Pole barn house plans

hey y'all, back again with another post.
To start this off, I'm a young man. I don't really like giving my exact age on here, so I'll just say I'm under 21, but not a minor. I've been working on deepening my relationship with and getting closer to the Lord, something that has been a huge battle between my spirit and flesh, but one that I'd consider myself to be winning... albeit gradually. I still have so much to work on and I'm constantly trying to figure out how to.
My journey towards becoming a Godly man (if that's really possible) has also led me to begin wondering about the seemingly difficult concept of dating in a faith oriented setting. I do believe in dating to marry, actually I always have. There has never been even a single moment of my life where I've been interested in anything but that. I'm the kind of guy who has zero interest in flings, or leading someone on, off and on relationships, or any other bogus. I've always wanted to find one young woman to do life with, because to me that is what a relationship should be.
With that having been said, how do I go about this? Is there some magical way of finding someone? I've done a little searching on here and some of y'all mention dating websites or apps, going to church, or just anything and everything that could lead me to who I'm looking for, but what are the odds of actually finding someone? with my luck, it seems like any church I'd go to wouldn't have anyone around my age group. I'm open to the prospect, but it appears to be a wild goose chase. Another major issue I see playing in is this: I feel like a lot of the Christian girls my age are in college, and I'm not, so it makes me wonder if my chances are already very heavily reduced. Add in the fact that I am looking for one with no desire to have children, is unable to have them, or is leaning towards not having them, and we have what I'm gonna call the "terrible trifecta" in regards to Christian dating. why do I not want kids, some might ask? Without going into much detail, I'm just not cut out to be a dad, something that has too many reasons why to list here. I think it's much better to find that out now than later and break someone's heart about it. This begs the question: Do Christian women who don't want to/can't have kids even exist? If so, where do I find them, and how? I tend to just assume that all of them do, because we are the group of people who seem to usually want them. I just wanted to say that I have absolutely nothing against those who do, men or women, but it's just not for me. Childfree Godly ladies deserve love too, and I'm out here looking for one.
On the other hand, a large part of me sadly wonders if I should even bother with dating, at least right now. I'm not currently where I want to be in life, and know that it will take me many years to get there. I have this kind of mentality where ideally I need to mold myself into the kind of man that the woman I'd be hoping to find would be looking for... but is this realistic, or could I grow with her, together, to become who we want to be, or who God wants us to be? I have many goals, including being financially independent, more fit/stronger, obviously a house of my own, and even deeper in my walk with the Lord... among other goals, but I know that this is far from an overnight thing. I just have to wonder if this will obliterate any chances of me finding someone.
I've heard the saying that if you aren't happy alone, you won't be happy in a relationship. I've experienced both, and I'm happy in either, my longest relationship having been over two years long, albeit with an unbeliever. I ended it because we just weren't fit for each other in so many ways, like very different views on moral and religious issues, that I was never blind to but ignored until I couldn't any longer. I was young and dumb, and now I've learned pretty much exactly what I want, and what I don't. I'm grateful I never gave in to fornication, so I'm still "pure" in that respect, but I have done everything but that, something that I wish I could go back and undo. I've been single for about a year and three months now, and I still wonder to this day, and always will, if God was the one who led me out of that relationship so that he could lead me back to him. I trust him and the plans he has for me, but I just want someone to do life with, and all that comes with it.
I would love to know what y'all think of this, and would love to receive any tips, advice, encouragement, wisdom, anything ya got. I'm also looking for some peeps to be friends with, because I have so few of them.

We are a couple working in London and plan to have kids next year, looking to buy a house and see some in the heelands and oldbrook areas, how are they like? I read older posts and these are places to avoid. We visited a few times during the day and they are pretty nice. Any locals around here with some insights?

I got a questions for those who are only child and can relate and give me advice.
I lost my mom 3 days ago and she was all the family I had I'm 25 going on to 26 in June and while we have many family friends and my girl and my best friend were their for me I still feel alone. My father and me hate each other and he hates her didn't show up to the funeral.
My question is did I do good. My mom died at a party she was a very sickly lady and I always told her to chill and relax and to take care but she always loved to party even at 64. She drank some vodica and took some zans and didn't wake up. I got the valley at 3am on Saturday and we warped everything up by Tuesday.
Me and my mom were dirt poor in and out of friends homes some times hitting a good streak and living in apt. But once I moved away to find a better job to help her she decided to live with the closet friends we had that were family.
I was always busy so I didn't see her much and she would always call me. But I worked over time saving up a little dime to give her a life she deserved. The last time we spoke it was 3 hours before she died. The last thing she told me was that she loved me very much and couldn't wait to see me next week and I told her the same.
But I feel nothing but regret and hatred and shame for myself cause I couldn't do more she died poor. And I gave her money as much as I could range every month between 200$ to 3k for 4 years but I was alone doing this by myself.
What I think I'm asking for was did I do good was she proud of me, everyone says she alway talked about me since I out classed all the other kids I am the most successful having my own business and was planning to buy a house soon to bring her with me etc. But why do I feel like I failed I always wished for a older sibling to help me but my parent silpt after I was born.
I have a older sister from my dad side who loves my mom as much as me but she lives in Cuba and didn't have papers.

I (37f) and my husband husband (42m) live in CA. Most of the state is liberal, but in rural areas, there are pockets of very conservative people. My husband is from one of those pockets. Over our 14 year relationship, there are some topics we do not discuss to “keep the peace.”
Tonight we had open house at our 6 y.o. son’s school. While there, son had to go to the bathroom and husband went in with him. Inside, there was a feminine hygiene dispenser. Husband called me to ask me why the dispenser needed to be in the bathroom mean for boys ages 6-12. I shut down the conversation knowing where the conversation would lead.
Husband came home and was upset with me that I didn’t want to talk to him about this important topic that is upsetting him. Against my better judgment, we had the conversation and surprise surprise the biological boys are boys and girls are girls speech was given. My response was “which bathroom is a transgender person supposed to us?” His response was biological gender and that any parent who allows their child to believe they are anything different at that age is encouraging gender dysmorphia and are not fit to raise children.
Tomorrow is our 13 y.o. son’s open house at the middle school and he plans to ask the teacher why it is acceptable for a boy to change in the girl’s locker room for pe. Transgender is not an answer for him.
To say the least, the conversation ended with him storming out of the room asking as he left if tomorrow will result in another fight and me in tears.
AITA?

Like many of us here, I was always planning to FIRE with no particular pause between FI and RE... I remember telling my financial advisor "I'm in it to win it, and once I've won I'm done." But I hit all my FI savings goals in 2021 at just about the same time as a nervous breakdown got me, and as I limped back toward recovery from that I (surprisingly) got a really interesting job offer within my own company that would let me take a leave of absence and then come back to work part-time. It was too perfect to pass up, in a year where I was really too exhausted to leap into reinventing a life anyway.
So I took three months off, which was an adventure of its own, and started the cycle of "eh, maybe One More Year". The economy hasn't been great anyway, so holding off a little bit on starting to pull from my capital seemed like an okay idea even if I wasn't saving anymore.
What I'm finding is that these are days of tremendous financial freedom. I still have much of my old income but now I don't need to save (I'm still saving some, maxing out my pre-tax and post-tax 401(k)). It's like holding a firehose full of money that I can now point at whatever I want, because I don't have to be filling up my own little bucket anymore. And at work, in the absence of worrying about getting laid off or whatever (meh, if it happens it happens), I can just focus on the people and on finding ways to enjoy it... not that I always succeed, but sometimes? I think I'm doing better with practice.
Here's how that's gone. The first year (2022) I mostly saved up money pretty aimlessly, until dear friends of mine suddenly had a need to buy out their neighbors in a 2-family house they were in. They weren't entirely prepared for that, and the rule of thumb seems to be that one should have 25%-40% of net worth in real estate -- which I was way, way under, at more like 10% -- so I went in halfsies with them and now we're renting the other unit out together. Rental income feels pretty great when it rolls in, and is definitely going to soften the blow of losing the big corporate income when I finally RE.
The second year (2023) I realized that I could do a philanthropy thing that, thus far, I'd only ever planned to do in my will, and pay my college back for all the grants it ever gave me. Doing it early as a scholarship fund is actually way better -- lots of the good from it will happen in my lifetime when I can hear about it. So I got them to give me the numbers, ran them through an inflation calculator -- that was the painful part -- and found I could indeed do it in a single calendar year. And I'm doing it. Tomorrow I kick off the first of two stock donations.
What next? Will I stay for 2024? I don't really have a good idea for 2024 money yet, but if this rental property thing goes well for me and my co-landlords we could definitely consider expanding to another property together. I could do a more extreme "earn to give" year, or do something nice for my aging parents. Or yes, I could just inflate my nest egg. I really only need one good idea per year, so I'm not worrying too much about it; corporate life is wild, and if my current manager leaves then this phase might be over.
It's much more fun than I expected though. So very fun. I never planned on this stage of life at all, but it suits me. Is anyone else out there in OMY and actually liking it? And what are you doing with your income if so?

