The knife box is overflowing and I have way more projects than I have time for. Time to send some knives to their next home.PP F&F. Yolo is king. Should be able to ship out by Monday at the latest. If I noted a scratch or wear I tried to catch it in the light in the photos. Album is in order of the post if you want to scroll the album. I haven’t been buying and selling a lot recently so hopefully my prices aren’t off.
Timestamp/album https://imgur.com/a/WO0Vv6d

Never Cut or Carried

The following have never cut or been carried and are in as new condition unless noted.
Orion Scorpio [$70]. https://imgur.com/dk5URzF https://imgur.com/rx1tsbL 14C28N blade. This is the Stonewashed/ Black Micarta/ Blue Accents variant. I got my hands on two and decided to let this one go. It's only been flicked open a few times. Comes with the box. Great little button lock.
WE Mini Malice [$195] https://imgur.com/q8rp7QZ https://imgur.com/MUdUkrV https://imgur.com/95V2WNN 20CV and black stonewashed titanium. I was going to strip the scales and anodize them, so that I could have the all black hardware and blade but I found a variant I liked more. I never carried or cut anything with it, but somehow it has a scratch on the clip. See photos.
Civivi Altus ($50) https://imgur.com/lm0ORBo https://imgur.com/jBocagv Wood scales. Into-V blade .When this came out I was excited for a civivi button lock. Flipped it a few times when it came in and put it back in the box. Nice knife for someone who likes what it has to offer!Civivi Cogent ($50) https://imgur.com/xWkYfjH https://imgur.com/55a6s1r Bought this because I was going to do a blade swap for jade/damascus, but it never happened. I’ve realized I’m not really a flipper guy. Awesome button lock. Never cut or carried.

Second Owner / Carried

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Demko AD 20.5 [$240] https://imgur.com/bqfJ5Am https://imgur.com/PZ4Ie4B https://imgur.com/HqFpbdu https://imgur.com/0OZ3Gqh https://imgur.com/dF08Q0U https://imgur.com/DziQf2g https://imgur.com/TUlXABK Choose your own adventure AD20.5 Comes with the clip point and sharksfoot blade in AUS10a. Wearing RSD linerless scales. Scales had a paisley pattern on them that I tried to even out with some careful anodizing but it didn't quite come out. Scales have a few snails on them as shown in the photos. Backspacer is a factory jade backspacer that I dyed minty green. I can swap it for a factory grey one if you prefer that and throw in the corresponding stock scales.
Spyderco Yojumbo [$160] https://imgur.com/9iqKJ5I https://imgur.com/F0GC0ON https://imgur.com/QDlPASe https://imgur.com/hn653ob S30V and G10. Second owner. Came to me in great shape and I never used it. I love the Yojimbo, but I am all about the pocket pouch life, and it’s just ever going in there. There are a couple tiny scratches on the blade. You have to hit them in the light just right to see them.
Sypderco Crucarta PM2 with S45VN blade ($140) https://imgur.com/TgQkUoE https://imgur.com/rJBxfFT Black deep carry clip with an s45VN coated blade. I bought it from someone who did a blade swap and didn’t realize what I was getting, so let me be very clear. Handle is from the Crucarta PM2 and the blade is S45VN. It’s in excellent shape as you can see in the pics. I bought it to mod but never touched it once I opened the box and looked at it.
Spyderco Manix 2 ($130) https://imgur.com/yx32v8y https://imgur.com/MCRZPcN https://imgur.com/NvMHuA3 https://imgur.com/Gr42kSN s30v coated blade. Has some scratches from use. You can see them when you move the blade in the light. Fang opener and bluejean micarta scales.
Paragon Warlock ($190) https://imgur.com/tjxJUA5 https://imgur.com/TAY5Tsm https://imgur.com/haR5Dc7 https://imgur.com/oguaeDE Second owner. Bought it to see what the lock is like. Fidgeted with it for a few minutes and now it’s your turn. Knife is in great shape as you can see from the photos. I haven’t cut anything with it or carried it.
Alliance Mini Slim Pickins ($275) https://imgur.com/zyqxOqC https://imgur.com/ESFrPln https://imgur.com/mC67Mwt https://imgur.com/mwq5CqW https://imgur.com/6k5dbtn Elmax blade. Second owner This is the Ti bolster with micarta. They sell kits to swap out the micarta with other scales. I thought about doing a shipwrecked version, but I have 3 of these and only need one. There’s some snails on the bolster. This is an amazing knife with an amazing fit and finish.
Alliance Mini Slim Pickins Copperhead ($300) https://imgur.com/IlD9x8B https://imgur.com/odTPkfP Elmax blade. Second Owner. I haven’t cut or carried. Copperhead version. The action on the MSP is just incredible. I wound up getting the low key flashy MSP and anodizing it blue or I would be keeping this one.
Benchmade Bugout 535-4. ($180) https://imgur.com/t6OmiGD https://imgur.com/LmSyaAV https://imgur.com/FWQshCs https://imgur.com/6ovZOah M390 blade and aluminum handle. Second owner. I personally haven’t cut with it or carried it but the first owner definitely did. I bought this one to put the ti scales on but I have too many bugouts already and not enough time to mod them all. The coating has some scratches as you can see in the photos. Not super visible unless you start moving it around in the light.
Benchmade Mini Grip ($75) https://imgur.com/YpK0zKK https://imgur.com/hbaeuCg S30V Second owner. Haven’t personally cut or carried it. Got it planning on doing a mini grip Bugout mod, but once again, no time. Missing a clip screw and the clip is worn. I can probably scrape up another Benchmade clip to toss in if you like.
Benchmade Super Freek ($135) https://imgur.com/e2JHOQn https://imgur.com/JhClioZ https://imgur.com/66gl6wo Second owner. Haven’t personally cut or carried it. Used for some cerakote practice. The coating is chipped in a few places. Bought it because it looked cool. Sat in the knife box for a long time, so out it goes. Ti Deep carry clip included!
TRM Shadow ($270) https://imgur.com/pcjet9P https://imgur.com/ZjNKhXG Second+ owner. Bought it a couple months ago and immediately scored a grey one as well. I like to RIT dye things so the grey was the keeper. Didn’t put any use on it myself. Just trying to get my money back. According to the previous description the previous owner sharpened it and swapped out the thumb studs.
Kizer Hic-cup ($60) https://imgur.com/jQsQwF7 https://imgur.com/WQ5bpMj Second Owner. Richlite scales 154CM blade. Got this off of the swap and then saw that there was a non-flipper version. I’m not a flipper guy. She has slept in the knife box the whole time I have had her.
Spyderco Amalgam ($150) https://imgur.com/vLox9db https://imgur.com/DoWv1YH https://imgur.com/bQtMjTG https://imgur.com/XYEW954 Got this off of a trade. Flicked it once and realized I didn’t like the flipper. I never used it but there’s some scratches on the blade from the previous owner. I didn’t notice them until I went to put it up for sale. It could use a flipper delete

Scales / Parts

Flytanium Titanium Bugout Scales [$45] https://imgur.com/8BqlO9C https://imgur.com/OJAhLPo Bought these to go with the m390 bugout, but I have 2 other bugouts and I'm getting rid of most of my Benchmades. I put an entropic finish on one of the scales. I would be happy to do the other one if you like.Kirinite
PM3 Backspacer ($15) https://imgur.com/u2CsSyU https://imgur.com/mJZpldN Red and Black Kirinite PM3 backspacer that I picked up at some point. No real wear on it or anything.
Meton Boss Shaman Backspacer ($50) https://imgur.com/q2XAma8 https://imgur.com/u2CsSyU https://imgur.com/mJZpldN Oil slick zirconium gear backspacer. Meton Boss charges $99 for them. This is brand new. I got this one and a titanium one. The titanium is the one I installed and kept.

Pens / EDC

EDC Kit [$50] https://imgur.com/66TkV4f Well loved Hitch & Timber card caddy, Bronze Fisher Space Pen shipwrecked by me, and an Aurora A4 Titanium light. The light is missing the little rubber cover for the charging port. Costs about $7 on amazon for a pack of 20. Not sure what version the light is. The shipwrecked portion of the pen is sealed with automotive clear coat.
Tactile Turn Bronze Side Click Pen ($70) https://imgur.com/ADm4Oax https://imgur.com/q7Zfcl2 Full size Side Click. Shipwrecked by me and sealed with automotive clear coat. Definitely not a pen that you see every day.
USG Tiscribe V2 ($60) https://imgur.com/AvqNFng https://imgur.com/ODtes5c https://imgur.com/kEbgaTp All titanium. I anodized the clip and bands a golden color and then put a lightning ano on it. It’s go a little wear near the tip. Fits a G2 refill.
Tale of Knives Multitool Sheath ($100) https://imgur.com/AJ1LTkc https://imgur.com/fgJGw77 Bought this because I was thinking about EDC my Leatherman. Going to have to stick with the nylon sheaths because I carry my bits too. Marks are from me loading it up to see if I liked it. I never even put it on a belt though.
Nottingham Tactical Titanium Pen ($210) https://imgur.com/9bj0Cmg Double lock full size G2 version. Not really dying to give this one up. I put an entropic finish on it and it’s just excellent.

From the East Liverpool Historical Society:
"The body of a nude young woman was discovered along State St. in the East End in 1944, and neither she nor her slayer were ever identified.
An 18-year-old River Rd. youth found the corpse June 5 around 7:30 am., wrapped in two green blankets and unclothed except for a torn pink slip around her shoulders.
Sam Winters, a high school football player, was on his way home from Crucible Steel Co, at Midland where he worked overnight. He had left a bus at Mulberry St and was walking along State St. when he noticed a pair of bare feet extending from blankets.
He ran to a nearby site and telephoned police.
Apparently strangled, the victim lay on her back in a cluster of weeds about eight feet from the roadway. The blankets were secured to the body with a seemingly little-used clothesline.
The woman was between 25 and 30, with dark brown hair and brown eyes, about 5 foot 6 and weighing around 125 pounds.
County Coroner Arnold Devon reported no marks on the body other than a discoloration on the left shoulder at the base of the neck The body was still warm when found, and Devon estimated the time of death around 5 a.m.
Sheriff George Hayes made plaster casts of tire tracks in the cinder road for possible future identification of the auto used to transport the body. All city police were called to duty in a hunt for clues and visits to restaurants and taverns to locate someone who would recognize the victim.
The following day - Sunday -- an East End man hunting for canvas to build his children a play tent, rummaged through trash at Columbian Park where a carnival had played the previous week. He came across a torn dress and another dress and skirt with rips.
It was discovered that the dead woman resembled one of the five girls in a picture of the Sheesley Carnival's "Gay New Yorkers revue. Sheriff Hayes traveled to Lima where the carnival was playing, but telegramed city police, "Girl in question was on show last night."
Meanwhile, the body was interred at Spring Grove Cemetery after a brief service at the Dawson Funeral Home where some 1,500 viewed the victim out of curiousity or in hopes of recognizing her.
Later the funeral home officials barred anyone from visitation other than out-of-towners sent by police.
Dozens of calls were received from relatives seeking a missing relative or friend, and from law agencies asking a description.
Her fingerprints were sent to the FBI at Washington in hopes that she made have worked in a war industry and identity could be made. But Director J. Edgar Hoover notified Police Chief Hugh McDermott there was no match.
More clues turned up. A St. George St. man putting away his car at 4:10 a.m. saw a driver switch off the lights of his auto as he pulled onto State St. at the railroad underpass. He was positive the license was not a blue and white Ohio tag.
OTHER LEADS died out. A woman who had quarreled with her husband in a hotel at midweek and disappeared from the show was found at her home in North Carolina.
Benwood, W. Va., police were looking for a missing woman with a leg scar. A Shadyside Ave. girl who had not been seen since Friday night in a Wellsville tavern did not match the body description of "Miss X.
Cincinnati police thought she may be a missing 20-year-old girl, but she had false teeth and the slain woman's were natural.
Today, the only known traces of the victim exist within a Spring Grove Cemetery plot, on police and funeral home records and in yellowing newspaper accounts."
WARNING:POST MORTEM PHOTOS IN THE FOLLOWING LINK: http://www.eastliverpoolhistoricalsociety.org/cargrl.htm
Can someone contact the local coroner's office or Sheriff and ask them to put this woman into NAMUS? I did some digging but couldn't find any contact info that was concrete and for sure, only stuff that was outdated. There are entries on NAMUS and the DN much older than this case, and just because this woman has gone unidentified for 79 years doesn't mean she doesn't deserve to have her name back.
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Got a call to schedule a third interview with the city in which I livepay would be double whatbim getting with HD so I'm walking into work last night on cloud nine feeling pumped up.
My department manager come up with a pist off facial expression, he says " why did you fail to comply with a direct instruction I had given you yesterday?
I replied with, no one in this store has the ability to force anyone to do something in which they do not want to, that goes for you or even the store manager so ask your self what other possible alternative might have prevented me from doing as you commanded.
He was livid at my reply and said my failure to complete his task was unbecoming of my character and a hindrance to the store.
I said, that his failure to properly communicate with his fellow supervisors showed how innecefective of a member of manage he truly was.
He demanded that I tell him where the paper was located that he handed me to have completed by an equipment traine for my ballymore licenses as a search performed earlier of my locker was unsuccessful in locating it.
I let him knownthat i kept it safe and took it home so i would have it with me to attempt to have it conpleted on my next working day given that my request for ceritification that very night was not fulfilled futher more I didn't want it getting stole by anyone going through my personal belongings with out my consent or at minimum my notification before hand. I suggested he consult with the store manager going forward to explain to him directly why he was unable to coordinate my training Inna timely manner with in the previous two months since I completed my computer training and that if he wished to communicate with me going forward about the issue ilI would only entertain his request in the presence of our ASM or SM.
I excuse my self to return to my regular job duties and wished him a pleasant night before letting him know as I was walking away thay my locker would be cleared and left unlocked effective immediately in the event he wanted to go digging for lost documents.
Even if my 3rd interview does not result in an hiring offer, Thursday will be my last day at the store, ill be happy to do jack shit all day long before walking out.
I can only request for them to finish my training daily, not force anyone to actually do it and the faster they understand this the better off the store will be for everyone.

