https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gaXFCulo3qs

Hi, everyone. I apologize for being MIA for a week, but this was my first Mother's Day without my ace boon coon, ride or die, best friend, & mom. I cannot begin to tell you the hell I put her through in my earlier years. She loved me through everyone of those moments. I danced ballet over 20 years ago. When she passed I started working out to cope and it has turned into a passion to help women AND men like me, who know being over 40, only means how we approach fitness changes. We can still get those kick ass baddie bodies. I am not bragging, but I am almost 50 (who said that) lol and I look better than lots of 30 year olds. Why? Because I consistently workout on everything, not just to get a big but. All of my routines and exercises are researched to ensure there is science behind it, because I have seen many "fitness experts" who seem to not understand gravity. I am not gonna waste my or your time with Fru Fru exercises that give you a false sense that you actually worked out, but actually put in the work. If you need 1 one one fitness help, you are welcome to email me. We will work out something where we meet IN PERSON, but you have to live in the Rock Hill, Lancaster, or Chester areas of South Carolina. How much? $0. Money is not the point. We have to be willing to help those who cannot afford (me) to run around and paying $30 for a 30 minute class. This is a true offer. Now if you are someone with means, a donation to help me help others would be appreciated, but only at the time we get together.
u/BodyBaddieFitnessOver40
[Jenniferjennyconn2014@gmail.com](mailto:Jenniferjennyconn2014@gmail.com)

I'm sure many of you have come across "trad-wife" content at some point or another online. I've been fed this content more and more lately, which had me thinking about what this "trend" means for mothers and families, and what impact it has overall for the mothers who are still "in the trenches" today. Whether it's a trend you participate in, or one you roll your eyes at, I think for the most part, it garners an emotional response from women, especially mothers, in either a positive or negative light. I also want to make it clear that "trad-wives" and SAHM are NOT the same thing at all, and should not ever be used interchangeably. These are two completely different things. A SAHM is still a working independent woman whos job inside of the home to be viewed equally as important as any work outside of the home.
I fall under the category of someone who is triggered by "trad-wife" content and generally have a pretty negative, critical response every time I run into it. But today, as I came across a video of yet another "trad-wife" influencer, who was defending her lifestyle, and call to "traditional" ways, I decided to stop and actually take a minute and be honest with what emotion I was really feeling when I come across this content. It isn't actually rage, disappointment or fear, like I tell myself it is. It's jealousy.
The truth is, my first reaction is jealousy and a sense of inadequacy that feeds off of my deepest insecurities as a mother. Jealousy for the mothers that can stay at home all day with their children, who can clean, bake, garden and cook with their little ones at their side. And as someone who is a working mum, but not by choice, I feel jealous of the extra time these women can spend with their children during these short pre-school years. I feel inadequate because I secretly fear I am failing as a mother by choosing a double income, over the financial insecurity of a one-income household. Inadequate because my house is a mess and I'm burned out from work from a job I hate by the time I get home, that I worry my children aren't getting the best version of me.
After the initial emotional response of jealousy, my logical brain kicks in and reminds myself that this lifestyle they are showcasing isn't reality. Most SAHM's aren't baking sourdough on homesteads all day. They aren't showing the 3AM wakeups or the teething drama. This isn't an accurate representation of motherhood for 95% of us. This leads me to my next emotional response, which is to then to substitute jealousy for criticism. I begin to list all the ways their lifestyle is flawed, naive and unsustainable to give myself some false sense of superiority to these women who are essentially just cosplaying.
I'm sure this reaction isn't uncommon. I feel it's a natural response for people to substitute the emotion of jealousy with criticism to justify their own lifestyles and choices that feel attacked. You could argue that the "trad-wife" movement is just that--a way for some SAHM's who may feel the need to justify their lifestyle and choices of not be in the work force, when surrounded by a world that places outside work in higher esteem than domestic work.
However, I would like to clarify that just because I feel jealous when watching this content, doesn't mean I wish I was a "trad-wife". I find the entire concept to be just as toxic as the "hustle"/"girl boss" culture they are fighting against. Not to mention, a completely misinformed and myopic view of what a "traditional" wife or family looked/looks like throughout the world. The "traditional" wife they are cosplaying as is just ONE example of a historic "traditional" family and a woman/mothers role within one. Yes, women have always been charged with domestic duties and childrearing. The home has always been where women have traditionally been taught to focus on, however, women have also ALWAYS worked outside of the home too—either on farms, factories or kitchens (etc). And women have ALWAYS outsourced childrearing to either a nanny or governess (if wealthy) or they had their eldest kids stay home and look after the younger ones. Working mothers, and hired childcare are not new concepts to the female history.
But, I do see how this trend came about. It’s an allergic reaction to the extreme push for women to get out of the homes and into the workforce. To climb the corporate ladder while breastfeeding. To pity the girl with the college degree and spit up stains on her shirt at home with unused potential. To take “equal rights” so literally we act like a man’s life or parental journey is identical to our own. Ignoring our monthly hormonal fluctuations and pretend we're fine to sit through that 2 hour meeting while popping Midol. That we add more value to society as another cog in a machine sitting in a cubicle, then managing your home and family, because that's just "sitting at home" all day, right? And maternity leave is really such an inconvenience…
Looking at both extremes, I found it funny how both sides share the same core issues/beliefs which do nothing but hold mothers, and families on both ends of the spectrum back. This is what I found were the major issues in the perception of motherhood at both extremes, when I took a step back and away from my own biases as a working mother.

1. We need to recognise that both lifestyles come with the enormous privilege many women don't have-- The ability to live off of one income is a privilege just like having enough money for childcare or family support is a privilege. For many, our family set up wasn’t a choice, it’s a necessity. The reasons to be or not to be a SAHM are not always a choice or preference. A lot of times these are hard decisions that include major sacrifices. Before you judge either lifestyle, acknowledge the privilege you might have in the CHOICE to follow either life path. A woman who HAS to work to keep her family fed, even if all she could afford were Poptarts for breakfast, is just as good of a mum as the one who made fresh sourdough that morning. The mum who has to go back to school shopping at the second hand store, and mend hand me downs to dress her kids on one income is just as good of a mum as the corporate baddie who bought her kids the trendy shoes their kid asked for. Both kids are fed, both kids are dressed, both kids are loved.
2. No matter what they say, we all love our kids, and how they turnout does NOT come down to your choice to work in or outside the home -- At the end of the day, I don’t think kids of working mums turn out much differently than kids of SAHM. I think we all know personal examples of rotten kids or adults with both types of mothers. Neither dictates your relationship with your child. As kids get older, they naturally drift away from us. The truth is we may mess up in ways we didn’t even consider. Our kids may always blame us for being overbearing by not having a life outside of the home. Or resent us for never being around because of work. Bad/toxic mothers can be found both in the home or the work force. Just think back to how the adults in our lives talk about their mothers--sometimes it was "mum had 6 kids at home, but she somehow managed to keep us all fed and cared for", or "mum had to work a full day cleaning houses, but she'd always make sure we read a book together after work". All mothers make sacrifices, no matter what type of sacrifice it is. Our kids aren't going to love or resent us for our choices to work or stay at home, but how we show up for them. Don't underestimate our children's ability to recognise our sacrifices on either end.
3. Full time domestic work and homemaking is a real full time job that hold just as much value as working outside of the home and should be treated and respected as such.-- Childcare is a full time job. Full time nanny's and daycares prove that. Homemaking is a full time job. We hire cleaners, interior designers and household staffs that prove it. Cooking, is a full time job. We hire chefs and nutritionists that prove it. So, when a woman is a SAHM does one (or more likely) all of the above jobs for her family, it’s given lesser value or consideration than someone who works outside the home? You hear “I like to get dinner ready and the house clean for my husband who worked all day he deserves to relax when he gets home”, as if you sat around watching tv all day? Just because you enjoy it, or it’s for your own benefit doesn’t make it any less of a real fulltime job. You deserve sick days and breaks throughout the day like any corporate job would...except you never actually get them. The person bringing in a paycheck doesn’t contribute a greater value to your family than you. And same goes for working mums—you already have one full time job, don’t discredit the work left at home as just “chores” that you additionally take on as “lesser value” expected tasks. If two people work outside of the home then two people need to be responsible for domestic work. These are full time jobs. Spouses cutting the grass and taking out the trash is not equivalent to cooking, childcare and cleaning. We need to stop ignoring the home in the overall picture of a healthy family life. We all need a safe place to live that is clean, we all need to eat nutritious food, and our children NEED someone to look after them. These things have a real invaluable place in society. As a working mum, I'm finding more and more how hard it is to bridge that gap, to manage two workplaces essentially, the home AND the outside work. All attention and focus goes to work outside of the home, but the home life doesn't just sustain itself. We are neglecting the importance of our domestic life in favour of the outside working life. This goes for both working mums and SAHM's. We need to stop ignoring that piece of the puzzle if we want to create the complete picture. As it stands now, most working mums cannot afford help in the home which is effecting our mental and physical health--SAHM's don't get any sort of financial nest eggs or assistance at basically working for free, which makes them more vulnerable to abuse.
4. Men need to be included in the domestic work in a way that sets them up for success. You are doing your family or spouse more harm than good by taking it all on yourself. -- By not giving dads a real opportunity to be involved in domestic duties you are depriving them and the children the full depth of a parent child bond and perpetuating that domestic life isn’t as valuable as outside work, or that domestic work is strictly a "woman's" domain. If you are a SAHM, and your job is to care for the house and kids, you just worked a full 8 hour day, just like your spouse. Because you stayed at home all day, most likely the basic chores have been done (though, kids are wild and even things like unloading a dishwasher can't be tackled), and maybe dinner is cooking. That alone is taking so much off of your spouses plate. Every family situation is different, every work situation is different, however, both you and your spouse are entitled to decompress a little after a full day. Dads need to be incorporated into the childcare aspect at the very least when they come home. Maybe since you spent all day with the kids, your husband gives them a bath and puts them to bed. Or, if you are a dual income house, maybe you split the bedtime duties, giving you the chance to spend SOME time with your children, after being gone all day--and just "play time" alone isn't enough or fair. I think a big way we fall down in including men into the domestic responsibilities, is for the same reason working mothers are struggling. The workforce was never set up with women or mothers in mind, and homemaking was never set up with men in mind. Now, some people will use this as an excuse to perpetuate that it shows that "a woman's place is at home", but studies have shown that over and over again, that fathers who are more involved at home make happier, more successful children. Children gain an enormous value from having fathers be just as involved in their upbringing as the mothers. And, I argue that men also gain just as much value from this. My husband is an equal partner in childrearing, and I'm in awe to see how much he has completely flourished and grown in this role. The truth is, most of us don't find fulfillment in our jobs. It's a paycheck. But a lot of us do find fulfillment in parenting. But to my point, we aren't setting men up to be successful in these roles, because men don't always think or approach things the same way as women. How many times have we had arguments with our partners because they ignored a mess, or didn't clean/do something properly, or we had to "nag" them to follow up on a chore...I know I have. But then I decided to take a step back and change my perspective on the home and family, and look at it as almost a military or corporate environment. Women don't thrive on deadlines and assigned tasks. We are better able to multitask, switch gears. To be too hyperfocused on one thing doesn't work so well when you have so many jobs to tackle at once. But men seem to work better with structure and direction. I feel like women see the big picture, and can zoom in from there, but men need to break things into smaller tasks before they can see the bigger picture. When a man retorts with "I'm not a mind reader", they are being just as dismissive to your needs and views as you would be by saying "you should just know". The truth is we are different. We were raised different, our brains function differently...but, I've found my partner excels in the household if he is given clear directions and expectations within the household. If instead of viewing it as two separate worlds, work and home, I approach it as equal sectors of one unit. Like how accounting is just as valuable to a corporation as their sales team. We are all operating for one goal, and one greater good. If your partner works outside the home, and you stay at home, then you need to view yourself as the manager of the home and delegate accordingly. How can you help your partner in their work day, and how can they help you in yours? You are on the same team. If you both work outside of the home, then you both need to take equal responsibility for the domestic work. You are both managers of the home, how can you support each other? What does one person do better than the other? Being passive aggressive because your spouse doesn't naturally see what needs to be done like you do, doesn't help anyone. Your spouse becomes defensive, and never learns, and feels out of place in home where you have inserted yourself as manager instead of an equal partner.
5. Other people’s choices don’t discredit yours no matter what they say. -- Everything seems to be a targeted attack these days. People can’t seem to live in a way that makes them happy without you feeling threatened by it. If a woman is happiest at home catering to their husbands whims, that has no effect on your choice to be a stay at home dad. One is not a threat to the other unless you begin to feel superior to another. That the way you choose to live your life is so superior you want to control the narrative and influence personal choices of others in your life by attacking someone else to lift yourself up. I can’t help but ask myself who is benefiting from staging us against each others? Definitely not the mothers. Lumping one group as “those people” keep us divided. Each side more extreme in their POV echoed by peers and targeted social media. We have been fed that it's an "us" versus "them" issue. That one side is pushing us back into the stone age, and undoing all the progress we have made in the feminist movement. The other side feels attacked for finding joy and value in living a life at home and as a mother, that society has stopped valuing their contribution...really, society as a whole hasn't changed much in the past 40 years. The workforce has more working mothers than ever before, but work culture and regulations have not changed to accommodate that. We have to change to accommodate them. SAHM's have always existed, but we have not elevated their status to show the equal contribution they have in our society. In the end, society is still just exploiting women. A capitalistic profit driven society benefits more from more people in the workforce. I think we are all angry at the same thing, a lack of choice and a lack of respect. Women fought hard to enter the workforce and gain independence and equal rights so that we could have the CHOICE of what our life would look like. But are choices are still being under attack. Being a SAHM or a working mum is no longer a choice for a lot of us. We are being goaded into believing one is more valuable than the other, and that's just not true. If you find peace and fulfillment at home, that doesn't make you any less educated or independent of a woman. And if you love your career and thrive in your work, that doesn't make you any less feminine (because apparently we can't be feminine and work anymore according to some...) or as good of a mother. We are humans and multifaceted and cannot and should not be defined by one singular role.