Okay, sometimes you just have to laugh at absurd things in life, right?
For context : I was adopted as an infant, grew up in a house with my Amom's bio nephew. My "brother" pretty thoroughly traumatized me, they didn't really do shit about it. Aparents now act mystified that I'm not as close to them.
A theme a lot of us infant-adoptees seem to pick up on is the thought "why did your sign up for this? Did you not realize what it meant?" Or variations thereof.
So Amom had spontaneously reached out/minor attempted to guilt trip me tonight, and after a brief back-and-forth she tells me they're getting a yorkie puppy. it's not even there yet and she is talking about getting a note emotional support animal litter so she can take it everywhere. but like, we had dogs as a kid, they live in the country, they have never been the type to take dogs anywhere much less clean they are for emotional support. So I ask why she plans to do that now, and she said because they won't always be able to be home to take care of it, our uncle (who sadly died from Covid) used to help out and that is what helped them have pets.
Yorkies are fine, but she would pick a yorkie, eh?
I'm choosing to laugh at how people find the strangest ways of acting consistently.

Hi,
I got a macys credit card when I moved to US few years ago. I was not aware of the credit system. There was an issue with the payment cycle at Macys. I have cleared my balance multiple times at macys store. Yet they would hit me up with a penalty month over month. I gave up after a point. Looks like it dinged my credit score pretty bad which I was not aware. Now I am planning to get my house financed and I see this is costing me a fortune. I have raised a dispute with credit bureau. I dont know what to do.
I am very certain if they open up the video recordings at macys (I know its not possible), they would clearly see me telling the person at the counter to clear everything against my card. Yet every time, they charged me. I was sick and tired of them. What are my options here?
Also is there a way to boost my credit score by 20 points (this will bring down my loan %) in few weeks?

My boyfriend (21M) and I (21M) have been together for just over one year. I’m happy to have found someone who prioritizes conversation over avoidance, but there are some issues that have me feeling conflicted.
To provide some context, we went through a rough patch from October until around March where he admitted to being unintentionally heated and excitable. When I told him that I didn’t want to attend his Halloween get-together since his friend who mistreated me was invited, he was angrily storming around the house and causing a commotion. In his eyes, I was derailing the plans he had set for around a month. I told him that he could still host the event without me there and even consoled him through all of the screaming and hurtful comments directed toward me.
He promised to never blow up on me again, but this past March on the night before my birthday, he started creating issues due to emotions he perceived I was having. He was borderline yelling at me over something that I wasn’t feeling in the first place. I had to plead with him to help him understand that he often dictates how I’m feeling in a conversation and runs with it before I have a chance to fully explain myself. I further stated that it’s difficult to come down from those moments since he is certain that what he’s thinking must be true.
Whenever we have serious discussions about something that has gone wrong or is bothering us these days, he still places labels on my emotions before I can fully express or identify them. He said that telling me how I feel is how he empathizes with me and that I need to accept his communication style since he has no malicious intent. I’ve explained that even though he has changed and has better control over his temper, I still don’t feel comfortable with being told how I feel before I have the chance to state my perspective on a situation (especially because of our past).
For example, he recently told me that he processes things differently when we talk and how I need to understand. We were having a disagreement just a few days after he had been candid with me, so I figured it would be the perfect time to try and apply what he requested of me. When I was doing my best to incorporate what he has told me in the past to understand why he may have misinterpreted what I was trying to say, he interrupted to say that I was over-analyzing his brain and that I’m controlling how he talks because of this. He once again assumed I was mad when he would’ve known that I wasn’t had he waited an extra minute or two.
Am I wrong for asking him to use different wording and to stop telling me how I feel? I have no problem with him thinking that I feel a certain way, but I would rather him seek clarification or ask questions rather than escalate the situation and make me feel bad about something that I could have explained is untrue or different right from the jump.

Anyone have any good plans for a basic dog house for two 45-60lbs dogs? It gets down into the -10°f in the winter so I'm hoping for something that can help the pups stay warm in those times.

