Cake shops near me now

Fuck you!
I’ve tried reaching out, but it’s been no use.
You won’t answer my messages.
You won’t respond to my comments under any of your YouTube and TikTok videos, even though I know you see them because they always get deleted.
Is it so hard just to acknowledge me, you piece of shit?
They’re my words.
Mine.
Do you get it: not-fucking-yours.
In the beginning I was flattered that you read my stories on the internet, but back then you at least told your viewers that I was the author. I liked hearing that. Norman Crane. I even thought you had a nice voice.
Now I can’t stand it.
It makes me want to throw acid at you—rip your ruined vocal cords out your melting face.
I bet you thought I'd given up once my comments stopped showing up. That you'd gotten away with it. Won.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
I know where you live.
How? you ask.
You may not know me, you self-centred freak, but I know you, and you know a certain girl from California named wiccawench99. "Oh i love your stories soo much." "I listen to you every night before bed." "You make me soo wet."
Uh oh.
That's right, bud.
Wiccawench99's one of my better characters, don't you think? She's sexy and she's persuasive, not that it took much to get information out of you. You volunteered most of it for nudes. AI-haha-generated.
Gulp.
Did you really think some Cali fangirl was gonna fuck you?
All that shit you wrote to me.
Logged it.
All those dick pics.
Saved.
To be shared. In fact, I'm going to hit send right now. As I write this sentence. "Hey, what'd ya think of my cock?"
Coworkers. Friends. Family.
Question: How many email addresses do you think I have?
Hint: Set better passwords.
Then, in a few weeks, maybe I'll pay a visit personally. It's not that far. And do you know my favourite part of the story? You have no idea what I look like. I know exactly how you do.
I could be anywhere.
Anyone.
That's not even the best part.
It's prelude.
I wrote a story once about a Hungarian witch named Szandra. You narrated it (without permission obviously.) Well, Szandra's not a character. She's a real fucking person.
The last dozen stories you stole from me:
I hid a curse in them.
Story by story, sentence by sentence, you pronounced doom not only on yourself but on every single one of your listeners. Complicit fucks. I'll keep the nature of the curse to myself because everybody enjoys a twist ending, right?
Hint: You and your listeners won't enjoy this one.
It's long and it's drawn out and it's excruciatingly goddamn malicious.
Question: Have you started being more aware of your own heartbeat?
Good.
Just one more thing: You have my permission to narrate this story, you thieving cocksucker because I'ma narrate yo life.
Love,
Norman

Fuck you!
I’ve tried reaching out, but it’s been no use.
You won’t answer my messages.
You won’t respond to my comments under any of your YouTube and TikTok videos, even though I know you see them because they always get deleted.
Is it so hard just to acknowledge me, you piece of shit?
They’re my words.
Mine.
Do you get it: not-fucking-yours.
In the beginning I was flattered that you read my stories on the internet, but back then you at least told your viewers that I was the author. I liked hearing that. Norman Crane. I even thought you had a nice voice.
Now I can’t stand it.
It makes me want to throw acid at you—rip your ruined vocal cords out your melting face.
I bet you thought I'd given up once my comments stopped showing up. That you'd gotten away with it. Won.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
I know where you live.
How? you ask.
You may not know me, you self-centred freak, but I know you, and you know a certain girl from California named wiccawench99. "Oh i love your stories soo much." "I listen to you every night before bed." "You make me soo wet."
Uh oh.
That's right, bud.
Wiccawench99's one of my better characters, don't you think? She's sexy and she's persuasive, not that it took much to get information out of you. You volunteered most of it for nudes. AI-haha-generated.
Gulp.
Did you really think some Cali fangirl was gonna fuck you?
All that shit you wrote to me.
Logged it.
All those dick pics.
Saved.
To be shared. In fact, I'm going to hit send right now. As I write this sentence. "Hey, what'd ya think of my cock?"
Coworkers. Friends. Family.
Question: How many email addresses do you think I have?
Hint: Set better passwords.
Then, in a few weeks, maybe I'll pay a visit personally. It's not that far. And do you know my favourite part of the story? You have no idea what I look like. I know exactly how you do.
I could be anywhere.
Anyone.
That's not even the best part.
It's prelude.
I wrote a story once about a Hungarian witch named Szandra. You narrated it (without permission obviously.) Well, Szandra's not a character. She's a real fucking person.
The last dozen stories you stole from me:
I hid a curse in them.
Story by story, sentence by sentence, you pronounced doom not only on yourself but on every single one of your listeners. Complicit fucks. I'll keep the nature of the curse to myself because everybody enjoys a twist ending, right?
Hint: You and your listeners won't enjoy this one.
It's long and it's drawn out and it's excruciatingly goddamn malicious.
Question: Have you started being more aware of your own heartbeat?
Good.
Just one more thing: You have my permission to narrate this story, you thieving cocksucker because I'ma narrate yo life.
Love,
Norman

