Hammer’s attorney argued before the trial court that the jury should hear this evidence of prior false abuse allegations because (1) it was relevant to the alleged victim’s truthfulness, (2) it was permissible under the Confrontation Clause, and (3) it would show the girl’s motive of falsely accusing her father because he was trying to ... (1) A person commits the crime of sexual abuse in the first degree when that person: (a) Subjects another person to sexual contact and: (A) The victim is less than 14 years of age; (B) The victim is subjected to forcible compulsion by the actor; or (C) The victim is incapable of consent by reason of being mentally defective, mentally incapacitated or physically helpless; or On the Record attempts to reconcile with that painful truth, honing in on the experiences of Black women in the nascence of the hip-hop industry, and the impresario at the heart of it all, Def Jam ... The sexual activities may include all forms of oral-genital, genital, or anal contact by or to the child, or nontouching abuses, such as exhibitionism, voyeurism, or using the child in the production of pornography. 1 Sexual abuse includes a spectrum of activities ranging from rape to physically less intrusive sexual abuse. Intense scrutiny is being devoted these days to Pope Benedict XVI's history on the sex abuse crisis. Revelations from Germany have put his five years as a diocesan bishop under a spotlight, and a ... Setting the Record Straight on the Evidence of Prior Sexual Abuse - Part 2 ... Here is some background information on the consulted child sexual abuse experts who testified to JonBenet's prior abuse: Andrew P. Sirotnak, ... He co-authored a chapter on child sexual abuse in the textbook Berman's Pediatric Decision Making ... There are many ways to report child sexual abuse including child abuse hotlines. Reporting child sexual abuse, though, often starts with the act of disclosure on the part of the child and this disclosure must be handled carefully in order to facilitate the effective reporting of child sexual abuse. Little is known about how the dynamics of sexual abuse and disclosure are discussed in criminal court. We examined how attorneys ask child witnesses in sexual abuse cases (N = 72, 6 –16 years of age) about their prior conversations, both with suspects and with disclosure recipients.Prosecutors’ questions were more open-ended than defense attorneys, but most questions asked by either ... mony of a victim of a sexual offense to be presented at trial.1" The court must admit the videotape, and the victim need not be pre-sent in the courtroom when the evidence is introduced. 6 The use of this type of taped testimony has limited application in the pros-ecution of a sexual abuse case, however. The taping must be con- Justin Bieber has stepped up his rebuttal of new sexual-assault allegations by filing a $20-million defamation lawsuit against two Jane Does on Twitter who accused him of assault in 2014 and 2015 ...
2020.09.26 06:09 AdequateSizeAttache Hidden parents sex camera
[This post has been split into two parts because of selfpost character limits.]
Introduction It surprises me how often I see discussions involving speculation on whether JonBenet's UTIs, vaginitis, bedwetting, and history of frequent doctor visits indicate sexual abuse or not. These discussions invariably include people chiming in to share how they or someone they know had similar issues but were never abused. From these discussions, one could get the impression that itchy pageant costumes or Mr. Bubble useage are perfectly reasonable explanations for the evidence of sexual abuse.
The fact is, there's no need to speculate based on these things. There is physical evidence of prior sexual abuse. This is the evidence that should be at the forefront of discussions on the question of sexual abuse, not bubble baths or bedwetting. Issues such as vaginitis, UTIs, and bedwetting are not specific to sexual abuse; there are other possible explanations for them. There is no other possible explanation for the physical evidence besides trauma from physical penetration.
In reading discussions on the case over the years, it's always puzzled me how often the evidence of prior sexual abuse gets downplayed or dismissed. In considering why, I believe it is due primarily to these two common misconceptions:
Common Misconception 1 (as demonstrated above): The evidence of sexual abuse = vaginal irritation, UTIs, rashes, bedwetting, soiling, frequent doctor visits
Common Misconception 2: There is a medical debate on the issue and there's evidence to support both sides
Common Misconception 1 is a straw man argument — the actual evidence (the physical findings) is not being addressed or refuted.
Common Misconception 2 is an argument from false equivalence. An equal, rather than accurate, amount of weight is given to both sides of the issue. People see the mountain of conflicting information and contradicting opinions and think "It looks like expert opinion on this issue is divided; I guess a case can be made for either side." The enormous difference in expertise and experience between the various experts is ignored, as is the level of access they had to the evidence. This misconception gives the impression that all these expert opinions cancel each other out, rendering the issue debatable and open to interpretation. Consequently, the probative value of the evidence is undermined, making it easier for people to feel they can dismiss.
I think several factors have contributed to these two misconceptions:
"It is my understanding that this (vaginal inflammation) is not uncommon among children of that age," Korten said.Child abuse experts were asked to join the fray with their own reactions. In a February 20 article, the Daily Camera reported this quote from Dr. Joan Slook, pediatrician with the Baylor College of Medicine in Houston:
"Poor hygiene can cause chronic inflammation," Slook said. "Some little girls don't wash themselves properly." Improper wiping or washing in the vaginal area can introduce bacteria and produce inflammation, she said.In all this media commentary and premature speculation based on incomplete information, chronic inflammation became conflated with evidence of sexual abuse. Even after the full autopsy report was released and information about the evidence of prior abuse came out, Ramsey defense campaign representatives continued to respond to questions about prior sexual abuse with explanations involving poor wiping, bedwetting, and bubble baths. These sneaky answers did the trick — it convinced people who didn't know otherwise that the evidence was something it wasn't.
"Some little girls can have asymptomatic bladder infections that can cause irritation in the vagina," Slook said. "Chronic inflammation is a pretty non-specific thing to say," she said, adding that epithelial erosion also is vague.
Boulder Police would later ask several child sexual abuse experts to review the autopsy findings* in order to help them determine if there was evidence of prior sexual abuse. In addition to Andrew Sirotnak, these are the experts whom we know were consulted:
- Dr. Meyer also observed signs of chronic inflammation around the vaginal orifice and believed that these injuries had been inflicted in the days or weeks before the acute injury that was responsible for causing the bleeding at the time of her death. This irritation appeared consistent with prior sexual contact.
[Foreign Faction: Who Really Kidnapped JonBenet?, A. James Kolar, p. 58]
- Following the meeting, Dr. Meyer returned to the morgue with Dr. Andy Sirontak, Chief of Denver Children's Hospital Child Protection Team, so that a second opinion could be rendered on the injuries observed to the vaginal area of JonBenet. He would observe the same injuries that Dr. Meyer had noted during the autopsy protocol and concurred that a foreign object had been inserted into the opening of JonBenet's vaginal orifice and was responsible for the acute injury witnessed at the 7:00 o'clock position. Further inspection revealed that the hymen was shriveled and retracted, a sign that JonBenet had been subjected to some type of sexual contact prior to the date of her death. Dr. Sirontak could not provide an opinion as to how old those injuries were or how many times JonBenet may have been assaulted and would defer to the expert opinions of other medical examiners.
[Kolar, p. 61]
- Dr. Meyer was concerned about JonBenet's vaginal injuries, and he, along with Boulder investigators, sought the opinions of a variety of other physicians in the days following her autopsy. Dr. Sirontak, a pediatrician with Denver Children's Hospital, had recognized signs of prior sexual trauma but neither he nor Dr. Meyer were able to say with any degree of certainty what period of time may have been involved in the abuse.
[Kolar, p. 63]
In mid-September, a panel of pediatric experts from around the country reached one of the major conclusions of the investigation - that JonBenet had suffered vaginal trauma prior to the day she was killed.The experts expected to testify in court had the case gone to trial. As we know, there was no criminal trial, but we know the experts were called to testify before the grand jury.
There were no dissenting opinions among them on the issue, and they firmly rejected any possibility that the trauma to the hymen and chronic vaginal inflammation were caused by urination issues or masturbation. We gathered affidavits stating in clear language that there were injuries "consistent with prior trauma and sexual abuse"...."There was chronic abuse"..."Past violation of the vagina"...."Evidence of both acute injury and chronic sexual abuse." In other words, the doctors were saying it had happened before.
The results, however, were not what is known in the legal world as "conclusive" - which means that there can be no other interpretation - and I would fully expect defense lawyers to argue something different. Nevertheless, our highly qualified doctors had brought in a remarkable finding.
[JonBenet: Inside the Ramsey Murder Investigation, Steve Thomas & Don Davis, p. 253]
|1||Chronic inflammation around vaginal orifice||FF|
|2||Small amount of dried blood on perineum||AR|
|3||Small amount of dried and semifluid blood on skin of fourchette and in vestibule||AR|
|4||Hyperemia of vestibule and vaginal wall||AR|
|5||Abrasion on hymenal orifice at 7 o'clock position, involving the hymen and vaginal wall||AR|
|6||Epithelial erosion with underlying capillary congestion of tissue from 7'oclock||AR|
|7||Hymenal orifice measuring 1cm x 1cm||AR|
|8||A lack of hymenal tissue between the 10 and 2 o'clock positions||AR|
|9||Vascular congestion and focal interstitial chronic inflammation of vaginal mucosa||AR|
|10||Bruise on hymen||BP|
|11||Three dimensional thickening from inside to outside of inferior hymenal rim||BP|
|12||Narrowing of inferior hymenal rim to base of hymen||BP|
|13||Exposure of vaginal rugae||BP|
There was a three dimensional thickening from inside to outside on the inferior hymeneal rim with a bruise apparent on the external surface of the hymen and a narrowing of the hymeneal rim from the edge of the hymen to where it attaches to the muscular portion of the vaginal openings. At the narrowing area, there appeared to be very little if any hymen present.To understand what this means, take a look at the white line segment labeled "Hymenal width" in this colposcopic photo (warning: image of vagina/hymen). It demarcates the length of the hymenal membrane from the rim/edge to the base where it attaches to the vaginal wall.
These findings are highly suggestive of abuse, even in the absence of a disclosure from the child, unless the child and/or caretaker provides a timely and plausible description of accidental anogenital straddle, crush or impalement injury, or past surgical interventions that are confirmed from review of medical records.Among those findings that are "highly suggestive of abuse" includes point 37, listed in the subsection titled "Residual (healing) injuries to genital/anal tissues" under section E:
Healed hymenal transection/complete hymen cleft, a defect in the hymen below the 3-9 o'clock location that extends to or through the base of the hymen, with no hymenal tissue discernible at that locationThis is precisely what Dr. McCann described having observed in JonBenet.
If any doctor or medical provider today observed a transection on the inferior half of the hymen of a prepubertal female patient, he/she would be required to make a report for suspected sexual abuse and an explanation would be required for how that healed injury got there. In forty years of research, this finding has not been seen in any other instance besides from penetrating trauma. In prepubertal girls, it is indicative of sexual abuse unless it can be shown otherwise.
- Multiple studies have noted the presence of hymenal transections only in prepubertal girls with a history of disclosed sexual abuse.
[ Sara T. Stewart, MD. Hymenal Characteristics in Girls with and without a History of Sexual Abuse, p. 533]
- Hymenal transections are very rarely seen in prepubertal girls who have not been sexually abused. However, a demonstrated transection, based on multiple studies, is commonly viewed as “a clear but uncommon indicator of past trauma.”
[Mishori, R., Ferdowsian, H., Naimer, K. et al. The little tissue that couldn’t – dispelling myths about the Hymen’s role in determining sexual history and assault.]
- Thus a deep notch, transection, or perforation on the inferior portion of the hymen may be considered as a definitive sign of sexual abuse or other trauma.
[Berenson, et al. A case-control study of anatomic changes resulting from sexual abuse, p. 829]
- A transection of the posterior hymen between 4 and 8 o’clock in prepubertal girls suggests genital penetrating trauma; however, the presence of this finding is not confirmatory of sexual abuse. Posterior hymenal findings including transections between 4 and 8 o’clock, deep notches, and perforations were not seen in studies of prepubertal girls without a history of genital trauma from sexual abuse included in this systematic review. Therefore, one can conclude that the posterior hymenal findings of transections, deep notches, and perforations are extremely infrequent findings among children without a history of genital trauma from sexual abuse or other means. [...]
However, because the prevalence of posterior hymenal findings (between 4 and 8 o’clock) such as transections, deep notches, and perforations are near zero in nonabused prepubertal girls, the presence of these examination findings suggests genital trauma from sexual abuse. In the absence of known genital trauma from accidental means, the possibility for sexual abuse must be strongly considered. In a prepubertal girl with a posterior hymenal finding of a transection (between 4 and 8 o’clock), a deep notch (between 4 and 8 o’clock), or a perforation, a report to child protective services should be strongly considered. At a minimum, an examination by a child abuse specialist should occur to confirm these findings and to help provide a careful interpretation regarding the likelihood of sexual abuse.
[Molly Curtin Berkoff, MD, MPH; Adam J. Zolotor, MD, MPH; Kathi L. Makoroff, MD; et al. Has This Prepubertal Girl Been Sexually Abused?, p. 2790]
Of 161 accidental genital injuries reported in the literature, 3.7% involved the hymen.However, they do occur and the resulting injuries can mimic those of sexual abuse. In such cases, it is important that the cause of the injury be confirmed.
[Child Abuse: Medical Diagnosis and Management, 4th ed. Antoinette Laskey and Andrew Sirotnak (eds.), p. 359]
Whether an acute or healed genital or anal injury is identified, it is incumbent on the medical professional to obtain a complete history of the nature of the injury. [...]If JonBenet's prior hymenal injury was the result of an accident or a past surgical procedure, it should be reflected in her medical records and easy to prove. An accidental penetrating injury that results in a complete laceration of the hymen is considered severe, one that would be painful and cause bleeding. It would be expected that most parents or caretakers would seek medical attention for their child's injury.
