#every single comment is ESH
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ohohoboy. where. do. i. start.
u know how in mean girls cady starts to trust and confide in regina and admits to her like she likes aaron and regina hypes her up about it and then tells aaron how cady likes him and starts dating him? ya. thatâs pretty much what happened to me.
i guess i should start from the beginning. last summer was rough af for me. i lost my house, my grandpa, and then my job at tj maxx since i missed a lot of work due to trying to move and visiting my dying grandpa, so i was unemployed for a few months bcuz tj maxx was basically corporate edging me with saying they might let me back and me not applying for other jobs yet cuz i want my old job back only for them to two months later be like âyea nvmâ
so in august when i finally accepted the fact i wasnât going back to tj maxx, i applied to the highest paying place i could reasonably get as a broke college student with only one retail job under my belt - Taco Bell. got hired on the spot, bada bing, bada boom, orientation a week later, have to wait a couple weeks for my uniform to come in, then bam. i start working at taco bell in september.
around the same time i started so did another guy, for the sake of privacy letâs call him ben. i thought he was cute but didnât really notice him much since he seemed very shy and quiet (before he came out of his shell that is, then he became the life of the party at closing shifts), and since i was new, i was the same way. so we didnât really talk to anybody, let alone each other. and honestly, i thought he was too young for me lmao since he looks really young for his age. i deadass thought he was 17 and he turned out to be 22 (im turning 20 next month, for reference).
a couple months go by and weâve both opened up a lot more and are now cracking jokes with the rest of the crew and shit, and weâre being put on drive thru together pretty regularly. i start talking to him, i learn his name instead of just knowing him as âcute boy that bags the doordashs,â we kinda get to know each other better and genuinely have fun together. around november i caught feelings. i was the only member on the night shift that dressed up for 80s day and i was soooo embarrassed in my neon cut up t shirt but he was complimenting my outfit alllllll night and liked the photo in the work groupchat.
i started to just get more into him by the day, like, itâs hard to believe this all happened in a months time from when i started liking him to when i made a move. we would pretty much talk and joke together all night every night, and he would go out of his way to do things to help me out while we were working drive thru together, even as far as leaving the window to go get me a work jacket from the back cuz i said i was cold. i couldnât tell if he was actually super into me, or if i was being delulu (i was) cuz he was just a gentleman that was very sweet and friendly with every girl and the only reason he was doing it for me and not them was cuz we were working with each other all night (also probably at least partially true).
he started to seem really into me and i could not tell if it was him flirting or just being nice and it was just my delusions getting to me. so, i decided i wanted to ask him out. one night i was flirting reallllllyyyy hard (and thought he was too) and managed to get his snap.
so i would message him every once in a while and weâd have like the tiniest conversation ever, but it was always me initiating. this prolly sounds stalkerish lmao but itâs not like i was hitting him up with just âheyâ every night. i would ask him something for work, or let him know i made it home safe after i would drop him off on the nights he needed a ride cuz he didnât have a car at the time, and one time i invited him out with a group of friends from work. like seriously, itâs not like i was spamming this manâs phone 24/7, i messaged him 3, maybe 4, times in the span of like three weeks, with a relevant topic each time.
so one night when im taking ben home, early december, he talks about how heâs gonna pregame the work christmas party with some of the guys from work, all like 17/18 (meanwhile im 19), and he basically ends up inviting me and im like ayo bet. so the night i messaged him, i asked him if he wanted to hang out with some friends from work, and he said he would but he was out of town so i was like âok bet just donât forget to send me the deets about pregaming the christmas partyâ and heâs like âyou canât drink with us your underageâ to which im like what the fuck??? these boys are literally high schoolers but im too young? so i ask him im like âwait im confused lol i thought u were drinking with XYZ theyâre all underageâ and he says sum âthatâs differentâ so i asked him âhow so?â and then he unadded me. *insert roblox oof sound effect*
if u canât already tell im stoned af writing this.
anyways. i lowk thought he hated me and was switching between âomg im an awful person heâs mad at meâ and âfuck him he has nothing to be upset about i asked him a reasonable question heâs such an asshole.â and that my friends is what we call splitting. so at this point im vomiting blood day and night from my mood stabilizers (maybe if i just tolerated the bloody vomit a little longer the drugs woulda made me less delulu to the point that i didnât ask him out the way i did). so when im finally well enough to go back to work, heâs acting like nothing happened and im just like wtf bro i just spent the last three days literally crying vomiting and shitting blood over you. but thatâs not what i said i just kinda politely confronted him like âyo we chill? i saw u unadded me, just wanted to make sure i didnât do anything to upset youâ and he was like ânah we good, im sorry about that.â wanna know what he said next?
âmy girlfriend made me unadd youâ
yeah.
so i was like woah, woah, woah, back the fuck up - GIRLFRIEND? change of plans, im not going after a taken man, out of respect for him and his partner. BUT, if sheâs making him unadd random girls he works with, how long is this really going to last? the answer was a week. im pretty sure they dated for multiple years.
maybe im just delulu but part of me feels like i had something to do with it idk. cuz maybe she knew i liked him and decided to punish him for it cuz he would talk to me at work? idfk. i just think it seems like a real coincidence that a multiple year long relationship would break up exactly when i start hitting on him. bro i really feel like that quote like âi just ended a five year relationshipâ âomg are you okâ âyeah it wasnât mineâ rn bro.
so normally i wouldnât make a move so quickly when he just got out of a relationship like less than a week ago just out of respect, but he was already talking about girls and getting back into dating. wow i should have ran. holy fuck. itâs so much more clear now that im actually writing it out.
anyway. i had this sorta âi gotta get to him before other girls doâ attitude and decided i was going to ask him out at the team christmas party what the fuck. ya that didnât work out cuz i wasnât able to be alone with him all night and he was WASTED. all of our managers were here, my 17 year old coworkers smelled like weed, ben was drunk, my guy best friend thatâs like an older brother to me left like 5 minutes in cuz he got too drunk and threw up, leaving me to fend for myself, there was a pasta bar, i got a pickling kit from the white elephant that happened to be from ben. it was a weird ass night (but fun as hell).
the next night im off and im scheming again since the christmas party plan fell thru. i get a text. itâs my manager. she says âcan you come in tonight one of our closers had to leaveâ i say âsure.â i realize ben is working tonight. itâs time for the best worst idea ive ever had.
so weâre closing together and one of the other managers whoâs a fellow swiftie is there and weâre playing taylor swift during close. the entire time ive liked this man, ive been listening to enchanted on REPEAT. he walks me to the door every night when i leave. i plot it all out in my head. Iâll have our manager play enchanted, and ask him if heâd like to go out sometime while weâre at the door.
he said âprobably notâ
so i cried to conan gray but then put on my big girl pants and decided i had to get over him.
i did not.
around this exact same time, a new person joined our team. letâs call them sam. sam is 17. a lot of our team, especially at first, would and still do accidentally (most of the time) misgender them bcuz even tho theyâre fairly androgynous and use they/them pronouns, they still have a traditionally âfemaleâ name, wear makeup everyday, and have a high pitched voice not to mention the pick me girl energy. and who was the one defending them and correcting the person every time? me.
we started to get pretty close, we didnât talk outside of work but they were one of my closest âwork friendsâ and usually the person i was talking to at work if not ben, or my aforementioned guy best friend if he was still working, since he usually left earlier at night than i did. i end up trusting sam and confide in them about what happened with ben, portraying it not as a heartbreaking rejection but an embarrassing yet funny story that im now moved past and able to laugh about. we would joke about me having had a crush on him a lot and generally just had a lot of fun together, they made my shifts a lot more enjoyable cuz i felt like i had a friend.