Recap: I, female, have a history of about two decades of childhood emotional neglect, and emotional, physical, verbal and mental abuse.
When I was a kid and teen, my mother always told me that I'm not good enough to her. She doesn't says that anymore. But it's like I've formed this perception of myself based on her perception of me... Similarly, my father protected all his fears about the world into me and told me how the world is a bad, mean place and the I shouldn't go out. As much of a curious child I used to be, I've grown up to be a shit scared adult. Shit scared to trust anyone, of going out, of men (rape threats from mother and a fuckboy encounter in personal life,) of so much I can't tell.
They told me I'm efficient and smart and 'can do better' but inspite of everything, I would never be good enough. I had clinical depression at age of 10-11 but didn't know it till age of 25. As a kid I just kept to myself in my room... Mostly in bed all day. My parents nagged me that I kept sleeping and laying in bed while everyone else keep working hard to win in life. They said it over and over that I'm lazy and useless, for years. I feel this now that is such a crime to do that shit to a little kid!! They believe in human doing, not human being.
I grew up with the image that I'm the rabbit from the 'rabbit and tortoise story' where slow and steady wins the race and by that logic I'll ALWAYS BE A LOSER NO MATTER WHAT I DO OR TRY, according to them.
Now I'm in late 20s, struggling for my sanity and getting work. I ran away to a different city to find a therapist and things got better after that. About 6 months later, my family contacted me back. But their behaviour was same until recently. Now about 3 years later, I think my mental imbalance sometimes shows now in my behaviour sometimes and that's what has stopped them from talking shit to me. Even I can observe sometimes my behaviour is just weird child-like. But I'm still trying. I take therapy and meds. Everytime I get some clarity in life and plan on doing things in future, 8 on 10 times I postpone it and it doesn't executes, ultimately strengthening that fear that I'll never be good enough and like the lazy sleepy rabbit.
I think I'll work according to my plan but postpone those plans in reality and by the time I realise this everyday, it's time to sleep.
What do I do to become the real me- the way I was at 10 /11? I was really so wise and smart and knew what I wanted to do and did it. I want scared is anyone. I had confidence, self believe, self esteem. I fucking trusted my abilities. Then I just started giving shit about the world around me and gradually increased to giving a lot of shit about everyone and everything around.
I feel my little self is alive somewhere in a remote corner deep within me. I just want to help her come out and live.

So I suddenly decided to be a hero and save lurelin village from the pirates. I fight for 3 hours straight and kept dying (totally not cuz im dogshit). And then it struck me. I attached a construct head and a Canon to a floating platform and started the battle. And ohhh ma gawd that made things so much easier and fun. Plus the suffering of the enemies looked sick. Now i appreciate zonai devices more than ever.

I work remotely as an SDR for a small company. My manager, who also works remotely, seems to have too much free time on his hands. We have two 1-hour long 1:1s every week, on Tuesdays and Fridays. They often go over because he won’t shut up and loves just talking AT me about stuff that’s not even related to work. He also loves saying the same thing over and over again, but phrased differently. Besides these two recurring meetings, he wants to “jump on a quick call” almost on a daily basis because he is too lazy to type a single sentence on Teams to ask me a question. These meetings often turn into 20 minute calls. He also wants to meet before and after for huddles before client calls, teams meetings, etc. It’s endless.
I’m scared to ask him even a simple yes/no question because he goes on a tangent instead of answering it directly. The other day he started talking about something unrelated to work, and after 10 minutes of talking, said “hope that answers your question”. I hadn’t asked him a question.
I’m one of the top performers at my company so it’s not like he wants to monitomicro manage my work. He barely talks about actual work anyway. There are multiple other people reporting to him (who are also remote), but I know they meet with him maybe once every 2 weeks. They are all men and I am a woman if that matters.
He used to call me only randomly instead of scheduling something ahead of time, so I had to send him an email explaining why that interrupts my work. We started having the recurring 1:1s after that, but it’s not any better now as I have to spend hours listening to talk him every week anyway. He doesn’t care when I tell him I have a hard stop, or I’m busy, or I have another meeting, or I have to make cold calls, send emails or do any type of actual work. He always says “it’s ok if you don’t make cold calls today” or “it’s ok if this one time you reschedule your other meeting”. But it’s never just one time.
Talking to him about it (or at least the way I did it) is not really working. Quitting is not an option for another year or so. I have a pretty good relationship with his boss and thought about just going to her, but not sure if it’s a great idea.
Is there a better way I can address this issue without making it awkward between us? I really can’t stand him anymore and dread every time I have to talk to him. He knows he talks too much and jokes about it sometimes, so it’s not like he doesn’t know. Please help.