Key differences in the history of accidental trauma, such as a straddle injury, are that accidental injuries are more commonly observed by a third party, medical attention is sought immediately after the injury, a scene-of-injury visit confirms the plausibility of the injuries and the accompanying history, and the pattern of injury is consistent with the history.
[Child Abuse: Medical Diagnosis and Management, 4th ed. Antoinette Laskey and Andrew Sirotnak (eds.), p. 359]
2020.09.25 19:48 dogeman87 Hidden camera parents sex
You know how it goes. They tell you you’re the perfect child. You were so perfect that they didn’t want to have any more. You’re smart, caring, sociable. Any goal they set for you is reached. Any goal you set for yourself is too high, but you reach it anyways.
I imagine that is how most only children feel at some point. My parents are wonderful people, and I think most of what they say about me is true, even if they tend to sugarcoat it. Now that I’m in college, I do some more questionable things that they might not approve of, but who doesn’t?
In truth, I’m not as perfect as they make me out to be. I’m an above-average student, but I’m not pre-med or engineering. I’m majoring in economics. I do well, I get solid A’s and a few B’s, and I’m active in a couple clubs. I still have no idea what I want to do in life, though.
I’ve only dated one girl, all the way back in sophomore year of high school. The relationship fell apart at the beginning of senior year. We split amicably, I think. Since then, I just haven’t found anyone. You know how it is, scrolling through Tinder and finding so many prospects but then realizing that all of them are either assholes or comically awkward.
Does it bother me? No. None of it does. I couldn’t care less if I’m dating or doing well in school. As long as I’m maintaining my GPA and having fun, classes don’t bother me. I go to parties, I hang out with friends, I smoke a bit of weed every now and then. I’m living the college life.
Well, I was. Then I had this conversation with my dad my freshman year. I’m a senior now. It seemed harmless enough. He asked how my week went, and I told him fine. I asked how he and mom were doing, and he said fine. He asked me what my grades were. Normal, I told him. A’s and B’s. He was satisfied.
Before he hung up, he admitted something to me. “Grant,” he said. “Have you noticed anything strange lately?”
I was dumbfounded. “No, Dad. What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.”
He left it at that, and I could only speculate what he had meant. He wouldn’t elaborate. He only told me to have a great rest of my day.
The next evening, he washed up dead on the riverbank.
After two weeks, the police gave up. They said the cause of death was drowning. The autopsy matched up, I guess. They don’t know who did it. The fact that there was foul play is obvious, because my dad was stripped of his wedding ring and clothes and he lived far away from the river.
I had to fly halfway across the country for the funeral. I ended up taking incompletes for my classes that semester. The day would not move fast enough. The services took forever. I don’t remember much, only shaking a lot of people’s hands and watching my mother fall apart. That was the hardest part, I think, watching her sob uncontrollably. Nothing is more disturbing than watching a loved one break down like that. It hits hard, harder than a punch or a knife to the gut. It twists your stomach until you can’t eat anymore, can’t sleep, or maybe you sleep for fifteen hours and still feel exhausted.
I don’t like to dwell on the funeral, so I won’t. I’ll let your imagination fill in the blanks. You can picture what it was like.
I returned to school the next semester. Everyone was sympathetic, but at the same time they gave me space. They knew I didn’t want to talk about it. What college student would? How weird would that have been, breaking down at a party or in the middle of class and talking about my dead dad? Normal, yes, but also embarrassing as hell.
Nevertheless, I found myself talking about it with some girl. I was drunk, way too drunk for my own good. One thing they don’t tell you at parties is how to pace yourself. College kids don’t have much tolerance for alcohol. A couple beers is all it takes to get wasted, for some of us.
I was a little different. I’m tall, over six feet, so I could take more than most. Still, I had only been to a handful of parties at that point. It only took a couple hours to lose self-control.
The girl was pretty. I remember that, though I don’t remember what she actually looked like. She consoled me for a while. I don’t remember why I was talking about my dad, either. I’m sure she had heard the story already. Word got around campus fast. She still listened.
I’m not sure how it escalated, but one thing led to another, and the next thing I remember she was sucking my dick in a closet. Sounds bad, I know, and it was. Not as bad as some of the other things, though. Someone had brought coke- thank God I didn’t go for that- and as we’d made our way to the back of the house, I saw a couple having sex on the couch. In the middle of the room. People were just walking around them like it was nothing.
At least I wore a condom?
Whatever. College is crazy. Case closed. Right?
I wish it were that simple. Thing is, after we had sex the girl, understandably, left me by myself. Probably went to blow some other guy. I went back into the main room, and that’s when things started to go to shit.
They were still doing coke. One of the guys offered some. When I declined, he pressed a straw into my hand instead. I told him he could go shove it. For some reason, the guy didn’t react. He just turned back to the table.
I knew I had to get out of there. Getting caught with alcohol is one thing. But coke? I could go to prison for that. I started extracting myself from the room when I heard it.
There was someone in the bathroom at the top of the stairs. They were whimpering. My first guess was sex, because I’d seen so much of it already that night. But there was only one voice, and the whimpers sounded like pain. Then there was a thud.
I knocked on the door. No response. I rattled the doorknob, and of course it was locked. Then I kicked the door in. The guy that I’d heard was on the floor. There was a little blood, but most startling was the pool of vomit and the guy’s facial expression. He looked dead. I checked his pulse, determined that he was indeed alive, then rolled him onto his side and pulled out my phone to call an ambulance.
That’s when I saw the shadow. It was so faint. I’m not sure how I noticed, really, except for the fact that it shifted. I looked at the shower curtain. Fear settled in my stomach then. I realized that I was in a room on the second floor, far from the rest of the party, with no one but the passed-out guy within calling distance.
The shadow was just from a headlight outside. I began to breath again. Then I felt the hand on my shoulder.
I tried to scream. Another hand slowly closed around my mouth. It was cold and leathery, and wet. I tasted what was probably blood, and I suspected it was from the hand. I began to hyperventilate, which, as you might have guessed, was a really bad idea when my airway was being blocked. I pretty much was asking to lose consciousness.
The hand that had grabbed my shoulder moved down my back. I felt what I can only describe as a tonguelike protrusion running over my neck. I trembled. I figured I was about to die. I would be lying on the floor like this guy, killed by a monster, and no one would find us until next morning at the earliest, and undoubtedly they would think I died the same way as him.
Amazingly, my first thought was of my mom. She couldn’t deal with another death in the family. She would lose it, as anyone would. That, more than the immediate threat that had presented itself, chilled me.
That’s when I ripped the hand from my mouth and screamed. The hand fell on the floor, disintegrated into dust, and I screamed some more.
Whatever had been behind me was gone. I knew it the second it left, because the room suddenly warmed up. I had not realized it had been so cold. Probably I had been too caught up in the moment. The temperature now was like a sauna in comparison.
I looked around frantically. I examined the walls, the ceiling, brushed back the shower curtain, peered carefully behind the toilet. There was nothing. I sat there on the floor for a while, waiting for the shadow and the monster to return. My skin crawled, thinking of that leathery hand on my mouth, the tongue leaving saliva on my neck.
If I had been doing coke, I could have chalked it up to a hallucination. But I’d been clean. I’d had a few beers, but at that moment I was pretty lucid. I was certainly more lucid than the guy on the floor.
I had forgotten about him, actually. I looked at my phone, which had fallen on the floor during my encounter with the shadow, and I picked it up. I dialed 911, told them what had happened, then left. The next morning half a dozen people were looking at drug charges in addition to underage drinking.
The guy that I found? He recovered. I think after that he didn’t go to any more parties. I don’t blame him. His blood alcohol content was .35, if I remember correctly. He should have been dead.
I didn’t go to many other parties, but for a different reason. My name had not been used in the paper, so my mom didn’t know. There was no pressure from her or anyone else, least of all the police, who chastised me but were happy that I did the right thing. No, it was the shadow that stopped me. I didn’t want to be in a place where everyone was drunk or coked out again, because if I was that shadow could return and probably kill me. I’m certain that it left because it thought others would find it. It was waiting for a time when I was alone.
Much better to stay home, in the safety of the dorms, with my two other roommates and the dozen others that were within earshot and sober. Much better to forget what had happened, chalk it up to stress or a laced drink, and go on with my life as I had before.
Thing is, it’s never that simple. I wasn’t able to forget about the monster, because that wasn’t the last time I saw it.
My roommates were out, and I was by myself. That was the first mistake. Jason had gone to a D&D game. Richard had been invited to a party by one of the football players, somehow. He’s not athletic, not particularly impressive in any way, but he’s chill as hell. Everyone is his friend, which is probably how he got invited.
I wasn’t doing much. I was not alone, either. There were people on either side of my room, behind the walls, guys who were probably jerking off or playing video games. Me? I was reading a book. I know, not exactly what you would expect from someone my age. But I like reading. I especially like Stephen King (which may have been the wrong thing to read at that moment), and that’s what I was reading when I heard the noise.
I didn’t react to it. I figured someone was outside. We lived in suites, where four or five rooms shared a semi-private bathroom. It was a hell of a lot better than the bathrooms in other dorms, which were set up for entire floors. Here you could have some privacy.
The bathroom door closed. There was a loud grunt, then a plop. I sighed. It was probably Randolph. He takes the largest shits of anyone I have ever known. He can sit there for twenty minutes and keep dropping them. Usually we have to use the plunger or call maintenance when that happens. That night, though, would be different.
He gave out a yelp, and then I heard the door slam. I looked up. My door was partially closed, so I walked over to open it, and that’s when I saw him. He was slumped over on the toilet.
I ran over to him, ignored the penis in his hands, and checked for a pulse. He seemed fine. There were no wounds on him. He hadn’t moved, either, had obviously passed out on the seat. So how had the door been flung open?
I felt it again. The hand. It was on my arm this time. I would have let out a scream had it not clamped down. It felt like my bones were being grinded together. The pain was so immense that my vision flickered, and I could only whimper.
I was thrown back into my room. Somehow, I landed on my bed. Then I saw it. The monster was there, standing in the doorway. Perhaps demon is a better word. It was tall, maybe seven or eight feet, and it was completely black. I don’t mean black as in a black laptop or shirt or an xbox. This thing defied logic. It seemed to be so dark that light did nothing to illuminate it.
It had horns, antler-like but distinct in that they came from the side of its head and were not very long. The eyes were the worst. They were coal-black, with tinges of red where white should have been. And they were looking straight at me.
I did scream then. Someone said something in an adjacent room. The demon’s head whipped to the side unnaturally, like a kid whipping a pool noodle, and then it scrambled into the ceiling. Yeah, you read that right. It went into the ceiling, climbed up the walls like a drugged-up lizard and just phased through the tiles.
I didn’t move until the RA came over. He noticed Randolph first. Surprisingly, he did not make any snide remarks about Randolph’s dick. He called campus police before asking me what had happened. I told him. I asked if I would be in trouble. He said no way, because I obviously had not hurt Randolph. What had happened to him was a mystery.
Well, until the police arrived. They took him in, and I heard that he tested positive for MDMA. Ecstasy. I had not known him to be the druggie type. I mean, most college students experiment, but doing it in the dorm? It was asking for trouble. And Randolph was not stupid. He was a lot smarter than me, got a single B first semester and didn’t have to study as hard as most of us.
I wished he had been awake to see the demon. If he had been, of course, I suspect the demon would not have showed. It seemed to be fixated on me and me alone. It did not want to be seen by others. That was a comfort, I suppose, if not downright terrifying. There would be moments, I was sure, where I was forced to be alone. In the dorm or at a party or in a bathroom between classes… forgive me for the cliché, but the possibilities were endless.
So I told my roommates about what had happened. They didn’t get back until late that night, well after I had gone to sleep. I don’t know how I did. I guess I’m a heavy sleeper, is all. You kind of have to be if you want any rest in a dorm, at least one as rowdy as ours can get.
None of us had classes the next morning. Jason was skeptical, as he should have been. If he had told me about monsters and demons, I wouldn’t have believed him. Richard was more open to the idea, but he didn’t seem to care. He told me to chill out. I was too stressed, he said. Did I need to talk about what had happened last semester?
“It has nothing to do with that,” I snapped.
He raised his hands. “Hey, dude, don’t yell at me. I’m just trying to help.”
“Yeah,” I told him. “I know.”
“Then listen to me, man. You need to take a breather. When’s the last time you went to a party? Hey, you know what, I’ve got the perfect idea. I met this girl last night. Super hot and friendly. She’s your type. I think-“
“I’m not looking for a hookup,” I said flatly.
“What? You’re gonna turn down sex?”
I stared at him, and I think he finally got the message. He shut up.
“I have an idea,” Jason said. “What if we set up surveillance? I know a place where we can get hidden cameras. It’s not far from campus. I’ll get them after class Friday. If it doesn’t like being watched, like you say, then it shouldn’t bother you again.”
I knew Jason didn’t believe me. Still, the fact that he wanted to ease my nerves meant a lot. He’s not the most outgoing kind of guy. He’s a nerd, a chemistry student with a passion for chemistry and nothing else. He’s involved in academic extracurriculars only. I think he’s dated before, but I never learned the details. He doesn’t talk about girls. I only know that there’s this one girl in my English class, Jessica, who says he’s a creep.
We stuck to the plan. It wasn’t foolproof- I would find myself alone outside of the dorm eventually- but it was good enough. As it turned out, I would be by myself Saturday morning. Jason had a club meeting that for some reason had not been held during the week, and Richard was going on a date. He has unconventional good looks- long black hair, brown eyes, thin beard with just the right shape- and he’s smooth. Like, more smooth than should be humanly possible. He’s chill around us and chiller around girls, like he’s known them forever. They love that about him, how genuine he can be.
