What is your general idea about femininity?
Do you like to embrace it more or less?
So since I started to know myself , I liked my feminine side…wearing high heels and skirts and clothes with puffy sleeves. I loved women in 40s and 50 movies. Specially Ingrid Bergman and Grace Kelly.my female friends used to tell me how I act like a lady/princess. So I really liked this aspect of mine
But since growing up I didn’t really have any support from a man and now that I’m an adult and have to take care of myself and my mom, sometimes I think that if me wanting to be elegant and feminine limits me.every person feel powerful in a way and in my pov femininity has always been a power. I maybe be fragile but I’m not weak (at least I try not to). I feel more comfortable in a skirt and when I wear heels (as hurtful as that is ) I feel like now I can take on the world.
I don’t like playing basketball or volleyball , cause I’m afraid the ball will hit my face but I love swimming , horseback riding or riding bicycle .and last week I carried an old heavy sofa from two floors. Like I didn’t let me being soft etc. stop me.I didn’t thought this is a man’s job and it’s out of my physical strength.even though I don’t have a muscular body or regularly work out.
I know a woman and she is like “yeah since my husnabd has died and I had to take care of my kids….I became a man (not literally ;) and work by myself to be independent...” and I always thought why do we have to think that by acting like a man we will become strong or powerful. Growing up I hear this a lot...”if there is a man (father, uncle, brother etc. )with you to where you’re going ,it’ll be safer or better. “ I mean so now I can’t do anything on my own and should wait for sb else.
Specially my father always tell me that I shouldn’t act spoiled and too princessy/girly, that I should be tougher .but why can’t I be tough and strong the way I am?!
Sorry about rambling but I was just sharing my thoughts about being feminine. Like now I’m conflicted about how should I be.…
P.S hope I made sense since English sin’t my first language

Some ideas for a city campaign in Helldivers II. This during the massive Automaton push after surprise massive fleet show up.
Setting
A city of that used to be a thriving human home inhabited by 30 million citizens but the war turned it into a battlefield as Automaton’s relentless offensive since the surprise attack few weeks ago. SEAF desperately held on the city as it is a the center of political capital of the region, not to mention the node of economy and culture too. Sharp fight erupts over a control of an apartment block or sewer system, showing how intense the battle is for weeks. The Helldivers are assigned as tip of the spearhead to attack critical points that can turn the tide of the battle.
Imagine Fallujah 2003, Berlin 1945 or Hue 1968 as sample templates.

Parkour hell

Automatons are pushing hard but still unable to breakthrough due to resilience of the SEAF so far. However this new development worries the High Command enough to merit a Helldiver mission.
Intel assessed and believes that enemy is deploying an artillery system that we never seen before to this sector. What we do know that they break it up to few components that is transported on heavy haulers, about 20 of them and has to go through this no-man zone. You have a limited time window of 15 minutes once deployed.
Once they passed this point, it will be detrimental as they have sufficient parts to assemble into a huge artillery system that might cause problem for the regular troops holding the frontline.
The intel also believes that the only way these haulers can be taken out is their relatively weak top armor. Realistically, you Helldivers have to do parkour on the building roofs and set up ambush points to effect a destruction of these haulers. So every Helldiver must have Jump Pack as a mandatory Strategm, as any street level battle will be suicidal. Do lookout for crumbling building that might go down if you landed wrongly. We have reason to believe that Automatons have rapid response team if the convoy got attacked in mere minutes too. Destroy the haulers before get overwhelmed.
You must at least destroy 60% of the convoy to be considered as successful.
Good luck and give them hell.
Based on the exploits of Chechen's Tiger unit in Battle of Grozny 1994.

Rattenkrieg – War of the Rats

We believe that Automatons are hiding their crucial ammo and fuel stockpiles in the middle of the city blocks around this sector but we can’t detect accurately from the orbit because they using a stealth net that obscures our Super-Destroyer’s optic and detection systems. We believe by destroying these forward caches, their push will at least slacken to buy SEAF precious time to regroup and rebuild their line.
This is where you coming in.
Unfortunately, we can’t insert Helldivers near to the combat zone since we are not sure the exact locations so you have these deployment zones here and here. So, you have to deploy, get stocked with ammo and equipment then enter the vast sewer system to access target areas from below. That means the Super Destroyers or CAS (Close Air Support) will not able to assist you since you will be cut off underground.
Luckily, there are few gaps via big blasted holes that we can send help shall you need it in middle of the fight. Use those precious window wisely. Also if any reinforcements has to start from beginning zone all over again unless there are hole gaps nearby. Needless to say, the terrain is cramped and very close quarter prone so choose your loadout accordingly. Do note to try destroy the access holes once you completed the target to prevent pursuit by the enemy in the sewers.
We also knew there are caches from the wiped out defenders hiding inside the sewer systems so you can resupply from their stocks. These are approximate locations.
You must destroy at least 5 caches quickly and exit in 30 minutes.
Inspired by Battle of Stalingrad 1942-43.

The Vault

A group of prominent citizens trapped in a big bank vault, hiding from marauding Automaton patrols after unable to evacuate in time during the retreat. It is up to you, Helldivers, to approach the bank from above in your typical fashion or go stealth via underground sewer system. Reach the bank, decommission any resistance, secure the citizens and escort them to a waiting shuttle before the Automaton find their hiding spot.
The bank itself, used to be an architectural marvel during peaceful days has turned into a massive rubble that makes a nightmarish urban combat scenario.
You also must secure data from the bank server while rescuing the citizens at the same time. Also, power up the backup generator underground before you can open the vault and the booting up the server too while fighting the Automatons. This is your speciality, hence the command needs you do it. You have a small window of action about 12 minutes before the enemy begin to send in reinforcements or rapid response force, so act quick.
Here’s the blueprint of the bank. Good luck.

The Towers

The Automaton set up few massive signal jamming tower units that causing troubles for SEAF. What’s worse, we can’t really pinpoint the exact location of the towers since they keep rotating spots to avoid detection by our forces. Therefore, it is your task to drop in and corner these mobile jammer units, render it destroyed. Without doubt, the enemy sentry will be considerable and expect a massive fight shall it turn into a shooting match.
Best way is to use AM rifle to destroy the jammers from far and quickly scoot to the next place.
You have 40 minutes to disable their EW units and evacuate from the combat zone. Good luck.

I’m feeing all kinds of shit.
My fiancé was AMAB, and we’ve been together for ten years, and have two kids. He’s always been feminine, having long hair and liking to experiment with nail polish and wearing women’s clothes which never bothered me and I don’t see things like that as gendered anyway.
He told me this weekend he’s been thinking more and more about how he’d like to live as a woman. He said he’s not unhappy as a man, but thinks he feels more like a woman and would like to transition.
I was shocked, but ultimately I want him to be happy and I told him so. I said I’ll need time to get used to the idea and I said honestly I’m not super excited, since I’m scared I won’t be attracted to him and that sex will be difficult. It was at this point that I said “I’m sure I’ll be able to get used to the idea and make my peace with the fact that you’re still you, and worse case scenario we can colive and coparent because I want to be in your life”.
He then backpedaled quite a bit, saying if there was even the slightest chance of us not being romantically together he wouldn’t do it. I now feel like by saying I’m not certain I could be romantically involved with him if he goes through with it, like I’ve stopped him from being happy and authentically himself, even though I’m not sure I wouldn’t be able to adjust considering he only said so this weekend.
It feels like his fear of me leaving is stopping him from doing something he needs to do, and now I feel like I’m somehow at fault.
I don’t want him to transition, if I’m honest, but I’ll be there for him or her no matter what happens, I just can’t guarantee it’ll be romantically.

Hi guys, I've come here time to time for the past 7 or 8 months whenever I feel symptoms or anxious and I guess it's time I shared my story, as there could be some things I learned along the way that would be helpful for folks. I'm a 30 year old male. I took minoxidil for 5 years from the age of 25. Once that didn't seem to be working any more I tried to get oral minoxidil and my doctor told me to get on propecia instead. I told her I felt a little scared about that but she said I'd be fine. I've always had a good libido, maybe too good, like bordering on sex obsession.. so I figured if anything a little less libido might do me good. Soon after I started the propecia I got a concussion (mild) from a soccer ball, and that was after a weekend where I tripped on acid, so there were some things going on. I had also had pretty bad food poisoning some months ago that took forever to heal from with some lingering tummy problems. Anyway, I had weird symptoms after the concussion. I almost felt like, euphoric. It felt like my brain was just releasing all of its happy chemicals at once. Part of my euphoria was an absolute disinterest in sex, but I enjoyed that, I felt like I was attaining enlightenment or something. I was glowing and productive. After a week or so all of this went away and I went back to having normal sexual health and normal (bad) mental health and I didn't really think about it again. Fast forward 6 months. I quit my job because I am depressed about it and life in NYC is suffocating me, I want to travel the world before it burns down, in the interim I move back home to get my affairs sorted. I had to dye my hair for some short film, and I hated it, when I cut it my hair didn't look good, seemed I'd lost a lot more than I thought, and that made me sad so I was researching finasteride (does this stuff even work?) and then I accidentally found this community on reddit... and it freaked me out. I had a full blown panic attack reading these posts. Then I started thinking about things that had been happening in my life. Increased anxiety and depression. Chronic prostatitis. And the development of IBS, especially bad after drinking alcohol, which actually led me to give up drinking for a while. My sexual health was fine, but I think the anxiety from reading the reddit posts gave me some weird sexual side effects, not joking. That same day I started feeling an achey tingling in my balls, as if they were swelling up. I remember going on a walk with a girl I was seeing and I just felt so off and couldn't even enjoy walking because of the heaviness of my balls and I didn't want to sleep with her at all anymore. I immediately gave up both fin and min, kind of sad because I had just bought a years supply of the stuff from one of those new websites that makes it easy. So with all this happening, I had also been planing to ride my bicycle around the world. I left for India about a week after cutting the hair drugs and cutting alcohol. And then I'm in India. Without alcohol, my IBS pretty much completely healed. I was making very nice poos. The cycling irritated my prostate though. I started off by going over the Himalayas which involved a lot of climbing and therefore a lot of my groin pushing hard into a bike saddle. Still, I was able to pleasure myself in the tent successfully, which I only did to keep tabs on my progress of course. Things were looking up. Leaving work and NYC and America already did a 180 on all of my mental health issues, as did quitting alcohol. My memory improved. I was reading and writing and thinking clearly. I was a happy guy. After finishing the himalayas I had a few beers about it with some friends to celebrate. A few days later I got some cramps in my abdomen, and then the next day severe food poisoning. Both ends type. So bad. Had to keep going though. I kept cycling through the mountains. For two weeks I had diarrhea, and then that turned into regular old IBS again, like always running to the bathroom never knowing if I'll make it on time and the poop is this sludge like texture. It sucked. I was also sad about my hair, as it looked like I was losing all my gains. I bought a fin/min topical mixture and started using that while I was in a meditation retreat. I started having that weird euphoric feeling again, but I attributed it to the meditation, which was really life changing but no need to elaborate on that. I also started feeling prostatitis again (burning sensation tip of penis, feels like you want to pee). I had fixed the tilt on my bike saddle to eliminate prostate issues so it was weird that it was coming back again. I figured maybe coming from sitting in meditative posture all day. I guess I was in denial, but after about a month or so I figured it must be the finasteride so I gave it up again and switched to just minoxidil. But then, the minoxidil was making me feel weird too. I remember one time, the very same night I applied minoxidil it felt like my asshole was falling out, like I had a rectal prolapse, now I think it's hemorrhoids. I had the hemorrhoid feeling for a while. Keep in mind, my main issue at this time remains the IBS. I also had very low libido but honestly I rarely saw attractive women on my trip so who knows. So I kept cycling, I cycled all the way from the North in KashmiLadakh to Kerala, the south. My IBS never went away. I tried all sorts of things for my hair. I went to an ayurvedic place and they put leeches on my scalp which was hilarious. They also gave me this weird ayurvedic oil with no real instructions. I think that must have had some DHT blocker in it because it gave me the weird feelings too, especially the hemorrhoid feeling. I started drinking oregano oil and taking copious amounts of probiotics, which would always help for a couple days against the IBS but I think the heat of the Indian sun killed them off while they were in my saddle bags. Then I found this new chemical combo in South India, starring redensyl and backed up with procapil and anagain. I figured what the hell why not. It came with a dht blocker gummy vitamin but it was just green tea with biotin and zinc so whatever. I started feeling a lot better on that. One random week I started getting insane erections and it felt like my dick grew an inch. Can't really explain what was going on there. Prior to that the erections were meh and I would cum sometimes in a half-noodle like state which was very sad. Anyway, that didn't last forever. Once I got to the very south I decided I needed a full system reboot and went to another ayurvedic place and got something called a panchakarma. In panchakarma you go on a very restrictive diet and they massage all of your body toxins into your gut, they make you drink a ton of ghee to help do this, and then they purge you, so it all comes out of your butt, and then in my case I got 5 medicated enemas. It's a two week process, sometimes longer. I know it sounds crazy but it definitely makes you feel better. I was also doing yoga and meditating every day which was super helpful. After that my IBS went away. I had to keep to the diet for two weeks after: no sugar, caffeine, gluten, alcohol or meat. After the two weeks I dipped my toes back into all those things and my gut stayed solid. Crazy. I also felt good sexually. I started taking another hair serum, this one with redensyl, anagain, procapil, and pumpkin seed oil. Still felt great. I flew to Malaysia and started cycling there. In Malaysia I just started feeling better and better. No IBS, huge erections again. In fact, I became obsessed with sex again. And it was depressing. I actually started missing the days when I had no libido in India. I was really able to focus on other things. Sex is such a waste of mental energy. I could drink alcohol again. And so I did, and had no issues. Which was great but I also was kind of sad about it, am I just going to be a sex-obsessed booze hound again? Have I learned nothing? Anyway, the story continues. No one is bald in Malaysia so I had to order more of my chemicals to feed my hopeless hair serum addiction. I found a crazy one that was stacked with redensyl, anagain, procapil, baicapil, capixyl, biotin, aminexil, rice water, rosemary oil, and .... saw palmetto. The saw palmetto was maybe .3% so I figured it probably wouldn't have any effect, especially since I was fine with the pumpkin seed oil. Anyway, 10 days into that serum I got the tingly swelly feeling in my balls again and some prostatitis too! Oy, back to the start it would seem. I'm mainly just upset because I ordered 3 bottles of that stuff and had to pay taxes on the import because it came from India, and now I guess I have to throw it all out? Whatever. Anyway, you can call me an idiot, but by using my body as a guinea pig I believe I've uncovered some interesting info for everyone. Just as the early men who figured out which berries were poisonous, I serve humanity with my tragic misadventures. Still cycling, hoping to go around the world and find new ways to mess with my hormones and keep some of my hair. My advice from this, do something to fully cleanse your system, like the panchakarma. We've basically tampered too much with our settings and need to do a factory reset. You can do a lot of that stuff on your own, fasting, purging, enemas. It stimulates your body into healing itself. Hell, go to India. In India doctors actually listen to you and treat you holistically, and everything is cheap! You can get rifaximin for 2 dollars should you desire. You don't need to keep getting gaslit by expensive urologists and gastros in the states your whole life. Just do something crazy. You'll stay depressed if you linger on the internet for too long. And if you're stuck in a job/life you hate, take PFS as a sign and excuse to be selfish and get out of it, think of yourself as a terminally ill person that just wants to live life for the little time they have left. Obviously I still have no idea if any of what I've experienced is actually PFS or if it's maybe related to the original food poisoning or the concussion or maybe even Long Covid. No clue. But I do think a lot of my symptoms have been consistent with what you guys talk about. Either way, whatever it is, treat your body well and you may heal. I hope? I'm currently sitting on a swollen sack hoping that the PFS Gods will be merciful once more, but I know I don't deserve it. My desire to have hair still hasn't gone away, and I keep thinking maybe if I try just one more thing that'll be the thing that works. And that's what keeps pulling me back into this mess. But at the end of the day I can thank PFS for forcing me to make the big life changes that have made me a much happier person today, regardless of the state of my pelvic area.

