Hi everyone.
To Kill a Predator is a work of fan fiction set in the Nature of Predators universe originally created by SpacePaladin15 whose Patreon you should subscribe to.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Depiction does not equal endorsement.
Hope you enjoy it!
[First] [Previous]
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Memory transcription subject: Martin Russo, Human Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: November 30th, 2136
​
“Wait”. The voice is so sudden I don’t even realize it’s my own at first.
Mosun looks up at me, confused. I’m confused too. Thiva’s right in there. I want to storm in, but there’s something wrong, there’s
A recording of a crying baby
I shake my head and step back, motioning for him to follow me.
Another scream echoes through the hall. Mosun swallows, but lets go of the handle.
Think. You’re in charge of a bunch of terrorists all gung-ho to go Helter Skelter on humanity. You’re a sadistic alien psychopath. You mutilate animals. You keep trophies. You don’t give a damn about your sister. You kill humans. Your tools for that are firebombs that go off when they open doors, and recordings of vulnerable things in distress.
But why here? Why set the trap here? Taking her to a second location makes more sense. Why your base, or this close to it? Why are you luring the human here?
It’s not because he’s here too soon. You expected the warpath right away. You know their empathy and protective instincts overrides their rationality. You might not have expected him to gather a posse, but you know the humans are social animals. You had to know it was a possibility.
So why… Here…
Mosun whispers. “Martin, what’s the matter? Why aren’t we going in?”
There’s something I’m missing. Think. Think! You were happy to get the first human kills while you weren’t even in the area. You might’ve placed the traps or had your mooks do it but either way you were fine with being absent when they went off. Why is this time different?
It’s because the humans were gathered in one place, isn’t it? The fire wasn’t about killing us. It was about scattering us and leaving us solitary enough to hunt. Or maybe... Maybe it didn’t satisfy, didn’t scratch that itch. No trophies, no mutilations.
Because you are a predator. An ambush predator. You want to be close to the trap, like a spider. You want to look the human in the eyes as he dies, and take something to remember the kill by.
You’re here, somewhere.
​
I swallow, and look at the door. It slides open, like almost all Venlil doors.
Alright, time to Human.
I take the strap to my rifle, and gingerly unsling it from the weapon. I grab one of my last zip ties and loop it around the handle, and in the buckle of the strap.
Mosun flicks his ear in a Venlil-esque sign for understanding and agreement at once, and moves down the hallway. I follow him.
The strap and zip-tie together are perhaps two meters in length, so with a bit of an annoyed grunt I take off my belt and add that to the makeshift rope. That gives me a little under a meter extra.
I hand the rifle to Mosun, and hold a hand up to him while clutching the rope in the other.
Three. Two. One.
I close my eyes and turn away in one single motion, tugging at the door handle. As soon as the door parts from the frame there’s a blast, sending me and Mosun to the ground. The air stinks of wood-pulp, smoke, and dust.
Jesus Christ!!
My ears are ringing as I get on my unsteady feet and grasp the rifle from Mosun, stumbling my way to the ruined doorway and peering inside.
The room is empty but for shrapnel and debris and a cloud of dust. None of it looks like it was alive.
Oh thank God, the bastards weren’t using live bait.
With the high-pitched ringing slowly subsiding I take a few steps down the hall, before falling to one knee from disorientation.
I don’t hear the Exterminator storm up the stairs. But I see them just fine.
​
The visor’s reflective. The armor’s bulky. The flamethrower’s lit.
With Mosun behind me in the small hallway, there’s nowhere to run. No time to think.
This isn’t aiming at someone’s back, or a sleeping and prone body. I don’t have time to hesitate, so I don’t.
I start shooting from the hip and raise the gun to my shoulder while firing. The weapon jumps in my hand with each pull of the trigger, and from my awkward stance I have quantity stand in for quality. Wood splinters fly from the wall behind the Exterminator, who jerks as some of the shots strike true.
After swaying for a second and losing their grip on their flamethrower, they tumble right down the stairs. The weapon clatters down after them, connected to their fuel tank.
I get to my feet and try to rush over to the stairs. I slam into the wall for my trouble, but get my bearings and raise the rifle.
The Exterminator’s laying prone at the foot of the stairs. They stir weakly and move a paw toward their weapon.
I fire another salvo of rounds. The sound echoes and makes my ears hurt even worse than the blast already did. The Exterminator jerks a couple of times, lets out a shuddering breath, and then goes still.
They’re dead. This is it. I killed someone.
I expect it to hit me like a sledgehammer. I expect to end up doubled over, hurling my guts out. That’s what you always see in the movies.
Instead my response is as anticlimactic as the killing itself: I just hope it was Renak.
​
I feel Mosun’s hand on my back. He speaks with quiet sympathy. “…Are you alright?”
I sigh slowly. “Yeah… Yeah. Predator, remember?”
Some of his usual energy creeps back into his voice. “Oh, I see how it is. You get to say it.”
We head down the stairs while I fiddle with my makeshift rope to restore my belt and rifle sling to their proper places. The sling needs to be tied into a knot to be put to use, as the buckle is beyond saving. “Yeah. I’m sure I’ll break down later, but for now we have a- MOVE!!”
I see a cylinder about half the size of a Pringles can roll into the room, and push Mosun forcibly into the kitchen. To his credit he doesn’t question it, instead lunging past me.
Instead of a pipe bomb blast as I had feared, the grenade starts leaking thick white smoke.
They don’t have CS gas and that thing looked homemade. So probably phosphorous.