I begged one of them to stay. Jason told me, understandably, that he couldn’t miss the meeting. Richard was not about to ghost the girl he had been building a relationship with for the past month. Jason said I could always call for the RA or other guys in the dorm. I figured he was right. I also figured I didn’t want the demon to show up at all. Screw proving it to my roommates- I just wanted it to go away.
It didn’t appear until two hours after Jason left. Richard had already been gone for a while, had probably made his way back to the girl’s room. I heard it before I saw it. The demon made a slithering sound when it walked. I had not noticed before because it always appeared, never really moved across the room.
I looked up. You’d think seeing it two times before would make it less scary. You’d be wrong. Having a seven-foot, black-skinned behemoth with antlers and red eyes stand over you, it’s just too much. I screamed like a girl. I guess that time it didn’t get close enough to shut me up.
Its head darted toward the door, and for some reason I took my eyes off the thing. Jason was standing there with his backpack in his hand. His jaw had dropped so far open I thought he would shriek like one of those possessed people in horror movies. The demon skittered up the wall and through the ceiling.
We looked at each other for a while, neither of us speaking. He was still holding his backpack in one hand. I was halfway out of my chair, frozen, ready to spring up at the sight of another monster. Finally he dropped his backpack, and I fell into my seat.
“What the fuck was that?” Jason said. His words startled me. I almost never heard him swear.
“It’s what I told you about,” I said. Even as I spoke, Jason was climbing on the bed, reaching for one of the cameras, taking it down and hooking it up to his laptop. “Now you believe me?”
“I think I have to,” he said, laughing nervously. “Unless we’re both insane.”
He tinkered with his laptop for a while. When he started cursing, I walked over and asked what the problem was. He just pointed to the screen. I looked and saw the timestamp in the bottom left corner. Twenty minutes ago, about when he had walked in and saw the demon. The room was empty. Then I saw him appear in the doorway, flabbergasted, before climbing on the bed and taking down the camera. The footage ended there.
“It didn’t show up,” I said.
“We’re both crazy, after all,” he told me.
“No, we’re not. Think about it. Would a demon want to show itself? This is the first time someone else has seen it. If you hadn’t walked in when you did, I doubt you would have ever gotten your proof.”
He rubbed his chin. “You might be right.”
“You can’t tell me you think that was a hallucination. I told you about it earlier this week. How the hell do you explain seeing what I had already seen?”
“Yeah,” Jason sighed. “I just was hoping it wasn’t real.”
We talked about it for a while. He wanted to know exactly what had happened at the party. I wasn’t sure what good it would do, but I told him anyways. There was no harm in sharing. Besides, I wanted to tell someone. I had only mentioned the demon in vague details when I had first seen it. Telling the whole story, about how it had emerged from a shadow and almost suffocated me to death, that would have been a red flag for sure. Jason would have referred me to the counseling office.
We waited for Richard to get home. When he did, he was drunk on ecstasy or alcohol or both. I don’t mean the drug ecstasy, either. He was grinning stupidly, and I was sure he’d have some wild sex story to talk about. Before he could share, Jason started explaining rapidly what had happened, and he sobered up fast.
Richard hadn’t been skeptical from the start. Hearing Jason talk about the demon only made him more convinced. He wanted to summon it immediately and fight.
“We’ll be killed,” I told him.
“Nah,” he said. “I can call in some of my buddies. I think one of them, that football player that lives off campus? I think he has a gun.”
“Jesus, Rich,” Jason said. “You want to bring a gun into the dorm?”
He shrugged. “Would they blame us if we were hunting a demon?”
“Yes, they would,” I told him. “There are no guns allowed. Besides, the thing didn’t show up on camera.”
We hinged on a plan that admittedly had more flaws than a third-grade essay. Jason did some research. He had to go through the deep web, which I know nothing about, and he found some information. First, he determined that, from my description, the demon supposedly took away men’s fertility.
Had it killed my father?
I didn’t want to think about that. It hardly mattered what had happened, because the past would not change.
We didn’t really find anything on how to kill the demon. Jason had a few suggestions based on the show Supernatural, but I shot those down. I figured a fictional series would know nothing about real life. Unless those were real, he told me. I’d seen a little of the show myself, and I insisted that what I had seen was very different than a demon occupying a human host.
In the end, we had no idea what the hell we were doing. We just made a conglomeration of different precautions. Jason bought some salt, Richard brought a hunting knife (that, unlike a gun, might not get me expelled), I asked around and found out that most of my friends found me crazy. I understood. If one of them had come to me asking about demons, I would have acted the same.
Richard also asked some of his friends for help. Somehow, they believed him. I’m not sure if it’s because of Richard’s charisma or because he never lies or both. Whatever the case, he actually found someone who claimed to know a thing or two.
She was an old woman, and she met with Richard during the week. He came back and told us that the demon took the fertility of older men, then killed them. I asked why it was stalking me. He said they did not like leaving any descendants.
I think that’s when I realized: this thing had been hunting my dad. It seemed so obvious now. There are many, many people in the world that purposefully have one child. My parents, though? I knew immediately what had happened. This demon had stalked my dad. It had killed him, too, and now it, as Richard had said, wanted to finish the job.
That was when I stopped caring. I didn’t mind that what we were doing was crazy. I didn’t mind the possibility of a horrible death, because it was quite likely given our meager preparations. I was dead anyways, and that knowledge made me more confident in what we were doing, as strange as it may sound.
After my dad died, I was never angry. My mom was, for sure; she blamed the police for botching the investigation, when in fact there was absolutely no evidence for them to use. I had understood. My dad had been murdered, yes, but without a perpetrator I had not been able to direct any anger I might have felt.
Now it was different. I wanted to confront this demon and rip its eyes from its sockets. I wanted to send it back to Hell, or send it there for the first time if it had never visited, and let it suffer for all eternity. I couldn’t know if my dad was the only victim. He probably hadn’t been. Most of the time, the demon tended to pray on men that had no children.
I’m not sure how it made a mistake with me. I just knew that the mistake would be its last.
I was sitting on my bed, surrounded by salt, holding a knife and a bottle of holy water with Jason and Richard waiting down the hall. They had closed the door, and to make themselves inconspicuous they were pretending to work on homework. In reality, they were waiting for me to call for help, if I needed it. I suspected I would.
Richard had dug deeper into his network of friends. He had spoken to a mother of a friend of a friend who owned an antique shop. She apparently owned a ceremonial dagger from the Middle Ages. She allowed him to borrow it for a price, so long as he brought it back in good condition. I don’t think she knew what we were using it for.
I felt the demon before I saw it. The room grew cold. I don’t mean chilly, I mean cold, like those walk-in freezers. Jason likened it to a cold room he had used during research. I don’t know anything about those, but maybe the analogy is useful for someone else.
It still scared me. The tall black figure with its truncated antlers was so unnatural, I figured I would never get used to seeing it. When it appeared in front of me and reached out a hand- I noticed now that the hand was covered in dry, cracked, human skin- I wanted to scream. I didn’t. I reached out my knife and stabbed it in the arm.
It didn’t flinch. The hand kept moving and grasped my neck. I could feel the dry skin shed and fall down the front of my shirt. I wanted to gag. The roughness of the hand drew blood. Instead of freezing up, I managed to open my bottle of holy water and toss it.
That did something. The demon let out this whine that I can liken only to an electronic device. It backed up, and I tossed more water on its face. The skin started to melt. I thought I had succeeded, but then bone began to surface from beneath, forming what looked like a grinning animal skull that was gnashing its teeth.
I screamed then. Richard burst into the room and threw his knife. Somehow it landed in the demon’s chest. That’s what did it, I think. It screamed so loud I thought I’d lose my hearing. My ears rang, and Richard was saying something to me, but my attention was fixated on the center of the room. The demon had tripped over a particularly large pile of salt. It was melting, taking the floor with it, like we had dropped a bottle of acid. There was a hole next to my bed.
I ignored what he and Jason were saying. I kept my eyes on the floor, watching the hole widen. It stopped, and when I finally turned towards my roommates, an RA was staring at us through the open doorway, frozen in place, fixated on the same thing that I had been.
He must have also noticed the antlers next to the hole.
The official report said nothing. It could not determine what had happened in the room. The RA didn’t believe our story. No other explanations emerged, though. I was told that no acid could eat through the floor as quickly as the demon’s remains had. Thank God Jason still had cameras up, because they showed exactly what had happened, though without the demon it just showed a hole opening up in the carpet.
Richard lost the knife and had to fork over a whopping two thousand dollars. He told us it was a bargain. The item had been priceless, most likely, and the woman could have bankrupted him for losing it.
I haven’t been haunted by anything since that incident freshman year. I started going to parties again. Jason moved on, pretending that none of it had happened, but Richard had a fantastic story to share with people. Most didn’t believe him. Some egged him on. A choice few took what he said too seriously, offering him other demon-hunting supplies. He laughed them off, saying the problem had been dealt with, so they instead came to me and explained the seriousness of my situation. I shook them off, too. What was I supposed to do? Start stockpiling ceremonial weapons and holy water?
I never told my mom. She wouldn’t have believed me. She didn’t hear about what had happened in the room, either. The footage showed us doing nothing, only me staring at a bunch of salt as it started dissolving the floor. None of us got in trouble. They didn’t even care that I had a knife sticking out of the wall. I guess they were too preoccupied with the rest of the scene.
I wish I could give you some dramatic conclusion, a fight that lasted for hours or an epic chase. On second thought, I’m glad I can’t describe that, but the truth is that what happened was pretty simple. I tossed some water and Richard threw a knife. That was it. The whole thing took thirty seconds at most.
It seems that most things in life are anticlimactic. An exciting movie, a first date, graduation- once it’s over, you’re left with a certain emptiness, like whatever you just did shouldn’t have ended so quickly. They say time flies (I hate that cliché), but it doesn’t. What happens is we expect things to be greater than they really are. We imagine some grand outcome, beyond what reality can provide us, and it almost never goes that way.
I can’t know for sure that I will be safe for the rest of my life. I only know that I’ve gotten through college unscathed so far. If there is another encounter, it won’t end well, because I won’t be prepared this time. It will be different, surely, a more dangerous monster or just a surprise attack when I least expect it. I definitely won’t write another story about it, because I’ll probably be dead.
If you hear about some university kid that dropped dead of a heart attack or washed up in a river, it will probably be me.
submitted by dogeman87 to nosleep [link] [comments]
2020.08.24 15:53 Bluebird-Ordinary Hidden camera parents sex
I’m a recovering porn addict. An addiction that started over 30 years ago (I shake my head in shame and cry when I wrote that) and ended just over a week ago. Because of the time spent with my addiction, I find it almost impossible to maintain an erection and orgasm without porn.
My addiction has cost me relationships, experiences and my mental and physical well being.
I’ve known that I’ve had a problem for decades but I wasn’t able to snap out of it or even admit that I needed to do something about it.
I’m a 44 year old separated father of two. I started very young, around aged 8, when I found porn magazines under my dad’s bed. I was an unhappy kid, struggling to cope with my parents divorce and the dopamine hit that came from seeing those images was a much welcomed hit of pleasure. Now when I think back, this was my way of escaping from reality, something that has followed me into adult life.
I’m a child of the technological revolution that has brought with it a revolution in the availability of porn. I went from magazines and VHS as a child / teenager to unlimited free porn with the rise of high speed internet and websites like pornhub available on any screen I had at my disposal.
My brain craved porn more than sex. I would consume porn at work on my phone while sitting on the toilet. I would watch porn after having sex because I still needed that hit. I’ve been on 8hr cocaine and viagra fuelled masturbation binges where I watch porn and edge for as long as possible or until my dick is too sore to touch. I’d like to say this has only happened once or twice but it happens pretty much every time I’m left alone with cocaine. I’m not me when that happens, it’s like I’m possessed, gorging myself on the dopamine that comes with watching all the videos, and after I get that huge orgasm i’ve been chasing I feel absolutely ashamed and spiral into a pit of guilt. But that hasn’t stopped me from doing it again and again.
The last time this happened was last Saturday, 15th August. I had taken some viagra but was unable to maintain an erection. Not even porn was doing it for me anymore. This, thankfully, was the turning point and, while it’s only been a week or so since it happened, I feel like something has changed in me. I don’t crave porn because I don’t want to be that person anymore. I want to be sexually active and have the touch of a woman or a sexy thought (from the real world) pop into my head and arouse me. It’s only been a week and I feel like I’ve got a bit more energy and my brain is firing on more cylinders than before. It’s encouraging and giving me an incentive to continue.
I’ve found really useful support online like your brain on porn. Understanding how the brain has wired itself to release high levels of dopamine when consuming porn, in the same way as any other addiction, has made me feel like it’s not my fault that I’m like this and so the guilt has been replaced with knowledge.
The other horrible thing about this addiction is the impact it has on other aspects to of my life. The desensitising of normal everyday experiences that should bring joy and the brain fog that has been a permanent haze in my mind for as long as I can remember led me to believe that this is my part of my personality, that this is just who I am. I know now that is isn’t permanent, that it can be removed, that there’s more to life. It feels like I’m slowly waking up. Reading stories from recovered addicts and those still on the path to recovery has been a huge part of me seeing the light and getting to this point. Thank you to everybody who has shared, it really does make a huge difference.
The way I see it, I’ve wasted well over 30 years of my life on this shit. I’ve hidden it from everybody even when I’ve had the opportunity to open up about it in a safe space. I’ve had enough! I don’t want to be that person anymore. I want to be able to have sex without the anxiety of worrying if i’ll be able to keep it up or will I be able to have an orgasm. I want to be in the moment instead of looking in from the outside. I don’t want to lie to myself or anyone else about this anymore.