I moved to a new country. The first city I stayed in I met a guy, he is around 30.
Short backstory: I had a boat to board but I was an idiot and went to the wrong side of the marina and as I was practically running to the other side he called out after me (with some line), I responded and he kept talking as I am walking backwards trying to be efficient and not be rude. He gets my number. So he clearly is a flirt and has no issues meeting women in public. I am also a flirt.
We had a date later that evening where we talked in a cafe/bar for hours, played some fusbal and danced. He walked me to my AirBnB, we kissed throughout the night but did not hook up. We clearly had a good connection.
I left the next morning to the city where I am now and will be living but not necessarily permanently. He will be moving to another city in September for school which is like a 4 drive from where I am, currently he is several hour plane ride away.
We have been flirting over text a lot, it's very light hearted and sexually charged (some tasteful nudes from both of us).
I like him more than just wanting to have sex, which I could just take care of here with someone else if I wanted to (but don't want to because I like him).
I asked him to come visit and he said he wants to but right now he is focused on getting all his visa, school etc sorted out and saving money for his education (we are both foreigners from different countries, we are both ESL as well). I totally get it him not wanting to spend money on a plane ticket. I am old enough to be practical and understand priorities. Earliest he said he could come is in August when he is on his way to move to his school city.
I want to keep the fire going but I am worried that if we don't see each other in person he will lose interest.
Do I spend the money and go visit him (which he said he would like) or do I just wait till August?
My hesitation is that maybe he only wants sex and for that I do not want to either spend money or get further emotionally attached. On the other hand, physical closeness often strengthens emotional bonds.
He asked me yesterday why we did not hook up the first night and this was my response:
"I really had an amazing date with you. It was super fun and honestly, kind of wholesome. Also, when we kissed it made the rest of the world disappear. So, I just kind of wanted to remember a perfect evening and was worried that sex would ruin that.
If we had sex and you just got up and left right after it would have, for me, kind of made the rest of the evening just a means to an end."
So, how do I proceed?

Fuck you!
I’ve tried reaching out, but it’s been no use.
You won’t answer my messages.
You won’t respond to my comments under any of your YouTube and TikTok videos, even though I know you see them because they always get deleted.
Is it so hard just to acknowledge me, you piece of shit?
They’re my words.
Mine.
Do you get it: not-fucking-yours.
In the beginning I was flattered that you read my stories on the internet, but back then you at least told your viewers that I was the author. I liked hearing that. Norman Crane. I even thought you had a nice voice.
Now I can’t stand it.
It makes me want to throw acid at you—rip your ruined vocal cords out your melting face.
I bet you thought I'd given up once my comments stopped showing up. That you'd gotten away with it. Won.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
I know where you live.
How? you ask.
You may not know me, you self-centred freak, but I know you, and you know a certain girl from California named wiccawench99. "Oh i love your stories soo much." "I listen to you every night before bed." "You make me soo wet."
Uh oh.
That's right, bud.
Wiccawench99's one of my better characters, don't you think? She's sexy and she's persuasive, not that it took much to get information out of you. You volunteered most of it for nudes. AI-haha-generated.
Gulp.
Did you really think some Cali fangirl was gonna fuck you?
All that shit you wrote to me.
Logged it.
All those dick pics.
Saved.
To be shared. In fact, I'm going to hit send right now. As I write this sentence. "Hey, what'd ya think of my cock?"
Coworkers. Friends. Family.
Question: How many email addresses do you think I have?
Hint: Set better passwords.
Then, in a few weeks, maybe I'll pay a visit personally. It's not that far. And do you know my favourite part of the story? You have no idea what I look like. I know exactly how you do.
I could be anywhere.
Anyone.
That's not even the best part.
It's prelude.
I wrote a story once about a Hungarian witch named Szandra. You narrated it (without permission obviously.) Well, Szandra's not a character. She's a real fucking person.
The last dozen stories you stole from me:
I hid a curse in them.
Story by story, sentence by sentence, you pronounced doom not only on yourself but on every single one of your listeners. Complicit fucks. I'll keep the nature of the curse to myself because everybody enjoys a twist ending, right?
Hint: You and your listeners won't enjoy this one.
It's long and it's drawn out and it's excruciatingly goddamn malicious.
Question: Have you started being more aware of your own heartbeat?
Good.
Just one more thing: You have my permission to narrate this story, you thieving cocksucker because I'ma narrate yo life.
Love,
Norman

