stress of my violent home life had put weight on me other kids fucked with me hardcore. I had had a terrible day at school; my pants had ripped and all the other kids were laughing and calling me fatass and such literally all day long. So I get home finally and I totally break down into hesterical crying fits to which my "mother" responds to be yelling "BOY!!....WHAT IS ALL THE NOISE ABOUT!!?!" and through tears and in broken English I struggled to explain the events of the day and how all the kids said I "stink and that my clothes were trash and that I was too fat!!" and her caring response was to look me dead in my eyes and yell to me "YOU ARE FAT AND I AM NOT BUYING YOU NEW CLOTHES UNTIL YOU LOSE SOME WEIGHT!!" This event would truly cast a demon of hatred and anger deep into my soul that I would struggle to shake for the next 20 or more years. The next day at school, on recess a group of slightly younger children began to gather around me and began the usual verbal and physical harassment. As they had a few days previous they were attempting to set me up for that trick where one person gets down in a dog-like pose behind you while you are distracted and once in place the other push you over and everyone has a grand old laugh at your expense while you struggle to get your fat ass off the ground and get your wind back but that day I was not playing that shit and so when the little fucker ducked down behind me I immediately swung around with my right foot and landed a vicious snap kick directly to his eye socket; the sound of it breaking echoed the playground followed by painful wailing. It felt good to hear, it felt good to see the fear in the eyes of his friend's eyes, to send a message that I was no longer their victim or anyone else's for that matter. I started skipping school, vandalizing, petty theft, shoplifting, and anything other than wholesome which got me arrested for stealing CD's and Transformers from K-Mart. L.L. Cool J.....funny the shit you value when you look in retrospect. The ride home from the juvenile center on East 21st street was a long one and I was petrified of the beating that awaited me as new and different ways and items to beat the fuck from me danced in my head like those fucking sugar-plums from that stupid Christmas Song. When we finally got back to our house in Fountain Square I was directed into the kitchen where a length of 2/4 about 2 foot long waited on the kitchen table. Opal from behind me yelled out "BOY!!" which was what I was always referenced as as if I had no fucking name and when I did a 180 she belted me across my face with a hard right fist, but unlike every other time she hit me I did not scream out, cry, or even flinch from the blow. This further infuriated her and so she struck my face again to the same result, and again, and again until I firmly grabbed her right wrist at which point she immediately hit me with a hard left and I subsequently grabbed her left wrist. I was about 175lbs if not more and my strength overpowered her ability to strike me and when she realized that she could not move and seen in my eyes that this was not going to happen she began to scream "LET GO OF ME!!" to which I replied "I am going to let you go and when I do you are not going to fucking touch me in any way!!"...I let go, and defeated she walked away. After that she offered no real support other than a place to sleep. I began to steal clothing from people's clotheslines and after wearing the same pair of shoes for so long that my feet are literally deformed, I took a pair of Nikes off of someone's porch. Over the next few years I would have many more legal troubles, assaults, thefts, arsons until the State of Indiana stepped in and made me a ward of the state. I was sentenced and sent to a place called Glen Mills Schools in Concordville, Pennsylvania. It was supposed to be a fresh start and a chance to better myself and I was able to get my HSE, learn computer aided drafting, and I got to compete in powerlifting as well. It was the first time in my life I had seen a dentist even; I was 15 years old and finally I felt hopeful and happy; that would soon change.
If you would like to hear more please leave a comment or like. I also appreciate any feedback about my writing as I am not a professional in any way but always looking to improve my craft. If you made it this far; you are greatly appreciated.

Going for a tubal ligation consult today. I’m a 31 yo woman, married with no kids. Not that it matters bc it’s my choice but husband also doesn’t want kids. I live in Colorado Springs which is a more conservative area of Colorado. I’m really nervous and hope they will do the procedure. Any advice/ tips/ things to say to help me out this afternoon at my appointment? Any advice welcome! :)

u/56Thorns x2
Thank you for 2 cards. Your mail is always very much appreciated. It has been many years since I was in Niagara Falls. Getting a post card was a happy reminder of the last time I was there. I bet the cherry blossoms at home were awesome this year. Hope that you have a great spring and summer.

Company Name	Title	City
Boys & Girls Club of Manhattan	Director of Operations	Manhattan
Kansas Hospital Management LLC	Social Worker	Arkansas City
City of Atchison	Street Sweeper Operator	Atchison
Valley Hope Association	Detox Nurse	Atchison
Omega Senior Living	CMA - Lakepoint Augusta Skilled Nursing	Augusta
522 Ames St., Baldwin City, KS	Retail Sales Associate	Baldwin City
Catholic Care Center	CNA Second Shift	Bel Aire
Goodwill of Western MO & Eastern KS	Retail Production Associate	Bonner Springs
Bridgewood Cabinetry	Logistics Clerk	Chanute
Morris County Hospital	Day Shift Registered Nurse	Council Grove
Rock Regional Hospital, LLC	Admitting Representative Clerk	Derby
Clean Harbors	CDL-B Sales & Service Driver	Dodge City
Earp Distribution	Warehouse Order Selector	Edwardsville
SunOpta	Overhead/ Buyer Scheduler	Edwardsville
Alliance for Multispeciality Research, LLC	Receptionist	El Dorado
Dunham's Sports	General Manager	Emporia
Mfa Inc	Truck Driver - Emporia, KS	Emporia
WS Audiology Americas	Medical Front Office Coordinator - Emporia	Emporia
Eureka Nursing Center	Charge Nurse LPN	Eureka
5 Canyons Logistics, Inc.	CDL A Team Driver Fedex - Up to .80 CPM	Garden City
Community Health Center of Southeast Kansas Inc	Medical Assistant - Primary Care	Garnett
Pmg South Llc	Assistant Manager	Garnett
Orscheln Industries	Cashier	Goodland
Check into Cash of Kansas	Assistant Store Manager	Great Bend
OSL Retail Services Inc	Wireless Retail Sales Associate - US W0664	Hays

Hey guys, here are some recent job openings in ks. Feel free to comment here or send me a private message if you have any questions, I'm at the community's disposal! If you encounter any problems with any of these job openings please let me know that I will modify the table accordingly. Thanks!

As far as I can remember, the main character is an ordinary Japanese schoolboy and he goes to a typical private school! Also, he has a best friend who is the most popular in school, and as far as I can remember, some childhood friend, who loves him, but he does not seem to pay attention to it. Also, for some reason, he wants to make friends with some strange girl, they are also supposedly called tsundere? And yes! There seems to be a beach episode in that anime!!!
I hope I gave a clear description of the anime I'm looking for
And yes, an important announcement! As you can see, I used google translator to translate the text from my language into english! Therefore, there may be errors in the text, so excuse me for that...

My thanks for the comments on legacy weeks versus timeshare point weeks. The timeshare market has shifted with most of the larger timeshare companies now selling "a points package" usually from a trust that in turn owns the underlying timeshare occupancy rights. The question now arises which is best to own, a legacy week or a time share point week. The answer is that like so many timeshare questions, is that it depends. One cannot categorically state one is better than the other. For instance a legacy week may come with special benefits on occupancy and cost. I tend to use my legacy week to stay at the beach becasue it is less costly than if I used my time share points to stay at my resort for the same week. In another example, some legacy timeshares are bound by the "old timeshare rules" which means the opearating cost for one specific building may be lower than the weighted average cost of a large trust owning multiple properties. It can make sense to buy an old legacy week even if you never intend too occupy it becasue its trade value for points charging a lower maintenance fee. This could also backfire if a legacy week is charged an assessment while point weeks smooth out variations in operating cost over a larger portfoilio making operaing cost less like to spike. As a general rule if a timeshare owner is just looking to own a week or two, the points package is likely to be a smarter choice as it leaves the owner open to just select the time and place they want to go without having to first convert their week to points, which can cause point dilution. On the flip side as an owner gets more comfortable with managing fees on several weeks, a legacy week could be like an old painting, just waiting to be discovered by savvy timeshare owners becasue they recognize the value as either a rental or becasue it still gets you to "Hawaii" at a lower cost per day than its timeshare point counterpart. Cheers and I hope this helps answer some issues on legacy weeks.

Bonus chapter to celebrate 100 followers on Royal Road. Hopefully we're just getting started.
Previous Chapter - Read 10 weeks ahead on Patreon - Read the story so far on Royal Road
*
Chapter Twelve - The Blacksmith's Boy (Part One)
‘Lokk?’
Lokk glanced over his shoulder at the sound, frowning, and thought better of responding. Carel could manage without him a few moments longer.