I think I mentioned this interaction some time ago. But, a while back, the wife of one of the deacons at my parents' church was going off about women who "give up on their marriages" (her words) and bullshit like that. Context can go fuck itself. Because there can't possibly be a reason for anyone wanting to end their relationship, right? /s But, like, seriously. What's the alternative? In her universe does a couple never break up if they're both Christian? Because I can assure her that Christian couples do indeed break up. It totally happens. Christians also gasp get divorced! I responded to her post asking "well, compatibility changes or just isn't there and people should find who they're compatible with." She followed up saying that "compatibility is a lie the Devil cooked up so ungodly women can justify sleeping around without making a commitment."
That's a fucking WILD take right there. If her husband wasn't such an asshole (which I've come to understand is almost a prerequisite for being a Southern Baptist deacon) I'd feel bad for him since his wife was basically admitting she doesn't feel she's compatible with her husband. Like, damn. She pretty much just put him on blast right there.
She made a post yesterday that was less (?) confusing, I guess. Her post said "we gotta stop Satan's forces from causing more chaos in our society. That's why I'll be voting for Trump this November."
There it is. Right there. This is a pattern I've noticed. It doesn't matter what the topic is: politics, religion, or facets of everyday life and society. The people who have the most unhinged takes on these topics are almost always Trump voters.
I remember the Trump years very well and recall that shit was quite chaotic. I remember what a fucking disaster he was when he was in the White House. And it fucking terrifies me that he'll be back there again.
Why is it that folks with the most generally unhinged takes are basically inevitably MAGA?
Has anyone else noticed this pattern?

Here. And I’d like to start by noticing that Steve Sailer is obviously Delicious Taco’s dad. Having said this.
Good episode. Lots of engagement which I suppose is a net positive for all involved. Obviously a lot of the injury stems from a distortion. The episode’s content fantasized and in fantasy warped into something constituting a threat (no, an outright assault) to the listener’s person. One can simply listen to the episode and see that some (in fact the bulk) of the negative responses are from people reacting to some spectral absent-presence rather than to what is actually being said over the course of the 2 hour long episode. The voices and the discourse have instead been shaped into sonic receptacle containing the reflection of something wildly ugly. Injuriously ugly.
Past few days have been brutal. Found myself doom-viewing the main sub, should know better at this age. Feels like I’ve been transmogrified into an absurd and wretched thing. Must've transgressed against a gnome or something. Fascinating to think about.
I would like nothing more than to shame you.
Miami Summer is a killer. Urine is blood-orange. And my mother deserves better sons.
Why would A&D do this?
Witnessing the rankest comments. In bygone age I’d found them tolerable. Having imagined them delivered by high society homosexual. A damned dandy; chubby, sinister, and flamboyant. Capri on a stick limply held between index and middle fingers, twirling wrist ash’ing on expensive Persian rug. The blurry ghosts of his mother and the kid brother who drowned in the pond all those years ago glaring at him from far-off corner. Clearing throat he launches into sing-song slander head peeling back cackling at his own wickedness. Vile and venomous but charming. Instead what we get is 30+ year old mentally-ill men. Men whose Twitter activity has atrophied their cock and balls. Genitals withering away like the Worker's State, in its place a gasping cloaca, worry not I can clock em from miles away. The odious cloaca-havers are soon joined by ruined drug-addled children and the other women. They talk about A&D in disgusting ways. This is unfair and nasty. I confess to being angry. Sweating blood-specked kerosene. Let the scent fill up the empty air between us. My wrath singeing those overgrown nose hairs.
Of the two I think Anna is the one that inspires the harshest parasocial spite. So much so that I’d recommend she take some protective measures against evil eye and tongue. Maybe take baths with hyssop herb, rose water perfume, and holy water.
It’s as if Anna Khachiyan is a Giant Floating Vagina with teeth and a noticeable overbite. Viewed from another angle it transforms into a Madonna encircled by cherubim. Perhaps we are cruel to Anna in order to be kind to our mothers.
All very pre-Oedipal.
Had to step back and parse it out. Anna draws a comparison between herself and Sailer while also asking him a great question,
07:12-07:49
Anna: “I started reading it during the pandemic because it was the pandemic. I was pregnant and bored and I really relate to you as a person who everyone thinks is like evil and monstrous on the internet, but is actually like quite agreeable and mild mannered in real life. And I was going to ask you this question last, but I may as well just ask it now. How do you feel about your new found popularity? And especially, how do you feel about the fact that you have been effectively adopted by or identified with the hard right?”
The first part of the above extract, the sympathetic recognition, brings to mind a bit of 20th century Hermetic theory concerning harmful thought-forms. Our unconscious self-destructive impulses animating the fantasy-phantasm of the other. Inhabiting their shape. Gaining a degree of autonomy. This artificial entity is vampiric by default, provoking what the Czech magician Franz Bardon calls a "magical persecutory complex"... He goes into detail about such entities in Step VI of his seminal work, Initiation into Hermetics. Describing different types of artificial elementals and phantasms along with details on how to consciously go about creating and dissipating them. One of those artificial psychic entities, the one that concerns us, he calls the schemata. Bardon details two variants, one connected with paranoid persecutory fantasies and the other with erotic obsession. The first type comes about when someone who is “easily excitable, easily influenced or self-important” (Narcissist?) has a run in with another person who has, to put it mildly, a memorable visage and dark personality. The schemata is born from the phantasm modeled after this demonic-looking disagreeable person. The victim begins to attribute all kinds of minor inconveniences to the influence of the ugly person. Deludes themselves into thinking that the ugly/disagreeable person is a powerful black magician. Everything appears to reinforce their paranoid delusions. The schema grows in power feeding off the anxieties of their creatohost. The person might end up committing suicide. This was the persecutory schemas desire, having achieved its goal Bardon notes, “how great is the shock when such a spirit realizes on the mental plane that he has committed a very successful magical suicide. What a bitter disappointment! The demonic looking person, however, has no idea what happened; he was actually only the means to an end.”
God gave us eyes so that we might notice things.
The way I see it:
Being social animals the subject of our fantasy, of our fixations, is the fantasy of the other. What makes the human Human is not that we desire but rather that we desire the desire of the other. An excess desire. We fantasize about what the other is fantasizing and enjoying. Our fantasy of the fantasy of the other is the outlines a fundamental lack within our person, a negativity. Experienced as a splitting of consciousness. Intuiting this lack, becoming aware of it, and attempting to articulate it, we are self-consciousness. This negativity or void is in psychoanalytic terms, the unconscious. We likewise intuit that there had once been some original state. One without lack and contradiction. A state of fullness, without the division between self and object. A harmonious whole. A pure consciousness or as Freud refers to it in Civilization and its Discontents an oceanic feeling. The Original Desire, one that is authentically my own, which was not the desire of the other but which unites our desires in itself. This desire is the extinction of all desires.
The eye that perceives the lovely is at once the eye that perceives what I lack. Perceiving this lack, which explains my present condition, I covet. This is an evil eye. The lover’s gaze is of the same type as the infirm or pathic gaze. Reminded of Zizek’s formulation of one of Hegel’s insights, “Evil resides in the very gaze which perceives Evil all around itself" itself a variation of Meister Eckhart’s “the eye through which I see God is the same eye through which God sees me.” The recognition of evil, the ability to see and judge evil, stems from our ability to recognize disparity. This disparity is already present within our own person, the split-consciousness. The feeling cognized, the awareness of our condition as beings separated from the whole. The clairvoyance of the tyrant and the philosopher.
Suppose that psychopathology is born from our inability to recognize an image as an image.
I intuit something more in this person, something they’re hiding. It can’t just be envy, no. It has to be because I can feel that this thing they’re hiding is sinister. It can’t just be that I feel animosity towards this person, no. It has to be because this person is evil and not just an isolated evil but rather a symptom of a much larger evil. An evil that is responsible for all the suffering in the World, for why my World isn’t the way it should be. It can’t just be attraction, no. It has to be that I intuit something more in this person, something hidden, that I must destroy in order to go on living.
If vile shit comes to mind (as vile things often do, especially when one is immersed in ambient algorithmically-summoned vileness, namely outrage and atrocity porn) they won't affirm it to themselves or try to justify or rationalize it or present it as a rational political stance. And they don’t abstract this particular form of vileness into the primary lens through which they view and interpret cultural phenomena. Unreflexive racial animosity is ugly and fetid. We’re capable of recognizing it, feeling it, as something pathological. We’re also capable of laughing at it. Laughing at ourselves. Look at what our ladies have to say about Stuart Seldowitz (the dude who went viral harassing a halal street vendor) in I’ll Be Missinger. “He sucks,” “he’s a loser,” “he’s obviously sick,” and that he gives the impression of someone who lives alone, will die alone, and will be found weeks or even months after the fact.
Perhaps Red Scare is special in how it manages to elicit absurd, wildly inappropriate responses from listeners. Vulgar and revelatory was it? Steve Sailer elicits a similar response and has become an expert in turning said absurd reactions to his advantage. Generally the cooler-head in any given exchange. While the other person shouts obscenities at a ghost, smashing fists against the post, looking crazy, like a proper hysteric. Sailer breaks the fourth-wall, making eye-contact with the would-be noticer, with a little shake of the head, a little chuckle, a little shrug… “you’re noticing right? See what I have to put up with? Imagine these people defining my legacy.” Still he seems to take it with the good humor of an uncle who will still call you on your birthday, despite your drunken outburst during holiday get-together he will admit to not having resisted the temptation to provoke you, it use to be fun, recall all the cool bands I introduced you too? We use to be best buds, “do you really think anything I’ve said merits this sort of response? Honestly?”
Has to be a cheap trick. A technique employed by an old trickster in decades long honing of craft. Maybe not. Maybe what we see is precisely what we get. Most of the very upsetting things being jokes sincerely intended to lighten the mood. Steve Sailer doesn’t care about the particular political orientation of his audience. He just cares that he has an audience. Grateful for the fans he has. Nonetheless happy that they’re not seething malcontent racists. Even if one disagrees with the methodology, the heuristic, the conclusions. That’s secondary, perhaps even tertiary to the recognition sought. His craftsmanship as a writer.
Why I loved his conflict with Will Stancil. Stancil inspired a lot of pondering for me. Putting things in place…
01:29:22-01:29:28
Anna: “You come for the race science and stay for the prose-styling and vivid story-telling.”
In trying to survive as a writer exiled from Mainstream Conservative media (ConInc) during the Bush Jr years. In fact, correct me if I’m wrong but the cancelation that actually impacted Steve Sailer, setting him down the path we find him in, was brought about not by blue-haired hall monitor millennial leftists but by his “fellow” Conservatives. I imagine that he just went with whoever was willing to take him adapting to the editorial standards and audience sensibilities of the publications willing to provide him succor. Not charity mind you but an ability to engage in his own little labor of love.
Read some Sailer. Might get into that later. But that’s the initial impression I got from Steve. Would be utterly mortified if memorialized as a Racialist Ideologue rather than as an entertaining and thought-provoking journalist. Think I also benefited from seeing how he’s actually received by people who are navigating through (or in certain cases, are mired in) the marginal “Hard Right”-spaces or the Rightwing Digital Ghetto. End up realizing that he isn’t hateful, that what you see is precisely what you get, that he privileges craft over ideology, that his reception and exile from Neocon dominated media outlets (remember these are the people gushing ecstatic over the US invasion of Iraq, manufacturing consent for our adventures in the Middle East) was exceedingly unfair but that he nonetheless managed to persevere. And that he really never goes beyond Norm McDonald in terms of his sardonic wit or The Boondocks animated series in terms of his criticisms. His normality is a great source of stability and comfort for his readers; “noticing” and speculating about these topics doesn’t necessarily lead to one becoming a seething racist.
Returning for a moment to Will Stancil, this was what he inspired:
As the last man standing I spend countless hours immersed in detailed fantasies about the coming apocalypse and my enemy's bliss. A dumb and wicked happiness proportional to my suffering. Easy to imagine other people happy. Hearts unbroken. Unburdened, hydrated, sexually satisfied, debt-free, lucky, successful in all business endeavors. Brute, jezebel, schemer, parasite, rival, betrayer... the whole lot of them thriving. Frolicking in my mind's eye. When the time comes I won't forget that they were happy while...others...suffered.
Find that trying to void your mind of all thought or sit perfectly still for 10 minutes. End up feeling like something requires much less energy from us than nothing. Causes coalescing. Conspiring, to what ends?
You see. The very same principle appears to be at work here. Same pathological base that undergirds genuine racial or ethnic animosity. Fantasizing about the other’s enjoyment and being unable to distinguish between the persecutory Phantasm and the actual human being whose shape it appropriates.
Had a friend recommend forgetting. Forgetting is a dialectical exercise, first you have to acknowledge the thing living rent free in your head and acknowledge its origins... then you have to take the steps to stop feeding it. Letting the thought-form dissolve. Let it be put to rest. Reminded of the practice Orthodox Christian contemplatives call Nepsis.
Other approaches as well, acknowledging the presence of anima veiled in shadow.
But listen…
The podcasts I consume, are a reflection of me as a person. Being what I associate and consume. What does it say about me in particular? Reveal about me? That they should have Steve Sailer on the pod. Settling down. Perhaps some responses could be understood in this light. That a Sailer episode reflects poorly on the listener. Constituting a great betrayal of the love and energy and time I have dedicated over the years to you.
I’m not a racist.
Show me your likes on Twitter and I’ll tell you who you are. The most punitive and brutal god. The idea of the AI nu-god being this, utilizing that standard, is horrifying. Show me your likes on Twitter and I’ll tell you who you are, everything you are, and whether or not you qualify to live.
Shamed, I quietly remove the upvote I gave to the hysterical person and the downvote I gave to him.
Hysteria like a yawn is an empathic contagion.
Back to Anna it’s not because she’s ugly and it sucks that she might nurse this delusion. I actually think Anna is really pretty. Rather I think it’s because she’s a mom. She registers as a maternal figure. That’s one of the reasons I think people respond to her the way they do. As stated earlier. We are cruel to Anna in order to forgive our moms.
[To be continued: Wherein I say horrible things that should never be said to the people I claim to love. Will also interrogate Sailor Socialism]

The allure of summer vacations and festive holidays undeniably boosts the hospitality industry. But what about the off-season? Does it have to be a time of empty rooms and dwindling bookings? Absolutely not! With a strategic and creative hotel marketing plan, the off-season can be an opportunity to attract new guests, generate revenue, and strengthen your brand reputation.
Here at Grow My Bookings, a leading hotel marketing agency, we understand the challenges and opportunities unique to off-season marketing. This blog equips you with a comprehensive plan to transform your off-season from sluggish to successful.
Understanding Your Off-Season:
The first step is to clearly define your hotel's off-season. While some locations have distinct off-seasons (think beach resorts during winter), others might experience a dip in bookings during specific weekdays or shoulder seasons.

• Analyze Past Data: Review past booking trends to identify periods with lower occupancy rates.
• Consider Location & Weather: Factor in your location's weather patterns and typical tourist seasons.
• Benchmark Competitors: Research how your competitors approach off-season marketing.

Crafting a Winning Off-Season Marketing Plan:
Once you've defined your off-season, it's time to craft a targeted marketing plan. Here are key strategies to consider:
1. Target the Right Audience:
During peak season, you likely cater to a broader range of guests. But for the off-season, focus on attracting specific guest segments with interests that align with your hotel's offerings and the off-season experience. Here are some potential off-season target audiences:

• Business Travelers: Attract business travelers with competitive corporate rates, special packages with workspace amenities, and convenient weekday booking options.
• Local Residents: Offer staycation packages for local residents seeking a relaxing getaway close to home. Partner with local businesses for discounts at restaurants or attractions to create a well-rounded staycation experience.
• Weekend Warriors: Entice weekend getaways with romantic packages, family-friendly deals, or themed weekend events (think fall foliage tours or cozy winter retreats).
• Digital Nomads: Cater to the growing trend of remote work by offering attractive long-term stay packages with discounted rates, co-working space access, and high-speed internet.