I never went to my high school Prom due to personal circumstances. I wasn't ever asked out to prom either (sob). Over the years, I've had friends tell me Prom was overrated, and it's not a big deal that I didn't go. Still, I honestly feel like I missed out on an important life event. I really wanted that cliched, fairytale experience of someone proposing me with a cheesy sign, going dress shopping, getting dolled up, taking pictures with my date/friends, dancing etc.
Ok, I know I can't ACTUALLY recreate a play-by-play prom experience. But is there something I can do that comes pretty close to it?

TLDR my neighbors used to yell at their kids every now and then, now it is a daily occurrence, and it feels like things might escalate. I know from experience that sometimes calling CPS can make everything worse/abuse more hidden. When is the right time to call CPS?
​
Long version:
I've lived in my current place for a few years now. When I first moved in, my neighbor was loud but didn't really yell at her kids. However, over the years things have gradually gotten much worse. It's at a point now where at least once a day, she is screaming at the top of her lungs at them for various reasons (it's three kids, two are fairly young, maybe around 3-4, and the older one looks like she's maybe 7 or 8. The most common thing she yells at them for is wandering around the front yard, but she puts them in the front yard with their playset and leaves them there, sometimes for hours. Sometimes she watches them, sometimes she doesn't).
I even had one moment where I was at the grocery store and she showed up with all three, screaming at them to the point where you could hear it across the store. No one did anything, myself included.
These past few days, her screaming feels a little different? It feels slightly more unhinged, I don't know if she is on something or what, but I don't want to see things escalate. She has never actually publicly hit them or anything, but we have no idea what happens behind closed doors.
I'm worried that if I call CPS, she will get sneakier with the abuse and nothing will actually happen. In mine and my friends experiences with CPS, nothing really happens unless you have bruises, are being visibly starved, or live in trashed house/drug den. And for my friends who actually were taken by CPS, the odds of landing in a good, genuinely loving foster home aren't fantastic. If I call and they do get taken away, would they just end up seperated and possibly in worse hands?
I also know from my own personal experience, I wouldn't want people to call the police or CPS because I didn't want things to escalate. I knew my parents rage would burn out eventually, and even when I thought my dad was going to kill us all, I still didn't call the cops, still lied to my friends or omitted certain parts of the story so they didn't call. I knew the cops showing up would make my life so much worse.
I just don't know what to do. If I could trust that CPS would actually do something to help these kids (and not just ignore it or push them into another abusive household), I would call no hesitation. But I don't want to call, CPS do nothing, and make those kids lives worse than it already is.
Where is the line? When do you know you absolutely can't wait and have to call CPS? I always keep an ear and eye out for those kids, I want to make sure it doesn't get worse, but we're at that weird stage where I think some people would swear up and down that this isn't abuse, others would reprimand me for not doing anything yet.

