Sorry this is a bit long.
My husband (36f)and I (38f) have entered an avoidant- anxious dynamic.
We got married in December of last year, 3 months after I moved into his place (previously I rented and he owns).
Issues started when I moved in. In that I couldn’t. He had told me I had carte Blanche, but the reality was that he would freak out at any thing I suggested. I ended up living out of boxes for weeks until eventually he told me he had unresolved trauma from his ex. He also became jealous (she cheated on him) and he started questioning my friendships and work relationships. He would shut down for days, freak out and leave the house. I would end up going to look for him and reassuring him, which is what he told me he needed at the time.
Our disagreements turned into big fights over time. Mainly because when I would try and talk to him, he would talk over me and or walk away. I felt dehumanized. During arguments he would also weaponize our relationship, saying it was over or insisting I wanted to leave him (I didn’t and told him as much). It was like a 2 week cycle with each argument taking about 3 days to resolve. He would say he can’t be himself around me because I would not accept him yelling his feelings at me but was more that ready to hold space for him if he approached me gently, which never happened. He started shirking responsibility.
Our agreement and something I was very open about is that my dogs (2 40lb) are my family, and if I was ever to move in with someone, it would be joint care, kinda like blending a family. He took a couple of days to think about it before deciding that he loved me and loved the girls and wanted to be part of that. He also very generously offered to support me financially as I left my job, and wanted me to focus on building my business instead of looking for another. I had been doing work freelance on the side til then and this would give me time to really dive into it. He knew full well it was seasonal and my contracts would start coming in May and June. I was so grateful and to ease any stress that might add, started doing everything around the house.
Over the winter I ended up getting very sick and having Covid three times in a row, he was great at looking after me, but at the end of it told me he no longer wanted the responsibility of either the financial side or the dogs. Other than a week where I physically couldn’t, I was still doing the majority of the care. He was walking them once a day.
I asked him to just honour the support for 3 more months and started looking for part time jobs as well as setting up my work for the season. I booked several contracts that would have put me on excellent track, they start in June. For the dogs, I explained it was still a deal breaker, and he agreed to 20 minutes 5 days a week as he felt it was taking away from his free time. He also told me he no longer wants to worry about meals and wants to cook at his rhythm, which for me would mean going hungry or cooking for us as he usually wouldn’t start cooking til 9pm. If I (very happily) made him dinner, and he had a stressful day. He would sometimes tell me he didn’t ask me to do that, if I dared say I was trying to cheer him up or make his time easier. I encouraged him to take time and whatever space he needed. Our fights got worse, meaner over time. He only agreed to stop talking over me in March, when I showed him an article that it was dehumanizing.
During our last fight, he demanded a divorce (again). The fight happened because after two weeks of being on honeymoon and being a warm, affectionate, caring partner, he suddenly went cold. He denied it when I said he was being distant and dismissed that it was disconcerting to me. It turned into a full blown fight when I ‘micromoved’ wrong and apparently that meant I didn’t want to me around him, so he unilaterally cancelled our evening plans, which had been specifically to catch up after 2 days of barely seeing one. It was an ugly fight.
When he said divorce though it really caught me off guard. He promised he would never do that again and that we would work through things using an 8 week couples course we were on week 5 of. They warned us fights might still happen but not to use separating as it was a trust breaker.
This time I left the house and slept on couches for two days before a friend offered me a cabin on their property. It’s not much, no heating but with two dogs on short notice it was a godsend. I used all the money that left which was going to go for my taxes to pay for it.
He has been yo-yoing about reconciliation after asking for it, citing dogs and cooking, as well as our fights being toxic. They are. Therapy would be essential. I’ve turned into the worse version of myself I’ve ever seen. I haven’t been allowed in our house, can’t take any of ‘our’ things even if he’s not using them and he’s upset I took the car, which I was using 99% of the time as we live in an area now where I don’t have access to the things I love, like hiking. I have no choice about the car, as the cabin is in the woods and I need it for work, he doesn’t.
The thing I can’t get over is him going back on his word. At this point he hasn’t covered any of my expenses, saying he would and ‘forgetting’ since December and I’m now 6k in debt and exhausted. I feel like this is more than just avoidant-anxious. The more time I spend on my own, waiting for him to figure things out, the less I want to be around him. I love him, I no longer respect him.
Advice welcome.

NSFW I 45F have been seeing 46M for a year. He currently views us as a bit more than exclusive FWB whereas I see us as a taking it slowly relationship given that we talk24/7 & do as much stuff out of bed as we do in bed. We have been exclusive since the beginning at his request and I believe he wants a proper, committed relationship but admits that he is scared.
We have always had a rather full on sex life. Nothing too out there but there’s definitely been some kink stuff and it’s been physically rather intense. Out of bed we have fun together. We go for long walks, strolls on the beach, talk for hours, car drives, motorbike trips, cuddle up watching tv etc. Always with lots of hand holding, affectionate touches and kisses. He’s even just joined the gym I go to and I’m looking at getting a PS5 so we can game together too. Financial restrictions mean we don’t dine out etc regularly but we will occasionally get a takeaway together.
He has emotional unavailability issues due to his narcissistic ex but has suddenly started asking if we can start doing things in bed to build his emotional connection to me and have more intimate sex rather than full on, naughty sex with me. I’m certain he’s asking for this because he wants to move the relationship into something more serious and needs to feel more intimately connected with me beyond lust. It’s like he wants to allow himself to love me properly and clearly what we do in bed together makes us different from what he does with his female friends who he doesn’t have sex with. I’m well aware that intimacy starts outside the bedroom, but I would say we already have a good foundation for that to build on & more loving physical intimacy rather than wild kinky sex will definitely help.
I was in a very abusive marriage for 14 years and my current partner is my first proper partner since my husband so I have kind of lost my way on how to achieve what he is asking for because I’m not sure it’s something I ever really had in my marriage. I really need ideas to help me with this beyond lots of eye contact, kissing and slow foreplay. I have massage oils and want to do things like give him a massage before sex. What else can I do to help grow the connection?
TL/DR partner of 12 months wants to build on “loving intimacy” in bed. I’d really appreciate ideas on how to achieve this beyond lots of eye contact and foreplay.

NSFW I 45F have been seeing 46M for a year. He currently views us as a bit more than exclusive FWB whereas I see us as a taking it slowly relationship given that we talk24/7 & do as much stuff out of bed as we do in bed. We have been exclusive since the beginning at his request and I believe he wants a proper, committed relationship but admits that he is scared.
We have always had a rather full on sex life. Nothing too out there but there’s definitely been some kink stuff and it’s been physically rather intense. Out of bed we have fun together. We go for long walks, strolls on the beach, talk for hours, car drives, motorbike trips, cuddle up watching tv etc. Always with lots of hand holding, affectionate touches and kisses. He’s even just joined the gym I go to and I’m looking at getting a PS5 so we can game together too. Financial restrictions mean we don’t dine out etc regularly but we will occasionally get a takeaway together.
He has emotional unavailability issues due to his narcissistic ex but has suddenly started asking if we can start doing things in bed to build his emotional connection to me and have more intimate sex rather than full on, naughty sex with me. I’m certain he’s asking for this because he wants to move the relationship into something more serious and needs to feel more intimately connected with me beyond lust. It’s like he wants to allow himself to love me properly and clearly what we do in bed together makes us different from what he does with his female friends who he doesn’t have sex with. I’m well aware that intimacy starts outside the bedroom, but I would say we already have a good foundation for that to build on & more loving physical intimacy rather than wild kinky sex will definitely help.
I was in a very abusive marriage for 14 years and my current partner is my first proper partner since my husband so I have kind of lost my way on how to achieve what he is asking for because I’m not sure it’s something I ever really had in my marriage. I really need ideas to help me with this beyond lots of eye contact, kissing and slow foreplay. I have massage oils and want to do things like give him a massage before sex. What else can I do to help grow the connection?
TL/DR partner of 12 months wants to build on “loving intimacy” in bed. I’d really appreciate ideas on how to achieve this beyond lots of eye contact and foreplay.

I'm 22-M from north India. I have been cheated on/ left/ or rather just things couldn't work for me in my first relationship. She left me for some well-doing guy when I was nineteen. No blame, we were Kids. I'm pursuing ACCA right now. I'm focused, clearing exams in one go.
I just feel like the dating world is not for me because I've not been the best-looking or most wealthy guy out there or maybe because my lifestyle doesn't allow me to meet many people. Even if I meet someone (I met a mutual friend), We don't' click easily. I'm more of an old-school guy inside, although I'm not a simp, I simply talk with honesty instead of saying things like, "You're a queen, please disrespect me".
Seeing the society we live in; most people expect that you'll become some sort of "Yes Man" for them.
For example, a girl told me that She wanted to explore people before telling me yes. Who wants to be a last resort plan? I walked away.
After that, with study hours around eight, working on my hobby of writing, taking care of my health, and some days, studying for 10-12 hours takes a chunk of my day. Even if not all days are like this, I'm not willing to give anyone the position where they can decide how I feel throughout my day.
This is different from not wanting to put effort because if you're my girlfriend, I'd like to take you on dates or talk to you about how you feel, but I'm not a guy to say "Please meri bandi ban jaa".
I don't have demands like "bandi ki hips itni chaudi honi chahiye or lips itne mote hone chahiye". I would rather go for a loyal girl, who can hold a conversation and have clear communication skills. Also, not a person to hop on the next big deal, I tend to commit and want to know my partner on a deeper level. I expect similar things from my partner. Since I'm not someone who is looking for a hot girl, I'm also someone who doesn't want to build a relationship based on money. Money comes from working hard, and developing skills etc., you can judge me if I'm disciplined at my work or not but I'm not someone who wants to be pursued for how good-looking, rich etc. I am, or you are. Same standards on both sides. This doesn't mean that I do not bring financial stability or anything of that sort. But there is a difference between dating for that job or car and dating the person. That's also true that We can't know at first sight what a person wants but let's say we can at least guess.
So, reflecting on my needs, what sort of person I am etc., I feel like I would rather focus on myself for a while. I don't want to waste time standing on the roadside and asking my female friends to set me up with someone for a short term.
I'm planning to focus on my academics, work, my passion for writing, and mental and physical health and I'd like to build connections with people, irrespective of their gender and without wanting to redeem the connection into some sort of fling. Just platonic, trying to know as many people as people in my surroundings and professional network If someday, I click with someone naturally, it's good otherwise, I don't feel like selling my soul just for a relationship.
My question is- "Am I on the correct Path? Am I missing something in life by focusing on other aspects of life and leaving dating, finding love etc.?"
I'd like to know your views about my plan and would appreciate any suggestions if provided. Would like to know your gender and age, (so that I know where it is coming from) with your response.
Thanks in Advance.