2. Leverage the Power of Content Marketing:
Create engaging content that showcases the unique appeal of your hotel and surrounding area during the off-season. Here are some content ideas:

• Blog Posts: Write informative blog posts highlighting the advantages of visiting your location during the off-season. Feature articles on local events, hidden gems, and seasonal activities guests can enjoy.
• Social Media Marketing: Share captivating photos and videos showcasing the beauty of your hotel and surrounding area during the off-season. Utilize targeted social media advertising to reach your chosen audience segments.
• Email Marketing: Develop targeted email campaigns promoting off-season packages and highlighting the unique benefits of visiting during this time. Segment your email list to ensure your message reaches the most relevant audience.

3. Create Enticing Off-Season Packages:
Develop irresistible off-season packages that incentivize bookings and highlight the value proposition of your hotel. Consider these components:

• Competitive Rates: Offer discounted room rates to attract guests price-sensitive during the off-season. Bundle room rates with value-added amenities, such as free breakfast or spa treatments, to heighten the package appeal.
• Themed Experiences: Create themed packages that cater to specific interests, such as "Wine & Dine Weekends" partnering with local wineries, or "Fall Foliage Escape Packages" including guided hikes or scenic drives.
• Local Partnerships: Collaborate with local businesses to offer bundled packages that include activities or experiences relevant to the off-season. This showcases your hotel's integration with the local community and creates a more immersive guest experience.

4. Optimize Your Hotel Website & Online Presence:
Ensure your hotel website is optimized for off-season marketing. Here's what to consider:

• Highlight Off-Season Activities & Amenities: Showcase the activities and amenities your hotel offers that are particularly appealing during the off-season.
• Update Your Website Content: Modify your website content to emphasize the benefits of visiting during the off-season. Include clear information on off-season packages and promotions.
• Optimize Your Hotel Listing: Ensure your hotel listing on online travel agencies (OTAs) and travel booking platforms is updated with accurate information about off-season rates and packages.

5. Embrace the Power of Public Relations (PR):
Reach a wider audience by generating positive press coverage about your hotel and the off-season experience. Here are some strategies:

• Press Releases: Issue press releases announcing exciting off-season packages, themed events, or partnerships with local businesses.
• Media Outreach: Proactively reach out to travel journalists and bloggers specializing in your region or target audience. Highlight the unique off-season offerings and experiences your hotel provides.
• Social Media Contests & Giveaways: Run engaging social media contests or giveaways that encourage user-generated content and promote your off-season offerings.

Grow My Bookings: Your Partner in Off-Season Success
Navigating the complexities of off-season marketing can be challenging. Partnering with Grow My Bookings offers several advantages:

• Data-Driven Strategies: Our team utilizes data and analytics to identify underperforming periods and develop targeted marketing campaigns to maximize off-season bookings.
• Content Creation Expertise: Our content creators craft compelling website content, social media posts, and email marketing campaigns that effectively reach your target audience and entice off-season bookings.
• Package Development & Promotion: We assist in creating attractive off-season packages and implementing effective online and offline promotional strategies.
• Search Engine Optimization (SEO) Expertise: We optimize your hotel website and online listings to ensure your hotel appears prominently in search engine results for relevant off-season travel queries.
• Public Relations & Media Outreach: Our team has established relationships with travel media outlets and can help generate positive press coverage about your hotel and off-season offerings.

Transform Your Off-Season from Slow to Sold Out
By implementing these comprehensive strategies and partnering with Grow My Bookings, you can transform your off-season from a period of sluggish bookings to a time of increased revenue and guest engagement. Remember, the off-season presents a valuable opportunity to attract new guest segments, showcase your hotel's unique offerings, and strengthen your brand reputation.
Contact Grow My Bookings today for a free consultation. Let's discuss your hotel's unique needs and create a customized off-season marketing plan that drives bookings and propels your business towards year-round success.
Together, let's turn your off-season into a season of opportunity!

We live in extra stressful times. That’s why a solid self-care Ideas routine is critical to keeping your you-know-what together (at least most of the time — it’s normal to have the occasional anxiety explosion.) And what taking care of yourself means is different depending not just on who you are, but on what you’re going through, how much time you have, what you find makes you feel less stressed, and what you can afford. Whatever your self-care routine winds up being for you, the important thing is that it gives you life, rather than sucking the life out of you.

11 Ways to Practice Self-Care

Self-care is crucial for maintaining both mental and physical well-being. Here are some ideas to consider:

• Regular Exercise:
  • Engage in physical activities that you enjoy, whether it’s going for a walk, practicing yoga, lifting weights, or dancing. Exercise releases endorphins, which can boost your mood and reduce stress.
• Healthy Eating:
  
  • Fuel your body with nutritious foods that provide energy and support overall health. Aim for a balanced diet rich in fruits, vegetables, whole grains, lean proteins, and healthy fats.
• Adequate Sleep:
  
  • Prioritize getting enough sleep each night. Establish a relaxing bedtime routine and create a comfortable sleep environment to ensure quality rest.
• Mindfulness and Meditation:
  
  • Practice mindfulness meditation or deep breathing exercises to reduce stress, increase self-awareness, and promote relaxation.
• Journaling:
  
  • Write down your thoughts, feelings, and experiences in a journal. Journaling can help you process emotions, gain insight into yourself, and track your progress over time.
• Limit Screen Time:
  
  • Take breaks from screens, especially before bedtime. Too much screen time can disrupt sleep and contribute to feelings of stress and overwhelm.
• Set Boundaries
  
  • Learn to say no to things that drain your energy or cause unnecessary stress. Establish healthy boundaries in your relationships and prioritize your own needs.
• Connect with Others:
  
  • Spend time with friends, family, or supportive individuals who lift you and make you feel valued. Social connections are important for mental health and can provide a sense of belonging and support.

Self-Care Ideas-Some features:

• Engage in Hobbies: Make time for activities that bring you joy and fulfillment, whether it’s painting, playing music, gardening, or crafting.
  
• Nature and Fresh Air: Spend time outdoors in nature, whether it’s going for a hike, taking a walk in the park, or simply sitting outside and enjoying the fresh air and sunlight.
  
• Practice Gratitude: Cultivate a gratitude practice by regularly reflecting on the things you’re thankful for. Focusing on the positives in your life can improve your mood and overall outlook.
  
• Seek Professional Help: If you’re struggling with your mental health, don’t hesitate to seek support from a therapist, counselor, or mental health professional.
  
• Therapy can provide valuable tools and strategies for managing stress, anxiety, depression, and other challenges.
  

Remember that self-care is a personal journey, and it’s important to find what works best for you. Experiment with different activities and practices, and prioritize self-care as an essential part of your routine.
Learn More: https://senzicare.com/

The Purpose of Life for Man

One of the most direct verses on the subject of "the meaning (or purpose) of (human) life" in the Bible can be found in Revelation:

"Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created."-Revelation 4:11

This, of course, should prompt us to ask what exactly does God take pleasure in?
Conversely, what doesn't He take pleasure in?

"Wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before the high God? shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves of a year old? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil? shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?"-Micah 6:6-8

God does not take pleasure in mere outward religiosity and ritual, but rather finds honest acts of love towards Him and others as more important when pertaining to our fulfillment of what God expects from us as His creation. God takes great pleasure in us doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with Him. This is what He requires of us. In other words...

"Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil."-Ecclesiastes 12:13-14

The Book of Ecclesiastes is an existential treatise on the futility of finding any meaning or fulfillment in life apart from God. In it, "the Preacher" (or "Teacher" in some translations) explores the limits of human experiences which may provide meaning or fulfillment in this life before the author of the book inevitably concludes that the only thing we can do that has any kind of meaning or permanence in the end is fearing God and keeping His commandments. The reason for this is because the march of time and our own mortality effectively make most human endeavors hevel. The Hebrew word "hevel" is translated as vanity in the King James.
The following is taken from BibleProject:

In Hebrew, hevel literally refers to “vapor” or “smoke.” The teacher uses this word 38 times throughout the book of Ecclesiastes as a metaphor to describe how life is temporary and fleeting, like a wisp of smoke, but also how life is an enigma or paradox. Smoke appears solid, but when you try to grab it, it’s like nothing is there.

[...]

The author’s basic goal is to target all of the ways we try to build meaning and purpose in life apart from God and then let the teacher deconstruct them. The author thinks that people spend most of their time investing energy and emotion in things that ultimately have no lasting meaning or significance. And so he allows the teacher to give us a reality check.

The Preacher gives us a "reality check" by demonstrating how time and death effectively make things like scientific and artistic discovery (1:10-11), mirth (2:1), alcohol (2:3), architecture (2:4), amassing property (2:7-8), and luxury (2:8) all hevel. Materialism and hedonism fail to fulfill, and though wisdom and righteousness are acknowledged by the preacher to be advantageous, the righteous and wise are still often victims of injustice and unfairness in the world while the wicked get to prosper and have longevity at times (1:13-18). Generally, your life will probably be better by living in the wisdom given in Proverbs (Ecc. 7:11-12; 9:13-18), but it's no guarantee that you will have a good life as bad things still happen to good people, and good things still happen to bad people. This isn't entirely "hevel" but it's confusing and disorienting because things don't always work out the way we think they should in this life.
Again, from BibleProject:

So what’s the way forward in the midst of all this hevel? Paradoxically, the teacher discovers that the key to truly enjoying life is accepting hevel, acknowledging that everything in your life is totally out of your control. About six different times, at the bleakest moments in his dialogue, the teacher suddenly talks about “the gift of God,” which is the enjoyment of the simple, good things in life such as friendship, family, a good meal, or a sunny day.
You and I can’t control the most important things in our lives. Nothing is guaranteed, and, strangely, that’s the beauty of it. When I adopt a posture of complete trust in God, it frees me to simply enjoy life as I actually experience it and not as I think it ought to be. In the end, even my expectations about life, my hopes and dreams, are all “hevel, hevel. Everything under the sun is hevel.”
The teacher’s words come to an end, and the author takes over, bringing the book to a close. He says that it is very important to hear what the teacher has to say. He likens the teacher’s words to a shepherd’s staff with a goad, a pointy end that will hurt when it pokes you. But that pain can ultimately steer you in the right direction towards greater wisdom.
The author warns us not to take the teacher’s words too far. You can spend your entire life buried in books trying to answer the existential puzzles of human life. Don’t exhaust yourself, he says. You’ll never get there. Instead, the author offers his own conclusion that we should “fear God and keep his commands; this is the whole duty of humans. For God will bring every deed into judgment, every hidden thing, whether good or evil” (Ec. 12:13-14).

Fearing the Lord doesn’t guarantee success in this life, but it is the right thing to do, and ultimately God will clear the "hevel" and bring His justice on all we have done. Therefore, we ought to keep God's commandments.
Through Jesus, we see the Bible clearing the confusion many have, and still have, about God's commandments and what exactly they are (in essence, at least):

"Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets."-Matthew 22:37-40

The apostle Paul puts it like this:

"For all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this; Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself."-Galatians 5:14

The apostle John, like this:

"And we have known and believed the love that God hath to us. God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him."-1 John 4:16

In other words, the first and second greatest commandments can be seen as inextricably intertwined, as one cannot truly love God without loving their fellow man, and vice versa.
So, to put it bluntly, the meaning, or purpose, of (human) life according to the Bible is simply love.

"What Does It Mean to Love Biblically?"

But, what exactly is love anyway? We know that, according to the apostle John, God is love. But, what does that mean exactly?
The ancient Greeks had anywhere between four and eight different words for love (depending on the source):

• Storge: affection
  
• Philia or Phileo: friendship
  
• Eros: sexual, erotic
  
• Agape: unconditional, divine, selfless
  
• Ludus: flirtatious, playful, casual, uncommitted
  
• Pragma: committed, long-standing
  
• Philautia: self-love
  
• Mania: obsessive, possessive, addictive, dependent
  

The word translated as "charity" in the KJV's rendering of 1st Corinthians 13 is agape. A more accurate translation of the word would be "love," more specifically, the love of God. In this passage, Paul talks about the importance of having this kind of love for others compared to all the things we might typically obsess over concerning the things of God. Even things like charity to the poor itself, if not motivated by agape, does not impress God! Our motivations and heart matter to God just as much, if not more, than our actions themselves.
This is what the Bible defines as true love, or at least, is the kind of love it's most concerned about.
In order to demonstrate to another that we love them, we sacrifice something. For God, He sent His only begotten Son to die for our sins (John 3:16). For Jesus, he sacrificed himself to save us from our sins:

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."-John 15:13

In essence, true love is self-sacrifice. Putting others before ourselves is the greatest kind of sacrifice.
God didn't have to send His Son, but He did. Jesus didn't have to accept the mission, but he did.
God loves you, and Jesus loves you.
We demonstrate to others that we love them by sacrificing our wants and desires for them. These sacrifices can range from really small, to really big. Loving others is a daily practice of making greater and greater sacrifices.

“You can will to love people. Love is not a feeling. Love is a willing, and the Lord says to love people. He did not mean [to merely] feel love for them” — A.W. Tozer

A stumbling block for many in their walk with God is the inability to love one's enemies and to love unlovable people as Jesus did. It’s difficult for us to show love to people we don’t feel love for; to people we despise or dislike. We also tend to struggle with extending grace and mercy to those who’ve hurt us. I myself often wonder whether I am even capable of loving everyone the way Jesus does.
As I grow in my faith, I realize it’s not that I’m incapable of loving like Jesus; I’m just not always willing to. My unwillingness to love indicates that I am unwittingly adopting the worldly view of love, which is based on feelings and merit. I am choosing not to love people I feel are underserving of my love. The more I study Scripture, though, the more I realize Biblical love is not a feeling or an emotion; it’s a decision. It is an action, and it’s sacrificial. It’s not something you feel; it is, again, something you practice.

“Biblical love is a choice to do good for another person regardless of what we feel. It is a decision to compassionately and righteously pursue the betterment of another person. This is why you can even love your enemies according to Christ’s command.” — Tony Evans

Jesus commands us to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength (Mark 12:30). He also said, “A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another” (John 13:34). Since the Lord commands us to love, that means it is within our power to do so; therefore, love is a decision we make. Although feelings will accompany love, it’s not an emotion; it’s the decision to love regardless of how we feel.
As believers, we’re taught to love our enemies, and do good to those who hate us, and if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, "turn to him the other also" (Matt. 5:39). It’s not easy to do; hating our enemies comes naturally to us because of our evil nature. It is impossible to love our enemies on our own strength; we need the help of the Spirit of God.
The decision to love your enemies arises from the decision to obey the will of God and the desire to be Christlike. We choose to love our enemies because God said so and loved us first. Jesus said we are to love as he loved us.

“But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”-Romans 5:8

So Biblical love is sacrificial love. It is not a feeling but an act of will; the desire to put the welfare of others above your own. This type of love is not a love based on affection or emotion. Instead, it’s agape love, a love that is not concerned with self but is concerned more with the good of others.
We are not going to like everyone, nor are we called to; we are called to love everyone regardless of how we feel about them. It’s possible to love someone without feeling love for them when we decide to love everyone the way God loves us. The more we love through our actions, the decision to love will become a choice the heart is more willing to make.
Again, this doesn’t mean you will like or feel love for everyone, but when you put your trust in the Lord and pursue wisdom and holiness through prayer and Scripture, you will naturally develop a love for others.
To put it succinctly: Biblical love seeks the best interests of others, even our enemies, often to the detriment of ourselves. "Best interests" here doesn't necessarily mean what the other person thinks are their own best interests. It just means we do for them what we know or believe is best for them, and what we know or believe is best for them should be informed by an active participation with the Spirit of God and by His Word (the Bible) itself. Feelings may or may not accompany this, but how we feel towards the other is not what determines whether or not we're exhibiting the love of God, in the view of Jesus and the apostles. In their view, it's about whether or not we can still decide to seek the best interests of those who might harm us, or who we might not even like.