This happened years ago but the memory flashed back and I have to get it off my chest.
Once as a teenager, my boyfriend at the time had sex with me while I audibly cried the entire time. When he finished he said he knew it was hurting me but he kept going because otherwise he "wouldn't get to finish"
I went to a forum specifically for teen girls and asked them if I was raped. A few said yes, but most said no because I didn't specifically tell him to stop.
Dont ever, EVER tell people that. Sex that isn't consensual is rape, period. It doesn't matter if one party didn't explicitly tell the other to stop. It doesn't matter if you're in a relationship or if the sex started out consensually and then one person wants to stop. When the other party knows the sex is no longer or was never consensual and keeps going, it is RAPE. I know this as an adult and I wish I could go back and hug 16 or 17 year old me and comfort her now. We need to teach this from an early age.
And not that I even need to explain myself but the reason I didn't say no was because he constantly hounded me for sex and any time I tried to refuse he would guilt trip me and make me feel like I was being a bad girlfriend and so I didn't feel I had a choice because if I didn't let him do it to me then, I would just have to deal with it later. And I was too naive and my self confidence was too low to realize I should have left him in the dust long ago.
I wish I had more people protecting me and I wish I had enough self esteem to protect myself back then. The rape was just one of many, many ways he hurt me over the course of 7 years. All of the gaslighting, the lies, the betrayal, the racism, the accusations and name calling,, the disregard and disrespect for my feelings, my autonomy, my humanity - I have occasional nightmares about him to this day and I'm 34 now.
He eventually committed suicide sometime after we broke up (not because of the break up) and I wish I felt sympathy for him but I don't. The world is better off without him.

This is a silly and long reflection, although I hope people here can relate to it or find some sort of insight!
Chest surgery is tomorrow... I should be nervous but I'm not (probably due to never having gone through a major surgery before). I'm just a bit scared that the change is happening so soon and all at once! I know I won't regret it, but changing anything permanently in my life is a slightly fearful thought 🗿 And if the sun rises from the west and I do regret it, then it'll be my chance to get DDDDDD mega honkers.
Anyways, it's crazy that only 3 years ago I started thinking about my own gender and sexuality. Initially, I believed I was lesbian because I thought all masculinity was toxic (had bad male figures and friends in life). But, as I realized that femininity and masculinity weren't tied to gender, I slowly discovered that I couldn't accept myself as a feminine woman--which was why I always expressed myself as a tomboy. However, I actually loved being feminine as long as I saw myself as a boy; this identity made me infinitely happier than trying to stuff myself into the tomboy identity. I also came to the conclusion that masculinity by itself is not toxic and has its own wonderful qualities.
From all the learning and personal growth, I've come to find my identity for now. I am a bisexual trans man/nonbinary person! That's just my sexuality and gender identity though. I'm much, much more than that. We all are :)
I'm a bit stunned that things have come this far so quick. 4 years ago I never would have thought I would have anything to do with the LGBTQ+ community. I didn't know any terminology or how to be an ally in general. Now I know many queer people in real life and know how to support them!
I'm glad I had a friend who also began questioning and cracking her egg at around the same time. We accidentally encouraged each other just by hanging out haha.
I'm also unironically happy to have been on Reddit 😭😭🙏 I only actually started questioning it all when I made a post on another account and people immediately said I was trans. I refused to believe others knew me more than I did, so I started my own journey and thought I was lesbian... And after that I got a lot of help from many queer subreddits. FOR ONCE I MUST UNIRONICALLY SAY, THANK YOU REDDIT!!
Thank you to this subreddit as well! I didn't think I'd be able to find a place like this. I was afraid it'd be too specific of a space to ask for,, but nope, there are a lot of chill and positive people active here.

Hey folks.
there is a big vietnamese shopping center in berlin germany. A few years ago i got myself a vietnamese pastry after a vietnamese frien recommended it.
it was sweet and i guessed made with rice flour so kinda like mochi but really big, hand sized. it was wrapped in a bananaleaf, went there twice after that encounter got somethings i thought that were like that but it was both times bitter and not what i wanted. Can anyone plese tell me the name?

The grenade launcher with stun grenades has the weapon trait Grenade (besides Concussion). This means, when shooting, no Firepower dice is rolled and instead, an Ammo check has to be made. If failed, the stun grenades cannot be reloaded for the remainder of the battle. Now, I recall that if a weapon has two ammo types and one is out then also the other ammo type can't be used. Does it really mean I can't shoot with Frag grenades either because I run out of Stun grenades? Frag grenades have an Ammo role of 6+ though. To me it looks like that the subjugation pattern grenade launcher is kind of useless because I'll run out of ammo almost always immediately, especially when starting the battle with shooting stun grenades.
Do I get this right? Any house rules needed? Thanks!

I booked my flights a while ago from A to D with two stops B and C. So, A—>B—>C—>D is my route.
Now I find that there is a seasonal flight just starting service from B to D directly.
If I am at the B airport, can I just ask the agent at the gate if they can switch my B—C—D flights to a direct flight to D? I feel that this might do some good for the airline as C is big airport and there could be a standby list from B to C.
I feel this makes sense to me but I do not want to ask odd questions that might embarrass myself.