I look around the kitchen desperately before finding a salad bowl in the dishes. I immediately turn the faucet to full blast to fill the bowl with water while the hissing grenade spreads its noxious fumes. I can start to smell and taste the acrid, garlic-like stench. My body starts coughing, my eyes watering and lungs itching.
Yeah. Phosphorous. Fuck.
Mosun coughs a few times and tries to cover his mouth with his arm. “What are you d-doing?!”
As soon as there’s enough water in the bowl, I turn around and lunge at the grenade. Using an awkward double-handed dunking motion, I trust centripetal force to make it work as I flip the water-filled bowl and slam it down around the grenade.
There’s a mess of sloshing, and a lot of hissing, but no more gas escapes. Water slowly starts to leak out from the bowl’s edges, but by the time it’s done it’ll have stopped the reaction.
“Mosun, w-wash your… Oh FUCK OFF!!”
Halfway through my statement I see another Exterminator enter the room. They step over their fellow’s body without a glance and raise their flamethrower toward us.
I raise my rifle in turn and begin firing: three shots in rapid succession.
Before I’ve had time to adjust my aim they’ve already disappeared from view down the hallway beside the stairs, long tail visible for a split second before vanishing. I’ve never seen a Venlil move as sinuously and quickly as that.
​
I cough a couple of times and wipe my eyes. It doesn’t help. When Mosun appears with a glass of water however, I can dump it directly onto my face. My stinging eyes cry out with relief.
After just a few seconds of exposure to the gas, I’d love a date with an eyewash station. But it’ll have to wait.
Mosun takes the lead wordlessly, motioning with a paw for me to follow. So I do, stepping over my kill in the process. Unlike the Exterminator, I can’t help but look down at it.
There’s so much less blood than I expected.
As Mosun rounds the corner into the next room, he’s forced into an awkward duck against the doorway as a stun rod swishes through the air. He kicks out at the assailant with a growl, and lunges forward into the other room.
I follow as quickly as I can.
In the living room, the two are already locked in a brawl. Mosun’s shorter than the Exterminator, and has less range.
I make a guess and try to distract them. If the Yotul gives me some distance I can shoot. “Renak!”
The Exterminator freezes for a split second, and Mosun gets a good kick in.
Guess that’s you then, motherfucker.
Renak rolls with the kick and manages to get Mosun’s leg caught in his arm. The stun rod swings down, and Mosun’s forced to block it with his arm. The electricity courses through him and he gasps out, dropping to a knee.
Without a good angle, I drop the rifle and trust my sling to keep it from hitting the ground. Instead I charge in to join the fray.
​
With a wild and poorly planned left hook, I manage to get Renak to take a single step back. Enough for Mosun to rise to unsteady legs. The little badass weaves a few times as he moves into an elegant-looking stance. “Ambush, ambush, ambush. You only know the one trick, huh?”
In response, Renak drops into his own stance. The stun rod’s held in one paw, high near his shoulder. The other paw’s held outward in a warding gesture.
Feeling left out, I get into a boxer’s stance. Though all this excitement’s making the wounds on my right arm ache and act up.
The three of us are still for a moment. “…There’s just you left, Renak. Your terrorist group’s done for.” Technically there’s one other Exterminator left unaccounted for. But I don’t see a reason to tell him that.
He tilts his head toward me for a second. I see myself reflected in the visor.
Mosun’s the first to move, lunging in low. I charge in right after. Renak doesn’t step back, instead swinging the rod down.
Mosun leans back so far he’s almost prone, using his tail and one arm as leverage to kick up at Renak’s arm and stop the descending blow. The movement is beautiful, and wouldn’t look out of place in some sort of Capoeira. By all rights it should break the arm, but the heavy Exterminator armor takes most of the force.
I come in with my own simple straight punch with my left, but I overextend and Renak swats it aside sharply with his own free arm. Instead of relenting, I jab with my right. I catch him on the shoulder and do little damage.
Renak shifts his stance and raises his baton to swing it downward at me. Mosun moves to intercept, but Renak’s leg lashes out and catches Mosun’s knee from the side. The swing that was coming my way turns into a descending thrust at the Yotul, who gets the baton jabbed straight into his torso.
Mosun’s shriek fills the room as he thrashes under the coruscating electrical blow, and I strike Renak with everything I’ve got in a desperate and unrefined haymaker.
I catch the bastard right in the visor and hear a loud sound. It hurts. Renak staggers back with a yelp, dropping the stun rod, and turns to look squarely at me. I’ve cracked his visor, and probably broken a finger or two in the bargain.
I stare for the length of a breath at the cracks in the reflective surface, seeing my own rage reflected in a dozen fractured images.
​
Renak calmly reaches behind him and pulls out his sidearm. He doesn’t even glance aside as he extends his arm and puts two bullets into Mosun. The gunshots echo in the enclosed space.
“NO!!” I hear myself shouting as I fumble for my rifle. Renak turns his arm toward me and fires again. I hear the crack and a whistle as a bullet flies right past my head.
A second bullet whizzes past and strikes the door frame, tumbling past with a ricochet whine. It missed only because I’m falling to one knee.
With my own rifle raised, I return fire. We’re firing at each other from mere feet away. I fire three times. I miss the first shot, but the second hits him in the thigh. The third takes him in the side somewhere.
He’s spun around, but empties the gun in my direction as he staggers into a dash out of the room, toward the basement.
It’s only when I rise to my feet that I realize I’ve been shot too. My left leg burns, and can’t carry my weight. I awkwardly hop over to Mosun and kneel to investigate his wounds.
​
His collarbone’s been shattered by one bullet. Another has caught him on the inside of the shoulder. I don’t know Yotul anatomy, but I’m guessing if it’s caught a lung or an artery he’s in real trouble. “Come on, you can’t leave me alone here; you’re the only one I can talk to.”