This ended up being some sort of weird feminist manifesto, which isn't want I intended, but I guess I had a lot to say on the subject. I suppose I'm just scared at how well social media has gotten at dividing us. Social media isn't inherently good or bad, it's a tool for connection, but now even mothers are being pitted against each other. We all know it takes a village to raise a family, but we've pitted the village against each other. We are too busy claiming we are "under attack" from our peers, when we're just puppets--they want us to feel "triggered", and I'm glad. Because now I'm triggered, but it's not at the "trad wife" who is harkening back to a world that never existed, but at the people who are instigating this. Who are filling women's heads with this nonsense, and trying to box up our "values" or what "femininity" means...what it means to be a woman and mother. Because being a woman and mother has meant a lot of different things throughout history. We control our own narratives. We need to stop insinuating that our way is the "right" way, or that society is faltering because women are no longer "feminine" or because women want to go back to staying at home. All of this is "right", all of this is "feminine". Being a woman can mean whatever you want it to mean, and being a mother just means loving your kids and doing your best everyday.
***NOTES: I know this was a very hetero/cis centric post that focused a lot of perceived gender norms that excludes the same-sex or trans families...even single mothers. It was written as a reaction to a "trad wife" trend that is extremely hetero/cis centric, so my reaction to it is from this perspective as a hetero/cis mother. However, I know these values and views totally effect all families no matter what they look like. So, I just wanted to put it out there that I see you, and would love to hear your voice on this as well.
Also, a lot of sweeping generalities in here as well. These are broad sweeping statements and generalisations based on societies general assumptions about genders and family life. Right, wrong or myopic, it's what we live in. My point in all this IS that every family and every person is unique, and that we can't keep functioning under the assumption that there is only one way or one family dynamic out there.

This is for some reason so specific to Helldivers content. Every time I see a YT vid recommended that has an ai image as the thumbnail, showing some random bs that isn't in the game like an armor or weapon, I click the three ellipses and press "Don't Recommend this Channel" because they were so lazy and annoying to see. Okay not just that. I normally give people a watch and it's basically always low effort content as well, surprise surprise. But the thumbnails! I get it, less effort to screencap an image (as long as that even takes, c'mon) and the intrigue of the weird picture from people who don't really know about bad ai practices or just don't really care about it DOES likely lead to more clicks. But having an actual image of the weapon, enemy or your own helldiver is so much better!
Then one channel I liked watching videos from started doing it as well and I stopped watching. I kinda felt bad at first, thinking it was a little unfair of me. Like, is this the beginning of the same situation as content creators making videos with clickbait-y titles and thumbnails, but at this point it's just a really well-known and self-aware kind of "meta" that people just have fun with and overexaggerate on purpose, plus benefitting from more views? Like yes that's lazier than coming up with a good thumbnail pic as well, but most people I like watching know how and when to do that and if it does end up being repetitive, I just don't even think about it because I like the content from them itself.
But no, this is different, the ai thumbnails are annoying and ultra lazy. Plus the influx of ai art usage is really despised in the art community and rightfully so. I'm sure many, many people feel the same way as me and don't wanna see ai crap used that way. So why not turn it all around and commission actual, real art for thumbnails? It's so eye-catching and I'd click in a heartbeat! Yeah, there are things to keep in mind like art can't be rushed, so that doesn't always work with people's upload schedule and it costs money, but if you generate revenue from YT I can almost guarantee you'll net more in the end for using a nice, stand-out thumbnail! But at the very LEAST, take a pretty screenshot, which is fun to do anyways! -and use that instead of pumping out more ai garbage like a normal content creator!! Please!
Alright, go support artists. Sorry for so many words, thoughts?