Pre show jams (me) - Honky Red, WSMFP - For What it’s Worth, Buffalo Springfield - Blue Ridge Cabin Home, Flatt & Scruggs - Lawnchair, The Talismen - Rollin in my Sweet Baby’s Arms, Stanley Brothers
CHECKINS: AL, CO, Delta, FL, GA, IL, IN, KY, NY, WI, WV
Start: 8:17pm CT
SET 1: 1. Bronzeback> 2. Secrets, 3. This Old World, 4. Dig a Little Deeper in the Well (Roger Bowling, Jody Emerson)> 5. DUSTTTTTT, 6. Nothing’s Working, 7. Hello, City Limits (Johnny Elgin, Benny Martin)> 8. New Camptown Races (Frank Wakefield), 9. Love and Regret, 10. Taking Wata, 11. Pickin instrumental 12. MMATC (lost service halfway through this damn it)
End: 9:27pm CT
Break jams (me) - GDTRFB, Dead 6/9/76 - My Florida Sunshine, Bill 4/21/23 - No Rain, M.O.E. 5/28/23 (Blind Melon) - Angel from Montgomery, Daniel Donato (John Prine) - On Your Way Down, Little Feat
Start: 9:53pm CT
SET 2: 1. These Old Blues (Larry Sparks), 2. Highwayyyyyy Hypnosisssssss, 3. Hellbenderrrr, 4. Hollow Heart, 5. Sweet Revenge (John Prine), 6. Must be Seven> 7. OLE SLEW FOOOOOOOT, 8. Leaders

TW: suicidal ideation, abuse mentions with no details
I told myself last year that if things weren’t better by this time next year, I was going to end my life. I think it’s time now; I feel so ready. I feel so bad for what this is gonna to do my mother, but I just can’t do this anymore. I know my life could be a lot worse but I think that I’m genuinely some kind of failed experiment of Gods creation. I have been sexually abused from the age of two years old, by several different people in my life. The last time I was assaulted was last year. I’ve been physically, verbally, and emotionally abused by several different people too. My therapist says that I have hyper empathy and I’m open with others and bad people see that and use it to their advantage. I have been in and out of hospitals and therapists since I was ten years old. I’m currently diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder, Schizoaffective Disorder, Bipolar 1, Borderline Personality Disorder, C-PTSD, a few more ‘minor’ things (eating disorders and anxiety issues. I’m a recovering drug addict as well (I’ve been sober for a while now). I’m mentally in hell all day every day. My brain hates me, my body hates me. I am also disabled. I have a connective tissue disorder and issues with all of my bones. I am in severe chronic pain and surgeries have only given me nerve damage and more pain. My home life is so genuinely stressful that I’ve been getting stress induced psychosis every few months for the last three years. I don’t get a break. I take care of a child that’s not mine, I clean and I cook and I work. Nothing I do is enough and any attempt to take a break or to slow down so I can care for myself is met with verbal abuse. I’m not enough for anyone here. No one is here for me. My mom tells me that I’m the person that is meant to be a blessing to other people, that I’m a great listener and always know what to say to make things better. I wish someone would listen to me, that someone would say anything to try and make things better for me. The love of my life left me in April, the only who understand my pain is gone. I didn’t see it coming, literally an hour before he left me he told me that he loved me more than anything. He was my rock and I’m just floating away now. I am so so tired. I’ve been so tired. There are so many things I love about life, there are so so many people I love that I don’t want to leave. But I’m so tired and I’ve tried doing everything to make this better and it doesn’t get better. It never gets better. I have some people I want to see first, some things I want to experience first. My birthday is a couple days and I’m in my bedroom looking up parking garages that would be high enough to jump from that would definitely end me. I can’t see myself being here anymore. I’m gonna sort some stuff out, say all of the things I need to say, get together money for my funeral and cremation and then I’ll be gone. I hope there isn’t life after this one.

Hey. I am a 28 year old guy from Sweden writing here to do what i find to be one of the hardest things in life. Asking for help. I will have to say sorry in advance for my bad spelling/grammar as i have dyslexia. I have been in a battle in both body and mind the past five years due to a work related accident. I crushed my left leg at work and have been receiving a very lackluster help from the care system in place here, i guess one could say i have fallen through the cracks, and everything in life have been standing on a halt for the last five years despite 10+ visits to the hospital every month. to make things clear i have received some help but there as been a lot of carelessness and hopes that the issues will solve themselves after some time. sadly that has not been the case i just recently meet a doctor that looked through the leg and decided to take on my case as its become rather urgent if i wanna keep it. i have thus far made two surgery's, and what was discovered this week is that the they have cut off several nerves in the leg as well as some for sensitivity. aside from that there is more nerves that are heavily damaged as well as other things wrong inside the leg. partly the blood supply to the leg there are some veins missing as well as some leaking into the muscles. he is also suspecting muscle damage and some of this issues have become rather big as things have not been done to them in time. as of right now we are talking about more surgery's that might have to be done to get some nerve ending out. as well as putting in a pacemaker to block out nerve signals.
i dont know how much i can go into it as of right now, i could honestly spend days writing about the whole journey and im planning on maybe doing so as to let people follow me on my journey for rehabilitation.- with that part said. i should probably go into my background a little bit to give the whole picture as to why im asking for help. (and in my heart probably other to connect with)
to start with i never really had any proper connection to my real dad. the few times i meet him he was an ass. and the few times i came to live with him i never really saw him around. that said. i have not really had any contact with him the past 15 years. so i cant say much more on that front. and yeah. my mum and dad separated before i was born. and i have been living with my mom this whole time. good or bad. im honestly not sure of today. to make things clear as to why i feel that way. I love her with all of my heart. at the same time i hate her for what she has done the past 10 years.
i have always struggled in when it comes to doing things i find boring or dont give me a challenge in life. I used to do good in school but was a bully victim for my entire education. That in itself comes with its fare share of problems and struggles but i always manage to push back and build myself up. the worst part here comes in to the fact that i never really had a safe home. The guys my mom where meeting where complete asshats and to give a picture one of them almost beat both me and my mom to death with another four grown ass men sitting in the same room watching. so we are talking the worst of human garbage (excuse my language) but i guess its important to know as i realize this effected both me and my mom. so i really never had a safe place. with that picture painted id like to continue to ten years ago.
my mum meet a guy she married when i was about 10 years old. he was decent i guess. but yeah we have our incidents there to. to shorten the story they separated when i was about 18years old. and after that my mom pretty much cracked down. i was on a trip to Kenya with my school to become teachers for a month in a slum area for kidds between 5-16 years old. During this period i have zero access to internet in order to pay my bills. i gave my mum the loggins to my bank so she could pay my bills for me. sadly when i came home she had not paid a single bill. but instead taken the money to pay her own bills (at that time had no way of getting money for the for the next two months) meaning i had no way of paying the bills at all (i had things saved up so that would not be a problem) but now it all was gone. i can not put into words the disappointment i feelt at that time and have pretty much never come over it. this in turn forced me to quit school to get myself some work (also meaning i had to pay back money to the government) that i got for studying. in order to pay it all with extra charges due to three month behind payments. this was after i spent most of my income trying to help her keep her house for about a year. a house she could not afford bigtime but refused to sell and the money i put in was to give her time to sell it. she did after that year and got double what we paid for it. and i never got a penny back from it. instead she got herself a motorbike and the license for it. and skipped paying her debts this topic of disappointment have not stopped during the past ten years. and i despite it all deiced to give it my all and try to help her in hopes of a better future and getting her out from her financial issues. sadly that is something that will never happen cuz she cant manage money and dont know how the real world around it work. i sacrificed a lot of my youth to help her out including planed trips due to lack of money cuz i helped her out.
why do i find this important to know? my financial background is the reason im having to ask for help at this point in my life as i have done everything and beyond in my own power to stay afloat and above the surface until Im back on my own two feet again. helping her out was no issue as i had work and the financial means to do so. this included loans for a car and more loans for stuff (as she also it taking care of my two younger brothers) this was never a problem as i could afford it. but when the accident happened all that changed, i have been struggling financially myself the past five years due to this and due to a lot of wrongdoings on the governmental agency's paying out the money while i have been unable to work. that set me behind a month two or even as much as three or four, extra expenses i never getting compensation for. i have always managed to get myself out of the hellhole despite struggling mentality to handle it all.
after manage to survive this long and using up every trick in my bag to keep up and breathing im now out of ways to pass that wall. while i have finely found a doctor taking on my case and taking rains of all the work rules and laws regarding my own case when it comes to my right to money and help from the governmental agency's everything is a process and takes months to get through. today im in the shitts cuz i have been falling through the cracks in every way possible and have had rotten luck with the ppl that are suppose to handle the governmental things. but im so close to getting everything changed giving me a better chance at coming back to somewhat of a normal life again. and yet due to the recent fukups with the money im supposed to get out from the agency's every month my life is on the verge of falling apart completely due to the fact that i got no more backups or tricks to solve things.
as someone who always want to make things right for myself and who always managed to solve my own issues and take care of myself as well as others. and as someone that always wants to earn everything in life im now asking for help. i have meet a good psychologist and honestly i feel like my mind is a work of art in itself cuz the more things goes to shitt the more my body strain to get out of it no matter what. and my mind follows that. its like a light never how small always shined bright even in the darkest of thoughts. but the financial part i just have no abilities to solve at the moment. and thus ask if there is any way possible i could get help with that Peter Jordan? i swear if needed be i will pay back every single penny the moment i can put money aside again right now i need to survive about three more months and after that my situation should be fixed. if i cant manage to secure this help im moving out on the streets and will most likely not be able to get back. and i feel that would be my breaking point after doing everything i possibly can to avoid it.
to make it Simple im asking for financial aid to help me cover about three months of expenses (and catch up what has been missed the past two months.) during this time im fighting the system for changes that would change my whole position and situation and make it easier for me to get out into work and the help i need to do so. (on that part i already have a company willing to hire me and help me work my body up after my own capabilities) but for that to happen the governmental agency's have to change my current support stance. (that is currently under investigation) at the same time im now going to get proper help to get my body back in somewhat of a functioning state. if needed il pay back every single penny helping me out once im able and capable of doing so. im willing to stay in contact and update everything needed for this help.
i think that will be it for me. again im sorry if its unclear or hard to follow what i have been writing I have done my best to make it as good as possible. and thanks you for reading i wish you an amazing day.
ps. i will never ever stop fighting or give up no matter what. the harder the situation the harder i will fight, in hopes for a better life and being able to make it all a story later on to hopefully inspire others that struggle. that is my end goal and has always been.
i dont know how this work as i have never really had a reddit account before. but if you would be interesting in a conversation or decided you would want and could help me out this time you can reach me on my Mail ([[email protected]](mailto:[email protected]))