He takes a slow breath and doesn’t even bother trying to get up. He simply looks at me and plainly says “Ow.”
I can breathe again. The wound’s leaking, but not spurting. Oh thank God.
“Christ, okay, we gotta get you out of here. I don’t think it’s immediately fatal, but the blood loss is gonna get you if we don’t stop it.”
“Later. Get him, then help.”
I shake my head. “I can’t just-”
He swats at me with his good arm. “Not safe to extract. And still need the girl.”
I look around and end up taking a blanket folded over the couch and handing it to him. “Press this into the wounds, as hard as you can. I’ll be back.”
“Y-You better be. I’ll be upset if you m-make me walk back to the truck on my own.”
I get up and grasp my rifle, and limp my way after Renak.
Unless he’s got another ambush planned in the basement, Thiva is his last chance. And the bastard knows it.
​
I make my way down the basement steps, but it’s slow going. I have to use my injured right arm to brace myself, holding the rifle ahead with the left. My adrenaline’s starting to go down enough that the leg is starting to really hurt. So’s my left hand.
At the foot of the stairs, Renak’s discarded the helmet. The room contains several boxes of explosives, and flamethrowers.
Their weapons stores. Great.
In the middle of the room there’s a chair. Bound to it is Thiva. She’s got cuts and bruises over her body, and her beautiful fur is matted orange all over.
Behind her stands Renak. He’s got a knife to her throat.
I raise the rifle and stare right at Renak. “Let the girl go.”
Thiva gasps out as she sees me. “Martin!” She tries to lean forward, but the blade presses harder into her neck and she shrinks back into the chair.
Renak stares back at me, head-on and with both eyes. When he speaks, his voice is emotionless and without inflection. He sounds bored. “Move a muscle, predator, and Thiva dies.”
I look at my friend. She looks terrified. “Hey Thiva, don’t worry. I’m here. Everything’s gonna be fine. Alright?”
She gives the tiniest nod.
Renak growls. “Look at me, predator.”
My eyes shift back to his again. They’re dull and empty. Just black beads of glass set into his face. It’s like looking at a machine. A complex structure, but no soul animating it.
My leg is trembling, and I feel hot and sticky blood running down it. “You don’t need the girl. You can just let her go, and we can leave, and nobody else needs to die.”
He blinks slowly. “My sister is better off dead than as a predator’s mate. If I can’t save her body from you, I can save her honor.” To emphasize his point, he lets the knife dig further into her throat. I see some orange running down it, and the fur beneath Thiva’s eyes are damp with tears.
My breathing is heavy, and my aim is shaky. “I stormed a terrorist compound to get this far. I’m not leaving without her. You can have her over my dead body.”
​
He stares silently for a moment. “Fair enough.”
He raises his other arm toward me with a smooth and mechanical motion. His sidearm is in it.
I pull the trigger.
The bullet takes him in the head. With his strings cut, he drops in a heap.
​
I drop the rifle and rush forward to undo Thiva’s bindings. As soon as I do, her arms fly around me painfully tightly. I return the hug as best I can.
“Thiva, listen to me. Can you walk?”
She gets up and winces, but nods. “Y-yeah.”
“Okay, good. There’s a Yotul upstairs named Mosun. He needs immediate medical attention. We’ve got a truck waiting, we’re gonna head up and get both of you out there.”
One of her eyes suddenly moves up and stares behind me. I turn in place.
Vansi’s standing in stairway, taking in the scene.
“Thiva… Go. Now. Now!” I rise to my feet and put a hand on her back, walking alongside her for a few steps before she rushes the rest of the way past her mother and up the stairs.
Vansi doesn’t move to stop her. She just stares at the crumpled corpse behind us.
It’s only after I take another step that her eyes snap to me with fury.
And I realize my rifle’s right at her feet.
​
She snatches it up into trembling paws and aims it right at me.
“Vansi, listen, I-”
The weapon goes off.
I fall to my knees. My hands reach my stomach and feel sticky and wet.
She pulls the trigger again, and it clicks dry. She pulls another few times, but it’s empty.
​
I rise to my feet and try to lunge past her. But she simply swings the empty rifle at me. It hits my wounded stomach, and I fall to my side. She swings it down on me several more times, snarling and cursing, until the weapon breaks enough that she simply tosses what’s left aside.
It hurts. Jesus Christ it hurts so fucking bad.
I try to think of a way out of this as she staggers past me toward her son. I try to get to my feet again, but fail. I drag myself to the wall, and use it to pull myself up bit by bit. I limp along the wall, smearing trails of my own blood with my hands as I go.
I’m almost at the stairs when I hear an inarticulate scream and feel agony blooming out from my right side. I look down and see the knife, in Vansi’s paws.
Fuck.
​
I collapse on the ground and try to fend her off with my hands. She stabs me straight through the palm of my right hand, then stabs twice more at my left arm and shoulder. My left arm doesn’t respond to my signals, simply flopping down limply.
With only one chance left, I punch her with my right. Again and again, while she stabs at my torso.
There’s a cold math to blood loss. The more you lose, the weaker you get.
‘So you see, that's how I am going to die.’
Each of my blows does less than the last. My hands and feet feel ice cold, while my chest burns.
‘I'll sneeze in the sunlight, or turn my head a bit too fast when someone wants my attention from my blind spot’
Before long I can’t fight back. I simply lay still and hear my flesh tearing and Vansi screaming in my ears.
‘or show happiness with a smile or a laugh’
I can’t lift a finger or even turn my head as Vansi staggers off of me. My shallow breaths are agony, and I can feel one of my lungs has collapsed.
‘or god forbid I might try to save a life again.’
She returns with something else in her hands. I close my eyes.
‘And then someone like your son will show up and burn me alive for it.’
/// ERROR /// Memory transcription fragmented /// Subject no longer conscious.
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[First] [Previous]