Some backstory on myself: I am a trauma survivor x2. Won’t go into detail unless asked as the stories are lengthy and somewhat gruesome. I came close to dying at 4yo and then again at 5yo. I was abused physically and verbally by my parents. I have PTSD, MDD, GAD, and some other kind of mental illness(es) that are undiagnosed. I’m 27yo (M), I have no friends anymore as they all either got married or moved away. I have no one to talk to and I feel like no one cares to listen when I do find someone I trust enough to open up to or it just pushes them away. I work and go home and the cycle repeats itself. I’ve lost interest in things that I once loved to do. I’ve been in bed throughout the weekends.
I just feel trapped, I’ve been stuck for quite a while now. I didn’t know what I wanted to do after high school and spent 3 1/2 years at home just existing. It got to the point where I felt like I needed a huge change in my life or else I was not gonna make it to the next morning. I did go back to school in 2017 and for a time it felt like things were going in the right direction. I got a job in medical and although I left for a brief period of time from being overwhelmed with the Pandemic then I returned early 2021.
I’ve seen some therapists that weren’t much help and doctors alike. I was on Sertraline for a year when I was 18 and then stopped because I felt better…I wasn’t better. Been on a roller coaster of thoughts and emotions since then until recently 4 months ago I felt I should get back on medication and have been back on it again. It helps with the anxiety and OCD and depression somewhat but I had to get the dosage raised because the depression was overpowering me.
I’ve always felt like I was a lost cause. I had one therapist give up on me and 2 doctors gave up on me, one of which was recent within the past couple weeks so I’ve been down about that especially because I really trusted this one enough to where I felt open and comfortable enough to start talking to them but it didn’t happen unfortunately.
I’ve been lonely for quite some time. My last relationship was 5 years ago come this November. I have a seriously hard time trusting people as people throughout my life have shown me that no one can be trusted. I’ve wanted someone to prove to me for the longest time I was worth fighting for. I want someone to not give up on me in my tough moments because they truly care and I’ve not found that. I do want what anyone else wants, to be cared for and loved and to be able to reciprocate back to them. I know that I have to be happy with myself first before looking for anyone else but the problem is not that I’m not happy with myself, sure I can be alone as I have been for years at a time but after a while being by yourself really affects you mentally. The lack of human interaction, the lack of empathy, the lack of affection, the lack of understanding and forming meaningful relationships really takes a huge toll on the mind and all I have been feeling lately is emptiness, a void that can not be filled.
Lately my emotions have been tuned way down and it really takes something stimulating for me to feel anything positive. It could be a side effect from the medication or could be a disorder I’m unaware of. I feel like I’m just falling endlessly into the dark abyss and I don’t know where or when the bottom is.
For the first time ever 4 months ago I sank so low I lost the last bit of hope I had which prompted me to get on medication again. I feel like there is nothing left for me here and feel like I’m finished. I don’t know what the next step is or what it looks like.
I’ve been recently thinking maybe I should go back to school again and further my degree but idk if I have it in me to do it again or if it will even change anything as part of me feels like I would just be doing it to fill my time to get my mind focused on something else as a distraction, idk.
Thoughts/Feedback?

(18m, 18f) Basically, one month ago I told my 2-month fwb that I like her, and she said that she likes me back but she's scared of commitment and she needs time to make sure that we're right for each other. She usually only dates after 3 months of knowing the person. I only asked because it was very obvious that she liked me. We agreed to wait and to become an exclusive fwb, instead of just fwb for now. Before I asked her, she was putting so much effort into the relationship. This convo happened a month ago and ever since, she's been putting a lot less effort into our relationship, but we are still in touch. I guess me telling her I like her made her stop putting in effort. We are still in touch but we can't really meet because I'm traveling (3 weeks done, 2 more to go), and we plan on meeting up when we are back. At this point, I don't care about the relationship, I just want to maintain the fwb. Do I open up the topic when I'm back and tell her that we are better off as an exclusive fwb and not a relationship? maybe that way she will start putting more effort again? Idk what to do so I would really appreciate any help. TLDR: Told my fwb I like her, she stopped putting effort. Trying to fix this.