Link for all the chapters available for free here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
Having said his piece, Rene had expected the woman to accept her role as a prisoner of the Fleet. But no sooner had he taken his knee of her back than she was at him again, rolling over and cursing as she tried to spit him on her claws. Training kicked in and Rene applied the wrestling component of his hand-to-hand combat course. He secured underhooks with his arms, locking them together with his hands and hugging her tight from behind. Zildiz bucked and twisted around in a futile attempt to make room for her blades, even managing to get one of her knees beneath her and push off the ground. Rene allowed her to gain her feet, cunningly using the opening to slip the loop of his encircling arms around her waist. Now in complete control of her center of gravity, Rene swung his leg out and arched his back, heaving her up and over like a sack of turnips in a textbook suplex. A fraction of a second before he smashed the top of her skull into the hard ground, he remembered that he was supposed to keep prisoners alive and preferably not in a vegetative state, and so he cushioned the fall with his own body, falling on his side to increase surface area and dissipate the force.
Zildiz was caught totally by surprise. Unlike Rene she had neglected to tuck in her chin before the moment of impact, a vital detail which was one of the first things a recruit was taught to do on the mats.
“Oof!” she said as all the breath slammed out of her by the throw. Rene felt her body go limp as her dazed senses tried to adjust to the violent change of orientation. He took advantage of this moment of weakness and looped his legs around her body, locking his ankles together to form a full body triangle. His left forearm punched up and took her neck in a rear naked choke, a suffocating vise formed by the insides of his elbow crushing her windpipe and carotid arteries.
“I warned you,” he told her. His choking hand grabbed the inside of his other elbow, right forearm sneaking behind her neck and under his armpit, tightening the garrote even further.
“Had enough?”
“Hrrnnkk…” Zildiz choked. She lifted an arm and slid back the blade until it was the length of a finger, deliberately giving Rene the universal gesture to go and fornicate with himself, before sheathing the claw entirely and aiming her fist at him over her shoulder.
Rene ducked as the blade shot out again, only just avoiding it going through his eye socket and into his brain. As it was, it only nicked his temple, sending warm lines of blood trickling down his visor. Rene hugged her even tighter, constricting the chokehold until he heard her breathing reduced to an agonized wheeze. He throttled her until she stopped moving, her struggles weakening until she went completely lax. Then he held the choke for exactly three seconds longer, counting carefully to avoid giving her lasting brain damage. He let go and was relieved to hear her snoring faintly. Gently rolling her onto her back so she didn’t suffocate in the dirt, Rene cast about for a means to secure his prisoner. He had only a few seconds before she regained consciousness. Quickly he cut some vines from the surrounding trees and knotted them into a crude rope. He flipped her back over again and tied her hands at the wrists and elbows. He had no illusions that it would hold her for long. He tied her wings together at their bases for good measure. She had two sets of them, but the larger pair was missing one of its partners that had been torn off at the socket to reveal a gaping wound. They were wondrously tough membranes considering how thin and flexible they were, as sturdy as ultrapod leather. Rene looked over his work and loosened it a bit so as not to cut off the circulation in her arms. It wasn’t bad for something done on the fly. Then again, he’d been playing this whole thing by ear ever since the ambush that had cut his unit to pieces. Ye gods, but that whole experience felt like a lifetime ago. He had not expected to ever use that component of his hand-to-hand training designed for fighting human opponents. Of course, he’d helped put down a fair share of civil unrest in his time, but even during the worst of the food riots in Mound Ulysses he’d never so much as given a person a light shove. The civilians knew better than to antagonize a battalion of the Fleet’s finest over something as routine and reoccurring as a government rationing in the face of crop failure.
He felt quite bad about having to roughhouse the woman, that is, until she sat up awake and glowered hatefully at him, coughing and retching.
“Don’t,” he pleaded with her in exasperation as she gave him the old stink eye, “I don’t want to fight you again.”
“Why?” she spat defiantly, “Afraid you’d lose?”
“Uh huh,” Rene grunted, amused and even a little impressed by her spunk. She couldn’t have weighed more than sixty kilos soaking wet and was at least half a foot shorter than him even with that exomorph of hers, but this woman was all fight and no quit. She would have to be, living on the surface world and facing these abominations day after day. Rene looked at the dismembered corpses of the black-furred devils and had a sudden jolt of inspiration. As Zildiz tested the strength of her restraints Rene went over to the monster he had chopped to bits and poked the misshapen hump on its back, which had excreted thick ribbons of silk at the moment of death. Feeling more than a little squeamish, Rene pulled on the threads of silk. He had only meant to collect two or three meters of the material, but more and more of the stuff kept unwinding out its glands like a handkerchief from a magician’s pocket. Eventually his hands became enmeshed in the horrid stuff and he had to struggle like the dickens to unstick himself and scrape it off onto a bush where it stuck like a lumpy hammock. Remembering how his enemy had plugged the stab wound in its gut, Rene snapped off a twig and curled it into the white mess like those vendors at the fairs did with candy cloud treats, ending up with a spool of silk. He applied it to the cut on his temple by winding it around his head like a bandage, and was gratified when it stopped the bleeding almost immediately. He heard the rustle of dead leaves and turned around to find Zildiz furtively attempting to sidle away from him.
“Don’t even try it,” he told her, “Or I’ll run you down and knock you senseless. I’m taking you back to civilization. The Fleet needs to know what it’s up against out here, and you’re a veritable trove of information.”
Zildiz squatted back down and stared at him, simmering with resentment. Rene shook his head and continued his work, moving on to the monster that had been the first to die at the woman’s hands. Cutting open its hump, Rene was rewarded with a dense lump of thread still packed inside its spinneret. He took another twig and spooled it in, then wrapped the bundle of silk in a large leaf.
A leg twitched of its own accord. Rene nearly dropped the bundle as he sprang back, sword upraised. The devil’s limbs began doing a tap dance and Rene relaxed a bit, recognizing it as the onset of rigor mortis. The side of its face was split open and hanging loosely by a strap of flesh. Struck by a nagging suspicion, Rene stooped down and peeled off the segments of its head, holding the edge of his sword against its neck to decapitate it in the event that it proved too lively for his liking.
The musculature and armor tore away just like it had with Zildiz’s helm, and for the second time that night he found himself staring into the face of another living human being. Only this time it was a man whose face was utterly disfigured, a perversion of the basic form. In the place of his lower jaw were fingerlike protrusions of gummy tissue and exposed nerve endings. His nose cartilage was likewise missing, leaving only a pair of holes dribbling with snot. The man blinked, and glassy eyes with almost no whites at their edges fixed Rene in their gaze.
“Kill…me…” the man whispered.
Rene began to shake uncontrollably, wiping a trembling hand across his mouth as he was forced to consider the carnage he’d just wrought in a new and horrifying light. These weren’t three dead monsters littering the jungle floor; these were three dead men, and some of them he had killed himself.
“Kill me!” the man begged him. He was young, barely Rene’s age, his smooth skin untroubled by the wrinkles of age and worry. He had clear brown pupils and dark, expressive brows. If it weren’t for all the rest of him, Rene might’ve mistaken him for a fresh-faced recruit at the academy, or a paperboy climbing up the terraced apartments of inner hive to deliver news of the Fleet’s latest victory.
On unsteady legs Rene staggered back to Zildiz’s side and away from the awful truth he had uncovered.
“Something the matter?” Zildiz asked in a gleeful tone, “Feeling a little worse for wear, are we?”
“Shut it,” Rene said distantly. He dragged Zildiz to her feet and began winding the silk around her wrists, layering them over thick and tying them off with a simple knot. He kept the vines on her for added insurance and told her to start walking.
“Where to?” she demanded.
“I’m not feeding you to my children, if that’s what you’re asking,” he muttered, “I don’t have any to begin with, and even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t raise them to be cannibals.”
Zildiz didn’t move, so Rene grabbed her and frog marched her away. He had no real destination in mind—he just had to get away from this place and the bodies he’d made. Zildiz rounded on Rene, saying:
“Aren’t you going to deal with him? I only severed his neural connection to paralyze his exomorph. He’s still very much alive.”
“No!” Rene yelled, “That’s not how I—how people do things. Almighty ancestors, is that so hard for you to grasp?”
“Yes,” Zildiz replied quite candidly.
“He’s a living, breathing human being. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but those are pretty rare on Arachnea and worth keeping around.”
“No. He is a Leaper. After extracting your gilt helix, he and his packmates would devoured you right then and there.”
“That’s why you saved me, isn’t it? So they couldn’t obtain this shiny helix thing?”
Zildiz ignored his question, continuing:
“If you leave him here, at best he will die of exposure. At worst, his tribe will come looking for him, and if they find him, they will run us down and kill us anyway.”
Rene bit his lip. She spoke the truth and they both knew it. But after all this world had already taken from him, there remained one thing which he refused to part with. And Rene knew that if he gave in now and took the expedient option—the sensible option—he would be surrendering it forever.
“Sorry,” he said finally, “That’s against the rules.”
He dragged Zildiz over to the Leaper and spoke to him, saying:
“I won’t kill you. I’m not about to eat you either, so you can stop begging for a quick death. As long as you tell me what I want to know, we’ll leave you here and go our separate ways. I might even patch your wounds if you’re cooperative. Does that strike you as a fair bargain?”
The Leaper met this pronouncement with a look of utter perplexity that mirrored the one on Zildiz’s face.
“I’ll take that silence as a yes,” Rene said impatiently, “You’ll begin by telling me your name.”
“Kryptusshh,” the Leaper said slowly, as if not daring to hope.
“Very good. Are there any more of your people out there, Kryptus?”
“Why sshhould I trusht you? I would only be dooming more of my kindred, and there issh no certainty you would not kill me afterwardssh.”
“It’s a chance you have to take,” Rene shrugged, “Either that, or I’ll let this woman do as she pleases with you. And just between you and me,” he said in a loud stage whisper, “She doesn’t seem all that fond of your sort.”
Zildiz and Kryptus locked eyes with each other. Rene could almost feel the waves of hatred coming off her as she bristled, every tendon in her body tensing expectantly. Kryptus must have seen something he didn’t like, for he looked away and said:
“I am a warrior of the Weeping Vipersh. We are roughly eleven hundred sshtrong. One tenth of that number are bravesshh like me.”
“He lies,” Zildiz said, baring her teeth in a snarl, “That is less than half their true strength. He does not count the adolescents and the old loom-mothers, who are the deadliest of their kind.”
“Three hundred, then, if they are consshidered,” Kryptman quickly admitted, “Your pardon, merciful one.”
“I’ll excuse your forgetfulness just this once,” Rene warned, “But your memory better not fail you again.”
He questioned the Leaper closely. Kryptus claimed that only he and his pack had seen the safety pod’s crash landing, and that they had told no one else as they wished to claim the great prize all for themselves. The Weeping Vipers were the largest tribe in the rainforest and were always looking for an advantage over their numerous and belligerent neighbors. Apparently Kryptus had hoped to gain a modicum of the Divine Engine’s power by extracting something called a ‘gilt helix’ from Rene’s blood.
“Jussht one sample would have shatishfied uss,” Kryptus swore, “Then we would have taken you back to the Loom alive.”
“I’m sure nothing would’ve pleased you better,” Rene said wryly, all too cognizant of Zildiz’s earlier assumption that he planned to feed her to the Fleet’s youth.
Rene learned from Kryptus that the Divine Engine had ignited a blazing wildfire that was swiftly spreading north and west. The tribes would likely have noticed it by now, and would all be sending braves in a joint effort to douse the flames. For some reason all the Leapers felt collectively responsible for the wellbeing of the region, and could not allow it to come to harm for fear of dire repercussions.
“Last question. Is anyone going to come looking for you?”
“Not till the morning.”
“Good!” said Zildiz, breaking out of Rene’s grip and aiming a vicious kick at the side of the Leaper’s head. Rene barely caught her and yanked her back, shouting:
“Blood and thunder, woman! Is there nothing you won’t do to piss me off?”
“Are you insane? You cannot possibly mean to leave him alive!” the Gallivant hissed.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Now come here!”
Rene took her by the elbow and pulled her forward, leaving Kryptus where he lay.
“You promished you would tend to my woundssh!” the Leaper cried after them.
“Don’t push your luck!” Rene said over his shoulder, “Anyone who follows us will meet the same end as your friends.”
He and his prisoner went tramping off into the night, Zildiz raging at him all the while.
“Fool! We will both come to regret that decision!”
“You’re probably right,” Rene had to agree.
“Then why did you do it?”
“For the same reason I’m letting you strut around and screech into my ear. What can I say? I’m a conversationalist.”
Link for all the chapters available for free here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

I do get along better with women than men not to sound weird but I just can't really vibe with guys I right now only have a switch and my phone I play genshin on the phone so if you play that then hmu or if you want to talk about anime I've watched a ton of different animes but always down for new recommendations so anyway my discord is issacfoster299