For context: I already have a few legitimate occurances due to car trouble , kidney stones and a vet emergency from about 6-8 months ago but now I’m really pushing it.
I work as a team lead/ upcoming DS at a big box store overnight. Currently I’m trying to build a better work background to get into Local LE ( call me a pig all you want 🤷🏻‍♀️). My next step from here after moving up will be working on a ambulance as an EMT until I get hired on as a recruit.
I’m one of the best performers and management likes me but my attendance hasn’t been the best due to legit past issues and now I’m gonna be on super thin ice possibly canned. I was late 2 minutes Tuesday (half a occurance because of traffic) and then overslept my alarm tonight so I was gonna be late again .
So I either had to call out late or call out entirely and use my sick time. Either way I get an occurance. I hope that since the lazy manager works tonight by himself he just excuses my call out in the app because it’s less paperwork.
So that’s about 7 abscenes in a year which is cause for real disciplinary action sometimes termination ( if following corporate SOP to the T)
I could’ve avoided all of this if I didn’t sleep through my 3 alarms or racked up other occurrences like an idiot but oh well
It’s impossible not to screw up even when you’re hyper focused I guess

Hey,
​
This is gonna be long-winded and probably incoherent, but I just need to get this off my chest and if you have any insight regarding why it's constantly happening to me I'd love to hear it.
I consider myself a pretty introverted guy, but I've generally had no issues talking with girls and getting dates, more so recently of course, since I've been growing more comfortable in my own skin. I'm definitely a romantic, I never understood the attitude of guys that treat girls like trash, that just doesn't compute in my head. If I love something, I'm going to take care of it to the best of my ability.
I think we have all had that experience of "the one that got away", well mine was no different. The girl I met when I started uni was special, she was drop dead gorgeous, completely my type, witty and cracked jokes like I would, we finished each other's sentences, we had the same ideas and ambitions. Everything was going great, I was on cloud nine and I never even thought about this like that, but this girl made me think that she's the one I'm gonna marry. We were celebrating new year's at a mutual friend's house and we hooked up, it was phenomenal. Literally 2 days later she ghosts me out of nowhere, I panic. I reach out to talk to her face to face to see what's going on. She obliged reluctantly and word for word said "I'm sorry it's not going to work, you are too good for me".
Now, I've had my heart broken a few times by this point, but this... This was devastating.
I went to a dark place in my own mind, stopped talking with everyone, started doing drugs and generally engaging in self-destructive behavior. It was really hard accepting the fact that my best was never enough for her, I blamed myself constantly, I cried dozens of times alone outside. Whenever a song came up on the radio that reminded me of her my whole mood changed, even if it was jolly prior. I generally am able to keep a cool and straight face when I'm around family as I never want to talk about my own problems, mostly because I know that if I do I will fucking meltdown so I steer clear, I never want them to feel sorry for me, but even they thought something weird was going on and kept asking me questions.
It took me a good 3 years to accept what happened and start trying to move on, as you can imagine my confidence was shattered for that whole time and my self-worth was at an all time low. I started dating again, but not to find love, I don't believe in that anymore, just for sex and to feel wanted. I would tell girls what they wanted to hear, hook up and bail. Hell, sometimes they only wanted sex too, that was optimal. If I didn't get intimate with a girl on the 2nd date I would just look for someone else, I never wanted to put in any effort into actually cultivating anything meaningful or fulfilling. I would always feel like shit when I would pump and dump, because deep down I know what I was doing and that it wasn't me, but I also craved the satisfaction. Looking back, I was definitely perpetuating my own trauma.
Now, I used mainly dating apps, sometimes just start texting people I knew. But a few weeks ago I was at the supermarket and just on my phone walking, when some girl just ran in front of me at speed and knocked me off balance for a moment, she just glanced back at me and I saw how pretty she was, it sent a shock down my body. She was hurrying to get some beer, which I respected and admired. When we were on our way out I approached her to talk to her, told her she caught my eye and asked for her number. She gave me the digits, but she was so flabbergasted it was really funny and cute. We went on a date the next day, she's amazing, we mesh so well together. She's smart and responsible, takes care of her parents same as I do, we found a lot in common. I was thrilled, I never approached anyone like this and the time I felt that I had to do it - it paid off in a big way. I was falling for her and she was for me.
We went on dates, we had fun, talked and walked a lot. I bring her lunch to work, flowers sometimes. She was celebrating a sister's birthday one evening and I had taken her from the place to her apartment, she said she wanted me to stay the night, so I did. It was glorious, we both had a great time.
After that she ghosted me, she doesn't text me first anymore. I have to show all the initiative now, whenever I try to set up dates she's busy. To be fair she is pretty busy, she has 2 jobs and she's one of those people like me that don't pull out their phone when hanging out with someone, just not that attached to technology which I really vibe with. She spends a lot of time with her family, she has sisters and cousins that are all the same age and they hang out in the evenings at her place or at her sister's place and I trust that she's not lying. I've met her cousins, they are all really sweet. But I just feel like she's lost interest in me, I keep trying to get something going but her response times are getting longer and longer.
Honestly I've never seen a switch flip so suddenly, it's like she's a different person now. We used to be so intimate, not only in a sexual way but she would sleep on my chest, hug me in her sleep, squeeze me and not let me go, now she barely gives me any attention. It feels like I'm a burden on her right now. She told me that she has always had trouble with relationships because she's so busy with work and it never worked due to this, but I also feel like she could make time for me if she wanted to, but just chooses not to. I feel like I'm about to get my heart annihilated again.
I don't want to lose her, she made me believe in love again. I truly love this girl and want to build my future with her. I keep fighting the urge to reach out to her and try to make it work, but I think that pulling back might be the best play, however painful it might be right now.
Why is it that always when something good happens to me it never lasts.. Always disappointment after disappointment. What is wrong with me?