So cutting out porn completely is the first step. I’ve cut out smoking weed too, another addiction that’s been clouding my brain and something i’ve used as a way to escape. No more porn stops things from getting worse but now I need to fix the damage that’s been done.
I need to let my brain rewire itself (thank fuck for brain elasticity) so that it associates real-world desire, touch and sex with that dopamine hit instead of pixels on a screen. My recovery needs time. The advice is no PMO for at least 90 days, possibly longer as I’ve had this addiction for so long, to give my brain time to unlearn the old habits and rewire itself. That sounds like a huge mountain to climb right now but I’m determined to do it.
The catalyst to me finally deciding to do something about this is a girl I really like. We started chatting on Tinder about a week ago and have been messaging each other everyday. She’s a really nice person, beautiful inside and out, really hot and we get along so well. We’ve been sending each other sexy texts and we started to cam a few days ago. Our cam sessions are super hot, she’s so sexy and I really like watching her but at the same time I know I shouldn’t be doing this as I know it’s not helping with my recovery but, like my addiction to porn, I didn’t want to admit that to myself or to her. We’ve had a few cam sessions now and last night she asked me why I don’t orgasm when we cam together. I could tell I was causing some insecurities and I really didn’t want to do that to her. I blamed it on not being used to doing things on camera, which is true, but despite being super turned on clearly the PIED/DE is the root cause here. I think because it’s on a screen that I’m able to get hard (plus the fact she’s super hot and ridiculously sexy) but i’m not 100% in the moment with her and I find that so frustrating, it’s such a difficult situation to overcome.
We agreed to see each other in a few days as we are so horny for each other but I could feel myself getting anxious about my PIED/DE. In the past, I would’ve reached for a viagra or something if we had sex but I don’t want to live that life, plus I can’t depend on a pill to do the job and I really don’t want to make her feel insecure if it didn’t work. I also don’t want to lie to her. I’ve done enough of that to last two lifetimes.
Today her I told her about my addiction, how it developed, how it’s affected me over the years...everything. She’s the only person I’ve told. I also told her what I need to do to recover and this is where I made a really bad decision.
I assumed she wouldn’t want anything to do with me. Why would someone want to inherit the trials and tribulations of a recovering porn addict, especially with someone they’ve only know for one week?! I explained that I have to work on myself and that sex or even messing around on cam is not going to help my recovery. I didn’t say that I don’t want to see her again but it wouldn’t exactly be jumping to conclusions to take that away from what I had written.
She was really upset, firstly that I’d waited until after we had cam sex to tell her this and secondly that I’d assumed she was only interested in sex. I should’ve been totally open with her from the start about my addiction and my recovery but I didn’t want to deny myself and in doing so I used her. I’m not proud of myself for that and even less so for hurting her in the process. I’ve hurt too many people because of my addiction and I hated myself for doing it again, especially after I’d managed to get myself into place where I want to change. I hate that my addiction was still affecting my decisions and my ability to develop a connection with someone despite cutting out porn. I assumed sexy texts, photos, videos and cam sessions would be different as it was with a real person who I had a real connection with but that’s not the case.
After we chatted it through and I apologised for being such an idiot she said all I had to say was can we ease up on the sex and just talk instead. She asked me if I still wanted to talk to her and of course I said yes. I mean how kind, right! I was so caught up in my own shit that I didn’t even stop to think that someone else would care. The moral of this bit of the story is be honest, don’t assume people don’t want to help you with your recovery and don’t be so hard on yourself. There are genuinely nice people out there who want to help you.
submitted by Bluebird-Ordinary to PIED [link] [comments]
2020.08.19 10:32 tiredmochi Camera hidden sex parents
obvious TW (self harm, ED, grooming) very long
i made this throwaway because i dont know what else to do. i turned 18 about a week ago and i guess that was probably the catalyst for all of this. ill start from the beginning
i was 4, and i remember it was memorial day. i wanted to ride a pony so my dad paid the guy and i got on the horse. i dont know if it's because i was so young or because i blocked it out but i think the man walking the horse touched my genitalia. ive been terrified of riding a horse since.
i discovered porn when i was 10, curious and having no adult supervision for navigating the internet, i became hypersexual. i remember going to bathroom during class to masturbate in the stalls (alone, but still). i used to take baths with my little brother and i remember we would poke at each other's privates if we stood up for some reason because it "felt funny." however it got weird when i knew what sex was and he didn't. i asked him to touch my nipples once. i feel grossed out and ashamed when i remember it.
it's worth mentioning i am a transgender man, and as a kid, i had a huge disconnect with my body that led me to hate it and myself. my mom physically and emotionally abused me most of my childhood (id say 6-15) and my dad turned out to be a drug user and pedophile. more on that later. because of everything, including undiagnosed mental illness, i was a very angry kid seeking ANY sort of approval and validation.
i never thought i had any repressed memories. but i realize now that there are huge chunks i can't account for and that isn't normal. my parents separated when i was about 5 due to my dad's drug use, where i remember waking up in an unfamiliar housr, but my dad was granted monthly visitation with supervision. my mom would later disclose she had to take me and my little brother (and older half sisters) away from my father because he threatened to kidnap me and my brother.
during the monthly weekend visitations i didn't actually spend much time with my dad. he was usually drinking, napping, or watching NASCAR. he almost always had a roommate that moved into my sister's old room. my mom told me to stay away from his roommates but i never knew why. i remember one had a bunny and he said i should come to his room and see. i remember the bunny but nothing else. my dad used to also say strange things sometimes, that made me uncomfortable and confused. he'd ask me if anyone but my mother or a doctor had touched my privates. i guess this could be seen as looking out for me but it always felt strange. my mom later told me he used to make inappropriate comments about my half sisters (his step daughters) about their boobs or tight jeans. one of my sisters once found he had hidden little cameras around the house. there was one in the bathroom and my sisters' shared bedroom. my mom also once found violent porn on his laptop, including possible CP (young looking girls of questionable age). i didn't have any idea what a horrible person my father was until i was around 16 because my mom only shared bits and pieces with me, and i didn't even get into the marital abuse, racism, homophobia, and transphobia.
all this said, you'd think my mom would've monitored my internet usage as a kid. but i dont blame her. in the span of three years, she loses her mother, she goes through a nasty divorce with my father, and then she loses her father. she didn't even have a job for a year or two when she took me away from my dad because he had made her stop working when my brother was born, so we had to live sparingly off of inheritance.
my mom's neglect and abuse gave me all sorts of issues, along with me struggling with my self hate and internalized homophobia and transphobia as a result of a Christian upbringing. this eventually led to me having a throwaway instagram account when i was 12 solely with the intention of exchanging nudes with people. around the same time, i had a monster training app with a global chat where i met someone claiming to be 15 (in retrospect he was probably a pedo) and it's hazy, but we got to the point of role playing sex in a private chat. i lost my login once when i got bounced out and couldn't remember my password, and honestly, im glad. i dont know what that guy would've had me do, because i trusted him to a scary amount for someone who didn't even know what he looked like.
back to the instagram account. this is where things are foggiest, but ill try my best to recount what i can. one day, i get a message from a guy. we'll call him Jeff (not his real name, because i can't actually remember it). the kicker? i messaged him first. i think i either commented on a post or sent him a dm. i remember seeing one of those black background posts with the eggplant and peach emoji like "comment/like for nudes" or something. Jeff tells me he thinks im sexy. now, on this account, i did not post my face. i only showed topless pictures, but it was very clear i was underage given the underdeveloped body proportions. Jeff asks for my age, and im truthful. i tell him i am 12. he says i am very beautiful for a 12 year old. i dont know how, but Jeff convinces me after a few days to give him my phone number. i do. by then, he is texting me daily. i send him nudes almost every day. he listens to me and when i tell him i hate my mom because she hits me, he tells me i am right. i feel heard. and he tells me i am beautiful. tells me im so mature for my age. yet i feel gross. eventually, Jeff gets to see my face when i send him a video of me purposefully dropping my shower towel. he responds with a video of him jacking off. i dry heave for 15 or so minutes before i respond. i never see Jeff's face. i never know his true age. he asks me once the oldest person id ever date. i say around 10-15. he says that makes him sad because he is older than that. i feel bad and say for him i would make an exception.
i dont remember much. i feel sick to my stomach when i think about it. when i got my new phone two years ago, i had a breakdown because his contact was in there, restored from my old apple id. i was 13 when i cut off contact with Jeff. he had started being mean to me after i told him i had a crush on a boy at school. i remember i felt so relieved yet so terrified when i finally blocked Jeff's number. and i felt bad too. i did it for a childish reason; he said no 13 year old boy could pleasure my body like he could or appreciate my beauty, but i didn't care because i loved this boy. even though it was a silly reason, im so glad i did it. i still can't shake the feeling it was my fault.
but this isn't the end. that boy i mentioned? he ended up becoming my first boyfriend. we'll call him Will. his parents didn't like me so we only went on one date. it was to a Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 1 showing at my school for some fundraiser. we got a table in the very back all by ourselves. this is hazy for me too. Will asks me to touch him. that being with me makes him horny and as his girlfriend i should do something. i say no three times in workaround ways like "i just wanna watch the movie" but eventually he grabs my hand and shoves it down his pants.
i guess he felt me tense because i distinctly remember him saying "don't worry, these are my PE shorts". Will uses my hand to jack himself off. i dont know if he finished or not. i just know im shaking uncontrollably when i do get my hand back. when my friends asked how my date went i didn't want to believe he would do that to me, so i tell my friends i did it willingly. they laugh at me and call me a slut and a whore. i never did tell them the truth. i break up with Will and go out with a girl for a while before i start wrestling a bit with my sexuality and gender identity. a year of weird hate and sexual tense between me and Will goes by. we end up getting back together, this time him being somewhat aware im not a girl (but not sure WHAT i am) and he turns out to be bisexual.
i think Will regretted forcing me to jack him off, because he asked for my consent for lots when we went out the second time. we never talked about that movie night. i turn out to be one of the only virgins at school and Will finds this hot, but i refuse to have sex. i didn't know why at the time, but i was terrified. im still not sure why it scared me so bad. eventually, Will cheats on me by having sex with a neighbor because i won't. he phrases it in a way that makes me feel like the bad guy for not having sex with him (said stuff like "i have to tell you something but you'll get mad at me :(") i think Will struggled with hypersexuality too, because he confides in me that he was raped as a child. i couldn't bring myself to tell him my experiences. we stayed together for another month or two (with him probably still cheating without my knowledge) before our school shut down and he dumps me. i had known him since we were 11 and i want to believe he did love me, but i can't be sure. he'd stuck with me through my years struggling with self harm and anorexia, and even though my first suicide attempt (which he got mad at me but that's besides the point).
it's two years later when i transfer to a new school my junior year and im comfortable in my identity as a trans man. i meet a guy who we'll call Alex. he's instantly flirtatious with me, even going as far as to bite my ear no less. i still crave the validation from other people so i give him my number. he asks if it's okay to send me a dick pic. i flash to Jeff and decline, saying i want to get to know him better. literally the next day i text Alex that im sad and he says he knows something that will cheer me up. i expect a meme and what do i get? a dick pic. i felt sick to my stomach. i ignore Alex as much as i can, but he stalks me around the school and figures out my schedule. he corners me in remote places such as the school cafe booths (like a booth at a restaurant) and tells me he knows how badly i want to fuck him (disclaimer: i did not). Alex continues to follow me around and say obscene things, including one time he said he wanted to gouge out my eyes because he found them so beautiful. it's when he touches me that i flip. he grabs my thigh but all i can do is sit completely frozen. when he finally goes away, i feel like throwing up. i didn't have many friends at my new school but i joined theater and one of them went with me to student support to report him to a teacher i trusted. i was shaking the entire time but i felt absolutely stupid because he didn't actually hurt me.
with all of that, ive used being underage as an excuse for not wanting sex. granted i get horny and i do jack off (being on testosterone and all, though my antidepressants make it difficult) and i can think about having sex in theory but if i think about it in the actuality, it still scares me. i dont know why, because i was never raped. now that im 18 i have nothing to hide behind, and ive been dwelling on all of this trying to remember the missing chunks of my childhood.
ive always had a tendency to bottle things up and i feel like ive let a monster loose in my head and i can't lock it back up. for days now ive felt like there's this gaping hole in the center of my chest that needs to be filled, so bad i want to stab it. im jumpy and anxious and im always on the verge of a panic attack feeling as if i can't breathe. i can barely sleep now. i thought trying to work through it all would help me come to terms with it but this is the worst ive ever felt about it. and there was even a time i told my best friend about Jeff and being groomed and she told me to go to the police because i have his phone numbers (likely burners, honestly) and that i should do something about it because the statute of limitations will be up in a few years. i haven't done anything because i dont have a shred of proof it ever even happened at all, and i honestly wish i could forget it ever happened.
i feel worse than ever. i even downloaded grindr in an attempt to try being hypersexual again to feel better thinking some sort of exposure therapy might help but i think i just made matters worse. i feel like everything that's happened to me is my fault. i feel as though there's repressed memories that hold the key, but i could be wrong and if i am, why do i feel like this? i came here because i have no one in my life who could understand. i have very few friends and my family doesn't know any of this ever happened in the first place. i dont know how to heal. i dont want to relapse and cut myself again (im 3 years clean) but it's my oldest coping mechanism for when ive felt this bad. i haven't relapsed yet but im worried i might because i used it for when i felt like this. and i used to drink but im sober. im scared to talk to a therapist because what if im told all that happened really is my fault? that im to blame for my own trauma? i don't know what id do. any advice is greatly appreciated.