CHP1: Robyn Charlemagne, a vivacious 18-year-old with cascading chestnut curls, slipped through the smoky haze of the private back room in a popular southern California nightclub. The room was cloaked in an air of mystery, its walls adorned with crimson velvet curtains and dimly lit by chandeliers dripping with crystal teardrops. The soft strains of jazz music floated through the air, mingling with the raucous laughter and clinking glasses from the main club area. Tonight, the clientele was a sea of fancy dress and inebriated youth, their inhibitions drowned in the intoxicating mix of alcohol and euphoria.
Robyn, dressed in a figure-hugging black cocktail dress, had dreams of becoming a successful actress. However, her current reality consisted of serving patrons in the upscale restaurant known as "The Golden Elysium," where the elite of Hollywood often dined. It was a place where whispers of fame and fortune danced in the air, mingling with the scent of truffle-infused delicacies.
Meanwhile, Caspian Mortcombe, a dashing and enigmatic film producer in his early thirties, cut a striking figure amidst the crowd. With his commanding presence and sharp jawline, he exuded an air of regal authority. Caspian had recently acquired a reputation for his underground noir films, casting a shadow on the mainstream industry. In search of fresh talent for his next project, he found himself drawn to the allure of this bustling nightclub.
Robyn's naive charm and captivating beauty caught Caspian's discerning eye, and he saw potential in her untapped talent. As he approached her, his dark eyes pierced through her, conveying both power and dominance. He wore an impeccably tailored suit, an extension of his personality, that spoke volumes about his wealth and influence.
The room was guarded by a bouncer, known simply as "Big John." A towering figure with a shaved head and a muscular build, he was a black mountain of strength. Caspian had made sure to slip him some extra cash to ensure their privacy in this secluded space. Big John maintained a watchful eye, ensuring no interruptions disturbed the affairs unfolding within these velvet-draped walls.
As Caspian engaged Robyn in conversation, his magnetic presence captivated her impressionable heart. The allure of the silver screen beckoned, and Robyn found herself drawn into Caspian's web. He regaled her with tales of his past successes, painting a vivid picture of a world far beyond the glimmering lights of the nightclub. Robyn's airheadedness and dreams of stardom made her susceptible to Caspian's charm, her aspirations blinding her to the underlying motives driving his interest.
Their encounter unfolded against the backdrop of a time when grunge music and flannel shirts defined the alternative culture of Southern California. It was a world where wild house parties and underground clubs whispered secrets of rebellion and freedom, carving out a space for artistic expression in the heart of an industry dominated by conformity.
In this dimly lit room, where dreams clashed with reality, Robyn and Caspian's lives collided. The stage was set for a seductive dance of power, ambition, and manipulation, the boundaries between desire and exploitation blurred. Little did Robyn know that this encounter would mark the beginning of a twisted journey, a tale woven with passion, deceit, and shattered dreams.
As the night wore on, and the echoes of jazz music faded into the early morning hours, Robyn and Caspian found themselves tangled in a dangerous game, oblivious to the consequences lurking in the shadows. And behind the velvet curtains, the secrets of the night whispered their unholy promise, sealing their fates in a world where passion and ambition intermingled, where nothing was as it seemed.
The private back room had become a secret haven for Robyn and Caspian. Their clandestine meetings unfolded like a carefully choreographed dance, fueled by their shared desires and ambitions. Robyn's infatuation with Caspian grew with each passing day, as he expertly played the role of mentor and seducer.
Caspian, aware of Robyn's impressionable nature, used his position of power to mold her into his ideal actress. Under his tutelage, she blossomed, her raw talent and beauty refined through his guidance. He pushed her limits, pushing her to explore the darkest corners of her emotions, blurring the line between fiction and reality.
As Robyn's days at "The Golden Elysium" turned into a blur of serving plates and nodding at patrons, her nights became an intoxicating whirlwind of auditions, rehearsals, and stolen moments with Caspian. The boundaries of their relationship were hazy, a web of desire, control, and artistic collaboration.
Meanwhile, the enigmatic Big John kept a watchful eye, guarding their secrets as if they were his own. His imposing presence served as a constant reminder of the shadows lurking behind their glamorous facade. Caspian had ensured their privacy with a hefty sum, and Big John remained steadfast in his loyalty.
CHP2: One fateful evening, as the neon lights of the nightclub flickered outside, Robyn found herself alone in the back room. Caspian had promised her an important announcement, one that would change the course of her life forever. The anticipation hung heavy in the air as she waited, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.
The door swung open, revealing Caspian's commanding figure. His eyes, usually filled with intensity, now held a hint of vulnerability. Robyn sensed a shift in their dynamic, a subtle change that made her pulse quicken.
"Robyn," Caspian began, his voice tinged with emotion, "I've secured a role for you in my next film. It's a daring, provocative project that will challenge your limits as an actress."
Robyn's eyes widened with delight and apprehension. She had longed for this moment, to step into the spotlight and leave her mark on the silver screen. But as Caspian detailed the role, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was amiss. The character was complex, enigmatic, and dangerously close to mirroring her own life.
As rehearsals commenced, Robyn found herself diving headfirst into the depths of her character's psyche. The lines blurred further, reality intertwining with fiction in a dizzying dance of passion and manipulation. Caspian's influence over her grew stronger, his control tightening like a vice around her fragile dreams.
But as Robyn delved deeper into her role, the shadows surrounding Caspian began to unravel. Whispers of his questionable tactics and dubious alliances reached her ears, casting doubt upon their once-promising collaboration. The world of underground noir cinema revealed itself to be a treacherous labyrinth of deceit and power plays.
And so, Robyn stood at a crossroads, torn between her burning desire for fame and the nagging doubts that gnawed at her conscience. The allure of the silver screen had drawn her into a dangerous game, one where the line between passion and exploitation was blurred beyond recognition.
CHP3: Robyn stood before the ornate vanity mirror, her reflection fragmented in a sea of gleaming glass. The weight of uncertainty pressed upon her shoulders as she prepared for another day of shooting Caspian's provocative film. The character she portrayed consumed her, merging with her own identity until she could no longer distinguish where the role ended and she began.
On set, the atmosphere crackled with tension. Caspian's domineering presence loomed, his eyes scrutinizing every movement, every line delivered by the actors. The crew whispered in hushed tones about the mysterious underbelly of Caspian's productions, tales of compromising compromises and blurred ethical lines.
As the cameras rolled, Robyn surrendered herself to the role, surrendering her soul to the art of deception. The character demanded sacrifice, extracting fragments of her true self with each take. The passionate scenes with her co-star ignited a tempestuous fire within her, further blurring the boundaries of reality.
Yet, amidst the chaos, Robyn's intuition screamed for her to break free from Caspian's grasp. Doubts gnawed at her spirit, reminding her of the stories she had heard, the warnings whispered by those who had fallen victim to Caspian's manipulations. But her dreams of stardom held her captive, the allure of fame weaving a seductive spell around her vulnerable heart.
One evening, after a particularly intense scene, Robyn found herself alone in the dimly lit corridor outside her dressing room. She gazed at her reflection in a nearby mirror, searching for traces of the girl she used to be. Her eyes, once bright with innocence, now reflected a flicker of uncertainty and defiance.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the door to her dressing room creaked open, revealing Caspian's imposing figure. His face, once a mask of control, betrayed a glimpse of vulnerability. He took a hesitant step toward her, his voice tinged with a mixture of regret and desperation.
"Robyn, I never meant for it to be like this," Caspian began, his voice laced with a fragile sincerity. "I have made mistakes, pushed boundaries, but it was all in pursuit of creating something truly extraordinary."
Robyn's heart wavered, torn between the remnants of affection she held for Caspian and the growing realization of the toxic dynamic that had ensnared her. She mustered the strength to meet his gaze, her voice filled with a newfound determination.
"Caspian, I can no longer ignore the whispers that surround you," she declared, her words resonating with newfound courage. "I refuse to be a pawn in your game, sacrificing my sanity and self-worth for the sake of art."
Caspian's face contorted with a mix of anger and desperation, his grip on control slipping like sand through his fingers. He pleaded, his voice desperate and raw.
"Robyn, you don't understand," he whispered, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I can make you a star. I can give you everything you've ever dreamed of."
But Robyn's resolve remained unshaken. She stepped back, reclaiming her autonomy, her voice steady and unwavering.
"I'd rather carve my own path, even if it means sacrificing the fame you promise," she asserted, her spirit ignited with a newfound sense of liberation.
As Robyn walked away from the suffocating grip of Caspian's influence, a weight lifted from her shoulders. She embraced the uncertainty of the future, determined to forge her own destiny in a world where art and integrity could coexist.
CHP4: Robyn's decision to break free from Caspian's grip marked a turning point in her life, but the aftermath was far from the fairy tale she had envisioned. The offers that flooded in were not the golden opportunities she had dreamed of but instead invitations to auditions for seedy productions that prized her physical attributes over her talent.
Determined to make a name for herself on her own terms, Robyn reluctantly stepped into the world of auditions, finding herself in dimly lit rooms with questionable characters. One such audition led her to the doorstep of "The Velvet Rose," a small production company that specialized in adult films masquerading as art.
The setting was a dilapidated warehouse, transformed into a makeshift studio adorned with flickering neon lights and tattered velvet curtains. The air hung heavy with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap perfume. Robyn, dressed in a simple black dress that contrasted with the flamboyant costumes around her, entered the room with a mix of trepidation and determination.
The director, a sleazy middle-aged man named Marcus, oozed an air of false charm as he beckoned Robyn forward. His leering gaze made her skin crawl, but she swallowed her discomfort, determined to prove her talent transcended the grim circumstances.
The audition scene called for Robyn to showcase vulnerability, to bare her soul under the guise of artistry. As she performed, her words filled the room, carrying a poignant truth that momentarily silenced Marcus's predatory gaze. But the spell was broken as Marcus cut her off, his expression morphing into a lewd smirk.
"Not bad, sweetheart," he sneered. "But let's see if you're as good in other... aspects."
Robyn's heart sank as she realized the true nature of this production. She had unwittingly stumbled into a den of exploitation, where talent and integrity took a backseat to the basest desires. With a sense of resignation and a flicker of defiance, she mustered the strength to walk away, leaving behind the suffocating atmosphere of "The Velvet Rose."
Undeterred, Robyn sought auditions in different corners of the industry, hoping to find a glimpse of genuine artistic expression. But time and again, she encountered the same bleak reality—a world where her talent was overshadowed by the allure of her physicality.
In a seedy underground theater called "The Midnight Masquerade," Robyn found herself surrounded by performers who had long lost their dreams to a cycle of vice and indulgence. The stage was set for a twisted cabaret, where darkness and desire entwined in a grotesque ballet of desperation.
The director, a jaded man named Vincent, exuded an air of faded glamour as he navigated the tangled web of his performers' lives. Each audition felt like a performance within a performance, as Robyn tried to impress Vincent while disguising her own crumbling spirit. But the allure of the Midnight Masquerade was tainted, a haunting reminder that her journey had taken a detour into a world she never anticipated.
Robyn's encounters with these seedy production groups became a mirror of her own unraveling dreams. With each rejection, she felt the weight of compromise pressing upon her, threatening to extinguish the spark that had once ignited her passion for acting.
As Robyn navigated the grim underbelly of the industry, she found solace in the fragments of genuine connections she forged with fellow actors. In the midst of this dark landscape, she discovered kindred spirits who yearned for artistic integrity as fervently as she did. Together, they formed a small collective, vowing to support one another and create their own path forward, away from the shadows that had swallowed their dreams.
CHP5: The collective formed by Robyn and her fellow actors had become a lifeline in the tumultuous world of seedy auditions and compromised dreams. Their bond grew stronger with each passing day, their shared experiences forging an unbreakable connection. They sought solace in late-night conversations, their voices echoing through dimly lit cafes and hidden speakeasies.
Amidst their collective struggle, a glimmer of hope appeared on the horizon—an opportunity to perform at "The Twilight Theater," a renowned establishment known for its commitment to artistic excellence. The theater's marquee, adorned with sparkling lights, beckoned to those who craved authenticity in a world of smoke and mirrors.
Excitement filled the air as Robyn and her companions prepared for their debut on the Twilight stage. The backstage area buzzed with energy, costumes strewn about, makeup artists applying final touches to anxious faces. The scent of anticipation mingled with the hum of the crowd beyond the velvet curtains.
But fate, with its capricious nature, had other plans in store. A sudden tragedy struck, shattering the camaraderie that had blossomed within the collective. A devastating fire ravaged the Twilight Theater, reducing it to ashes and tears. Dreams were shattered in the inferno, leaving Robyn and her companions adrift, the ties that bound them abruptly severed.
Heartbroken and alone, Robyn found herself forced back into the seedy underbelly of the industry. Necessity became her cruel mistress, driving her to take a job on a film so deplorable that even the darkest corners of her imagination could not have conjured its horrors.
The production was called "Crimson Temptation," a vile amalgamation of exploitation and degradation. The set resembled a dilapidated warehouse, its once grandeur now decayed and repurposed for the darkest desires. The stench of desperation clung to the air, mingling with the sweat and despair of the cast and crew.
Robyn's character, Amelia, was a pawn in the hands of a sadistic director named Donovan. His presence exuded a sinister charm, his eyes gleaming with malevolence as he reveled in his perverse creation. Donovan's demands pushed Robyn to the brink, forcing her to perform acts that violated her soul, leaving her feeling tainted and broken.
In the depths of her despair, Robyn's spirit flickered like a dying ember, but a spark of resilience remained. She clung to it fiercely, finding solace in the memory of the collective she had lost. Their voices echoed in her mind, reminding her of the strength she possessed, urging her to fight against the chains that bound her.
With each degrading scene, Robyn's determination grew, transforming her pain into a simmering rage. She saw through the facade of "Crimson Temptation," recognizing it for what it truly was—a testament to the darkest aspects of human desire. And in that recognition, she vowed to reclaim her power and break free from its suffocating grip.
CHP6: The dimly lit alley behind the decrepit warehouse where "Crimson Temptation" was filmed served as an unlikely backdrop for an unexpected encounter. Robyn, her spirit bruised but not broken, found herself face-to-face with Caspian Mortcombe, the man who had once held both her dreams and her heart in his hands.
Their reunion crackled with tension, emotions swirling in the air like a storm waiting to break. The flickering streetlamp cast shadows across Caspian's chiseled features, emphasizing the intensity in his dark eyes. Robyn, defensive yet filled with a longing she couldn't deny, met his gaze with equal fire.
"You've stooped to new depths, Robyn," Caspian stated, his voice laced with a mixture of disappointment and concern. "Reducing yourself to this—"
Robyn cut him off, her voice tinged with regret and defiance. "You don't understand, Caspian. I never wanted this, but I had no choice. I'm fighting to survive in a world that's swallowed my dreams whole."
Caspian stepped closer, his voice softening with a mix of understanding and lingering desire. "I know the darkness of this industry, the compromises it demands. But you're capable of so much more, Robyn. I've seen it in you."
Their eyes locked, the intensity of their connection reigniting a long-buried flame. Robyn's heart yearned for Caspian's touch, his presence a reminder of the passion they once shared. A surge of desire pulsed through her veins, drowning out the doubts that had plagued her.
In that dimly lit alley, surrounded by the remnants of broken dreams, Robyn and Caspian gave in to their shared longing. Their bodies pressed against one another, their lips finding solace in a forbidden embrace. The raw electricity that had always existed between them crackled to life once more, their connection transcending the boundaries of reason and consequence.
As their bodies intertwined, the weight of their past dissolved, leaving only the present moment—their shared desire, their mutual understanding of the sacrifices made in the pursuit of their dreams. In that stolen moment, they found solace in one another, a respite from the darkness that threatened to consume them.
But as their passion ebbed and reality seeped back in, Robyn pulled away, a mixture of longing and regret etched upon her face. "We can't keep doing this, Caspian," she whispered, her voice filled with resignation. "The world we live in won't allow it."
Caspian's eyes bore into her, a mix of anguish and determination. "I refuse to let the industry define us, Robyn. Together, we can rise above its darkness and create something extraordinary. We can reclaim our dreams."
Robyn's heart wavered, torn between the love she still held for Caspian and the need to protect herself from further pain. But in that moment, a glimmer of hope flickered within her, reigniting the fire of her dreams. Perhaps, against all odds, they could find a way to navigate the treacherous path of their desires, where passion and artistry intertwined.
CHP7: The California coastline stretched before them, the crashing waves a symphony of freedom. Robyn and Caspian, drawn together by an undeniable force, found solace in stolen moments, their time together becoming a refuge from the chaos of their respective lives.
They sought refuge in a quaint beach house, nestled amidst a picturesque landscape of sandy dunes and rolling waves. The scent of salt lingered in the air, mingling with the intoxicating fragrance of blooming flowers. Here, they could escape the prying eyes and suffocating expectations of the industry that had brought them together once again.
In the golden hues of twilight, Robyn's laughter filled the air as Caspian recounted tales of their shared past, his voice a balm to her weary soul. Their connection, forged in passion and ambition, had stood the test of time, its flame reigniting with a fervor that defied reason.
But as their blissful respite carried on, the producer of "Crimson Temptation," a man consumed by jealousy and greed, grew increasingly restless. Donovan, a ruthless figure with a penchant for control, confronted Caspian one evening, the tension between them palpable.
"What do you think you're doing, Mortcombe?" Donovan sneered, his voice laced with venom. "You think you can just steal my budding starlet and get away with it?"
Caspian met Donovan's gaze, his own eyes blazing with defiance. "I'm not stealing anyone, Donovan. Robyn is not a possession to be claimed. We have a connection that goes beyond the confines of this industry."
Donovan's face contorted with rage, his voice seething with a dangerous edge. "Mark my words, Mortcombe. If you continue down this path, you'll regret it. I have the power to destroy everything you hold dear."
Caspian stood tall, his voice steady and resolute. "You underestimate us, Donovan. Love and passion are stronger than any threat you can conjure. We will not be controlled by your darkness."
As Donovan stormed off, the threat hanging in the air like a noose, Caspian returned to Robyn's side, his presence a shield against the encroaching storm. Their bond deepened with each passing day, their love an anchor in the tempestuous sea of the entertainment world.
Together, they vowed to navigate the treacherous currents of the industry, to create art that spoke to their souls and defied the conventions that sought to confine them. They became each other's muse, igniting creativity and passion with a single glance or touch.
In the late hours of the night, as the moon cast a silvery glow over their entwined bodies, Caspian whispered words of adoration, his voice filled with a mixture of reverence and longing. Robyn, her heart brimming with love, echoed his sentiments, their declarations intertwining like the intricate brushstrokes of a masterpiece.
CHP8: The weight of the industry's demands and expectations bore down upon Robyn and Caspian, threatening to extinguish the flame of their love and creativity. But in the face of adversity, they made a daring decision—to break free from the clutches of the entertainment world and forge their own path.
In the quaint beach house that had become their sanctuary, Robyn and Caspian hatched a plan. They would take their art into their own hands, reclaiming their creative freedom and sidestepping the suffocating constraints of the industry. Their vision became clear—they would create intimate and authentic films, placing their work directly into the hands of their audience.
With trembling excitement and a sense of rebellious liberation, they embarked on their new venture. They turned to a platform called "OnlyFans," a place where they could showcase their films without compromise. It was a risk, a departure from the traditional avenues of success, but they held onto the belief that true artistry lay in the hands of those who were unafraid to challenge conventions.
The beach house became their makeshift studio, a haven where their visions could come to life. Robyn's natural beauty radiated as Caspian captured her essence through the lens of his camera. Each frame whispered of their connection, their love and creativity intertwined in a seamless dance.
As they released their first independent film on OnlyFans, their audience responded with an overwhelming embrace. Their work resonated with those hungry for raw emotion and unfiltered storytelling. Robyn and Caspian became a symbol of artistic rebellion, a beacon of authenticity in an industry plagued by artifice.
In the intimacy of their digital platform, Robyn and Caspian found solace and empowerment. They were no longer subject to the whims of producers or the suffocating demands of the industry. Their art was created on their own terms, nourished by the connection they shared and the unyielding passion that burned within them.
As their independent films gained recognition, they became pioneers, inspiring other artists to reclaim their voices and redefine the boundaries of creativity. Robyn and Caspian reveled in the knowledge that they had escaped the clutches of the industry, creating their own world of artistry and freedom.
In the twilight of the beach house, with the sound of crashing waves as their soundtrack, Robyn and Caspian made a vow to one another—a vow to continue defying expectations, to never compromise their artistic integrity, and to forever choose love over the trappings of fame and success.
Together, they embarked on a journey of self-discovery and creative fulfillment, their spirits entwined as they blazed a trail of artistic rebellion. Their love, once threatened by the darkness of the industry, had found a refuge in their shared passion and unwavering devotion.
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To be Continued.......?