I’ve always hated the smell of gun oil. It clings to everything it touches, soaking deep into the fibers of my clothes, the lining of my backpack, the coarse hair on the back of my hands. Yet here I am, kneeling on the cracked linoleum of our mudroom, a Remington .308 laid across my thighs, and the stench of gun oil sharp in my nostrils. The early morning light barely scratches at the edges of the blinds, dim and gray like the belly of a dead fish.
My dad Frank is in the kitchen, clattering around with the coffeepot and mumbling under his breath. Today we’re heading up to the woods of Northern Michigan, same as we did every year before Leah… before we lost her.
I can’t help but feel the old scars throbbing as I load bullets into the magazine. It’s been ten years since that hunting trip, the one that tore my family into before and after. Before, when Leah's laughter was a constant soundtrack to our lives; after, when every silence was filled with her absence.
We were just kids back then. I was ten, Leah was eight. It was supposed to be a typical hunting trip, one of those bonding experiences Dad was always talking about. But things went wrong. We got separated from Dad somehow. One minute we were following him, the next we were lost, the dense woods closing in around us.
Dad says when he found me, I was huddled under a fallen tree, my eyes wide, my body frozen. All I could mutter through chattering teeth was "Dogman."
It was only later, after the search parties had combed through every thicket and hollow, that they found her. What remained of Leah was barely recognizable, the evidence of a brutal mauling undeniable. The authorities concluded it was likely a bear attack, but Dad... he never accepted that explanation. He had seen the tracks, too large and oddly shaped for any bear.
As I load another round, the memory flashes, unbidden and unwelcome. Large, hairy clawed hands reaching out towards us, impossibly big, grotesque in their form. Yet, the rest of the creature eludes me, a shadow just beyond the edge of my recall, leaving me with nothing but fragmented terrors and Leah’s haunting, echoing screams. My mind blocked most of it out, a self-defense mechanism, I guess.
For years after that day, sleep was a battleground. I'd wake up in strange places—kitchen floor, backyard, even at the edge of the nearby creek. My therapist said it was my mind's way of trying to resolve the unresolved, to wander back through the woods searching for Leah. But all I found in those sleepless nights was a deeper sense of loss.
It took time, a lot of therapy, and patience I didn't know I had, but the sleepwalking did eventually stop. I guess I started to find some semblance of peace.
I have mostly moved on with my life. The fragmentary memories of that day are still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, but they don’t dominate my thoughts like they used to. I just finished my sophomore year at Michigan State, majoring in Environmental Science.
As for Dad, the loss of Leah broke him. He became a shell of himself. It destroyed his marriage with Mom. He blamed himself for letting us out of his sight, for not protecting Leah. His life took on a single, consuming focus: finding the creature that killed her. He read every book, every article on cryptids and unexplained phenomena. He mapped sightings, connected dots across blurry photos and shaky testimonies of the Dogman.
But as the tenth anniversary of Leah’s death approaches, Dad's obsession has grown more intense. He’s started staying up late, poring over his maps and notes, muttering to himself about patterns and cycles. He’s convinced that the dogman reappears every ten years, and this is our window of opportunity to finally hunt it down.
I’m not nearly as convinced. The whole dogman thing seems like a coping mechanism, a way for Dad to channel his guilt and grief into something tangible, something he can fight against. But I decided to tag along on this trip, partly to keep an eye on him, partly because a small part of me hopes that maybe, just maybe, we’ll find some kind of closure out there in the woods.
I finish loading the rifle and set it aside, standing up to stretch my legs. I wipe my greasy hands on an old rag, trying to get rid of the smell. The early morning light is starting to seep into the room, casting long shadows across the floor.
Dad comes out of the kitchen with two thermoses of coffee in hand. His eyes are bleary and tired.
“You ready, Ryan?” he asks, handing me a thermos, his voice rough from too many sleepless nights.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
We load our gear into the truck, the weight of our supplies and weapons a physical reminder of the burden we carry. The drive from Lansing across the Lower Peninsula is long and quiet, the silence between us filled with unspoken memories and unresolved grief.
—
The drive north is a blur of highway lines and the dull hum of the engine. I drift off, the landscape outside blending into a haze. In my sleep, fragments of that day with Leah replay like scattered pieces of a puzzle. I see her smile, the way she tugged at my sleeve, eager to explore. The sunlight filters through the trees in sharp, jagged streaks.
Then, the memory shifts—darker, disjointed. Leah's voice echoes, a playful laugh turning into a scream that pierces the air. The crunch of leaves underfoot as something heavy moves through the underbrush. I see a shadow, large and looming, not quite fitting the shapes of any creature I know.
Then, something darker creeps into the dream, something I’ve never allowed myself to remember clearly.
Before I can see what it is I wake up with a start as the truck jerks slightly on a rough patch of road. Dad glances over. "Bad dream?" he asks. I nod, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like the cold.
"Yeah, just... thinking about Leah," I manage to say.
As we drive, Dad attempts to bridge the silence with small talk. He asks about my finals, my plans for the summer, anything to keep the conversation going. His voice carries a forced cheerfulness, but it’s clear his heart isn’t in it. I respond when necessary, my answers brief, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
The landscape changes as we head further north, from flat expanses to rolling hills dotted with dense patches of forest. It's beautiful country, the kind that reminds you how vast and wild Michigan can be, but today it just feels oppressive, like it’s closing in on us.
—
We finally arrive at the cabin, nestled deep in the woods, its weathered wood blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees. The place hasn't changed much since the last time I was here—a relic from another time, filled with the echoes of our past. I can still see Leah running around the porch, her laughter ringing out into the forest.
Dad parks the truck, and we step out into the crisp air. The smell of pine and damp earth fills my nostrils. We start unloading our gear, the tension between us palpable.
“Let’s get this inside,” Dad says, his voice gruff as he hefts a duffel bag onto his shoulder.
I nod, grabbing my own bag and following him to the cabin. Inside, it’s a mix of old and new—the same rustic furniture, but with new hunting gear and maps strewn across the table. Dad’s obsession is evident in every corner of the room, a constant reminder of why we’re here.
As we unpack, we exchange strained attempts at normalcy. He talks about the latest cryptid sightings he’s read about, his eyes lighting up with a fervor that both worries and saddens me.
“Did you hear about the sighting up near Alpena?” he asks, laying out his maps on the table.
“Yeah, you mentioned it,” I reply, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Do you really think there’s something to it?”
Dad’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of doubt. But it’s quickly replaced by grim determination. “I have to believe it, Ryan. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
We finish unpacking, the silence between us growing heavier with each passing minute. I step outside to clear my head, the cool air a welcome relief. The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the clearing. I can’t shake the feeling of unease.
"You can take the upstairs room," Dad mutters. His voice is strained, trying to sound normal, but it's clear the weight of the past is heavy on him. I nod, hauling my backpack up the creaking stairs to the small bedroom that I used to share with Leah. The room feels smaller now, or maybe I've just grown too much since those innocent days.
I unpack silently, setting my things aside. The bed is stiff and cold under my touch. As I settle in, I can't help but glance at the corner where Leah and I would huddle together, whispering secrets and making plans for adventures that would never happen. I push the thoughts away, focusing on the practicalities of unpacking.
After settling in, I go back downstairs to find Dad loading up a backpack with supplies for our hunt. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, his hands moving with practiced precision. I know this routine; it's one he's perfected over countless solo trips since that fateful day.
"We'll head out early," he says, not looking up from his task. "Gotta make the most of the daylight."
I nod, though unease curls in my stomach. I'm not just worried about what we might find—or not find—out there. I'm worried about him. Each year, the obsession seems to carve him out a bit more, leaving less of the Dad I knew.
—
The morning air is sharp with the scent of pine and wet earth as Dad and I head into the deeper parts of the forest. The terrain is rugged, familiar in its untamed beauty, but there’s a tension between us that makes the landscape feel alien. Dad moves with a purposeful stride, his eyes scanning the woods around us. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush seems to draw his attention. He’s on edge, and it puts me on edge too.
As we walk, my mind drifts back to that day ten years ago. I can almost hear Leah’s voice echoing through the trees, her high-pitched call as she darted ahead, "Catch me, Ryan!" I remember how the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Those memories are so vivid, so tangible, it feels like I could just turn a corner and see her there, waiting for us.
Dad suddenly stops and kneels, examining the ground. He points out a set of tracks that are too large for a deer, with an unusual gait pattern. "It’s been here, Ry. I’m telling you, it’s close," he whispers, a mixture of excitement and something darker in his voice. I nod, though I’m not sure what to believe. Part of me wants to dismiss it all as grief-fueled obsession, but another part, the part that heard Leah's scream and saw something monstrous in the woods that day, isn’t so sure.
As we continue, Dad's comments become increasingly cryptic. "You know, they say the dogman moves in cycles, drawn to certain places, certain times. Like it’s tied to the land itself," he muses, more to himself than to me. His fixation on the creature has always been intense, but now it borders on mania.
We set up a makeshift blind near a clearing where Dad insists the creature will pass. Hours drag by with little to see but the occasional bird or distant deer.
The sun rises higher in the sky, casting long, slender shadows through the dense canopy. I shift uncomfortably in my spot, the forest floor hard and unyielding beneath me. My eyes dart between the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything, to break the monotony. Dad, on the other hand, remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the treeline as if he can will the dogman into existence by sheer force of will.
A bird chirps nearby, startling me. I sigh and adjust my grip on the rifle. I glance over at Dad.
“Anything?” I ask, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.
“Not yet,” he replies, his voice tight. “But it’s out there. I know it.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure I believe him. The forest seems too quiet, too still. Maybe we’re chasing ghosts.
As the sun begins its descent, the forest is bathed in a warm, golden light. The air cools, and a breeze rustles the leaves. I shiver, more from anticipation than the cold. The long hours of sitting and waiting are starting to wear on me.
“Let’s call it a day for now,” Dad says finally, his voice heavy with disappointment. “We’ll head back to the cabin, get some rest, and try again tomorrow.”
I stand and stretch, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. We pack up our gear in silence and start the trek back to the cabin. The walk is long and quiet, the only sounds are the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of birds settling in for the night.
—
Dinner is a quiet affair, both of us lost in our thoughts. I try to make small talk, asking Dad about his plans for tomorrow, but it feels forced. We clean up in silence.
After dinner, I retreat to the small bedroom. The fatigue from the day's hike has settled into my bones, but sleep still feels like a distant hope. I lie down, staring at the ceiling, the room cloaked in darkness save for the sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Downstairs, I hear the faint sound of Dad moving around, likely unable to sleep himself.
I drift into sleep, but it's not restful. My dreams pull me back to that fateful day in the woods. Leah's voice is clear and vibrant, her laughter echoing through the trees. She looks just as she did then—bright-eyed and full of life, her blonde hair catching the sunlight as she runs ahead of me.
"Come on, Ry! You can't catch me!" she taunts, her voice playful and teasing.
I chase after her, but the scene shifts abruptly. The sky darkens, the woods around us growing dense and foreboding. Leah's laughter fades, replaced by a chilling silence. I see her ahead, standing still, her back to me.
"Leah?" I call out, my voice trembling. She turns slowly, her eyes wide and filled with fear. "Ryan, you have to remember," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "It wasn't what you think. You need to know the truth."
Leah’s words hang in the air, cryptic and unsettling. Before I can respond, she turns and starts running again, her figure becoming a blur among the trees. Panic rises in my chest as I sprint after her, my feet pounding against the forest floor.
“Leah, wait!” I shout, desperation lacing my voice. The forest around me seems to close in, the trees towering and twisted, shadows dancing menacingly in the dim light. I push forward, trying to keep her in sight, but she’s too fast, slipping away like a wisp of smoke.
Suddenly, there’s a rustle, a flash of movement in the corner of my vision. Leah screams, a sound that pierces through the heavy silence. It happens too quickly—I can’t see what it is, only a dark blur that snatches her up.
“Leah!” I scream, my voice breaking. I stumble, falling to my knees as the forest spins around me. My heart races, and the terror is so real, so visceral, that it pulls me back to that awful day, the one that changed everything.
I jolt awake, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I sit up, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead as I try to steady my breathing. The room is still dark, the shadows cast by the moonlight seem to flicker and dance on the walls. My heart is still racing from the nightmare, the echo of Leah's scream lingering in my ears.
As I struggle to calm down, the floorboards outside my room creak. The door opens slowly, and I see the silhouette of my dad in the doorway, a Bowie knife in his hand, his posture tense.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing?” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“Shh,” he hisses, holding up a hand to silence me. “I heard something. Something moving around in the cabin. Stay quiet.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. I glance at the clock on the nightstand—it’s just past three in the morning. The cabin is silent, the kind of deep, oppressive silence that makes every small sound seem louder. I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary, but Dad’s expression is deadly serious.
He motions for me to get up, and I do, moving as quietly as I can. My heart is racing, a mix of lingering fear from the dream and the sudden, sharp anxiety of the present moment. Dad leads the way, stepping cautiously out of the bedroom and into the hallway, the knife held ready in front of him.
We move through the cabin, checking each room in turn. The living room is empty, the furniture casting long shadows in the dim moonlight. The kitchen is just as we left it, the plates from dinner still drying on the counter. Everything seems normal, untouched.
We finish our sweep of the cabin without finding anything amiss. The silence is heavy, punctuated only by our soft footfalls. I can see the tension in Dad’s frame, his grip on the knife unwavering. After checking the last room, we pause in the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with unspoken questions.
“There’s nothing here,” I say, my voice low. “Are you sure you heard something?”
He looks at me, his eyes searching for something in my face. “I heard growling. Deep and close. It was right outside the window.”
“Maybe it was just an animal outside, a raccoon or something?” I suggest, although the certainty in his voice makes me doubt my own reassurance.
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was different,” he insists, his voice tense.
I nod, not wanting to argue, but the seeds of worry are planted deep.
The look in his eyes sends a chill down my spine. It’s not just fear—it’s desperation. The kind of desperation that comes from years of chasing shadows and finding nothing. I can see the toll this hunt has taken on him, the way it’s worn him down, turned him into a man I barely recognize.
We head back to our rooms. As I lie down, my mind races with thoughts of my dad. I can’t help but wonder if he’s losing it, if the years of grief and guilt have finally pushed him over the edge.
Dad wasn’t always like this. Before Leah’s death, he was the kind of father who took us fishing, helped with homework, and told terrible jokes that made us groan and laugh at the same time. He was solid, dependable. But losing Leah changed him. The guilt twisted him into someone I barely recognize, someone driven by a need for answers, for closure, that may never come.
I try to sleep, but my thoughts keep me awake. I can hear Dad moving around downstairs, probably pacing or double-checking the locks. His paranoia has become a constant presence, and I don’t know how to help him. I don’t even know if I can help him.
—
The next morning, the sunlight filters weakly through the cabin windows, casting a pale light that does little to lift the heavy mood. I drag myself out of bed, feeling the exhaustion of another restless night. Dad is already up, hunched over his maps at the kitchen table, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“Morning,” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Did you sleep at all?”
He shakes his head, not looking up from his notes. “Not much. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I heard last night.”
I sip my coffee, trying to shake off the remnants of my nightmare. “Maybe it was just an animal, Dad. We’re deep in the woods, after all.”
He finally looks up, his eyes intense. “Ryan, I know what I heard. It wasn’t just an animal. It was something else.”
I sigh, not wanting to argue. “Okay, fine, Dad. What’s the plan for today?”
“We’re going back out. I found some tracks yesterday, and I want to follow them. See where they lead.”
I nod, feeling a mix of apprehension and resignation. I can see how much this means to him, how desperate he is for any kind of lead. “Alright. Let’s get packed and head out.”
We spend the morning preparing, loading up our gear and double-checking our supplies. Dad is meticulous, going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. I try to match his focus, but my mind keeps drifting back to Leah and the dream I had. Her words echo in my head, cryptic and unsettling: “You need to know the truth.”
We set off into the woods, the air crisp and cool. The forest is alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, but it all feels distant, like background noise to the tension between us. Dad leads the way, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of the tracks he found yesterday.
As we walk, I can’t help but notice how erratically he’s acting. He mutters to himself, his eyes darting around as if expecting something to jump out at us. His grip on his rifle is tight, his knuckles white.
“Dad, are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He glances at me, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine. Just focused.”
He stops frequently to examine the ground or the bark of trees, pointing out marks and signs that seem meaningless to me.
“Look at this,” he says, crouching down to examine a broken branch. “See how it’s snapped? That’s not a deer or a bear. That’s something bigger. Stronger.”
I crouch next to Dad, squinting at the broken branch. To me, it just looks like a regular broken branch, the kind you see all over the forest. "I don't know, Dad. It just looks like a branch to me," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Dad's eyes flicker with frustration. "You're not looking close enough. It's the way it's snapped—too clean, too deliberate. Something did this."
I nod, not wanting to argue. "Okay, sure. But even if you're right, it could be anything. A storm, another hunter..."
His expression hardens. "I know what I'm looking for. This is different."
I sigh, feeling the weight of the past and the tension between us pressing down on me. "Dad, I had a dream last night. About Leah." The words hang in the air between us, heavy and fraught with unspoken emotions.
Dad's eyes widen, and he straightens up, his entire demeanor shifting. "What kind of dream? What did you see?" His voice is urgent, almost desperate.
"It was... strange. We were in the woods, like we are now, but everything felt different. Leah was there, running ahead of me, laughing. Then she stopped and told me I needed to know the truth, that it wasn't what I thought."
Dad grabs my shoulders, his grip tight. "What else did she say? Did she tell you anything specific? Anything about the creature?"
I shake my head, feeling a chill run down my spine. "No, that was it. She just said I needed to know the truth, and then she was gone."
Dad’s grip on my shoulders tightens, and his eyes bore into mine with a mixture of desperation and hope. “Ryan, you have to try to remember. Think hard. What did the creature look like? Did you see anything else?”
I pull back slightly, uneasy with his intensity. “Dad, I told you. I don’t remember. It was just a dream. A nightmare, really. My mind’s probably just mixing things up.”
He lets go of me and runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and lost. “Dreams can be important. They can hold memories we’ve buried deep. Please, try to remember. This could be a sign, a clue.”
I rub my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried for years to piece together what happened that day. But it’s all just fragments, like pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit. The dream… it felt real, but I don’t think it’s telling me anything new.”
Dad’s face falls, and he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. He turns away, staring into the forest as if it holds all the answers.
—
As we make our way back to the cabin, the sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the trees. The air grows colder, and I shiver, pulling my jacket tighter around me. Dad is silent, lost in his thoughts, his face drawn and haggard.
Back at the cabin, we unload our gear once again in silence. Dad disappears into his room, muttering something about going over his notes. I decide to explore the cabin, hoping to find something that might help me understand what’s going on with him.
In the attic, I find a box of old family photos and documents. As I sift through the contents, I come across a worn journal with Dad’s handwriting on the cover. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open it, flipping through the pages.
The journal is filled with notes and sketches, detailing his obsession with the dogman. But there’s something else—entries that talk about Leah, about that day in the woods. His handwriting becomes more erratic, the words harder to read. One entry stands out, dated just a few days after Leah’s death:
“June 15, 2013 – It was supposed to be a normal trip. Keep them close, Frank, I kept telling myself. But I failed. Leah is gone, and it’s my fault. I heard her scream, saw the shadows. I tried to get to her, but… the thing, it was there. Too fast. Too strong. My hands… blood everywhere. No one will believe me. I can’t even believe myself. I have to find it. I have to protect Ryan. I have to make it right. God, what have I done?”
Before I can read further, the attic door creaks open, and Dad’s voice slices through the stillness.
“What are you doing up here?” His tone is sharp, almost panicked.
I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide with something between anger and fear. I clutch the journal to my chest, my mind racing. “I found this… I was just trying to understand…”
In an instant, he crosses the room and snatches the journal from my hands. His grip is tight, his knuckles white. “You had no right,” he growls, his voice trembling.
“Dad, I just wanted to know the truth!” I shout, frustration boiling over. “What really happened to Leah.”
His eyes flash with a mix of rage and anguish, and before I can react, he slaps me across the face. The force of it knocks me off balance, and I stumble backward, my cheek stinging.
For a moment, there’s a stunned silence. We both stand there, breathing hard, the air thick with tension.
“I’m sorry,” Dad says finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to… I just…” He trails off, clutching the journal to his chest like a lifeline.
I touch my cheek, feeling the heat from the slap, and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Dad, what aren’t you telling me? What really happened that day?”
“Stay out of it, Ryan,” Dad growls, his eyes dark with anger. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
He turns and storms out of the attic. I’m left standing there, my cheek throbbing, my mind racing. What the fuck is going on? What really happened to Leah? And what is Dad so afraid of?
—
That night, I sleep with my rifle within arm's reach, more afraid of my dad than any dogman. The slap still burns on my cheek, and the look in his eyes—rage, fear, something darker—haunts me. I lie awake, listening to the creaks and groans of the old cabin, every sound amplified in the stillness. Eventually, exhaustion pulls me under, and I fall into a restless sleep.
The dream returns, vivid and unsettling. I'm back in the woods, chasing after Leah. Her laughter echoes through the trees, a haunting reminder of happier times. This time, though, I push myself harder, refusing to let her slip away.
"Ryan, catch me!" she calls, her voice playful.
"I'm coming, Leah!" I shout, my legs pumping, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The forest around us is a twisted, shadowy maze, the trees seeming to close in on us. Leah's figure becomes clearer, her blonde hair catching the dim light filtering through the canopy. She stops suddenly, turning to face me, her eyes wide with fear.
"Leah, what is it?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"Look behind you," she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I turn slowly, dread creeping up my spine. In the shadows, I see a figure, its form indistinct and shifting. It’s not quite animal, not quite human—something in between. The sight of it sends a jolt of terror through me, and I wake up with a start, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I’m not in my bed. The ground beneath me is cold and hard, the smell of damp earth filling my nostrils. Panic rises as I realize I’ve sleepwalked into the woods. I scramble to my feet, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. The moon casts a pale glow over the surroundings, revealing what looks like a long-abandoned animal lair.
The walls are covered in giant claw marks, deep gouges in the wood and earth. The air is heavy with the scent of decay, and a chill runs through me. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
Carefully, I start to move, my eyes scanning the ground, desperate for a familiar landmark. That's when I see them—faded scraps of fabric caught on the jagged edges of the underbrush. My steps falter, a sense of dread washing over me as I bend down to examine them. The fabric is torn, weathered by time and the elements, but unmistakably familiar. It's part of Leah's jacket—the bright pink one she wore on the day she disappeared.
As I strain to make sense of it all, a rustling sound behind me snaps my focus. My heart leaps into my throat. I spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for the rifle I don't have—because, of course, I didn't bring it in my unconscious state.
The shadowy figure that emerges from the trees is unsettlingly familiar, mirroring the menacing forms of my nightmares. But as it steps into the moonlight, I recognize the worn jacket, the weary posture. It's Dad.
"Ryan!" he calls out, his voice a mix of relief and stern concern. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What the hell are you doing out here?"
I exhale slowly, the terror ebbing away as reality sets back in. "I—I don't know, Dad. I must've sleepwalked again." My voice is shaky, my earlier dream still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.
Dad stares at me in disbelief. "You haven't sleepwalked since you were a kid, Ry. This... this isn't just a coincidence." His eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings—the eerie, claw-marked den, the unsettling quiet of the woods. "How did you even find this place?"
I shake my head, struggling to find an answer. "I don't know, Dad. I just... I woke up here." The uncertainty in my voice does nothing to ease the tension.
His eyes lock onto the tattered remains of Leah's jacket in my hands, and something inside him snaps. The color drains from his face as he stumbles a few steps backward. "This... this is where it happened," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. “This is where we found Leah."
“I thought you said you don’t remember anything from that night,” he says accusingly.
"I swear, Dad, I don't know anything about this place," I insist, my own heart pounding.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’ve been hiding this from me.” His voice is frantic. “You... last night, the growling, it was you.” His voice rises, tinged with hysteria.
I step back, my pulse racing, feeling the chill of the night and the weight of his accusation. "Dad, I don't know what you're talking ab—”
"No!" he interrupts, his voice breaking as he points a trembling finger at me. "You knew, you always knew. It was you, Ryan. All these years, the evidence was right there, but I refused to see it. You were the dogman. You killed Leah!"
His words hit me like a physical blow, absurd and horrifying in their implications. "Dad, you're not making any sense. You're talking crazy! I was just a little kid! How could I–" I protest, my voice shaky.
He steps closer, his presence looming over me, the outline of his figure distorted by the shadows of the trees. "Think about it! It all makes sense now. You led us here, to this place, because you remember. Because you did it."
"Dad, stop it!" I shout, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're scaring me. You need help, professional help. This isn't you."
But he's beyond reason, his eyes wild with a haunted grief. "I have to end this," he mutters, more to himself than to me, his hand tightening around his rifle.
His finger hovers dangerously over the trigger of his rifle. My instincts kick in, and I know I have to act fast.
I lunge toward him, trying to knock the weapon away, but he's quicker than I expected. We struggle, our breaths heavy in the cold night air, the sounds of our scuffle the only noise in the otherwise silent woods. His strength surprises me, fueled by his frantic emotions. He shoves me back, and I stumble over a root, my balance lost for a crucial second. That's all he needs. He raises his rifle, his intentions clear in his wild, pained eyes.
I dive to the ground just as the shot rings out, a deafening blast that echoes ominously through the trees. The bullet whizzes past, narrowly missing me, embedding itself in the bark of an old pine. I scramble to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears, and I start running. The underbrush claws at my clothes and skin, but I push through, driven by a primal urge to survive.
"Dad, stop! It's me, Ryan!" I shout back as I dodge between the trees. Another shot breaks the silence, closer this time, sending splinters of wood flying from a nearby tree trunk. It's surreal, being hunted by my own father, a man tormented by grief and lost in his delusions.
I don't stop to look back. I can hear him crashing through the forest behind me, his heavy breaths and muttered curses carried on the wind. The terrain is rough, and I'm fueled by adrenaline, but exhaustion is setting in. I need a plan.
Ahead, I see a rocky outcrop and make a split-second decision to head for it. It offers a chance to hide, to catch my breath and maybe reason with him if he catches up. As I reach the rocks, I slip behind the largest one, my body pressed tight against the cold, damp surface. I hear his footsteps approaching, slow and cautious now.
As I press against the rock, trying to calm my racing heart, I can hear Dad's footsteps drawing closer, each step crunching ominously on the forest floor. He's methodical, deliberate, like a hunter stalking his prey.
“Come out, Ryan!” Dad’s voice is ragged, filled with a blend of fury and pain.
My heart pounds against my chest, the cold sweat on my back making me shiver against the rough surface of the rock. I know I can't just sit here; it's only a matter of time before he finds me.
Taking a deep breath, I peek around the edge of the rock, trying to gauge his position. I see him, rifle raised, scanning the area slowly. This might be my only chance to end this madness without further violence. I need to disarm him, to talk some sense into him if I can.
As quietly as I can, I move out from behind the rock, my steps careful to avoid any twigs or leaves that might betray my position. I'm almost upon him when a branch snaps under my foot—a sound so trivial yet so alarmingly loud in the quiet of the woods.
Dad whirls around, looking completely unhinged. "Ryan!" he exclaims, his rifle swinging in my direction. Panic overtakes me, and I lunge forward, my hands reaching for the gun.
We struggle, the rifle between us, our breaths heavy and erratic. "Dad, please, stop!" I plead, trying to wrestle the gun away. But he's strong, stronger than I expected.
In the chaos, the rifle goes off. The sound is deafening, a sharp echo that seems to reverberate off every tree around us. Pain explodes in my abdomen, sharp and burning, like nothing I've ever felt before. I stagger back, my hands instinctively going to the wound. The warmth of my own blood coats my fingers, stark and terrifying.
Dad drops the rifle, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh my God! What have I done?" he gasps, rushing to my side as I collapse onto the forest floor.
As the pain sears through me, a strange, overpowering energy surges within. It's wild, primal, unlike anything I've ever experienced. Looking down in horror, my hands are no longer hands but large, hairy, clawed appendages. The transformation is rapid, consuming—my vision blurs, senses heighten, and a raw, guttural growl builds in my throat.
In that moment, a flood of understanding washes over me, mingling with the horror of realization. These are the hands of the creature from my nightmares, the creature whose face I can never fully recall because, as I now understand, it is me.
What happens next feels detached, as if I'm no longer in control of my own actions, watching from a distance as my body moves on its own. I turn towards my dad, his face a mask of terror. He stumbles back, his eyes wide with the dawning realization of what his son has become.
The forest around us seems to fall silent, holding its breath as the nightmarish scene unfolds. I can hear my own growls, guttural and deep, filling the air with a sound that's both foreign and intimately familiar. The pain in my abdomen fuels a dark, violent urge, an urge that's too strong to resist.
With a ferocity that feels both alien and intrinsic, I move towards him. My dad, paralyzed by fear and shock, doesn't run. Maybe he can't. Maybe he doesn't want to.
The encounter was brutal and swift, a blur of motion and violence. My dad barely puts up a struggle, as though resigned to his fate.
Not that there is anything he can do. The creature that I’ve become is too powerful, too consumed by the wild instincts surging through me. I tear him apart, limb from bloody limb, my hands—no, my claws—rending through fabric and flesh with disgusting ease.
The sound of my dad’s screams, of tearing fabric and flesh is drowned out by the animalistic growls that echo through the trees.
When it’s all over, the red mist that had clouded my vision begins to fade, and the fierce, uncontrollable rage that drove my actions subsides. I'm left standing, my breaths heavy and erratic, in the eerie stillness of the forest. The transformation reverses as quickly as it came on, and I find myself back in my human form. My clothes are ripped to shreds, hanging off my frame in tattered remnants. At my feet lies what’s left of my dad, his body torn and unrecognizable.
I glance down at my abdomen, expecting agony, but instead find my wound miraculously healed. No sign of the gunshot remains, just a faint scar where I expected a bloody mess.
Shock sets in, a numbing disbelief mixed with a gut-wrenching realization of what I've become and what I've done. My hands, now human again, tremble as I look at them, half-expecting to see the claws that had so effortlessly ripped through flesh and bone. But there's only blood, my father's blood against my skin.
I stand there for what feels like an eternity, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.
Eventually, the shock wears thin, and a cold practicality takes hold. I need to get out of here. I need to cover my tracks, to disappear. Because who would believe this? Who would understand that I didn't choose this, that I'm not a monster by choice?
With trembling hands, I do what’s necessary. I bury my dad in a shallow grave, the physical act of digging strangely grounding. I cover him with leaves and branches, a pitiful attempt to hide the brutality of his end. I take a moment, whispering apologies into the wind, knowing full well that nothing I say can change what happened.
I leave the forest behind, my mind a whirl of dark thoughts. As I walk, the first hints of dawn brush against the horizon, the sky bleeding a soft pink. It’s hauntingly beautiful.

