My cousin (13M) is Chinese and he won’t stop saying the n word. It’s getting so bad that even my younger family members have started learning from him and say the n word most of the time too. I’m getting really worried and I’ve confronted him about it so many times but he just doesn’t seem to care. Today,we went to my uncle’s house for a barbecue and everything was fine and all but we were getting bored so I said that we should play some games like hide and seek and others game like that for the younger kids. Finally, we got bored of playing hide and seek so I proposed to play truth or dare . It was fine at first , we usually ask really stupid questions and dares and it’s usually harmless but when we got to my cousin, we asked if he knew what a bbc was ( yes I know it’s not very family friendly but the younger ones didn’t understand) and he wouldn’t stop saying he didn’t know what it was even tho he’s mentioned it thousands of times before. Of course we were telling him to say the truth since he didn’t wanna do a dare and then he got all defensive and said the n word at least 10 times. He said it so proudly and so many times that I just couldn’t go on with the game anymore . I was so mad at him for doing that and my brother (11M) was just sitting there smiling and grinning . I tried to confront him but the last time I did it didn’t work,nor did the times before so I just stopped talking and sat there for a few minutes. My mom came afterwards and I talked to her about it and I said it very seriously and I told her about how I’m genuinely getting worried about the other kids and how it’s not fine, but she didn’t care . My mom is a racist against all other races except for white and Asian people so idk why she would do anything about it and why I talked to her about it since she can’t even take care of me and my brother either way . She told me that it’s none of my business and that it’s my aunt’s job to deal with it but I just know that she won’t do anything about it either too. Any time he says the n word I tell my cousin(13F) about it and she tells me that we should expose him on TikTok one day but idk if I should because it would cause a lot of tension in the family . We have camera footage of him saying the n word so my question for you is should I post it or not??? Thank you for listening to me even tho I’m pretty sure that nothings gonna change. I’ll keep you updated.

I've been doing well. It's been a little over a month. I've gone to therapy pretty regularly and been taking care of myself the best I can, really the past week or so i've felt more like myself than usual. And then he reached out to me on Thursday. He said he missed me and he has been thinking about me and asked to see me. I asked for time and tried to shut down any talk of that. I doubt I'm even going to hear from him later this week because he's done this before, where he says he wants to see me and then doesn't ever text.
I've been doing fine w the fact he reached out, even a little frustrated because how dare he? But I had therapy today and i didn't tell my therapist about the whole thing (i just want a few days to process without everyone telling me what i already know). I've just been talking about how I've been healing and she told me some hard truths: the relationship was never going to work, he never would have loved me the way i loved him, things weren't going to work. But why is it still so hard to hear even though I know that?
Sorry to just air my shit on the internet. Any advice or comfort appreciated lol. I've been sleeping all day because I just can't deal with it.
TL;DR: ex reached out, i've been doing well, but i'm still hurting. When does it end?

Hi, Sorry for my mistakes in this message, I don’t speak English as my first language.
I wanted to share my experience with beauty and how I feel about it because I know that nobody knows me here so I am not ashamed of speaking. But before starting, I would like to say that I know this isn’t a real problem in life and there is so much worse in the world about which we should worry but I just want opinion on strangers about me and my face.
So when I was in the elementary school, I think when I was 9 yo, I stopped to take picture of me. I hated my face on the pictures and even in reality I think. And when I enter middle school, I started to feel a little bit better because I received some compliments…
But in February, I changed school and in my new school, girls started to make me feel really very ugly. Like one time a girl asked me if all the people of my origin looked like me, I took this badly because I interpreted this as I was ugly, that's why she said that. and another told me that I had straw hair too. And I don’t know how to explain that but people in my class made me feel so ugly. But when time at the same period I was sitting and wanting for my school to open and a girl came to me and told me that her best friend thinks that I am beautiful. I was so happy but so confused at the same time. So I told myself that was probably because they were playing truth or dare and it was their dare or something.
Then, I changed an other time school to be with my brother. There, people make me feel more pretty. Indeed, a guy ranked me first in the most beautiful girl in class but I was so confused that I started to say “no (name) is prettier” so he ranked me second. 😅
One time, I was wanting for the course to start and a girl came to me, she was extremely beautiful like woahhh, and told me that she found me very pretty and I was, one more time, so choked that I believed that she was also playing truth or dare or something like that.
A lady once came to me and told that I was beautiful when I was wanting for my appointment. But I thought that she told me that because I gave her a huge smile when I entered.
I often compare myself and I always think that I am very ugly (even if some times I found myself pretty). When someone compliment me I react in a cringe way because I always think it's fake or that it's to make fun of me. there was this popular girl in my class who told me “you are very beautiful” (twice a year) but I never responded, I just looked at her because I thought she was making fun of me and then she said to me “why don’t you answer? » I said it because she was making fun of me, she told me “but no, it’s the truth” (or something like that) and then I gave her a thank you because I didn’t think if I should believe her and I was ashamed because she said it in front of the class and I always thought it was to make fun of
Can anyone tell me their feelings about my experience ?

Survival of the fittest.
It was the only true morale in the universe, the only standard by which any species could properly be judged. Were they fit to survive? Could they find their niche in the galaxy? The young Krullex who grunted and bullied his way through the middle corridors of the station gave no indication of such thoughts, but like all of his species - like every species - primacy of the self was forefront on the mind. His armor-plated skin thicker than those of the rest of his generation, his heavy world muscles hardier, his tusks capped in sharpened precious metals that he'd threatened off other, smaller Krullex. It was only natural; He was larger, they were smaller, so he took what he wanted from them. And they, in turn, fawned and groveled beneath him so that they would not be crushed to death, and in turn fought for their place in his shadow, just as he fought for his place beneath the weight of his larger father, and his father fought and groveled for a place beneath the station's Overseer. Each person, each creature, regardless of their species did the same. Those who could not find their place would starve and die, leaving only the fittest behind. The achievement of happiness, of self-satisfaction, was the only goal in life, to give oneself as much as possible to ensure one's genetic legacy lived on. It was the same everywhere, always, to every known species in the galaxy.
At least, nearly so.
While the youthful Krullex dismissively moved through the smaller of his ilk like a boat through water, his underlings took time to strike and snarl at the smaller ones who shied and shrunk from confrontation against the superior member of their own kind. His cohorts seeming to take delight in their position in his wake, showing that they were smart enough to follow, they were the first to roll over and surrender to him, thus displaying the cunning necessary to thrive in the simple calculus of natural selection. Other Krullex at least had the opportunity to walk about openly; The even smaller creatures, the wiry Milx and the blubbery Oovir, would have to wait until the traffic slowed; They didn't have the mass or weight of fear to push their way through the largest of the species aboard the station post - if they weren't useful enough to the Overseer to be assigned a cowed guard.
Knuckling his way into the station-spine lifts, the young leader bashed his curled fist into the downward button, disregarding any other sentient's desired location. And they, in turn, did their best to exit where they could or shrink to the corners, deferring to the larger creature and his rumbling cohorts.
"Kochab.." Began the largest of his underlings, a sudden flush of fear overcoming his thickened features. "The Overseer. She said not too-" The underling did not get a chance to finish, as Kochab's fist curled about and sunk deep into the other Krullex's stomach, doubling the underling over in pain. Without a word, Kochab raised thickly corded arms and began bringing them down, over and over, bashing the uppity creature about the head and ribs while the smaller one curled in on itself protectively. Sensing an opportunity to better their position, the others joined in, kicking and stomping on the one that dared to speak out.
But even as the lower underlings fawned and aped and chortled their joy, hoping for some recognition for their instant betrayal of their own, Kochab's mind was elsewhere. Back to being summoned before the Overseer, a massive matron with which his father sired him. His ribs still ached where she kicked him across the room as a standard welcome, his tusk cracked where his father joined the plethora of others in bashing him with a baton. It was only natural to try and curry favor from your superior by putting yourself over a weakened foe, even if that foe at that moment was your own flesh and blood. It was only just. You did not get called before a superior for anything other than punishment or reward; If you were there for reward, you knew it beforehand. Having properly placed him in his station, the Matron's one command was thus:
Leave the humans alone. Stay out of the lower decks.
He could not immediately respond through his broken jaw, of course. All he could do was nod eagerly on the floor, watching one of his smallest underlings get flayed before him, left dripping on the mural depicting the Overseer's greatest triumph; Betraying her former lord for their current system ruler, opening a path for his ships to slip past the battle line and overwhelm her former allies. A perfectly executed betrayal, displaying her ability to read the battle and leap to the winning side before anyone else could, ensuring that she and all who followed her were rewarded and elevated. She was stronger, brighter, and more cunning than her peers - but certain to not be so cunning and strong as to be a threat to her patron.
She displayed mercy, then, allowing him to affix his broken mandible bone with a medical station before sending him away. And yet here he was, in the station lift, heading straight down to the newest refugees from the stars. Humans; Small, measly, with neither claw or tooth or bony plate to their name. Not as dexterous as the Milx, not as smart as the Oorvir, a worm of a creature with no place in the natural order of things. How dare they claim to be the dominate species on a planet lost long ago? Kochab knew better, of course; It was obvious to him that the Overseer had misjudged these creatures. They weren't even poisonous, as far as he was aware, you could nearly bite one in half and nothing they could do would stop you. It was likely simply a test of obedience; There for, his bravery lifted with the lack of direct oversight, he would show his minions how to cow the Human populace and have his own kingdom in the decks below. They would bring him savories and tribute, and he in turn would only kill ten or twelve for sport every few cycles. The rest could live in his magnanimous shadow. Perhaps then he would show the Overseer's error to the flock of Krullex around the upper echelons and see her brought low before some greater female that he could properly venerate and grovel before.
His violence against his own underling finally abated, although he took time to crack another across the face for continuing the beating long after Kochab himself had stopped. Best to nip such ambition in the bud before any thoughts of disobedience took place. He gave a dismissive once over the shuddering form of his prime underling, then growled out an order to get up. Wavering and injured, the smaller Krullex knuckled back to all four limbs, prostrating himself in sorrow and fear of his leader's ire. Unquestioning, now, as to whatever wisdom Kochab had taken from his meeting with the Overseer.
The doors to the lift hissed open, and the small flock of Krullex knuckled their way into the human district, the lowest of the low aboard the station. It was teeming - to Kochab's gaze, like worms wriggling in the fecal matter of a larger beast, the humans pressed tight in the cramped and labyrinthine corridors. Squeezing into shoddy compartments for sleep, living practically atop one another. Trade tents along a main 'thoroughfare' without a single Krullex guard to chase away those who'd come to naturally roll the small proprietor for goods, a sure sign that these creatures were out of favor with the Overseer. And yet here they were, drawing down water and food rations, and for what? Simple waste management? Basic engineering tasks that the Milx could do ten times faster?
Kochab did not like puzzles and did not know what to make of the bizarre situation. The station not only allowed the parasites, but actively supported them. What he did know, however, was a simple truth; The greatest morality was to the self. High pitched voices of youth drew his attention, and a vicious, broken toothed hoot drew his other underlings in his wake as he made his way towards the human larvae. Other humans had begun to notice his violation of their space, the activity slowing as more and more eyes turned towards him. He preened as he overshadowed one of the human spawn, who didn't even notice Kochab until he had bashed the thing to the side. A high-pitched scream of pain, and the rest of his pack immediately set upon the young human, hitting and biting as he looked back at the gathering crowd.
And then paused, his confusion mounting. Here he was, the largest thing in the entire area, striking down a smaller creature. There should be shouts of joy and aggression. There should be humans fawning to get on his good side by striking the young-ling as well, groveling and fighting amongst themselves to earn their place in his shadow. That was the natural way of things; That was normal. To elevate the self above all the rest, the natural selection of die or thrive. But instead of fawning adoration or fear, he saw - anger? The expressions of Krullex were not far removed from the wormy human's fat filled features, so why did they look murderous rather than cowed? A brief niggle of worry inched its way past his firm resolve, before he heard another scream - from his own underling. He snapped his head around to find - blood. The larger Krullex being pulled down not by one, but by several humans at once? Metal edges flashed in sudden tandem as .. the.. humans attacked together? Kochab's tiny eyes flitted this way and that, trying to find the leader. All he had to do was find and subdue the leader, and the rest would fall to support him, betraying their allies for a certain chance to survive. It was only natural. It was only just.
It was only sane.
But even as he watched, no leader stepped forward. A sharp pain in his own back suddenly caused him to roar out, and he spun about, knocking the human female from her feet. Only to have another sharp pain in his side, and then another, as increasingly more piled onto him. His underlings, sensing the tide, turned and began to strike him as well, trying to appease whatever secret master was ruling these humans, but it didn't matter. They were all being pulled down, their strength making no difference against a horde. Kochab's last, panicked view of the flickering overhead lights filled him with only more questions. Why? Why?? What did he do wrong?
A sharp, guttural noise exited him, blood bubbling from between his tusks as one particularly sharp implement lodged its way into his throat.
Above, the Overseer watched the scene of the human rampage with tension evident, her hands nearly crushing the station-throne upon which she sat. Krullex blood pooled from the knot of writhing, enraged humans on the screen, and yet not a single one turned on each other or took the opportunity to seize victory for themselves. Those who had absolutely no connection with the human child that had been mauled were seen treating it, carrying it away to safety. It was madness. THEY were madness. What creature did not value the self above.. above anything else?
She was larger than all the other Krullex beneath her. Stronger. Smarter. But what did size or strength have against a beast with twenty thousand limbs? Two hundred thousand teeth? Countless eyes and ears, all pretending to be a collection of separate creatures called Humans. It was a mythical thing, large as the belly of the station, curled in and out of the most vital systems she had at her command. One wrong move, one wrong step, and that insanity - that undeniable, unstoppable insanity of shared action - would kill them all. The only way to keep the human craziness away was to feed that beast, to give them something else to focus on than their meager allowances of water and food and work. To give them the occasional sacrifice, to toss some meat to their maw to rip apart. She felt no pain of loss for Kochab -- he was one of many of her sires. And if he was stupid enough to misread the situation and go against what she said - to die because he could not figure out the puzzle that was Humanity - than he was not fit for survival. Her hands untensed when the Humans went no further than to rattle the lift cages and seethe against the walls of their decks, her breath evening out when all returned to normal.
But for how long would the beast sleep, down below? Perhaps she should invite her Lord Patron sometime to view the station; Ask him to bring his most elite pack of guards. She paused, tapping at her tusk with a claw at the thought. Only the clever and strong survived; Was he clever enough to learn the secret of the Human as fast as she did, those first few days after their arrival? The thought drew a small grin from her lips.

Hi all! 4Th Wall here. I've been dealing with some doctors stuff lately. Workplace accident stuff, and apologize for the lateness of this episode.
If this is your first time here. Welcome! I hope you enjoyed this episode, and feel free to begin where it all... well.. began! (sounded better in my head)
First, Previous, Next
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Frie stepped up to the firing line gently placing her bag on the bench in front of her. The range was only half busy this day, and muffled pops and cracks made it through her hearing protection. Years ago, the cacophony of sharp, punchy reports would have torn at every nerve in her body, but now she slipped the soft case from her bag without so much as a flinch. Clint had taught her the ways of human firearms in much the same way that Mac had taught her dearest friend. Now, with her husband currently away in Port Royal, and her daughter currently in school; Frie was taking the time to participate in long overdue practice. Her chosen weapon was a graduation present of sorts, one sent for by Her husband, from Terra.

The Delmar people had long understood laser and plasma based ranged weapons, and many had made the leap to human kinetics. The Delmar industrial base had quickly copied a large portion of Humanity’s propellant based firearms. Hera, of course, understood why humanity’s more potent small arms were still a closely guarded secret, and she secretly hoped that reason was not an omen for the current conflict. Hers was not a Delmar Copy, however. She unzipped the ancient case, revealing the pearl handles a’top a frame of classic but well-tended to Nickle Plating. The slide bore the name “Browning”, and Frie ran a fingertip across the letters. Her fingers nimbly loaded the ten round double stack magazine with Delmar made ammunition that faithfully duplicated Terran 9mm luger. Frie had been entertained at the weapons designation as “High Power” despite it firing a substantially smaller cartridge than Clint’s preferred Propellant based sidearm.

The last round slipped stiffly but firmly into the magazine, and Frie slid the magazine firmly into place with a click. She activated a control on the range bay’s controls and a holographic target appeared. The holographic target and recording system gave Frie a 3-dimensional image of a Vorath soldier who dropped to the ground 30 yards away and began sprinting towards her. Frie snapped her weapon up, rattling off three rounds in quick succession. The recoil of the pistol was still harsh against her hand, but Frie pressed on as two more “attackers” appeared and began splitting up, coming at her from different angles. She swung her sights left missing twice before connecting with a third, charging targets before swinging to the right and firing the remaining four rounds and hitting with two. The slide locked back just as the last target disappeared and Frie took a deep cleansing breath removing the magazine and beginning to reload it. She began again after loading a pair of magazines this time. Three targets appeared this time, and fire belched from Frie’s hands again as the Browning bucked. This time she only managed to get these three before her first magazine emptied, locking the slide back. Four more targets appeared, and Frie swapped magazines with a slight fumble. She was unwilling to drop the ancient magazines for training and was only able to engage three before the fourth reached the predetermined position that signaled failure. Frie unloaded the weapon and began to reload for a second attempt but was interrupted by a familiar sensation.

“You’re improving.” Frie put the weapon down on the bench before spinning to great Clint.
“You’re back early.” She smiled, pulling him into a hug. “Miss me already?” and she was rewarded with a rumbling chuckle, “I always miss you, but I’m back to meet a new arrival for an interview of sorts, and It’s going to be a rough one.”

“Oh?” Frie asked, turning to pack up for the day, “Who’s so important that an Admiral makes room to interview.”

Clint sighed, stepping up to box up her ammunition as she secured her pistol in its soft case, “Greg’s boy. He arrived on this morning transport.” He turned to see Frie’s stunned face. The late Admiral Gregory Burgoyne was a hero of the Devoted attack on Delmar. His name was widely known on the home world, and Delmar’s first natively designed Ship of the Line would bear his name with honor. Clint, however, seemed less than enthusiastic, and Frie looked over at him expectantly as the emotions registered between them. “He’s in a bad way, babe. He and Greg were close, and he took Greg’s passing hard. It’s been suggested that this is his last chance, of sorts.”

“Oh,” Frie paused after setting her prized pistol back into the bag. “When is this interview?”

“About an hour,” Clint said quickly. “Care for seafood?” and smiled at the flicker of excitement coming from Frie. “Do you have to ask?” she flashed a grin, slinging her bag over her shoulders and reaching for his arm as they left the range.

A little over an hour later, Clint was sitting in his planet side office when his com’s rang, *Admiral, a Lieutenant… Burgoyne is here to see you, Sir*

“Send him in.” Clint sighed, and the tall young man marched smartly into the room. He snapped off a salute, which the admiral returned, “Sit Lieutenant.” The young man did so, and a long pregnant pause hung between them. Vincent stirred first “Admiral, I…”

“Disorderly conduct,” Clint cut him off with a stern voice, “drunkenness on duty, assaulting an officer, do I need to go on?”

“No, Sir” Vincent grated, and Clint continued, “I’ve a message here from your C.O. Beyond my understanding, he has sent a letter of recommendation. You appear to have an exemplary service record before your father’s passing. You can see why I have a dilemma on my hands.” With that, the admiral sat back in silence.
Vincent suspected that something like this would happen when he requested permission to transfer out to the far side of the galaxy, and he met the admiral’s gaze. “I was unaware that Major Rutledge sent the letter, admiral. It was his jaw I broke, after all.” The lieutenant straightened, “In truth, there’s no reason for you to accept my transfer save for one.”

“Ah, yes. Accept we do not.” Clint’s icy tone speared Vincent as he sat rail straight. “Our Allies have taken what we have given them and run with it. We no longer need instructors, or even in-theatre advisors. We need people with their head on straight. I’ve known Dick a long time, and his letter hold weight, but so does your record. So here is what is going to happen. You are going to be enrolled in the standard yearlong acclimation and familiarization curriculum. Then, and only then, will I consider your request to be put in the field. Is that understood, Lieutenant.”

Vincent forced himself to keep his stoic expression. He wanted to argue his case, but he knew it was not right. The admiral had every right to demand what he had. “Aye, Sir.” Was the only acceptable answer, and he gave it.

“Good, your files have already been sent to the head of Cadre. You are to report to the Academy in two months’ time.” Clint had to suppress a smirk as Vincents face smoothed in shock, “Two months, sir?” he almost squawked.