Hi guys. Long time lurker, first time poster here.
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I'm desperate for any advice. If this is the wrong subreddit I do apologize, this was the first place I could think of.
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I (f 26) live with my father (m 50's) and it's reaching a boiling point.
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I moved back in with my father after things were not going well when I lived with roommates, and even though stressors were high between me and my father, I thought I was truly seeing a better man.
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I was wrong.
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Ever since he kicked out his ex girlfriend literally just before Christmas and immediately got into another relationship, things have been beyond suffocating. Comments on my body, comments on my looks, refusing to let me cut my hair, refusing to let me leave since I'm so miserable here, and I'm tired of it.
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To answer questions I know some of you will have: Why not just leave?
That's why I'm posting, I need to know what steps I need to take to safely and quickly remove myself from this household.
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Does he have anything on you? I literally pay him for my car insurance. That's it. With my income and me being stuck at part time, it's incredibly difficult to afford the insurance amounts on my own when I could just give him a small amount of cash and it's covered.
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Do you have somewhere safe to go?
I have places that are options, but I need to discuss with the people in charge of said options. If those options are a no go, then I'm trapped in a prison cell with no effective way out.
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If your dad has been this bad, why did you come back?
Empty promises. He promised I'd never have to pay a single bill. I've been paying all of them except garbage, internet and rent. He promised I wouldn't have to pay a penny at all, and now he's expecting me to need to start contributing to a house we may not be staying in. Our lease ends at the end of July.
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I'm an adult, I know. It should be as easy as pack my things and go. And it feels easy ASSUMING these options, my friends, are open. I'm in a part of the country where I'm a decent drive from my friends, but I would do it, if I knew I had a get out.
I am planning on changing my number, cutting my hair, and finally embracing myself, which I can't do with him.
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I need advice. Is there something I'm missing? Is there an added step I need to consider? PLEASE HELP.