I'm sorry if this post won't be too uniform, I have CPTSD due to both my parents abuse(emotional, physical,neglect,CSA) and talking about my mum gets me quite scrambled. I'll try and be to the point as much as I can anyways
I'm 23 and Trans. I've decided that this is the year I want to book my top surgery, I've been on testosterone for a year and this feels like the last step so I can finally start living my life. In the UK the wait list for surgery is looking like 5 years for me. I'm already getting hormones privately so I decided to pay out of pocket for surgery.
When I was 17 my dad died. I had been no contact for a few years (I don't remember because amnesia) and the whole ordeal was hugely triggering and traumatic. My mum had been reaching the peak of her emotional abuse at home and turned my siblings against me, and I was entering such a bad mental health episode that I couldn't find the words to explain to my teachers at school how bad things were. No matter how much I cried in front of them and wasn't able to do my work for hours sat in front of a computer, none of my teachers did anything. After my dad died my mum only got worse. Guilt tripping me for not being legally able to do the paperwork or arranging the funeral. Annoyed that I couldn't stand going into his flat to clear it out because it triggered my PTSD too much to even touch his things (she knew how abusive he was but really invalidated and gaslit me for it during this time) Her response to this was integrating his household things into ours, forcing me to face and touch them everywhere I went. Even filling out cutlery drawer with his. It made me feel nauseous. She had made such a toxic atmosphere with the outer circle family that none of them knew me well enough to know how to offer support at my dad's funeral. I remember awkwardly sitting alone as his only child and barely anyone who claimed to know him trying to talk to me. (My siblings had a different dad and they were much older, so I was left alone in this)
My dad dying was also incredibly freeing. I wasn't scared of being murdered anymore. He had been paying life insurance, that was for me to claim as his next of kin. I plan to use this money for my surgery.
In 2021 I was given the paperwork to finally claim the life insurance after arguing back and forth with my mum about how I didn't know what to do with it and I needed support. She didn't want anything to do with it, but at the same time she didn't want to organise the paperwork and hand it over to me. It took until then for her to just dump it with me. I came out to her in the same meeting and it went badly, she doesn't believe I'm trans, hates it, the usual.
I'm not going to go into it but I've had a lot happening in my life that were big enough things stopping me from being able to claim my dad's life insurance (which was triggering, and I'd also have to navigate it legally as his daughter) so I'm just getting into it now. But I'm determined, I need my surgery and it's my main motivation in this. I called offices and multiple organisations and support services for 2 weeks trying to figure out how to fill out the forms. Eventually I came to the conclusion, I need to have the information for inheritance tax regardless of if I have any to pay. This paperwork is separate to getting a probate, which in the UK just gives you the legal right to Handel the deceaseds estate (the life insurance policy) which is what I have to apply for next before I can claim the insurance.
When my mum gave me the paperwork for the insurance, there was 0 information about his bank accounts, estate value, debt, funeral costs, all of which I need to know the value to submit for tax checks. (I know I don't need to pay anything but there's no way I can progress without) I already pleaded with my mum for information before I had this conclusion and she didn't have anything to give, just went on a guilt tripping rant about everything she did and how hard it was. That took a week because of her slow replies.
I went back to her again, detailing specifically what I needed, even sending her a link that asks all the questions I need the figures for. And she wouldn't stop deflecting with questions about my personal life because we've been on minimal contact. She tried to brush it off saying she'd contact her solicitor, but how can I trust her to do that when it takes her years to hand off paperwork? It's really not hard but when I ask for specific things she always acts like I'm demanding something huge from her just because she'll have to make time for it to get done. She mentioned I have another small savings account that I should've taken out since I was 18 and she still hasn't given me the details for it. When I talk to her I feel like I'm going crazy because of how delusional she is, the tangents she goes off on. The intense lack of boundaries she has. It's so intensely enraging and it's so hard to not blow up and stick to the point.
I'm moving house soon (hopefully, I still can't find a place) and I need her to be my gaurantor, and then after that and I get my legal documents from her I'm dreaming of cutting her off forever. So I can't go off on her now, it's too fragile since I don't know the next time I'm going to have to ask her to sign onto my new lease. But I'm frozen with nothing to do while she takes days to reply to me and I have no idea of she's making progress. Is there any way I can make her move faster on this? I'll resort to anything at this point. She's a horrible human being and I just want my surgery. (I haven't told her what I'm using the money for. I'm disabled and mentioned I could maybe use it for better treatment because the wait lists are all so long, hoping she'd move faster by taking pity which she did. But it didn't specifically result in her doing anything)
Since this is pretty specific to my situation I don't know how long I'll keep this post up, but anything at all would be appreciated. I feel so depressed and I'm tired of her taking my control away

So here's my situation. My Dad (65) recently passed away after being in the hospital with pneumonia for a couple of months. Since the beginning of this year he's had a friend living in the same retirement community as him helping him out, by buying groceries, using his car and using my both of my Dad's debit and credit cards.
Last month my Dad was at home by himself and he had a respritory attack in which he couldn't breathe, so he called 911 and was admitted to the hospital.
After a few days at the hospital they put him in a pulmonary therapy clinic for a month, his friend, to my knowledge, was still running errands for him at this point and was still helping him anyway he could.
After about 33 days at the clinic I guess my Dad was not feeling like he was getting the help he needed. So his buddy picked him up from the therapy, after my Dad released himself, and took him home.
They were there for maybe 3 to 4 hours, before his buddy went to his house to get something, and then came back saw my Dad slumped over barely breathing. He tried to help him any way he could but he couldn't, so they had to call EMS to come pick him up and take him back to the hospital.
Since then he's basically been in the ICU for 3 weeks or more, during which time he was heavily sedated and intubated; only being able to communicate comprehensively for about 1 or 2 days at most.
Eventually, my Dad passed away, and we came to find out that this guy has had my Dad's debit card for the last three weeks he was in the ICU, so we went to his house and he gave us the debit card back and my Dad's PIN number. Since I am my Dad's son, I went online and called the bank, going over all the transactions for the last 3 weeks, and to my dismay I found there were almost $10,000 in ATM withdrawals, fees, walmart, Citgo gas, amazon, etc, made in the last week while my Dad was on his deathbed. There is no chance that my Dad has even spoken to this guy since then, being in what is essentially a coma in the last few weeks of his life.
Right now, I am back in Texas with my family and he is still in Florida; planning for his cremation and funeral while also trying to figure out how to get that $10,000 back as soon as possible. There's no telling how much of my Dad's finances this guy has access to at this point. Any advice on my situation would be appreciated. Thanks.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dialogue_(Bakhtin)#Reification#Reification)
Do We Understand where something, "is," in relation to ourselves through, "more-like," sight, or, "More-Like, the Parallax Effect, whether that is through sight, sound, the other senses,"
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dialogue_(Bakhtin)#Double-voiced_discourse#Double-voiced_discourse) Just saying, now,

Monological, Reified, Governmental Structure is great at, essentially, One Thing: coercing people into ignoring the contingencies from their strandpoint...

...and then there are the people out for commodity time on a paycheck and retirement, "You Want People to Be O.K, and to Have Beautiful Lives of a Material Security, which, is as commensurate with their own intentions and plans and contingencies as possible,

I do not mean, "fair," or, "as much as put in," Fact Is All Of Us Put In All Of It, Don't we?
What I mean is that when my brother and I were in NoLa, once, he got into a Dumb Car Accident it wasn't his fault but we had to stay a few extra days to get the car fixed, In Metarie, "which is fine," but we joked the whole time about how, "well I guess we live here now!" Historically, this has not been a joke, serious impediments to one's plans and intentions in travel have been more like the rule, than the exception, throughout most of history, and, it was the case that sometimes people who had an impediment were required to wait, and then work, and then, "now we live in Metarie," if and insofar as these are not mechanical impediments rather they're social, structural impediments, this would not be in congruence with what I mean, likewise, you wouldn't want to exchange a free meal, for, an obligate participation in a dangerous political partisanship you haven't, or, wouldn't have considered otherwise, even if it came with free meals, just like that one, "for the whole duration," that would NOT be a Material Security, which, is as commensurate with one's own intentions and plans and contingencies as Would Be Possible, Factually, it would be possible to maintain your pre-existing, obligations, plans and mindfulness of the contingencies and it would, in matters of fact, be an example of someone else's utilitarianism deciding, to, use you as an instrument insofar as they're able to,

Une âme n'est pas faite pour habiter une chose ; quand elle y est contrainte, il n’est plus rien en elle qui ne souffre violence. Simone Weil Said that, and, In that Respect She is Correct; She was correct a lot of the time, so,
https://www.cbc.ca/news/health/fda-poppers-energy-shots-warning-1.6863960
That Looks, to me, like a Beaurocracy, full of people well aware that their game is one and it's simple; they're all their to be coerced into an alientation from their own betters sense about the actions they'll do all day, each day, with serious and Permanent Consequences for the people they'll interact with while their script will tell them. as you or I might read it, "what meager intelligence and intentional, situated empathies of our own we are allwed to consider," while the people who have become so habituated to this process as to believe that it has been OWED to them, that it is their right to have work in which their actions have no name nor conscience nor permanence, all day, each day, for weeks and then months and then decades, and these people will see these same permissible exceptions to the algorithmic theater they're required to do in exchange for their paycheck, truly, an unlimited theater with consequences upon This High an Order, both, in each instance and in the cumulative implications:
https://medicalxpress.com/news/2023-05-charity-families-cope-trauma.html
Read that, now consider this:
https://www.cbc.ca/news/health/fda-poppers-energy-shots-warning-1.6863960
It must be a Marginalized, victimized, maligned Population attached to the Heuristic Object they'll hunt without mind, nor empathy, nor, the most basic and in a Moral and Relational Sense obligate efforts to assist, unless there are Bigots who Want This Community, whichever one they'd find to choose, literally, Dead, there will be a Great Risk to the Workers who, either, and, Both, will Hunt through the LGBT Community, in order to Capture, essentially, Bounty, on those among them with poppers, or, use poppers, as an excuse to persecute the LGBT Community, if it shuts down their stores, it can shutter their communities, it can impoverish those who had the ownership and it can place them in positions worse than death, "either one is fine with this, or, one is going to use this to advocate for their own usefulness within a beaurocracy, which, is populated to some extent, by, usefully, for those concerned, Bigots; do you know what Americans Want to See Sometimes, these days, their Storm Troopers Driving a Truck through the Door of Rich Criminals who have driven our young people to suicide, with what they've done, and Putting Him, the Son, and Their Whole House into the air itself, so much phosphorous fired indoors the cement in the basement burns, now,
That Does not happen, Does it; Children are burned to death when the gas used in trenches is thrown into their bedrooms and ignited from the rifles firing into their brothers and fathers for reasons which, on a serious, and, literal, level, are a Moral, Medical, and State Utilitarian Equivalent to this proposed injunction against poppers and the fact, literal, fact, is, that there are some people who like it that those children die, there are a lot of people who work indirect to the process, and there are an even greater number of people who have no idea where upon that equation their coworkers lay; it's not discussed directly, of course,
https://www.businessinsider.com/nixon-adviser-ehrlichman-anti-left-anti-black-war-on-drugs-2019-7

"The Nixon campaign in 1968, and the Nixon White House after that, had two enemies: the antiwar left and black people. You understand what I'm saying? We knew we couldn't make it illegal to be either against the war or black, but by getting the public to associate the hippies with marijuana and blacks with heroin, and then criminalizing both heavily, we could disrupt those communities. We could arrest their leaders, raid their homes, break up their meetings, and vilify them night after night on the evening news."

