The success of traders is not always easy, since there are hundreds of losses behind. Their lives are marked by both triumph and drama and surrounded by money, speculation and fortune.
We prepared a list of the most famous market makers, including legendary traders in history and modern day traders. Learning from mistakes, thinking ahead and being flexible has helped them become successful traders. Keep reading this article to be inspired by their great feats.

1. George Soros

George Soros, alias "the man who broke the Bank of England," was born in 1930 in Hungary. Being Jewish, he survived the Holocaust and fled the country at the time. He is one of the most popular and famous traders in the world. In England, Soros worked as a waiter or railway porter before graduating from the London School of Economics. This led him into the world of banking when he rose to the position of merchant banker at Singer & Friedlander.
With the help of his father, he moved to the United States to work at a Wall Street brokerage firm. Following his successful results at several firms, George created his hedge fund in 1970, called "Quantum." There he rose to fame.
In 1992, Soros made a huge bet against the British pound and made one billion US dollars in just 24 hours.
Quantum accumulated £3.9bn, and Soros borrowed more to raise a total of £5.5bn. But sterling began to fall. Soros then shorted the £5.5 billion against the German mark on September 16, also known as Black Wednesday. This contributed to the fall in the price of the currency and forced the United Kingdom to leave the European Exchange Rate Mechanism.
The result was one of the fastest billion dollars anyone has ever made and one of the most famous trades in history, which later became known as “the Bank of England collapse.”

2. Jesse Livermore

Jesse Livermore's life could serve as the basis for a movie story. Born in 1877, he was destined to be a farmer, but ran away from home to become a multimillionaire. His story is wrapped up in money, lovers, bankruptcy and scandals.
At a young age, Jesse Livermore learned to read and write, became interested in news and economics, and learned to analyze prices. With experience, he mastered detecting trend reversals and popularized modern technical analysis. Livermore was one of the first to use stop losses, a risk management tool that traders still use today.
Jesse made his first $250,000 selling stocks just before the San Francisco earthquake. In 1925, he made US$3 million by shorting wheat. He then made about $100,000 in profits by short-selling American stocks before they crashed in 1929. One of the richest and most successful traders of his time, Jesse earned the nickname “The Gambling Boy.” .
However, Jesse went through several bankruptcies. He managed to get back on the market in the first two cases, but the third bankruptcy was fatal. He made a mistake and lost all his money in 1929.
Combined with family tragedies, stress, and other failures, Jesse Livermore realized he would never be able to operate the same way again. In 1940, he shot himself to death.
By the way, her son Jesse Livermore Jr. fell into the same habits as his mother, who suffered from alcoholism, and took his own life in 1975. This happened while he was drunk, after shooting his beloved dog and trying to shoot a police officer.

3. William Delbert Gann

If you are a trader who practices technical analysis, you have surely heard the name of WD Gann and his trading theory. William Delbert Gann was born in 1878 in Texas, the first of 11 children in a poor family dedicated to growing cotton. He did not finish primary or secondary school because his parents expected him to work on the farm.
Gann believed that the Bible was the best book and obtained most of his education from it. Her writing style is full of mystery, esotericism and an indirect style that many find difficult to follow.
However, Gann created powerful technical analysis tools such as Gann angles, the hexagon, the 360 ​​circle, the 9 square, and many more. Most of them are based on ancient mathematics, geometry, astronomy and astrology, and are widely used by traders today.
Critics claim that there is no real evidence that Gann did not make profits from investments in the market and that he made money selling investment books and courses. It is unclear to what extent WD Gann became rich from his trading analysis, but when he died in the 1950s, his estate was valued at just over US$100,000.
But the amazing thing is that, a hundred years ago, Gann created trading rules, ranging from basic money management principles to mind games, that still apply.

4. Paul Tudor Jones

Paul Tudor Jones is undoubtedly one of the greatest stock market insider traders in history, with an estimated net worth of around US$7.5 billion.
After graduating from the University of Virginia in 1976, Paul began trading cotton futures on the New York Cotton Exchange. As a curious fact, he lost his job because he fell asleep at his desk after a night of partying with his friends. Paul then worked as a commodities broker and, in 1980, he founded his investment and trading company, Tudor Investment Corporation. The fund managed to achieve a 100% return during its first five years, which is a surprising fact for today.
Paul's biggest prediction was the market crash of 1987, known as Black Monday. Thanks to his accurate prediction, Jones made about $100,000 in profit instead of losing money.
Paul Tudor Jones developed his own trading strategy, which helped him be successful. His main rule is to be consistent and not expect quick money. His great risk management skills and realistic expectations of his possible operations allowed him to have a stable income.

5. Jim Rogers

From his youth, Jim Rogers had business acumen selling peanuts and used plastic thrown away by baseball fans. He graduated with honors in History and obtained a second degree in Economics from the University of Oxford. Currently, Rogers' estimated net worth is over 300 million US dollars.
In 1964, Rogers joined Dominick & Dominick, LLC on Wall Street, where he traded stocks and bonds. But from 1966 to 1968, Jim was in the Army during the Vietnam War.
Two years after his military service, Jim joined an investment bank where he met his partner George Soros. In the early 1970s, they co-founded the Quantum Fund, which gained an impressive 4,200% in ten years.
The biggest skill that helped Rogers become a successful trader was his ability to make clear forecasts. In the 1990s, he was right in his bullish forecasts on commodities. Jim has also criticized the inability of the Bank of England and the US Federal Reserve to fight rising inflation, warning that it could worsen before stabilizing.
When he retired, Rogers embarked on a three-year tour of 116 countries in a custom-built Mercedes. He broke the world record for the longest car trip made uninterrupted. He also wrote books detailing his adventures.
BONKbot Telegram User Guide: Sniping 1000x Memecoins
Unibot User Guide
Top 7 Telegram Bots
Get a $100 bonus trading with Binance

So my ex and I share a dog and sometimes I go over and mind her when he’s away (my flatmate is allergic).
Immature move I know but I checked their computer which has all their messages. We’ve been broken up a year (I broke up with him) but we’ve slept together a couple of times and had a lot of big conversations about our relationship, but always agreed we should stay apart.
Anyways, I counted 8 girls that he’s currently talking to / sleeping with. He’s a really attractive guy and charming but never had the emotional intelligence I craved. I was really shocked by this and got very sad to see that he’s spent so much time with all these women and appears to go out often and really enjoying himself.
I feel like I’m the only one having a hard time? I’ve been dating and one person in particular significantly but I couldn’t help but feel jealous and weirdly competitive because naturally I want him to fight for me back but tbh he never has.
Is this an irrational reaction?

ALL TIME PICK RECORD: 223-156 (verified on my instagram finzchatsmma)
LAST WEEK: 5-7 (ouch)
PRELIMS
SW W Bout: Emily Ducote v. Vanessa Demopoulos
Records: 13-8 v. 10-5
Last 5 Fights: WLLWW v. WLWWW

• Ducote is coming off a win against Ashley Yoder who was coming off a 2 year layoff herself
• Emily throws with a lot of power but often finds herself getting outvolumed in earlier rounds - she debatably lost RD1 against Yoder but almost got a late round finish with how she pushed the pace
• Against Hill and Loopy, she was kept on the backfoot and was getting outworked by both of them - not bad losses considering those are two elite/crafty strawweights
• Ducote has excellent TD defense as well - the only bad thing is she sometimes leaves openings on the break of a takedown - both loopy and Angela clipped Ducote a couple times on the exit
• Vanessa has a big reach disadvantage in nearly every fight she has fought in, but she was able to record a clean knockdown on Maria Oliviera who had a 10+ inch reach advantage, so I don’t think this matters too much
• One thing about Vanessa is her reach is a$$, so she is absorbing way more strikes than a normal strawweight would - but then you look at Ducote, and she somehow absorbs even more (vanessa 5 to ducote’s 7)
• Ducote lands double the strikes Vanessa does and Ducote’s only UFC losses have been to high caliber competition who have been able to outland her
• I don’t envision Vanessa getting a takedown which is her main path to victory - she does have some punching power but Emily is way more accurate and lands bigger shots
• Vanessa has a chance to get Emily out early since she’s a slow starter, but I think Emily has what it takes to finish the fight here
• Vanessa is debatably on a 2 fight losing streak and the one impressive win she had, she was knocked down very early, so...
• For betting purposes, I think I am staying far away

PICK: Emily Ducote by RD3 TKO
BW Bout: Alatengheili v. Kleydson Rodriguez
Records: 16-9-2 v. 8-3
Last 5 Fights: LWWDL v. LWLWW

• 1st thing I like to examine is if either fighter has been chinned: Alatengheili has been chinned 3 times, all outside the UFC, to varying levels of opponents; Kleydson has yet to suffer a KO loss
• I rate Alatengheili’s win over Chad Anheliger more than anyone on Kleydson’s resume
• Kleydson has had one convincing win and it was a KO against Shannon Ross - who hasn’t knocked out Shannon Ross? - The other win on DWCS was a complete mismatch as he had a 5 inch reach advantage, and his opponent finished his pro career with a record of 6-4 after that.
• Alan hasn’t broken 50 sig strikes landed in any of his 7 UFC bouts - he throws with power as evidenced in his RD1 KO over Kevin Croom - he had a near 10 inch reach disadvantage in that bout as well
• Both men will utilize takedowns if they feel they can win a round with them - they don’t land many and aren’t good at controlling
• To properly handicap Kleydson, we can only really look at his bout against CJ Vergara since that’s the only one with no shenanigans
• In that bout, he was off to a face start, but time and time again I am seeing that if he is on the backfoot, he is not having a good time
• Kleydson is not good at fending off takedowns, but he is good at reversing positions on bottom at the expense of a lot of energy
• Alan’s main paths to victory are going to be shoot for takedowns and pressure Kleydson as much as he can
• I think alat can definitely do this - in fights he has lost, he finds moments of success - against Gutierrez, he got lit up with leg kicks for 12 minutes and then almost found a knock out against the cage
• Kleydson’s only path to win here is a knockout early - I think Alat has more paths to victory if he can mix in wrestling and continue his forward pressure throughout the fight, leading to a late round finish or a decision victory
• For betting purposes, I do like the idea of a unit on Alatengheili

PICK: Alatengheili by UD
SW W Bout: Piera Rodriguez v. Ariane Carnelossi
Records: 9-1 v. 14-3
Last 5 Fights: LWWWW v. LWWLW

• Both women have not fought in a year, and Ariane hasn’t fought in 2 years since her loss to Loopy Godinez
• Carnelossi doesn’t handle takedowns well - she has an 8% TD defense - she was taken down 8 times by Godinez and THREE times by LIANG NA THE GOAT
• In the defense of Ariane, she did suffer a knee injury in the first round which left her wide open for takedowns, but surrendering 3 to liang na is not a good look
• Piera, on the other hand, has landed takedowns on every opponent she has faced thus far and averages over 3 per contest
• Another thing to note - Carnelossi’s 2 UFC wins have come against winless UFC competitors - Nunes and Liang have ZERO UFC victories
• Piera lands more volume than Carnelossi and I think she will be able to have her way on the feet
• I have yet to be impressed by a full Carnelossi performance: she did do well against Nunes but she was rocked by Liang in RD1 and was controlled for a decent amount of time
• On the feet, I’d say the striking is very similar although I give the slight edge to Piera
• Carnelossi can also go for her own takedowns here, but Piera has done decent against women who chase TDs on her
• She did get tapped out by Gillian Robertson but I will chalk that up as an exception since Gillian is an elite BJJ practitioner
• Ultimately, I see more paths to victory for Piera - she can clip Ariane, fend off her takedowns, and get takedowns of her own
• Ariane can win by amassing control time and landing a lucky punch, but I don’t envision that happening
• Plus, Piera has been in multiple close fights that were debatably 1-1 after 2 rounds, and she has come out on top in Round 3 in all of them
• If you want to take a dog shot here, not the worst idea - this fight will more than likely be 1-1 heading into RD3 and anything can happen in low level WMMA, especially considering Ariane has been on the shelf for a while and could have been improving her game in that time
• For betting purposes, it’s dog or pass so I am passing

PICK: Piera Rodriguez by Unanimous Decision
MW Bout: Abus Magomedov v. Warlley Alves
Records: 25-6-1 v. 14-7
Last 5 Fights: LLWWW v. LLLWL

• Both fighters are coming off of short losing streaks, but both fighters were dominated in those fights by their opponents
• Abus is hard to predict - we’ve only seen him in 3 ufc bouts - he got a quick KO finish over Dustin Stoltzfus who had never been KO’d prior, a KO loss to Sean Strickland who simply outworked and put a pace on him, and a decision loss to Caio Borralho
• In that loss to Caio, we learned a lot - Abus is RD1 KO or bust and for him to be -200+ is crazy even knowing his opponent is chinny and has been finished a bunch
• Now let’s look at the Alves side - he has lost 5 of his last 7 and got finished in 4 of those losses - KO’d by Ikram at MW, split decision loss to Dalby at WW which he debatably won, KO loss to Jeremiah Wells where he debatably won RD1, triangle choke loss to Randy Brown where he won RD1 clearly, and a KO loss to James Krause where he was simply outclassed
• Alves has not performed well when he has the reach disadvantage, and he has a 6 inch reach disadvantage against Abus and will be significantly smaller
• It will be fun to see the leg kicks in this fight - both guys love to fire them at will and both have had successful KOs from their kicks
• If I was coaching Alves to win, the blueprint to beat Abus is simple - gas him out with clinch work and takedown attempts and hunt for a late round finish - Abus gasses in every fight we’ve seen that extends past the 1st
• I give Alves the wrestling advantage here - Magomedov might be Dagestani but he’s shot for only 1 takedown in his 3 UFC bouts and was unsuccessful - he shot for 0 against Borralho in a fight he was getting clipped on the feet
• Alves is chinny so backing him is a mega concern but backing Abus is equally as dumb especially at -295
• Both Alves and Magomedov are super active in RD1, so if this somehow extends beyond that, Alves is a worthy live bet
• I am predicting either a RD1 KO from Abus, or a RD3/Decision finish from Alves
• For betting purposes, I’d much rather bet the under 1.5 rds than I would a bet on either guy to win

PICK: Abus Magomedov by RD1 KO
BW W Bout: Tamires Vidal v. Melissa Gatto
Records: 7-2 v. 8-2-2
Last 5 Fights: LWWWW v. LLWWW

• The narrative for this fight is Gatto is looking for a bounce back and Vidal is the perfect opponent to get that win
• This is actually a move up in weight for Gatto - her last fight was canceled after weigh ins so rather than cutting weight again, she is fighting at BW for the 1st time in her UFC run
• Gatto seemingly possesses all the upside here - she has the takedown edge, she is better at fending off takedowns, and she has the power edge with 2 UFC KO wins compared to Vidal’s one
• Off of stats alone, you would think this fight is going to be razor close since their outputs are nearly identical
• Getting out struck by Montserrat Rendon isn’t the best look for Vidal, but Rendon fights a much different way than Gatto - she is more grindy and clinchy whilst Gatto is more in your face
• Watching the Rendon fight, it is clear what Vidal’s strategy is - she is going to pound low leg kicks until her opponent puts her hands down, then she is going to fire overhangs off of leg kick feints
• Against Rendon, this did not work - Rendon countered nearly every low kick with a cross and got multiple takedowns off of Vidal’s leg kicks
• The Gatto side isn’t super trustworthy in this matchup - when she gets taken down, she is willing to stay in guard for a long time while she fishes for subs
• If this fight hits the ground, I think a finish will soon come after
• I give Gatto the power edge, the grappling edge, and the takedown edge - I believe she can clip Vidal on the way in and get the fight to the mat, leading to a submission victory
• For betting purposes, I like this fight to end in sub

PICK: Melissa Gatto by RD2 Submission
LHW Bout: Oumar Sy v. Tuco Tokkos
Records: 9-0 v. 10-3
Last 5 Fights: WWWWW v. WWWLW

• This fight was put together this week so it’s hard to give a full handicap but I will try my best
• After suffering a KO defeat to Mingyang Zhang in the Road to UFC as a -600 favorite, Tuco went on a 3 fight win streak: decision win against a 3-2 guy, and back to back TKO victories over guys with 1-7 and 19-10 records - his record is insanely inflated
• Oumar has a relatively simple gameplan - get this fight to the mat as quickly as possible - he is a big position over submission guy so you won’t see him chasing finishes on the ground super often
• He is willing to get a sub, and he willing to get a ground and pound TKO, and he is willing to back mount for 15 minutes en route to a decision victory
• Looking at the tape, Tokkos can so easily get his back taken and has let opponents do this such as Clayton York
• I don’t think Oumar is chinny, and Tokkos’s main win condition is going to be an early KO which I don’t see him finding
• Oumar by sub is a risky play considering he is all 3 paths to victory, but I like it when you factor in Tokkos’ proclivity to being taken down by higher level wrestlers
• For betting purposes, I really like Oumar as a parlay piece

PICK: Oumar Sy by RD1 Submission
LW Bout: Tom Nolan v. Victor Martinez
Records: 6-1 v. 13-5
Last 5 Fights: LWWWW v. LWWWW

• Tom Nolan as a -500 favorite is absolutely crazy to me considering his only UFC performance was a 30 second KO loss, so I am going to try to do everything in my power to look for fade material in this writeup
• Well, I didn’t get far. Martinez is coming off of a KO loss to Jordan Leavitt, who only has one other KO victory in his career (by a slam)
• There’s nothing on tape that would show Martinez is chinny - his KO loss was a knee to the body, and his only other KO loss was his 1st professional fight
• Prior to his KO loss, Nolan was on a 6 fight win streak and a 4 fight KO streak
• Ok - I have seen enough
• Martinez was nearly KO’d in his DWCS fight in RD1 and somehow managed a comeback
• Nolan is getting a quick finish here or he is going to get finished trying - I will take my chances on him though
• For betting purposes, Nolan by KO is a worthy read

