Flower shops in clarks summit pa

Leggings and cotton candy…. (grab you some popcorn)

2023.03.29 08:29 Life-Net-8904 Leggings and cotton candy…. (grab you some popcorn)

Look. I waterspider. It’s helped me lose weight before I started taking weight loss serious and since Dec 4th I’ve lost 22 pounds but man… I’m losing the thrill to waterspider.
Especially when you bust your tail during slow work nights and a few “work sitting everywhere” nights. Working the wraps with guys who don’t downstack. Knowingly staffing 5k/6k stowers at the very ends of your reach and then get called out on the radio when I’m helping the face waterspiders deal with reactive. AM got on the radio and had the nerve to say “yea we need work at 2156” no duh! The wasp working the vrc can’t pull it off fast enough so they had me run over to help out.
You “you must have a sucky PA” -The PA that was on our floor is now working down at the docks and we haven’t had a PA since end of December🤷. They trained a PA for 2 weeks and I guess he dipped. Our PG who is now in a PA spot, let’s call him a “PGA” since it’s fitting and it work, they didn’t train any other water spiders to take his spot so now we’re down a wasp. When the conveyor is FULL our 2nd head wasp will “slowly” downstack totes 4 high when no one’s looking with the belt backed up to the diverter 🤔🤷. Then gets upset when I downstack a pallet 5 high or add a row to his 4 high because once again taking a pallet 4 high to a 5k stower is like leaving a box of hot nuggets in front of a rottweiler. “Go grab some case work from the vrc!” -Can’t, they barely have any buffer “Must be low on work” Aht aht, THE NUMBERS say we have enough work in the yard but we’re not clearing trailers anywhere near the rate we used to. A month ago someone decided that the guys on west side dock where I was needed a great reset. All upstairs guys in the trucks? Go back upstairs, we will put random decanters in the trucks and oh boy that back fired. See the guys who come to work and bust out 3-4 trucks a night like me are guys who WANTED to be down there and now you got randos that wander away mysteriously for decent amount of times. The PA that’s supposed to be upstairs on our floor I see him stressed out working in the trucks because he isn’t the only one noticing that the numbers say “we’re not clearing trucks fast enough” and that in itself is funny because the dock PA who was a stow PA that ran the docks flawlessly would move us in places to maximize our work and let us get breathers when he knew we were busting out work, so he rarely worked in the trucks because once again he had guys who wanted to be in the trucks working vs randos. But he got sent upstairs and so did i and a few others. I bumped into one of the ladies who runs the vrc down there and she gave me the 😔 face. She said "go ask (I forgot who the person in charge is) if you can come back down here we need some good workers" 🤔 but why would I politic to come back to come back to the dock when basically you sent us upstairs? Why would you go to a chicks house to ask to come back when she kicked you out 😂😂
So, upstairs stuff again You “Your AM must suck! -Ding ding ding!!! I now value a good AM like never before! Even in the stand ups he lets his "PGA" run the show. Prime example of "if you let others give you their job things, they won't take it away to do it themselves unless you say something” our last shift stand up PGA did the safety/quality stuff and all our AM had to say was "well he pretty much said everything" no duh! Cause he did your job for you! I also feel like this is setting the stage for our PGA to take a fall for when some sh*t hits the fan because due to these woeful numbers our shift is putting up and getting sugar coated. Our AM keeps telling us "we're 2nd In production floor wise"…..it’s only 3 floors
But he does NOT tell us that vs other day shift and night shift floors that ours is the 2nd to worst which is why we have had more operations guys on our floor these past few weeks trying to figure out what's going on.
So PGA at one point was like "yea.... I'd rather have a pallet jack and be waterspidering with you guys..." but do you really? 🤔 I'm starting to think PGA has gotten used to that laptop. Yeaaaa that's it! PGA isn't saying a thing because he gets off the pallet jack and gets to walk around with the laptop, now you are going to say "oh that's fine let him have that"
But if you know Amazon, like I KNOW AMAZON he is going to get blindsided one day when they bring in ANOTHER PA for him to train for the job he's doing and say "🥹👉👈 hey here's Ashlee, she's the new PA on the floor can you train her to do the exact job you're doing? And since I’m your AM I know how hard you work and you’ve mentioned you want to be PA but it’s not up to me so sorry, biyeeee” Oh aaaaaand once she gets trained it's going to be a "hey you can wasp one of the faces now since our PA is trained and we don't need you" and not even ask him before hand if he wanted the PA spot. Granted I don’t know if he’s qualified or even interviewed yet for a PA spot but still.
So yea. I put in for a transfer to get me one of these cake jobs that them women in leggings and strawberry/cotton candy perfume have and getting away from this mess. Sad part is when I leave they won’t give me my flowers for busting my tail all those nights and sliding guys smalls to help them out like a good wasp should. It is what it is. The floor is a mess and whether ppl know or care these bad rates due to overall bad work going on sets you in the chance as a stower to get sat in that bottom 5% for a write up. Sorry for long post but hope you enjoyed the read, comment what crap you got going on at your fc so I can eat your sorrows for breakfast 😂😂😂
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2023.03.29 08:12 ASGfan Episodic Review - My Ellen (S4, E3)

This is the 3rd episode of season 4 and so far this season, we’ve had dog death, infidelity and corruption, but if you were looking for a lighthearted and whimsical episode to balance things out, you won’t find it here. We begin with the Ingalls girls making the trek after school to the Taylor residence, where Laura plays a part in successfully convincing Mrs. Taylor to let her daughter Ellen go swimming with them. Laura wants to use a shortcut across Busby’s place, but Mary threatens to tell Pa. Laura thinks the better of it, knowing Mary would keep her promise. They take off for the pond with a grown man watching their activities from the bushes. As it turns out, he isn’t the only one as two boys try to peep in on the girls swimming. Carrie wanders over and asks them what they are doing. The boys reply that they’re fishing, but Carrie doesn’t buy that and asks them what they are fishing with. You can mark these boys down as the first people in the universe to be outsmarted by Carrie. Carrie yells over to Laura and she, Ellen and Mary all duck down in the pond. The boys head for the hills while Laura and Mary resurface. Ellen does not. Precious moments tick by as Mary yells and admonishes Ellen for not returning. Mary is usually smarter than this. The next thing we know, it’s nightfall and the torches and canoes are out and it’s pretty clear they’re looking for a body now. How exactly Ellen drowned remains unclear. Standard Walnut Grove funeral with Reverend Alden presiding. Mrs. Taylor naturally has some trouble accepting her daughter’s death as she breaks down at the casket. Remarkably, she resumes her composure and blames Laura for the incident. Laura starts to wonder if she really is responsible, but Pa tells her she is not. Back at the Taylor residence, Reverend Alden stops by with some bible passages he thought might be of some comfort. Mrs. Taylor is not in a religious mood and evicts Alden and shouts “And take your damn book with you” while throwing the Bible at him and staring icy cold daggers at him in the process. Wild. Mrs. Taylor goes through Ellen’s mementoes a little later. Her husband walks in and now his wife is directing some of the blame at him. Eloise orders him to get out.
Over at the mill, Jonathan goes for a ride in the wheel and gets dizzy. He heads over to the Mercantile for a sarsaparilla and Reverend Alden gives him some serious crap over it, thinking that he’s drunk. This is a fairly long sequence for something that isn’t integral to the plot. This is also during that weird 4-5 episode period in between where Jonathan was introduced, but we hadn’t seen Alice or Andy yet. Alden catches up with Charles at the mill and asks him to ask Caroline to talk to Mrs. Taylor since he was getting nowhere with his efforts. Charles obliges and Caroline obliges, but she heads over to the Taylor residence to find Mr. Taylor on his way out and Mrs. Taylor not in the mood to talk and still blaming Laura for what happened. The next day, the girls are walking to school when Laura gets the idea to take some flowers to Mrs. Taylor. Mary warns her about cutting across Busby’s again, but Laura isn’t going to be dissuade this time. Laura knocks on Mrs. Taylor’s door, which pops right open. She hands Mrs. Taylor the flowers, which was apparently something Ellen did often. Mrs. Taylor goes in and out of reality, occasionally mistaking Laura for Ellen. It should be noted Laura has blonde highlights in her hair for this episode and Ellen was blonde. I’m not sure why they couldn’t just make Ellen the same hair color as Laura, but whatever. Mrs. Taylor asks Laura to fetch some apples from the fruit cellar and as Laura does, she pulls up the ladder, thus trapping Laura in the dark cellar. She then takes Laura’s flowers and books and heads out of the house.
Mary runs over to the mill from the school to inform Pa that Laura never made it to class and that she planned to go over to Mrs. Taylor’s using Busby’s place as a shortcut. Strangely, Charles and Jonathan aren’t too concerned about it. Nonetheless, they decide to check over at Mrs. Taylor’s, who denies having seen Laura that day. The guys decide to check out Busby’s place next, and we see Busby (who is a bit slow) looking at the picture book. Jonathan finds the picture book a little later and he and Charles round up some men, but nobody finds anything more of note today.
The next day, Mrs. Taylor heads over to the mercantile, where she purchases birthday candles, a birthday doll and mentions that her daughter Ellen brought her flowers yesterday. This weirds out Harriet. An absolutely unreal chain of events follows next as the men finally close in on Busby, who takes off running and Mr. Taylor shoots him in the head and nearly kills him. Keep in mind that Busby is mentally slow and hasn’t been found guilty of any crime or even charged with one. The men take Busby over to Doc Baker’s and while he’s recuperating, Charles gives him the third degree on Laura’s whereabouts, then grabs him by the collar and starts to rough him up. CHARLES INGALLS CHOKES INNOCENT PEOPLE WHO WERE JUST SHOT IN THE HEAD! Garvey gets Charles to back off. Busby responds much better to Garvey’s soft-spoken approach and answers the questions as best he can. He just wanted to look at the pictures. Surreal moment as Garvey tells Busby “Nobody here going to hurt you”, when the man that just shot him and that man that just choked him are in the room. Busby eventually passes out. Harriet busts in and informs the men about all the weirdness with Mrs. Taylor in the mercantile. Pa rushes over to the Taylor residence, but just as he does that, Laura has outsmarted Mrs. Taylor and found a way out of the cellar. Eloise gives chase and tackles Laura in a last-ditch effort, but they collapse by Ellen’s grave and reality has finally started to sink in for Mrs. Taylor. Pa reunites with Laura. Finally, after 45 minutes of child death, suggestions of child molestation and murder and innocent people being horribly attacked, we get a touching moment as Laura befriends Busby and gives him the picture book back.
Gah, that was just horrifying. Mrs. Taylor apparently suffers no consequences for kidnapping and false imprisonment. We don’t even get the “They decided to have another child” ending. Nope, nothing.
EPISODE WINNERS – Harriet once again, for leading the men in the right direction and Laura as well for enduring what she did and having the ability to outsmart an adult to get away.
EPISODE LOSERS – Mr. Taylor for being trigger happy, Mrs. Taylor for her crimes, and Charles for kicking people when they’re down.
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2023.03.29 07:51 Live-Tumbleweed-7318 All customers I’ve unlocked today!✨