These things,
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harry_J._Anslinger#Contemporary_racial_prejudice

Reefer makes darkies think they're as good as white men.[29]

So do you think it was a sinner, who made this Website for the U.S. Government:
https://museum.dea.gov/exhibits/online-exhibits/anslingeremembering-harry-anslinger
...or do you think it was a cypher, a Drone, someone who does a work as I've described it, an adult either incapable, through perception, or coercion, or confidence, or indisposed through practice and the conditioning, preferentially, incapable of making, within the realm of their expertise and the useful work they'll do in this life, coherent moral decisions or even coherent sociality, Different in each room as if their remunerations were their license to cosplay, "I'm in Rick and Morty, and, I teleport between each scene of each job and if they're never moral it defines the world this, and not that I've done all of these immoral jobs and met the people who look for people to pay, to do immoral jobs.
I know people who are dead, who would never be a prison guard, and never got to have a life and family, of their own; would make that choice again, I do not doubt it, because, I love these people.
​
Read Simone Weil, She is correct about a lot of things.
This is an Interpretation Which Is Quite Correct, and, Rather Useful; less so on it's own than for the fact that the implications and their contingencies do Not Stray-out of the realm of sense, rather, walk us into rather more sophisticated interpretations which have been written already, and, if we take their implications and the contingencies thereto, we do not find, "another hallway, unrelated to these two," but what we can use to interpret greater depth to the former, Let Me Demonstrate:
Monological Reification, Where Do We See This Instantiated In the Telivision Show, which,#Reification) and this is crucial to remember, cannot, as a function of the entertainment product, teach the office workers that it is meant to amuse and disarm and feel better, honestly, good people write funny programs, it cannot teach them that their job is not their job, but, rather, an altogether unrelated fantasy, while, remaing, you follow; the Television Show CSI Bears almost No Resemblance Whatsoever to actual Law, Law Enforcement, Forensics or the related technologies; it does teach people, and it does amuse them, from, I'd argue, an altogether prurient place of interest, but it would not much amuse a legal, law enforcement, forensic or technology, profession, due to their recognition of the familiar circumstances, routines, Kata, tools, caricateristics and lifestyle of their profession, now would it?

What Can't the Drone Understand?

Why?

Is This Not Identical to the The Description, Then, Demonstration of Power-Talk? Is Power-Talk not now familiar, and, Understood; how about,

​
The Different Classes and Catefories of Speech the Schizophrenic cannot code for, nor, interpret, do we not find them,

Here#Discourse) and Here, and in Much Greater Detail?

Watch this, Please, it appertains to your subject an equal amount, but, also, more, than the rest to your project; now that you have seen it, what MORE have we learned about the appropriateness or appertainment of Bateson's research into Schizophrenia, and how both appertain to the management of collaborative work, or, the achievement of collaborative objectives; for what reason, Specifically,

For What Reason Would the Schizophrenic have trouble, interpreting, What I have just written to you,
...as Bateson Describes in regards to Syllogism, at the tope of page three...

The Structure of this argument I have made is Not Linear,

Line This One up With This One,
A and then B
B and then A
From this paper,
​

Listen to Doctor McGilchrist

Listen to this talk about Papers more Broadly,
​
Now that you've done all that, and I know it will take you a while, though, I cannot concieve of a disinterest in where that all leads, we can, I think, agree on two things,

1. There is some usefulness in these, particular, notions, the, related, Research, philosophies, writers, though
2. NOT to the exclusion of each-other, that, one would be as remiss to think it more useful to spend a decade, and that decade in this single purpose, to become an expert in one particular of these descriptions and I mean, Literature, Medicine, Semiotics- and think think this to be more useful, to understand their usefulness and illustrations and language in relation to one another and in, inter-relation, all this, these things

I know that you found that at least a little bit useful, probably; o.k. I'm so so so so so super hungry, I gotta go, I'm sorry, I love you,
​
Jonathan Phillip Fox
ps
​
I Like Hermes and I Love the Mother of Everything that Lives in the Dark

Hello all, and thank you for taking the time to read this.
Early may of last year my brother was found dead in a camper attached to the back of his truck. The medical report said that he had already gone through rigor mortis and livor mortis. When the police got there they ruled his death as a suicide, he had a gun in the truck with him and had a bullet hole in his head, he was laying underneath a tarp and there was no shell casing in or around the truck. He had told me, my mom, and my brother in law that should something happen to him my sister would get the money, but it was found out that his dad got the money (we don’t share a dad). My brother was in the army and had went to fort Leonard wood, there my mom said that he told a DI that he didn’t feel safe living at home with his dad. If you’re wondering where the money went, not a penny to the funeral. My sister paid his funeral and the money all went to boats, motorcycles, guns, and whatever else. His boss (he worked a day job at a security company, he was in the reserves in the army.) told my mom that he never came into work. At that point we had found out he was evicted from his apartment 2 weeks before, I was with my dad so I didn’t know any of this until I found out he was dead. The next morning at 2am my mom and sister found out that he was dead, then 6am that morning I found out. My mom doesn’t think something is right, she finds it suspicious that he put his dad as the beneficiary if he said he didn’t feel safe living there, forgive me if I was not detailed enough, I will be more than happy to answer any questions I can in the comments or in DMs. Thank you all for any help!

This is the best tl;dr I could make, original reduced by 61%. (I'm a bot)

Egyptian authorities ban public funeral for Mohamed Salah, conscript involved in killing Israeli soldiers earlier this week fearing he could become a 'martyr'.
Tensions flared in Cairo as Egyptian authorities imposed a ban on activists and family members holding a public funeral for Mohamed Salah, a conscript whose alleged involvement in the killing of three Israeli soldiers has strained Egyptian-Israeli relations.
The Egyptian authorities banned Tuesday evening activists and family members of Egyptian conscript Mohamed Salah from conducting a public funeral outside the deceased home in the capital Cairo, fearing he could be treated as a 'martyr'.
Salah, a security force member serving along the Egyptian border with Israel, is believed to be involved in killing three Israeli soldiers after he entered Israel's territories and was killed during an exchange of fire on Saturday.
The funeral was attended only by Salah's brother and uncle, who were previously interrogated by Egyptian authorities.
While Salah has been referred to by the Israeli media and government as "An assailant," "Terrorist" or "Gunman," Egyptian and Arab social media activists and several journalists, even those loyal to the regime, have described him as a "Hero" and "Martyr."

Summary Source FAQ Feedback Top keywords: Egyptian^#1 Salah^#2 security^#3 Israel^#4 Israeli^#5
Post found in /worldnews.
NOTICE: This thread is for discussing the submission topic. Please do not discuss the concept of the autotldr bot here.

My husband stopped taking all his meds. He's mood irritated and 0 to 60. He brings up our past issues.blsming everything wrong on me. Not taking accountability for his actions words and behaviors at the time. I was wrong so was he then. We both apologized and said out all behind us when I was open and honest. But he's been throwing that in my face recently and saying he was going to tell out some 6 what I did. And show him a video. But fast forward to now. He's hit me before once was an audience and I hit him on the shoulder to stop him from throwing my meds out the window. Last year. Sunday he slapped me in the face when I said hit me. After telling him to not yell at our son. Again he blamed me for pushing it and he says he's not like that when I'm not home. There more il up date

I 28F and my husband 31M have two children 2F (disabled with a very rare genetic condition) and 6M (recently diagnosed with Aspergers and ADHD). This is going to be long since there's a lot of history going back 6 years.
Since the first child was born I have been unable to live peacefully with my inlaws. They were pushy, judgmental and always trying to interfere in the way we raise our son and trying to order us to do things their way. Husband didn't see anything wrong with it since he was raised like this his whole life. It was the reason for many arguments. When 6M was 2yo we moved closer to them, because my husband insisted we move back home and after many discussions I finally agreed. It was rocky at first, but we managed to exist close to each other without any major incidents. A while later we got pregnant. They were hoping for a girl since there hasn't been any girls in the family for two generations. When she was born we were all shocked when she was immediately transferred to ICU due to severe health problems. That's when FIL told us he FORBIDS US to have anymore children (we weren't planning to have anymore anyway but who is he to tell us that). For the past two years my daughter was admitted to hospitals over 20 times. She doesn't sit, doesn't walk. Only recently started to roll over. We have finally learned of the diagnosis a few months ago. Her genetic condition is very rare, less than 20 people diagnosed worldwide. She will never be Independent and will always rely on our care. She's fed through gastrosomy, is only able to make a few sounds and probably will never speak. If she will walk it will be very late, possibly at the age of 7, but there's no guarantees she ever will. My inlaws have this weird fantasy world where they believe that she will miraculously get better. It's fine, if it's their way of coping I'm not the one to judge. The issue is they have never liked me and its showing in their treatment of my children. They have two grandsons from BIL and his wife (their favourite DIL) and they go out of their way to spend time with them. The boys stay for a sleepover at least 3 nights a month, they look after them at least 4 days out of the week, take them for walks and spend as much time as they can with them. With our son they refused to have him overnight (as is their right, it was my husband asking anyway, I'm chill either way) but they also don't go out of their way to spend time with him and only see him when we go over to their house which is not very often due to our disagreements. If ocassionally they did spend time with our son they always complained about him. He doesn't want to eat, his cousins like to eat. He's doing this wrong, that wrong. His cousins aren't like this. Always comparing. Their relationship with our daughter is also reliant on our efforts. They do talk to her, hug her etc. when we are over but also don't unconvenience themselves by seeking any contact on their own. They always said reach out if you need any help but always conveniently have an excuse why they can't help whenever I asked. They have their own company, they always find time to help BIL with his children but never can help with ours. For easter they asked to take our son to the seaside. They asked to take him 2 years ago but changed their minds when we went away with them a month before because they saw that he can be a handful when away from home. This time they were set on taking him and they took our son and BIL's sons for 3 days. After they came back MIL came over to our house furious. She started screaming at me telling me how our son was behaving (and from what she said I'm not defending him, he gave them a front row show of his worst qualities but we warned them that this could happen. She also admitted she didn't give him his morning dose of calming medicine, only the night dose which definitely didn't help). She kept screaming that our son is spoilt. That his behavior is 20% his condition and 80% bad raising on my part. She was furious because son kept crying that he only wanted mum because I'm the only one who understands him and he begged them not to call his dad. I told her I'm not responsible for his relationship with dad. That its hard to expect anything else since my husband doesn't spend time with him, is hardly ever home and he only keeps reprimanding him and complaining at his behavior while playing with our daughter, hugging her and telling her how much he loves her. I told her I'm also struggling and son is not an angel with me, but I'm trying my best. She then screamed that she doesn't blame my husband for being like this and that he should work more and spent less time with us. She also said that I HAVE TO change how I raise my son because he will grow up and beat me up. That I shouldn't ask his opinion on things. That when I tell him to do something and he asks why I should say because I told you so. That I shouldn't talk to him so much and I shouldn't follow the advice that son's psychologist is giving me because she's not the one raising him and dealing with him. She also admitted that while away, my son hit his cousins and she spanked him and he said it didn't hurt. And this excuse for a grandma then said she took a tree branch and hit my son with it. I saw red. Didn't want to argue so I got up to go for a smoke to cool off. She then screamed STOP. GET BACK HERE. I'M TALKING TO YOU. I said I'm going for a smoke because I'm angry and don't want to say too much or argue. She then continued to scream at me and saying to come back and listen to her. I ignored her and went for a smoke. My husband was sat down during this conversation and didn't say anything the whole time. He just kept nodding at her words. This was a fuse in my relationship with husband. I was hurt because he never stands up to his parents. Because if I stand up to them, he's mad at me because "I don't respect them". Because he's more invested in his relationship with his parents than with me and our kids. The atmosphere in our house was tight for a few weeks and shit hit the fan after a while. He was drunk and started to unload on me for going to my future SIL's hen party and leaving the kids with him (I went away for 36 hours for the first time since we've had kids. The only other time I went away was before I was pregnant our daughter to my grandmothers funeral because my husband decided to stay with our son last minute since he was developing a fever). He said many many hurtful things implicating I'm a bad mother. Was very aggressive and intimidating. I packed up my things the next day and went to stay with my sister. When I was safely at her house with the kids I let him know I was leaving him. I refused to answer his phone calls since he was drunk and I knew that because I kept in touch with his grandmother. The next day I let him speak to our son and sent him pics of the children. He asked to come over to talk things out and I agreed. We talked in the car. He admitted he was wrong for his behavior, apologised. He said what's been bugging him, I said what's been bugging me. We agreed that I'll take a few more days to think things through. Finally we had a long conversation and I agreed to try and work things out on the condition that he puts more effort into our relationship and his relationship with our son and puts me and the children first instead of his parents. We came back. That's when his parents announced to husband that they're mad at me and won't talk to me anymore. Why? Because I left. And they won't talk to me until I apologise. I have to admit, my husband kept his promise. He told them I have nothing to apologise to them for. Me leaving doesn't have anything to do with them and I won't be apologising. He was furious when telling me about it. Soon after they were organising a birthday party for husbands uncle and MIL said that she's inviting us all but if I have half a mind I won't come. Husband said in that case not to expect him either. MIL said to at least bring the kids over and he agreed. He didn't end up taking them, because our daughters nurse called that morning to say that she'll be over in the afternoon and I said I'm not comfortable with him leaving the kids with inlaws once the party is in full mode because his family will be drunk and loud by then (they're known to get drunk on occassions like this). He agreed. A few days later MIL asked to take husband and kids to a botanical garden for mothers day or at least the kids, but then corrected herself and said that she would only want to take our son since she can't take care of our daughter (it's not complicated. MIL keeps saying she needs to learn since daughter was born but never showed any interest in learning. Daughter is 2 now and she doesn't put any effort in learning how to take care of her, she also doesn't put any effort to learn how to deal with our son or learning anything about Aspergers. She expects our son to bend his behavior towards her expectations, instead of finding ways to find a common language with him). Husband said he'll think about it. I objected. It's mothers day, I want to spend time with my kids. My husband is welcome to go. They didn't go. Since then MIL coincidentally only insists that husband comes over with the children at dates that are significant to me. Husband takes the children over to them so they can spend time with them on normal dates, that don't interfere with our plans. Yesterday husband said SIL was complaining that its been ages since we've spent time as a family with inlaws. That I should apologise and end this feud. She said she jumped at FIL and hit him and apologised and its all good, so she's sure that things will go back to normal if I apologise. He said that I don't have to apologise but should go over with him and show that I'm willing to end this. The thing is I'm not. It's a few years of built up anger spilling over and me taking a stand for the first time. I refuse to be treated like this. I refuse to be the hated DIL, just because I have different views while BIL's wife assaulted FIL gave a half assed apology and she's back to being their favourite DIL. I refuse to let them treat our kids worse because they don't like their mother. I refuse to bend over backwards to please them, while they treat me and my kids worse. I pointed out to husband that our neughbour has a better relationship with our daughter than MIL. That she's not scared and puts more effort to build a relationship with our daughter than his mother does. That his parents only complain and insist that HE comes over with the kids. That I'm not holding the kids hostage. She can come over and take the kids for a walk, she doesn't have to talk to me. That even when SIL assaulted FIL and they refused to speak to her, they still found a way to spend time with their kids, but can't do the same for our kids. I'm tired of this. I will not go over, I will not speak to them because if I do, it will be same as giving them permission for this treatment. I said they don't have to like me, but should respect that I'm his wife and the mother of his children. That even if they don't like me, our children are their grandchildren and they should treat our kids better and most importantly put our kids first over any arguments or feuds that they have with me. We deserve better and I'm taking a stand for me and my children. He dropped it for now but I know he will try to convince me to end this again.