Hi! I’m traveling throughout the UK on my honeymoon this month, but since I’m from the USA I didn’t bring any flower, vape, or edibles with me. I have a medical prescription back home for anxiety & not having anything here is definitely starting to up my anxiety. Is there reciprocity with medical prescriptions or a way for me to get my hands on some green while I’m here? I’ll be in Belfast (now), Edinburgh, Fife, Liverpool, & London.

Hi all, I’m an 80% travel engineer in IT. The nature of my role they asked me to get a credit card for expensing items due to travel. For the first 3 months, we would simply book using whichever agency we liked. This not only gave flexible options to us but the ability to earn bonus points with our card issuer. They hired an HR lady and thought they’d save $$ if they mandated us to us Altour.
Its causing stress to me because now the flights are not available as they used to be, expensing hotels require me to get paper receipts from the desk, and the platform only provides estimates, not actual charges.
And Im only getting 1 times points instead of 5 cause now Im not booking thru my CC provider.
How do I let them know of my thoughts?
The company is a startup and has no 401k. Using our own card benefits was incentivizing us. Now we have to deal with their platform.
The flights cost about the same. Hotels too.

All I see, lying down as I close my eyes, is a void.
A deep, dark, unending void, an abyss stretching endlessly in all directions, I see myself standing there, with a little light falling on me. I can't see my face. As the horror of this sight engulfs me... I scream loudly in that abyss, I turn in all directions, I still hear nothing, not even myself. In terror, I fall down on my knees and pull my own hair, wanting this to stop. I keep screaming but I can't any longer look at that scary abyss again...
I want this to stop, so all of sudden I get up and take a deep breath, stare at the ceiling fan for a few moments, hear the ticks of the clock...
For so long, nobody helped me, they made fun of me, so finally I thought, I'll always help myself, I don't need others. I got so far a few times, but it left a mark on me, I wanted to vanish somewhere far from all these people, somewhere far, I wanted to be alone, all of them were like this...
I was proud of myself, my self-reliance, my little success, but soon it became my burden, it became a sinister voice, it belittled and insulted me. I was never enough, the comparison. Soon, I started chasing extremes, but for all of that sweat, I have nothing to show for, nothing to write home about. Cuz, always something would happen, and I would fall short of my goal, it was like I was cursed. I'm always so far behind everyone, but perhaps the startline of this race was never the same to begin with, and I have no choice but to run this deadly race, time is not on my side...
I keep running to that beach, beholding for a moment what a beautiful sight it is everytime, the sea, the sun and the clouds and the tune of that cold breeze. But I get the feeling that today I'll see her, hear her voice, so today again I search the the horizon desperately for the sight of my angel, my ray of hope, kindness, grace and caring. It never arrives, day after day, it's the same...
One of those days I was sitting staring at the horizon, and a tear finally dropped from my eye, I felt ashamed, "how could a man cry?" I looked at the sky in anger, as if there's someone. I have lost count of the days now, I get up with a hopeless face and turn back towards the Island. I keep looking back as I walk back, hoping for some miracle, but now I have started to look back less frequently...
Sometime back I had found a way to keep myself sane, keep my mind in check, it's interesting effects would last a day or two, but then even that was snatched from me by some twisted play of fate. I become even further of a recluse, struggling to even walk but with dreams of flying. I could never really recover, believe me I tried my very best, till the end. But the light at the end of the tunnel, never came for me...
Somedays, I recall the times, when perhaps it all perhaps truly started, when those who were supposed to me my world, actually made my world hell. Home became a jail and school an escape. Family, a source of pain and school bullies friends...
Now my life seems to be running in loops, loops of suffering, loss and frustration. It's spiralling down towards.., everything seems to be falling apart. I've helped others quite well wherever they needed it, surprising myself and even them that I could be this useful. I have been kind. but it's all a waste, cause I have truly failed to help the one who perhaps mattered the most. The one I never understood...
And yet, I go on, many times my mind is not really there, yet I sweat, yet I wear that smile, it's fatiguing though, I wonder when will I break, I'm afraid of losing, so much is at stake, I'm alone in this fight, my pride for my self-reliance is all I have, but it's not looking good...
and I wonder when will I break...

I live in an apartment and I've considered getting two rats for around 12 months now. I personally have an awful sense of smell so it genuinely wouldn't bother me but my parents and family visit often. I would only let them roam in the living room with me whenever I'm in there (quite often as I work from home) and I understand the cage will need regular maintenance. My couch is cloth and the room is carpeted. What are other people's experience? Thanks in advance.