Hello RP enthusiasts!
I am looking for a single player to join a fun, friendly RP-focused group playing a relatively new 5e homebrew campaign using DDB/Roll20, and voice chat via Discord, every other Wednesday evening at 6-9:30pm Central (7-10:30 Eastern).
As I mentioned, the group is primarily focused on roleplaying, so anyone looking for a combat-focused game should look elsewhere. That said, the campaign is set in a dark, challenging, high-fantasy world, with plenty of monsters and adversaries allowing for a reasonable amount of combat, as well.
The campaign started at level one; but thanks to one of our players having a change in employment, their impending schedule conflicts mean this Wednesday will be their final session in this game. Thus, there is an opening available for what will likely be a level 3 character to join the other three (a rogue, barbarian, and divine soul sorcerer) in a couple of weeks, which should give us plenty of time to work on your character and backstory, and craft an appropriate entry for your character into the party/story. On the OOC side, everyone is very friendly, so it should not take long for any new player to comfortably feel like a welcome part of the group.
Ages for the four of us range from lower and mid twenties to over forty, and all relate to each other very well. So, while I'd like to keep the minimum age in the 20's, beyond that: playstyle, mindset, and personality are more important than hard numbers.
What's the game like?
This is a game of collaborative storytelling. Barring the obvious (no obscene or meme characters, etc), my primary rule for character creation is that you must make a character who will want to work with the party and engage with the story, and with whom the party will want to engage. Come up with an idea for a backstory, and I will gladly work on it with you, and incorporate elements into the campaign. And just because your character enters play, that does not mean backstory development needs to stop. I will gladly continue to incorporate your character into the world, and vice-versa, so long as you are an engaged part of the process, and positively contributing to the story.
I also try to give my players engaging descriptions, and interactive NPC's (though no DMPC's) with distinct voices and personalities, and to augment scenes with engaging visuals. A few of the visuals I have created for the game can be seen on the application page, at: https://forms.gle/LJ9JHQqkCAcjkfY58
It is my hope that the descriptions and the visuals will help you feel immersed in the world, and help you enjoy roleplaying your character. Not everyone at our table is an actor, and any effort you make to roleplay your character is appreciated. The group is friendly and supportive, and fosters an environment where everyone can comfortably push their own boundaries (trying new voices, or whatever), should they choose, without fear of judgment or mockery. We do have fun, joke around and break character, but never at anyone else's expense, and not to the point of derailing the game.
What about the people?
I have a lot of experience with gaming, in various systems, both as player and storytelleDM, and endeavor to keep things fun and fair. I am also friendly and laid back, and a huge fan of open and honest communication, so I am always happy to listen to any thoughts, concerns, or ideas you may have.
The group is LGBTQ+ friendly, and welcomes everyone. Racism, sexism, homophobia, or other such things have never been an issue, and would not be tolerated. That said, this group is neither a hugbox nor a meme group, neither ultra-sensitive nor super-meme-centric. We are a friendly and easy-going group of gamers who enjoy role-play and realism/verisimilitude in our games. We are also very supportive of each other, in and out of game, and are comfortable with the idea that stereotypes and conflict do exist in game. So, if you get up in arms about in-game "racism" (kobolds and drow being typically evil, and treated as such, and/or the possibility of other inherent conflict based on race/background); if you dislike NPCs reacting appropriately to your PC's behavior; or if you can't stand the possibility of any other in-game conflict, this is not the game for you. If you are a nice, respectful, decent human being who is interested in collaborative storytelling, in a roleplay-centric game, with a decent bit of combat mixed in, then you should fit right in!
You might say we are semi-serious gamers. We might hang out and chat before and/or after game, but game time is for gaming. We do crack jokes and have fun, but generally keep things moving and focused on the game at hand. If this sounds like your style, then please apply via the link! https://forms.gle/LJ9JHQqkCAcjkfY58
So, what's the campaign about?
Admittedly, I have long been partial to "classic," Tolkien-esque D&D, and the worlds portrayed in the Dragonlance novels and Salvatore books. Dragonborns, tieflings, and the exotic races were never really my cup of tea, for PC's. But, I also tend to be open-minded about most things. So, when the friends with whom I have been playing 5e online for the past couple of years asked me to run a game, I decided to challenge my previous notions. Having watched certain characters done well in streamed games encouraged me to scrap some of my previous boundaries, and create a world which has become largely dominated by the "animal" races.
When the "awakened" first began to appear, during a time now known as The Great Awakening, they were typically treated as pets, as slaves, or as curiosities at best, especially by humans. Over time, as they grew in numbers, eventually they turned the tables on their oppressors, and hunted/drove much of humanity into remote areas. Elves and dwarves largely withdrew from the conflicts, though they occasionally provided shelter to refugees, either directly, or by offering some measure of protection to communities which sprang up near their own.
Now, with the continent-wide conflicts having largely subsided, much of the known world is currently run by the awakened races, who have themselves begun to segregate into various communities. And, while many humans were pushed to the outskirts of civilization, mostly existing in remote sanctuary communities, those humans currently trying to survive in the more populated areas are treated like second-class citizens, at best.
The current game does not take place in those areas, however! I am still building that world out, tailoring a larger campaign to the characters and ideas my players have given me. The campaign I am currently running takes place in a remote part of that same world, where The Great Awakening -- and the effects it has had on much of the known world -- is little more than rumor.
The Othean Peninsula is an icy expanse, isolated both physically and culturally from the rest of the world. This is an area of the world still largely dominated by humans, and the two peoples who populate the area -- a nordic tribal culture, and a more "civilized" society reminiscent of medieval Eastern Europe -- are hardened by the climate, the dangerous wilds, and the wars they have fought against each other over control of the region.
As the PC's wind their way through the landscape, there are a number of directions they could go, and interests they could pursue. Of course, they must do so while also navigating the tentative truce between the two societies, and facing the threats permeating the world around them. Last session, after getting hired to help find someone, they took a detour to investigate a break-in. NPCs from each faction in town are quick to blame the other, while at least one person believes the attacker was a more external, and possibly supernatural, threat. This week, having negotiated a more comfortable lodging situation with the individual whose establishment was targeted, the PC's may follow through on finding the missing person, or may follow up on their investigation. Or both!
There is no railroad here. There are options, and impetus; but player agency is important for the group to be able to help shape the story.
Wherever they end up in two weeks, will your character be likely to join the party, and up to the challenges which may lie before them?
If you are interested in joining our game, please fill out the application: https://forms.gle/LJ9JHQqkCAcjkfY58
As long as the application is open, you can still apply. I will update the thread once I’ve found someone!
Thanks!
(It's after 0400 as I wrap this up, so please forgive any spelling errors or editing shortcomings)