We found my mum last Tuesday. We think she had been there for a couple days. (She often went AWOL when she was sick, and she had multiple health issues. Usually no big deal.) but the lack of closure has me torn apart.
The coroner found nothing in the post mortem. We need to wait for the pathologist which could take 6 weeks. The funeral home say she’s too far gone to see her - I can’t give her that hug I desperately, desperately want to give her. I didn’t get to say goodbye. I still won’t. I don’t know what took her from me, perhaps I never will. We had a complicated couple of years but that was my fucking mother. My heart is in pieces and I don’t know how I’m going to be able to carry on. I suffer with severe mental health issues and I was making amazing strides in the last 6 months after my partners grandpa died (we lived with him and cared for him 24/7 - also I lost 2 dogs and an uncle last year) and this has sent my mental health PLUMMETING. We also think her friend has found her and done nothing as he never asks us to go check on her but did this time, and he knew things only we did about the house at the time. He could have tried to save her.
I’m already on the waiting list for therapy. But this hurts more than words can say. I am dreading every second more I have to go without answers. I’m forgetting to eat, barely sleeping properly. I’ve lost weight already.
Has anyone else gone through this? How the hell do I do this?

For context, my grandad was very ill (I call him papa) for many years, he had copd and prostate cancer and has been bed bound for the past 2 years, but his mind was always active.
I grew up in a dysfunctional home with a narcissistic mother, a step dad and half brother, I was the black sheep in that household and my safe place was with my gran and papa. I’m the oldest of 5 grandchildren f(23)
My papa bought me my first car, my first year at university accommodation, my car insurance… gave me everything, saved me from my biological dad when he stole me, texted me everyday to check on me, ALWAUS looked out for me and defended me I was so lucky. He was the dad I never had.
He gave me everything and reminded me everyday how proud he was of me. He healed something in me that my mum took away from me and he made me feel safe and told me as long as he’s here I’d never be stuck.
Since I was a little girl, my papa was my safe person, he taught me how to type in a computer and how to ride a bike, even last week he video called me teaching me how to put up wall paper.
Yesterday I held his hand while he took his last breathe.
I feel so alone I feel so angry I feel robbed I feel abandoned
My mum never let me go to the funeral directors, she didn’t let me watch my papa be taken out the house, she’s insulted me constantly infront of people and she’s making me feel even more abandoned
What’s next?
How am I supposed to live the rest of my life without my safe place

My(24f) Husbands(25m) uncle (FIL’s brother) passed away 3 years ago. His family didn’t have a funeral, The uncle had mental health issues so he didn’t have anyone in his life outside of immediate family and myself. In February of this year we get this random text that on June 3(no significance to this date) there’s going to be a funeral for him in Ohio. We agreed to go(it’s only 3 hours away from us and we would be back home that night) even though it’s really weird this is happening almost 3 years later on an insignificant date. We agreed to go despite our feelings of it being 3 years later strictly out of respect for FIL.
In March, we went on a trip to Virginia for a wedding and we stayed with his parents. His dad brought up that he’s booking an Airbnb for the funeral and we have to stay with them. This was ignored by both my husband and I since our dog has been having these weird stomach problems(she’s mostly back to normal now) and our pet sitter had to clean up shit and bathe her for 2 days. It kept getting worse she couldn’t stop throwing up or control her bowel movements. We left our trip early while our angel of a pet sitter stayed with her until we got home. At this point with us leaving early, FIL is upset because he wanted us to spend the night in Ohio, and he was trying to book an Airbnb, even though we never agreed to that and he was like “oh, I guess I shouldn’t have asked for that given the circumstances with the dog”. 24 hours later, he still booked the Airbnb.
Anyway, so throughout April and May our dog was still having these issues where we couldn’t leave the house for more than eight hours without her having uncontrollable diarrhea/vomit for multiple days. My husband tells his mother that we’re not gonna be able to spend the night because of our dog and we don’t want our pet sitter to have to deal with what he went through in March again because that would not be fair to him and not fair to the dog to lay in her own shit overnight. MIL just started screaming at husband on the phone saying that “this is funeral more important than our dog and we should have our pet sitter watch her so we can stay the night with them and be a family.” This controversial conversation went on for weeks until they finally let up on our decision to prioritize our dogs health. This past Friday, inlaws dog ended up needing emergency surgery. So they had to reschedule this funeral, which is okay however we’re moving back to to our home state in the south in a few weeks and we have a lot going on. I suggested the first weekend of July if they want us to be able to come this summer, but that doesn’t work for them because there’s gonna be traffic and they have a vacation the second week of July. I also suggested a date in two weeks from now and heard crickets. They decided that we weren’t going to go and they decided on a date where I said that my mom I haven’t seen in six months(she just became a flight attendant and it’s the only days she has off she will be flying from Detroit to see me and then back to Detroit for work) is coming to visit and help me pack and husband didn’t want to takeoff of work for this 3 year late funeral as the emotions/urgency has been gone since then. Husband gets screamed at by his mother saying how important this is to his dad and just going off on him and suggesting my husband just leaves me at home and he comes. Then SIL(22f) calls and screams at him that this is important and my “plans are bullshit and everyone is saying it’s bullshit”. They get into it but nothing is resolved. FIL and Ben were chatting about other dates on the phone and SIL comes in screaming because she has a babysitting job on a Friday/Thursday that would work. That phone call ends abruptly and MIL calls husband to scream at him and then the FIL and SIL chime in to start screaming at him to leave me at home and why can’t I be left alone with my mom(my mom was coming to visit with both of us and help us) and why can’t I pack by myself(I have pretty bad health issues). I finally yelled in their presence for the first time “I don’t fucking care anymore just go without me so SIL can go to her fucking babysitting job I don’t even want to go anymore” then they all shut the fuck up and I pretended to leave the room and then SIL starts crying on the phone & now everyone is upset. Next day FIL calls husband and said he understands if husband doesn’t come as my feelings were extremely hurt and this is an open wound they keep opening. Alright so, husband called FIL (who said previously he understands if Ben doesn’t go to stand by me) to tell FIL he’s not going and FIL started screaming at my husband. Apparently they are all offended/embarrassed I yelled obscenities at SIL. After that, my husband was upset and said he has to go to this funeral, I agreed but I’m still upset over how I have been treated like a pet you can just leave at home. Anyways I ended up calling FIL and told him how I feel, it was going okay but then he was saying he doesn’t let his children cuss at eachother and then he randomly asked if my father deceased 10 years ago) allowed that and I stated that my dad encouraged us to fight it out and get over it. He then said that SIL apologized. In my head, I was like to what the wind? I left the room. He was almost insinuating I need to apologize and I stated that I would not be apologizing. He then asked if I wanted to be treated like his daughter because if I want that that means he would tell me to get over it and I would have to come to the funeral regardless of my plans. Found that comment to be bizarre as he’s not my father nor my fathers replacement. MIL had tried calling me that day but I didn’t answer bc I am not in the right headspace and he told me he would’ve told me to pick up the damn phone if I was his daughter…. But I’m not your daughter I’m an adult who’s married to your son. Anyways that phone call ended with me saying I need to be left alone right now and he agreed.
MIL texted me afterwards saying she’s upset and wants to talk to me. Husband called inlaws and was pissed that she texted me. I responded to her with “I am not ready to talk right now cause my emotions are high as well and I want to be able to have a productive conversation with you.”
Anyways fast forward to yesterday MIL said to husband on a phone call that she doesn’t understand why I am offended/hurt. He explained that I am his wife, I was one of the few people that knew his uncle outside of family and they have disrespected me multiple times previously in similar situations. Husband told me he explained to MIL his priorities were with me and she apparently said ”what if your priorities change” and also said “well you’re going without her now anyways so why is she upset”
This has been exhausting. Of course if this death had recently happened, we would both drop anything and everything for it but as it can be rescheduled, I’m not understanding why it has to be a specific time that ONLY works for them.