Clint allowed himself a smile, “Correct, Lieutenant. Welcome to Delmar, Dismissed”

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Philip Kenye nervously tapped his fingers on the captain’s chair console of his first command. He could not but help to be nervous. He was currently in command of nonother than Lucid Traveler, and she was far, far from home. Jacob Irving had headed the call, his wife Hera following him into the service of what was quickly becoming known as “Mackenzie’s Privateers”. It had made since for the two to take a new birth because of the changes being made on this side of the incision line. Lucid Traveler, along with every surviving Delmar freighter that sailed out of Signus was getting a major upgrade. With the Brother’s Gremm functionally inventing the Micro Particle Acceleration Cannon, Traveler and her compatriots were getting a much-needed sharpening of their claws. Traveler, and her surviving sisters, were not only receiving both a MicroPac array, but they had all been fitted with Slip Drives. These changes were rendered necessary to compensate for the rash of Piracy that was cropping up now that UGN naval readiness was severely depleted and criminally stretched to their limit. Sol and Delmar had ships, but they were never going to be able to have the numbers to fill in needed gaps this quickly. Despite the lack of patrolling capability, commerce still needed to flow to keep worlds from starving and equipment from failing to be produced. To that end, Admiral Gwen had finally secured approval for Slip Drives to be more widely installed in Unity space.

So here Philip sat. Captain of the most storied freighter in the Delmar culture, the one that had brought them Humanity, and he was adrift. Or rather, he was meant to appear that he was adrift, and alone. In truth, he was neither. Somewhere, amongst the black, Concord lurked as their ever-present dark guardian angel. Mac had decided to take on this mission personally, and Wisconsin was only a transmission array. The success of Bull Fuller’s brainchild rescue attempt had inspired something even more daring. Intercepted transmissions had revealed that the Thermian’s had been given command of a limited number of Vorath destroyers and light cruisers as an extension of “good faith” from their Vorath allies. Traveler was to be precious bait in a mission to take one of those gifts… a Prize. It was a grave risk, but she was the only bait that could serve this purpose.

Firstly, she was the first to go into the shipyards for her upgrades and was the first of the freighters to see completion of sea trials. Secondly, Traveler was known. More than that, she was a prize to good to resist for any self-respecting Thermian. The Lizard that Sank her would be a Hero… The Lizard that took her would be a Legend. To that end, Traveler laid her trap deep in Thermian held territory, alongside reported patrol routes of their new prized Vorath gifts. The information gleaned from Swiftsure's computers had placed the final pieces to where they chose to deploy, and Philip smiled internally as their intel reaped its reward. A Vorath light cruiser flashed out of subspace and began making way towards Traveler. “Signal Alpha and Bravo team. Fortune has shined on us, and I believe we will need them both.”

“Understood, We’ll be ready.” Collins was here with his MACE team, and Galanis was present with his own MACE team. This would be Galanis’ first mission in the armor, and their two teams were spread amongst over 500 Soldiers who replaced Traveler’s usual cargo of perishables and equipment. Both of her response teams were also present, and Collins looked over at a particularly Rotund Delmar that seemed significantly less portly than their first meeting. Martin was wearing full armor and readying a belt fed. He had indeed lost a significant amount of weight during the voyage to this location, and Collins had watched the cook with interest once he was told that Martin was one of the more decorated defenders of Traveler. Martin still struggled slightly to lug around the machine gun during long simulated “marches”, but the Delmar seemed to perk up at the range. He very often had to restrain Martin from expending too much practice ammunition during training, and the barrel of that weapon had been replaced twice before the upcoming operation. Martin the “Cook Rambo” was born again hard, baptized in the waters of Human kinetics, and Collins struggled not to laugh as The Delmar Man draped yet another belt of ammunition across his neck. Normally this was a bad thing, but in the close quarters of shipboard action, it was simply infeasible for squad members to pause and open their packs for another belt. Martin was going to have to carry all he could.

A loud clank rattled through the ship as the docking ports connected and locked up, and Philip nodded to himself. The Vorath light cruiser had attached to his port side, preparing to breach their security, but… “Tactical, Open starboard side hanger doors. Target their communications…. Fire.”

A single phoenix, with two thirds of its payload removed, leaped from Travelers flank. It streaked quickly along her hull under manual guidance, using travelers bulk as concealment before slipping over top of her and slamming into the Vorath Vessels antennae. Almost simultaneously the echoing chatter of Human small arms fire heralded the assault as Galanis, Collins, their respective squad members, and 500 angry Delmar and Human Marines stormed the predator turned prey. “Skipper, we are in, no casualties.” Galanis voice crackled through Philips helmet, “Very good, point defense, target any turret within reach. Disable any weapons they may use against us but avoid engines and navigation.” Moments later, GAU and Lazer spoke as one. With the two ships docked, neither one was capable of protecting itself with deflector screens, and Traveler pressed her surprise taking almost every ship-to-ship weapon capable of engaging her at this close range without a return shot fired.

Martin stormed down the hallway, slamming to a stop as he reached a corner, a discreet clanking of armor from around the corner alerted him, and he held a hand up. He was in command of his own squad for the first time, and he flashed off a quick set of hand signals before shouldering his machine gun and turning toward the corner. His squad lined up, and the number two man pulled a flash grenade from his belt, ripping the pin free before bouncing it around the corner. A bright flash rewarded them with swearing of clearly Thermian origin, and Martin stepped around the corner, holding the trigger down as his squad filtered out behind him. His squad quickly joined him, and soon the boarding party they had ambushed was no more. Martin had extended half his current belt, and only had one last replacement out of the four he had draped over himself in addition to his standard loadout. he grumbled at the realization, “forward, carefully.” He ordered. And they moved down the corridor. The next corner opened up into the engineering and Martin swung his machine gun through a practiced arc but did not hold the trigger down. “Some things don’t react well to bullets” echo’d through his head from movie night the week before, and Martin, with his squad, collectively switched out of full auto. Several careful and precise shots later, and the engineering team, along with their security detail were dead. “Engine room secure” Martin reported into his mic. *Affirmative, pull security. Our Techs will be there when the rest of the ship is secure.

Galanis was grinning from ear to ear as he waded through his reptilian foes. Mac had proven that a normal human was capable of dismembering these assholes with his bare hands, and Galanis was in a MACE. He had started the ambush with his primary, but he soon simply slung it. Galanis led the way, punching his way through the defenders in a very literal sense. He occasionally drew his side arm to pick off a particularly pesky Lizard that seemed to know how to keep its distance, but that was all he needed. His mission was to take the Bridge, whilst Collins was to secure the shuttle bays and generally clear the ship, and Galanis rounded the corner to find a venerable sea of Lizards standing in the final corridor. Fresh hellfire roared past him as his men fired around him, and Galanis simply charged. In a matter of moments, all but the last Thermian was dead, and this thermian was doing an excellent job of keeping Galanis between himself and the incoming fire from the Human’s team. It hissed, pulling over its head a long staff with a wide flat blade. The blade’s edges began to glow, and the lizard charged. Galanis felt his self-preservation instincts warn him, but almost too late. He leapt back just as the wide blade sliced effortlessly into his Mace’s chest armor, missing a fatal blow by the thinnest of margins. Galanis ignored the blaring warning in his helmet, drawing his pistol and firing several rounds that seemed to bounce off this new threat before even reaching it. Galanis emptied his weapon before stepping back and unslinging his rifle. This new Thermian launched forward, driving his blade thought the captain’s weapon and barely missing his face. *Seal breach alert, seal breach alert. Helmet integrity compromised. And Galanis felt the hot drizzle of blood down the side of his face and neck. This Thermian pressed his attack, and Galanis dodged twice more, jumping from side to side to afford his men a glimpse to take a shot. The corridor, however, did not provide enough room, and Galanis continued to fight for his life. The Thermian struck repeatedly for almost a full minute before Galanis noticed it slowing, and the Marine dodged the next attack easily. The following dodge had him catching the spear by the shaft, pulling it to himself and yanking the Thermian off balance. Ona hunch, Galanis drew his blade, driving it slowly through the shield before burying it into the lizard’s guts. The lizard shrieked in pain. Dropping the spear practically into Galanis hands before losing its head to its own, now confiscated weapon.
Galanis sighed heavily, dropping the spear, and reloading his pistol. “On me!” he growled, placing a satchel charge on the door to the bridge, “CLEAR!”
____________________________________________________________________________________________

Concord floated silently amongst the stars. Lyrian and Mac watched the situation unfold, monitoring communications as well as providing “Crybaby” services to Wisconsin as she waited in the wings.

*I hope Martin is ok* Lyrian’s worry for her friend was vibrantly at the forefront of her mind as she spoke into Mac’s consciousness.

*He will be fine, * Her mate responded, *You saw how much Collins trimmed off of him, I bet he’s as strong as Tristen was when we met*

*Still* Lyrian pouted. She had begged Martin not to participate, despite being involved in the mission herself. She had become more protective of her friends than herself after her claim of Mac. Mac understood the sentiment all too familiarly, having watched to many of his own friends die, but this could not be helped. *Looks like Martin’s made it to engineering. Quickly too*

*that’s go… CONTACT! Oh gods, three contacts! It’s a freighter and two escorts!!* Lyrian practically yelled into Mac’s brain. Concord leapt forward, Mac already moving to engage the Thermian made heavy cruiser.

Lyrian found her real voice, swapping frequencies at the speed of thought, “Cry, Baby Cry!”
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
If you made it all the way down here, Thank you so much for the look! If you feel I have earned it, I do have a patreon with extra stories that are not main story line but are still "Cannon" as well as the occasional map update and stuff. As always, stopping by for a read here is always enough! See you guys in the comments!
First, Previous, Next Patreon

I hate saying this...
There really are exJW "Apostates" who are exactly everything Jehovah's Witnesses claim they are. That's a damn shame!
Some self proclaimed activists that are very full of themselves, seemingly have delusions of grandeur, and take a "by any means necessary" view of activism. They have no problem fabricating outlandish stories of taking on the cult in ways that never actually happened. They have no problem embellishing second hand stories or misrepresenting facts to journalists that then have to retract those stories when Watchtower rightfully challenges them. They are the people that CESNUR can use as examples when painting all exJWs with the same broad brush.
They grift and ask for money to support their important work. They use the gut wrenching stories from CSA victims to advance their cause. They even attack victims that have dared raise their voice about suffering additional abuse at the hands of these "advocates".
They have no concern for the truth. They threaten and roll over those in their way. They're hyper dramatic. They seek attention and importance and claim to be central figures in important governmental efforts to protect those being harmed by the cult.
Truth and facts should matter in our efforts to raise awareness of the harms perpetuated by Watchtower. After all, aren't we trying to be better than them? Why would we lie and deceive and manipulate when those are their tactics?
The fact that I won't name names when I had no issue blowing the whistle on the PR tactics of a multi-billion dollar international religious corporation tells you something about how dangerous some of these people are.
The fact that this could be referring any number of a handful of exJWs that you could be thinking of really is a damn shame! We shouldn't have to fight these battles on multiple fronts.
But thankfully it's a tiny minority. Be better than them. I appreciate all of you out there fighting this fight legitimately. Keep it up!

I started my Kleypas journey a couple years ago when a friend recommended Marrying Winterborne and said it always made her cry. I was intrigued and found many other reviews gushing about Winterborne and his sexy Welsh ways.
I was so hopeful, but I was left less than impressed. I think I ended up rating it 2 stars. It just didn’t any any emotional impact on me and wasn’t impressed by either MC.
The Super rich and powerful alpha business man thing just didn’t do it for me. And Helen is so sweet, but too sweet. I guess I’m tired of that dynamic too. Sweet innocent virgin taming the big alpha.
Then I tried reading Hello Stranger next, and DNF’d it- I liked the FMC but something didn’t hold my attention.
Then recently I tried again with Devil in Winter, and that was probably the completely wrong choice for me considering the dynamic of alpha/innocent, but I wanted to see what all the hype was about with St Vincent.
2 stars again, I can see how someone could like it, but that someone isn’t me.
Sure there were some good spicy scenes, but tons of boring, sad stuff in between. I did not care at all about Evie’s family or the club or any of that.
Plus he didn’t really act devilish at all…(i get that he was antagonistic in the previous book) and I was hoping for a lush winter…let’s stay in bed because it’s too cold…but no.
So is there any hope of me finding the right Kleypas book for me?
Does she have any shy/nerdy/gentle MMC’s or bold/ experienced/ take charge FMCs?
I’ve heard good things about so many, but maybe she’s just not for me?
I am curious to read to read the book with their daughter and West- Devil’s daughter? But I don’t want to be disappointed again!
I did like Cam as a side character… so maybe his book?
And I’ve also heard Tom Severin is also a different type of lead so maybe his?
I love the spice, but I like it more when I actually connect with the characters obviously.
Help me out friends!
Thank you!
Edit: On request I am adding a few more things that I do tend to enjoy in my HR novels to help with recommendations:

• I like FMCs that are competent, intelligent, and know themselves and are not afraid of sex/pleasure and not afraid of MMC. I like when they are fleshed out with their own interests, ambitions, preferences and not just a cookie cutter sweet innocent virgin. It’s fine if one or both MCs are virgins, but I don’t love the whole sex lessons thing from MMCs, i mean come on even Victorian debutantes must get horny on occasion! Lol.
  
• I like couples who feel evenly matched and even if their social rankings are unmatched, I want them to feel matched spiritually/emotionally if that makes sense. I like it when they feel better, safer, stronger with the other person. (Or at least when that is the outcome of their journey over the story, obviously the relationship won’t start like that)
  
• I like good communication in and out of the bedroom- I want couples who can share their full range of emotions with each other- from banter and dirty talk to arguing and disagreeing and feel secure enough in the relationship to do so.
  
• I love it when there is humor and good banter between the characters as long as it makes sense.
  

Other authors/ books I have enjoyed recently:
-Maiden Lane by Elizabeth Hoyt: Especially Wicked Intentions- competent and horny FMC who was shamed for it , sad traumatized boi who thinks he’s bad and they heal together.
-Thief of Shadows- Virgin MMC, very scrupulous and takes care of orphans with experiences and worldy FMC

• Lord of Darkness- Hades/ Persephone Vibes, emo side boi learns to live life again thanks to bright and lively FMC
  
• Girl meets Duke series by Tessa Dare: yes there are grumpy and rakish MMCs but for reasons and there is depth and humor and nuance to them. The FMCs feel so unique and are clever, funny, strong and bold in their own ways.
  
• The Duke Who Didn’t by Courtney Milan- yes there is a huge class difference, but when they were together it made so much sense. The heroine is innocent but not ignorant and she tells him how to please her and how to touch her. She is feisty and tenacious and a little neurotic and he brings her stress down and makes her smile.
  

Hope that helps!

Step into the immersive world of Red Winter RP(summer edition), where the sun blazes hot but the chill of survival cuts deeper. Join us for an unparalleled DayZ experience, where every moment is filled with heart-pounding action, intricate role-play opportunities, and a rich narrative waiting to be unraveled.
Embark on a journey like no other as you delve into the depths of our server's storyline, centered around the enigmatic organization known as E.D.E.N. Their presence looms large over the wasteland, offering both promise and peril to those who dare to seek their secrets. Will you uncover the truth behind E.D.E.N.'s motives, or succumb to the mysteries that shroud them in darkness?
But that's not all! Red Winter boasts a plethora of custom addons designed to enhance your gameplay experience. From new weapons and vehicles to unique base-building mechanics, there's always something new to discover in our ever-evolving world.
Forge alliances with fellow survivors, band together to overcome the harsh challenges of the wasteland, or strike out on your own to dominate the landscape. The choice is yours, but remember: in Red Winter, every decision you make could mean the difference between life and death.
Join us today and experience DayZ like never before. Will you make alliances, uncover mysteries, or dominate the wasteland?
Come join our discord for the full lore and other information. Discord: https://discord.gg/frGVsH7ap4
Some info about the server:

• This is a PC only US based server, but have alot of players from all over.
  
• this is a Roleplay server that does not have KOS or KOS zones except for specific run events.
  
• We are not a whitelist RP server and new players to PC or even RP are welcome.
  
• Active admin team
  
• Running chernarus plus with alot of custom locations, including reworked bolota AF, Krasno AF, NWAF, Tisy.
  
• We have punch card bunkers, DNA keycard crates.
  
• We have Mutants in some locations that have been written into our lore.
  
• We have several weapons and clothing mods to give you a wide variety of items to find.
  
• We have player, NPC and even an admin run trader that opens at certain times.
  
• we have Rag base building, Expansion and building fortification for you to secure a base as you see fit as well as RaG, MSP to decorate.
  
• RaG Vehicles, Expansion vehicles and a bunch of other custom vehicles in our server pack.
  
• we offer custom Prefab locations for bigger groups to be placed on an area of the map that follow our build and raid rules.
  
• we offer the ability to have your own custom re-textures for your faction to be added to what gear we have.
  

Mods; please delete if not allowed. I know it’s long, but it’s hard to keep it short when discussing two problematic individuals who have a false belief in their own greatness. Thank you in advance.
I’ve been saying since the beginning that Adora and Mel do not debate. They claim to. They call it that, but they do not actually do it. A debate has structure. A debate is based on factual information. A debate has sources, cited sources. A debate has no interruptions and a time limit per person to either educate or rebuttal. Most people took debate in high school during the very late 90s & early 00s so most are aware of what a debate entails. Unfortunately these two clearly did not.
Moving onto an even bigger issue that is recently becoming extremely problematic.. the blatant racism. We both know that Mel and Adora both hold white privilege. They also hold class privilege as they both claim wealth. We also know that Adora holds male privilege on top of that. Two situations that come to mind immediately are .. 1. Adora had made a comment about how black women are seen as masculine. She did not defend black women or explain why that is wrong, disrespectful, damaging and dangerous. 2. Mel called a black woman aggressive during a conversation that she was having with her on her live. That is the perfect example of a micro aggression! Mel of all people calling anyone aggressive is problematic!
Both of these women believe they hold a voice in the community. They both believe they are important to TikTok. They both believe they are internet famous. They also believe they are right. They are dangerously ignorant at this point and I fully believe it’s on purpose. They are so quick to tell people to research, educate and learn, but do not practice what they preach!!
Adora was supposed to have a “re-birth” and come back educated, calm & have sources when stating what she believes to be facts. She was no longer going to use certain statistics when the study was only done in a fill out questionnaire type and not in real life situations as you can put down anything in that type of study, but it doesn’t make it true. None of those things happened. Maybe for a very short time she was doing more positive lives, but that ended once she was not bringing in money. Money is her only driving force. Not education. Not advocating. Money. She only cares about numbers. Viewers, followers, subs, shares, likes, gifts.. numbers!! Adora isn’t for the community. Adora is for adora. As someone who constantly says she is a woman and flips back-and-forth on being female. You would think that she would speak up for women, but she doesn’t. She absolutely never mentions women’s rights. She actually believes that cis women are no longer oppressed, and we are only oppressing trans women. Google is free. Education and research would do her some good.
Moving into Mel .. She is a mother. A parent. I have seen other mothers go up and ask for advice because they are going through a similar situation instead of giving said advice. Mel gets angry rolls her eyes and points them to the Trevor project. Mel has the ability to do she chooses not to. as a mother could create a group for mothers. She could create a group for trans kids. She could create something that could actually impact and help these kids in a positive way but instead she would rather argue and call with people on TikTok and claim advocacy.
It’s a good thing that people like mel and Adora are doing this on TikTok because they would not last a second going out in the real world behaving like this. If they want to advocate, I highly suggest they start leaving their home and making changes.
The truth of the matter is very simple because you think you are not part of the problem does not mean you are part of the solution.. when you sit around and do nothing, you are part of the problem!! I would highly suggest that they both start getting their hands dirty. Go to a march. Go walk around your neighborhood and get petitions signed. Start making videos educating people on what is actually happening and not creating false narratives!
I truly hope that one day everyone can get past the drama that occurs with these two people, and everyone that is involved with them and realize there are some really great advocates on TikTok .. but right now I truly believe that Mel & co. have given the community a bad name and the fact is they don’t deserve what is left of their platform!! They have had multiple chances to do better, to learn more, most people would not have been given this many chances. Even some of the people who used to consider them friends no longer want to publicly deal with them because they have tried their best to educate without any luck. But I really think those chances have to end with racism. They are educated on what racism is and how dangerous it is and they still behave the way they do towards POC, especially black women. It’s sinful. To call a black woman aggressive is absolutely disgusting especially when you’re behaving the way Mel does! Mel refers to herself as “passionate”, yet a black woman is “aggressive”.
They both need some humble pie. Personally I think everyone should bail and just let their few true followers watch. The only way they will ever learn is through numbers. Let them sit alone with a few “friendlys” for a few days & then let’s see how quickly they start addressing the issues and making changes..