Peregrine the fairy has been the apprentice of his town's finest gem crafter for a little over a year now. He couldn't be happier with the position. He's always wanted to work in this field and to end up working under the finest? It was a dream come true. Not only was this his first visit to Stonewrought but he was being sent alone! His master had sent ahead with the order. He had been given the gold. All he has to do was inspect the product for quality, pretty much a formality at this point considering the dwarves' work, and then.. recover from the sale. He was happy that he was being trusted with this job but deep down he knows it's because his master didn't want to deal with that anymore. He isn't exactly young after all.
If he had been standing Peregrine would be just under a foot tall.. but he was currently sitting cross-legged on the front of the small heavily armored metal wagon that was being pushed along by the shimmer he was projecting behind it. The armoring for the jewel cart was almost pointless. Very few people want to provoke a fairy. Very few people enjoy exploding. Even going through a portal, he was still not sure how he felt about that experience, this trip had been going on for several days now. He was currently traveling up a well crafted smooth path cut deep into the mountain surface. He couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship on the bronze lanterns hanging from a pole every 20 feet or so. Nobody could top the dwarves when it came to metalwork.
A while later he came around a bend that had been obscuring his vision and finally could see the entrance to Stonewrought. A massive rectangle carved into a sheer face in the mountain. At least 100 feet tall. Even from where he was sitting he could see how elaborate the carvings were around the entryway. On either side of the entrance were statues of dwarves just as tall as the entrance itself. 2 holding rifles, 1 an ax and one raising a flagon. He had heard the story but barely remembered. Some great dwarven heroes of the past. Maybe they had something to do with that death nymph thousands of years ago? He had never been good at history despite his people's obsession with archeology. He only had eyes for jewels. Well..also that girl who worked at the bakery across from his gem shop.
As he approaches the city he passes between guard towers occasionally. From where he is sitting he can see the rifles leaning at the ready. All the dwarves at least wave and grin as he passes. Most raise flagons as way of greeting. It really was true about how much dwarves love their beer he is learning. He's seen a few in his life but never really approached them. Whenever they came to his village it was to visit the archaeological museum they had built just outside of town. It was by far their largest building..it was constructed so all races could enter and learn from what his people had uncovered. He hadn't been since he was a child and it was required as part of his education. All he really remembered was some old jewelry from the race who built the portals.
Finally he approaches the gate. As he was nearing it he had noticed the small windows with more riflemen in them between the carved entrance and the statues. 2 dwarves had approached from a guard house as he neared. The shimmer behind the cart vanished as he stopped to talk with the guards. "Fairy eh? Gem crafting business?" One dwarf said happily..but very loudly. The other was drinking. From where he was sitting he could see several kegs in their guard tower. "Yes! My first time here actually. I'm excited to see your city. I've heard it's amazing." He said earnestly. The dwarf who was drinking stopped long enough to scream "AYE!!!" while toasting then drank deeply to celebrate. "Who are you here to see? Do you know where you are going?" The first dwarf asked. Peregrine turned around and held out his hand. The several locks along the top of the cart opened in a shimmer and a parchment map floated out from among his supplies. It unfurled itself in the air where both him and the dwarf could easily view it.
"Actually yes! I'm going to MacIntyres. My master has this map he lent me. Marked it and everything." He gestures at the map with the glowing mark on a business deep in the city. "MACINTYRE!! He beat my brother unconscious in a bar brawl just last month. Great man. Had him 'round for dinner the next night." the dwarf roared happy as can be. Peregrine just stared. He had no idea how to respond to this. The dwarf didn't seem to mind his silence at all. "Well then! On your way I'm sure you have lots to do!" He said happy as ever. "AYE!!" yelled the other dwarf between drinks.
Peregrine waved happily as he recast his spell to start pushing the cart again. He still wasn't quite sure what to make of his first interaction with dwarves but they seem very nice. As he passed through the great entryway he looked up and around. He saw the large slots in the wall going all the way up. He had heard that the entire entryway had extremely strong iron gates that could be pushed out to seal off the city. He couldn't imagine metal work that large. Very quickly the pathway starts heading downward at a sharp angle. He quickly deactivates the spell pushing and cast another one in front of the cart to keep it from moving too fast as gravity pulls it down the pathway. As he moves down the path he can't help but marvel at the bronze and stone walls with their elaborate carvings.
After nearly 10 minutes of traveling deeper into the mountain he finally enters the city itself. He is in total awe. He can barely make out the mountainous roof of the miles and miles of city stretching out before him. How can all this be underground? How could they have carved all this? They don't even have magic! The buildings are all stone and metal yet very warm and inviting looking. All of them with elaborate carvings. He manages to gather himself together and waves his hand bringing the map back up to his side. He examines it and starts on his way down a beautiful street lined with shops. He looks at them in curiosity as he goes. Clothier. Shoe maker. Tavern. Butcher. Rifle shop. Tavern.
He rounds a corner into what the map tells him is the theater district. He has heard all his life about dwarven theater. He's always found it odd, and now that he has met some dwarves downright preposterous, that dwarves are the greatest playwrights and actors on Lumina. He's never actually seen a play put on by the dwarves but he has seen his people act one out. He has to admit the story was amazing. He is approaching elaborate doors on his right at the top of beautiful marble stairs. This must be their main theater. As he gets close people start flooding out talking excitedly. The play must have just ended. He stops to allow the crowd to pass and watches the people as he does. Mostly dwarves but he spots several other races in there. An entire group of gnomes pass by. He's never seen one of them before. A redhead in all green floats out of the door and he immediately recognizes her as a wood nymph. He's very taken aback by this as they rarely venture out of the forest. He has seen them in his village of course but his people have a unique relationship with them.
Even by wood nymph standards her flight is wobbly. As her and the young human female accompanying her get closer he sees she is openly crying. The human has a weird mix of exasperation and amusement on her face. "H..h..HE HAD TO CHOOSE!! Why did he have to choose Nyx??" She slurs at the top of her lungs, clearly drunk. Her friend, Nyx apparently, says "I know Abigail. It must have been so hard." Her tone is soothing but Peregrine can tell she's holding back laughter. As they pass out of view the wood nymph cries harder than ever and almost falls completely out of the air. The city is definitely not what he was expecting. Finally the crowd disperses and he's able to continue.
A few more turns. A few more streets. A dozen or so more taverns. He finally reaches the shop. There is quite a bit of debate among fairies in his village about who to go to for raw gems but his master swears by MacIntyre. Apparently their families have had a working arrangement for several generations. He parks his cart near the door and, wings fluttering, enters the shop. Walls. Tables. Cases. All full of gems. Despite how long he had been at this he doesn't think he has seen this many gems throughout his entire life. As he looks around a dwarven head appears in a window leading to another room. "You must be Peregrine!" The Dwarven male yells happily in a deep masculine voice. He disappears from the window and enters the room through a door nearby.. and the extremely large breasts take Peregrine by surprise. He had heard, with their beards, it was very hard to tell male and female dwarves apart but he never thought it would be this hard.
He quickly recovers from the shock. "Yes! Are you MacIntyre?" He says politely. "Mrs. MacIntyre! Normally my husband would handle this but he felt like heading to the tavern. Speaking of which! Where are my manners? Come! Come! We have everything ready for you." She says as happy as all the other dwarves have been. Peregrine flutters along behind her as they enter the room she had just left. Laid out along the extremely long table is the entire order. A years worth of raw uncut gems organized by type and size. He immediately begins flying towards the gems to begin his inspection but is cut short. "No! Where is the fun in that? Drink! Drink!" She shouts happily gesturing at the table on the far side of the room. There are six kegs on the table all together. Three of them are fairy size along with a flagon made just for his people. He knew this was coming. He does love their beer but.. not a lot of it. Hopefully he can get through this and somehow politely turn down a few drinks.
Wings beating quickly he flies over and fills his first flagon. As he drinks he does somewhat understand why the dwarves can't stop. During his 1 beer Mrs. MacIntyre drinks several herself. Finally he finishes his beer and it seems she's happy for the moment so they can get to work. He goes up and down the table, row by row, very slowly. He trusts their work but he wants to prove to his master he's really putting in the effort. He examines each gem both with his tools and magically. Every few gems she happily declares it's time for more beer. At first he's frustrated because he really doesn't want to drink but as time goes on he doesn't seem to mind anymore. As the beer starts really affecting him the conversation turns to relationships. She happily tells him about how she met her husband out in the forest when it turned out they had been tracking the same boar to hunt. He has very little relationship experience to discuss but ends up finding himself spilling his guts about the cute fairy who works in the bakery across the street.
"H..her WINGS!!!" he shouts, reminding himself of a dwarf. "So pink! S…so delicate! So SHAPELY!!" He flutters toward the kegs of his own free will this time. It takes him 5 tries to get the flagon under the tap. "D..don't get me wrong. I'm not that kind of fairy. I..I don..don't just look at a girl's wings" he adds worried about how he sounds. "Of course not! But we all notice things. You should see my husband handle a rifle.." Mrs MacIntyre says. As he goes back to work drunkenly, but still accurately, inspecting the gems he continues telling all about Rosalind. He talks about how often he goes to the window just to see if she's visible working. How he goes there everyday for lunch even though he doesn't particularly like bread. How his conversations with her are the best part of his day. "Well? Why not just tell Ms pretty wings how you feel?" she asks in the closest thing to a soft tone a dwarf seems to be capable of. "I…i…i…" and that's where things go a bit blank for Peregrine.
Next thing he knows he's waking up in a dwarvish room that's his size. He had been told to expect this. The dwarves long ago learned fairies were going to need some place to sleep off the beer and constructed these just for them. He slowly sat up, his head throbbing. "These…are not my clothes." he thinks to himself as he throws off the blanket. He decides to solve that mystery later as he looks around the room. He zeros in on a large jug of water with a set of glasses on the table against the opposite wall. He quickly gets up and attempts to fly to the jug but the beating of his own wings is just too much sound for his throbbing head. He makes his way to the jug and, ignoring the glasses, drinks the entire thing quickly. He makes his way to the door and slowly opens it and steps outside.
He sees his room was built halfway up a wall and he's now standing on a ledge. As he looks left and right he sees there are several more fairy rooms. "They really do like to be prepared.." he thinks. He walks to the railing along the edge and looks around. Judging by the normal sized doors lined up along the other wall he's in an inn. Just as he's coming to this conclusion a door opens at the end of the hall and a familiar face pokes its head into the room, sees he is awake, and smiles brightly before entering the room fully. "Well hello! You have been asleep quite some time." Mrs MacIntyre says in a voice softer than he thought dwarves were capable of. He is extremely grateful for this. "I don't remember how I got here. Or…these clothes…"
Mrs MacIntyre laughed loudly despite her attempts to keep quiet for his sake. "I myself brought you here. See those hinges on the wall? That lets us open the entire room. Your people usually need help getting in bed. As for the clothes…not long before you passed out last night you declared yourself to be lord of the gems. Your first proclamation was to outlaw clothing and then you burned yours. I have to say you are quite the dancer." Peregrine's face burns bright red in shame but he presses on. Part of him doesn't want to know but at the same time…he has to find out what else he did. "Did…I do anything else horrible?"
"Horrible?! Your dance was the highlight of my year! And besides..you seem to need to learn to loosen up anyways. Other than that we mostly talked about Rosalind. How much you love her. How scared you are to tell her. And….quite a bit about how you want to chew on her wings. You were very detailed about that." She smiled brightly as she said this as if she hadn't just said something even more terrifying than his clothing law. All he could do was lean on the railing and hide his face. "Don't be ashamed!! You opened up to me. You can with her as well. Well…maybe not about the wings just yet. But reading between the lines and speaking as a woman…from what you said of your conversations last night..it really sounds like she is interested in you as well"
Despite the shame he looks up hopefully. "You really think so?" He says quickly. She smiles and nods. "Last night we had quite the conversation about her love of the hanging bioluminescent vines along a lake near your village. She brings it up a lot you said. Silly fairy..she's been dropping hints about a date for months." His jaw drops. That…sounds very possible. The fear is still there but that has given him a lot of hope. "I…thank you.." he manages to say between his racing thoughts. "It's my pleasure Peregrine! Now..do you think you are ready to begin the trip home?" She says. This snaps him back to reality. The inspection! "Did I inspect the gems?" He asks quickly. "Inspected. Juggled. Danced with. Blew one up because it offended you somehow. Your master doesn't need to know. I already replaced it." More shame fills his tiny body but he tries to hide it. "Thank you.." he manages to say.
From there she leads him downstairs to the inns main room. They eat an amazing breakfast and she tells him more about the signs she noticed about Rosalind. By the time breakfast is over he is feeling rather confident. They make their way through the city back to her shop. His cart is still parked outside and she informs him they loaded it for him. They say their goodbyes and he thanks her from the bottom of his heart for her insight. As he is leaving the city he is barely paying attention to the journey. He's building an entire life in his head.