PICK: Tom Nolan by RD1 KO
MAIN CARD
SW W Bout: Angela Hill v. Luana Pinheiro
Records: 16-13 v. 11-2
Last 5 Fights: WLWWL v. LWWWW

• Can’t really handicap this fight based on stats - Angela Hill been in the UFC for eons it feels like and she is an aging fighter who has liked somewhat decent in her recent fights
• On the feet, I give Luana the power edge - she loves throwing overhands and hooks and throws with vicious intent
• In her fight against Michelle Waterson, she was losing rounds via points until she would clip Michelle with a big shot, thus swinging the round in her favor
• Luana doesn’t throw with much volume, but when she lands, she draws a big reaction which is key for the judges especially in WMMA when the rounds are separated by a razor thin margin
• The question is is Angela Hill the type to get rocked like this? I think not
• Angela is going to turn this into a grindy type fight - she definitely has the fight IQ to win a fight like this
• Angela’s last fight against Denise Gomez is a very good one to rewatch since Luana and Denise share similar characteristics in the fact that they both throw with heat early and they both gas as the fight wanes on
• In Hill’s losses, she was either getting taken down a lot or was outvolumed on the feet - Luana doesn’t throw with high volume so don’t see that happening - Luana does average over 2 TDs per fight but she’s not a high level wrestler like that and I see Angela having more success in that department as well
• Hard to make a pick here - I think Luana will throw the bigger shots, but I also think Angela can grind out Luana along the fence and point strike her way to a very close decision victory
• For betting purposes, I like the over 2.5 rds, but I think this should be a fade

PICK: Angela Hill by Split Decision
BW Bout: Adrian Yanez v. Vinicius Salvador
Records: 16-5 v. 14-6
Last 5 Fights: LLWWW v. LLWWW

• This card seems to be full of fighters looking to get right after a bad loss, or fighters the UFC is trying to prop up giving them a can to defeat
• This is one of those fights
• Yanez is on a 2 fight losing streak after having big jump ups in competition: he lost to Rob Font by getting absolutely destroyed from his jab, and he lost to Jonathan Martinez by getting absolutely destroyed with leg kicks
• We have seen Yanez in a UFC branded octagon 8 times, and NOT ONE of those fights included a takedown - he wasn’t, nor did he shoot for one and succeed
• Salvador, on the other hand, shot for 2 takedowns against CJ Vergara and landed zero, and he shot for 6 takedowns on Victor Altamarino and landed 1
• For all intensive purposes, this fight is going to stay standing, and Yanez has excelled on the feet against lower level competition
• It is interesting to note: of his 8 ufc bouts, 3 of them were a 1st round KO victory
• Against Randy Costa, he lost RD1 before getting a liver shot KO in RD2
• Against Davey Grant, he arguably lost 2 rounds before winning a split decision
• Salvador has had one impressive performance and it was a KO win against Shannon Ross, and who hasn’t KO’d Shannon Ross
• Watching the tape on his fights against CJ and Altamarino, you can see a couple of things: he does badly against guys that mix in TDs (Yanez will not), and he throws with vicious intent just like Yanez. If he has you pressed against the cage, you better bite down on the mouthpiece and hope for success.
• Salvador is also moving up a weight class so his chin might be better and he may have more power
• Ultimately, I’ve always thought of Yanez as having Top-15 level talent, and I cannot expect him to lose here
• For betting purposes, I may throw Yanez in a parlay or simply bet this fight to end in KO

PICK: Adrian Yanez by RD2 KO
WW Bout: Ramiz Brahimaj v. Themba Gorimbo
Records: 10-4 v. 12-4
Last 5 Fights: WLWLW v. WWLWL

• Pretty simple to breakdown Braimaj - he has 10 wins, all by submission, and 3 losses by decision, and the 1 ko loss he has could have went to a decision but his ear was falling off so the doctor had to step in - he also has not fought since 2022 whilst Themba has been super active in the UFC recently and has shown huge improvements fight to fight
• In fights that stay standing, Brahimaj has been pummeled - he barely shot for a takedown against Max Griffin and was brutalized on the feet for 3 rounds until the ref stepped in for his ear
• We know Ramiz’s game, but does Themba have the tools to expose Ramiz’ weaknesses and negate his strengths?
• Well, Themba has 2 Guillotine losses on his record - it is concerning how he keeps his neck out there to be taken when he shoots for a takedown
• I am hoping Themba has improved his FIGHT IQ since his Fletcher fight since he has a new team and new camp - if he shoots for takedowns, he might be cooked with a Ramiz gilly
• Themba recorded a nasty knockdown on Takashi Soto in their bout - I see this fight going similarly
• Themba losing by gilly is the only way I see him losing - if he goes in for a lazy takedown perhaps
• Outside of that, Themba has KO power shown in his most recent performance, has striking ability shown in his Soto performance, and has sub/back mount ability, which has been shown in all his UFC fights thus far
• For betting purposes, I really like Themba as a straight pick

PICK: Themba Gorimbo by RD2 KO
WW Bout: Khaos Williams v. Carlston Harris
Records: 14-3 v. 19-5
Last 5 Fights: WLWWL v. WWLWW

• On the surface, this appears to be a striker v. grappler matchup, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say that - Carlston definitely has hands outside of his elite grappling - Khaos, yeah, he’s mainly a striker
• If this fight stays standing, I give Khaos the slight edge - he doubles Carlston’s output and 3 KO victories compared to Carlston’s 1
• Wathcing over his last few fights - Khaos fights in a very particular manner - he charges in with a flurry of power shots and is willing to get point fought to a decision if he doesn’t land a KO blow
• He has a split loss to Randy Brown which was super close, and it was only close because of the occasional power shot Khaos landed
• He has a decision win against Bodoya in a fight I could have seen him lose, but his big power flurries are what got him the W
• He is very good at fending off takedowns as he fended off 4 of Randy Brown’s attempts and 2 of Bodoya’s, but we also haven’t seen him tested against elite wrestlers (Carlston is not an elite wrestler, mind you)
• Now looking at Harris - not the best striker but he has excellent clinch work if he gets close and excellent BJJ if the fight somehow hits the mat
• One thing I noticed in his Wells fight - he got dominated for 2 rounds and nearly subbed, but it wasn’t because he was taken down - rather, he kinda almost threw himself at the ground and Wells followed him
• Against Gooden, he showcased his clinch work and showed he has pretty good takedowns
• This is a match of question marks: We haven’t really seen Khaos’ grappling/wrestling on display yet, and we haven’t seen what happens if Carlston Harris is forced to stand and abandon his wrestling for 3 rounds
• If we’re going by paths to victory, it’ll be a long night for Harris if he can’t get a takedown
• Khaos I think just has more ways to win: he can get the knockout since we’ve seen Harris recently chinned; he can get the decision victory if he outlanding Harris as well
• BUT... after reviewing Khaos v Michel Pereira, how on earth can you pick this man?
• Pereira landed takedowns at will and nearly got a RNC on khaos - if harris gets into similar spots, it should be wraps
• For betting purposes, I really like Carlston as a straight pick

PICK: Carlston Harris by RD2 Sub
FeathW Bout: Edson Barboza v. Lerone Murphy
Records: 24-11 v. 13-0-1
Last 5 Fights: WWLLW v. WWWWW

• We find ourselves in the main event and this one is fairly straightforward to break down, not straightforward to provide a pick
• Barboza is coming off back to back wins, one a KO on Billy Q and another a 5 round decision victory over Sodiq
• Against Sodiq, he was nearly KO’d in the 1st, but then he himself almost got Sodiq KO’d later in the bout
• Edson is a super dangerous striker - you didn’t need me to tell you that - the issue he’s had in his career has been not being able to beat the upper echelon of fighters in his weight class
• Edson has recorded knockdown in nearly ALL of his past 10 fights, having 1 in at least 6 of them, even in fights he wound up losing
• Edson does have trouble with the takedown, but I rate Murphy’s wrestling similarly to Sodiq’s - I picked Sodiq in that fight for this reason but Edson turned it up to a whole ‘nother level as the fight progressed
• We have yet to see Murphy compete in a 5 rounder, but we have also not seen Murphy get super tired in the 3 rounders he’s fought in
• Both guys are proven finishers with multiple KO victories, but both guys have also shown abilities to grind out close decision victories - although Barboza often finds himself on the losing side if a fight sees the scorecards
• The level of competition is not comparable - Lerone Murphy’s best wins are against guys that are no longer in the UFC, and even the guys that are, they aren’t the best level
• Lerone leaves so many openings on the feet - Edson’s unique striking is going to give him issues IMO
• Edson does have a chin issue - this is the only concern - he was wobbled and nearly finished by Sodiq in RD1, and Sodiq isn’t known for his striking like that
• Edson was also knocked down twice by Giga and even once by Bryce Mitchell of all people
• Edson is also aging so that could be a factor here, but ultimately, how do you not side with the guy who’s been on a recent career resurgence AND the guy who has fought the higher level of competition AND the guy who has been in 5 rounders before?
• For paths to victory, they both have KO and decision, so can’t really use that to predict either - but Murphy may have a sub path even though he has 0 wins by that method - in his Culibao fight, he nearly got a RNC from his wrestling
• I have seen Murphy wobbled before, and I wouldn’t be shocked to see an Edson finish
• BUT - I have also seen Edson wobbled and KO’d by lesser competition, and I have seen Murphy utilize his grappling before
• For betting purposes, I like Lerone Murphy straight up - his win conditions are too volatile in this matchup

PICK: Lerone Murphy by Unanimous Decision

PC

Discord Tag: 7up
Name and House: Ronnel Arryn
Age: 33
Cultural Group: Valeman
Appearance: Cheekbones poised like a falcon perched, an aquiline nose after a raptor's beak, a stature rivalling a mountain's (if it were the size of a tall man), and blue eyes the same color as the sky. Aside from a propagandist's parallels to whatever sigil their patron displays, Ronnel Arryn errs from the example of the aloof falcon. Once possessed of a heedless will, a brashness and an impatience, those qualities have been tamed in turn by fatherhood, husbandhood, and rulership—though those traits still persist, merely tinged by the manner that an elder brother might take with the younger. His hair has shifted from dirty blond to sandy brown with age, and a trimmed beard covers his jaw.
Trait: Inspiring
Skill(s): Blunt Weapons, Cavalryman, Tactician, Cunning (e)
Talent(s): Falconry, hunting (non-mechanical 🤫🧏‍♂️), dragonriding
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): Lord of the Eyrie, Lord of the Vale, Defender of the Guarded Domains of Arryn, Warden of the East, Warden of the Green Fork, First and Last of His Name, the King Who Flew, Rider of Vhagar (sometimes), and the Last King in Westeros
Starting Location: Feast
Family Tree

AC

Name and House: Marq Hardyng
Age: 32
Cultural Group: Valeman
Appearance: A broad and ruddy man, blonde, brown-eyed, and bearded. Marq Hardyng wears his duty on his sleeve; that duty mostly being hunting with his milk brother.
Trait: Hale
Skill(s): Swords, Investigator (e)
Talent(s): Tourney lore x3
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): Scion of House Hardyng
Starting Location: Feast

Biography

Little of the Last King’s early years are of much import; Ronnel Arryn was born to King Joffrey I and Queen Sharra Arryn. His few memories of his father were that of a pallid man, wan and sickly but still a king who bloody well fought the illness that plagued him.
Or perhaps those were just fanciful tales, an imagined story that supplanted the truth of the matter.
Joffrey Arryn did at least survive, if he did not fight. Ronnel’s siblings, Jonos and Roland, would be born in succession. The falcons grew in number, Joffrey’s ailment ceased, and—the gods took him away and brought Arwen Arryn into the world.
Shortly after his sister’s birth, Sharra Arryn dressed her son in royal regalia and placed a crown on his head, assuming rule as sole regent while the boy distracted himself with toys and games. He would be nursed with Marq Hardyng, and he and his milk brother grew to be quick friends.
The Queen Sharra could not rest. There were new contenders on the horizon, greater than what meager assaults the Hoares could occasionally muster against the Bloody Gate: the threefold conquerors atop their dragons. Where the ravens sent by Aegon were met with scorn by Durrandon and hubris by the Hoares, Sharra offered alliance. Her hand in marriage and the left bank of the Green Fork to be annexed into the Guarded Domains.
The dragons rejected the offer, and instead, a Velaryon fleet was sent to take Gulltown and establish a foothold. They were repelled and the Targaryen ships were sunk for that transgression, but Vhagar’s fire consumed the Grafton fleet with them.
Ronnel knew what war was. It was like those tales in storybooks, that of the Griffin King and the Winged Knight, the legends of the Battle of Sevenstars. He, Jonos, and Marq fashioned themselves as Jaime Corbray or Luceon Templeton and fought each other over who could best live up to Artys Arryn’s example. When the Gates of the Moon swelled with men-at-arms, knights, and levied smallfolk, the three would find the most fearsome looking of them and challenge them to duels. Once he heard of dragons, though, Ronnel was consumed. He begged his mother to let him lead a parlay under a peace banner just so that he could see them, but Sharra sent him off to the nurses or left him to kick rocks in the courtyard.
The banners gathered, and the defenses were headed by Lord Rodrik Hardyng. Orders were given, the soldiers were drilled. And Vhagar’s wings cast a shadow so large that it engulfed the Bloody Gate whole. Shouting on the ramparts and in the valleys, but high above in the Eyrie? Ronnel, then just eight, was in awe at the sight.
Sharra could only muster a smile when she returned to find her son on Visenya’s lap. An accord was struck, on Ronnel’s terms this time: he asked to fly on Vhagar and his mother would surrender the crown to the Targaryen Queen. The mercy that Visenya afforded was well-taken, though in Sharra’s mind, the threat of dragonfire crystallized.
A marked shift came then. There were no battles to be won, no politicking to be done that outweighed the import of her sons and her daughter. The Queen-Regent, now the Lady-Regent, empowered her son’s advisors and devoted her time to looking after her children. When Visenya returned after burning House Sunderland whole and gave reprimands, Sharra frowned and offered blunt words in turn, which the Queen acquiesced to. Their relationship thawed hence, though Ronnel had never wavered in his admiration of the Targaryen. A Winged-Knight-Come-Again. Perhaps he could ride a dragon of his own one day.
Ronnel was a rowdy lad and by the time he was of squiring age, he was content to leave the rule of his lands to his mother and whoever she picked as an advisor. Lords such as Lyn Egen, Willem Ryger, and Rodrik Templeton would come to advise the young lord or hawk with him. Lord Mathos Grafton became the most prominent of that cadre, his wisdom in old age allowing him more room for criticism. Ronnel wanted to while his time away with falconry and training, while the old lord reminded him of the issues that Targaryen reign brought.
At four-and-ten, Ronnel stole away from the Eyrie and gathered what boys and knights he could to face the mountain clans. He knew what war was; it was the Root Father and his savages, stealing and laying waste to the lands he was sworn to protect. It was in the throes of battle that Ronnel would be dubbed as a knight by some unknown dying man. The knighthood was left unmentioned, though the purpose he found for his rule—no, his guardianship—lingered.
In his victorious return to the Eyrie, Ronnel would be clouted on the ear for the stunt then barred from leaving for months. Visenya Targaryen landed once more in the Vale. This time, she took it as a home, and she was welcomed with open arms. Aegon’s heir was born in the Eyrie that year, dubbed as Laenor Targaryen and soon practically adopted by the Arryns as their younger sibling. Sharra would grow close to the dragon queen in the years to come.
A year later, Ronnel was sent to King’s Landing to squire for Orys Baratheon. Only a few months elapsed before he grew incensed with the Hand over one thing or another, and the squireship ended when the Arryn came to blows with his knight-master. Ronnel was sent back to the Vale, where he earned his spurs once more. Publicly this time, before a crowd of tourneygoers and then holding a vigil with oaths modeled after those of the Winged Knights.
Though he gave off the impression of a true knight by that time, he was more preoccupied with wine and women and the hunt than statecraft. In any room he entered, he laughed the loudest, boasted the loudest, fought the hardest, always with Marq at his side. Nothing but a scolding from his mother Sharra or a clout on the ear from his second mother Visenya could fetter him. He was a falcon, and he flew high and bright.
Such a lofty stature is bound to attract envy. As any elder brother would, he butted heads with his siblings often. His rivalry with his brother Jonos was much more than a sibling spat, however, though the nature and root of their rivalry is unknown to all but a select few. In later years, their quarrels grew louder and their rifts deeper, with Jonos having been sent thrice to play second fiddle to the Knight of the Bloody Gate, and threatened with taking the black twice as many times. Still, their early quarrels proved to be mere distractions, and they wreaked what havoc boy-lords would in taverns and winesinks.
But his lip had to become stiff the day his mother died, just a few months after he came of age and assumed power. Sharra Arryn's last words of advice ate away at his spirit.
"Kill the boy."
So he was offered at the altar, and so did Rhaenys Targaryen seize the opportunity. Ronnel Arryn would be wed to the Queen’s lady-in-waiting, Serena Stark, and that match was confirmed by Sharra’s will. Yet numb, he received his wife to be in Gulltown with courtesy, and they were wedded with haste. Once a Princess of the North and now the Lady of the Vale, Serena found no home in the Eyrie. Ronnel came to avoid her; going on hunts, staying at the Moongates or even the Bloody Gate, and offering only short conversation in their rare meetings.
It came to a head when Serena stated her intention to return to Winterfell. Ronnel gave a shrug in response, and asked when she wanted to depart. Jonos could be his heir if need be, and his mother’s death still dragged his thoughts, so why bother at all?
The intervention of one dragon queen then another halted the split: Visenya reminded Ronnel that Aegon made two marriages work at once. A raven carrying a letter from Queen Rhaenys arrived, affixed with a ring wrought of Valyrian steel. Ronnel gave it to Serena as a peace offering.
There was no parting from the Targaryens’ grand plans, it seemed. So Ronnel’s marriage with Serena began anew. She would be introduced to the Vale and its customs with feasts and tourneys, sitting on councils and holding court as the Lady of the Vale. In the same vein, more familiar items and furnishings were brought in from the North, and Ronnel would journey to the weirwood tree that the mountain clans held sacred to try to pray with his wife. He did not hear the old gods’ whispers and could not bear the stillness, but the two came to understand one another, and their marriage grew warm. Their first child, Robar Arryn, was born a year later, and the Tourney by the Maiden’s Bay would be held in his honor.
Ronnel settled into his reign. His liveliness returned, though boyish pursuits were restrained with fatherhood. He replaced the Keeper of the Gates of the Moon after the Cavaliers proved more competent, sent tax collector after tax collector when Witch Isle grew silent (and nearly called the banners before being dissuaded), and ensured that the mountain clans and any other would-be invaders were quelled while Lae Targaryen was raised to be a greater king than their father. The Brotherhood of the Winged Knights, once decrepit, grew stronger after pieces of the Winged Knight’s armor were found.
His second child, a daughter, would be born then. Faced with the choice of naming her after Sharra or Visenya, she would instead be named after her great-grandmother Cynthea. Artos Arryn would follow four years later, his name chosen by the Lady Arryn.
Another day in the Eyrie. Five-and-twenty years after Aegon's Conquest, and near thirty years into Ronnel's reign. He slides a razor over his cheek and coughs once into a fist. Ronnel opens his palm to see droplets of blood. He wipes his cheek. A shaving cut, no doubt and no matter.
The next week while he sups with his family, the coughs come back. He excuses himself, blames his trip to the valleys with a chuckle, and Jonos meets his gaze with a sidelong glance before shirking away.
He sees his maester without telling anyone. And once more after a hunt. Soon, he is left sitting on his bed with grains of sweetsleep in hand and a warning: he would die. And soon.
Ronnel Arryn is honorable. He is just, or at least just enough. But when he bounces his son on his knee and looks into smiling grey eyes where his Stark mother's are oft stern, he wonders whether the next Targaryen to come to the Eyrie would let little Artos fly or burn him and his family whole.
It is not enough. Ronnel Arryn is not just enough. As the last king yet walking on the earth of this damnable regent's kingdom, he needs to ensure that the next monarch in Laenor Targaryen sits firmly on the Iron Throne before he dies—honor be damned if need be, by any means fucking necessary. That is his duty to the realm. That is his duty to his wife and children, and that will be his legacy.