All customers I’ve unlocked today!✨ submitted by Live-Tumbleweed-7318 to AnimalRestaurant [link] [comments]

2023.03.29 07:44 DallasBartoon how can you get 10 10 pulls for the Eternal Crates without spending money?

How do they expect people to get enough gems without spending money to get the "guaranteed" items that require 100 pulls (10 10 pulls) from the Eternal Crates? Like I need 1 more Eternal Suit to make it red and I want to get it from the E Crates, but it's gonna take 26,800 gems to get it.
That's basically $100 worth of gems in the shop, and only if you havent already bought the $100 gem chest before because the first time purchase doubles it. So if it's not the first time purchase, it would basically cost $200. I can't even get enough from the Expert Fund by leveling up to get it before it ends tomorrow. That's ridiculous that it costs that much.
You'd be better off waiting for an event and spending $50 to get the packs that come with a "choose your own S-Grade" crate, especially because those usually come with gems, gold, essence, and whatever item the event is using like the flowers in the current event that allows you to get even more stuff.
Is anyone doing this? I could see someone who has saved up say 30k gems doing it, but is it even worth it? Wouldn't it be better to save gems for the next event? This is something that most people could either never accomplish without spending shit loads of money, or maybe do it once if they had saved up a ton of gems and really needed 1 more item to upgrade. Otherwise I see it as a complete waste and/or a money pit.
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2023.03.29 05:05 Fantastic_Beans Sometimes I wonder how I survived childhood

I grew up towards the end of the free range child era and with that comes a lot of stupid close calls stories. I just found this sub and it brought some of those memories back, so I thought I'd share!
Story #1
My parents bought a house at the very edge of a developing subdivision. Backing right up to our backyard was a cow field full of black angus steers. I assume those boys have long since been bought off the shelf at the meat section of a grocery store. Anyways, from time to time, a cow would figure out it could slip between the barbed wire and end roaming our neighborhood. A favorite past time of mine was to play cowboy and "herd" these thousand pound animals back into the pasture. I was probably 9 or 10 at the time. It's a wonder I never got my ass trampled.
Story #2
Well after a few years, the cows were moved and the pasture was opened up for further development. This meant that there were multiple construction sites wide open for us kids to explore with reckless abandon. My brother and I loved to play in the "quicksand" that formed after a heavy rain.
Let me explain. These construction sites were incredibly muddy due to the leveling that had to be done prior to houses being built. After a heavy rain, the mixture of mud and sand and water would form, well, quicksand. And I mean the real deal. If you stood in this stuff, you would sink. I recall one particular time where I managed to sink in as far as my waist and was having an absolute blast while my brother played rescue hero pulling me out. I remember the mud was like a suction cup once it had you. You couldn't pull someone straight out, you had to pull yourself horizontal and let someone else drag you out with a rope. We thought it was so cool, just like on TV! Yeah, it's a miracle, I tell you.
Story #3
As the development on the neighborhood continued, so did the placement of vital infrastructure. Namely sewer pipes. Yeah, you know where this is going. Miles of massive concrete pipes stretching underground in total darkness? "Sign me up!" Said kid me.
My brother and I would wander that sewage system on the days the workers had off. We were smart enough to leave a trail so we could find our way out again...just not smart enough to not crawl around in a sewer in the first place.
Story #4
On one of the few occasions I stayed in my own backyard, I happened upon this bush with nice, pink flowers that my mom had planted. My lil ADHD ass loved to pick leaves and crumble them up in my hand. Don't know why. My eyes set on my newest victim and I plucked one of the long, pointy leaves to crumble. It produced a clear, sticky sap that wouldn't come off my hands, so I did the most logical thing and licked it to clean it off. Yeah, kids are gross.
Well, to my horror and amazement, this sap was the most blood curdlingly bitter taste that my little taste buds ever did taste. So what did I do? I immediately found my brother and we competed to see who could lick the most bitter sap. What was the plant, you ask? Why, it was oleander, of course.
Story #5
I loved catching creepy crawlies in the garden. As a young kid, you could catch me tearing up the weed guard in mom's garden to see if there was anything cool living underneath. On one such occasion, I remember seeing, out of the corner of my eye, a little, white, wiggling worm.
I turned to stare at my latest find. I'd never seen anything like it. The way this worm danced in and out of the mulch, the way it's two heads flickered. I reached for it, wanting a closer look. Suddenly, there was a flash of white and then it came into focus. It wasn't a white worm. It was the flickering tongue of a cottonmouth viper. Fun fact: they're called cottonmouths because the inside of their mouths are white! They open their mouths and reveal the white inside when they feel threatened.
Story #6
Somehow surviving my adolescence, I ventured down to the beach for vacation one year. It was the evening, my parents were chilling in the spot they'd claimed, and I was screwing around by the tide. About 13 or 14 now, I considered myself quite the photographer. I picked up just about any critter I found to snap a selfy with. Crabs, sea urchins (yeah as if those weren't bad enough), and of course...shells.
I was amazed when I found this perfectly intact, cone shaped shell. It was so pretty, just like the ones sold in the gift shops! Oh, and there was a funny little snail guy inside! I peered at my new friend and took absolute delight in the little leg he prodded my hand with before I eventually tossed him back into the sea.
I found out years later. Yeah, cone snails don't have legs.
So that's all I got for now. I survived to adulthood, somehow, and now I'm a homebody with anxiety. Who woulda thought!
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2023.03.29 04:55 raj9898930989 [Store] 8a8a's Store of Ti5/Ti6/TI7/TI8/TI9/TI10/Nemestice/Aghanim's Collector's Caches Sets/Ultra Rare Immortals

-hey !!i sale collecter cache with legit price and if you dont find any cache in my inventry kindly tell me i will arrange from my trusted sources.

