Naomi soraya fuck me daddy video leaked


2023.06.08 20:26 ConditionOk6869 Whitney

Whitney just posted a video of the other snark page, showing her weight. Since they wanna call people fat😂
But it’s kind of funny the girls say “idgaf about what people have to say about me” but then post videos giving a fuck. Maybe this will get them to stop body shaming so much. Probably not though because they like to be relevant and find any and everything to talk about.
submitted by ConditionOk6869 to christenwhitmans [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 20:20 Positive-Economist I Fixed My Kid(s)

Three weeks ago I decided to quit my job and completely overhaul my family life. You may have seen my post about my husband being a giant douche canoe right after that, but this NOT ABOUT THAT.
My son (4) has refused to eat any meals without watching videos on a phone at the table since basically forever. My daughter (2) was starting to get sucked in as well. My son also has huuuuuge meltdowns that can go for literally an hour or more over some wild shit (not going to Starbucks to get a cake pop, having to leave the library, sister touched his water bottle, etc).
Well, no more!! I cut out all sugar and processed foods, completely eliminated screens, and created a ton of structure around mealtimes. These little goblins have eaten liver, avocado, a wide variety of nuts and seeds they previously rejected, and more! We sit at the table together for all meals and talk. If you don't like the meal you don't have to eat it, but you won't get fed again until the next meal.
We are outside being active and playing in the forest/mud/garden for at least 4 hours each day (easy right now in the summer, not sure how to maintain this in the winter).
The kids are eating better, sleeping better, controlling their emotions more effectively, getting along and sharing more. My son talks to me more, and tells me his wins, his anxieties, etc. I am fucking elated, I am crushing this, I am the best mom ever! My family is so lucky to have me.
submitted by Positive-Economist to breakingmom [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 20:16 Puzzled_Market_2978 AITA for calling out my siblings?

2 years ago I noticed a shift in the atmosphere between me and my siblings. They would have family call meetings without me, organize trips during a time I already told them I was going on a vacation with my wife and kids, they ignore me a lot in our fb chat group.
I had a vacation set for me and my little family in July. A week after I told my siblings about it, they decided to have a whole family trip. They hassled me about it and how I should cancel and I kept telling them I was already set for a vacation. After talking with my wife, we cancelled out trip. Me and my 6 other siblings are scattered throughout the states. So, of course if I have a chance to get together with them all and my parents, I’m gonna go. After I told them I cancelled my trip, they said they don’t have anything set in stone.
January rolls by and I tell them, hey let’s get this planned so we can all make sure we’re set to go. To which my sister replies, “well if you wanna go on a trip, plan it for us…” fine. However every option I give them, there’s always an excuse as to why they won’t go there. It is now June, clearly, and there’s no plans. Nothing. I’ve been building up this frustration since I cancelled my family trip!
So, we send memes and funny videos to the group chat. But in the past year or so, all my siblings will laugh at each others stuff they send, except mine. No reactions, but clearly it shows they seen it. I thought, okay maybe what I sent just isn’t funny. However, in the last couple of months 5 times someone resent what I sent, not even long before, and everyone reacts to it and laughs and starts talking in the chat. I blew up. I needed an answer. So I told them why do they treat me like shit? Why aren’t there any plans? No apologies for making cancel my trip, for nothing? To be laughed at? I don’t fucking get it? I don’t know what I did besides fucking exist.
AITA for telling them they’re all pieces of shit?
submitted by Puzzled_Market_2978 to AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 20:08 4yelhsa From a Traumatic Teaching Experience to Engineering

Warning, this is a pretty long read. TL;DR: I spent 18 months working at the worst schools with the worst students experiencing terrible working conditions most people only hear about on T.V. before deciding to transition out of teaching and into engineering.

I graduated in December 2016 with a degree in Physics concentrating in secondary education. My degree program was essentially a double major, they removed the requirements for a couple of courses from physics major and added in an entire course load of education courses. I graduated with more than 160 credit hours and still I was terribly under prepared for handling a classroom on my own.

My practicum assignment was at a "good school". The teacher I worked under my last semester had nearly flawless classroom control; mostly due to the student population generally being well behaved, but I didn't understand that at the time. The classroom management during my teaching periods was also pretty good. She taught me her methods for classroom management and I thought I had it down. Plus when I left she sent me away with a large binder of her lessons, so I didn't really need worry about lesson planning. I thought I was ready. I was incredibly thankful to her and confident when I accepted my mid-year posting at a Title IX school.

And what a mistake that was. That school and that district was insane. I accepted a posting to teach Physics to 11 and 12th graders and physical science to the 9th and 10th graders. This school ran on a block schedule so I had 8 periods of approximately 30 students that where I saw half of my students every other day with 2 hour long classes. When I arrived I found that my senior students had been with a sub the entire first semester learning physical science, that their math teacher did not exist, and that their ability to handle the rigor of physics was at absolute 0. Almost immediately after I began all of my senior students were failing. Big problem.

I was quickly pulled into a meeting with the principal and leadership where I was essentially told that if these students did not pass my class I would need to look for other employment come next year. Crank up the stress. Administration did not care that these kids did not deserve to pass physics due to their lacking foundations in math. I still don't understand how they expect students to pass physics which is based on algebra II/trig/geometry when these kids are barely studying algebra 1 under a constant string of revolving incompetent substitutes. But I was scared, so I essentially removed all maths from my class and just taught conceptual things. Basically instead of I throw the ball do the math to determine it's trajectory based on these initial numbers, the tasks became I throw the ball explain draw it's flight path and explain why it looks like that. It felt like I was doing these kids a huge disservice, but at the end of the year most of my students had passed physics and were onto the next course.

Aside from the curriculum requirements, the classroom management that entire year was a crap shoot. I found it impossible to manage these students who could not understand the concepts and did not want to learn them. I had boys flashing me their genitals, there were fights, there were students tossing things everywhere, they just could not shut up for even a moment, they stood on tables, they took my things, they stood in my space, and it was impossible to get anything done. I even had one student try to bribe me with her car and "sexual favors" for a passing grade on the final (holy fuck that was terrible).

Notably I remember that sometime during my 3rd or 4th month there, a student I'd never seen before was escorted into my classroom by police in handcuffs. They sat him down without a word, uncuffed him, and pulled me into the hallway where I was informed that this kid was on some type of reformation program. That he'd be attending my class from that day forward and that if he misbehaved to call them (the police!?) because he was "active" and "serious". lol wtf? That student unsurprisingly was fighting in my classroom almost immediately.

And those were just problems in my classroom, in that school during my first (and only) semester there were numerous fights in the halls between students, and even some between students and their teachers, students were caught having sex during school hours, there was a sex scandal between a teacher and her student and then she disappeared shortly after. There was a gun incident at a basketball game. After that they started making teachers come to school an hour earlier so that we could search every student as they came onto campus. I pulled plenty of weapons off kids during this time. And they made a locked door policy so that if students were late and missed the morning check they'd have to come through the front office to get it done by the staff there. It was dreadfully ineffective. I watched students jump the fences and be let in by others daily.

Around this time we got word that were was a shooting at our feeder school (a middle school that sends their kids to our high school). A student was murdered right outside of campus (literally in front of the neighboring building).

I worked at that school for only a single semester, and that wasn't by choice. After scaring me about the security of my job I worked really hard to keep it. I kept up with the crazy shenanigans happening on and around our campus, more than 90% of my students passed my class (even tho in my opinion they did not deserve to) and I spent many late nights rewriting my lesson plans and grading the work of my 240 students. I arrived at school at 6am I didn't get to leave until 4pm and I spent all night until 12 or 1am preparing for the next day on a $32k per year salary. And none of it mattered. After doing everything they asked of me that semester, they pink slipped me anyway. Asking around, I found out that a large majority of the first year teachers receive pink slips regardless of their performance and as a big fuck you I guess. They expected me to apply for my job a second time where I would definitely get it again and start off the year with a reset tenure timeline.

So I decided "fuck that" and moved home onto my mom's couch in California after summer school ended. Remember that school where the murder happened? I taught summer school for high school and middle school students there. And unexpectedly it was the best time I ever had teaching. I taught 3 periods of high school students (chemistry cuz whatever I guess the administration didn't care or something) and I taught 1 period of 7th grade earth science. In summer school classes were about 45 minutes each and the max class size I had was 20 kids per period. I only taught 2 kids at the middle school level.

Don't get me wrong, the conditions were still terrible. There were actively constructing within the school building that summer. The AC was turned off. The available classrooms not under renovation were incredibly tiny such that even though I didn't have more than 20 kids, they all had to practically sit on top of each other with less than 2 feet between them at any time. Every morning I had to seat kids in a certain order just to make sure everyone could actually reach their seats they were so close together. If a student came late there was always this huge shuffle where like 10 kids had to move around to make space so the late person could reach their desk. My desk was shoved into a tiny tiny little space as well and it was a tiny little desk so small that they should've just given me another kids desk and taken the one I had away. I would've preferred the extra space. Chemistry was one of the courses I didn't have to take in college and I was super not qualified to teach it to high school students. (Really wtf were they thinking? Lol I'm sure there were a ton of kids who needed remedial physics). But it didn't really matter that I was under educated in chemistry, since my teaching hours ended at noon and I had so few papers to grade, I had plenty of time to learn the curriculum and develop a lesson plan for the next day with assignments after grading papers. That summer I could easily get into bed before 8pm. It was amazing honestly.