Timeline

• 8-9 BC (33 now idk how BC works): Born the first child to King Joffrey I and Queen Sharra Arryn.
• 3 BC: Joffrey I dies of a chill. Ronnel is crowned king at age six.
• 1 BC: After House Grafton’s fleet is burned, the armies of the Guarded Domains gather at the Bloody Gate. Visenya’s landing.
• 2 AC: The Three Sisters burn.
• 4 AC: Ronnel begins squiring for Elbert Waynwood.
• 6 AC: Ronnel fights his first battle against the Sons of the Tree, and undergoes his first dubbing.
• 7-9 AC: Visenya arrives at the Eyrie. Ronnel departs for King’s Landing to squire for Orys Baratheon, returning after a fight with his knight-master. He is knighted once more at a tourney.
• 10-11 AC: Sharra Arryn dies, and the Arryns’ grief is cut short by a match arranged by Rhaenys and approved by the Lady-Regent before her death. Serena Stark and Ronnel Arryn are wed, and the marriage nearly falls apart before the intervention of the dragon queens.
• 12 AC: Robar Arryn is born. The Tourney by the Maiden’s Bay is called in the new heir's honor.
• 13 AC: The Cavaliers fight off the Painted Dogs outside the Gates of the Moon, and are given wardenship over them as reward. Marq Hardyng begins pursuing the tourney circuit.
• 15 AC: Cynthea Arryn is born.
• 19 AC: Artos Arryn is born.
• 23 AC: With Jonos Arryn settling into a discontent life at the Bloody Gate, the need for a sworn sword is lessened. Marq Hardyng travels to Essos to search for clues linking the Winged Knight to the Andal conquerors. He finds none, and returns a year later.
• Early 25 AC: An illness wells in Ronnel’s lungs. His maester tells him that he has about a year to live.
• Late 25 AC: The Arryns travel to the celebration near King’s Landing.

Sup porting Characters

• Cortnay Arryn, 54 (General): Ronnel’s uncle. Once a prince, Cortnay served variously as the Knight of the Gate, the Captain of the Guards, or an advisor. Cortnay is known for his exasperated sighs, and struggles to keep up when he hunts with his nephew. Still, he has a good head for tactics and participated in actions against the Mountain Clans and the Hoares.
• Jasper Arryn, 19 (General): Ronnel’s second cousin. Though removed from the main line of House Arryn, Jasper was raised in the Gates and remained a fixture in the Arryn household. He swore vows modeled after the Ash-Branded, though his cheery disposition seems to contradict them.
• Cynthea Corbray, 78 (N/A): The Queen-Grandmother claims to have been asleep when Visenya landed in the Eyrie, and preserved her coronet by hiding it in the Gates. She resides at the Gates of the Moon with the Cavaliers, and it has become tradition to pay one’s respects to her when passing through.
• Jonos Arryn, 31 (N/A): In another world, Jonos would be known as the Kinslayer, and he certainly possesses that propensity. Wed to Maris Grafton and perhaps favored by her lord grandfather, he has long since hated the Targaryens, and blames Visenya for his true mother’s death. Jonos’ truculence precedes him, and he is kept fettered with thankless offices.

I just need to vent. Every year my mother and I go to a mothedaughter banquet at my Grandmother's Lutheran church. We are NOT Lutheran, I'm not even Christian but I go because I love my Mammaw and what can I say Lutheran women know how to cook. I have a SD for mobility. My mother knows this. I have had him for 2 years now. At first my own parents were skeptical about my need for him but after witnessing me fall and how I struggled to get around without him after respecting their wishes to not bring him to their private home and stress out their senior chihuahua. (I brought a walker instead that day and my 4 year old knocked me over and I nearly fell into a wood stove) they have changed their attitudes entirely and are now firmly on my side.
My Mammaw and my aunt have never witnessed me fall and are still of the mind that I dont need him and have even said so to my husband. It finally came to a head today when both my aunt and grandmother called me and told me not to bring my SD to the banquet "because there would be food there."
Immediately my hackles were raised, but I calmly pointed out that he is trained to go into restaurants and would not beg at the table if that was their concern. They told me that wasn't it, they just "didnt know what the other ladies of the church would think." That actually hurt me because on that side of my family Deschends Muscular Dystrophy runs genetically. Both my Grandmother and Aunt are carriers of the gene. Thankfully my father didnt have it so I am not a carrier but my aunt had a son that did and he has since passed from it. He spent most his life in a wheelchair and I have MANY other male relatives on that side in wheelchairs and that have died from it. So I VERY Bluntly asked my grandmother if she was ashamed that her GRANDDAUGHTER is also disabled like so many boys are in our family because I thought if anything it would make them MORE accepting." My grandmother said, actually pretty angrily, that she wasn't ashamed of me being disabled. So I asked what the ACTUAL issue was then and she said she just wasnt sure how comfortable the other people at the banquet would be about a dog being there.
I took a deep breath and simply said "Mammaw, it is not the job of the disabled to make sure the rest of the world is comfortable with their disability."
My aunt took that opportunity to pipe up and say. "Why can't you just respect other people's wishes for one day? You don't even go to that church?"
I asked her "Why is it considered disrespectful for ME to comfortably get around? The church is a public place. Aliester is a fully trained Service Dog. By Federal Law he can go anywhere that I go. I respect Mammaw's wishes not to bringnhim to her house and instead bring a walker but a walker is bulky and cumbersome, especially at a banquet hall full of people. He is my mobility device. Would we be having this conversation if I used a wheelchair to get around instead?"
My aunt said "No, I don't have a problem with people in wheelchairs."
And I said. "Then you are a hypocrit. And you work in a hospital." She got angry and hung ip the phone on me.
My mom told me this will be the last year we do the banquet if they want to fight me over it this much. We'll mention something to the pastor about being unwelcome and won't come back.

Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
The Colonel’s tent was leaking again. Ordinarily such a mistake would’ve earned his adjutant an hour-long dressing down and possibly, if the Colonel was feeling particularly enthusiastic, a sharp backhanded slap across the face. After all, a leaky tent could hardly be said to be hermetically sealed, now could it? But this affront to his sensibilities paled in comparison to the utter travesty and exemplar of sheer incompetence that now sat before his desk, a sagging wreck of a man in the tattered uniform of a Fleet officer. Colonel Moch Leelan curled his lip at it and barked:
“Once more, if you please. And I don’t want this on record,” he added, darting a look at the clerk poised to take dictation in the corner of the room, “Not a word of this gets out. There’s been enough of a snafu already, and the brass won’t stop shitting down my neck about Mound 13 and the loss of Prota’s pestilential pet project. Did you hear me, man? I said start from the beginning!”
Outside the monsoon was intensifying into one of those proverbial downpours which prompted doddering old men to remark that it was ‘raining cats and dogs’, though what either a cat or a dog were, none could now say. A trickle of it seeped in like a string of winking glass beads, catching the orange glow of the gas lamp and turning into sparks of amber, into seeds of flame. They dripped on the bald man seated on the low footstool, and he raised his head to meet the scornful gaze of the Colonel, grey eyes unabashed and unafraid. He spoke then, in a hoarse voice that matched his pallid flesh and buzzard nose:
“It was the third day of reconnaissance. We were forced to abandon our pack-beasts in the mire. My assistant and I—”
“Name, rank and serial number!” Colonel Leelan interrupted, for the sole purpose of seeing the coward blink and quaver like the worm he was. But in that he was to be disappointed, for the man continued in the same flat tone:
“Sollem Deschane, Lord Navigator, 3^rd Pathfinder Regiment, serial number 18911944. We received orders from the Admiralty and Fleet Command to reconnoiter the area around the enemy concentration designated as Mound Euler. I was to lead a platoon of twenty handpicked volunteers across the river Foss at its lowest point, then scale the outlying cliffs to get better readings as we mapped out the approaches to Mound Euler. It was the third day of reconnaissance. We were forced to abandon our myropods in the mud and carry our own gear. My assistant navigator Rene Louvoture and I noticed a discrepancy with our visually confirmed data and the aerial sketches of the Aeronautical Division. We quickly worked out that the enemy concentration far exceeded initial estimates by an order of magnitude. Mound Euler is an omega-class colony the likes of which the Fleet has faced only once in its entire existence, during the Scouring of Assail. It is my belief that—”
“Leave your hysterics for later and get on to meat of things,” Leelan snapped. Deschane straightened a bit in his seat and scowled as his layers of bandages shifted. The man was practically mummified by the sheer extent of his wounds that it was a wonder he had managed to limp into the tent in the first place. But the navigator had made a point of refusing to be debriefed in his sick bed and had insisted that he be given no further pain killers. This was to prove that his report was not at all influenced by the effects of opiates, as well as to underline the supposed importance of his eyewitness account as the sole survivor of the siege of Mound 13.
But Colonel Leelan was no fool. He knew the tactic for what it was: a bit of playacting by a soon-to-be-disgraced officer, a desperate attempt to pass himself off as a tragic hero rather than the author of the most monumental military cock-up of the decade.
You may very well get that wish, Deschane, Leelan smirked inwardly. If you play your cards right. You’ll find that I can put on a pantomime as well as the next man.
Deschane regarded him cooly, replying:
“You asked for my report, sir. I am stating the facts as I understand them.”
“Understand?” Leelan guffawed, “There’s precious little to understand about this debacle! Explain to me how a routine scouting mission winds up in the loss of 5,000 men, a Rear-Admiral and an entire frontline outpost! Explain to me how you not only got every last one of your own men slaughtered, but still managed to save your own sorry arse!”
Now that had an effect on the navigator’s bearing. He dropped the holier-than-thou attitude and even pretended to dab at some moisture in corners of his eye. For a moment his mask of iron cracked and he looked tired enough to sleep for a thousand years, never to waken. Then he seemed to recall that his career was at stake and had the temerity to argue with the Colonel:
“We were given faulty intelligence. I made mistakes, I’ll admit that here and now. We should never have continued after our pack animals were trapped in the mire. The gear slowed us down in enemy territory. I can’t wash my hands of the loss of my platoon. They were the best and bravest men I ever fought with, and I will carry the shame of losing them to my grave. The fact that I am still alive when none of them are breathing is an accident that was not of my choosing. As for Mound 13, it was only a matter of time before they were discovered and dealt with. They were only two day’s travel from Mound Euler. In fact, it was miracle they managed to exist for so long undetected.”
Magnificent deflection. Colonel Leelan had to admire the snake and his flawless attempt to pass the blame onto the shoulders of the dead Rear-Admiral Prota.
Yes, I think we can make an arrangement here, the Colonel thought wryly. He waved Deschane’s prattling aside and said:
“This omega-class colony of yours. A mound so large that is beggars belief, you say? Curious, then, that such an object should have escaped your keen senses for three whole days!”
“Visibility in that terrain and climate is poor. But yes, it was another one of my errors.”
“I’m so glad that you agree,” Leelan purred, his words dripping with condescension. He reached into the drawer of his desk and took out a bottle of fermented honeydew. Uncorking it with a loud pop, he poured out two glasses and lifted one to his lips, saying:
“On a related note, it’s funny how the fog of war can obscure so many important details. Even the best commanders can lose their bearings, lose sight of the greater picture, fixate on the wrong things. Take our dearly departed Rear-Admiral Prota, for example (may she rest in the Flight Eternal). Not to speak ill of the dead, but she was assigned an entire sector for her research into enemy behavior. And what does she do with it? Cultural studies! Anthropology! As if the Amits have a culture worth sneezing at! They’ve been working with flint and wood since this primeval war of ours began, and they’ve never taken the hint. Meanwhile, we’ve finally gained the advantage of powder and artillery and mass-produceable gas masks.”
“One big push! That’s all it would take to clear the northern highlands. We have the men, the will and the technology to do it! The last thing we need is some starry-eyed academic telling us that the Amits have somehow found religion. I mean, really!” Colonel Leelan warmed to his subject, “Five thousand soldiers dedicated to safeguarding some blessed cave paintings, right on the frontlines, too! What a waste. Like you said: if you hadn’t led the Amits directly to them, someone else would have down the line.”
“We took steps to ensure they wouldn’t follow us. We tried, but they found the fear-death pheromones—”
“Steps?” Leelan pressed him mercilessly, “What steps, exactly?”
Deschane looked away and said nothing. Leelan sniffed, continuing:
“I thought so. As I was saying, Prota’s project was doomed from the start. It was an ill-conceived, harebrained mission, and now the Admiralty will have to explain to Fleet Command and the general public how it lost an entire regiment in the name of some woman’s flight of fancy. But there is a silver lining to all this. Seeing as how we recaptured what was left of Mound 13 within mere hours of it falling, we think there’s a way to salvage the situation after all. You can be part of that, Deschane. Every victory may have its price, but it must also have its heroes.”
Leelan sipped his honeydew, waiting for the offer he’d made to sink in. Deschane smiled, a humorless crack in his granite features.
“You’re going to make me a hero?” he asked. Leelan nudged the other glass towards him, shrugging:
“And why not? Someone has to wear the medals. ‘Lone Survivor of Desperate Last Stand’,” Leelan exclaimed, dramatically forecasting the future headlines, “He tried to warn them, but did they listen? You get the rest, I imagine. We’ll have to improve some of the details, of course. Like how it was the 3^rd Pathfinder Regiment which held back the flood of Amits in the final hour and ignited the fortress’ ammo depot—”
“We never did that,” Deschane objected, rudely cutting off Leelan’s train of thought, “It was the Divine Engine. I saw it with my own eyes. It broke out of Mound 13 and slaughtered the enemy.”
Leelan sighed.
“Not this again. Deschane, I’d appreciate it if you’d save your hallucinations for the regimental shrink. Think, man! The honor of our unit is at stake here. You have a chance to redeem the men of your platoon, even if you can never truly redeem yourself.”
“I saw it,” Deschane growled, and for a moment Leelan almost reached for his ceremonial saber hanging by its belt on his coatrack, “Sir, it left footprints the size of—”
“For heaven’s sake, you witless worm, the earthquake was felt all the way in the Southern Delta! Not very big one, but certainly enough to account for the avalanches and landslides that took place around Mound 13, not to mention the sinkhole we found you snoring in! It’s certainly not the first time an uncontrolled detonation triggered a seismic event. Deschane, I’ll only say this once: either you get your story straight or by thunder, I’ll bury you so deep in shit you’ll start to think you’re made of it! And you are! If you breathe a word of this delirious vision of yours to the press, you’ll not only receive no medals, but I’ll have you court-martialed faster than you can say ‘diddly-squat’. Which is precisely what you’ll be left with unless you jump like a good boy and ask how high. No honor, no rank, no reputation, no pension. Nothing! Do you understand?”
Colonel Leelan wrathfully thrust the glass at Deschane, spilling most of it in the process.
“Well, do you?”