‘Is someone calling you?’ The girl beside him asked, looking up at him with large eyes. Wanda, her name was, with a set of generous, pleasing dimples either side of a smiling mouth, freckled skin framed with a shock of crimson hair. His age. Maybe a year or so older. Who could tell? Who would care? Fifty men and women called Rindon home. Ten were close to his age. Four of them were women. Three of those weren’t his kin, and only one of those wasn’t already sick of the sight of him. Not yet, anyway.
‘Lokk?’ She asked him again, and he met her eye, brushing a strand of fair hair back from his brow.
‘They’ll wait.’ He told her, favouring her with a careless smile. ‘What were you saying? About your mother?’
‘Lokk!’ The call came again, louder this time, and accompanied by a loud clatter of pots through the kitchen door. He flinched, glancing up irritably. When he looked down again, Wanda was frowning, dimples dimpling into a polite, if apologetic, smile.
‘I… had best be going.’
‘Wait, Wanda, I...’ But she was already gone, hurrying off through the little maze of tables and chairs towards the Nest’s door. Lokk watched her go, not a little wistfully, ignoring a quiet smirk from one of the early arrivals. Then he sighed and went out through the door behind the bar, scowling.
The heat in the kitchen was thick with vapour. Steam poured out of a large pot hung swinging over the fire, steam that smelled of scavenged herbs and stale meat. Carel was standing beside it, stirring the contents with a ladle longer than her arm, pale hair tied back in a tight knot behind her head. On the counter beside her, the desiccated remains of a half-dozen different vegetables. The meat had left nothing behind.
‘What?’ He asked irritably, closing the door behind him.
‘What do you think?’ His sister replied, shooting him an irritable glance over her shoulder. ‘I don’t think me doing all the work whilst you drink our casks dry is what Da had in mind.’
‘I wasn’t just drinking.’ He told her. An apron was hanging up by the door, and he hung it sullenly over his shoulders, frowning. ‘Besides, you look like you were managing just fine without me.’
Carel snorted. ‘Someone had to.’
‘You’re much better at it than me, anyways.’ He added offhandedly, taking the ladle from her hands and sipping appreciatively from the little bowl of brownish broth. ‘Leave me to the casks. I’ll keep them company instead.’
‘I’m only better at it because Da taught me.’ Carel told him, scowling. ‘And he only taught me because he knew you’d be off trying to bed every girl in the village whenever his back’s turned. How is Maddy, by the way?’
‘Wanda.’ He corrected.
Carel snorted. ‘Anything that breathes, I suppose.’
Lokk gave her a hurt look. ‘Now, I’d hardly say anyth-‘
‘That’s actually my point.’ She interrupted him, snatching back the ladle. ‘You would say anything, if it got you what you wanted. Now make yourself useful and cut some bread.’
‘No need to be hurtful.’ He told her with a frown, going over to the counter and snatching up a knife. ‘Would be much simpler if I only had eyes for one someone. Not all of us have it so easy.’
He ducked just in time as part of a turnip crunched into the wall beside his head.
‘You’re right, I’m better off without your help!’ Carel told him, turning back to the pot. ‘Go back to your barrels.’
‘Thought you’d never ask.’ He shrugged the apron off his shoulders, and ducked through the door, just as another dismembered vegetable whistled past his ear.
Back in the common room, a few more of the villagers had assembled around one of the tables near the fire, making the early overtures of evening conversation around the edges of their ale mugs. Da had emerged from the Nest’s bowels, and was now skirting the table skilfully, fresh cask under arm. Lokk took his place behind the bar, doing his best to look busy. It was only then he noticed the other table. Further from the fire, this one. Quieter, too. Dark cloaks, dark faces. Lokk didn’t recognise them, and there wasn’t anyone in Rindon he didn’t know. As he watched, one of them looked up towards him with dark eyes, and he looked away, busying himself polishing a particularly stubborn mug.
‘You look busy.’
Da had appeared at his side, setting the cask down on the bar with a little sigh of effort. His rosy cheeks were rosier than ever, and his clothes smelt of pipe-smoke.
‘I am busy.’
‘I suppose your sister didn’t need your help?’ The innkeep smiled knowingly, taking his old pipe from a pocket in his shirt and rubbing it clean on his sleeve.
‘Said so herself.’
‘Course she did.’
‘I-’
‘Well, it was a fucking storm wasn’t it. Not every little shower gets farted out a wizard’s arse.’ Albin, the butcher, exclaimed from near the fire. Overtures done then. Time for an argument. Lokk might have smiled, had he not been so terribly bored by it all.
‘This is a long one. They’ll be here a while yet.’ Da told him thoughtfully, chewing idly at the nib of his pipe. He frowned. His Ma had hated that thing. But Ma was gone, and it wouldn’t do any good, thinking about her. ‘We’ll need another cask.’
‘Older the better?’
‘Oldest the best.’ The innkeep agreed, grinning at him.
Lokk nodded and turned towards the door, then hesitated.
‘I don’t know them folk.’ He said quietly, nodding towards the little group of dark figures sitting away from the fire. The innkeep caught his look and frowned.
‘Solen’s new hands. Lowlanders.’ He replied, tamping some weed into the end of his pipe with the end of his thumb. ‘Nosey bunch. He’s got a few more besides, I hears. Must be a busy season up at the mine.’
Lokk frowned. ‘Do mines have busy seasons?’
‘Damned if I know. Keep to ‘emselves, mostly, anyways. Been here best part of a month, I reckon. Had one of ‘em in here asking questions, few days back, nothing since.’ The innkeep stopped fiddling with his pipe for a moment, giving his son a sideways look. ‘Still, they pay their way. Up front. Which is more than I can say for most of this lot.’
Lokk stole one last look at the quiet table of strangers, then turned and went out through a side door and into the night beyond, leaving Da at the bar alone.
The cold air bit at his skin as he emerged into the dark, and he shivered, shrugging himself a little deeper into his shirt. Winter came quickly, this close to the Teeth, filling the rocks with the kind of deep, dark cold that lasted well into spring. Presently, a rumbling cloud of purpling rain was drawing in over the mountains, and the wind was picking up. Lokk shivered again, scowling. Just his luck to catch the rain.
He made his way around the side of the sloping roof of the inn, head low against the gathering whine of the wind. Another night, another cask. Another squabble over nothing by the fire. Another restless sleep, wrapped in cold blankets. Alone. Summer was bad enough, but winter in the foothills was slower than a monk in a brothel. The women, such as they were, stayed home, for the most part. Those that did make it to the Nest didn’t wait out the first mugs. Even Cal had stopped calling, this past month.
Overheard, a pale flash of light, followed by a distant rumble. Rain had started, somewhere off up the slopes. Lokk aimed another choice curse at no one in particular. No women, no friends. No money. It was a sorry state of affairs, if ever he’d seen one.
He reached the store and began fiddling with the lock with numb fingers, frowning. It was hardly Cal’s fault, he knew. That blacksmith was quite mad. Everyone knew it. Locked up in that old forge, hammering away, night and day. Lokk had seen him a few times. Fonder of glaring than talking. Wasn’t exactly afraid of him, but he certainly didn’t like him. Big tree of a man, arms thick as thighs, had to stoop to get through most doorways. And his eyes! Lokk shivered again. Felt like ice on your skin when he looked at you. Strays like Cal couldn’t be choosers, Lokk knew that well enough. But if he was him, he’d have run off years ago.
The latch finally gave, and he swung the door open with a triumphant snort. He felt his way along the row of casks closest to the door, where the older ones were, fumbling in the dark. Behind him, the thunder crashed against the side of the hills, vibrating through his boots, and he flinched in spite of himself. If that mad blacksmith was going to keep Cal locked up like some trained animal, he’d have to get by without him. Not like Cal was the best company, anyway, these days. Always had been a strange one, but pale eyes had started getting far too clever for his own good, recently. More full of secrets than a Westri merchant. Sometimes he wondered if Cal saw the world the rest of them did, or one entirely his own. And then there was the Carel problem.
His hand settled on the cask closest to the far wall, and he dragged it grumbling from its place, wedging it under one arm. No, he could hardly blame Cal for any of it. He was just bored. Still, better bored at the inn than locked up in that damn forge with the cracked old blacksmith and his scarred face. He snorted under his breath, shivering at the thought. They’d been talking about leaving for years now. Going west. Arinath, maybe, Uldoroth, even. Men could make a good living in the white stones, so they’d heard. Makers knew they couldn’t stay here forever. Run the inn? Take up mining? No, they wouldn’t be here, forever. Maybe this year. Maybe next. But they’d get there. Tough place, the Lowlands, but they’d look out for each other. Always had. Besides, couldn’t be any tougher than these fucking hills. He wondered if Carel would follow them there, too. Who’d do the Nest's cooking, then?