-payment crypto usdt/binance/paypal (10% Discount of total value)

My Main Steam Profile Link:- https://steamcommunity.com/profiles/76561198124670726/
My Dotagiftx Profile:- https://dotagiftx.com/profiles/76561198124670726
My Other Steam Profile Link:- https://steamcommunity.com/id/Arjan007

(1) The International 2015 Collector's Cache:-

Set Name Hero Price(USD)
Serpent of the Emerald Sea Medusa 50$
Flowersong Tempest Windranger 70$
Garb of the Cunning Augur Rubick 45$
Flowing Entropy Spectre 50$
Echoes of the Eyrie Vengeful Spirit 35$
Armor of the Unyielding Mask Juggernaut 80$
Beacon of Cerulean Light Skywrath Mage 35$
Apostle of Decay Necrophos 55$
Brawler of the Glacier Sea Tusk 50$
Fires of Vashundol Doom 100$

(2)The International 2016 Collector's Cache:-

Set Name Hero Price(USD)
Doomsday Ripper Pudge 150$
Creeping Shadow Pa 150$
Diabolical Fiend SF 75$
Stormwrought Arbiter Sven 75$
Fortified Fabricator Tinker 65$
Fractured Envoy Arc warden 50$
Wartorn Heavens Zues 55$
Heir of Terror bane 25$
Oni Knight the Dark Conqueror ck 40$

(1)The International 2017 Collector's Cache:-

Set Name Hero Price(USD)
Meranth Dragoon Sven 35 $
Mechalodon Interdictor Gyrocopter 18 $
The Dread Prophet Nature's Prophet 18 $
Eternal Testament Death Prophet 18 $
Chitinous Stalker Nyx Assassin 18 $
Riptide Raider Monkey King 18 $
Secrets of the Katekhein Winter Wyvern 15 $

(2)The International 2018 Collector's Cache I and Cache II :-

Set Name Hero Price(USD)
Molokau Stalker Venomancer 15 $
Dread Ascendance Doom 23 $
Fate Meridian Invoker 23 $
Trail of the Sanguine Spectrum Bloodseeker 15 $
Ire of Molten Rebirth Phoenix 17$
Shackles of the Enduring Conscript Axe 17$
Endowments of the Lucent Canopy (Very rare) Shadow Shaman 65 $
Pattern of the Silken Queen Broodmother 15 $
Shimmer of the Anointed Nyx Assassin 10$
Pitmouse Fraternity Meepo 13 $
Fires of the Volcanic Guard Ember Spirit 18 $
The Rat King Chen 13 $
Cruelties of the Spiral Bore Magnus 20 $
Raiments of the Obsidian Forge Underlord 20 $
Loaded Prospects Brewmaster 18 $
Primer of the Sapper's Guile Techies 15 $
Insights of the Sapphire Shroud dark seer 13 $
Morbific Provision Witch Doctor 18$
Pillar of the Fractured Citadel Spirit Breaker 15$
Pitfall Crusader Pangolier 18$
Raptures of the Abyssal Kin qop 15$
Third Awakening dk 25$

(3) The International 2019 Collector's Cache I and Cache II :-

Set Name Hero Price(USD)
Allure of the Faeshade Flower Dark Willow 15$
Tribal Pathways Warlock 11$
Grim Destiny Wraith King 13$
Verdant Predator Venomancer 11$
Dapper Disguise pudge 13$
Directive of the Sunbound Clockwerk 13$
Fury of the Bloodforge Bloodseeker 13$
Endless Night Abaddon 18$
Sight of the Kha-Ren Faithful Drow Ranger 15$
Tales of the Windward Rogue Pangolier 15$
Automaton Antiquity Broodmother 13$
Distinguished Expeditionary Tusk 13$
Prized Acquisitions Batrider 7$
Fury of the Bloodforge Bloodseeker 13$
Souls Tyrant Sf 25$
Fowl Omen Necro 18$
Pursuit of the Ember Demons Huskar 15$
Forbidden Medicine Dazzle 15$
Echoes of the Everblack Abaddon 18$
Defender of Ruin Disruptor 25$
Adornments of the Jade Emissary Earth Spirit 18$
Priest of the Proudsilver Clan Chen 12$
The Arts of Mortal Deception Engima 7$
Poacher's Bane Tidehunter 15$
Riddle of the Hierophant Oracle 15$
Scorched Amber Dk 18$
Curse of the Creeping Vine Undying 15$
Paean of the Ink Dragon Grimstroke 15$

(3) The International 2020 Collector's Cache I and Cache II :-

Set Name Hero Price(USD)
Ravenous Abyss Underlord 7.50$
Apocalypse Unbound AA 7.50$
Beholden of the Banished Ones Warlock 7.50$
Fury of the Righteous Storm Disruptor 5$
Silent Slayer Silencer 10$
Mindless Slaughter pudge 15$
Heartless Hunt Bounty hunter 10$
Herald of the Ember Eye Grimstroke 10$
Fissured Flight jakiro 7.5$
Flashpoint Proselyte Husker 15$
Signs of the Allfather Nature prophet 10$
Glory of the Elderflame Lina 20$
Origin of the Dark Oath Night Stalker 20$
Songs of Starfall Glen Enchantress 4$
Ancient Inheritance Tiny 25$
Forsworn Legacy Mars 40$
Evolution of the Infinite Engima 6$
Beast of the Crimson Ring bristle back 10$
Clearcut Cavalier Timber 6$
The King Of Thieves Keeper of light 7$
Horror from the Deep Tide 18$
Ire of the Ancient Gaoler Arc warden 20$
Talons of the Endless Storm ck 10$
Carousal of the Mystic Masquerade Rubick 6$
Crown of Calaphas Shadow demon 10$
Wrath of the Fallen doom 12$
Blacksail Cannoneer Sniper 10$
Secrets of the Celestial Skywrath mage 7$
Blaze of Oblivion Phoenix 6$
Steward of the Forbidden Chamber Templar Assassin 20$
Master of the Searing Path Ember 25$

(4) Nemestice 2021 Collector's Cache:-

Set Name Hero Price(USD)
Silence of the Starweaver Oracle 10$
Caerulean Star Enchantress 8$
Astral Terminus Enigma 8$
Twilight Hex Dark Willow 14$
Litany of the Damned Doom 14$
Arcane Inverter Gyrocopter 15$
Creed of the Skullhound Lycan 20$
Desert Bloom Nature's Prophet 14$
Eyriebound Imperator Skywrath Mage 10$
Anthozoan Assault Tiny 18$
Vision of the Seraph Scion Vengeful Spirit 20$
Defender of the Brumal Crest Winter Wyvern 10$
Red Sands Marauder Shadow Shaman 20$
Footfalls of the Sporefathers Witch Doctor 50$

(5)Ultra Rare Immortals:-

Set name Hero Price
The Strings of Suradan Bundle Hoodwink 35$
Bloodfeather Finery Queen of Pain 55$

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2023.03.29 04:22 -XAPAKTEP- Planning a project. Looking for advice.

So I got me a dream 2004 6-speed about 7 years ago. Rode it daily in the beginning almost never now. But it starts and runs every time. I also got a running motor out of an automatic. I've been wanting to build it up. I mean do the rebuild before the boom. Preferably with improvements, both in reliability and power. Nothing crazy. Still want a balanced car. Maybe a street port. Etc.
So if anyone can refer decent sources for parts that will or could be needed. Maybe a good shop or two, or somebody who's good(ny nj pa tristate area). It would be much appreciated. Also places people or companies it'd be wise to stay away from.
Any well thought out ideas from people who know what they're talking about are welcome and appreciated.
I believe in you & Thank you
submitted by -XAPAKTEP- to RX8 [link] [comments]

2023.03.29 04:14 Vegetable-Sock-9952 Low GPA Lesbian Gets Denied From Top Choice But Has a Happy Ending

Intended Major(s): Women's/Sexuality/Gender Studies
Standardized Testing
List the highest scores earned and all scores that were reported.
List all extracurricular involvements, including leadership roles, time commitments, major achievements, etc.
  1. Social Justice - Founded coalition of artists donating profits from commissions to rotating charities every 3 months.
  2. Internship - interpret curriculum for LGBTQ+ diversity training for medical professionals into interactive lesson plans and videos.
  3. LGBT - Events chair of school GSA
  4. Other Club/Activity - Founded school's fashion club (serves as a sustainable fashion activism club)
  5. Religious - President of school JSU, stepped down senior year to allow for new leadership, doubled club membership from pre pandemic
  6. Religious - treasurer of local youth Jewish group
  7. TheateDrama - campaign director of social committee, assistant directed production and participated in varying degrees in a variety of plays throughout highschool
  8. Theatedrama - taught at a theatre summer camp for 11-15 year olds
  9. Internship - at the mayor's office, helped develop app for local art tours
  10. Work(Paid) - worked at local pottery painting shop
Letters of Recommendation
AP Research Teacher - Had a difficult beginning of the year in her class but she was able to see me grow as a student and I ended up doing really well on the AP and found a passion for humanities related research that I want to continue in college, I was able to read the letter and it was very good
AP English Language + Creative Writing - Hyped me up, probably talked about how I'm a good storyteller and my creativity. He is my homeroom teacher so we have a great relationship
AP Statistics and Statistics 2 - Did not do well in his AP class Junior year due to struggling mental health, took his optional secondary statistics class so we have a good relationship, I believe he spoke a lot about my growth.
All the interviews went fairly well I believe, I managed to connect with the interviewers pretty well and got to talk a lot but also ask a lot of engaging questions.
Personal Statement - Spent a really long time on it, multiple people cried after reading it so I believe it was good
Supplements were all okay but not my best writing, especially compared to personal statement
Decisions (indicate ED/EA/REA/SCEA/RD)
Additional Information:
A big part of my application was the explanation for my low GPA. In the first 3 years of highschool I received Cs in my math and science classes and struggled a lot, in the application I took responsibility for what happened but also explained why my GPA was the way it was. All through highschool my grades were on an upward trend and they increased exponentially in the first semester of senior year. I also spoke about this in interviews and my rec letters mentioned it so I believe this was fully explained.