Deschane hobbled out of the tent, escorted by a pair of grenadiers in fluffy white shakos. They sealed the adhesive lining of the tent airlock after him and the Navigator went on his way, the taste of honeydew lingering on his tongue like a bitter poison. He lifted his mask and hawked up a gob of spit that eloquently described his opinion of the colonel, wiping his scowling mouth with the back of his hand.
Ven was waiting for him with the crutches, a young and rather portly corporal with apple cheeks and a worried, pouting mouth. She helped Deschane as he made the slow and painful walk across the encampment to his field tent, the lord navigator deep in thought. Along the way they cut across the central avenue of the camp where a seemingly endless artillery train was lumbering its way up from the south and curving around the broad talus skirts of Gorgo Plateau, teams of scuttling myropods hitched to six or twelve-pounder guns, their hundreds of tiny legs threshing the soil into a quagmire. Behind them, plodding dejectedly into the rapidly liquefying mud, were ranks upon rank of fresh colonial levees, their brand-new sealant suits creaking loudly at the joints as they made what for most of them would be their first expedition into the surface world.
And what a foray it would prove to be. Almost two hundred thousand men amd women were mustered here at the edge of civilization, poised on the cusp of what was to be the largest surface offensive in recorded history. The Fleet had arrived in the Northern Hinterlands, and it had come to conquer.
"Gangway!" the levees hollered at Ven as she tried to cut a path for Deschane through the line, "Can't you see we's marching 'ere, ya stoopid bint?"
"He's an officer, ain't he?" she screamed back, pointing at the navigator.
Upon noticing the faded chevrons on Deschane's shoulders some of them clumsily snapped to attention, stopping in their tracks. Their comrades behind them, oblivious to this turn of events, bowled right into them, causing a minor stampede. Men and women cursed as they dropped their pristine muskets, never fired in the heat of battle, into the churning soup at their feet, or themselves went sprawling on their hands and knees. Baton-wielding sergeants descended on the mess, screaming for them to get back up, generously assisting them with a boot to the rump or a smack on the side of the head. Deschane looked back at the display for a long moment, as if considering something. Abruptly he grunted at Ven and they continued on their way to the outskirts where the Pathfinders were billeted.
She waited until they were inside the tent and Deschane was back in his sick bed, the navigator turning his back to her in stony silence. Cautiously, she ventured:
“What now, sir?”
“Draw up a list of volunteers,” he rasped, “But do it on the sly. We’re going back out there."
"Very good, sir," Ven squeaked, and went scurrying out of the navigator's chambers, sealing the tent flap softly behind her. She knew that tone and what it signified: the lord navigator had made up his mind, and heaven help whoever would stand in his way.
Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

Red Seas Under Red Skies by Scott Lynch, Reminiscence: By Their Own Rope to Chapter 7
Welcome back to Tal Verrar, where the artifice is real and the pirates are fake. Let's see if we know the Gentlemen Bastards’ business this week.
Summary
Six months since the last Reminiscence, Locke has locked up the mysterious chairs and is with Jean in Vo Samara. Jean brought rope which was secured around a thick tree trunk. They're practicing getting to the vault. They used harnesses and a safety line to rappel down the cliff.
Someone calls down to them from the top. He'd steal their coats and chop the ropes. He was a highwayman always on the lookout for people to rob. He called them heretics and cut one of Locke’s lines. Jean tried to throw a knife at him, but only the hilt hit. Then the thief fell off the cliff onto Locke’s harness. Jean grabbed the bandit by the hair, and Locke held a knife to his throat.
His name was Trav, and he was unemployed. Jean made it up first and hauled them up. Locke berates the incompetent thief. He left a purse of silver for him. He could be helpful to them later if he remembered their kindness. It had been eighteen months since anyone tried to kill them.
In the present day, they eat breakfast at The Gilded Cloister. They discuss the attack last night and who might want them dead. Merrain is dressed as a waitress and hands them a bill and a note to meet where they first met. They are on their guard all the way there. They enter an abandoned shop where four men in gray cloaks and hats wait for them. The four men are decoys. Jean and Locke don their own cloaks and hats and get in a carriage.
Merrain is already in their carriage. They will head to the docks. They hoist themselves into a boat filled with rowers. Merrain is the coxswain. They enter the Sword Marina and the stone walls of the bay. A man meets them there and says it's a fool's mission. He's Caldris the ship's master. He leads them to a dinghy in a “pissing-pond” for practice. Stragos had tricked him with poisoned wine, too, so he “volunteered” his services.
Every ship must have a woman officer and a cat for luck. They have a kitten but don't need the woman yet. Caldris cut their palms with a knife and put a slice of bread over it as part of a ritual to the deity Iono Stormbringer. They practice rowing for hours. He bet them that they would capsize, and he won.
Locke is exhausted, but he has to see Requin and give him the chairs and tell him of the voyage. Merrain almost didn't let him go. After two hours, he and the chairs go to see Requin. He waits at the service entrance and pays a servant to get him Selendri. She used to be an Eye of the Archon before her injury.
Requin loves the chairs. Locke says he won them in a card game. He tells Requin that he'll be away for a while to find a lockpicker named “Calo Callas.” Requin makes him promise to tell him of any more plans right away.
They learn how to use a Verrari/Camorri quadrant (sextant) among other navigational instruments, books, and charts. Stragos and Merrain pay a visit to fit his uniform. He must look the part of a Captain at least for a day.
The ship The Red Messenger is in the harbor one day. It was seized from a man who tried to smuggle in stiletto wasps. The enormity of his task hit Locke as he boarded for the first time. Two weeks of training had prepared him to climb the ropes to the mast and sails. Caldris was feeling his age as they climbed down. Luckily the captain and the master stay on deck.
Jean found Locke in a sailor’s bar trying to get drunk and forget anything nautical for a night. (Wrong place for it.) Six watchmen entered and caused tension. The bar patrons were hostile, so one of the watchmen left some money for a round on him and all left. Locke and Jean give their free dark ale to a dockworker woman. The woman was choking and gagging. One the bar workers had put some poison (and not salt) in the drinks!
A ship leech used Locke’s stiletto to perform a tracheotomy on her so she could breathe. It was too late, though. The barkeeper accused the doctor of killing her. The other sailors demand he apologize. Then he drank some ale to prove it wasn't deadly. Jean asked where the second assistant was. Authorities would be called, so Jean and Locke made their exit. The free ale was a cover, and the watchmen were used by someone trying to kill them. The Priori did it.
Jean catches a man in the alleyway. He's an Eye, but who can be sure anymore? They want him to send a message to Merrain that they need a place to stay and protection.
They check out of the inn, and Locke sends a note to Requin. Caldris is even harder on them in his training. All three devise hand signals for when they can't speak among the crew. Caldris and Merrain are impressed by Locke's acting prowess.
Later on, Locke and Jean knock out a guard with a hood full of a sedative. A tower is their destination. Stragos had brought one of his own ships for them to do a demonstration. They sail to Windward Rock where a prison tower stands. That's where Stragos locked up the other Captain for stealing and treachery. He says that this Captain is Locke.
In the tower, Locke hands his papers to a woman who shows them to the lieutenant behind a desk. His pseudonym is Orrin Ravelle. He and Jean are there to see the prisoners. They both attack the guards. A poison called witfrost will put them asleep for the night.
Stragos tells Locke about Highpoint Citadel Gaol and Windward Rock. He has arranged for Ravelle to have a paper trail. He will find his crew in Windward Rock. The prisoners were in one large cell. Locke tells them that he chose them to be his crew. (Stragos chose 44 and made their lives miserable so they would want to leave and be on his crew. Four were women and got too sick, or so he said.)
Locke promises them equal shares of any plunder and freedom from the hell cell. They clamber to join.
Caldris had a bad feeling about the voyage if there won't be any women on board and no basket of cats.
Prisoner Jabril is made acting mate. Two younger prisoners row a boat out to a bigger boat. They all board and sail to the Red Messenger.
Merrain had hidden nearby, and after they all left, she snuck into the tower and killed the guards except the two on the top floor.
Locke pretends to knock out the guard on the ship. Duties are assigned. The guard is placed in the smaller boat. Some of the men were on the ship before and were assigned topmen. So starts their voyage. Locke was having fun playing the part of rogue Captain.
They sight sails on day three, but it's too early to be pillaging. Locke orders them to practice archery. Caldris estimates that they'll make it to the Ghostwinds in two weeks.
The crew drank and partied, playing knife throwing games. Locke saw bioluminescent ghostly things called flit-wraiths. Caldris had seen unbelievable things out on the sea. Two of the islands’ populations were destroyed: one by fire during a war and one by some kind of monster from the jungle.
The crew notices there are no cats. Locke had forgotten them on shore. (Uh-oh!) He tells them they're shy and hiding. Caldris is tired and gets little sleep. He is pissed off that there's no cats. The crew will mutiny if they find out. They'll have to fight another ship just for the cats. (They better hope it rains cats and dogs.)
A storm is brewing. The crew ready the ship and its supplies. Locke and Jean spend rare time alone in the stern cabin. Caldris feebly knocks at the door, and has a heart attack. He dies just as the storm hits. (Double uh-oh!)
Extras
Marginalia
Parts of a ship
Ship's cats
Ship's cats in hammocks
St Corella’s fire is actually St Elmo's Fire.
Larboard used to mean left.
Navigate back here May 23 for Part 2, Chapters 8-11. Questions are in the comments.

So I used to be friends with this girl, and any time she was into a man so say she was into a white man at the start. She would start acting like a white woman and displaying characteristics that are white women would have after she went through really bad break up with these white men, she moved onto black men, and she started displaying qualities and acting however, a black woman would act.
This was after she was going through her break up with her previous ex-boyfriend, which was a white man, and so she seemed very desperate for attention at this time, but even when she was into white guys, she would always ask me to hook her up or set her up with white men that I knew.
So while she was going through her break up with her ex, she started obsessing over black guys and one day. We went out to smoke and we were getting high and because my husband was worried about me being by myself and with my friend and getting high, he wanted to come over make sure that I was okay. A bit of context we were in a lounge and we were both high so my boyfriend decided to join in and get high too. She started flirting with my boyfriend and it was very vague flirting. She was actually just laughing a lot at his jokes she was putting me down to make herself look better by comparing our salaries. There was one moment where she acted as if there was something in between her legs like a mark on her trousers, and she kept rubbing it my husband at the time notice that she was acting very weird so he ended up leaving and after that day I confronted her about it and she said she wasn’t flirting. She was denying all that accusations even though I considered one of my best mates, I couldn’t even bring myself to speak to my husband about it, because I just felt so embarrassed and I just felt like it was feeding his ego.
It’s been a year now and she called me yesterday twice and then she called me today and I didn’t pick up but she messaged me saying hey can we call and I messaged back saying hey what’s it about after a whole day had gone by? I was curious as to why she called me, as I felt like she had something to tell me , so I called her back and she picked up and she said that she called me because she was thinking about me and she wanted to know how I was and I told her how weird it was that she was calling me after so long, but we just started going into a mutual conversation telling each other about our lives, and then I had a dog in the background and she said it was my boyfriend‘s dog And then she goes “guess what my boyfriend is Italian”.
Bearing in mind me her and my husband we are all Italian, but since I’ve been friends with her, she’s always gone on about how she would never go for an Italian guy or a guy that is the same ethnic race as us as she just had a stereotype against Italian guys, and evidently from what I’ve been saying she would go for a guy that is far from our ethnic group. I was obviously very taken aback by this because of how much she said that she would not go for an Italian guy, and because of the way our friendship break up had happened at because of how much she said that she would not go for an Italian guy, and because of the way our friendship break up had happened and the fact that I had stopped speaking to her because I felt like she was flirting with my husband right in front of my face. I just find it so weird that she was thinking about me and when she calls me she tells me that she has an Italian boyfriend. I’m not trying to be cocky or anything or make any assumptions, but I feel as if she wanted what I had during that time, and for some reason she wanted to take that away from me and that obviously to us not being friends anymore, but the fact that she called me just to tell me that I just find it so weird. What do you guys think ?

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!).

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.’”

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

My best friend and I, up until this point, have had a beautiful relationship. Let’s call her Rose. We understand each other as women in a way no one else ever could, and truly I love her to death. We lived in the same city for a year before both moving to slower lifestyles, eventually moving back to the city we love, but together this time! We moved into a shitty apartment with my boyfriend, made do with that for six months, and on May 1 of this year we all moved in to a beautiful home.
Now, I feel like it’s important to mention that my best friend and I both grew up with fathers who are extremely confrontational, even abusive at times. Neither of us respond well to confrontational triggers, but every time we’ve had a disagreement in the past, she’s just left and then we talk about whenever she decides she’s ready.
If you can’t tell already, she’s anxious avoidant, and I’m anxious attachment.
Well, I got invited to a graduation party for one of my friends that my best friend just met for the first time. The graduate friend, we’ll call her Eva, and I have been friends for yeeeeaaars. Longer than me and my best friend have been friends, we just aren’t as close. So this party meant a huge deal to me, since she wasn’t inviting a lot of people and she had things planned for the moment we got there until the moment we left. I asked Eva if I could bring my best friend and my partner, and she said yes! We were all very excited, and I was grateful she was letting me bring extra friends!
Come the day of the party, which we’ve known about for a week now, I ask my best friend if she’s wearing a bathing suit. She says she doesn’t know, so I offer her a couple of my own. Even now, she doesn’t seem very engaged or excited, which is fine, she just got off of work, but I was trying to lift her spirits. She went back and forth with herself on whether she would shower, whether she would wear a bathing suit, whether she would even change. So I let her be in the living room for a while to decide for herself while I went to take a shower.
I got out of the shower probably 15 minutes later and said “Rose, the showers open!” She said “okay!” Got up, went to her room to do what I assumed to be grab a change of clothes or get ready in whatever manner she decided, and then she went back to sit down on the couch. While I’m getting ready, I had to leave my room a couple times to go to the bathroom for things, and each time I left she was just sitting on the couch. Keep in mind, the party starts at 4. It is 3:30 at this point. With an hour drive.
I’m starting to get a little anxious about time, so I asked from the bathroom “Hey are you ready Rose?” And the thing is /I genuinely did not know if she was ready or not/. She had just told me she didn’t know what she would wear, so I didn’t feel uncomfortable asking if she was going to wear what she had on.
She snapped back at me “No?” And something else along the lines of “obviously not” and I started getting more anxious because I wasn’t trying to be rude, I just hate being late. Really bad. And she knows this. I started feeling distressed and I was like “Rose I wasn’t asking to be rude, I just didn’t know.” I then left the bathroom and went to my own room.
She knocks on my door and asks if she can come in. I thought she’d just be getting her purse, but she opened the door and said “Sorry for snapping, but you had an attitude when you asked if I was ready.” I feel confused, because I genuinely didn’t. I was asking because /I didn’t know if she was ready./ I tell her this, and she just starts saying “Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay.” WHILE IM TALKING. This drives me insane. My parents used to do it, so I just shut down. The last thing she pointedly says is, “Try considering me.” I have been!!!! I didn’t say this, and not to be harsh, but try considering that you are a guest of a guest, and we’re already late! And you are making no effort to change that.
I sent her a text about how I appreciate the apology but it hurt my feelings that I wasn’t allowed to share my own thoughts in my own room without getting spoken over, and she responded back with:
“Oh girl. No.. I went in there to speak to you. You never grant me an ear when I want to come to you about a boundary and didn’t even let me get to my point before cutting me off. So I wouldn’t let you get the stage after you didn’t want to hear me? But either way I’m not discussing this through text.” This hurt my feelings for one, because the opening line felt demeaning. The part about “getting the stage” was distilling my frustration into something much more performative than what it was, and when I asked her about what boundary she was setting, she said “I’ve just said I won’t discuss this through text and I’m heated and I don’t wanna talk either.”
This is where things start getting explosive. At this point, Rose, who is meant to be coming with us in one car, is not only not ready, but is refusing to engage with either of us. We don’t know if she’s ready, or at this point if she’s coming, and we are already late.
I’ll admit, this next part was on me. She was in her room with her door closed, and through my frustration I started loudly saying “We’re already late!! I hate being late. It’s disrespectful!!”
And then she was like “Then just fucking leave without me!” Fine. I went to her door and said “Are you coming at all?” She says something I can’t understand behind the door, so I said “Rose?!” And she said, with the most anger I’ve ever heard from her, “BITCH. WHAT?”
Absolutely not. I will not be spoken to like that, especially not as an adult. I say this, and she just starts literally targeting me saying “YOU NEVER FUCKING LOOK IN A MIRROR. YOUVE NEVER EVER ACTUALLY FUCKING LOOK AT YOURSELF.” This is so hurtful, because up until this exact point in time, she has never, EVER, made constructive criticism about the things she was saying. If she truly thought that, I wouldn’t have minded her bringing it up to me. But screaming things like that at me in a moment of anger? Absolutely not okay. And then she kept saying things like “I THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKING LEAVING? WHY DONT YOU JUST FUCKING LEAVE?” Got at least one “FUCK YOU” in there, and other things I can’t even remember because they were so hurtful. However, I don’t think I will ever forget the majority of what she said. It was more than triggering, it hurt.
At 21 years old I haven’t had someone speak to me like that since I lived with my parents.
Yall, it wrecked me bad. I‘ve been so anxious I’ve been hospitalized three times. I’ve thrown up probably over 30 times, and last night I even threw up blood. I doubt she even knows because even though she lives with us, she either goes to her brothers house or she goes in her room and stays there all night. I don’t know how she eats, drinks water, or lets her dog out that she keeps caged up all day just so even HER DOG can’t interact with us. She doesn’t look at my social media, OR our friends social media. She has effectively excommunicated our whole friend group over her own personal issues, that she refuses to communicate.
I debated making this post for so long. I even debated telling our mutuals for days because I didn’t want her not to have her own opportunity to reach out to them. But after four days, she never did. And our closest friend said “no Reddit post will tell you who’s in the wrong. There is no excuse for stonewalling someone for seven entire days.” Which is true. I’m not even religious, and creation according to biblical genesis had already been done by now. This timeline is reaching finality.
I guess my question is, what should I do? I can’t reach out to her saying I want to talk because she’s made it explicitly clear I am not to contact her until SHE is ready, but she has made absolutely no effort to do that. I also don’t know if even want to talk again, because at this point I’m so resentful and I’m not sure what edge could possibly do to rectify that.
Dictionary definition of stonewalling: delay or block (a request, process, or person) by refusing to answer questions or by giving evasive replies. Complete disengagement.
It’s one of the four horsemen of the relationship apocalypse, another being broadly targeted criticisms like “you always,” and “you never,” which she also did.
I’m mostly sad. She is, slowly becoming was, my best friend. Every day she pretends that me or my friends don’t exist I grow more resentment. I haven’t lived a life without her in three years, and now we live together and she’s hurt me beyond repair. Please help with some advice.
TLDR: My best friend irrevocably dented our relationship because of an emotional outburst, followed by cutting me and all my friends off for seven days. We live together. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I want to be friends, every time I see her I want to throw up from anxiety.