He was halfway to the door when he heard it. The slow whisper of a thousand thousand breaths, brushes on the stones, rippling closer. He hesitated for a moment, then cursed, staggering for the door, cask slipping against his arm. The rain caught him on the doorstep, turning him silver with a layer of frigid water, and he spilled clumsily into the firelight beyond, nearly dropping the cask.
‘Easy!’
‘I’ve got it!’ He snapped back, straightening and setting it down on the bar beside the other. Da had got his pipe lit in the time Lokk had been outside, and the little twisting strings of smoke were curling upwards from his whiskered mouth. Carel was beside him, spooning her steaming brown broth into three small bowls on the bar.
‘Just in time for dinner.’ Da told him, sucking on his pipe.
‘As always.’ Carel murmured.
‘I-’
‘You look wet.’
‘I swear to-’
‘Get the door, will you. You trying to let the storm in?’
Lokk scowled, latching the door, and snatched up his bowl silently. He looked out at the rest of the common room, savouring the heat of the fire for a moment. Just as he left it. Of course it was. What would have changed?
‘What about Isandur, then?’ One of the villagers beside the fire was asking. Lokk snorted.
‘This one, again?’
‘It’s a good story.’ Da said quietly, blowing a little stream of smoke through his pursed lips.
‘Heard it a half-dozen times already, this month.’
‘Don’t let Godry hear you talking rot.’ Carel told him, taking up her own bowl and stirring it gently. ‘Wouldn’t want him giving it up. Albin would have to take over.’
Lokk’s eyes caught the little group of strangers again, sitting in the shadows away from the fire. Talking quietly amongst themselves. Dark cloaks and dour faces. At least that was new. They even looked like they might be more bored than he was.
Outside, the rain drummed down over the thatching, and the wind whined over the hills. He sighed, and took a mouthful of the steaming, tasteless stew, frowning to himself. Another night. Another boring fucking night.

Bonus chapter to celebrate 100 followers on Royal Road. Hopefully we're just getting started.
Series Page - Read 10 weeks ahead on Patreon - Read the story so far on Royal Road
*
Chapter Twelve - The Blacksmith's Boy (Part One)
‘Lokk?’ Lokk glanced over his shoulder at the sound, frowning, and thought better of responding. Carel could manage without him a few moments longer. ‘Is someone calling you?’ The girl beside him asked, looking up at him with large eyes. Wanda, her name was, with a set of generous, pleasing dimples either side of a smiling mouth, freckled skin framed with a shock of crimson hair. His age. Maybe a year or so older. Who could tell? Who would care? Fifty men and women called Rindon home. Ten were close to his age. Four of them were women. Three of those weren’t his kin, and only one of those wasn’t already sick of the sight of him. Not yet, anyway. ‘Lokk?’ She asked him again, and he met her eye, brushing a strand of fair hair back from his brow. ‘They’ll wait.’ He told her, favouring her with a careless smile. ‘What were you saying? About your mother?’ ‘Lokk!’ The call came again, louder this time, and accompanied by a loud clatter of pots through the kitchen door. He flinched, glancing up irritably. When he looked down again, Wanda was frowning, dimples dimpling into a polite, if apologetic, smile. ‘I… had best be going.’ ‘Wait, Wanda, I...’ But she was already gone, hurrying off through the little maze of tables and chairs towards the Nest’s door. Lokk watched her go, not a little wistfully, ignoring a quiet smirk from one of the early arrivals. Then he sighed and went out through the door behind the bar, scowling. The heat in the kitchen was thick with vapour. Steam poured out of a large pot hung swinging over the fire, steam that smelled of scavenged herbs and stale meat. Carel was standing beside it, stirring the contents with a ladle longer than her arm, pale hair tied back in a tight knot behind her head. On the counter beside her, the desiccated remains of a half-dozen different vegetables. The meat had left nothing behind. ‘What?’ He asked irritably, closing the door behind him. ‘What do you think?’ His sister replied, shooting him an irritable glance over her shoulder. ‘I don’t think me doing all the work whilst you drink our casks dry is what Da had in mind.’ ‘I wasn’t just drinking.’ He told her. An apron was hanging up by the door, and he hung it sullenly over his shoulders, frowning. ‘Besides, you look like you were managing just fine without me.’ Carel snorted. ‘Someone had to.’ ‘You’re much better at it than me, anyways.’ He added offhandedly, taking the ladle from her hands and sipping appreciatively from the little bowl of brownish broth. ‘Leave me to the casks. I’ll keep them company instead.’ ‘I’m only better at it because Da taught me.’ Carel told him, scowling. ‘And he only taught me because he knew you’d be off trying to bed every girl in the village whenever his back’s turned. How is Maddy, by the way?’ ‘Wanda.’ He corrected. Carel snorted. ‘Anything that breathes, I suppose.’ Lokk gave her a hurt look. ‘Now, I’d hardly say anyth-‘ ‘That’s actually my point.’ She interrupted him, snatching back the ladle. ‘You would say anything, if it got you what you wanted. Now make yourself useful and cut some bread.’ ‘No need to be hurtful.’ He told her with a frown, going over to the counter and snatching up a knife. ‘Would be much simpler if I only had eyes for one someone. Not all of us have it so easy.’ He ducked just in time as part of a turnip crunched into the wall beside his head. ‘You’re right, I’m better off without your help!’ Carel told him, turning back to the pot. ‘Go back to your barrels.’ ‘Thought you’d never ask.’ He shrugged the apron off his shoulders, and ducked through the door, just as another dismembered vegetable whistled past his ear. Back in the common room, a few more of the villagers had assembled around one of the tables near the fire, making the early overtures of evening conversation around the edges of their ale mugs. Da had emerged from the Nest’s bowels, and was now skirting the table skilfully, fresh cask under arm. Lokk took his place behind the bar, doing his best to look busy. It was only then he noticed the other table. Further from the fire, this one. Quieter, too. Dark cloaks, dark faces. Lokk didn’t recognise them, and there wasn’t anyone in Rindon he didn’t know. As he watched, one of them looked up towards him with dark eyes, and he looked away, busying himself polishing a particularly stubborn mug. ‘You look busy.’ Da had appeared at his side, setting the cask down on the bar with a little sigh of effort. His rosy cheeks were rosier than ever, and his clothes smelt of pipe-smoke. ‘I am busy.’ ‘I suppose your sister didn’t need your help?’ The innkeep smiled knowingly, taking his old pipe from a pocket in his shirt and rubbing it clean on his sleeve. ‘Said so herself.’ ‘Course she did.’ ‘I-’ ‘Well, it was a fucking storm wasn’t it. Not every little shower gets farted out a wizard’s arse.’ Albin, the butcher, exclaimed from near the fire. Overtures done then. Time for an argument. Lokk might have smiled, had he not been so terribly bored by it all. ‘This is a long one. They’ll be here a while yet.’ Da told him thoughtfully, chewing idly at the nib of his pipe. He frowned. His Ma had hated that thing. But Ma was gone, and it wouldn’t do any good, thinking about her. ‘We’ll need another cask.’ ‘Older the better?’ ‘Oldest the best.’ The innkeep agreed, grinning at him. Lokk nodded and turned towards the door, then hesitated. ‘I don’t know them folk.’ He said quietly, nodding towards the little group of dark figures sitting away from the fire. The innkeep caught his look and frowned. ‘Solen’s new hands. Lowlanders.’ He replied, tamping some weed into the end of his pipe with the end of his thumb. ‘Nosey bunch. He’s got a few more besides, I hears. Must be a busy season up at the mine.’ Lokk frowned. ‘Do mines have busy seasons?’ ‘Damned if I know. Keep to ‘emselves, mostly, anyways. Been here best part of a month, I reckon. Had one of ‘em in here asking questions, few days back, nothing since.’ The innkeep stopped fiddling with his pipe for a moment, giving his son a sideways look. ‘Still, they pay their way. Up front. Which is more than I can say for most of this lot.’ Lokk stole one last look at the quiet table of strangers, then turned and went out through a side door and into the night beyond, leaving Da at the bar alone. The cold air bit at his skin as he emerged into the dark, and he shivered, shrugging himself a little deeper into his shirt. Winter came quickly, this close to the Teeth, filling the rocks with the kind of deep, dark cold that lasted well into spring. Presently, a rumbling cloud of purpling rain was drawing in over the mountains, and the wind was picking up. Lokk shivered again, scowling. Just his luck to catch the rain. He made his way around the side of the sloping roof of the inn, head low against the gathering whine of the wind. Another night, another cask. Another squabble over nothing by the fire. Another restless sleep, wrapped in cold blankets. Alone. Summer was bad enough, but winter in the foothills was slower than a monk in a brothel. The women, such as they were, stayed home, for the most part. Those that did make it to the Nest didn’t wait out the first mugs. Even Cal had stopped calling, this past month. Overheard, a pale flash of light, followed by a distant rumble. Rain had started, somewhere off up the slopes. Lokk aimed another choice curse at no one in particular. No women, no friends. No money. It was a sorry state of affairs, if ever he’d seen one. He reached the store and began fiddling with the lock with numb fingers, frowning. It was hardly Cal’s fault, he knew. That blacksmith was quite mad. Everyone knew it. Locked up in that