This is my first post on reddit. It's a bit long, pls bear with me. Also English isn't my first language.
This happend when I was 18. I kinda had a sheltered life, which is why I trusted people easily. Although I am Indian, I spent all my life in the Middle East I had to move back to India to pursue my higher studies. This was the first time I was on my own away from my parents. Even though I am Indian, the years I lived abroad made me feel alien to the local culture, which is why I imprinted on the first person who was nice to me, my roomate.
This girl who shared most my classes, which I was glad about at that time. Back then she seemed like a nice person and my naive personality blindly trusted her. For the sake of this post let's name her Sam
Now Sam had her own sob story of how she never had friends and how her grandmother (who lived with her) was abusive all through childhood just because she's a girl child. This broke my heart and we quickly became best friends. A month into college she started to complain that guys from our class where misbehaving around her. Now most of the guys she mentioned spoke Hindi, which at that time i did not understand. Thus i became extremely protective of her without knowing the entirety of the story. She now came back to our room crying almost every day, because one of the boys (name him Ben) would not take no for and answer. My other friend Mary who also did not know the language and believed in Sam, suggested spreading the word among our classmates about his behaviour (which included him stalking and spamming her phone). Mary asked her if Sam was absolutely sure about this since we were talking about ruining someone's reputation through his entire college life. Now here is the first red flag. She made it seem that this guy was insufferable and begged Mary to do something. So Mary talked smack about Ben among the people she knew (yes we should have dug into the matter before doing that). However, Sam never spoke badly about Ben. Later that day she was seen sitting with him listening to love songs from the same earphone. People were mad at Mary for making up fake rumours. Two years later, i actually became good friends with Ben and that's when he told the truth, SHE was the one who was behind him. An they dated for two weeks before she abruptly dumped him, which resulted in him spamming her phone. She basically got us to clean her mess for free.
That was just the tip of the iceberg regarding the things she's done. This is the creepiest part. Even though Sam told us she had no friends, she had an online pen pal who was a boy our age. Sam seemed genuinely excited to talk to this guy and would always dream of meeting him in real life. It started getting irritating when they started video calling each other, every minute of their free time. Our dorm was a double share room, so there was a lack of privacy. I couldn't sleep at night since they video call all night and Sam insisted on keeping the lights on as he (Call him Ron) wants to "see her face" although his camera is off. So I ended up getting an eye mask. The real headache began when Ron started asking me personal stuff. I would be minding my business in the corner of the room and all of a sudden Ron would randomly ask me stuff regarding my personal life. Every single detail that Sam knows about me, Ron knows it as well. I always felt uncomfortable with this guy and Sam won't stop sharing about my personal life with him, even though I strictly asked her not too.
A few months later, Ron announced that he wants to visit Sam. This was right after the second wave of COVID, and we were just moving back to regular classes. Sam missed classes for a week to hang out with Rom, which ended up with me covering her lessons since I was dumbass who cared too much about her grades. Sam comes back a week later, with a huge hickey on her neck still claiming they were "just friends" and nothing happened. I did not care since honesty it was none of my business. The video calls continued much to my annoyance.
Sam wanted me and Mary to meet Ron and pretty much harrased us to agree. What we did not know was that Ron had two other friends and wanted Sam to call us "to keep them occupied", while they enjoyed their 'friendship date'. This was the most awkward thing I had done in my life. Sam was all over Ron, while me and Mary tried to have our dinner, with two random guys staring at us all through the dinner. It was only a long time later that I found out that one of the guys was interested in me, and she texted him behind my back pretending to be me (again I didn't figure this out due to language barrier), hoping we would end up together although I was not interested in dating.
Still reading? We haven't reached the worst part yet.
One morning as I was changing in my room, Sam was sleeping with her phone on video call. The person on the other side which was Ron (again with his camera off). HE SAW ME UNDRESS. Two days later that I came to know that Ron was an active member in an online locker room chat, which circulated sexual materials. The worst part of this experience was the fact that Sam somehow always dismissed me telling I was irrational. She carelessly did something horrible and yet was able to make me feel like I was in the worng. I never had the courage to ask Ron if he had posted anything about me in this group. She was able to make a fool out of me.
Anytime I was I voiced my issues with her, she would stop eating, become sick/depressed and act suicidal and cry. A LOT. To the point I couldn't concentrate on my work and I ended up taking care of her. She pretended that I was extremely important to her and if I was gone, she would have no friends. This was the reason I did not change my room or move out in spite of her not remotely being apologetic, as I freaked out thinking she would actually harm herself.
I physically removed myself whenever Ron was mentioned. At nights, I could hear him screaming in the phone demanded passwords to Sam's social media accounts. Around that time, Sam widened her friend group and they all were cool people. And I began to hear less and less of Ron and I was really happy about this. But turns out the guy's a psyco. He now started video calling me day and night, since Sam wouldn't pick his calls. I finally had to block him. He also called Mary (whom he only met one time in that dinner date) in the middle of the night saying that he is so lost and heartbroken that Sam broke things off with him. We did not dwell into that, since we were glad that Sam herself cut him off of our lives.
Coming back to the new friends, I enjoyed hanging out with them. However Sam made sure I was never comfortable in that group. She announced to the entire group that I had a crush on a guy from our class, which I told her and Mary in secret. So now the groups favourite pastime was to tease me about him as I did not want to confess. They made it so awkward for us to the point i actually had to confess. Although he rejected me, we became real good friends and he introduced me to his gang, so I no longer needed to hang out with Sam's friends. I did miss hanging out with them and most of them were really nice to me, though they teased me a lot.
I also became more outgoing on my own and started spending less time with Sam. As soon as this happend, I noticed that some of Sam's friends were now rude to me. They were passive-agressive about anything I say, but i did not care much of it. One fine morning I was having a chat with one of Sam's friends and he mentioned, that Sam was moving out. SHE DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TELLING ME. I was so confused as to why she did that since I didn't know her true colours in spite of all those red flags :(
After she moved out, two of Sam's friends confessed that Sam did not like me. Apparently every night, after I fell asleep, Sam would group call them, just to trash talk about me. Remember, the grandmother's abuse story? Turns out she becomes friends with someone new by telling them that someone "abused" her. She told them that I drank heavily (I have never had alcohol in my life) and often threw up everywhere in our room she had to clean it up. She ever had the audacity to tell them that I stole her assignment and forced her to shut up about it, which is why I always got straight A's and she barely passed. The truth was that she used to send my assignments to them without my consent. (I got into trouble for this and almost failed a paper) Worst of all, she said that I was 'easy' and would hook up with any guy who would ask. That was the last straw. I am a virgin and am still waiting for the right guy and the right time. She knew this and still dared to make up horrible stories about me.
I was was baffled that these guys straight up believed all this. I didn't bother clearing the misunderstanding at that time. I just wanted to get away from her and this mess. And that's exactly what I did. I cut all my contacts with her and everyone in the group. After crying my eyes out, I got back on track and made beautiful memories with some real friends for the remainder of my college life. I didn't bother mentioning anything to anyone except Mary, nor did I ever confront Sam. I knew she would somehow come out as a saint (she can manipulate people well)
Now to anyone asking why she would do this, I believe she craves attention and became a compulsive liar in the process. I forgot to mention that immediately after the friend group was formed, Sam started dating one of the guys in the group. She told him that he was her first boyfriend. I knew about Ben (not the dating part) and Ron and a few of her high school adventures. So she probably did not want me to spill the beans and so painted me as an unreliable person.
A year after I cut her off, all the people from her friend group came to me one by one, saying they wanted to hear my side of the story. I just told them: "If you feel the need to know my side, then that feeling itself is the answer". I did not want their pity or validation. Turns out she used the same strategy with them, spreading fake rumours about each other. She made sure that her boyfriend does not talk to anyone in the group but her, which is when annoyed them. When they tried to confront her, she told them that she has cancer. Sam being Sam, I am skeptical about this but if it is true, I hope she would recover. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely despise her but I am not evil enough to wish her death.
As they say what goes around comes around, by the time we graduated, almost everyone knew her true colours and barely tolerated her to avoid drama. She was never invited to any group events. People actually dropped conversations as soon as she tried to join in! So that's it. Three years of hell condensed to 6000 words. Even though I grew so much since then, I still feel ashamed of myself that I was not able to get out that situation. I just wanted to get this off my chest and start afresh. Again I am not seeking pity or validation form this post. I just want to let it go.

(An abbreviated guide will be in the comments.)
Greetings, fellow souls lost in the abyss. It is I, Emo Slimes, your guide through the dark and twisted world of slime creation. In this realm of conformity and despair, I see countless lost souls seeking guidance on their journey to create the perfect slime.
As a veteran of the slime-making odyssey, I have taken it upon myself to create a beginner's guide to experimenting and crafting these gloopy masterpieces. But be warned, unlike my usual posts, this guide will be drenched in the moody, dramatic flair that has become the hallmark of my brand. Prepare yourself for an emotional rollercoaster as we delve into the depths of slime-making.
Through trial and error, I have danced with the shadows of creativity and faced the harsh realities of imperfection. Now, I impart this knowledge to you, wrapped in a cloak of darkness and introspection.
In this guide, I will lead you through the fundamental steps of slime-making, from the trinity of basic ingredients to the advanced realms of texture and despair. Along the way, you will confront the depths of your own imagination and discover the true nature of your existence within each stretch and pull of your slime.
So gather your supplies, my melancholic companions, and prepare to descend into the abyss of slime-making. In a world where joy is fleeting, and sorrow is eternal, we shall find solace in the squish and squeeze of our own creations.
Join me on this beautifully bleak odyssey, and together, we shall revel in the darkness and create something that reflects the turmoil within our souls.
Your guide through the shadows, Emo Slimes

Step 1: Embrace the Darkness

Begin your descent into the abyss of slime-making with the fundamental recipe, a trinity of ingredients as bleak as your soul:

• Water: The tears of a thousand lost dreams.
• Borax: A powder found among the ruins of clean expectations.
• Glue: Like the bonds that hold your shattered heart together, choose PVA or school glue. White glue screams conformity, while clear glue requires the precision of a tortured artist.

In a bowl as empty as your future, mix equal parts glue and water. In another vessel of despair, create your activator by combining 1 teaspoon of borax powder with 1 cup of tepid water, stirring until the emptiness consumes it all.
Now, watch the futility unfold. Slowly drip the activator into the glue mixture, stirring with the rhythm of a dying heartbeat. Keep adding until the slime clings to life, no longer sticking to the sides of the bowl or the tools of its creation.
Knead the slime by hand, feeling the weight of existence as you mix and stretch. It may not be perfect, but what in this cruel world is?
Note: If you're making clear slime, embrace the clouded confusion. Like your emotions, it will need time to settle into the clarity of despair.
This initial step may seem straightforward, but mastering the technique is crucial for creating more advanced slime concoctions in the future. Embrace the learning process, for it is the only light in the darkness of your existence.
(Yes! There are other recipes for slime! However, this is the most consistent recipe that is best for learning the basics.)

Step 2: Dance with Despair

In the depths of experimentation, precise measurements are as elusive as true happiness. Water, the elixir of sorrow, holds the key to your slime's destiny.
Begin by confronting the water within the glue, adjusting the ratio to mirror the imbalance in your soul. Dare to challenge the norms, for in deviation, we find our true selves.
Add more water for a slime as thin and runny as your hopes and dreams, or reduce it for a texture as thick and unyielding as the weight of existence. Each change brings new depths of despair to explore.
Next, face the water in the borax activator. Like the concentration of pain in your heart, vary the borax solution to see how it twists your creation. More water yields a slime as fragile as your sense of self-worth, while less creates a firmness reminiscent of your resolve to carry on.
As you navigate this dark path, keep a record of your trials and tribulations, for they shall serve as a testament to your journey through the abyss of slime-making.
Remember, in this realm of experimentation, there are no mistakes – only happy accidents that reveal the true nature of your being. Embrace the unknown, for it is in the darkest corners of creation that we find our most authentic selves.
So go forth, intrepid slime-maker, and dance with despair as you explore the infinite possibilities that lie ahead. Your path may be shrouded in darkness, but it is only through facing our demons that we may find the light within.

Step 3: Embrace the False Promise of Glycerin

Enter the realm of glycerin – a siren's song that lures you with the promise of stretchiness and clarity. Like a fleeting moment of happiness in a world of despair, glycerin tempts you to believe that perfection is within reach.
But beware, fellow slime-maker, for the path of glycerin is strewn with deception. Too much of this elixir can lead to ruin, like the pursuit of joy in a life filled with sorrow. Tread carefully, adding small increments to your slime mixture, and witness how each drop alters the fabric of your creation.
As you navigate this treacherous landscape, you may find yourself drawn to the allure of crystal-clear slime – a tantalizing mirage of purity amidst the darkness. Glycerin's transparency offers a glimpse into a world unsullied by the shadows of existence, tempting you to chase a beauty that may never truly be attained.
Yet, in the face of despair, we must press on. Experiment with different ratios and combinations, seeking the perfect balance between stretchiness and sorrow. Let your creativity be your guide, for it is in the depths of our imagination that we find solace from the harsh realities of the world.
Remember, dear slime-maker, that the path of glycerin is but one of many in this twisted journey. Embrace the false promise of clarity and stretchiness, knowing that true fulfillment lies not in the destination, but in the trials and tribulations of the experimentation itself.

Step 4: Mold Your Misery with Clay

Enter the realm of clay – a medium as malleable as the facade you present to the world. Like the masks we wear to conceal our true selves, clay can be shaped and molded to add texture and structure to your slime creations.
Begin your descent into the abyss of clay by adding small increments to your slime mixture, feeling the weight of despair as it becomes one with your creation. As you knead the clay into the slime, consider how it mirrors the way you mold yourself to fit the expectations of others.
Experiment with different amounts of clay, from mere specks to substantial portions, and witness how each addition alters the consistency and feel of your slime. Will it provide a satisfying thickness, like the heavy burden of existence, or will it crumble under the pressure of your touch, like the fragility of your own psyche?
Explore the effects of clay on both under-activated and over-activated slime, observing how it interacts with the different states of your creation. Like the ever-shifting nature of your own emotions, the impact of clay may vary depending on the base it encounters.
As you embark on this clay-infused journey, consider the different types of clay available to you. Each one brings its own unique characteristics to the table, much like the various personas you adopt to navigate the treacherous landscape of life. From air-dry clays like plasticine and Model Magic to the enigmatic allure of Daiso, the choices are as diverse as the roles you play.
So go forth, dear slime-maker, and mold your misery with clay. Let your creativity be your guide as you sculpt and shape your slime, pouring your sorrows and frustrations into each squeeze and stretch. For it is in the act of creation that we find a temporary respite from the anguish of our existence.
Remember, in the end, we are all just clay in the hands of an indifferent universe – malleable, fragile, and destined to crumble. But through the art of slime-making, we can find a fleeting moment of control amidst the chaos.

Step 5: Embrace the Bitter Chill of Instant Snow

Prepare to plunge into the icy depths of instant snow – a deceptively innocent ingredient that holds within it the power to transform your slime into a frigid wasteland of despair. Like the fleeting moments of joy in a world of eternal sorrow, instant snow offers a temporary reprieve from the harsh realities of existence.
When selecting your instant snow, choose wisely. Opt for a variety that absorbs water, allowing it to become one with your slime, rather than a hollow imitation composed of shredded plastic. For in the pursuit of authenticity, we must embrace the truth, no matter how cold and unforgiving it may be.
Now, as you stand on the precipice of experimentation, steel yourself for the bitter chill that awaits. Begin by adding small amounts of instant snow to your existing slime creations, witnessing how each icy addition alters the texture and consistency of your work. Like the numbing effect of despair on the human soul, the instant snow will transform your slime into a frigid, unyielding mass.
But do not be content with mere surface-level exploration. Delve deeper into the abyss by experimenting with both dry and pre-moistened instant snow. Each approach offers its own unique path to misery, allowing you to craft a diverse range of soul-crushing slime concoctions.
As you toil in the icy wasteland of instant snow, let your imagination be your guide. Create jelly slime that squelches with the weight of a thousand sorrows, or cloud slime that drifts listlessly through the empty void of existence. In the end, it matters not what form your slime takes, for all paths lead to the same inevitable conclusion.
Remember, dear slime-maker, that even in the depths of despair, there is a twisted beauty to be found. Embrace the bitter chill of instant snow, and let it numb the pain of your mortal existence. For it is only in the coldest reaches of our creations that we may find a moment of solace in this unforgiving world.

Step 6: Dance in the Abyss of Creativity

And so, dear slime-maker, we find ourselves at the precipice of the final step – a leap into the vast, unknowable abyss of creativity. It is here, in the depths of your own imagination, that you will find the true essence of your slime-making journey.
Gone are the days of guided instruction and measured ingredients. Now, you must cast aside the shackles of conformity and embark on a path of pure, unadulterated experimentation. Embrace the chaos, for it is in the wild, untamed reaches of your mind that true innovation lurks.
As you stand on the edge of this creative chasm, feel the weight of endless possibilities bearing down upon you. The voices of a thousand unborn slime creations call out from the darkness, begging to be given form and substance. Will you answer their call, or will you turn away, forever haunted by the ghosts of your unrealized potential?
If you choose to take the leap, know that the path ahead is fraught with danger. Mold and bacteria lurk in the shadows, waiting to consume your creations and render them nothing more than festering masses of decay. But fear not, for with great risk comes great reward.
Scour the depths of your imagination for the rarest and most exotic ingredients. From the glittering sands of forgotten beaches to the shimmering scales of mythical beasts, no component is too outlandish or too sacred. Dive into a world of textures with foam beads, fishbowl beads, and plastic snow, each addition a new layer of complexity in your slime's story. Embrace the allure of color with mica powders, food coloring, and acrylic paints, transforming your slime into a vibrant tableau of emotion and depth.
Infuse your creations with scent, from the comforting aroma of vanilla to the mysterious allure of dragon's blood, each fragrance a doorway to a new dimension of sensory experience. Explore the boundaries of texture with sand, glitter, and even small toys, each element a testament to your slime's unique personality.
Combine these disparate ingredients in ways that defy logic and reason, creating slime that transcends the boundaries of what was once thought possible. Let your creation be a mirror of your own inner world – a kaleidoscope of emotion and turmoil, forever captured in a semi-solid state.
But remember, dear slime-maker, that with boundless creativity comes the ever-present specter of failure. For every transcendent slime creation, there will be a dozen that fall short – misshapen, lifeless, and devoid of purpose. Do not let these setbacks discourage you, for they are the necessary sacrifices on the altar of innovation.
In the end, it is not the destination that matters, but the journey itself. Embrace the abyss, let it consume you, and emerge reborn as a true master of the slime arts. For it is only in the depths of our own darkness that we can find the light of true creation.
So go forth, intrepid slime-maker, and dance in the abyss of creativity. Let your imagination run wild, your inhibitions dissolve, and your slime be a testament to the power of the human spirit. For in the end, we are all but mere vessels for the primordial ooze that binds us all.