The next morning, Himiko was awakened by a delighted scream. She shot up in her bed and saw Tenko dancing around the room.
"Nyeh...Tenko? W-What's going on?" Himiko asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.
"La-la-la-la-la-laaaaaa!!" Tenko sang. Then, she stopped at Himiko's bed and gripped Himiko's shoulders like a crazy person. "Himiko! I ate your Snoozydoodles right before bed, like you told me to, and I just had the most amazing dream!!"
"What was it about?" Himiko asked.
"There were no degenerate males in the world! And all the girls made me their queen!" Tenko sighed. "It was perfect utopia! A utopia...for girls! The sky was pastel pink! The clouds were extra puffy and white! The ocean was also pink and glittery, and all the food we ate was pink, like strawberry cake, strawberry ice cream, strawberry cupcakes, and strawberry milk! And girls of every shape, size, and color were everywhere! Not a degenerate male in sight!"
"Nyeh...a dream filled with just girls sounds like a nightmare," Himiko muttered. "Most problems I had with bullying was from catty, popular girls."
"W-What?! There's no way that's true, Himiko!" Tenko cried. "Maybe they were males in disguise!"
"No, I don't think so," Himiko shook her head. "Plus, a world with just girls is going to lead to extinction."
"Not in my dream!" Tenko exclaimed happily. "Girls were born from 'Girl Flowers!'"
"Nyeeeh...girl flowers? " Himiko asked, raising a brow.
"Yeah! You plant a pink seed into the ground, and when it grows, the petals open up and reveal a beautiful baby girl inside!" Tenko gushed. "It was so amazing! Girls, girls, girls everywhere!" Himiko wrinkled her nose.
"I bet it smelled like fish in that world," she muttered.
"Fish?! Why would it smell like-...oh! Hahahaha!" Tenko said. "No, no, Himiko! We didn't have to deal with that because there was need for it! All the girls came from 'Girl Flowers,' remember?"
"Oh...I guess that's true," Himiko replied, shaking her head at the absurdity. Suddenly, there was a knock at their door. Tenko went over to open it. Standing on the other side were Tsumugi, Angie, Maki, Miu, Gonta, Ryoma, and Kaito.
"Hey! What are you all doing here?!" Tenko demanded. "Especially you degenerates!" Ignoring Tenko, they all rushed right in and crowded around Himiko's bed. Himiko nervously pulled her blanket up to her face.
"Nyeh...c-can I help you guys?" she whimpered.
"I had the most wonderful dream because of your cookies, Himiko!" Angie chirped. "Everyone in the whole wide world became a follower of Atua, and was welcomed into his kingdom!"
"I had a dream that I finally went to space!" Kaito exclaimed. "And I became the world's best astronaut for discovering a lot of alien civilizations! Everyone voted for me to be president of Earth!"
"There's no way such a title exists," Maki said, shaking her head.
"Well, maybe not in real life, but that's how it was in my dream!" Kaito said. "But, anyways, what was your dream about, Maki Roll?" Everyone turned to Maki, curious to what kind of dream she had. She blushed.
"I'd...rather not talk about it," she grumbled. "It's too dumb."
"Just tell us already, Judge Moody!" Miu spat impatiently. Maki glared at her, then sighed.
"Fine..." she said. "I had a dream where I wasn't an orphan, and I had real, actual parents who loved me. And I was happy and nice to everyone, and I didn't have to worry about being an assassin and stealing peoples' lives." Everyone stared in stunned silence at her. Maki sighed gloomily. "See? I told you it was dumb."
"Geez, that's not dumb at all," Ryoma said. "Sounds similar to my dream, though, I would agree if you had said that wishing for it to happen would be dumb."
"What do you mean, Ryoma?" asked Tsumugi.
"It's pointless to dream or wish for something that will never come true," Ryoma explained. "Even though my dream was...surprisingly delightful, it also felt like a punch in the gut. Hmph...I don't know whether to call that dream a blessing, or a curse."
"What was your dream about?" Kaito asked.
"Well, I'll tell you, but it is depressing," Ryoma warned. "My girlfriend hadn't been killed, and I was back home with her and my cat. And I didn't even play tennis, I wasn't even an Ultimate student. I was a regular guy."
"That doesn't sound depressing at all!" Kaito said.
"But, the fact that it'll never come true is what makes it depressing," Ryoma said. "That's why I say, dreams like that are pointless. It's better to forget about the past and move on with your life"
"Bullshit!" Kaito exclaimed. "C'mon, man, stop whining about how depressing your life is! You say that wishing for the impossible is dumb and it was all in the past, or whatever, so why the hell are you still depressed? If you truly believed that you should move on, you should stop worryin' about the past and look to the future with bright hopes! That goes for you, too, Maki!"
"What? Why me?" Maki asked.
"It's true that you can't change the past, and maybe wishing for it to change is dumb," Kaito explained. "But, if you're still depressed about what happened in the past, it means you can't let go of what happened! You're not moving on! Moving on is accepting what happened, and doing whatever you can to make your life better! Instead of wishing to undo the past, wish for a brighter future! That goes for all of you!" The room fell silent as they stared at Kaito.
"So, anyway, my dream was about me actually becoming the characters that I cosplay!" Tsumugi said, breaking the silence.
"Hey! Don't just ignore my inspirational speech!" Kaito exclaimed angrily.
"It really wasn't all that inspiring," Tsumugi said, haughtily waving him off.
"Seriously! Nobody asked for your opinion, Mahatma Ghandeez Nuts!" Miu said to Kaito.
"W-What?! " Kaito exclaimed.
"Ha! In my dream, I was the world's best inventor!" Miu said grandly. "With my inventions, I was able to rid the world of starvation, war, violence, famine, and all that other bad shit! And everyone loved me! All the guys on the planet wanted to bang me, and my boobs grew a size bigger!"
"Um...can you not share your dreams?" Tsumugi said. "I feel like every time you speak, I want to do unspeakably horrible things to you."
"Shut the hell up, you four-eyed, lamebrain otaku! " Miu spat. "You're just jealous because you have two deflated balloons for chest!"
"Um...can Gonta share dream, now?" Gonta asked.
"Yes, Gonta, go ahead," Tsumugi replied, eager to not have to listen to Miu anymore.
"Gonta was king of bugs!" Gonta replied. "Everyone in world loved bugs, and loved King Gonta!"
"Tuh...that dream sounds stupid as shit!" Miu scoffed.
"Oh! G-Gonta sorry..." Gonta apologized with a hurt expression.
"You don't have to apologize to her, Gonta," Tsumugi said, glaring at Miu.
"You want someone to apologize to, apologize to all of us for wastin' our time!" Miu spat to Gonta.
"Hey! Cut it out, Miu! Stop yellin' at him!" Kaito yelled.
"Don't tell me what to do, Luke Skyfucker!" Miu shouted back.
"Stop callin' me names!" Kaito yelled back.
"H-Hey! Why everyone fighting?" Gonta asked. "Gonta not mean to start fight!"
"Leave it up to a degenerate male to start a fight!" Tenko growled, glaring at Gonta.
"If you guys don't stop fighting, Atua will unleash his holy wrath upon you all," Angie warned with a creepy grin.
"Nobody asked you, you kooky cult bitch!" Miu said, swatting at Angie. "All y'all are just jealous because my dream was better that yours!"
"Excuse me?!" Tsumugi cried.
"Yeah! Obviously mine was the best one!" Kaito exclaimed.
"You're plainly wrong! Mine was the best one!" Tsumugi said.
"No, it was mine!" Tenko shouted.
"Nuh-uuuhhhh...it was mi-iiiine," Angie said cheerfully.
"Um...Gonta thinks Gonta's was pretty good," Gonta said diplomatically.
"Sheesh...I can't believe everyone is getting so worked up over this," Ryoma said.
"Seriously. It's stupid to be fighting over something like this," Maki agreed.
"Well, I don't think it's stupid at all!" Tsumugi said.
"Yeah! In fact, I want another dream!" Miu said. Everyone turned to Himiko, who had been staring at them in horrified silence. "You better whip us up some more cookies, ya little midget, or else!"
"Well, um...you'll have to wait next weekend," Himiko replied in a small voice.
"I ain't waitin' that long!" Miu spat. "So, chop, chop! Get to makin' those damn cookies right now!"
"Nyeh, but...what about school?" Himiko asked.
"Himiko's right, we need to get ready for school," Maki said. But...I think I'd also like more of the cookies." Everyone turned to her in surprise.
"Wait...really, Maki?" Tsumugi asked.
"It was...a really good-tasting cookie...that's all," Maki mumbled, fiddling with one of her pigtails.
"Or is it because you liked your dream?" Angie teased. Maki frowned at her.
"Shut up," she said.
"I...agree with Maki," Ryoma said. "I want to see if I would have a different dream. One that's more...sensible."
"A dream that's...sensible? " Tsumugi repeated.
"Yeah...one that keeps me away from my past," Ryoma explained. "Do you think you can do that for me, Himiko?"
"Nyeh...okay," Himiko said. She knew exactly how to do just that.
Part Twelve
"What was all that ruckus about earlier, Monkey Buns?" Kokichi asked as he and Himiko walked together to school.
"Nyeh...just as I was hoping, my Snoozydoodles gave everyone dreams," Himiko replied. "But, when everyone that I gave them to was talking about their dreams, things got a little out of hand."
"Was that the effect of the magic?" Kokichi asked.
"Well, no...that was because Miu was being her usual, annoying self, and then Tsumugi said something, then Miu snapped back at her, then everything sorta erupted into chaos," Himiko explained.
"Didn't you say a while ago that the dream powder can be addictive?" Kokichi asked. Himiko sighed.
"Yeah...even small doses of the dream powder might cause someone to be addicted," she said. "But, it works really well, and that's why I wanted to put it in my cookies."
"Hmm...I hope you know what you're doing, Himiko," Kokichi said.
"Well...I have another idea where the dream powder might be not as addictive...but the effects will be just as good?" Himiko said with a bit of uncertainty. Then, she blushed. "I...used this method to dream about you before we started dating." Kokichi raised his eyebrows at her.
"Really?!" he exclaimed, grinning.
"Yeah...I had to steal your hair while you were asleep to do it, though," Himiko said quietly.
"Yeah, that's not creepy at all," Kokichi teased, wrapping his arm around Himiko's waist, and giving her a kiss on the cheek. A mischievous grin crossed his lips. "I wanna know what this other method is."
***
Friday night had arrived. Kokichi was with Himiko in her secret magic room. She was flipping through the spellbook titled, "Inside the Magical Mind." Himiko showed Kokichi the chapter "Build the Perfect Dream," specifically, the romance section.
"Nyeh...these are potions I used to have dreams about you," she explained to him, and pointed to the different dreams. "This is the 'sweet love dream' potion, the 'spicy love dream' potion, and the 'hot and steamy love dream' potion." Kokichi read the description of each dream, his impish grin growing larger across his face as he read.
"So, you drank all of those potions?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
"Well, one night, I drank the first one, then the next night, I drank the second," Himiko said. "I secretly gave the last one to Miu, because I was too scared to drink it myself."
"Ugh! You gave it to Miu?! " Kokichi exclaimed in disgust.