There's been some posts here with X-Men characters, and those posts need to stop.
But it isn't just about those kinds of posts. Some people really do have a fundamental misunderstanding of how literary analysis actually works.
The literary merit of a story has absolutely nothing to do with how powerful the fictional characters in those stories are. And the reverse is true as well, the power scaling analysis of vs. debates should have very little to do with how good the story is.
I'm actually someone who enjoys good vs. debates. The analysis in vs. debates can actually be very profound and intricate when done correctly. Which can be a lot of fun, especially if it shows something new and interesting about characters we all have preconceived notions about (notions that are often very wrong).
But a lot of people here have a tendency to conflate these two concepts.
What's needed to be understood is that a story can be an absolute failure from a storytelling standpoint (for example, RWBY, it's a 1/10 shit show) but it is something that can still have characters who are actually very powerful.
Does this mean that RWBY characters are the strongest in all of fiction? Absolutely not. But does this mean RWBY characters are weaklings who can't win against a pile of sticks? Also absolutely not. There are some impressive feats in RWBY that deserve proper power scaling and critical analysis.
I do understand where people are coming from when they try to put RWBY characters in what's called spite matchups (where you make RWBY lose on purpose out of hate/spite). It's all because of all these RWBY Death Battle episodes, and since DB is owned by RT, people think they shill for RWBY characters winning. This CAN be a legit argument you can make (for certain episodes anyway since Weiss lost her battle, but they do shill for a lot of RT stuff so there's some precedence).
But I think it's kinda throwing the baby out with the bathwater if you just use these few DB episodes and then spite every single one of RWBY power scaling discussions. It is especially toxic if it leaks into arguing the actual merit of this show. Then you're honestly just making a lot of us critics look stupid.
EDIT: side note - I actually enjoy Death Battle. Although there are some stuff I disagree with, but most of the time they have good representations of the characters, though not perfect.