What started as a typical New Years Eve gig at a newly renovated hole-in-the-wall has become something far worse.
I’m the bass player (insert punch line here). I’m pretty good too, although I only play part-time. Back in the day, I played with Velvet on Fire. You won't remember us. We played one gig. For six people. Then our singer, Rod Brimstone, leapt onto someone's table, and urinated. Talk about Game Over. But I digress.
My latest group, a blues-rock cover band called Falling Forward, was hired to perform three sets of music. The trouble started when the redhead arrived. I was at the bar, minding my own business, when out of the blue, a radiant redhead, clad entirely in black leather, grabbed my ass.
“Whatcha drinking?” Her voice sounded like an ashtray. She was tall, with emerald eyes, and a sleeve of tattoos.
I did a double-take. “Um,” I gulped. “Whatever yer buying.”
She winked, twirled her lip ring, then slid her icy fingers between my legs. Subtlety was not her strength. The beer arrived and we cheersed. She said her name was Rosetta. I introduced myself as Derek the Bass Player, while forcing her hand further north. Then, after some throwaway small talk, I sauntered towards the stage, more-than-ready for the band’s third and final set.
Falling Forward played a raucous set. Mick, the lead singer and harmonica player, worked the audience into a frenzy. Leading the party was Rosetta, dancing sexily, swinging her hips too and fro, fist-pumping and cat-calling.
When the band finished its final set, I started loading the gear into Mick’s van. I was exhausted, with little patience for patronizing drunks, pestering me. Despite this, the redhead came strutting over. Next thing I know, I’m slow-dancing to Every Rose has its Thorn, via karaoke. Ugh. I didn’t know which was worse: the drunken, out-of-tune singing, or being forced to dance to it.
Her perfume smelled like sweet summer rain, but her exploring hands were icebergs. We wiggled and wormed along the crowded dance floor until finally (and thankfully), the song ended. Next came the tequila. Things get blurry by this point.
Somehow, despite the redhead’s relentless flirting, I finished loading the gear, and Mick drove me home. She must’ve gotten my phone number, because the following morning, I awoke to a flashing phone (and one helluva hangover).
HEY HANDSOME, the redhead texted, CUM OVER. Included was a video of her masturbating.
Not gonna lie, I was kinda turned on. Don’t judge. It had been a while since I’d had sex. My hormones got the best of me. Still, I had my reservations. Rosetta was a bit over-the-top for my tastes. And that’s putting it mildly. So, I reached out to Mick, asking for advice. His reply was instantaneous: “Strike while the kettle’s hot.”
And that’s exactly what I did.
Rosetta greeted me with opened arms and ruby lips. Her perfume was potent, her green eyes sparkling with bad intentions. She led me into her bedroom. To my dismay, Velvet on Fire's one-and-only event poster was pasted onto her her wall, below a giant Nine Inch Nails poster. I gulped. She was one of the six who saw my old band.
"I LOOOVE music," she said softly, in between kisses.
Then she got to work.
I left her apartment thinking I would never see her again. Unfortunately, this was not the case. The redhead was relentless, texting me day and night, sending naughty pics, insisting I ‘CUM OVER’. Finally, I caved. (Yes, I’m weak, spare me the lecture.)
This time was different. Rosetta was banged up, her face a barrage of bruises; her eyes were puffy and red, her bottom lip split open. “Bar fight,” she said, while sucking my earlobes. “Bitch got the worst of it.”
Bar fight??? Clearly, this redhead was bad news. I wanted to leave right then and there. Should have, too. Then none of this would’ve happened. But it was too late. I was trapped. She led me into her bedroom. We did The Dirty, then I left, having no intention of speaking to her again. This time I meant it.
The redhead kept sending naughty pics, but I ignored them. After a week or so, I thought she’d gotten the hint. Her messaging stopped. Then out of the blue….
DING.
My phone flew off the couch. Rosetta’s name splashed across the screen. I groaned. She sent me a song; a song which has haunted me ever since: I Put a Spell on You. Not the popular version, but a much darker and sinister-sounding one. I disliked it immediately.
I replied, saying I was super busy (which was true), and that we should ‘remain ‘friends’ (which was not true).
Her response gave me chills:
UR MINE ;)
Things escalated.
I work at a local music shop. The following day, my boss greeted me harshly. He seemed upset. “Look at this!” He handed me an old Velvet on Fire poster.
I gasped. Then I tripped and fell backwards, knocking over an entire row of guitars.
“YOU IDIOT!” my boss snapped. “That’s coming off your pay.”
Grudgingly, I gathered the guitars and checked for dings, but my mind remained on the poster; or more accurately, the note written on the back of it:
UR MINE!!!!
“The poster was nailed to the door,” my boss scoffed, shaking his head. “People these days….”
My mind went sideways. The note was written in Rosetta’s rosy lipstick. Was she stalking me? Who would do such a thing? Making matters worse, later that week, Mick messaged me with a song request: I Put a Spell on You. Coincidence, I told myself. But I didn’t believe it.
Sometime later, I met a lovely woman named Melanie, who was cute and timid and polite. She dressed modestly and wore little-to-no makeup. She was the antithesis of Rosetta. Since Falling Forward were due to perform that weekend, I invited her to the show. Melanie was delighted.
As the weekend grew nearer, so did my anxiety. This was a terrible idea. We were playing the same hole-in-the-wall as before. Rosetta would certainly be there. How would she react to seeing me with another woman? Maybe, I hoped, she would get the hint and leave me the hell alone.
Oh, how naïve I was.
Melanie sat up front. She seemed in good spirits. But I was nervous. I kept scanning the bar, looking for you-know-who. Then, as the band launched into I Put a Spell on You, a cold shiver slid down my spine. The barroom turned cold as ice.
The redhead.
She sat next to Melanie.
I nearly died.
During set break, I remained on stage, acting busy. Truth is, I was panicking. How could I be so stupid? The last thing I wanted was a confrontation. On cue, the redhead came rushing over. With beers. She offered me one. I said thank you, then awkwardly sat with Melanie, who kept asking if I was okay. I wasn’t. My pits were soaked with sweat. I was tripping over my words, barely able to speak. All I could do was sip my beer and pray something dreadful didn’t happen.
The redhead, meanwhile, was tapping the table with her razor-like nails, staring at me. Her cold and calculated glare gave me the creeps. Finally, under the weight of the world, I excused myself, and went to the bar. Before my drink arrived, a pair of icy fingers fondled my private parts.
“Hey handsome.”
Rosetta’s face was fiery-red. Her lips, like blackened cherries, pursed into a scowl. She cracked her knuckles, twice, then nodded towards Melanie.
“Who’s the bitch?” Her hand reached down, cupping my ever-shrinking testicles.
“Well, you see… I….”
She squeezed.
“Whoah!” I freed myself. Then I scooted off to the restroom, away from prying eyes.
‘This is nuts,’ I told myself, splashing cold water on my face. Obviously, the redhead wasn’t playing with a full deck. But what could I do about it? I certainly couldn’t ask her to leave. And I wasn’t about to ignore Melanie. I was exasperated. I took a deep breath, then returned to the table. Melanie was frantic, her eyes trembling with terror. Apparently, Rosetta paid her a visit. I could only assume it went poorly.
“How DARE you,” Melanie spat. She marched out of the bar, leaving me with the bill. And without a date.
“You don’t need that bitch,” Rosetta snickered. “You’re mine.” Her hands booped my buttocks.
Mick, sensing trouble, meandered over, “Time to play, bro,” he said.
The band opened with New Orleans is Sinking, a local bar-band favorite. Everyone was dancing and singing along, including Rosetta, who jumped on stage and started grinding against me, plunking the bass strings. Then she tried pouring a full beer down my throat. Instead, she soaked the stage (and my bass) with suds. Whooping and hollering, she slipped and stumbled off the stage, resulting in a fantastic face-plant, taking a few patrons with her. It was a total debacle. A fight broke out. Soon thereafter, she got ejected, and the band was barred from ever performing there again.
The following day, I received a long-winded text from Melanie. Apparently, Rosetta threatened to kill her if she ever spoke to me again. YIKES. Then the redhead went on to disparage my reputation. NOT GOOD. Melanie concluded by saying she was busy and that we should just be friends. Oh, bittersweet irony. I was heartbroken. And furious.
DING.
The redhead:
I PUT A SPELL ON YOU….
DING.
BCUZ UR MINE!!!
I responded hastily: WE ARE OVER. IN FACT, WE NEVER WERE!!!! To further drive home the point, I added: PLEASE STAY AWAY.
I blocked her.
Things settled for a while. Life went back to normal. Then my credit card bill arrived.
‘This must be a mistake!’ I cried.
Only, it wasn’t. After an arduous hour, chatting with the credit card company, their conclusion was concrete: someone was using my credit card to purchase pricey perfume, clothes, leather boots and accessories.
The Redhead.
I spent the day chatting with the cops, who offered little help. The damned redhead was ruining my life, and it was up to me to stop her.
But how?
She denied everything, of course, and scolded me for such ludicrous accusations. Then she invited me back to her place. The nerve of this woman….
The following week, the unthinkable happened:
I was heading to bed when Dexter, my adorable Dalmatian, started going berserk. He should’ve been sleeping, cuddled in his cozy kennel in the yard, not barking. Cursing the mangy mutt, I went out back to check on him.
The night was moonless and stark. A chill crept into my bones as I crunched along the yard. The gate was open, which was odd. It should’ve been locked. While locking the gate, I detected a smattering of sweet-smelling perfume.
The redhead.
Dexter calmed down after gobbling some tasty treats. Meanwhile, I scanned the yard, searching for intruders. Then I stormed inside, angry and confused. Sleep couldn’t come. How could it? My mind kept returning to the redhead, and what deplorable deeds she was doing.
The following morning, I went outside to feed the dog. My heart was pounding like a kick drum at a heavy metal concert. Quickly, I panicked. Something was wrong. First off, the gate was open. Again. Plus, Dexter was being quiet. Too quiet. Which is unlike him. As I inched cautiously towards the kennel, the sweet smell of perfume grew stronger.
When I reached the kennel, I gasped. My heart sank into my shoes. Before me was Dexter, stewing in a pool of blood and gore. His eyeballs were gouged and bloodied, his tongue lying limply next to his mutilated body. Stapled to his mangy, blood soaked fur, was a Velvet on Fire poster. Stunned and horrified, I seized the poster. On the back, scribbled in crimson-colored blood, was a note:
UR MINE!!! I vomited. Connor, my roommate, was glaring at me from the kitchen, his eyes searing with suspicion. When I told him what happened, he turned ghost-white. Then he called the cops, who again were of little help. I was unhinged. Terrible thoughts tore through my troubled mind. Why Dexter? What did he do to deserve such a fate? And why me, for that matter? I’m not a bad guy. Then, with a heavy heart, I buried my dead dog Dexter. The feeling of being watched was impossible to ignore. Somewhere close, was the redhead, taunting me. Proving this, a song wafted through the crisp, early morning air: I Put a Spell on You. DING. UNKNOWN SENDER. With shaky movements, I found my phone, and shrieked. On my phone was a picture of me burying Dexter. DING. UR NEXT!!! I raced into the house and locked all the doors. Grief held me in its terrible grip while I wept. This was all too much, too fast. DING. Sighing, I looked down and nearly died. I PUT A SPELL ON YOU, my phone read. BCUZ UR MINE.

The Chelsea FC Women April round-up - (double) semi-final heartbreak, but the Blues battle on

Welcome to the seventh Chelsea FC Women monthly round-up of the 2023/24 season.
These reviews are posted on a monthly basis throughout the season, and feature a summary of the exploits of Emma Hayes' Chelsea side, as well as a brief preview of the month ahead.
(This post is a long read, so feel free to skip to the end for the summary!)

Introduction

March had ended for Chelsea with a gutting loss in extra time of the Conti Cup final - meaning our quadruple hopes were at an end, but we still had three trophies left to fight for.
"Fight" being the operative word - it has been a grind of a season for Chelsea, between fixture congestion and significant injuries to key players. April had fewer games than the eight that we packed into March - but all of huge significance.
First, we would return from the final international break of the season to an FA Cup semi-final, away to Manchester United. It would then be back to WSL action, at home against Aston Villa, before ending the month with the toughest test of all - the two legs of our Champions League semi-final vs Barcelona.
The Catalan side have been the dominant force in Europe over the past several years - and were the team we fell to at the same stage of this competition last year. In Emma HAyes’ final season at the club, it would be her final shot at Champions League glory for Chelsea - but the Blues would be big underdogs.

Key headlines

Legendary goalkeeper Ann-Katrin Berger leaves Chelsea
Chelsea started this season with three goalkeepers good enough to start as the number 1 - and it was one of the early storylines as to who would win that battle.
After having been the first choice since her arrival to the club in January 2019, Ann-Katrin Berger was to be displaced by Hannah Hampton - and since autumn has barely featured, through a combination of injury and appearing to fall out of favour.
It was no surprise to see the German leave the club, as such - and this month it was announced the 33-year-old had signed for NWSL side Gotham FC.
She leaves as one of the greatest to ever play between the sticks for the club, having been a key part of 10 trophies - and most memorably, the hero in the penalty shootout win in last season’s Champions League quarter-final vs Lyon, in what was one of the best nights in our history.
Her departure does raise questions about the future of Jess Carter, who Berger has been in a relationship with for many years - the centre half's contract expires next summer.

Now - to the action!

Man United 2-1 Chelsea (FA Cup)
FA Cup semi-final weekend meant a fixture for Chelsea, whilst title rivals Man City benefitted from an extended rest after the international break.
Chelsea had never previously lost to Man United since they reformed their women’s team in 2018. Although Marc Skinner’s side pushed the Blues to the final day in the WSL last year, we had the beating of them on three occasions in 2022/23 - and managed to hold off their title push.
It has been a more challenging year for them this year - falling off quite considerably in the league, and being well short of the top three in the battle for Champions League qualification.
Fears were that that could potentially only serve to motivate them further in the FA Cup - a competition where Chelsea dashed their hopes last year, by beating them in the final. This was the only trophy left for Man United to contest
There was only one change to the line up who had lost to Arsenal in the Conti Cup final at the end of March, with Guro Reiten coming in to start.
Disaster immediately struck for Chelsea, when Eve Perisset - who has been so good in recent weeks - sold Hannah Hampton short with a back pass. The lurking Leah Galton pounced, and crossed to Lucia Garcia. The Spaniard headed Man United into a shock early lead, with less than a minute played.
Chelsea were slightly stunned - and struggled to respond in the face of a highly-motivated home side, who were roared on by a jubilant crowd.
It was to get even worse, with Man United doubling their lead inside 25 minutes - and putting themselves into a commanding position in the tie.
It was another headed goal - this time Rachel Williams finishing off an Ella Toone cross, and meaning Chelsea were left facing a mountain to climb.
The Blues did gradually grow into the game, and began dominating possession and territory, but without creating many real chances.
A lifelime emerged in the form of a first half stoppage time goal from our top scorer this year, Lauren James - a thumping finish from a Niamh Charles cutback. It was LJ’s fourth goal this season against her former club, and the timing of it meant a platform to mount a comeback in the second half.
There had been some concern over Mayra Ramirez late in the first half - who was challenged off the ball by Maya Le Tissier, and required lengthy treatment. Thankfully the Colombian was okay to continue - but the lack of action against the Man United defender set a tone for the second half to come.
Chelsea came out like a team who knew what was on the line - and the second half was one-way traffic, as Man United defended mostly with 11 players behind the ball.
Mary Earps was called upon on several occasions - tipping substitute Cat Macario’s corner onto the bar, and producing an outstanding save from a James’ header.
The Blues were also unfortunate on several occasions with officiating decisions, in addition to the Ramirez incident in the first half. There were two separate good shouts for penalties - and it was a justified sense of aggrievement, given that the coin consistently seemed to flip in the home side’s favour throughout the game.
Chelsea kept pushing - and Man United kept defending for their lives. None of Chelsea’s eight corners (compared to Man United’s none…) could force the issue - and Aggie Beever-Jones came agonisingly close in injury time, hitting the side netting.
We could not find the equaliser that our play in the second half had merited- and so it was Man United who progressed to the Wembley final, where they will face Spurs with both sides looking to win their first major trophy. The damage had been done with the poor start in the first half, which meant that a comeback was always going to be difficult.
It means that Emma Hayes will not end her Chelsea career with victory at Wembley, and add to the five FA Cups she has already won in her tenure - and that Chelsea’s hopes of silverware this season have been slashed in half from four down to two, in the space of our last two games.
There was not much time to commiserate, however - with another key match to come just three days later, away to Aston Villa in the WSL.
Chelsea 3-0 Aston Villa (WSL)
Just three days after the gutting FA Cup semi-final defeat to Man United, we had to get straight back on the horse, and return to the pressure cooker of the WSL title race - hosting Aston Villa at home.
Having now played a game more, Man City led the way - with a three point advantage, and being one ahead at goal difference. That meant Chelsea had to win to keep pace - and with just four games left of the league season, and City having the kinder run-in both in terms of opponents and rest days, any dropped points could prove fatal.
Like every match between now and the end of the season, it could be season-defining - and given the back-to-back defeats that preceded it, a win was an absolute imperative.
The opponents were not as tough a prospect as they once seemed - Aston Villa have struggled this year, after their breakout season in 2022/23… but are still a good team, with some dangerous players.
Emma Hayes rotated heavily, with no doubt one eye on the Champions League semi-final first leg to come at the weekend. There were seven changes in total, including Cat Macario making her first start - and Maika Hamano only making her second start in Blue. Lauren James missed out entirely, with a foot injury.
Such heavy rotation could have been a risk - but the task was made a lot easier inside five minutes, when Villa were reduced to ten players.
Captain Rachel Corsie’s loose pass was pounced on by Sjoeke Nüsken, and with keeper Anna Leat stranded, the German attempted a long range shot. Leat diverted it away from goal - but in doing so handled it outside of the box, and was given her marching orders. Villa manager Carla Ward had to turn to 17-year-old Sophia Poor as her reserve, who was making her senior debut.
This was therefore a golden opportunity for Chelsea… not just to take three points, but to add to our goal difference, which could prove crucial in such a close fight with City.
The Blues set about amping up the pressure, and it felt a matter of time before the breakthrough. It took a moment of what is quickly becoming characteristic quality, from Aggie Beever-Jones - a swinging volleyed finish from a Niamh Charles cross.
It was the 20-year-old’s seventh WSL goal this season, and she was to be joined on the scoresheet by the only other Chelsea player younger than her - Maika Hamano.
The Japanese teenager started the season injured, and had waited a long time for her debut - so her first Chelsea goal was especially sweet for her, and everyone watching on.
Ashley Lawrence’s cross was flicked on by Macario - who was probably trying to score - and Hamano was on hand to finish from close range. After a challenging few weeks at Chelsea, this was restorative of many smiles - and the 2-0 lead also meant we went top on goal difference.
The only disappointment of the first half was that we could not press home our advantage more - but there were still 45 minutes to come.
Beever-Jones led the charge in the second half, and a brilliant mazy run from her inside the first few minutes deserved a goal - but our young dynamo could not quite find a finish.
There was then more worry for Villa, when Poor went down injured - but the teenager was fine to continue, although she did appear in discomfort for the rest of the game.
Hamano nearly exploited this almost immediately after Poor restarted play - closing down the young keeper, but not quite being able to squeeze in a third goal.
Hayes started to ring the changes, with Reiten coming on for Charles. Soon after this, the Blues did finally have a third goal - and it was another milestone moment.
In her second season at Chelsea, Kadeisha Buchanan registered her first goal - heading home a Macario corner. It was a deserved assist too for the American, whose delivery had been on the money all night.
Rytting Kaneryd, Ramirez and Cuthbert all joined the fray, but could not quite bring more goals to the party - Reiten in particular smashing a shot straight down Poor’s throat, when she really should have made it 4-0.
It took until the 90th minute for Hannah Hampton to make her first save of the game, against her former club, as the ten women managed a shot on target at the death. It was an important save - as it would have been immensely frustrating to lose our clean sheet in a game like this.
Despite nine minutes of injury time - and not for lack of trying - Chelsea were not able to force any more goals, so had to be content with a 3-0 victory.
It was a win which put us back on top of the WSL - level on points with Man City, but now with a two superior goal difference.
We might rue not scoring more against a vulnerable Villa side - but given the previous two results, the win was the most important outcome, and it felt a relief to be one that was so straightforward.
Barcelona 0-1 Chelsea (WCL)
The next game was not likely to be so straightforward.
For the first leg of our Champions League semi-final, we were to face arguably the toughest test in women’s football - Barcelona away.
The all-conquering Barcelona Femení are not only the reigning European champions, but boasted a frankly incredible record of having gone over five years undefeated on their own ground.
It was the third time in four seasons the Blues had faced the Catalans in this competition. In 2021, our first (and only) Champions League final had ended in tatters - a 4-0 hammering, in which Barca scored all four goals inside a hurricane of an opening 30 minutes.
The scoreline in last year’s semi-final had been closer - a 2-1 aggregate loss - but truthfully the gap in quality was just as vast, with Chelsea giving everything they had and still coming up way short.
With the travails of this season, a positive result at the Estadi Olímpic felt unlikely.
There was a boost ahead of kick off, with club captain Millie Bright being named in a match day squad for the first time since her knee injury in November. It was unlikely Bright would feature after such an extended spell on the sidelines, but it was a heartening sight nonetheless.
After having missed the midweek win vs Villa, Lauren James was fit to start, taking her place alongside Mayra Ramirez. Erin Cuthbert lined up in midfield with Sjoeke Nüsken and Melanie Leupolz, whilst Emma Hayes chose to pack the defensive third with a back five - Johanna Rytting Kaneryd and Ashley Lawrence flanking Niamh Charles, Jess Carter and Kadeisha Buchanan.
The back five was a signal of Hayes’ intent, and the only way Chelsea were realistically going to get a result against such a dangerous side. Barcelona set about their business as they tend to - dominating possession and pinning the Blues (in our mint green kit) back. Within the opening minute they had already put a dangerous cross in, and the signs felt ominous.
Unlike in our previous encounters against the Blaugrana, however, once we had ridden the early storm there was more attacking intent - showing an ambition befitting of our status.
Lawrence and Rytting Kaneryd, as wing backs, showed they had more to bring to the party than just defensive reinforcement. Their threat out wide was causing problems for Barca’s defence, especially with the lurking Ramirez, who would be well known to Barcelona from her time in La Liga with Levante.
Despite their dominance in possession, Barcelona struggled to create many clear chances in the first half - and to the surprise of the near 40,000 in the stadium, and all of those watching elsewhere, it was instead Chelsea who got the opening goal.
It was a goal befitting of the occasion - and the significance.
There were two key moments of quality. First Nüsken showed excellent skill and composure to retain possession inside the opposition box - something that often most characterises the home side - and then turning brilliantly to play in Cuthbert.
The captain for the day often stands up tall in the biggest games - and this was another for her collection. The Scot took a touch to make her own space, and then rifled the ball into the top corner, making it 1-0 to Chelsea.
The next objective was to get through to half time - and Chelsea managed the next five minutes well, meaning we had a lead to defend for the second half.
Of note, Barcelona were yet to register a shot on target - and that it took until injury time of the second half to do so is testament to just how well Chelsea did curtail the European champions.
The story could have been very different, if not for the intervention of VAR, shortly after the resumption of play.
The on-field referee had initially awarded a penalty for handball against Buchanan. On VAR review, it was deemed that Salma Paralluelo, who was offside, was interfering with play in the build-up, and so the decision was overturned.
That reprieve strengthened Chelsea’s resolve, with Jess Carter in particular immense in the centre of defence - producing one of her best-ever displays for the club, against the team who had given her such a torrid time in the 2021 final. She was deservedly named Player of the Match, at full time.
Chelsea were unlucky with the officiating ourselves - with what looked like a clear penalty on Ramirez being waved away just after the hour mark.
There was arguably some good fortune for the Blues, too with Barcelona’s normally lethal attacking players spurning some good chances - this included Paralluelo, and two-time Ballon d’Or winner Alexia Putellas, who had come on as a second half substitute.
On balance, Ramirez too, could have added to Chelsea’s lead - and 2-0 would have been genuine dreamland territory.
With every last player on the pitch given everything they had, Chelsea were able to see out a historic win - one of the greatest in our club's history, and after the tough times of recent weeks, a delightful one. There was certainly some experience on display too - with the Blues making the most of any opportunity to run down the clock, to the increasing frustration of the Barcelona players and their fans, who created a hostile atmosphere to make Chelsea’s achievement all the greater.
Hayes was cautious post-match - warning that there was a lot of work to be done, with it still only being the cliched ‘half time in the tie’.
Nonetheless, to become the first team to beat Barcelona in five years at home - and to register our first-ever win against them - this was huge, this was history, and a true highlight of Emma Hayes’ final season… whatever happens next.
Chelsea would have a week to recover - and prepare for the second leg at Stamford Bridge.
Chelsea 0-2 Barcelona (WCL) - Barcelona win 2-1 on aggregate
A full week of preparation was a rarity for Chelsea this season - in fact, a full six days of rest between the first and second legs of this tie was the longest we had had this calendar year to prepare for a game.
It was going to be needed.
Following the historic 1-0 win against Barcelona in Spain, the Blues came into the second leg of our semi-final tie with a slender advantage - but also with the knowledge that the European champions can blow away any team.
There had been much chat in the media from the Catalans, with the reigning Ballon d’Or holder Aitana Bonmati leading the complaints against Chelsea’s so-called “dirty” tactics in the first leg - although how she judged a fairly routine bit of time wasting as more against the spirit of the game than the rough treatment of Mayra Ramirez had raised a few eyebrows.
Games do not come much bigger than this, and the Saturday evening showdown at Stamford Bridge was the talk of women’s football.
There had been a huge push to get the crowd at the Bridge to mark the occasion - which would also be the final time Emma Hayes led her team out at the ground. Fittingly, the 39,000 made it a record crowd for Chelsea FC Women.
Hayes persisted with the back three that had been deployed to so much success in the first leg. The only change to the starting XI was Mayra Ramirez - who was ruled out with injury. This was a big blow for Chelsea - the Barcelona defence had struggled to handle the Colombian the week previously. It did mean an opportunity for Cat Macario to start - and the American has experience in this competition with Lyon, scoring in their 2022 final win… vs Barcelona.
The sellout crowd contributed a loud soundtrack to the evening kick off, with Barcelona also trying to bring their famous intensity from the start, in a step up from their performance last week.
Chelsea showed early signs that they were not content to just sit back - attempting to release Lauren James and Macario whenever given the chance. The wide threat from Ashley Lawrence and Johanna Rytting Kaneryd was carried over from the week previously, too - and from Lawrence’s good wing play Erin Curhtber had a chance to replicate her goal from the first leg, but instead blazed over.
Hannah Hampton’s first real save came after around 20 minutes - a straightforward one from the dangerous Caroline Graham Hansen.
Unfortunately, it was less than five minutes later that Barcelona finally got on the scoresheet in the tie - and it was through the reigning Ballon d’Or holder, Bonmati. The midfielder’s striker took a cruel deflection off of Kadeisha Buchanan to wrongfoot Hampton, but they all count… and that crucially made it 1-1 on aggregate.
Cuthbert took her frustration out by booting a clearance straight into Bonmati’s face, leading to a break in play shortly after the goal - and a chance to regroup.
There was soon after a heartstopping moment, when Melanie Leupolz struck the crossbar with what looked like a golden chance to restore Chelsea’s overall lead - after our best attacking move of the match. However, the flag was raised for offside in the build up, to spare some of the agony - and it did show the Blues were still in the tie.
That moment did spark off what was Chelsea’s best 10 minute period of the match - and the Blues should have scored when Barcelona made an uncharacteristic error in defence. Nusken won the ball in the opposition box, but her cutback could not quite find James. There was a worry we would not get many better chances than that…
It was crucial to get to half time with the game still in the balance - and we did, meaning it was all still to fight for in the second half.
The pressure was to keep building, however, in the second half - and Chelsea were turning to increasingly desperate defending to hold back the Barcelona surge. The raucous home support tried their best - but were silenced by the few minutes around the hour mark.
First, Chelsea came the closest we would get to a goal in the game. A brilliant long pass from James found Lawrence, whose cross was met first time by the onrushing Nusken. Her stretched effort bounced off the outside of the post - leaving the German, and everyone in Blue, with head in hands.
Then, just minutes later, the game changed entirely. Chelsea are no stranger to dodgy referee decisions in the Champions League versus Barcelona - and this one would have had Didier Drogba out of his seat. Buchanan was shown a very harsh second yellow card, reducing Chelsea to ten players - and making the task mountainous.
Hayes made her first change, with Guro Reiten coming on for Macario. And Chelsea kept on fighting, pushing into the final 20 minutes with it still locked at 1-1 on aggregate.
Then, typically, another favourable refereeing decision for the opposition changed the game again. The lightest of pushes on Bonmati from Lawrence - after the Spaniard had appeared to first push the defender herself - resulted in a penalty, which unlike last week, VAR allowed to stand.
Fridolina Rolfo showed the coolest of heads from 12 yards to convert the spot kick, and for the first time in over 160 minutes of this tie, Barcelona were in front.
With 15 minutes left to play, a player and a goal down - it did feel like the end. Hayes threw the kitchen sink at it - bringing on each of Aggie Beever-Jones, Fran Kirby and Eve Perisset… and her wildcard, Millie Bright.
The centre half was making her first appearance in six months, after a long and difficult rehab from a knee injury - and the reception from the near 40,000 at the Bridge for our returning captain was a truly special moment.
Bright has before in crunch games for both England and Chelsea been used as an emergency centre forward - and this was her role for this cameo, as the Blues gave everything they had in the final throes, whilst the rain fell heavier and heavier.
There was to be six minutes of injury time for Chelsea to get an implausible goal to level up the tie - and after their complaints, it was Barcelona’s turn to waste time.
In the end, everything we had was not enough. The dream was over - but it was not without a fight, and any Chelsea fan could at least be happy that with odds increasingly stacked against us, through both injury and officiating, we acquitted ourselves well… and that gap really does appear to be closing.
It was next going to be a big task to pick ourselves up for the one trophy left to win, in this long season.