"Well...I-I'd feel dirty having the last dream!" Himiko stammered.
"Well, then, why'd you make that potion in the first place?" Kokichi asked.
"Because I was curious!" Himiko said. "But, then my curiosity was replaced by fear and feeling dirty, so I gave it to Miu. It's a good thing I did, too, because..."
"Cuz, why...?" Kokichi asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Because she was doing very...dirty things with you," Himiko replied. "Yeah...we were having our monthly slumber party, and in the middle of it all, Miu was dreaming and...nyeh...screaming."
"AAAUUUUGGHHHH!!! GROSS!!" Kokichi exclaimed, covering his ears. "I don't wanna do it with her!! "
"Well, she did say that you said that to her in her dream," Himiko said. "But, you only did it to get her to shut up because she kept begging you."
"Ew, I don't care," Kokichi muttered. "There's no excuse to condone bestiality." Himiko sighed and gave Kokichi a playful swat. Kokichi laughed, then eyed her flirtatiously. "Besides, my body only belongs to you...Himiko." Himiko blushed and lowered her head. Every time he said her name like that, it got her heart pumping like crazy. "My body...is your body." Kokichi lifted her chin to turn her head to him. "Mi cuerpo...es su cuerpo, y mi corazón...es su corazón."
"Ohhhh...Kokichiiii...!" Himiko gurgled with delight, biting her lip. She didn't know Spanish, but he made it sound so good. Kokichi leaned in to give her a passionate kiss.
"Okay, that's enough!" he said, stopping the kiss abruptly.
"W-What?! Wait! No! Moooore...!" Himiko pouted, tugging on Kokichi's sleeve. "I want mooore."
"Nuh-uh, Monkey Buns. Tomorrow is another cookie sale, so we can't get distracted right now. We gotta make these cookies like Hiro...baked! " Kokichi said.
"O-kaaaayyy..." Himiko pouted.
"M'kay, so how are gonna do this, HimiCocoa Bean?" Kokichi asked.
"Well...what genre of potion should I make?" Himiko asked. "There's comedy, action-adventure, romance, horror, fantasy, mystery, aaannnd...lots of other stuff."
"Comedy!" Kokichi said. "Everyone needs a good laugh!"
"Nyeh...okay," Himiko said, then turned to the comedy section of the chapter.
"So, you'll just pour whatever potion you make into the cookie batter, right? And mix it up?" Kokichi asked.
"Yup, that's right," Himiko nodded.
"Aaaalrighty, then! Welp, do your thang, babe!" Kokichi said, kissing Himiko's cheek. Himiko giggled and read the comedy section:
~COMEDY:~
Laughter is the best medicine, as they say! So, why not have it in your dreams? After all, there's nothing cuter than someone laughing in their sleep! Whether you're in the mood for some gut-busting, slap-happy humor, wild, crazy humor, or even just simple, laughable jokes, every hilarious dream is welcome in clown town!
Slapstick comedy dream: A dream where tripping, punching, bashing, slapping, falling, and everything in between is considered more funny than horrifying! If you fancy a dream like that, give Slapstick comedy dream a whirl!
Boil water in small cauldron. Once water is boiled, add 1/2 cup of dream powder, 1 tsp of pepper for an extra kick, 1 tsp of cinnamon for an extra bite, 1 tsp of dragon spice for an extra punch, 3 petals of the Laffodil flower, and a 3/4 cup of sunlight for some lighthearted fun. Mix contents until water becomes a different color. Pour contents into a potion bottle. Add sleep powder before consuming. Drink and enjoy!
Fun-loving comedy dream: You can't always watch comedy, you have to experience it, too! If you feel like going on a funny, fun-filled adventure full of laughter, then the fun-loving comedy dream is just what you're looking for!
Boil water in small cauldron. Once water is boiled, add 1/2 cup of dream powder, 3/4 cup of elven sparkles for whimsy, 1 cup of pink polka dot pond water, 1 tsp of sugar, 5 petals of the Laffodil flower, and 3/4 cup of sunlight. Mix contents until water becomes a different color. Pour contents into a potion bottle. Add sleep powder before consuming. Drink and enjoy!
Joker dream: Want a dream with less gut busting, and more on the relaxed side? Then, a Joker dream is prefect the perfect comfort comedy dream for you!
Boil water in small cauldron. Once water is boiled, add 1/2 cup of dream powder, 1 tsp of funny honey, 1 petal of the Laffodil flower, a pinch of jesterly ginseng powder, and 3/4 cup of sunlight. Mix contents until water becomes a different color. Pour contents into a potion bottle. Add sleep powder before consuming. Drink and enjoy!
"Nyeh...which one should I pick?" Himiko asked. Kokichi scanned the page.
"Hmm...why not all of them?" he suggested. "You can make three batches of cookies, and pour the different potions into each one! Actually, it's way more interesting that way, since people will get to randomly choose their comedy dream cookies!"
"I guess you're right," Himiko said. She got to work, whipping up all three potions. "Nyeh...all done!"
"Do you wanna go to D.I.C.E. headquarters and bake them there again?" Kokichi asked.
"Yeah, but...let's take the short way," Himiko said. "I'm already tired from making these potions." Before Kokichi could ask what she meant, Himiko snapped her fingers, and they magically appeared at the abandoned insane asylum serving as D.I.C.E. headquarters.

So this video is really old probably about 8-9 years ago and it was filmed in third person pov if i remember correctly. There's three men running from zombies in a city separately with their own story and it cuts to each of them throughout the entire video. One of them gets pinned down and dies, the other escapes through a gate and away from the zombies but with a bite on his arm, and the final scene and final guy stuck in a car out of gas surrounded by zombies while he smokes a cigar. I can't seem to find it maybe i got the wrong title or something please help find!

These are updated key points on the case from the Daily Mail article
Speaking of the autopsy: "The report gave more details on the grisly injuries the teen sustained in the hours before he died"

1. Roquero detailed extensive injuries to the teen's upper body, including 10 broken ribs, serious skull and neck fractures, internal bleeding, and abrasions all over his body.

2.The skin on left side of his scalp was torn off to the bone and a clump of hair and skin was found in the middle of the highway.
3.' Additionally, a clump of hair was observed on the right buttock without blood or tissue,' Roquero wrote.
4.Both his upper and lower teeth were broken 'with few fragments and found inside the mouth' and others strewn across the road several feet from his body.
5.He was bleeding out of his ears and had a cut on his lower lip and one on his tongue.

1. Presgrove's C1, C2, C6, C7 vertebrae were fractured to varying degrees and C1 was displaced - indicating a seriously broken neck.
   
2. There was one extensive skull fracture running across his head, 'splitting the middle base of skull into two', and multiple smaller ones, with police investigators describing his head as being 'caved in'.
   
3. Roquero wrote that there were 'no vehicle parts or debris observed on the scene', indicating Presgrove was almost certainly not hit by a car.
   

9.' He was naked and was only wearing unmatching shoes. There was a pair of shorts found several feet from the decedent and was reported to be his,' Roquero wrote.

1. 'Additionally, there were three pieces of a white metal chain as well as part of a tooth present several feet from the decedent.'
   
2. Roquero noted there was 'a drawing in black ink of a stick-figure person on the side of the right thigh'.
   
3. A video from the Saturday night of the party, on September 2, showed Presgrove's friends drawing their names and other doodles on his back and buttocks.
   
4. He went home and washed some of it off, but is believed to not have been able to get all of the marker off before he went back to the party the next evening.
   
5. The Adidas shoe Presgrove was wearing was his, and the other, a 'Hey Dude' slip-on, was from another party guest who was asleep at the time.
   
6. The shorts he was wearing were undamaged, despite the grazes on his buttocks
   
7. 'Currently, the OHP is not investigating Presgrove's death as a murder,' it said.
   
8. Then he rode an ATV ranger vehicle with several men that had a roll over incident. The decedent was alive following the incident and returned to the party where he got into an argument with his girlfriend,' it read. 'The decedent left the house party and was not found until the morning of September 4, 2023, on the side of the highway.'
   
9. Presgove's best friend Jack Newton, who was at the party but claimed he was asleep when he disappeared, said it was his ATV that was in the accident.
   
10. 'All of all close friends said that he wrecked my SXS I had there around 3,' he wrote in a message to another friend.
    
11. 'And he was super dirty and super drunk so a couple of girls helped him in the shower.' Newton explained this in the same conversation: 'When he got out [of the shower] he wanted to sleep in one of the girls' bed and she [said no and] that upset him and he walked off.'
    
12. One video from the night he died showed some of Presgrove's friends writing their names on his bare buttocks with marker.
    
13. The writing was not still there when his body was discovered in the early hours of the morning but it was not known how and when it was removed.
    

Hey everyone, sorry for the long post. I've been thinking about sharing this for a while now, and I've finally worked up the courage to do it. It's been a tough journey, and while things are starting to feel a bit better, I'm left with a lot of unanswered questions and uncertainties.
To give you a quick rundown: I'm a 30-year-old guy who came out as gay when I was 18, which caused some family issues and led me to move away. I've had some rough experiences in life, including being cheated on in past relationships. Recently, I ended things with my latest boyfriend after six months together.
He's 46, and only recently came out to his family and friends. He left an abusive relationship with a woman ten years ago and has dated a few guys since then, but nothing serious. He's also dealt with childhood trauma and abuse, and has had counselling for his sexuality.
We met over 6 months ago and we immediately fell for each other. I was introduced to his family within a month in the relationship and he declared his absolute love for me not long after that. We seemed to be in the most secure relationship ever, and despite having battled with trust issues in my previous toxic relationship (for obvious reasons) I felt at ease with him. He was expressive, present, caring, and spontaneous.
One and a half months ago, tensions began arising primarily from his work schedule and the abrupt shift from an intensely love-bombing phase to merely conversing on the phone twice a week, albeit with sporadic texting throughout the day, while still meeting on weekends. Whenever disagreements arose, he would either retreat to his bed without explanation or negotiation, followed by disengagement and a detached demeanor. Alternatively, he would suggest going out for a beer or dinner with his friends in the midst of unresolved discussions. He literally emotionally shut down, making it feel exceedingly difficult to reach a compromise (with no instances of shouting or yelling from either party).
Three weeks back, I called it quits on our relationship. During a conversation, he just went off to his bedroom without a word, leaving me alone in his living room for a good two and a half hours. It made me feel worthless, disrespected, like he didn't even care. No questions asked, he watched me leaving and said nothing until a week later when he got in touch, wanting to meet up and chat.
We met three days ago and after explaining my reasons for leaving, he admitted to suddenly realizing he still had some big childhood trauma to deal with, ones he thought he'd sorted out in therapy before. He said he felt guilty for hurting me and still had feelings for me, but he believed it would be wrong to keep things going and cause more pain. He promised to get help for his issues, and I told him I admired his honesty and wished him peace and healing. I even suggested we could work through it together if he was willing to put in the effort, but we proceeded to say goodbye with him saying 'I hope I am not making the worst decision of my life as I am very conflicted on this'.
I'm currently at a crossroads, questioning whether I should have persisted in fighting for the relationship as he genuinely seemed in pain. I genuinely envisioned a future with this person, and everything was going splendidly until this aspect of his avoidance surfaced. What are your thoughts on the matter?