What the Real Heavenly Treasure Is

Now, this all brings us to an important question that needs to be answered: Is it wrong to love God and others while making a reward the objective for doing so?
We must ask this question, because all throughout Scripture we are told that the faithful followers of God will be "rewarded" some day for everything they've done to merit this. Giving an exhaustive list of passages that proves this point would be endless, but here are some examples of just a few:

"Then said he also to him that bade him, When thou makest a dinner or a supper, call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbours; lest they also bid thee again, and a recompence be made thee. But when thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind: And thou shalt be blessed; for they cannot recompense thee: for thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the just."-Luke 14:12-14
"I have shewed you all things, how that so labouring ye ought to support the weak, and to remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give than to receive."-Acts 20:35
"But love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest: for he is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil."-Luke 6:35

The answer to this question depends on what we define as "rewards." Most will typically adopt some vague idea of material possesions that await the believer when they get to heaven as one's reward for faithfulness towards God, or that the reward is simply an escape from punishment for one's own sins, or perhaps even some combination of these things both.
However, none of these are the "rewards" the Lord is promising to those who obey the first and second commandments. If they were, our motivation to love God and others would ultimately be selfish. Think about it. Our motivation for rewards would inherently be me-centered, and not other-centered.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Christ gives the following command:

"Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."-Matthew 6:19-21

We know there are heavenly treasures, because Jesus says so, but what are they? The issue of heavenly treasures or eternal rewards is riddled with question marks. It’s a subject that has been abused by some (“Store up treasure by giving to my ministry”) and left in the too-hard basket by others.
But the answer here is simple, and two-fold. One of our rewards are God Himself:

"After these things the word of the Lord came unto Abram in a vision, saying, Fear not, Abram: I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward."-Genesis 15:1
"But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him."-Hevrews 11:6

What is the reward of the seeker but to find that which is sought? If you are searching for God, you will find Him and He will be your very great reward.
Now, if you are the newest believer or the eleventh-hour worker, you will be as richly blessed as the oldest, most faithful saint. Eternity will not be divided into the haves and have-nots, for we are all one in the New Jerusalem.
But we can distinguish God our reward from the heavenly treasure that Jesus said can be stored up. You cannot "store up" more of God, after all.
So what are heavenly treasures? The answer may surprise you, but it’s people.

"Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his reward."-Psalm 127:3

What is the only thing you can take with you? People, a.k.a. eternal friends, a.k.a. spiritual offspring. This Psalm is not just talking about biological children. God has bigger plans for you and they involve spiritual children. Lots of them. Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands. Millions. Don’t limit God.
So much time and effort is spent debating heavenly treasures as though they were some great mystery. What are they? Jesus makes it plain: it's people.

• Just as Abraham was called to be the father of many nations, so are you.
  
• Jesus said those who followed him would be fishers of men. What is a fisherman’s reward? It’s fish, or people in this case.
  
• What is the reward of the one who sows and waters the good seed? It’s a harvest of people.
  
• What is treasure that never wears out and cannot be stolen? It’s people.
  

God's heart cries, “I treasure children. The more, the better!” In Matthew chapter 5, Jesus introduces God as our heavenly Father. In Matthew chapter 6, Jesus says God is a Father who rewards us. And what is a father’s reward?
It is children.
“Sounds great, but I am no evangelist.” You don’t need to be an evangelist to win eternal friends. Believers can live such godly lives that unbelievers will be won to the kingdom (1 Pet. 2:12; Matt. 5:16).
God's desire is to grow the world’s largest family and He treats people like treasure. This is obvious once you see it. Indeed, it’s a theme that runs throughout Scripture:

"For thou art an holy people unto the Lord thy God: the Lord thy God hath chosen thee to be a special people unto himself, above all people that are upon the face of the earth."-Deuteronomy 7:6
"For thou art an holy people unto the Lord thy God, and the Lord hath chosen thee to be a peculiar people unto himself, above all the nations that are upon the earth."-Deuteronomy 14:2
"And the Lord hath avouched thee this day to be his peculiar people, as he hath promised thee, and that thou shouldest keep all his commandments;"-Deuteronomy 26:18
"To whom coming, as unto a living stone, disallowed indeed of men, but chosen of God, and precious, Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ. Wherefore also it is contained in the scripture, Behold, I lay in Sion a chief corner stone, elect, precious: and he that believeth on him shall not be confounded. Unto you therefore which believe he is precious: but unto them which be disobedient, the stone which the builders disallowed, the same is made the head of the corner, And a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence, even to them which stumble at the word, being disobedient: whereunto also they were appointed. But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light;"-1 Peter 2:4-9

Like Jesus, Paul eagerly gave to the poor (Gal. 2:10). He did not give out of religious duty or to put a shine on his reputation. He did it because he loved people and wanted to share the love of God with as many as possible (1 Cor. 13:3).
Life is a gift that is easily wasted. We can waste it running after inferior rewards that rust, or we can do what Jesus and Paul did and invest ourselves in the only reward that lasts: people.

God Is Faithful

Someone once asked me, "Why would God be concerned as to whether or not we 'have trust and confidence in him' when He's judging us and when He determines what our fate will be?"
Having trust and confidence in God, according to the Biblical authors, is required for us to fulfill His commandment that we love Him, and thus also love others. (See Hebrews 11.)
As with a spouse, you cannot truly love them if you do not have some level of trust or confidence in them, and vice versa. All relationships require trust, from both parties. God wants us to trust Him that He will keep His promises towards those of us who love and follow Him. He also wants to trust us that we will enter the kingdom of heaven with a righteous and loving character. He doesn't want another rebellion in paradise, so He's trying to see if we truly love righteousness for righteousness' sake. A truly righteous person wouldn't want to rebel against Him when the time comes that they enter the kingdom of God themselves, because a person with a righteous character wouldn't ever do such a thing.
As Open Theists, we believe we're being consistent in our belief that God, at times, puts trials before us to test whether or not we will remain trustworthy enough in our character to be deemed worthy of entrance into His kingdom. The Classical Theist doesn't have the luxury of being consistent if they have this same belief.
In the Book of Job, Satan makes an accusation towards someone God has deemed as truly righteous: Job.
Satan assails God’s wisdom and character in running the world by alleging that people only serve Him because of what they get out of it. God protects them from disaster and blesses them in other ways. Their obedience, he is suggesting, isn’t really a free choice. "There is no genuine virtue in the world," Satan is claiming. "There are only self-serving bargains, and obedience for the sake of being protected and blessed is one of them. Hence, true holiness and virtuous obedience are an illusion." "Take away a person’s protection," Satan insists, "and let me have my way with people, and they will stop living for God" (Job 1:9-11; 2:4-5).
God has so much faith in Job that he will not succumb to proving the false accusations being levied towards him and God's way of running things in general that He ends up accepting the challenge. For God, this is as much a test of His faith towards His servant as it is for Job for his Lord. The adversary, we see, was assailing God’s integrity and wisdom in overseeing the creation. Satan was, in effect, accusing God of being a Machiavellian ruler. In the context of this narrative, it was an assault that could only be refuted by being put to the test.
Had God simply forced Satan into silence, without proving him wrong, it would have simply confirmed the accuracy of Satan’s charge. It would have shown that there is no integrity or wisdom in how God runs the world after all. "There is only the exercise of power, used to manipulate beings into obeying Him. People serve God only as a bargain, not out of genuine love."
No, the challenge had to be answered by having it put to the test. The most righteous man on the earth was thus chosen to be tested. If Job failed, the narrative suggests, then Satan will have made his point. If he succeeded, however, then God’s wisdom and integrity in running the cosmos will have been vindicated. Hence, the protective fence around Job is removed and Satan is allowed to afflict him.
In the end, Job proves faithful to God and is even referenced in the New Testament as an example of the kind of faithfulness He expected of first century believers facing persecution and trials:

"Behold, we count them happy which endure. Ye have heard of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord; that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy."-James 5:11

While most of us aren't dealing with the life-threatening kind of persecution that believers faced in the first century, for the very fact that the eschatological end of physical Israel and the Old Covenant system was fastly approaching for them (and already has approached), we still each face our own trials that God puts in our lives as individuals to see if we truly love Him. Job is simply the ultimate example of one who loved God because they chose to, not because God forced them to.
After all, you never know if your love is pure if it isn't tested...

This may seem like a fake post but I assure you it isn’t. When we first got together we were a long distance couple and would see each other every other weekend. When we’d be together we would have sex everyday and many times in the middle of the night. She dressed well, was a lot of fun to be with, had a good degree, and had ambition and drive for her career. She was already a mother when I met her and seemed to be really confident about her body and I thought that was incredibly sexy. Fast forward to us getting married relatively quickly and things starting to change from the honeymoon phase ending.
One of the issues is she farts…A LOT. Thank god they hardly ever stink, but I’m constantly hearing farts all day everyday. These aren’t the little quiet farts either; these are manly farts. We’ve been married for over 5 years now and my patience for her persistent flatulence has basically run dry. She knows it annoys me how much she farts and if I express any kind of reaction, she gets really pissy and says something like, “what!? I can’t help that I’m gassy!” If we attend a party or other social event, she’ll hold her farts in the whole time and then release them throughout the remainder of the night after we leave. Those farts are the worst because they’re so loud and strong sounding followed by the sound of her exhaling. It’s just so gross to me now and I don’t know what else to do about it. I’ve gone so far to ask her to not fart for about 20 minutes leading to us being intimate and she thought that was ludicrous but begrudgingly agreed to it.
Another issue I have is that her fashion sense is horrible. When we first got together she had some nice outfits and shoes that she would wear. Now she dresses like a grandma and it embarrasses me. We can afford nice clothes for her to wear, she just hates shopping so she’ll wear clothes until they have too many noticeable holes in them. One example of her outfits is this sweatpants and sweater outfit she bought together. They have this horrendous lace on the top of the arms and down the sides of the pants. I asked her if those were a set of pajamas and she insists they aren’t. She’s calmed down on wearing them because I always say something about how much they look like pajamas and I think she’s more tired of hearing me say that than she is acknowledging that it’s a goofy outfit. One last item of clothing is this shirt that she loves wearing. It’s one of those cheap licensed shirts that people can buy at Walmart and it’s supposed to look a bit faded but with the large fit and general sloppy look, the shirt looks very dumb. I’ve even told her that tighter shirts look better on her frame so this favorite shirt should become a shirt she only wears at home. One time we were going out as a family and she tried wearing that shirt. I gently asked if she could pick another shirt to wear that day and she was annoyed and a little offended by that.
Lastly, her hygiene is starting to really bother me. I know a lot of women only wash their hair every other day, but she only takes showers every other day. Many times she’ll go 3 days without a shower. As you can imagine, there are some funky smells that start to occur after going that long without bathing, especially when you’re churning out farts every 20 minutes. There was a period of time that I was only getting sex on day 2 of her not showering. I couldn’t take it anymore and tried to gently tell her that I enjoy sex a lot more when her body is clean. I don’t even need her to shower before sex, I just want her to shower at some point that day. She was offended and now occasionally gives me shit like, “don’t worry. I showered today in case you were worried”. Like, yeah I was a bit because I’m tired of smelling straight ass when were doing doggy style. There have been times that she’s put an item of clothing on and it smells musty. When I tell her it smells bad, she’s just annoyed she has to change out of that item. It’s almost like she’d rather walk around smelling like a wet dog than change her pants or shirt.
My wife is a great mom and really does that well. She’s always thinking of the kids and tries to give them her best. I love my wife too, but these issues are becoming more and more bothersome for me and I don’t know what to do. A lot of the things I used to find her sexy for have gone away. I try my best to encourage her and build her up by telling her she looks cute when she does or compliment her smell when she smells nice, but that doesn’t seem to incentivize her. I feel like I’m not asking for much. I would hope that if I walked around with a big stain on my shirt or looked like I just woke up on a park bench that she would be bothered by that and want to say something to me. I just want a partner that halfway cares about the way they present themselves. As for the farts, I have no idea what to do for that.