one day they found my tiktok where i had posted a couple ambiguous videos that were about ben, just normal crushy sorta stuff the way most girls post tiktoks about their crushes. i was like lol ok whatever they already know, i trust them. and we would joke about how they found my tiktok at work and ben would be like âim gonna find BOTH of your tiktoksâ and i was like âhaha thatâs funny no the fuck you arenât imma kms if u doâ
now if he finds my tumblrâŚ. im fucked
lmfaoooo what the fuck, ive come too far to stop now
anyway, ben and i continued to be friends and everything went back to normal at work, but he never readded me on snapchat now that he was no longer with his gf. so in turn, we just didnât talk outside of work but constantly did at work.
one night, and this shouldâve been a bright fucking neon scarlet flag, sam was showing me something on their phone and in their camera roll was a screenshot from one of my tiktoks about ben. but i gave them the benefit of the doubt and was like âlmao why do u have thatâ and they were like âoh my sibling wanted to see what u look likeâ why??? what are you saying to ur sibling???
the trains are making dark ominous music sounds outside of my house rn and itâs fitting the vibe of the story a little too well
around this time i actually got into a relationship with what i thought was the girl i was going to marry. i did not. she blocked me on everything after i didnât quit vaping when she said i didnât have to for her and i told her i would if she wanted me to. but in this time i decided fuck this i hate Taco Bell, and was in denial that i still had feelings for ben now that i had a partner, and found a new job and decided to quit.
except taco bell basically begged me to work half a shift one night a week while working my new job, to which i said fine, cuz i needed the money, wanted to still get free employee meals, and knew i would miss (most of) the people if i just up and left. so i take a few weeks off to settle into my new job, and about a week in, my gf breaks up with me. and it settles in that, shit, i never got over ben and now i have to face him in a couple weeks with nothing to show for the four months i spent trying to get over him but the same infatuation i had before.
so after over a month off, i come back and the first person i see is sam who is like âomg hiiii i missed you!!!â i was especially anxious bcuz the weekend before, i had gotten white girl wasted and sent one of my other tbell work friends a video of me admitting i still had feelings for ben. i SAID i was âin love with him,â but thatâs just cuz i was drunk af, that shit was not love. according to my sister i talked about him all night after texting my ex and before vomiting up a spicy potato soft taco and being hypnotized into falling asleep and then waking up at 5am to brush my teeth and masturbate to five hargreeves fanfic, and i woke up with a new ring in my nose. so yeah. âtwas a night. i, once again, confided in sam. i told them i felt like everyone knew about the video, and even SHOWED IT to them (thank god i didnât sent it), and they reassured me that it was just my anxiety and no one knew anything about it.
a week later i see they posted a tiktok being petty towards âthe girl that has a crush on him and talks to me about himâ
ok now what the fuck.
excuse me, who was it that corrected all of our coworkers when they misgendered you? always stood up for you when they called you âbossyâ and âannoyingâ and were sometimes being straight up ableist about you behind your back, like when ben misgendered you and then called you a slur in the same sentence? and i quote, âsheâs a little r-rded,â end quote.
I SHOULD HAVE RAN LIKE THE DEVIL WAS ON MY HEELS. LIKE THAT SHOULDA BEEN THE END OF IT RIGHT THEN AND THERE.
but instead i said sum hannah montana âeverybody makes mistakesssssâ đŤŚ
and yet i still blamed myself! i was like âomg, i didnât know they liked him, i feel so bad for hurting their feelings, i wish they had trusted me enough to tell me! what did i do wrong to make them not trust me?â and the other half of me was like âlmaooooo who the FUCK does this bitch think they areâ
now i was like obviouslyyyyyy theyâre not dating duhhhhhhh hello theyâre 17 and heâs almost 23 that would be weird af. also their personalities�� idk it just doesnât make sense to me. but that would be a weird ass thing to post if thatâs not really your man, right?
guess what?
theyâre dating.
i show up to my shift like a week later and sam starts whispering and shit to one of our other coworkers and when i ask about it theyre âjokinglyâ like ânone of your business.â at this point im trynna play dumb and make them think i have no idea about the tiktok.
normally, i wouldnât intrude, but i KNEW ts was about me so afterwards i went up to this coworker (who im also very close to) and asked âhey, what was that about?â to which he replied âitâs not really my place to tell you the details, but their boyfriend is mad at themâ and im just like oh my GOD, they have a BOYFRIEND, i TOTALLY misread this situation, that tiktok wasnât about me! i donât even know their boyfriend! and as im turning to leave, the single braincell in my mind finally hits the corner and i turn on my heals and ask, âby the way, who is their boyfriend?â and this mf goes white as a ghost.
and heâs like âim not supposed to be telling you any of thisâ and im like âdonât worry, you didnât, i already knew from the tiktok, and your inability to confirm or deny anything told me everything i need to knowâ i straight up magic eight balled this bitch lmao. so at this point im like âwtf is wrong with samâ but also wtf is up with BEN dating a MINOR. heâs also a shift lead while sam is not. no wonder theyâre trying to keep it a secret, but then like, maybe donât post about it??? especially in a way that not only explicitly tells someone but also gives them a reason to wanna get u caught???
part of me feels like if i say something, im just a jealous bitch starting more drama and everyone will say itâs cuz i want him for myself. part of me feels like itâs wrong to not tell anyone, cuz this is basically grooming and as much as sam is acting like a cunt theyâre still literally a child and Iâm worried theyâll get hurt if i keep this to myself. part of me feels like management already knows and doesnât care, since heâs so close with them.
i ended up deciding to peacefully confront sam about it and essentially extend the olive branch. so i commented on the tiktok about me (maybeee not the best idea) basically saying âhey, i donât understand where this is coming from, i donât have anything against you and wouldnât have said anything if i knew, im happy for you guys im notâ in response to which they deleted the video and unadded me on snapchat. so ummm. thereâs that.
last that happened was i went to work and ben and sam greeted me and acted completely normal and nice to me like nothing had happened, though their âsecretâ relationship was much more obvious after knowing about it. im still not quite sure what to make of the whole situation.
TLDR: my friend from work that i told about the guy that i liked and asked out started dating him and posting petty shit about me
wow reading this makes me feel like i got played really hard
still canât believe i got regina georged at fucking TACO BELL
#turn this into a reddit post lmao#every single comment is ESH#writing this out made me realize there are so many red flags i am STUPID omg#extremely long story#fuck Taco Bell
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Am I the Asshole for totally refusing to read my friends fanfics?
(đđđ <- to recognize)
So me and my friend are both 15 (she is a few month older, I'm aroace and she isn't sure abt her sexuality yet, if that matters) so I'm not sure if this is just pretty teenager drama but yeah.
So this friend, I'll call her C, was the one who got me into like fandoms and fanfics and stuff and because we are in a lot of the same fandoms I often beta-read her fics before she uploads them to Ao3. And after she uploads them I usually leave a small comment on it to support her.
Now comes the problem: I am personally very uncomfortable with smut fics and I HAVE told her so repeatedly. She writes some occasionally and wants me to proof-read but I tell her I don't feel comfortable doing so. She then goes on about how she will have to find someone else to read it and how that is such a pain for her to do because god knows why.
Recently however, she just sends me the fics she wants me to proofread and doesn't tell me that they are smut. So I'll be halfway through correcting them and suddenly those two characters she likes are going at it. Every single time it happened it was so fucking upsetting and she just asks me to finish correcting it because I already started so she wouldnt have to look for anyone else. So by now I just refuse to proof-read her fics or read them after she publishes it, which is noticeable cause my comments are missing. This in turn makes her upset because I am not supporting her.
She then complained to our two mutual friends abt this and they are divided as well. One of them, who already knew C before we all met each other, was on C's side and claimed that I am not letting her cope. Cope with what? I don't know. The other one supports me, so our entire friend group is a bit strained now.