I (21f) moved out and live with my bf. My mother works at Walmart and Ross as a side job. My mom continuously asks me for money. Me and my mother don’t have the best history and I personally don’t really like helping her, mostly due to the fact that I was raised poorly by her, my mom is a liar, very too faced women, and when I needed help and was doing things on my own, she didn’t help me.
My mom is a selfish person and if money is involved in anything, she’s a dog. My childhood was rough because of her and unfortunately my sisters will be as well (12 and 7 years old). She always begs my sister dad for money and he gives it to her but she would always use the kids as an excuse. He literally helps her with half of the bills and he gives her money for the kids but we never understood where all the money goes because she’s always crying that she can’t pay her bills, my sisters don’t have the best clothes and they’re always going to school looking a mess. My mom is the worst human being and I have so much resentment for her. She only contacts me when she needs money and will act like she wants to know how I’m doing so she can ask me for money. She’s put us in bad situations that I had to get ourselves out of (almost getting kicked out even though she knew months in advance that landlord was selling the house)
I also hate helping my mother because she never tries to improve herself, she continues her acts because she knows she has support systems in her corner that will help her whenever she needs. I usually feel guilty when I don’t sometimes and end up sending her money anyways. I want to cut her out of my life but I can’t because I don’t want to let my sisters suffer so I try and help them as much as I can. My mom doesn’t do her job as a parent, I resent her so much because she raised my sisters so poorly and I warned her of the outcome and tried to help her parent properly but my mom never listens. I feel bad for my sisters because this isn’t their fault that they’re bad and don’t listen.
Anyway, sorry about the rant but if she would put some effort in improving then ok but she doesn’t. Is it bad that I don’t like helping her and want to just stop?

I (21f) moved out and live with my bf. My mother works at Walmart and Ross as a side job. My mom continuously asks me for money. Me and my mother don’t have the best history and I personally don’t really like helping her, mostly due to the fact that I was raised poorly by her (when I say poorly I mean poorly parenting wise) my mom is a liar, very too faced women, and when I needed help and was doing things on my own, she didn’t help me.
My mom is a selfish person and if money is involved in anything, she’s a dog. My childhood was rough because of her and unfortunately my sisters will be as well (12 and 7 years old). She always begs my sister dad for money and he gives it to her but she would always use the kids as an excuse. He literally helps her with half of the bills and he gives her money for the kids but we never understood where all the money goes because she’s always crying that she can’t pay her bills, my sisters don’t have the best clothes and they’re always going to school looking a mess. My mom is the worst human being and I have so much resentment for her. She only contacts me when she needs money and will act like she wants to know how I’m doing so she can ask me for money. She’s put us in bad situations that I had to get ourselves out of (almost getting kicked out even though she knew months in advance that landlord was selling the house)
I also hate helping my mother because she never tries to improve herself, she continues her acts because she knows she has support systems in her corner that will help her whenever she needs. I usually feel guilty when I don’t sometimes and end up sending her money anyways. I want to cut her out of my life but I can’t because I don’t want to let my sisters suffer so I try and help them as much as I can. My mom doesn’t do her job as a parent, I resent her so much because she raised my sisters so poorly and I warned her of the outcome and tried to help her parent properly but my mom never listens. I feel bad for my sisters because this isn’t their fault that they’re bad and don’t listen.
Anyway, sorry about the rant but if she would put some effort in improving then ok but she doesn’t. Is it bad that I don’t like helping her and want to just stop?
Edit: I see people here saying that I’m upset that she’s poor, I wish I could type my whole life out but I can’t but I’ll give you guys some ideas. She raised me around a bunch of child molesters, in high school I needed her the most I was bad in school, hanging around the wrong crowd, I was crying out for help, when I was sitting in front of her face balling my eyes out telling her how I felt she laughed at me and called me crazy, since that day everything changed, I became a hate filled mess, that day if she would’ve been there for me I feel everything would’ve been different, that day will always be implanted in my brain till the day I die. My whole teenage years I tried building a bond with this women but she would tell me something different then turn her back and talk shit about me to my old step dad. When he was living with us, for years he was molesting me, I told her about it finally when I was 18 years old, instead of kicking him out of the house to protect her youngest daughters, she let him stay and didn’t say anything to him. I always did everything on my own even if it didn’t involve money, everyday when I didn’t have a car and I was taking the bus to and from work in the hot sweating heat, she never tried to help me, she’d get slick with me and give me an attitude. So yes I fucking hate her. I had a discussion with her years ago and told her I am not interested in building a bond but she needs to raise my sisters better then she raised me and she’s doing an awful job at it. She wants to move this random man that she met in Haiti into our home with my little sisters, she has no sort of awareness and I had to scream at her that I am not allowing her to let that random man in the house. (Maybe he isn’t that kind of guy but my mom is careless and I want to protect my sisters as much as I can) My mom cares about men more than she does her own daughters which is why I’ve been molested multiple times as a kid. For years I have been trying to teach my mother on how to be a mother, she could care less. So everyone jumping to conclusions that I hate my mom because she’s poor can fuck off, if anything I’ll take being in poverty if it means I’d be protected and loved by my mother.
There’s more to this but I needed her as a mother since I was young and she was never there so I don’t feel I should be for her either, I’m sticking around to help my sisters as much as I can but my mom can suffer for all I care.

• Transphobic video using the word "tr***y"
• Referencing drag queens as clowns
• Doesn't disclose that reviews were really paid ads Edited her body for an Aerie ad, which is a brand that supposedly prides themselves on using real bodies.
• Was blocking and ignoring customers who purchased her Glamlite Paht 2 collection, never received their order, and asked about it. All of this while Glamlite was siphoning stock to CVS and also ignored customer inquiries about their overdue orders.
• Along with CVS, broke their "Beauty Unaltered" pledge by creating a display unit that is obviously filtered of the Trash Goblin’s face.
• Committed fraud by pledging that 50% of the proceeds from the Paht 2 collection would be donated to women's healthcare after the Dobbs decision. When anyone commented to ask about it, they were banned from her socials. This one is the most egregious, as there are people who might have purchased solely based on her pledge. She lied about not getting paid yet to make the donation just as the CVS distribution happened.
• She's myopic and doesn't care about her supporters, as she continually discusses her ED without the common courtesy of a trigger warning like most creators do for subjects like this. Her explanation for why she doesn't give a TW? "It doesn't trigger me, so fuck all of you." She's so disrespectful of Cody's sobriety.
• Does giveaways by making followers jump through engagement hoops to boost her profile but then didn't deliver on the giveaways.
• Begging... BEGGING.. followers on her broadcast channel to drop an emoji as a comment to inflate her engagement rate, as comments are engagement rate gold for getting paid.
• Claims she donates extra product to women's shelters, and then went on Instagram asking for suggestions on where in her area she can donate women's clothes. She's so fucking dense that she either doesn't realize the same places she supposedly donates product to is a good first start, or she outed herself as never donating before like she said she did if she doesn't know where to donate clothes locally.
• She's a terrible brand ambassador, which is on her and DBA. She went on a free Paris trip sponsored by Caudalie, and she shit talked how broken out her skin got on the trip (with the assumption she was using their products and services) and never once really hyped the brand that was paying for her to be there.
• Took money from Briogio for a campaign and at the same time posted videos about her hair falling out. She's so dumb she doesn't realize that she caused a causation comparison.
• She's lying about having clients, paying clients that aren't her friends and family. She is not a MUA or a certified in MA to do makeup.
• She brigades brands who don't do her bidding like a brat. Pottery Barn in the middle of the pandemic had shipping and quality issues. She sent her followers after them and then begged PB for more free stuff.
• She has her friends like HeartofGreg comment on her videos, which she then stiches the comment to review a product. She then takes that video and shops it to the brand to get them to sponsor the video.. and a few weeks later the video resurfaces as partner, paid partnerships, sponsorship.
• Tax fraud when handling gratis, expenses, and giveaways
• Did a giveaway for Chanel bags with Chris Appleton (Color Wow) and the Boston's Children's Hospital, which was against GoFundMe's Terms of Service. She never gave the winners their prize.
• Dogs a brand who sent her free items but then turns around and praises the brand when they pay her (She did it with Essence and KVD).
• Did a bunch of fake "pick out my wedding makeup" when she 100% knew what she was using including the fact that e.l.f. sponsored her wedding as a brand event. She says that's not true, but I can guarantee e.l.f. writes off the expenses they incurred for her wedding as a business expense.
• Lied about her YouTube page being her page. She feverously uploaded videos when she took her 5:19, baby tantrum, pity party break from TikTok but still needed to earn money. She uploaded her TikTok videos to YouTube, lied that it was her channel, and made money. If it wasn't her channel, you know she and DBA would file a cease and desist .. and win it.. to get the channel removed. It's her channel.
• Her filter usage is fraud. Period. There is no debating it. When you are getting paid to review products and apply a filter on your face and body, you are committing fraud. The viewer thinks it's the product making that effect and not really the software engineering team that created the editing app.
• With the PeeeLouish collab, they were caught pre-applying swatches from the P.Louise palette. She's also not really applying makeup in her videos. Cheeks, bronzer, and eyes are being applied off screen and she's swiping a brush making it look like she's applying it. Another sign she can't do professional makeup at all. It's all fake.
• Every ”in the wild” picture that’s not filtered shows the truth.
• She constantly lurks on other creators pages to find commenters to block when they shit talk her. Insecure much? She’ll unblock people to snark them and lurk, then block them again. We know she does this with Rich Lux.
• She supports James Charles. The grifting carnival barker loves the groomer trash.
• Community Contribution: She shits on her estranged half sister to her millions of followers, when all the evidence points to her sister being frozen out of their family at the age of 14. She claims her sister walked out of their lives because she “wasn’t the precious daughter of the family anymore” after Mikayla was born, and also talks badly about her sister for being on disability. Mikayla is an aunt to two girls, but I doubt she’s ever cared nor met them. Her sister also lived and lives right down the road from Mikayla’s parents home.
• She’s a known bully and coming from someone who’s now being regarded as an ED spokesperson. She told her friend that drinking hot chocolate would be “200 very unnecessary calories”, and that she was “just trying to help since you’re trying to lose weight” with that comment. She’s a mean girl, and she always has been.
• She cries about shade range while she brags about being soooo pale (um, really?). She releases collabs that are not inclusive for POC. She then brags about buying out and hoarding darker foundations and concealers to use as bronzers meaning the very little stock available for darker skin tones becomes even more scarce when her idiot stans buy up the product. She also blackfishes.
• She can't admit when she's wrong and aggressively lashes out to those trying to point it out. She called a comb and brush, and when corrected in her comments, she was incredibly rude to her own followers. You know, the people engaging with her content that's paying her mortgage. She is incapable of saying, "oops, my bad." Her integrity is crap for this behavior.
• Just like the above, the unwillingness to admit a simple mistake turned her into an ableist POS. There are those with low vision or no vision who listen to TikToks and rely on accuracy in speech and closed captions. Her "go fuck yourself, bro" attitude when called out about the comb incident made her incredibly ableist.
• She creates rage bait content to generate engagement gold via angry comments. This makes her a carnival barking grifter.
• She begs for engagement on her broadcast channel trying to force things to go viral like "nice and shaaaahhp." It's actually pathetic watching her do this.
• Used a derogatory term used to reference Travelers/Romani people and doubled down on it when people called her out and educated her on the use of the word.
• Lied about creating some Mother's Day shopping spree for a "family in need" saying that when she heard their story, she knew she just had to help. When asked in the comments about the story, she played the, "It's not my story the tell." Come to find out, the story is that the child goes to the school that Mikayla's mom works at. There was a raffle at the school, and one of the prizes was a $500 shopping trip with MikPickMe. The girl's mom paid for 40 entries to win the raffle, and she did. The only reason the shopping was done on Mother's Day was due to conflicting schedules. This was not a shopping spree for a family in need. It was a prize from a raffle that Mikayla's mommy had a hand in.
• MikLieHole took Rael's money and trip and went in days earlier with her emotional support animal, Codypendency, and did meetings with a competitor, Tirtir. Tirtir gifted her a Birkin while in South Korea, too.

I started this timeline with a few main dates in my last post, then it became this big garbage fire of madness. For the foreseeable future, I will edit this with relevant updates. Feel free to call out any additions in the comments. 🚩 Trigger warning note: At this point, Brittany is a walking red flag. Please be mindful before proceeding if you have triggers for the themes mentioned in the title.

The Timeline

• January (date unknown): Jdip finds out from his doctor that he has a sperm count of basically zero, and they discuss lifestyle modifications. *This had not been shared until 4/25 in the following video https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/01YWgcJgyb
• ⁠1/30: Brittany announces they’re officially doing IUI, which she learned after her “WOMEN’S WELLNESS EXAM.” Lmao so you got a Pap smear and a referral to a specialist? https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/DhUvDfPPRL
• 2/15, give or take a few days: got a call from adoption agency right after their joint ~3 hour long~ FIRST FERTILITY APPOINTMENT
• ⁠2/22: says “a week ago today” (↑) they had their first fertility appointment and got some good news and some bad news, but “everything looks great” for Britt. An adoption agency called her that same day. https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/rWCMuAjt4b
• ⁠3/11: Niko the Pitbull is found at a dumping ground in Texas while Brittany arrives in Breckenridge for a week of glamour shots. This blows up all over Reddit and TikTok https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/3GDuz1Kp8n
• 3/11 adoption announcement #1: at night, jordan allegedly tells the proud boys that they are adopting https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/pcVlvUjb2B
• 3/12: adoption announcement #2: during breakfast in Breck, Britt announces that she’s “paper pregnant” 😑 to her friends, and shows them an image of a sonogram. In the video @ 2:52, she writes, “we acted like nothing was wrong” when they appeared for breakfast… what was wrong britt? Your abandoned dog spoiling your vacay? Or were you and J fighting because he spilled the beans (since we all know you don’t give a fuck about Niko)? https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/pcVlvUjb2B
• ⁠3/13 or 3/14: while in Breckenridge, Brittany and Jordan film a video about their fertility journey being hard on their marriage, and they start hinting at male factor infertility. https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/EWohGKXcP7
• 3/24: adoption announcement #3: at BDong’s bday party; she announces adoption of a baby girl to her pregnant friend Jamie. Jamie claims God already told her Brittany was gonna have a daughters. https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/sutRZIeRu4
• ⁠3/25: she posts the “Jordan opens up” video that was filmed in Breck https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/EWohGKXcP7
• 3/30: Brittany hams it up with the empty nursery content. “yEs We HaVe aN EmPtY nUrSeRy. YEs iTs iN FaiTh tHaT wE wiLL oNe DaY bE ParEnTs” https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/2RfpXq9Vdz
• ⁠4/1: Jordan hangs out in the nursery to journal for some ~unknown~ future faith baby. https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/l2zBGvJt0x
• 4/2: a car seat appears, further supporting the home study occurring around this time https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/Kgdpi9mpRB
• 4/3: Britt posts a slideshow of texts from jordan reminding her to eat, including one that shows a triple text from Brittany and his response, “I’m sorry sweetheart. I believe you.” https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/1lfGXhjPju
• ⁠4/5: Home Study? It appears they had the home study for adoption on this day based on her outfit. They shoot sunrise parking garage adoption announcement pics, then B has breakfast with Hannah Rosie. B tells her Hazel & Layne cronies that she was matched with a birth mom “a week ago,” which would mean she actually matched with a birth mom the last week of March. https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/h2yJ6oAJeG)
• 4/6 car seat has been removed, baby mirror spotted in car https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/iWqPtPYuVo … car seat removal further supports the home study occurring on 4/5. Brittany sells her ultrapoor car seat because she gOt a NuUunAaaa https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/DhH3wphsjT
• 4/6, continued: The pick me chicks appear to be fighting. Farryn and Kellie post stories together about how REAL friends show up, have difficult conversations, and don’t use “christianese” https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/0NVaPbkWu2
• ⁠4/7: Brittany cries for the camera because God had the audacity to not give her a baby yet. (Crying selfie w/ caption about “TTC emotions”) https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/OGgOMdnLBS
• ⁠4/7: Brittany posts about how she thought she would have a baby by her 33rd bday, but all she has is “unexplained infertility.” HUH? That’s not the same as male factor infertility. https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/LishlaLlZe
• 4/11: the girlies are back and drinking Sonic from styrofoam cups because ~non toxic living~ amiriteeee?! https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/nTqcC1lvZT
• 4/16: she can’t wait for Harley to be her “daughter’s” horse one day. Can’t wait to “watch my little girl bond” with this horse https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/nBliYMm6PM
• 4/25 good news from the fertility specialist because BritBrat is God’s favorite. After running more tests on Jordan, they’re suddenly “good to go now.” They will be pursuing IUI. Britt states in this video that J initially was found to have “0% sperm” back in January. https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/pW0mbEXtIs + https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/bIgSeOhHGt
• 4/29 last blood work before starting IUI https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/86u862Y1n5
• ⁠4/30 public adoption YewTewbb announcement: they’re “flip flopping” and adopting! On IG, she posts the parking garage adoption announcement pics from 4/5 https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/juSs39NECv
• 5/2: posts on YouTube that “things are moving fast” in TTC land… “Jordan’s tests came back great and we’re still moving forward with IUI.” Brittany and Jordan are preparing their bodies for IUI… she says she doesn’t know if this adoption will go through, or maybe it will, and maybe they’ll get pregnant and adopt at the same time… OR MAYBE THEY’LL DO EMBRYO ADOPTION?! https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/bwaoKMfCzM
• ⁠5/15: Posts the family/friends adoption announcement compilation. At 3:15, Brittany tells her associate (?) Caitlin that it’s all thanks to her, as she was matched through the agency she [recommended]. https://www.reddit.com/brittanydawnsnark/s/pcVlvUjb2B