In the heart of Chicago, where the skyline pierced the heavens and the streets pulsed with life, there lived a man named Victor Kane. At 26 years old and a startling 6'3" in stature, Victor commanded attention effortlessly. His piercing gaze seemed to see through the very fabric of one's soul, and his knowing, flirtatious smirk hinted at secrets that few could ever fathom. Victor was a man of many faces, each one carefully crafted and expertly worn to blend into any situation, like a chameleon adapting to its surroundings. Each interaction with another human was as if it were another painting to be hung in the Art Institute of Chicago, a masterpiece of social maneuvering and charm.
To most, he appeared unremarkable, perhaps even a bit dim, an illusion he maintained with meticulous precision. Yet beneath this facade lay a mind as sharp as a dagger, honed by years of strategic thinking, manipulation, and the art of emotional deceit. Victor had learned from the best. His father, a man deeply entrenched in the shadowy world of organized crime, had mastered the art of bending reality to his will. A master chess player, he treated people like pieces on a grand chessboard, moving them at his whim, always six steps ahead. Victor had absorbed these lessons like a sponge, his young mind eagerly soaking up every tactic, every subtle nuance of control.
Battles with his father have left their scars, trailing off Victor like a snake's entrails as they slither through crowded streets, scanning for their next meal. They probe the aura of each passerby, tasting their energy, yet to their disappointment, they find no juicy, dirt-filled sponge of pain and suffering. They taste desires, yet nothing hits just right. Empty husks, devoid of the essence they crave. Living memories enshroud him in a cloud of black smoke, a spectral fog visible only to a witch. A demon, masquerading as a homeless man and muttering incoherent whispers, feels the snake's embrace tighten around him. He halts abruptly, turning to Victor with a knowing gaze. 'I see you,' he murmurs, 'Such discipline and composure may deceive the others, yet it's only a matter of time before they find you.' The homeless man continues his walk, pulling a black suitcase along, his tattered white shirt contrasting sharply with his black suit, and no tie to complete the ensemble.
Victor makes no comment, his mind a labyrinth of dark intentions and calculated moves. He viewed the world as a malleable entity, something he could shape and twist to suit his needs. The streets, the people, the very air he breathed; they were all part of a grand, intricate game where he alone held the key. He had no qualms about using others to achieve his goals, seeing them as mere tools in his grand design. It was a dangerous philosophy, one which required constant vigilance and adaptability. As he moved through the throngs of oblivious souls, he could almost hear the whispers of their deepest fears and hidden sins. The scars trailed behind him, living entities of their own, reaching out hungrily, desperate for a morsel of genuine suffering. Yet the city, with all its noise and chaos, offered little more than hollow echoes and fleeting shadows. Traces of happiness. Lost children in the never ending void of their own desperation. Victor's eyes flickered with a cold, calculating light. He was a master of this urban jungle, a predator in search of worthy prey. The demon’s warning lingered in his mind, yet it only fueled a burning hunger. He thrived in the shadows, where power and control were his for the taking. Each step he took was a step closer to his ultimate end goal, a twisted vision of dominance, only he could see.
In the distance, the city’s lights shimmered like false promises, yet Victor knew better. Beneath the surface, in hidden corners and forgotten alleys, darkness mirrored his own. In this abyss, he felt certain he would find what he sought: the true essence of his own hunger, the raw, unfiltered energy he could devour. Victor thrived on the underestimation of others, reveling when people perceived him as lesser. Such perceptions made his manipulations appear as innocent mistakes, acts of ignorance and oblivion. His favorite targets: those with inflated egos, individuals convinced of their invincibility.
"A person with a big ego is like an orgasm," he often mused, speaking as if to his shadow. "It's just so easy. Their first mistake: telling me we're not equals. Afterward, they reveal all the buttons and levers in their psyche. They hand me their own weapon on a silver platter, asking, 'Victor, please send me to meet Anpu. Please show me the gates of my own demise.' Their insanity begs to be freed from this curse of societal norms. Always the first mistake, then the rest follow." Laughter echoed from the snakes twining around Victor. As he whispered these musings, the words ensnared a group of Venezuelans nearby, inciting them into a frenzy of violence without understanding the spark. Victor watched, casually tossing a silver dollar their way as if to say, "Welcome to the sanctuary," his smirk a shadow under the flickering streetlights. He calls to the boys, 'there now before you boys get into trouble remember this, you're only seeing the lions teeth, yet you haven't seen what triggered it.' They stared at Victor, startled, as he bid them farewell with a two-finger salute from his left temple and continued wandering down the street.
A drone sliced through the air, its camera lens capturing the serpentine twists of the Chicago River below. Victor, watching its flight, was transported to his youth, to days spent cobbling together a demonic owl from discarded household trinkets and an owl decoy. He would pilot this macabre creation through his neighborhood, a spectral puppeteer orchestrating nocturnal ballets which both delighted and unnerved his unsuspecting audience. A sinister grin unfurled across his lips, a shadow's whisper, as memories of those simple machines mingled with the sophisticated arsenal he commanded today. In the digital age, Victor had become a maestro of manipulation, his tools refined yet no less mischievous. Social media platforms were his stage, targeted advertisements and spoofed numbers his actors, each one playing their part in his grand, deceptive symphony. With the deftest touch, he planted seeds of doubt, spun webs of misinformation, transforming allies into adversaries, stitching chaos into the fabric of daily lives with mere whispers masquerading as shouts. His schemes were crafted with such subtlety, woven so seamlessly into the warp and weft of reality, that his victims believed themselves architects of their own undoing.
The crowning jewel of his current machinations was a prototype drone, a whimsical homage to the contraptions of his youth yet imbued with the precision of modern technology. This drone, engineered to navigate from the chilly confines of his refrigerator to the steamy oasis of his rooftop hot tub, was a testament to his technical acumen. Crafted to be mended with mere baubles from any corner hardware store, it stood as a symbol of practical genius, a playful yet potent emblem of his enduring craft.
Victor glimpsed a universe of possibilities within this project, each drone a seed from which new opportunities might bloom. "Perhaps I could craft a model for a dive shop in Australia," he mused. "A sentinel to monitor the slow dance of decay among the coral reefs." Such a gift could forge pathways, perhaps even secure an internship, an opportunity to wield his 417 subclass visa before its flame flickered out. The prospect of traversing Australia's vast landscapes, of weaving his influence through uncharted territories and minds, sparked a thrill within him. Beyond the realm of circuitry and code, Victor possessed a profound mastery over the human psyche. He had the uncanny ability to read individuals, to delve into the murky depths of their insecurities and desires. With the finesse of a sculptor, he could mold a woman’s perception, convincing her of a soul-deep connection, crafting mirages of perfect compatibility. Yet, for all his prowess in the art of deception, Victor adhered to his own strict code. He eschewed physical violence, never staining his hands with assault; his dominion was the mind, his influence woven through the delicate fabric of psychology.
In Chicago's suffocating underbelly, Victor's father regarded him not with paternal concern, rather with venomous animosity. Their relationship was a battleground, devoid of affection or empathy, cloaked threats masquerading as concern. "Victor, if you don't see a psychiatrist, I'm cutting you off," he declared, his voice a cold hiss, a deeper wish for Victor's demise lurking beneath. Victor's laugh, hollow, echoing through the night, a sound devoid of warmth, knew well the true nature of the psychiatrist and the deeper machinations of his father's cruel intentions. His father viewed him not as a son, yet as a nemesis, a presence he wished to erase from existence. Surrounded by the oppressive cityscape, Victor stood alone atop his building, the L line screeching past, the lights below mere distant, watchful eyes. "Tomorrow, I bend reality once more," he whispered into the void, his voice merging with the cold wind sweeping the rooftops.
The relentless pursuit of his father's malice shadowed him into the darkest city corners where shadows moved with intent, whispering of ancient, sinister forces. Here, in the corner of his eyes an oozing of black liquid drenched an alley, a tar monster, a grotesque manifestation of the city’s darkest secrets, its gnarled face and gleaming teeth mirroring the twisted relationship endured. Against a backdrop of a city thrumming with malevolent energy, Victor pondered the fragile line between delusion and reality. "It's only delusional till it works, so is it really delusional?" he mused aloud, his words dissipating into the night where the distinction between madness and genius blurred by darkness.
Retreating from the alley, his figure melded into the shadows, each step deliberate, burdened with the weight of a cursed legacy. He was acutely aware of his dual role, both manipulator and pawn in a grander, more malevolent game, a game orchestrated by forces predating the city itself. Every movement influenced by the sinister energy pervading Chicago, a legacy of corruption and darkness intertwined with his own existence. Victor understood his every action overseen by the ancient entity had taken interest in him, an entity finding delight in his struggle, offering protection at a dreadful cost.
Emerging from the shadows back into the flickering city lights, Victor found no solace in the illumination yet his smile stretched reaching his eyes showing his gleaming razor sharp teeth. These lights did not offer hope only humor; they were beacons of a foreboding reality. He resolved to continue bending reality, wielding the cursed power both protecting, ensnaring him, and pointing out the irony of his situation. Day after day, he would play this dark game, a master of deceit entwined with an ancient force more profound and sinister than any could fathom.
With one final, lingering look at the alley where darkness reigned supreme, Victor Kane laughed, a hollow echo fading as he stepped into the nearby pub. Inside, the warm glow contrasted starkly with the night's chilling embrace, yet the shadows seemed merely to lurk at the edges, waiting. At their usual spot by the worn bar, he found Billy Smith, his old high school Basketball teammate, with two pints of beer ready. They clinked glasses, the sound slicing through the hum of conversations around them. "To the unexpected," Victor intoned, his voice laced with a hint of irony. As they settled into the rhythm of their catch-up, the conversation inevitably turned toward the unfolding news, the war in Ukraine, an event that had caught the world off guard.
"No one ever saw it coming," Billy remarked, his tone a mix of wonder and concern.
Victor's eyes flickered with a dark amusement, and raising his glass again, he offered a toast, this time in Latin, a language that carried the weight of history and secrets. "Ad profundis malorum," he declared, which translated to 'To the depths of evils.'
Billy paused, the words hanging between them like a veil being slowly drawn back to reveal a hidden scene. The toast was enigmatic, resonant with Victor’s acknowledgment of the chaos brewing both near and far, a chaos that, perhaps, only he could navigate.
As the night deepened within the grimy confines of the pub, where every corner whispered of misdeeds and the air hung heavy with the scent of stale beer and lost hopes, the laughter and chatter provided a deceptive cover for the profound game silently playing in Victor’s mind. His cryptic toast, "Ad profundis malorum," echoed a darker undertone amidst the jovial noise.
Across the bar, a woman with long jet black hair and piercing grey eyes watched Victor. Clad in a striking red full-grain leather trench coat, her presence was undeniably conspicuous, yet paradoxically, she remained unnoticed. Despite her short stature, she was fit, her features sharply defined, an attractiveness seemingly almost otherworldly amidst the grime of the pub. Curiously, not even the barkeep spared her a glance, as if she existed in a separate realm, visible only to those she chose to confront. As Billy excitedly shared his plans to open a dive shop with a taco bar on the roof, the woman’s lips moved in a whisper, her voice a soft, clear bell in the din, carrying a dire warning. "I know what you are. We found you." At that moment, a flashback surged through Victor’s mind, a haunting image of a colonial girl he once saw in the Fraser Experimental Forest. His girlfriend at the time had turned to him, her voice tinged with unease. "Victor, do you see what I see? The girl? Yeah, the girl. I can feel something following us. As if it knows what we are yet won't approach, yet I can feel it." This vivid recollection now seemed a prelude to the current moment, a chilling reminder the forces he had glimpsed back then were the same now declaring their presence.
The evening wound down with plans made and stories shared, yet the woman’s prophetic words and the ghostly memory of the girl hung unseen in the air, portending looming confrontations between the light she embodied and the shadow following Victor Kane. As the patrons began to drift away, the shadows reclaiming their territory within the pub, the mysterious woman’s figure faded into the background, her message delivered, her purpose yet unclear but undoubtedly intertwined with Victor’s fate.
The end.