Sorry if I became a bit rant-y (is that the right way to say that?) or if I made some typos while writing this. I'm kinda upset still.
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Am I the asshole for not being able to vacation?
Every year since 2021, my whole family has gone on an expensive overseas vacation... except myself and my spouse.
Now, it isn't so much that I'm not welcome. My mom even offered to pay for our plane tickets and hotel. It's that we're not really able to go, even with those expenses paid, for a multitude of reasons.
1) My dog requires medical attention and I can't afford to kennel him.
2) I don't get enough time off from my workplace. They're usually gone for a whole month, but I only get 3 weeks off in a year- and that's if I have no sick days or unavoidable appointments I need that time for.
3) My spouse is cripplingly afraid of planes, and I would not feel right leaving them behind.
4) Why are we pretending covid isn't still an issue, this is still very much a concern, even vaccinated.
The first year this happened, 2021, my sister and her kids were going to go by themselves and invited mom and myself to join on our own dime. Mom was able to go and I wasn't, but that wasn't really upsetting to me, because the decision to go or not was spontaneous.
The next year, 2022, they all told me ahead of time they were going to do this and I thought, at first, I might be able to, but over the course of the year our dog got sick, my spouse divulged their fear to me, and I realized saving up the vacation time is unreasonable, if not impossible. I told them I couldn't join after all, but they still went, and I wasn't upset because I had been planning to go.
Then in 2023 they said they were going again and invited me again, and i was upset because I told them I couldn't and why the previous year, but apparently they didn't understand that these problems I have are permanent. I then made it clear that for the foreseeable future, joining them on such a vacation is impossible for me.
Now here is where I may be the asshole:
This year I found out they are going again and I freaked out. I accused them of shutting me out of the family, and told them they were all assholes for going when I can't.
Then my mom talked to me and said that my and my spouse were always invited, and it's always our decision not to go. She said that I was welcome to also make plans of my own, such as a road trip one day travel away, and we could do those as a family too.
But if I were to plan such a trip, I would be expected to plan one that I can afford my own expenses for, and money is really tight. I honestly don't know how my single-mom-on-one-income sister can afford to keep going with her kids (and yes, she's paying their own way, I asked if my mom was paying for them too and she is not).
Am I the asshole for believing that it isn't a family vacation if not all of us can go? Am I the asshole for telling them they are shutting me out of the family? Do I have any right to demand my family not go on a vacation when I can't?
#thank you for the submission!#polls#tumblr polls#aita#aita polls#aitah polls#poll blog#aitah#long post
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AITA For calling my wife out for never doing the hard chores
My wife (40F) and I (39M) have been married for 7 years and have 2 kids (4 & 2). We both work full time but have different schedules. I work a standard M-F 40-hour week. My wife's job requires her to work Saturdays so she takes random days off during the week to compensate. Both our kids are in daycare during the week.
When my wife takes a day off during the week, she will get chores done like cleaning, shopping, laundry, etc. Which is great that she can get that stuff done on her off days. But these are things that can also be done on the weekend. She will leave other, more labor-intensive chores for me to do on the weekend. We have a 1-acre yard so there is always yardwork to be done. And it is nearly impossible for me to do that kind of work on Saturdays when she's at work and I have the kids.
I've talked to her numerous times about doing yardwork on her days off when I'm at work and the kids are in daycare. But she refuses because "it's too hard." Which, yeah, I know. I'm the only one who does it. It's even harder when you're chasing around 2 kids. This means that I have to spend pretty much my entire Sunday doing yardwork. Every single week.
We've argued because she gets a work and kid-free day to herself to get things done. But she picks the easiest chores and leaves the hard ones for me to do on my one remaining weekend day. I work M-F, then have the kids by myself all day Saturday. I just want to spend some time on Sunday watching football and relaxing. But I can't because of the yardwork.
This past week, my wife took Thursday off and got some chores done. When I got home with the kids that night, she made some comments that pissed me off. She kept saying "We still need to mow the lawn this weekend." "We need to trim some bushes and trees and bring the brush to the yard waste site." "I think we should rake up all the fallen pine needles and pinecones to use as fire-starters."
I snapped at her and asked her which of those things she was going to do, since she kept saying "we." She got defensive and said that she is going to be watching the kids so that I can g
et that stuff done. I told her that I think she is using the word "we" incorrectly then, because it sounds like I'm going to be the one doing all of it.
She then went off about all the things she got done on her day off. When I told her that I could do all of those things on Saturday, even with the kids, but she refuses to do any of the hard stuff. I then asked her if she could tell me the last day she had the kids by herself when I wasn't home. She couldn't answer and called me a jerk.
I told her if I can learn to fold a fitted sheet, then she can learn how to use a rake, a lawnmower, a weed whip, etc. I also told her that I am going to start planning things for myself on weekends so that I have my own time, even if it means hiring a sitter.
She thinks I'm overreacting and expecting too much of her because the yard work is hard.
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đŁCrazy Capers #3đŁ
Imagine this: young, preteen kid strolling down the sidewalk, admiring the blue, polluted sky, graffiti on the walls passing by at a blur, and the patter of footsteps close behind him.
Okay, so...I wasnât strolling, or admiring. Maybe I was running instead? And admiring much of anything, including the final glimpses of the modern world Iâd ever see, was the last thing on my mind.
That was before. I donât think much about it now. Between the blood under the bridge and the homesickness for a place that I wouldnât fit into anymore...itâs all past. But hey! Yaâll wanted to know a bit more of my backstory, so there ya are. Or maybe you didnât and it was me wanting to prevaricate about myself. Eh, either way.
Hop, skip, and a jump later, Iâm in medieval Europe. Standing out worse than a sore thumb and causing a stir that bull in a China shop would be proud of. See, I thought I was all that and more back in the future. Street smart, alley wise, annoying punk of a kid, but always one step ahead. Here? Just a punk kid whoâs gonna get his throat slit before the first hello. In short, I was terrified.
Bright copper hair that didnât blend in well with the brown, black, and blonde majority, strange speech coupled with an accent, a lilt I was in the wrong country for, and a penchant for troublemaking that didnât stop just cause I was in way over my head. Donât know what mightâve happened to me had not a bored gentleman decided to take me home. Had I been better off in a gang of pickpockets? Maybe. Probably wouldâve lost my hands by now. Or maybe Iâd have joined a circus. Youâd see me performing death defying feats on the trapeze before one day taking it too far. What ifâs that are too late to consider. Oooh what if thatâs you showing up here one day? I do wonder what life yaâll mightâve stumbled into should you be inclined to make a trip into this era. Maybe leave us a comment, eh?
Back onto the gent and what soon became his neverending source of headaches. Thatâs what he said, but Iâm pretty sure he was laughing behind his third wine glass.
We get to his house and guess what? The gent wasnât just some hoity toity rich dude. He lived in a massive fortress I later learned was called The Citadel. Youâd think the scary lookinâ doors, weird stains on the stones, and butt ugly gargoyles would give me the clue that I should be running. Nope! Not so much...
Having seen Hunchback of Notre Dame, I wanted to go exploring. Learn every nook and cranny of this place as fast as possible, make friendsâyes I know theyâre imaginaryâwith the statues, and traipse about the crenels. Pretty sure by this point I thought the man had to have been a lord of some sort, maybe even the king! ...But deep down something felt off. Once the adrenaline wore down, I was paying attention to the people giving my supposed savior deferential bows or avoiding eye contact. Respect wasnât the feeling I got off these folks. Fear...flinching when the well dressed man adjusted his cloak or spoke to one of them.