For sale is my beloved TM MP7. Babied every use, reluctantly selling to fund another purchase. Comes with 3 mags, all leak free, one I bought just 2 months ago and has not even been used.
Pickup/delivery in Toronto only. However, I may consider shipping on buyers dime. $660.
Thanks!
​
https://imgur.com/a/fws8d6H

I weaned my baby from EBF 3 weeks ago. I no longer nurse or pump. I thought 3 weeks would be plenty of time for my supply to completely stop. We were only down to 1 short session at night.
3 weeks later and i still leak occasionally. Not a lot by any means, but if im not wearing a bra and i bend over, my shirt gets little wet dots from milk.
Is this normal? I have my yearly obgyn appt next month, and plan to bring it up then if it is still happening.

OK take two. This is very important I say this here since ppl don't know how to read. This is my now sitch. I have a good job making ok money and so does my husband. I will add the OG text becailse I deleted the OG since idk how to edit my posts I'm new to reddit.
Please keep in mind this all happend over a year ago and I want to just get it off my chest because things have DRASTICLY CHANGED. So here it goes.
So this will be a long one and I apologize for that. A year ago my step mom called Cps (child protective services) on me. And now my dad is gaslighting me to try to make me feel guilty and to have me to apologize for her doing it.
Here is a little back story to understand how this got so bad. I (f 27) met my fiance (m28) 5 years ago, we got pregnant 6 months after we met. It was not on purpose, and I admit we weren't careful because I was told at 19 I'd never be able to have kids due to some medical issues.
Now I moved in with my fiance after we had the baby (f), and I was a SAHM I worked Uber and Doordarsh and instacart while I was a SAHM. My fiance let's call him J, worked full time at a box store. We rent from Inlaws and it's a decent place just small. We had to fit two lives in one area and when H was a baby it was easy to keep up. Now she's three and we are teaching her to clean up after herself.
Fast forward to Dec 2021, J had quite his job and we were both driving for DD and Uber eats (this was not permanent since he was looking for a job right after he had quit his job for good reasons)not really making much at all, and my step mom and dad kept telling me that I needed to do better. I already was trying to do better and was secretly looking for a job. I say secretly because then I knew they would say something along the lines of good your finally listening to us. And I did not need that. So in Dec my step mom had a party. We had talked and agreed I'd let them take my daughter until the day of the party. When my dad came to get my daughter she was in the bath because she had woken up from her nap completely drenched in pee since her diaper leaked. I told him it'll be a couple minutes and then she would be ready, I went to check on her. When I came back he was in her room and I saw his phone was in photo mode. I saw red! I berated him about taking photos of my home and how disrespectful it was. He at first tried to deny it but when I pushed the issue he finally admitted he was doing it at my Step mom's orders.
I was so upset. I told him to delete the photos and he told me if he didn't bring them he would get into trouble with my step mom. I said if I ever catch you taking photos of my home secretly again we would have a different convo. I did end up letting him take H (daughter) because I didn't want her to not have fun. I had told myself I would just talk to my step mom at the party and tell her that is a boundary that was crossed. (Yes in hindsight not a smart move for me but I didn't think it'd had gotten as bad as it did)
The party came and as I was just enjoying it everyone in my family was really heavily telling me I needed to spend the night, and I kept saying no because I had planned to work the next day and knew I'd stay and never work. I finally cornered my step mom and asked her to talk with me. She was refusing originally but I was persistent. I told her how bad it looked she was taking pictures of my home and she said "if I wanted to call CPS on you I wouldn't need pictures " 🚩number 2. I then told her it was a boundary for me for her to secretly take photos and have me feel like a poor parent because my home was messy. Her response to this was "honestly, I'm tempted to take H until you get your shit together."
I was dumb founded! I took my daughter and left. For three weeks I did not talk to them. After a week I let H face time them but I was not in the video chat and I would not say anything if very minimal. During those three weeks I worked non stop on the delivery apps and didn't really get any rest I was working mon-sun from 6am to 7 pm just to get gas and food money. I DID HEAR BACK AND HAD SEVERAL JOB INTERVIEWS LINED UP BY THIS TIME. By week three my dad and step mom asked me to come up and I felt I could handle it finally and said I'd come that Sunday. Well that Saturday I had a babys shower and my mom was teaching me how to cook turkey. I still worked in the am and was a little late to the shower. Mom and I had a blast at cooking turkey and the next day I woke up late. H didn't and by the time I woke up we had an hour before her nap. And if I'm honest I still didn't want to see my family. So I laid her down and fell back asleep untill about 3pm. I woke up in a panic because I knew I was in deep shit with my step mom. I rushed to get my kid and our stuff into my car and try to get up there as alfast as I could ( the drive was an hr from my moms 2 1/2 from my home) and as I was pulling out of my.moms street I got a text
" don't bother coming up because I wanted to spend the whole day with H not a few hrs." But I went anyways and the whole time my step mom tried to ignore me. She kept saying how she wanted H to stay the weekend and just have some time alone with her. Side note me and my husband both agreed by then our daughter would not be going to spend the night by herself for a very long time because I had reason my step mom was going to try and take her or try ro stop me from taking her back.
I kept saying.how I'd love to join them so I could reconnect with the family. My step mom did not sound happy with my suggestion. Well around 9 I finally said we had to leave because I needed to drive the 2 and a half hours back home. We said our good byes and headed out About 20 minutes into the drive I called my mom to see if I could spend the night again becaise she was closest, because I was worried with how tired I was I'd get into an accident. She of course agreed and I stayed the night. I stay lied at her house talking how the rest of that day had gone and she was weirded out too. I got to my home about 5 pm and 30 minutes later my MIL come knocking at the basement door in a tizzy because there was a CPS worker at her door. My heart stopped. My husband and I went up greeted the worker and let her in. She said that she was there because there had been a complaint against us. I knew right away who. And asked her if it was my step mom. She said she couldn't disclose that because her job was to keep the peace. Well she came to see the home and inspect it. After she asked questions and looked around. She stated that other then a few things around the house needed to be fixed (easy fixes too) she didn't see a reason for the call. She said the complaint was there was cat pee smell everywhere and it was bad. She said she knew we had two cats but couldn't smell them... that was kinda prideful for me. She said to clean the home and fix the few things physically. she would came back for a follow up in two weeks (it was early 3 months by the time she came back) she told me that she felt that she'd be able to close our case relatively easy. We bid her goodbye. And the first call was to my mom screaming and crying on how I didn't have a dad and that my step monster had really overstepped. I told her everything she was seething! So was my husband and MIL. I was in Shock and tears, I blocked my SM and called my dad crying and upset on what he just let happen and I got nothing back. Then I told my mom he didn't puck up she called him a cowered. She then took a call to him and cussed him out. I blocked him then unblocked him. And it wasn't until three days later he called me back i didnt answer. He said he didn't know I had called and that he would try my mom. When I heard that on the voice mail I took a little pleasure because he did not know what he was in for. J had to hold me because I had started to shake after hearing my dad's voice. I called my mom told her he would call and to call me when she was done. She did told me she cussed him out and told him how he has abandoned me yet again and how much of a shifty father he was to not protect me or to warn me what was transpireing from his wife. He defended himself and said he had no knowledge my mom didn't let him get away with that. And he admitted to knowing somthing but sisnt think she would go through with it.
I ignored his calls for two weeks. He called everyday. Which is sad to say he never did that before he would call maybe every other week. Then I got a message from my SM. " A it's obvious you don't see me as a mother but if you don't let your dad see H I will blast you on FB and put all the evidence out there. Becaise obviously I'm not your mother it hurts your dad that you rnt talking to him. I am a grown women who makes her own decisions and i called csp with out your fathers knowlage. (She mentions that obviously I don't see her as a mom again even though prior I did call her mom.)" I screen shotted the message and sent it to my dad and said this has to stop I will talk when I'm ready. About a week later I finally picked up my dad's call and I had him on speaker. I told him I felt I had no father and how he abandoned me. How he didn't tell me what was happening. And so much more.
But after that I started to forgive him because being mad is more work. Plus he isn't soly responsible. Now I see home on and off. But recently he has been gaslighting me when he brings the whole situation up. Saying things like
"It's hard on me because I want my whole family back", and "how SM didn't really call out of spite but to get you to do what she wanted. I had told him through the first meet up that I had a job lined up and had worked hard on the house. (At this point the house was immaculate its amazing what organization can do. Ps somthing i had been working on doing before all this happed!) During the first few days I couldn't work while we were cleaning because we were cleaning all day everyday. For two weeks I couldn't go work alone the apps because I was waiting for the cps worker to show up. J had started to work the apps and doing interviews during that time as well. my mom helped us with getting strage and food during the time I couldn't work. BTW I knew stroage is what we needed all along to our mess, and have been telling them all that. He praised me for the job and cleaning and I told him I didn't need his validation and I didn't get the job because of cps I had started looking before this all transpired. He asked why I didn't say anything because it would have had SM calm down and probably not call CPS. (Highly doubt it) I told him because it's my life and I'm going to live it the way I see fit not him and definitely not my SM.
But anyway like I said now he just gas lights me to day I have to make the first move because i made a TT when I was mad calling her a narcissistic abuser and she saw it and hurt her feelings and how she was not afraid she had hurt all of us.... 🙄. So am I the asshole for the TT and should I apologize for everything and speak first or what should I do now? I will say I wrote a note to her that I haven't sent expressing my feelings and what I needed to say. Thank you for any advice plus for reading this long story! Also sorry for bad Grammer and bad spelling lol. The messiness of the house consisted of laundry in baskets because I didn't have a place for towels and bedding and loads of books and other things I use on a regular with no storage. It's now organized and put away thanks to my amazing mom who helped me through this time of my life.
Now this is where I give what life looks like now.
The house is still a little messy but that's just home life with a toddler. The dishes are still done and laundry put away but now her toys are EVERYWHERE she finished her first year of PreK (it's for her speech therapy) and my fiancé and I are bis drivers and make ok money. It's still our first year of it but hey!
I worked at HD for a year and for several months of that year I worked both bus and HD working in till 5 at bus and from 530 to 10 pm. I quite HD to focuse on bus. No the catalyst for the job was NOT my sms doing and I don't care what she thinks
Yes I still have a relationship with my dad but he is at arms length at all times. Yes I left a lot out originally and now I see why that is bad.
I want to thank all the commenter before who wasn't tearing me down and shaming me for my PAST and trying to give me good vibes and helpful tips! I don't know how to delete comments I'm new to reddit. Please do not come for me for my PAST issues I'm not that pathetic person anymore. I have refound my original self and going strong and hard to figure out all the possibilities I can do to better my family every day.