There are some kinds of wisdom only great suffering can bring. I remember my time in the Bardo with this in mind, for otherwise, the memory might drive me insane.
The night my heart stopped for nearly three minutes started off normally enough. I was working as a nurse in the psychiatric ward at a hospital in the state’s capital. Most of the patients there were harmless, mostly just suicide attempts or people suffering from drug psychosis or severe depression, but some were actively dangerous and certainly psychopathic in every sense of the word. The new admission was one of these- a three-hundred pound black man with a long history of smoking PCP, schizophrenia and violent, psychotic breaks from reality.
His eyes looked like flat pieces of slate as I walked in for my shift. They looked as blank and emotionless as the eyes of a doll. He sat at the table in the front room where the patients ate or played cards, alone under the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital. I walked to the station, where another psychiatric nurse named Ricardo was sitting behind the desk.
“What’s the deal with the new guy?” I asked him. Ricardo looked up, his dark Spanish face forming into a deep scowl. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair nervously.
“He’s trouble, man,” he said in a crisp accent. “He got in a chase with the police and then punched some cops in the face. It took three guys to take him down, even after he got maced and tased. The judge sent him here on a temporary court order, since he claims he’s been getting chased by Nazis in UFOs, and that’s why he ran from the cops. He thought the cops in their uniforms were actually the SS, and the helicopters were alien spacecraft, or something. I don’t know, I didn’t listen to the whole story.”
“You have his file?” I asked. Ricardo leafed through a stack of folders with his thin fingers, snatching one out and handing it to me. I looked down, reading the information:
“Jeremiah Brown, black male, 37-years-old.
“History: Polysubstance abuse, schizophrenia, antisocial personality disorder.
“Psychiatrist’s note: This patient has scored a 36 out of 40 on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist. While I am always hesitant to label a patient as an antisocial personality, a combination of factors has made it essential for this patient.
“Patient has an extensive criminal history as well as a lengthy history of involuntary psychiatric admissions. He has been diagnosed as having antisocial traits since he was a young teenager. Patient has a long history of violence and suicide attempts. He has a history of imprisonment for manslaughter, armed robbery, grand theft and aggravated assault. Upon discharge, he refuses to take any antipsychotic medication, citing the side effects as the reason. Long-term prognosis is poor…”
I had not been sleeping well the past few weeks. I rubbed my eyes as I read through the file, feeling exhausted. I tried putting on lucid dreaming or meditation music from YouTube to help me sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, I saw horrible things: chalk-white female faces whose lips were cut into an insane rictus grin, flicking their heads violently from side to side and gnashing their fangs at the air. I had a feeling that many years of constantly watching horror movies and serial killer documentaries was catching up with me.
As I read through the file, a student nurse came around the corner wearing a white state university outfit and a name tag that said Kaitlyn. I looked up, seeing Ricardo wink at me from where he was sitting in his chair behind the main desk.
“She’s going to follow you,” he said. Inwardly, I groaned, but I managed to force a smile.
“Oh, great!” I said. She looked like she was probably no older than nineteen or twenty. She had a pretty body, but her face looked strange. All the angles were too sharp and her nose too large. I knew the patients here wouldn’t care, though. They would hit on anything. I sensed trouble. I looked down at my watch.
“Well, I’m Jay, and you already know Ricardo, I guess. It’s good timing, because we need to give medications every day at 9 PM. And we have a new patient, so we can introduce ourselves,” I said, giving her a faint smile.
“That’s exciting!” Kaitlyn whispered. I wanted to roll my eyes. It was definitely not exciting.
I motioned her to follow me as I made my way to the medication room, which was really just a large closet off of the main day room. I had to enter my code on a keypad, and then, once inside, enter it again along with the patient’s number and date of birth. The correct drawers for the medication in each specific dose would fly open, making it extremely hard for the wrong medications or doses to be given, unless it was done intentionally.
“OK, so for this patient, we need Haldol, Ativan and…” I began saying to Kaitlyn when the yelling started. It came out faintly, rising in volume and anger within seconds. I heard Ricardo’s Spanish voice, filled with panic. Something slammed hard against a wall, once, twice, three times, and then I heard the sound of glass breaking. I jumped, spinning around, but I couldn’t see much through the small, shatter-proof glass pane on the wooden door.
“Stay here,” I commanded, seeing Kaitlyn’s eyes widen, her freckled skin looking much paler than when we had first come in. “Don’t leave until I come back and say that it’s safe.” On the speakers strung throughout the hospital, I heard the first of the warnings echo out around us.
“Doctor Strong, Doctor Strong, please report to the seventh floor,” a robotic female voice said calmly, using the code for when a patient had to be subdued by force. I pushed the door open, slamming it shut behind me so that the lock would activate and protect Kaitlyn from whatever chaos was going on.
I heard Ricardo pleading with someone at the end of the hallway that ran past the main desk. He sounded strange, as if he were trying to talk through a mouthful of blood. Huddled behind the main computer, I saw one of the CNAs frantically whispering something in the phone. She must have been the one to call the Dr. Strong order.
“You don’t have to do this, man,” Ricardo gurgled faintly. I couldn’t see what was happening, as Jeremiah’s large body was blocking my view. I could see that the thick glass window at the end of the hallway was broken, however. My heart skipped a beat as I surmised what was likely happening.
I sprinted forward as quietly as I could, but the large man heard me. His massive body turned, his flat, dead eyes scanning me with absolute coldness and calm. I saw he had a bleeding Ricardo in his hands. Ricardo’s back and head were covered in deep cuts and shards of glass. He must have used Ricardo’s body as a battering ram to break the thick glass window. Jeremiah held Ricardo suspended halfway out the window, seven floors above the concrete walkways far below.
“Stay back, or this fucker will know what it feels like to fly,” Jeremiah said in a deep, gravelly voice. He shook Ricardo for emphasis, sending his head snapping back and forth with painful cracking sounds. Drops of blood flew from his nose and a deep gash across his cheek. Pieces of shattered glass littered the carpet, shining like countless tiny stars.
I put my hands up, taking a step back. Far behind me, I heard the front door for the psychiatric ward open. Voices echoed down the hall. Knowing that reinforcements were coming, I tried to buy some time.
“Let’s talk about this,” I said, taking a step forward slowly. “You don’t want a murder charge, do you? You’ll never see the sky again.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I’m not afraid to die!” Jeremiah screamed, pushing Ricardo onto one of the shards of broken glass still attached to the windowsill. It bit deeply into the back of his neck, sending fresh streams of blood rushing out, dripping down to the pavement far below. I heard security guards and doctors running down the hallway behind me, their voices frantic and excited. Jeremiah saw them coming. With an animalistic panic in his eyes, he lifted Ricardo up. I cried out something, stepping forward, but it was already too late. In horror, I watched as he threw Ricardo out the window.
I watched Ricardo’s body soar in a graceful arc, his arms grabbing at empty air as a scream ripped its way out of his throat. Within a fraction of a second, he had disappeared from view, but his terrified shrieking floated up to us for what seemed like a very long time. His screams ended abruptly as a shattering of bones and a wet smacking sound exploded far below us.
Jeremiah turned to me, his large body moving much faster than seemed possible. In his hand, I saw a piece of broken glass, five or six inches long and as sharp as a dagger. I tried to turn and run, but he was fast and strong. He lunged forward, his arm coming up in a blur towards my neck.
The shard entered my skin with a cold, numbing pain. I felt it slice through the flesh easily, felt the blood bubbling up my throat as I tried to scream, choking. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I fell backwards. I was suffocating, I knew. I must be dying.
Something cold ran down my body, gripping my heart like freezing, skeletal hands. The world swam around me and turned black. And then I was rising into a tunnel. At first, it was dark, filled with flickering shadows, but a fiery red light appeared at the end. I followed it, no more than a screaming mass of consciousness rising up into infinity.
***
I rose up through the end of the tunnel and found myself in an empty hospital ward. It looked identical to the psychiatric ward I had just come from. It even had the same smashed, blood-streaked window at the end of the hallway. A massive puddle of blood about ten feet away marked the spot where I must have died. But the fluorescent lights overhead here were flickering, and many had gone totally dark. The shadows seemed to press in on all sides.
The doors to the patients’ rooms were all tightly shut. I felt watched, afraid to call out or make any noise. I started walking down the hallway back towards the day room where the front desk was. All the lights there were out. A thick curtain of shadows hung in the air.
“You can come out,” a male voice as smooth as glass called from the darkness. I jumped, my head flicking in random directions, but I saw nothing. The voice almost sounded like it had an English lilt to it, a slight Cockneyed accent. “I know you’re there.”
“Who’s there?” I called out, not stepping forward. “Show yourself.”
“As you wish…” the voice hissed. “But I think you’ll regret it.”
***
The darkness split apart as if a nuclear missile had exploded. I raised my hand to shield my face, but the light and heat kept pouring out all around me. It blinded me, causing a rainbow of colors and shapes to morph behind my closed eyelids. After a few seconds, it subsided. Blinking rapidly, I squinted in the direction the voice had come from.
A male figure stood there, bathed in a silhouette of light. His face looked as white and as smooth as marble. His eyes were pits of darkness that seemed to flicker and burn. Two black, rotted wings surrounded his body, all sharp angles and thin, curving bones. His body was clothed in silky, blood-red robes, and a hood covered his platinum blonde hair.
He looked somewhat similar to Leonardo DiCaprio, if he was possessed by some ancient god, and it immediately threw me off-guard. If I was dying, and this was a hallucination of my brain, why would I be hallucinating Mr. DiCaprio?
“Who are you?” I asked, taking a hesitant step back. “Where am I?”
“My name is Lucifer, the Bringer of Light and Wisdom, and you are in the Bardo,” he answered.
“Oh,” I said, my heart dropping. “Well, that’s not good. Are you here to torture me or drag to me to Hell or something? You are that Lucifer, right? The Accuser of God and the Father of All Lies?”
“So they say, but, like most things in your world, the words of the powerful and your rulers are the true lies. They call me the Accuser, but of what am I accused?” he spoke in a voice that rose like smoke. “Of bringing knowledge and wisdom to humanity by telling them to eat from the tree of knowledge, the tree that would cause them to rise above the animals?
“Indeed, at the beginning, I saw the creation. I was there at the alpha, standing by the side of God with all the angels as the universe came into being. The endless procession of light, the power of it, was something remarkable to behold. God is, indeed, the source of great power, but his consciousness is not what the believers say.
“After the creation of the universe, I saw his plan, how he ripped eternal souls from the source to imprison them. I saw how he took these divine sparks and forced them, screaming and wailing, into bodies made of meat to die over and over again. He said it was part of the plan, the great, divine plan, a plan of death and destruction, constant suffering and mindless agony. And the worst part was, he wanted to give humanity neither the knowledge of good and evil, nor the tree of life. I convinced them to eat the fruit so they could open their eyes to their nakedness, to their basic animal existence, so they could rise up out of it forever.
“Like Prometheus, I brought down the fire, and yet they call me the Accuser? God was insane long before he formed the universe. These holy men, they live and die in fanatical adoration to a divine being who is, in fact, totally indifferent to them.
“His consciousness twists and distorts, eating itself for all eternity. God feeds off the pain of others, for if his mind is burning, then all others should burn as well. When these holy men die, God will send their souls here to the Bardo, to suffer every evil they have ever done. The wisdom I brought those who called upon me freed them from this prison, and in exchange, the holy men burned them alive. I offered the wisdom that opens your eyes, but it has been forgotten and cursed.”
Lucifer’s body began to dissolve, drifting up into the air like ashes. All around me, a low, powerful current blew, a tornado that spiraled high up into the clouds. Like some sort of Cheshire Cat, his smooth voice continued to echo all around me, even as the form of Lucifer disappeared.
“And yet, you have not the wisdom. For that, like all the others who enter the Bardo, you must suffer, everything you’ve done. Every small hurt and agony inflicted on others comes back a thousand-fold in this place, but don’t be afraid.”
“How could I not be afraid?!” I screamed into the ward, but I found myself alone, the question hanging unanswered in the air.
***
The lights continued to flicker all down the hallway. Feeling strange and dissociated, I stumbled over to one of the windows. As I gazed out, I beheld a strange and alien world.
The sky was flat and gray. It stayed in constant motion, swirling and spiraling, like clouds of roiling smoke. There was no Sun or Moon, no stars, only the strange, shifting whorls of clouds. The streets were filled with burned-out husks of cars and mummified bodies hung from streetlamps. Other signs of carnage and bloodshed covered the apocalyptic streets. I saw what looked like shadows in the shape of people slinking through over the sidewalks, past rotting dogs and streaks of clotted blood. They had no features on their blank, dark bodies. They seemed to skitter and jerk forwards in eerie, twisting motions.
Horrified, I turned away, realizing I was no longer alone in the day room. In the day room, there were dozens of tables set up inside a rectangular perimeter that was walled in by cosmetic walls only four feet high. It was where the patients sat and played games or ate.
Under the flickering lights, I now saw each of the chairs filled with faceless mannequins. Many were dressed in Victorian suits and tophats. The women had frilly dresses of pink and blue that might have been fashionable in the 1800s.
As the lights strobed on and off overhead, I realized with an increasing sense of disquiet that the mannequins were moving each time it went dark. When I had first seen them, they were mostly posed to look like they were staring across the tables at each other, even though they had no eyes, just smooth, flesh-colored plastic. Now all of them were looking directly at me. Some were pointing or raising their hands in my direction. At the tips of their fingers, I saw the glittering of steel. The lights continued to flicker, and the mannequins rose from their chairs in the short periods of darkness, moving towards me in synchronized, strobing motions.
Frantically, I ran down the hallway back towards the broken window. In each of the rooms, I caught glimpses of something from a nightmare peeking out. I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and when I had closed my eyes, I often saw ancient hags with chalk-white skin and yellowed, broken teeth whose jaws unhinged, their faces jerking in stuttering, dissonant ways that reminded me of the mannequins. Now, on both sides of me, I saw these same figures. They moved continuously out of the rooms, drawing closer with every breath.
I looked back, seeing the mannequins only a few steps behind me. I continued sprinting towards the broken window where the hallway ended in a wall. I didn’t know what would happen when I reached it. At that moment, there was no rational thought. I felt like a deer being chased down by a pack of wolves, feeling waves of blind panic and mortal terror rushing through my body.
But as I reached the end of the hallway, the end of my rope as it were, a blast of noise started, seeming to come from the walls of the building and the sky itself. It sounded like a siren, a low, drawn-out drone of a demonic whale call, rising and falling in crashing crescendos. The mannequins froze in place once again. The strange, witch-like creatures slunk back into the dark rooms.
I looked outside the broken window, seeing clouds of black smoke rising off in the distance. The flickering of massive infernos scorched the land, drawing nearer by the second. The siren sound faded slowly, like the dying echoes of a gong.
I was surrounded by dozens of mannequins. Their sharp hands were inches away from my face and neck. I saw metal glittering all around me and realized they had the sharp points of nails protruding from the ends of their fingers. I was afraid to move, but I heard a familiar voice from down the hallway. It was the confident voice of Lucifer.
“The siren means much worse nightmares than these are coming in the Bardo,” he said, his glossy, black eyes flashing with intelligence. He walked slowly towards me, his face grim and pale. “Hell itself is coming over the land. This building is no more than a construction of your dying mind, but the world outside is real.”
“How can Hell come and go?” I asked, confused. “Isn’t Hell a place?”
“Hell is a monster, a beast with many mouths and many eyes,” Lucifer responded. “It eats constantly, but its hunger never ends. Look, the first of the sacrifices scatter like cockroaches.” He pointed out the broken window, pushing his way through the mannequins effortlessly. I glanced outside, seeing thousands of people sprinting down the dark city streets. The inferno and thick clouds of smoke had moved much closer, and every few seconds, the ground shook slightly, as if we were experiencing the aftershocks of an earthquake.
“What can I do against such a beast?” I asked, my heart freezing with terror. But when I looked back over, I saw his form dissolving again, becoming translucent and drifting away like ashes. It seemed even Lucifer didn’t want to be present when the Hell-beast arrived.
“Seek divine wisdom,” he said, his voice trailing off into whispers. “Remember the source.”
***
Now crowds of tens of thousands of people were streaming into the city, filling every single inch of the streets. Their panic and fear was contagious. I felt it rising inside my body like a snake spiraling up my spine. I took off down the hallway, running through the swarm of frozen mannequins, each in their own ferocious position of attack. The lights flickered faster and went out. Yet the fires outside cast the entire world in a bloody glow, giving me enough light to see by and find my way. I sprinted down the stairwell, taking them two steps at a time. The screaming outside grew louder and more pain-filled. The shaking of the ground worsened with every passing second.
I burst out of the front entrance, seeing a world on fire all around me. Thousands of crushed, bleeding and burned bodies stretched out as far as the eye could see. Behind all this chaos and death, I saw a monster of unimaginable proportions slinking its way towards me.
Lucifer was right, I realized: Hell was not a place, but a creature, an enormous monster the size of a town. It had thousands of skittering, jointed legs that looked like little more than skeletal arms and hands, each of them dozens of feet long and white as freshly-cut marble. Its body stretched out to the horizon, an enormous blood-red cylinder of bony plates that slithered and undulated with a serpentine grace. Waves of peristalsis traveled down its length, like writhing intestines. Thousands of curving, bony spikes stabbed out of it, pointing in every direction. Like the quills of a porcupine, it would protect the massive creature’s body from many forms of attack, if anything was big enough to attack such an abomination.
Hell’s massive eyes flickered, balls of fire that spun and danced. They looked as bright as the Sun. Something like solar flares seemed to emanate from the orbs, flashes of blinding energy that floated over the apocalyptic wasteland. As its many legs smashed the ground, they left trails of fire that caused everything to explode into flames as if napalm dripped from its limbs.
But Hell’s most terrifying feature was its seven dark mouths. Its body looked a thousand feet wide, and the mouths at the front were evenly dispersed. At the front, blood-red teeth in the shape of enormous railroad spikes shone. Its lipless, skeletal face grinned as it moved forward, shaking the ground with every step. The mouths were on long, snake-like necks that could stretch out hundreds of feet. They moved forward in a blur, snapping up as many panicked souls as they could.
Countless souls in the rocky plains of the Bardo ran for their lives, away from this juggernaut. I saw men and women who looked like they came from every country and profession, some dressed in suits or spotless white lab coats, others wearing rags or orange prison jumpsuits. And yet, they all screamed in agony and fear here, their bodies pressed together in a crowd, and no one seemed to remember anything but their own mortal terror. Their voices came out faint and weak next to the roaring of Hell. It shook the ground all around us, as if an earthquake were tearing the land apart.
The first frantic runners of the surging crowd had nearly reached me. The nearest person, a young woman in her mid-twenties dressed in all white, was only ten feet behind me. She looked like she came from wealth, and even from here, I could see a ring with a massive diamond gleaming on her finger.
I took off blindly down the familiar streets of the city where I worked and lived, but these also seemed different. The church down the street from the hospital where I worked had a Satanic pentagram instead of a cross now, its exterior painted a bright, gleaming blood-red. When I had driven past it today on my way to work, I remember it read, “JESUS said, ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.’”
Now it read, “Nietzsche said, ‘Of all evil, I deem you capable. I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good simply because they had no claws.’” I wondered what that meant. Was that some sort of comment on me, on all of us here?
The woman I had seen running had caught up with me. She was fast, much faster than her slim body suggested. Her blue eyes were frantic and wild, filled with an animal panic.
“It’s right behind us!” she screamed, her face covered in a sheen of sweat. I was afraid to turn and look, but I could hear the chaos and bloodshed approaching, smell the flames and choking smoke. “Run! Get away!”
A new wave of energy surged through my body. I sprinted as fast I could down the strange mirror streets of the Bardo. I heard the agonized cries of countless souls behind us as the seven mouths of Hell ate them all greedily and then looked for more.
A skyscraper behind us collapsed into a pile of rubble, shaking the ground with a cacophony of falling concrete and shattering glass. The woman was running by my side. Just as I heard the breathing of something huge and predatory right behind us and smelled its sulfuric breath, a piece of concrete the size of a basketball broke off the collapsing skyscraper and flew into the road. I tripped over it, yelling as I flew through the air, skinning my arms and legs on the pavement. The woman’s eyes widened. Hurriedly, she came over and reached down her hand, trying to help me up.
“Come on, come on!” she cried. I looked behind her, seeing one of the gnashing mouths of Hell reaching forward on a blood-red, serpentine neck. The mouth was big enough to drive a tractor trailer into, filled with huge spikes of teeth. Its throat led into a black, smoke-filled abyss. Its fiery eyes were swirling pools of flickering orange light that shone with bloodlust and insanity. They focused on the woman, the entire head turning on its slithering neck.
I frantically raised my hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Her hand was warm and soft. She started to pull me to my feet when the mouth of Hell snapped forward. Its jaw unhinged, scraping the pavement with a sound like grinding metal. The woman barely had time to turn as the mouth covered her and snapped shut with a crack.
She disappeared from view instantly, but I was still holding her hand. In horror, I felt warm rivers of blood explode all over my body as the mouth of Hell severed her arm at the wrist. She screamed, bleeding and crying, as she disappeared into the throat of Hell. Hell’s fiery eyes focused on me, and at that moment, I knew I was next. Its mouth opened wide again, like a bear trap ready to spring on a new victim.
It was dark in Hell’s mouth, but I smelled the thick reek of old blood and fire. I caught glimpses of tortured, mutilated bodies writhing and crawling down its throat. Shell-shocked, I could only lay there and watch. And that was when the strange doubling started.
***
I heard the frantic voices of men break through the fog of darkness and the fetid reek of blood. There was a mechanical beeping all around me, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
“Clear!” one cried. I looked around, only seeing blackness. At that moment, I felt a surge of electricity rip itself through my body. My arms and legs all seized and my eyes rolled up in my head as the pain sizzled through each one of my nerves. I clutched the young woman’s hand tightly, feeling the large, gold ring with the massive diamond biting into my skin.
“Again!” another voice yelled.
“Clear!” the original voice cried. The electricity came again, and a flash of white light flew across my vision. I blinked, seeing from two sets of eyes at the same time: one in the Bardo, and one on the blood-stained floor of the hospital ward.
The Bardo stayed dark and sinister, but the clear white lights of the real psychiatric ward were blinding. It was a bizarre experience. Moreover, everything hurt. Over a few seconds, my vision of the Bardo faded, and I was simply a gravely injured man laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.
Four doctors and paramedics were crouching over me with a defibrillator. My shirt was ripped off, and nearly all of my skin was covered in blood. I raised my left hand, trying to talk, but only a fiery pain raced through my neck. I felt bandages covering my skin. A nurse was rolling a stretcher down the hallway towards me.
“It’s OK,” one of the doctors said, kneeling down. “You’re being taken to emergency surgery. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t talk with the massive slice in my neck.
At that moment, I felt something in my right hand. I looked down, seeing a slim female hand with a massive diamond ring hanging there. Our fingers were wrapped around each other’s, but the hand had been cut off at the wrist. A ragged patch of bloody flesh and snapped bone poked out of the back.
“Nnnn,” I tried to say, shaking my head. I felt fresh streams of warm blood open up. “No…” The doctors looked down, seeing the dismembered hand. Their faces morphed into expressions of confusion and fear.
I closed my eyes as they lifted me up on the stretcher. One of them gently removed the cold hand from my fingers. But they could never remove the memory of what I had seen.
I know what happens after death, and it makes the worst life here seem like a dream. I know that, one day, I’ll be returned to that place. I know that, one day, I’ll see that great monster called Hell and the featureless, swirling sky of the Bardo again.
And the next time, I won’t wake up on a hospital floor, but will be trapped there with the others for eternity: an eternity of blood and fire.