The ones who werenât practically hugging the walls to be on the opposite side of us...they were strange too. I get that this is a whole other time period so like everyone is gonna be strange to me, especially as a kid. But these guys, Iâm telling ya! It was like...they were dead.Â
An oppressive gloom surrounded them, sucking the light from flickering lamps and the warmth from oneâs own bones. Some of them appeared jovial enough, a grin or leering smirk cheering their pallid faces. Had I believed in such, mightâve considered them to be vampires. Time travel was one thing though. I wasnât going to start with creatures of the undead. Those eyes though. The spark was gone. You know? That merry twinkle when you smile and are happy that means you havenât met your maker yet? Yeah...that. Not there.
Decided Iâd had quite enough of this creepy place. Something was seriously wrong with these people, and even if I did end up losing my hands, at least Iâd still have my soul. Or whatever you wanna call that sparkle.
The thought hadnât fully formed in my mind, but before I could duck out, the manâs hand had wrapped around my arm in a vise grip. It was like he was a frickinâ mind reader!! I looked up into his eyes, my voice muted by fear. Realizing too late he had the same dead, empty eyes as the others and my fate was sealed.
đđđ
Fast forward a few years. Sure got to know The Citadel real well. Top to bottom, side to side...from scaling the exterior of its stone face and the mountain it was built on to traversing the interior unseen by its occupants. Comes in handy for more than just training...escaping where even those sharing the domicile canât find me is definitely a plus.
Couple of things changed. Lilting Irish accent remained, but my haircut went from the short style of the modern age to...uh, is shaggy a style? I cut it myself every so often. Hey! And even comb it on occasion too! So proud of myself. *Nearly breaks arm patting my back.* đ
Canât remember now if I ever tried giving them my real name. They never used it. Sure gave me a litany of options though!! Scalawag, miscreant, rogue, caitiff...and so on. My fav was Rapscallion, so I started answering to that. Smart bunch, they are! Picked up real quick when they actually wanted my attention which name they should use. Didnât hurt their pride half as bad if they thought they were being demeaning when asking for me, but they didnât understand. I wear this name as a badge of honor. Win win!
Still a kid, really. Not quite left my teens, but Iâd learned a lot. The regular stuff, you know.Â
Things like, never to let anyone get close emotionally cause theyâre weak and can be used against you. If theyâre a fellow assassin and have half a chance of not being captured, tortured, and killed to control you, then your partner is definitely using you.Â
Then thereâs the physical stuff, which soooo many of these peeps think they can get into without becoming attached. Idiots. For argumentâs sake, letâs say they donât get attached. Youâre letting another human being into your personal space. On purpose. You are putting yourself into a vulnerable situation where quite often, youâre not wearing clothes. Which means no weapons hidden away with which to defend yourself with. Ya think your partner doesnât know about the one under the mattress? No semi protective layers from glancing, tainted knife blades or poisoned darts. Nothing. Really?!Â
Iâll tease your socks offâer stockingsâand make a lady lose her cool with suggestive flirting and a touch here or there. Maybe it was just my training and theirs didnât cover it? I dunno. But I canât let anyone get close. Any more than Iâll eat food I havenât seen prepared or drink a strangerâs mead: Iâve seen too many of my fellow assassins lose their lives to lust. Allowing a person to break that personal space for more than a few secondsâ time. Even arrogance hasnât killed as many, and thatâs saying something.
Thereâs another factor making it untenable to me...being betrayed by a loved one or losing them because of your occupation is one of the fastest ways to lose your spark. Kicks you into the maw of darkness; no passing Go or collecting two hundred dollars.
Well, back to the reason for all the name calling. Once Iâd been told what these guys do, and that Iâd be this dudeâs apprentice, there were some basic ground rules I laid out. Course, none of them mattered a single bit to my mentor. In time though it did help him understand some of my...quirks. Still didnât care, but that was alright.
Rule one: I wouldnât end up fish eyed and lookinâ all zombie like. Mentor didnât mind, cause I was never allowed to play a prank on him. Nobody else wanted to âallowâ it either, but their laws said they couldnât kill me. Didnât mean they couldnât make my life a living hell. Finally saw something spark in one of their eyes though! Gave me a glimpse that they werenât all the way gone yet, so I kept annoying them, learning new ways to avoid repercussions...and learning coping techniques for what things I did outside The Citadel or were done to me that I couldnât deal with. Thereâs a reason they looked as they did. They didnât want to feel...but I wasnât ready to give that up. Ya see that crazy gleam in my eye, and youâd better watch your step!! Hahaha!
Since the people I stayed with were definitely on the more affluential side of things, they had access to the best of whatever food they wanted prepared. Being from the future, I had an idea of what eating rich meals would get me. Gout is not pretty. Not to mention the whole eating what I havenât seen prepared thing and...well Iâve hung out in the kitchens a lot. Learned to like fresh things if I donât have time or inclination for cooking. Itâs a long process here without microwavable meals. Favorite is fruit, especially those with a peel. But Iâll eat just about anything, and learned of some unusual looking stuff we donât see in most modern supermarkets.
Annnyway, my life probably appears pretty odd to regular folk. Hey, itâs been called...esh. Letâs maybe not get into what my coworkers want to call it. They certainly donât approve. Iâm alive though! More than I can say for most of the walkers wandering wide corridors with vapid smiles and dire thoughts. If youâre still reading and curious about that guy from the first storyâthe one who interrupted a would be lesson?âstick around. Heâll make his debut in the next installment of my absurd tales. đ Thanks for hanginâ with me!
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A New Love for Charlotte (A Wells Landing Romance Book 11) by Amy Lillard
Book Description:
Renewed faith and happiness await three generations of women in this heartwarming series from Amy Lillard, set in the Oklahoma Amish community of Wells Landing . . .
 With her daughter newly married, widow Charlotte Burkhart should have been content to find a companion for her later years in Amish widower Glenn Esh. Yet, Charlotte longs for more than life has offered her thus far. When she discovers a baby on her doorstep, the child seems like the miracle Charlotteâs been praying for. Unfortunately, Glenn doesnât feel the same way. Whatâs a single woman aching to experience motherhood once more to do?
 From the moment Paul Brenneman sees Charlotte Burkhart with a new baby, he senses his lovely neighbor and the sweet child are meant to be. Which is why he offers to marry Charlotte and make her adoption dreams come true. No stranger to heartache himself, the stalwart widower knows second chances donât happen every day��especially not with a woman like Charlotte, the first woman in a long time who has him taking a leap of faith that happily-ever-after is still possible . . .
 About the Author:
Amy Lillard is an award-winning author of over forty novels and novellas ranging from Amish romance and mysteries to contemporary and historical romance. Since receiving a Carol Award for her debut novel, Saving Gideon (2012), she has become known for writing sweet stories filled with family values, honest characters, a hometown feel and close-knit communities. She is a member of RWA, ACFW, NINC, and the Author's Guild. Born and bred in Mississippi, she now lives with her husband and son in Oklahoma. Please visit her online at www.AmyWritesRomance.com.
My Thoughts: Â A Real Winner
Charlotte is a widow who lives with her mother-in-law, Nadine. Charlotte has been having difficulty adjusting to various changes in her life. Her daughterâs recent marriage and Nadineâs possible upcoming marriage have Charlotte feeling sad as she faces the prospect of being alone. She is saddened even more when she receives information about further changes that she will have to face. Charlotte continues to struggle with these situations while opening her heart to finding love.
Just when things seem to be moving along for Charlotte, she receives a very unexpected surprise. A baby is left at her doorstep. The arrival of the baby is a game changer that results in Charlotte having to do some deep digging into her new found love, her faith and Godâs will.
I found this story to be extremely heartwarming. Its messages of love, trust, faith, and hope tugged at my heartstrings and completely pulled me in. Any story that can do that is a real winner in my book (no pun intended), and thatâs exactly what A New Love for Charlotte is, a real winner.
*****I received a complimentary copy of this book.  All comments  and opinions and are strictly my own.*****
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Iâve been considering posting things I write for a while now, so hereâs something that I wrote as a school assignment once and ended up really liking so here it is.