Somehow they can leave a notice in my building saying they “attempted” to deliver my box yet can’t leave the actual package? I’m on the ground floor so they can’t even use stairs as an excuse.
I’ve called USPS to understand why that is the only item they can’t deliver but haven’t received an answer (I know they can’t answer but if enough people complain…). They don’t know if I’m disabled or old or sick or what have you, so why not just make the freaking 4 foot walk to the inside of my building’s vestibule??? The most I order is 25lbs. Yet they expect me to pick it up and carry it home 10 blocks (I live in a city, no car, hence the ordering online)

call me names.
I lock myself in a room, small dusty room - the dust is mostly dirt blows in through the open windows. pollen. it makes you sneeze, me sneeze, even after I close the windows, when it's getting too cold. call me 'sniffles', that's a name you could call me.
someone is afraid, long time they've been afraid and their fear makes them called 'fraidy cat'. they're shuddering. i look over at them in the corner and they shudder harder - i step closer, they shudder harder - like excited atoms, the friction, they start to glow. fire is burning in the corner of the room with them, in them, around them, and now the wallpaper (pale blue with little pink roses here and there) is charred black. hold out a hand (to offer them comfort), but the time is past (for comfort) and the soot blackens your fingertip. i wrote something in the soot like a dirty or a foggy car window (outside or inside, warm or cold). the wall was warm from their little inferno fire burning fire fire but it was years ago (the two steps across the room were years) and your finger doesn't burn, cold like a wall is cold. close the windows. the ashes make sniffles sneeze.
call yourself something big: you can be 'ace' or 'joe cool' or 'the fonz' or 'bullit' or 'brainy smurf' or 'indiana jones' or 'mr. creosote', point is that you've got a lot to give. I'm you. I know i'm you because in mirrors you look me right in the eye. I look over your shoulder. I push a boulder. The moon is like a boulder in space, weightless, and the earth and the sun are pushing it together. One does more work than the other. Rumor has it the moon's just an affectation the earth came up with to impress the sun. instead of reading this you should read that calvino story about the moon.
anyway, the moon's something big. all the dogs howl at it - of course they would. they're just a piece of the earth same as all of us, so it's a kind of arrogance then, the moonhowl, it's look-at-me look-how-great-I-am. I have some barbed wire too, the two dogs on opposite sides, one that's free and the other that isn't, the free one gets stuck below in the middle of the night and bleeds to death, the unfree one runs in circles pointlessly, digs a rut in the ground that matches the fence - the clever observation would be that the one with the name, 'fido' or 'rex' or 'killer', that despite being trapped in the boundary of the fence he's the one who's really free, and the one who has no name (he never had any use for one) is imprisoned in his own way, not by the fence but by his exclusion from the things that matter, the naming of things, etc. that's what you might write if you were trying to be clever.
instead of being clever, you could write the most obvious thing in the world. you could recite it, out loud, in public. you could read and write and recite to delight, the light that burns twice as bright, scribble with some graphite, at night. the persistent rumor (as advanced by the koyannisqatsi guy (that word, so mysterious and alien, of course actually just swiped like everything else from the people it once belonged to, belongs to him now)) that television rots children's brains has little basis in reality. i spent half my life watching television. if i remember correctly the gimmick in this film of his was that the kids were all zombies staring at the television, and the television was showing the disney adaptation of pinnochio or something. maybe it was dumbo. these are both films about being a prisoner. (sniffles might have been that disney dwarf, call him 'sneezy')
the thing i was getting at is that the cathode ray tube is where electrons go. your brain, your personality, it's all the same thing, electrons. they're stuck in your brain. some people believed that x-rays or gamma radiation or something were leeching out of the CRTs and this was why everyone was 'getting dumber', and they believed also that the programming itself was to blame, that if only we made the television more Moral and Upright and Proper things would finally fall into place. it never occurred to them that television was downstream of society itself, that is, them and their actions, the ones they do on purpose as well as the ones they do without thinking. in the cartoon, the wolf goes bananas because of how much of a hard-on he has for red riding hood, everyone is laughing when a train whistle comes out of his head or his eyes bulge out of their sockets, or his tongue is suddenly 50 feet long and unrolls like a red carpet, they laugh and the thought process which produces this hilarious moment is "sometimes desire is like your tongue unrolling like a carpet", "sometimes sex is like steam coming out of your ears", "sometimes your heart beats and every pump it's jutting ten feet out of your chest"
more and more quietly you walk up some stairs. they're creaky and you don't want to wake anyone. i say more and more because the first time you climb them, many years ago, it's too loud and you make the neighbors angry, and even though they don't tell you about it with words, you get the message. (one day you'll build a house with stairs that never creak or stairs that always creak, and this will solve the problem once and for all) the same goes for the heart-beats. heart beats too loud or too quietly. softly the heart beats. beats me.

My family owns a bunch of land in east texas, and I want to have a tiny place of my own down there. I live 2 hours away, and I work during the week and share an apartment with a roommate right now. I don't make a lot, but it's enough that I could finance something premade, so that's the direction I want to go.
I have no skills or experience in construction or building houses, so that's another reason I would prefer to go premade. I don't care for customization, and utilities are covered considering everyone operates off the same wateelectric/septic grid.
Are there any good options for me that is 30k or less? I've been browsing around and what's listed is either way too expensive or sounds too good to be true.
All I really care about is that it's insulated and mostly ready to go. Second most important is that it's built to last. I don't wanna invest in a 10-year loan only to have it fall apart after a few years.
I have family who are willing to help me put something together, but I don't want to burden them with a full-blown diy project. My grandpa has given us 2 scares this year and nobody can get him to slow down. If he catches wind that I'm setting up down there, you couldn't pry the hammer from his hands. Since I will only be able to help out on weekends, it would be much easier to just get something thats easy and can be set up in a week or so.
So, for the big question- are there any reliable options for me that are $30k or less?
If not, what are my options? I'm down to get creative or expand my budget. I'm just one guy and I just started looking about a week ago. I'm pretty directionless and kinda dumb lol.
Thanks in advance!

Hey guys, first time poster here and im trying to make sense of what ive dreamt of. Ive always had super vivid dreams and can usually remember them. My dad passed away very unexpectedly early last month following a very short 2 day illness in the hospital, i was with him the whole time and with him when he passed. He was my best friend.
A couple of weeks after his passing i left him a voicemail just so i could hear his voice again, to try to process some stuff. I said the usual "i miss you so much, i cant process what happened and i want you to come home" that night, i dreamt that he came to my house and he told me he got my voicemail, and that he misses me too. After that it was a pretty normal dream, we had a cuppa, walked his dogs etc everything we would of done when he was here.
Ive left him a couple voicemails since (most recent 2 days ago) but no more dreams about him, until last night. I dreamt that i was back at his house sorting his car out (im still in process irl of sorting that out) and then my cat that died about a year ago came up to me in the dream (she was a small but very fat cat called Angel who we inherited from my partners aunt after she passed) and i picked her up immediately and gave her all the cuddles and went inside my dads house even though there were new people there they let me in. Except when i walked in, my dad greeted me in his bedroom, he was there saying he came back for me again and he brought angel with him (angel loved my dad irl) the only thing that was weird was that a) random people were living in his house but let him be there too and b) he would hide when someone walked by the house because nobody else was supposed to know he'd come back.
If its worth noting though, i figured if my dad would bring anyone to me in my dream, i thought it would be my dog who i lost a couple of years ago. She was my first pet of my own that moved out with me, she was my entire world. Me him and mekai, my dog, would spend so much time together. So does the fact it was my cat angel, who dont get me wrong i loved SO much but we had her for a lot shorter period of time, mean anything, or is this literally just a dream and my brain trying to process grief.
Sorry for a long winded post. Ive spent a while trying to search online for what any of this could mean but its hard to find anything. Thank you for anyone who gives any input on this situation, or even if you dont have anythijg that could help me figure it out just thank you for reading and letting me get it out somewhere.