old forge, hammering away, night and day. Lokk had seen him a few times. Fonder of glaring than talking. Wasn’t exactly afraid of him, but he certainly didn’t like him. Big tree of a man, arms thick as thighs, had to stoop to get through most doorways. And his eyes! Lokk shivered again. Felt like ice on your skin when he looked at you. Strays like Cal couldn’t be choosers, Lokk knew that well enough. But if he was him, he’d have run off years ago. The latch finally gave, and he swung the door open with a triumphant snort. He felt his way along the row of casks closest to the door, where the older ones were, fumbling in the dark. Behind him, the thunder crashed against the side of the hills, vibrating through his boots, and he flinched in spite of himself. If that mad blacksmith was going to keep Cal locked up like some trained animal, he’d have to get by without him. Not like Cal was the best company, anyway, these days. Always had been a strange one, but pale eyes had started getting far too clever for his own good, recently. More full of secrets than a Westri merchant. Sometimes he wondered if Cal saw the world the rest of them did, or one entirely his own. And then there was the Carel problem. His hand settled on the cask closest to the far wall, and he dragged it grumbling from its place, wedging it under one arm. No, he could hardly blame Cal for any of it. He was just bored. Still, better bored at the inn than locked up in that damn forge with the cracked old blacksmith and his scarred face. He snorted under his breath, shivering at the thought. They’d been talking about leaving for years now. Going west. Arinath, maybe, Uldoroth, even. Men could make a good living in the white stones, so they’d heard. Makers knew they couldn’t stay here forever. Run the inn? Take up mining? No, they wouldn’t be here, forever. Maybe this year. Maybe next. But they’d get there. Tough place, the Lowlands, but they’d look out for each other. Always had. Besides, couldn’t be any tougher than these fucking hills. He wondered if Carel would follow them there, too. Who’d do the Nest's cooking, then? He was halfway to the door when he heard it. The slow whisper of a thousand thousand breaths, brushes on the stones, rippling closer. He hesitated for a moment, then cursed, staggering for the door, cask slipping against his arm. The rain caught him on the doorstep, turning him silver with a layer of frigid water, and he spilled clumsily into the firelight beyond, nearly dropping the cask. ‘Easy!’ ‘I’ve got it!’ He snapped back, straightening and setting it down on the bar beside the other. Da had got his pipe lit in the time Lokk had been outside, and the little twisting strings of smoke were curling upwards from his whiskered mouth. Carel was beside him, spooning her steaming brown broth into three small bowls on the bar. ‘Just in time for dinner.’ Da told him, sucking on his pipe. ‘As always.’ Carel murmured. ‘I-’ ‘You look wet.’ ‘I swear to-’ ‘Get the door, will you. You trying to let the storm in?’ Lokk scowled, latching the door, and snatched up his bowl silently. He looked out at the rest of the common room, savouring the heat of the fire for a moment. Just as he left it. Of course it was. What would have changed? ‘What about Isandur, then?’ One of the villagers beside the fire was asking. Lokk snorted. ‘This one, again?’ ‘It’s a good story.’ Da said quietly, blowing a little stream of smoke through his pursed lips. ‘Heard it a half-dozen times already, this month.’ ‘Don’t let Godry hear you talking rot.’ Carel told him, taking up her own bowl and stirring it gently. ‘Wouldn’t want him giving it up. Albin would have to take over.’ Lokk’s eyes caught the little group of strangers again, sitting in the shadows away from the fire. Talking quietly amongst themselves. Dark cloaks and dour faces. At least that was new. They even looked like they might be more bored than he was. Outside, the rain drummed down over the thatching, and the wind whined over the hills. He sighed, and took a mouthful of the steaming, tasteless stew, frowning to himself. Another night. Another boring fucking night.

This is a letter I wanted to send myself around half a year ago but didn't maybe because of what a bad place I was in (and still am), maybe I just needed to get some of the things out of my system. Today I found it and it reignited some things in me, and I wrote some more words about what is currently happening to me. I changed the names and some other things to remain anonymous. It's long and all over the place and I don't expect anyone to read it all honestly.
TRIGGER WARNING: Suicidal ideation, Suicide, Depression, Recklessness, Rejection
As before, I wonder what's going on in your life right now, because, honestly, I don't even feel like writing this letter at this point. Things are really bad, and today I have a good enough day to write something up but I don't feel well at all, and it doesn't seem like things will get better, if ever. Part of me knows that things always change and there's a chance that they will change for the better, but from my experience it doesn't usually work out, I seem to be switching from one issue to another, be it writing a thesis, finding a job, or my current state. I really can't seem to catch a break and for once be at least somewhat happy and satisfied with where I'm at in life.
I'm gonna tell a little bit about my situation and refer to some of the things you said in your email. Most of it will be about my "relationship" with Amy, and how much it affected me mentally.
I moved in with Amy and things are bad in ways I can't even describe. First thing is that over the beginning of the last year I fell in love with her and really, badly wanted to matter anything to her and be important to her, and for her to show that somehow for me. We went together on a trip to mountains and generally spend more time together than ever before. I really felt the chemistry between us, i thought we got a long really well. We talked at the fireplace party and she said she's too fucked up to date me, and that she would never do this to me. Since I moved in with her as a flatmate there were some things that bugged me about the way she is, like careless about a lot of things (mainly her safety and well being), horribly under eating in the name of some fucked up "diet", not listening to my guidance about most things, like not taking breaks at the gym, and other minor things that really bugged me and kinda felt conflicting because she doesn't seems childish, in fact quite the opposite, but some of those behaviours certainly felt like that at the time. But generally things were good, at least most of the time, we spent time together, went to gym, watched shows, threw a few parties etc.
As the time went on, things got worse, and I don't even remember every bad situation that happened over the last 5 months. Some early days she cried a lot, but it's this kind of stiff hopeless cry that really gets me. She doesn't feel emotional, she feels empty, her eyes are really scary sometimes... One day she got really drunk, I think it was an anniversary of her best friends passing, I was really anxious, because she didn't seem like she was controlling herself at all, and I don't know, seeing people just empty, hopeless, out of control, careless and drowning themselves in alcohol ALONE just affects me in a really bad way mentally. When we drove the next day to get her a bookstand (which she was really obsessed with getting this exact day) she was acting really manic and on the edge, I was so nervous that I shook her one time when she said something especially deranged (idea of driving with the complete bookshelf in the public commute), I don't know the last time I felt so much out of control of the situation and shaken, even though the whole situation is seemingly so fucking innocent. One day she threw away a line about how it's so stupid that suicide is a sin. We complain a lot about our lives and make dark humor jokes in our group, and yeah, there is always something real beneath them, I sometimes do have dark thoughts, and I feel like I have a lot of issues as well, but this is all heavy stuff that I wouldn't talk about freely and lightheartedly. I didn't thought then how serious she was, well I kinda did, because I asked her the next day about this, and she laughed saying "Are you serious right now? xD" And she said "Yes, of course I was serious". Before that she talked how she was so tired she was barely able to drive and see other cars, which worried me so much that I can't even describe it, and she didn't say it in a worried tone, just like she wanted to brag or something, I don't know why (she does that A LOT). And I don't know, but it was REALLY traumatic for me to hear her say those things like this, I couldn't sleep for days after this, I was in an especially bad place then. She said she first was going to do it when she was a teen, then once her mother dies, and right now since she knows it's a sin and she wants to see her family and friends she has to live to 50, thats how long she expects to live without killing herself. I said that she still has people here, do we not matter to her at all?, and she said that in the afterlife she has more of them. I said that doesn't she care anything about her health?, because she do goes to doctors and stuff, and she said she only does so because of her mother, she never went to a doctor because she wanted to. She said that she doesn't understand how atheists don't kill themselves immediately. She said it all without blinking an eye about how fucked up what she's saying is, it wasn't like confessing, more like explaining basic facts, and that's the thing that I think fucked me up the most, because if I were to say those things I would be shaking and having difficulties with every word, not throwing this stuff this carelessly.