Eshe and the Bees:
Aaron was in what his grandmother would call âA pickleâ, and that âpickleâ being his family farm failing so terribly he wasnât even sure where to begin to fix this. The farm had been in his name for a year now and has been the most difficult year of his life. He had watched his grandmother tend to the farm his whole life without issue, had helped her tend to it his whole life, but almost as soon as she had passed last year the farm had started to slowly die as well and Aaron was at a loss for what to do.
      His grandmother, always the bright woman, had left him binders full of notes on how to take care of the farm; little things that he hadnât known before now and phone numbers that he would need when it was time to sell products, but then there were things that didnât make sense to him. There were a few notes scrawled in the marginâs that said things like âIF YOU NEED HELP CALL ESHE,â and a recipe for a pound cake that he was sure was supposed to go in her recipe books instead of her work books. Aaron had absolutely no idea who Eshe was or why he would need to call them and therefore waved that note off as well. There was no phone number for Eshe either, so he safely assumed it was nothing too important. None of his grandmotherâs notes said anything about what to do if all the plants started to die without warning.
      The animals that the farm raised were doing swell, the cows and the goats still producing fresh milk, they were all as healthy and active as they should be, the hens still laying good eggs, but the plantsâŚthe plants were another story. Aaron had done everything he could think of to help them; heâs tried three different types of soil, heâs tried a different watering system, heâs tried everything and the plants still wilt and rot. He had one of his grandmotherâs old friends come over to look at the plants and when the older man couldnât find the root cause of the problem, had merely shrugged and suggested trying to plant new crops. It was getting to the point where he was considering selling the property out of spite (for obvious reasons he could not have done that but it was a nice threat in the back of his mind).
      It wasnât until an early January morning that Aaron found out why his farm was doing so poorly and how to fix it.
      Farm life required early mornings; getting up at sunrise so that he could get work done quickly and making sure that all the animals had food ready for them when they awoke. Aaron was just waking up and heading to the kitchen when he noticed that the lights were still on, and there was no one else who could be in the house aside from him and the dogs he owned. Aaron did the most logical thing that he could think of and grabbed the baseball bat he had lying around for reasons like this, and crept into the kitchen as silently as one could creep in a house with creaky wood flooring.
      What Aaron found and what Aaron was expecting were two completely different things. He expected someone to be rifling through his things; taking what they could get their hands on and possibly attempting to murder him. What Aaron found was a woman with ebony skin drinking a cup of coffee and angrily tapping away at a cellphone, a basic smartphone, it would do enough to multitask, with a case shaped like a bumblebee, sitting regally at his kitchen table, unaware that he was standing in the threshold with a baseball bat. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a bun, and her nails had dirt embedded so deeply into them he was sure it was more pain than it was worth to try and clean them.
      âUmmm?â He asked, unsure of what to do.
      The woman looked up from her phone and glared at him for reasons Aaron couldnât figure out. âWho are you? Where is my cake?â She asked, dropping the device roughly onto the table. âIt has been a year, and we had a deal. Where is Maria, we must have words.â Her voice was harsh and demanding and Aaron wasnât sure who had broken into whose home at this point.
      âUmmm?â He asked again, unsure of what was going on.
      She snapped at him a few times. âMaria, boy, where is she? We had a deal and I havenât gotten my payment in a year. I demand answers.â
      Aaron slowly lowered the baseball bat and scratched the back of his head. âGrand-Maria, died a year agoâŚMaâamâŚâ
      The woman took a long sip of her coffee and made a humming sound. âSit down, boy.â She said, pointing to the chair across from her. âWe have things to discuss.â Aaron wasnât sure why he was listening to the woman, but he put the bat down, made himself a cup of coffee, and sat down across from her without saying a word.
      Neither of them said anything for a long time, silently drinking their coffees and tapping away at their phones until the silence was too much and Aaron asked a question.
      âWho are you, exactly?â He wondered, looking at her closely. Heâd been living with his grandmother since he was born and didnât remember ever meeting this woman or hearing about some deal that his grandmother had made with anyone.
      âMy name,â The mysterious woman began, âIs Eshe and I am a goddess of fertility.â She spoke the words slowly but surely.
      There was more silence for one heartbeat, two, three, four, and finally-
      âYouâre kidding me.â Aaron said without hesitation. He believed a lot of things; he believed that a god existed, and he believed that science could explain almost everything, but this was too much even for him.
      The woman, Eshe, huffed angrily, nostrils flaring at him. âI beg your pardon?â She hissed out. âHow dare you say that to me.â
      âExcuse me? You broke into my home!â He shouted, louder than he probably should have.
      âI have an open invitation to come into this home whenever I please to come into this home! Did your grandmother tell you nothing of me?â Eshe looked him dead in the eye, a trait that Aaron had always found intimidating.
      Aaron remembered the note, but that didnât help with anything. âThereâs only been one mention of you; a note telling me to call you if I needed help but nothing else. Are you going to explain things to me, or are you going to continue to make vague comments all morning? I have a farm to tend to.â
      A scoff and a lazy wave of a hand in the air. âA farm that is dying, because you have failed to make the proper payments.â She laughed out, not harshly, but amused by the situation. âCalm yourself, boy, and I will tell you a tale from sixty years ago.
      âWhen your grandmother, Maria, moved here with her new husband they had no idea what they were doing, their crops would not grow, and their animals would get sick so easily they could not keep them alive, and so they prayed for some sort of help, any kind really. Kind and generous as I am, I came to your grandmother one morning while she was making breakfast and struck a deal with her. Once a month she is to leave me a fresh, homemade cake, any sort of cake, and I would keep the farm thriving for her and her family. It was a simple enough deal you see, payment was easy and all I had to do was keep things alive. Easy. But, a year ago today the cakes have stopped being left out for me; I figured that there were some slightâŚmobility issues, Maria was getting rather old and I was allowing a grace period of two months and if the cakes stopped coming I would stop nurturing the farm. It has been a year; your farm is dead.â
      Aaron could see how it all made sense, could even understand why his grandmother had left that random cake recipe in her binders now. He didnât know how to bake though, didnât even like sweets. What was he even going to tell her?
      âWould you like to make a new deal with me, boy?â Eshe asks, standing to make another cup of coffee. She rummages through his cabinets like sheâs lived here her entire life, and pulls out a large container of honey before squeezing a generous amount of it into her coffee.
      âMy name is Aaron.â He says, weakly.
      âAnswer the question, boy.â Eshe chides him, and goes about her business in the kitchen. âYou can have a functioning farm again, or you could lose everything your grandmother has built and we both know how sad that would be.â She says offhandedly.
      Aaron watches her buzz around the kitchen for a few more minutes before she sits, and looks at him knowingly. âWhat kind of deal are we talking about?â He asks.
      Eshe hums contently. âWhat do you think about bees?â
Not really an answer, but heâll take what he can get. âI donât care for them.â
      âWrong.â
      âWrong?â How could his own opinion be wrong?
      âYou love bees, youâre deeply invested in taking them off the endangered species list, why you even have a few bee hives in your farm and give money to the Save the Bees Foundation every month. Itâs all very noble of you, boy.â Eshe smiles at him slowly, and picks up the forgotten phone and taps away at something.
      âIs that my deal? I take care of bees and you take care of my farm? Why bees? I donât like bees.â Aaron tells her. He doesnât know who she thinks he is, he canât afford to give money to a foundation every month when his business is doing so poorly.
      Eshe doesnât look up from the phone, which bugs Aaron slightly. Why canât she just give him her full attention? âDid you know that weâve lost 44% of bee population over the summers of 2015 and 2016? And that the number of bees lost grows every single day? If someone doesnât do something soon thereâs going to be a big problem.â She says it like itâs the only thing that matters.