April results in brief

Fixture	Result	Competition	Goal scorers
Man United (A)	2-1 L	FA Cup	James (Charles assist)
Aston Villa (H)	3-0 W		WSL
Barcelona (A)	1-0 W	WCL	Cuthbert (Nüsken assist)
Barcelona (H)	2-0 L	WCL	n/a

Summary

April saw two gutting semi-final defeats for Chelsea FC Women, meaning our chances of silverware are now cut down to just one competition - the WSL.
Our loss to Man United in the FA Cup was frustrating, both due to our poor first half performance - and then due to refereeing decisions which could have made for a different result.
The second semi-final gave us both all of the highs and the lows of Champions League knockout ties. The win in Barcelona against the Catalan giants was their first on home territory in five years, our first-ever against them, and gave genuine hope of progressing through to the Champions League final - and keep alive the dream of winning the one trophy which has eluded Chelsea and Emma Hayes.
It was not to be. More harsh officiating made it a very difficult loss to take - Chelsea had performed brilliantly across the two legs, despite further injuries, and showed we can compete with the very best.
In the interim, we had won vs Aston Villa in the WSL, to ensure we stayed in the title race. Man City have now played two games more than the Blues, and comprehensive wins mean they now have a 7 goal advantage in goal difference, as well as a six point lead.
It is the only trophy we now have left to win - and given the form of Man City, who have it in their hands, it looks an increasingly tall order. a
Preview - Man City look favourites, tall order, may be tme to accept we will end trophyless
Lauren James, Mayra Ramirez and Aggie Beever-Jones also continue to shine - creating much cause for cheer and optimism for not just the weeks to come, but also the years after.

May preview

It is now all about the league.
Chelsea have four WSL games left to play - and it is a challenging fixture list.
First up in May we travel to Liverpool, who sit fifth in the league and are hunting down rivals Man United for fourth spot. Then, we will host already-relegated Bristol City at Kingsmeadow - in what will be Emma Hayes’ final home game as Blues manager.
In the last week of the season, we travel first to Tottenham Hotspur - who this month reached their first-ever FA Cup final - and then away to Man United, on the final day of the season.
Neither of those away fixtures are easy - and especially so given there is an acceptance that every team in the WSL would quite enjoy Chelsea being knocked off the perch that we have sat on for the past four years, with our four consecutive league title wins.
Man City, have just two to play - they will end the season away to Aston Villa, but first host Arsenal at home. It is that Arsenal game which gives the faintest glimmer of hope - but given Arsenal have secured third spot and hence European football, and have no prospect of challenging for the title, it is a slim hope. Add to that the bitter rivalry between Chelsea and our North London rivals, and it does not seem likely they will be doing us a favour.
Given that - Man City are favourites. They have the form, the fixtures, and the better goal difference. If they win their two games, they will likely win the league. It seems more likely Chelsea will drop points - and even if we do not, we have a big goal differential to make up.
It is not done yet, however - and one thing is certain is that Chelsea will fight to the end, as shown in the second leg vs Barcelona. The long-awaited return of Millie Bright to the pitch, after a knee injury which has kept her out for six months, is a boost too - and may help to see us through.
Four games left to win a title - and four games left for Emma Hayes.

UTC!

The Chelsea FC Women April round-up - (double) semi-final heartbreak, but the Blues battle on

Welcome to the seventh Chelsea FC Women monthly round-up of the 2023/24 season.
These reviews are posted on a monthly basis throughout the season, and feature a summary of the exploits of Emma Hayes' Chelsea side, as well as a brief preview of the month ahead.
(This post is a long read, so feel free to skip to the end for the summary!)

Introduction

March had ended for Chelsea with a gutting loss in extra time of the Conti Cup final - meaning our quadruple hopes were at an end, but we still had three trophies left to fight for.
"Fight" being the operative word - it has been a grind of a season for Chelsea, between fixture congestion and significant injuries to key players. April had fewer games than the eight that we packed into March - but all of huge significance.
First, we would return from the final international break of the season to an FA Cup semi-final, away to Manchester United. It would then be back to WSL action, at home against Aston Villa, before ending the month with the toughest test of all - the two legs of our Champions League semi-final vs Barcelona.
The Catalan side have been the dominant force in Europe over the past several years - and were the team we fell to at the same stage of this competition last year. In Emma HAyes’ final season at the club, it would be her final shot at Champions League glory for Chelsea - but the Blues would be big underdogs.

Key headlines

Legendary goalkeeper Ann-Katrin Berger leaves Chelsea
Chelsea started this season with three goalkeepers good enough to start as the number 1 - and it was one of the early storylines as to who would win that battle.
After having been the first choice since her arrival to the club in January 2019, Ann-Katrin Berger was to be displaced by Hannah Hampton - and since autumn has barely featured, through a combination of injury and appearing to fall out of favour.
It was no surprise to see the German leave the club, as such - and this month it was announced the 33-year-old had signed for NWSL side Gotham FC.
She leaves as one of the greatest to ever play between the sticks for the club, having been a key part of 10 trophies - and most memorably, the hero in the penalty shootout win in last season’s Champions League quarter-final vs Lyon, in what was one of the best nights in our history.
Her departure does raise questions about the future of Jess Carter, who Berger has been in a relationship with for many years - the centre half's contract expires next summer.

Now - to the action!

Man United 2-1 Chelsea (FA Cup)
FA Cup semi-final weekend meant a fixture for Chelsea, whilst title rivals Man City benefitted from an extended rest after the international break.
Chelsea had never previously lost to Man United since they reformed their women’s team in 2018. Although Marc Skinner’s side pushed the Blues to the final day in the WSL last year, we had the beating of them on three occasions in 2022/23 - and managed to hold off their title push.
It has been a more challenging year for them this year - falling off quite considerably in the league, and being well short of the top three in the battle for Champions League qualification.
Fears were that that could potentially only serve to motivate them further in the FA Cup - a competition where Chelsea dashed their hopes last year, by beating them in the final. This was the only trophy left for Man United to contest
There was only one change to the line up who had lost to Arsenal in the Conti Cup final at the end of March, with Guro Reiten coming in to start.
Disaster immediately struck for Chelsea, when Eve Perisset - who has been so good in recent weeks - sold Hannah Hampton short with a back pass. The lurking Leah Galton pounced, and crossed to Lucia Garcia. The Spaniard headed Man United into a shock early lead, with less than a minute played.
Chelsea were slightly stunned - and struggled to respond in the face of a highly-motivated home side, who were roared on by a jubilant crowd.
It was to get even worse, with Man United doubling their lead inside 25 minutes - and putting themselves into a commanding position in the tie.
It was another headed goal - this time Rachel Williams finishing off an Ella Toone cross, and meaning Chelsea were left facing a mountain to climb.
The Blues did gradually grow into the game, and began dominating possession and territory, but without creating many real chances.
A lifelime emerged in the form of a first half stoppage time goal from our top scorer this year, Lauren James - a thumping finish from a Niamh Charles cutback. It was LJ’s fourth goal this season against her former club, and the timing of it meant a platform to mount a comeback in the second half.
There had been some concern over Mayra Ramirez late in the first half - who was challenged off the ball by Maya Le Tissier, and required lengthy treatment. Thankfully the Colombian was okay to continue - but the lack of action against the Man United defender set a tone for the second half to come.
Chelsea came out like a team who knew what was on the line - and the second half was one-way traffic, as Man United defended mostly with 11 players behind the ball.
Mary Earps was called upon on several occasions - tipping substitute Cat Macario’s corner onto the bar, and producing an outstanding save from a James’ header.
The Blues were also unfortunate on several occasions with officiating decisions, in addition to the Ramirez incident in the first half. There were two separate good shouts for penalties - and it was a justified sense of aggrievement, given that the coin consistently seemed to flip in the home side’s favour throughout the game.
Chelsea kept pushing - and Man United kept defending for their lives. None of Chelsea’s eight corners (compared to Man United’s none…) could force the issue - and Aggie Beever-Jones came agonisingly close in injury time, hitting the side netting.
We could not find the equaliser that our play in the second half had merited- and so it was Man United who progressed to the Wembley final, where they will face Spurs with both sides looking to win their first major trophy. The damage had been done with the poor start in the first half, which meant that a comeback was always going to be difficult.
It means that Emma Hayes will not end her Chelsea career with victory at Wembley, and add to the five FA Cups she has already won in her tenure - and that Chelsea’s hopes of silverware this season have been slashed in half from four down to two, in the space of our last two games.
There was not much time to commiserate, however - with another key match to come just three days later, away to Aston Villa in the WSL.
Chelsea 3-0 Aston Villa (WSL)
Just three days after the gutting FA Cup semi-final defeat to Man United, we had to get straight back on the horse, and return to the pressure cooker of the WSL title race - hosting Aston Villa at home.
Having now played a game more, Man City led the way - with a three point advantage, and being one ahead at goal difference. That meant Chelsea had to win to keep pace - and with just four games left of the league season, and City having the kinder run-in both in terms of opponents and rest days, any dropped points could prove fatal.
Like every match between now and the end of the season, it could be season-defining - and given the back-to-back defeats that preceded it, a win was an absolute imperative.
The opponents were not as tough a prospect as they once seemed - Aston Villa have struggled this year, after their breakout season in 2022/23… but are still a good team, with some dangerous players.
Emma Hayes rotated heavily, with no doubt one eye on the Champions League semi-final first leg to come at the weekend. There were seven changes in total, including Cat Macario making her first start - and Maika Hamano only making her second start in Blue. Lauren James missed out entirely, with a foot injury.
Such heavy rotation could have been a risk - but the task was made a lot easier inside five minutes, when Villa were reduced to ten players.
Captain Rachel Corsie’s loose pass was pounced on by Sjoeke Nüsken, and with keeper Anna Leat stranded, the German attempted a long range shot. Leat diverted it away from goal - but in doing so handled it outside of the box, and was given her marching orders. Villa manager Carla Ward had to turn to 17-year-old Sophia Poor as her reserve, who was making her senior debut.
This was therefore a golden opportunity for Chelsea… not just to take three points, but to add to our goal difference, which could prove crucial in such a close fight with City.
The Blues set about amping up the pressure, and it felt a matter of time before the breakthrough. It took a moment of what is quickly becoming characteristic quality, from Aggie Beever-Jones - a swinging volleyed finish from a Niamh Charles cross.
It was the 20-year-old’s seventh WSL goal this season, and she was to be joined on the scoresheet by the only other Chelsea player younger than her - Maika Hamano.
The Japanese teenager started the season injured, and had waited a long time for her debut - so her first Chelsea goal was especially sweet for her, and everyone watching on.
Ashley Lawrence’s cross was flicked on by Macario - who was probably trying to score - and Hamano was on hand to finish from close range. After a challenging few weeks at Chelsea, this was restorative of many smiles - and the 2-0 lead also meant we went top on goal difference.
The only disappointment of the first half was that we could not press home our advantage more - but there were still 45 minutes to come.
Beever-Jones led the charge in the second half, and a brilliant mazy run from her inside the first few minutes deserved a goal - but our young dynamo could not quite find a finish.
There was then more worry for Villa, when Poor went down injured - but the teenager was fine to continue, although she did appear in discomfort for the rest of the game.
Hamano nearly exploited this almost immediately after Poor restarted play - closing down the young keeper, but not quite being able to squeeze in a third goal.
Hayes started to ring the changes, with Reiten coming on for Charles. Soon after this, the Blues did finally have a third goal - and it was another milestone moment.
In her second season at Chelsea, Kadeisha Buchanan registered her first goal - heading home a Macario corner. It was a deserved assist too for the American, whose delivery had been on the money all night.
Rytting Kaneryd, Ramirez and Cuthbert all joined the fray, but could not quite bring more goals to the party - Reiten in particular smashing a shot straight down Poor’s throat, when she really should have made it 4-0.
It took until the 90th minute for Hannah Hampton to make her first save of the game, against her former club, as the ten women managed a shot on target at the death. It was an important save - as it would have been immensely frustrating to lose our clean sheet in a game like this.
Despite nine minutes of injury time - and not for lack of trying - Chelsea were not able to force any more goals, so had to be content with a 3-0 victory.
It was a win which put us back on top of the WSL - level on points with Man City, but now with a two superior goal difference.
We might rue not scoring more against a vulnerable Villa side - but given the previous two results, the win was the most important outcome, and it felt a relief to be one that was so straightforward.
Barcelona 0-1 Chelsea (WCL)
The next game was not likely to be so straightforward.
For the first leg of our Champions League semi-final, we were to face arguably the toughest test in women’s football - Barcelona away.
The all-conquering Barcelona Femení are not only the reigning European champions, but boasted a frankly incredible record of having gone over five years undefeated on their own ground.
It was the third time in four seasons the Blues had faced the Catalans in this competition. In 2021, our first (and only) Champions League final had ended in tatters - a 4-0 hammering, in which Barca scored all four goals inside a hurricane of an opening 30 minutes.
The scoreline in last year’s semi-final had been closer - a 2-1 aggregate loss - but truthfully the gap in quality was just as vast, with Chelsea giving everything they had and still coming up way short.
With the travails of this season, a positive result at the Estadi Olímpic felt unlikely.
There was a boost ahead of kick off, with club captain Millie Bright being named in a match day squad for the first time since her knee injury in November. It was unlikely Bright would feature after such an extended spell on the sidelines, but it was a heartening sight nonetheless.
After having missed the midweek win vs Villa, Lauren James was fit to start, taking her place alongside Mayra Ramirez. Erin Cuthbert lined up in midfield with Sjoeke Nüsken and Melanie Leupolz, whilst Emma Hayes chose to pack the defensive third with a back five - Johanna Rytting Kaneryd and Ashley Lawrence flanking Niamh Charles, Jess Carter and Kadeisha Buchanan.
The back five was a signal of Hayes’ intent, and the only way Chelsea were realistically going to get a result against such a dangerous side. Barcelona set about their business as they tend to - dominating possession and pinning the Blues (in our mint green kit) back. Within the opening minute they had already put a dangerous cross in, and the signs felt ominous.
Unlike in our previous encounters against the Blaugrana, however, once we had ridden the early storm there was more attacking intent - showing an ambition befitting of our status.
Lawrence and Rytting Kaneryd, as wing backs, showed they had more to bring to the party than just defensive reinforcement. Their threat out wide was causing problems for Barca’s defence, especially with the lurking Ramirez, who would be well known to Barcelona from her time in La Liga with Levante.
Despite their dominance in possession, Barcelona struggled to create many clear chances in the first half - and to the surprise of the near 40,000 in the stadium, and all of those watching elsewhere, it was instead Chelsea who got the opening goal.
It was a goal befitting of the occasion - and the significance.
There were two key moments of quality. First Nüsken showed excellent skill and composure to retain possession inside the opposition box - something that often most characterises the home side - and then turning brilliantly to play in Cuthbert.
The captain for the day often stands up tall in the biggest games - and this was another for her collection. The Scot took a touch to make her own space, and then rifled the ball into the top corner, making it 1-0 to Chelsea.
The next objective was to get through to half time - and Chelsea managed the next five minutes well, meaning we had a lead to defend for the second half.
Of note, Barcelona were yet to register a shot on target - and that it took until injury time of the second half to do so is testament to just how well Chelsea did curtail the European champions.
The story could have been very different, if not for the intervention of VAR, shortly after the resumption of play.
The on-field referee had initially awarded a penalty for handball against Buchanan. On VAR review, it was deemed that Salma Paralluelo, who was offside, was interfering with play in the build-up, and so the decision was overturned.
That reprieve strengthened Chelsea’s resolve, with Jess Carter in particular immense in the centre of defence - producing one of her best-ever displays for the club, against the team who had given her such a torrid time in the 2021 final. She was deservedly named Player of the Match, at full time.
Chelsea were unlucky with the officiating ourselves - with what looked like a clear penalty on Ramirez being waved away just after the hour mark.
There was arguably some good fortune for the Blues, too with Barcelona’s normally lethal attacking players spurning some good chances - this included Paralluelo, and two-time Ballon d’Or winner Alexia Putellas, who had come on as a second half substitute.
On balance, Ramirez too, could have added to Chelsea’s lead - and 2-0 would have been genuine dreamland territory.
With every last player on the pitch given everything they had, Chelsea were able to see out a historic win - one of the greatest in our club's history, and after the tough times of recent weeks, a delightful one. There was certainly some experience on display too - with the Blues making the most of any opportunity to run down the clock, to the increasing frustration of the Barcelona players and their fans, who created a hostile atmosphere to make Chelsea’s achievement all the greater.
Hayes was cautious post-match - warning that there was a lot of work to be done, with it still only being the cliched ‘half time in the tie’.
Nonetheless, to become the first team to beat Barcelona in five years at home - and to register our first-ever win against them - this was huge, this was history, and a true highlight of Emma Hayes’ final season… whatever happens next.
Chelsea would have a week to recover - and prepare for the second leg at Stamford Bridge.
Chelsea 0-2 Barcelona (WCL) - Barcelona win 2-1 on aggregate
A full week of preparation was a rarity for Chelsea this season - in fact, a full six days of rest between the first and second legs of this tie was the longest we had had this calendar year to prepare for a game.
It was going to be needed.
Following the historic 1-0 win against Barcelona in Spain, the Blues came into the second leg of our semi-final tie with a slender advantage - but also with the knowledge that the European champions can blow away any team.
There had been much chat in the media from the Catalans, with the reigning Ballon d’Or holder Aitana Bonmati leading the complaints against Chelsea’s so-called “dirty” tactics in the first leg - although how she judged a fairly routine bit of time wasting as more against the spirit of the game than the rough treatment of Mayra Ramirez had raised a few eyebrows.
Games do not come much bigger than this, and the Saturday evening showdown at Stamford Bridge was the talk of women’s football.
There had been a huge push to get the crowd at the Bridge to mark the occasion - which would also be the final time Emma Hayes led her team out at the ground. Fittingly, the 39,000 made it a record crowd for Chelsea FC Women.
Hayes persisted with the back three that had been deployed to so much success in the first leg. The only change to the starting XI was Mayra Ramirez - who was ruled out with injury. This was a big blow for Chelsea - the Barcelona defence had struggled to handle the Colombian the week previously. It did mean an opportunity for Cat Macario to start - and the American has experience in this competition with Lyon, scoring in their 2022 final win… vs Barcelona.
The sellout crowd contributed a loud soundtrack to the evening kick off, with Barcelona also trying to bring their famous intensity from the start, in a step up from their performance last week.
Chelsea showed early signs that they were not content to just sit back - attempting to release Lauren James and Macario whenever given the chance. The wide threat from Ashley Lawrence and Johanna Rytting Kaneryd was carried over from the week previously, too - and from Lawrence’s good wing play Erin Curhtber had a chance to replicate her goal from the first leg, but instead blazed over.
Hannah Hampton’s first real save came after around 20 minutes - a straightforward one from the dangerous Caroline Graham Hansen.
Unfortunately, it was less than five minutes later that Barcelona finally got on the scoresheet in the tie - and it was through the reigning Ballon d’Or holder, Bonmati. The midfielder’s striker took a cruel deflection off of Kadeisha Buchanan to wrongfoot Hampton, but they all count… and that crucially made it 1-1 on aggregate.
Cuthbert took her frustration out by booting a clearance straight into Bonmati’s face, leading to a break in play shortly after the goal - and a chance to regroup.
There was soon after a heartstopping moment, when Melanie Leupolz struck the crossbar with what looked like a golden chance to restore Chelsea’s overall lead - after our best attacking move of the match. However, the flag was raised for offside in the build up, to spare some of the agony - and it did show the Blues were still in the tie.
That moment did spark off what was Chelsea’s best 10 minute period of the match - and the Blues should have scored when Barcelona made an uncharacteristic error in defence. Nusken won the ball in the opposition box, but her cutback could not quite find James. There was a worry we would not get many better chances than that…
It was crucial to get to half time with the game still in the balance - and we did, meaning it was all still to fight for in the second half.
The pressure was to keep building, however, in the second half - and Chelsea were turning to increasingly desperate defending to hold back the Barcelona surge. The raucous home support tried their best - but were silenced by the few minutes around the hour mark.
First, Chelsea came the closest we would get to a goal in the game. A brilliant long pass from James found Lawrence, whose cross was met first time by the onrushing Nusken. Her stretched effort bounced off the outside of the post - leaving the German, and everyone in Blue, with head in hands.
Then, just minutes later, the game changed entirely. Chelsea are no stranger to dodgy referee decisions in the Champions League versus Barcelona - and this one would have had Didier Drogba out of his seat. Buchanan was shown a very harsh second yellow card, reducing Chelsea to ten players - and making the task mountainous.
Hayes made her first change, with Guro Reiten coming on for Macario. And Chelsea kept on fighting, pushing into the final 20 minutes with it still locked at 1-1 on aggregate.
Then, typically, another favourable refereeing decision for the opposition changed the game again. The lightest of pushes on Bonmati from Lawrence - after the Spaniard had appeared to first push the defender herself - resulted in a penalty, which unlike last week, VAR allowed to stand.
Fridolina Rolfo showed the coolest of heads from 12 yards to convert the spot kick, and for the first time in over 160 minutes of this tie, Barcelona were in front.
With 15 minutes left to play, a player and a goal down - it did feel like the end. Hayes threw the kitchen sink at it - bringing on each of Aggie Beever-Jones, Fran Kirby and Eve Perisset… and her wildcard, Millie Bright.
The centre half was making her first appearance in six months, after a long and difficult rehab from a knee injury - and the reception from the near 40,000 at the Bridge for our returning captain was a truly special moment.
Bright has before in crunch games for both England and Chelsea been used as an emergency centre forward - and this was her role for this cameo, as the Blues gave everything they had in the final throes, whilst the rain fell heavier and heavier.
There was to be six minutes of injury time for Chelsea to get an implausible goal to level up the tie - and after their complaints, it was Barcelona’s turn to waste time.
In the end, everything we had was not enough. The dream was over - but it was not without a fight, and any Chelsea fan could at least be happy that with odds increasingly stacked against us, through both injury and officiating, we acquitted ourselves well… and that gap really does appear to be closing.
It was next going to be a big task to pick ourselves up for the one trophy left to win, in this long season.