Yes, this is a GENUINE question. I want to know if other people, doesn’t matter the gender, have met men who are none of the above.
I’m 24F and I have only been in one relationship in my life and it was with my ex of 6 1/2 years. We have a 2 year old together. One of the biggest points of contention throughout our relationship was his porn habits and constantly following women on every form of social media. I do not mind if a guy casually watches porn, we all have needs but it’s the fact that his manifested into so many aspects of his life and it did create a deep insecurity in our relationship. Personally, I don’t watch much porn because I find it boring and not very stimulating compared to just thinking of my partner, you know? But maybe this is because I am unable to enjoy sex with someone unless we have an emotional bond. For men i understand from a biological standpoint why their minds are more sexual but still, at some point I feel like it becomes TOO much.
For example, my ex followed many many many models and SWs, especially when only fans blew up a couple of years ago. He would always watch those skits on YouTube that were comedy mixed with sexual undertones, with a ton of different attractive women. He also likes watching the fanbus interviews and any kind of interview where a woman is being interviewed about sex. It’s like his mind is always thinking about sex and women. This is not normal, right? Can someone please just tell me there are men out there with healthy relationships with porn?
I always see snarky comments from men when this subject comes up, they are so quick to label a woman as insecure and that was something my ex did to me frequently. Instead of owning up to how his behavior made me feel, he deflected and said I was “tripping” and called me insecure and jealous. Is it not normal to start to feel an insecurity when your partner is taking in so much sexual content on a daily basis? When he is seeing so many different types of women he finds sexually attractive on a daily basis? I don’t feel like it’s insane to imagine someone becoming insecure from this especially when their partner deflects and gives no security.
Many things fell apart in our relationship, but what made me break up with him is finding his hidden twitter porn account. He made it in April of 2023 and by December of 2023 when I found it, he had followed 800+ accounts. That’s baffling. And what’s sad is during this time period, before I knew about it, I asked him if he had a twitter porn account out of curiosity because at one point TikTok kept talking about twitter porn. Especially on SW pages, comments like “the twitter is crazy”. In the back of my mind, no matter how much he told me he wasn’t watching porn (we had established that he had an addiction and that there is no “healthy” amount for him to watch, he needed to break the addiction first) I still knew in the back of my mind that he was. He told me after our breakup that it was like a habit for him, it felt natural. He would do it inbetween games, when he was bored, when he was pooping, basically any time. It wasn’t just brought on from him being horny. This is STRANGE, right? Am I crazy?
I just don’t want to feel this kind of heartbreak and insecurity again. I’m not saying I wouldn’t want a man to EVER watch porn, I’m not religious or a prude, but I just want someone with a healthy relationship with porn and who isn’t a pervert. Like come on, even the anime my ex watched had to be a harem or sexual in some way for him to watch it.
Side note: I’m not saying if you’re religious you automatically don’t believe in watching porn, I’m just adding context to show that I do not have outrageous views (like some extreme religious people have).

I wrote a post yesterday about an embarrassing situation that happened between my wife's best friend who is currently staying at our house. I was not sure how to bring it up to my wife and you guys really helped me a lot in understanding the urgency of telling my wife. I also got some cool ideas on how to bring up the subject without making it awkward for anyone. For everyone saying Ana was doing it on purpose, I did not agree with it as I am an extremely average looking person and woman don't chase me. However, things since last night have been just crazy and I think I am spiraling a bit. Sorry for the long post.
So, I decided to tell my wife last night as soon as she came home about the incident. I liked the idea of jokingly bringing up casually so that we both can laugh about it and then forget it. Last night, when my wife came home, I made sure I stayed in our bedroom. I asked Ana if she could stay with my kid downstairs. As my wife was changing, I asked her if Ana still borrow her clothes. Ana had to borrow them regularly when she first moved (long story). My wife told me yes and she has told Ana she can take anything from her closet if she needs it. I asked my wife if Ana told her about the funny incident from Friday. My wife said no, and I told her the whole story about how I came home early, and Ana came in the room almost naked to get her clothes, and how embarrassing it was for both of us.
As my wife was listening to this, she completely froze and turned pale. She started murmuring in Spanish (which is her and Ana's native language). I don't understand Spanish really well, but I understood the words "hombre casado" and "orta vez". I asked her if she is ok, and she sat next to me and asked me to explain everything in detail. I just told her it was nothing and she must have not heard me coming in. I was trying to laugh it off, but my wife had water in her eyes. I kept on telling her it was not a big deal, but she kept on asking me for more details. She asked me how Ana talks to me. I told her that Ana barely talks to me since she moved in except few words here and there.
My wife then asked me about three weeks ago when my wife had gone to visit her parents for four days. Ana did not want to go with her and stayed back. I told her that Ana was just acting normal. She or I would cook dinner after I got home from work while the other took care of the kid. The only thing different was Ana generally spending her evening in her room. However, when I was sitting in the living room watching TV after the kids slept, Ana came and sat on the sofa next to me but did not talk to me. I asked her if she wants me to change the channel or stream something she likes, and she just said she wanted to get out of her room. However, she did not flirt with me or do anything unusual. I kept on telling my wife that it was just an accident, and I really did not understand why she reacted so emotionally to it. My wife refused to answer and just said ok and agreed with me. However, she told me I should have told her about the incident sooner and should not keep any secrets from her and gave me a big lecture. I told her that I did not think it was a big deal and thought Ana would tell her, but glad I brought it up.
After dinner, my wife messaged Ana to join us, and she came out. While talking, my wife brought up the incident and told Ana that I mentioned about the incident, and she does not need to feel embarrassed. Such things happen when we are all in the same house and is not a big deal. Ana was firstly taken by surprise, but then told my wife she was just scared to tell her because she thought my wife would judge her because of her past. My wife gave her a stare, and she quickly changed the topic.
At night, I asked my wife what the hell was going on. I told her to please not keep any secrets from me, and if she does not tell me, I will directly ask Ana about what her past has got to do with anything. My first guess was Ana might have had a thing for me before we got married or something. But my wife was very reluctant to answer and kept on trying to change the subject and cuddle. However, I kept being persistent, and she finally spilled the beans.
Apparently, when Ana was in her early 20s, she was in relationship with a married coworker who was twice her age. It was a kind of sugar daddy relationship, and he told her that he was in an open relationship (or that's what Ana told my wife) and he would leave his wife in few years once the kids go to college. This makes sense now, because Ana is very pretty (like Miss USA level), and I never understood why she was single for most of the time I knew her. She eventually ended that relationship and started dating her boyfriend Jim, who turned out to be an abusive asshole. My wife said she suspects Ana was still involved with the older guy while in relationship with Jim, which explains why he kept on accusing her of cheating. That is why my wife became emotional when I told her what Ana did because she was worried Ana has no boundaries regarding married men. My wife said that Ana always looks up to us and praises me for being such a loyal partner and how lucky my wife is. My wife was a worried initially when she brought Ana home, but her actions from the time when my wife was away clearly show that she respects the boundaries, and it must have been an accident. My wife told me she is grateful I let Ana live in our house and observe what a healthy and happy marriage looks like.
Today morning was even more weird. I got up early as I could not sleep well and went down for a cup of coffee. After 5 minutes Ana walked into the kitchen and told me she was relieved my wife did not overreact to Friday incident. She said I am a good husband and gave me a hug and peck on the cheeks. She has never hugged me in the last 6 months. She seemed to be in a happy mood and was making small talk with me while having coffee.
I cannot believe my wife did not tell me such a huge detail about Ana for all these years. It's completely possible she cheated all through the relationship with Jim, and my wife is just covering for her all along. She even kept it a secret from me (after giving me a lecture about how we should never have secrets), and I don't know what else she is hiding. Everything just seems very confusing at this point. I feel angry at my wife for lying to me all these years for Ana. I also now see Ana differently. I am also worried that me trivializing the incident to my wife might have sent wrong signals to Ana.

Hey everyone ! I've been wondering these past few days especially since I became a vtuber myself, what really makes people watch your content, is it because of your model or because you're entertaining or because your personality is likeable, or all the three ? I mean surely like every content creator there must be something that makes people stay but I've seen the vtuber community blooming and growing so fast that I couldn't quite catch up on everything.
I personally entered it before because it looked intriguing and also interesting. I mean I'm a lot into mangas / animes and cute things plus content creators so when I discovered it, I was the happiest ! What about you guys ? What is your story ?
I'm sorry this is a bit of a wide topic but I'm really curious to see everyone's different answers ! <3

I work for a manufacturing company and would like to use Power BI to analyse quote and order counts and values over time, and drill down into different attributes of the quotes and orders. Everything we manufacture is made-to-measure and so each quote and order is unique. Over-simplifying things for the purposes of an analogy, imagine we're a car manufacturer making three different models where the purchaser can specify the model and within that each model has its own unique variants on colour, trim levels, wheel sizes and engine sizes.
We use industry specific software to model each quote/order and generate a sell price. This software can output an excel file consisting of one row quote/order, outputting a list of around 80 fields of information. I have broken this table down by extracting related fields into separate dimension tables (a Customer Info table, a User table, etc) and these are all linked back to the original table in many-to-one relationships between suitable Key fields. However, I'm unsure how far I need to take this.
Is it ok for all of the model types and the variables selected per quote/order to stay in the fact table along with the facts I actually what to summarise (cost price, sell price) or as these are dimensions, should they be separated as well and linked back to the fact table with a one-to-one relationship? Or is a third option, where I have snowflake tables where the variables are in a table that link to the model they apply to, which then links back to the fact table?
Apologies for the long post - I've searched many books and watched lots of YouTube tutorials but i'm unsure on this final step setting up my model

I woke up the other morning pretty pissed. A letter about code enforcement from the county bitching about my yard. The land has grown steep in parts, and i my attempt to mitigate damage done by previous owners, I ended up with a mound of debris that likes to grow weeds as well. I called them. Take down the weeds, they say, they will work on me with the debris.
I cannot seem to keep a string trimmer. I am less affluent than my neighbors and can only seem to afford weaker electric ones, and their batteries or really any part of them dies within the year. So, I decided to look into unconventional methods, and found how I might to take up scything.
I did a lot of research, and romanticized the idea of restoring a 100 year old American scythe like the men doing so on youtube. I immediately, late at night, searched up anybody selling some locally on FB marketplace. A man was selling two, for very cheap, very nearby. I messaged him and worked out the purchase. I fell asleep thinking of restoring the old instrument. I felt calm.
In my dream, I was bowing before three figures. One, a female, who was peeling a fruit that looked like a honeycomb full with red droplets of blood. One, a naked male with what looked like a viking helmet and a long, golden horn in one hand. The last figure I could not make out, just a scuffy, charcoal-like image on the edge of a shadow. I wept when I saw the second figure, begging him to interject on my behalf. I seemed to have entered the dream mid-conversation.
The two other figures looked to him, the woman looking on me with an almost doting expression of pity. The shadowy figure seemed to be whispering to them both in a language I did not know. Both the helmeted man and the woman nodded to it. The woman looked on me with a charitable sort of smile.
"You will have to give some token of your appreciation later." she says. Then there is a conversation I still do not remember. And I wake up. I forget the dream.
I am 34. I have several children. My two older kids want to go get the scythes with me. We hop in the car, and I drive around, getting tools to use in the restoration.
The man lives in a remote part of the next county over. It takes a while to find his house. He is waiting in his driveway. When I pull up, I immediately start feeling dread. I can't figure out why. He seems like a nice guy. Yet I feel something is off. I do some meditative breathing and calm down. I get out.
He tells me where he got them, and we talk a little. As soon as I pick up and hold one, I feel a brief moment of shock. Like in my legs and arms. I insist on ignoring the stupid feelings. I dismiss it as me being reclusive and not feeling social today. After putting the scythes in the hatch of the van, I come around to the driver side and stop dead.
The man is standing there with a piece of paper in his hand. It's a "million dollar question" he says. It's some kind of religious pamphlet on a fake million dollar bill. The man talks for a moment about death, about how we aren't going to be here forever, about how Jesus Christ is the only thing that will keep our souls from going to hell.
The whole thing redoubles the dread I feel. I am very polite and talk my way back into my car, feeling the dread mount more and more as I drive.
We stop at a light after an onramp. I am coming off an interstate turning left onto an intersecting highway. I try to breathe, feel very sick. While the light is red I for some reason decide to turn on some music, maybe it will calm me down. I get the urge to fiddle with spotify on my radio screen. I hear a loud beep. The light is green. I hesitate only a split second and then I start going.
Suddenly, a vehicle goes screaming in front of me. A red and white pickup truck. Has to be going 55 if not 65. It's a blur basically, even if I do make some of it out. I screech to a halt and then once the truck clears, complete my turn and immediately pull into the nearest parking lot, which turns out to be a bank.
My kids didn't even notice. Nobody seems to have appreciated but me how close we were to serious trouble.
As background. "Skeeters" in pickup trucks are a real pain here. They drive like dickheads, they are stereotypical as hell, and often I find that they instigate road trouble a lot. I don't know what it is about this area, but the "muh trukk" people seem to be way more prevalent than anywhere else.
Of course my reaction is rage. I wish I could have found this idiot who ran a red light and almost killed me and my kids. We were feet from a rather brutal collision.
I am exhausted by the time I get home. I disassemble the scythes and put the metal parts in a rust solution. I think about taking a nap and that is when the dream comes back to me. I remember the figures. And in my waking mind, I have theories on who they are. I do read a lot of old greek poetry and philosophy, so it could just be a coincidence.
However. If three greek gods were indeed discussing my fate in a dream, and one decided to intervene on my behalf, thanks a lot. I will find some "token of appreciation" to give.