      âIf youâre a fertility goddess why arenât you helping some poor couple have a baby or something?â He asks, annoyed by the entire situation.
      Eshe looks up at him blankly. âCouples who want to have babies arenât my problem. There are other gods and goddesses that they can pray to, but I donât bother with them unless I need to. My concern is for this world and whatâs happening to it.â She tells him firmly.
      âBut why bees? Why not something else?â Aaron asked.
      Eshe groaned. âBees are one of the most important creatures on this earth; without them we would have next to nothing. Your plants will not grow, which means that your animals have nothing to eat, which means that you have nothing to eat and without anything to eat you will die. To put it in simpler terms for you, boy, everything you value will perish.â
      The two had a stare down, and Aaron wanted to say that he stood his ground the whole time, but Esheâs gaze won out and he gave up.
      âHow do I save the bees?â Aaron pondered.
      Eshe returned to her phone, an annoying habit of hers. âThe confirmation emails should be coming in any minute now.â
      âWhat emails? Are you always this cryptic? How did you and my grandmother get along?â Aaron knew he was asking too many questions, yet didnât have it in him to stop himself.
      âYou ordered a bee colony, and a few books on bee keeping, and youâre organizing a Save the Bees rally; it really is such a kind thing for you to do if I must say so myself.â Eshe smirked up at him. âYour grandmother would be so proud.â
      Dozens of thoughts were running through Aaronâs head at once. He wasnât sure that he had heard her correctly, but he was almost positive that he had heard every word she said crystal clear.
      âSo, bees are just going to show up at my house one day?â He asked.
      âMarch first, to be exact. You canât start a bee hive in the winter, you see, you have to wait until it gets warm or theyâll die and we donât want that.â Eshe told him. âYou can use the time in between to start learning about bees, and how to properly bake.â
      âCan I just buy you a cake instead?â
      âNo.â
      âYouâre really not helpful at all.â Aaron told her.
      Eshe shrugged. âIâll be back in a week for my cake, and weâll have another talk to see if youâve learned anything useful.â
      âWhat about my farm?â Aaron asked.
      âYour farm will be back to its former glory when I know youâre invested in this, or when I get my cakes. Whichever one comes first.â Eshe finished her coffee and stood up.
      âDo I have any choices in this?â He knew he didnât, it was nice to ask though.
      She stared down at him and then vanished.
      Aaron was left confused and intimidated. He needed more than a week to figure things out, and to process what had just happened to him. He didnât believe a thing Eshe had said, there was no way that a goddess had been in his home. She had just up and vanished and now that he was thinking about it, he was probably just hallucinating. He decided that, after feeding the animals and doing the basic things that needed to be done, he would go to sleep. When he woke up he would forget all about the events of the morning. Yes, that would work.
      When Aaron checked his phone later that night there were ten confirmation emails for books about bees (and one cook book), and two bee colonies were going to be delivered to his farm. There was a new text on his phone from a number that Aaron didnât recognize, and when he opened it the text was made up of those stupid emojiâs that Aaron roughly translated into âBoy learns about bees, Boy saves worldâ. At that point, Aaron resigned himself to this life...after all, Aaron only had to waitâŚand learnâŚ
      The books came two days later, and by that point Aaron has given up tending to the crops and focused on the animals, which meant that he had plenty of time to read the books that Eshe had gifted him. Bees, Aaron found out, were more interesting than he had originally thought. They were such small creatures but they were so important to the world. All his crops needed bees to survive. Without them half of the farmerâs market would be out of business. Aaron was by no means a scholar, he didnât feel the need to look things up if he didnât have to know them; but there was something pulling him towards this, something telling him that he needed to do more, more, more.
       Eshe was spread out on his couch the next time he saw her, a book in hand and a plate full of honey cake resting beside her. âThis is probably the worst cake Iâve ever had.â She told him in greeting.
      Aaron made an offended sound in the back of his throat. âHello to you too, Eshe.â He threw himself on the chair across from her.
      âWhat have you learned, boy?â She asked.
      Aaron thought about the last two weeks of his life, the questions that he had going through his head since she had shown up in his life. He had looked up the name âEsheâ on Google one night and came up with an African goddess of fertility, known to most for helping anyone who left sweets out for her. He didnât want to believe her, it was the most ridiculous thing that had happened to him, but things were in her favor. He had learned a lot, but was it what she wanted him to know?
âBees are more important than I am.â He hoped that she would say otherwise, but doubted that she would say anything against the claim.
      She hummed approvingly. âAnd so, what are you going to do?â She prodded gently.
      âSave the bees.â Aaron said confidently. It was the only real answer he could give. Save the bees, save everything thatâs linked to them, save the environment that is slowly but surely collapsing.
      Another approving hum came from the couch. âI heard that thereâs a company selling bee t-shirts, all profits go to the foundation.â
      Aaron knew where this was going before she could say anything. âHow many did I order?â
      âSeven, one for every day of the week.â
      Aaron shouldnât be surprised that she would push seven bee themed t-shirts on him, but he was. The two sat in relatively peaceful silence before he had to ask her another question. âWhy canât you just save them? Save all of us this trouble.â
      Eshe closed the book and let it rest on her stomach. âIf I could fix this I would have fixed it before it was an issue, but it doesnât work that easily. Man caused this problem, man can fix it and they will fix this. The most me and my fellow gods can do is push you the right way and hope that you get the hint.â She reached for the cake and poked at it with her fork.
      Aaron thought about the ice caps that were melting, and the Great Barrier Reef dying and all the things Eshe had told him. Bees were only part of the bigger picture that she had been trying to paint for him. It sounded like she was asking a lot from him, and the research and planning was taxing, but taking care of the bees would be easy. Check on them every other month or so, harvest the honey in the fall, and make sure that they were safe and in return his farm would flourish. Easy, easy, easy.
      âHow would someone set up one of those fundraisers?â He asked her.
      Eshe grinned. âI thought you would never ask.â
#Original things#personal#Eshe and the Bees#writing things#I love Eshe because I made her as ace as possible#ace character#Eshe#Aaron the dumb farmer#save the bees
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AITH for correcting an ethinic student about my hair?
First of all, I say ethnic because i honestly have no idea what their race is. She is a beautiful, dark skined girl with gorgeous curls, but not aftican american skin (Mediterranean maybe?) so saying black felt wrong (if this alone makes me the A-hole tell me in the comments, just trying not to assume things about people.)
Anyway, I (33f) work at a college as a professional aid/assistant. I have naturally aumber/deep red hair. I have Irish, Scottish, and mixed European ancestors. My hair is mixed texture ranging from 2B, 2C, and 3A in different sections (its a hot mess but in a good way okay lol). My hair type comes from my dad's side of the family (he alwayss kept it short) so my mom had no idea how to identify or care for textured hair. I grew up with the standard of wash every day/every other day and brush frequently. Needless to say, my hair was a frizzy mess growing up, and through high school and college I straightened it constantly.
Upon growing into my 30s i realized what my texture really was and educated myself on its care. I now properly care for it (admittedly, at a minimum because I'm lazy). I wash and heavily condition with curly products, minimum rinse, minimum dry, and sleep in a plop. If i feel ambitious i add curl gel or use refresher spry between washes. Thats it, but my waves/curls are beautiful to me and I'm happy.
Enter the student in question (T). After an exam she approached me (i was immediately post wash day so my hair was the most wavy/curly it ever is) and asked to speak to me in private. I thought nothing of it as students often speak to me about their concerns or struggles in classes. T started telling me i am being inappropriate and insensitive for wearing my hair like I do. That it minimizes and appropriates her culture. I was stunned. In told her my hair was naturally like this and she kind of laughed at me, saying it wasn't possible for white people to have hair like mine naturally, and that she knew i had straight hair before (a couple years ago when i was straightening it, i guess?).
