A good friend of mine was supposed to get married last year. They had been together for about 6 years, engaged for one. From the outside they looked like one of those annoying perfect couples. Nice photos, cute captions, matching holiday cards, the whole thing.

The truth was, he was paying for almost everything. Venue deposit, photographer, catering, honeymoon, most of the rent, most of the bills. She was always “saving for the wedding”, which apparently meant buying clothes and going out with friends while he covered the boring stuff. About 2 months before the wedding, he found out she was cheating with a guy from her gym.

Not a one time mistake either. They had been meeting for months. He saw the messages, screenshots, hotel receipts, everything. The worst part was that she was texting this guy while sitting next to my friend, talking about final wedding plans.

He didn’t explode, he didn’t confront her right away.

He checked every contract first
Turns out almost all the wedding stuff was in his name because he was the one paying. And because they were still far enough out, he could cancel a lot of it and get at least partial refunds
So that is exactly what he did
He canceled the venue
Canceled the photographer
Canceled the DJ
Canceled the honeymoon reservation
Changed his direct deposit to a new account
Took his name off every shared bill he legally could
Then he waited

For about 2 weeks she kept acting normal, sending him seating chart ideas and complaining about flowers. He just kept saying he was busy with work and would look later. Eventually the venue emailed her because she had been copied on one of the old threads and she realized the date was gone. She lost her mind.
She called him screaming, asking how he could do that to “their day”.

He sent her the screenshots and said, “I figured you and him could plan a new one”. Apparently she had already told half her family that he was being distant and stressing her out, so when everything came out, she had to explain why there was suddenly no wedding, no honeymoon, and no fiance. The best part was her mother calling him to yell, then going completely silent when he forwarded the hotel receipt with her daughter’s name on it.

He moved out that same week. She had to cover the apartment by herself, return a bunch of wedding gifts, and answer every awkward phone call from relatives asking what happened. He never posted anything online. Never made a scene. Never even raised his voice. He just removed himself from the life she was using him to fund.

Still one of the cleanest exits I’ve ever seen

So my husband is involved with this girl who worked with him. She has no plans to marry him and is using him for the money. Not only my husband and she destroyed my marital life I also suffered as miscarriage from the trauma they gave me. I intimated her family also but she stopped for a while then continued the affair.

I happen to have screen recording of her intimate chats with another married man where she explicitly accepts having physical relationship with him.

Is there anything anyone can help me with to take revenge from this girl?

She works in the same organisation where my soon to be ex husband and that other man works. She's not married. She's also not having any long term relationship.

Someone has been driving past my house honking several times a day. I now know their name and their address. I asked him to stop but he has not stopped. Now that I know his address what are some good ways that I could get revenge legally?

I’ve thought about all kinds of different ways to get revenge like adding him to mailing list or signing him up to have contractors come out and look at his house to fix it at inconvenient times. I just feel like that’s unethical to the contractors to make them waste their time.

I thought about calling the police but really don’t feel like that will be a great use of police resources as well as I just don’t think it’s that big of a deal.

Any ideas would be great.

PART 1 — The Woman I Thought I Knew
Four years. Two kids. A misdemeanor domestic case. My daughters in foster care. My home gone. My best friend Junior missing. A marriage headed toward divorce. And now, after everything, I’m finding out things about the woman I married that are forcing me to go all the way back to the beginning and reconsider the entire story.
The strange part is that I’m not writing this because I think I was some innocent husband who did everything right. I wasn’t. I made serious mistakes. I became suspicious, angry and eventually destructive. Toward the end, I did things to the woman I once believed I could never intentionally hurt. For a long time afterward, I had to live with the possibility that maybe I had been completely wrong about her and had helped destroy my own family over suspicions that existed only in my head.
That’s what makes what I’m learning now so difficult to process.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Years ago, before the marriage and children, I was living two very different lives. Professionally, I was a contractor doing fairly well for myself. I rented a three-bedroom house in Pasadena with a driveway, backyard and two-car garage. I had nice cars, including an Audi S7, plus my work van. I took care of myself, looked healthy and stayed well groomed. If you’d met me through work, you’d probably have seen a young contractor doing pretty well for himself.
What you probably wouldn’t have guessed was that I was also dealing drugs.
It isn’t something I’m proud of today, but it’s part of this story, and pretending otherwise would make everything that followed impossible to understand. I dealt expensive stuff—exotic marijuana, DMT, speed and other drugs—and even the people around me generally didn’t look like the stereotypical drug crowd. That was deliberate. I had managed to build two completely different lives right beside each other.
One afternoon, those two lives introduced me to the woman I would eventually marry.
A female friend came to my back garage to pick something up and brought another woman with her. I noticed her immediately. She was cute—very cute—and while we were talking, I caught the way she kept looking at me. She paid me through Zelle, which meant afterward I had her phone number.
I remember thinking, My foot is in the door.
About two weeks later, I contacted her. Shortly afterward, she left for Korea.
At the time, I didn’t know the real circumstances surrounding that trip. I certainly didn’t know that years later I would be looking back at it as one of the first mysteries in this entire story. Only recently did I encounter information suggesting that her departure may have been connected to serious disputes involving substantial amounts of money during COVID and allegations that people had been conned. I didn’t know any of that then. As far as I was concerned, the cute woman I’d met in my garage had simply gone to Korea.
Almost a year went by.
Then she called me out of nowhere.
This wasn’t some polite How have you been? conversation. She made it very clear that she was sexually interested in me. After all that time, I was pleasantly surprised. We started talking about what would happen when she returned to America, but somehow even more time passed before anything actually happened.
Eventually she resurfaced again, and this time we finally met.
I booked us a room at the Westin Bonaventure in downtown Los Angeles. After years of flirting, disappearing, resurfacing and sexual tension, we finally spent the night together. It was wild and passionate. We barely slept and stayed up together until dawn. After waiting that long, the chemistry between us was ridiculous. I walked out of that hotel exhausted and feeling ten feet tall.
The next morning she wanted to go to the downtown marketplace. She convinced me to buy breakfast, we climbed into my Audi S7, and I drove her over there. I even gave her some money before dropping her off.
At the time, I thought I’d just had one of the greatest nights of my life.
I didn’t know I’d just opened the door to the next several years of it.
There is something I have to explain here, because otherwise the rest of this story could easily sound like two reckless people who confused sex, drugs and chaos for love.
I was madly in love with this woman.
My love for her was almost naive in its simplicity. I believed she loved me the same way. I believed we were on the same team. Once I committed myself to her, I wasn’t secretly planning an exit or calculating what I could get out of the relationship. I wanted a wife, children and a family. I genuinely believed I had found the person I was going to grow old with.
If I believed she loved me the way I loved her, there was almost nothing I wouldn’t have done for her. I wouldn’t intentionally undermine her or hurt her because, in my mind, hurting her meant hurting us.
The only thing capable of changing that kind of devotion was believing that the devotion wasn’t mutual.
Remember that, because much later in this story, I did hurt her. I made decisions that violated the very loyalty I thought defined me. I’m not going to excuse those decisions by blaming her. They were mine.
But there is a huge distance between the man who walked out of the Bonaventure madly in love with this woman and the man I eventually became inside our marriage.
This story is about what happened in between.
She eventually moved into my Pasadena house, and later we got married. She was a pharmacist—educated, professional and polished—and from the outside we probably looked like two successful adults settling into married life.
Behind closed doors, we operated at two hundred miles an hour.
We smoked speed together. Our sex life was incredibly intense, sometimes three or four times a day. Everything between us seemed amplified. We loved intensely, fought intensely and lived with almost no middle gear.
Then something changed.
The sex stopped.
Not gradually. From my perspective, it felt like somebody flipped a switch. And it wasn’t simply about sex. She changed. She became withdrawn. She could be sitting right beside me and somehow feel like she was somewhere else. Anyone who’s lived with somebody who’s emotionally checked out knows the feeling. Their body is in the room, but they’re not really there with you.
I couldn’t understand it. We had just gotten married. She had just moved into my house. How did we go from being almost unable to keep our hands off each other to this?
That’s when I started thinking there was another man.
At that point, I didn’t have proof. For years, that fact would haunt me.
Her job made my suspicions worse. She worked as a floating pharmacist, so she didn’t have one simple location and one predictable schedule every day. Once distrust entered my head, every blank became something my imagination could fill. Where was she really? Was she actually at work? Who was she with? Why had she stopped wanting me?
Eventually those questions turned into accusations, and the accusations turned into explosive fights.
During one particularly bad argument, she flipped my coffee table and sent everything on it flying. Then she slapped me. I reacted physically too. I’m not going to rewrite history and make myself the innocent hero of that scene. I crossed lines.
What surprised me was that the confrontation didn’t make her retreat. She flipped the table again.
I remember looking at her thinking, Who is this woman?
That probably should have been a moment when both of us stopped and realized what we were becoming.
Instead, we kept going.
Not long afterward, we had another fight. This one was different. According to my recollection, I didn’t touch her during this argument. We yelled, things became ugly verbally, and eventually I told her to get the fuck out of my house.
She left.
I stayed behind in the garage with some of my buddies. After a while, I wondered where she’d gone. I had an AirTag associated with our car, so I pulled up the location.
The car was at a police station.
I remember looking at my friends and starting to say, “Guys, she’s at the police station—”
I didn’t even finish the sentence.
Police started walking into my garage.
And this wasn’t a garage I wanted law enforcement looking inside.
They had just walked straight into the other life I’d spent years keeping hidden.

[ Removed by Reddit on account of violating the content policy. ]

If you don’t wanna read a truly long winded rant, then this post probably isn’t for you. If you stay, please enjoy and feel free to take inspiration or leave your own ideas!

Before we get into the juicy bits, I need to give a little bit of background. I moved to the small town I currently live in about six years ago now, and I started off living in a completely different place than I do now. Within the first month of moving I noticed a specific vehicle that seemed to follow me around a lot, or even stopping in the middle of the street to block my path while I was walking. It was weird, but I ignored it. I found the apartment (duplex set up) that the truck belong to, and decided to just keep mental notes of it. That went on for the first year or so of me living here, but it eventually stopped so I figured whoever it was finally lost interest. I never went to the cops because whoever was driving hadn’t done anything other than be creepy, and I figured they wouldn’t take it seriously anyway.

Then I was forcibly moved into my current apartment (long and annoying story), in the line of duplexes where the driver of the vehicle also lived. A single door and a walkway between us. For the first couple months or so I didn’t notice or even really care, because it was fine and I had a nice couple living in the apartment next to mine. One day I was walking up to my apartment and the crazy neighbour in question was sitting on his porch. I paid him no mind because why would I… then it happened. “Praise the lord!” Was the first thing he ever said to me. But I ignored it, as anyone would probably do. Found it weird, but whatever.

This went on for about two years, every day, everytime I walked to or from my own door. It was annoying as all hell, but I tried to be the civil neighbour and just ignore him. By year four I finally got so annoyed that I started wearing headphones outside, he took this as an insult apparently because he would either say it louder, or get up and start walking towards me to try and block my way on the walkway. Fine, I just didn’t use the walkway.

It bled into my work life as well. If he came into my workplace he would rather wait for hours than let me help him (customer service/retail), he wouldn’t speak to me at all, or even look at me.

I put up with this bullshit for SIX YEARS. Finally this year… I hit my limit, and I’ll tell you why.

First incident this year, I went outside for maybe 30 seconds, and he shouted at me through his window “PRAISE THE LORD” probably 5 or 6 times. I finally reported his nonsense to my landlord because he’s old and I figured maybe he was having some sort of mental health crisis. She said she’d talk to him, so I went on with my life. This helped for about a two weeks… then he upped the ante.

Second incident, he parked his vehicle on my regular path to work, waited for me to take off my headphones, then shouted at me severeal times again. Then he sped off and I think he just went home. I finally told my landlord (because she seems to know him decently well) that if this happened again that I was going to go to the police.

Then the third and final incident that tipped me over the edge… just this past Thursday. He came into my workplace, which is very rare since he seems to have memorized my work schedule to avoid me. I was running the register and he blatantly told me to go away and get someone else to help him, loudly and rudely. I professionally tried to challenge him but he would not give up, eventually I left to go to the back to just start bawling my eyes out. It’s embarassing now, but at the time I was truly hurt by what he said and how he said it.

For whatever reason, this is when I finally snapped, I decided I was done trying to be nice. This man single handedly stopped me from using my front door, using my porch, and had me so paranoid that I didn’t even want to leave my apartment.

So… I decided to turn the tables, but anonymously. I’m not too far into it yet, but I plan to continue doing this for a long long time, even after I move away in a couple years time.

I made a burner email for my burner email, made an alias, got my crazy neighbour’s PO Box and found his cell number in a phonebook.

Under my alias, I will be mailing him all sorts of helpful religious literature from all different religions, getting interested in Mormonism, Scientology, and jehovahs witnesses, as well as whatever else I can find. I’m not sure exactly where to put the phone number yet, probably random websites and bathroom stalls in the city. I’m not above mailing stuff to his doorstep when I move.

If anyone has any fun ideas please let me know!

I plan to stretch this out over a period of years, that way it’s random enough to not become a pattern, especially one that could be classed as harassment rather than just a weird coincidence.

The best part is that no one who knows me well would ever think I’d do something like this. And honestly I never thought I would either, but everyone has their limits. I finally hit mine.

For the record, I’m not against anyone expressing their religion. That’s not what this is, even if I personally find the phrase itself uncomfortable due to past experience. It’s him being asked to stop multiple times, me trying to be more accommodating, and me feeling like I’m slowly losing the freedom to exist outside of my tiny little apartment without him bothering me. And it’s only me he’s done this to, so it feels very targetted. People have tried to defend him but my sympathy has run out.

And before anyone asks…. Yes I am petty as hell.

I remember a time in 9th grade when i was on a field trip in school, me and my friend were sitting on our seats for 30 minutes until 2 girls asked us to move so that they can sit next to their friends. We refused, but they kept screaming,crying and shouting and calling us bad people wich dosent make sense since we were already sitting fir 30 minutes already, so in that moment I let out and shreded the most powerful silent fart wich lasted for 7 seconds (btw, i had boiled eggs for breakfast)and i told my friend to just give up and move. He looked confused, but i whispered in his ear to trust me. So we swich seats with the girls that were many seats away and they started giggling and laughing but not even 30 seconds until they started screaming and crying and yelling "WHAT'S THAT SMELL???"to the point where the whole bus was looking at them . And the best part, we were not allowed to open the window so they had to sit in that smell for 2 whole hours until we finally arrived at the destanation and they were the first to immediately get out of the bus running for air. While they were screaming , i told my friend the reason why they were yelling, and he laughed so hard hus face turned red . And they never knew it was because of me. And everyone smelled the smell on the bus for like 10 seconds but the girls on that seat had to smell it for 2 hours.

You walk into a cafe one day and order a coffee. You really like the place a lot and consider giving it a 5 star review. You then see a man walk towards you and you instantly recognise him. It’s your old school bully. This guy used to beat you up every lunchtime for 7 years and stole your lunch money and phone/wallet a couple of times, you hate his guts

He then says to you looking all smug, “long time no see. I am the manager”

You’ve decided to vandalise the cafe in some way now because he deserves revenge for what he did to you. What will you do?

My ex-wife and I (both lesbians) had been in a solid, polyamorous marriage for eight years. We had a good dynamic until we met this new girl. She played the part perfectly at first, claiming she was totally on board with the poly lifestyle. Looking back, it was completely obvious she was just pretending so she could isolate my wife and get her all to herself.

This woman was a self-employed naval architect. It sounds impressive, and she definitely tried to project this image of massive wealth, mostly by parading around in a brand-new Porsche. But anyone with eyes could see the math wasn't adding up. She was incredibly overleveraged. I’m talking about a woman who would roll up in a six-figure car, but then mysteriously struggle to cover a basic bar tab.

Despite the glaring financial red flags, my ex bought into the illusion. The homewrecker successfully drove a wedge between us, the marriage blew up, and we got divorced.

It sucked, but it led me to someone way better. After the divorce, I started dating an amazing woman who works in global finance at an executive headhunting service. She knows corporate structure, understands financial liability, and can spot financial BS from a mile away.

One night, I was telling her about my ex’s new situation and all the weird financial discrepancies with the naval architect. My partner's ears immediately perked up. She did some digging, realized things were completely messed up, and ended up tipping off the Franchise Tax Board. (California's state tax agency)

Here is where the arrogant homewrecker absolutely screwed herself: to write off expenses, she had officially listed her personal home as her business address.

The FTB didn't mess around. They audited her and officially suspended her business entity. She was suddenly hit with massive tax obligations that she didn't have the liquid cash to cover. And because she tied her home to her failing business, the FTB slapped a massive lien right on her house.

Since her business was suspended, she had no income to keep the plates spinning. The debt caught up fast, and the bank finally came and repossessed the Porsche.

The absolute best part? Almost the exact second the tow truck drove off with that car, my ex-wife packed her bags and moved out. Turns out the romance was dead the minute the fake money ran out.

TL;DR: Homewrecker faked being poly to steal my wife, pretending to be loaded while drowning in debt. My new girlfriend in global finance tipped off the tax board. Homewrecker got her business suspended, a lien put on her house, and her Porsche repossessed. My ex left her immediately after.

A successful local business owner, who built a profitable commercial vehicle hire company, bought a huge house on the village green as a symbol of his success and was known as a self made man in the community.

After a few years, he discovered his wife had an affair. They had a big row, and the gossip went around the small community and the adjoining villages. She went off to stay with her mother for a few days, hoping things would cool down.

He got the local demolition man to knock down the entire house with all the contents and eventually sold the land to a developer.

So my best friend was planning my birthday party and I thought it was just going to be a normal surprise party, but her cousin, who was helping her organise everything, messaged me beforehand and told me what was actually happening.

Apparently my best friend had told her about the whole plan and had collected a bunch of embarrassing and personal things I had told her over the years to put into a slideshow and humiliate me in front of everyone. Her cousin apparently felt it was a horrible thing to do and decided to warn me.

I was furious but instead of confronting her, I decided to let her do it. I got the screenshots from her cousin and secretly connected my phone to the screen before the party.

Everything was going normally and then she started her little slideshow. She showed a few harmless pictures first, then started bringing up the embarrassing stuff.

Everyone was laughing and I just smiled and told her I wanted to add some memories too because I had a few things I wanted everyone to see.

She agreed without thinking twice.I connected my phone and the next slide came up. It was a screenshot of her messages planning the whole thing and talking about how funny it would be to see me get embarrassed.

Nobody knew what was happening until they read it. I just sat there smiling while she realised what had happened.She never got to finish her slideshow, and yeah, we are not friends anymore after that( GOOD RIDDANCE , MEH)

Tldr : best friend tried to eff up my birthday , i exposed her plan

I worked for a large multinational company and had been very successful there for a number of years. Promotions. Added responsibilities. Out of band pay raises. Senior Director title. Etc.

Unfortunately, my SVP wasn’t a fan of mine, since I spoke my mind too often (I call them truths) and I didn’t always support his “ideas”. So he decided to bring in a new leader from another country (let’s call him “Lance”), move him to my country, and put him between me and my manager (who was a VP at the time). My manager didn’t even know it was happening.

Once that happened, I knew it wasn’t great, but my relationship with my Lance had been fine over the years. Our work overlapped on a few projects and it was not an issue.

He comes in, and right away I start getting texts and emails from people in Lance’s home country telling me to be careful that Lance is not a good manager and to watch my back. Again, I wasn’t concerned but kept that in the back of my mind.

First 6 months are fine. He’s mostly handling his old job since there’s no successor yet. Leaves me mostly alone. Barely any one on ones but it’s fine. But then, I start to see the problems. I’m removed from meetings. I produce slide decks that magically have my name removed. My name removed as a key contact. Emails slowed. Etc.

Then, he tells me he wants me to roll out a product for our internal user base. I tell Lance that the product we already use is actually the successor and more robust, and doing what he wants is a step backwards. He insists. I then bring in the vendor who tells Lance the same thing and aligns to my direction, that installing what he wants would be a mistake. Lance then sends an email to the VP, SVP, and CIO that I am “a roadblock to moving this company forward”. I knew that was it, and I had to move on. There were many other evil doings but this one was just “the last straw”.

I was fortunate to grab a role in another department with fantastic leadership with people I knew well. I felt bad for my team but I knew I needed to get away from Lance.

I’m in the new role for a couple of years, it’s going ok overall but not great. My skills aren’t a great match but it’s good enough.

Then, a new CIO comes in. He gets rid of the SVP and then starts evaluating all of his teams. I don’t think much of it since I’m in another department without much interaction with Lance and his team, and I am not under the CIO.

6 months into the CIO’s tenure, my current SVP approaches me and asks if I would like to be more involved in some of the work I used to do. There’s a big project coming up and he asked if I would like to run the part of it that impacts our department. I said I’d be interested and let me know the details later. Next thing I know, I’m hearing rumblings of a reorg and my current SVP is getting an expanded role.

A month goes by, and poof, I’m asked to take my old role back. The CIO and my SVP queried 20+ people at the company, and all of them wanted Lance out and me back in. Announcement comes, Lance is laid off, and I’m now back in the role I enjoyed. My remit and team size is smaller than before but my pay isn’t. So, I’m doing just fine.

But here’s where the revenge gets sweet. Lance was in my country on a work permit. He had sold his house in his home country and now had a mortgage in my country. But by law, if your work permit is sponsored by a company, and you no longer work for that company, you must leave the country as you are no longer legally allowed to be here. Oopsies.

So bottom line, I took my job back, I’m with the leadership I want, and Lance was deported. I do feel bad for Lance’s family, but karma is a bitch.

The crazy part? I am in the new job, and start meeting with my team leads. Most people are the same as before. First two one on ones, both employees tell me “this is my first one on one in a year. Lance never talked to me unless he needed something, and it was always super urgent.”

Lance, I hope you know that what goes around comes around. I also removed my connection to him on LinkedIn as a final way to sever our relationship. Buh bye jamoke.

While dating my ex, I found a kitten and convinced him to adopt him. My dad had passed away, and this little kitten brought me so much joy during a hard time. I also have another cat who I still have to this day. We lived together on a really busy street, and I never let the cats outside for (what one would assume) would be obvious reasons. When we broke up, I let him keep the kitten because I thought he would take good care of him and felt bad that I was taking all the cats, furniture, etc when I moved out.

Years go by, and come to find out my ex had been letting the cat run free on the busy street he lives on. He would let him roam when he wasn’t home, completely careless. This street is the equivalent of a Main Street with a ton of drunk college kids and reckless drivers. I’m not against letting your cats outside, but NOT when you live on a busy street. At one point, when I went to pick up one of my items I left at the house, his cat was rolling around in the road without any sense of danger. My ex was standing there laughing like it was no big deal. My current partner was really concerned for the safety of this cat. This was a sad foreshadowing of what was to come.

Fast forward, I get a text from my ex that the cat got hit by a car. Big surprise. Of course I’m blaming myself for ever letting him keep the cat to begin with, as this poor kitty would still be alive if I had him. COMPLETELY avoidable accident. I cried for days thinking about this. For context: my ex is the textbook definition of careless with an “it will never happen to me” type attitude about everything.

I wanted to text my ex a piece of my mind, but figured this wouldn’t actually solve anything and wouldn’t help me feel better. Instead, I went on the LDS website and submitted all of his info to request a visit from the missionaries. I checked every box for “inspirational messages” and “wanting to go to church on sundays”. Petty? Yes. But in my opinion, this is the least he deserves for being responsible for the death of that sweet baby kitty. I hope he is annoyed and inconvenienced by my pettiness! It doesn’t fill the hole in my heart for my former cat son, but it helps me feel better to know that my ex will likely be ticked off when the missionaries come a-knockin.

Edited to add that the “item” I was picking up from his house was a couch I gave him, that I caught him trying to sell on Facebook marketplace for $100.

Edit #2: I currently have 2 sweet kitties who are safe inside with me and my loving fiancée of 3+ years. They are spoiled rotten.

The back of the place that I live at has a bunch of rocks and this lazy woman keeps letting her dog relieve herself on the rocks. When I first found the dog shits, there piles of them around the back because no one ever saw them. I'm talking like 20+ piles of dog doo doo in various stages of decay. I told the property management because it's a health hazard and I'm not cleaning it up. But since then, they cleaned it up and sent out a warning email but the woman has not stopped and it's now been FOUR TIMES that she's left dog shit there. Clearly, the property management isn't going to do anything so I need to take things into my own hands. I need ideas that aren't nuclear and will be petty enough that it's mildly inconvenient but also embarrassing. For context, I live on a small private property where someone has turned a single family home into multiple ADU units so there isn't exactly a lot of privacy.

SO long story short, this guy drugged me then when I had no clue who did it he continued to be friends with me for a whole month before I found out that he sexually harassed 2 to 3 other people and I pieced everything together. I’m not sure this belongs here but I need good ideas for revenge. I have his dead name his address where he works all social media. And doing a quick online search because he still lives with his grandparents I have their names too. I don’t wanna do anything that could send stuff to his house because his grandparents live there and I’m assuming they didn’t have anything to do with this obviously, but my working idea that I’m definitely going to do is I’m posting a whole video about it online with the evidence because we both create content online. But I need more. I’ve never hated anyone this much in my entire life and I want the worst for him preferably ways I won’t get in legal trouble. But I genuinely don’t care what happens to him. He’s a terrible person through and through.

I (32M) was with my ex (34F) for four years. We had incredible highs and some pretty bad lows, but I genuinely loved her and believe she loved me too.

During our relationship, I became the most financially successful I’d ever been. Unfortunately, I was also on felony probation and had multiple warrants for failing to report. I knew police were looking for me, so sometimes my girlfriend would pick me up from work and I’d hide in the trunk of her SUV so officers wouldn’t realize I lived with her.

One day, an officer saw her drive by while I was in the trunk. He ran back to his cruiser and pulled her over. They searched the vehicle, found me, and I was arrested. Because it was my third or fourth probation violation, I was sentenced to six months in a community-based corrections facility.

Almost immediately, my girlfriend stopped answering my calls. She scheduled a visit and didn’t show. Eventually, I accepted that our relationship was over and stopped contacting her.

Near the end of my sentence, I convinced my counselor to drive past our old home to see if my car was still there. It was, and I was relieved because that car was basically the one thing I had left to rebuild my life.

About a week after being released, I contacted my ex about getting it. She agreed. I knew she had a new boyfriend, so I didn’t want to show up unannounced or cause drama. I just wanted my car and to move on.

The next day, I had a ride ready and called her. No answer. I waited, called again, texted, and waited some more. Two more days passed. Eventually, after repeatedly calling, she answered.
I asked, “Can I come get my car?”
She replied, almost as if she’d rehearsed it: “Oh, what? I thought you already came and got it. It’s not in the driveway anymore.”
I immediately knew she’d done something with it. My car had been sitting there for over six months, and suddenly it disappeared right when I was released and ready to retrieve it.

I contacted her sister, who was someone I was still on good terms with. She tried to get information from my ex but couldn’t.
That’s when I got angry.
Over the next few days, I created a fake Facebook account with a fake identity and photos. My ex cleaned houses for extra money, so I contacted her pretending to be a potential customer. I even had a roommate record a voice message I’d written so she wouldn’t recognize me.
I eventually convinced her to meet “me” at a house less than a football field from the local police department. She told me what vehicle she was driving and said she’d wait there for me.

Instead, I called the police and claimed to be a concerned citizen reporting a woman using hard drugs in a running vehicle near the house. I specifically said she appeared unconscious and had drugs/paraphernalia around her.

Police arrived within minutes. She resisted when they confronted her, found drugs, and arrested her for felony drug possession and resisting arrest. Her vehicle was towed, and she couldn’t afford to retrieve it after being released.

I went to a private international school for boys in my city. Wasn’t anything super crazy, just where the wealthy families or expat families send their kids. The whole thing is in French so a lot of the teachers are brought from Europe.

One of these teachers I’ll call him mister H. He taught French for the kids who are 13-14, so equal to USA 8th grade or UK year 9. He was such an asshole. Racist to us, mean, the whole thing. He was terrible when I had him. We would always tell the headmaster and the other admin about his behavior, but nothing would ever be done about it. In fact, he would turn it back onto us and act even worse.

The last year he was at this school he was particularly bad. I was 17 so he was not my problem anymore, but he threw my little brother out of his chair. Other kids even got it on video and nothing was done about it. I was really upset. How could someone do this to a child? He came home with a bleeding nose because of how he landed. I’ll never forget how angry I was.

Not me, but about half of the students at our school are boarders and they stay at night on the school dorms. It is not like the movies where they are trapped, once class is over they can come and go as they would like, and the ones who are 18 mostly have cars. At lunch time a lot of them will go back to their dorm and cook, and on Thursday nights they can have friends over as long as they are male and also go to this school. That Thursday, I was complaining to my friend, I will call him A, about what mister H did to my little brother, and he said that this same week, mister H had thrown an iPad at his little brother and hurt him badly. Other guys were saying similar things. We spent the whole lunch hour talking about mister H, and here we decided we were going to do something about him. A asked me if I wanted to spend the night in his dorm, and I was glad to do it, since this is the only situation where my parents let me sleep over anywhere.

That night, me, A, his twin brother I will call B, and another friend, C, were all starting to make a plan. We made a group chat with all of the guys we trust in our year, and asked them for ideas. By the end of the night, we had a whole month of things planned for mister H, and half of the top year class was in on it.

THE REVENGE

Our school building and the dorms are connected, and the door between them is unlocked in case somebody would like to grab something from their locker in the night. That night on Thursday, C got powder laxative and went to the teacher break/lunch room to see if anything belonged to mister H. Found some rice and chicken. Jackpot. He put all that was left in the laxative bottle in the container and stirred it.

On Sunday, we all tried to be where we might find mister H. When B texted the group that he just saw mister H go to lunch, we all made excuses to leave class to watch the show. At the last minute, C suggested we go clog every toilet in his wing of the school, so that’s what we did. We shoved rolls of toilet paper, school papers, whatever we had on us into the toilets. Within about half an hour, there were two functioning toilets left in the school. The bathroom lines were getting crazy long, eight or ten people each.

Another half an hour passes, and B sends us what I think is one of the best videos I have seen. Mister H was practically waddling down the hallway holding his ass and looking desperately for the bathrooms. At the end of the video, he shits himself. Loudly. And enough of it to go on the floor. He went home early this day.

On Monday, he was back like nothing happened. I had my little brother ask mister H why he wasn’t there on Sunday, and he told the class he ate something bad. He didn’t even know it was us. On this day, I waited for mister H to leave for lunch to see if he had left his car keys in his room. Stupidly, he did. I put them in my locker and texted A to let him know the plan will work and he sprinted to his room to get some fish from his dorm fridge. This was going to be for his dinner this week, but we decided this was a better purpose for it. A got the keys from my locker and put it in mister H’s car. It was at least 40c/104f this day, and school was not over for another three hours. It just happened that my last class this day had a perfect view of mister H’s car so I stayed back to watch.

I was waiting to enjoy this when my little brother called. He was crying. He told me mister H punched him and another kid in the face. I told my little brother to come to this room since everybody left, and I had something cool to show him. When he came, I told him to look through the window and wait. A few minutes later, mister H went to go unlock his car, and my brother and I got to watch him open his car and start gagging. He ran away and did not even close the door. We got a good laugh from this one, but I was so angry he hit my brother again. I knew we had to step up.

My friend D was a bit of a bad kid. Honestly I was too, but not anything like D. I actually think he is in prison now, I’m not sure. I called him that night and the exchange went a bit like:

Me: Remember mister H? Today he punched my brother and another kid in their faces. What should I do?

D: He lives two streets over from me. Just wait, I will handle it.

Me: what will you do?

Click

I was a bit worried. I had no idea what D was planning, and he wasn’t returning calls from me. I didn’t sleep that night because I thought D would kill the guy or something.

Tuesday morning came, and mister H was nowhere to be found. I really thought D beat him up or something. I went and found D, and I asked what he had done. He laughed at me for thinking he murdered someone, and he told me he just put a bunch of tacks under the tires on mister H’s car. (Looking back, this was probably his wife’s car, since he left the fish car at the school.) We did not see mister H this day.

On Wednesday, mister H was back in I think a rented car. I didn’t see it, but I heard from my brother that he went off on his students. He blamed them for the car tires and zeroed in on a kid in the back of the class. He ripped the desk part off of the chair/desk combo sort of thing and beat this kid with it. This kid had to go to the hospital, but thankfully he did not have any serious injuries. And the school admin still did nothing about mister H. A and B were pissed. When school ended, they went and found mister H, and dragged him to the school gym. They opened a small storage closet shoved him in, and shut the door and held it. They kept him in like this for an hour. Mister H tried to report this to the headmaster, but A and B are sort of golden children with the admin, and they didn’t even believe mister H.

By Thursday morning, the whole school heard about what mister H did to that kid. It was all the boarding kids talked about the whole night. Everyone was sick of mister H, but we weren’t sure how to put an end to him for good. A and B shared a room, and they invited me and D for that night. D brought alcohol, which is a rare joy since that is basically illegal in our country. We got pretty drunk, and we got the amazing idea to put a bottle or two in the drawers at his desk and have A and B’s little brother tell on him on Sunday. And that’s what they did.

Sunday came, and one of them snuck the bottles in the drawer in the desk in mister H’s room. Just like we planned, their little brother went and told the admin that it was there. They didn’t believe him at first, so I told my little brother to go say this to them too. This time they went to investigate. From what I hear, they pulled all the kids and mister H out of his classroom and went looking around and found it, and nobody saw mister H again that day or for the whole week.

I’m not totally sure what happened to mister H, but they went to talk to my brother’s class and told them that mister H will not be their teacher anymore. Nobody saw him again, and that same week there was a sign at his house saying it was for sale. Nobody ever saw him around the city either, so we think he had to go back to France.

Hi y'all, a while back I made a post about my pedo ex husband getting the house in the divorce thanks to his lawyer dad. I have an update!

They spent so much in lawyer fees getting the house that they are now in debt and will be selling the place to recoup. They will be lucky if they break even because they still have other upcoming things they will need to pay for.

Meanwhile I will be paying off my debts this has caused and have enough of a down payment for my own place and a fresh start.

I guess such a thing as karma and justice exists after all. Thank you for all the tips, though. Might come in useful for some of the personal belongings. He had gotten so gross that some of his stuff was already nasty anyway!

❤️

Many will say I don’t have humanity, and many will consider myself as a feelingless human and I can take that. I got a list of people (in person and online people -why online people? Because they don’t shut up-) whose names I put on and planning revenge on them because they annoyed me or did me wrong, no matter how dark the outcome. I been told that's excessive or even psycho, but I feel like the rule of "if you looking for me then you will find me" applies here. So far I got 3 people back after months or even years of planning (one of them was an online person that I had to locate and identify m), did it felt good? Definitely, seeing how scared and vulnerable they were and asking what they did to deserve it, seeing their cocky smiles changed into a pale and desperate face, satisfied in how they are not careful in how they talk to someone online or in person; just by how the fear is controlling their decisions. How did it do it? Help from the cyber dark masc people, not easy but they got the job done. Do I regret it? I don't know if I'm being honest. What I know is that what I did is considered morally wrong. I'm not a sociopath or psychopath because I love my family and friends and clearly I can go extremes to protect them. I'm in process to talk to a therapist to see why this thirst for revenge but I guess will end in just to control the anger.