Because I had so few students compared to the regular term, I was able to interact with each of them. Instead of being a number or a statistic in my grade book each student that summer was a real person I knew. I knew what they liked and didn't like, I spent time learning their hobbies and what they wanted to do. For kids who wanted to pursue STEM I had time to give them more attention/ feed their passion and for students who wanted to do something else I had time to get to know them as a person and understand what made them passionate about wrestling, or hair styling, or being a mechanic or whatever it was. It felt like a vacation even tho I was still working more than 8 hours a day.

A vacation I really needed because at the beginning of the new school year I moved back home to my mom's house and began teaching at my old high school which I knew was going to be rough based on my own experience as a student. I was hired as a "long term substitute" which I understand to be a way to circumvent my lack of credentials in the state of California. It allowed me to essentially operate as the teacher without having a license to teach. I (ironically) taught mathematics (algebra I and geometry). My teaching conditions were much better than my old school in some ways and much worse in others.

At my first school the kids were unruly but there wasn't anything that was specifically targeted towards me. They would mostly act out towards each other and leave me out of it and my new school it was the opposite. The kids were incredibly close with each other, so I still had problems with talking and general misbehavior, but when they acted out it was much more likely to be directed towards me specifically. I received a ton of threats of violence towards me personally that year. "I'll beat your ass Ms. 4Yelhsa" or "My mom/sistecousin/etc will beat your ass Ms. 4yelhsa" and there were plenty of comments on my appearance, voice, level of income, etc. Instead of bullying each other the kids essentially bullied me and there wasn't much I could do about it.

This school used a method of conflict resolution called "Restorative Justice". This essentially meant that regular forms of punishment such as in school suspensions, or detentions, etc were reserved to especially bad behavior. When a kid threatened to hit me they would be removed from my class for a few days but for the comments it was expected that I would handle that on my own through these "restorative sessions". Basically if a student acted out in my classroom, I was supposed to schedule what amounts to a counseling meeting with them where we would both discuss what happened and come to some sort of accord. I would ask that student why they felt like acting out, I was supposed to inquire to them about how my methods of teaching or classroom management caused them to act out, then I was supposed to explain to them why acting out like that was wrong and get them to agree to a deal to stop acting out if I fixed the things they brought up during our discussion. A conversation would basically go.
Student: Ms. Yelhsa I talked over you because so and so was helping me with x.
Me: Ok well why don't you raise your hand and I can help you with that and that way anyone who has the same question can also get my help
Student: No. I didn't want to do that because I didn't want to talk in front of everyone
Me: Ok why don't you just hold it until after the lesson is done then?
Student: But then I'll forget.
Me: Well you can't talk while I'm talking because it disrupts the class and distracts me from teaching everyone
Student: It's not even that big of a deal. I was just talking with them real quick.
It never worked as kids just talked in circles and were always unwilling to compromise (obviously because they're kids). It was nonsense, it didn't work, and it made it impossible for me to remove distractions from my classroom. It also took time away from other students because I would need to spend minutes having 1 on 1 debates essentially with children about how they should be behaving in my class and trying to bribe them into good behavior. I'll give you guys an extra 5 minutes of free time if we can be quiet during the next 20 minutes kind of energy.

Fights at the second school didn't happen on campus as much as at my first school, but the violence off campus was immense. I feel like several children from this school died every month. We held memorials for them during lunch and spoke about them during rallies. Over the intercom they'd make announcements about it. I'd often come across groups of students weeping during passing periods or lunch.

There was one time where a student was absent from my class for over a month, let's call him Brian. As like what I always did I marked his assignments as 0's, I mentioned it to leadership, I sent home some nominal communication about his attendance/grades to the guardian on file, etc. I followed the procedure. Then one day he was just back randomly and I let him have it. I gave him this huge lecture about how he needs to be concerned for his future, that school is important, that a good education could get him out of this neighborhood with these gangs and drugs, etc. And he stood there and took it then after I was done he very calmly told me that he'd been shot and that he nearly died and that's why he was gone all that time. And I really didn't believe him (even tho I should have considering the frequent deaths of our students to gun violence). I told him he shouldn't tell jokes like that and then he showed me his wound.

Imagining myself marking his assignments as 0's not really giving to much thought on it, emailing his parents about his attendance, going about like normal. What if he had really died? And I marked his grades as 0's? He went from a C to a solidly failing my class between the shooting and his death? Then when they put him in the dirt , he's got an F in Ms. 4yelhsa's class because Ms. 4yelhsa was following the procedure. That thought really fucked me up for while.

Surprisingly, the only student I've personally taught in my class / knew on a personal level that was murdered was at that the "good school" where I had my practicum. His name was Jason. It happened after I had left, but I knew Jason. I knew what he wanted to be when he grew up. I knew he was upset with the lack of attention he was getting at home. I knew him. When he was gunned down at a fast food restaurant less than a mile from campus on a school day over a drug deal gone intentionally wrong. My mentor from the practicum personally reached out to me about it. When Jason died it was a big event at that "good school". It was unordinary, the school mobilized a lot of capital to take care of its students in the aftermath, hiring special grief counselors. I imagine it was spoken about for many months in the hallways, that they held many special events for the remaining students, and it's still probably brought up occasionally amongst the staff even though that cohort of kids is long gone.

But Brian. If Brian died, I knew it'd be just a little blip on the radar and then it's over and gone forever. They'll make a little announcement, they'll say his name next to the others during the next rally and then it's business as usual. The different experience between a child that attends a "good school" and grows up in a "good neighborhood" and the child who attends these Title IX schools in these deadly neighborhoods is just so incredibly different it's wild.

After that incident with Brian, there were three other major events that I experienced. One was a threat of a possible active school shooter. I really don't know what happened, there was a lot of confusion. Just a normal day, then an alarm, I remember thinking how I didn't remember there being a drill planned for that day. Then an announcement, then a lot of panic. Then I remember ushering kids from the hallway into my room, then locking the door, then shushing my kids (thankfully they were all very quiet for once), then turning the lights off, then encouraging the students to hide along the wall by the door, then taping paper over the doors window, then sitting in silence for a long while with crying and scared kids, and then it was over. I still honestly have no real certain information of what happened. From the grapevine I gathered that there was a man on campus who may or may not have been looking for someone and who may or may not have had a gun and who left pretty quickly. The majority of the time I spent locked in that classroom with those kids wondering wtf was going on, the situation was already over and no one knew.

The second event was very similar. I was monitoring lunch when a fight broke out (a pretty rare event surprisingly). When these fights break out there's always a ton of kids who crowd around the fighting students and make it extremely difficult to break it up. Earlier in the school year a teacher broke her wrist trying to break up and fight and we'd been given training to leave it up to the security on campus. So when the fight happened I didn't even try to get involved. I just watched from a little ways away. Then suddenly a student yelled that one of the people fighting had a gun. Instant mayhem. Kids running in every direction. Tripping, falling, jumping over each other, me doing my best to direct traffic. No one listening. The area starts clearing out quickly, but there was never a gun. That kid who yelled it out was just trying to be funny. It wasn't funny, but it was a relief.

Then the third event was the shooting of Stephon Clark. Stephon Clark had attended the school at one point. Random Fact: Stephon Clark and I actually went to that school during the same time period, but I didn't know him. He was one year younger than me. I have a lot of friends who are his friends it wouldn't be strange if I've met him a number of times and just can't remember considering how close our circle of friends were. The community around that high school is not very big it's often that the alumni still have sisters or brothers or cousins or just a little homie from across the way attending after they leave. Also everyone sort of has ties to each other in some way because it's a very insular community. So the shooting of Stephon Clark was a big deal on campus. But it happened very close to the end of the school year, and I ended up never returning to work at that school. I know there were a bunch of protests and walk outs on campus but I wasn't around to see it.

When that year ended, I thought I would be kept on for the next year. Idk what happened but I was never contacted about a contract renewal. I was a long term sub and not a teacher there and I later learned that the lack of contact happened in error but at the time it felt like I had been silently fired. As a sub I did not have an option to convert my 9 month contract to a 12 month pay out plan so that summer I lived off my savings believing that I did not have a job waiting on me at the beginning of the next school year and I had a decision to make. So far teaching had not been what I was expecting at all. I went from making 32k in Alabama to making 30k in California. I was beyond destitute. My quality of life that year was in the dumps. I lived on my mothers couch for the entire 9 months and my mom is low key a hoarder and her faux leather couch was peeling and flaking, so it wasn't really fun. I was making $15/hr and that's not a lot so I thought I'd try looking for something different. And it sucked. I sent a ton of applications in to laboratories with no bites. for 2 months I was unemployed, not eligible for unemployment, and I burned through almost all of my savings. Right after the school year started it was clear that I'd have to go back to school in order to get away from teaching. So I called my old academic advisor and holy hell that saint she accepted me on the spot. I remember she said "Don't worry just come back to school right now".

and I went "right now? The semester has already started and I haven't even applied yet"

and she told me not to worry about that. That she would handle it and she did. Shout out to her she changed my life. I guess this is a perk of going to a small school. She knew me very well because at my college there are less than 30 physics students across all levels at any one time. If the department drops much lower than that it's always at risk of being shut down. She needed a student and I needed a school. It all just came together.