So apparently, if the mines deploy just at the right spot, they can go inside a rock and sit there. And then attack an enemy ship from inside the rocks. I just watched two or three mines mines come out of the rock, go into the ship and kill it..
And since the mine is inside the rock, the radar / PD doesn't recognize it and does not fire on it.
This has to be the biggest bullshit I have seen so far in this game. How there isn't a collision check for missile deployment is just baffling.

Bill Rogers locked the garage door, slid the hose into the driver’s side window, climbed into the back seat, laid down and shut his eyes. When he woke up, he was surrounded by clouds and a blue sky. A man, neither young nor old stood next to him. He wore a coat like an Afghan goat herder, Bill thought, maybe made of sheepskin, or cowhide—tough to say, as Bill was no expert in husbandry. The man was small where Bill was large. Bill was six-three and two hundred and fifty pounds. He had played tight-end in college and lorded his physical stature over small men all his life. He felt it gave him an advantage at contract negotiations. He always made sure to be sitting when the opposing lawyers walked in because his size was hidden. Then he would stand up from behind table—a great reveal, a physical imposition—in an effortless attempt to intimidate the other team. It was mostly an effective strategy. The man, nearly a foot shorter, and a petite lady’s-weight less was standing almost eye-level with Bill. He sheepishly looked at Bill and asked if he was happy now.

“I suppose so,” Bill answered, rather dazed and unaware of all that was happening. “Are you God?” asked Bill. The old man smiled knowingly and set his delicate hand on Bill’s shoulder. “What can I do to make you comfortable?” Bill attempted to stand up but the man’s hand held him in place without applying any extra force. “A scotch would be nice! Do they serve scotch in heaven?” he laughed. The man laughed and gave Bill a scotch.

“Let me tell you, God, I wasn’t sure I was going to make it! When do we go through the pearly gates?”

“I’m afraid you’ve seen too many Hollywood movies. That’s not how it works. Tell me, how was life on Earth?”

“Well, I guess you can tell by how I checked out it wasn’t great. But I am feeling better now. Sometimes you just need a good night’s sleep, I guess, right?”

“I guess so. You weren’t very happy down there. But that’s what I’m here for. You can fix it all now. Tell me, what went wrong in your life?”

“Wait, is this Purgatory then?”

He chuckled, “No. Don’t be silly. What went wrong down there?”

“I knew it—those nuns were all off. Well, for one, I worked too much. I spent 80, 90, 100 hours a week every week for years—hell, probably decades when you add it all up—in the office, chasing the ring, getting the promotion.” His thought broke and he looked at the man and said, “you know I cleared 950-k last year?” Sinking back into his thoughts, “but it wasn’t enough for her. She could give Cleopatra a run for her money. Man she could spend. I worked all the time, always on the road to a different client’s office, eating airport food, never exercising. Traded my health and youth for wealth, then she got to enjoy it. I ended up all alone in my big house, all by myself and my LonelyFans Platinum subscription. Look at me, I got so fat no pretty woman could stand to look at me. If I could do it again, I’d go back and just make 60k a year, keep my health, my good looks, and go to clubs every night and dance with beautiful women. I wasted so much.”

“Wow, thanks for being so honest, Bill. I’m glad you were honest, because now I can give you the chance to fix it. I am going to give you the opportunity to craft the life you always wanted, the life you dreamed of! This is your chance Bill, to do it right this time. You had a full life, you tried out things: some worked, some didn’t—that trip to Tokyo probably didn’t help your marriage, did it; but now that’s all behind, now you get to create the perfect one based on everything you learned. Now you get to play God to yourself. You will have the power to create any life you want: money, women, food, servants, power, glory, the revenge on everybody who did you wrong—anything.”

“Oh, Good Lord, heaven is even better than Mother Superior led on! I get to do that? Now?”

“Yes, I’m granting you this power. Total freedom to do what you want. You deserve it! You’ve earned it, Bill.”

“Ok, so what do I do? Just point and make something happen?”

“Sure,” he said with a chuckle, “everybody always wants to point at things like some Vegas magician. The entire creation was spoken into existence, but ever since Adam people want to point things into existence—whatever makes them happy, I guess. Anyway, you’ve got the power of the Lord, do it however you want!”

Bill pointed to a cloud in front of him and a new truck appeared before his eyes. “Holy moly, I can’t believe it’s real.” The sun reflecting off the chrome was just a big blur to Bill Rogers water-filled eyes. He had to squint to see that it had the turbodiesel engine he had imagined. “I’m not going to get carried away on the wealth. I learned my lesson there. It doesn’t buy happiness. I had eight digits in my savings account,” he looked to see if the man was listening, “and look at where that got me. No, just a simple life for me,” he pointed to a cloud and four-bed, three-bath house with in-law suite and three car garage next to a lush green lawn appeared. It fronted a cul-de-sac. “You can’t take it with you, right?” he laughed.

“Is that it, Bill? What else do you want?”

“Well, like I said, I want to be young and healthy.” His stomach disappeared into his abdominal muscles and the brown spots and wrinkles on his hands vanished into a smooth clear skin.

“And what are you going to do with your time? Go back to your old job?”

“Ohh, you got a good sense of humor, God!” The old man laughed along with Bill. “Like I said, I just want to live a normal life and go to the bars at night, talk to beautiful women. Dance with them, smile, laugh. Have fun, that’s all.”

“Your wish, is my command,” he said, and Bill asked if that is how it really worked, and the old man laughed: “no, but people really started to ask for it after Aladdin got big, so I started doing it.”

“You’re a real people-pleaser, aren’t you, God?”

The small man’s sheepish smile resurfaced and a faint pink tint rose up to his pale cheeks.

“That is it for now, enjoy your new life, Bill. I’ll be back to check on you after a while.”

“Thanks, God, you really are great.”

“Oh, wait, one more thing—I almost forgot. In your newly made, perfect, heavenly life— do you want your children here?”

Bill let out a huge laugh, “of course! How could I forget! Yes, of course, I want to see my children! Not every day—and don’t have the Queen of Sheba bring ‘em by either, if you know what I mean,” he nudged the old man with his elbow, almost knocking his small frame over, “but yes I always regretted not having more time with the kids.”

“Great, I’ll make that happen. I’ll be ba-a-a-a-a-ck,” he said as he turned around.

A door appeared out of nowhere and the old man glided over to it, with his sheepskin coat dragging behind him. The door opened and he walked through it. It began to close, but his coat got caught in the door, and he had to reach back and yank it through. As the coat flew up, Bill thought he saw the tip of a German Sheppard’s tail and wondered if the dog had been there all along, but soon didn’t care as he saw his new neighbor, a young blonde woman in yoga pants and high heels getting into her Mercedes coupe. He tried to get her attention, but she was focused on fixing her lipstick and hair in the mirror as she drove away.

Bill settled down into his new life, got comfortable in his small house and extended cab truck, and began going out to bars and clubs, just as he had imagined. Every night there was a bar to go to filled with beautiful women, and they all were happy to let him buy drinks and chat for a while. Sometimes he would invite one or two to dance and they’d agree, and then disappear with their friends. Other times he would meet a young woman in pub and talk to her; they’d laugh and joke and maybe she would give him her number and maybe not. But he never saw the same woman twice. If he called or texted a woman, she never responded. If he asked a woman if she’d like to go somewhere for coffee she always declined and said she had to get back home.

On the rare chance that a woman did sit down and talk with him, the conversation was always the same: polite introductions, niceties, some flirtatious exchanges. He tried to talk to the beautiful women about life, what they wanted, what mattered to them, but they all just said they liked to have fun to some degree or another.

After three weeks of going to the bars and trying to talk to women, Bill got tired of going out. He stayed at home for a week, then he tried to find his neighbor again. He saw her car in the drive and rang the doorbell, but nobody answered. He only ever saw her driving away.

After a couple slow weeks, he tried going out again, but it was the same routine: a few drinks, a few laughs, nothing to talk about and goodbye, never to be seen again. Bill sat in his truck in the garage and contemplated his after-life. He wiped a tear from his cheek and heard someone knocking on his front door. He let the old man in, and Bill sat down at the barstool.

“Can I take your coat?”

“No, I like to keep it on. I came by to see how you are doing?”

“This isn’t what I thought heaven would be like,” said Bill, hunched forward, hands between his legs, staring at the floor.”

“Heaven?” said the old man, looking up at Bill. “Where did you get that idea?”

“Who are you?”

The old man took off the sheepskin coat and Bill saw the gray and white fur all over his body. The gray tail dragged on the floor, and the old man’s face looked like the snout of a grey wolf.

“This is your own doing, Bill. You made the life you wanted. You’ve had two chances now. This one you are stuck with, forever. No escaping. No crying, no laying down in the back of your truck for eternal sleep. This is the eternal sleep.”

“This is hell.”

“Call it what you will.”

The wolf got down on all fours and walked to the door. “Can you let me out?”

Bill opened the door and the wolf ran outside, almost knocking over the two people walking up Bill’s sidewalk.

“What are you doing here,” he shouted at them.