I am writing wild scenarios in my head about how fucked up things she did in her past, in the parties etc. and they make me really anxious and depressed that she's like this and not much more innocent as I usually pictured her (and still sometimes do, because she's not acting toxic or deranged 100% of the time, she actually shows a lot of care for certain things, she loves every kid and animal etc., she never even smoked a cigarette), because she never seemed so much like a typical club party girl that gets into trouble a lot, well I knew she partied and drunk a lot, but she always seemed kinda different from that. Most of the time she's not like that, she can behave with a lot of compassion most certain situations. She talks about all the speeding tickets she got (and got out of by sweet talking the policemen), she texts all the time while driving, she admits to driving recklessly when alone, she lies to her mother all the time about how well mentally she is, how much she's drinking, like she were silently going on all fours between bedroom and bathroom bc she was so drunk, sometimes she even lies about having passengers when driving to the city we live in because she's so unwell she drives alone and makes stops along the way to make it, she lies about how long it took for her to drive. Sometimes I feel like everything is fake because of some of these things, like I am loosing the touch with reality.
One time we drove back to our hometown, and like halfway through she started to get really sleepy, I could see by the corner of my eye that her head was going down for a fraction of a second. I wanted to switch to drive, but she was having none of it, saying that she already planned to drive home herself and if she planned it then it will happen. I started to get really anxious and frantically started to think of the ways to do something, I stupidly suggested that I will drive my car after her once we get to my home, and she said "You really ARE fucked up xD", because she would still be inside her car and how that would help? And I know it wouldn't, but I panically tried to find something, that's just something that I came up with on the spot. I just told her to text me immediately when she gets home (and she did), but the whole situation was just so fucking stressful for me, I even then told my mother about what's happening but without darker details.
She seems to have a problem wich alcohol, although certain situations can prevent her from drinking extensively, like seeing the kids in school the next day. It's kind of scary how much she can drink and then be sober the next day.
One time she was on her period (they get really bad for her) and she wanted to drink some alcohol because of the weekend, but she was on her first week of antidepressants and all those things caused me not to go to my friends and stay with her to look after, she became really tired after a while, she was barely staying on her feet, when she went to take a shower before bed I asked her to not lock the door and she didn't. I went to clean the dishes, and I think I heard something but I didn't pay attention or anything, but later she was in bed and clearly trying to hide from me that she collapsed under the shower. She was okay, but the fact that she didn't want to admit it to me made me really anxious and depressed. She was so out of energy that I had to hold her the water bottle to drink from. I felt so bad, I don't think I could sleep that night.
She doesn't let me drive because once I drove with her when being really nervous and weren't like the best at it, it kinda angers me because it's double standard as fuck, not letting me drive when I'm nervous, but driving when you're almost sleeping. And I don't consider myself a bad driver, apart from once loosing control when going to friends wedding I have never have an accident. She also gets really mad if I'm going to drive after drinking single beer and waiting like 4 hours after it, and that's NOTHING compared to the things she does.
Sometimes I'm hesitant to tell her some of the things I think, partly because it't pointless, and partly because her response would just make me more triggered, angry, anxious and depressed.
Sometimes I don't know what to do, telling anyone about those things (like her mother) seems like breaking her trust, and those are personal things that I really shouldn't tell my friends about, hence I tell them to my therapist.
What's scary and fucked up is that depression is not only hopelessness, sadness and lack of energy, but for some people also being mad about everything, saying really hurtful things to people that love you, hating on and judging literally everyone, becoming really sickly, strongly obsessed about something, behaving carelessly and recklessly. And every attempt at trying to address those things is responded with some hateful, poisonous comments or "I'm just like that", one time I said to her that she should care less about something, and she responded with a lot of hate that I should just stop "shaking my hands when I'm nervous, can I do that? can I?" I feel so fucking bad sometimes, because part of me wants to scream into her face about the things she does, and at the same time:
I know that it's an illness, and I don't know if that would be bad of me to be angry at her about anything
I'm worried about things she would say to me back, she sometimes seems to revel in hurting people emotionally or at least being really good at it and constantly looking for topics when arguing with someone, and I'm really fragile, sensitive and easy to hurt, for some reason especially to things she says to me
I don't feel like I can have any influence on her actions, although she does comment a lot of the time that other people do, like her mother of her one female friend etc. so sometimes I feel like it contradicts itself, although she does say that she needs to be controlled in some way to do what it said, like being yelled at or being put in the position with no choice, and I don't want to be like that and I don't think I have the strength of character to be like that, and never will
She sends a lot of memes about depression to our group chat, and I personally don't think they're helpful, at least for me, I'm not feeling like someone is going through the same thing as me and it helps, it's more like everyone is trying to drag each other down, some of those memes are as hopeless as you can get, making fun of therapy and psychiatrists, never having any happiness (dementors can't do anything to you), missing yourself and thinking its too late now to regain it, generally memes about not being a human anymore and never being again etc., being put into a mental hospital if you tell your therapist everything, about hating and despising other people. There's this friend that she says is way worse than her, and that he doesn't even want help unlike her, that he's so used to it he almost likes it, I honestly don't know if that doesn't also affect her. One time we drove to our hometown, 5 of us with him and a few others, and they were talking about suicide, and some other friend said this cliche line about suicide being the most egotistical thing a person can do, and even though he was quiet the whole ride he just said "Yeah, right" from the back. I don't know, I guess it depends on the person, but for me surrounding myself with this topics would make me feel worse and not understood. She also has a lot of kids in school with mental issues, she has a kid who is supposed to be after a suicide attempt (that's also one of the things that froze my heart, when she said that she knows he and his parents are bullshitting because he would be put to the hospital for 3 months, but how would she know that?), or generally kids that are on SSRIs and that one time kid told her justifying himself that he took the double dose of antidepressants and she was holding herself not to say "me too!". They had a movie night and they played UNO, and she said that out the 3 kids she played with, all of them were in a psychiatric hospital.
One time at a party in front of everyone she said she thought about jumping out of a window, but being crippled her mom would have to deal with that so she wouldn't do it like that. Other time she said she changes the mind when she loses the energy, she would try to hang herself but would become tired and not do it. Once also we talked about unrelated topic, and I said as a trivia that dead bodies can produce sounds like exhaling, and she said she knows that because she know a lot about dead bodies, and she reads a lot about that... Once she said that she doesn't understand that atheists don't immediately kill themselves when someone close to them dies. Once she said something about there not being anything left of her inside. Once she said that her mother was worried she would be locked up in a psychiatric hospital, but she had to assure her that she knows how to mask everything, and she's not dangerous to others so that wouldn't happen.
Am I too innocent for these topics? Sometimes I feel like a kid listening to adults, and that I don't know and don't understand them and I feel small and worthless.
I think there are a lot of different ways to direct that recklessness and negativity through things like exercise, media escapism, music etc. and not things like hard partying, drugs/alcohol, reckless driving, acting angry etc.
I think that deeply believing that chemical imbalance is the cause of depression is very hurtful, because it's not completely proven and might turn some people off from forms of treatment that could potentially help them.
Escapism is a big thing for me, and I think that it helped me cope with a lot of things. Books, movies, music, I spend a lot of time looking for new music and artists.
I'm becoming very nosy and kinda controlling around her (well not actually controlling cause that's impossible with her, but just very nosy), I want to eardrop her conversations with her mother, to always know what she is doing, to know how well she is all the time.
There's no appreciation for me being around, even more so, saying that you don't matter that much, and what do even have or experienced together to be close. And that she can't really be close to people that don't immediately say what they're thinking (like me, she said, even though when i asked if she thinks I'm a fake friend she said no but I'm not honest), but part of me feels that it's bullshit, everyone hides something and only lets a part of themselves out, although it's true that sometimes I act more quietly and like I'm obviously hiding something. I feel inadequate and really bad because of that because the things I experienced in the last months were big for ME, and definitely changed me, but I guess they were nothing to her.
Sometimes she talks about how it's weird to her that normal people have dreams about having homes, vacations etc. One time she said how when she was little she said she never would be boring and bitter like adults, and then depression hit her. Recently she said she finally has a dream, to be able to rent a studio apartment to finally live alone. It kinda affected me, because I DO live with her (apart from others), and that would mean that she wants to get out from me too. One time she said that she hopes someone lively and fun will move in with us once our current flatmate get out, and that would mean that she is bored with me and my character, and she much preferred the previous one.
With the whole moving out thing, she sometimes talks about things getting better, like closer to spring she will renew the gym subscription, we will decorate the balcony for parties and hanging out (of course she said something about sleeping drunk in there...), and generally some things like that. It does make me wonder, do those lower points happen especially in autumn/winter ? I mean, I know there's even a disorder for that but I can't imagine there being such a huge difference.
When she started school, she became really overwhelmed with the amount of exercises she had to do before lessons. Most teachers don't have everything done beforehand but she said she absolutely needs to, and because of that she spent most of the time just doing them or resting, she was so obsessed with doing them she wanted drop out of our mountain vacation trip because she would be too much behind, and she got angry at me for saying that she needs a rest and that my talking doesn't help anything.