I have a feeling I know what people will tell me and that I wont like what they have to say but I need at the very least to write this out and express my feelings.
So I've had trauma and depression since childhood and in my 20's I abused alcohol and drugs [mostly psychedelics' and some xanax], I had horrible depression. At times I couldnt really see colour or taste food, at times my drinking was so bad I barely ate. Very unstable. Frankly the only reason I didnt end up homeless or dead was that I happened to know other traumatized alcoholics and drug addicts and we co dependently saw eachother through the hard times. My best friend in that particular category overdosed just after the pandemic and that was that. I have poor relations with my family [I do talk to one sister] and only a couple friends left. Those friends are actually pretty stable, though one has kind of a drinking problem as I do.
I went into a pre apprentice trades program as part of Welfare; most of the participants are ex criminals or addicts. I met a girl. She was extroverted, wild, friendly, still using too much coke and things like that but on anti depressants, resolute to raise her son and get him back, stay away from criminals and stay away from the drug trade. For someone whos only ambition was to sleep as much as I could for as long as I could, the fact that she wants a red seal for carpentry and wants to open up a shelter for abused children really impressed me, it made me admire her even. We both had similar backgrounds in that respect only she had a far worse life and still wanted and wants a normal one. Maybe im just desperate and lonely but it really hit me to meet someone I liked who I understood who impressed me.
Anyway; during the program we gradually became friends. Not the best of friends, just friends. And she would flirt with me some as well-- as I said a wild girl so its hard to interpret the flirting, and she said she wanted no man just to raise her son. most of her friends are guys. She wanted to hang out and do shrooms but I was busy, so I invited her over a while later and she accepted. But she got depressed on the weekend and never came down; we continued to hang out but she flirted noticably less. Honestly her friend had just died and a lot of other friends in jail and to be frank I was probably being a self absorbed asshole even to invite her down, but I was excited to see her. About a week ago she got full custody of her kid back and is therefore very busy and mentioned it.
After that the program went online mostly, and she skipped a few days for the funeral and drinking, things like that. I ran into her again on the last day and as we had done previously we hung out with eachother most of the day. We ate lunch (where to give an indication of the relationship in some way; were close enough that while waiting for the food she rested her head on my shoulder and I wrapped my arm around her] grabbed some booze and drank for a couple hours. I asked her if she ever wanted to hang out after the program and she paused for a second to think and then answered: "sure, we both live in the same city unlike those other wackos, we can hang out. but id probably have to bring my son along" Not a word for word accurate quote but its close enough. So right there I, in all honesty from a point of self consciousness, am not sure how to take that. Hesitating because she didnt want to? hesitating because she was thinking out the structure of her life? my impression of her is always that shes fond of me and a very open person, but I make bad decisions and calls. So to my ear saying 'my son might be there' is an honest concession to the fact that shes a single mom and in a sense the willingness to hang out with me and her son is a good sign, yes? But I cant get it out of my head its a bad one.
This is where I am quite embarrassed: The last time we drank together this girl got way too drunk and ended up pissing in some water cups and throwing them out the window of the bus. She didnt get in trouble cause she was further to the back, it all worked out. Yesterday on said bus though I was the one who was way too drunk [and a bit high on coke] and so I pissed into a water bottle-- which I slightly overfilled because it was hard to judge and a bit of piss was on the cap, which I then tightened and threw out the window lol. Ofc the bus driver noticed because im a dumb fuck, and kicked me and the girl off the bus -- at least I think thats what happened, I know we both left but in all honesty my memory is sketchy and I wasnt paying attention.
Long story short im pretty sure I heard the girl say something like 'you got some piss on me' holy fuck my soul shattered into a million pieces. Again as a preface; she seems non judgmental and is more than a little crazy-- drugs, things like that. She burned her arm with cigarettes the other day just as a dare to see who could withstand more pain between her and her friend. So I honestly have NO idea how something like that would be received. A regular person absolutely would call me fucking pathetic [trust me...I know im pathetic] and would want nothing to do with me after that. Maybe shes different?
On the way back home stumbling drunk I texted her 'your cool, text me if you ever wanna hang out' and no reply. Again she just got her kid back and has been saying shes too busy to text people-- she even had an argument with someone who thought he was being ghosted.
Honestly what the fuck do I do:
-I cant stop going over this in my head and tearing myself apart. I really liked her and I feel like I shot myself in the foot to the point where I cant salvage it. The programs over and im honestly not even sure how I can communicate with her. Should I apologize? Do I call her up? Should I wait a few days?
-I am if im being completely honest interested in dating her--- but I dont want to be, because she said she just wanted friends, and I do want to be her friend, and I dont want to be that fucking dishonest simp asshole whos resenting her and sitting on the sidelines. I want the crush to go away because she seems like someone I could be best friends with
-I am also aware that line of reasoning sounds precariously like I love her or something, and im not sure if the feelings will go away
-I'm also just not sure if shes good for me or im good for her. I know that since ive met her ive enjoyed waking up and most of my instincts and things I do are shared with her, and I always have felt like a wild fucking loser who no one understood
-All ive done today is walk around trying to distract myself from this.
-Assuming she isnt mad at me and im just neurotic and mentally ill [definitely]; then how or what should I do in going about hanging out with her? I've never been an adult before, only a drunken loser and a petty thief. Is the subtext of hanging out with a woman and her kid that its a date? Should I just ask a generic thing like 'do you wanna drink and hang out?'
Or maybe im just barking up the wrong tree and shes not even very interested me as a friend, I donno.
​
*To be clear she is not 'using' again-- this might sound dishonest and it might even have an element of dishonesty but its true. Sometimes alcoholics can drink without returning to drinking, doesnt mean there isnt substantial risk or that they will always drink responsibly (clearly I did not) but the act of drinking in and of itself doesnt mean im going to fall back into chronic use. The same goes for her, she uses coke and she shouldnt and its a risk she will fall back into being a coke head, but dont get the wrong impression. Shes mostly sober and im mostly not drinking.