I had to submit an application as a formality and then a week later I drove my crappy car that broke down everywhere from California back to Alabama as a graduate level physics student for the fall 2018 semester. I was homeless for a little bit but an old buddy from college let me sleep on his floor for $300/mo. Shout out to him. The house was trash with roaches and mice but it definitely beat sleeping in my car. I slept in the dining room under a table for about 6 months. I spent my last little money on a 7 dollar air mattress and a pump for it and that thing sprung a leak 3 months later. I was always waking up with my butt on the ground lol. I couldn't pay my rent the second month but during that month, I got an internship at a DoD contracting company starting that summer and my advisor put me in touch with a professor who had grant money for research assistants. I started making $1k per month off that. Plus I got a job as a waitress and I was in business. After that school year ended I started my internship summer of 2019. When it was over, during the end of the internship presentations while leadership was in the room, I threw it all out there and just asked for a job. Straight up I literally ended my presentation with "And that's why you should hire me". And those dudes said yea sure. My 10 week summer internship was directly converted into a co-op (with a pay bump. hell yea). A room opened up in the place I was staying at so I got upgraded from sleeping under a table to sleeping in an empty room. I bought another blow up mattress and quit my job as a waitress. ya girl started doing big things. I graduated on time Spring 2020 and my coop with that company was converted into a full time position and just like that I was an engineer.

One of these days, if I can, I'd like to open up my own school. I think that'd be really cool to come back not as a teacher with my boots on the ground but as a founder one day. And hopefully at that time I can help some of these kids from these Title IX schools change their outcomes and provide them with better opportunities.
submitted by 4yelhsa to TeachersInTransition [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 20:05 probably_dead7 About the kissing video

I am sick and tired of seeing all these people trying to bash Damiano, having breakdowns on videos, leaving mean comments, etc. Even though I wouldn't consider myself a fan of Giorgina, I will still write this as fair as possible.
First: The facts
This is a pill that everyone has to swallow, from both sets of fans, and Dami and Gio themselves.
Second: The interpretation There are some people that jumped the gun and claimed that Damiano cheated on Gio. That is proven by the apology to be untrue. I understand that there is an obvious language barrier for a lot of the English-speaking fans, but Damiano stated that he and Gio have "been broken up for a few days". Therefore, Damiano was free to do what he felt like, which leads to another problem I saw that made me sick to the stomach.
Third: The unrealistic expectations Damiano David is human. Point blank. He's in the prime of his life, he's a famous rock star, he sells out shows across Europe, etc, but he is still a person. He's twenty-four, and he is trying to live life. So what if he goes and has a hook-up or has a rebound, it's his life. A lot of people fail to realize that performers, models, athletes, etc are human too. They have flaws and they will make mistakes.
Fourth: Moving Forwards What is in the past is in the past. The breakup happened, and the kiss happened. Move the fuck on. If you are thinking of boycotting Maneskin just because Damiano had the "balls" to exercise his free will and do whatever he wants, as most humans do, fuck you.
submitted by probably_dead7 to Maneskin [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 20:02 gudpierog hell

early twenties, I've dropped out of university twice. ruined my teeth. don't plan for the future, assume suicide. i don't play video games, watch films, read, listen to music. I've been slowly putting on weight, I keep fucking up my sleep schedule, I back out of every commitment I make. The only thing that made me feel valuable was being thin and having an extremely clean diet. I've fucked that up too. I keep trying to get back into things and failing. I hate the people I'm around. Consciousness is painful.
submitted by gudpierog to depression [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 20:02 pastamuncher500 I constantly have problems deciding things, I don't know what to do

When it comes to deciding on things I can almost never do it easily, usually it'll start when I'm trying to decide what to do to relax. Should I watch a movie? Play a video game? Which one? Should I follow a theme (Xbox games?) Something new? Old? Should I just do whatever? What if something will turn out to not be fun? The problem here is that everything has an equal value in my mind so I can't decide between them. I use the list randomizer by a lot, but sometimes that's still not enough. Lots of the time I'll question if the randomizer is random enough and start using the randomizer to randomize how I use it. I just can't decide between anything, even when it's decided for me. This usually spirals into things like What should I use for my to-do list? Should I schedule my time? Do I need to be working on my future more or can I just wait? What if I choose the wrong career for my future and end up with a useless degree? What if I chose the wrong part-time job? Am I unhappy at my job or just lazy? All my coworkers are nice. Should I quit my job? Do I need to be eating better? Should I change my sleep? And this goes on for hours and hours until I'm stuck screaming into my bed, unhappy that this is how the universe made me.
I can't seem to find anything that relates to my situation (mainly the "every option seems equally good")
I will take any advice. Useful subreddits or just literally anything that has even a slight chance to help me here.
This is driving me fucking insane.
submitted by pastamuncher500 to Advice [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 19:59 jake04-20 At my wit's end with crossfire

I bought crossfire two years ago and to this day I'm still not sold on it. I originally bought crossfire because of a few devastating FrSky failsafes that broke equipment, cost me money, and prevented me from flying for weeks while waiting for parts during the nicest weather of the year.
Simply put, as it stands right now, I don't trust it as a radio link. All I ever heard on youtube videos and reddit comments was how crossfire was basically "just buy crossfire and you'll never outfly your video again" which even on my analog days wasn't true in my experience. I have multiple examples of me flying analog video, where yes, I had some breakup but no where near total video loss and I failsafe and have to do the walk of shame like a fucking asshole to go get my quad. This is on 1W power btw.
At first I thought it was a fw issue, but across multiple fw versions, multipile rx, multiple quads, multple mounting strategies, etc. I still get the random fail safe that just ruins my fucking day and gets in my head. Lately I've spent more time eyeing my damn link quality in the OSD than just flying and having fun, and it just sucks the joy right out of it. Yesterday I failsafed maybe 50ft away from me, clear LOS, 1W power, practically a brand new quad build and new rx. I've had moments of greatness with crossfire, I've seen it's full potential and flown it tremendously far away, and with good obstacle penetration, but it's these flukes that have me second guessing my gear and ruins it for me.
Is it a me problem or is it a faulty module or what? I'm thinking of scrapping crossfire altogether but at this point I'm invested multiple quads into it, spare rx, etc. It would suck to have to turn my back, but I'm so damn tired of crashing because of equipment malfunctions...
Should I be locking to 150 or 50 MHz? Should I be locking power? How should my antennas be oriented on my quad? What about on the TX? What is the best fw to be flying on crossfire right now? Is there anything in betaflight I have to do for optimal performance? What about in OpenTX? WTF can I do to fix this so I can go back to having fun? I get that crashing is a part of FPV. I don't mind crashing if it means trying to hone your skills, but crashing into asphalt 50ft away from yourself while going 50 mph, delaminating your arms, ruining a camera lens, fucking up your antenna mount, props, whatever else all because my UPGRADED radio link is failing me is just the stupidest and most frustrating shit in the world.
/end rant
submitted by jake04-20 to Multicopter [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 19:50 XdDani2_0 Always getting killed while playing

So i downloaded the game about 2 months ago. I wanted to try a fof and once i beat it i looked around the whole island multiple times and saw nothing. I started to load the loot onto the ship and after 2 minutes a random sloop came with 2 people who had cosmetics that i saw in videos which talked about the hardest to earn cosmetics while i was solo and got oneshot and sank in less than a fucking minute. How am i supposed to do anything as a casual without getting buttfucked by fucking veterans who have been playing sinse day one? I get that pve servers would be bad for the game but atleast just let me have somesort of skill based matchmaking.
submitted by XdDani2_0 to Seaofthieves [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 19:39 Trash_Tia My friends participated in a “special screening” for a well known game which has been almost ten years in the making. I don’t recognize the people who came back