be me; ex LizarDM
be also me; Adonis Valintellis (Tiefling Paladin), Thalia Milakos (Human Ranger) and Zaahir Kehmet (Earth Genasi Wizard)
the soldier stifled a yawn as he patrolled the sandy beaches of Kalikos
clouds hid the island from the moon’s spectral glow, casting the land into darkness and turning the often silver seas black as coal
his shift had been a long one and just as boring as expected
where once his mind had been sharp and alert, it now lingered on thoughts of a cold drink and a warm bed
his eyes scanned the shore superficially, passing over the same stones and grassy knolls he’d seen a hundred times before
on any other night, he may have noticed the discrepancies in the shoreline
the new rock that appeared almost boat-like on second glance
but alas, his mind was a thousand miles away, and the javelin hit him without warning
the soldier collapsed to his knees, gasping for air like a fish on land
his armour had spared him from the worst of the damage, but the javelin had done its job
stunned and winded, he was rendered defenceless against the four figures that emerged from the darkness
a thought crossed his mind to sound the alarm; but his limbs refused to move and his lungs pleaded for breath
one member of the pack split from the rest. A stout dwarf with a full beard and a grim expression
they approached the helpless man, drawing a sharply curved short sword from their belt
the soldier tried to move
tried to yell
but the dwarf closed the distance between them and cut his throat, putting a violent end to his struggles
wiping the blood clean from his weapon, Oryk hauled the body behind cover before jogging to catch up with his companions
the Order of the Twins moved like shadows in the night. Their passage muffled by the spells woven about their feet
that said, their infiltration still proved easier than expected
skirting the edges of the island, the party avoided common paths and watchful eyes; slipping between gaps in the meagre defences they encountered
their route took them just below the peak of the island; where a lavish home stared out across the ocean
in the distance, tiny twinkling lights just barely outlined the Athosi mainland
the house itself was lit up like a beacon in the night, and roaming globules of fire identified the few guards on rotation. Six or seven at most
less than a third of what they had anticipated
counting their blessings, the small band of adventurers navigated the narrow pathways around the house and approached the island’s southern side, where a lonely dirt road wound its way towards a grove of trees
they moved swiftly and silently through the long grass that grew on either side, but they needn’t have bothered
the road was unguarded, and the entrance to the grove lay bare
“this is too easy,” Cyrene whispered; fidgeting nervously with an iron band around her wrist. “Where are the rest of the guards?”
she, like the rest of her companions, had a dishevelled look to her appearance
a thinness to her features that implied more than a couple missed meals
Oryk shot her a stern look, and the half orc immediately shut her mouth
turning his gaze to the two half elves to his rear, he was answered with obedient silence
Maia had always been thin, but now she was practically gaunt
her eyes carried a weight, and an ugly scar split her lip on the left side
Iris, her sister, had once identified herself with long curly hair
now, it was cut short, and crudely so. As if done with an altogether uncaring hand
both twins wore the same iron band as Cyrene around their left wrist
a thin piece of metal that coiled around their limb like a snake
with a commanding wave of his hand, Oryk led the party through the grove’s northern entrance and into the trees beyond
moving like ghosts between the thin trunks and shallow underbrush, the group made good progress before they heard the sudden snap of a twig in the darkness
Oryk raised a fist and the advance came to an abrupt stop, scanning their surroundings with tense expressions
a series of soft whispers drifted between the trees, accompanied by the rustling of leaves and groaning of branches
the dwarven fighter drew his sica and his companions complied, unsheathing their weapons in response
they began to spot lithe, feminine figures peering out at them from behind the trees. Staring at the strangers with bright, emerald eyes
the women had skin like mottled bark, and hair that plumed about them like foliage
“dryads,” Cyrene declared, lowering her rhomphaia with the faintest hint of relief
Iris and Maia exchanged a look before lowering their own weapons, albeit keeping them close at hand
Oryk, however, raised his short sword threateningly, and pointed it at the nearest nature spirit
“get back in your trees and stay there. Interfere, and we will not hesitate to kill you”
the dryad in question retreated, but the others stood their ground as a frantic whispering filled the trees around them
something dangerous glimmered in Oryk’s eyes, and his fingers tightened around the hilt of his sica
“NOW!” he suddenly bellowed, his voice deep and commanding
the drayds scattered into the trees, leaving a myriad of foul curses and even fouler odours in their wake
Oryk gave a satisfied grunt and turned to leave, only to nearly walk into the dryad that now stood in his way
a spirit with speckled, ashy skin and a stern, stubborn expression
Oryk approached them with his weapon raised
“get out of my way,” he growled. “I won’t ask a third time”
the dryad stared down at him like a disapproving adult would a petulant child, and when it spoke, it did so with a voice like wind through a canopy
“if you were wise, you would return to your masters. You will not find what you seek here”
its eyes lifted to the party, as if directing its words to them
with a snarl, Oryk swiped at the dryad, only to be met by a cloud of pollen and stinging nettles
cursing aloud between bouts of frantic coughing, the dwarf fled the swarm and started rubbing his eyes, which had already begun streaming with tears
muttering under her breath, Cyrene approached his side and laid a hand on his shoulder
“come now, let me see”
lowering his hands to his side, Oryk turned to face her with a grimace, his eyes puffy and red
“Archons above, Oryk,” Cyrene cursed. “You should know better than to taunt a dryad”
as the words left her mouth, the band on her wrist suddenly tightened and the half orc gave a small yelp of pain
glaring at her through bloodshot eyes, Oryk gave the cleric a venomous look
“and you should know better than to speak out of line”
Cyrene’s hands fumbled at the metal around her wrist, refusing to meet the dwarf’s cruel gaze
the cuff continued to coil and squeeze; writhing like a living being as Cyrene frantically whispered a foreign chant beneath her breath
the words seemed to appease the magic item, and it loosened its grip in response
witnessing this cruel display of discipline, the twins began unconsciously massaging the band around their own wrists; as if reminiscing on a similar experience
shaking the pain from her arm, Cyrene set to work curing Oryk’s ailment, uttering a slew of healing spells
with his eyesight restored, Oryk sheathed his weapon and pushed past Cyrene, wandering into the trees
with little other choice other than to follow, the group set off after him
the party walked for some time before a sound other than buzzing insects and murmured curses reached their ears
a low, rumbling that echoed through the trees. Like a dull droning that came in ebbs and flows
once more the group came to a stop, and before Oryk could even turn to look towards the twins, they had already begun to move
creeping forward with the lightest of footsteps, Maia and Iris stealthily approached the sound, deftly avoiding any stray branches or betraying stones
the droning grew louder and louder, until the pair had stopped just shy of its source
peering around a trunk with sharp blue eyes, Maia scanned what lay ahead
the trees parted around an ancient oak, its roots deep and its branches tall
a hollow sat about half way up the trunk. A small opening just wide enough to put a hand or two inside
but the tree was not so interesting as what lay beneath
coiled around the trunk was a creature with a long, serpentine body
its scales, green and flecked with brown, were hard and interlocked like shields in a phalanx
its head, immense and filled with razor sharp teeth, lay curled just below the hollow of the tree
the low rumbling emanated from the monster’s chest, as it uttered a long, prolonged snore
Maia’s jaw tightened and her eyes flitted over to her sister
Iris’ face had gone pale, and her hand had instinctively dropped to grab at the empty sheath on her belt
a prize taken by their employer
the twins locked eyes, and shared a moment of profound fear
wetting her suddenly very dry lips, Maia gestured back towards the trees and Iris nodded in silent agreement
the two stealthily retreated, keeping their footsteps light all the way back to their comrades
Oryk almost jumped when the twins materialised beside him, emerging from the darkness without warning
“well?” he hissed, his voice rising above the droning snores. “What did you find?”
Iris frantically gestured for the dwarf to quiet down, as Maia shot a terrified glance back in the direction of the oak tree
only when they heard the low droning of the monster’s snores did the pair relax enough to answer
“dragon”
the word held in the air like a curse
Cyrene’s eyes widened, and had it not been for the band on her wrist, she most certainly would have uttered a prayer
even Oryk’s permanently affixed scowl faded as the blood drained from his face
when he finally spoke, he did so with no semblance of his usual condescension
“...how big?”
“8 meters,” Iris answered. “No more than 12”
Oryk nodded, his brow knitting together as he dropped into a crouch
“a juvenile,” he thought aloud. “Hasn’t reached full adulthood. Scorch marks?”
“none that we could see”
“good. Then either it’s too young to breathe fire, or it spits poison”
his eyes narrowed to points as he mulled things over in his head
the group kept quiet, forced to listen to the distant, droning snores as their leader considered their options
after a long stretch of time, Oryk took a sharp inhale and straightened his posture
“it’s asleep?”
his eyes shifted to Maia, and the half elf tensed
“we think so but…”
“we don’t know for certain,” Iris quickly interrupted. “We’ve never encountered a dragon before. We should call off the mission and come back more prepared”
a deadly silence fell over the group as the dwarf went still
“call off the mission?” he repeated
his voice was calm, but the words held a distinct edge to them
like the blade of a meticulously sharpened knife
“and since when did you make the calls in this party?”
Maia shot her sister a look, and Iris lowered her eyes
“never,” she answered
“that’s right. Never,” Oryk reiterated, holding the half elf in his steely gaze. “We do things my way, as we always have”
Iris’ clamped her mouth shut and the dwarvish fighter turned to look at his other companions
“unless you have all forgotten what awaits us if we fail? What will happen if we come back empty handed?”
he was met with silence and a slow shake of Cyrene’s head
“failure isn’t an option,” he continued. “If the drakon is asleep, we need to act now”
his gaze shifted to Maia
“so can you do what I need you to?”
the half elf swallowed and tried to slow her racing heartbeat
“I think so,” she meekly answered
“good. The rest of us will wait in position. We’ll flank the tree from three sides and-”
“-I’ll do it,” Iris suddenly interjected
Oryk’s teeth flashed in a grimace before he turned to face her
“I’ll retrieve the objective,” Iris clarified, meeting the dwarf’s gaze
“Maia is quieter,” Oryk bluntly retorted. “She stands a better chance of getting to the tree than you do”
“but with my magic-”
“-your magic that we need for the escape,” he interrupted. “We have a plan, stick to it”
he turned back to the front and began drawing out a rough plan in the dirt with his sica
“-while Maia sneaks in, we hold here to provide support. Once we have what we came for, we leave back through the northern exit”
Iris’ eye twitched, and Maia reached out to drop a hand on her sister’s arm
“Iris-” she quietly started
but her warning went unheeded, and Iris spoke up again
“what’s the point of saving my magic if we don’t get what we came for?” she argued
Oryk spun with a stormy expression, pointing his blade to her chest
“because I said so!” he snapped. “And you will do what you’re told!”
he may have stood half a head shorter than Iris, but in that moment, Oryk felt like a giant, and in the silence of the trees, his voice sounded like a clap of thunder
Iris’ face paled and Oryk realised what he had done
instinctively, the party held their breath; anticipating a monstrous roar, or the crash of falling trees
but after a few tense seconds, all they heard was the rhythmic rumbling of distant snores
the group letting out a collective sigh of relief that cut through the tension like a knife
tension that returned the moment Oryk opened his mouth
“do you want to be sent across the Chronaean?” he hissed. “Do you want to leave your sister alone?”
Iris’ eyes shifted to Cyrene, searching for some glimmer of support
instead, the half orc looked away, leaving the half elf to face their leader alone
“of course I don’t,” Iris mumbled
“exactly,” Oryk spat. “Stay in line, do what you’re told, and keep your mouth shut”
he turned to Maia with an expression that encouraged absolute obedience
“get the objective, and get out. Nod if you understand”
Maia gave a slight jerk of her head
“good. Now get moving”
the dwarf stormed off into the trees, and Cyrene quickly shot up to follow him
Maia and Iris exchanged a look of resignation before joining their trusted comrades

Maia stood in position by the edge of the clearing, mentally projecting her path to and from the hollow
it was a simple job, really
dart across the open ground
jump up to the low branch on the left side
climb over to the main trunk
grab the objective
and do it all again
simple
if it weren’t for the dragon in the way
Maia's heart began to pound in her chest until she felt a hand fall gently across her arm
she turned, meeting Iris' concerned gaze
“you don’t have to do this,” her sister whispered; practically breathing the words into Maia’s ear
“yes I do,” Maia answered, keeping her voice just as quiet. “You heard Oryk. We can’t go back empty handed”
“f*ck Oryk,” Iris cursed. “We’re only here because of him”
in spite of herself, a grim smile lifted the corner of Maia’s lips
it was a rare thing to hear Iris curse
“we could run, you know. Make a break for the mainland”
Maia’s smile dropped in an instant
“Iris, no”
“why not?” Iris replied earnestly. “We can make it. I know we can”
“they’ll catch us. And even if they don’t, what then? We’ve got nowhere to hide. No friends to help us. We’d be on our own”
“we’ve been alone before. We survived, didn’t we?”
Iris’ words were hopeful, but they couldn’t hide the desperation beneath
when Maia didn’t seem convinced, Iris took her sister’s face into her hands
“please don’t do this. I can’t lose you”
Maia’s eyes softened, and she placed her hands atop Iris’
“that’s why I have to do this”
she took a deep breath and tried to put on a half convincing smile
“you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve got this. I promise”
Iris’ thumb traced the scar across her sister’s lip
“I’m older. It’s my job to worry about you”
a frown fell across Maia’s face
“older by 10 minutes”
“and I’ll never let you forget it”
Iris pulled her sister into a tight hug
“don’t you dare get yourself caught”
“when have I ever?”
the two reluctantly parted, and Iris held her sister at an arm’s length
“remember. Once you have it-”
“-run like the Hounds of Chaon are after me”
a smile touched Iris’ lips, and the shadows rose up to swallow her
when they parted, the monk was gone
inhaling a slow, shaky breath, Maia composed herself, and refocused on the tree
30ft to the centre
branch on the left side
over the dragon
down to the hollow
reverse and get out
she exhaled slowly, letting the shake fade from her breath
she had this
Maia broke from the tree line, moving in a swift but stealthy manner
every step carefully laid. Every movement intentional
the dragon’s snores rumbled like thunder, growing louder with each step
before she knew it, she was beneath the low branch
taking a quick stutter step to gain momentum, she threw herself upwards, catching the branch with both hands
thankfully, the branch held firm, and Maia swung her legs up and around it
shimmying along inch by inch, she drew closer to the trunk itself, inadvertently holding her breath as she passed over the sleeping body of the dragon
its breath reeked up close. Like spoiled fruit and vinegar
it took all her strength not to gag
before she knew it, she was at the trunk of the tree and at the next step of her plan
hoisting herself up to a crouched position, she flattened her body against the side of the trunk and began sliding her foot along its length
eventually, she found a suitable foothold and began clambering across to a more central position
the hollow was just beneath her now
and beneath that, the massive head of the dragon
this close, she realised just how easily such a creature could snap her up
with her small frame, she’d be gone in one or two bites
pushing such morbid thoughts out of her mind, she leaned down until her head and arm were low enough to reach inside the hollow
her lungs were beginning to burn from holding her breath for so long, but she dared not exhale
she wasn't sure how good a dragon's senses were, but she wasn't keen to find out either
reaching her arm into the hollow, her fingers touched loose leaves and knotted wood
she pushed a little deeper, searching for any sign of her prize
something cold
something metal
but instead, she felt the hard back of the hollow
frowning, she pressed again, but still felt only the rear of the hollow
had she somehow missed it?
her fingers scrambled around, but continued to feel only wood and leaves
her lungs were really burning now, and she could feel her face flushing with colour from being upside down
regardless, she removed her arm and leaned her head down further, trying to peer inside
in the black gloom of a moonless night, a human wouldn’t have been able to see a thing
but even with her enhanced elvish sight, Maia was granted only the slightest advantage
just enough to make out the shape of the interior and the contents within
dried leaves
knotted wood
a couple insect husks
and nothing else
sure she had somehow made a mistake, she looked again and again
but with each scan, the truth became undeniable
“you will not find what you seek, here”
the dryad’s words echoed in Maia’s head, and with a cold sense of dread, she realised that the spirit hadn’t been speaking rhetorically
the amulet wasn’t here
and with that realisation, Maia’s lungs could hold on no longer
her breath escaped all at once, her awkward position driving the air out in an undignified huff
she clamped a hand over her mouth, but the damage had been done
she had made a sound, however small, and already her breath was mixing with the cool air
time slowed to a crawl as the dragon’s snores came to a stop
she watched in terror as its head, mere inches below her, began to stir
its nostrils flared; drawing breath with a deep, rasping inhale, and its eyes rolled in their sockets
the dragon’s jaws cracked open, revealing a black, forked tongue and rows of fetid teeth
rancid breath assaulted Maia’s senses, making her stomach turn and her head spin
she waited for the creature to open its eyes
to see the tiny morsel dangling helplessly above it
but they never did
to her greatest relief, the dragon remained asleep and blissfully unaware of her presence
relief swiftly turned to dismay, however, as the dragon proceeded to shift; its scales rippling like water across its long, serpentine body
the tree shook violently as the monster scraped against its surface, shearing away bark and causing branches to groan and sway
wrapping her arms around whatever she could find, Maia clung desperately as the shaking threatened to throw her loose
after what felt like an eternity, the vibrations mercifully ended, and the dragon returned to its snoring
but even after the tree had long fallen still, Maia found herself unable move; as if every single muscle in her body had frozen solid
in a moment of clarity, she realised that her hand had found her dagger in the chaos, and that the weapon was now clutched in an iron grip at her side
she almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation
as if a dagger would keep her safe if the dragon had actually awoken
nonetheless, she kept it in her hand, unwilling to relinquish the one defence she had
lifting her gaze to scan the surrounding treeline, she spotted the pale faces of her companions waiting in position. Intently following her progress with their eyes
Iris looked just as high sprung as she was. All but ready to throw herself into the open in order to save her sister
Maia silently prayed that her twin could keep her composure for just a little longer
wetting her incredibly dry lips, the rogue began scaling the tree; taking care to avoid any of the small twigs and leaves that had been shaken loose by the dragon’s shifting
upon reaching her chosen branch she paused, taking a moment to slow her racing heart beat
in spite of everything telling her otherwise, she needed to calm down
stress would lead to mistakes
and mistakes would lead to her death
feeling her muscles relax ever so slightly, Maia continued, stretching her body out to reach the low branch
her feet found purchase, and the rogue began creeping along its length
a few more steps and she’d be home free
“Maia!”
a single word
muffled and distorted, and yet agonisingly loud
Maia’s eyes dropped to the bronze surface of her dagger and saw a young woman’s face staring back at her, their eyes grey and piercing
there was a flash of familiarity in the half elf’s mind, but in that moment, she could barely recall her own name
a million thoughts raced through her mind as her heart pounded like a drum in her ears
one thought, however, screamed louder than the rest
run
Maia’s feet moved before the thought had even finished forming, propelling her from the branch a split second before it detonated into an explosion of jagged splinters
she hit the ground hard, feeling something give in her shoulder
she didn’t have time to dwell on it, as an earth shattering roar tore the world asunder
her feet were under her in an instant, and she broke into a sprint, not daring to look behind her
she knew that if she turned, all she would see is a flash of green scales and a mouth full of fangs closing in to end her life
the air began to reek of rotten fruit and then a body collided with her, throwing her aside
a cloud of noxious fumes ripped through the space she had just occupied, causing grass to shrivel and trees to wither
she felt hands on her arms and shoulders, and then Iris was yelling at her, hauling her to her feet amidst pained racking coughs
they didn’t have time to stop, barrelling through the trees in a mad dash to get away
as furious roars filled the air behind them, Iris stumbled through the underbrush, her legs unsteady beneath her
Maia looped an arm under her shoulder, and now the twins were supporting each other in a tangle of limbs
minutes passed. Or maybe just seconds. And then the two broke from the tree line onto an open road
sea winds rushed up to meet them, and Iris' legs fully gave out as she began greedily sucking in gasps of fresh air
“come on!” Maia urged, trying to drag her sister to her feet
but Iris was of no use now, her eyes bulging and her face flushed with colour
something ripped its way out of the underbrush and Maia turned sharply, instinctively raising the dagger that was still clutched in a death grip
instead of the dragon she was expecting, she found Cyrene and her rhomphaia, halfway through a cut that would have cleaved her in two
recognising each other at the same time, the pair lowered their weapons and turned to the wheezing half elf at their feet
concern flashing across her face, Cyrene dropped to her knees in preparation to cast a spell
before she could begin, however, Oryk emerged from the grove, blood splattered across his hands
“we don’t have time for that. Get her up!”
he raced past them, leading the charge back towards the beach
with a grunt of exertion, Cyrene lifted Iris into her arms like a baby, shoving her rhomphaia into Maia's hands
keeping a wary eye on her sister, Maia followed the half orc as she began jogging after their leader
as they ran, Oryk settled into pace beside Maia, shooting her a questioning look between grunts of breath
“do you have it?”
the half elf's shoulders fell, and she quietly shook her head
“it wasn’t there”
Oryk’s face turned a dark shade of red, and a vein bulged in his head
“what do you mean it wasn’t there?!”
“the amulet is gone. We missed it”
a stream of vile curses flowed from Oryk’s lips, and Maia wisely chose to keep her eyes forward and mouth shut
they reached the beach in record time, and Cyrene carefully laid Iris down into their waiting boat
as Oryk and Maia began pushing the vessel into the rolling surf, the dwarf gave her a hateful glare
“hells spare you when they find out we failed”
“we...haven’t...failed...yet”
Oryk turned his ire on Iris, who lay curled across the edge of the boat trying her best to suck in what air she could
“we...know...where...its...going,” she continued between strained, wheezing breaths. “We...still...have...time...”
leaping into the boat with a splash of water, Oryk waited just long enough for his companions to get in before heaving away with the oars
“we’d better. For all our sakes”
he sliced through the water with powerful strokes, driving them into deeper and darker waters
Maia slunk down beside Iris, taking her sister’s hand into her own
Iris dropped her head onto Maia’s shoulder, and the twins watched as the shores of Kalikos drifted further and further away