April results in brief

Fixture	Result	Competition	Goal scorers
Man United (A)	2-1 L	FA Cup	James (Charles assist)
Aston Villa (H)	3-0 W		WSL
Barcelona (A)	1-0 W	WCL	Cuthbert (Nüsken assist)
Barcelona (H)	2-0 L	WCL	n/a

Summary

April saw two gutting semi-final defeats for Chelsea FC Women, meaning our chances of silverware are now cut down to just one competition - the WSL.
Our loss to Man United in the FA Cup was frustrating, both due to our poor first half performance - and then due to refereeing decisions which could have made for a different result.
The second semi-final gave us both all of the highs and the lows of Champions League knockout ties. The win in Barcelona against the Catalan giants was their first on home territory in five years, our first-ever against them, and gave genuine hope of progressing through to the Champions League final - and keep alive the dream of winning the one trophy which has eluded Chelsea and Emma Hayes.
It was not to be. More harsh officiating made it a very difficult loss to take - Chelsea had performed brilliantly across the two legs, despite further injuries, and showed we can compete with the very best.
In the interim, we had won vs Aston Villa in the WSL, to ensure we stayed in the title race. Man City have now played two games more than the Blues, and comprehensive wins mean they now have a 7 goal advantage in goal difference, as well as a six point lead.
It is the only trophy we now have left to win - and given the form of Man City, who have it in their hands, it looks an increasingly tall order. a
Preview - Man City look favourites, tall order, may be tme to accept we will end trophyless
Lauren James, Mayra Ramirez and Aggie Beever-Jones also continue to shine - creating much cause for cheer and optimism for not just the weeks to come, but also the years after.

May preview

It is now all about the league.
Chelsea have four WSL games left to play - and it is a challenging fixture list.
First up in May we travel to Liverpool, who sit fifth in the league and are hunting down rivals Man United for fourth spot. Then, we will host already-relegated Bristol City at Kingsmeadow - in what will be Emma Hayes’ final home game as Blues manager.
In the last week of the season, we travel first to Tottenham Hotspur - who this month reached their first-ever FA Cup final - and then away to Man United, on the final day of the season.
Neither of those away fixtures are easy - and especially so given there is an acceptance that every team in the WSL would quite enjoy Chelsea being knocked off the perch that we have sat on for the past four years, with our four consecutive league title wins.
Man City, have just two to play - they will end the season away to Aston Villa, but first host Arsenal at home. It is that Arsenal game which gives the faintest glimmer of hope - but given Arsenal have secured third spot and hence European football, and have no prospect of challenging for the title, it is a slim hope. Add to that the bitter rivalry between Chelsea and our North London rivals, and it does not seem likely they will be doing us a favour.
Given that - Man City are favourites. They have the form, the fixtures, and the better goal difference. If they win their two games, they will likely win the league. It seems more likely Chelsea will drop points - and even if we do not, we have a big goal differential to make up.
It is not done yet, however - and one thing is certain is that Chelsea will fight to the end, as shown in the second leg vs Barcelona. The long-awaited return of Millie Bright to the pitch, after a knee injury which has kept her out for six months, is a boost too - and may help to see us through.
Four games left to win a title - and four games left for Emma Hayes.

If you are interested in learning more about Chelsea FC Women, and keeping a closer eye on the progress of our women's team, then check out our subreddit, /chelsealadiesfc!

UTC!

I'd love to hear your general opinion. Any specific pros/cons of the chapter would be great too. I really want a sense of how the story feels for you.
Note that there are minor non-descriptive mentions of sexual acts.
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Chapter 1: A somewhat unconventional childhood
Cecile’s letter said mom is gone. There was a shootout at the club, and they have taken her away. Before you ask, Mom is a vampire. She’d been through worse. I suppose that raises some immediate questions. Let me start over.
I never knew my real parents. I’m pretty sure mom killed them both, but I never asked. If you think it’s strange I never asked, that’s because you don’t know me very well. Mom decided to keep me. Maybe it was a trace of human emotion, or perhaps simple utility, but you know what I think? I think she was curious. She found a baby, and decided it would be interesting to raise it. Mom’s hobbies were always a bit peculiar.
Mom is minor nobility in her clan. Owns a night club, the kind that’s fancy in the front and dirty in the back. You know the deal. I grew up fast, as is usually the case when one spends their childhood among creatures of the night. Mom being nobility meant I met some fancy people, so there’s that. Mom being a vampire, I came face to face with death a few times before I even turned ten. I was always a smart kid, and being smart as a kid means mastering one’s home environment. I learned to talk to all kinds of people: politicians, business men, prostitutes, drug dealers, hit-men, you get the deal. Then there were the undersiders: warlocks, demons, anyone who might be friendly with a vampire.
Speaking of vampires. You’ve read the books, you’ve seen the movies, you probably already feel confused about what is true and what is not. Believe me, even I got some of it confused on occasion. When you have to remember details about multiple supernatural species, all while being bombarded by stories that each tell a different tale – in short, I get it. I’ll try not to make it too hard on you, tell you what you need to know and assume you already know the rest. I promise I won’t make it long; I just prefer not to pause later in the middle of the good stuff just to tell you something boring. I know it’s unconventional and therefore a bad choice, but that’s my way of telling you I don’t care all that much what you think of me.
So, vampires. Immortal, beautiful, drink human blood. You knew all that. What you might not have known: they don’t have a human psyche. So no “I’m a vampire but actually I’m a person just like you”, sorry. Vampires are considered psychopaths by many human warlocks, but that’s not entirely true. Vampires have their own psychology, which happens to be different from our human one. They are built to manipulate us into entering dark alleys and getting our blood sucked. They are intelligent, which made it possible for them to coexist with human magical authorities. They won’t kill their prey unless they have to; but that is only because it’s part of the agreement. Still, most of them aren’t interesting in killing – it’s all about the blood. Blood is feeding and fucking at the same time, though no human can imagine what it feels like for them. They can have regular sex, and some claim they do enjoy it, but vampires are a bunch of liars. Truth is, sex is only a tool for them. They get nothing out of it. The easiest way to tell that they’re lying is if they act human: they look sad? Lies. They look happy? Lies. They look alien and incomprehensible? Probably also lies, but there’s a small chance they are showing you their real self. Vampires aren’t as sociable as humans, but they do have their own societies. So naturally, they have conventions for behaving among themselves. Though they are lying to each other constantly, too. You know how when wolf cubs play-fight with each other it’s actually how they train to fight and hunt? Young vampires play-lie to each other as training for manipulating humans.
Mom could have manipulated me into anything she wanted, which is why it’s so strange to me that she chose to tell me the truth. How do I know it’s the truth, you might ask. Maybe I was manipulated after all. What can I tell you? If I am manipulated, obviously I’d be blind to it. That’s how it works. But manipulation tends to fail an intelligent investigation, because reality tends to not care what your parents chose to tell you. Most of what Mom told me about the underside I have verified for myself. Could she have hidden a huge lie among the truths? Definitely. But honestly, I don’t care. The most important thing you need to know about me and mom is this: She raised me with all the love a boy could ask for from his mother. If there’s a secret plan, I just don’t care. I owe her my life, and would gladly give it away for her sake. Human mothers – healthy ones – can’t help but love their children. My mother cannot feel love, and yet she acted like she did, because she knew that’s what a human child needs in order to grow strong and healthy. Do you get it now?
Back to vampire 101: silver can work, as it works on most undersiders, but unlikely to kill a vampire. A wooden stake through their heart will paralyze them, but only because it prevents their heart from healing. A plastic or metal stake would work just as well. Yes, they have a pulse. They aren’t dead and aren’t undead – they’re alive. That’s the part that pisses people off the most, but sorry, I’m not making the rules here. They are cold to the touch, but most can learn to control their temperature. Garlic kind of works against them; it doesn’t hurt them, but they really hate the stuff. Crosses will work if a warlock uses them to focus his magic, but so would any object with symbolic importance. Sunlight kills them rather quickly. It burns them – not in the burst-into-flames kind of way, more like in the pale-skinned-guy-was-left-in-the-desert-sun-for-too-long kind of way, only they die in a matter of minutes under direct exposure.
Me? I’m not important. I’m a twenty-eight year old guy raised by a vampire. I’m a regular human as far as I can tell, but you know what? Humans are the masters of adaptation, and I had to adapt to a very strange environment. I can feel anything a human can feel; but I was raised by a vampire incapable of human feelings; but she had mastered the play-act of human emotion, and raised me like a loving human mother. Are you confused yet? Imagine what I had to go through. That’s what was always missing for me in stories of the supernatural – otherworldly beings were always either human beings with superpowers or killers with the psychological complexity of an alligator. Real magical creatures – a stupid name by the way, which is why I prefer ‘undersiders’ – each have their own unique psychology. They are often intelligent, complex, and yet almost alien. I can’t promise I’ll be able to give you an accurate representation of that, as a human being cannot truly comprehend a consciousness other than his own – and I’m still human. But unlike all those stories you have read, I grew up with these creatures. So I have some advantage.
I left home when I was fifteen. Haven’t been back since. I traveled, I worked, I slept around, got into fights, became a warlock, you know the deal. I’m pretty good at talking people into doing what I want, but I’m nothing compared to mom. Besides, talking can only get you so far. If you lived the life you know: sometimes violence is all you have. I’m good at that too, if you don’t mind me saying. Seeing what I’ve seen, I knew early on I’d have to learn how to protect myself. I’m confident in a normal fight, and adding what I picked up in the darker arts, even a few human men are not much of a threat to me. Being human, I’m still near the bottom of the food chain when it comes to real strength, of course. As strong as I am, mom could kill me in a heartbeat. And mom was never all that strong.
So yea, we’re basically friends now, right?
Just kidding. I don’t know you.
I’ve been staying in this one place for about a month when Cecile’s letter came. I don’t know how she found me, but with magic it’s not that hard. Especially since I wasn’t hiding. The letter didn’t say much, but it didn’t need to. I know Cecile, and I could read between the lines: it’s bad. Not just mom-might-be-dead bad, but also everyone-you’ve-ever-loved-might-die-soon bad. Something big was going on back home. Oh, Cecile is mom’s partner, in a way. They’re kind of like an old lesbian couple: they live together and share everyday life with each other, but being vampires they don’t have sex at all. On second thought, they’re exactly like and old lesbian couple.
Speaking of couples. I’ve been staying with this older woman, early forties I’d say. I could tell how lonely she was and took advantage. She fell in love with me after a day. I knew that if I’d ask she’d give me everything she owned and still let me go my way. So instead I sneaked away at night, stealing her car and the cash she hid under the sink.
Am I a good guy or a bad guy? Having grown up with undersiders, I never felt comfortable speaking the common human moral language. If you do like talking in those terms, then I suppose you’ll have to decide for yourself where I fit into that mess. If you ask me, I’m just a guy. I don’t feel guilty for doing what I like and for getting what I want. But I’ll rarely take it too far. I enjoy the challenge that comes with violence, and I enjoy the sense of power and control that comes with it, but I don’t enjoy violence without a challenge; meaning, I don’t enjoy hurting the weak. You won’t catch me stealing from a starving man, unless I’m starving too. I’d probably help a lost child find their parents. I’d never kick a dog. I’d definitely help a woman who’s about to get raped, because that stuff’s just nasty. Seriously, a guy who needs violence to get laid needs to be taken out of the gene pool. I’d probably help an attack victim, male or female, if I see one person being attacked by several. I have an issue with weakness; when I see someone acts cowardly I feel like kicking them in the teeth, and asking your friends to help you beat someone up fits the bill for me. I might not sacrifice a stranger to save myself, simply because I know I’ll feel like a coward later. Then again, I kind of like being alive. My bravery, as such, is probably just revulsion in the face of cowardice.
Backtracking my way home, I sold the car and picked up all the stashed goods I hid along the path. Most big cities have undersiders, and where there’s undersiders there’s artifacts. Most warlocks carry their tools of magic on their person (except the weirdos from Essertog who do every spell by hand), and I am no different. Though I’d say I’m more creative than the average warlock. My creativity is not rocket science – the average warlock is just dense.
I have a magical shield embedded in my chest, under the skin (most warlocks wear it as jewelry, which is the first thing people will try and take from you). I have several blades on me, including one in my shoe. I have a multi, which looks like one of those multi-tool army knives, only each tool is a specialized tool for magic. I have an assortment of homemade pills, and the herbs I use to make them. One special pill is always hidden in my rectum – yes, I know, It’s gross and too much work to take in and out each time. But one day I’m sure I’ll need it. I have four rings, one earring, and one bracelet. Lastly, I have a unicorn bone in place of one tooth. You won’t believe how much that cost me.
Remember what I said about being near the bottom of the food chain? That would be without my gear. Wondered how humans manage to stand on equal ground with the likes of vampires and demons? Technically, it’s the ability to do magic. Practically, it’s magical tools and artifact. More modern weapons have their uses, but no one likes them on the underside. Magic, even through an artifact, takes a lot of skill and training to master, but anyone can press a button and blow up some TNT. And if one side starts using conventional warfare, the others will just do the same. Also, most undersiders are old, in human terms. And also, in the underside itself, beyond the human realm, guns won’t do you any good.
Do you see what I mean? About the letter? There was a shootout in a club owned by a minor noble vampire. Mom herself was kidnapped, from what I gather. That kind of thing just doesn’t happen.
I stepped into my home city of Veritom. A city can change a lot in thirteen years, but don’t forget: this city is run by undersiders. And most of them aren’t fans of change.
I slipped quietly into familiar alleys, one of my rings acting as an amplifying for an anti-detection spell as I ran quietly past Bobby’s old drug corner. I felt like I was nine again.
The old club was closed; it was already past 6 AM. Entering through the side door, I couldn’t tell the place was shot. They fixed it up, all good as new.
Cecile was there, still awake. I could tell she didn’t recognize me for a moment, because her eyes and lips expressed emotion far too human. She was a slim woman, with the darkest skin I ever saw. Her eyes were full of light for just one single moment.
“Adam”, she said.
Her face lost all emotion in an instant. I never knew if she did that because she felt comfortable to be herself around me, or because she knew she didn’t have to bother pretending.
“You are well. Jane would be happy”, she added in a flat tone.
She meant it. Whatever “happy” meant to a vampire, it was true mom wanted me to be happy on my own terms.
“Tell me what happened”, I said.
I was glad to see Cecile was ok, but said nothing becuase vampires don’t need human emotional support.
She moved her lower jaw. She did that whenever she was worried. While mom always acted like a human in my presence, Cecile gave up the act once I was old enough to know it didn’t mean she hated me.
“Seven attackers. Six days ago. 5 AM. Automatic weapons, magic, paralyzing projectiles. Unprepared. Unaware. Criers came and left. Princess came and left. Waiting.”
Her fingernails brushed against the fabric of her dress. She was feeling the urge to kill. An unconscious attempt to sharpen her nails, I always thought.
Her eyes met mine. A rare thing for a vampire to do among their peers. Then her face filled with human fury, and I knew she wanted there to be no misunderstanding.
“They will die, Adam. We will get Jane back, then we will kill them all”.
I felt anger growing inside me. Until that moment, I wasn’t all that worried. Mom was old, and she’d been through a lot. Most importantly, she always felt all-powerful to me. I suppose it never sank in that she might be in real danger. But she was. Cecile ‘did a human act’, as mom would call it. Cecile hated acting like a human. This time she did it just for me – she wanted me to understand just how bad the situation really was.
“We’ll get mom back”, I reassured her. “You will feed with her again”.
It was reassurance. Under most circumstances, vampires only shared a meal with someone they trusted with their life, and in a place free from any danger. For mom and Cecile to feed together means they will both be in a very safe place, most likely their home, and that they’ll both be comfortable and relaxed, meaning the conflict would be over. Sharing a meal (Oh, and by that I mean sucking the blood from the same human at the same time) was also one of the most intimate things two vampires did with each other. Vampires are all about blood; the don’t kiss, don’t fuck, don’t even hold hands. They can do all those things, they just don’t want to. I know I told you that already, but it felt relevant.
Cecile gave me a soft smile, a hint of tears in her eyes. Again, that was all an act just for me. But it was her way of telling me how she felt, so in a sense it was real.
I got to work. Drew a diagram on the floor, sprinkled powder, chanted words. Both Council and the Throne already did that, but it’s not like they’ll share with me. Oh, Council represents humans, and is comprised of human warlocks. The Throne is high vampire nobility, this case mom’s clan. Mom isn’t very important, but she’s still nobility, which is why a member of the high nobility came personally. Both groups must have began their own investigation of what happened – which is what they are supposed to do. Only, Council doesn’t give a shit about vampires, and the Throne actively hates the minor nobles. Well, not “hate”, but you get the deal. Vampires were never great at working together on a large scale. In human terms, vampires are very tribal. Then again, humans are also very tribal. Why do you think politicians can destroy countless lives without feeling any guilt, yet still care deeply for their own families? Same principle, only worse. Vampire nobles are basically the ideal to which corrupt politicians aspire.
Conjuring a shadow of the past, I could see the event unfold as a play made out of mist. I found mom, saw her jump on one of the men, trying to bite his throat only to be stopped by some physical protection. Mom must have seen the protection beforehand, but her instincts in sudden battle made her try to bite the throat. Though only an image in mist, she suddenly looked so old to me. An old vampire, one who never mastered magic, who never had a gift for combat, biting at an armored neck.
Cecile was right. We will kill them all.
The man staked mom in the heart. Strangely old school. Her body fell, and the man returned to shooting at some other target. Once it was all over, the attackers carried away their wounded, as well as three unarmored bodies.
“Who did they take?” I asked Cecile.
“Jane, Marcus, Miriam”.
Marcus was a vampire. A warlock vampire. Mom’s club wasn’t his usual scene. I had no idea who Miriam was.
“Explain”, I said.
Cecile gave me a blank look, undoubtedly taking a moment to separates in her head what I knew from what I didn’t.
“Marcus came to talk to Jane. Cooperation. Didn’t ask. Miriam is Crier meal. Joined one week before. Twenty one. Unknown relevance.”
So, the men took mom, a warlock vampire who came to talk to mom about something, and a seemingly random meal-girl? Clearly there was more to this. I’ll have to figure out what.
Oh, and “Crier” is what vampires call a human among themselves. Because we cry, get it? It’s the human action vampires find most unsettling.
“Sleep”, I told Cecily. “I will put up protections and stand guard”.
“No”, she answered. “You sleep too. Allies come to guard us”.
I didn’t ask for more details. Cecile wouldn’t say that if she wasn’t sure. And she was right; I had to get some sleep if I wanted to get anything done later. Most of what I had to do could only be done at night anyway.
“Upstairs?” I asked.
“Clear. Sleep”.
There were rooms upstairs. Some for sex, some for discussion. If you’re wondering why the sex, well, humans really like fucking vampires. The vampires don’t care for it, but they do like what comes after. A vampire’s bite inflicts a minor spell on the victim, preventing them from fighting and interfering with their memories the next day. Blood for sex is a common way for vampires to feed in the modern world, though most humans don’t realize it; they think they have a bad hangover. No human likes getting jumped in a dark alley, and no vampire wants a war with Council. So it kind of works.
“Adam?” a voice called once I got upstairs.
“Lily?” I called back.
She hadn’t changed at all. I knew she wouldn’t, but it was still surprising. I am only human. Lily was my best friend growing up. Turned when she was sixteen, mom took her in and taught her about being a vampire. I was twelve. The first year as a vampire is hard, since vampire instincts are on the predatory side, not the civilized side. One time Lily attacked me, but mom stopped her. We became close friends after that. Meaning, she used me to train her human play-acting. I let her feed on me when I was thirteen. We had sex when I was fourteen. She said she never had sex before, and was worried she couldn’t act the part. Took me a couple months to realize that was a lie.
“Adam!” she ran to me and hugged me. “I’ve missed you so much!”
“I’ve missed you too, Li”.
She leaned closer, a mischievous look in her eyes, then kissed me lightly on the lips.
In case you’re wondering how she could be so cheerful with friends having been murdered and mom taken away, let me remind you that it’s all an act anyhow. Maybe you remembered on your own, but even I took time to wrap my head around it, and I grew up with these people. So it felt relevant to remind you. Also, do you sometimes think I’m talking strangely? In general, I mean. If so, you’re not alone. My normal way of speaking is a human-vampire hybrid speaking pattern which I developed accidentally. Wasn’t able to fully get rid of it, even to this day. When vampire use words, they are often simple words used economically and efficiently. Meaning, the opposite of how humans speak. The result can often sound stilted, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Add to that how I never went to highschool, let alone college, and this is what you get.
“Lets sleep together!”, Lily said.
“Ok, but actual sleep”.
She froze. “You thought I meant sex?” there was annoyance in her voice, and a small hint of disgust. “Sorry, Adam, but I don’t feel that way towards you. I did, once, but it was a long time ago. I hope you can understand”.
I looked into her eyes, searching.
“Flawless act”, I said. “You are amazing”.
She smiled. “Thank you!”
She led me by the hand to one of the rooms, then to the bed.
“We can have sex if you want”, she said.
“Thanks, Li. But I’m honestly tired. And you can’t feed on me. I need my strength to find mom”.
She gave me a cheery smile which meant nothing.
“I know. Now that you’re here, I know you’ll get mom back. Your acting got sloppy, so I know exactly what you’re thinking. And I really do love you, even though you went away for a bit”.
I think she meant that love part. Not “love” like a human love, but... you get the deal. And she probably also meant the “for a bit” part. Vampires treat time differently than us humans do. Thirteen years is like taking a day off. Lily wasn’t old yet, merely thirty two, but a vampire’s sense of time is a part of their nature more than a result of their age. It must have rubbed off on me too, since I rarely felt my age. Growing up with vampires makes you think time will never ran out on you. Which I guess is true for them. And maybe it’s why I’m a twenty-eight year old man who still thinks he’s sixteen.
Lily and I always talked like humans to each other. Her acting did get much better, but it wasn’t flawless like I told her. I could still read her well enough, see the cracks behind her mask. Or were the cracks part of the acting? Was I being played for real? No way to know. Fuck.
“Can I give you a blowjob?” she asked.
I didn’t feel a need for it, so she most likely didn’t read that in my body. She knew I’d help mom no matter what, she knew she couldn’t drink my blood, and she knew I’ll love her no matter what she’ll do for me. There was nothing for her to gain. No angle that I could see. If anything, it would only cause me to suspect her motives – which it did. Maybe I’m getting uber-played for some incomprehensible vampiric reason, but if you ask me, I think she simply loved me, in her own vampiric way, and wanted to make me feel good for that reason only.
“Alright”, I said. “I bet you’ve mastered that too”.
She did. It was the best blowjob of my life.