Three days ago, my housemates were alive.
And I wasn't losing my fucking mind.
Three days ago, I awoke to my housemate, Misty, shaking me.
“Get up!!”
Misty was usually the last to roll out of bed out of all of us, so I figured it was something important. My housemate wouldn’t get out of bed for nothing. She valued her sleep—often comparing her bed to a safe haven. Her place of solitude. I was right there with her, until she startled me out of slumber. I opened my eyes to find her face roughly three inches from mine, her expression lit up with excitement I couldn’t justify this early in the morning.
She smelled of toothpaste breath and her raspberry scented body wash. Her thick black curls framing her face were still damp from what I presumed was a shower, hanging in tangled knots in front of wide, almost unseeing eyes. When I first met her, Misty Kang had been my crush for a while. With a Korean father and a Texan mother, she definitely caught eyes when we hung out. We had a thing in freshman year, which quickly fizzled out once we started living together. Never date your housemates.
I will just say that.
Over the last few years, Misty has become one of my closest friends.
When she knew I was at least conscious, my housemate was grabbing my arm and yanking me out of bed. “Get up!”
I was barely awake, and those were the only words I could fully distinguish.
I shooed her away for a moment and swung my legs out of bed, taking a minute to blink sunlight out of my eyes coming through the blinds. “Sam.” Misty was in front of me again.
I don’t think she understood the concept of being half asleep.
She wouldn’t leave me alone, waving her arms wildly. Her shadow under the soft morning light almost reminded me of one of those inflatable tube guys.
“Huh?” My voice was a low croak, and her smile widened.
“Guess who’s just scored tickets for an actual screening of the first five minutes of gameplay for the most anticipated game of the decade?”
“What?” Her string of words wasn’t making sense in my caffeine deprived mind. It just sounded like gibberish to me, initially.
Like we were in some cheesy commercial, she was the lead, and I was the confused NPC with the WTF expression. But when I went over it in my head, words started to slide together like a jigsaw puzzle. Misty didn’t get excited about video games. Well, she did. Though, my housemate was one to get excited on behalf of someone else. After living with her for a while now, I had concluded she was a follower.
By that, I mean whatever others thought or did or said, she copied it. If her Twitter followers were mad at bad takes, she would drop all of her own opinions on said follower and focus on what other people said. We had Korean barbecue for takeout the other day, and Misty clearly did not like it from the creased look on her face, and her very obviously spitting it politely into a napkin.
Jay, my other housemate, liked it.
And so did I. So, naturally, Misty announced she wanted more.
I had to watch her suffer through two more portions before she excused herself—presumably to throw up. Blinking at my housemate who was clearly excited for Jay, I resisted the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes.
“Slow down. What game? What are you talking about?”
I got out of bed and threw on my robe, half aware of the mess from last night on my desk. Another attempt to finish an essay which just wasn’t happening. The monster energy cans and takeout Chinese wrappers were embarrassing. I got a basic run-through as I headed downstairs with Misty right behind me, practically breathing down my neck. From what I understood, there was a Reddit post.
That was all I got from Misty’s squealing. She leapt down the stairs after me with a spring in her step. The clock above the front door told me it wasn’t even 9am. The smell of bacon, however, was quick to arise me from the dead.
Jay was in the kitchen making breakfast. I noticed his laptop was open on the table, and every so often he’d peer at it with wide, almost disbelieving eyes. Jay and Misty were complete opposites, which made them great people to live with. Jay was a quiet book who was slightly on the pretentious side, routinely quoting something philosophical to piss me off.
He had rich parents on the other side of the world, but the guy himself was fairly humble and had mostly detached himself from said family.
My housemate was usually well put together. In fact, I barely saw him in his pajamas, excluding game nights. That morning, however, he was a disheveled mess, still in yesterday’s clothes.
He offered me a grin. I glimpsed sauce from last night’s dinner still staining his chin. Jay hadn’t brushed his hair or even put on deodorant.
I caught a whiff of BO when he ducked in front of me, his gaze glued to his MacBook. It was rare when Jay ignored basic hygiene, so yeah, I was going to guess this was a pretty huge thing. “I did tell her not to wake you up, y’know.”
His slight aussie accent was always refreshing on a morning. Born in Australia and moving to the states when he was ten years old, Jay still had a slight tinge in his accent. I had seen pictures of his family, and the guy had definitely gotten most of his dad’s genes, thick brown hair, and freckles. While his dad was built like a pro wrestler however, Jay was leaner like his mom.
I shrugged. “I was already awake.”
“Liar.” He didn’t look away from his laptop.
Looking closer, I glimpsed the Reddit homepage.
“So, you have won something.”
Jay didn’t answer. I could tell he was excited by the way he could barely keep still, bustling around the kitchen, barefoot. “Coffee?”
His voice was more of a Misty-like squeak, and I half wondered for a moment if they had switched bodies, or he had at least become one with my other housemate through a chemical explosion. In our kitchen, which was yet to be cleaned after a cooking disaster several nights ago, I wouldn’t be surprised if something was living on the countertop. I nodded, slumping into a chair. “What’s going on? Why is Misty freaking out?” I nodded at his laptop. “She said you’ve won something?”
As if my housemate couldn’t hold it in anymore, he nodded, turning his screen towards me. “You know____, right?”
“Yes.” I sipped my coffee, eyeing a toaster strudel sitting on the countertop. "You mean the game which has been coming out for a decade."
He ignored that. “Well, what if I told you one of the developer’s posted on the official sub this morning?”
“For _____?"
He nodded with a grin, and I wondered it this was one of those rare times when Jay was blindly looking through a red flag to see what he wanted. I had heard of these types of scams, and Reddit was a breeding ground for them.
Gamers were pretty intense. I didn’t realize I was pulling a face until I caught his lips curving into a smile. Jay was usually the skeptical one.
“You don’t believe me.”
I downed my coffee to avoid replying. When I had drained the cup, he was still staring at me with amused eyes.
“You think it’s bullshit.”
I shrugged. “You said it,” I said. “I’m pretty sure that game isn’t even partway through development. Didn’t Twitter leak a still last year? Also, they’ll be bringing out a new console before that game comes out.”
I leaned back in my chair. “It’s more of a pipe dream, at this point.”
“The leaks were fake,” Even he didn’t look sure. “Anyway, that’s not the point. One of the dev’s posted on the official sub this morning. He asked if we were all excited for the new game, asked if we could post some of our favorite NPC dialogue, and he’ll DM winners.”
“Uh-huh.” I nodded at the screen. I had already checked my phone for an internet meltdown concerning this post, but there was nothing. “And where is that post now?”
Jay didn’t look at me. “It was deleted. So it only reached a certain number of people.”
“Oh, it was deleted?” I couldn’t resist a smile. “What a coincidence.”
When I laughed, Jay scowled, showing me his screen—navigating his trackpad to his Reddit DM’s.
To my surprise, there was actually a message from what I guessed was a throw-away account.
While I was skim reading the DM, Misty hurried in, all dressed and ready for the day. I peeked at her outfit from Jay's laptop. Cute.
Extravagant, but cute. My housemate cranked the radio up before bouncing between us, a toaster strudel hanging out of her mouth.
Misty was a living animated character. Ignoring her wide smile, I turned back to the screen. “Congratulation!!” The DM started with capitals.
It took me reading it twice to realize there was a clear spelling mistake. I sent Jay a pointed look, but he was too busy practically vibrating with excitement. If the guy had any more caffeine, he was going to explode. “Since when did winning DM’s start with a typo?”
“I knew you were going to say that.” Jay curled his lip. “They were clearly excited when typing the message.”
“But this is supposedly an official,” I said. “Surely they would make sure it’s professional?”
My housemate didn’t reply, shooting a look at Misty, who rolled her eyes.
“Wow.” I squinted at the screen. “I am so sorry for caring about your safety. You do realize these types of scam’s usually end up with you being sold on the black market, right?”
I shuddered. “I’ve heard horror stories about underground markets specializing in illegal organ harvesting.”
“Or…” Jay’s eyes were glued to the screen. “You could be happy for me?”
I frowned at the rest of the message, which was just a capitalized freak-out about the upcoming release of the game, before inviting Jay (and a friend!) to a five-minute preview of gameplay, as well as a Q&A. There was a location and a time, which was brow-raising. “10 at night.” I said. “Who hosts a gaming convention at 10pm?” I leaned my chin on my fist. “Unless they wanted to lure as many gullible people as possible, and ship them to some organ harvesting factory on the other side of the world.”
Jay scoffed. “That’s dark.”
“You’re actually considering going to a 10pm gaming convention in the middle of nowhere. I’m trying to wake you up.”
Jay nudged me that time. “It’s real. Relax.”
“And.” I pointed to the screen. “No phones? Why would they ask you not to bring your phones?”
“To stop us filming content,” Misty sang. “Duh.”
I groaned, leaning back in my chair. “You’re on his side? This is clearly shady!” I didn’t get mad unless something was seriously pissing me off, and this was one of those times. Jay was a smart guy. There was no way he was falling for this bullshit. I thought he was joking around when he spent the day tracking the location on Google Maps. I went to class like normal and got updates through text. At lunch, Jay agreed with me and said it was in fact shady, and he wasn’t going. By afternoon classes, he was texting me in paragraphs explaining his own skepticism but had found several “friends” on an online forum who were also going and had changed his mind once again. The guy couldn’t make up his mind. He was driving me crazy.
Misty sent me several videos of Jay pacing the kitchen with his MacBook in his hands. She was broadcasting his mental breakdown via Instagram stories. But then she started to send me pictures of herself in different outfits, asking me for my opinion on each one. At that point, I turned my phone off. My housemates had lost their fucking minds. I did my own research though, just to make sure I wasn’t actually going to lose them to a shady cult.
I searched for the game itself, but just as I thought, it was shown as still in development. Every “update” was just fan speculation.
There were YouTube videos and TikTok’s of fake leaks, but nothing was real. It was either AI generated, or badly edited. By the time my classes had ended and I had turned my phone on, I had a barrage of missed calls and texts.
Most of them were from Misty with her outfit changes, and Jay changing his mind again.
This time he was convinced it was all a scam, his texts full of typos and crying emoji's which he never used. Before it hit me that Misty was most likely using his phone to text me.
I was right. When I walked through the door, I was greeted by both of them sitting on the stairs. Misty was scrolling through Jay’s phone, while the boy had his head in his hands. According to Misty’s last text, he was back to being excited to go.
From the look on his face, eyes shadowed with sleep circles, light brown curls slipping from under his hood, I wasn’t sure what Misty meant by “excited”. The guy looked the complete opposite. His mind had been consumed by the game, and the idea of seeing new content.
When I dropped my bag and folded my arms, fixing the two of them with my best disapproving parent look, Misty jumped to her feet. “Sam!” she waved Jay’s phone at me. “Did you get my texts? We’re actually going now!”
The 100+ texts on both messenger and iMessage said otherwise.
I nodded, my gaze on Jay. “Both of you do realize it’s a scam, right?” I softened my tone despite growing progressively more irritated. We were grown adults, not kids. I could understand a group of teenagers falling for it, but two twenty-three-year-olds?
This time, I ducked in front of Jay. “Hey.” I pulled down his hood, and he groaned, burying his head in his knees. “I don’t want to freak you out, so listen to me, okay?”
I exhaled out a breath. “I’m not saying something bad is going to happen to you, because it most likely won’t—and yes, I admit I’m being paranoid.” When he lifted his head, blinking through bedraggled curls, there was a faint smile on his lips. “But.” I said. “You are most likely going to end up disappointed. Which I don’t want, because you won't shut up about it for weeks."
I was only partly joking.
For a moment, I thought my housemate was going to wake up, and nod, laughing at how crazy it was.
Before shook his head and jumped up.
“I’m going to take a shower, alright? I should start getting ready."
I admit, I exploded at him.
We argued while he was in the shower, and I paced up and down the hallway, coming up with multiple reasons why he was definitely going to die, and only two positives if it was in fact real. In the end, I gave up worrying all together. I didn’t say anything when the two of them were hurrying around looking for shoes and missing car keys. I didn’t realize they were gone until the door was clanging shut, and a text was coming through. I didn’t look at it until an hour later, and I had calmed down.
Jay: 1h ago: Stop worrying, lmao. We’re good! I’ll keep my phone just in case. I’ll make sure to avoid the organ harvesting 😉
Another from Misty a few minutes later: “Love you! Chillll, kay? 😭😭 It’s going to be fun! I’ll take pics!”