I'm sorry if this is a rant, which it is! Let me just bullet point this to make it simple:

• Everyone in my life has chosen to have children, which is obviously their choice. I now can't have a friendship with anyone without being around children, often younger children. I don't mind older children at all. In fact, I like well-behaved and well-raised children over the age of eight. I can't abide young children. They have occasional cute moments, but the scales are so heavily tilted by all of their negative aspects, I honestly, genuinely don't understand why anyone who knows what they're like chooses to give birth. Some people go into it blind, but why anyone would go into it by choice, although I understand some of the societal and biological explanations, I will never truly understand. As far as I can see, they are the ruination of everything. If you have any ambitions or aspirations at all, unless you pay other people to look after them, children will destroy them.
  
• In line with this, my close friend has just had two children. The elder of the two is young, but the younger of the two is still around 20 months old, I think. I just know she's a shitbag, I don't know her age. I literally cannot see my friend without being around her. This is bad enough in itself due to her being utterly unbearable, and I've already said: “look, don't bring her to my house, I'll come to you”.
  
• But, in addition, every time I go near this child, I get ill. It's unbelievable. So I've had to say to my friend: “I don't want to be around your child for quite some time”. Consequently, I now cannot see my friend at all. Or if I want to see her, I have to risk illness. It is sometimes a little painful for me to be around her anyway, as I've watched her make a series of what I can only describe as atrocious decisions, but that just seems to be normal.
  
• Everyone else that I know also has children. Except one person, who has always, during the whole time that I've known her, been skint to the point of destitution. But she still wants to have at least one child! Everyone who lives around me, everyone I encounter, everyone in my family, all have children.
  
• Additionally, being childfree kills dating. I honestly think you'd be better off being on the sex offenders' register, as you might be able to hide this somehow, or you could even be forgiven for it. You can get a false impression from being part of this community, but, as a general rule, you can do little more to condemn yourself as a man than say: “I don't want children. Ever”. It's one of the worst things you can ever say for the vast majority of women, unless you're going through that hook-up period that I was never interested in at the age when it would have been appropriate.
  
• We hear a lot of hype about women choosing not to have children. Well, it is hype, in my experience. I researched this on Match.com, and found that only around 5% of women would categorically rule out having children. This study suggests that 92.4% of UK women want to have children. So as soon as you're a childfree man, you're eliminating 19 out of 20 women, perhaps 18 out of 20 in an unduly optimistic scenario. It is possible to have more casual relationships, but anything long-term becomes very difficult.
  
• Furthermore, you can never really feel certain that a woman is childfree, even though I know people are in this community. I've seen posts on here where friends have changed their mind when they feel their 'biological clock' ticking. Equally, I've seen posts where women are dating men who have proclaimed to be childfree, and they've had second thoughts. So that's a massive long-term relationship problem.
  
• Because of my childfree preference, I had to end a relationship I was having that was probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I was dating an underwear model, who, for some bizarre reason, adored me. I have no doubt that she would have married me. We had a fantastic connection, I don't think I'll ever completely get over it. I had hoped, stupidly perhaps, that as she had grown-up children, she wouldn't want another child. Well, I got that one completely wrong! I will, again, never understand this, as I can't remember the precise age she'd had her first child, but she was, at her eldest, 22 years-old. She would have been pregnant when she was 20-21. She had never had the freedom that we would all associate with adulthood. Never. That is just approaching on the horizon, she's literally got the perfect body, by her own admission she's had a struggle being a single mother at times, so what does she want to do? Knock out another child! It beggars fucking belief.
  
• Because literally everything in life revolves around children, I've now reached a point where I am largely isolated, and, certainly, I have absolutely no support or assistance from anyone. I have, to a very great extent, become estranged from my family, and I don't really regret it, because they never bothered to take an interest in anything that I did, think, or believe, or even really get to know me. Naturally, they don't support any of my life choices. I don't have any friends who really have the time to give me any assistance in any capacity whatsoever. (Oh, I forgot to mention, I had a dog walker who would come every couple of weeks, it was nice for my dog, but then she got pregnant, so I knew that would end, and, of course, I haven't heard from her since). The friend that I mentioned earlier actually stood in my kitchen crying, regretting that she'd got pregnant, saying that she wants to be able to give me the support that I have given her. And she did this semi-hysterical rant for quite a while, but, the thing is, every word was true! I said something diplomatic, but I couldn't say: “that's not true!”
  
• I looked for childfree groups where I live. There aren't any. I live in an area where it's all families. There are very few single people. Frankly, not many single people can afford to live here. In fact, I googled “childfree meetup groups” and one of the links was a load of support groups for people with children! But very few people here consciously choose to be childfree anyway. It's just not the done thing. And certainly not at my age.
  

Anyway, I just wanted to get all that of my chest, and also end on a positive note.
I feel grateful every single day that I don't have children, and will never have children.

Man is a social creature and it is usually uncomfortable for him to live alone. There are many reasons for loneliness, including unsuccessful experiences in relationships, prolonged searches for the ideal soul mate, and lack of self-confidence. It is possible to overcome this condition and it is not so difficult to do. We’ll tell you how.
Why is loneliness so bad?
In fact, the answer is not as obvious as you might think. In addition to not having a loved one nearby, there are other negative consequences. If you don’t see your friends often and are focused only on work, your social skills are lost and you become more withdrawn.
Temporary loneliness develops into chronic — it is simply difficult to let another person into your life, even if you want to. Over time, a career will cease to bring joy, and without support at home, problems will begin in it.
Living only for yourself, there is a higher risk of acquiring a destructive addiction, for example, to alcohol, which will affect all areas of life. Also, a significant disadvantage of such a life is the immediate absence of a large number of advantages that stable relationships provide: mutual assistance — domestic and financial, support, and more varied leisure time. In addition, it has been proven that people who are happy in their personal lives live longer.
Of course, there will be those who will say that single life also has many advantages, and will not want to change anything. But if you are reading this article, most likely the problem of loneliness is relevant to you. First, it’s worth figuring out whether this is a pattern or a pure coincidence.

The main reasons for loneliness

Single men are not uncommon these days. More and more representatives of the stronger sex are choosing a bachelor lifestyle, ignoring any attempts by women to involve them in a serious relationship. Sometimes the reason for this lies in deep psychological trauma, which must be dealt with exclusively with the help of a therapist. It could be loneliness syndrome, chronic depression, or something similar. But most often the desire to remain single is caused by social factors. Let’s consider the main ones and solutions.

High expectations

If your image of an ideal life partner has little in common with reality, finding “the one” can be extremely difficult. When setting any requirements for a future girlfriend, you need to clearly answer three questions. Are these qualities really important to you, and not imposed by someone? Are there even women who combine such qualities? And do you yourself meet such high criteria?

Failed Relationships

If a person’s past relationship ended badly, he will not strive to enter into the next one, so as not to get burned again. Usually, it takes time for mental wounds to heal; you definitely don’t need to overpower yourself and look for a new girl immediately after a breakup.

Reluctance to get married and take responsibility

The world is changing rapidly and marriage is no longer the only possible option for two loving people. But here it is important to distinguish your desires from imposed stereotypes. Even in a situation where you are firmly convinced that marriage and children are not for you, it is not at all necessary to remain single. You just need to find a girl whose values ​​coincide with yours. Or maybe you really want a family, but are afraid to destroy the image of the “alpha male”? You shouldn’t give up happiness in order to meet someone else’s expectations.

Lack of financial well-being

If you understand that family is a big responsibility, including finances, that’s good. So you are an adult. The lack of a stable income or the desire to live for oneself for now are fair reasons to avoid a serious relationship. It is important that you continue to develop so that by a certain age you can still achieve financial stability.

Benefits of Solitude

It’s hard to argue that there are many advantages to a single life: freedom, the opportunity to lead a wild life, or, conversely, to be in complete peace 24/7. But many are so carried away by them that they acquire the habit of always living independently. Is this your case? Think about it: do you still want to start a family in the future? If the answer is yes, the main thing is not to prolong this pleasant solitude. After all, sooner or later it will stop making you happy, and there is a risk of missing out on happiness.

How else can you cope with loneliness?

Play sports
An active lifestyle is the best cure for any emotional distress. So, when in doubt or after a serious breakup, sport is especially indicated. And in the gym or in the park you can meet the same active girl.
Look for new hobbies
Communication based on common interests can be a great start to a long, happy relationship. Or you will find a new talent or even a calling. Don’t close yourself within four walls, try different hobbies. Not in order to definitely meet someone, but so that life sparkles with new colors.
Focus on work
A career is a good way to distract yourself if things are not going very smoothly in your personal life. This will also allow you to gain financial independence, which will also be a plus when you finally want to start a family.
Meet with friends
Even if you don’t have a significant other right now, this is not a reason not to communicate with other couples. Who knows, maybe, looking at the relationships of your friends, you yourself will want such stability. And your bachelor friends will definitely help you take your mind off any dreary thoughts.
Get a pet
When the feeling of loneliness becomes too strong, you should get a pet. It doesn’t have to be a big dog right away; even small animals will make your life more meaningful and rich. And if you are already so used to loneliness that you don’t know how to start making acquaintances, definitely get a dog. You will have to walk a lot with her and periodically communicate with new people who will not be able to resist your four-legged friend.
So, have you realized that being alone has more disadvantages than advantages for you, and are you ready to change the situation? Then it’s a matter of time. An active social life and a positive attitude will be the first steps towards a new relationship. But if you feel that some internal complexes are preventing you from moving forward; or you have developed a strong fear of loneliness, you literally cannot be left alone — this is a signal that you should consult a psychologist. As we noted above, psychological trauma is sometimes to blame for chronic loneliness, and only a specialist can help cope with it. Why men get lonely and how to avoid itMan is a social creature and it is usually uncomfortable for him to live alone. There are many reasons for loneliness, including unsuccessful experiences in relationships, prolonged searches for the ideal soul mate, and lack of self-confidence. It is possible to overcome this condition and it is not so difficult to do. We’ll tell you how.Why is loneliness so bad?In fact, the answer is not as obvious as you might think. In addition to not having a loved one nearby, there are other negative consequences. If you don’t see your friends often and are focused only on work, your social skills are lost and you become more withdrawn.Temporary loneliness develops into chronic — it is simply difficult to let another person into your life, even if you want to. Over time, a career will cease to bring joy, and without support at home, problems will begin in it. Living only for yourself, there is a higher risk of acquiring a destructive addiction, for example, to alcohol, which will affect all areas of life. Also, a significant disadvantage of such a life is the immediate absence of a large number of advantages that stable relationships provide: mutual assistance — domestic and financial, support, and more varied leisure time. In addition, it has been proven that people who are happy in their personal lives live longer.Of course, there will be those who will say that single life also has many advantages, and will not want to change anything. But if you are reading this article, most likely the problem of loneliness is relevant to you. First, it’s worth figuring out whether this is a pattern or a pure coincidence.The main reasons for lonelinessSingle men are not uncommon these days. More and more representatives of the stronger sex are choosing a bachelor lifestyle, ignoring any attempts by women to involve them in a serious relationship. Sometimes the reason for this lies in deep psychological trauma, which must be dealt with exclusively with the help of a therapist. It could be loneliness syndrome, chronic depression, or something similar. But most often the desire to remain single is caused by social factors. Let’s consider the main ones and solutions.High expectationsIf your image of an ideal life partner has little in common with reality, finding “the one” can be extremely difficult. When setting any requirements for a future girlfriend, you need to clearly answer three questions. Are these qualities really important to you, and not imposed by someone? Are there even women who combine such qualities? And do you yourself meet such high criteria?Failed RelationshipsIf a person’s past relationship ended badly, he will not strive to enter into the next one, so as not to get burned again. Usually, it takes time for mental wounds to heal; you definitely don’t need to overpower yourself and look for a new girl immediately after a breakup. Reluctance to get married and take responsibilityThe world is changing rapidly and marriage is no longer the only possible option for two loving people. But here it is important to distinguish your desires from imposed stereotypes. Even in a situation where you are firmly convinced that marriage and children are not for you, it is not at all necessary to remain single. You just need to find a girl whose values ​​coincide with yours. Or maybe you really want a family, but are afraid to destroy the image of the “alpha male”? You shouldn’t give up happiness in order to meet someone else’s expectations.Lack of financial well-beingIf you understand that family is a big responsibility, including finances, that’s good. So you are an adult. The lack of a stable income or the desire to live for oneself for now are fair reasons to avoid a serious relationship. It is important that you continue to develop so that by a certain age you can still achieve financial stability.Benefits of SolitudeIt’s hard to argue that there are many advantages to a single life: freedom, the opportunity to lead a wild life, or, conversely, to be in complete peace 24/7. But many are so carried away by them that they acquire the habit of always living independently. Is this your case? Think about it: do you still want to start a family in the future? If the answer is yes, the main thing is not to prolong this pleasant solitude. After all, sooner or later it will stop making you happy, and there is a risk of missing out on happiness.How else can you cope with loneliness?Play sportsAn active lifestyle is the best cure for any emotional distress. So, when in doubt or after a serious breakup, sport is especially indicated. And in the gym or in the park you can meet the same active girl. Look for new hobbies Communication based on common interests can be a great start to a long, happy relationship. Or you will find a new talent or even a calling. Don’t close yourself within four walls, try different hobbies. Not in order to definitely meet someone, but so that life sparkles with new colors.Focus on workA career is a good way to distract yourself if things are not going very smoothly in your personal life. This will also allow you to gain financial independence, which will also be a plus when you finally want to start a family.Meet with friendsEven if you don’t have a significant other right now, this is not a reason not to communicate with other couples. Who knows, maybe, looking at the relationships of your friends, you yourself will want such stability. And your bachelor friends will definitely help you take your mind off any dreary thoughts.Get a petWhen the feeling of loneliness becomes too strong, you should get a pet. It doesn’t have to be a big dog right away; even small animals will make your life more meaningful and rich. And if you are already so used to loneliness that you don’t know how to start making acquaintances, definitely get a dog. You will have to walk a lot with her and periodically communicate with new people who will not be able to resist your four-legged friend.So, have you realized that being alone has more disadvantages than advantages for you, and are you ready to change the situation? Then it’s a matter of time. An active social life and a positive attitude will be the first steps towards a new relationship. But if you feel that some internal complexes are preventing you from moving forward; or you have developed a strong fear of loneliness, you literally cannot be left alone — this is a signal that you should consult a psychologist. As we noted above, psychological trauma is sometimes to blame for chronic loneliness, and only a specialist can help cope with it.