I'm usualy a very positive person, I'm a nurse that works in a retirement home, everybody loves me at work, both colleagues and patients, they always comment on my elevated mood, and how its nice to see some1 who is always smiling and laughing... long story short, they are all amazmed how positive and open person I am.
But.... my room is a literal dumpster, im not even exaggerating when i say that, i sleep on dirty old couch, covered in booze, leftover food, dirty dishes and clothes, when i get high/drugged/pilled.up i pee in my room in a bottle or a bag so i dont have to leave the room, i have around 20 thrash bags that i have nowhere to throw away to, i live on takeout and alcohol, just sit on PC and dont move for hours watching porn or playing video games. But i wouldnt even call myself depressed or anything, for me thats like normal lazy, but the fact i cant even dare to tell anyone about that makes me wonder how normal is it.... am i just so depressed that i dont even notice it anymore?
​

I've been wondering how all of this is going to end.
I myself even before now had been wondering will this subreddit exist in perpetuity? It does take commitment and energy to moderate it.
Especially now that this has taken such an ugly turn in light of her livestream yesterday, I wonder now more than ever what's next. Is legal action the only next step? Is there anything she can do to make this right?
Mina is obviously deeply troubled and really wants people to stop staying negative things about her on the internet. But what what would it take for Mina's critics to stop? Is she redeemable? Is there anyway she can quell this storm without just resorting to calling her students demon possessed?
In spite of all the harm she's done, I do feel bad for Mina in a way. She really showed her whole behind yesterday and it is sad that she doesn't have anyone in her life that can protect her right now. There is no one who can take her phone away from her. There is no one who can tell her to stop live streaming. No one that can help her come up with a better way forward. I'm not sure how it got to this point.
The truth is there has to be a way forward.
What do we actually want from Mina?
I think any admission of wrong doing or acknowledgement of pain caused might be too much to ask. I think the fact that Mina has made up so many stories about her life shows that she is an extremely insecure person who cannot handle the truth about who she is. We can't expect someone who is capable of lying the way she does to be capable of owning things over night. In her mind she is a blameless 'High end divinity" "guru". Apparently yesterday she also called herself a prophet and said she was chosen by God. .
I think if Mina truly wanted this problem to go away, she could easily offer refunds to her dissatisfied clients. It would increase her “barkat”, right?. I actually don't understand why I would want anybody's money that was not given to me wholeheartedly. The fact that she is clinging to such money- even over her pride and over her good name- shows to me that she never understood "energetics" like she claims she does. Why would you WANT such money? Didn't she say she only wanted "halal" or "kosher" money? She is clinging to money taken from women who are crying out that there was an unfair exchange. That is unclean money. That is dirty money. I wouldn't want it. I feel like it would curse me.
Or is it just an issue of practicality? Is it just that Mina simply cannot afford to give refunds to all her dissatisfied customers? Isn't that in itself an indictment of Mina's business though? How can you have a business with that many dissatisfied customers??
To all the women defending Mina, if you are happy with her services, you can continue to patronize her business. Like I don't understand the point of going out of your way to defend Mina and claim you got "value" from her work. If you got value then you can let Mina keep your money. If you truly "manifested" all the money back, and the course really "paid for itself", then it shouldn't be a problem. But the women who do not feel they got the value they were expecting should be able to get their money back and move on with their lives. Fighting for Mina's right to keep their money is totally gross.
A truly abundant queen could never cling to such money. She would probably be so boss with it that she would pay them their money back with interest - just to make a point about how little she actually needs the money. But Mina is so much in "peasant" consciousness she can’t let the money go. It shows that she doesn’t really know how to manifest money like she claims she does. She can only get money by taking it from other people. She does not actually know anything about creating real value and growing real wealth. All the money she ever got was from trickery and energetic theft. (Now you at least know why you shouldn't be buying her money manifestation courses)
If a full refund is impractical, would at least a partial refund suffice?
Shouldn't she have enough die-hard supporters to compensate for any losses she might incur giving refunds to unhappy customers?
Is there anyway Mina can make this right in your mind?

​
In this chapter, Glimmer, Catra and Adora interrogate Calamity and towards the end the conversation turns to the topic of the Nothingness Princess.
​
So everything is fine. After all, Adora ruined their plans! We are safe now!„ she said with hope in her voice. But when Lady Cala smiled broadly at her, she realized that she was very wrong.
„No, you're not. For the First Ones have Many Servants. Including a Hunger That Cannot Be Satiated. And believe me, they won't hesitate to use it. For you have destroyed not one, but two of their toys. He will not forget this for you. And after all, they have a Galaxy to cleanse.” said the monster with a beautiful face and sat down cross-legged, resting his head on his hand. There was silence. She felt as if the entire room had become icy cold. She looked at her friends. Catra flattened her ears, and Melog curled up at her companion's feet. Adora stood firm, staring at the Aristocrat, but she could see that the princess of power was trembling internally. She herself… Well, she was absolutely terrified. But she pulled herself together.
„What proof do we have that what you say is true?” she said, trying to sound unfazed. Lady Cala laughed and said.
„I have absolutely none. I don't know if everything I told you is just a lie. After all, what are we all, even me, just specks in the endless darkness? But do you dare to take the risk? Will you sacrifice the lives of the inhabitants of Etheria and other worlds because you consider my behavior inconsistent with your moral standards? It's a matter of your conscience, luckily I don't have one.”
Catra, however, grinned menacingly.
„So that's what this whole speech was for? So you can scare us into releasing you! You are a faithful disciple of Shadow Weaver. Girls! Let's get out of here! We can handle it ourselves!” she looked at them and took a step as if she was going to leave. Lady Cala snorted contemptuously and stood up.
„Will you be able to handle it? So who? I was once read a fairy tale about the Princess Of Nothingness. A princess who, deprived of her kingdom and homeland, wanders around the courts, counting on support. I hope that the teachers who read it to me wanted me to learn humility... Personally, I think I'm too humble... I wonder which of you could be called the Princess of Nothingness. Are you Adora?” she looked at the Princess of Power. “You have renounced your nation... You have twice betrayed those you fought for... You have no one and nothing. The only thing that makes you valuable is the power you received through some sick joke of fate. But this power can leave you at any moment, or, what would be much funnier, consume you. Or Maybe you.” she looked at Catra . “A kitten abandoned so many times… Unwanted… It's probably occurred to you more than once that it's your fault. That others saw what you were like deep inside. That you're not good enough. That you are a disappointment. Now you have turned out to be some kind of princess, inheritor of a fallen kingdom, heiress of a lost throne. But how long will your father, your friends and your wife be there for you when you become the same? It was easy now to keep her true self in check, but when times get tough, and believe me they do, won't the real Catra reveal her true self to the world again? What about your rights, Queen Glimmer?” she looked her straight in the eyes. “Ruler of a Kingdom built on the graves of the murdered… I wonder if your mother knew the truth that I learned yesterday…”
„What truth are you talking about?„ she asked, looking confused at Lady Cala .
„The truth about the fate of the true inhabitants of Etheria.” When she said this, Catra lowered her head and Melog turned blue. “Oh, you already know! Who would have thought that you would be willing to share the truth you discovered with your wife and friend?”
„What is she talking about?” she asked Catra , who started talking in a low voice.
„Then, in the underground city, we came across a painting. It depicted the previous She”Ra. She... belonged to a race that no longer exists...„ she said quietly, and Lady Cala nodded.
„In fact, the First Ones exterminated the original inhabitants to steal She-Ra's power, and then brought in the workers, whose descendants now inhabit Etheria. You rule a kingdom that is not your own, Dear Glimmer... Just like you, Adora , you rule the power that your ancestors stole from the true inhabitants of the planet...
Then there was silence. She knew that most of what Lady Cala said wasn't true. She wanted to hurt them, sow seeds of doubt in their souls. She could only hope that nothing would sprout. But that last one… It completely undermined the way they saw themselves… The way she saw herself. Who was she then... Did they have the right to call themselves inhabitants of Etheria ? However, she decided that she would not give this woman the satisfaction.
„You are the Princess Of Nothingness.” she said firmly, not taking her eyes off the monster with a beautiful face.
„What? „ asked the surprised Aristocrat.”
„You have power, I cannot deny that to you, but it comes from the being from whom you come. Everything you have was given to you by your master and can be taken away by him at any time. You are just his tool, used to fulfill the purpose for which you were created. However, you have nothing behind it . No one who would care about you, who would worry about you. All you have is the void where others have their hearts.”
Lady Cala stared at her speechless, then growled.
„I swear by the power in my veins that I will take your planet away from you and turn the lives of its inhabitants into a nightmare.”
„Try it.„ she said quietly and, taking her friend and Brother Blade's hands, she teleported to her chambers, leaving the furious monster to pound its fists into the force field.

Morton White

29 April 1917 – 27 May 2016
Part of a Series on the Philosophy of History
Morton White and the Regularity Theory of Historical Explanation
Monday 29 April 2024 is the 107th anniversary of the birth of Morton White (29 April 1917 – 27 May 2016), who was born in New York City on this date in 1917.
White is known, among other things, for his rejection of speculative philosophies of history. It’s not always clear what philosophers mean when they say they reject speculative philosophies of history, but one suspects that this is a way to indirectly distance themselves from that bête noir, Hegel, or that other bête noir, Marx, whose birthday is just a few days away. He opens his book Foundations of Historical Knowledge with exactly this gambit, naming and shaming Hegel, Marx, Vico, Spengler, and Toynbee in rapid succession.
White says that philosophy of history is, “a discipline with a checkered past, a respectable present and, I hope, a brighter future.” Presumably Hegel and friends represent the checkered past. Why was this past checkered? Because they went about the business of philosophy of history all wrong. Now we are smarter and we know better. Here is how White characterizes the change in philosophy of history that delivered us from the bad old days of all that had gone before:

“Instead of seeking to chart the development of epochs, cultures, and civilizations, the contemporary philosopher of history is more interested in analyzing historical thought and language. Instead of trying to advance or defend some general theory of the historical process itself, the contemporary philosopher of history who is not dominated by the aims of Marxism or by certain forms of theology is now primarily concerned with the logic of history, anxious to elucidate terms that are commonly employed by historians and historically minded thinkers, and eager to advance toward a clearer understanding of the chief intellectual activities of the historian.”

Notice that White here invoked a desire to advance toward a clearer understanding of the chief intellectual activities of the historian. This is the familiar figure of the practicing historian—one might even say the familiar philosophical figure of the practicing historian, sometimes called the working historian—which I previously discussed in my episode on Siefried Kracauer, who was also interested in a philosophical exposition of the practicing historian. In my Siefried Kracauer episode I argued that the idea of the practicing historian serves the philosophy of history much as the idea of the practicing mathematician serves the philosophy of mathematics. The underlying idea here is that philosophers get too focused on peculiarly philosophical problems and lose sight of the actual problems faced by historians doing history, scientists doing science, and mathematicians doing mathematics (as though this were the proper remit of the philosopher).
If specifically philosophical problems are illegitimate, as is sometimes implied, then if anything remains of philosophy, we are left with the Quinean dictum that philosophy of science is philosophy enough. I’m not going to argue this point at present, but I wanted to mention it so as to be on the up-and-up on the motivations that drive a lot of contemporary philosophy. But is the practicing historian, or the practicing whatever who is invoked by philosophers, really the philosophically pristine figure that they are made out to be? Or might it be that the practicing historian is a construction of the philosopher of history who wants to attribute his views to this pristine figure so as to derive the disciplinary authority of some figure not attached to a particular philosophical school? This might sound like an uncharitable way to characterize the work of a philosopher, but I think we can legitimately ask this question in relation to White’s use of the figure of the historian.
White does not himself use the language of the “practicing historian” or “working historian” but instead uses “professional historian,” as in the following from his Foundations of Historical Knowledge:

“…professional historians write their histories about a limited class of things. Not any thing may be a central subject of a historian’s history. Historians write histories of nations, civilizations, scientific societies, philosophical movements, revolutions, economies, religions. They usually do not write histories of planets, animals, stars, rocks, or galaxies. So we know that they are primarily concerned with the social behavior of human beings. However, the problem before us now is not that of defining the class of things or subjects of which historians with a large ‘H’ may write a history. We are asking what features of a given subject should be mentioned in a history of that subject. And if we are seeking a definition of the notion of what features should be recorded by a professional historian, I do not think that any useful one can be supplied.”