So I'm 27 years old and I've never had a girlfriend before. The longest I've ever talked to someone is 3 weeks and 4 dates (pathetic I know). Most women typically call it quits after 2 dates or about a week. However, this isn't the main point of the post.
I'm going to be willingly moving back in with my parents in 2 months once my lease ends. I've been living on my own the past 5 years, but I want to leave my current city and move back closer to where I grew up. Originally the plan was to live with them for about a month until I found an apartment I liked, but after talking to them more they said "why don't you just live here and save for a house?". They told me I'd have their basement to myself, which is pretty much the same size as my apartment anyway. It has a bedroom, living area, laundry. It's fully furnished. The only thing I'd ever have to leave the basement for is bathroom/kitchen.
I was initially against this, but after thinking about it and running the numbers I saw I'd be able to fully get out of debt and save $75K towards a house in just 1.5 years. Once I saw that it was the obvious choice. Plus I'd get the benefit of being able to spend more time with them. They're getting older and I haven't seen them much the past 5 years since I live 5 hours away. Plus they also have a pool.
Now I'm second guessing my decision however. I obviously have a billboard sized, blinking, waving, neon red flag and struggle with dating as is. I'm concerned if I live with my parents it'll kill the small chance of ever getting into a relationship. I feel like women will sprint the other direction when they find out. And by the time I buy the house I'll be pretty much 30 without ever being in a relationship and they'll keep on running.
I know I shouldn't really make decisions now based on a future relationship I might not even have, but I've always dreamed of having a family. Knowingly making a decision that'll shoot me in the foot is very discouraging, even if it is the smart move financially.

In the dream I was arguing with my mother. It seemed like I had been living with her and was waiting for the right time to move out. (In waking life, I've been out on my own for about a decade and my mom and I get along) Anyway, I left the house and went to a park. Apparently it was sometime shortly after my PhD graduation. I saw some of my classmates at the park.
Everyone was gathered there for a miraculous event. Little balls rained down from the sky. They felt like pebbles when they hit me, but I realized they were very tiny barn owls. As soon as they reached the ground, they grew to full size and flew away. There were so many barn owls everywhere. It looked almost like the end of the world. I remember someone saying they were glad they were owls and not vultures.
I also remember driving a luxury SUV and a few of the "pebbles" got in the car as I was getting out to walk in the park. When I came back to the car, there were three full-sized barn owls in the car. I opened the passenger door and they flew off the edge of a cliff. They flew with such force... their wings generated so much wind. Only then did it seem like I could finally be free and move out of my mom's house. What on earth does this mean?