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Some previous details. So in may 15th i had my baby boy. I had asked for an epidural which caused me to get a spinal fluid leak because the anesthesiologist was newer and poked me nearly a dozen times. I went home with out a blood patch because i was traumatized but by the 22nd of May i had to go back because the pain was unbearable. So May 22nd i had my blood patch.
Fast forward to tonight. I'm holding my baby and i was standing up bouncing him and trying to settle him down. He finally did settle down and i go to sit down on the rocking chair slowly. As soon as I'm trying to put my back against the chair i felt pain. It started from the top of my back and spread up wards at first to my neck. The pain was pulsating, i could feel my literal heartbeat there then it got really hot and my head started to throb a little. After that my whole back started to throb. I started to panic and i had the worst panic attack ever. I could not settle down, my husband was there thank god and grabbed the baby. I just felt burning on my back and was too scared to move. As of right now, as I'm typing, I'm laying down. My head does hurt a little and my aches and has a little burn to it, but sore. I was doing so fine.
What's the probably that my spinal blood patch undid it self? Would of it been worse? Maybe my panic attack made it seem more than it was? I don't want to go back to the hospital and I'm scared of going back to work (mid July) and risking my blood patch coming out 😭😭😭

As the title suggests, I have a basement that needs cooling. We just found out a bit ago that we have our first baby on the way, so the room that my PC/gaming equipment is in will be turned into baby’s room. I’ll be moving my stuff into the basement but this PC puts out a LOT of heat and our house (we live in a very old house on an Air Force base in Cheyenne, WY) doesn’t have AC.
The basement is separated into two rooms: a storm cellar area that doesn’t get used very much and a larger area that is where the washer, dryer, and other stuff is. There is a 3” hole in the wall between the two rooms, with no windows capable of opening and no other way to vent air out aside from the hole that the dryer vent is using.
Would it be possible to use the hole between the two rooms to vent the heat into the storm cellar while keeping the rest of the basement cool? It’s not usually particularly humid here so while an evaporative cooler could definitely work I’m a bit worried about the humidity possibly corroding my electronics (although maybe I’m just being really overly paranoid about that).
There is also a dryer vent that I could theoretically swap out vents with, but I was also wondering if it would be possible to purchase a “Y” splitter that’s kind of sectioned off in the middle to prevent lint from leaking back into a portable AC unit. Would such a thing be possible? I’ve tried finding a dual chamber splitter but I’m not sure if I’m using the right terms to search for it.
I could also ask base housing to maybe put a hole somewhere so that I could vent to outside but that would be an absolute last resort as they don’t like to mess with “historic housing”. Do I have any other options? What would you recommend?

The best night of my life. One of my childhood friends (who we’ll call Andrew) flew in to visit from another city and we started the day off by going to a botanical garden. The garden was in full bloom, which made for a really calming and meditative transition into the trip. I took the acid closer to the end of our garden visit and it started kicking in close to before we left the garden. We got on the bus where I had some very powerful closed-eye visuals. I felt like I was completely back in the garden. I even felt the outdoors breeze even though I was on a bus. I also couldn’t stop laughing at the thought of this old man I saw in a scooter. This was way funnier than it should’ve been at the time. Andrew and I got off the bus and walked to meet two of my other friends near the art gallery that unfortunately closed before we could enter. We opted to get food at a taco restaurant instead, where my trip peaked. My thoughts were so incoherent that my friends had to order food for me. The acid made the food taste amazing. The cold pickled onion combined with the hot pulled pork made for a really pleasant combination. I notice that on psychedelics you can taste parts of the food that you can’t taste sober and makes the food taste better, unlike weed, which only accomplishes the latter. Andrew and I then parted ways from my other two friends and made our way to the Death Grips concert, our favorite band. We got in line early and befriended some people who shared our passion for the band. I desperately needed to go to the bathroom because of the acid, so I temporarily got out of the line and searched frantically for a porta potty for around half an hour until I found a decrepit porta potty. The bottom third of the porta potty’s door was missing, and after waiting in line for the washroom I got in and the door swung open. One of the more disgusting parts about the toilet is that the bottom wasn’t attached, so urine leaked all over the base of the stall. I could’ve pissed on the floor and it would not have made a difference. This was the experience I paid for though; I would have been much more disappointed if the washroom at the death grips concert was squeaky clean. While in line, we heard that someone had pulled out a knife and saw police/security right past a booth where it had supposedly happened. After waiting in line and getting into the venue, I realized that despite the many conventionally attractive women that were present I was turning completely homosexual. I had no idea why this was happening, especially because I have never heard of anyone else turning gay on LSD. I was ready to suck and sling 7 cocks right then and there. In the venue we were all lucky to be the first ones in the world to hear some long anticipated unreleased music. Hearing music I had been waiting for teased live was exciting, especially because the sample they teased was flipped to perfection. After some delays, the band finally got on stage and delivered a breathtaking performance. I will never be able to put the high and sheer energy I experienced into words. Hundreds of people with the same fervent passion and will gathered in a room together ready to give it their all made for a night that cannot be described. More regular moshers than me said that this was their best moshing experience. A large man was launched, barreling into me at full speed with his whole weight on the tip of his elbow right into my stomach. I had to step out of the moshes and recuperate. This left a bruise for a week or so. I also happened to catch some familiar faces in the mosh, and we screamed when we saw one another. The final song, Hacker, may have been the single greatest moment of my life. Although everyone was exhausted, this song jumpstarted the whole crowd, as if we had forgotten that we were tired. Everyone tossed their drinks into the air and gave it their all, screaming in unison, crowd surfing, and tossing each other. The band left and small groups formed in and around the venue to share how their night went. I got news that someone overdosed during the concert (I believe they were okay in the end). The people in the mosh were visibly tweaking on some crazy energy boosting, probably dopaminergic drug. I had never seen that kind of power before. I met one of the people that I was waiting with in line and we walked around looking for company. We were met by some creepy man walking around with a camera and a doll baby head. The man offered to take a picture of us with the baby head, which we did because it sounded hilarious. After the fact though, he went on an overly detailed explanation about having sex with the baby’s head and walking around with the baby head attached to his penis like a scene from the American Psycho novel. Andrew and I reunited and started walking to a Subway to get a snack before we go home and sleep. On the way out we saw paramedics with a stretcher walking up to what we believe to have been a person who was either passed out or dead. This city’s drug problem is unfortunately really bad, so seeing what may have been a dead body on acid was a strange feeling. That about sums up the best day of my life.