Over a month after the school she started the meds, and it doesn't feel like they helped her, at the beginning they only made her really sleepy and out of energy. In some ways i think that they made her worse, or maybe she just didn't have the energy to hide some things. I remember her reading the drug leaflet and noticing loudly that it may strengthen suicidal thoughts, i then read it myself because I was worried. It's honestly a bad thing that she had to check with the psychiatrist only after 2 months and not sooner because it wasn't helping her. On the second visit the doctor was surprised that it didn't help her (which I think might be a bad thing from her since it reinforces the thought that nothing will help her), and decided to up the dose for next 3 weeks to rule out the drug, and mentioned another stronger drug that she will prescribe her, and Amy asked her is it's a drug that is used in a psychiatric hospitals because she wanted to know, and apparently yes. I'm kinda scared what might be happening when she starts it, because the upped dose of current one doesn't seem to change anything. One time she asked me if I think they could lock her up if she caused an accident while driving while on this drug (if its not allowed to drive on it, because she admitted she would anyway), which again messed with my head a lot. The doctor also said that she might be more immune to various drugs than most people, and she said that it's probably true because a lot of the drugs she takes are quite strong, and she takes A LOT of them, hormones for acne and her very strong and long periods, inhaled steroids for asthma, antidepressants, drugs for sleep. Sometimes she ignores signs of some of her illnesses, like anemia. She sometimes offers people prescription drugs like antidepressants or antibiotics, which makes me really angry because those shouldn't be given around like candies, but like I said earlier I never told her it makes me angry. She also said that she only counts on the meds to work, if they won't, she would off herself
I joked a few times that we could get a cat here, I know that it's no cure but animals can certainly be a help for people who are going through rough times. She really took the subject seriously some day and convinced everyone, including our tenant and flatmates, that we should get a cat. She really wanted to have this one specific cat about 2h hour drive from us, so we drove there, but the cat got away from our car, and we couldn't find it. Few hours later when we got home she was convinced that we killed that cat and started asking everyone if they want anyone dead, because she can arrange that, because everyone around her dies, and she didn't want any cat at all anymore. But we eventually took Luna, and the missing cat was found later. After a few weeks with the cat, our flatmates started complaining about about the cat being in the apartment and not only our rooms (WTF?) and about its litter box and food. Amy was already really annoyed by them, especially this guy who is a little dumb, talkative and annoying, but this whole situation took it too whole another level. She almost couldn't control herself with how much they got on her nerves, merely hearing them walk on the corridor would make her furious. One night in the middle of the week she started going to the kitchen to get drunk to be able to sleep because of them. I obviously couldn't ignore that so I went with her to just be there. She changed topics every few seconds, talked about something that its a good thing our knifes are not sharp, she was generally acting very ill, which usually makes me extremely anxious and quiet. I feel like she was noticing that and she said "why aren't you talking with me ? X and Y always had gossips with me in the kitchen...". Then she went to sleep, texted me a lot about 100 different topics, and then went back to drink some more, then when she went to sleep she texted me something that made me feel like my brain is being fried. She send me a receipt of her drug and it said that overdosing it might cause heart problems and even death, and she added "if I found out that suicide is not a sin, or something changes, I already know the way <3". I didn't know what to do with myself for a good few minutes. My mind was racing and frying, my heart was frozen, and it took me a good while to calm down. Eventually I just took our cat and took it to her to sleep with, but didn't bring the subject, I just couldn't, I was too weak.
Next day she started being obsessed with moving out of here, far away from them, she started looking for available apartments and firstly I wanted to move with her, but the more I thought about this, the more I thought I just couldn't handle all of these things mentally. She was pushing me to define my stand on this, and just said "fuck it" angry at me for not being decisive," I'm gonna move with another guy I know", but I don't think that worked out since she eventually started looking for studio apartments for herself. Eventually I went to her and said that I think I want to live alone, that i feel kinda unstable mentally myself, and I wanted to let her know that I'm not wanting to let her go, but she was just like coldly "I'll be fine" without much emotion behind that. I then started to pour out my things about her (at first she said she didn't have the energy for that, but asked her to listen), how sometimes I felt like she has something negative about me that she doesn't tell me, that's she's colder to me than usually, she said that she's like that to everyone now, and I said that I felt like it was more personal, and she denied. I asked her if she thinks that I'm fake and she said "not fake, but you're not telling what you're thinking" and that she couldn't be close with people like that (or something along those lines). She said that I should have told her all of that right then. She always prides herself for always saying exactly what she means and being painfully straightforward. I also tried to confront her about being negative about my therapy, because I said to her I went to therapy, and she said "and you think it will help you ?" kinda ironically, and i was really hurt by that, she doesn't really believe in therapy and said that judging by colleges in our country her mother is a better therapist than most Ts here. She said then that she meant if I THINK its going to help me, not mocking, and when I said that I don't respond to "how was it?" is because I was worried she would mock me, she replied with "whatever , if you say so". I also said that I'm secretive because telling the truth would make other people hurt me, and she said "well of course".
To this day I don't know if I hurt her with that conversation, I'm not even sure if she understood that I'm very bad mentally right now mainly because of her. I felt really guilty about abandoning her, and talked about it extensively on a therapy session. I know that to save anyone you have to save yourself first, but I would be just proving that she's fucked up and everyone will eventually abandon her. On the other hand, I don't know if she cares AT ALL about me leaving her, maybe I really do am just a flatmate and not much else anymore.
Her mood massively affects mine, I could have the best day of my life and one sentence from her could easily ruin that. Sometimes I get anxious when I hear her walking on the corridor or when she gets back from school because I have no idea what mood she might come home with.
Most fucked up thing is that despite all of this is sometimes I'm still attracted to her. All it takes is one smile, one good day and I'm still rethinking if I would ever want to be with her. And there are also very good reasons for that, she can be very caring, lovable, funny and clever. I also fantasize about her sexually to some small extent. And the thing is that I never before found her very attractive and wasn't interested in her.
How does her mother fit in this ? I don't know but she lost her father as a child, she was taking her to therapists and psychiatrists since she was a child . Sometimes I feel like she can make her worse by saying certain things, like when missing cat was found and saying that it was bad and scary and that we could be taking this one right now. She might have been very overprotective (or might have good reasons to) but Amy was being rebellious and reckless anyway, which might have caused how many lies she tells to her.
When it comes to me, I've never been in such a bad state mentally, today is not the worst but the general period is without a doubt the worst time of my life. Even before all of this I was SURE I needed some help with my mental health, but everything that was happening, her darkness sipping into me, triggering me, listening and talking about suicide all the time for literal months can't be good for anyone although I think I try to show her it doesn't affect me that much, me internally reacting very very badly to her strange and sometimes deranged and reckless behaviours, feeling on the edge a lot of the time due to her, not being able to think about anything else, all that made me finally take the step and make an appointment with a therapist. I noticed in myself symptoms of depression, social anxiety and ADHD, I'm still not sure if I would be diagnosed with anything but I do know that something is wrong with me, especially since others don't seem to be so deeply affected by her despite being close to her for longer than me. There were days where I couldn't sleep, in which I had a strong feelings of hopelessness, depressing feelings about her, myself, my life and the whole world, I researched a lot about depression, and some places are really bad to get into because there is no hope in there, people just drag each other down and write that nothing ever worked for them etc. I even thought about reading up about some therapeutic techniques I could use on her, but now I notice how stupid that sounds.
I sometimes think if she realizes how difficult it is to listen to some of the things she says and does. And I'm not talking about her being difficult and with a quick temper, but just genuinely pouring this darkness on those close to her.
In terms of therapy, I'm still not sure if it can help me with anything. I'm not discounting the people that it did help, but I'm just not sure about me. I know that it probably takes time, I do genuinely feel better when someone listens to all of that (even if I feel like a fraud sometimes because there are surely others that come to her with heavier stuff) even if it lasts only some time after the session. I'm not even sure what would therapy do to me, like what exactly could it possibly change about me, will I care less, will I just cope better, will I change my personality, or will it just be something that I can tell myself that I'm doing without actually helping me
That's a weird one, I'm kind of angry at her for being the best or at least very good at a lot of things, that (when she wants to of course) she can befriend literally everyone and people adore her (like the kids in school, parents congratulating and being shocked how great the kids are doing at school), she had a lot of boyfriends and always seem to have some guys trying to get to her. She's shockingly charismatic, talkative and social when she wants or needs to be. I'm always complaining about not having friends and then she scoffs at me for that I don't know what I'm talking about, but I don't interact with 10% amount of people she does even though she ALWAYS ALWAYS talks how antisocial and what a b she is (meaning she's mean to everyone), she knows a shit ton of people, shocking number actually, especially when you think about her mental state
I really try to be a good friend, but that seems to not be enough. I try to help her with everything, doing the shopping, being with her and talking, asking how she feels, figuring out ways to maybe not help but at least show the support.