Final Thoughts:
I came into this process convinced that Smith College was the perfect place for me, so of course I was disappointed. However, I was more disappointed by what happened with Mount Holyoke. When I was rejected, I noticed that the college had made the decision (ED2) without waiting for my senior year grades to come in. In my letter they stated that they liked me a lot but wanted to make sure I was prepared so they wanted me to transfer after receiving strong grades at another institution. I am confident that if they had seen my senior year grades my result there would have been different, especially after receiving acceptances from so many more selective schools. Overall, I am very happy with my results. I do not know where I will end up attending as I have yet to visit, but I am very grateful for all the options I have to choose from. If I get into Bryn Mawr, I'll probably go there but I would like to visit all my options first. I hope everyone reading this has great luck!
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2023.03.29 03:55 Purtle [PIL] #893 3/28/2023

Purtle's Internet Lineup for March 28th, 2023 9:56pm
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2023.03.29 03:25 Technical-Study-5152 7 Farms Down 🚜 Triangle kush 3000 22.2% thc 3.67% terp

7 Farms Down 🚜 Triangle kush 3000 22.2% thc 3.67% terp submitted by Technical-Study-5152 to TheOCS [link] [comments]

2023.03.29 03:19 StyleKorean_Official 🌿Skin2004 & ✨Axis-Y Special Set Offer🌟

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2023.03.29 03:05 ackza New banner! HUICHOL PEYOTE STITCH ART, if you know, youve seen it IRL

Ive seen these huichol patterns before , its pretty cool, they have this art at the SAN DIEGO ZOO, balboa park is where i used to not only get teh cactus but watch imax 3d movies and walk outside to see telescope astronomy meetups, i got to be on mescaline while i watched saturn and the moonm through a telescope lol i was lucky.
san diego is really a wonderful place to trip
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2023.03.29 02:54 kolbisneat Adventures in Neverland (Campaign Diary/Resource 24)

I'm running a TTRPG adventure set in the Neverland setting that I wrote (Neverland: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting, Andrews McMeel Publishing)! This is a quick recap of what the players get up to in case someone wants to see how another GM uses the material. It's a hexcrawl setting focused on player-driven choices in a world full of pirates, fairies, mermaids, and more!
Also there's now a NEVERLAND DISCORD SERVER! Here's the invite!
- - - Note there will be spoilers for the setting/characters/etc. - - -
I'm running this for a group of 5 using D&D 5E. Currently level 9.
Druid (Fairy), Warlock (Tiefling), Bard/Pirate (Human), Monk (Tabaxi), Rogue (Human)
The Party started off looking for fallen stars but are now knee-deep in Fairy politics. The group has upset the Queen and are trying to stave off the curse from an assassin's blade.
(ELPHAME REGION 16 - Fairy Market / Goblin Market)
(ELPHAME REGION 13 - Brownie Huts)
(ELPHAME REGION 01 - Garden Gates)
(ELPHAME REGION 01 - Garden Gates)
(HEX 06 - The Great Hill)
(HEX 06 - The Great Hill)
(HEX 14 - Gnome Hamlet)
(HEX 04 - The Coral Caves)
(HEX 04 - The Coral Caves)
I'd been wanting to get the group back to Neverland as it had been a while since they left Elphame. The Queen's escalating efforts did the trick. And who knew that buying a few magic items was all the party needed to shift their focus from "forward the plot!" to "make money!" Super interesting to see and I'm always surprised to see what they do next.
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2023.03.29 02:52 stfurtfm Replacement for JetBoil Mini-Mo Burner?

A friend borrowed my JetBoil Mini-Mo this winter to make hot chocolate for the kids after a cold skating session and set the JetBoil pot on top of the burner without the pot support in place, which melted the plastic on the burner, rendering it un-usable.
JetBoil quoted me $75CDN + $20CDN shipping for a new burner, so here I am looking for a potential replacement that I can still use my JetBoil ceramic pot, skillet, and Mini-Mo pot with.
I'll be using it exclusively for boiling water for morning coffee/hot chocolate while car camping.
What are my options? I read Soto Windmaster is a good stove.
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2023.03.29 02:34 Unique_Iron3918 AITA for giving a nurse practitioner flowers?

I (M18) recently got accepted into a highly selective BS/MD program. Throughout high school, I shadowed a nurse practitioner (F26) at my local hospital who helped develop my interest in medicine and connect me to so many opportunities that helped me achieve this college acceptance. Obviously, I am very grateful to her and wanted to thank her.
After school, I asked my girlfriend’s (F18) dad who usually drops my girlfriend and I off at the library to make a stop at this fancy local flower shop and the hospital first.
I picked up my custom bouquet (I ordered online earlier) for the nurse and gave them to her at the hospital. My girlfriend was really snarky as soon as I brought the flowers into the car, she kept asking who they were for and why I needed to get “such expensive ones.”
Once we were at the library, she blew up at me and started crying because I got such fancy flowers for the nurse. I asked her to stop acting childish over a literal bouquet of flowers. AITA?
EDIT: context from a comment- “I have gotten my girlfriend regular flowers for her birthday before though. She never gets me flowers though even though I have asked.”
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2023.03.29 02:22 Trash_Tia I’ve been talking to the boy next door through my window for a while. Update: The thing is… I don’t think he’s alive?