TLDR: turning 18 has forced me to evaluate my fear of sex and intimacy due to former abuse and trauma and i haven't been able to cope or figure out how to face how im feeling about it all
submitted by tiredmochi to adultsurvivors [link] [comments]
2020.08.10 19:12 Infamous-Highlight53 Hidden camera parents sex
Holy sh*t this is much longer than I expected.Hey guys!
Before you decide to read this or not, the purpose of this post is to get a suggestion on what system to use or which systems to mash together. But any suggestion on any topic is really appreciated. Of you want you can take any world-building ideas too.
I will now list some tags, so you can decide if you want to read this ramble.
Persona, Neverwhere, World of Darkness, Savage Worlds, Don't Rest Your Head, Deadlands, Carl Jung, Horror, Mystery
2020.08.01 18:27 0qulus Hidden camera parents sex
those with scorpio ascendant will notice you before you notice them.. they are the one who seems to always be looking right AT YOU, when you turn to look at them.. the first thing to be recognized, ofcourse, will be their eyes.. not so much the colour, or the shape.. but the DEPTH.. the gaze which penetrates into the depths of ones soul
there will be ‘power’ in their eyes and a magnetic quality about their intense stare, that lures you in.. and disarms you, in some fashion or another.. scorpio rising natives have a sharpness to their eyes.. sometimes this may be viewed as suspicion.. and in a way it is... they forever seem to be ‘sizing up’ their surroundings, and those around them
they notice everything.. always.. without exception; in their physical environment especially, but also within their energetic field..
in their 3rd dimensional vessel, they can typically be known for having ‘staring problems’ or ‘undressing others with their eyes’.. this can be a turn on if the attention is desired by the object of their attention.. or downright creepy if the attention is unwanted.. some unevolved scoprio risings may be liken to the stereotypical ‘peeping tom’ by some
they very much enjoy observing others,but rarely will this be a two way street for the scorpio ascendant native.. another thing one may notice about them, is that their eyes can have a shifty or ‘beady’ look to them.. they may always seem like they aren’t giving the whole story or are hiding some important detail..
one of scorpio rising folks biggest turn-ons is portraying the selves as slick or mysterious... a part of them is innately hidden behind a veil of their own emotional undercurrents.. they feel many things yet rarely, if ever, allow others to have access to their emotional depths.. this is why they can appear secretive
scorpio is fixed water, and this energy upon the ascendant dislikes their emotional nature being ‘on display’... the fixed nature allows their feelings to run deep, yet remain still upon the surface.. a lake appears calm upon inspection from afar, but one may never know everything lurking underneath that smooth facade
this is the energetic output of those with scorpio on the rise.. one will ‘feel’ them coming.. before they actually make their way to you.. their energetic vibration tends to speak more powerfully than any words they could possibly say..
scorpio rising may have a reputation as being intimidating.. their presence can sometimes be felt even if they are not physically there.. one dares not attempt to defy the scorpio ascendant individual.. they may be the boss that all of the co-workers fear.. or the parent that the children dare not cross..
one may notice themselves tiptoeing around the scorpio rising native.. physically AND metaphorically.. if said scorpio native is not at home, and dislikes dirty socks being strewn upon the floor, you can bet that their housemates will not be leaving any around for potential ammo
it isn’t that the native of this placement is intentionally trying overpower or control others in their immediate surroundings (although in some cases,especially if unevolved, they might be) scorpio rising folks just seem to have the word ‘power’ etched into their aura.. they cannot help coming of authoritative or ‘in control’
these characteristics may be watered down a bit if neptune or venus is conjunction their ascendant.. and the individual of this placement may appear ‘powerfully soft spoken’.. the type of fellow who uses not, many words, but when they do speak,you can rest assured that others will listen
if a malefic planet is conjunction the ascendant, the scorpio rising native will come off as a force not to be reckoned with.. saturn gives the ‘serious, silent type’.. mars, the aggressive antagonist.. whilst uranus can make the scorpio ascendant appear slightly ‘unhinged’.. pluto on the ascendant may exhibit ‘power play’ type of energy, preferring to intentionally dominate those around them
physically, those with scorpio on the rise may appear to have ‘thundery’ eyes.. again, their eyes will remain the focal point, especially upon first meeting them.. their facial expression may seem to constantly be one of seriousness or veiled discontent, even if they are happy..
the smile may not ‘reach the eyes’ in some cases.. and many times it may seem as though they are ‘fake smiling’, especially in pictures.. the facial movements may have a ‘wooden’ quality about them, as if it is unnatural for their face to convey any type of emotion.. ‘stone face’ is a common term we would suggest here
these types are excellent at delivering the ‘smoldering’ look to the camera, and this gives them a sultry sex appeal which looks sinister.. a bit dangerous.. this is someone who ‘looks like’ they’d be good in bed.. be them celibate or promiscuous
there might be a narrowness to their facial features.. narrowed eyes, seeming to be in a constant state of discernment, a narrowed jaw line, which may seem to always appear clenched... their hands even, may be displayed narrowly as well, as these folks tend to clench their fists alot, many times without realizing it..this may subconsciously suggest their internal power, ready to ‘battle’ and opponent if need be.. also, the arms may be noticeably crossed in front of them when speaking to others whom they do not know very well.. this is a protective posture, subliminally guarding their internal workings
scorpio rising natives tend to ‘evolve’ many, many times throughout their lifetime.. they ARE evolution.. this is what they signed up for..
these transformations typically take place within their emotional psyche, spilling outward into their physical environment.. not necessarily in their physical appearance, but more in the energetic way they carry themselves
they go through many heavy emotional upheavals, where their character seems to transform every few years or so.. what they desire will be different.. how they behave in public will be different... how they carry themselves will be different
one may have known a scorpio rising native from 5 years ago who is not that same person today.. something will have changed them.. transformed them somehow, in any shape, form or fashion you can think of.. the catalyst of this transformation will typically be DEEP.. heavy.. powerful
scorpio ascendant folks can handle alot while making it look easy... not many around them will see them vulnerable or ‘weak’ as they handle their tribulations.. this is the secrecy we mentioned earlier.. they play their cards methodically, and hold them close to their heart.. no one will know the next move the scorpio rising native will make until they hold their hand out for all to see.. this is the poker player who seems to get a ‘bad hand’ every round until the end when they win the jackpot.. no one had any inkling of what was going on behind the scenes until the scorpio rising individual made it be known
this is how they operate.. calculated at every turn.. cunning.. shrewd in their dealings with others until they make their move.. it is rare indeed to witness this water sign open up about the way they are feeling.. and one ought to feel privileged if a scorpio rising individual shows their ‘soft side’ to you.. these moments may be few and far between.. though when (if) they do open up... you can believe that it will be genuine and also, intense.. be prepared to handle it.. the level of feeling they keep suppressed may shock you
scorpio ascendant is deeply sensitive at their core, though externally one may never know it.. they are slow to trust and here is a tendency to brood in their emotions, especially painful ones... they are the type to ‘hurt so good’.. and many may be found listening to heartbreak songs and pining for a love they secretly dont want to have, because if they had it,there would be nothing to pine for
the unevolved version of this placement especially may be accused of ruminating in regret, wallowing in heartache and exploiting unrequited love...
scorpio risings have a high psychically charged energy about them.. and distant loved ones may ‘feel’ the presence of the scorpio rising when they are being thought of by said individual.. many times the scorpio rising native will resort to sending telepathic mind messages to someone they love, be it consciously or subconsciously.. if you are close to (or have been close) to a scorpio ascendant, you may sometimes know they are thinking of you, even if they are not physically with you.. their strong emotions for you will be relayed instantaneously via the ethers
the evolved scorpio rising native is loyal to a fault.. they will literally lay down their life for someone they love.. they crave long lasting commitments and are immensely turned off by frivolities expressed from a potential partner.. these individuals want to possess their partners soul.. they desire an object of obsession and may become ‘addicted’ to their partner in unhealthy ways if they are unevolved
scorpio risings will be noticed much more so by their energy than any physical characteristics, aside from their eyes.. their intensity whirls around them in a seductive auric dance, and they may have many admirers around them.. none of whom that spark their interest
the scorpio ascendant individual dislikes overt attention from others, and finds ‘open book’ personalities rather boring.. they seek depth in all that they do.. and at parties they are most likely found sticking close to someone they feel close to, or playing with a pet..
those with the sun or jupiter conjunction their ascendant may be more outgoing and talkative than their peers, however they will not be found disclosing their personal information to people they have just met
scorpio ascendant folks are the definition of ‘the slow burn’... so being nosy or attempting to pry them open will only trigger them to become arrogant, or push you away.. its best to let them open up organically, which may take some time, but will be well worth the wait
their magnetism and depth make them interesting conversationalists once one gets to know them.. and their loyalty and devotion can seem heaven sent.. one cannot ask for a a more doting partner, faithful friend, or protective counterpart..
scorpio rising folks are secretly sentimental, and will remember every detail about those whom they care about.. they are likely to surprise you with your favorite takeout, when you didnt think they remembered what type of food you always crave
the natives of scorpio rising are most comfortable among cherished family members and close friends, and enjoy spending quality time with those they care about.. they arent likely to entertain shallow conversations, as they seek depth out of every experience.. they want to know you.. the real you, underneath your human facade
one way to tell that a scorpio rising individual is into you, is when they ask you personal questions.. deep personal questions.. not in an ‘im being nosy’ manner, but in an ‘im trying to understand you’ way.. if one is loved by a scorpio rising individual, know that this is an everlasting love and the depth of their devotion cannot even be fathomed by most others
they want to know every nuance of someone whom they are interested in.. they want to experience every emotion that is possible whilst traveling in a physical body.. they want to dive deep into the unchartered emotional currents that dwell within us all..
they are the true, natural psychologists, detectives and revolutionaries.. they want to explore every emotion, break it apart, heal it, and put it back together again, stronger than before
they are the resilient ones, experiencing their life through emotional intensity... they make seemingly tough times look like a breeze.. their mission is to observe, to understand, to fix, and to transform
submitted by 0qulus to astrology [link] [comments]
2020.07.31 02:24 CarlB1961 Hidden parents camera sex
On the night of October 23, 1991 in a suburban neighborhood in San Diego, California, a family of four was brutally murdered in their home. The nature of the killings were so horrific that the details were never fully released to the public. The police investigated the crime for months, but no leads, suspects or motives were ever discovered and eventually the case went cold.
In May of 2016, the (then) current owners of the home were doing renovations and made a discovery hidden behind a base board in an upstairs bedroom: a dusty old VHS cassette tape bearing a yellowed label, on which was printed in faded but still legible handwriting: "Voices in the Attic."
Curious, the homeowners purchased a secondhand VCR in order to play the tape. After viewing its contents, they notified the San Diego Police Department, who confiscated the tape. After viewing the VHS tape themselves, the Police Department contacted the FBI.
The contents of that tape have never been made public...until now.
(The tapes opens with a close-up of the face of a young girl who appears to be roughly fourteen years of age. Subsequently, she has been identified as the daughter of the deceased original owners of the home. The footage indicates she is being recorded on a mid-grade video camcorder. The camera angle suggests she is holding the camera, filming herself. Behind her we can see a typical middle-class teenage girl's bedroom. In the upper corner of the frame we can see the red REC icon, and at the bottom is the timestamp: 11:58P.M OCT. 23 '91. She begins speaking, addressing the camera in a whisper.
GIRL: ...Okay, here we go. I think it's recording. So, it's almost midnight. They're all asleep. It should start again soon. I'm borrowing my Dad's camcorder to get this all. Mom and Dad still don't believe me about the voices I've been hearing coming from the attic the last three nights. I'm going to get them on tape this time so I have proof.
(The camera view changes as she switches it around, aiming it up at the ceiling. The timestamp now reads: 11:59P.M.)
GIRL (off-camera): Okay, one more minute...
(Timestamp changes to: 12:00A.M. Immediately upon doing so, low, faint, whispering voices begin speaking overhead, muffled by the ceiling. Barely audible, the voices speak rapidly in unison, apparently amongst themselves. No words are discernable, nor are the sexes or the number of the speakers.)
GIRL (off-camera, a whisper): There's more of them tonight.
(Several minutes pass. The low, hissing voices continue to murmur rapidly in apparent discussion as the girl continues to film her bedroom ceiling. Suddenly, there is another sound from above: the creak of a floorboard. Then another. Footsteps.)
GIRL (off-camera, startled): They're moving around. That hasn't happened before.
(The footsteps continue, slowly and steadily moving across the ceiling. The camera moves as the girl follows to track them.)
GIRL (off-camera, to herself): What are they doing?
(The footsteps move beyond her bedroom. Camera records the action as the girl creaks open her bedroom door and sneaks into the darkened upstairs hallway. The only illumination comes from the camcorder light. The camera is aimed at the hallway ceiling, moving down it as the girl follows the footsteps. The camera centers on an attic trapdoor in the ceiling and holds on it. The footsteps come to the trap door and abruptly stop. Several moments pass in silence. Then the trapdoor moves slightly, rattling, as if something is trying to open it from the other side.)
GIRL (off-camera, audibly alarmed): Oh God. They're trying to come down...
(The attic trap door starts to lower. The girl panics and shrieks.)
GIRL (off-camera, screaming): NO! MOM! DAD!
(The camera jerks around, shaking wildly as the girl races down the hallway.)
GIRL (off-camera): MOM! DAD!
(She arrives at a door and flings it open, entering a dark bedroom. She flips the light on. A couple in their late thirties, subsequently identified as the deceased homeowners, are asleep in bed. They jerk awake suddenly, looking up groggily in the camera's direction.)