First Post: https://www.reddit.com/CradledDnDStories/comments/x8zwpv/athos_1_a_new_world_of_opportunity/
Last Post: https://www.reddit.com/CradledDnDStories/comments/1b2taqi/athos_35_mirror_mirro
Next Post:

Reddit Account: u/Thenn_Applicant
Discord Tag: Garin
Name and House: Dorian Merryweather
Age: 49
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: Dorian's chestnut brown hair has been greying for quite a while, however is short beard retains more color, including a few stray red hairs peppered throughout it. While his features have softened and gained some pudge as he aged past his prime, he remains in overall good shape. This is partly due to his great love of gardening and crop cultivation, which have left his hands and nails rather rough.
Trait: Numerate
Skills: Avaricious (e), Architect, Administrator, Investor
Talents: Language (High Valyrian) Cooking, Gardening
Negative Trait: N/A
Starting Title: Lord of Longtable
Starting Location: Opening Event
Biography:
It has been said; men grow tired of sleep, love, singing and dancing, sooner than war. As such, it begs the question, what does a man have left when he finally tires of war? In pursuit of an answer, of any answer, one half of Dorian Merryweather’s life was spent. He was the second son of Lord Arthor Merryweather of Longtable. Like many others born in a place of natural abundance, he longed for more, for something greater than a mere provincial estate. The tourneys of Highgarden, the hunts of Horn Hill and the books of Oldtown all called to him, and so he could never ride past his father’s mild and verdant fields fast enough. Dorian counted himself lucky not to be the heir, for that meant he could pick where his future lay, unchained from the uninspiring home of his childhood. Instead it was his older brother, Bennard, who envied his free-flying lifestyle, contriving any excuse to join him on his escapades and agurk lessons and ceremonies he ought to have attended.
Lord Arthor was fairly permissive of this deriliction of duties, as the friendships forced on such journeys were worth more than lessons that could be repeated later, or tasks that could be handed off to lowborn stewards. The boys attended tourneys, balls, hunts and feasts, living the life the bards extolled as the height of reachman’s chivalry. The one time they did not shirk their duties was when their father had the honor of hosting King Mern and his court for a tourney on the Warrior’s day. The Merryweather sons would present the king and his family with silver bowls of dilligrout, a most exquisite stew of capons, white wine and almond milk. They had the joy of tasting it once the Gardeners had their fill, a taste they would never forget. On the tournament field three days later, Mern knighted them both, though Dorian was only sixteen at the time, green as a knight could ever be.
Five years later, as news of Aegon Targaryen and his early conquests spread, the lords of the Reach were summoned to Goldengrove, where they found a veritable forest of Westermen’s banners being planted beside their own. The fall of the Storm Kings had led to a whirlwind of diplomacy between the houses of Gardener and Lannister. The plan was presented to the lords with the two kings sitting beside one another on the dais as though they were brothers. They held up Aegon’s letter of demands, scornfully reading it aloud and then proceeded to tear it up to a roaring acclamation from the hall. Standing there before the hall, Mern could hardly be called the Warrior incarnate. There stood a man well past his prime, old enough to be a grandfather and with no great victories to his name, in battle or on the tourney field. All the same, this man, whom they called their king, always seemed to know exactly what to say to win someone over. If he’d declared war on hell itself that evening, the Merryweather brothers would probably still have marched off with him when the next morning dawned. Bennard and Dorian shouted as loud as anyone, death to the foreign upstart. That evening were betrothed to westerwomen they’d never met before, made plans for a real battle, which they had never fought in before, and drank, ate and sang as though the night would last forever. House Merryweather was not able to secure a command, yet King Mern remembered his stay at Longtable fondly. He gave Bennard and Dorian a place in the vanguard, and even adorned Bennard with a brooch of the order of the green hand the morning before the army Goldengrove, a momentous honor which Bennard would cherish for the remainder of his days. He did not have many left, as it turned out. The Field of Fire began like a dream, as the two brothers rode off at the break of dawn, two out of five thousand sets of gleaming armor atop proud warhorses. By the end of the day it had become a nightmare. Caught up in the maelstrom of battle, Dorian did not see the moment when their loss was assured, but the Gods know he could hear it, the creeping, hungry flames that descended on the reachmen like an army of its own. As hundreds were broiled inside their steel plate and thousands more choked on the inferno’s horrible vanguard of black smoke, Bennard and Dorian broke and fled. They were not far behind the retreating Loren Lannister in their escape, but half a minute made all the difference. The lines of fire fanned out, hunting more living things to devour, and engulfed the two brothers. Dorian could feel how the flames spread from his surcoat to his undershirt, all the way down to the hairs on his chest, beginning to sear his skin. In a desperate act he threw himself in the Blackwater, and would have perished if not for the shoddy work of his squire that morning, which left him able to tear off his plate before he could sink. With bloodied, burn-marked fingers, he clung to the roots of a tree by the riverside, water up to his chest. He was retrieved after some time, how long he could not say. For the next two moons his mind was adrift, distracted from his pains by milk of the poppy. The next two were far worse, as he grew more lucid and realized the extent of the damage. A burn-mark stretched from his right thigh, all the way up his chest and left bicep to the apple of his neck. Many times over, flakes of dead or dying skin had to be peeled off by the maester as the scabs kept bursting with blood and clear liquid. By the end of that year he was able to walk again, though the burn mark would leave a feverish red mark across the front of his body, his new skin settling into twisted lines.
Bennard was far worse for wear, alive yet burned all the way to his face and crippled from a fall off his horse. His nose and ear-lobes had to be cut off, too burned to save, and even his eyelids were permanently scarred, unable to sprout new lashes. The more lucid Bennard became, the deeper his sorrow. Eventually he began refusing food. The new lord of Longtable would not eat anything his cooks set in front of him. In spite of his ever present pains, Dorian began going to the kitchens, reprimanding the cooks for their failings. He knew his brother well and knew his palette, and began ordering them to make his brother’s favorites. When he felt they were making mistakes, he interrupted their work himself. He was a stranger to the kitchen, yet would criticize how things were cut too roughly, spiced too little or too much. He was a terror to the cooks, yet they could not refuse him.
His attempts to intervene were however hampered by a newfound aversion to heat. The sound of the hearth, of boiling and searing, the general sense of warmth around him made him nauseous and caused his movements to seize up. Still, he went to his brother’s bedside every day, and afterwards he forced himself back to the kitchens. His sister, Lydia, tried to stop him at first, but soon found her protes fell on deaf ears, and so joined him, if only to leash him in when he went too far. Finally, there was only one dish they hadn’t tried; the dilligrout they’d once served to the late King Mern. Every time it was made, it came out wrong. It soon turned out the cook who had served them that evening six years ago had since retired, and his exact method had never been recorded or taught to anyone else. Dorian would first invite the man to Longtable, then summon him with armed knights when invitations were refused.
Theomar, the man who appeared before him, was a sorry sight, looking frightened and confused as he was taken to his old workplace. It was explained by his sons that he’d been growing senile even six years ago, often snapping at the kitchen maids under him when his memory failed him. Since then he’d gotten worse, seldom eating, let alone cooking. Something in the old man’s eyes did seem to brighten for a moment when the sounds and smells of his old kitchen surrounded him, and Dorian ordered him to make dilligrout. Before long that faint spark had been drowned out by tears. He would start boiling capon or crushing almonds, only to leave the job half-done whenever he had to fetch something new. Serving maids were put at his disposal to bring him ingredients, yet an ingredient ordered would be met with a reprimand as he seemed to forget which dish he was making every few minutes. Finally Dorian snapped at the man, grabbing him by his collar and shouting accusations of treason against House Merryweather. By the time Lydia could restrain him and try to apologize, the man was a wreck on the floor. After watching it for a while, waiting for the man to get up and continue his work, even Dorian was overcome by pity and shame for what he’d done. The old cook was praying to the gods, begging forgiveness for his failings. Dorian began to realize he’d broken a great man down and would himself beg forgiveness. He offered the man his old cook’s quarters back for the rest of his life, and promised his sons that his maester would tend to the man in his old age, that he would be fed from Longtable’s stores.
At this point, he resolved to make the dilligrout himself. Through it all, Bennard was barely clinging to life, or rather being tethered to it by the will of others. He could only be fed when drugged down by the milk of the poppy, and the more often it was used, the less effective it became. Every day Dorian braved the kitchens, yet he could not recreate the flavor of that wonderful night. It was by the grace of the gods, perhaps with Theomar as their vessel, that Dorian would even come close. The old man could no longer cook, but over time he began to wander into the kitchens and sit down on a chair. At first Dorian thought the man only sought the warmth of the hearth for his weary bones, yet he discovered it to be more than that. Theomar’s eyes were like clouded glass, yet they brightened every now and then, hearing almonds being ground, smelling capons searing in fat, as though it was stirring the kitchenmaster of yore back to life. Eventually Dorian began to walk up to the old cook with his ingredients, bidding him to smell or taste small portions. Sometimes he got simple instructions out of it, ‘too coarse’, ‘too sour’, ‘underdone’. Som times a mere nod or frown was all Theomar managed. Over the course of a couple of days, Dorian put together one final attempt to get the dish made rightWhen he arrived in Bennard’s chamber, he was met with a look which brought forth discomfort that no flame could produce in Dorian. Plainly, raspingly, his brother asked him why he wouldn’t let him die. It was easy, Bennard reasoned. All Dorian needed to do was wait and become lord. The words almost made Dorian throw the dilligrout on the floor. Almost. He placed two bowls on Bennard’s table, the dilligrout and one brimming with milk of the poppy. Dorian told his brother to make his choice. If he sought death, Dorian would let him, but he would not hear that it was an easy thing, watching his brother die. That evening, the milk of the poppy was carried away by the maester, the empty bowl of stew taken to be washed in the kitchens. From then on, Bennard ate what his brother brought him without complaint. He lasted just into the new year, dying on its tenth day. In the predawn gloom of the twelfth, Theomar died in his sleep
Dorian took up his lordly task joylessly. His old wanderlust returned, spurred by the horrible memories that now stained Longtable and the reach itself in his mind. The final straw came when their new Tyrell overlords, insisted on him marrying a lady from a dornish house. His previous betrothal had fallen through, as the parents of his western bride had not wished to draw the ire of the Targaryens by maintaining an old alliance meant to oppose them. Instead of obliging, he boarded a ship from Oldtown going east. It stopped only briefly in Planky Town before going to Tyrosh. Noting him to be a nobleman, a few of the city’s wealthy men would host him for a while, though they quickly lost interest when his lack of knowledge of trade became apparent. After that, he spent time in the markets and squares where the common people lived. His old curiosity was piqued, and he decided to embark on a quest of learning, fashioning himself another Lomas Longstrider. He moved on to Myr, and the experience was much the same in broad strokes, a few rich men showed interest and quickly lost it. As he’d visited the dye markets he went to see the city’s famous artisans at work. One thing was notably different, he met a Tyroshi woman with green-dyed hair, going by the name Maryah. She was a trader, and the two had taken the same ship to Myr. She had been to Myr before and showed him many of its secrets. They spent an entire day in one of the vast delicacy markets so she could show him the many tastes of the city. Having no plans in advance, he asked where she was headed next.
Without a second thought he would join her on a journey to Lys. He soon understood it to be a test. It was not long before she teased him, speculating he’d only joined her for a chance to see the famous pleasure houses. Evening after evening they stayed in the city and Maryah would tease and test him over the matter. Finally he told her he’d renounce his betrothal for her, that there was no one else in his eye. She laughed, replying he would not have to. The next morning, Dorian awoke to find that she was already up, the green washed from her black curls. Maryah had in fact been Joanna Dayne, his dornish bride to be, having traveled the same route as him ever since his ship stopped at Planky Town to refill its food and water. She was already quite familiar with the three closest free cities, having served as a dornish envoy on behalf of its spice traders. As they planned their return to Westeros, Joanna asked him what else in the world he wanted to see. Within a few moons of being wed, they left Westeros, not to return for three years.The journey was what his mind needed, away from the Reach, its knights and tapestries, hunts and tourneys. Ultimately, the lords and knights of his homeland, for all their songs and poetry, lived every day in preparation for war, frivolous though the preparations were. Joanna showed him a different world, the remnants of Old Valyria. War was to be sure inescapable. Wherever they went, there were soldiers, tapestries, contests of arms, and yet the cities housed something else as well, a boundless potential for creation, commerce and growth.
Thanks to Joanna Dayne’s knowledge their stays became far better planned, and they could enjoy the hospitality of wealthy locals far longer. She knew how to talk about the spice trade and similar matters, and Dorian began to pick up on it. On their second stay in Myr, he procured a great deal of fine parchment and began taking notes, everything from negotiation tactics and the prices of cloves or red peppers to court customs, as well as more eclectic pieces of knowledge, details of running an eastern estate, descriptions of technological marvels he had never seen in Westeros, and ingredients in the local food. By the time they neared Qarth he had quite the list of recipes, among other things. There he was even able to learn a few all the way from Yi Ti, as some local cooks catered to merchants from the Golden Empire. On their journey home they’d end up taking the opportunity to see the newly made port of King’s Landing. By that time, a third member had joined their journey, their infant daughter Florys. Having left Longtable in the care of his sister and steward for three years, Dorian finally accepted the responsibility of running his ancestral home.
Longtable was considered to rule over some of the best lands in the Reach, ideally situated along the river with abundant soil which could provide two grain harvests in a year. Having seen the estates which supplied the great cities of the east, Dorian was all too aware of its comparative shortcomings. He found that the abundance of the land had a counterproductive effect, breeding complacency and carelessness. From his grandiose tour of the east, he went on a painstaking tour of his own lands, trying to get an overview of everything he ruled over. He paid the citadel a fee to send him half a dozen maesters in training for a season. These young men, literate and numerate, would serve his own maester in conducting a survey of the land, giving Dorian account of all resources at his disposal as lord. The results were quite varied.
Some peasants were found to have remarkable agricultural insights which they had no way of writing down, entirely reliant on passing the knowledge to their children. Knowing the risks of such a method of transferring knowledge, Dorian ordered such insights recorded. In other places there were farmers and communities who were unwittingly exhausting their soil. Instances of lack of fallow land, excessive grazing by cows and lack of crop rotation were also made note of, followed by edicts against such heedless practices. Septons, sheriffs and tax collectors were given written copies and were obliged to read them to the peasantry wherever it was deemed necessary. It also became part of the obligations of farmers to plant a set amount of clover in their fields and pastures, a practice some had taken up on their own but which had already become a standardized law among the estates belonging to Myr and Volantis. Irrigation was expanded and land inheritance was reformed to prevent the splitting of fields past a certain threshold.
Lord Dorian was not always successful. Some eastern ideas had been useful innovations which improved conditions across the board. In time he learned that the peculiarities of the westerosi system were sometimes necessary for the sake of stability, not merely the misshapen fruits of ignorance. His attempt to enclose part of the common lands proved abortive, as it nearly caused a peasant rebellion. A procession of aggrieved smallfolk headed for Longtable had to be dispersed by knights, armed with wooden clubs to prevent needless bloodshed.Two men were hanged and five sent to the wall, but the reform was thereafter abandoned, leading the populace to calm down. Dorian was not much of a military leader and had not wielded weapons since the Field of Fire. He became aware of his need to bolster his forces, a notion reinforced by the establishment of the Black Roses not long after his return, and again with the Kingswood Catastrophe
In the meantime, he and Joanna raised a family together. Three more daughters would be born healthy, with a couple of miscarriages and a stillbirth in between, also a daughter. Their travels did not entirely come to an end. In 13 AC they would tour the northern free cities of Norvos, Qohor, Pentos, Braavos and Lorath, which they had missed on their original journey. The lion’s share of 17 AC was spent on a journey to the Summer Islands. At other times they would make shorter journeys around the Seven Kingdoms, where they felt more secure in bringing their older children along. Whether it was visiting Joanna’s family in Dorne, tourneys and feasts in the Reach and West or even one trip to see the wall, a nameday wish by Florys, they were often on the move. Like most of their peers, they frequented Oldtown and Highgarden
The growing rift between the two queens and their children was a situation Dorian would watch with dread in his heart, remembering keenly how a generation of young men had been brought to the field of fire. To his mind, the Targaryen rule ought not go to waste. Like Valyria of old, it had begun with fire and blood, yet similarly peace and prosperity had followed in its wake. If only the dragons could stand united, perhaps another long peace like the one the Freehold once enjoyed could again be established. If not, another century of blood was upon them. Under Dorian, Longtable became a place where he sought to bring together people from across the kingdoms and forge unity over the dinner table, an attitude which somewhat vexed and confounded his more militaristic daughter and heiress, Lady Florys. Even amid her questioning of the viability of his peaceful ways when surrounded by those who would make war, a terrible sight would steel his resolve, watching the Mander burning green, every bit as terrible as the flames from twenty one years prior. That night he made a simple vow, never again.
The League of the Cornucopia, he would name his little group, a gallery of lords and ladies whose acquaintances he’d made over the years. With these fellow gourmets he would share the culinary knowledge he’d gleaned from his journeys in the east and west. Most unusual for a lord of his rank, Dorian came to spend a great deal of time in his kitchens, testing out recipes himself. On occasion, the dishes he served to his guests for these small, intimate gatherings would be the work of his own hands. The membership did vary from time to time, both based on who could make it and who he sought to bring together. Rather than a fully closed circle, the League is more like a form of feasting, only it’s done for a much smaller crowd, without the public spectacle. Such occasions allowed for more refined foods which did not need to be served to hundreds and kept constantly warm over the course of hours like some common tavern stew. It also opened up an arena of more intimate diplomacy and negotiation for those who sought it, hosted on neutral ground by a lordly mediator, free from prying eyes.
Timeline:
25BC: Dorian is born, second in line to Longtable
24BC: His sister Lydia is born
9BC: House Merryweather hosts House Gardener for a tourney and feast. Dorian and his older brother Bennard serve the dish of honor to King Mern Gardener and his family. During the subsequent tourney, Mern knights both boys, despite their inexperience and lack of victory in the tourney
9BC-2BC: Dorian spends much time travelling the reach, attending events
1BC: Dorian and Bennard fight in the vanguard at the Field of Fire. Both are burned, Bennard far more severely than Dorian. Lord Merryweather is killed. Traumatized by the battle and his new maimed body, Bennard starts refusing food. Dorian desperately tries to re-create the dish they served King Mern eight years ago. The cook who made it has since gone senile, but eventually manages to help Dorian re-create it. He is given a place at court as apology for his mistreatment at Dorian's hands before this occurred.
1AC: Lord Bennard dies at the beginning of the year, leaving Dorian as lord of Longtable. His sister Lydia fulfills her betrothal to House Tarly, becoming lady of Horn Hill. At the prospect of marrying a Dornishwoman on the King's orders, Dorian decides to leave Westeros to put off his marriage. In Myr, he meets a woman calling herself Maryah, claiming to be a Tyroshi merchant. They fall in love and travel to Lys together. There Dorian promises to set aside his betrothal for her, whereupon she reveals herself as Joanna Dayne, his dornish betrothed.
1AC-4AC: Dorian and Joanna wed at Longtable, then depart on a new journey of the east. They reach as far as Qarth before turning back home. In 3AC, on the way back, their first child, Florys, is born while the couple are in Volantis, on the way home. They return via the newly built port of King's Landing.
4AC-8AC: Using knowledge from the east, Lord Dorian embarks on a project of rationalizing the agriculture of Longtable
5AC: Dorian and Joanna have their second child, a girl named Ellyn
8AC: Their third daughter, Desmera, is born
13AC: Dorian and Joanna spend a year travelling the northern free cities
14AC: Their fourth and final daughter, Gwin, is born
17AC: Dorian and Joanna undertake a journey to the Summer Islands with their children
23AC: The aftermath of the battle of Stonebridge brings back memories of the Field of Fire, as the Merryweathers watch burning slag run down the Mander
25AC: The Merryweathers travel to the celebration of the maturity of Aegon's sons
Family Tree:
Arthor Merryweather (father, d.1BC)
Cerelle Merryweather (pending family connection) (mother, d.20AC)
Bennard Merryweather (brother, d.1AC)
Lydia Merryweather (sister, b.24BC)
Glendon Merryweather (uncle, d.1BC)
Myrcella Pommingham (aunt, d.22AC)
Leo Merryweather (cousin, b.13AC)
Joanna Dayne (wife, b.26AC)
Florys Merryweather (daughter, b.3AC)
Ellyn Merryweather (daughter, b.5AC)
Desmera Merryweather (daughter, b.8AC)
Gwin Merryweather (daughter, b.13AC)
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Auxiliary Character:
Name and House: Florys Merryweather
Age: 23
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: [A short, muscular woman with wavy black hair, normally worn in a bun. She has high cheekbones and a proud demeanor. Her rigid strength stands in contrast to the more relaxed nature of the Merryweather court, one she finds overly lax and casual](0_0.png (896×1344) (discordapp.com))
Trait: Hale
Skills: Swords (e), Essosi Blademaster
Talents: Dancing, Fishing, Cooking
Negative Traits: N/A
Starting Title: Heir to Longtable
Starting Location: Opening Event
Timeline:
3AC: Florys is born in Volantis, while her parents are on their way home from Essos
10AC: Florys starts training under Saathos Trevelyan, her father's Master at Arms
13 AC: She joins her parents on a tour of Pentos, Braavos, Norvos and Qohor
17AC: She travels with her parents to the Summer Islands
19AC-23AC: As she comes of age, Florys becomes more critical of her father's desire for peace, viewing it as increasingly far-fetched amid the increasingly controversial regency and the impending succession dispute. She resolves to make the kinds of connections her father seems unwilling to, in case of war
25AC: She accompanies her family to the celebrations
NPCS:
Ser Leo Merryweather (Age: 37, Archetype: Magnate) Lord Merryweather's first cousin, he has become an indispensable agent in the daily running of Longtable. Despite his foppish demeanor and aparent laziness, he is highly capable and loyal in his task of increasing his family's fortune. He remains happily unwed
Saathos Tevelyan: (Age:48, Archetype: Master at Arms) The son of a Lysene father and a Myrish mother, Saathos initially sought a career in amongst Myr's military officers, however his family's relatively low status proved an impediment to further promotion, later compounded by a dispute with a superior. He met Lord Merryweather in 3AC and eventually travelled West to offer his services five years later, finding his career progress stonewalled in his home city. Well into middle age, he still looks firm and imposing as profesisonal a soldier ought to