I have been stepparent to my stepson once he was 4. He is now turning 16. He has had some concerning behavior over the years so this situation isn’t surprising, but certainly still hurts.
We are about a month away from hi 16th birthday, and I am the parent that always plans the parties. I asked him if he would like to have a party at our local (very awesome) local pool. He said yes. I asked him about details like colors for decorations, cake flavor , etc. He told me what he would like and so I arranged it and made him invitations to give to his friends. All seemed normal.
The next day or two, I asked if he had received any RSVPs from his friends. He said none of his friends could come. I was concerned and offered to change the date and time so his friends could make the party. He then said that he didn’t actually invite any of his friends. He isn’t very social and has never been invited to a sleepover or had friends to our house, so now I’m concerned that there is a bigger issue with friendships. My husband speaks to him and asks him about the situation and he just shuts down and won’t talk to us. So, we look at his phone to find out if something worse is going on. He’s been in trouble with his phone on a very regular basis so he is aware that we check it.
Turns out, he did invite his friends. They rsvp’d as yes. So he lied about that, which is baffling. Then he is telling his sister that he hates me and bio son (not sure why he was lumped in). He says that he never wanted a party in the first place and that he only agreed to it to “shut me up.” He called me fat and said that my husband needs to control me better and not let me plan things for the family. He also said that he doesn’t want myself and my bio son to go on family vacation ever again because we annoy him.
I have been in this kid’s life for 12 years and stood in there for him the whole time. I’m very hurt and flummoxed. I know that this is only my perspective, but that’s the only one I can speak from. Maybe someone here can help me understand his viewpoint. Is this just teenage angst? Where do I go from here?

Considering taking over this project. House looks typical quality for my area. Crawl spaces are usually neglected though, and this looks consistent with that. Noticed moisture on top of plastic, possibly soaking up foundation walls, despite dry weather and good slope away from house.
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The development was made on red fill clay, cut and fill. Should I be worried about ground water problems that could be lurking? (Even on a relative high point, and with grade sloping away from the house quite well). How can I explore this ground moisture issue more fully?
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I was planning to encapsulate, et al. Wondering what additional steps I can/should take to to keep this space dry?