Followed by: “Oh shit, we can’t. I’ll try to sneak some!"
Attached to the text was a photo of the two of them. Misty with a wide smile and a peace sign, and Jay who looked like he was mid-shout, his eyes on the road.
Those texts were… at least comforting, I guessed. Maybe they were right. I figured I was paranoid, and they in fact would really be okay.
But that didn’t stop the anxious coil in my gut when I tried to force down takeout pizza. I attempted to focus on my essay to distract myself, but I couldn’t stop glancing at my phone, and checking Twitter. There was a hashtag on the DM, which was just “PlayStationGO.” When I searched for it, however, nothing came up.
Sure, it was a private convention and only a select few knew about it, but nothing could escape Twitter.
Somewhere, someone must be talking about it. After scrolling through endless tweets though, I realized I was wrong. There was nothing.
That put a bad taste in my mouth.
10pm came, and I held my breath all the way through a Netflix TV show I was forcing myself to watch, half asleep, slumped at my desk.
I could barely distinguish the plot.
I just had a vague idea of the character names, and some of their motivations.
Midnight passed, and I was struggling to stay awake.
I glanced at my phone.
No messages, just a notification from Spotify reminding me my favorite band was playing nearby.
Still nothing. I fell back to sleep.
This time, I stayed awake for a few minutes glaring at my phone before my eyes grew heavy.
3:16: am.
My phone buzzed with a text from Jay, but I could barely desipher it: "can't feel help my head hurts Canshdhsn727272_6798mi/!! _&go home please. (Sent from: PlayStationGo™️ BETA)."
3:27: am.
3:54: am. I was wide awake, blinking at a notification which had popped up from an unknown number. I was trying to figure out what number it was, when my phone vibrated again and I almost jumped out of my skin.
After a moment of hesitation, I answered it.
I was trying so hard not to think of the possibility of it being the emergency room, or even worse, the cops.
All of my worst nightmares had come true in a single second.
“Hello?” I whispered in a croak.
“Are they in the house with you?” The stranger’s voice came through in a hiss of interference.
His words sent my mediocre dinner lurching back up my throat. “What?” I managed to get out. “Who?”
“Your friends.” He said, and I leapt to unsteady feet, my gut twisting and turning.
“No.” I found myself taking slow strides toward the window, brushing back the curtain and peering out into the night. “Why? Did something happen to them?” I paused.
“How did you get my number?”
“That does not matter.” His voice rattled in my ear as I rushed downstairs, almost stumbling down the bottom two. “I need you to get out of that house. Now. Get as far away as possible.”
I could hear his rapid breaths.
He was driving. I could hear the rumble of the engine. With my phone pressed to my ear, I obeyed his instructions, pulling open the door and stepping out into the cool night, a brisk breeze grazing my bare arms was just enough to stop my thoughts spiraling.
I was barefoot, in nothing but a robe, staggering down the driveway. The night was calm and silent; our neighborhood was asleep, each window drowned in darkness. I couldn’t breathe, my clammy fingers wrapped around my phone, as this stranger broke down over the phone. “Whatever you do,” he gasped out.
“Do not, I repeat DO NOT remove the PlayStationGo—shit!! He hissed out, static rattling the call. The guy seemingly got ahold of himself, and the wheel, and continued. I started to walk—where I was going, I had no idea.
The stranger lit a cigarette. I heard the click of a lighter and his exhalation of breath. “It was a BETA version, but we had to rush it. This was not my idea. My boss is a greedy man. He wanted to release the game last year, which would have meant widespread infection. Luckily, that did not happen. We did manage to delay it, but only by a year.” His words barely made sense to me as I struggled to get a word in, peering in the dark. “It was supposed to be a virtual experience of the game—a whole new angle of gameplay. But testing was difficult. First, on monkey’s, we lost multiple subjects. Tonight was supposed to be a…well, I guess you could call it out first attempt on human subjects,” his laugh was bitter. “I knew the tech wasn’t finished. And I tried. Believe me, I fucking tried. I tried to blow the whistle, but these bastards know where my parents live."
Something squirmed its way down my spine.
“So my friends were lab rats?” I said stiffly. “You used them?”
I fucking knew it.
I knew it was too good to be true.
“Yes and no. Listen to me, the people I work for are hunting them down. Trust me, I don’t want my bosses to find them because a life of experimentation will await them. Torture. Do you hear me? It does not matter if subjects fail. They don’t care. As long as there is at least a light at the end of the tunnel for them, they will see it as a win, and bring the publication date closer. They will not be treated as humans. Your friends signed a contract before trying out the tech, where the small print stated that, under section 3, player engagement, all subjects must agree to offer themselves as participants in later updates. I silently cursed Jay for always skipping the terms and conditions when buying games." The man stopped to breathe.
“I have told you multiple times, and I won’t say it again. Get as far away from that house as possible. I will take care of them. I will make sure of it." The sound of squealing engines, and I stopped power walking, coming to an abrupt stop. The silence of the night around me, compared to the sound of the highway he was on, traffic horns and the wind rushing through the window was an eerie contrast, a disturbance to the heavenly bubble we were trapped in.
“What do you mean ‘take care of them?” I had to swallow a yell. “Hey! What are you talking about?
“I’m sorry.” Was all he replied with. “I’m afraid it is too late. There was once an opportunity to save the mind during the initial level of the demonstration. However, once the PlaystationGo has been fully attached to the base of the subject, we no longer have control of it. Once integrating itself into the cerebral cortex, the PlayStationGo can only be removed by signing out of the player’s account,” his breath was heavy. “On this unfortunate occasion, however, your friends are unable to navigate the system due to a malfunction which scrambled their brains,” He trailed off. “Which has left them stranded in the game."
I let out a breath. “Right.” I said. “That’s.. bad. I mean, it’s a fucked-up piece of technology, but they’re just playing a game, right?”
There was a pause, before the man laughed.
“Young man, I don’t think you understand,” he said. “The PlayStationGo was created to give the player a full virtual experience of our game. The PlayStationGo is not a physical object. Created with nanotechnology, it attaches itself to the subject’s brain and is supposed to create a personal gaming experience for each player. As I said, however, it is not finished. It is yet to be released to the public, and of course, we are expecting certain ethical arguments due to the controversial—”
I pulled the phone away from my ear, shaking my head. I didn’t need to hear his attempts at trying to save his own skin.
“You need to help them,” I whispered. “Do you hear me? Can you do that? Can you help them?!”
“That is what I am trying to tell you,” He said.
“I know you are upset and confused, and believe me, I offer my apologies. But you need to listen to facts. During initial testing, our subjects were conscious enough to know where their home was. We are unsure why this happens, though we have linked it to territory, as well as the main character of the game heavily influencing their actions. I have been tracking them from the testing facility, and they are incredibly close. Please get as far away from there as possible. If you are no longer in the vicinity of the house, I can end this quickly and quietly before we gain attention.”
I wasn’t sure what I was going to say. Maybe start fucking screaming at him, because he was talking about getting “rid” of my friends, after their mistake.
“Do you understand me?” He said, when I couldn’t reply. “Your friends are lost causes!”
Before I could answer, though, headlights were suddenly coming around the corner, and I found myself paralysed to the spot. The car which swerved twice, crashed into several trash cans, before reversing and coming straight towards me, was not Jay’s car. Jay’s car was an old hunk of junk he’d gotten from a scrapyard. Jay’s car had doors which were practically hanging off, and a stereo which exclusively played either static gibberish, or old tapes I had no idea how to use. This car was bright yellow, and definitely had an option to drive itself. When the car came to a stop, inches from careening into me, I lost all control of myself.
I was vaguely aware of my phone slipping from my fingers and hitting the sidewalk. But I was too busy staring at the two shadows in the front of the car. The driver, and the passenger.
And the muffled screaming coming from the trunk.
When the door swung open, a figure stepping out, I did not recognise my housemate.
The stranger told me I wouldn't, but I didn't believe him.
Jay had left the house in casual jeans and a sweater, bearing the game's logo.
Now, I found myself face to face with a man with my housemate's face and features, his smile and eyes-- but something had been severed in his eyes and twisted in his expression. For one, Jay was wearing a suit I knew he couldn't afford, the sleeves torn, collar pulled open, smears of red staining the front.
His pants had cufflinks, and the Rolex on his wrist had definitely been pulled off someone's corpse.
The silver was stained a revealing scarlet. Drinking in his face, he looked like Jay. His curls hung in front of his eyes, freckles speckling his cheeks, but everything else wasn't. It wasn't until I was glimpsing what was moulded into the flesh of his hand, did I remember how to move. But then I was taking all of him in, everything my mind had intentionally skipped, because I didn't want to believe the stranger on the phone. Nanotechnology, the man had said in a hiss.
Fiction, I had thought.
Before I saw the reality of it, a writhing metallic like substance glued to the guy's temple, and slowly, very slowly, inching down his cheek, already forming around the bridge of his ear, a very faint blue light flickering.
Something must have alerted him. His cavernous eyes left mine, and he twisted his head—and I heard the sound of his neck snapping, his head lolling to the left slightly, his eyes flickering. I watched his whole body seem to sway back and forth, ready to fall forwards.
Before the newly formed device on his ear turned red, then green.
It was almost like he was… rebooting. As if coming back to life, Jay lifted his head at an awkward angle, before looking straight through me. The blood vessels in his eyes had popped, rivulets of red beading down his face. He should have been dead, I thought. No. No, he was dead. That… that thing was keeping him alive. “Well, shiiiittt,” he said. I could sense the game dialogue which had taken over him, forming on his mangled tongue.
“I’m a man on a mission.”
In jerking movements, he turned and marched back towards the car, opening the door, and sliding into the front seat.
I remembered how to move, ducking to grab my phone, before something slammed into the back of my head—and I saw stars.
I didn’t remember hitting the floor, only the soft sound of her voice, a seductive murmur repeating NPC dialogue, and her kitten heel sticking into my spine, forcing me onto my face.
Misty. I was expecting her to get it over with. But when she dragged me to my feet, sticking the barrel of a gun into the flesh of my neck—I figured she was still playing the game.
Twisting around to meet her eyes, lifeless and empty, only filled with light from the device which had taken over half of her face, I felt sick to my stomach. This thing wasn’t a games console or a virtual reality headset.
It was an attempt at coercing and programming something you already don’t understand, to do something impossible.
I could see that in the way the things had visibly chewed and eaten through her flesh, devouring her from the inside and out. I could see what was left of the dress she had worn earlier, but something must have gone wrong with her too. Because Misty had thrown on another outfit over the top, a diamond necklace hanging from her neck.
I caught a thin river of red pooling down her right temple, trying to ignore the twitchy way she moved, just like a character. From the way Misty walked, stumbling, I already knew she was gone. My housemate had newly acquired strength, throwing me in the trunk of the car where three other hostages were, and slamming it shut on my attempts to reason with her. She didn’t tie me up or restrain me.
In the dim light I could just make out though passing streetlights, I could see the trunk opened from the inside. Which was too easy.
Still though, Jay was driving recklessly, and every time I tried to throw the damn thing open, I was knocked backwards, rolling into a screaming girl, who was bound by her hands and feet. It took me multiple attempts before I had the trunk open, freezing cold air blasting me in the face. I untied the other hostages, but when I told them to come with me, they just stared blankly at me, and continued begging for their lives—and it only took me glimpsing what was attached to their temples, a familiar writhing metal plate, for me to understand. They too were playing the game. This time, as NPC hostages.
I found myself gingerly touching the trembling metallic flesh of the girl's fingers bound in rope. It had a slimy consistency, and I swore, I felt something bite into me.
No way, I thought.
This thing was sentient, yes. But it wasn't living.
Listen, I wish I could tell you what it was like to jump out of a moving car, but I can’t.
I remember it as lunging out of the trunk, hitting the freezing cold air, before hitting the ground head first, neutron star collisions exploding in the backs of my eyes.
What I do remember is waking up on the side of the road. Hours later. The sky was bright blue, a scorching sun blinding me when I managed to force my eyes open.
The early morning rush hour flew by as normal, and I wondered how ignorant American people had to be to ignore someone knocked out on the side of the road.
It’s not like I was nowhere near civilization. There was a fucking Subway right next to me.
When I had gathered myself, I remembered I had no phone. I couldn’t go home in fear of running into my rogue housemates playing their own fucked up version of _____ in their head. My plan was to try and find my phone, get in contact with the stranger who blew the whistle on my friends being dangerous, and find them. They couldn’t be far., right? And even if they weren’t themselves… someone would be able to save them.
If someone could do this to them, surely they could reverse it.
I felt sick, tired, and I was starving.
So, with some loose cash I’d found in my pocket, I bought a Subway and a Coke.
The woman at the counter smiled widely at me. She leaned forward, with a wink. “Nice cosplay!”
I didn’t understand what she meant until I swore I felt something… move its way up my pant leg. I ignored it, and it happened again, this time it felt like something was… biting.
A bug, maybe? I had been laying on the side of the road for around six hours.
When I went to the bathroom, though, I found myself staring at an all too familiar glint of silver creeping its way across my temple. Like it was sentient, parts of it sider webbed towards my ear while the rest writhed into my hairline.
I pulled up my pant leg again, and there it was, a fungus-like metal substance which had already formed in two solid metal masses on my knees. I remember grazing two fingers across the thing beginning its slow feast of my flesh. I remember trying to pull it off, hissing in pain when I risked ripping off my own skin with it. I remember shaking my head and being in denial, even when the lights dimmed above me, and the bathroom door in front of me became more of a shadow. When I strode back through the Subway store, I began to see slight flickers of light above each person, highlighting something not quite there yet.
I could see it already starting, beginning to take over my thoughts. Cars which sped past were suddenly highlighted, and at the corner of my eye, if I concentrated, the outline of a map was starting to appear. Even now, when the room is almost completely taken over by shadow, and my thoughts are half my own, and half not—when a metallic device is beginning to form over my eyes—I know if I hold on, this thing won’t take me. I have considered killing myself, but that wouldn’t… be right.
How could I kill myself when there is so much left to do?
This developer was right. I don’t even know where I can sign out. There’s what looks like the beginning of some kind of index when I look up, but it’s not… finished. I can still see entangled pieces of code struggling to load what I’m guessing was log out. Whatever this thing is, it’s taking over me. Fast. Like a fungus, like a virus, it will not stop until it’s dragged me into the game, until it's leeched itself onto me.
I can feel it happening right now. It's been slow.
Almost painfully slow.
But maybe that is the point. Maybe part of the game is to feel my own thoughts beginning to unravel in favor of something else entirely.
Time is going by…. Fast.
Five minutes ago… I was trying to get home. But I can’t remember where I live.
I can’t concentrate.
I can’t think straight.
I have a phone—but I don’t know how I got it. Did I steal it?
Every time I move, the slowly emerging map comes to life at the corner of my eye jerks with my movement. There is a car parked nearby.
I know it belongs to the man with a child.
But a confusing blur of light is highlighting it to be something of importance. Reality is crashing in front of me, replaced with contorting shapes and bursts of color I have to blink through.
I keep hearing... sirens.
Jay is messaging me.
On what, I'm not sure.
But I need to find him.
I’m sure one mission won’t hurt, right?
submitted by Trash_Tia to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 19:32 Questions314 The Dream pt 6