i like Warhammer 40k, but 40k doesnt afford you the abilty to let you play your own custom character or faction if it isnt up to certain specs in tournaments(lore strict rules). and running an army battle in dungeons and dragons is overly complicated unless you ignore a bunch of rolls and rules.
i propose a blend of both. who's cannon takes place in the cosmos of perspective.
(you make your own faction cannon. )
each unit type has user generated has one data sheet, each named character you have would have their own data sheet.
the models can be 3-D printed or kitbashed, but they must be at 1/36 scale. essentially one infantry= one of those cheap plastic army men standing at 5 cm tall.
from here, this was typed up before today, by a few months. there is no campaign.
but i would imagine a new fandom in table top roleplay would be born regardless
___________________________________________________________________________________________
WELCOME TO BATTLEPOSTINGS T.T.R.P.G.
A tabletop rpg for diy, model painting, kit bashing, 3-DPrinting, and plastic army battling enthusiasts.
all parts of this game are user generated, with the exception of the rules. Though u/Khorde__the__Husk sent this to a bunch of redditors for help in balancing the game and setting up basic play structure.
Things to note:
· You must have one “advisor” per two warlords in the session. Advisors, act as the game master to make sure no one is cheating. If there is confusion on what kind of weapon a unit has in their hands or equipped to their armor, the Advisor has final say. The advisor is supposed to keep the game fair.
· In theory you could have as many players as you want, but no more than four is recommended because turns consist of multiple phases that are meant to organize the battle strategy for each player.
· Players are encouraged to kit bash, 3-D print, or purchase traditional plastic army men. For the sake of scaling, follow the scaling of the image below. But you must have your own general. It is recommended that your general be unique, make it yours. Have fun.
· Players can make their own campaigns and lore. Such attempts are encouraged. For the purposes of release, you can follow the campaign I have written.
· For any session, you will need a handwritten or typed general’s reference stats Dossier, 1D20, tape measure, and an army of which you will fight with. (painted)
· When rolling on a check, higher is always better. 20 is always a success
· Your armies stats are fixed and defined in this document. Your general’s stats are dictated by the roll of a 1d20. These stats are:
o morale
o Movement speed
o Accuracy
o Health points
o Punch
· Turns are split into phases.
o bombardment
o Movement
o Attack/counter attack
· The different types of units are:
o Infantry
o Armor
o Airborne
o B.A.M.(BIG ASS MACHINES)

· We play at a 1/36 scale. All models are at that scale.

• TERRAIN AND COVER

make your own terrain and cover. kitbashing, 3-D printing encouraged. terrain is the battleground, the floor the pieces and obstacles stand on. obsticles can be anything. debris, nature, etc. obstacles are cover. if an attacking piece can see the defending piece in its entirety, the defending piece is in the open. if the defending piece is partially seen by the attacking
· Ability checks logic below:
20=crit hit/sucsess
1=jam(gun)/woopsie(melee)/crit fail
To succeed , a unit must roll their combined ability score. This is their base ability +general ability. Debuffs such as kickback only are applied to whatever you rolled when you roll for an ability check.
Regardless, the fundamental rules of this game will apply to your creations. these are an assortment of rules designed to keep the game fair and guard against unfair players(referred to as God-Emperors or God-empresses) and hopefully combat power creep.
Now lets expand upon these ideas so you can have fun kit-bashing and army smashing quicker.
GENERAL’S (named character) STAT DOSSIER
Your army’s stats are based on your general’s stat Dossier. The leader of a nation is oft a good indication of how high of a quality their army’s going to be.
The first thing you should write is your general’s name, then write their bio. Their bio includes their background, their homeland, what politics are involved (if any). It is not recommended that you write a novel, you have a game to play. What are the weapons that your general will have on their person? What are their character traits? How will those traits affect how the game is played?
The next thing to do is to make a picture of your General that resembles the piece you kit-bashed for your general to be. It can be menacing, wholesome, serious or whacky. As long as the design choices resemble what your army has for their design and your general’s character traits. It doesn’t have to be hand drawn. A photo of your piece will suffice. no general may have a skill number higher than 16.
ARMY STAT DOSSIER:
what good is a king without a kingdom?
terrible.
each type of unit gets one ARMY STAT DOSSIER. you can have as many scout infantry you want, but you need a dossier on how they are deployed, what weapons they use, and most importantly, THEIR STATS. make sure your unit type description is comprehensive including what styles of combat they are trained for. this could influence your decisions on how you play. give them lore for shits and giggles. no unit may have a skill number higher than 15.
WEAPON STAT DOSSIER
this is the list of weapon types and their ability modifiers.
when attacking bare handed, you go by your unmodified stats.
STATS EXPLAINED AND BORING SHIT
Now comes the part with the dice. You only need 1d20. This is to reduce the confusion.
· Morale
Rolled by 1d20, checked by 1d20 per unit.
Morale is basically moral law. How far will your troops go to follow your orders? If your morale over a given unit is 1, the unit in question is shell shocked for one whole turn, to be marked with a yellow slip. If your unit is shell shocked, it is traumatized to where it cant follow any orders on the next turn. If for some reason the morale hits 0, that unit defects and must be marked with a red token. Units that defect are now under control of your enemy. If defected units hit 0 authority again, it simply dies. Suicide. Cowards way out.
The Morale that your general has over friendly units is base unit morale +the general’s modifier. Your general’s base Morale is the number you rolled the 1d20 for. If for any reason your general’s morale score goes below 0, the general must rally all nearby troops (within 30cm) to protect the general for one turn on the next turn. If your general’s morale hits zero, you get shell shocked, and your general cannot take action for one turn and if your general was within line of sight of any other allied unit, the observing unit cannot take action either.
· Movement Speed
Rolled by 1d20, measured by cm on a measuring tape or meter stick because inches suck.
Movement speed is how much ground a given unit can cover. Unless your object has a punch score higher than the hp of an obstacle, or can fly, you will have to go around the obstacle. There are exceptions. If the obstacle is below the knee of an infantry unit, the infantry or whatever can climb over at the cost of the individual unit climbing modifier.
The base movement speed of your general influences the movement speed of your troops. To find a troops total movement speed:
Your unit’s base movement speed + your general’s base movement speed = total troop movement speed. See army stat dossier or named character stat dossier.