Does anyone know how to get out of a Starbucks contract?
I just started my new job and I already want to quit. I REALLY want to quit. Because this shit isn’t normal. I mean, is it? Do you guys have experience with this type of shit, or is it a normal thing when moving to the city? I’m a small-town girl so I’m not used to this. We didn’t even have a Starbucks. Just a diner that had been broken into multiple times over the years.
Do you know the bad feeling you get when something bad is going to happen, but you ignore it for the sake of staying sane? .Yeah.
It was one of those situations.
But I needed cash. I needed a job. College in the city is expensive, especially in my mid-twenties. Uber Eats every night and various subscriptions, such as Netflix and Spotify—as well as basic living needs required cash. So, naturally, I looked for part-time jobs I could use to fill up my weekend and nights. When it came to job hunting, I was fairly lazy. So, the Starbucks job kinda came out of nowhere.
I wasn’t even looking for it. I was applying for a job in the local music store when it caught my eye. Someone to work late evenings and nights on weekdays and Saturdays. The job description didn’t say much, just basic pay details and a full paragraph dedicated to talking about “The Starbucks Family”. Skim reading it, I skipped to the APPLY NOW button and sent in my resume via email. Two hours.
It had taken two hours to get an email back offering a video interview the next day—and a guaranteed job if I didn’t screw it up. The video interview went well to my surprise. The woman who conducted it acted more like a friend, asking me what my favorite movies and TV shows were, and then going into detail about her own.
It didn’t even feel like an interview. More like a chat. Which was exactly what the email said it was going to be. The interviewer was my mom’s age, a total mom-like persona. She offered me iced tea before laughing and realizing we were on a video call. Her cat popped up halfway through her introducing several staff members by name. A large tabby whom she picked up and hugged to her chest. I wasn’t sure what to do except repeatedly say, “Aww.” and force an even bigger smile.
The woman who for some reason did not introduce herself finished the interview with a more formal and thorough talk-through of rules and regulations. Which went in one ear and out the other. I think I was too excited about the job as a whole. There’s something almost mythical about working at Starbucks. I’ve seen barista TikTok complaining about customer service and harping about in the back rooms. It looked fun. Plus, free drinks? I figured working at the famous coffee chain would at least have benefits and freebies.
The woman spoke to me for almost two hours about certain drinks, telling me I would be trained up, and then going on to explain the dos and don’ts in a working environment. It was kind of patronizing, but I figured she had to be to remain professional. I tuned out when she started talking about a certain “feud” they had with another store down the road. The woman didn’t go into detail, but her expression did darken significantly when she leaned closer to her screen and repeated the phrase, “Do you understand me?” I had to backtrack and try and go over what she had been saying, but I had found myself mesmerized by the gilded sword in the background. It hung from the back wall in all of its glory, and I was having a hard time trying to figure out why exactly a Starbucks manager had a sword hanging from her wall.
“Sim?” Inclining her head, the manager cleared her throat. “Did you hear me?”
I did. Sort of. Under no circumstances must I visit or go near 2nd Street Starbucks. If I did there would be dire consequences and I would face losing my job, or worse.
I wasn’t sure what “or worse” was, but from the way her expression twisted from funny-cat-lady to a potential employer, I didn’t want to ask.
Yikes.
“Uh, yeah,” I said. “I can’t go near the 2nd Street store.” I almost choked on a glass of water I had been slowly sipping throughout the interview. I had been sweating most of the day, dying in the intense June heat. It was a lot cooler in the evening in the city, but I was used to draining at least ten glasses a day. “Is that real?” I couldn’t help asking, pointing to the sword behind her.
I know you are supposed to maintain a certain professional persona and façade during professional work interviews with potential managers. However, I really wanted to know if that ancient thing was real, it was driving me crazy. Because questions were arising in my head: How did she get it? Was it hers? Was it for some kind of aesthetic and feng-shui, or was there more to it? From the look on the interviewer’s face, she seemed startled.
Whipping her head around, her strict grey ponytail hitting the screen, she nodded before turning back to me, her gaze flicking down to what I presumed was a script she was reading off—or maybe she was skimming through my printed-out resume. I wanted to ask her more about the elephant in the room, but she seemed satisfied with answering my question with a nod. She asked me more questions, mostly about my work ethic and if I enjoyed working in a team and independently, if I had any special requirements, and oddly—if I had ever held a firearm. Now, that caused alarm bells. Along with the gilded sword dangling from this forty-something-year-old’s lounge wall, I was definitely starting to question the exact nature of what I would be doing at this job. Serving coffee was an obvious one, though I was pretty sure Starbucks barista's didn’t require military-style training.
When I didn’t know what to say, she seemed to back-pedal. “Oh, it’s in case of a robbery.” She said. But her expression stayed stoic. Speaking in the tone of being joking, but not being joking. “It is rare. However, it is a precaution we must take.” Choosing her words carefully, the interviewer steepled her hands in front of her face, leaning her chin on her fingers. “Our employees are given basic fire-arm training in the instance that one day we may face a difficult situation. Now, I am not saying it is inevitable, but due to certain behavior throughout the years, it is, of course, better to be safe than sorry.”
“Oh.” I tried to smile. “No, I haven’t,” I paused, hoping my lack of ability to hold a gun wouldn’t screw up my chances. “But I can learn?”
I said it like a question because it was a question. I was questioning myself why exactly I would take up my time learning to shoot a gun I most likely never would need. To my surprise though, the woman’s smile brightened and she looked down at whatever she was writing.
“Of course,” she said. “Sim, I am very happy to hear that. We love employees who do their best to learn and thrive in our working environment,” she paused and typed something on her laptop before her gaze found mine. “I’ll put you down for lessons on Friday mornings. How does that sound?” Before I could answer her—because I was starting to seriously question why she was so obsessed with training me to use a goddamn gun—she was nodding to herself. “I will put Jude in charge of you. I think he is working on Friday, so your induction and welcome can be completed in the morning…”
She trailed off into her own murmured conversation to herself before clearing her throat. I jumped. I didn’t mean to jump, but her whole presence was putting me on edge. The lady had been nicer on the phone, and earlier on in the interview when she was grilling me on which Frozen character was my favorite.
“Okay!” The interviewer gathered up her paperwork, beaming at me through the camera. “Can you start tomorrow? Let’s say…” her eyebrows furrowed together. “5:30? I will not be there for the first hour due to certain obligations,” she traced her lip with the tip of her index. “However, I have four employees working the front desk, I’m sure they will give you a warm welcome.” I noticed something twitch on her lips. It was almost like she was trying to stop herself from laughing—which was childish from a standpoint where I was the younger one, while she was the senior. She was supposed to be setting some kind of standard, and yet for some reason was more inclined in teasing me about workplace friendships, and apparently how “close” my colleagues were. I wasn’t stupid, I knew what friendship was like in the workplace. It’s not “real” because you’re all there to do a job, not making lifelong friendships.
“I’m looking forward to meeting them,” I said when she snorted out a laugh that twisted up my gut.
"Absolutely," she responded. "The team is very close, so don't take it personally if they're initially cautious. I'm confident that you'll all become great friends! Kai is a kind-hearted sweetheart, while Ana may seem standoffish initially, but she'll warm up to you once you get to know her. Jude, on the other hand, will be your guide during the orientation, so it's best to stay close to him. In fact, it's recommended to shadow him during your first few hours since he's our top performer! Frankly, Sim, I can hardly wait for you to meet them! They're a great group!" This woman seemed to suddenly discover the use of expletives, or maybe she had noticed I visibly wanted to crawl into the ground. The way she was describing the other employees, I was expecting cartoon characters when I walked through the door.
“Right,” I said. I was starting to regret applying. “I’ll be there.”
She ended the call with a bright smile, and her stupid cat walking on the keyboard, causing her to squeak out in horror. I shut my laptop, my cheeks burning. Well, that went…? Well? Could I really say it went well when the manager had spent the last five minutes implying my work colleagues were going to hate me? Fuck.
I didn’t want to go. I trashed my application and deleted her number from my phone. But the morning after, however, I came to the quick realization through precious morning caffeine, that I needed cash. So, no matter how much I didn’t want to go—I had to. So, I headed to classes and tried not to think about it. It was 5:34 when I stepped into the familiar glow of the famous store—not before being stopped in the middle of a crowed by a girl wearing bright pink ray-bans and a scowl. “Do you work there?” she turned and pointed to the store.
I shrugged. “I guess.”
She scoffed, slipping off her ray-bans and fixing me with a bitchy smile. “Your funeral.”
Normally, in situations when strangers say odd things to me on the street, I just laugh it off. But this? This seemed personal.
“What?”
The girl didn’t say anything before turning and walking or rather running away.
Well, that was weird.
After that encounter, I was weighing the positives and negatives of taking up the job. The positives would be cash and something to occupy my mind away from classes, and the negatives were being stuck with insufferable colleagues and a manager who was the embodiment of unprofessional. The store was pretty empty when I stepped through automatic doors, reveling in the cooling fan blasting icy cold air in my face. A dark-haired college girl had her back to me, cleaning tables. But I noticed her stiffening up when I took a step forward. She straightened up like a cat going into territorial mode, before relaxing and holding a two-fingered hand up.
The store was empty so I had no idea who she was signaling to. It wasn’t a greeting to me—I had no idea what it was. I was halfway to the counter before a guy popped up out of nowhere, mid-way through drying a cup with a washrag. His hair was the first thing I noticed. Bright red.
In contrast to his pasty skin, this guy would definitely stand out in a crowd. He was my age or maybe a little older, mid twenties, with a wide smile and not much of anything else, kitted in a short-sleeved shirt, and a Starbucks apron over the top.
I expected quirky cartoon-like weirdos and I got an average Joe. I wasn’t complaining.
Initially, I thought this guy was just another jock-like college guy. But looking closer, the friendliness in his eyes wasn’t sincere, and his smile was strained. Keeping up a professional attitude, he regarded me with a smile, leaning across the counter. But his eyes kept flicking to the door in quick succession like he was waiting for a certain someone to come in. “You.” He pointed at me, trailing his finger to the door, swiping hair from his face with his hand. The guy was bouncing on the heels of his toes, I noticed. He couldn’t stand still, like a hyperactive child. “You’re Sim, The newbie I’m supposed to be training.”
I nodded, offering a nervous wave.
“Jude.” He introduced himself, though clearly distracted, his gaze flicking to and from the door. His facade was friendly enough, but very fake. It was the same smile I presumed he flashed at customers who complimented his looks. “Hey, Sim.”
Instead of holding out his hand for me to shake, he folded his arms across his chest. Jude cocked his head, drinking me in before his lips broke out into a beam.
"Shall we get started?"
Jude started the tour, showing me the store itself, then the back, the storage room, the staff room, and bizarrely, a wooden door which he referred to as, “The Drink”. I had no idea what that meant, but I made a mental note to steer away from it.
The backrooms of the store turned into a labyrinth. The place was covered in mold, peeling paint on the doors and old rugged floor tiles. Jude spoke way too fast like he was intentionally trying to confuse me. By the time I was struggling with my apron, he was turning on his heels with a brow raised. “Your hair is too long so you need to tie it up. You can shadow me this evening but don’t get in my way. We have two twenty-minute breaks and during them, we are contractually obligated to go down to the Second Street store and throw eggs at their windows—ooh, and the girl you just met who didn’t say a word? That’s Ana. You will get used to her.” His smile reached a level of fake I didn’t think was possible. “Why don’t you follow me?”
“What?” I managed to hiss out when Jude was leading me down a long, winding corridor that dipped into various rooms, out-of-order elevators, and the creepiest set of stairs I had ever seen leading into the pitch dark. I was still trying to register his words.
Jude twisted around with a frown. “What’s up?” He nodded at a passing blonde girl who shot me a smile, and hive-fived Jude before disappearing through a door.
“You throw eggs at the store down the road?”
The guy’s lip twitched into the start of a smile. He turned around, quickening his pace. “Did I say that? Obviously, I was joking.”
I stumbled after him, knocking into a dark-haired younger guy carrying a tray of cupcakes. He and Jude seemed to exchange words without speaking before Jude gestured to the stranger. Somehow, I figured out their telepathic conversation through eye movements and strained smiles, they weren’t talking about me. “That’s Kai,” Jude said, pushing through the doors back to the main storefront. He took a customer’s order, retaining that stupid smile. “If you need any help with making those annoying TikTok drinks that take a millennia to make and have probably broken several Geneva convention rules?” He playfully knocked into me while preparing a drink, his hands knowing where everything was, preparing and serving a latte in a matter of minutes, “Kai is your guy! He runs our social media page and is practically a connoisseur on the next big trend. He'll deal with zoomers."
I was slowly starting to ease my way into this job, and my colleagues seemed pretty cool. Jude actually helped me all the way through the evening, introducing his home life and how he grew up as he cleaned tables and conversed with the others—always throwing me into their chatting so I didn’t get left out. I ended up sorting through cookies and making price labels with Aurora, the perky blonde who high-fived Jude earlier. She spoke to me like we had been best friends for years, and that part of her charm made me instantly adore her. She was tiny for her age, but a menace when it came to her sharp tongue and language. I didn’t think a tiny thing like her could swear like a goddamn sailor, but it was cute. Jude and Aurora had a sibling-type thing going on, though every time I caught Kai’s eye, he was smirking. It seemed everyone knew they had a thing except them.
I was actually having fun with the others, bobbing my head to the radio while serving a group of kids, when Jude, who was next to me, seemed to go rigid all of a sudden. His laughing smile carved into something else. I had never seen an expression change so fast.
But he wasn’t the only one. Aurora, cleaning tables and giggling at Jude’s joke, straightened up, her eyes flashing to the door. Kai’s head snapped up from where he had been grinding coffee. Following their gaze, I found myself face-to-face with the manager who interviewed me. But unlike the night before, she was not smiling. The woman dropped her bag at the door before marching towards the counter. Jude leaned over; his expression apprehensive.
“Well?”
His eyes as well as his tone had darkened significantly. All of my colleagues had taken off these masks, these facades of joking smiles and bright eyes, and now I was seeing a glimmer of what they were hiding. What Jude had been looking for all evening, sneaking glances at the door. I watched his gaze follow the manager as she paced back and forth, chewing her nails. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know.” She finally said, lifting her head. Her lips were twisted. “But.” She said, spitting each word, as she rounded the counter, helping herself to coffee. “You’re going to pay a visit to them right now, and…and sort this out once and for all.” Her voice resembled that of a mother talking to her children. She was assertive to them, her eyes piercing. Do you understand me?” The woman nodded at Jude. “You can go.” Her eyes found mine. “Take the new girl, she needs to be inducted.” Finally, she turned to Ana, who was standing in the corner silently. “You are too. I need brains, and Jude is just brawn. Keep him on his toes, young lady."
With a hint of sarcasm in his tone, Jude uttered a brief "Thanks," and then proceeded to take a coffee cup and a Sharpie. Swiftly, he scrawled some words on the side of the cup, before placing it inside a bag and plonking it in front of me. As Jude reached for his coat at the back, he put it on over his green Starbucks apron, creating a striking contrast with his denim blue sherpa. With his mop of red curls, this guy was in no way going to be as incognito as he thought. "We'll manage the conversation,” he said hurriedly, visibly excited. Jude seemed to lead the others in their expressions, his confidence and wit causing them to brighten up, adapting wide smiles. He shoved his hands in his pockets, “All you gotta do is hand them this, okay?”
“Is that a good…” Kai drifted off on whatever he was about to say, ducking his head when Jude shot him a glare.
“I think it’s a perfect idea!” The manager beamed at me. “What a way to fully bring you into our family!”
I took the coffee cup (the empty coffee cup) hesitantly. “What is it?”
“It’s a gift!” Jude said, moving towards the door in long strides. It was all too noticeable that this guy was practically vibrating with an energy I had never known. It was almost manic. “I want to let them know we appreciate them! Y’know! Rival to rival.”
Kai stepped in front of him on the way out.
“Be careful,” he said in a low hum. Aurora joined him, but she wasn’t speaking, her left-hand tugging at the waistband of her jeans. “Keep your head down when you go in because they’ll be expecting you—and they’ll be expecting a retaliation.”
“Relaaaaax, it’s Cora! We used to date!” he cocked his head. "I think."
“I mean it. "
Jude’s gaze found mine for a moment before his smile grew. “Well, we have enough eggs don’t we?” He grabbed my arm, pulling me along. Ana was already gone. I could see her figure already slinking down the street, bleeding into the shadow.