Part One: There's Something Awful Happening in Morefolk : nosleep (reddit.com)
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You know who this is. Sorry for the long wait, and thank you for your patience. Yes, this is a new email address, though the reason for that should be obvious.
I have to hand it to the pigs. They're not as clueless as I believed. What I once thought were monkeys dressed in uniform flinging shit at the wall, are actually monkeys using rudimentary tools to fling shit at the wall. I'll admit, it's cute. Still, if Morefolk's finest thought that updating their firewalls, naming their files gibberish, and using monoalphabetic substitution ciphers for their file text was enough to throw me off, they're sorely mistaken. For one, firewalls aren't as effective when I've left a backdoor in the system for free access. Seriously, it's not that difficult to get into something once you've already been inside before. Not to mention... you seriously thought documenting stuff in some basic code would do the trick? That I wouldn't be able to convert it to plain text? At least do something a little sophisticated next time; might I recommend studying some old telegrams from wartime and seeing how they did things? Seriously, your tech department should be paying me for tutelage, your cryptography is weak. The only thing I can give you credit for, is that I haven’t found any information on the unnamed agency referenced in your files. I assume their documents are cataloged in their own, entirely separate database, which isn’t surprising. Still, the only reason another agency would be involved with you at all, would be to order you around behind the scenes like the bunch of lackeys you are.
Regardless, that has no bearing on whether YOU can keep me out of YOUR shit. I suspect you'll either throw out the system and start anew, or, the more likely approach you'll take, is to start cataloging your documents in analog style. Don't know, don't care. I've already got enough as is.
To say that I've got a lot to drop on you all would be an understatement, and a severe one at that. Not everything is going to be shown right here and now, but in time, all will be clear. I've been waiting patiently, meticulously crafting my strategy, waiting for the perfect moment to re-appear. Such is the price of truth in a world run by breaking news and hastily woven narratives. There are always dozens, hundreds, even thousands of hands intricately drawing each needle through each thread, until a net of lies and misrepresentations have been constructed and cast. Cast upon what? You all, the "helpless fish" adrift at sea, going where the tide takes you. Yet, you are not helpless. There is a hand outstretched towards you, and it is my hand. I offer you access to the one thing more valuable than the money or security they try to bribe you with.
I offer you access to reality.
Reality is, regardless of who witnesses it. Therefore, the optimal way to deny one access to reality is to remove their ability to witness, to see, to observe, and to ogle the beautiful essence of truth. Think, for a moment, about what it is that best achieves this goal of restricting your perception of reality. What is it, that is such an obfuscation, such an obstruction, and such a danger?
I'll tell you, it's the narratives. The news, the media, and the outlets, all serve as distractions. Do not be so naive as to think that the news is on your side. They actively serve the interests of the authorities and their agendas... and once you become privy to that fact, it's obvious. Still, you might find my claims to be dubious, so let's take a look together, shall we? Allow me to show you precisely what I am talking about.
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"Ellie Singleton, 33, Found Deceased in Home"
"The body of Ellie Singleton, 33, was found unresponsive in her home on Monday, January 23rd, 2023. Authorities arrived on the scene shortly after her husband, Barry Singleton, reported an incident that occurred that Monday night, around 4:47 AM. Although emergency services were quick to the scene, she was regrettably announced dead upon arrival at Morefolk Town Hospital at 5:09 AM. Detective Clark Casper, who arrived at the scene shortly following the incident, declined to comment. So too did Barry Singleton.
Although the nature of this incident remains highly unknown, its impact on our community is not lost on anyone. Plenty of tears were shed among friends, family, and loved ones, who all shared their sympathies with Mister Singleton. Ellie Singleton was expected to deliver her first child in the summer of this year. She very much had a love for children, and it wasn't uncommon for her to work as a substitute teacher at Morefolk Elementary. Many of the young students she taught and influenced took part in laying down flowers and paying their respects at the school, which hosted a memorial assembly in her honor. Ellie stood as a pillar of this community, doing what she could to ensure that future generations had a reliable shoulder to lean on. Now, a community stands as one, hearts torn apart for the Singleton family. This will surely be a day of much mourning and prayer."
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Innocent enough, right? Just a heartfelt news clipping in response to a horrific happening. A good old unifier of the people to get them through a trying time. Aside from that, there's not much to go off of, granted this was the first of what we now know to be murders. Let's continue.
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"Tragedy Strikes as 25-Year-Old Sasha Baker Was Found Dead In Her Bedroom"
"Onlookers littered the streets as Sasha Baker, 25, was peacefully wheeled out of her home the other night on Saturday, January 29th, 2023. Mothers, fathers, and children held hands in solemn silence as they watched, burdened with the great loss of their friend."
"It just doesn't make sense, she was young and healthy and happy, I can't even wrap my head around it," said Chuck Rivera, a long-time friend of Sasha Baker.
"This kind of thing doesn't happen in this town... it just doesn't," commented Ashley Sanchez, who was so disturbed by the death, that she had to be comforted by those around her.
"Morefolk police released a brief statement following the occurrence, with Sheriff Tom Mackey being quoted as saying, "We want you to know that our hearts are heavy, and this loss is weighing down on us, all of us. Sasha was a great woman. From the food pantries she hosted inside the church, to all the service work she did for our town, she always served as a positive influence on our youth. To us, she was family. A bright and optimistic woman we grew up alongside. Our thoughts and prayers go out to David Baker, and to any and all who are undoubtedly hurting at this time. We will be conducting an investigation into this incident, absolutely. I cannot confirm anything to you with certainty, but we have reason to believe that, well, this incident may have been the product of foul play. The chances of that being the case are low. Still, our officers are working diligently to ensure that this was not the cause of her death, because that, well, it would be heart-wrenching for all of us. Even more than it already is. We'll do what we can to keep all of you updated. Thank you for your time, and God bless you."
"At this time it is unspecified whether this event has any relation to the death of the late Ellie Singleton, who was found deceased in her home just a week prior."
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Would you look at that? Do you know what I see? Useless fucking platitudes. Thoughts and prayers don't mean shit to us. Not to mention how vague Sheriff Mackey was about the supposed investigation they were hosting. They "peacefully" wheeled her body out of the home? Perhaps it appeared that way with several white cloths and EMTs blocking the view of her corpse. I'm not entirely sure how the word "peaceful" could be applied to the remains of a woman who had her unborn child violently ripped out. Nor am I sure how there could be any ambiguity as to whether she was murdered or not. Now you go ahead and wonder why it is that they're using such passive and evasive language. Something tells me that you already know the answer.
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"Homicide Investigation Launched Following the Murder of Claire Summers"
"Town officials have confirmed that Morefolk Police are investigating the untimely death of Claire Summers, 28, which occurred on Wednesday, February 2nd, 2023, as a homicide."
"We are deeply disturbed by the passing of Claire Summers. The shock and sadness we are all going through cannot be understated. This is not an easy time for anybody," stated Sheriff Tom Mackey when asked for a comment about the recent development. "Our investigator's assessment of her death indicates to us that, regrettably, this was the result of a sick individual rather than a horrible accident or medical issue," continued Mackey.
"This revelation also came with an announcement from town officials that a curfew has been set in place. All citizens are to stay indoors after 9:30 PM, and all exceptions must be pre-emptively requested. Failure to abide by this regulation will be met with detainment, and offending persons may face criminal charges.
The investigation into Claire Summer's murder will incorporate the recently deceased citizens of Morefolk (Ellie Singleton, Sasha Baker) as police suspect those incidents may be related to this one. As of this moment, Kyle Summers has declined to comment.
Claire Summers, perhaps most well-known for her bakery located on Oak Way, will be remembered as sweetly as the goods she lovingly shared with us all. Not a single person would disagree that when in Claire's shop, smiles were formed and memories were made."
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Three people had to die for them to announce that they were being murdered. Three. Whole. People. Suppose for a moment, that you don't believe me or my leaks. That you don't believe that this was all the doing of a wretched ghoul with sadistic tendencies. Is it not still strange that it took this long for a homicide investigation to be publicly launched? Each death took place inside of the victim's home, while their husbands were sleeping in the same bed as them. Are we meant to believe that a killer did their dirty work, and the husbands just... didn't notice? Seriously? These fucking rats in blue think you're all idiots. They think that you won't connect the dots. Don't let them treat you like clueless animals. Do not allow them to be evasive about what's truly happening.
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"Morefolk Police Patrolling the Streets in Response to Most Recent Death"
"The killing of Jackie Middleton, 37, has unsettled Morefolk to its very core. Her death is another in a series of murders, now that the deaths of Claire Summers, Sasha Baker, and Ellie Singleton have been found to be connected. Morefolk police have decided to patrol the streets at night in response to this recent development, and the town curfew has been lowered to 9 PM."
"The safety of our town is our priority. We not only need to protect those of you living here, but find and prosecute whichever twisted individual is responsible for these crimes as soon as possible. We ask that you all cooperate with our curfew, and please, if you have any information that may be helpful to this case, contact us. Thank you," Sheriff Mackey explained when asked about his plan moving forward.
"When asked to comment on this tragedy, Jackie's husband Craig Middleton was quoted as saying, "There's not much for me to say at this time. The amount of hurt and devastation I'm going through can't be articulated. All I can say is that I hope our police force brings whoever did this to my family to justice."
"Furthermore, Kyle Summers, David Baker, and Barry Singleton requested to make a joint comment. The three men had also recently lost their loving wives, likely at the hands of the suspected killer involved in Jackie Middleton's murder."
"We've gotten together to support each other as of late. Things have been unimaginably hard to get through each day, but the condolences and support of all of you wonderful people have made it more manageable for us. We know we cannot change what happened, but we can, and must, address this problem before more lives are taken. Throughout these long, sleepless weeks, we've had the unequivocal support of the Morefolk Police Department. They have shown us great attention, care, and consideration. Most importantly, we know and trust that they will bring this murderer to justice. Please, support and believe in them, because they're doing all they can to fix this mess. Once again, we thank you for all the love and kindness you've given us. You all truly exemplify what it means to be wonderful neighbors, friends, and family."
"Jackie Middleton has always been an outgoing neighbor, working with Craig out of their small ice cream parlor on the nearby boardwalk. She'd often supply ice cream to nearby businesses for office parties and other celebratory events. Though store-bought ice cream would do the trick in a pinch, there was always something special about her delicious desserts that she made with the utmost love. To Morefolk, Jackie Middleton truly was the cherry on top."
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They aren't even trying to hide it, are they? Surely you all caught it as well. Suddenly, the husbands who have gone without comment for so long, all come together to give a statement. A statement with the takeaway message of trusting the police department.
Want to know an interesting little tidbit of information? The author of all those newspaper clippings is the same person. Guess who it was. Does the name "Phil Pratt" ring a bell? Morefolk's beloved journalist, who happens to be married to Jamie Pratt. As is common knowledge, Jamie Pratt's maiden name is Jamie Mackey... these articles were written by the Sheriff's son-in-law.
I couldn't make this shit up.
Still, I know what you're thinking. It doesn't matter who wrote those articles and what biases they have! That doesn't mean the contents of the texts themselves aren't perfectly rational. Of course the husbands took a while to comment, they've been through so much trauma! Obviously, they all came forward together because they've got something in common to commiserate over, they're serving as each other's support systems, right?
Sure, it all sounds plausible at first, but the more you think about it, the more what I'm saying adds up. Remember, the husbands weren't allowed to stay at their homes, because their houses had become a crime scene. Plenty of neighbors and family members offered them places to stay, but you know where they ended up? That's right, they ended up staying in the police station. Yeah, I know the reason given was that the police wanted to ensure the husbands were receiving attention to their mental health, but then why not have them stay at the hospital? Then there's the explanation that the police wanted them close by so they could aid the investigation. Still, is that something that would require them to eat, sleep, and drink at the station for almost all hours of the day? That doesn't add up, does it?
I'll tell you the real reason that accounts for these abnormalities. The police were keeping the husbands there to monitor them. To ensure they weren't freely spreading their stories. To prevent them from commenting on the situation until they could be fed a comment generated by the pigs themselves.
You should also consider the fact that, despite these husbands having been in close proximity to their wives at the time of the killings, they were never once considered suspects in the case. What could possibly account for that, other than the fact that the cops knew that someone else, or something else, was responsible from the very beginning?
Some of you won't ever believe me, and I acknowledge that. That doesn't take away from the fact that this whole debacle has been handled so unconventionally. We've been told that the police would keep us updated on their investigations, but what have they really given us? We've received no identifiable suspect, no autopsy reports of the deceased victims, and the newspaper is more focused on selling this bullshit "Unify and support the police!" narrative than focusing on the particulars of the deaths themselves.
Go ahead and tell me we're being kept in the dark for the sake of investigative confidentiality. Tell me I'm seeking to divide us and push some communist anti-police agenda in the midst of a community tragedy. Claim that I'm making mountains out of molehills. Here's all I have to say. Either you're with me, the people, and the truth, or you're going to be a mindless sheep, licking the boots of those keeping the real facts at bay. The time is coming to make a damn choice.
Don't worry, I've got so much more to share. I'm not done exposing the hidden truths I found in the police files I cracked. I am simply waiting for the most opportune time to release more of what I have. Be patient my friends, it will be worth it. Trust me, after you see what's coming next, you will be as angry as I am. This monster terrorizing our town isn't going to stop at pregnant women and their unborn children.
After all, it already has claimed more than just those set of victims. You all might be aware that little Dennis Bowers went missing within the last week. Guess what?
They're lying to you about what happened to him.
All of it is connected, and I know just when and where to show you. The next time you hear from me, it'll be in a... different medium. Something big is about to happen. I'm certain of it.
Signing off,
-J

I'm an 18 year old male and have a friend called Andrew, [fake name], who is a 19 year old male and is rather obsessed with the social media platform called 'TikTok.' I, myself, have never used the app because I think it can ruin an individual's attention-span.
Andrew and I were hanging out at my house yesterday and it had reached dinner time. I had asked him if he wanted anything specific because I was planning to order takeout. Andrew gave me a childish grin and told me he wanted a 'Journey of the over-thinking hooper' pizza.
I was extremely confused by what Andrew was referring to and he kept repeating it. His voice became louder and louder everytime he said this 'journey of the over-thinking hooper' crap. It had finally reached a point where I snapped at shouted at him to shut up.
Andrew had lifted his phone up and showed me a TikTok comment section filled with this absurd phrase. I asked him why on earth he considered something like that funny and he told me I 'wouldn't get it because I don't use the app.' I just grunted and ordered us some pizza until he left.
Now. He's texting me and telling me I was unnecessarily rude to him last night.
So reddit. AITA?