I had a couple uncomfortable dreams, and was unable to stay asleep. I woke up at every hou40 minutes. If I managed to sleep past 15-20. I was dehydrated as well, because I ate too much flour right before going to bed. My first dream was about being watched.
There was probably a dream before that. After that one, I dreamt about a unveiled claim that billy corgan was molested by his mom. I was with my parents, sitting in the car by myself. A guy walked past who I acted like was serj tankian, even though he looked nothing like him. He had round features and looked almost mexican. Later, I had another dream where I had the awareness that my dreams were important. For a spiritual reason. Some godly, reason.
In the next dream, I was in a strange building with my family members. There was halloween decoanimatronics near the entrance or exit door. It felt like a ride as we slowly approached the walkway. I gracefully did so, probably trying to not look up at the animatronics. It's usually a reaper, constantly. Once we all were getting ready to leave, I carried a handful of things/candy. We walked outside off the porch, and I saw a younger version of my nephew. He took a piece of candy that was mine and ate it. I punched him square in the face. I vaguely remember seeing baby blankets. Before we walked outside. Everyone stood around, including my nephew at his current age. He was only a toddler. Around this time, we were in a room with some old ladies and boomers. Astrology was relevant for some reason, since I brought it up, likely. 'Leos are excessive, aries are misjudged as mean, and sags are suspicious and paranoid. About the people around them, their friends. About the world..' I paused before describing Sagittarius, feeling uneasy around the old lady who was listening to me. My mom stood at my side, probably bored or indifferent. Just like the lady seemed. She was a bitch; I could feel how much she appeared indifferent towards me. She must've been a sagittarius.
In the other side of the room, I was looking at a packet of paper that was laid in the filing drawer. It talked about the different eras of victorian houses. I saw it mentioned, 'fake doors' under victorian. That would make my house victorian, maybe. It's from the early 1900s, so just barely is it real victorian. I do not have fake doors in my house at all. I was picturing the banister on my stairs that doesn't have a lid that detaches. It's molded into the classic shape. A old lady walked over to me, pushing the filing cabinet away. Bitch, I was reading that.
At home, I went up into my bedroom. Cats were sleeping in it. A black kitten looked up at me, precious, as I tossed a cord across the floor, behind/above him. It was a cord with a plastic kitten arm on the end, like it was supposed to go to a handheld device. I thought of a gameplay controller that you plug into the tv. But it was too thin and obviously made to inject into something else. It had been laying on another kitten.
I took notice of a spider that was crawling on my bookshelf. It was white and pregnant. On one of my books, there was a spider sack on it. It was little. I don't know what happened to I assume was a second spider sack. A book with a white cover got my attention, because black specks ran over every inch of it. My little brothers had came into the room, before the infestation happened. Behind me was a rubber tub full of stuff with fabric on the top. My cats were sleeping on it. I saw my siamese in the room as well, looking at me. I woke up, itchy and scared. I hate this dream, and I also happen to hate spiders. Obviously, I have someone fake in my life. A domineering female/mother figure. Since it was both cats and spiders.

I’m a bit confused. Was this a paranormal horror show? When I started watching the first few episodes it seemed on the more realistic side. But then towards the latter half it became paranormal. Like everyone in the family became schizo and started seeing red haired freak clown 🤡 show.
I’m gonna be honest, I wish it had stuck to realism and not paranormal, because I would have stopped watching it earlier then. It kind of made it worse for me. Because now there’s no real plot. It’s just a clown show completely open to interpretation. There’s no real plot.
It threw the real plot that was building up in the trash. I have no clue if Edmund is alive or dead. If they are all schizophrenic, on drugs or drugged. And the racist cop McKinney and the whole incident with the KKKops (1 who was also on the IA commission). So who was committing the murders if Edmund was dead? Dawn, Dawns unknown third sibling, black face 😂😂😂 or was the whole thing just them hallucinating?
Also when someone’s family member gets their head decapitated, there’s usually a lot more mourning and fear going on then what we saw. There’s also police protection, especially for cops regardless of IA investigations of you want to use that as an excuse. If not, then the cops are fucking useless.
And how were these ppl dying with their bones cracked in a gazillion places if there was no killer? Who killed them? Who killed the boy in the back of Dawns car? Or is it just all paranormal and I’m thinking too deep where this is just meant to be a brain dead show?
Were most of Edmund’s murders that were shown actually murders from two years ago then before he committed suicide? Who killed Dawns mom then and chopped her head off? Who kidnapped the son? Dawn was shown talking to no one. They all were. So it’s all really confusing.
What the fuck did I just watch? 🤣
Everyone is ranting and raving positively about S2, but does anyone else feel disappointed or confused?
I thought this was going to be a dark (horror) thriller, not a paranormal horror.
I’m not gonna lie tho it’s 3:20am, I’m a grown ass man, and I feel scared of the dark for the first time in nearly two decades. I can’t get the image of the freakshow out of my head.

Have you ever heard of a magnetic screen door? If not, you're in for a treat!
We will explore what a magnetic screen door is and how it works. We will also discuss the numerous benefits of using one, such as easy entry and exit, keeping bugs out, and saving energy.
We will delve into the different types of magnetic screen doors, how to install them, tips for maintenance, common issues to watch out for, and more.
So, sit back, relax, and let's dive into the world of magnetic screen doors!

👉 Klick hier für mehr Informationen

Key Takeaways:

• Easy to install and use, magnetic screen doors provide a convenient solution for keeping bugs out and allowing for natural ventilation.
• With various types available, including retractable, hanging, and sliding, there is a magnetic screen door for every doorway.
• Regular cleaning and proper maintenance can help prevent common issues with magnetic screen doors, such as weakening magnet strength or wear and tear.

What Is a Magnetic Screen Door?

A magnetic screen door is a convenient and versatile solution for keeping insects out while allowing a refreshing breeze to flow through your living space. Typically made of PVC coated polyester mesh, these doors feature velcro strips and magnets for easy installation and use.
These screen doors are designed to fit most standard door sizes, and some models are customizable, allowing you to choose the perfect fit for your specific doorway.
The variety of colors available ensures that you can find a magnetic screen door that complements the aesthetics of your home.
Privacy screens are an essential feature of many magnetic screen doors, providing not only protection from insects but also a shield from prying eyes in busy outdoor settings.

How Does a Magnetic Screen Door Work?

A magnetic screen door operates through the use of strategically placed magnets along the edges that ensure a secure closure after entry or exit. This mechanism effectively prevents bugs and insects from entering the living space while allowing a continuous flow of fresh air through the PVC mesh material.
These magnets act as a powerful force, promptly pulling the screen closed behind anyone passing through. The PVC mesh screen acts as a dual-action feature, filtering out dust and providing excellent ventilation without compromising on security. This combination ensures that homes remain pest-free, while still enjoying the benefits of a constant breeze flowing through the room. The seamless blend of magnetic closures and durable mesh makes these screen doors an innovative solution to keep indoor spaces bug-free and airy.

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What Are the Benefits of Using a Magnetic Screen Door?

Utilizing a magnetic screen door offers numerous advantages, including easy access for entry and exit, protection against bugs and insects, natural ventilation that brings in a refreshing breeze, and energy efficiency by reducing the need for artificial cooling systems.
These doors play a crucial role in enhancing the connection between indoor and outdoor spaces. They create a seamless transition, making it easier to move between the two areas without any barriers. This not only promotes a sense of openness but also allows for better air circulation, improving the overall air quality within the living space.
With the installation of magnetic screen doors, you can enjoy the beauty of the outdoors while maintaining a level of privacy, especially when compared to traditional outdoor curtains. These doors contribute to energy savings by allowing natural light to enter the home, reducing the reliance on artificial lighting during the day.

Allows for Easy Entry and Exit

One of the primary benefits of a magnetic screen door is its seamless installation process that enables convenient entry and exit from your living space without the need for complex mechanisms or tools.
These innovative screen doors only require basic household tools to set up, making it a hassle-free addition to your home. By following the straightforward instructions provided, you can easily attach the magnetic strips to your door frame in a matter of minutes.
Once installed, the magnetic screen door effortlessly opens and closes, allowing for a smooth transition between your indoor and outdoor spaces. Its user-friendly design is ideal for those who value simplicity and functionality in their home improvement projects.

Keeps Bugs and Insects Out

The PVC mesh material of a magnetic screen door acts as a barrier against insects and bugs, ensuring a pest-free environment within your living space. Regular cleaning with appropriate agents helps maintain its effectiveness.
By incorporating PVC mesh in the construction of the screen door, homeowners create a strong line of defense against unwanted critters while still allowing fresh air to circulate. The mesh structure effectively blocks out mosquitoes, flies, and other pests without obstructing the view or airflow.
To ensure continued protection, it is crucial to conduct routine cleanings using gentle agents that preserve the integrity of the material. This not only helps in removing any trapped debris or dust but also safeguards the door's durability against wear and tear due to dirt accumulation.

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Provides Natural Ventilation

By allowing a refreshing breeze to pass through, a magnetic screen door provides natural ventilation that enhances indoor air quality and creates a comfortable environment. Privacy screens can be integrated for added security.
One of the key advantages of incorporating magnetic screen doors is their ability to facilitate the circulation of fresh air throughout your living space. This not only helps in reducing stuffiness but also contributes to maintaining a healthier indoor atmosphere by minimizing the build-up of pollutants and odors.
The option to include privacy screens further enhances the functionality of these doors. The privacy screens provide an additional layer of security, preventing unwanted intrusions while still allowing airflow to pass through effortlessly.

Saves Energy

The use of a magnetic screen door promotes energy efficiency by reducing the reliance on artificial cooling systems, leading to potential cost savings. Combining it with outdoor curtains can further enhance insulation.
When these two elements are paired together, the magnetic screen door acts as a barrier against insects and allows fresh air to flow into the space, reducing the need for constant air conditioning usage. This results in lower electricity bills and decreased energy consumption, aligning with sustainable living practices.
Incorporating outdoor curtains alongside the magnetic screen door creates an additional layer of protection from heat gain or loss, effectively maintaining indoor temperatures during different seasons. Properly sealed windows and doorways play a crucial role in preventing energy wastage, promoting a comfortable living environment without the need for excessive heating or cooling."

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What Are the Different Types of Magnetic Screen Doors?

There are various types of magnetic screen doors available, including retractable, hanging, and sliding options, each offering unique features and installation methods to suit different door configurations and preferences.
Retractable magnetic screen doors are popular for their sleek and space-saving design, ideal for single entry doors or French doors that need easy access.
Hanging magnetic screen doors, on the other hand, provide a cost-effective solution for temporary use or renters, with easy setup and removal.
Sliding magnetic screen doors are perfect for patio or sliding doors, offering seamless operation without obstructing the view.

Retractable Magnetic Screen Doors

Retractable magnetic screen doors feature a roll-up mechanism that allows for easy installation and operation, making them an ideal choice for doorways with limited space or aesthetic preferences.
These innovative doors offer a practical solution for keeping insects out while maintaining airflow and natural light indoors. The unique design ensures that the screen neatly rolls away when not in use, maximizing space efficiency.
Due to their versatility, they can be installed on various entryways, including French doors, sliding patio doors, and single doors. The user-friendly installation process makes it convenient for homeowners to set them up without the need for professional assistance.

Hanging Magnetic Screen Doors

Hanging magnetic screen doors are suspended from a top rail and provide effective insect protection while offering easy passage for humans and pets through the center opening.
These innovative doors are designed to keep pesky bugs like flies, mosquitoes, and gnats out of your home while allowing fresh air to flow freely. The strong magnets strategically placed along the edges ensure that the door snaps shut behind you, preventing any unwanted invaders from sneaking inside. The convenience of simply walking through the magnetic closure without using your hands makes them ideal for busy households with children and pets.

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Their sleek and unobtrusive design adds a modern touch to any doorway.