Hi all,
Some quick background: moved into ~2.4k sq ft house last fall. HVAC system is 17 years old. During the winter we had some issues with our furnace keeping up with cold temps and it would also make very loud noise when starting up. Got an inspection and this is what came back on the report:
"Inducer motor making grinding noise. Working for now but owner knows it could go at anytime. It only does it intermittently". They quoted a few thousand to put in a new universal motor which we declined and got through the winter okay.
Fast forward to now, our AC has been running majority of the day to keep up on the 90 degree days. This week the condenser outdoors started making a really loud noise while running. It only happened once but we got a tech out to check it out because we have a newborn and can't lose AC during these hot days. Here were the issues they found during inspection:
"Found outdoor fan motor pulling 2.0amps when rated for 1.1. Motor is going bad. Capacitor will need replaced. System is low on refrigerant. Still cooling as of now but will leak out all refrigerant when hole is big enough. Indoor coil is rusted out and needs replaced. Homeowner wants quoted for new system. They have a new baby They have some cooling as of right now but not as much as needed."
The fixes they recommended were between $3-6k which we won't do given the age of the system. They pushed us to get a new HVAC system but wondering how dire this situation is and see if it's something we should do now or push our luck. Leaning toward just doing it now but would love any opinions.

I tried to keep this short and failed miserably. So buckle up, guys. This one is long. I (20f) don't want to be in a romantic relationship with a 20m because of his allergies. I will admit there's a bit more to it, but thats the jist of this particular predicament. A little bit of context: I grew up in a small rural area where (I kid you not) all the guys my age were in a relationship and/or were total creeps. I'm not the most attractive person by social standards, but I'm happy with how I am. But I attracted a fair share of creeps in school. For this reason, I haven't been on a date since I was 16, after the guy I had dated said on both of those dates that he was going to marry me (Keep in mind, this was the closest thing to my first boyfriend). After I called off the relationship, he stalked me for 6 months. There were other creeps, but this legitimately scared me. And I am a very skittish person. I've only very recently gotten interested in dating again, and as a New Years Resolution. Last year, I haf joined my sister's friend group, after 2 of them asked for my help pranking my sister. I knew many of their faces and names already, because most of them were in the grade below me in high school. We all became very close, very quickly. They got me into Magic the Gathering (we play Commander), we have random group outings when we're all free, and now I'm going to be an honorary aunt to one of the friends' future baby. One of the guys in the friend group (lets call him A) is the subject of this story. A was in the grade below mine (he's like 9 months younger than me). We didn't talk in high school, though apparently I asked him to be my driving buddy once in drivers' ed. But since I've joined the friend group, we, in particular, have gotten close. We talk about everything. And A is a gentleman. He will literally run to the register to pay for everyone's food (or tell the waiter it's on him), he fixed my tire without me telling him it had a slow leak, he gives everyone rides, and (as stereotypical as it sounds) his smile makes my heart melt. For Christmas, he took the whole group up to the Shedd Aquarium and paid for EVERYTHING, including good parking, and a locker to put our stuff in. I mean, holy crap, thats the nicest thing anyone's ever done. All-in-all, A's just an amazing guy, and I do like him a lot. Now, here's my dilemma: I dropped community college for personal reasons almost a year and a half ago. Since then, I've been working 1-2 part time jobs plus odd jobs in order to slowly save money so I could attend a good cosmetology school in my area. I adore makeup and hair! I dye my hair some outrageous color (usually a vibrant red) at least twice a year; I wear fun, dramatic, heavy, dark makeup whenever I go out; I've even done a full-body cosplay of Harley Quinn (which involved using a good white body paint mixed with a light foundation on my arms and legs). The problem? A is allergic to makeup. Like, l-brush-on-a-tiny-bit-of -foundation-and-break-out-into-hives, allergic. He showed me a picture from a while back when his now-ex kissed him on the side of the mouth. From what A told me, it was just a lip plumpegloss, but half of his mouth and parts of his cheek and jaw had swelled, and a good extra chunk of his face and neck had been covered in hives. And I knew this girl in school. She uses hypoallergenic makeup! And yes, you can be allergic to mypoallergenic makeup. Somewhat-luckily, though, A's allergy is the type of allergy where if he touches it, it causes a reaction, so it's a relief that I can usually be in the same room as him without causing a reaction. Still, this scares me. A few hours ago he came by my workplace and asked what I wanted for my birthday (I turn 21 in a week). After trying to convince him that a giftcard to Starbucks would be perfect (since I use the app to get deals, and get a small drink and a cake pop every week anyway), I half-jokingly said I want a tattoo of a butterfly on my foot, and he said something along the lines of, "That's more of a gift you get after a year of dating, don't you think?" The way he phrased it was much smoother. But if that wasn't a confession of some kind, I don't know what is. I was dumbfounded, but then went back to tell him a Starbucks card would be perfect. Now, I don't know what to do. I was willing to let this crush die out, but now I'm 80% sure he's into me. A is one of the kindest guys I've met, certainly one of the only decent single guys in my age group in my area (like I said, in my area a lot of the guys are either taken or very creepy), but he's allergic not only to one of my favorite hobbies, but what will be my entire career! Irony at its finest. The last thing I want is be a legitimate health risk to a man I have come to care for so deeply. I'd love to continue being friends with A, but I don't want to be in a relationship where I could hurt him with a simple kiss. So, am I the asshole for not dating a guy because his allergies are in opposition to my future career?

I was using a compostable diaper service with our 5mo, it was good until he started sleeping through the night then all the brands they carry started to leak so we stopped the service. I had used Millie Moon when he was a newborn and it was really really good, but I heard they started adding more chemicals to their diapers as of lately, so we tried Coterie, and even though they said that Millie Moon was a Coterie’s dupe, I find (the old) Millie Moons waaaay better. Coteries are too thick and not breathable at all, it’s giving my baby rash. Any way - any recommendations on a “clean” brand with soft diapers that don’t leak? Thanks!