Historians today do write histories of planets, animals, stars, rock, and galaxies. We find this in particular in the school of big history, which I discussed in a recent episode on my paper, A Complexity Ladder for Big History. Nevertheless, it remains true that professional historians are primarily concerned with the social behavior of human beings. This loose way of understanding history allows for differences in scope as to what properly constitutes history, but, even given his wiggle room, White concedes the impossibility of a definition of what is to be included in a history, and what is to be excluded. This is the familiar problem of the historian’s selection of his material.
The historian’s selection has been a target for critics of the possibility of objectivity in history. White addressed the objectivity question for history in his book Social Thought in America. I have not yet been able to get a copy of this book, but there is a section reprinted in Hans Meyerhoff’s anthology The Philosophy of History in Our Time. White’s Social Thought in America was first published in 1949, some years before Danto’s Analytical Philosophy of History was published in 1965. I mention this because White implicitly discusses the problem of the perfect chronicler, which we find fully explicit in Danto, and White doesn’t make the breakthrough that Danto did, namely, that the logical structure of a narrative sentence is distinct from propositions such as one would find in a chronicle.
A narrative sentence describes an earlier event in terms of a later event—for example, the future 16th president of the United States was born in a log cabin in Kentucky on 12 February 1809—which is a meaning that no chronicle, no matter how exhaustive, can capture. White has his own solution to this problem that is different from Danto’s, but since Danto’s work changed the field, White’s solution is not discussed today. But I wanted to mention this book by White—Social Thought in America—since it further develops the theme of the working historian.
As I said, I don’t have a copy of the book, but the extract from the book included in Meyerhoff is a discussion of American historian Charles Beard. Beard is among the most eminent of American historians, with a multi-volume work on The Rise of American Civilization and his influential book An Economic Interpretation of the Constitution of the United States, among many other works. Beard would seem to be a perfect candidate for a working historian or practicing historian or professional historian. Beard did, however, occasionally express himself on philosophical matters connected to history, so his work isn’t perfectly pristine with respect to philosophy.
What I find interesting is that White does not take Beard as a model of historical practice from which philosophers should learn, but in fact he critiques Beard’s views. This strikes me as both strange and as understandable. It is strange because, if the philosopher is supposed to take his instruction in history from the professional historian, presumably it would be White’s business to follow the lead of Beard and provide a philosophical justification for why Beard’s historical practice is the proper model for philosophy of history. Is it understandable because no philosopher can resist poking holes in the philosophical arguments of others, especially when those others are non-philosophers who are a soft target for philosophical argumentation.
White does a poor job of selflessly serving professional historians, but he does a good job of drawing out the philosophical presuppositions of professional historians like Beard, and in demonstrating their previously unnoticed consequences of these presuppositions. Beard redeems himself in White’s eyes only because he fails to heed his own philosophical views in his historical practice:

“It should be said in Beard’s behalf that he was the only member of the group I have examined who has given a full account of the methods and aims of the social sciences. It is not surprising, therefore, that his ideas should be subject to detailed criticism. He raced around fields where most of the others stepped lightly and infrequently. And very often he says what they really thought, while they merely mumbled it incoherently or kept it to themselves. For all his mistakes and his philosophical confusions, Beard’s later work in the methodology of the social sciences remains stimulating. It goes without saying that his errors in philosophy cast no reflection on his work in social science itself. In this respect he takes his position in a long and worthy line of scientists— physical and social—who have worked with standards in philosophy which they dared not use in science.”

This final claim that scientists have worked with standards in philosophy which they dared not use in science—the crucial condition for Beard’s redemption arc—poses many interesting questions. Should scientists dare to employ their philosophical standards in scientific practice? Is it possible for scientists to hold philosophical views, if only in subtle and difficult to discern ways, that do not influence their scientific practice? I have been assuming that one of the reasons philosophers appeal to the practice of working historians or the practice of working mathematician as the justification for authentic philosophical views reflective of a discipline is because these practices are believed to be purer because there are uncontaminated by philosophy.
Of course, the forbidden views the intrusion of which is particularly unwelcome are usually metaphysical views. One of the presumed ingredients of a speculative philosophy of history such as proscribed by White is too much metaphysics, or the wrong kind of metaphysics. It is entirely possible that someone might formulate a metaphysical philosophy of history that was not a speculative philosophy of history. For example, an analytical philosopher of history might formulate an ontology of historical objects, events, and processes while remaining entirely agnostic on any laws governing these historical objects, events, and processes.
Of course, we can ask why someone would take the trouble to formulate an ontology for history while carefully avoiding noticing any pattern that these objects, events and processes might exhibit, especially as the historical events and processes that connect historical objects to one another might themselves be taken to be laws of history. But let’s assume, for purposes of argument, that it is possible dance around any connection between events and to lay out an ontology of history that has nothing to do with laws of history.
I strongly suspect that the same kind of animus that has been directed against speculative philosophy of history by analytical philosophers would be directed also against a non-speculative metaphysical philosophy of history. White himself acknowledges pragmatists, naturalists, and realists are anti-metaphysical and united in their rejection of speculative philosophy of history, which implies the equivalence of metaphysical and speculative philosophy of history, but, as we have seen, careful observance of the method of isolation can separate the two.
I said earlier that Danto had changed philosophy of history so dramatically that earlier approaches to narrative, such as we find in White, have fallen out of notice since Danto’s work took the field. This is sometimes expressed as Danto inaugurating an era of post-positivist analytical philosophy of history. White belonged to the still-positivism period of analytical philosophy of history. The high water mark of positivism prior to Danto is represented by Carl Hempel. In my episode on Carl Hempel I mentioned his covering law model of historical explanation. This is the tradition within which White was working, though he called Hempel’s covering law model the regularity theory of historical explanation, and he glossed it like this:

“It will be convenient to begin by considering what is sometimes called the covering law, or regularity, theory of historical explanation. On this view an explanation of a war, a revolution, or an economic depression is similar in structure to an explanation of a fire. We may explain a particular fire, it is maintained, by deducing the statement that the fire has taken place from the statement that a spark has fallen into a wastebasket of dry paper surrounded by oxygen and from the law that whenever a spark falls into such a wastebasket under such conditions, a fire will take place. Some philosophers who accept this view contend that not only the truth of a singular explanatory statement in ordinary language, like ‘The lit cigarette caused the fire’ or ‘The bent rail caused the derailment,’ but also that of a singular statement in history books, like ‘The Moslem seizure of the Mediterranean Sea caused the breakdown of the Mediterranean Commonwealth in Europe,’ is dependent on the truth of a law. Ever since Hume, such a theory has exerted a powerful hold on philosophers, even on those who recognize and emphasize the limits of historical speculation. The idea that we can intuitively see causal connections between historical events without appealing to inductively established laws, or that causes have unanalyzable powers to bring about their effects, has seemed indefensible to philosophers of an empirical turn of mind, and they have therefore been led to the view that causal statements are either disguised statements of laws or are in some way dependent upon them for their truth. Even though historians in their explanatory statements refer to particular events like the Civil War and the conflict between Northern and Southern economic interests, philosophers under the influence of Hume and Mill have maintained that such explanatory statements turn out upon analysis to imply, involve, presuppose, or depend on general laws.”

The covering law model presents a subtle problem for the analytical philosopher of history. The analytical philosopher of history has renounced the possibility of finding laws of history. But the idea of laws of history is ambiguous. What is and what is not a law of history? The covering law model of historical explanation makes explanations of historical events into law-like statements, but how is an explanation of history distinction from a speculative philosophy of history that gives a lawlike explanation of events? Are we not, with the covering law model, offering laws of history?
White is sensitive to this problem. He was concerned that the laws of the covering law model might be mistaken for the faulty generalizations of speculative philosophers of history, and on this problem wrote:

“Although the ‘laws’ of certain speculative philosophers of history do not always turn out to apply to single examples, there is no doubt that they often apply to very few examples by comparison to the laws of natural science, and this paucity of inductive evidence may lead some critics of the regularity theory of historical explanation to complain that any law of the sort the regularist may employ in an explanatory deductive argument will resemble the allegedly bankrupt laws of the speculative theorist of history. Once again, however, it must be pointed out that there is no a priori reason to suppose that regularism involves an appeal to indefensible laws, and also that where a speculative theorist asserts a law that is not supported by inductive evidence and he cannot compensate for that defect by, for example, deducing it from more fundamental statements, he is justly criticized. The fact that certain speculative philosophers of history assert faulty generalizations is not an argument against the regularity theory of historical explanation.”

Is it only the indefensible laws of history that are bankrupt, leaving defensible laws of history intact? If this is the case, how do we distinguish between defensible and indefensible generalizations in history? If we can offer more fundamental laws from which our laws of history are derived, and the fundamental laws are among the defensible generalizations, does that get us off the hook? Have we successfully avoided a metaphysical philosophy of history if we can support our historical generalizations with inductive evidence or more fundamental laws?
When White argues that historians are really using a covering law model even when they don’t realize that they are appealing to this kind of explanation of historical events, he is making an appearance/reality distinction: the appearance of ordinary historical explanation is not that of covering law model explanations, but in reality this is what the historian is doing. The historian doesn’t know that he is using a covering law model of explanation. That is to say, the professional historian doesn’t know what he is doing as he is doing history. This seems harsh, but it is exactly this lack of self-awareness that White thinks redeems Beard, who, according to White, doesn’t impose his naïve philosophy on his historical practice. So much for historical practice as a guide to philosophy of history.
Moreover, if making an appearance/reality distinction is metaphysics, White is engaged in a metaphysical philosophy of history because he distinguishes between the appearance and reality of covering law models of historical explanation. In all fairness to White, I agree with the essentials of his claim: historians are presupposing a number of covering laws in their historical explanations. The problem is often that the laws are so many, so subtle, so elusive, and so intricately tied together that it would be difficult in the extreme to tease out the exact deduction that is being made. The complexity of history defeats ordinary human deductive powers.
There is a relatively unstudied backwater in the philosophy of history that would consist in reducing this complexity of history to a manageable form—perhaps through an adequate taxonomy of historical objects, events, and processes, which I earlier called a metaphysical philosophy of history.
Here lies an opportunity to demonstrate that a metaphysical philosophy of history is possible within the framework of analytical philosophy of history. There is no reason to believe that this cannot be done, but exhibiting such on ontology would be more convincing that merely arguing for its plausibility.

Video Presentation

https://youtu.be/5ulU0P3ir9g
https://www.instagram.com/p/C6YEiCLNuwd/
https://odysee.com/@Geopolicraticus:7/morton-white-and-the-regularity-theory:c

Podcast Edition

https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/64tLDTq7cJb
https://podcasters.amazon.com/podcasts/a31b8276-53cd-4723-b6ad-a39c8faa4572/episodes/bd3101c1-93ad-462c-8a5b-b488ffb41015
https://www.iheart.com/podcast/269-today-in-philosophy-of-his-146507578/episode/morton-white-and-the-regularity-theory-172150253/
​

For context, the characters in the story is as follow. Cannot go into too much details that may giveaway identity as this is an ongoing issue.

• Father, John Doe, is a serial cheater, manipulator, and a turd in general. Its either his way or the highway. When he needs you, you can count on him to be present and responsive, otherwise pretty much AWOL and absent. Bad tempered and a bit of a snowflake.
• Mother, Jane Doe. Used to work but stopped as John does not like her working which eventually made her reliant and dependent on John. She is kind and sometime cheeky person.
• Mike, family friend. Used to be John's best friend and would take us to places whenever we visited him. Very generous, kind, and caring person, but can be quite spontaneous.

Based on what I heard when stories are told, Jane is the prettiest girl in their high school year and John got her pregnant during one of their dates. Not sure if he intended it to be a one night stand or if he is really into Jane. Jane's family is quite conservative and wanted to keep the child. Not sure what John's family's opinion at the time but it doesn't matter. John and Jane eventually got married and then continued with their tertiary education. John went overseas while Jane stayed back in their hometown to attend local university.
Fast forward to when I was in year 1. John and Jane both have finished their tertiary studies. John came home and, together with Jane, whom I shall refer to as mum from this point onwards, went to another town to start their careers leaving me with my grandparents. My grandparents are very strict and instilled a lot of traditional values in me (i.e., must be someone that has good conscience, etc.). It was not until year 4 that John and mum has sufficiently established themselves to have me stay with them.
At first, everything is great. I am very happy that I can finally be like the other kids and living with my parents. Understandably, mum is a bit overwhelmed as parenting is a whole new world for her. Although she stayed with my grandparents and I for the first few years of my life, a lot of her time went towards her university studies, so there are a lot of trial and error with her parenting style. This is also around the time when John got her to quit her job.
In the last 6 months of that year, John increasingly spent more time on business trip overseas. Then one day I woke up to a screaming match at around 05:00 AM in the morning. Mum has been suspicious for awhile about why John insists on keep going to his "business trips". She begged him to stop but he won't listen, and this is when I first learnt about John's infidelity. I was quite shocked as I always pictured my parents as those picture perfect happy family, and maybe that's why I don't remember much beyond that night.
We went to live overseas at the start of my year 5 to the country John always went to on his "business trips". I am sure at first it is all strictly actual business reason, so who knows when he picked up his side-chick. We were happy for awhile. During that time I am not sure if he has totally stopped seeing the side-chick or not, but arguments become increasingly frequent till the day we learnt that the side-chick is actually another employee in the company and has recently been terminated for sneaking another man to the company-provided female dormitory.
Things went on normally after that, but John has never stopped being stingy with us. He would get the taxi driver that we used frequently to give him extra receipts and stuff for him to file as travel expense to the company. We were given a certain budget for rental accommodation and I know for a fact that we were always way under the budget, but John would falsify invoices to make it look like we used up most (if not all) of the allowance. His reasoning is that we should save up so that we can buy our own place or whatever. Whenever we go out, he will pick the cheapest place to eat, stay, etc., and we hardly spend money on anything outside of the necessity (i.e., groceries).
Because of our lifestyle, my school life has been a nightmare. If you do not live in a certain part of the town, not caucasian, not wearing the "cool kids" brand, not having things like walkman/MP3 player, not wearing deodorant, or look anything out of the ordinary, you get ostracized. You get made fun of, get excluded, being the butt of jokes, etc. This went on for 3 years until we moved to another city. Am I frustrated? Very, but I figured at the time that if I can survive this, I will be fine regardless of where I go.
Same thing happened, as expected, in my new school, but this time I had practice, so I didn't care. The bullying isn't as prevalent in this new school and I started having a small group of friends, which then gradually included most of the Asian kids in the year. Arguably, being part of a group makes the less cool kid somewhat cool to some extent as we are generally smarter and perform better with our grades. At this point, I suppose I can say that I am happy. I have friends, and my parents seems to be getting along just fine.
Fast forward to high school graduation. I have applied to and was accepted by a university that is as far from my parent's place as possible. Mostly because I want to get away from John. He is the type of father that would sigh and look at you disapprovingly when he sees you on your computer playing a bit of games. As if he is so disappointed to have a kid that played computer games.
While I was away, John and his best friend Mike started a joint venture in our home country. They bought a plot of land in a rapidly developing place to build residential building to rent out. Outside of this, John has also climbed the corporate ladder to become one of the region's big honcho and by now, he owned about 3 properties that he is renting out so we were never affected much financially as he has his secret squirrel cash that we built up from living underbudget for the last 8 years.
Since I was away all those time, I only get scraps of information about the last 12 years of my family. Apparently at some point John sends my mum and sibling to live elsewhere to get a foreign citizenship so that we have a better future, better job opportunity, etc. He stayed alone back in the country where we previously were living in. Around the same time, the joint venture has accumulated enough money in the last few years for Mike, John, mum, and a few other friends to go travelling. Of course, John did not have to pay for a penny on the travel and accommodation cost because it is all the profit from the joint venture.
Things beyond this point are all allegedly what happened. On the way back from this trip, John went to get secretly married to his current mistress. Then he continued on as if nothing has happened. Mum once noticed that his wedding ring looks different and joked that he may have gotten secretly remarried but I don't recall seeing his response, which is odd. He bought a new luxury villa for the mistress along with a brand new BMW. He also bought each of her son a Mercedes and I can't remember if it is another BMW or what. He will take them all out for meals and holiday to places and shower them with luxury gifts. He even bought luxury bags for the mistress' sons' partners. Meanwhile, our house in the new country is falling into disrepair and he always say that he has no money to fix anything. I guess mum does not want to stress me out so she kept this a secret (about the fact that something is wrong with John).
After some digging around, I come across a few names of people to look into. There was this one particular lady that stood out from the rest, so I decided to add her on social media to see if there's anything off. A day later John called me asking me what I was doing. I was surprised as I hardly talked to John in the past 10 years unless during family visit. I told him the truth and that I was curious about this person, lets call her Karen. This was when he confessed to me that he has an affair outside and confessed that he bought her a luxury villa, etc.. Not going to lie, but I am shocked. How can he do this and then claim that he will still be responsible and take care of my mum and siblings when he has been very stingy with everything that involves money. He promised me that he will tell me more about Karen and will find a good time to talk to mum about this, so I promised him that till the day he confessed to mum, I won't meddle in his business. Maybe I am being selfish or stupid, but I know mum would know about Karen to certain degree due to John's history of infidelity. Who knows.

For context as to how badly he hamstrung mum financially, he will only give her a bit of cash to pay for my sister's extracurricular activities where the instructor wants to be paid in cash. Then he gave her a credit card for groceries, etc., but he will also lump all the utility bills, school tuition, etc., to that card, so it will frequently max out. Imagine how mum must feel when she goes to the doctor or get groceries only to find that her card has been declined. When she call him to try get him to help, he either won't answer or take a long time to answer, which brought mum to tears numerous time. Imagine the embarrassment that she has to endure in public places. Then he would constantly question the transactions on the credit card and constantly complained to outsiders and my grandparents that mum is spending too much and he cannot keep up. He won't even attend my sibilings' graduation. When my sister asked if she can go travelling with her high school friend before university starts, he said that he doesn't have the spare cash, but I found out that he has just been travelling with his mistress and I have the photo to prove it.

Mike knew what John did and chastised him for it, so they are no longer on speaking terms, which means the joint venture is kinda sitting in limbo. The agreement that they originally signed is quite loosely worded, which John used as an excuse to say that Mike has been plotting to devour his share of the business even before they embarked on this journey. Because of John's infidelity, Mike has been withholding the earnings from the joint venture because he knows that Karen is a golddigger. For context, allegedly Karen is one of those girls that sleeps around with rich people. They would even fly her out to see them. I spoke to John to ask him why don't he let me manage Mike because clearly they are no longer on talking terms and he has no leg to stand on to recoup his investment. Mike and I are on good terms, so if I can takeover, we can preserve our stake in the business. At the back of my mind I was preparing for the day when Karen drained every penny out of John. This way we have a leg to fallback on.
My lawyer friend suggested that I get John to agree to this in writing, which I would have done if I could, but looking back I feel that it may be going a bit too far and John might find this offensive, so I did not. 1 year later, Mike got me into the business and as soon as John found out, he came to see me and we have a screaming match in front of the grandparents. In his words "if you don't back out, it will get dirty" and "don't call me dad if you refuse to back out". My position is and always has been "help me to help you", we should be on the same side, so help me understand what is your plan because as soon as I burn this bridge with Mike, there is no going back. If the original signed agreement is too loosely worded that John has little ground to stand on, we will lose everything. When I say everything, it is not that much when converted to USD (probably around $220k).
John has been very well paid in his job and I have his bank statement to see that he gets annual bonus which is close to $100k USD on top of his salary, so he really has no need to go this far just for $200k when we will still be paid dividend if I manage it. Especially when this dividend money is to be set aside when the worst eventually happened. My only explanation is that John is being his usual self, a control freak that wants to control everything in our family life. Well, that's fine. Since the screaming match, I have gone no contact with him and has put the dividend payment aside in a savings account.

I know for certain that John is the one lying to me because he accused Mike of stealing people's money when he go into business with friends, which is why only John is willing to do business with him in this joint venture. Afterall they are best friends before John betrayed mum. I asked him to give me names of people Mike has swindled but he is unable to. He gave me the name of a person, so I reached out to that guy who strongly denied that Mike has stolen his money.
Recently, I have been advised that John has taken Mike to court. I am not sure on what grounds, but he got the police to call him in for an interview. He even dragged Mike's wife and family to the station by getting the police to summon them. Then after about 10 months of no contact, he called me through my grandfather's phone to try get me to go back home to testify against Mike. He said that if I trust him, he will even guide me on what to say. This does not sit well with me, not only that this is wrong to lie to the police, I will also be getting Mike in trouble for doing what he can to protect John's family and John's future. He even persuaded my grandfather, who is more of a father to me than John ever has been, to pressure me to do this. Grandpa's view is that we must side with our family no matter what. Family? Which side of the family are you referring to? Do I side with John and get Mike in trouble and forgo any hope of savings and retirement fund for my mum and potentially him? Or do I side with Mike who has gone through a lot of trouble for doing John's job of protecting John's family?
My mind is a mess and I am at loss. There are nuclear options that I can consider, i.e., report to the police that John is living with a woman that is not his wife, I can leak the story to the rest of the family and extended family, I can ruin John's reputation if I have to. I will go nuclear and report his behaviour to his company, which could mean that he would lose his job.
Things are a lot worst and there are a lot more things that I could have said, but I am trying to focus on the most important bits while giving some context instead of writing a novel on reddit. Anyone has a family as messed up as this? What should I do?