WOMAN (bleary, confused): What's going on...?
MAN (rubs his eyes, notices the camera): What are you doing with my camcorder?
GIRL (off-camera, panicked): IT'S HAPPENING AGAIN! THEY'RE TRYING TO COME DOWN FROM THE ATTIC!
(The couple stare at her for a moment, uncomprehendingly, then exchange a look.)
MAN (frustrated, to the girl): Christ, Melissa, not this again!
GIRL (off-camera): They're trying to come down!
MAN (irritated): Melissa, don't you think you're a little too old to be scared of the boogeyman?
GIRL (off-camera, pleading): Daddy, I swear!...
MAN: It's after midnight! I have to be at work at nine!
(Suddenly, a boy's voice speaks behind the girl.)
BOY (off-camera, groggy): What's happening?
(The girl shrieks, startled, and whips the camera around, revealing a boy who appears to be roughly ten years of age, in pajamas, standing in the doorway. His hair is ruffled and he is rubbing his eyes. Subsequently, he has been identified as the son of the deceased homeowners.)
WOMAN (to the boy): It's alright, Cody, go back to bed. Your sister just had another bad dream.
GIRL (off-camera, nearly hysterical): NO! IT'S NOT A DREAM! THEY'RE REAL! THEY'RE IN THE ATTIC! I CAN HEAR THEM!
(The girl breaks down sobbing. Her parents stare at her, then exchange concerned looks.)
WOMAN (to the man): Jack, maybe you should go take a look. Just to make her feel better.
MAN (relenting, still irritated): Fine. I'll go up to the attic and take a look, but after that I don't want to hear anymore about this.
(The man gets out of bed, puts on his slippers and heads across the room, passing the camera, to the door.
GIRL (off-camera, alarmed): Daddy, wait...!
MAN: I'm going to show you once and for all there's nothing up there to be afraid of.
GIRL (off-camera, terrified): NO, DADDY! Don't go up there! They'll--
MAN (cuts her off, raising his voice, exasperated): ENOUGH! Just stay here with your mother till I come back. Or come with me if you want! You'll see it's just your imagination!
(He exits the bedroom, heading down the hallway and out of sight. Several minutes pass. Camera remains focused on the empty doorway. All we hear is the girl's frightened, uneven breathing and the Woman in the background speaking in a soft, inaudible voice to the boy.)
WOMAN (off-camera, speaking to no one in particular): What's taking him so long? It's been ten minutes.
GIRL (off-camera, voice quivering): They must have gotten him.
WOMAN (angrily): Melissa, stop talking like that! You're scaring your brother!
(Camera swings away from the door and focuses on the woman, still in bed, the young boy standing beside her. The woman is frowning at the camera, but the boy is staring past her, at the bedroom door, with a worried expression.)
GIRL (off-camera, to the woman): Then where is he, Mom???
WOMAN: He's probably...(pauses, hearing something) Listen!
(Footsteps can be heard steadily and slowly approaching the bedroom.)
WOMAN (clearly relieved) Here he comes right now. I told you there was nothing to worry about.
(The girl aims the camera back at the doorway. The footsteps get louder and closer, then stop abruptly just outside the bedroom. A moment passes. Nothing happens.
WOMAN (off-camera): Jack?
(The man's head slowly appears, peering in the doorway at an odd angle, the rest of him out of view. There is a strange smile on his face.)
MAN (in a perfectly normal voice): It's me.
WOMAN (off-camera): What took you so long? Did something happen?
(The man's head just continues to smile. He is staring in the woman's general direction, but not directly at her. He doesn't blink.)
GIRL (off-camera, uneasy): Dad?
WOMAN (off-camera, concerned): Jack? Are you alright? What's wrong with you?
MAN: I think he was quite surprised.
WOMAN (off-camera, confused): What are you talking about? Who was quite surprised?
(Blood begins to trickle out of the man's mouth. As he speaks, his voices changes, becoming unnaturally deep and raspy.)
MAN (distorted voice): Your husband.
(The man's head comes further into view, and it can be seen that his head has been severed raggedly at the neck. A bare, misshapen arm appears, shoved up through the head and manipulating the jaw in a manner similar to a ventriloquist dummy.
At this point, all three of them -- the woman, girl and boy -- begin to scream in horror and speak all at once, over each other.)
WOMAN (off-camera, screaming): OH, GOD! JACK!
BOY (off-camera, screaming): DAD!
GIRL (off-camera, screaming): NO!
(The camera shakes and trembles as the girl backs rapidly away from the doorway. A figure appears and enters the bedroom. Only glimpsed for a second on camera, the figure seems to be tall and skeletal, with unnaturally long, thin arms. It is nude, and its skin is blistered and disfigured. At this point all three begin to scream in terror. Pandemonium ensues. The girl abandons the camera, which drops to the floor, the image momentarily distorting. The camera continues to record at a low, static angle, filming the bare feet of the figure as it crosses the room, out of view, in the direction of the family. Several other pairs of bare feet enter the room behind it and head in the same direction.)
WOMAN (off-camera, screaming): RUN!
BOY (off-camera, terrified): MOMMY!
GIRL (off-camera, screaming): GET AWAY FROM ME! DON'T TOUCH ME! MOM, HELP!
(Sounds of a violent struggle. This goes on for almost two minutes.
Abruptly, the footage cuts to black as if the camcorder had been turned off. Several minutes pass in blackness, then the footage resumes, now recording in the girl's bedroom. The timestamp at the bottom now reads: 3:00A.M OCT. 24, '91. The camcorder, now held by an unknown person, shows the girl, bloody and bruised, bound to her bed, her hands tied to the headboard above her, her feet tied to the bedposts at the foot of the bed. Her mouth has been gagged. Her face is streaked with tears, and she is whimpering, eyeing the camcorder fearfully. Muffled screams of pain and horror can be heard coming from somewhere else in the house. The camcorder zooms in to a close-up of her face.
UNNATURALLY DEEP VOICE (off-camera, the same voice that spoke before.) I've got some bad news, and some really bad news for you, Melissa. The bad news is Heaven isn't real. The really bad news is, hell is.
(The girl's eyes widen with terror at something she sees off-camera and she tries to scream through her gag.
Abruptly, the camcorder cuts off.)
The owners of the house sold it not long after discovering the tape. It currently still sits on the market, unoccupied.
submitted by CarlB1961 to nosleep [link] [comments]
2020.07.30 15:45 MarkdownShadowBot Hidden camera parents sex
Hi sikappu_marunthu, you're not shadowbanned, but 61 of your most recent 87 comments/submissions were removed (either automatically or by human moderators).
asktrp on 21 Jul 20 (1pts):
i smell a wannabe simp here
asktrpon 20 Jul 20 (1pts):
send some one else diskpic.
kuttichevuruon 19 Jul 20 (1pts):
i remember that Thai-Lee's face and i end up exercising one more hour out of rage on himஒன்னு போனால் மற்றோன்று வரும். உன் மேம்பாட்டில் கவனம் செலுத்து.
kuttichevuruon 19 Jul 20 (1pts):
பாட் அவர்களே, இந்த பையனை மன்னித்து விடுங்கள்
kuttichevuruon 19 Jul 20 (1pts):
homeopathy is placebo
kuttichevuruon 18 Jul 20 (1pts):
yaaru saami ivaru
asktrpon 18 Jul 20 (1pts):
the 2nd & 3rd links keeps reloading in loops
kuttichevuruon 18 Jul 20 (1pts):
now whites are stealing our intellectual property
asktrpon 17 Jul 20 (9pts):
baker at a small bakery, cudnt't confim this :(
kuttichevuruon 17 Jul 20 (0pts):
we need similar protection for our plants from these vegan fuckers.
kuttichevuruon 17 Jul 20 (1pts):
kuttichevuruon 17 Jul 20 (3pts):
his single the gethu bullshit is highly misleading to youths. i stopped listening his music since then.
kuttichevuruon 17 Jul 20 (21pts):
Sundar C is the most underrated director, after Ambe Sivam, kollyvood forced him to make movies with milfs and nubiles
kuttichevuruon 16 Jul 20 (6pts):
WHy these fuckers spreak idiotic opinions and having the pic of honourable voc.
kuttichevuruon 16 Jul 20 (23pts):
dei 20s kd, nee jolly ah irunthatha solli kaati engalala verupethira.
kuttichevuruon 15 Jul 20 (3pts):
right side ullavaru arms ah murukurau
asktrpon 15 Jul 20 (1pts):
how ofter do these girls getting born again ? after every 2 sexes?
kuttichevuruon 15 Jul 20 (2pts):
kuttichevuruon 15 Jul 20 (5pts):
indiaon 14 Jul 20 (2pts):
dont rant here like a cunt, there are lot of riskier things in the world to try out.
asktrpon 14 Jul 20 (0pts):
Part-time Uber driver.with a lambo and a hidden camera. so that you can post follow up videos
asktrpon 14 Jul 20 (3pts):
indiaon 14 Jul 20 (4pts):
two gas leaks an then this !
kuttichevuruon 13 Jul 20 (0pts):
asktrpon 13 Jul 20 (2pts):
kuttichevuruon 13 Jul 20 (1pts):
trisha got drilled by sidney sladen, her costume designer
kuttichevuruon 13 Jul 20 (1pts):
ஐயா, இன்னும் இதன் கண்ணோட்டம் புரியவில்லை. யார் இவர்கள் , ஏன் இந்த கான்செல் கல்ச்சர் , எதற்காக எதிப்புகள் ?
kuttichevuruon 13 Jul 20 (2pts):
kuttichevuruon 12 Jul 20 (-3pts):
நீங்கள் ஆங்கிலம் பேசுவது எனக்கும் எரிச்சலாக இருக்கிறது
kuttichevuruon 11 Jul 20 (1pts):
காசா பணமா, ஒரு 100000 sq ft வீடு ஒன்னு போட்டு விடுங்களேன்.
kuttichevuruon 11 Jul 20 (12pts):
ஏசுநாதர் உன்னை மன்னிக்கவே மாட்டார். நீ சாத்தானின் அடியில் விழுந்துவிட்டாய். இருப்பினும் என்னிடம் வா , உன்மேல் பரிசுத்த ஆவியை தூவி விட்டு உன் பாவங்களை போகச்செய்கிறேன் . அல்லேலூயா !!
kuttichevuruon 11 Jul 20 (1pts):
2.5K katinaanam ipo 20K eduthutaan nu soldraanun frnd makaa praudu
kuttichevuruon 11 Jul 20 (3pts):
the world is divided into two, those sucking new18 and those sucking maridas
indiaon 11 Jul 20 (-15pts):
op stfu and dont escalate the situation. you are being a jerk here. Your dad will eventually leave the other woman, if not he wudve already left you and gone by now.
kuttichevuruon 11 Jul 20 (8pts):
indiaon 11 Jul 20 (2pts):
they can pay the actual salary instead of giving them shares.
kuttichevuruon 10 Jul 20 (35pts):
you can technically eat both
kuttichevuruon 10 Jul 20 (2pts):
Those fuckers borrow stuff from gults and even urdu due to Arcot influence Chennai dont do original content
indiaon 10 Jul 20 (1pts):
these are gold !
kuttichevuruon 10 Jul 20 (2pts):
+3 பார் டீ.எல்.டி.ஆர்
kuttichevuruon 10 Jul 20 (22pts):
its tamil da dubuku. maduraiku thekka vanthale nee kandaroli tha
indiaon 10 Jul 20 (4pts):
lmao, i cant say if you are a simp or a troll.
kuttichevuruon 10 Jul 20 (6pts):
bank transaction na, un bank ta solli fraud transaction nu complaint panna sollu, some banks will act as mediatory, and try to solve disputes. vera vali illa, police complatint thavira. But, police...
kuttichevuruon 10 Jul 20 (3pts):
fuck the vadakanuga
kuttichevuruon 10 Jul 20 (3pts):
'classes' were there in nearley all historic nations, in India this 'class' evolved deeper and rooted and became caste
kuttichevuruon 09 Jul 20 (6pts):
யாரவது இ.ல.ஐம்5, மேரிதாஸ் ?
indiaon 08 Jul 20 (2pts):
typo, Ranganathan Swamy temple
kuttichevuruon 08 Jul 20 (2pts):
Red-light therapy 🤷
kuttichevuruon 08 Jul 20 (3pts):
Saalna Free aa kudupaangala saarVarapora aatchila sattom kondu vanthu, intha theera pirachanaiya theerkurom
DMDK Ambassador TN Chapter
kuttichevuruon 08 Jul 20 (3pts):
kuttichevuruon 08 Jul 20 (2pts):
kuttichevuruon 08 Jul 20 (5pts):
they act for free, their parents get the money
kuttichevuruon 07 Jul 20 (3pts):
mango is mankai in filipino. their language still has few tamil loan words.
kuttichevuruon 07 Jul 20 (3pts):
Yesunathare intha pillaiyai saathanidam irunthu meelungal. Amen.
kuttichevuruon 07 Jul 20 (1pts):
Captain Vijayakanth is my real father, all are fake
kuttichevuruon 07 Jul 20 (1pts):
adutha aatchi DMDK one and only
kuttichevuruon 07 Jul 20 (4pts):
kurivi ah pogalam . Watch an learn how Vijay anna goes to Malaysia using a futuristic travel technique called Kuruvi (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuruvi)
kuttichevuruon 07 Jul 20 (1pts):
Encounter_Ekambaram neenga 70's kids ah
kuttichevuruon 06 Jul 20 (3pts):
cooked up some real gangsta shit !
kuttichevuruon 06 Jul 20 (1pts):
ponnunga podura post la romba yosikathingaSubmissions:
kuttichevuruon 11 Jul 20 (27pts):
Petition to change casteist names
2020.07.26 23:12 vie-ta-vie Hidden camera sex parents
Sorry google traduction again, I try my best to be clear I will don’t talk about how my children live the situation. It’s hard for everybody. Me, C, my children, my step mom my step father and her sister know everything, and mini gansters and you.