When the two of us hit the cool night air and Jude quickened his pace into a power-walk, his eyes set forwards, jaw set, I figured I should ask what his deal was. If this guy was serious about vandalizing a rival Starbucks, and not just that, urged by his manager, then I had to say something.
The thought of ending up in jail being petty over a rival store made me feel nauseous.
“So, what is this about?” I asked, catapulting myself into a half-run to keep up with him. The guy had abnormally long legs, so he was halfway across the sidewalk while I was barely two steps in front. “Aren’t you taking this a little too seriously?”
Jude didn’t reply, instead remarking on the sky being filled with stars.
“Hey, Ana!” He shouted. “Wait up!”
Second Street Starbucks was like walking into a palace. I could tell why these guys were rivals. The place was a three-floored beast, a glass building made up of a Starbucks downstairs, a library, and a private apartment. I found myself mesmerized by the twinkling lights on the door, the mini water fountain through large windows showing an even bigger storefront with rich-looking wooden tables and reclining chairs. The store was closing. When we stepped in front of the door, there was a sign which clearly said CLOSED on the front.
Still, though, Ana pushed her way through it, followed by Jude, pulling me along with him. Two employees were working, a guy with short blondish hair mopping the floors, and a girl standing at the counter, going through the register. The moment we stepped inside, the guy cleaning up stopped mopping from side to side, his fingers visibly tightening around the mop handle. “Hey there!”
With one of his best fake smiles, Jude raised his arms in surrender. “We’re from the Starbucks down the road. We come in peace, don’t worry!” He gestured to me.
“Can we talk to your manager?”
He took a step, his lip twitching, eyes glinting, which caused a stir in the air. The girl at the counter stopped flicking through a wad of cash in her hand and delicately put it down, and the guy turned to face us with wary eyes.
As Jude took another stride forward, his movements resembled a dance, and I noticed he was having fun teasing them. His eyes sparkled with a childlike glee that was unexpected for a person in his twenties. "Would you like to try our latest coffee recipe? It's like sipping on liquid sunshine." He nonchalantly brushed his jeans, and I half-expected him to pull out an egg. “But…” Jude took another step, and Ana situated herself behind the blonde boy, her expression blank. “You’ve already tasted it, haven’t you?”
The girl behind the counter finally stopped counting cash, delicately placing a wad back inside the register before leaning forward, an amused smirk curving on her lips. “Jude.” Her voice was a low murmur. “I didn’t think I would see you here so soon.”
“Cora.” Jude’s lips quirked. “Trust me, I don’t want to be. But hey, it's the boss's orders.”
She inclined her head, her eyes drinking all of him in. The girl rested her fist on her chin. She was surveying him like a piece of meat. “And you obey her?”
His grin widened, and I saw his hand once again brush the front of his apron. “Like a dog.”
“You know her?” I hissed out, grasping hold of the coffee cup in my hand.
“Cora?” Jude turned to me. “Oh yeah, we used to be the Romeo and Juliet of coffee shop rivalry — back when we were both newbies, and our store kidnapped me as a last resort. To keep the peace, I stayed.” He shrugged. “That’s what I’m told, anyway.”
Starbucks lore was getting dark.
These guys had to be joking around.
I took a step back, eager to head towards the door and be as far away as possible from what I was pretty sure was going to be a lot of eggs, and several arrests. “You worked here?” I couldn’t believe my mouth was still moving and forming words as I took slow steps back. Before Jude caught my arm.
“Apparently.” He said, dragging me back by his side. “Why don’t you give ‘em’ their gift?”
Fuck.
Unwrapping the bag and pulling out the cup, I nodded and took slow strides toward the counter, placing it down in front of her.
Cora frowned, before picking it up, her gaze going to the side.
“Go fuck yourself 2nd street bloodsuckers.” She read out loud, her brow raising into her hairline.
Shit.
“I should probably go.” I managed to say, backing away. “I don’t think is the job for me—”
The latter half of my words exploded in my head when something slammed into my ears, a physical force sending me to my knees. Initially, I didn’t know what it was. It sounded like a nuclear bomb had gone off. When the ringing in my head subsided, I was aware I had my head buried in my knees, my hands clamped over my ears.
But when I tried to listen past the relentless shrill ringing in my skull, I heard them one after the other. Pop, pop, pop! Gunshots. The crack of each bullet ricocheted in my skull. It was a robbery, I thought dizzily. We were being robbed. No, Second Street was being robbed. When I lifted my head to try and find Jude and Ana to see if they were okay-- I expected them to be cowering like me, Jude, under the table, muffling yelling into his hand, and Ana, calmly pulling him to safety. But that wasn't what I saw. Instead, I must have been fucking imagining things. Jude had not moved from his spot-- and perfectly melded into his hand, was a gun. A gun he was holding like a pro, his hands wrapped around the butt, index teasing the trigger.
His trajectory was directly between Cora's eyes. Jude had not been the one who shot the gun. In fact, neither had Ana, who was still standing stiffly behind the blonde guy.
It was a girl behind the counter who had come out of nowhere wielding the type of gun I expected to see in movies. I noticed from his stance Jude had maybe stepped to the left and then the right to avoid being hit, but the way his demeanour was fully and completely relaxed sent shivers creeping down my spine. "The deal is off, Cora," he murmured. "You fuck with us, so we fuck with you." he lowered his gun slightly, his eyes darkening. "Where's Ren? He came here to sniff you out, so where is he?"
Cora seemed remarkably calm. She started to raise her hands, her lips forming the words, "I don't know what you're talking about" before she stopped, her body going limp. It took me a disorienting moment to realize Jude had taken the shot, followed by another, both landing right between her eyes. When Cora hit the ground, the whole world around me exploded.
I was dragged to the ground by Jude, as he dived across the floor, pressing himself into the back of a table, twisting around, and taking out the barista who almost shot me in the face. There were five of them, all of them good shooters. Too good. Ana easily took out a blonde and brunette with her own magnum, followed by a bald guy who crashed through the counter which collapsed under him.
Jude fell into a manic shoot-out with a guy who would not give up, and after several attempts, re-loading, and attempting to finish him from the ground, my colleague got tired and stood up, dropped his gun, and leaped across the counter. I didn't know what to watch. Ana, who was destroying their coffee machine, or Jude, who snapped the boy's neck with a single twist of his fingers, before ripping out his eyes. He hauled the dead guy over his knees, grazing his teeth across the pasty flesh of the boy's neck, his eyes flickering. I wouldn’t say they turned a different color, but there was something inhuman about them, a certain tint around his iris. "Urgh."
He shoved the corpse away, jumping up. "He reeks of it." Treading through broken glass and pooling red on the floor, my colleague grabbed a cup, downed it, and then spat it out. “That.” He sputtered. “Is the worst fucking thing I’ve ever tasted.”
Ana stepped in front of him, handing the boy his gun. “When one of any clan is murdered for with no reason, there is an imbalance, and the coffee is tainted. We must restore the balance before this gets out of hand,” she surprised me by speaking, with a tinge of an Aussie accent. The girl side-eyed me before shooting Jude a knowing look. “Don’t let her get in our way.”
“Aye, aye, captain.” He mocked a salute before nodding to me. “All right! Sim, you grab a sample. We’ll go find the altar.”
Something ice-cold slipped down my spine.
“What?”
“Cool it. It’s more fun than it sounds,” was all Jude responded with. “Grab the samples.”
I was running on adrenaline, doing exactly what he said. I grabbed two coffee cups. “What do we do now? We go home, right?”
He swiped at his lips with a sound of disgust. “Are you kidding? No, man. We get coffee which ain’t tainted.”
Ana took out two guards in the back before leading us both through a heavy metal door that led into tunnels, tunnels, illuminated by candlelight. “You just killed multiple people,” I finally managed to choke out, following the two of them deeper into the dark. “Over coffee.” I couldn’t resist a nervous laugh that spluttered into a cry. “You just murdered seven baristas over fucking coffee!” I found myself backing away at points, scanning for a way out, an exit away from this fucking nightmare.
Jude turned to me, the glitter in his eyes reflected in the candlelight. “Oh, please,” His voice echoed down the tunnel in a chuckle. “Do you really think this is just about coffee?”
I didn't understand what he meant until we came to the end of the tunnel, which dipped into an alcove leading us into a large cave-like room. Drawing his gun, Jude scanned the dark. "Anyone in here?" He said, and Ana hit him. Silence answered, and I found myself paralyzed to the spot. I didn't know what to stare at first. The ten-foot-tall Starbucks Siren looming over us, illuminated in flickering orange candlelight, or the old swimming pool filled to the brim. When I took a step forward, my foot sunk into something soft, and I made the mistake of looking down. Bodies.
I guessed that was "The Drink".
I felt myself fall back, but Ana's warm arms were guiding me away from decomposing flesh which decapitated heads poisoned in a way that I could almost call ritualistic. There were bodies everywhere, all of them curled up or had died in a position of prayer. Jude crouched in front of a guy still in his Starbucks apron. His eyes had been cleanly plucked from his skull. Jude's expression was beautifully sombre in the candlelight. "Fuck, dude," he whispered.
"Looks like they got you."
“Which explains how they got their hands on our recipe.” Ana pulled out her gun and clicked off the safety. The girl’s eyes were suddenly sad, her lip wobbling. I had a hard time believing a girl who had taken out three baristas at point-blank range was crying.
"Through him."
“What is this place?” I whispered. "What the fuck are you doing in here?”
Jude straightened up. Ana moved behind him, and I noticed her hands holding her gun were trembling. She raised her arm, pointing it at the back of his head. Jude didn't retaliate, only sending me a sickly smile. "It used to be ours," he said. "Until other stores started opening, and it became a fucking free-for-all." Jude sighed, rocking back and forth on his heel. Ana's trigger finger followed his movements. "We have a peace treaty..." Jude trailed off. "Sorry. HAD a peace treaty." He nodded to his colleague. "Second Street has always been obsessed with this particular blend we have that other stores don't." His lips curved. "They're greedy, and thought they could fuck with us. First, they took our last manager. He was like a dad to us. Sliced him up and sent us his head." He gestured to his friend. "And then they took Ren. They brought this shit upon themselves."
As he spoke, Jude dropped to his knees and closed his eyes, bowing his head in front of the Siren. Ana didn't move. "Are you ready?"
“Always.”
I screamed, slamming my hand over my mouth when this time when Ana shot Jude point blank in the back of the head. When his body crumpled to the ground, something inside me snapped in two, and I couldn’t breathe suddenly. I thought the two were playing some kind of sick game before I caught unmistakable seeping black pooling across the alter.
In the blur of orange candlelight, it was almost a mesmerizing sight. “Shush!” Ana sent me an annoyed look, before gathering his body in her arm. “Make yourself useful and grab a bucket,” she said, stumbling towards the pool. I watched her, my heart diving into my throat. When I didn’t move, Ana hissed out and twisted around.
“Did you not hear me?!” she yelled. “Get a bucket and start collecting it!” The girl gestured towards a large, rusted pipe looming over the pool, a stream of murky brown water leaking into the pool. When I started forwards, the girl shook her head. “Not yet.” She said, before heaving Jude’s body and throwing him into the darkness. I heard the splash, but I didn’t even see his body hit the surface. Part of me wanted to demand what the fuck she was doing, but I did what I was told, with trembling hands, grabbing a bucket and shuffling over to the pool edge. Ana hissed out again. “I said not yet!” Before I could speak, she held a finger to her lips. “Do it now!”
“The pool water?!” I shrieked.
She raised a brow. “You think that’s water?”
Before I could coerce some kind of speech, I was interrupted by what felt like a sudden earthquake. The ground rumbled under our feet, and I hesitated before dropping the bucket into the water and scooping up as much as I could. I quickly realized it wasn’t water. It was thick with the constancy of blood, coffee brown and yet sticky and warm like blood.
Above us, the pipe seemed to come to life, a brand new stream of murky brown solution coming down in a waterfall. I didn’t think about the pieces of flesh floating on the surface, the decomposing heads I caught bobbing around, or the fact that I was dipping my hands in blood. Coffee and blood. My stomach was trying to projectile my lunch, but I swallowed it down. I took advantage, managing three buckets before Ana was grasping my shoulders and pulled me back. I didn’t realize I was sobbing until she was handing me a handkerchief, and I was staring at her and it, like, “What do you expect me to do with this?!”
Still in shock, I tried to get another bucket full before she dragged me from the pool edge. “You can stop now,” she said. “We have enough.”
"Enough what?!"
I staggered back when the surface of the pool rippled. I don’t know what I expected to come out.
Dead bodies?
Decapitated heads?
Not Jude, covered in the brown murky shit I had filled the buckets with. When he broke the surface, I almost threw one of the buckets at his head. Despite being covered in coffee and blood, his skin was oddly free of flaws. The guy was also really naked, which should have been a minor problem compared to what I was seeing, which was a real resurrection in front of a ten-foot statue of the Starbucks siren. Which was completely normal.
But I still found my cheeks heating up. Jude ran a hand through soaked curls sticking over his eyes, shaking them like a dog before pulling himself out. I couldn’t help noticing there was no gunshot wound. It was almost as if his body was completely new. I took in abnormally grey-looking skin, like dead flesh, before averting my gaze. “Did we do it?” He gasped out, immediately covering himself. Once out of the pool, he knelt on the ground, sucking in breaths of air before seemingly realizing the state of himself.
“Fuck. I didn’t think this through.”
“I did.” Ana reached into the backpack she had brought, pulling out a shirt and jeans, reverting her eyes, and throwing him the bundle. “Get dressed.” She said, But there was a slight smirk on her lips. “Yes. I think we managed to appease them.”
“Sweet!” Jude grinned, dressing quickly. He sucked the tips of his fingers. “Mmm.” He nodded at Ana. “That tastes a lot better.”
He gestured to her, and to my disgust, the girl delicately licked his fingers and nodded with her own smile. “It tastes like cherry blossom.”
His eyes fell on me, and I saw that inhuman gleam in his eye—that had been very much there before he was resurrected in a pool of coffee. His lip quirked. I could still see coffee-- or blood dripping in thick rivulets down his temples and cheek. “Should we?”
Jude turned to Ana. “I mean while we’re here, right? We can induct the newbie.”
Immediately, I knew what he was talking about. I stepped back, but he was following me, getting closer and closer until his breath was in my face, and I was teetering on the edge. I sensed something in his eyes, something I never expected from a man who knew exactly what he was doing. Envy. Another step, and I would be falling into what I was sure was a pool full of decomposing bodies and resurrecting coffee. “Not now,” Ana murmured, and Jude snapped out of it, taking a step back.
“Buzzkill.” He muttered.
But he did step away, allowing me to inch away from the pool.
“Later,” Ana said. “She’s shaken up. We can do it first thing tomorrow.”
To my surprise, there were no cops at the scene at Second Street. Because there was no scene.
The store was back to normal, and I didn’t have the energy to question why. When we returned, Aurora wrapped me into a hug I tried to get out of as quickly as possible, eager to get the fuck away from that place. But. I had to finish my shift. I had watched a man resurrected by coffee in a fucking Starbucks shrine, and yet somehow I had to keep making drinks until my shift ended. It was nearing closing time when the doors opened, and I found myself face-to-face with the girl from earlier. The one wearing the pink ray-bans.
She didn’t say anything, but the blade of her knife grazing my gut told me everything I needed to know. With a knowing look when she slipped off her raybans, she pressed something into my hand before leaving, and I handed it to the manager, who opened it up, almost died laughing, and then threw it in the trash.
“You work for psychopaths.” I managed to get out, sidling in front of Jude while he was clocking out.
“Also, didn’t you… didn’t you fucking die?”
Jude didn’t look up from his phone. “It’s complicated.” His lip quirked. “You’ll find out tomorrow during your induction.”
“But… you work for these people!” I lowered my voice. “And you’re not trying to get away?” I gestured to Kai and Aurora standing by the door, the two of them locked in conversation. “None of you?”
Jude frowned, and I caught the first hint of annoyance. I had only seen this guy smiling, so seeing him scowling was quite the change. “I’m sorry, do you… do you think I have a choice?”
He surprised me with a laugh. “Me? A choice? You really think I wake up every morning and WANT to do this shit?” He got close, his breath in my ear. “You came here willingly. I didn’t. In fact? I don’t even remember coming here. My interview, my first day? Nothing. I don’t even remember my time at Second Street.” He threw a towel at me before I could coerce words. “Finish clearing up, all right? I’ll see you tomorrow for induction.”
There was something cruel in his smile like he was waiting for whatever my induction had in store for me.
I couldn’t help myself. When everyone was gone, and I was tasked with locking up, I picked the discarded note out of the trash, smoothing it down.
“You pieces of shit just declared war. Sleep with one eye open! 😊”
Cora xx.”
….
I cut my finger with a knife this morning. When I sucked it and grabbed a band-aid, I tasted coffee. I went home and threw up coffee.
I am peeing coffee.
I showered 8 times and I still fucking smell of coffee.
I don’t think I’m going to go to work tomorrow.
Edit: There’s been a break-in— and the manager wants me to come in early. Jude and Ana woke me up in the middle of the night to go over tactics. We are taking down Second Street during closing time.
I guess I am going to work tomorrow.
Does anyone know how to use a gun?