· Accuracy
Rolled by a 1d20, checked by 1d20 per unit
Accuracy must be rolled every time a unit attacks an enemy unit.
Accuracy is basically the chance of your selected troop hitting their targets. Different weapons and vehicles have different accuracy modifiers(aka kickback or x-range), and different types of troops have different base accuracies. Accuracy can affect enemy/friendly Health points or morale. If a shot hits near enough to a troop, or makes a kill close enough to another troop, the troops affected must undergo a morale check with the exception to nearby friendlies of any troop who gets an enemy kill.
Explosives and artillery have an area of effect. any troop within the inner blast radius (with the exception of troops behind sufficient cover) is dead. Any in sufficient cover, or within the outer blast radius must make a morale check. Sufficient cover is a piece of the environment which has an assigned hp that is higher than the punch of an explosion.

Small arms fire requires line of sight for targeting. The path of bullets is a straight line, keep this in mind when deciding collateral damage. Friendly fire is a thing and it is a war-crime. If you want to play nightmare mode, your general gets summoned to a military court tribunal and executed if three friendly troops or more die as a result of friendly fire that occurred by your command.

Melee combat can only be conducted during movement phases. If its melee vs gun there is the variable of line of sight. If the melee unit is within line of sight, the gun unit has advantage. If the melee unit is outside of line of sight of the gun unit, the melee unit has advantage.
To find your troop’s accuracy:
general’s base accuracy+ troop base accuracy- kickback. The higher the accuracy the better.

· Punch
Punch is how much damage a unit causes to another unit or object should they pass their accuracy check. Different weapons pack a different punch. Remember to add their bonus to the punch check roll.
When attacking an obstacle or object, units must roll against the hp of the object. If the roll lands on a number that meets or beats the hp, the object or obstacle is destroyed.(marked with red sticky note and can be traversed as if the object was destroyed. Bullets pass thru within reasonable trajectories, no ricochet)
When attacking units, whatever is rolled is subtracted from the victim’s hp. The victim can only move at half of their normal movement speed afterward.(treaded, wheeled, and airborne vehicles excluded from the debuff even if they are hit. They are treated as obstacles with the addition of the passed accuracy check requirement.)
· Health points(hp)
Health points are what determines how close your units or general is to kicking the bucket. In any game mode, If your general kicks the bucket, you lose. If you have no units other than your general, you lose and your general must go into hiding. each unit and general may have no more than 10hp. powercreep is bad
UNIT CLASSES
Unit Classes are determined by how big the individual unit is, and how it traverses the battlefield. The smallest and most common all the way to the biggest and most intimidating of units are all fit into several categories by what they look like. To solve disagreements on what class your unit is, the advisor has final say. Disagreements should be easy to avoid if you design your units properly. It would be useful to stick to a theme. Candy punk, steampunk, horror, medieval, sci-fi, and historical designs are all fine, you could even come up with your own. A theme will be better for discerning friendlies from you enemies. At the same time, make your units discernable enough that players and especially advisors can easily determine what classes your units are.
· Your general/warlord, whatchacallit
Your general is the most valuable unit because it is what you have to control your forces. Without a wise and strategic leader, your forces will fall into disarray and you will lose the war. You can only have one general, and you made it yours. Kitbashing and 3D printing would likely be your most common means of gaining a general. They must take resemblance of the general on your general stat dossier they can swim in water terrain for two turns before they drown.
· Infantry
The easiest to acquire and kit bash. This allows for vast hordes of infantry, or small fireteams, or something in between. Find your play style. Your infantry should be as tall as the plastic green army men in the image below. These men and women are the bravest of them all.
they can swim in water terrain for two turns before they drown.
· Armor
Mainly made up of vehicles and smaller mechanical suits, must be land based. Expect tanks, jeeps ,Humvees, calvary mounted animals etc. here is an image I ripped for scale as to the largest example of armor you can have. Not my drawing. Its basically the largest tank ever built replace the man in the image with one infantry and you have your scale. Or 0.283333333 m* 0.283333333 m *0.5m
these machines will break down in water terrain.
· Airborne
Airborne units can only fly. They can drop bombs, airdrop armotroops, and attack up to one target per gun that the aircraft is equipped with(within range) as they move. Their biggest weakness is anti-aircraft weaponry and enemy aircraft weapons. How big can an aircraft be?
2.44 meters. X 2.44 meters by 0.60 meters is your maximum for all airborne units.
any airborne that fly like a plane have a +4 to their movement stat but can only bomb ground units 15 cm in front and attack any unit that is in front of it
anything that flies like a helicopter does not have this buff or debuff, they can shoot at any target, but can only use missiles for up to 15 cm on ground units.
NAVAL VEHICLES
Naval vehicles can be big or small, but they can only operate in the designated water terrain area. they can carry troops, they can fire artillery, depth charges, missiles, torpedoes, and submarines can hide below water for three turns before air runs out. but they can be spotted by sonar. if a submerged vessel is within 10 cm of an enemy surface or submarine vessel, the enemy vessel can act as if they know where the submerged vessel is even if the submerged vessel is still submerged.
· B.A.M. ‘s
Big Ass Machines are basically giant robots and massive land ships. These can be Game breaking depending on how you build them and how big you build them. They can fire upon one target per weapon. how big Can these be? They cannot be more than 1.5 meters tall or take up a ground area larger than 4 meters. Players are not allowed to use functioning motor vehicles including, but not limited to cars, trucks, busses, etc. rule of thumb, if you can ride it, you can’t play it. It might as well be just fan art. The maximum distance these can move at any time is 2000cm. to move these, they must make a special movement check. War machines of that size can get stuck easily, so subtract your general’s movement speed from your final roll on each check. If they are larger than the specified limits, you’ve built a giant immobilized obstacle for one turn.
Mobile terrain essentially is a whole battlefield or obstacle of its own. The biggest difference is that anything other than B.A.M. compatible units that are attached to the B.A.M'S can’t be removed from the B.A.M.'S. Artillery such as main guns can’t move, only rotate. same with S.A.M.S. , C.R.A.M.S., and anti aircraft weaponry.

EQUIPMENT AND ARMAMENT
Guns and RE’S(ranged explosives)Require a reload period(one full turn) every so often. Dual wield is an ability that is only applicable to infantry equipment . dual wield only applies when two identical weapons are in both hands of a single unit. Range is how far a weapon can fire before a debuff is added to your accuracy roll. For every 10 cm beyond the stated range, an x-range debuff of -1 is added.
Overheat can only occur on weapons that are labeled with overheat. Every time a gun with overheat is about to fire , a coin must be tossed. If the coin lands on heads, the gun overheats. Overheating will cause the unit to explode. The explosion will deal 1d20 damage to anyone/anything within a 6 cm radius. You only need to roll once.
Cone is a special debuff. Weapons with cone Can only fire at sequential targets within 25 degrees of original target.
im having trouble with deciding the individual weapon stats. so ive decided that i am going to leave those up to you. (the moment i hear people are getting into fights IRL, i will be putting in an elaboration which will settle all disputes regarding equipment and artillery... and i wont be happy about it.)
players are encouraged to record their battles in battle reports and post it online in their relevant subreddits. if they win/lose, then the player is encouraged to come up with a lore reason for any change in tactics, named characters(generals), or stats.
an army is considered overpowered if they can take out all opponents in as little as 10 turns. they must be nerfed if this happens. dont forget to add a lore reason for this occurrence in the battle report.
unlike overpowered, underpowered armies can be taken out in 10 turns. they must be buffed if this happens. dont forget to add a lore reason for this occurrence in the battle report.
this is sci-fantasy/high fantasy, battles are supposed to be epic and economically exaggerated.
write the name of the weapon, the type of weapon.(melee or gun) and its accuracy and punch modifiers.(bare hands is melee and equal to. magic is gun)
spells must be vetted in good faith by advisors prior to the game to prevent game breakage. spells may not kill units or generals in one blow. spells effects can only last one turn unless its a healing spell. healing spells cannot heal more than 5 health points at a time per unit. write out the spells you have for your units and have them vetted by an advisor, advisor will determine gamebreakability of the spell. if spell is determined to be game breaking, mid game, the advisor will have the offending spell removed and the turn undone. at wich point the offending player effectively must alter their strategy in the spirit of good sportsmanship.) There are three approved arcane focuses, wands, staves, and hand casting, (one must not make them look like the caster is going to punch something, have them hold an orb or something.)
(the moment i hear that people get into IRL fights over spells, i will make a list of approved spells and a LONG LIST of forbidden spells. and no one will be happy. )
THE MOST IMPORTANT RULE
Dont be a dick, be a good sport, and have fun.breaking thegame intentionally is a dick move. advisors are encouraged to post their reports of game breaking spells so it may help me in the event Khorde__the__Husk has to revise the rules.

Kia ora everyone, Mum from outside NZ struggling a bit for funds here (despite gainfully employed as a teacher, no surprise), and wondering where I can look for the best selection/quantity/quality of kid’s clothing to outfit my little ones for winter? I am finding shops a bit bare where I am (West Auckland) and can’t bear to buy cheap new items that shrink after one use. Because I’m not from here I may just be unaware of where to look, if that makes sense.
Where I can look for a better source of pre-loved kids things for aged 4 and 7 year old girls? I also have an advocate through a women’s charity due to being a victim of family violence, would my social worker be likely to help me if I ask? I feel so ashamed that we’re struggling this much. Just want to keep my bubbas warm. Thank you so much for any ideas of where to shop used clothing, and so sorry to be in this position!

Already this year, there have been multiple public cases of misogyny, sexism, and discrimination towards female wrestlers. Primarily from wrestling fans.
Within the wrestling fanbase there is deep-rooted misogyny that in a large part was instilled by wrestling companies themselves. Primarily WWE as the market leader from the late 1990s to the early 2000s. There were issues with misogyny and sexism before, but during the Attitude Era, the women, termed "Divas" were presented in a way that exaggerated social stereotypes and ideas about what women "should" be (based on male fantasy).
In this historical re-evaluation, I breakdown the how two eras of WWE, The Attitude Era and the Ruthless Aggression Era, dehumanised the Divas division.
Divas and Discrimination (lastwordonsports.com)

I don’t even know where to begin. 26F. I have had a lot go on in my life (not to short anyone else, because life is screwed). I’m just going to tell my story because I don’t know what else to do. As I’m telling this story please keep in mind, I don’t have all of the information and I’ve been kind of surviving up until this point. When I was 3-8 months old my father packed me and the dog up, and left my mother without telling her while she was at work back in 1997(Florida to Pennsylvania). having no idea because I was an infant, going in to toddler my dad loved the crap out of me. I felt safe, and cared for. My dad ended up sending me to a catholic school for 1st- 5th. started growing and realized that I have a difficultly keeping concentrated, was way friendler than everyone. @ 9 years old he had me speak to my mother for the first time and all she said was mean shit about him and I cried and hung up.
I had noticed my dad started to grow aggravated with me, and would say some down right mean shit. Not let me have my own personality, Embarrassed me by writing mean shit about what I did wrong on sticky notes and would tell me to keep in on my shirt all day at school. Back me into corners like he was a big bully if I didn’t do things right/his way. He through a birthday party for me when I was 11 and then was like “look at how nobody showed up” when he was most likely the reason they didn’t. Before sixth grade started, he moved us back down to Florida. So from catholic school to public. I noticed bigger changes in him and it was a complete 180 for me, going from a religious school to a public. It was like there was no longer the happiness in him and he would pick on me and bully me, when I started going to public schools I was bullied as well there. I would come home from school crying and he stated “I’ll give you a reason to cry”. Would be very physically abusive. Would even threaten to send me to my mothers which I was scared of because of the mean shit she said when I was 9. He sent me to another girls mom to learn about “women things”- literally just how to shave my f**** legs. I eventually went to the schools therapist in 6th grade and tried to tell them what was going on without getting my dad in trouble or him hearing about it and doing something worse, that didn’t happen. I guess I blacked out most of my memory’s about things because of the way I needed to cope but I remember writing him letters and begging him to talk to me because he started just not speaking to me at all, would leave me at home while he worked and told me to lock the doors and hide. I eventually tried to disconnect from it all in my head to go with the motions. Eventually before 8th grade started we moved up to Maryland and moved in with my cousins because he had claimed he lost a lot of money in Florida( in recent years he told me the school was trying to get him charged for the things I said back then to the therapist.) we became more distant because he wasn’t very friendly and would hide in the basement. Moved into my god parents house because eventually he had enough issues with my cousins he didn’t want to be “there problem” anymore. We became more distant as he would just hide in there basement as well, I’d go down there just to talk with him and he’d just be this mean person I didn’t know anymore. Still being a very emotionally abusive person. I got arrested 3 months before graduation because I had weed and cigarettes at school.
When I was 18 I moved into my 2nd boyfriend’s house. Not a good idea looking back at it because it was totally a trap house and I had no clue what I was doing there.(drugs) that’s what I was doing. He had no clue & didn’t care to notice. A lot of co-dependence was there because I stayed there for 4 years.
In 2018 (I was 18 at this point) he was going delirious for about 4-5days and would tell me stuff like take my stuff, I’m going to die ect. Wouldn’t let me take him to the hospital, just wanted to die, thank god my god mother was there when he collapsed and had a ambulance come and get him, he went into a diabetic coma it lasted for 1.5 months or so, he came out of it and basically told me he should’ve died and that he wanted to.
That made things worse mentally for me, I did a lot of fucked up things in the 4 years I was with the boy I was doing drugs with, he also was very physically abusing, as so was I at this point. We broke up and I did everything I could not to go back to living with my father who ended up with enough money to buy a place in my name. I ended up living there for a while and nothing good came from it.
A lot of drinking and boyfriends and dumb shit happened and I was completely out of it until I got a DWI in late 2019. Really woke me up. I started wanting better for myself, knowing I could just didn’t know how. I got into YET ANOTHER RELATIONSHIP, and thought it was good for me, two years in we decided we were going to buy a home (23 years old at this point) we bought it and a lot was wrong with the house and clearly the boy I bought it with because he was into a really odd kink, had girls in his phone, and would not introduce me to his female friends. On top of that he did not doing ANYTHING to help me fix the home. A year into owning the home I broke up with him and lost my job. I was depressed for 7-8 months, got another job and about 1.5 years after the break up someone came up to me and asked me on a date. (I still lived with my ex in the house we own). (I was completely honest with him and up front about everything.)
He has shown me grace, kindness, and compassion. He had shown me a whole new perspective in life. He also had gone through a really traumatic past. Starting of the relationship was rough, I was feral and he gets defensive really easy. We have stuck this thing out and I am 7 months in therapy and he just had his first session in years today. I would like to consider this success. I just changed therapist because the one I had been going to wasn’t as good as I would’ve liked them to be. We are now 1.5 years in, and I’m still trying to figure myself out and currently won’t hear from the new therapist until the 21st of may. I’m struggling mentally but not half as bad as I used to. I guess I’m just looking for new perspectives and some positive words at this point. My boyfriend and I are on opposite schedules for the next 2.5 months and I can tell I’m still very co-dependent, in my head I’m hoping his new therapist doesn’t tell him we are not right for each other. I’m so full of stress and trauma it’s crazy. I don’t even know who I am or if I fully feel happy in any situation.
Any kind words would help. Sorry for the all over the place read.

Would a man’s lack of experience and ability to take lead/initiative because of politeness be a dealbreaker or is it a respectful thing he has that haya and akhlaq for being afraid to overstep?
Examples would be in situations where you’d expect and want a man to take initiative you find himself maybe stopping himself or limiting himself because of the idea of politeness and shyness since there’s no officialness?
Also if you consider yourself to be a women who isn’t always in her feminine state due to her upbringing and experiences in life, is it important to seek someone whose way more masculine to keep you feeling in your feminine state or could a man who isn’t super masculine provide that same feeling?

The AWU is such an amazing daily. It’s weird not having it when swapping out for a mechanical watch. I’m interested in knowing the community’s thoughts on if you wear this with a suit or on a date? I’ve read articles that say it’s a terrible idea with a suit and women would judge you harshly. How would you or how do you handle this?