The boy next door is no longer an enigma.
No longer a mystery.
For the last few days, I have been laying low after Mrs Wilder kidnapped and threatened me in my own home. I’ve had barely any sleep and my lack of it has definitely disrupted my ability to write. I’m sorry if this update is messy or full of typos. I just don’t know what to do.
I’ve been a mess. I’ve been jumping at every movement. Every time there’s a knock on the door I feel part of myself splinter into pieces I can’t put back together. I did something crazy stupid two days ago. And that stupid mistake has fully exposed me to Mrs Wilder’s secret. What she is hiding behind her walls—and just how fucked I truly am if I disobey her again. Like I said, over the last several days I have been keeping my head down.
I went to school and did my homework and went to bed. That was it. When mom asked if I was talking to any Wilder kids, I shook my head. I had quickly grown afraid of Casper Wilder’s window. I knew something was wrong with him.
Something is wrong with his head.
He had told me. At least, the part of him which was bleeding between consciousness and a submissive state not being controlled by his psychotic mother. I saw him. I saw who he really was. I saw the boy next door crying out to me for help through bloodied fingers and cryptic messages splattered in scarlet. If he had intentionally hurt himself to get messages across to me, there was something he was fighting.
Mrs Wilder’s words were haunting me. The paper-doll rendition of me, blackened and smouldering orange between her nimble fingers-- I couldn’t get it out of my head.
So, I grabbed all the paper I could find and taped up my window, blocking him out. It sounds ridiculous. And it was. Because once I had spent over an hour feverishly taping pieces of paper over my window, I tore them down with a knot in my gut. When I clawed away the last piece of paper, I got a glimpse of Casper. His curtains were open, allowing me to see inside his room once more.
I saw a normal guy’s bedroom once again, guitars leaning against the walls, clothes strewn over the floor and sketchpads littering the bed. Warm light illuminated the window, and I wished what I was seeing was normal.
I wished I had seen nothing bad, and this was just the boy next door.
My completely normal neighbor.
But I couldn’t deny what I’d seen two nights ago. Casper Wilder wasn’t standing at his window with a twisted expression, a cocktail of pain and anger and confusion burning in mismatched eyes I was sure glinted with something metallic. Something man-made—which had been inserted, no, forced inside him.
I expected him to be awake. Even if it was just a single look in his eye which told me he was still there—still holding on. No. It was like nothing had ever happened. The window had been cleaned of blood, and there were no traces of the boy who had cried out for help. In his place was the Wilder son I had found friendship with. Before he cracked, and something inside him, something buried deep, deep, down, ignited. I missed that version of him. Who he used to be.
Because this guy was not Casper Wilder. I didn’t know who he was—and neither did he from the way he’d reacted days before. Underneath this name being forced onto him, there was nothing.
Just a broken kid with no name. No memory, except ones filled with her. I missed the personality Mrs Wilder was trying to hide. Who had told me she wasn’t his fucking mother, and sworn at me, his writing erratic and confusing, clawing into his head with this desperation to be let go.
Seeing him through the window at that moment, I realised, a sickly paste crawling up my throat, that all of that had been erased. He had returned to default. Casper was sitting on his bed playing guitar with a look of content, bed hair falling in sleepy eyes. He was wearing his glasses this time. His fingers moved up and down, feet bouncing to a beat I couldn’t hear.
Stumbling back, I tripped over my backpack with a shriek, which caught Casper’s attention.
When his head twisted around, empty eyes floating towards the window, I ducked. I couldn’t stop myself. After counting to ten, I slowly lifted my gaze.
He was still staring at me, and I noticed he’d stopped playing the guitar, fingers entangled in the strings. Casper’s smile had dimmed slightly. I wondered if seeing me brought something back. Maybe he remembered writing his own bloody messages on the window and trying and failing to speak through his mother’s control. The boy blinked at me before slowly getting to his feet. I didn’t see the chord thing this time. Casper strode over to the window, a giddy smile curling on the edges of his lips.
He pressed his palm against the glass, and I was already grabbing my notepad and a pen. But then his mother’s words sliced through my thoughts. I was back inside my lounge, foggy headed, the stink of pool cleaner still thick at the back of my nose and throat.
Mrs Wilder loomed over me, my paper-doll she had ravaged sticking from the doll-house on mom’s coffee table constructed from our letters. “I hope you understand that if you talk to, or even breathe the same air as my children again, I will rip you apart too.”
Her breath was heavy in my face. I couldn’t help looking at Mrs Becker for help, but her eyes were equally as cruel. I watched perfectly manicured nails pick up one of the four Wilder dolls, making it dance around in circles.
“Do you understand me, Phoebe?”
“Yes.” I said, my words twisted on my tongue.
“I… I understand.”
The memory was painful enough to feel physical knives digging into my gut. Mrs Wilder had made it clear that if I pursued her children, she was going to hurt me. Mom, too. I dropped my notepad and pen. Casper was still smiling at me. His eyes were vacant. He had no idea who I was after months of us talking. Mrs Wilder had taken all of it away. Including him breaking apart and waking up as a confused shell with no name. “Hello.” Casper’s lips mouthed the words, and I took several steps back, my heart in my throat.
He didn’t even blink. I watched his expression fail to flicker and wondered just how the fuck had I never noticed there was something wrong with him in the months I knew him. I watched him search his desk for a notepad and pen. Maybe seeing me was unravelling something inside him, I thought. Maybe I could try and wake him up again. At the back of my mind, however, I could still see my little paper doll’s head being torn off, its body ripped apart.
“What’s your name?” Casper had written in bubble writing. It’s like everything had been reset. His frenzied and wild eyes, that desperation to escape. Gone.
His handwriting was boiling my blood. Just looking at this perfect calligraphy which wasn’t even his. It had been forced onto him. Because Mrs Wilder expected this boy to be the perfect son, a creative prodigy like his siblings. I looked for a splinter in his eyes, just a glimpse that he was still in there. Still fighting whatever his ‘mother’ had done to him. But I saw nothing. I saw a blank fucking slate.
“Phoebe.” I mouthed.
Inclining his head, he scribbled a follow up message. “Can you write it down?”
Swallowing a lump in my throat, I shut my curtains, blocking him and his message out. Then I jumped into bed, turned off my light, and dreamed I was that paper-doll with no mouth to scream with, as Mrs Wilder slowly tore me limb from limb. The next day felt like a blur. I don’t think I snapped out of it until mom poked me with the prongs of her fork, tearing me from a scenario I was going over in my head.
If Casper was a prisoner, were his siblings too? I’d only caught a glimpse of Issac and Freddie Wilder. Mrs Wilder talked of being pregnant with four children. But she spoke like she had lost them. So, my guess was that she had kidnapped four teenager’s in their place—and was raising them as her dead children. “Are you okay, honey?”
Mom’s voice slid through my thoughts, and I realised I had been pushing my pasta around my plate. I wasn’t really hungry.
Mom had made this sort of red pepper spaghetti, but every time I tried to take a mouthful, I was seeing spatters of scarlet running from Casper’s temples, dripping down his face and smudged on the glass of his window. THUD. The image of him slamming his head into the pane, wild eyes and twisted lips, an agonising panic bringing him to the edge of hysteria caught me off guard, and my fork slipped through my fingers, tomato sauce slowly creeping its way back up my throat.
Fuck. I couldn’t forget about him. I couldn’t leave him and block him out after his mother had threatened me. Because if I didn’t help him, who would? It was my word against the town.
Mom cleared her throat
“Phoebe, are you listening to me?”
“I said, have you been abiding by the rules?” Mom twirled pasta around her fork and took a dainty bite. Since joining Mrs Becker’s book club I had noticed a certain gleam in her eye. Like she was looking through me. “You haven’t been talking to the Wilder children, have you?”
After three mouthfuls of spaghetti, I ended up with half of my dinner dripping down my face.
Mom grabbed a napkin, handing it to me. “Clean yourself up. You are seventeen, not seven.” Her expression softened. “Sweetie, are you okay?”
“Yes.” I said, struggling to appear it. I knew she could see my sleep circles.
“Have you been talking to the Wilder kids? I’ll know if you have.”
Technically, I had been communicating with him. But it was one-sided.
Still though, paranoia turned my thoughts against me. Shovelling down spaghetti, I spoke through a mouthful. “No.”
She handed me another napkin. “So, if I talk to Mrs Wilder…”
“Mom.” I grabbed her hand, squeezing it for dear life. Mrs Wilder knew, I thought dizzily. She must have known Casper’s attempt to talk to me, even if he was exactly who she wanted him to be. Still under her demented control. But it was confusing me just how she had that control. This wasn’t a movie or a TV show.
Mind control didn’t exist, right? And if it did, it was barely even a thing—induced by cocktails of drugs and torture. Casper didn’t look like he’d been tortured.
Except that thing inside his head… my thoughts grew foggy, and I was suddenly overcome with emotion. What I meant to tell her was all about what I had seen, and what Mrs Wilder had done to me. Though knowing what the woman was capable of, and thinking about that chord-like thing which surely had been forced into the back of Casper Wilder’s skull… “Can we just…move?” I choked out. “I want to move. I hate it here.” I gestured around.
“I hate this house. It’s too big, I feel like I’m lost every time I go upstairs. I hate school. The kids there freak me out.” Holding her gaze, I curled my lip. “And I hate our stupid neighbors.”
“Phoebe.” Mom’s tone darkened. “What did I tell you about being respectful?”
“It’s not like they can hear us!” I spat. “Did they fit cameras in here, mom? I wouldn’t be surprised! We’re under draconian rules!”
“Young lady, you are acting like a child.” She said stiffly. “Take several deep breaths and tell me what is wrong.”
“I’m fine.” I whispered.
“No, you are not.” Mom sipped red wine. “I know when there is something wrong with my daughter, and you cannot look me in the eye.”
I took a sharp breath and forced myself to stay calm. “Mom.” I sputtered through a sob. “It’s Mrs Wilder. She… she did something to me.”
Mom’s expression twisted. “What?”
“The other night,” I forced out. The images were flooding my head. Smouldering orange tearing its way through paper white. “She knocked me out, and she had this… dollhouse. And four paper dolls.”
I heaved out a breath. “She threatened me, mom. Mrs Wilder threatened me, and I need you to believe me.” I grabbed for her hand again, my own trembling. “Casper Wilder is not her son.” I said. The words felt foreign on my tongue. Wrong. They felt like a time bomb. “I think she kidnapped him. All of them. And she’s brainwashed them into thinking they’re her real kids.” There was a pause, and my mom’s expression didn’t change. So, I continued. “We need to call the police.” I reiterated. “Okay? You’re listening to me, aren’t you?” I swallowed sobs wracking my chest. “Because… you’re my mom. And you’re supposed to believe me.”
She surprised me with an eye-roll. “You are being ridiculous.”
It felt like the walls were suddenly closing in. I could smell the stink of pool cleaner and Mrs Wilder’s perfume intoxicating my senses.
I was seeing Casper slamming his head into his window once again, his eyes alive with a light I couldn’t understand. Like something was entwined inside his pupil.
“Help me.”
God, it wouldn’t stop.
His voice. It was driving me crazy.
“I don’t know who I am.” Casper’s sobs echoed. “I don’t… I don’t fucking know who I am! I can’t remember… I can’t remember who I am!”
I could see his words clear in my mind, red scrawled against white until they were barely readable.
I was going to be sick.