Right now we're still gonna live together and I'm gonna move in to the bigger room, and I plan to be in our hometown working remotely more to be better mentally, but I'm still unsure how all that is gonna work out...
Sometimes I feel like I'm fluctuating with how much this really affects me, It feels random, some moments I think all of it affects me less and am able to just go somewhere else with my thoughts, but not always.
==== 6 months later====
Some time has passed since I wrote those last paragraphs, actually it's already 6 months, and in some ways things are better, but in some they are much worse. She got better, not all the way she was before, she still hates being with people and is very mean, sarcastic and emotionally careless (she recently found out she'll probably won't be able to have kids and it didn't faze her at all), throws a joke or two about suicide but it doesn't seem so serious now, she got off meds as far as I know (because I don't know much anymore, but I'll get to that), she found a psychiatrist that first wants to make all kind of tests before prescribing her any drugs, she actually talks about plans for the future, is able to cook for herself, is more social, she's even going to a wedding with a friend she almost hooked up with a month ago (that's also a big thing that for me I want to write about later).
As for me, I'm much worse in a few ways. These things she said and did affected me very deeply back then and I wanted a way to cope with that, and I started to call my old friend Jane and tell her some of the situations that were happening here. I felt bad about it but I just couldn't help myself, I had to tell someone. That was before I got my therapist, and I'm mainly talking about everything with her now, but I was so caught up and messed up with everything, that even after starting the therapy I also talked about some of the things with my ex who is still my good friend, I mentioned she has depression and takes meds to one of my colleagues (without any details), and I mentioned that she has some problems and thinks about moving out to another friend, one day I also told everything to my parents (without the most disturbing details) because I was on a verge of a mental breakdown and just couldn't bring myself to come back here. I also once told our new roommate that Amy is very weird and obsessed about some things like loudly closing doors etc. without telling much else though. That's a lot of people and honestly I don't trust myself that I didn't say anything else to anyone although I doubt it as I don't have much friends or interact with people a lot. Not that it excuses me, but she wasn't really too secretive about it and seemed very open to talking about being depressed and hating life etc. I certainly broke her trust and I feel like shit for it, nothing really excuses me and I can't change what I did, which is slowly killing me inside.
She confronted me about it when I came back from my parent house after telling them everything and finally got the courage to text her about the way she treats me, about what I did wrong, if she thinks that I'm hiding something from her or that I'm insincere about everything I do. Because she's very different to me than she was before and it honestly kills me inside. She told me she regurarly catches me lying about irrelevant small things and she has no idea why but recently she doesn't even trust herself, let alone someone else. I don't think I ever deliberately lied to her but I might have unknowningly responded with wrong information so she doesn't get mad ex. who didn't do the dishes or something. The worse thing is that she said that she heard things, certain minor details about herself from people that should know absolutely nothing about her, and she doesn't want anyone to know anything about her. Of course she didn't specify what details (and if they were even something private, but I can only assume yes by her reaction) and what people (to not break their trust) and I've been thinking about it ever since. She said that I was never her friend, I never knew anything about her and she doesn't really consider anyone her friend since O died from cancer. And that you can't just take anyone from the street and befriend them, and that we can just normally live our lives separately and not get too involved with each other, which really, really fucking hurt me to hear from person that I cared so deeply for, that I tried so hard to show that she matters to me, and to which I gave up so much of my own mental wellbeing to the point of feeling mentally ill myself (at least much more than usual).
I of course haven't told a word anyone since that conversation, and not because I was scared someone might tell her again, but I realize what a huge mistake that was and I honestly hate myself more than ever for breaking her trust and being such a piece of shit and not being able to change what happened or even to make up for it.
Our relationship gets kinda better at times, she talks to me normally sometimes mainly about our cat, although never for too long and practically never initiates a conversation, she barely texts with me, ignores me a lot, she doesn't really talk to me about what is happening with her life and work etc. I mostly find out anything from her conversations with others when I'm present, she is a lot more social with her friends recently and when she sends some screenshoted memes on a group chat there's always someone she's texting with, she's online a lot despite not writing me back, she goes out drinking with her friends every few weeks and I'm never a part of it anymore, I never drive with her back to our town on weekends anymore, and all of that while she live behind a wall, and this actually real rejection is quite honestly making me feel actually suicidal at times, and it gets worse with time to the point that I'm worried I might do something to myself, maybe not now or soon, but in the future, and I even sometimes write vague scenarios in my head about it. Apart from still going to therapy (which still doesn't seem to help me) I signed myself up to a psychiatrist despite my therapist saying that she doesn't see anything clinical in me, with the main issue being an ADHD diagnosis, as that's what I thought most accurately explains my struggles (especially RSD), and I did get diagnosed but I feel like I might have bended the reality a little and not actually have it, I am on my 2 days of meds (upped the dose today) and don't really feel much apart from a very light headache and dry mouth, so I guess that won't fix me after all.
When we were on a mountain trip a month ago I was feeling very bad, because while I was still a part of it and went with everyone, she treated everyone completely different to me, she was laughing, joking with them, being nice and talking to and being interested in them, and the others are not really my close friends so I was feeling a bit alone and isolated. The last night of the trip she and one of the guys (the one with which she's going to the wedding) went for a walk in the middle of nowhere together completely drunk, pissing everyone off for being irresponsible. But while everyone was scared and angry, I was depressed and I guess suicidal, I still have feelings for her despite everything, and seeing that she can go out into the night kissing some guy and after everything can't even hold a conversation with me or tell me anything nice was honestly doing very bad things to my head. And I remembered when a year ago she said she can't be with me, she's too fucked up and couldn't do that to me, but she knows this guy for almost 2 years now and considers him a colleague too so how's that different? I don't even smoke but I smoked like a whole pack of cigarettes that night...
When we came back from the trip I was in a very bad place mentally and said that I wanted to talk, I told her that I can't do this anymore and that I can't control the envy that I feel and that I'll probably have to move out even though I don't want that, and I don't want to leave her alone with our cat, she gave me an impression that she wants me to try, she mentioned my ex that's still my friend and that I got over her, and I told her it took me literal years to get over her, and she said that "so it's possible", we talked some more, maybe the most we talked in weeks if not months about various things, and I felt that things were going to get better, But they didn't. A few weeks passed and I feel just as rejected as before.
I can't disinvest emotionally from her, I can't stop thinking about what she thinks of me, if I'm fake and dishonest and always hide my true motives, and I don't think there is a point in confronting her again and apologizing and hoping for forgiveness, I feel like current state of my life will never change and even if we stop seeing and living with each other anymore, it will still take me years (if ever) to get over everything that happened in the last year because I'm not really better mentally when I'm home with my parents, I still think about it all the time. I don't want to leave this place, and I don't want to leave her with a cat she'll have to take care on her own, I don't know what to do anymore.

Hey first time posting i hope my zanpakuto concept isnt unreasonably powerful. Please let me know what you think:)
Zanpakuto: Fukutsu Yajū(indomitable beast)
Appearance: when sealed, Fukutsu Yajū looks like a Katana made of a dark metal with a hooked tip and a tsuba styled like two dragons eating eachother's tails.
Shikai Activation: "Rampage, Fukutsu Yajū"
Once activated, Fukutsu Yajū's blade becomes wreathed in white flame and glows with a dull red heat. Every successful hit with Fukustu Yajū causes its heat to grow until it is engulfed in white flame. Any offensive kido successfully blocked by Fukutsu Yajū is absorbed and charges its flame. While the flame is fully charged it can cut and melt through most other substances and spiritual defenses including bakudo. The more powerful the flame from Fukustu Yajū the more the users speed and physical strength grows, with its fully charged state giving the user strength and speed 10 times greater than before.
The user can use the flames wreathing Fukutsu Yajū as an arc of fire slicing through the air then call them back to wreath the blade again.
Bankai: Hakai no Ryū Fukutsu Yajū (dragon of destruction, indomitable beast)
Fukutsu Yajū's bakai can only be activated when its flames are fully charged. The flames that engulf Fukutsu Yajū's blade solidify into a bright white energy. The twin dragons on Fukutsu Yajū's tsuba morph into flame. One flies into the user's heart causing an aura of flame to spring up around them. The other grows and wraps around the blade of Fukutsu Yajū.
The flaming aura around the user gives them a moderate healing factor, healing all non-debilitating wounds and blocking out all pain as well as giving the user enhanced stamina.