Sliding Magnetic Screen Doors

Sliding magnetic screen doors glide along tracks to open and close, ensuring a snug fit that keeps insects out while providing a smooth operation for users. Proper installation is crucial to maximize their effectiveness.
Regarding the features of sliding magnetic screen doors, their design allows them to effortlessly slide along the designated tracks, offering a user-friendly experience that blends functionality and convenience. One of the standout qualities is their ability to be customized to fit various door sizes and types, catering to different home setups and preferences. This customization factor ensures that the door snugly fits in place, leaving no gaps for pesky insects to sneak through.
Installing these doors requires attention to detail and precision. Fit accuracy is paramount to prevent any gaps that could compromise the insect protection they provide. An improperly installed screen door may not only let insects in but also hinder the smooth operation of the door itself. Ensuring a precise installation is key to enjoying the full benefits of a sliding magnetic screen door.

How to Install a Magnetic Screen Door?

Installing a magnetic screen door is a straightforward process that begins with measuring your door frame accurately, followed by preparing the components and securing the screen door in place using the provided instructions.
Once you have measured the width and height of your door frame, ensure to double-check the accuracy to avoid any fitting issues later on. Accurate measurements are crucial for a seamless installation process.
Next, clear the door frame area of any debris or obstructions that may hinder the installation. This step will create a clean surface for attaching the magnetic screen door.
Before beginning the installation, carefully unpack all the components that come with the screen door kit and familiarize yourself with the different parts. Each component plays a vital role in ensuring the door functions properly.

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Measure Your Door Frame

Before installing a magnetic screen door, ensure precise measurements of your door frame to facilitate custom sizing and a secure fit, enhancing the door's overall effectiveness.
Accurate measurements play a crucial role in ensuring that the magnetic screen door aligns perfectly with the door frame. Custom sizing allows for a tailored fit, eliminating gaps that could let bugs in and maintaining the aesthetic appeal of your doorway. An ill-fitted screen door may not only compromise its functionality but also lead to potential damage or wear and tear. By taking the time to measure your door frame correctly, you set the foundation for a smooth installation process and long-term satisfaction with the performance of your magnetic screen door.

Prepare the Magnetic Screen Door

Preparing the magnetic screen door involves familiarizing yourself with the components, ensuring all parts are included, and verifying the integrity of the PVC coated polyester mesh before proceeding with the installation process.
Inspect all the elements of the magnetic screen door kit, including the frame, magnets, and fastening strips, to guarantee nothing is missing or damaged.
Check the PVC coated polyester mesh for any tears, holes, or weak spots that could compromise its effectiveness in keeping bugs out while allowing fresh air to flow through.
Address any issues with the mesh promptly by either repairing small damages with a patch or contacting the manufacturer for a replacement if necessary.

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Install the Screen Door

The final step in installing a magnetic screen door is to follow the manufacturer's instructions to securely attach the screen door to the door frame, ensuring proper alignment of magnets for effective closure and insect protection.
Ensure that the magnetic strips on both sides of the door are aligned correctly to allow for a strong magnetic closure.

• Start by positioning the door at the top of the frame and lining up the magnets on the screen with the corresponding magnets on the frame.
• Check for any gaps or misalignments, adjusting the positioning if necessary to guarantee a snug fit.

Following the guidelines meticulously will help in achieving a seamless installation and optimal performance of your magnetic screen door.

What Are Some Tips for Maintaining a Magnetic Screen Door?

To ensure the longevity and efficiency of your magnetic screen door, it is essential to clean it regularly using gentle cleaning agents that do not damage the PVC mesh. Avoid harsh chemicals that may compromise the door's integrity.
Regular cleaning not only helps in maintaining the overall appearance of the magnetic screen door but also ensures proper functioning by preventing clogs and blockages caused by dirt and debris. Insects, such as mosquitoes and flies, are common nuisances that can get trapped in the mesh, affecting the door's performance. By using appropriate cleaning agents, you can effectively eliminate these unwanted visitors while preserving the durability of the PVC mesh. It's crucial to keep in mind that harsh chemicals can deteriorate the materials over time, leading to tears and damage that may affect the door's effectiveness.

Clean Regularly

Regular cleaning of the PVC mesh on your magnetic screen door, using mild soapy water and a soft brush, helps remove dirt, dust, and debris that may impede the door's functionality. For vinyl magnet screen doors, gentle wiping is recommended.
When cleaning PVC mesh screens, start by removing the screen from the door frame, if possible, to clean it more thoroughly. Fill a bucket with warm water and a small amount of mild detergent to create a cleaning solution. Gently scrub the mesh with a soft brush or sponge to loosen any stubborn dirt or stains. Rinse the screen with clean water and allow it to air dry completely before reinstalling.
For vinyl magnet screen doors, use a damp cloth or sponge to wipe down the surface. Avoid using harsh chemicals or abrasive cleaners that can damage the vinyl material. Regular wiping will help maintain the appearance and longevity of the magnetic screen door.

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Avoid Harsh Chemicals

When cleaning your magnetic screen door, refrain from using harsh chemicals or abrasive cleaners that can cause damage to the PVC mesh material. Opt for mild cleaning agents to preserve the door's structural integrity.
This is crucial as harsh chemicals can lead to discoloration or weakening of the PVC mesh, which could compromise the overall effectiveness of the door in keeping bugs out while allowing fresh air to flow through.
By selecting gentle cleaning solutions, you not only maintain the aesthetic appeal of your magnetic screen door but also extend its lifespan, ensuring that it continues to function seamlessly for years to come.

Store Properly During Winter Months

During the winter months, it is advisable to store your magnetic screen door properly to prevent damage from harsh weather conditions. Consider removing and storing privacy screens and outdoor curtains for added protection.
Proper storage of your magnetic screen door involves more than just taking it down and leaving it in the garage. To ensure its longevity, protecting it from the snow, ice, and winds is crucial. Opt for a clean and dry storage space, away from moisture and extreme temperatures. If possible, store it in its original packaging or cover it with a sturdy material to prevent dust accumulation.
For those who have privacy screens or outdoor curtains attached, make sure to remove and store them properly as well. Clean them before storing to avoid mold growth during the months they are not in use.

What Are Some Common Issues with Magnetic Screen Doors?

While magnetic screen doors offer numerous benefits, common issues may arise such as magnet strength variations, fit and installation challenges, and wear and tear over time that can impact their performance and durability.

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One potential problem associated with magnetic screen doors is the inconsistent magnet strength. Due to variations in manufacturing or environmental factors, the magnetic attraction may not always be uniform, leading to gaps or ineffective closure.
Another common challenge lies in fit adjustments, as the screens may require precise installation to ensure a tight seal. Improper fit can result in insects sneaking through or the door not closing securely.
Long-term durability concerns come into play as the constant opening and closing of the door, exposure to elements, and normal wear and tear can degrade the quality over time, compromising its functionality.

Magnet Strength

One of the issues that users may encounter with magnetic screen doors is inconsistent magnet strength, leading to gaps in closure and reduced insect protection. Ensuring optimal magnet alignment can help address this challenge.
Proper magnet alignment is crucial in ensuring a secure and tight seal when the screen door is closed, preventing insects from entering the house. The strength of the magnets plays a key role in maintaining the integrity of the seal. Strong magnets help keep the door closed securely, maximizing its effectiveness in keeping bugs out. To enhance magnet strength, users can consider options like upgrading to higher-grade magnets or adding supplementary magnets along the door frame to improve closure reliability.

Fit and Installation

Proper fit and installation are crucial for the optimal performance of magnetic screen doors. Issues with fit and installation can result in gaps that compromise insect protection and airflow control, necessitating adjustments for a secure seal.
Ensuring that the magnetic screen door fits correctly is essential to prevent bugs and insects from entering your home while allowing fresh air to flow through. A common challenge during installation is getting the measurements right to avoid gaps that can undermine the door's effectiveness.
When facing fit issues, consider adjusting the tension of the screen or checking the alignment of the frame. Improper installation can lead to the door not closing properly or tearing prematurely. It's crucial to follow the manufacturer's instructions meticulously to ensure a snug fit and proper functioning.

Wear and Tear

Over time, magnetic screen doors may experience wear and tear due to frequent use and exposure to elements.
Regular upkeep is essential for ensuring that these doors function smoothly and efficiently. Dust, dirt, and debris can accumulate on the magnetic strips and mesh, causing them to deteriorate over time.
It is recommended to clean the door regularly using a gentle soap and water solution. Checking for loose screws, damaged components, and tears in the screen is crucial. Addressing these issues promptly through maintenance and timely repairs can significantly prolong the life of the door.

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Conclusion

In conclusion, magnetic screen doors offer a practical and efficient solution for enhancing indoor-outdoor connectivity, protecting against insects, and promoting natural ventilation. Coupled with the option to include privacy screens or outdoor curtains, these doors contribute to a comfortable and energy-efficient living environment.
These innovative doors not only keep bugs at bay but also allow for uninterrupted airflow, creating a refreshing ambiance inside the house. With the added feature of privacy screens, magnetic screen doors offer the flexibility to control visibility and enhance security without compromising on the aesthetic appeal. The incorporation of outdoor curtains provides an extra layer of insulation, helping maintain a stable indoor temperature throughout the seasons. Whether for a cozy reading nook or a lively patio, these doors cater to various preferences and seamlessly blend functionality with style.

Frequently Asked Questions

1. What is a magnetic screen door?

A magnetic screen door is a type of screen door that is designed to easily open and close using magnets instead of traditional hinge mechanisms. It is often used as a temporary solution for keeping insects out while allowing for easy access through the door.

2. How does a magnetic screen door work?

A magnetic screen door works by using a series of magnets that are sewn into the edges of the screen. When the door is opened, the magnets automatically align and close the screen behind the person walking through. As the person exits, the magnets separate and the screen opens again.

3. What are the benefits of using a magnetic screen door?

There are several benefits to using a magnetic screen door, including allowing for easy entry and exit without the need to constantly open and close a traditional door. It also helps keep insects and pests out while still allowing for fresh air and natural light to enter the space.

4. Can a magnetic screen door be used on any type of door?

Generally, magnetic screen doors can be used on most types of doors, including single and double doors, sliding doors, and even RV doors. However, it is important to check the dimensions and compatibility of the screen door with your specific door before purchasing.

5. How do you install a magnetic screen door?

Magnetic screen doors are typically easy to install and require no tools or drilling. Most models come with a velcro strip or adhesive tape that allows the screen to be attached to the door frame. It is important to follow the manufacturer's instructions for proper installation.

6. Are there any downsides to using a magnetic screen door?

While magnetic screen doors have many benefits, there are also a few potential downsides to consider. They may not be as durable as traditional screen doors and may not hold up well in extreme weather conditions. Some models may also not provide as much protection from strong winds or heavy rain.

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Hello! Long-time lurker and a reader of the subreddit’s wiki page. But I am looking for more individualized advice on my situation. To give some context, I am 23 years old, and I recently graduated last year. I just got a job this past March and will be getting a promotion or raise in August.
I currently live at home and pay no bills outside of personal debts and luxuries. My parents have allowed me to do this until I complete my PhD, which is not for another 5ish years.
My personal finance strategy is to invest $1,000 of my next paycheck into my Roth IRA to max out the yearly contributions. And then I started to build up my emergency fund to around $9,000, which is a six-month emergency fund to pay off my monthly bills. Afterward, I will continue to invest in my brokerage account, diversifying my portfolio.
My investment strategy for my brokerage account is 70/30 in VTI/growth stocks (MSFT, APPL, GOOG, and AMZN). My 401k has a target date fund. And my ROTH IRA is 100% in VOO.
If there’s anything I should start looking into or fixing, please let me know because I am brand new to this and I want to be financially responsible! Thank you in advance.
Overview:
Personal Finance:
Pre-Tax Income: $48,000
Checking: $2,000
Savings: $1,000
Credit Score: 763
Bills:
Monthly Credit Card Statement: ~$200-400
Monthly Car Payment: $807.71
Monthly Student Loan Payment: $278.59
Loans:
Car Loan: ~$40,000 with 6.87% APR for 60 Month Term
Student Loans: ~$27,000 with 2.50 - 5.00% APR (Public Service Loan Forgiveness)
Investment/Retirement:
401k (5% Full Match): $780
ROTH IRA ($6000/$7000 Yearly Contributions): $6200
Brokerage Account: $16,900
Crypto: $1,000 (BTC/ETH)

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