“Mom,” The words were choking from my mouth before I could stop them. I didn’t mean to sound so childlike, but that is exactly what I felt like. A child. I was alone. Drowning.
Looking at my mother’s curled lips, her eyes burning right through me, I felt myself start to come apart.
Like that stupid doll.
“Mom, please—”
She cut me off with a snort. “What? Is this because you're not allowed to talk to the boy next door? You’re creating your own narrative, and it’s… endearing. Childlike, but you are a child after all." Mom chuckled. “Sweetie, I know you love your mysteries, and sure, I can understand the cliché Romeo and Juliet thing going on, but really, there are plenty more fish in the sea. You don’t have to make up ridiculous scenarios.”
I let go of her hand, my toes curling. They didn’t sound like her words. They were someone else’s.
What was she talking about, ridiculous scenarios? Did my mother really think I was capable of imagining all of this shit?
I couldn’t reply. Not when part of me wondered if these were even her words. I had a strong suspicion my mom was just a puppet.
Like someone was talking through her.
“Do you like him?” Mom pressed. In her eyes, I could see Mrs Wilder was asking that question. “Is that why you’re being so… “ She trailed off with a sigh, and I glimpsed her fingers tighten around her wine glass, pressing enough pressure to leave marks on the rim. “Difficult?”
Mom’s lips splintered into a grin which wasn’t hers, and something inside me snapped. She was joking around.
When Casper was suffering, a prisoner of his own mind, my mother was treating me like I was fucking love-sick.
"No!" I shook my head. “No, I want to move.” I whispered. “I want to go back to our old house.”
“That’s not going to happen, sweetie. You know I can’t just leave my job. Phoebe, you’re a senior at school. You have SAT’S.”
Her expression softened. “You’ll grow to like it. Don’t worry.” She said, before standing up and carrying our plates to the faucet. “I have a late shift tonight, so I expect your best behaviour.” I barely felt mom press a kiss to my forehead.
Her presence felt strange, like I wasn’t even seeing my mother. After what she said, I was sure her words were being pupiteered. When mom went to work, after yelling that there were leftovers on the counter, I was left with the soundtrack of a stupid dripping tap, and our humming refrigerator. I made several promises to myself in the time I was in the kitchen.
I would save Casper and his siblings, and then I’d force mom to drive all of us out of town. There were logistics I didn’t want to think about. These were feverish thoughts which controlled me. I had to get them out of that house. Time seemed to go by slowly. When I lifted my head from where I’d been staring at leftover meatballs I dropped onto the table, my phone vibrated in my jeans. Pulling it out, there was a DM regarding my post I wrote on here.
I read it. Then I read it again and again until I could process it.
“Film it. Literally get evidence of what is going on with Casper. You need people to believe you. And if people are going to believe you, you need to make a scene. If you want that house stormed, make as much noise as possible. I know it sounds stupid, but think about it like this. All you need is attention. Mrs Wilder can’t hide from the world if you show the world what’s going on. Good luck, Phoebe. Please be safe.”
-- A friend.
I was shaking when I knocked on the Wilder’s door fifteen minutes later. I knew exactly how to cause a scene.
Mrs Wilder answered, her expression cross between frustrated and bewildered. But I could barely focus on her, or the fact that she was holding a ladle like a weapon. The second the door opened revealing Casper’s mom drowning in a homely golden light, something slammed into me. Nothing physical, though it might as well have been. I forced myself to breathe through the stink which hit me like a brick to the face, suffocating my nose and mouth. Lavender. Not just lavender. The expensive flowers mom would get grocery shopping.
The ones which made me sneeze when I leaned too close. The house stunk of flowers—and that was just from standing on the threshold. But I knew better. I knew, once sweet smelling salts and flowers entwined in my senses, that the stink was to cover something up. And the more I edged closer over the threshold, the true smell of the Wilder house began to snake into my nose. Rot. I had once left a donut under my bed as a kid as an experiment to see if I could grow a whole new species. But this wasn’t mouldy food. It was far more potent. More like a decaying animal.
“Phoebe!” Mrs Wilder folded her arms across her apron. “I’m sorry, were my instructions not clear?” She cocked her head, an amused smile curving on her lips. She was triumphant, knowing exactly how to get under my skin. “Are you aware of what a restraining order is?”
Ignoring the smell choking the air, I held up my phone. “I’m live on Instagram.” I said. “Can I come in?”
I’m not sure why, but seeing her cheeks turn white made me feel like I was the one in control. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Live.” I repeated with a cheery wave. “On Instagram.”
I expected her to shove me back, or call out my bluff (yes, I was bluffing). Instead though, the women’s resolve seemed to crumble, her expression twisting, fear igniting in her eyes. She stammered for a moment, her gaze flashing to my phone before she wrapped her arms around herself and seemed to force a nod. “This is my house.” Her voice came out in a hiss.
Mrs Wilder was talking straight to the camera, and clearly faking terror. “Phoebe Daly, this is far past your usual games. This is… this is trespassing! Do you hear me? I’m calling the police!” Mrs Wilder didn’t call the police.
She held her phone to her ear but didn’t dare dial a number. I could see her options flitting across her eyes.
Was she going to attack me, or play it cool? Playing it cool, it was. With a face like thunder, she stumbled aside when I took a step forward and asked to be let inside. I wasn’t live on Instagram. I had barely 10 followers.
But she didn’t know that. Instead of being live, I was filming everything with my normal phone camera, angled at a height so she couldn’t slap it out of my hands. Watching her stumble back, panic twisting her expression into fury and frustration filled me with satisfaction. I had her. The crazy witch really thought I was streaming. I used that to my advantage, making sure to commentate to my imaginary audience as she led me down the main hallway, and I made sure to point the camera at everything I could see. Kids photographs covered neat paintwork.
But they were all different young children taken from a distance. Towards the end of the hall, what I saw did send my heart into my gut. And for a moment—just a brief second—I actually felt sympathy for Casper’s mom.
Four ultrasound’s.
I didn’t let the camera linger on them, instead going to the woman herself, who was following me, trying and failing to stall my effort to delve further inside the house. She stepped in front of me with a huff. “Phoebe. That is enough! You have terrorised me to no end!” her voice rose into a whine. “Whoever you are, Phoebe’s friends! This brat is targeting my children!”
“Casper!” I yelled, ignoring her. “Are you there?”
No answer.
My heart dropped into my gut, though I wasn’t giving up. I had the advantage, and I had to play to it.
I ran up the first few steps leading upstairs, but Mrs Wilder seemed far too focused on shielding the door at the end of the hall.
“What’s in the kitchen?” I asked with a lump in my throat. Backing down the stairs, I made my way towards her.
“Nothing is in the kitchen!” she spat back, feigning innocence. “We’re having dinner if you must know. And you are ruining it!”
I shook my head. “This is Mrs Wilder,” I announced, pointing the phone at her. “She is holding four teenagers against their will and claiming them as her own children.” I said smoothly. When we reached a sliding glass door leading into the kitchen, I grabbed the handle with force.
Her rough hand slammed over mine, claw-like fingernails slicing my flesh. “Get out of my house,” she said stiffly. “Young lady, you are trespassing on my property.” Every word came out in globules of saliva hitting me in the face. “I have never met such a disruptive and outright disrespectful child without discipline. Your mother should be ashamed of herself.” She shot a nervous look at my phone camera.
“Where’s Mrs Becker?” I asked.
Mrs Becker.” I repeated. “She helped you kidnap and scare me into staying quiet the other day. So, where is she?”
She spluttered, clearly caught off guard. “You are delusional!”
“Then show me them.” I said, pointing the camera at the door. “Your children, Mrs Wilder. I want you to show me Issac, Matilda, Freddie, and…” I swallowed hard. “And Casper.” Ignoring her steel grasp on the door handle, I pulled it open, trying to ignore the sudden squawking noise which had escaped her mouth, slamming into my ears. I can’t describe it. Mom has spoken about a mother instinct, and I wonder if it truly was that. This was animalistic. Feral.
Immediately, Mrs Wilder was behind me like a beast, her trembling arms trying to grasp hold of me and drag me back violently. But I was stronger, and desperate. I had to know the Wilder's secret. Stepping over the threshold, I was first aware of a far dimmer light. And when I fully focused on the room, I realised I was seeing candlelight. In front of me was a hardwood dining room table, and five chairs—four of which were occupied. The kitchen was a copy of our own. Except ours had always been lit up and bright.
It felt more like I was stepping inside a cave. An orangeade blur illuminated each face. Three out of four bodies sat stiff, almost… doll like. Mechanical. The way the three were facing me. Their expressions matched perfectly. Wide eyes and wider grins splitting lips apart. I drank each Wilder kid in slowly, as my brain struggled to take in the real horror of the room. What I was failing to fully take in. I couldn’t. I don’t think I could physically understand what I was seeing. I was aware my phone had slipped from my fingers, that I was paralysed to the spot.
The smell of stink and rot, I thought.
It was them.
I couldn’t move. There were three boys, and one girl. Matilda Wilder was a mousey redhead while her brothers were all brunettes. She wore a purple dress which fit her perfectly, her hair tied into pigtails with red ribbons. Issac and Freddie Wilder sat shoulder to shoulder.
They were the twins, I thought dizzily. They were identical twins in Mrs Wilder’s eyes, but these guys looked nothing like each other—one of them sporting a handsome face and razor jawline, while the other had an odd looking nose and jutting chin. Still though, I could tell Mrs Wilder had made an effort to make them look… beautiful. Perfect. I could see her attempt at stitching their lips together.
It wasn’t their appearance that was gluing me to the ground, however. Because looking closer, past the made-up faces on both the boys and the girls, the ribbons and fancy clothes and empty eyes staring right through me, soft candlelight was slowly bringing them to life in front of me. These kids had been hidden away for so long, and I was finally seeing them for who they were. My gaze flicked to each of them. I was seeing… stitches. I was seeing rugged stitches and gashes in their flesh, patchwork skin making up fingers and elbows and cheeks. They had been taken apart over and over again and put back together.
Matilda’s neck was a collage of flesh, rugged markings where a marker pen had clumsily sliced into her skin and pieced her like a jigsaw through mangled body parts and anything left over. Freddie and Isaac’s heads were cocked at an angle, and looking closer I glimpsed the bad stitch-job which had knitted them together.
I could see it in all of them. None of these kids were their original selves. They reminded me of dolls built through old doll pieces. I didn’t know I was screaming until the gravity of the situation hit me, and I realised I was suffocating on dead skin which made them up, their bodies stitched and knitted together, transforming them into her ideal children. Flickering candlelight revealed the last Wilder kid.
There were two significant things which were different about Casper.
The first, was that he must have been her most recent. He was her most… original—and the second? Unlike the others, he was awake.
Until that moment, Casper had been sitting amongst his siblings, head cocked to the side like the others, catatonic.
His dazed eyes slowly found mine—and I glimpsed recognition flickering in his expression, his rigid body starting to contort back to life. He was her paper-doll.
But Casper wasn’t finished.
“Phoebe?” When the boy spoke, his voice was barely a whimper. Frenzied eyes flicked from Matilda to Issac and Freddie, all of which were still wearing their perfect smiles. I noticed the rugged skin of his neck, and my heart sank.
Something was moving behind him, and I forced myself to step forwards. I glimpsed that same chord-like thing. This time it was fully attacked to him. No, it was buried directly inside his head. A sour paste crept up my throat when I saw the carnivorous hole burrowing deeper inside his head. I could glimpse the intense white of chipped skull and a strange looking fluid leaking out —but it looked… wrong. I’ve always imagined the internals of someone’s brain to be pinkish grey. Though what I was seeing was more like a black ooze sliding down the back of his neck. It reminded me of squid-ink. Definitely not blood.
It looked like he had been shot in the head, or had been pulled out of the operating theatre mid-surgery. And somehow, he was still alive. Just like the description, the chord-thing seemed to be attached in two places—to the back of the head, directly on the brain, and stapled to his spine. The device was humming, but I don’t think it was working.
Casper was looking directly at me, and the way his body was angled was different to his siblings. Instead of sitting straight, he was trying and failing to jump to his feet, his eyes wide, almost unseeing. I could see that frustration and anger, that pain from the other night alive in his face. I opened my mouth to speak, though Casper was already lifting a trembling hand, his fingers twining around the chord and giving a pathetic tug. A thin line of dark red, almost black, slid from his nostril.
I knew it was him. “Can you… can you get… it… out?” His hand found the chord again, and his grasp slipped. “Please.” He whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. “There’s something… in my… my head, and I need you to… I need you to fucking get it out…. right now.”
“Casper.” I couldn’t resist a relieved hiss. “This woman.” I twisted and pointed at Mrs Wilder.
“Who is she to you?”
The kid blinked, his eyes narrowing. He jolted, twisting around to try and see the thing attached to him. “Why would I know her? Get this shit out of my head!”
He let out a hysterical yell. His cry was more of a demand, and that nameless boy underneath splintered doll pieces began to unravel.
“Get it out.” He kept repeating. “Fucking get it out! There’s something inside my head!”
I nodded, choking back a cry.
He slammed his hands down, but seemingly couldn’t move from the chair. “What the fuck.” He side eyed the others. “What the fuck is this?”
I struggled to answer without screaming myself. “Stuff.” I managed to get out through a sputter. “Can you stand up?”
“What?” He blinked rapidly at me, I was seeing it again. That odd light flickering in his pupils.
“No. I can’t move!”
The humming grew louder, and at the corner of my eye, that thing seemed to dig deeper inside his head.
More blood spurted from his nose, and I could tell that he was fighting it.
The boy’s eyes found mine, his words tangling into an almost slur. “Get it out! I can’t… I can’t fucking think straight. I…. I….”
His eyes rolled back for a moment before he shook his head, lunging against the chair. His head twitched. “I don’t know I am.”
I couldn’t move. Watching this thing take control in real time, it was both fascinating and horrifying, sending my knees buckling.
“Who… who am I?”
His whole head twitched, like he was glitching.
“I know her. I… I know her. I’m her… I’m her son… I’m her s—son.”
Casper hummed, his twitching lips pricking into a demented smile. “I’ll always know her. She’s the one who… who s---saved me.”
Choking on a shade too vivid and dark to be blood, he sputtered, his head drooping.
“Mom?” Casper spoke through mouthfuls of pooling black. He lifted his head, unseeing eyes blinking in dim candlelight. The chord-like thing sounded more like it was drilling into his brain, and I knew I was fucked when his lips spread out into a childlike smile, and he swayed to the left and then the right, the light in his eyes burning. “There’s… water.” He whispered. “So… so cold. I’m so cold.” His voice broke.
“I don’t… want to be cold.”
“You won’t be cold.” Mrs Wilder’s voice was a sharp cry behind me. “Ever again. Your mom is here.”
“Promise? You n… need to… prom…promise me.” His teeth chattered. “You need to… tell me… I won’t… be cold. That my mom… is coming.”
“I promise, darling.”
“No,” I swallowed back frustrated tears. “Casper, she’s not your mother!”
His next words split into a guttural screech which almost sent him toppling off of the chair. He grabbed at his head, clawing at face.
But the more he was tugging, the machine fought against him. I could see metallic clamp-like legs stubbornly holding on.
His next words were mangled between cries from his conscious self, and whatever the fuck his ‘mother’ was forcing into his head.
And yet it barely grazed my ears. I was trying to figure out how to get that monumental THING out of his brain. There was no way I could just pull it out. That could kill him, right?
I started forwards to grab him, to try and pry the clamp off his spine, before I was being smothered with the stink of rich lavender. I hadn’t noticed Mrs Wilder swipe up my phone. She was holding it up in the air. “Live? You were never filming anything, you stupid girl! Do you understand what you have done?” She laughed—and I mean cackled like a witch. “I warned you, didn’t I?”
I got one last glimpse of Casper. His whole body was jerking under the chord inside his head, but he wasn’t crying out anymore.
Before I knew what was happening, I was being dragged back, and in front of me a Wilder boy shoving his struggling brother back into the chair. I didn’t have time to cry out.
With strength I had no idea the crazy bitch had, I was being violently yanked by my hair. And while I was flailing, I saw the ultrasound’s once again. Looking closer though, each one had a different name. A different mother. My head spun. That couldn’t be right. Mrs Wilder told me she was pregnant with four children, so who’s ultrasound’s were these? And why had she framed them? I didn’t have time to check it out.
I was dumped on my ass and the door was slammed straight in my face. I tried to get back in, throwing my fists into the door, until my own mother’s arms were pulling me back. I was hysterical. I couldn’t breathe, and mom wasn’t getting through to me. I’d kicked and thrown myself into the door, attracting the attention of our neighbours. That’s what I wanted. I wanted one of them to call the police, and when I picked up a brick, struggling against mom’s attempt to restrain me, and throwing it through the Wilder’s front window, I finally got it.
Two cops arrived, and I was so relieved I almost sobbed into one officer's chest. While my mom was trying and failing to explain my “breakdown” I begged them to take a look inside. And I was loud. I was screaming.
Which they couldn’t ignore.
“Phoebe!” I was partially aware of mom’s voice trying to calm me down, but I all I could see was that thing in Casper’s head, and his siblings made from knitted flesh. When the officer’s exited the Wilder’s house after five painful minutes waiting, I stumbled over to the two.
“Well?” I demanded, shoving away my mom. “Did you see them?” I yelled. “She’s turned them into… into dolls!” I was already going on a tangent, hysteria plunging me further into my own insanity.
“They’re not her children.” I gritted out. “She kidnapped and.. and stitched them up like… like Frankenstein! Mrs Wilder likes dolls! She had this paper-doll of me when she kidnapped me and lit it on fire to threaten me because I was talking to Casper. And he… he’s one of them, and not even her son! She’s controlling his mind with this thing stuck inside—"
“That’s enough!” Mom snapped.
The officer in front of me chuckled. “Breathe, kid!” He said. “Jeez. You’re not even giving us time to talk.”
Instead of speaking to me directly, the officer turned to mom. “There’s nothing out of the ordinary, ma’am.” He said. “The Wilder’s were enjoying a family dinner, and…” his gaze flashed to me. “Well. It appears someone ruined it. There are no current reports of child abduction.”
I couldn’t resist a laugh. “Are you serious? Did you not… did you not see—”
He cut me off. “There they are!” He chuckled. “The Wilder siblings!” The officer saluted the four of them who had wandered outside trailing their mother. Ignoring the other three, I made my way over to Casper. But he looked… I don’t know, he looked like he usually did through his window? There were no stitches or patchwork skin. He was wearing a beanie, and I reached to yank it off, when his hand caught mine.
He was freezing cold.
His skin felt almost slimy, like I was touching the skin of a dead fish. I wanted to hold on, to force the cops to believe me, but he was already speaking—his voice was different, a lot deeper than the hysterical cry of the boy underneath. “Mom?” Casper’s eyes were cold. He shoved my hand away before taking a shaky step back. Like I was crazy. He quickly joined his siblings.
“Who is this girl?”
“We’re going home.” Mom said, grasping my arm. “Can’t you see you’ve embarrassed me enough?”
“Phoebe, huh?”
I turned to find the other Wilder kids. The guy with the jawline still had that doll-like smile. “Please leave our brother alone.”
I couldn’t resist spitting at him. “He’s not your brother. You’re brainwashed.”
Something in his expression seemed to twitch suddenly. Mom tried to pull me back, but I stubbornly stayed where I was.
Issac or Freddie cocked his head. “Brain... washed?"
He started to speak, before Mrs Wilder ushered them all away. But I did notice him turn back to frown at me.
Needless to say, I was grounded—and threatened with a restraining order.
That didn’t stop me peeking through the gap in Casper’s curtains that night. I caught him stumbling around, struggling to get the chord-thing out of his head with manic hands. He came over to the window several times, his bloody hands slamming into the window before slipping away. I'm not sure, but I don't think he knew why his legs kept drawing him to the window.
Mrs Wilder joined him soon after, forcing him to bite into something plastic, as she led him to sit on the bed, her fingers wrapping around the chord, and yanking it out. I didn't hear his scream, but his reaction to it, body writhing, eyes squeezing shut, I knew he could feel it. And part of him was awake. Just part of him.
Not the parts who knew our window sessions and his horrifying reality.
Casper came to his window all bandaged up. He didn’t hold up a message, and his eyes were vacant.
Though his expression told me everything I needed to know.
Engines woke me up several hours later. It was midnight. Sliding out of bed, my gaze went straight to Casper’s window. But it was dark. I pressed my face against my own window and glimpsed Mrs Wilder standing on her lawn in her robe.
A car pulled up, and the cop from earlier jumped out. In his arms was what looked like a body bag. He dropped it on the ground. “Freshly dead.” He said, when I opened my window to hear what was being said. “Car crash. Victim is male. Eighteen years old.” He folded his arms with a light laugh. “I got him straight from the morgue. His parents think there’s no body.” Both of them knelt next to the bag, and Mrs Wilder zipped it open with a hiss.
When the bag jolted suddenly, I realised the body was still alive.
The officer stumbled back. “Jesus. I didn’t even use that much. You said a single shot, right?”
Mrs Wilder pulled out a carving knife from her robe, and I felt my entire body turn to ice.
The cop raised a brow. “You came prepared.”
She sighed, her hands on her hips. “He’s spare parts. The expiry is approaching which is why they’re… acting out.”
With startling precision, she aimed the knife above what I guessed was the body’s head, before bringing it down with a sickening crunch. The bag stopped squirming.
I can’t remember anything else from that night.
My mother was gone the next morning. A paper doll replica of her was sitting next to a note and a plate of freshly baked cookies.
“Dearest, Phoebe.
I baked these thinking of you! And my, you should be grateful I have even bothered to do this after playing your games last night. Honestly, I am not the monster you think I am. Your mom asked me to let you know she will be busy with me for a few hours.
I’ve been asked to take care of you, so here are some chocolate cookies! Please maintain the rule I set in place and do not go near or talk to my children. I’m sure you know what will happen if you happen to slip up. I took the liberty of asking your mother to fit specialised devices in your room so I know when you are talking to my son. Writing equipment has been taken away. I hope we can be friends and I can start calling you my daughter. If something were to happen to your mom, do not worry. I will take you in. I want you to remember that.
Mrs Wilder.
PS: I can’t wait for you to (not) meet my newest son!
submitted by Trash_Tia to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]