I explained my heritage and how i had only recently learned to care for it. I even told her my routine. She called me a liar, and i admit i lectured her after that. I went on about how lots cultures historically had naturally wavy/curly/kinky hair and it was no owned by a single race.
T called me a liar and said i was being insensative to she and her friends. I said sorry but that's just how it goes and i love my hair. She stormed off. The next week after class a group of T's friends came up to me and said i was rude and insensitive to her, and that i needed to be more continuous of their cultural struggles (i won't try to name their race/cultural because they were a diverse group of like 7 ethinic students).
I was not trying to minimize anyones culture, just educate that hair culture can be diverse and doesn't care about skin color. Was that an A-hole move? I mean, i'm paper white and have curly/wavey hair, them saying that its racist to be myseld is actually pretty hurtful to me.
What are these acronyms?
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wibta if i asked someone to adjust how theyâre writing a blind character?
this is also rp related đ iâm 24. you can use any pronouns for me. iâm legally blind and use screen readers to navigate the internet. i work from home which gives me a lot of freedom, so i fill my time in multi fandom rp servers. theyâre a lot of fun, usually
in one server iâm in, thereâs someone (28nb) writing a blind character. itâs not an oc of theirs, and the source the character is from is sort of⌠bad at handling the characterâs disability. not offensively bad, itâs just obvious the writers didnât put much thought into it
i know the person writing the character is not blind. here is my problem: the way they write this character concerning their disability is just⌠itâs really uncomfortable. the first thing i noted was that they went out of their way to mention the character is blind at basically every opportunity. most conventions the character is in they end up bringing it up, like itâs the default topic they turn to when roleplaying the character. and obviously, as a blind person, i understand itâs a big part of our lives, but to bring it up every single conversation? they had the character make an offhand comment about how they would probably struggle to learn the names of the stores in the area (??? i assume because they wouldnât be able to read the signs, but there are plenty of other ways to learn store names?) and in another instance the character asked another character to do a google search for them, claiming they couldnât do it themself. there are just a lot of instances of them obviously over exaggerating how difficult some mundane tasks would be for a person who is blind, in a way that comes off as belittling
the thing that really got to me though is the fact that - despite writing a character who uses a screen reader - this person clearly as no idea how screen readers function or what they do. ic, their character (character a) fussed at another character (character b) for having a slightly erratic typing style. character b does make a lot of typos, but their messages are by no means unreadable. screen readers can be pretty smart and often know how to sound things out. but character a was making a stink about character b saying things like âokiâ claiming it was unreadable. any actual, decent screen reader wouldnât have a problem with that. my screen reader doesnât have a problem with it, i can interact with character b fine and i always have. i was literally sitting there listening to them complain about messages being unreadable by a screen reader and using a screen reader to understand those âunreadableâ messages
itâs so, so obvious that this person has but no work or effort at all into understanding the disability they are trying to write here. itâs extremely uncomfortable. i donât think itâs done out of malice, but it is lazy and, iâll say it, reeks of ableism. on one hand i feel bad for trying to dictate how people write their characters, but on the other i feel justified in pointing it out, as someone who is blind. but also this is a casual rp server for fun so itâs⌠maybe not a big deal? wibta if i asked them to maybe do some research and fix their writing accordingly?
What are these acronyms?
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AITA for not helping out as much as I am expected to?
I (29nb) live with my mom (50sf) and I get a metric ton of shit from people about it. I lot of âcreepy person living in their momâs basementâ comments. What no one knows, or seems to care about, is that weâre both disabled and extremely poor, and we are each otherâs only support system. We have no family. We have no medical support teams or cleaners or anyone who can come help us out when we need it. What this means is, I do stuff on her bad days, and she does stuff on my bad days. When weâre both bad, stuff just doesnât get done. We are both fully aware that this system is isolating and sucks, but we literally have no other options.
When I try to explain this to people, sometimes they change their view from me being a creepy leech, and sometimes not. The problem is, they always assume I am the kid taking care of their sick mom and start to pile on all these expectations of me. They always ignore the part where Iâm disabled and chronically ill as well. They always ignore when I say that there are certain things I just canât do, canât do frequently, or can do but at a very limited capacity. So, no matter how they look at it, I turn into this giant leech in their eyes. This happens every single time. They donât see my disabilities, they donât believe me when I say there are things I canât do, and they start to treat me like shit because in their eyes Iâm the lazy kid not doing enough for their mom. And Iâm starting to wonder if maybe theyâre right. Not all of my problems are health and physical stuff, so a lot of my mental health days are wasted time I could be doing stuff that needs to be done. Iâm also younger, so I should be doing more for her than her for me.
Some people are really angry with me for not doing more, and I canât help but wonder if I really am being lazy. Especially when I think I can probably push through stuff more than my mom can.
AITA?
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WIBTA if i told my friend to, essentially, count their blessings?
sorry for possibly bad english
CONTEXT: me (19 they/them) and my online friend (18 they/them). years ago we bonded over not having friends IRL. they were being bullied and i have some mental issues that make social things difficult (social anxiety, low social battery, tendency to isolate)
then things changed. i got therapy and started talking to some classmates. my friend now has an entire IRL friend group they're very close to.
but this past year was a nightmare for me. i'm not in school anymore and my mental health hit a new low. i can't stay in touch with people, everything is exhausting, i'm back to zero. i'm still in therapy but i'm seriously struggling.
silver lining: talking to people online is a little easier. i don't have online friends aside from this person. but i'm very friendly in videogames (i jump around, spam a little, TBH i'm annoying but it works) and i'm active online and open about my interests, some are crazy popular. basically i have small exchanges with people here and there, very brief and or casual. it looks like nothing but where i'm at RN it means the world to me.
PROBLEM: my friend. every. single. time. they see a mutual commenting on my post, or i tell them i had a nice interaction in a videogame, they say "wow, you're a magnet, everyone always talks to you, nobody ever talks to me, haha, i don't know how you do it since no one even looks at me". seriously, EVERY TIME.
they've been doing this for years. it didn't bother me as much before but things are different now. they have a wonderful IRL friend group, a girlfriend, many online friends they're close to. they literally DO befriend people the same way i do, i don't understand what they're envious of. meanwhile this is all i have and they're fully aware of my situation.
BTW it's okay to feel jealousy and envy, i'm a little envious too, but it's how you act on it that can be rude or insensitive. i keep it to myself because i know my issues aren't their fault. also over the years i reassured them when they acted this way and a few times i introduced them to some of these people i meet. apparently it didn't change anything.
i want to tell them to start thinking about how many friends they have and to stop complaining. kindly. i probably sound irritated because i am. but if i say this i don't want to be mean to them, i'll try to be respectful. i just don't know if i'm in the right to even be annoyed
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AITA for possibly derailing posts about helping other countries?
So I'm on a lot of the social justice free the world sides of social media. My personal focus is on the very recent ethnic cleansing and dissolution of Artsakh and the Armenian refugee crisis. The problem is that no one really talks about it. I see a lot of posts from other people guilting people for not being aware of every single human rights issue in the world which still leave this one out and it's starting to really bother me.
Aside from the guilt trippy "no one is talking about this issue a great many people are actually talking about" posts there are, of course, posts on how to help.
Now, I wouldn't do this on any post about one specific country. I wouldn't go to a post about helping Palestinians with waaaa what about Armenians. But I do go into the comments on posts that are meant to give resources for helping many different communities and mention that people can also donate to organizations like the Armenian Food Bank to help support refugees from Artsakh.
I'm worried I might be TA because the posts are about other places and not the one I'm talking about, but I also think I'm NTA because no one's making posts about it themselves, at least not on Instagram or Tiktok where most people would see them (I have seen a couple posts on tumblr). Again, I don't do it as an "oh well what about" thing, just an additional place people can send support if they have the desire and means to do so and only on posts that are meant to tell people how to help everyone but don't actually cover everyone.
AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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aita for bringing up i got less presents than my friend?
me and my friend live together and we share a pool of internet and real life friends. we tend to all hang out at the same time and talk together with the same frequency, and both our birthdays are well known, with mine being first. most of us are artists and my roommate asks in the group what i'd like drawn for me for my birthday. i give a few responses. come the day and only my roommate made or gave me something. i didn't mind at the time because nobody's obligated to give me a gift, and me giving them all gifts is my own choice. my roommate's birthday rolls around, and there's an outpouring. almost every single person both internet and offline has something to give my roommate. that's great! i was happy for my roommate, so i didn't say anything about it.
now it's several months later. my roommate brings up that one person didn't get to give her a gift, and was apologizing to her over it. my roommate was understanding but made a comment about being sad she got so few gifts. i tried to commiserate in support, mentioning i also didn't get a lot, and how it was good we got to spend time with our friends anyway. she went, "you got more gifts than i did." i corrected her, saying the only one who gave me something was her. she got real quiet and now is refusing to speak to me. i've tried reaching out a couple times but she just gives me angry looks. maybe i shouldn't have brought it up in the first place?
some of our mutual friends are now no longer speaking to me even though i haven't said anything to them at all about not getting anything. i assume my roommate did.
am i the asshole for bringing it up? (also some advice would be appreciated. how do i apologize properly? i miss my friends.)
What are these acronyms?
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AITA for lying to my brother?
My brother (8 M) eats a lot of McDonald's. Like a lot a lot. To where I (16 M) worry for him developing Heart Disease very very early. I've brought this concern up to my grandparents, but they brush me off every single time, they can't ever say "no" to the kid, and its very very frustrating.
Cut to today - my bro comes up to me and says he's gonna try the Grimace Birthday shake, but the kid has semi internet access so he's learned about the memes. He tells me about how the shake has killed people "but a commenter said it was really good" so he wants to try it, and then the idea struck.
So my ass told him that the memes were true ; Grimace exists and he comes after every single person that drinks a beverage from McDonald's. Ronald McDonald on the other hand targets people that eat from McDonalds, they work hand and hand like Bonnie and Clyde. I also told him that I ate from McDonalds once and its why I avoid eating from it; ronald mcdonald showed up at my doorstep ready to kill and I had to hide and survive for 8 hours before the murder clown lost interest. Every single time I eat McDonalds though I relive the dread and I have to fight all over again.
(A half truth because eating McDonalds does send me into a depressive spiral weirdly enough??? Is that normal)
He believed it, poor lil man was terrified, but I calmed him down and reassured him that he didn't eat anything from McDonald's as of late, he was safe. He asked if he could eat burger King instead, which.. not good but its not McDonalds, baby steps. I said yes but "Keep the portion sizes low because you never know if Burger King has a murder clown of their own" because of course that's a normal thing to tell your brother what do you mean thats abnormal
So he went to bed after we played some roblox, and I'm left to ponder it all. I feel like an ass, am I an asshole??? I'm thinking of learning how to cook good stuff so my bro doesn't have to eat constant takeout, but still, is this overkill???
What are these acronyms?
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hey everyone! sorry in advance for how long this is but ive just been stuck worrying i was the asshole in this situation. heres one for the jury.
i (23f) had this friend (20m) that id known since we were both kids. we were so close that we called each other siblings for like, 5 or 6 years of our lives. we didnt always see eye to eye but most disagreements were resolved somewhat easily i thought.
one thing that my friend would do, though, was try to rehabilitate people. im a woman of color, and my friend was a white man. the two of us would meet people, who would become his friends, but would treat me like a rabid dog. id show him proof and talk to these people about it pretty often, but the treatment continued. id tell my friend that i feel unsafe, and i was scared, esp with my paranoia issues.
every single time, though, my friend would say we should stay friends with these people. he believed that if we (he) earned their respect or influenced them through our friendship with them, theyd stop being racist. the only flaw in this, i saw, was that theyd never listen to me in the first place, and he would never give me a foot in the door or speak up to defend me.
this all culminated when my ex and i broke up. he had been acquaintances at best with them, and told me he didnt like them pretty frequently. id triggered myself into a meltdown one night on him, telling him the full uncensored details of what my ex had done to me during our relationship (still in therapy for it! woo!), and hed listened. he said it sounded awful, and that he had no interest in talking to them ever again. it made me feel the safest and most cared for that id felt in a while.
...you can see where this is going. a few months later, i see that hes replied to a comment from a familiar username on one of his posts. i felt guilty for even noticing, and i didnt want to ask him, but i figured it was someone else and i was just paranoid. i sent him a DM just for confirmation that it wasnt my ex.
he spent 5 minutes typing something before just saying 'yes'. i tried to pretend it was cool but it triggered not only a ptsd attack but a huge paranoia episode. i blocked him on impulse everywhere and cut contact. it was so bad i stopped talking to people for a solid 3 months or so other than my boss and therapist.
since then, hes posted some deeply hateful stuff about me, and told our mutual friends embarrassing information which convinced them to stop talking to me too. i lost my entire friend group that id had for about 5 years over this.
ive been thinking about his philosophy lately though, and i guess i can see the logic in it. im wondering if i really was as overly sensitive as he said i was about this stuff, and that i just needed to endure it more to 'fix' these people or change their minds or whatever.
so... AITA???
What are these acronyms?
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Am I An Asshole for Hating How My Sister Says "I Love You"?
My sister and I are very different people. She is outgoing and extroverted and social, I am quiet and introverted and honestly have a ton of trouble with social interactions.
My sister has ADHD, but she does not take any medications for it because of legitimate medical reasons. Because of ADHD and some other actions she does, I highly suspect that she struggles with RSD (Rejection Sensitive Disorder). She has not been diagnosed with that specific symptom, but she also doesn't go to any kind of therapist that COULD diagnose her with it. I just made a note of it in my mind so I can try to understand her actions and be empathetic.
However, there is one action she does that drives me up the wall and it's the way she says "I love you".
She will say "I love you" and I will, of course, respond back "I love you, too". Because I do! She is my sister. She is great and I couldn't ask for a better sister! But then she will follow it up with "You Promise?" And I will say "Yes".
Except, if my tone isn't EXACTLY perfect, it turns into a cycle of "are you sure?" Or"you didn't sound like you meant it" or "why did you say it like that" and the whole thing can last for like 10 minutes. It will turn into a whole analysis of my tone.
And I don't understand tones. I don't think I'm autistic, but tones really stump me. I miss sarcasm a lot, for one. And I'm a pretty monotone person. I feel like all of my tones sound the same? I'm certainly not very emotive. So I have no clue what she is talking about most of the time when she says "it didn't sound like I meant it".
Anyways, the conversation that follows "I love you" always irritates me or makes me feel bad. It irritates me because it is a continuous thing, happens almost EVERY TIME she says "I love you", and she is an incredibly loving person. We have this conversation two or three times a day. But it is exhausting to need to try to convince her that I love her every single time. And it makes me feel bad because it's like she just CAN'T believe that I love her. Like me expressing that I love her just isn't GOOD enough. It doesn't matter all the times I try to say I love her, it's just not good enough for her.
And when I have brought this up to her, she just starts sobbing and saying "I just like to hear you say it" over and over. And by that, I mean she just repeats that specific phrase over and over, she doesn't make any kind of comment on what I am actually trying to express to her. She just shakes her head and cries and says "I just like to hear you say it". Even when I try to calmly explain that it's hurting ME. It feels like she doesn't care how the conversation affects my self-esteem, only how it affects her self-esteem.
And I'm trying to be understanding, but am I the asshole for being irritated and hurt by this behavior? Should I be more understanding of her? Am I being overly judgemental?
What are these acronyms?
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