I'm not very familiar with how reddit works, I don't know anything about you. I am not a writer and have never had a notebook to write in my life. However I found that the time that I wrote my feelings live helped me and to read your opinions your criticisms, your advice, your experiences and especially the good words that allowed me to have a new look on this dark episode of my life. I haven't told anyone about the situation, and I liked the anonymity Reddit gave me.
I admit I made some mistakes because I was a beginner. To respond to the many criticisms about why I let my wife go to the spa, I respond that I think freedom of choice is a priority, if I had intervened I would not have seen the scale and the deep idea that was hiding in her. It will have allowed me to discover how after all the human being can hide deep desires. I know from this that the love she gave to our relationship was superficial. I don't doubt she loves me but not in the way I thought she loved me.
I think on the patio At the party i saw it as a challenge, In the weeks after C, was energetic, loving, the best mum. She had just had an adrenaline rush, a sudden surge in her confidence. I’m an adrenaline junkie, I’m an athlete, I coach athletes with the goal of being successful adults. My life is exciting and spectacular. I'm an tdah hp. so I'm taking up space. I am interested in everything and I can be very passionate.
She comes from a background that is very conservative in their values, it is two parents who have strong behavior. For the past few years she has been trying to take her place with me, but especially in front of others. She tries to be less swayed by the opinions of others at best; she uses their experiences to strengthen her inner thoughts. We are totally different, she is tidy, I am messy, I like to win, she, she doesn't care, me I said that to fuck no need for love she yes, in any case, for this one, we will see when this shit will pass.
I know that many would like to skip the background side, but to fully understand the rest and why of my future choices (this is not the last update. The end is likely to be memorable).
I was a bartender while studying at the biggest bar in my small town. During the week I was studying in Montreal. One ordinary night like Jan 11, 1997, I saw a girl I had never seen, all evening I waited for her to come get a drink. She never came because she was not drinking, the manager came to my bar, we were talking and I saw that she was going to leave, I asked my manager to replace me because I needed to talk to her. I walked over and said, I know I'm not wearing the most believable outfit, but are you with someone right now. C: No Me: I really want to know you, then I'll give you my phone number. C. Why not.
Paf the exact moment that started our life together, all thanks to the fact that my manager came to talk to me and I had the chance to take her before she left. Through This Window of Opportunity, created by the universe a love story and children were born. My beautiful did not have it easy, often absent, I worked evenings, she worked 40 hours, administrative assistant and then it was dinner, homework, washing and going to bed. Then my father hanged himself during a deep depression. I had a lot of difficulty getting back on my feet, I felt like nothing was real, that I was a sheep that follows a flock and runs its life. We burned our economy due to my existential awareness. C .. never know full, always sweet loving, radiant and gorgeous. I am the second man in her life, the first was in high school. Our couple before this event was solid, I never loved my wife like 1 month ago, times are changing and the children have grown up and we are having a good time.
11:45 pm my daughter is slipping into the bathroom and my wife is crying over her life. I'm on the edge of the door. C. Trying to blame it on a menopausal hormone attack blah blah, it's okay with the kids, I think they make the connection with the weekend. Finally everyone is crying for C's hormone. I take her to our room. I am on alert but I find that the situation is still poorly chosen. She seemed to be demolished, she didn't want to tell me, so I told her,: I love you C. Tomorrow morning you are going to get up and tell me the whole truth.
The children were leaving for the weekend. It’s up after they left. I was incredibly calm and surprisingly slept very well. She had all puffy eyes, she still had to cry before she got out of the room, she had a coffee and left for for the outdoor swing. No look in my direction. I followed her and asked, tell me? C .: she says nothing Me: tell me please I need to hear you tell me truth C.: What truth, that it is you? Me: what do you want me to know, tell me the truth. C. At the Spa I flirted with another man Me: flirting followed by sex I imagine C. No Well at that moment I unfortunately realized that my life had just taken a turn. She was trying to hide the truth with another. The person I had known and loved, had never really existed. Me: C. Please tell me the truth C. We kissed and touched Me: Now you'll listen to me, I know everything C. So tell me Me: the only truth is that you hooked up like a luxury whore for a spa weekend with a mini gangster. C. She is shock, Me: now can you tell me the true She is wordless nothing can come out of her mouth she looks everywhere as if she wants to escape Me: did you fuck with him She nods to say no C: listen, it's more complicated than that Me: complicate, complicate, did you screw with him yes or no calisse C: I'm sure I didn't fuck with it, but I'm sure he used date-rape drugs because I remember a few things. Me: At this moment I explode, you're going to blame it on the date rape drug that you were there. All alone with him. Ostie the bitch.
C. is no use talking to you if you scream and insult me Me. No, but you're crazy to tell me what to do with you She gets up and goes to take refuge in the bathroom. Me. I take a break, for me it's over, over over, I'm not sure if I want to know the rest of the story and the pictures stay in my head forever. I sit there for almost 2 hours before she comes back. C. Here she tells me everything, the terrace, the texts, the price, the girl friends of the spa and the evening of dinner. How she would have liked not to be there anymore and blah blah blah. C. When I returned from the Kayak he was in the room. He told me he couldn't get through the night, he had to leave at 11pm. They seemed to be in a hurry. I took my shower, got dressed and we talked about the beauty of the place. Then he had prepared 6 Patron tequila shots at the café. It was really strong. At first I thought the shooting gave me a euphoric effect and that I felt good and partying, I invited my friends over and noticed that he was not happy. For the next few hours it's dark, later I was in the bathroom in a swimsuit vomiting. The bathroom was locked. The next morning I woke up like the next day before. I sincerely regret having been there, I do not know who took me could you forgive me. Me: No it's over. C. That's not all, I have to show you a few things She pulled out her cell phone and showed me an email she received that caused her panic. It was mini gangsters writing to her with a fake yahoo email account.
Dear C, unfortunately we were unable to close the contract during our business trip. I found our understanding to be good for both parties. During our discussion in the bathroom that I filmed incidentally, I almost made my final proposition. We cut our discussion much too soon. However, I remain hopeful that we can sort this out so as not to lose sight. Friday the 31 11am at the marina ... I suggest you sign the contract quickly. Like in the original deal, you can bring me $ 3000 in compensation if you don't sign. I will show you the pictures of us in the spa before putting on instagram. I would hate to create unease. See you soon
The bitch tried to go and pay her debt in person to keep her lie, unbelievable, I didn't care about any email, at the start of the day she tried to cover it up and finally went to sleep with him aaa bitch. I couldn't take it anymore, I politely asked her to forward the email, pack her bags and go to her sister's house. I told her never to try to contact him and me again. Her tear that didn't bother me, no emotion. Before she left I only said C. I knew from the start because I had tapes of you and him at the party, i look at your msg and for the fake tikets for the spa. She only answered me, why you let me go. I answered, to get to know you better.
I found myself alone on Friday afternoon I called the police to meet with an investigator I called a lawyer to find out what to do Police told me, investigate what, your wife voluntarily went to the spa The lawyer, it will be very difficult because the test for drugs should have been done the morning after and the email is anonymous you just do not forward and when you see the photos maybe it will be possible to prove a few things.
Then I managed to join 2 of her spa girlfriends. The first to find that alcohol seemed to change her behavior, she easily lost her balance. She told me she was in the spa and mini gansters had their hands all over the place. She left around 9:30 p.m. The second, she told me that the man didn't seem happy that C. invited them for supper, that C. seemed to be affected by the wine very quickly and that she worried about it. She looked for her in the bathroom and saw them in close door, but she got out quickly. Then she heard C say stop several times in the spa and that's where she went to carry her to her bedroom bathroom and lock the door. She did not discuss the incident again.
Regardless I don't care, it won't make any difference, I didn't talk to C. But I know she's knocked out.
I’m waiting for Friday, I’m getting ready, I’m trying to find myself a little hidden camera. At the end if it's worth it I will put the instagram photos and the video of our final meeting. I'm not really kidding myself at the moment.
submitted by vie-ta-vie to cheating_stories [link] [comments]
2020.07.18 23:42 OldmanRevived I saw three movies (The Sunlit Night, Father Soldier Son, A Nice Girl Like You)
First up was The Sunlit Night
In Norway during the summer, the night is a brief finger of dusk drawn between the day and the dawn. In her trailer, Frances (Jenny Slate) struggles for sleep. She tugs at the blackout curtains, but the sunlight streams in. Frances has already been struggling over the past few weeks, which is why she traveled from an unfulfilling life in New York City after seeing her artwork scathed, experiencing a break-up, learning that her younger sister (played by Elise Kibler) is engaged, and discovering that her parents (Jessica Hecht and David Paymer) are separating. She had to get away, and having turned down a prestigious art internship due to her ex-beau's influence, Frances went scrambling back looking for anything that was left.
She obtains an apprenticeship with Nils (Fridtjov Såheim), a quiet but temperamental artist whose latest work is a piece of installation art—a barn located within a Viking museum/village. Nils has begun the unusual project that he hopes will get him on the map again, quite literally. He’s painting a barn entirely in geometrically aligned shades of yellow. If the project turns out, the barn will be included in a nationally publicized (at least in Norway) art map of famous buildings. Frances is expected to work 12 hour days doing the grunt work needed to bring the project to completion by an unspecified deadline. The Vikings, who live in a community run by a dude from Cincinnati named Haldor (Zach Galifianakis), who commands a recreation of period life. They are just part of the reason why Frances is distracted from her long days at work.
If “The Sunlit Night” stopped there, it would make for a simple but effective understanding of an emotional and creative awakening. However, there's the other side of the movie, which concerns the happenings at Viking Village, and Yasha (Alex Sharp) enters the story. He's a suicidal young man taking the loss of his father pretty hard, and he's also forced to deal with his estranged Russian mother, Olyana (Gillian Anderson). Suddenly, there's a romantic connection between Yasha and Frances, with everything else on put the backburner to deal with people in need of finding temporary tenderness. Let me put it this way: the movie opens with one of Frances' abstract paintings being eviscerated by three critics. They find the artwork lazy, pedestrian, devoid of complexity and stripped of anything interesting. That's how I felt about the romance.
That is not the fault of the actors. Jenny Slate is wonderful in the lead role. Rather than play her as desperate or lost, she finds a unique space for Frances as someone with goals who is frustrated but not bitter and hopeful but without any overt optimism. It's a rather tricky part to pull off, as it doesn't give much room for big dramatics, and yet Slate makes it work with the force of her charm. Slate is rarely off screen in the movie, but we never for a moment tire of her presence. The supporting cast is just the right amount of quirky and authentic; the Vikings in the village settle things by community-wide debate, and they are also blessed with great verbal alacrity. They all act with a sort of natural appeal, and there are moments you will enjoy very much, but the movie still comes up short. Literally.
"The Sunlit Night" comes from a screenplay by Rebecca Dinerstein Knight, who has adapted her novel of the same name. The film unfolds in an episodic way, and themes make an appearance from time to time, but not consistently; the film is mostly about character and behavior. Although there are individual scenes of powerful acting, there doesn't seem to be a destination. That's why the conclusion is so unsatisfying: The story, having failed to provide itself with character conflicts that can be resolved with drama, turns to melodrama instead. The initial cut of the film debuted to poor reviews at the 2019 Sundance Film Festival. Since then, about 24 minutes have been removed from the running time, and you can tell that the trims haven't helped the pacing.
There are elements in the movie that click. Frances' artwork assembles areas of bold color with more detailed areas of text, figures, designs and scribbles - blueprints for a world in her mind. There are images that she keeps with her, and connects to certain faces she comes across: Renaissance art, the pre-Raphaelites, greeting cards, angel kitsch. The locations of Norway are, of course, breathtaking, adding cultural visuals to a tale about hidden beauty. In the end, however, "The Sunlit Night" is a disorganized, rambling and eccentric movie that contains some moments of truth, some moments of humor, and many moments of digression. I can't quite recommend it - it's too patched together - but I almost can; it's the kind of movie that makes you want to like it.
Next up was Father Soldier Son
When we first meet Brian Eisch in 2010, he is a longtime army soldier, a noncommissioned platoon sergeant serving in Afghanistan for months at a time while his two boys, Isaac (12) and Joey (7), stay with relatives. Their mother is not around, and Brian, even if on tour, has full custody. Both boys clearly adore their dad, who does his best, when home, to be active and present in their lives. He worries that war will change him, and not for the better. "Father Soldier Son" is a ten-year labor of love about Brian and his sons. It is a touching movie that, at first, might seem like a public service announcement, but eventually takes us into some touching personal struggles.
During that time, then-President Barack Obama sent an additional 30,000 troops to Afghanistan in hopes that a surge would swamp the Taliban and buoy the Afghan military. It didn’t. Eisch, who’d been in the army for 17 years, was stationed at Ft. Drum in upstate New York when he was deployed. Initially, we cut back and forth between Wautama, in Wisconsin, and Kunduz, in Afghanistan. But then Brian is shot, in a moment that he remembers only as "snap, snap, burn, chainsaw." His leg is badly injured, and he is brought home for medical treatment. What ensues is a harrowing series of procedures to save his leg, the result never foreordained.