2023.03.29 00:49 Yolkema welcome to Mother's Nature! this is going to be my first sim-owned business in my pleasantview save, which is owned by dina caliente (oomf built this for me, tysm <3)

welcome to Mother's Nature! this is going to be my first sim-owned business in my pleasantview save, which is owned by dina caliente (oomf built this for me, tysm <3) submitted by Yolkema to sims2 [link] [comments]

2023.03.29 00:42 dpkart Law enforcement seizing CBD shops in germany

For context, the parties that were elected recently have decided to legalize or at least decriminalize weed in general. Im not an expert in legal stuff but as far as I know the last hurdle is wether the EU actually supports the new law or if they reject it.
For some god damn reason the police has decided to shift into overdrive and bust as many farms and sellers, you know cause they still can. To me this seems like unnecessary dick swinging like they try to impress anyone. The best part is that they also started seizing CBD shops with hemp flowers that have below 0,2% THC and not more then 5% CBD. Those are strains that arent bred for consumption they are for making other hemp products im guessing fabrics. Today I was at the last shop in my area that still had any and they got seized aswell. Its so petty. They are making such an effort to do this although its already been decided to legalize. Now people like me who actually want to cut back on that oh so dangerous drug that the cops are trying to take from anone cant use CBD flower as a substitute. Im mad, I just wanted to vent.
submitted by dpkart to Petioles [link] [comments]

2023.03.29 00:27 criminal-noodle-420 can i buy a new hairstyle while also keeping my hat equipped

can i buy a new hairstyle while also keeping my hat equipped
i compares my equipped hat to a hairstyle. i want a new hairstyle but i don’t want to part with my hat.
submitted by criminal-noodle-420 to Wizard101 [link] [comments]

2023.03.29 00:04 Nightfix1125 Terrapin: Skywalker #3 and Coffee I Scream. Absolutely fantastic. The Mylar bags keep the buds much fresher. Especially since they add a boost pack to there bags still!! That's a bonus.

Terrapin: Skywalker #3 and Coffee I Scream. Absolutely fantastic. The Mylar bags keep the buds much fresher. Especially since they add a boost pack to there bags still!! That's a bonus.
Terrapin is on to the right track 100%. Time for them to dial in more on the perfection of strains and tastes now.
submitted by Nightfix1125 to PaMedicalMarijuana [link] [comments]

2023.03.29 00:00 allycat128 Small giveaway plus Redd!

Hosting a small storage clean-out giveaway!
DIYS, furniture, and gyroids Redd is here and shops are open! Fish and catch bugs too if you want (NH)
Don’t shake my trees or pick my flowers and veggies without asking please.
My island is pretty full so items are scattered pretty much all over😅 So feel free to explore :) If there’s anything you’re looking for in particular, I can craft it if I have the DIY! DM for Dodo
submitted by allycat128 to Dodocodes [link] [comments]

2023.03.28 23:40 Any-Government-3077 03/2023 Batch of Good Green Animal Face

03/2023 Batch of Good Green Animal Face submitted by Any-Government-3077 to TheRealPAMMJ [link] [comments]