“We came to see you!”

“No! Get away! Get out of here, go! Go!”

The woman was getting in her Mercedes and looked over to see what the ruckus was about, but then looked away before making eye contact.

“Dad, we missed you! So, we followed you here. The old man told us how to find you! He asked us what our perfect life would be, and we told him ‘we just want to be with our Dad.’”

***
Follow u/quillandtrowel for more at Medium & Twitter (links in bio!).

I (F 23) have identified with the bisexual orientation since I was around 11. It has always been a very confusing part of my life and I often feel as though I may be missing something about my sexuality. When it comes to sex, I have been with all men and one woman who at the time identified as nonbinary. I’ve never even come close to being in a relationship with another woman. My only long term relationships have been with men and I have been dating my current boyfriend for a little less than two years. We live together and have plans of marriage and starting a family. I’m very attracted to him and he’s honestly the best sex I’ve ever had. Everything’s great, I love him with all my heart. He is the safest place that I know and my best friend in the world. I hate touching people but find myself always wanting to cuddle him. He’s so handsome to me. At first I didn’t think much of his looks but found myself wildly attracted to his looks the more in love we fell. That I’ve noticed is a running theme in my life, the more I get to know someone the more attractive they become. Every so often I look at lesbian porn and there are periods when I do it more often. I also notice that I get off much more often and quickly than with my boyfriend when I watch it. I’m not sure if it’s the women on the screen or the comfort of being alone but it concerns me more than I’d ever be comfortable admitting to him. I’m thinking about cutting it out completely because I feel that it is a betrayal to my partner to indulge in something that he can’t necessarily offer me. I’ve never been in a relationship with another woman just that one sexual encounter and a couple of make out sessions with some others. I’m really afraid to wake up one day and realize that I am actually a lesbian, but I also feel very confident with my boyfriend and I’s future as a couple. Just looking for some advice, kind words, or anything else this community may have to offer as I try and navigate these confusing feelings.

Bill Rogers locked the garage door, slid the hose into the driver’s side window, climbed into the back seat, laid down and shut his eyes. When he woke up, he was surrounded by clouds and a blue sky. A man, neither young nor old stood next to him. He wore a coat like an Afghan goat herder, Bill thought, maybe made of sheepskin, or cowhide—tough to say, as Bill was no expert in husbandry. The man was small where Bill was large. Bill was six-three and two hundred and fifty pounds. He had played tight-end in college and lorded his physical stature over small men all his life. He felt it gave him an advantage at contract negotiations. He always made sure to be sitting when the opposing lawyers walked in because his size was hidden. Then he would stand up from behind table—a great reveal, a physical imposition—in an effortless attempt to intimidate the other team. It was mostly an effective strategy. The man, nearly a foot shorter, and a petite lady’s-weight less was standing almost eye-level with Bill. He sheepishly looked at Bill and asked if he was happy now.
“I suppose so,” Bill answered, rather dazed and unaware of all that was happening. “Are you God?” asked Bill. The old man smiled knowingly and set his delicate hand on Bill’s shoulder. “What can I do to make you comfortable?” Bill attempted to stand up but the man’s hand held him in place without applying any extra force. “A scotch would be nice! Do they serve scotch in heaven?” he laughed. The man laughed and gave Bill a scotch.
“Let me tell you, God, I wasn’t sure I was going to make it! When do we go through the pearly gates?”
“I’m afraid you’ve seen too many Hollywood movies. That’s not how it works. Tell me, how was life on Earth?”
“Well, I guess you can tell by how I checked out it wasn’t great. But I am feeling better now. Sometimes you just need a good night’s sleep, I guess, right?”
“I guess so. You weren’t very happy down there. But that’s what I’m here for. You can fix it all now. Tell me, what went wrong in your life?”
“Wait, is this Purgatory then?”
He chuckled, “No. Don’t be silly. What went wrong down there?”
“I knew it—those nuns were all off. Well, for one, I worked too much. I spent 80, 90, 100 hours a week every week for years—hell, probably decades when you add it all up—in the office, chasing the ring, getting the promotion.” His thought broke and he looked at the man and said, “you know I cleared 950-k last year?” Sinking back into his thoughts, “but it wasn’t enough for her. She could give Cleopatra a run for her money. Man she could spend. I worked all the time, always on the road to a different client’s office, eating airport food, never exercising. Traded my health and youth for wealth, then she got to enjoy it. I ended up all alone in my big house, all by myself and my LonelyFans Platinum subscription. Look at me, I got so fat no pretty woman could stand to look at me. If I could do it again, I’d go back and just make 60k a year, keep my health, my good looks, and go to clubs every night and dance with beautiful women. I wasted so much.”
“Wow, thanks for being so honest, Bill. I’m glad you were honest, because now I can give you the chance to fix it. I am going to give you the opportunity to craft the life you always wanted, the life you dreamed of! This is your chance Bill, to do it right this time. You had a full life, you tried out things: some worked, some didn’t—that trip to Tokyo probably didn’t help your marriage, did it; but now that’s all behind, now you get to create the perfect one based on everything you learned. Now you get to play God to yourself. You will have the power to create any life you want: money, women, food, servants, power, glory, the revenge on everybody who did you wrong—anything.”
“Oh, Good Lord, heaven is even better than Mother Superior led on! I get to do that? Now?”
“Yes, I’m granting you this power. Total freedom to do what you want. You deserve it! You’ve earned it, Bill.”
“Ok, so what do I do? Just point and make something happen?”
“Sure,” he said with a chuckle, “everybody always wants to point at things like some Vegas magician. The entire creation was spoken into existence, but ever since Adam people want to point things into existence—whatever makes them happy, I guess. Anyway, you’ve got the power of the Lord, do it however you want!”
Bill pointed to a cloud in front of him and a new truck appeared before his eyes. “Holy moly, I can’t believe it’s real.” The sun reflecting off the chrome was just a big blur to Bill Rogers water-filled eyes. He had to squint to see that it had the turbodiesel engine he had imagined. “I’m not going to get carried away on the wealth. I learned my lesson there. It doesn’t buy happiness. I had eight digits in my savings account,” he looked to see if the man was listening, “and look at where that got me. No, just a simple life for me,” he pointed to a cloud and four-bed, three-bath house with in-law suite and three car garage next to a lush green lawn appeared. It fronted a cul-de-sac. “You can’t take it with you, right?” he laughed.
“Is that it, Bill? What else do you want?”
“Well, like I said, I want to be young and healthy.” His stomach disappeared into his abdominal muscles and the brown spots and wrinkles on his hands vanished into a smooth clear skin.
“And what are you going to do with your time? Go back to your old job?”
“Ohh, you got a good sense of humor, God!” The old man laughed along with Bill. “Like I said, I just want to live a normal life and go to the bars at night, talk to beautiful women. Dance with them, smile, laugh. Have fun, that’s all.”
“Your wish, is my command,” he said, and Bill asked if that is how it really worked, and the old man laughed: “no, but people really started to ask for it after Aladdin got big, so I started doing it.”
“You’re a real people-pleaser, aren’t you, God?”
The small man’s sheepish smile resurfaced and a faint pink tint rose up to his pale cheeks.
“That is it for now, enjoy your new life, Bill. I’ll be back to check on you after a while.”
“Thanks, God, you really are great.”
“Oh, wait, one more thing—I almost forgot. In your newly made, perfect, heavenly life— do you want your children here?”
Bill let out a huge laugh, “of course! How could I forget! Yes, of course, I want to see my children! Not every day—and don’t have the Queen of Sheba bring ‘em by either, if you know what I mean,” he nudged the old man with his elbow, almost knocking his small frame over, “but yes I always regretted not having more time with the kids.”
“Great, I’ll make that happen. I’ll be ba-a-a-a-a-ck,” he said as he turned around.
A door appeared out of nowhere and the old man glided over to it, with his sheepskin coat dragging behind him. The door opened and he walked through it. It began to close, but his coat got caught in the door, and he had to reach back and yank it through. As the coat flew up, Bill thought he saw the tip of a German Sheppard’s tail and wondered if the dog had been there all along, but soon didn’t care as he saw his new neighbor, a young blonde woman in yoga pants and high heels getting into her Mercedes coupe. He tried to get her attention, but she was focused on fixing her lipstick and hair in the mirror as she drove away.
Bill settled down into his new life, got comfortable in his small house and extended cab truck, and began going out to bars and clubs, just as he had imagined. Every night there was a bar to go to filled with beautiful women, and they all were happy to let him buy drinks and chat for a while. Sometimes he would invite one or two to dance and they’d agree, and then disappear with their friends. Other times he would meet a young woman in pub and talk to her; they’d laugh and joke and maybe she would give him her number and maybe not. But he never saw the same woman twice. If he called or texted a woman, she never responded. If he asked a woman if she’d like to go somewhere for coffee she always declined and said she had to get back home.
On the rare chance that a woman did sit down and talk with him, the conversation was always the same: polite introductions, niceties, some flirtatious exchanges. He tried to talk to the beautiful women about life, what they wanted, what mattered to them, but they all just said they liked to have fun to some degree or another.
After three weeks of going to the bars and trying to talk to women, Bill got tired of going out. He stayed at home for a week, then he tried to find his neighbor again. He saw her car in the drive and rang the doorbell, but nobody answered. He only ever saw her driving away.
After a couple slow weeks, he tried going out again, but it was the same routine: a few drinks, a few laughs, nothing to talk about and goodbye, never to be seen again. Bill sat in his truck in the garage and contemplated his after-life. He wiped a tear from his cheek and heard someone knocking on his front door. He let the old man in, and Bill sat down at the barstool.
“Can I take your coat?”
“No, I like to keep it on. I came by to see how you are doing?”
“This isn’t what I thought heaven would be like,” said Bill, hunched forward, hands between his legs, staring at the floor.”
“Heaven?” said the old man, looking up at Bill. “Where did you get that idea?”
“Who are you?”
The old man took off the sheepskin coat and Bill saw the gray and white fur all over his body. The gray tail dragged on the floor, and the old man’s face looked like the snout of a grey wolf.
“This is your own doing, Bill. You made the life you wanted. You’ve had two chances now. This one you are stuck with, forever. No escaping. No crying, no laying down in the back of your truck for eternal sleep. This is the eternal sleep.”
“This is hell.”
“Call it what you will.”
The wolf got down on all fours and walked to the door. “Can you let me out?”
Bill opened the door and the wolf ran outside, almost knocking over the two people walking up Bill’s sidewalk.
“What are you doing here,” he shouted at them.
“We came to see you!”
“No! Get away! Get out of here, go! Go!”
The neighbor was getting into her Mercedes and looked over to see what the yelling was about, but then looked away before she could make eye contact.
“Dad, we missed you! So, we followed you here. The old man told us how to find you! He asked us what our perfect life would be, and we told him ‘we just want to be with our Dad.’”

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