The solidified energy of the blade allows it to move far quicker and can cut through even the strongest spiritual defenses including 90 level bakudo. The dragon wrapping around the blade bites and binds the opponent's weapon while the user attacks if it can, damaging it in the process. Mundane weapons and body parts are incinerated at a touch but even zanpakuto can sustain damage if bound too many times. From range the user can point Fukutsu Yajū's blade at the target and the dragon will open its mouth and breathe a beam of white hot flame. The beam can be as large as over a hundred meters in diameter or as condensed as a centimeter in diameter. The energy stays the same no matter how much area is covered so the more condensed the beam is, the more power it conveys to one spot.
This bankai is focused on all out offense. The user may rely on the bankai to keep them going even after they would usually be incapacitated but if they push themselves too far, their body will be unable to support their power and they will fall unconscious or even die as soon as their bankai ends.

Hi all!
My mom has MoyaMoya, and due to a series of strokes and surgeries she is quite disabled and is making very slow progress. She has aphasia (unable to communicate very well) and some physical disabilities as well. I am looking for a therapist recommendation as her disabilities have caused a great deal of emotional distress and depression for her, she loved to work and now has little hope of ever holding a job again. It is a little tricky finding a therapist who can work with her despite her communication disabilities (often I have to derive the meaning of what she says from just a few words and her body language).
She is really excited about the possibility of working with a therapist again, so any recommendations are welcome. We live in Virginia, USA, but don't mind virtual visits.

I don't even know where to start.
We both go to the same university, where we met, and were together for four months total. In the beginning I always had a lot of fun around him and his friends, but I knew that we probably weren't going to end up working out, especially because of the long distance over summer.
The term 'himbo' perfectly describes this man: his lack of general knowledge is astounding. The first time I met him, he didn't know what the word homophobic meant, he didn't know Montana is a state, and he didn't know what paprika was. Throughout our relationship more of these shocking discoveries came to light: he didn't know what a hate crime was, and has almost zero basic historical education. My personal favorite was that he could not name the seven continents. He guessed first The United States, then Alaska, and then corrected Alaska to Argentina. He did end up figuring out Antartica, props to him, but I feel understanding his absolute stupidity is necessary for the story.
At college, anytime I brought him around my friends, he was horrible. Inexplicably horrible. He was on his phone the whole time, did not engage in group conversation, and at times, was actively rude towards my friends. I ignored the red flag, and talked to him about the problem, hoping he would change his behavior (he said he would), but in the few times that he came around my friends I felt incredibly embarrassed by him. His excuse was always that they aren't 'his type of people' and even went to far as to call them obnoxious.
Fast forward to summer, he comes to visit my family for the first, and stays for a week. He treated my family the same way he treated my friends, paying them no mind, and thinking only about himself. Throughout his stay, he cried 3 separate times, in a seemingly manipulative way, managing to end every day on a tense and sour tone. Almost like he wanted to be miserable, and make me miserable. This trip my parents also generously got us Universal tickets, and he did not even thank them, even after I reminded him to. On top of this, he left his stuff scattered around my house, and generally made a mess, which doesn't necessarily bother me, but it was definitely disrespectful.
The next time he visited for just a weekend, but it is where the story gets really interesting. He brought into my house chocolate square edibles, and left them in his bag on the ground. The day prior, I talked to him about the importance of closing my bedroom door (where he was staying) to keep the dogs out, but I was not aware of the weed at this time. Come Sunday, my four girlfriends are at my house hanging out with both of us, and he is acting the same way towards my friends that he always did. Then I noticed my dog acting really weird. My mom wasn't home at the time, so first I called her to get home ASAP, about 20 minutes. In those 20 minutes I was with my extremely sick dog and 7 year old sister on the couch hoping that my dog didn't die before my mom could take her to the vet. My boyfriend walked right past me, and didn't come to sit with me, despite my obvious concern and need for help, until I called him over. He stood behind me, pet the dog twice, and then went into my room to call his friend and watch Fortnite youtube edits.
When my mom got home, she took the dog to the vet, where they first ran a drug panel. It tested positive for THC, caffeine, and Benzos. Remember when I said he left his stuff everywhere- he left packets of RunGum (caffeinated gum for running), and chewed up pieces around my house that my dog got into. The dog also obviously got into his edibles. He still won't admit to the benzos.
Before my mom called me to tell me about what showed up on the tests, or give any update, my boyfriend was frantic. He was yelling "NO!", and "FUCK!" to himself. I didn't really know what to make of it, but looking back, it's clear he knew that whatever happened was due to him, and he did not speak up to tell me, even though my dog would have definitely died without the wonders of modern medicine. By the time my mom calls me with an update about the drug panel, my boyfriend is crying hysterically, making it really hard to get any pertinent information out of him regarding the drugs.
Already this situation is not ideal, and his reaction to it made the problem much worse. I don't say this to be rude, I know that people cannot control their emotions but DAMN I have never seen anyone cry as much as this man does. At this point, my parents want him to be gone before they get back from the vet, but I can't get him to leave because of the emotional turmoil he's going through. I ended up getting my aunt to come over and help me calm him down, because I seriously could not do it alone; he was in crisis. Finally he leaves after his two hour breakdown, but of course this experience caused significant issues in our relationship. He proves disrespectful and self-serving at every intersection.
At this point, my whole family and all my friends wants me to break up with him, and they are certain that we will not work out. As a side note, earlier in the weekend, my boyfriend did not help my mom bring in the groceries, and stole the aux from her when she went to bring the groceries in. In my mind, this is worse than the dog. It was intentional. I agree with them, and after a week, I muster up the courage to call him and break up officially, though we had been rocky, and I think he knew it was coming. I said the words 'I want to break up with you' three times, and each time it got ignored. He begged me to at least go on a break for a few weeks. To give us a chance. I conceded, and decided to sit on it. Much to my surprise, the next day at 3pm I receive the following text from him: "Its over. I'm breaking up with you." I responded, "you're texting me this?", and he said (and I quote), "I can pull the trigger unlike you. Neva cared." NEVA CARED????? That's why you cried for hours?
Well a few hours after he sent those messages, he told me he started to really regret his actions. He called his friends, and they all told him he was stupid, and then he told me he cried again for another 2 hours. He called me later that night and begged me to get back together and go back onto the break, to which I obviously declined. I told him I would not be getting back together with him, but that I would talk to him in two weeks.
This is where, once again, the story becomes really funny. Yesterday I received a tag on a TikTok video from his account posted two years ago. The comment was asking if we were still together, but I thought it was really strange because I never met the person, and they were tagging me on a super old video. My boyfriend, of course responded to the comment and said "we are broken up as of now, but we are going to talk in two weeks". This struck me as really fishy. I called my boyfriends best friend about it, and we came to the conclusion that it was my boyfriends own alt account, and he crafted the comments to get my attention, and probably to remind me that he's thinking about it. Extremely manipulative, but also soooooo funny. That was my final straw. I knew I needed to tell my story, because everything that happened was so fucking crazy.
Also, just for fun, he told me the reason he didn't interact with my friends at my house is because they are "reasonable attractive and he knows how he is with girls, and he didn't want to accidentally flirt with them". He also has no female friends, and no desire to have any. He told me he "wasn't dating me for my looks" and that he doesn't want to date anyone "too attractive". This is the tip of the iceberg, but honestly I don't regret any of it, just for the humor of it all.

I’m stumped and would love some ideas/inspiration for this massive foyer. This is the first floor of my house (in coastal North Carolina), and it’s the first room you see when you walk into the home. The windowed door is the main entrance.
I already have a living room that I use and don’t need another. Some ideas I considered were: 1] a (classy) indoor bar with a beach vibe; 2] a hotel-like foyer with some club chairs and low tables, and/or 3] running a low stretch of shallow cabinetry along the wall for more storage.
Not wanting to go entirely form over function, I was hoping to give the room 2-3 purposes while 1] still coming off as classy/elegant; 2] adding visual interest to this giant, rectangular box; and 3] playing down the low-ish ceiling height.
I love British-colonial décor and ‘bringing the outdoors inside’ if that helps.
Would appreciate your suggestions!

Hey VT people!
Reporter here with the public radio business and economics show Marketplace.
I used to work for VPVermont Public (and did an AMA last year about my work there), but I moved over to this gig at Marketplace a couple months ago – and I’m still based in Vermont.
Anyways, I’m working on a story about how larger electric vehicles (like SUVs and trucks) are growing fast in the EV market. This idea originally came up when Chevy announced this spring that it’s discontinuing production of the Bolt, one of the smaller, more affordable EVs on the market. And this is part of a larger trend: Most EVs sales in the US are now SUVs.
So, to illustrate this, I’m hoping to find someone who’s in the market for – or recently bought – a larger EV. Could be an SUV, a truck, maybe one of those electric Mustangs. If that’s you, and you’d be open to speaking with me for this story, let me know. DMs are open.
-Henry Epp