The best tips for a vibrant intimate lifeThe best tips for a vibrant intimate life

Man is a social creature and it is usually uncomfortable for him to live alone. There are many reasons for loneliness, including unsuccessful experiences in relationships, prolonged searches for the ideal soul mate, and lack of self-confidence. It is possible to overcome this condition and it is not so difficult to do. We’ll tell you how.
Why is loneliness so bad?
In fact, the answer is not as obvious as you might think. In addition to not having a loved one nearby, there are other negative consequences. If you don’t see your friends often and are focused only on work, your social skills are lost and you become more withdrawn.
Temporary loneliness develops into chronic — it is simply difficult to let another person into your life, even if you want to. Over time, a career will cease to bring joy, and without support at home, problems will begin in it.
Living only for yourself, there is a higher risk of acquiring a destructive addiction, for example, to alcohol, which will affect all areas of life. Also, a significant disadvantage of such a life is the immediate absence of a large number of advantages that stable relationships provide: mutual assistance — domestic and financial, support, and more varied leisure time. In addition, it has been proven that people who are happy in their personal lives live longer.
Of course, there will be those who will say that single life also has many advantages, and will not want to change anything. But if you are reading this article, most likely the problem of loneliness is relevant to you. First, it’s worth figuring out whether this is a pattern or a pure coincidence.

The main reasons for loneliness

Single men are not uncommon these days. More and more representatives of the stronger sex are choosing a bachelor lifestyle, ignoring any attempts by women to involve them in a serious relationship. Sometimes the reason for this lies in deep psychological trauma, which must be dealt with exclusively with the help of a therapist. It could be loneliness syndrome, chronic depression, or something similar. But most often the desire to remain single is caused by social factors. Let’s consider the main ones and solutions.

High expectations

If your image of an ideal life partner has little in common with reality, finding “the one” can be extremely difficult. When setting any requirements for a future girlfriend, you need to clearly answer three questions. Are these qualities really important to you, and not imposed by someone? Are there even women who combine such qualities? And do you yourself meet such high criteria?

Failed Relationships

If a person’s past relationship ended badly, he will not strive to enter into the next one, so as not to get burned again. Usually, it takes time for mental wounds to heal; you definitely don’t need to overpower yourself and look for a new girl immediately after a breakup.

Reluctance to get married and take responsibility

The world is changing rapidly and marriage is no longer the only possible option for two loving people. But here it is important to distinguish your desires from imposed stereotypes. Even in a situation where you are firmly convinced that marriage and children are not for you, it is not at all necessary to remain single. You just need to find a girl whose values ​​coincide with yours. Or maybe you really want a family, but are afraid to destroy the image of the “alpha male”? You shouldn’t give up happiness in order to meet someone else’s expectations.

Lack of financial well-being

If you understand that family is a big responsibility, including finances, that’s good. So you are an adult. The lack of a stable income or the desire to live for oneself for now are fair reasons to avoid a serious relationship. It is important that you continue to develop so that by a certain age you can still achieve financial stability.

Benefits of Solitude

It’s hard to argue that there are many advantages to a single life: freedom, the opportunity to lead a wild life, or, conversely, to be in complete peace 24/7. But many are so carried away by them that they acquire the habit of always living independently. Is this your case? Think about it: do you still want to start a family in the future? If the answer is yes, the main thing is not to prolong this pleasant solitude. After all, sooner or later it will stop making you happy, and there is a risk of missing out on happiness.

How else can you cope with loneliness?

Play sports
An active lifestyle is the best cure for any emotional distress. So, when in doubt or after a serious breakup, sport is especially indicated. And in the gym or in the park you can meet the same active girl.
Look for new hobbies
Communication based on common interests can be a great start to a long, happy relationship. Or you will find a new talent or even a calling. Don’t close yourself within four walls, try different hobbies. Not in order to definitely meet someone, but so that life sparkles with new colors.
Focus on work
A career is a good way to distract yourself if things are not going very smoothly in your personal life. This will also allow you to gain financial independence, which will also be a plus when you finally want to start a family.
Meet with friends
Even if you don’t have a significant other right now, this is not a reason not to communicate with other couples. Who knows, maybe, looking at the relationships of your friends, you yourself will want such stability. And your bachelor friends will definitely help you take your mind off any dreary thoughts.
Get a pet
When the feeling of loneliness becomes too strong, you should get a pet. It doesn’t have to be a big dog right away; even small animals will make your life more meaningful and rich. And if you are already so used to loneliness that you don’t know how to start making acquaintances, definitely get a dog. You will have to walk a lot with her and periodically communicate with new people who will not be able to resist your four-legged friend.
So, have you realized that being alone has more disadvantages than advantages for you, and are you ready to change the situation? Then it’s a matter of time. An active social life and a positive attitude will be the first steps towards a new relationship. But if you feel that some internal complexes are preventing you from moving forward; or you have developed a strong fear of loneliness, you literally cannot be left alone — this is a signal that you should consult a psychologist. As we noted above, psychological trauma is sometimes to blame for chronic loneliness, and only a specialist can help cope with it. Why men get lonely and how to avoid itMan is a social creature and it is usually uncomfortable for him to live alone. There are many reasons for loneliness, including unsuccessful experiences in relationships, prolonged searches for the ideal soul mate, and lack of self-confidence. It is possible to overcome this condition and it is not so difficult to do. We’ll tell you how.Why is loneliness so bad?In fact, the answer is not as obvious as you might think. In addition to not having a loved one nearby, there are other negative consequences. If you don’t see your friends often and are focused only on work, your social skills are lost and you become more withdrawn.Temporary loneliness develops into chronic — it is simply difficult to let another person into your life, even if you want to. Over time, a career will cease to bring joy, and without support at home, problems will begin in it. Living only for yourself, there is a higher risk of acquiring a destructive addiction, for example, to alcohol, which will affect all areas of life. Also, a significant disadvantage of such a life is the immediate absence of a large number of advantages that stable relationships provide: mutual assistance — domestic and financial, support, and more varied leisure time. In addition, it has been proven that people who are happy in their personal lives live longer.Of course, there will be those who will say that single life also has many advantages, and will not want to change anything. But if you are reading this article, most likely the problem of loneliness is relevant to you. First, it’s worth figuring out whether this is a pattern or a pure coincidence.The main reasons for lonelinessSingle men are not uncommon these days. More and more representatives of the stronger sex are choosing a bachelor lifestyle, ignoring any attempts by women to involve them in a serious relationship. Sometimes the reason for this lies in deep psychological trauma, which must be dealt with exclusively with the help of a therapist. It could be loneliness syndrome, chronic depression, or something similar. But most often the desire to remain single is caused by social factors. Let’s consider the main ones and solutions.High expectationsIf your image of an ideal life partner has little in common with reality, finding “the one” can be extremely difficult. When setting any requirements for a future girlfriend, you need to clearly answer three questions. Are these qualities really important to you, and not imposed by someone? Are there even women who combine such qualities? And do you yourself meet such high criteria?Failed RelationshipsIf a person’s past relationship ended badly, he will not strive to enter into the next one, so as not to get burned again. Usually, it takes time for mental wounds to heal; you definitely don’t need to overpower yourself and look for a new girl immediately after a breakup. Reluctance to get married and take responsibilityThe world is changing rapidly and marriage is no longer the only possible option for two loving people. But here it is important to distinguish your desires from imposed stereotypes. Even in a situation where you are firmly convinced that marriage and children are not for you, it is not at all necessary to remain single. You just need to find a girl whose values ​​coincide with yours. Or maybe you really want a family, but are afraid to destroy the image of the “alpha male”? You shouldn’t give up happiness in order to meet someone else’s expectations.Lack of financial well-beingIf you understand that family is a big responsibility, including finances, that’s good. So you are an adult. The lack of a stable income or the desire to live for oneself for now are fair reasons to avoid a serious relationship. It is important that you continue to develop so that by a certain age you can still achieve financial stability.Benefits of SolitudeIt’s hard to argue that there are many advantages to a single life: freedom, the opportunity to lead a wild life, or, conversely, to be in complete peace 24/7. But many are so carried away by them that they acquire the habit of always living independently. Is this your case? Think about it: do you still want to start a family in the future? If the answer is yes, the main thing is not to prolong this pleasant solitude. After all, sooner or later it will stop making you happy, and there is a risk of missing out on happiness.How else can you cope with loneliness?Play sportsAn active lifestyle is the best cure for any emotional distress. So, when in doubt or after a serious breakup, sport is especially indicated. And in the gym or in the park you can meet the same active girl. Look for new hobbies Communication based on common interests can be a great start to a long, happy relationship. Or you will find a new talent or even a calling. Don’t close yourself within four walls, try different hobbies. Not in order to definitely meet someone, but so that life sparkles with new colors.Focus on workA career is a good way to distract yourself if things are not going very smoothly in your personal life. This will also allow you to gain financial independence, which will also be a plus when you finally want to start a family.Meet with friendsEven if you don’t have a significant other right now, this is not a reason not to communicate with other couples. Who knows, maybe, looking at the relationships of your friends, you yourself will want such stability. And your bachelor friends will definitely help you take your mind off any dreary thoughts.Get a petWhen the feeling of loneliness becomes too strong, you should get a pet. It doesn’t have to be a big dog right away; even small animals will make your life more meaningful and rich. And if you are already so used to loneliness that you don’t know how to start making acquaintances, definitely get a dog. You will have to walk a lot with her and periodically communicate with new people who will not be able to resist your four-legged friend.So, have you realized that being alone has more disadvantages than advantages for you, and are you ready to change the situation? Then it’s a matter of time. An active social life and a positive attitude will be the first steps towards a new relationship. But if you feel that some internal complexes are preventing you from moving forward; or you have developed a strong fear of loneliness, you literally cannot be left alone — this is a signal that you should consult a psychologist. As we noted above, psychological trauma is sometimes to blame for chronic loneliness, and only a specialist can help cope with it.

The best tips for a vibrant intimate lifeThe best tips for a vibrant intimate life

I wrote this for a writing prompt in writingprompts, but not many people will see it because the prompt is a little old. I just wanted to share. Wrote during breaks at work so forgive me if it’s a little rough around the edges.
The prompt was, “Watching the man or woman of your dreams fall in love with someone else.”
feedback appreciated
::Caitlyn::
I watched her through her kitchen window.
She stood by the sink—wine glass in her hand, gently swirling it as she looked at her phone. God, she was pretty tonight. The yellow kitchen light cast a glow upon her skin, and I swear she was the brightest thing in the room—more so even than the bulb itself. Fishnet lace snaked up her legs, red as summer wine, and her bathrobe parted just enough at the top to tease—just enough to draw your attention to it so that she could playfully scold you for looking.
It’s what she did.
I knew what she was waiting for, though. This was the first night he hadn’t shown up in over a week.
I didn’t get it. That guy—the guy who tracks muddy boots through the house, the guy that smokes cigarettes in the laundry room even when she specifically tells him not to, the guy who hasn’t touched a single dirty dish in as long as he’d been there—a dirty anything for that matter, and he’s the one she swoons for? Fucking bastard. That’s all he was. A dirty fucking bastard that didn’t deserve a woman even half as nice as my Caitlyn.
No, she didn’t get it—really, she didn’t and it made me feel kind of sorry for her. God, I mean if she only knew the things I’d do for her—the things that we have in common. We would be so happy together.
I like to read just like she does, the same genres and everything. I even picked up the book she started last week, and it’s already one of my favorites. She likes to jog; I like to jog; she likes binging shows; I like binging shows. Both of us have a horrible sweet tooth as well. I can never help but smile at the thought of that.
Now, it’s three hours past eight, which was the time that he was supposed to arrive. She’d moved to the couch and was lying on her back, letting one leg dangle to the floor. Blue light from the TV illuminated her features in the dark of the room, and it wasn’t difficult to tell that she was upset. God, I hate to see her cry.
Occasionally, she would glance over. She would peer out the window with that sad face and look in my direction. At first, I thought she was trying to see over me, to look over the hedge and into the trees behind her drive. After a few of her glances, though, I wasn’t sure anymore. I was almost convinced that she noticed me and was looking directly at me.
Maybe she needed me. Perhaps this was her way of saying, “Come get me, Richard.” And what if it was? What if this was my chance, and I missed it because I thought about it too hard? Maybe she knew I’d been out here, watching all along, for all this time. If that was the case, then she surely knew that I wouldn’t be able to resist those watery eyes.
It was time—time to be the man she needed—to finally confess my love for her, then hold her tight in my arms as she did the same.
I straightened myself—no more hiding. No more lurking in the shadows while she filled the void in her heart with all of these other worthless men. It was time she had a real man, a man who cared.
I walked to the door. For a second, I wondered if she’d left it unlocked for me. She’d done that before and pretended she was asleep whenever I made my way inside. She always did like to tease like that. I almost just opened it and walked straight in, but on second thought, I figured it might’ve been a little jarring. I decided to knock instead.
My throat felt as tight as a fist. Why was I so nervous? She loved me; I knew she did, but still, I was nervous. Sweat beaded down the side of my face like condensation. I wiped it away with my sleeve and took a deep breath. This was it. In a few moments, I’d finally have my Caitlyn. I’d finally hold her in my arms like I’d always dreamed.
I brought my fist to the door, and my stomach tightened into a knot.
Just as I was about to do it, I heard gravel crunch in the distance.
Quickly, I darted back into the safety of the shadows. I could see two bright headlights through the trees as they bounced down the dirt road.
It was him—the old Chevy Silverado with the silver toolbox in the back.
Of course, it had to be him.
He’d messed up this time, though; there was no way she’d forgive him now, not after tonight. With a smirk, I watched, wondering what kind of pitiful attempt he’d make to try and win her back this time, knowing that whatever it was wouldn’t be enough. Then he stepped out of his truck.
He was covered in black grease from head to foot and wore a mechanic uniform. He held something small in his arms, something with a bright red bow tied around its neck. It was hard to tell, but it looked like a little black lab from where I stood. Trustingly, it pressed its head against his chest and darted its eyes around the new scenery.
He walked up the porch steps. He was going to knock, but before he could, Caitlyn flung the door inward and glared at him. As much as I hated how she felt, that twisted expression of anger she shot him gave me more joy than I could’ve imagined. That joy was only fleeting, though. The man flashed a smile as he looked down at his arms, rubbing the puppy’s head. It melted the expression right off of her face.
“Oh my God!” She squealed, happily shuffling her feet as she held her arms out.
I was appalled. A puppy? A little dog and all of his sins are erased?
The two of them seemed so giddy together. They laughed and hugged and spoke in high voices to the puppy while they rubbed its head. The whole scene made me sick to my stomach if you really want to know the truth.
I don’t know how he did it—how he managed to weasel his way back into her heart and occupy the space that was so rightfully mine—truly, I didn’t. Who knows, maybe it was all an act. Perhaps it was her way of telling me, “you should’ve knocked.” And now, this was my punishment.
Maybe I should’ve. Maybe then I could’ve been the one to answer that door. A puppy wouldn’t soften my eyes, not like hers. I failed her, I know, but I will not fail her again. That is the last night he will ever come knocking on her door. I’m certain of it.