Hi everyone I’m gonna try to keep this short but my mind is running a million miles a minute and I’m just feeling really overwhelmed and looking for some unbiased feedback. I (25F) had my daughter four years ago. At the time my life was in shambles, so my pregnancy was horrible for many reasons. It was traumatic. I was homeless (found housing right at the end of pregnancy), being abused, very sick, having a lot of physical complications, etc etc. I developed neonatal depression and attempted to unalive a few times during pregnancy, and then developed severe PPD and PPOCD after her birth that took years to ease up. All in all my experience with her was horrible, and although she is and always has been a wonderful kid, I’ve always struggled with how it all went. A few years ago I became pregnant again, she was very young and we (her dad and I) weren’t in a good place in our relationship, my mental health was still erratic, etc etc so I decided to terminate. I ended up hemorrhaging a few days later and almost died. It was hard on both me and him and it took over a year for either of us to start to recover from it. I became extremely paranoid about protection and safe sex and it hadn’t been a problem again. Last year I firmly decided I was okay being OAD and despite him wanting more kids, he agreed it was best for our family. Then comes yesterday. Period was a week late. I took a test mostly just for shits and giggles, because there really didn’t seem to be any possible way I was pregnant. Like I said, we are extremely safe (and I know for sure the condoms were good/didn’t break/didn’t have leaks bc we squeeze them after to make sure there’s no leaking). Lo and behold, I’m pregnant. Most likely about five weeks based on my last period and the last time we had sex. I live in an illegal state, but I do have access to pills, so I am not worried about being unable to do it. I have time to think. My immediate thought was of course “no”. I have been so firmly OAD, I have been content accepting this reality of my future for everyone’s best interest, but now that the option is on the table…I’m faltering. I keep thinking about all the ways this could work, that things are better than they were last time, that maybe this could be lovely and a better experience. I know the things that make me want to keep it are ultimately brief good moments and don’t outweigh the reality that there is a reason we decided not to have more, but those possible good moments are eating away at me. Especially since I know, and he knows, odds are if we’re ever going to have another one, this is our last chance. After this, he will likely get a vasectomy, I will likely double down on my fear of becoming pregnant and be even more preventative, and the option likely won’t present itself again. I can’t see myself ever actively trying for a baby, I never have. I know this by itself is reason enough to know I should not go through with this. I know even if my environment is better, odds are mentally I will feel the same way I did with my daughter and I don’t deserve that, neither does she, neither does my partner. My physical health has also gotten worse since last time, I am attending multiple doctor appointments a week for various treatments and consultations and I am often unable to function with one kid let alone two. I know it truly would be best to terminate. But that decision was also hard in a different way. It nearly broke us. It DID break us in different ways. It’s not that we don’t want another one, it’s that we know logically we can’t unless we want to risk things we don’t want to risk. We didn’t want to be OAD, we just knew it was best and had grown comfortable with this future. But until now the option hadn’t even been on the table again. We didn’t have to debate it. It’s a lot harder for me to stand by that perspective when I see those two lines. He obviously is on board with whatever I do. If I keep or terminate, he is supportive and will be there for me. And I know logically I would rather decide to lose a baby and mourn it, than have one and end up unable to do it. But I am so sad about having to decide to end another pregnancy. I am so sad about being unable to give either of us another child because of my mental and physical health. I know it is my decision, but I don’t actually feel like I have a choice. In an ideal world, I think I would continue the pregnancy. But that isn’t the reality. And I’m just struggling a lot with coming to terms with this, I’m blaming myself a lot for it, and I don’t know. Needed some confirmation that I’m not failing if I decide not to take the risk of continuing I guess. That it isn’t my fault and it is best. Or maybe I just needed to vent. I don’t know. I’m just so torn and depressed.

Just sharing how stoked I am to be joining you! I am TTC and wanted to get it down with my first child before the next one comes along. I am so mad I didn’t do this sooner, could’ve saved some serious money. I bought alva baby pockets/AIOs/hemp/bamboo inserts and washed them 6 times. They are SUPER absorbent and I was originally so worried about leaks.
Edit: Title, this not thins lol.

So I've got a 2017 WRX and it's the first turbo'd car I've owned. First I was concerned about the valve tap noises but from research it's super normal and my 2.0 Jetta had valve tap when I got it and this WRX is no where near as loud as that poor thing was. Now I'm concerned I have a boost leak but idk really what a boost leak is.
The car seems stock besides exhaust. Don't think it's tuned because the max psi I've reached is 15 but I was concerned because when I got it the max reached was like 21. I get usually between 5 to 10 psi if I give it about 30% acceleration or more in 4th and 5th gear (not much 6th gear driving around me). 1st thru 3rd i barely get any boost unless I really get on it.
I'm a fairly conservative driver. I don't let my RPMs get to high between shifts and I baby every car I've owned. The car feels like it's fine but again idk shit about turbos or what boost leak or turbo lag feels like. TIA for any advice for a new WRX owner.

Hello! We have some second hand cloth diapers that are starting to leak. I have read that beeswax is safe for baby skin and also commonly used to waterproof fabrics. Wondering if anyone has experience using beeswax to re-waterproof cloth diapers? The outer leaky layer is polyester so in theory would work...
If we do give it a go, what is best way of washing: can we still use our washing machine? Can we still use hot water? Can we still use drier? Thanks in advance for the help!

I am 6 weeks pp and I’m having let down almost every hour and sometimes twice an hour. It’s getting to the point where it’s painful every hour and my nipple pain is constant. I pump every 4 hours and get about 52-56 oz a day that I count and it’s just keeps increasing. If I try to pump less frequently than that, my supply tanks and I worry about being able to feed my baby long term. Is it normal to constantly be leaking and engorged? Will my supply self regulate?

So I will start off my saying “I’m not fluent in car speak” so bare with me as I try and explain what’s going on.
I just got my baby Azula, last week. She’s had one owner with 140k miles. When I was driving home I turned on the a\c and it smelled like a go kart inside. I thought maybe because she is almost 10, it just needed to “warm up” but after a couple of days I realized that wasent the problem. I’m going at attach some pics. But I realized that the hose(the thing with all the zip ties) wasent connected properly. I decided to Jerry rig it with zip ties. There were no screws besides one super long one that I’m 99.9% sure shouldn’t be there.
Second problem I got an notification about the engine coolant being low. I refilled it Wednesday and the notification came back on yesterday. I know I filled it up all the way because I kinda went over the max line alittle bit. So that is a sign the coolant tank thing is cracked or has a leak?
I have warranty from the dealer that covers power train and engine. Just not sure if this counts.