From then on, Brian has trouble with communication, and there is a notable difference in his look in footage between his active duty and after his discharge. He has been emasculated. His identity is gone, and he can’t do the things he used to enjoy with his boys. You hear his voice simmer, and his face flushes with a hint of red as he noticeably starts to boil. This takes a toll on the kids. Isaac loses a little adolescent sweetness to teenage sullenness; Joey becomes a touch more wary around the camera. Some time between 2010 and 2014, Brian’s girlfriend Maria enters the picture, along with her youngest son, Jordan. She's an understated yet vital addition to the family, and they form a household in Lacona, New York.
When Brian makes the decision to have his leg amputated, and begins that new phase of life, it’s among the most illuminating in a movie with no shortage of insights. Always, the camera is there, observing the ebb and flow of life over several years. You see the alchemy by which a constantly present camera eventually becomes almost unnoticed, as people live their lives before it. What emerges in the story is the military's effect on this family, and what happens when the son follows the father's path. Brian says, believing Isaac will never make it to college, "If you do your job well in the service, you'll get promoted."
Brian is clearly a guy who still loves being a soldier. His t-shirts and caps mostly have a military theme, and the walls of his home are bedecked with military images. (We never hear him talk about politics, but you never have to wonder which side he's on). In a way, the military obsession seems preordained: Eisch explains at one point that his father really wanted a son in the military and he was the youngest, so he joined "by default." But he didn't resist it, he embraced it – and it’s obvious that he wants at least one of his sons to follow in his footsteps, even if he’s now taking those steps on one leg and a prosthetic. The documentary does a wonderful job at showing just how fast Brian's idealism turned into a bleak worldview.
The filmmakers (New York Times journalists Catrin Einhorn and Leslye Davis) shot 300 hours of film, editing it down to 99 minutes. Over time, they must have realized this was a much larger, and longer story. That means they were there for several of the dramatic turning-points in the lives of the Eischs. For them, there are reversals of fortune - life seems bleak, and then is redeemed by hope and sometimes even triumph. I was caught up in their destinies as I rarely am in a fiction thriller, because real life can be a cliff-hanger, too. It’s a gentle reproach, for the directors otherwise show great respect for their subjects’ commitment to the military life, even at the most tragic moments of the narrative (not all of which have to do with that military).
During the almost-decade that we come to know them, we become ever more conscious of their specific humanity and the universal story it tells. At times the narrative may seem too oblique; it is drama and melodrama, packaged with outrage and moments that make you want to cry. The overall impact of "Father Soldier Son" is never less than overwhelming. What I was left with was the goodness of Brian Eisch as a man. He was dealt a hand that might have destroyed him. He overcame his start and is now a wise and influential role model. He does unto his sons as he wishes his father had done unto him.
The last one was A Nice Girl Like You
The real problem with "A Nice Girl Like You" isn't its attitude; there have been plenty of funny movies about sex maniacs, and this might have been one of them. In this case, what's wrong is the sour, charmless manner in which the story is presented. This movie isn't about sex, it's about bedroom scheduling. The characters are mostly promiscuous, their genitals dictate their standards, and their lives outside the bedroom are exercises in stupendous banality. The gently wacky comedy overtakes the farce, and many of the movie's leaden, cornball choices and self-conscious distancing take away what little intended value it has. Aren't we all way beyond being shocked by sexual activities simply because they exist?
The movie begins with a straight-laced classical violinist, Lucy (Lucy Hale), who isn’t so much afraid of sex as she is unsure of how to make it work for her. Lucy's life is upended by the revelation that her somewhat skeezy boyfriend (Stephen Friedrich) watches porn, and he thinks that her disdain is actually indicative of her tense relationship with sex as a whole, saying that she is, in fact, "pornophobic." Lucy forces Jeff to choose between porn or her, and well, he packs up and leaves. She turns to the one thing that has ever given her a sense of control: a to-do list. The idea comes to her in a random, drunken flash of inspiration in the bathroom of a wedding reception where she's performing with her string quartet.
Lucy now has an obsession with learning about sex. Not only can't she get enough of it, she doesn't even pause to inquire what it is before she tries to get it. Soon she's exploring racy adult shops and trying out the wares, taking in the finest adult cinema and attending seminars of all sorts. Lucy also partakes in all of this under the guidance of her friends, Priscilla (Mindy Cohn), Nessa (Jackie Cruz) and Paul (Adhir Kalyan), all of whom somehow contribute to her porn education. As she careens from one contrived, relatively tame sequence to the next, the film never stops to examine why she’s so neurotic, so uncomfortable with expressing herself, or so tightly wound, in the first place.
Every item on the list is, of course, an opportunity for Lucy to humiliate herself and charm a dashing Australian man she keeps bumping into, Grant (Leonidas Gulaptis). You've heard of being too clever by half? Lucy and Grant are not clever enough by three-quarters. I cannot recall a single thing either character said that was worth hearing in its own right, apart from the requirements of the plot. They continue to Meet Cute at all of the departments of sexual experimentation that Lucy visits to tick off items on her list. What's more odd is that Grant, an architect, is hired to do jobs for nearly every sex shop in town. Then again, with those attics, he might be a regular.
It was a shock to discover the film is based on a real self-help book, "Pornology" by Ayn Carrillo-Gailey, published in 2007. If the story came from a real person's experiences, why is Lucy one of the more unbelievable characters in a film in a long time? The problem with Lucy is, of course, in the adaptation of the book to the screen, and the script, written by Andrea Marcellus, doesn't take the time to make Lucy a real flesh-and-blood human being that we can empathize with. Instead, Marcellus takes Carrillo-Gailey's to-do list from her book and puts this thinly-written character through the motions. The most interesting thing is how she goes along with the romantic plot with Grant, and even then, Lucy hastens to reveal herself as a shameless vixen.
The story babbles along, never achieving any remarkable narrative or emotional highs or lows, trafficking in every stale, heteronormative stereotype about men, women and sex, until all the contrived misunderstandings are ironed out, and the heroine gets the guy. But before then, the movie runs through an assembly line of routine situations, including bad jokes about eroticism and a shame-filled interaction with a sex therapist and her colleague psychic, before arriving at a sequence of astonishing bad taste. All sex comedies have scenes in which characters are embarrassed, but I can't remember one in which a set of newly purchased Ben Wa balls pop out of a woman's bits at an inopportune time.
And so on. There is not a moment that is believable, but of course the movie is not intended as realism. It is intended as comedy, but directors Chris and Nick Riedell fill the film's endless 94-minute running time with characters we don't care about, who don't care about one another except when dictated to by the screenplay, in a story nobody cares about. This is a very deeply non-caring movie. The concept is exhausted, the ideas are tired, the physical gags are routine, the story is labored, and the actors look like they can barely contain their doubts about the project.
submitted by OldmanRevived to MLPLounge [link] [comments]
2020.07.17 19:44 Bluefoot69 Hidden camera parents sex
Link to Part 1: https://www.reddit.com/PokeMoonSun/comments/gz8myalola_reimagining_part_1_the_alolan_soviet/
Link to Part 2: https://www.reddit.com/PokeMoonSun/comments/h0jju5/alola_reimagining_part_2_the_battle_against/
Link to Part 3: https://www.reddit.com/PokemonSunMoon/comments/h17nrc/alola_reimagining_part_3_the_best_serf_revolt/
Link to Part 4: https://www.reddit.com/pokemon/comments/h9llw6/alola_reimagining_part_4_lillie_is_an_enemy_of/
Link to Part 5: https://www.reddit.com/PokemonSunMoon/comments/haw003/alola_reimagining_part_5_the_alolan_branch_of/
Link to Part 6: https://www.reddit.com/PokeMoonSun/comments/hc54pn/alola_reimagining_part_6_so_left_two_three/
Link to Part 7:
Link to Part 8:
Link to Part 9: https://www.reddit.com/PokemonSunMoon/comments/hgcog1/alola_reimagining_part_9_the_strawman_is/
Link to Part 10: https://www.reddit.com/PokemonSunMoon/comments/hi49we/alola_reimagining_part_10_were_halfway_there/
Link to Part 11: https://www.reddit.com/PokemonSunMoon/comments/hjf95x/alola_reimagining_part_11_in_the_immortal_words/
Link to Part 12: https://www.reddit.com/PokemonSunMoon/comments/hl7gmb/alola_reimagining_part_12_jesus_christ_ive_made/
Link to Part 13: https://www.reddit.com/PokemonSunMoon/comments/hmbzoj/alola_reimagining_part_13_the_titles_of_these/
Link to Part 14: https://www.reddit.com/PokemonSunMoon/comments/ho7ff0/alola_reimagining_part_14_ula_ula_is_kind_of_like/
Link to Part 15: https://www.reddit.com/PokemonSunMoon/comments/hphwvz/alola_reimagining_part_15_here_comes_the_noise/
Link to Part 16: https://www.reddit.com/PokemonSunMoon/comments/hqjkex/alola_reimagining_part_16_the_red_dusk/
Link to Part 17: https://www.reddit.com/PokemonSunMoon/comments/hrui8j/alola_reimagining_part_17_the_red_sun_sets_o
Hello there. I'm here to finally finish the job. This isn't just going over things I missed, there are actually a few cool things to cover like the history of Lusamine's reign and a pseudo-Pokemon League. Without further ado, let us begin for the final time.
Now, this will mainly be about post-game and closing thoughts. This first part will be about a post-credits scene.
So, you watch the credits which would be similar to Sun and Moon in how you can see postcards of what all sorts of characters are doing. For example, we see one of Ghetsis and N sort of making up. But something noticeable is that one character doesn't get a postcard. Which one? Lusamine, that's who. She doesn't show up on any of them, but that's because of the following scene.
The credits end and the screen goes blank.
It re-opens on a news broadcast. It isn't the Alolan one that told the region about the Alolan Branch of Team Plasma, no. It's something else.
But anyway, it seems we're tuning in to the end of the broadcast. Let's listen in:
News Reporter: This has been Mauville Midnight News. Goodnight.
And the news office disappears as soon as it came, but we get to see a new image. It's the Alolan Flag(the one flown over where the Battle Royal would normally be, or in this game, where the book burning scene happened)being lowered an abridged version of the Alolan anthem being played. In fact, this whole scene is damn near identical to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njXaEZi9gDo.
But essentially, the camera zooms in and it looks and sounds like we're seeing the real life thing, not watching it through a TV screen. We spend about 30 seconds looking at this, but then the camera starts panning down to the street and Red Square. The crowd is fairly large, and we get a good look at everyone. No one is cheering, a few are having to clean their eyes with a handkerchief, but the scene is mostly emotionless. The only really striking thing from the crowd is a person dressed in all black standing by the treeline(they even have a veil covering their face), and the camera sort of closes in on them but stays focused on the crowd.
At about this time, the national anthem is over(returning to any areas that previous flew the former-Alolan flag will instead fly a tri-color banner with the Alolan islands in the center, kind of like the Mexican flag but with different colors and no eagle). Surprisingly, the crowd doesn't instantly leave. A few walk off, but many just stand there staring at the new flag. At this point, the person in all black leaves and walks southward, towards the ocean.
The camera cuts to this person walking. Once in an area without any people, they remove their veil to reveal...Lusamine, appearing once more. She continues walking, but it's weird. She's sort of limping, or some other irregular walking.
We follow Lusamine to the coast, where there is a sort of dock. It's more of a wooden structure going into the water, no boats are supposed to dock here.
But beyond that, she walks to the very end. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a bunched up cloth. She lays it out on the railing, and on the cloth is all the various decorations and medals she's worn to the many events that have happened throughout the game.
She plucks one off. She stares at it for a moment before dropping it into the ocean. She takes off another one and drops it in with less hesitation.
At this moment the camera shows the beginning of the wooden structure(the part attached to the shore), and we see none other than Lillie and Gladion walking by. They're talking, laughing, having a gay old time before Gladion looks to his side to see his mother pretty much trying to erase her past. He tugs at Lillie's shoulder and walks with him over to Lusamine, though slightly slower.
Back to Lusamine. She's picked up the pace of her medal throwing. Now she's actively throwing multiple of them into the water. There are tears in her eyes.
She keeps throwing more of them until she gets to the last one, the biggest one. It looks like Mina's "Defender of the Fatherland" medal, but more grand. It's got a big red star in the center, is even bigger, and is jewel encrusted. She grabs at it to throw it, but another hand is placed on hers. She looks to her side to see Lillie. Lusamine stares at her for a moment before crumbling to the ground in deep sobs. Lillie and Gladion sit besides their mother in empathy, and the screen goes black once more. As it does(and also a little bit before), a slightly altered form of this song(quieter and fits the mood a little bit better)plays: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TuFXeZGxmQ&t=95s.
You may be wondering why I'd choose this song, but it will all make sense when you go to 23:28 on this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IY6tGYJcOo&t=1453s.
And that's the first part, the longest one. Moving on:
The 2nd part is post-game. Remember how Exeggutor Island was closed? Well, a boat guy(who also gives you a tool to use the water bike from SwSh. Yeah, you finally get these sorts of items in the post-game)in Seafolk Village will start taking you there. On that island is a large house at the top of the hill where you'd normally get the Sun or Moon Flute. Inside this house you'll find Ghetsis, N, Colress, Lusamine, Lillie, and Gladion normally, though there's other stuff to do with them in other places. If you wanted to just regularly talk with them, this is how you do it.
Now, each of them gives certain items. For example, Gladion gives you a Pokemon he saved from the Governmental Office called Type: Null, Colress gives all sorts of Legendary Pokemon items like the DNA Splicers and White or Black orbs(you get to choose which Legendary you want, essentially), each person offers daily battles, ect. But these are mostly irrelevant to the plot, it's only just nice things to have.
The only person that gives any real story stuff is Lusamine, who pretty much asks you to play therapist with her. There are five sessions with her that pretty much detail the story of her life: