For almost two years I’ve had reoccurring nightmares and dreams about my ex. Honestly it’s districting my mental health I feel like I’m losing my mind from the lack of sleep. We were together for three great and turbulent years. We both made mistakes and hurt each other but that was the deepest love I’ve had in my life. We’ve both been single for four year since we broke up. I’m assuming we’ve both had our hookups/flings but no one serious. I’m just writing this here to get it off my chest. A lot of things have changed but I can’t shake this feeling we’re going to cross paths in real life soon. I ran into his parents at the beach him and I used to live across from this Valentine’s Day. I went there thinking about us and ending up crying on the rocks. My heart still hurts so badly. I don’t know how to move on and I wish I could do. There’s so many important details in the seven year span we’ve been together and broken up that this makes no sense. I always felt we’d come back to each other when we grew up and healed. I hope that happens one day. I miss you every day. It sucks because I understand why the world separated us and that reason is bigger than us but I still think about if we could turn back time and get it right.

Totally new to this, would love critique on my first chapter. Give it to me real. I want to improve: this may just be a hobby but I love it!
What you see on Page One.

Read Seekers, until daytime fades to candlelight, For magic is found when ink breathes life to parchment, When bookbindings break and cradled words take flight. It’s the safety of cozying up near the warming hearth, And the rising steam from a wellworn mug It’s that smile when you turn the page in delight. 

That cool little quote thing before a chapter starts that gives you background.

West of the Citadel Clouds, Bordering Mountain Pines and fickle Seashine Lies the renowned Port Cardica Where sailors sing and blight-born orphans dream. 

Chapter 1
A Slip Away from Death
Like most boys, Jake chose snoring in the pews over memorizing the Church’s proverbs. A clear mistake, he realized, as the Pastor's warning that “prayer follows danger” proved true. Hanging precipitously from the cliff’s edge, Jake recited every Creed he could remember in a futile attempt to appease any watching Gods.
“Prosper in his light, heathentry outside his sight,” he prayed, feet kicking in a desperate search for better footing.
It was a stowaways’ stanza, a tenet meant to share wisdom in ways the thickest of Port Cardica’s orphan dockboys could understand but, like most doctrine, its religious meaning was lost in translation.
Instead, the impoverished boys interpreted it as a practical warning to keep their heads down. Everyone knew the city’s Nobles revered the Book and claimed their prosperity was proof of Gods’ favor. Of course, beggars knew better: one downward glance at them revealed the decay fueling Cardica’s burgeoning wealth. Still, the poor learned to philosophize quietly. Someone was to blame for the hoveltowns, bird droppings, and penetrating seafood stink, and it better not be you.
For his part, Jake blamed himself. If he’d scaled the cliff wall with just a bit more care and a bit less haste he’d never have slipped. Instead he’d been forced to violently slow his descent, bruising bones and trading skin for friction on the vertical slope. It wasn’t a graceful maneuver by any means, but it beat falling hundreds of feet into the freezing current below. Thankfully, years as a guttersnipe had honed his reflexes – his gangly arms lacked the strength of a Swordsquire or the coordination of a Majpupil, but his daily dance with starvation demanded nimble fingers and quick wit.
That experience wasn’t paying off. As Jake shuffled his feet around to find better purchase, his hands slipped on the accruing condensation from the ongoing manastorm. His grip flagged, then failed, and he had neither the magic nor the strength to escape the weight of gravity.
“It isn't written, it isn’t written” Jake recited frantically as he began to plummet. The other dockboys would laugh at his superstition, but he didn’t care. Many claimed the Creeds were lucky, and Jake desperately needed some luck. Instinctively he spread his arms out as wide as possible, hoping to extend his reach and grip onto something.
By some miracle, It worked. The resounding sound of cloth ripping accompanied Jake as he slammed into the stone cliff, teetering to a stop. He hung like a rag doll, held up only by the hem of his matted, brown tunic; the cheap weavings had snagged and torn on an outcropping of stone.
“Aughhh” he mumbled.
He had survived, but everything hurt. Looking down to inspect the damage, Jake saw that his calloused hands were raw and pebbled, but a quick flex confirmed he hadn’t broken any fingerbones. Breathing a sigh of relief, he gasped at the telltale sting every kicked streetrat knew so well.
“Po-Poet’s hand,” Jake swore.
He grabbed the cliff wall to stabilize himself and, seeing as it had worked so far, continued reciting the few Creeds he could remember. A minute passed before he was able to think clearly, but slowly Jake got his breathing under control and continued his self-assessment.
Overall, he felt like things couldn’t have gone much worse. His cracked ribs hurt and continuing the heist would only exacerbate the damage, leading to scarring or permanent hobbling. Jake had seen many dockbeggars with similar injuries from fights or beatings, unable to walk straight without being plagued by the stitchers cough.
For this reason alone, Jake briefly considered giving up. He quickly dismissed the idea – it might be madness to continue climbing in his condition, but he’d come too far to back out now. He’d planned this heist for months, obsessively pathing his break-in while waiting for a night when security would be light. In retrospect, he’d been a fool; his overly cautious preparations left no possibility for a second attempt before his 15th birthday.
No, despite his injury tonight was still his best hope to successfully steal a Scriptors’ Grimoire before Binding Day. Failure would mean enslavement as a Ruddite or worse, full Automation. He’d just have to trust the windy weather to mute his movements and the harvest moons to light his way.
So, teeth chattering with cold and fear, Jake resumed the ascent. His ribs sang in agony as he put one hand in front of the other, slowly turning small divots into handholds, footholds and leverage. Each bouldering movement made him wince, but over the years he’d honed the art of turning sweat and grit into capillary action. He’d had no other choice; richmen shared a passion for building impenetrable estates, forcing thieves to develop an unshaking hand at scaling them.
Five painstaking minutes of climbing later and Jake regained his original position. Salty sweat matted his brow and stinged his eyes but he persevered. He blinked slowly to clear his vision and shuffled his feet left over right, shivering his way across an inch-wide protrusion. Just a few meters above him stood the lip of the granite outcropping and access to the marble fortress built upon it. Jake tasted copper as he bit the inside of his cheek in anticipation – If the heist went well he’d finally change his destiny and be able to swear upon the Sermon’s Book on his own terms.
But first he had to finish the climb. He knew the manor’s sentries rotated hourly, eyes glued to the sky as they watched for flyingmen and attacks from above. He also knew that all these guards would be literate, but none especially gifted. After all, no one powerful enough to be a Writer would stand watch over another man's fortune. The chartered Maji Wordlings, on the other hand, could easily detect Jake if he hadn’t planned for them in advance. He chose tonight because it was the season’s Lenting, meaning the majority of Maji would be in communion until the sun rose.
“What is written” a gruff voice proclaimed, startling Jake.
It was muffled by the wind, so it took him a moment to realize it was coming from directly above him. Jake craned his neck and peered up; to his horror he could see the silhouette of a guard's shadow on the cliff wall.
Petrified, Jake hugged his body to the cold granite, hoping the darkness of the windy night would hide his form. His entire plan hung on the simple thesis that in a world of magidetectors and magflight, no one would expect an unbound to scale the walls. Great in theory, but what if a guard just happened to look down?
“Is Foretold and Forbidden,” another voice chanted, completing the customary greeting. “All safe on the watch?”
“All is safe and silent, as usual,” the first man grunted.
“Don’t sound so upset,” the second laughed. ”We chose this job because it’s easy, remember? No more treading through the mud, no more war with those blasted barren beasts and their infernal warlocks.”
“That’s true, althou..”
The men’s voices were swept up in the wind as they paced further down the stone perimeter. They hadn’t seen him, but, just to be safe, Jake stayed low until he could no longer hear the stamping of metal-toed boots on stone. Then, fingers white and aching in trepidation, he waited another 30 seconds.
Finishing his count, Jake peaked over the edge. It took all the courage he had earned as a thief and every bit of boldness he had learned as a beggar, but he managed it.
The coast was clear.
Jake carefully pulled himself over the ledge before falling into a crouch. He looked around and exhaled painfully, releasing a breath he had not realized he was holding.
In front of him lay an outdoor walkway culminating in a rippling fountain circumscribed by five basalt pillars of progressively increasing height. Everflowing torches adorned each of the columns and burned despite the rain, casting rings of golden light throughout the open atrium. At the foot of the fountain rose a gold-leafed speaker's lectern, a pure white sculpture of the Sermon Book chiseled open upon it.
Jake stared openmouthed at the power radiating from the fountain before abruptly coming to his senses. Without a doubt this artifact was a Magisma, an extremely expensive construct meant to amplify its controller’s magic. Leaving it outside was a casual display of wealth and power meant to shock and impress, but Jake didn’t have time for that.
Instead Jake blended into the shadows cast by the monument as he sneaked his way across the grounds. After passing the walkway the torchlight dimmed considerably, forcing him to hobble his way in the dark. A bright flash startled him, but the acid smell of tobacco that accompanied it indicated the guards he’d seen earlier were smoking to pass the time. Realizing they were distracted, Jake sped up and almost tripped on the jutting crystals of an emerald rock garden. Embarrassed, he paused to listen for anyone approaching.
Everything was quiet except for the constant pitter, patter and hiss of rain from the manastorm. It seemed his home-invasion had so far gone unnoticed, but the hair on Jake’s neck rose. An unsettling feeling of being watched set in and every few seconds he reflexively looked over his shoulder.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, he made it to the Manor wall. Keeping to the shadows, Jake hid behind the tallest thing he could find; a towering yellow flower with leaves the size of platters that he had never seen before. Staying low, he muddied his knees and toes on the damp ground, but thankfully the foliage protected him from the rain. As his eyes adjusted to less light, Jake noticed all sorts of exotic fruits surrounding him; blood red berries in the shape of teardrops levitated inches off the ground, while turquoise bubbles floated up from vibrant greenery, collapsing quickly into little orange stones that looked remarkably like candy. Jake’s belly growled at the idea of tasting these treats, but he dismissed his urges. Stanzas warned that “those who leave riches unread become starving men” but Jake knew hunger well. He would jeopardize his mission by eating something that might make him sick tonight.
Instead, he focused on gaining entry to the manor. Searching his surroundings, Jake located the iron front doors about 6 meters to his right. They were guarded by life-like statues on either side, one a Korai of the Poet, hand outstretched in greeting, the other a two headed wolf, with both snarling maws crying out to the moons. The door itself was blacked with age and inscribed by a massive oval spellwork that glinted in the light cast by a hanging lantern.
Listening closely, Jake groaned at the buzz of silverscripting coming from the insignia. Every thief knew that spellworks grew more powerful over time, and anything audible would be too powerful for any Unbound to lockpick.

Hi all. Awesome subreddit! I will be in PV near Playa Amapas for most of July with wife and two daughters, 6 and 2. Our youngest, while overall healthy, has a neurological disorder. She doesn’t talk, walk or crawl, though she is active and engaged in her way. She struggles with digestion but otherwise has a happy disposition and is working hard to participate in the world. We would like to try to help her enjoy as much of PV as possible.
I’m interested in any advice, information or suggestions anyone may have. A couple specific questions:
What is our best option for both immediate and general medical care?
If I need children’s medication for acid management like simethicone or omeprizole, any pharmacy recommendations?
Best access to beach or beach club suggestions? I can carry her anywhere but if there is anything that makes life easier….
Family friendly restaurants that are worth going to. We love going out but it takes a lot of work making sure everything goes smoothly. It needs to be worth the effort and also not a burden on the restaurant should it not be so smooth.
Children’s playgrounds, gathering spaces and the like where both girls can engage with other kids.
Thanks for reading this far and any thoughts shared will be much appreciated!

This is a plot inspired by the Dune fandom. Interplanetary exchanges of goods and resources, political espionage and spying, treaties, hyper-advanced technology, starships that can travel at the speed of light, magical plant properties that grant supernatural "blessings" to those who consume it.
Princess Sienna rules on the planet of Jansara; one of the many outlying worlds near the edge of the Centaurus solar system. Sienna was apart of the royal family who gained inheritance to much of Jansara's land. Other worlds, especially the Core Worlds, paid little attention to it due to it's lack of resources and generally unappealing habitat. The planet itself is that of a warm, rocky climate with high humidity. Black lava rocks covered much of the terrain while moisture caves and dormant volcanos are commonly found outside of the cities established on the surface.
Due to these conditions, settlers had to create artificial biomes to grow food, herd animals, and create a more oxygenated living space for it's people. Their infrastructure was that of many cylinder and block shaped structures with color schemes of white and grey. The most significant building though was Princess Sienna's home, the "Palace of the Saints," where she, her mother the queen, brother the prince, and two sister princesses dwelled high above the working class with their political and financial advisors.
The Republic of the Core Worlds, (otherwise known as RCW,) have been known to leech off of many outlying planets for centuries. They offered their credits, security, and advanced technology in exchange for luxuries like nuclear fusion, solar energy, fuel, starships, narcotics, medicine, fabrics, metals, weapons, and food among other things. All to satisfy their lucious core world lifestyles.
Little intergalactic trading happened here on Jansara aside from the few ores the Miners Commission have extracted from the nearest volcanoes. This made Jansara one of the lowest priority planets for the RCW to trade with. Because of this, great burdens were placed on the royal family and their advisors to keep the economy and flow of local goods supplied and operational. It also put a complete halt to funding further research for biome expansion without credits from the Core Worlds.
That is, until Princess Sienna visits the mines of an old dormant volcano for a thrill. The volcano she ventured into was once abandoned years ago by the Jansara Mining Commission after all the ore was extracted from it. But deep down into the darkness, far into the unexplored territories of the volcano, a garden of uncovered secrets lied.
Self-illuminating herbs, flowers, and berries lied in a field of glowing greenery that Sienna had never seen before. How could plant life grow in such a sunless place? But the greenery down here contained no ordinary flora. As Sienna soon found out, the fruit and herbs produced in the garden granted it's consumer supernatural blessings, but only temporarily. Depending on the offspring of the plant and the potency consumed, the blessings could last from just a few hours up to years. Levitation, telepathy, fire breathing, mind control, healing, and illusion casting were just some of many blessings granted by the volcano's greenery. Sienna was dumbfounded. This could save her city. Her family. Her home. This could finally put Jansara back in the trading system! Sienna knew this situation needed to be handled carefully or else the entire universe would be warmongering to invade her planet for its unprecedented resources. But then, as if to ruin her plans, a voice from the darkness. Your O/C.
"Hello? Anyone there?"

I'll preface this by saying that I'm a young'n. I won't specify my age, just for the sake of privacy. Skyrim has been a huge influence on my life and I thought it would be cool to share for anyone bored enough to read a glorified "little gamer's autobiography" on Reddit. I'm sure I'm remembering some of this wrong, but the timeline by itself should be pretty exact.
I was about 7 at the time, if my memory serves me. Close estimate at worst. As a little guy I was into a lot of stuff, and usually every 2 weeks I would switch topics I was unreasonably obsessed with. Usually the cycle would be Marvel, Cthulhu, werewolves, DC, Predator (the movies and the few games - way too young to be into something like that but it's an interest that remains to this day), stuff like that. During the werewolf phase of this cycle, I went to my dear mom (as you do) to ask her if she knew any werewolf games. After a few instances of this question, she said something along the lines of "well, you can turn into a werewolf in Skyrim". This little answer set off a very important chain of events. One thing led to another, and I ended up with Skyrim on my Xbox 360 on my stupid little box TV. Don't be fooled, this was when the PS4 and Xbox 1 were well into the modern gaming zeitgeist, my family was just really poor at the time. The PS3 and the aforementioned 360 were my consoles. 360 was a hand-me-down from my uncle and the PS3 was an old one of my parents. These were not my first, I played the Wii-U a fair bit and Wii-bowling was my introduction to videogames. Back to the meat and potatoes, Skyrim. I watched a video on my PS3 a few days before on the little box TV, some guy in a little bunch of glaciers in Skyrim turns into a werewolf to fight an enemy I can't remember. This lit up my brain like a wildfire. I immediately fired it up on the 360, one of the probably three games I had on it at the time. It was my secondary console. I played my heart out on the little thing, with only one character. He had my name. Werewolf, ring of Hircine, heavy armor, greatsword, which is what I'd guess is the exemplary character for a 7-year-old Skyrim boy. In my time on the 360, me and my parents ended up moving into a trailer park somewhere else. I never really made it to the end of any of the questlines, and from memory, my playthrough ended without the main quest pursued or any other faction questline for that matter, the College of Winterhold being the exception for reasons I'll give in a second. My most vivid memory of Skyrim at this age goes like so: I'm sitting crisscross applesauce probably only a foot away from this low-quality box TV. A few days before I had discovered that there was a magic forge under Winterhold, and you could do a glitch where you could make Daedric armor without consuming the ingredients if you grabbed them from the box quick enough. Little me was (and still is) obsessed with looking cool in videogames. Daedric armor was my holy grail as a little guy. I instantly pursued the College of Winterhold, and I can't remember this part well but I know there's some way to summon a Daedra on top of the college or something like that - I did that. Killed the Daedra, got a heart so I could forge the armor. After a bunch of time getting the ingredients, I made my way to the forge. I was there, about to put the ingredients in, when my parents are going out the door to the grocery store. (I was in the living room playing. I didn't have a room in that trailer, only really a mattress in my dad's room which I sometimes slept on. I usually took the couch in the living room so I could watch TV instead of his laptop.) My mom asks me "hey, do you want to come to the grocery store with us?" I'm too engrossed in the game and just kind of wave them away. While they're gone I forge a two sets of Daedric armor (with a bunch of save-scumming and error) under the college, one for me and one for my follower, and I am happier than ever. I killed a few enemies in the snow (with my still iron weapons) and B-A Daedric armor. My memory gets fuzzy at this point. I either kept playing for a while or quit close to there. Not important.
Christmas comes and my grandpa buys me a PS4. I stay on that for a while, not playing Skyrim. Soon after, my grandpa buys an Xbox 1.. FOR HIMSELF. Specifically to play PUBG on. He liked PUBG a lot, then. (He's not dead. He just plays other games now. Me and him used to co-op Halo and stuff, but now he's more into mobile games because he's old.) He didn't like PUBG on the Xbox, so he gave it to me. Glorious rediscovery of Skyrim begins a few years later. Mods. My favorite mod at that point was the ported Predator mod (because as I said earlier, loved Predator, still do). Played that for hundreds of hours. Had other playthroughs, too, without the Predator mod. Some were mages, rogues, warriors, I really branched out. I was into the roleplay of it. A lot. Once again, my memory kind of fails me here. I don't have many stand-out experiences from that time period, though I do remember being on voice chat with my friend Joe a lot while playing the game and sometimes broadcasting to him from the now-dead broadcasting thing I forget the name of. Good times. Heavily modded times. Hundreds of hours into Skyrim. Loved every second. What's weird, though, is I still never pursued any of the factions really. Didn't pursue the main quest. I do vividly remember completing the DB questline and being in absolute awe. I loved that. I remember sitting on the couch during one of the important parts of that questline (which I wont specify for spoiler's sake I guess) and I called my mom in to watch because I was so excited. Skyrim is a beautiful thing.
A few years later, my entire family pitches in to buy me a wicked PC and gaming chair. Still have the PC, chair broke a while ago. I play my fair share of Steam games that I could finally play after watching YouTube videos on them for years. Absolute bliss. Then.. another glorious rediscovery of Skyrim. With better mods, too. I decided to go with Oldrim for some weird reason. One of my friends showed me a mod he made as an add-on to another one I frequently used and I really loved it. That was like, the only reason I went with Oldrim. Still have that mod, still use it. Won't specify the mod for privacy's sake. Still played with the Predator mod very frequently, still do, but loved it more because the PC version has way more stuff. Bunches and bunches of playthroughs, around 100 mods, life's good. I make a character named Orrid, a Redguard, who practices the old Yokudan art of Sword-singing. He's still my main character and I'm still going through with roleplay and story arcs galore.
My mom separates from my dad. They don't get divorced, but feel like they'd be happier if they lived in separate houses and just visited each other very frequently. Don't mean to get too real, but it's mildly important. All three of us are still happy, and I have a sister now. She used to annoy me at the other trailer, but now I have an actual room in my apartment and she doesn't bother me 24/7 like usual. Back to Skyrim! I keep playing at the new apartment. It's actually running right now, in my room, in my apartment. Still going with Orrid, having a grand old time. I recently got my mom back into Skyrim on HER Xbox 1.
I go to church. I live in Southeast North America, you kind of have to go to church here. I'm in a youth group, and we have a videogame room. This paragraph happened a week or so ago. We play the Nintendo Switch, mostly Mario Kart (which I destroy everyone at). The pastor broke out Skyrim. I played Skyrim a couple times, but me and the pastor both kind of realized it couldn't go on because it was single player and with me destroying everyone at Mario Kart and the single player game combined nobody really dwelled there but me. It might as well have been my own little plane of Oblivion. I had a character named Orc Masterson, with the intent to actually do the main questline. At some point, the pastor comes to me and tells me he's gonna have to take the game off the list for the greater good. I agree. I'm about to leave the building, because it was post-lesson time, but pastor's quickly disconnecting the Switch and its charger. He runs up to me with the little thing. "Said-A-Funny, take the switch. Beat the game by next Sunday as Orc Masterson, do me proud." He knows I've never finished the main quest. He's as big a nerd as me, and plays Skyrim too. I initially declined taking the Switch, because I felt like I was inconveniencing him, but he INSISTED. I walked out, the Switch freeze-framed on me about to fight Mirmulnir. I decide to take this challenge as seriously as possible. It's the last few weeks of school, and every day I get back, instead of playing Skyrim on my PC as Orrid, I play Skyrim on my loaned Switch as Orc Masterson. I realize the family's going to the beach and I'll have to have an extension on my Orc Masterson challenge time. He obliges.
Last Wednesday, at the beach. I beat the main questline of Skyrim for the first time in my life. I sent a text to my pastor, and I did him proud. I'm going to return the Switch and its charger today at the church function. Level 20, Orc Masterson. A Skyrim character devoted to my pastor.
To close out, I've played Skyrim for a lot of my life and will continue to play for a lot more. My pastor will too. I love the game, always have, and I find it really funny how the game has followed me from console to console, house to house, grade to grade. One of two decorations in my new room is a tiny Skyrim poster my grandpa put up himself.
What a game.

Sorry I’m advance for this long ass rant/vent. I have no one to talk to and just need to get this off my chest.
I work & commute 12 hrs/day 5 days a week. I wake up at 3:30am everyday just so I can maybe have 30 minutes to drink my coffee and read my book. I leave at 6am land get home around 6pm. I get one episode of Bluey to sit down and nurse my toddler before rushing to make dinner, clean up dinner mess, take a shower with my kid, then read her a book and be in bed by 7:30.
Saturdays I spend catching up on chores and laundry and doing house/yard projects. Sunday I spend a good portion of the day meal prepping for the week because if I don’t, I will end up feeding my kid cereal for dinner all week and buying junk food at the gas station on my lunch break. Then I try to spend part of the day playing with and focusing on my kid, but that doesn’t always happen because I’m usually at my emotional max getting tugged on and yelled at to be held while I’m trying to do a million things. I’m in bed by 7:30pm for work the next day.
I have no friends. Literally, none. I have no social media so not even the illusion of a community/friends. Sometimes I’m lonely and wish I had friends, but then I realize even if I did, I’d have no time to ever do anything with them. The thought of even trying to make a friend at this point sounds daunting and exhausting and impossible.
My sister invited me to a girls camping trip this weekend with her friends, and my mom actually agreed to watch my kid overnight tonight so I could go, and I was going to stay in the trailer with her opposed to bringing a tent so it would have been totally stress-free. It would have been the first fun adult activity I would attend in almost a year. But my daughter was sick last weekend and my mom decided she didn’t want to risk getting sick. So I couldn’t go.
I wanted to go to Home Depot today to get some stuff for my garden, and I couldn’t even do it because I did not have the mental energy to deal with wrangling my adventurous toddler who refuses to sit in carts or just walk next to me in a store. This happens every weekend—I want to go grocery shopping, end up not going because I don’t have the time or energy so I either order grocery delivery/pickup. I want to take my kid to do fun stuff but doing so will mean half my weekend to-dos don’t get done then I’m stressed out all week.
My kid is constantly getting sick and I am always missing work to stay home with her. Any PTO I accrue will go to all the time I take off to stay home with her. I have 100% sole custody with zero involvement from her father. Once every few months when a grandparent agrees to an overnight, it’s always on a Friday where I’m too tired to even finish a movie before falling asleep by 8. Then I have to get my kid by 9am the next day because you know the grandparents have lives too, they can’t just watch their grandkid all day (heavy /s if it wasn’t obvious). Even if I could muster up the energy to do something fun, I have no friends to go do anything with. Once I went out by myself last summer and ended up going home crying at 10pm because seeing all these groups of friends out made me realize just how lonely I am. I went out hoping to make friends and no one wanted to be my friend. I thought working would gain me some friends, but I work with literally all men and I’m an attractive female so trying to start an outside of work friendship with any of my coworkers is just a recipe for disaster.
If the rest of my life goes like this, what kind of memories will my kid have? What memories will I have? Working my ass off and being too tired to ever get rewarded for it. Hell even if I just worked 4 10s, I feel like my life would be immensely better. I work a physically demanding job now, but before this I just was waitressing for the majority of my life. Can’t work that field anymore though because there is zero flexibility which is essential when you’re a single parent. I wish I could have a WFH job but everything I’ve seen you need either experience in the field, some sort of license, or degree. None of which I have. I also have a felony record (over 4yrs old) so I don’t have unlimited possibilities on where I can work. Hell I’d even be happy to work like a 2-3 day workweek of 13-14hr shifts if I was able to find childcare for those kind of hours. Part of me almost wants to just go back to school and try to live off the grant money again, but I have to go full time to get that money meaning I can’t even work a part time job because I cannot handle that much on my plate.
I don’t know man. Lately I just keep thinking, is this all there is to life? I love my kid to death but I can’t even enjoy my time with her anymore because there’s always something to do. I wish I could just be one of those families who lives out of a converted van/rv and travels the country and actually lives. I hate this. I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m so lost and alone.

Blackwater Bay. 200 AC OST - See the Fire in Your Eyes (Moving Camps) Hymnal
Willem stood on the rocky shores, his weary eyes fixated on the devastating aftermath that lay before him. The acrid stench of burnt flesh mingled with the briny scent of the sea, assaulting his senses and leaving an indelible mark upon his weary soul. The once pristine waters, now tainted with the remnants of a great battle, lapped ominously against the scarred shoreline. The morning mist cloaked the beach, lending an eerie ambiance to the desolation that stretched as far as his aged eyes could see. Swollen and charred corpses dotted the shore, their broken forms a grotesque tapestry of twisted limbs and contorted expressions frozen in eternal agony. Each lifeless body told a tale of valor and despair, of dreams cut short and promises unfulfilled.
Amongst the fallen, Willem's gaze fell upon a young soldier, barely a man, his visage marred by the cruel hand of war. A splintered beam lay upon him, wrapped in the fraying salted ropes of rigging. He had a rusting bit of armor on. It likely was polished before his doom. This boy was a knight. The knight's eyes, once filled with hope and determination, stared lifelessly into the endless expanse of the heavens above. Willem felt a pang of sorrow deep within his chest.
"I do not believe that she has condemned us to destruction."
A mournful wind whispered through the rigging and ropes strewn across the beach, a haunting chorus that accompanied the tragic tableau. On the wind he heard Ser Ilyn Crakehall's reply. Every face he looked upon, swollen and charred, every lightless eye. The remnants of destroyed ships, mere fragments of their former glory, served as a solemn reminder of the carnage that had taken place upon the waters. The sea, once a source of life and sustenance, now offered naught but a final resting place for the fallen, claiming their battered forms as its own. The surf and tide were awash with the aftermath.
As Willem treaded along the shoreline, his weathered boots sinking into the sand, he couldn't help but reflect upon his own life. His once unyielding sense of honor had been tarnished by the relentless march of time, battles fought and comrades lost. Deeds done. The weight of regret settled upon his weary shoulders, his footsteps echoing with a melancholic cadence.
He had unironically warned a member of the Kingsguard of the impending destruction, a dire premonition that had fallen upon deaf ears. The bitterness of that moment still lingered, a bitter taste upon his tongue. Willem had seen the fire in his dreams, and had felt the impending doom like a weight upon his very soul, and yet his warnings had been dismissed as the ramblings of an old knight lost in his own sorrow.
Now, as he walked amidst the aftermath, Willem couldn't help but feel a sense of futility. The battles fought and lives lost seemed but a tragic cycle, an unending dance of death and despair. Yet, amidst the ashes souls, timber, sail, and fallen heroes, a flicker of purpose ignited within his weathered heart. He would not let his tarnished honor define his final days. Perhaps, in this desolate landscape of broken dreams, he could find redemption, a chance to restore a glimmer of hope in a world consumed by darkness.
With each step, Willem carried the weight of the fallen upon his shoulders, their unfulfilled dreams and shattered lives etched deep within his soul. The somber melody of his footsteps, accompanied by the mournful dirge of the wind, became a requiem for the fallen, a testament to the fragility of life and the indomitable spirit that resided within the human heart.
The sun began to pierce through the heavy clouds, casting its feeble light upon the battlefield of land and sea, Willem raised his gaze. He would not falter in the face of despair . He would honor the fallen, fight for the dreams that had been lost, and see the fire in his own eyes once more.
As Willem continued his solemn march along the shore, he became aware of a somber congregation of smallfolk. Their presence was a stark reminder that the devastation wrought by war extended far beyond the fallen warriors and into the lives of the innocent. Scavengers, driven by desperation and survival, scoured the wreckage for any semblance of value, their actions a heartbreaking testament to the harsh realities of a world torn asunder. Some scavengers, their faces etched with weariness and sorrow, delicately pulled the lifeless bodies from the tangled flotsam and shattered remnants of once-proud ships. Their hands moved with a reverence born of necessity, for even in death, these fallen souls deserved a modicum of dignity. It was a bittersweet sight, as the scavengers toiled, both driven by the instinct to survive and burdened by the weight of their macabre task.
But amidst the scavengers, Willem's gaze settled upon a group of holyfolk, figures draped in somber robes that denoted their sacred calling. The Silent Sisters, their veiled faces concealing both their grief and their dedication, moved with solemn grace. They tended to the fallen, preparing them for their final journey, cleansing their bodies, and whispering prayers for their departed souls.
Nearby, septas and septons stood in prayerful contemplation, their voices carrying the weight of solace and hope. They offered words of comfort to those gathered, soothing the wounds of loss and lending strength to the weary hearts of the bereaved. The solemnity of their presence added a touch of divinity to the desolate shore, reminding all who witnessed their devotion that even in the darkest of times, faith could still be found.
Willem approached the holyfolk. He watched as they carefully arranged the lifeless bodies upon wooden pyres, creating a solemn assembly of kindling for the flames of farewell. The scent of incense mingled with the acrid remnants of battle, offering a brief respite from the harsh realities that surrounded them.
Moved by a sense of duty and the remnants of his tarnished honor, Willem approached one of the holyfolk, his voice low and filled with quiet resolve. "How may I assist you in this solemn task, sister?" he asked, his weary eyes meeting hers with a flicker of recognition, but then determination.
The sister, her eyes lined with sorrow, offered a faint smile of gratitude. "Your presence alone is a comfort, good knight," she replied, her voice laden with weariness and resilience. "If you would lend a hand in preparing the pyres, it would be a kindness to both the fallen and those left behind." She spoke quickly, but her voice was kept low - reverence was key here.
And so, Willem joined the holyfolk, his weathered hands embracing the weighty responsibility of bidding farewell to the fallen. Together, they placed the bodies upon the pyres, their movements guided by a delicate balance of reverence and practicality. The flickering light of the approaching flames danced upon their faces, a gentle caress of warmth that seemed to offer solace even in the face of tragedy.
Pyres were set ablaze and Willem felt a profound sense of purpose fill his weary heart. He had not witnessed the battle upon the bay, but in this solemn moment, amidst the scavengers and the holyfolk, he became an unwitting witness to the aftermath, a bearer of witness to the cost of war. And in this act of service, he found a flicker of redemption for his tarnished honor, a chance to ease the suffering of others and breathe life into the embers of hope that still glimmered within him.
Together, they stood, smallfolk and knight, united in their shared sorrow and the collective determination to honor the fallen. As the smoke rose skyward, carrying the souls of the departed to realms unknown, Willem's gaze remained fixed upon the flames, his heart heavy with the weight of the fallen and the resolute desire to see the fire in their eyes burn bright once more.

Not constant, but over the past 3-4 years both my wrists have become extremely sensitive in very hard-to-manage ways. Almost any force exerted when turned, like say pushing up on something palm out, shoots pain down the back of my wrist which can cause sensitivity for days. Also twisting now causes issues, like pinky pulling to thumb muscle and moving wrist forward now always hurts under my thumb. I'm only 34, have been a musician much of my life but tried to take a long break for 4-5 months to see if it helped, less computer as well, but the sensitivity never goes away. Doctor visits have been useless, just X-rays and "well I can't see anything, take it easy and maybe it will go away." Quality of life is suffering terribly, any ideas on what could be doing this would help a lot, I've always known to keep an eye out for tendonitis but this just doesn't seem to match. Thanks in advance!

I have had a few relationships between 6th grade to now (2023 at the age of 19). Bit of info I have horrible anxiety and depression, and have a hard time being around people and touched because of an incident that happened at the age of 13 I'm still haunted by.
From the 6th grade to 8th, I've had relationship problems where I'd be touched in places randomly without consent, beaten and bruised up, talked down upon, and used for my body. I was always used for needs from the people I dated that I was so scared to even tell the people I trust. I was particularly abused mentally and physically by an ex who would leave me covered in bruises kicking me as hard as he could leaving me with bruised all on my knee's and leg's where I had to where pants during the summer. He would constantly try to put his hands in my pants even when I said no, (age 14-15) he was much larger than me and stronger so I feared him. I couldn't do anything and people just said he is messing around or playing his stupid game. His friends and him would touch me inappropriately with out warning. I grew used to it that it didn't bother me for the 2 and a half years of it. I had stopped dating him and had dated a few other guys from that group, which all lead to the same cause I had no one else but them. I was the loner of the school.
9th grade, beginning of high school. I had started out as a new person stopped talking to those guys and stayed friends with a few of those girls. I never really felt attraction towards anyone until November of that year. I fell for a tall kind guy who would talk with me, hold my hand, and walk me to class. I thought WOW I'm actually in a nice relationship. It started getting where it wasn't... He started wanting to touch me more and more. Try to have sex with me, but was to scared for that. He even tried to have sex while at my house during a week before Christmas when I had a friend over. I was not really able to do anything since again, he was one of the guys who were bigger than me. After 3 months of that happening I didn't really tell anyone about it I kinda forgot he existed. But the thought still appears and I will remember... But it ended on our 3 months after I found him sexting a girl online on our 2nd month. I showed my friend at the table and the others were curious(his friends) so I showed them. He came back and I confronted him, he denied it all and said it was the year before. The date was a month before this, and before I could say another word he deleted the app it was on (Kik) and said see nothing happened. I broke it off their and never talked to him again. Found out he was hooking up with 3 girls from his friend group and one of the friends he had knew and was a good friend of mine. Never told me one..
A few months later I found another guy (I fall for people to easily if they show me kindness and interest). Again at first he was sweet and took me 2 months to say yes to dating him. (When COVID happened in 2020), We went a few months not seeing each other and just calling. (Usual long distance/ COVID stuff), And just played fortnite since that's all we had for that while. After a few months of lock down he invited me to the beach with his family. I agreed since I was locked up for months, and went with them. It was nice out and such a nice day. They fished I got to try it after years of not doing it. It went nice until school started again. He would want to have his hands on me non stop I wouldn't say no just giggle nervously. It got to where I thought it was just a normal thing I'm a relationship and after another few months.. We did it(I took his v card but don't really wanna go where I lost mine...) I just thought it was a normal high school relationship thing and it went on like that but not how often he wanted. The sexual stopped for a about 5 months, but would touch me or try to have me touch him. And he invited me to the beach again, thought oh ok that would be nice. We went and he said he wanted to do it with me. It was busy so I thought ok next time we can come early so it's not busy. (I was a very people pleasure back than and tried my hardest to make other happy even if I wasn't). So after a few weeks we got to do our plan and when we got there I was anxious and starting to not want to do it. He said it would be fine and nothing to worry about. We started to do the thing but after about 5 minutes or so I got scared and started to cry and have an anxiety attack. He stopped and said what's wrong, and I told him I was having flashbacks. He held me for a few seconds and said he would continue and I was safe. I stopped crying after a bit. I just laid there pretending for about 10 minutes. I looked up at him and just started crying again cause I could handle just thinking of what was happening. He stopped after seeing me shaking violently, and sat back. He was like ok fine just finish me off, and I won't do that again. I sat up trembling tears still down my face, trying my hardest for him. For 30 minutes I couldn't get it for him so he sent me to the front of the car and I sat there in a swimsuit and towel, while he was finishing up. (He was also the type to say if I didn't send or help it was my fault I gave him blue balls). After that he got his stuff up, and he dropped me off at him. I said that's for today, and he just half smiled and said yea it was fun. He drove off, and I didn't hangout with him after that, since he was going to his home state (Alabama) for the rest of the summer. So after a few weeks of getting barely any messages since he was "busy", I messaged him saying goodnight I love you, and that I'm happy I have him. He does the same saying he can't wait to marry me one day. And I wake up the next morning with an " we need to talk" message. I never had one but knew what it meant. He messaged me saying how he cheated on me with a different girl(14) while he was 17 about to be 18. He clearly stated it happened cause "This is what happens when I'm nice to people", I was just annoyed at that. He broke up with me on our 16 month anniversary. A bit goes by and he messages me saying " I'm glad I left she's mentally and physically better than you" I was going through severe depression, and I was binging from anxiety and not able to help it. He then messages me a month and a half later saying she broke up with him. He missed me and wanted to get back together, I said no and can't see him that way ever. We tried to be friend but I blocked him after he said, he would tried to hold back from kissing me. Also the first day back to school said, "you look skinnier" I was wearing a corset or girdle I can't remember the name, but I had it so type I couldn't breathe. I was so insecure about my weight because during that relationship he commented how fat I got, he words let his friends talk shit about me and say shit about me with them. I just couldn't handle any more form him so I ignored him at all costs.
I got in touch with an old friend from 2 years ago, we talked for a month before we found out we both had crushes on eat other back then (16 me) (18 him). We messaged on steam, and I was 18 while he was 21, we knew each other from a game we played constantly and he was drunk a lot on it. He started getting feelings again, and started dating. It went well for a while actually no problems. I felt fine, up until my school trip. (I'm a drop out so this happened after but I was still able to go). I messaged him a lot since I was in his time zone finally! (He's from Germany) I was in Paris than Italy for the 2 weeks. After my first week he stopped messaging me a lot and slowly went it one message a day. After my trip I felt ignored and unwanted. I confronted him about it and he said he was dealing with depression again. I asked him why he didn't tell me in the beginning and could have talked to me since I understand what he was going through. He said he will talk to a therapist the next day. He said that for 2 weeks never going. He would play other games while I waited for a message. I got annoyed of it and told him if he will continue to be like this I won't be around any more. He said ok and agreed to break up. I was heart broken but wasn't heart broken enough to cry anymore. He immediately just went and played games again. I just went to playing the game VRC (VrChat) again. I bought a headset, and was able to hangout with old friends again. (Next part)
I got to hangout with old friends and talk with them. They were really unhinged and some were racist(one was extremely), and I tried to not talk with them. I started to grow a connection for one because he talked with me the most and hung out. We started dating, and everything seemed fine. Well he started to not pay attention to me, and would cry about his ex non stop. I even had to make him not commit 4 times because of missing his ex. I was always telling him to block her, he did and promised to not talk to her. But I would wake up and find out he texted her behind my back because he was worried about her. He would cry everyday about her. For almost a week. He blocked her again out of anger and promised me again he wouldn't talk to her... You can already guess what happened.. Yep he messaged her while I was asleep. I usually would sleep in a lot cause I'd be on late hanging out with a guy I met who actually listened to my problems, he was there before I dated the guy about a week. He even listened when I had to vent about the guy I was with. After that one week I broke it off. He complained about me saying I would always love him. He clearly cared for his ex more than me. (He was 18 while she was 14 barely 15 I believe, and she was very sexual). I would go to find out I had feelings for the guy who actually treated me like a human being. I started to date him a few days later( don't judge me we both realized we had feelings for each other). And that's when the shit bit the wall. My ex spread rumors about me being a slut and going out with the guy I'm with now while I was with him. (I hate the idea of cheating, and never want to or ever will cheat, I show and tell my partner everything if they show respect to me... Btw going on 9months almost 10 and going to see him in July for our almost 1 year). And my ex would send people to threaten me, and even given me death threats to scare me. People who I always talked to and would help in times of need turned against me! I had no one but my bf. After a week my bf had to go to him and say to stop all this! I was crying and scared to join any game I was I thinking I was being followed and going to be threatened. I had no one but him for so long. After a while it all stopped and I wa finally able to change everything and become someone they didn't know who I was. I felt because I was unhappy in that relationship and then found happiness with someone who actually cared. He sent people to threaten me.. That shows who he really was.
After a while I was able to get my relationship now to where it is after a lot of arguing. I'm finally out of my deep depression my anxiety got better I have better friends and family. But I can't say it was me it was the man I'm with now. He helped me escape. Talked to me in the late of nights. I wouldn't be here today. I'm happy he came into my life or I wouldn't be here. Sorry for this being long, but thank you for reading.
Thank you.

So, recently moved here from overseas. Both my wife and I work in central Oxford, currently renting in Kidlington.
Been looking at houses available in the area and slightly further away, 10-15 miles, but honestly have no idea how people in our stage of life can afford to buy a home (3bedrooms with a small garden)?
Or combined yearly income is 90k.
Thoughts, advice, comments?
Are house prices going to drop any time soon or become more realistic?

Here's the pitch. It's very much a work in progress. This is the intended setting for this tabletop RPG: https://www.reddit.com/RPGcreation/comments/13v5iw4/does_this_sound_in_any_way_promising_or_does_it/
The Old World
The truth is, no one remembers much about the old world. People have recorded dreams, visions, and flickers of memory but no concrete picture emerges, just a sense of vastness that would swallow the new world whole. All anyone is sure of is that there was a world before and that much of the language and basic concepts came from that place. How those ideas truly fit together is a mystery.
​
The Breach
The Breach happened 273 year cycles ago. Something truly strange had happened, some event that cut the folk of Ghost Gasket off from the previous world. The memories are nearly as dim as the memories of the old world. Shifting chaos and strangeness and a fracturing of the known rules. Madness. Screaming. And then people woke up, finding themselves in Neo Victoria, a city built in a suspended bubble of glass that's harder than steel. And around the bubble, only an endless maze of airless pipes and tunnels.
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Neo Victoria
A stack of blocks built by a child. A ramshackle collection of mismatched styles. Gilt and poverty are scattered with no discernable pattern. The City seems both familiar and strange to those who found themselves in it. There are baroque stone mansions, tenement buildings, factories, temples, and workhouses. Clockwork abounds. The city seems to function as a vast machine designed to support life in the claustrophobic emptiness of the Tunnels.
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The city was stratified from the very beginning. Some found themselves seemingly in possession of vast wealth while others woke up in small shacks with leaky roofs. People picked up from the Breach as best as they could, trying to find a life in the new world.
​
Humans and Abhumans
Humans aren't the only denizen of the city. Altered humans known as Abhumans exist and seem to be a melding of "normal" humans and stranger lifeforms. They have unusual biologies and strange powers. There are five main types: Changelings, Dhampir, Werebeasts, Nephilim, and Warpspawn. They seem familiar as if they were created to be similar to myths of the old world, but no one is sure why some people woke up altered. Many people find Abhumans repellant, that they inspire hate and superstitious fear. Others see them as just another flavor person. Abhumans usually find themselves in the lower classes regardless of their origins after the breach. Society in general is often rigged against them, with the majority of normal humans controlling them through social rules and outright laws.
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Old Herald
Old Herald lies at the very center of the city, an intricate clock tower. The awoken citizens built a whole new system and calendar based on the machinations of the tower. There are 50 seconds in a minute, 78 minutes in an hour, and two 13-hour shifts. The months consist of 23 days and the year cycle consists of 13 months. During the Day Shift, the city's lights come on and a drizzle of "rain" spills down from plumbing built into the top of Neo Victoria. At night, the lights and rain turn themselves off and darkness reigns. Work is done during Day Shift, with the various poor and working class toiling to build or farm the products needed by the city. The rich control the factories and universities, spending their time managing the flock or trying to puzzle out the mysteries of the New World.
​
The Tesseract Mall
The Tesseract Mall can be found below Old Herald. This ornate cube-shaped building is bigger on the inside than on the outside. It has become the de-facto marketplace for the city. Costermongers, hawkers, hucksters, merchants, and snake oil salesmen ply their wares.
​
Amorphotech - The New Science
As time has passed, the folk of New Victoria have begun to learn the rules of this world. The overall system of thought is called Amorphotech. Matter and energy behave in unusual ways. They have an inner essence that can be separated and distilled known as Amorpho. It is a kind of formless non-substance. Amorpho can, in turn, be transformed into new matter and energy, both the types familiar to Old World memory and new forms wholly unknown to that world.
​
Amorphotech takes two main forms: Alchemy and Amorphic Engineering. Alchemy deals with creating special substances out of Amorpho that have special properties. The known forms of Amorphic Matter are Phlogiston (amorphic gas), Alkahest (amorphic liquid), Manacite (amorphic stone), Orichalcum (amorphic metal), and Bio-Iliaster (an unusual substance that can meld with biological beings).
​
Amorphic Engineering is taking alchemical substances and building devices that take advantage of their properties: pipeships, rayguns, and stranger devices.
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Sorcery - Words of Power
Amorpho can also be manipulated with True Speech, a kind of formulaic language that mixes word concepts with what's called Amorphic Math to create effects. These are called spells and rituals, simply because that's the closest thing New Victorians are familiar with.
​
True Speech can be inscribed on objects and charged with Amorpho to create Relics, magical objects with strange powers. Those who wish to use these activities must attune to them, letting the Amorpho in their bodies and minds flow into the objects and back to form a metaphysical circuit that allows them to use Relics.
​
The Tunnels - A Cosmic Sewer
There are airlocks built into New Victoria. People have been curious about them for some time but had no way to survive an exploration into The Tunnels, the name for the labyrinth outside of New Victoria. Gradually, techniques and technology for exploring beyond the glass emerged. Pipeships are flying ships created using Amorphotech, sealed from the void, and able to traverse the empty spaces of The Tunnels using burning Phlogiston for propulsion.
​
The Tunnels aren't as empty as they seem at first glance. Created artifacts and constructions have been found formed by some form of beings who once lived in the Tunnels but seemingly vanished. These beings have been named the Precursors. Other creatures and entities have been discovered, some hostile, some mere animals, and others so strange that their mere presence is dangerous. There are even gardens and forests nestled within the pipes, made of plants, fungi, and more unusual sessile lifeforms.
​
The Precursor Civilizations
The Precursors don't seem to have been human at all. Sentient, certainly, but the things they left behind seem to be built by alien minds. Many people believe they created The Tunnels and New Victoria, that they are indeed responsible for the folk of the old world finding themselves here.
​
Much of what they created breaks conventional logic and even the new sciences of Amorphotech. They seemed to be able to warp time, space, flesh, and minds into wholly new forms.
​
Cults and Faiths
Strange beliefs abound in New Victoria. Many have formed different faiths and philosophies based on the mysteries of this new world. There are three main faiths in New Victoria: the Universal Pipists, the Exit Seekers, and the Wall Burners.
​
The Universal Pipists believe that there is nothing else but the pipes. That is, the Tunnels extend to infinity, a whole universe of pipes. The Exit Seekers, conversely, think there is something beyond, that an exit can be found out of the Tunnels entirely and into a whole other world or worlds that are much less constricted. The Wall Burners are an offshoot of the Exit Seekers. They believe that an exit will have to be built, that the walls of this universe will have to be breached in order to escape.
​
Political Movements and Social Clubs
There are several other, more political philosophies that formed during the arguments over the years on how to run New Victoria. There are utopian socialists, merchant capitalists, conservative monarchists, technoccult fascists (who believe those who master Amorphotech should rule through authoritarianism), and amorpho-transcendental anarchists. That last group believes that advances in Amorphotech will discover whole new ways to organize society.
​
Others have formed social clubs, ad-hoc organizations formed around some idea or hobby. There are detective clubs, journalism clubs, adventure societies, and amorphotech hobby clubs. These may have connections with other, larger factions in the city or they may be smaller, independent organizations.
​
Finally, there are a few secret societies that are similar to social clubs, except that their membership is closed and hidden. The Hidden Lodge is the oldest. No one is sure what pursuits they engage in but there are rumors that they have ears in every quarter and that they infiltrated their members all over the city.
​
Another secret society is the Raven's Wing, a criminal organization that controls most crime in the city, including illegal vices like drugs, gambling, and prostitution.
​
The final secret society of note is the Toy Breakers, an anti-technology group that is seemingly behind several acts of sabotage, assassination, and other forms of terrorism meant to stop the proliferation of Amorphotech.

The soldiers lined on Ardenholms beaches. Their bright, jewel encrusted armor flashed brightly in the glaring summers sun. The warriors were eager to get on with their game of conquering and subjugating. They were Ardenholmites, Humilauians, and Pommedorans, as well as Tuberite religious warriors hailing from Solanum. They were gathered in Ardenholm to prepare for an imminent invasion from Veritas and their leader, BB.
Ardenholm, Humilau and especially Pommedora were in open rebellion from BB. They thought of him as a tyrannical leader, levying heavy taxes and other unreasonable demands. They finally decided to declare themselves separate from BB, but the turmoil quickly devolved into a fight for control of the entire island chain.
Pommedora was a Tuberist nation, so they called upon their Solanarian brothers to help the fight. The Tuberists, thinking it would be an easy battle, happily joined in.
As the Tuberites made the short voyage to Pommedora, tensions arose. There was an attempt to reestablish diplomatic relations which quickly broke down, resulting in a raid from Veritas on Pommedora, their closest neighbor.
The Tuberites arrived far too late to join the fray, but fortunately the raid was mostly scared off before any real fighting could occur, and the casualties were 6 in Pommedora, after a single arrow barrage and 8 Veritasian raiders who brought their boat too close to the walls and were sunk by a well placed explosive firework.
Thus began an alarmingly fast arms race. Both sides were on islands, so a full force invasion was not viable…yet. Seemingly overnight the once windswept and backwater islands in rebellion turned to industry. The once salty and warm air choked with the smoke from the flames of fires roaring in their mighty hearths. Peaceful and sunny harbors because overrun with heavy bots of war.
Veritas kept pace with the industrial might and the islands were equal in strength. Both bought mercenaries to fight, but Veritas gained a significant upper hand by taking a hefty loan from bankers overseas and buying much better metals than could ever be reaped from the earth on the barren island chain.
Finally the mines were depleted of what little resources they could muster. Though bright earthen metals were occasionally still warm from being melted and pounded into their molds.
With no more brawn games to play, both sides made a quick shift to mind games. Spies. Spies everywhere. In the streets. In the factories. In the harbors. Everywhere. Private conversations became public knowledge overnight. The town square of Ardenholm ran red with the blood of those suspected of treason.
Next came the starvation. The already small fields had been neglected because the farmers had been made to become factory workers. This time, the rebellion got the upper hand, with the Tuberists providing food from their vast fields back in Solanaria. Veritas attempted a naval blockade to stop the shipment of food from arriving. The Tuberists didn’t slow down. The naval commander ordered them to hold. The Tuberists, already very near to the maximum pace, almost appeared to speed up. Finally they stopped just outside of cannon range. They waited in a locked stalemate for 3 days until the Veritasians ran out of water and were forced to return to port. Thus, they spent the winter on meager rations and had to sell some of their newly bought steel to pay for food.
Finally, after a long and cold winter of light eating and intense stare-offs, the spring blossomed in the remaining fields.
The Veritasians had survived the winter by the skin of their teeth and knew that they could not survive another winter. This years winter had been astoundingly warm (by West Phagosian standards). In fact, this was the warmest winter ever recorded.
Over on Pommedora, which at this point had been established as the capital, the situation was almost as grim. The Tuberists, who were creeping up on a years time spent on an island were becoming increasingly obstinate and downright treasonous. They longed to go back to their homeland, and run on green fields, with gently rolling hills bordered by lush, fertile marshes, encased by the great mountains far to the west, just where the eye could see them. They downright despised the cramped island.
Tensions were starting to boil over on all sides of the war, until finally the spy game did its job. The Pommedorans received definitive proof that the Veritasians would be sailing for a “surprise” attack on Ardenholm in one months time. This was the break they needed and with this knowledge they could easily win the war.
Under the cover of darkness they began to very slowly and methodically ship soldier to Ardenholm. They arrived on mail boats and pleasure crafts, in wine barrels and tiny crude rafts. Simultaneously, these same craft evacuated the women and children, bringing them safely to Pommedora.
Then, the day before the battle, an idea was had. It was decided that instead of defending the city they should go on the offensive while the opposing military was away. The idea was they would go quickly to Veritas and slay BB, and then swiftly bring his head back over to Ardenholm where his army, seeing that they had nothing to fight for, would surrender.
There were problems with this plan, though. The entire army was already on Ardenholm, and Pommedora was still the closest island to Veritas, so it would make no sense to keep an army anywhere but there. Also, the ships would probably sail right by each other on their way to conquer their respective islands.
“None the matter with these details” said the commanders, “This plan is too good to pass up.”
And thus we pick up where we started, with the solders, armed to the teeth, sitting in the early morning sun, waiting for their boats to take them to Veritas.
They boarded and set off. 1/10 of the army was left behind to There was nothing but excitement as they lost sight of the shore. The soldiers were tremendously confident in their plan.
The boats sailed for 38 minutes without interruption.
Suddenly, a lookout sounded their horn. The soldiers instantaneously switched from their excited and eager chatter to silence as they looked on the horizon, expecting to see a fleet of opposing ships.
Instead they saw a tiny island. Barely even an island. More like a sad sandbar. The entire island was completely covered in Veritasian troops. They were all standing on the island, their bodies facing the fleet. They were all watching the fleet sail by.
All wielded a dull blue trident, the color of cold and drear ocean
Then one, the commander most likely, stepped forth and walked slowly to the edge of the shore, about 10 feet. He stopped at the edge and dipped the pronged fork of his trident into the water
Not a single eye strayed from his trident as it leapt to life. It’s dull and sad color replaced by an electric blue. The blue started from where the water touched the prongs and snaked down the trident at a decently fast pace.
Then he did the most unexpected thing of all, and fell face first into the water. All eyes remained on where he fell. The seconds ticked by. 15. 30. 60. 90. Was he dead? 120. Then at 133 exactly he sprang from the water. His right hand clamped so tightly around his trident his knuckles were bleached like dead coral. He sailed 50 meters in the air, well above the masts of the boats, and about 150 meters towards the boats.
Then his army all seemingly sprang to life and walked swiftly to the waters edge. It was a trap! They didn’t pause for dramatic effect like he did, diving headfirst into the water and sailing through the air with almost no delay.
The archers attempted to ready their bows but the boats were already packed tight with men, horses, cannons, and all sorts of equipment of war.
The tridenteers sprang forth and plunged into the ocean like rain. A hundred a twenty, they numbered. They rapidly began closing the distance. The archers pulled back their bows and waited for them to get into firing range. They quickly closed in. Finally, they were in shooting distance and they fired. None of the shots struck. In fact, none even came close. The soldiers were simply too small to hit accurately, especially from a rocking boat.
The tridenteers then passed overhead, and did the most unexpected thing of all. A few reached into their pouches and pulled out a single gray stick about the size of a baton. They then dropped them.
All of the tridenteers possessed 8 of these sticks, so most waited until they had clear shots to drop. A few thought they did right then, and threw their sticks towards the ships.
All except one missed. It was tremendously hard to fire accurately while trying to dodge projectiles.
The one that didn’t miss sailed down, down, down until it landed barely on the port side of a medium sized Humilauian cruiser. The wood of the boat was no match for the explosion that rang out. The front port side was torn. The water spout produced from the explosion went 15 meters into the air.
The ship sank in 2 minutes.
Immediately it’s neighboring boats turned sharply to rescue the screaming survivors. The tridenteers passed about a kilometer away from the boats before veering to the left and turning to made another pass.
The ships were thoroughly spooked, and most moved to do evasive maneuvers.
Suddenly, three powerful horn blasts rang out. This was the sign to press forth. The ships readjusted course to fan out, but 9 blasts rang out, the sign to stick together.
A second pass was made with 2 ships sunk. Another pass was made, but no ships were sunk. Than another with no ships. Another with 1. Another with 1. Another with none. This continued until 87 passes were made. There were 137 boats in total at the beginning, 7 large, 38 medium and 94 small. 93 remained. There were 4 large boats remaining (the 3 that were sunk had been sunk at the very beginning), 15 medium boats, and 75 small boats. Almost all of the surviving medium and large boats had tied themselves together with rope and formed a sort of floating pontoon. This greatest increased the sailing time, and a journey of 3 hours took 6.
Not all of the ships that were lost had sunk. Of the 19 small boats that were not present in the final fleet, only 2 had actually been sunk.
There had been a sort of mutiny aboard some of the smaller boats after the 8th pass. 2 of the 7 large boats had been hit and were sinking and the situation was looking very dire. In the rear, 9 of the small boats and 8 of the medium boats (the medium boats were the very end of the fleet) all mutinied against their captains, with three being stabbed to death and one being cast into the sea and turned around back to Ardenholm. Watching them sail away nearly caused the entire fleet to break apart but they were guided by a common foe.
A few of the boats lagged behind. 4 medium boats couldn’t keep pace due to being non-fatally struck and turned around. The tridenteers were more given orders to at least damage the ships heavily enough to force them to turn around, so they allowed those ships to flee.
3 small ships, in an interesting turn of fate, were nearest to the islands when the bombing started. They were the ones who had sounded the alarm. The tridenteers had passed over them entirely without dropping a single bomb. They were still horrified watching the preliminary carnage before the ships could form up, and decided to run themselves around on the tiny island the Veritasians had started out in.
They hid under the 6 palm trees for 8 days, not knowing anything about the status of any of the nations. They survived by eating the horses they had brought and drinking the wine they had brought which they were going to celebrate with once the island was conquered.
Finally, after 6 hours, the boats sighted Veritas. The midday sun was high in the air and the archers could not see the trident weilders through the sun, accelerating their losses.
Veritas looked abandoned. The alarm has been raised but very few troops were on the walls, looking very frightened.
The soldiers let out a halfhearted cheer upon laying eyes on the island. The Veritasian tridents veered right after the fleet made their way into the smooth natural harbor.
The tridenteers had only lost 11. 7 from lucky bow shots, 3 from the binding from their wrists to their tridents slipping off, and 1 stupid soldier who tried to land on a small boat and was instantly slain.
The boats neared the docks of Veritas. The harbor wasn’t much of a harbor at all, only having a narrow wave-break sandspit that only extended past a third of the docks.
The boats made passes towards the docks, with some soldiers being so desperate to get off of them they leaped from the boats and swam to shore.
The boats all started to unload as normal, with horses being placed on the shore and equipment to breach the great gate of Veritas being unloaded
Suddenly the great gate of Veritas, which was expected to be a large obstacle swung open and half of Veritas’s army (still a formidable number mind you) roared forth, banging their shields and sprinted at the unprepared rebels.
This was not expected at all, and no precautions for this had been taken. The rebels on the beach all turned to run back to the boats when, alas! The tridenteers reappeared from out of nowhere behind the boats. They hurtled towards the boats, flying much more recklessly now, and dropped their bombs. The boats were not moving this time, and 8 were struck.
In the same run, 47 of the tridenteers dropped their explosives on top of the docks, blowing all except two up.
This mostly stranded the peoples on the shore, whose only option now was the rowboats from the large ships. Some ran towards those but right then the charging army from the gates slammed into those on the shore.
18 rowboats were cast off, from the beach and the rest were not able to. The battle for the beach was a terrible situation for the rebels with them being completely pinned against the sea.
1/6 of the seaborn army was slain and 1/6 of the army surrendered on the beach, totaling 1/3 of invasion, or exactly 642 men.
The boats tried to leave the harbor but all tried to leave at once and a few collisions occurred. The boats that made it out were harassed by the tridenteers the entire time.
To top it off, the winds were blowing in an awful direction and most of the boats were blown far to the right. They nearly crashed into an walled peninsula. The horn of orders was silent because the ship they were on had taken a direct hit and was rapidly sinking.
Due to the lack of orders, all ships had their own idea of what to do. Most of them thought that the wind was far too unfavorable to set into open water so decided to land on the peninsula. About 1/3 decided to try the winds and sailed in various directions to various islands. This time, the tridenteers could harass them all they wanted and most would not get far.
Those who landed on the peninsula were met with an immediate problem. Unloading. Most of the men jumped overboard to swim to shore and some ships went completely unmanned before being either sunk or captured by the opposing force.
There was one final factor that was at play. The peninsula itself. It was very long and narrow. So narrow that a tridenteer could safely jump all the way over it without being dashed apart on the rocks.
A single tridenteer sprang fourth. Their bright blue trident electric against the sky, which was growing progressively cloudier. They reached into their pocket and pulled out one of the sticks. They lazily let it go before safely landing in the water on the other side.
They didn’t even have to aim. It exploded on the peninsula and some were caught in the blast.
The other tridenteers followed suit. There were only 26 archers still armed as almost all of them had either abandoned their gear or were weighed down by it trying to swim over and drowned.
The entire peninsula was scourged. The walls extended to the beach on either side, and the coast became far too treacherous and rocky to swim around.
40% of the entire army was slain on the peninsula. A further 20% (of the men on the peninsula) surrendered and only 19 men escaped. 9 on a rowboat that was let go because of its irrelevance and 10 somehow survived the swim around the walls and ran up the island before stealing a sailboat and escaping.
Those that turned around and fled immediately suffered casualties, but not to the scale of this. About 5% of the army died on the sail back from getting picked off. Most of the tridenteers ran out of ammunition.
A grand total of 67% of the army perished in this advancement. A further 14% surrendered and of those, 1% died in prison from disease or starvation. 1,531 men in total lost their lives.
As for the boats, of the ones that made it to Veritas, none of the large ships survived, 4 of the medium ships made it back (2 were captured, 9 sank) and 29 of the small ships made it back (38 sunk, 8 captured). Of the 18 rowboats that were on the beach during the initial beach attack, 15 landed on the peninsula, with the other three rowing all the way to Pommedora.
Those that escaped ended up on all manner of islands in the surrounding area. One boat drifted with only one man on board for 8 days. He too survived off of horseflesh but also was lucky enough to get rainwater.
The other half of Veritas’s army had taken a longer route to Ardenholm. Ardenholm somehow managed to pull off an astonishing victory, despite being outnumbered 5-1. They were helped by the crew that had mutinied initially. They made use of their thick walls and used a turtle strategy to wait for help, until after 24 hours when they realized that something had gone seriously wrong, when they then went on a sudden offensive, catching the Veritasian army completely by surprise because they had grown used to not being shot at.
The Ardenholm fighters used bows and a ridiculously large pile of arrows to shoot at the invaders non-stop until they finally gave up and went home. They were significantly hampered by not having the other half of their army. Both sides suffered relatively minor casualties, with Ardenholm losing 19 men and Veritas losing exactly 100.
Veritas lost 48 of their 120 tridenters, with the vast majority being lost by flying too close to the boats and being shot with arrows. Their armor suffered a loss total of 329.
This defeat left the rebels in shock. Their entire standing army had been effectively wiped out. They would start having to recruit younger men and paying more for mercenaries.
The Tuberists had taken the highest casualty rate, with an unimaginable 80% casualty rate and 16% captured. Only 4%, or just 16 men on one small boat, managed to make it back. When the elder potatoes learned about this, they were understandably shocked and devastated and justifiably withdrew all future support. They claimed that the Tuberites had been used as cannon fodder and that that was an stupidly high casualty rate for a defensive mission. They had lost every single one of their ranking officers they had sent on that mission and demanded insanely high rates of compensation. It wasn’t until the battle was thoroughly explained and they were promised that all the islands would convert to Tuberism that they agreed to help once more.
The defeat would likely turn the tide in Veritas’s favor unless the rebels had an ace up their sleeves…
And that is the story of one of the worst strategical blunders in Stoneworks history.
This story is based around the truth. Ardenholm was indeed attacked by Veritas and BB after rebelling with Pommedora and Humilau. The Tuberists did indeed help out for religious reasons. There was indeed a failed charge counterattack which was poorly planned and the casualty numbers are accurate if you combine the dead and captured and just consider them all dead. The Veritasians did indeed use tridents to pick most of us off, and I myself died. This would have easily cost us the battle as we lost 80% of our total gear and didn’t really have enough time to make a proper repot. We used the good old 0-armor-stone-axe-rush strategy and only won because they placed capture points underwater which is illegal. So yeah the next battle is in a week (I think) and we have a LOT of grinding to do haha.
Also Stoney hmu if you ever want any scriptwriting help. I love to do this.
If you read this far um gg I guess
- lnedible

Previous
If I were to guess, I’d imagine they took Andrew to Boss Harold before anyone else and the rumors around Golgotha seemed to support this supposition; the Bosses enjoyed their personal retribution away from the eyes of citizens, maybe it was talking or maybe more, and although there were whispers of the boy being strung up on the wall or maybe he’d be violated in the stocks for all to see, I imagined that the council I held with Boss Harold might’ve had something to do with that never materializing. When I was allowed to the boy’s cell, it was dark, and his face was bruised and the bandaging I’d applied to his severed wrist had been removed probably for amusement. The room was small and there were no windows and only a single doorway let out into the hallway which contained other cells and further, near the exit, there was the office of wall men. The guard that’d let me in locked the door behind me and Andrew sat on a metallic cot without cushioning, and he stared at the grimy floor through swollen eyes.
“Hello,” he said. And I was taken aback by the comment because he spoke it as quickly as he might passing a person in the street. He'd been through so much that the word was abrupt, skittish. I nodded and moved to him, reaching for his arm where he’d been nearly fatally wounded. It was infected. Without fighting me, he allowed me to tend to it without even a question; I wiped it and applied salve. Once it was cleaned and rewrapped and only after I’d settled on the cot beside him, he spoke again, “I heard stories about the cells, but I never thought they’d smell.”
I withdrew a handful of antibiotics, and he took them without putting them to his mouth. “You should have them,” I said, “You might lose the whole arm if not.”
“I might lose my life.”
“Maybe not,” I offered a grim smile and water with for the pills. “You’re alive still.”
“How much longer though?” He took the medicine and grimaced hard. The boy looked older than he was. “It smells like blood here. I can smell the people that’ve been here before.”
I patted him on the back and removed myself from the cell and he did not call after me, not even to ask for the return of his hand and I hoped that I could stave off whatever tortures the Bosses might have in store for him.
It’d been two days since I’d returned with Dave and Andrew and quickly after our arrival, I’d tried departing from the man and hoped he’d drop whatever revenge he believed I could assist him with, but it was to no avail for he attended everywhere with me since our return to Golgotha. Although he’d not been allowed to enter the cells alongside me, he was waiting for me outside as I stepped through the wall men’s office and into the noonday sun; I deftly plucked a pre-rolled cigarette from my pocket and tried at lighting it but before I’d even gotten the chance, he was there at the stoop of the office, pestering, “We should go somewhere quiet,” he said.
“What do you take me for exactly?” I asked while maintaining eye contact with the flame off a match.
“You’re capable enough. You could be a hero. I’d do it with you. We could scrounge up a handful of people and change things. We really could.” Dave was casting sidelong glances at those that passed us in the dirt street just off the stoop, but nary one seemed to care about our conversation.
“Leave it.”
“I won’t.”
I sighed.
He put a hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off.
Felina’s was a structure partially built from ancient shipping containers directly in the heart of the hydroponics towers in the center of town; the chicken shit smell from the base of the towers came with nauseating stagnation and could make a passerby sick, but upon entering Felina’s, the smell subsided and was replaced with the smell of body sweat. The older barwoman stood behind the counter and me and Dave took up on the far corner where we sat around an old card table, using crates as chairs; no one else was there—the smell of the hydro towers probably had some hand in that.
Dave took in close to me so that I could feel the moisture off his breath, “I’ve been talking to a few others over at the towers and they feel the same way I feel—but with you—well without you I don’t think I’d want to do it.”
“No, please go on without me,” I slanted my body across the table to push my face away from Dave’s; with me positioned with my back against the wall, I spied Felina beyond the counter, arms across her chest and watching us with an air of suspicion. She came to our table, slowly with her club foot and upon reaching us, she used our table for mild support with her big hands and greeted us without excitement.
Dave asked for water and her gaze shifted to me and I dismissed her, and we were alone till she limped back over with a pitcher and glass and Dave drank it greedily while Felina watched on from beyond the counter—her eyes suspicious but pretty blue too. She kept the haft from a dismembered axe behind the counter and was known to throttle unruly patrons with it.
Although some might have called Felina’s a bar, it was just short of it because of the rarity of spirits—besides, it was the upstairs brothel portion that the establishment owed to its popularity. Anyone might brave the smell from the street for companionship and if the noises from the rusted overhead support beams were anything to measure, the clientele was content indeed. A man descended from the stairs by the bar, gave a brief nod to Felina then to us and disappeared through the front door; a waft of the outside air rushed in, and Dave scrunched his nose.
“It’s a funny thing, I’ve passed by here all the time, but I don’t think I’ve been inside since before—” he paused, “Well, since before anyway.” He took a drink of water and rubbed his palms against his cheeks. “I know someone that works underground and could get us some gunpowder.”
I merely laughed at this. “Gunpowder, huh?”
“Well sure. The Bosses have reserves in the basements. We could blow them sky high.”
“More likely that you’d blow your hands off.”
“What’s it going to take to convince you?”
I thought, “Could you promise no one would die?”
Dave seemed baffled at the question. “Who cares?”
“These things hardly ever happen quietly—or without collateral. How’s this? Could you promise that no innocents get caught in stray fire?”
“Yes.”
“Then you are as ill prepared as I’d imagined.”
“What’s that mean?”
“The meek are intended to inherit, but many will die before all that.”
“What?”
“Nothing. I wish you’d leave it be.”
Another patron stumbled down the stairs, a scrawny tall man with a thin beard came charging into the chamber without clothes and a voice followed him, crying loudly, “Sonofabitch tried choking me!” A pair of arms and legs came stumbling down after—the source of the cries. There was a topless woman, a belt secured around one of her wrists and a pink mark around her throat. The naked man protested and put up his hands as the woman swung the arm with the belt and whipped at him with it, striking across the forearm he’d shielded himself with.
Felina moved carefully from around the counter, raised the haft, then brought it down across the man’s back. He stumbled to his knees, pleading. The barwoman raised the weapon once more and the sound was like wood against wood as it met the man’s head and his body was taken to the ground completely, perhaps dead, perhaps unconscious. The two women lifted the man out the door and Felina spat through the opening. Outside wind came again and Dave scrunched his nose once more before the door shut. The topless woman removed the belt from around her wrist, tossed it to the floor, then secured an arm across her chest before hurrying upstairs.
“So, gunpowder?” I asked Dave.
He nodded and took another drink of water while eyeing Felina as she took herself back to the counter and stowed the makeshift club into whatever place she kept it. “Yeah.”
“Go for it then and leave me out of it.” I fiddled with my thumbs across the table. “I’ll even make you a deal for when you come running to me for help later. If you blow your fingers off, I’ll try and help you find them. How’s about that?”
“I’ll wear you down.”
Another gust of wind came from the far door and I half expected to see the man that’d been removed there in the doorway, standing on his feet and ready for another round of punishment, but there was no one there in the hollow spot; as my gaze drifted from person-face level, I saw a medium sized mutt there in gray fur, pushing the door in with its nose and then sliding the rest of its starved body through—each of its yellowy sad eyes peered in and I could not tell the breed but Dave lifted himself from his seat and Felina went to the dog too.
“No dogs,” stated the woman.
Dave, the indomitable sweetheart that he was knelt to the dog’s face and touched its snout; it licked his hand and Dave said to Felina, “He’s not mine, but have you got some water for him?”
“No dogs inside. I don’t like repeating it.”
“Fair enough,” said Dave, “I don’t know who he—” he froze and then examined the rear of the dog before petting the dog on the head, “She belongs to, but I’ll take her outside. Just. Please some water, won’t you?”
The barwoman first drummed her fingers against her leg then went to the counter and I noticed Dave flinch as she reached under there, but she came back with a bowl and he took it and ushered the dog out; as he exited, he called to me, and I sighed and moved with him.
Remaining in the street was the man that’d been tossed out, face up, half-opened eyes, and flies buzzed about, and I touched him with my foot, but he didn’t move. Blood leaked from his ears. “Dead,” I said.
Dave took the dog from the body around to the side of the building and the feces smell was strong with the hydro towers, but he sat the water down and the dog went at it quickly, without restraint and spilt half before the man went to steady it with his hand; he knelt by the dog and pushed a shoulder against the wall of the brothel.
“There you go,” I told him, “You’ve found someone dumb enough and maybe loyal enough to follow through with your little gunpowder plan. Strap a handful of dynamite to him and watch him go boom in the Boss’s faces.” I genuinely did try it as a joke.
“You can be very mean,” said Dave.
Once the bowl was dry besides dog spit, he returned it to Felina, reentering briefly, and it was just me and the dog and the dog looked up at me and I turned away while its voice whined in the back of its throat and I took a piece of hardtack from my pocket and tossed it on the ground—the dog went after it, assuredly snapping up dirt in the process. Then the creature made a dry and throaty sound from swallowing too quickly, but moments after the thick cracker was gone. It licked my hand gently, and I scratched its chin and Dave returned and upon seeing me with the dog, he gave me a look and then brought himself to the height of the dog in a hunker.
“Hey there,” he said to it, “Someone’s beat you up pretty bad, huh?” It was true; scars stood out in places where the dog had no fur.
In response, the weathered mutt hoisted its forepaws onto his knees and pushed its nose into his.
“Yeah, girl,” he took one of the dog’s ears between his forefinger and thumb and rubbed it gently and the animal looked up, sad eyed, “What’s a good name for you?”
“Dog-meat?” I proposed.
Dave shook his head. “What sort of sick joke is that?” but he was smiling, “No. I’ll come up with something to call her. Isn’t that right?” He asked the dog, massaging the face of the animal with his thumbs; the dog stared dumbly at him. “Maybe a Beth or a Patty might suit you. How do you like them?”
The dog licked his face but couldn’t speak.
“Well,” I said, “It’s a shame it got you, you’ll pick a person name for it and that’s strange. Why not call her Mary if you want a person name?”
“Bah,” said Dave, rising to a full stand; momentarily, even with the other folks passing us in the street, he took a moment to see the dead man we’d passed on our way out of Felina’s and for a moment he remained quiet. “I’ll come to you again Harlan. Maybe when I’ve got more of a plan. I only hope you’ll listen to the stuff I’ve said about it. I really do. I really hope you’ll be on the right side of this thing.”
“Sides are overrated.”
Dave put a hand on my shoulder, “Of course,” he nodded, “Whatever you say.”
He left with his new friend—the dog following him traced from left to right close behind Dave and I watched him take off and around the nearest hydro tower and I was alone on the street and evening wouldn’t be far away, so I took to home while staring at my moving feet and speaking to no one. A few people along the way tried nodding at me or saying a small greeting here or there, but I was absorbed in my own head, and nothing took me from it once I got going. Maybe that was one of the reasons I enjoyed the wastes; there were no pretenses out there and with the constant thought of death there was no other thing to think about than each passing moment. I could not shut my thoughts up. I could ramble more about the motivations of a scavver, but I don’t think I should—leave that for someone that cares.
Upon taking the catwalks where I could look out on a swatch of Golgotha with the sun beating down and the constant hum of people going about their business, I was frozen on the railing and wishing I’d taken my own life and wishing that Dave had not found me out there; maybe if I was faster or smarter or better in whatever way that mattered.
I pushed into the door into my small abode and cool blood pushed through my body on seeing the robed girl there on my mattress, holding a shotgun with its barrel angled directly at me; she donned a flowy mess of dresses and kept her head wrapped in garb so that only her eyes shone through, but her arms stuck from the mess of cloth and I could see they were skinny with long scab marks like a blade had drawn across the flesh.
“Harlan?” asked the girl.
“Is that mine?” I nodded at the pump-shotgun in her hands. The slowness of the world was gone, and I could think again; if things were different, I’d have been a dead man, but it was unloaded, and I knew it.
“It was hanging on the wall—I don’t know how to use the thing anyway. I don’t know what I was doing with it,” she said, “You just scared me, and I didn’t know who you might’ve been.”
“This is my place.”
She laid the shotgun on the bed and unwrapped her face; it was Gemma, “You were with Andrew.”
“I was.”
“You said he was dead.”
I brought in air slowly through my nose. “I did.”
“You lied.”
I nodded, letting the air come out.
“Why?”
“I needed to find you.”
“But you found us both then, I guess.”
“Not on purpose.” A thought occurred to me, “Does you father know where you are right now?”
She shook her head; although rest had done her good, there was still a fair amount of fatigue present on her. “I snuck out.”
“Would’a though you learned your lesson on that front.”
“Is Andrew okay? No one will tell me anything about it.”
“He’s locked up right now, but he is alive. For how long? I don’t know. I figured your pop paid a visit to him already—wouldn’t you know about that?”
She shook her head again. “Woo,” Gemma slumped onto the side of my mattress and gathered the robes around her, “I’m feeling faint.”
I moved to the bed and gathered the shotgun, putting it back on the hooks in the wall. “You shouldn’t break into people’s homes.”
Cupping her brow in a hand so that I could only see her mouth and the bottom of her nose, she said, “I just needed to know he was alive. These past days I’ve been so worried about him. I knew you told me he was dead, but I knew you were a liar too. So, I had bad thoughts about what might’ve happened to him out there. If what happened to me was anything to go off.” Her voice broke for a moment and then she pulled her hand from her face and blinked a few sudden times. “I just.”
“I get it. You love the boy.”
She nodded without looking at me.
“So, beg your dad to let him go.”
“Everyone’s so mad at him. It’s funny that everyone’s so mad at him, but it was my idea, and they all treat me like a darling little flower. Like I couldn’t have been the one with the idea of running away. I had more reason to run than he ever did.”
“You should leave.”
“I don’t want to. Can’t you see that’s what I’ve been saying? Judge all you like. Call me rich all you like, but I can tell you this: I don’t feel like it.” Gemma grabbed the edge of the bed as her head wavered on her shoulders. “Dizzy spells are awful.” She shook her head. “Like no sickness ever.” Her eyes locked on mine. “Help me.”
“I’ve already tried convincing them not to kill him.” Taking a pause, I thought to add, “And I personally saw to his injuries. Please go and leave me be.”
“Oh, but you’ve asked for it,” she said, “You put yourself in the business of it.”
“Look. All’s I wanted was to save you if I could and get the water running again. That’s it. Now go.” I put my arm up to wave her out the door and she stood to make her way there, catching herself on the frame, then out on the catwalk railing before turning and looking at me over her shoulder.
“Bastard.” she said.
“Yes.” The door shut between us, and I took myself to sitting on the bed’s edge and reminiscing over how Dave reminded me so much of Jackson. Jackson was a real tough one; whatever happened he always kept a cool head (so I reckon him and Dave would be different in that way) and the idea of being a hero was so big for him. It’s a curious thought: whether Dave would have such ideas if hadn’t been for the tragic loss of his family.
The shotgun sat on there on the wall, and I took it and looked over it, putting the stock in my left hand then my right and laid it across my legs; the woven strap on it had gone thin so that the place I’d once worn it over my shoulder was mostly threadbare. I moved to the cabinet by the sink where I kept a few essentials and in the very back there was an old box of shells—it was a surprise they still seemed good, but with old ammo you never could tell, and the shells were just as likely to fire true as they might be to never send pellets from the barrel. I took a knife and began whittling into a shell I’d plucked from the box. Pellets spilled between my feet as I sat on the bed and they rolled across the floor and then I found the gunpowder and rose again, sprinkling it onto the cabinet top into a neat pile. Dave said he had a fella’ he knew that worked in the underground—the sort of person that could get him all the gunpowder he needed. Was he familiar with its destructive force; had he ever fired a gun? He promised me no one innocent would die and I knew that was a lie and there’s surely a piece of him that knew it was a lie just as well.
It was just then as I took a forefinger and thumb and pinched up a bit from the gunpowder splat that I remembered a thing that Jackson told me all the time when he thought none of the others were listening. The gunpowder rained from my fingertips as I rubbed them together and I sniffed the place where they’d become sooty, taking in a smell I’d not smelled in a long time. Jackson would say, “Whoever fights monsters should be sure that he don’t become a monster.” It wouldn’t be for a long time—after I’d visited the libraries in Alexandria or Babylon (take your preference)—till I realized it was a quote that Jackson stole from some guy named Neet-chee. It seemed like a good thing to adhere to, and it was certainly something I wasn’t good at keeping with and if I couldn’t then there was little certainty that Dave would keep to it either. Maybe I had become a monster; morally dubious anyway.
Jackson was a hero, and he was dead as was Sibylle as was Billy as was John and all of them. We’d tried heroing and it got all of us dead. Almost all of us.
I hung the shotgun on the wall and left it there and swept the gunpowder into the floor with a flat palm where the pellets were and chucked the box of old shells into the cabinet again.
Ringing of bells came from the hall of the Bosses and it was time for a display. Denizens gathered in the front square by the gates and awaited while they trotted out Andrew; perhaps the words I’d passed to Boss Harold rang hollow after all. The Bosses were there just as always, drinking their wine on the platform, and Maron was out front with his wall men in the semicircle of gathered Golgotha residents. Of the population, only a hundred or two gathered for this poor boy’s execution. The guards had, at some point after my departure, removed the bandage on his empty wrist and he looked more sickly in the face than before and his cheeks were swollen and he wept, seemingly not from the terror of it but from the skin around his eyes having been so damaged; tears came through swelled eyelids and a wall man kept him by the elbow and Maron marched to the boy and lifted the boy’s face with his hand to look into it and maybe he whispered something to him.
I weaved through the crowd, moving to the steps that led to the stage where the Bosses stood with their foods and wines and their plenty and upon approach, I was stopped by a wall men, but upon catching Boss Harold’s eye, he told the guard to let me through and I took the stairs and from the platform, I could see over the crowd—Dave was far in the rear of those gathered, totally disconnected from the others for he hunkered by a set of crates, patting the head of the dog we’d found just earlier in the day. For a moment, I wished I was there with him and not on the stage at all.
“Dear boy!” Boss Harold shouted at me over the excited jeers of the others, “It’s so good to see you again. You are quite the hero, and it’s always good to be in the company of those.”
I nodded at him and within a flash, he’d slammed his cup of wine into my hand, telling me to drink, and only moments passed before his own cup was replaced by a nearby servant. “We spoke about this?” I tried.
His face was red, and I could just make out the miniscule veins vibrant along the corners of his nose; the man was far gone drunk. “That boy’s been a thorn in my side for too long, so I know you understand it when I say that he needs punishment. I took all that you said into account,” his words slurred, and the sweet sick came off him in a breath of hot air when he pulled me in, resting his ear on my shoulder. “Nobody dies today, but ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’,” the Boss paused. “You’re not a father yourself, are you?”
I shook my head.
“Ah! Then you might not be familiar with that proverb required in bringing a child up in this world.” Boss Harold laughed. “I’d never take my sweet Gemma out in the square like this, but God there’s been times I’ve wanted it. ‘Spare the rod’.” He repeated. “But we’ve something a fair bit more interesting than a rod for that boy.” Boss Harold swayed on his feet and took the fist containing his cup of wine, pointing with his index finger at the open place by the wall where Maron and Andrew and the wall men were. “Speaking of!” Boss Harold was giddy, and he took a magnificent gulp from his cup, throwing his head far back. “You’re a learned man, yes?”
“What?”
“You know how to read? Maron said something about your reading. That’s a rare quality! I’d love to talk about books with you sometime. I’ve my own personal collection.”
The wall men stripped Andrew of his clothes then threw them to the ground and a gasp escaped the audience and the boy shouted and Maron moved to a nearby bucket and reached into the mouth of the container, coming back to a full stand; a whip was coiled around his arm. The Bosses didn’t even look on. The punishment was for the benefit of Boss Harold, and not even he looked on. He jabbered on about how he’d like to speak with me over an old philosophy called Objectivism then he went on about how he’d learned long ago the greatest achievement of man was his own happiness and I listened to the drunk man and when the whip broke skin the first time, I’m sure Andrew felt every bit.
Blood exploded in violent dew off his back and the crack of the whip struck the boy till he couldn’t stand and then several times more. Splatter reached onlookers each time Maron lifted the whip over his head, and it was only once the boy stopped moving that the Boss Sheriff swaggered over to inspect him; Andrew had fallen face down and Maron took his boot to the boy’s side so that the boy rolled onto his back and seconds passed without movement and even Boss Harold quit with his talking. The prone body just lay there and for a moment Andrew looked like the body I’d seen earlier out front of Felina’s. Then the boy spasmed and gasped air and Maron shouted about how he was still alive before giving the toe of his boot to Andrew’s ribs.
“What a show,” said the Bosses—what a show indeed.
The crowd dispersed in clumps, taking back to their jobs or leisure and I left the platform only after agreeing that Objectivism sounded good and Boss Harold laughed and stumbled in pivoting to take on in conversation with the other Bosses and I briefly imagined giving him a nudge, so he’d fall off the stage, but refrained from doing so.
When I met the boy lying in the dirt there, there was me and Dave moved in too and Maron had taken to his station where there was a table by sandbags, and he was engrossed in a game of solitaire; it seemed the man was totally unfazed by the justice he’d dealt. There was a time when that body could’ve been a hero and yet there he was, poisoned.
I called out to the Boss Sheriff, “Ain’t you going to put him back to his cell?”
Without even looking over, Maron swept his mustache with his fingers and waved me off, “Harold was real clear on letting the boy out of custody once it was done.” He lifted his cowboy hat and scratched his head while looking at the cards on the table then he laughed. “He’s a free man. I’ve heard that was your meddlin’ that did it.”
I moved to the boy and snatched up the clothes they ripped from him and Dave, not saying a word with his new mutt by his side, helped me to return some dignity to the boy.
We took him to my small apartment and washed him and tended over him while he lay in my bed.
Gemma came soon after Andrew had been draped in a sheet—she was there in disguise as she’d been earlier and upon me opening the doorway, she began to ask me if the boy was with me. I merely stepped aside, and she rushed to Andrew’s side; if he was aware of her presence, there was no way to tell.
“They killed him.” She’d taken to her knees to be nearer his level. “Oh. Oh, he’s dead.” She touched him and he shivered at the touch. Gemma removed the wrappings of cloth around her head and looked at her sweetie closer and she put a hand to her mouth. “They took his hand!”
“No,” said Dave, “He’s going to live.” The man looked to me and I shrugged. “Yeah,” his voice didn’t sound sure, “He’ll live.”
I moved to the catwalk and Dave came with me, the dog following behind him—the timid mutt looked over the edge of the catwalk to the city below then stepped away and returned to my room. When Dave took up beside me, leaning over the railing, and the sun hit his face just so, he looked exactly like Jackson and maybe that was why when he raised eyebrows then cut his eyes at me with a question—the question was everything and I finally nodded.
Previous
RoyalRoad
Neovel

Hey!
So I started dating this girl. She's 23 and I'm 27.
It's going relatively well. She actually initiated this and she's really into me. Trying to spend as much time with me as she can, bringing me food to work etc.
I take her out to dinners etc. I find her really cute, smart and attractive. When it's just the two us we usually have a lot of fun joking around.
But here's the two big things that make me want to stop seeing her.

1. I'm very introverted and she's the opposite. In a bar with friends whenever she gets the chance. Which is cool but kind of a mismatch I guess. She wants me to go out with her. Which is sometimes fun but I always feel like I don't really enjoy it. I can have a lot of fun with people but I was never really a bar going person. I just feel like in the future this won't work because I'm starting to focus more and more on stuff like progressing my career and studying further in my field. Going out to bars and festivals is the last thing I have on my mind haha. But I don't mind going to a beach for example or even concerts sometimes. It's just that I don't want to drink at all.
   
2. Well I want to work and focus on improving my future. And I feel like this is slowing me down honestly. Like I like spending time with her but it's not so great that I feel like delaying my work over it. I've been doing content creation for some time and I'm trying to build a side business with it. I've been doing great recently, building my own brand etc. But then these weeks I have barely done any recording and I can't focus because I'm thinking about this.
   

To be honest I wouldn't mind dating these days even if I'm busy. But I feel like it must be working well and be a better match for it to also work well with my schedule and current life style/goals.
I'm just curious if anyone here thinks I'm just overthinking stuff.

I've been looking for you forever. I've been wanting you forever. All my life I've wanted someone who knew me, every detail, good and bad. I've wanted someone to love and someone to love me back. Call me old school but I want us to spend the rest of our lives loving each other ❤️
I want us to grow together, make a family together and learn new things together. I'm sure we've both been drifting through life wondering if there's something better, something more, someone perfect.
To everyone else we're not perfect, there's something wrong with us, too introverted, humour too dark, too nerdy, plays too many video games, has one too many takeaways and watches too many movies that we quote movie lines back to each other and laugh at because we're that ridiculous but we love it because to each other we're perfect.
Hopefully this is where we find each other, this is the day where you slide into my inbox and go "Hello Darling, I'm Here", let this be the day we start our adventure, our paths cross and never uncross instead our paths entwine, never splitting, never growing apart, just growing closer and closer together as the years go by.
Before we do that though, let's get the introductions out of the way, my name surprisingly is not my username and I'm sure the same can be said about you, either way it's nice to meet you [INSERT NAME HERE], you have a beautiful name 😘
As we're meeting through the magic of the vast complex internet I'm interested to know where you're from, I'm from the UK so I'm one of those British people who have the fancy accent and like to take things that aren't theirs and refuse to give them back! Speaking of taking things can I take your hand and take you on an adventure for a first date? Go Karting? Bowling? People Watching? Just walking around getting to know each other? Where would you like to go?
Although we have all the time in the world to get to know each other let's find out the basics, I'm a 27 year old Male with an Aquarius Star sign and INTP-A personality type, the star sign and personality type are not important to me in a match, though I'm interested to hear your side of things regarding these, are you a believer in star sign compatibility?
Looks wise I have one thing to say, you're beautiful inside and out, don't let anyone tell you otherwise 😘 But in terms of looks, if you want to imagine me, think Tom Holland, are you imagining him? Okay good, now scrap that and think of this, I have short brown hair, blue eyes, a dad bod, I'm 6'0, slight stubble and good bum (apparently), that's me haha. What do you look like? If you want I'm happy to swap pictures just so we know what we actually look like instead of imagining.
But yeah, I think the basics are done and hopefully you're reading this like, "I must message him, he sounds a delight!" If so, please do, maybe we are soulmates, maybe we can spend the rest of our lives together?
As we've come this far let's find out how much more we have in common, maybe you'll read the below and think you're reading an autobiography because we have that much in common? Shall we see?
I have a full time job so that's my social life, I occasionally go out on weekends but not nearly enough for that to be called a social life. Instead I'd rather stay home and watch a movie, TV, YouTube or play video games.
Though if you want to know what media I like let's see if we match;
Movies - MCU, Scarface, Harry Potter, James Bond, Resident Evil, Austin Powers, Ghostbusters, John Wick, Matrix, Twilight and more!
TV - Doctor Who, Supernatural, Absolutely Fabulous, Taskmaster, Mandolorian, Parks And Recreation, The Office, Breaking Bad, Game Of Thrones and more!
YouTube - Sidemen, Yogscast, Syndicate, Jesse Cox, Call Me Kevin, Modest Pelican and again,more!
Games (video and board) - Monopoly, Cluedo, COD, Far Cry, Elder Scrolls, Mafia, Dark Pictures Anthology, Assassin's Creed, GTA, Forza, Dead Rising, Resident Evil and you guessed it, many more haha!
But the above is not everything I do as I also like to go on walks so it would be nice to have a walking partner though maybe it could turn into a hiking partner? I like cooking and make a good Spaghetti Bolognese. I can clean lol, I'm quite domesticated when it comes down to it lol. I'm also a keen gardener and like to keep a tidy garden.
What else is there, I suppose it's worth mentioning I can drive (people up the wall with bad jokes), I can write (see this post where I've gone on and on) and I can be very open minded 😉 Which is something best left to a private conversation.
Erm, so.... Yeah? I think that's it, though if you have any questions then feel free to ask, my inbox is free for public use, though not in that way? Or it might be? Who knows it's an inbox, anyone can message haha 😂 But yeah, oh it's also worth stating that I am open to long distance though that may have been hinted at before. But yeah, this is definitely it, the end of the post, I suppose the last thing to say is, if I sound like your perfect partner, your idea of a soulmate then message me, let's cross our paths and start our journey.

It's 07:04. I woke up a 6:30 in tears. I dreamt of my Grandpa, who's been dead for more than ten years. But in the dream I had forgotten that. It was like he had never left. It took place in the family house. I had the chance to live and grow up with my grandparents (They were living on the first floor. Us on the second)
The dream in itself was weird like any other dream (I was walking around naked wearing a beanie, there were people in my garden negotiating to use a small pool that shouldn't have been there etc ...).
At the end of the dream I reach my grandpa sitting in a couch(fck I'm starting to cry irl). I'm trying to tell him about the people in the garden and if he's ok with them using the pool. His speech is pretty confused. I understand it's a sign of Alzheimedementia. So I grab his hands and I tell him: «Grandpa you're getting so old. I'm scared that you disappear». Next thing, I'm wide awake uncontrollably crying in my bed.
Everytime I think about this last sentence I burst in tears. Because I didn't tell him when he was alive.
My grandpa decayed in the most awful way. The dementia changed him completely. He was seeing us as enemies trying to stop him from doing what he wants. He said horrible things to my mother (his daughter). I had literally lived with him my own life but I was relieved when he was taken to a retirement home.
I don't know what happened in my child brain at this time but I felt far less concerned than today. It was probably my brain shutting down my emotions to protect me from unbearable pain. And now I realize I've never taken the time to properly mourn him. It feels impossible. I know that if I fully open the sluice gates of tears...I'll be unable to shut it off.
My grandpa was a titan. He had polio when he was a child. He had the strength of a 5yo in his arm and yet he was the hardest worker I'd ever see.
Grandpa I love you and I miss you so. I'm sorry I nearly hated you in your last moments instead of telling you that I love you.

Just kidding: I knew this would get people's attention. I don't live in Berlin but I've been following this sub and I have an acquaintance there - sounds like the housing situation is pretty rough
Anyway >> we're a group of thirty-somethings from the UAE that will be on holiday in Berlin in the last week of June. A couple of us are with our partners. We'll likely go to the Tuesday weekly but keen to see if anyone would like to hang? Would be cool to make friends in a new city and swap life stories. We can get a drink, play darts, go to the beach -- anything that sounds fun.

Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory

Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.

All Buyouts are listed in cash value.

KNIVES

★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500

★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822

★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616

⎯

★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300

★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050

★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629

★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326

★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233

⎯

★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110

★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840

★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784

★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759

⎯

★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801

★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801

★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751

⎯

★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156

★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544

★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318

⎯

★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646

★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574

★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552

★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257

★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255

★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287

⎯

★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461

★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436

★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353

★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212

★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129

★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129

★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123

★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127

⎯

★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375

★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363

★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269

★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192

★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126

⎯

★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616

★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412

★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227

⎯

★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214

★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192

★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105

⎯

★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216

★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198

★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111

⎯

★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368

★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228

★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201

★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108

★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105

★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99

★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85

⎯

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700

★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223

★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191

★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127

⎯

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199

★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111

⎯

★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146

★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168

⎯

★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476

★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375

⎯

★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137

★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608

★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305

★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97

GLOVES

★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204

★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142

★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84

★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84

★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63

★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63

⎯

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215

★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672

★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305

★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137

★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75

⎯

★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359

★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229

★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77

★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48

⎯

★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739

★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733

★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292

⎯

★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212

★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160

★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101

⎯

★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59

⎯

★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65

★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65

★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62

WEAPONS

AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130

AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79

AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76

AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76

AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70

AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60

StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72

⎯

AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039

AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139

AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139

AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95

AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93

AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93

AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81

AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79

AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79

AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60

StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68

StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68

StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55

⎯

Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623

Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54

⎯

M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55

⎯

M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465

M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55

M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50

⎯

USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72

USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69

StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139

⎯

AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234

P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147

Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61

Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory

Knives - Bowie Knife, Butterfly Knife, Falchion Knife, Flip Knife, Gut Knife, Huntsman Knife, M9 Bayonet, Bayonet, Karambit, Shadow Daggers, Stiletto Knife, Ursus Knife, Navaja Knife, Talon Knife, Classic Knife, Paracord Knife, Survival Knife, Nomad Knife, Skeleton Knife, Patterns - Gamma Doppler, Doppler (Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3, Phase 4, Black Pearl, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald), Crimson Web, Lore, Fade, Ultraviolet, Night, Marble Fade (Fire & Ice, Fake FI), Case Hardened (Blue Gem), Autotronic, Slaughter, Black Laminate, Tiger Tooth, Boreal Forest, Scorched, Blue Steel, Vanilla, Damascus Steel, Forest DDPAT, Urban Masked, Freehand, Stained, Bright Water, Safari Mesh, Rust Coat, Gloves - Bloodhound Gloves (Charred, Snakebite, Guerrilla, Bronzed), Driver Gloves (Snow Leopard, King Snake, Crimson Weave, Imperial Plaid, Black Tie, Lunar Weave, Diamondback, Rezan the Red, Overtake, Queen Jaguar, Convoy, Racing Green), Hand Wraps (Cobalt Skulls, CAUTION!, Overprint, Slaughter, Leather, Giraffe, Badlands, Spruce DDPAT, Arboreal, Constrictor, Desert Shamagh, Duct Tape), Moto Gloves (Spearmint, POW!, Cool Mint, Smoke Out, Finish Line, Polygon, Blood Pressure, Turtle, Boom!, Eclipse, 3rd Commando Company, Transport), Specialist Gloves (Crimson Kimono, Tiger Strike, Emerald Web, Field Agent, Marble Fade, Fade, Foundation, Lt. Commander, Crimson Web, Mogul, Forest DDPAT, Buckshot), Sport Gloves (Pandora's Box, Superconductor, Hedge Maze, Vice, Amphibious, Slingshot, Omega, Arid, Big Game, Nocts, Scarlet Shamagh, Bronze Morph), Hydra Gloves (Case Hardened, Emerald, Rattler, Mangrove), Broken Fang Gloves (Jade, Yellow-banded, Unhinged, Needle Point), Pistols - P2000 (Wicked Sick, Ocean Foam, Fire Element, Amber Fade, Corticera, Chainmail, Imperial Dragon, Obsidian, Scorpion, Handgun, Acid Etched), USP-S (Printstream, Kill Confirmed, Whiteout, Road Rash, Owergrowth, The Traitor, Neo-Noir, Dark Water, Orion, Blueprint, Stainless, Caiman, Serum, Monster Mashup, Royal Blue, Ancient Visions, Cortex, Orange Anolis, Ticket To Hell, Black Lotus, Cyrex, Check Engine, Guardian, Purple DDPAT, Torque, Blood Tiger, Flashback, Business Class, Pathfinder, Para Green), Lead Conduit, Glock-18 (Umbral Rabbit, Fade, Candy Apple, Bullet Queen, Synth Leaf, Neo-Noir, Nuclear Garden, Dragon Tatto, Reactor, Pink DDPAT, Twilight Galaxy, Sand Dune, Groundwater, Blue Fissure, Snack Attack, Water Elemental, Brass, Wasteland Rebel, Vogue, Franklin, Royal Legion, Gamma Doppler, Weasel, Steel Disruption, Ironwork, Grinder, High Beam, Moonrise, Oxide Blaze, Bunsen Burner, Clear Polymer, Bunsen Burner, Night), P250 (Re.built, Nuclear Threat, Modern Hunter, Splash, Whiteout, Vino Primo, Mehndi, Asiimov, Visions, Undertow, Cartel, See Ya Later, Gunsmoke, Splash, Digital Architect, Muertos, Red Rock, Bengal Tiger, Crimson Kimono, Wingshot, Metallic DDPAT, Hive, Dark Filigree, Mint Kimono), Five-Seven (Neon Kimono, Berries And Cherries, Fall Hazard, Crimson Blossom, Hyper Beast, Nitro, Fairy Tale, Case Hardened, Copper Galaxy, Angry Mob, Monkey Business, Fowl Play, Anodized Gunmetal, Hot Shot, Retrobution, Boost Protocol), CZ75-Auto (Chalice, Crimson Web, Emerald Quartz, The Fuschia is Now, Nitro, Xiangliu, Yellow Jacket, Victoria, Poison Dart, Syndicate, Eco, Hexane, Pole, Tigris), Tec-9 (Rebel, Terrace, Nuclear Threat, Hades, Rust Leaf, Decimator, Blast From, Orange Murano, Toxic, Fuel Injector, Remote Control, Bamboo Forest, Isaac, Avalanche, Brother, Re-Entry, Blue Titanium, Bamboozle), R8 Revolver (Banana Cannon, Fade, Blaze, Crimson Web, Liama Cannon, Crazy 8, Reboot, Canal Spray, Night, Amber Fade), Desert Eagle (Blaze, Hand Cannon, Fennec Fox, Sunset Storm, Emerald Jörmungandr, Pilot, Hypnotic, Golden Koi, Printstream, Cobalt Disruption, Code Red, Ocean Drive, Midnight Storm, Kumicho Dragon, Crimson Web, Heirloom, Night Heist, Mecha Industries, Night, Conspiracy, Trigger Discipline, Naga, Directive, Light Rail), Dual Berettas (Flora Carnivora, Duelist, Cobra Strike, Black Limba, Emerald, Hemoglobin, Twin Turbo, Marina, Melondrama, Pyre, Retribution, Briar, Dezastre, Royal Consorts, Urban Shock, Dualing Dragons, Panther, Balance), Rifles - Galil (Aqua Terrace, Winter Forest, Chatterbox, Sugar Rush, Pheonix Blacklight, CAUTION!, Orange DDPAT, Cerberus, Dusk Ruins, Eco, Chromatic Aberration, Stone Cold, Tuxedo, Sandstorm, Shattered, Urban Rubble, Rocket Pop, Kami, Crimson Tsunami, Connexion), SCAR-20 (Fragments, Brass, Cyrex, Palm, Splash Jam, Cardiac, Emerald, Crimson Web, Magna Carta, Stone Mosaico, Bloodsport, Enforcer), AWP (Duality, Gungnir, Dragon Lore, Prince, Medusa, Desert Hydra, Fade, Lightning Strike, Oni Taiji, Silk Tiger, Graphite, Chromatic Aberration, Asiimov, Snake Camo, Boom, Containment Breach, Wildfire, Redline, Electric Hive, Hyper Beast, Neo-Noir, Man-o'-war, Pink DDPAT, Corticera, Sun in Leo, Elite Build, Fever Dream, Atheris, Mortis, PAW, Exoskeleton, Worm God, POP AWP, Phobos, Acheron, Pit Viper, Capillary, Safari Mesh), AK-47 (Head Shot, Wild Lotus, Gold Arabesque, X-Ray, Fire Serpent, Hydroponic, Panthera Onca, Case Hardened, Vulcan, Jet Set, Fuel Injector, Bloodsport, Nightwish, First Class, Neon Rider, Asiimov, Red Laminate, Aquamarine Revenge, The Empress, Wasteland Rebel, Jaguar, Black Laminate, Leet Museo, Neon Revolution, Redline, Frontside Misty, Predator, Legion of Anubis, Point Disarray, Orbit Mk01, Blue Laminate, Green Laminate, Emerald Pinstripe, Cartel, Phantom Disruptor, Jungle Spray, Safety Net, Rat Rod, Baroque Purple, Slate, Elite Build, Uncharted, Safari Mesh), FAMAS (Sundown, Prime Conspiracy, Afterimage, Commemoration, Dark Water, Spitfire, Pulse, Eye of Athena, Meltdown, Rapid Eye Move, Roll Cage, Styx, Mecha Industrie, Djinn, ZX Spectron, Valence, Neural Net, Night Borre, Hexne), M4A4 (Temukau, Howl, Poseidon, Asiimov, Daybreak, Hellfire, Zirka, Red DDPAT, Radiation Hazard, Modern Hunter, The Emperor, The Coalition, Bullet Rain, Cyber Security, X-Ray, Dark Blossom, Buzz Kill, In Living Color, Neo-Noir, Desolate Space, 龍王 (Dragon King), Royal Paladin, The Battlestar, Global Offensive, Tooth Fairy, Desert-Strike, Griffin, Evil Daimyo, Spider Lily, Converter), M4A1-S (Emphorosaur-S, Welcome to the Jungle, Imminent Danger, Knight, Hot Rod, Icarus Fell, Blue Phosphor, Printstream, Master Piece, Dark Water, Golden Coil, Bright Water, Player Two, Atomic Alloy, Guardian, Chantico's Fire, Hyper Beast, Mecha Industries, Cyrex, Control Panel, Moss Quartz, Nightmare, Decimator, Leaded Glass, Basilisk, Blood Tiger, Briefing, Night Terror, Nitro, VariCamo, Flashback), SG 553 (Cyberforce, Hazard Pay, Bulldozer, Integrale, Dragon Tech, Ultraviolet, Colony IV, Hypnotic, Cyrex, Candy Apple, Barricade, Pulse), SSG 08 (Death Strike, Sea Calico, Blood in the Water, Orange Filigree, Dragonfire, Big Iron, Bloodshot, Detour, Turbo Peek, Red Stone), AUG (Akihabara Accept, Flame Jörmungandr, Hot Rod, Midnight Lily, Sand Storm, Carved Jade, Wings, Anodized Navy, Death by Puppy, Torque, Bengal Tiger, Chameleon, Fleet Flock, Random Access, Momentum, Syd Mead, Stymphalian, Arctic Wolf, Aristocrat, Navy Murano), G3SG1 (Chronos, Violet Murano, Flux, Demeter, Orange Kimono, The Executioner, Green Apple, Arctic Polar Camo, Contractor), SMGs - P90 (Neoqueen, Astral Jörmungandr, Run and Hide, Emerald Dragon, Cold Blooded, Death by Kitty, Baroque Red, Vent Rush, Blind Spot, Asiimov, Trigon, Sunset Lily, Death Grip, Leather, Nostalgia, Fallout Warning, Tiger Pit, Schermatic, Virus, Shapewood, Glacier Mesh, Shallow Grave, Chopper, Desert Warfare), MAC-10 (Sakkaku, Hot Snakes, Copper Borre, Red Filigree, Gold Brick, Graven, Case Hardened, Stalker, Amber Fade, Neon Rider, Tatter, Curse, Propaganda, Nuclear Garden, Disco Tech, Toybox, Heat, Indigo), UMP-45 (Wild Child, Fade, Blaze, Day Lily, Minotaur's Labyrinth, Crime Scene, Caramel, Bone Pile, Momentum, Primal Saber), MP7 (Teal Blossom, Fade, Nemesis, Whiteout, Asterion, Bloosport, Abyssal Apparition, Full Stop, Special Delivery, Neon Ply, Asterion, Ocean Foam, Powercore, Scorched, Impire), PP-Bizon (Modern Hunter, Rust Coat, Forest Leaves, Antique, High Roller, Blue Streak, Seabird, Judgement of Anubis, Bamboo Print, Embargo, Chemical Green, Coblat Halftone, Fuel Rod, Photic Zone, Irradiated Alert, Carbon Fiber), MP9 (Featherweight, Wild Lily, Pandora's Box, Stained Glass, Bulldozer, Dark Age, Hot Rod, Hypnotic, Hydra, Rose Iron, Music Box, Setting Sun, Food Chain, Airlock, Mount Fuji, Starlight Protector, Ruby Poison Dart, Deadly Poison), MP5-SD (Liquidation, Oxide Oasis, Phosphor, Nitro, Agent, Autumn Twilly), Shotguns, Machineguns - Sawed-Off (Kiss♥Love, First Class, Orange DDPAT, Rust Coat, The Kraken, Devourer, Mosaico, Wasteland Princess, Bamboo Shadow, Copper, Serenity, Limelight, Apocalypto), XM1014 (Frost Borre, Ancient Lore, Red Leather, Elegant Vines, Banana Leaf, Jungle, Urban Perforated, Grassland, Blaze Orange, Heaven Guard, VariCamo Blue, Entombed, XOXO, Seasons, Tranquility, Bone Machine, Incinegator, Teclu Burner, Black Tie, Zombie Offensive, Watchdog), Nova (Baroque Orange, Hyper Beast, Green Apple, Antique, Modern Hunter, Walnut, Forest Leaves, Graphite, Blaze Orange, Rising Skull, Tempest, Bloomstick, Interlock, Quick Sand, Moon in Libra, Clean Polymer, Red Quartz, Toy Soldier), MAG-7 (Insomnia, Cinqueda, Counter Terrace, Prism Terrace, Memento, Chainmail, Hazard, Justice, Bulldozer, Silver, Core Breach, Firestarter, Praetorian, Heat, Hard Water, Monster Call, BI83 Spectrum, SWAG-7), M249 (Humidor, Shipping Forecast, Blizzard Marbleized, Downtown, Jungle DDPAT, Nebula Crusader, Impact Drill, Emerald Poison Dart), Negev (Mjölnir, Anodized Navy, Palm, Power Loader, Bratatat, CaliCamo, Phoenix Stencil, Infrastructure, Boroque Sand), Wear - Factory New (FN), Minimal Wear (MW), Field-Tested (FT), Well-Worn (WW), Battle-Scarred (BS), Stickers Holo/Foil/Gold - Katowice 2014, Krakow 2017, Howling Dawn, Katowice 2015, Crown, London 2018, Cologne 2014, Boston 2018, Atlanta 2017, Cluj-Napoca 2015, DreamHack 2014, King on the Field, Harp of War, Winged Difuser, Cologne 2016, Cologne 2015, MLG Columbus 2016, Katowice 2019, Berlin 2019, RMR 2020, Stockholm 2021, Antwerp 2022, Swag Foil, Flammable foil, Others - Souvenirs, Agents, Pins, Passes, Gifts, Music Kits, Cases, Keys, Capsules, Packages, Patches

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I'm a 17 year old female and I'm getting close with my boyfriends family members today I met my boyfriends mom's sister and well she was amazing and very sweet but they told me later on that she was and I quote very religious. So no problem.
I don't really care I'm not religious I believe we are here so why not make the best of it and stop trying to worship something you can't prove it try to find out why we're all here anyways sorry for the rant.
She was well I guess you could call it a Jesus freak and on the second day of seeing her after a long fun day we were back at the house with all of them. This is when things get weird. It's now 11:30 and I have to go but she stops and says wait lemme say something quick. And mind you my boyfriends mom and siblings are there my boyfriend is elsewhere same with his dad.
She talks about Jesus and how I need to pray and the whole Holy Trinity. Now again I'm not religious in the slightest but I was trying to be nice and nod and agree with her saying yeah and okay occasionally. But now she says come here and Im thinking of God. No pun intended. She takes my hands and firmly grips them and starts literally speaking in tongues and at the end says Jesus's name and then she looks closer at me and starts feeling my hands pressing with her fingers on my palms and says you want a car. I don't want a car by the way. I say no. And she says oh you want your boyfriend to have a car. And well I do I know he really wants one and that's exactly what I say but here's the thing I just met the woman how does she know this I just chalk it up to a coincidence but she keeps going.
She then looks at me with a troubled look and says wow people have said some bad things to you. I say yeah. She says just pray. Then she says what really scared me. "Your mother was very mean to you." Now I have issues with my mom and not so much now but I mean I guess everyone does but here's where the issue comes in to play she then says I know religion can be different for everyone.
I can't really remember what she said exactly even though I'm writing this not even 20 minutes later. But they way she was saying these things and in some what if detail was honestly horrifying. Like with just a touch someone can see everything about you and your life. I really don't know how she knew but I don't want to know. And I know what your thinking no no one told her anything about my private life my boyfriend said that to me afterwards and that no one said anything remotely related.
I walked home in silence after that debating whether or not she really did get a message from someone or something.

Hello beautiful people! Decided to try this sub after lurking it for a pretty long while now. I'm mostly looking for good conversations and people with kind hearts to share some interests with. If things were to go to the route of a romantic relationship, I'm not saying no, but I'm also not actively trying to get into one.
About me I'm a fairly active person and after changing jobs awhile back, I've dedicated my time and effort into making my life as peaceful as possible (you know, trying to keep up with inhumane pace at work for a few years depleted me from lots of peace). Alas, the Gods found out about my plan and said hold my beer, so it's not completely smooth sailing, but it is one of the most important priorities for me. Statswise, I'm 174cm and 66kgs.
On my freetime I garden (planted some of the plants last weekend and then the winter came back, so most of them probably died, but hey, hopefully weeds died too), cook (could use some new recipes), bake (blueberry pie is said to be good for everything), watch F1 (even though I don't drive anything myself), read (both fun books, boring books and sometimes instructions too), walk (like, a lot), craft (if a grandmother would make that, I'm interested in making it too) and gym (well, I used to, but then I got covid and now my heart rate is 160 after 3 minutes in crosstrainer so fuck that). I'm also very fond of taking naps, giving treats to my dogs and occassionally gaming a little. Despite what I said about peace, I do work and study at the same time.
Introverted to the very core of my being so I need space, patience and time. I will sometimes leave you on read for awhile, but it's not because I'm ghosting you, it's because I got a new book or I'm just tired. That is something you truly need to be okay with (meaning: looking for people who have lots of things going on for themselves, not people who work from home and want to talk 24/7 to someone).
When it comes to my personality traits, I'd like you to be the judge, honestly. If you've been told you're kind, honest, caring and pleasant to be around, I'm extremely happy.
Lots of these posts here are of people listing their favorite movies. I don't have any, don't ask. It's a once-in-two-years -kinda thing to see me watch a movie unfortunately. Last year it was the new Batman, so I'm good for the rest of this year. Neither do I really watch any series. I game occassionally, but rather rarely nowadays. I listen whatever spotify offers me and if I like it, I press a little heart and then listen it again sometimes. I don't go to concerts, I don't usually know or care to know actors or singers or songs by name. Board games? Sing me in. Am I boring? I've been told I might be. But I try to make up for it by being present, caring and thoughtful (idk how to write that word).
Anyway, that's something about me, and now if you're still here, it would be awesome to hear about you! Send me a message (I don't know the difference of reddit chat and PM so I quess it doesn't matter) and I'll stop by saying hi! The usual, your pic gets mine :)

Me 26F and my ex 28M had amazing chemistry, we met during 2020, i had just left a 5 year relationship. I technically was kind of rebounding with him, but i ended up falling in love with him. As I mentioned we met in 2020, so he didn’t have a job at the time which was understandable, but this has been kinda a consistent issue throughout our 2ish year relationship (minor problem) long story kinda short. Through our our relationship i would find out every few months he was meeting up with ex’s and sometimes even knew women. I tried to be understanding at first, especially in the beginning because you know when you first start dating someone, sometimes you just have to tie some loose ends… anyways, this proceeded to happen. My few last straws were when my mother passed away. He lost his ONE job he had throughout our relationship around the same time my mom passed and would blame his distance on that. But throughout that time he would hang a lot with his friends and even went to the beach to watch the sunset with his ex. This really hit home to me because i really needed someone to lean on especially with me mourning and watching my mother go through what she went through. Again long story short we broke up got back together and i told him “this is the last time I’m getting back with you” i kinda didn’t believe myself and i know he didn’t cuz i really loved the kid. Again the chemistry felt so amazing, i still crave him… I guess he didn’t believe me either. He went a day without calling me, texting me Goodmorning or checking in on me and i expressed how much that hurt me and could be at least text me Goodmorning and goodnight even if he was gonna be “busy” or because he was going through something… again just asking for bare minimum, he said okay and then went like 3 days without talking to me again… i then understood where I stood in his life. I realized he was never gonna be there for me emotionally and how much of a nonnegotiable that is for me. This wasn’t the first hard time in life I would probably go through and man i really need someone who is gonna hold me down when things get rough Fast forward to today, this all happened last summer, it is now June again… i didn’t talk to him to break up with him or let him know what was up… i was tired of talking and asking him to be more considerate so I just blocked his number. He has tried to reach out to me, he’s come to my house knocking on my door. And well I just ignore him… i miss him a lot. I haven’t really stopped thinking about him. I’ve rebounded and had other crushes since him but i can’t stop thinking about him. I haven’t really stalked his socials (only his Apple Music to see what he’s listening to to see if he’s listening any songs that may remind him of me (shut up I know that’s silly)) but lately I’ve been looking up his stories anonymously and today I saw he posted maybe another girl? It made my stomach tighten I wanted to call him up and just tell him wtf!?!! Your moving on??? Not like he hasn’t probably been messing with other girls but idk… moral of the story I know this guy probably isn’t for me, but I still think about him… I miss our intimacy. I wish he was more emotionally supportive and I guess hardworking. Someone that can provide for me and my one day kids you know. He isn’t that and I hate it… I miss him but I know he isn’t for me… is it normal that I know all of these things and still yearn for him… Think about him…? Even after almost a year?