Part VI
It was until three nights later when Kay was going stir crazy that I realized Jason had not told her about the dildo.
“God Damn. How am I going to go two weeks without it?” Kay said to no one in particular.
“He didn’t tell you? I was waiting for you to ask about it?” I said.
“Tell me what?”
“He gave me a life size model of his penis to use on you when you need it.”
“What! And you didn’t say anything!” She screamed.
“Sorry I thought I wasn’t supposed to talk about that.”
“You thought! You thought! Your a fucking idiot!” She screamed as she left the room.
She came back in on the phone. “Uh huh. Yeah I told him as much”
“Oh you did?…..yeah ok. How many?……yes I can do it……bye” she hung up. And left the room again. After a minute she called me into the living room.
“Strip.” She said. I quickly took off all my clothes. She threw a pair of panties at me. “From now on these are all you were inside this house.”
“Yes” I said as I put them on.
“God your pathetic. Come over here and bend over the chair”
“What? I’m sorry ok. Can’t we act like it’s somewhat normal around here while she’s gone?”
“Normal? Your standing wearing women’s underwear and you didn’t even fight me on it. Now get over here!”
I walked over and bent over the chair. That’s when I noticed she had gone upstairs to grab one of Jason’s belts he must of left here and I started to worry.
“Please Kay take it eas…..” Whack! “Aaaaah!” I screamed. Whack! Whack! Here come the tears. Whack! “That’s right cry you sissy.” Whack! When did she get so mean? Whack! I was just openly sobbing now begging for it to stop. “I put up with your tiny dick for too long. I am not going back. You understand?” Whack! “You will learn to listen!” Whack! “Oh please stop crying.”
“I’m…..sor…sorry” I tried to get out between tears. “I will listen I promise. Let me show you I can listen”
“I hope so. Met me upstairs with the dildo in ten minutes.”
I entered the bedroom with the blindfold in one hand and the dildo in the other. I sat down on the bed and put the blindfold on. Then I heard the sounds of my wife taking off her clothes. I was instantly hard. It had been so long since I have seen her body. What I wouldn’t give to take a peek. My sore ass stopped me I didn’t want another punishment.
“I see your little hard on.” She said. “You’ll have no need for that”
“I know” I responded sadly. I then took the didlo out and started to guide my way to her pussy.
“Not so fast dear” Kay said. “We need to lube it up a bit.” She grabbed from my hand. “Open up”
“Whaaaa” was I could get out before she shoved it in my mouth.
“There you go” she said as she pumped it in and out. “You’re a natural!”
I don’t know what came over me but I was getting really into it. Trying my best to take as much as I could. Never thought I would be blowing a didlo in front of my wife but here I am getting off on it.
“That should do” she pulled it out. “My god I can’t believe how much you enjoyed that. Sucking cock, wearing panties…. I think we are going to have to give you a l new name. You are no longer the Jay I knew. But first it’s time for you to do your job.” She handed me the lubed up dildo and I guided it into hee soaking wet pussy. I doubt it needed anything to help it go in she was so ready.
I sat on the bed and pumped it in and out of her as she moaned with pleasure. I tired to keep up as she rocked her hips back and forth begging for more. For it faster. For it harder. I could feel her muscles tightening as she was getting close. Until she exploded in an amazing orgasm and collapsed on the bed. “Wow. Thank you” she said. “You can leave now.”
I slowly got up and left the room walked right into the guest room to jerk off but just as I was about to get started she called me back. As I got back to the room I put the blindfold back on.
“I’m dressed you can take that off.” She said. “I forgot to tell you no jerking off.” How did she know? “You have to earn it and honestly right now you are no where near any rewards. Clean up this mess” then she got up and walked out.
Oh shit! I forgot part of my instructions! I was supposed to remind Kay of my size while I used the dildo on her. There was still most of the two weeks left hopefully if I do it the rest of the time it will be ok.
The next night we got set up again me in the blindfold and dildo in hand. “You ready for a real cock.” I said. “Not like what I have”
“What do you have?” She asked as I slid it into her. “Ooooh. Yeeeeaaah”
“I have a small penis” I slid it in and out.
“Feels so good…..what do you have?”
“A tiny cock.”
“That’s it keep going” her hips started to move in line with my pumping.
“I could never make you feel like this. I don’t know how you stayed for so long.” She started moaning louder. “You deserve this.”
“Yes! Yes!” She started screaming
“I am forever indebted to you for allowing me to fuck you at all. My tiny cock is yours to ridicule” I was pumping faster and faster.
“YESSSS!” She said as she cam.
“I’m taking a shower. Clean this up” and she walked out.
——— The rest of the two weeks were intense. I tried my best to resist touching myself but there were a few times when I was alone that I was able to quickly jerk it. For the whole last week though I promised myself I would be good.
It was tough each night I would be blindfolded and then use the dildo on Kay. Sometimes she had me suck it first sometimes she needed it badly so I just went in her. Each orgasm was super intense as I could feel her tightening up just before she cam and collapsed back into bed.
On the last night Kay got on me hands and knees and had get right behind her. I was so close I could feel the sweat on her skin. Each moan rippled through me as I used the dildo on her. She got so into it and just hearing her was too much for me. I felt like I might cum myself. But just then she orgasmed and laid down.
“Wow. You are good with that.” She said. “Too bad you can’t do anything with yours.” As she said that she tapped my rock hard dick through my panties. That was all in needed and I cam with that little touch. Cum started leaking through.
“What the hell!” Kay said. “I told you no. And you cum on my bed that I share with Jason!”
“Sorry so sorry it’s just that I was…it had been so long.”
“Get out”
I quickly get off the bed and try and leave the room. But with the blindfold still on i tripped over something and land on the floor.
“Now you getting it all over the room! Jason is back here tomorrow. You have a lot of cleaning to do”
“Yes. I will take care of it. I’m sorry.” I say as I get up and leave the room
The next day I spent most of it getting their bedroom ready for the night. (Woah even in my thoughts it’s their room now. What am I?) When it’s all done I meet up with Kay downstairs. I start to pick up all around her has she hasn’t been doing any chores for a while now and I notice there is a lot to pick up.
“So I have been talking to Jason.” Kay says “and he agrees you need a new name”
“Really. I mean think I have shown I can behave. Isn’t that enough”
“You haven’t shown us anything yet. You messed up Jason’s instructions while he was gone. You did listen to me about not jerking off. Don’t think I don’t know about how many times you touched that thing of yours.”
“Think before you answer”
“Yes”‘I hung my head. “I did a couple times. But I was good all this week!”
“What was last night then!”
“That shouldn’t count. I didn’t even touch it”
“So it’s my fault!”
“No… “ she was staring at me. Waiting for me to continue. “It was mine. Sorry.”
“You should be. It’s disgusting that you cam on that bed. You should know better”
“Yes. I will do better”
“I hope so. Anyway back to your new name. I talked with Jason and we had a long discussion about the state of relationship we are all in. Do you know it has a name?”
“You do don’t you. I didn’t know I until Jason told me about it. But you know right?”
“Yes. I know. Cuckold."
“And you have know about this for a while right. Even before Jason?”
“How long?”
“I don’t know. But basically for as long as I can remember”
She started nodding. “That’s what he said. That you have always known because you have a such a small penis.”
“I guess that’s true” in that moment I got pretty upset. Even with everything that had been going on we hadn’t talked about the truth of the situation together.
“No need to get upset. This is a good thing. Now we both know what you are and we can grow from it.”
“I didn’t mean to hide it form you.” I started crying. “It’s just that I was so ashamed. And I thought you wouldn’t understand”
“It’s ok. I mean you should be ashamed because I expect you to be honest and your should be embarrassed having that small of equipment.” She motioned for me to come and sit by her. I did and I laid my head on her.
“So do you have a new name for me?”
“Yea we do. And I think it is a perfect fit.”
Just then there was a knock at the door.
“Cuck. Go answer the door.”
I got right up and did as I was told.
submitted by Questions314 to cuck_femdom_tales [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 19:30 skbnsk High uterus, maybe tilted??

Ok so I have read so many tips and watched so many videos, so I'm not really sure if anyone will be able to help me but I might as well try. Trying to get the disc in right is driving me crazy!!! I'm using the salt disc in the regular size. I have a very high uterus. For me it is a bit difficult to even reach my uterus. I have an IUD in and sometimes I can barely even feel the strings. When I got it in my gyno didn't say anything about my uterus being tilted but honestly I feel like there's so much helpful info we're just not told so I wouldn't be surprised if she just kept it to herself. So anyway. I'm trying to tilt downwards as much as I can, I am lubing it, I do kegels while I push it in. Everytime I take it out, all the blood is still all on the outside of the disc. What's odd is the first time I did this and I didn't know it was in wrong it actually didn't leak. Like all day, and then suddenly it all came out. When I pulled it out, all the blood was on the outside so I think the bottom of the disc was just acting like a dam. When it's in all the way and tucked, if I check under the disc and try to feel if it's back enough, I can kind of feel the ututerus and it almost feels like maybe the disc just isn't pushed back far enough? But I can't push it farther. So idk if that indicates my ututerus is tilted but I think I need the pro tips. Does anyone have any advanced techniques? I really really don't want to go back to tampons and my flow is so heavy. Also because I have the IUD the cup scares the crap out of me so I really want this to work!!!
submitted by skbnsk to MenstrualDiscs [link] [comments]

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2023.06.08 19:24 saminhelicopter I had an outburst at the Autistic kid, and I don't know how to feel

I (16M) am autistic and go to a public high school with horrible special ed classes. There are only about 3 autistic kids in those classes, the rest with anxiety and anger issues.
There is specifically one autistic kid (17M) who we'll just call Pat, which is extremely low functioning and extremely innocent (not knowing much about consent and rejection as well). We are in the same PE period.I am new at this school, I joined in the middle of semester 2. So predictably, I'm like the shiny new toy in a kindergarten class.
I am also a cross dresser, having shoulder length hair and wearing feminine clothes, Pat thinks I am a girl. I don’t pass too well as a girl, I dress in a way I'm comfortable. But most people do mistaken me for a girl, so I don't mind. But the bad part is, Pat has a major crush on me, and isn't subtle about it one bit. I remind him every time I see him in the halls "I'm a dude" and he still doesn't get it.
Last week, we had our PE final. We all had our laptops out and the whole class finished after about 30 minutes. The gym teacher let us sit with our friends and watch videos. Pat calls me over along with his girl best friend(14F) which we will call Sofia (who he also has a crush on). His best friend is also autistic and one of the kindest people I've ever met. She was making fun of him as per usual, saying he looks like humpty dumpty and stuff like that. I left my laptop at home, so I borrowed his to look up game scores. He turns to me, "Samantha, Sofia, close your eyes" he says (he calls me Samantha). We close our eyes until he says to open them. we open. It's a photo of cheerleaders in bikinis. I ask him why he's showing us this. He says "I wish you girls would wear that, I'd kiss you" and Sofia was livid. She screamed at him and everyone was staring. He for some reason continued with "I'd ejaculate if you wore that." She grabbed my arm and stormed off, dragging me with her.
The next day, she wanted me to come with her to apologize. I agreed and we walked to his normal sitting area. She apologized and we sat down to have lunch with him. Throughout lunch, he was fantasizing about cheating on his girlfriend with us, then started groping my thighs. I had told him to stop at least 3 times before standing up and pushing him away. Along with that, I yelled so loud the food hall could hear me say "GET THE FUCK OFF ME YOU FUCKING PERV" and "MY GOD HAVEN'T I TOLD YOU IM A FUCKING DUDE" and I, in front of the whole school, took off my bra padding (or fake boobs) then threw them at him saying "HERE'S YOUR PRIZE BITCH!” I didn’t throw them too hard, they’re just silicone.
Soon after i was taken to the office, not too much happened, we had a fairly long conversation on acting out or something, but he didn't know. I just said “Pat was hurting me and Sofia” and started crying about how Sofia was probably traumatized.
The other day, I found out he had done similar things to almost all of the 11th grade girls and was doing it to Sofia for years. I'm glad I was able to help a few girls. I also reported him to the school. but of course, he won a prize the next day for being autistic.
I’ve gone down a mental spiral. I haven’t worn any feminine clothes, makeup or hairstyles, I haven’t really gotten a full night's rest. I’ve just been wearing sweats and a tee shirt, which is one of the outfit styles I’ve been avoiding. My boyfriend has been there as much as possible. He can see the guilt and anxiety right through me.I feel like a really fucked up person for speaking out, but it was just an immediate reaction.I don't remember how to be myself, or be able to get rid of the look on Sofias face. I don't really know what to do and I feel so bad for even yelling in the first place
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2023.06.08 19:21 inderio I feel like I'm losing the conversation and straight up don't know what to say.

Texting this girl and she seems to be in to me but we haven't met yet and there's a few complications to be able to meet anytime soon.
Anyways, she is wonderful but I feel I can't keep the conversation going too long.
She sends me a fee voice notes about herself or a video but I don't send one back because 1. I have a stutter which can also result in a voice crack here and there, and that I fear will turn her off and 2. I don't know what to say to be able to keep it going.
I text, sext (poorly) and send pics (poorly) which are mostly just of the same expression, maybe a little different but I'm not sure what else to do in one to show an interest.
I've asked her about what she likes and I've got a few things but I know fuck all about them and trying to learn about them is giving me a headache. I don't want to sound like an idiot.
I think I've killed her mood twice but due to a situation that was out of my control.
I want to meet up with her so badly but she's almost 2 hours away, neither of us are free and she goes away to Spain in two weeks time for fuck knows how long.
I'm afraid she'll lose interest or maybe she already is losing interest.
I don't know what to do. I want to get to know her better but I also can't start the convo off by asking about her, or can I?
I give her compliments, I'm honest and I always respond when I can and she does too.
Maybe I'm just overthinking this but I'm really nervous.
I need help, please 🙏
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2023.06.08 19:20 WoodBoogerSpork XR Bearing Change - post mortem

Just completed a bearing change on my XR. Wanted to give my 2 cents to others who may be contemplating a bearing change.
Background - I am an IT person. Not super mechanical, but I own my own home and have a basic toolbox. I repair most things in my home that are not super technical. Think - changing garage door springs or putting up a privacy fence. Anything that falls into plumbing, electrical or major appliance change outs I leave to professionals. Just offering this as a kind of litmus test for others.
Where I went wrong - The press. Frankly I have ZERO need for a press outside of changing my one wheel bearings. I wanted to go as cheap as possible to get the job done. This can help you learn from my mistake. You need to ensure that the press working area is big enough to encompass your hub. (This will depend on the board type you have, but you need space.) I tried to get off SUPER cheap and bought a 1 ton press that only had a 5 inch working area. So I was able to get one bearing in, but not the other. Here is what I bought off Amazon. Vevor 3 Ton For those wondering, it is a total POS, BUT it gets the job done and for the least amount of money I could find. Did I mention I have no other use for an arbor press?
I picked up a Bearing Driver Set at Harbor Freight ( Harbor Freight! - When it absolutely positively needs to work ONCE!
Oh you will also need metric allen wrenches. I had SAE, but the inner hub bolts are metric.
The actual change: The good news is I didn't fuck up my board. Just ran my first test ride this morning. Went with ceramic Grizzly bearings. I froze them before pressing them in. I think that definitely helps. Once I had the appropriately sized press, getting the bearings in was actually pretty easy. My biggest headache was getting the plate back onto the stator. The plate wouldn't seat all the way back down and was leaving about an 1/8 inch gap. Drove me nuts. Eventually I just got out the old 8lb sledge and went to town until it fit. (Joking. Don't do that) I did monkey around with it for about 30 minutes before I was finally able to get it seated.
After that the rest of the change was pretty standard stuff. My motor now makes an interesting rubbing noise, but I have searched and found plenty of other boards that folks have posted videos of and mine sounds exactly like theirs, which I have been told is nothing to worry about.
Hoping that helps some of you out there that may be on the fence about changing your bearings yourself. Took me about 6 hours all told. That time was filled with me carefully watching videos and striving not to fuck up my board. In the future this will probably be about 2-3 hours I would guess.
Happy floating.
submitted by WoodBoogerSpork to onewheel [link] [comments]

2023.06.08 19:18 levelZeroWizard questions for bong smoking!

So I've been smoking out of this 8" for some years now and I'm getting to the point where I'm smoking enough to warrant fixing the things I don't like about it. Got a bunch of simple questions for other ents!

  1. I have a large bowl that my spouse and I share together when we smoke, when do I know that it's time to poke around the bowl and get rid of the ashes? I end up smoking it until I feel like I get nothing but when I go to clean it out for new ground there's still brown/green at the bottom
  2. Should I make an effort to dump the water as soon as I'm done smoking or is it okay for it to sit overnight?
  3. Does water temp actually matter? I like cold water as those hits are much nicer but I hear warm water is actually better for getting the "effect"
  4. I typically use iso and salt to clean everything and it works like a charm. Only issue is that I hate getting plastic wrap cause it leaks a little and drips and cause a mess. Iso messes are not fun on the skin and lungs. I found this stuff called kryptonite online and am considering buying some, is it any good?
  5. How often should I clean my bong? My spouse and I smoke every night after work and currently we clean it every friday/saturday
  6. My bowl gets stuck way too often in the inner glass tube completely fucking up the rip and makes me cough all the time. Is this a bong issue or something I'm not doing right? I've put vegetable oil around the connection but it still gets stuck from time to time and I have to reapply it every time I clean it.
  7. Grinders! I have this ceramic SLX grinder that I like, but lately I havent been getting any keef at the bottom even though I've cleaned it SEVERAL times. Is there a specific brand/type of grinder that yall would recommend?
submitted by levelZeroWizard to trees [link] [comments]