I've only seen a few small streamers talk about this, but absolutely nothing mainstream or widespread.
Men in large are being forced to stay in Ukraine while women and children get to flee. The men there are being physically forced into conscription, in some cases even being basically kidnapped. Majority of these men will later go on to die or likely come back fucked up mental/physically.
My question is why no is talking about this in the mainstream media? Where is all the protests that Americans seem to love? We protest the wars going on in the middle east, all this talk about how women are being r-worded and what not in the middle east, but nothing about the men being forced to die for a war they don't want to fight in.
Side note of conversation: if a wadraft were to start in the US again, I believe most men would be in the same position as ukraine/russian men in not wanting to fight and trying to dodge the draft.

A homeless teenager reaches out to the Shil’vati on first day of the invasion of Earth.
Credit to: who has beta read just about every chapter, and the only reason it's readable half the time
u/bluefishcake for writing the original SSB story.
Pizzaulostin who has been beta reading since the beginning.
Credit to u/HollowShel for getting me started with this!
This story is based in the SSB universe.
Previous
First
Chapter 33:

Reqellia:

It was the darkest part of the night, and yet I could hear the energetic commotion of Ruhal blearily heating up food for a famished human along with the clinks of dishes and silverware.
“One more day.” I felt glued to the bench as I stared back into the silver mask I hadn’t worn for almost [twenty-five years] prior, and had hoped never to put on again. I cursed my old girlish wishes when I first joined up, wanting to be a war hero, and then a mother afterwards. To grow old and see my own child in uniform. I had even wanted a son since I was already demanding the impossible.
I never believed in the gods, but now I’m sure that I’ve tempted Niosa to grant my wishes, but only after I made my peace with them that they would never come true.
Klein bounced around the suite’s kitchen, eating enough for two Shil women and already wearing his armor’s underlayment. The chair creaked a bit as he sat, his own horror-show mask on the dining table next to him staring back at him unblinking.
And It was a horror show.
He’d wake up cheerful and happy, and I’d watch over the day as every bit of his energy was drained out of him. The daily exercise routine of a morning run and gym day in a month being performed in a few short hours. Every time Klein finished a trail faster, or performed a more grueling task, the trainers would make him do even more as his contract offers rose another level.
I didn’t blame the instructors, it was their job to challenge each applicant, but Klein blew through all their expectations, so they just kept piling more onto him. Many of those same instructors had asked me if they were pushing him too far, but all I could do was shrug. Even I didn't even know where his potential ended.
I blinked and looked up. He was in his full armor now, with only the mask off.
“Ready to go?”
I nodded and stood up, quickly heading over to Ruhal, who in turn looked at me with sleep deprived eyes. Worn out as I was, he was worse, playing subject matter expert on all things human around a bunch of high ranking officers desperate for information not tainted by censorship.
“Stay safe out there,” he politely ordered as he kissed me.
I kissed him back and held his hand. “You too.”
Sighing,I left to let him rest, popped my back, and donned my own mask.
As Klein paced the door, I begged for safety. “One more day, please let everything be okay after today.”
I shouldn’t have tempted Niosa again.

Itaro:

I quietly padded out of the children’s den to a chorus of snoring from my siblings. The well carpeted securely fastened to wooden floors muffled my footsteps. I opened the large storm shutters and then pulled open the sliding glass door to the patio. I couldn’t sleep anymore, excitedly bouncing from one foot to another.
Klein and Reqellia were coming home tonight! Reqellia had sent me her contract offers that came from a dozen different Imperial departments and bureaus. Dad already agreed years ago she could move in with us, a pack sister was always welcome. Now she wouldn’t feel like a burden if she had to.
And Klein… Well, I wouldn’t be bothered by a few love-marks.
“I see that smile. Excited?” I heard my father’s deep voice like distant thunder. I turned around to his massive form only a few steps away. We both had learned to walk silently when my siblings were just pups and the discovery that they were light sleepers had been made.
I felt my ears droop just a little to see his melancholic face. He had gone out of his way the last few weeks to spend more time with just me now that I had a pack of my own. There was always a soft smile on his face, but the way his tail hung low to the floor was a dead giveaway on his mood.
I tried to cheer him up. “I am. It’s been weeks since I got to speak to Au’tes, and Klein…” I trailed off, the insinuation clear. He smirked. He had met Klein in passing, but I wasn’t bringing him home yet. Hario on the other hand had made one or two bawdy jokes at the dinner table after a second glass of her favorite liquor.
First time Klein spends the night, you might want to check up on Itaro, make sure she didn’t keel over from exhaustion.
“At this rate I’m going to have to teach you sword fighting to beat back other male suitors from poaching you for their own packs!” My father joked. Stepping off the patio landing, he hit the ground noiselessly, bending his legs to absorb the shock.

After letting out a quiet grunt indicative of an age he tried to keep hidden, he turned around and looked back up at me. “Want to come with me for a walk?”
I jumped down and followed him into our little patch of forest my mother’s terraforming job paid for. The early morning was already warm without a cooling vest, but not intolerable. The chirping of birds and the soft whistle of wind tinged with just a hint of salt made everything feel fresh.
It was like when I came home from school and my father would stop construction for the day. We’d explore the forest, play on the beach, go into town for groceries.
Except now my father didn’t run and have me chase him. He carefully inspected the trees for pests, and our conversation was far more practical than whimsical. “Your mother’s coming home next month. Can you write her a message before she meets Klein, just so she has a better idea of your pack?”
I nodded. “Of course. How long is she going to be home this time?”.
Her terraforming jobs always lasted months, if not years. I never faulted her for the huntress life, but it made connecting with her difficult. She was more a guest of honor than a mother to the household, always bringing a fatted Sou’ta carcass home as a present, but rarely cleaned dishes, or the house.
Or really any chore…
He shrugged before crouching next to a felled tree, trimming away small branches for kindling with a tiny hatchet he hand pulled from his tool pouch. “Might be a good long while this time. The last message I got said her department only had small projects and a few hazard jobs on the periphery. Besides, we might need an extra set of hands more than the money now.”
I scoffed. “Her, a house mother!? No offense, but mom is a terrible cook, and a worse caretaker. Remember the time she nearly burned down our kitchen boiling water?”
He laughed with me as he pocketed the hatchet. Standing up with two sticks, and then threw me one. I caught it as he swung his own stick in my general area. “Defend yourself! I did say I needed to teach you sword fighting. How else are you going to fight off possessive men when they realize what a catch you are?”
He didn’t teach anything but how to rough house on a lazy Shel morning.
We played and swung the flimsy branches until I accidentally hit him square in the chest. The branch, already crumbly and dry, disintegrated on impact. It didn’t stop him from dramatically acting out a death scene. Falling to his knees in an overly theatrical fashion. “Oh, woe is me! Cut down by my own daughter in cold blood!”
I let him pretend to be on stage for a few moments longer before standing over him to offer a hand. He took it, and then yanked me down to the grassy patch, holding me for a long, quiet minute. “I’m going to miss you.”
For the first time I noticed the stray white hairs around his muzzle, I knew what he meant, but I tried to play it off. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He just held me for a silent heartbeat longer, then let go and stood up.
He proclaimed cheerfully to mask his wet eyes. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up. You can’t look like a pup out of a mud bath for your victorious pack! I even scheduled a visit at Tulo’s for a haircut. Ruhal’s treat.”
My mind played with potential futures as we headed home. Between the three of us, we could write our own life together. Maybe I could even stay close to home.
I looked up to the rising light.
“One more day!”

Klein :

The mountains of gear and equipment around us were illuminated by harsh flood lights. We stood in formation with each person, regardless of species, showing physical signs of exhaustion. Drooping shoulders and bent knees, unfocused and slow eye movement.
Instructor Li’kele was wearing full battle rattle today, complete with a compact lasrifle holstered to her leg.
“Good morning applicants! It’s the last day of selection! Your assignment will be to support your sisters in the combat section in the wargames! You see all this critical equipment? Our first assignment will be to load all of it on auto-turoxes and hover-wagons. Unfortunately we don’t have enough capacity , some of you will need to carry gear on your person as we make the [ten mile] trek into the forest. Applicants 849, 734, 236 and 953 step up after we finish loading! You are our extra carriers.”
I knew I was going to be picked. It was easy to not let it bother me though. Reqellia had explained that the instructors were just trying to push us to our limits, and every extra duty and handicap meant a better contract with a brighter future.
Still, after hefting thousands of [pounds/kilos] of stuff onto the squat legged drone’s cargo cages and the little platforms that would float once powered, dread formed in the pit of my stomach as an entire counter-battery system was cinched onto my person. I trudged as we formed up for our road march.
The combat selection team rolled in as we took positions, already covered in mud from what I could guess was their own morning fun, their las-rifles at the low ready. Their own instructor, a severe looking Hyena-like Kortika woman with fur that trimmed short and smooth. She yelled out orders to the gaggle of applicants under her command. “Form on either side of the supply train and defend them at all costs! If they get shot because you weren’t doing your job, then it’s your ass that will be carrying the extra gear!”
We marched out of the base, clinking and clunking as we traveled uphill. The weight wasn’t too bad now that it was evenly distributed on my body, but it would be hell taking it off and putting it back on anytime we stopped.
“Isn’t that the new shock trooper ? What’s he doing with the non-combat selection?” I heard one of the combat applicants say idly. It was easy to pick up conversation in the nearly silent dawn as we marched on a dirt path extending across an expanse of grassland in the reddening sky. It was really pretty, watching the light play on the green forested hills in the distance.
Their Instructor sidled up to the commenting girl silently, ears swiveled back in anger. She grabbed her shoulder, growling low. “Cut the chatter, girl. ”
Silence followed for the next hour in the pre-dawn light.
We got the first taste of the wargames when red beams bolted over our heads and dropped one of our auto-turoxes. “Everyone get down!” yelled one of our instructors, and I threw myself on the path.
With all the weight on me, the impact on the ground hurt . I looked up and saw red beams blink in and out over me. Their flashes brought back memories.
The red glow through convenience store windows . An alien invasion.
I blinked furiously and turned my head to see what was going on with the combat teams on the sides of the road. They had already taken out two of the ‘raiders’ who stood up, hands in the air as they walked away. Another minute clicked by before a squad decided to double check the tall grass and found a third raider hiding. All had the insignia of the instruction cadre commandos.
“Everyone, up !” Instructor Lik’ele belted out in a two-word shout, and I had to push up off the ground, creaking under the weight. My arms burned as I got to my knees, then raised a hand and called out, “assistance!” One of the unnumbered girls gave me a hand to steady myself, and I rocked a bit trying to stand.
“Thank you,” I said, but between the voice distorter and my mask, the girl backed away as soon as I was up, fear registered in her eyes.
[At the bus stop, a classmate backed away from me. scared of me for some reason mumbling ‘you're bleeding’. Warmth on my upper lip, a coppery taste.]

I shook my head, trying to banish the weird memory surfacing, I hadn’t had a nosebleed since I left Earth. I looked back up, but the girl had already gotten back in formation and we started moving again.
It wasn’t quite noon when we stopped for lunch. I got help removing my kit, and stretched to work out the kinks. Reqellia stood next to me as I sat down on the hard packed surface. I took off my gloves, and jammed them under my chest holster.
I was technically ‘armed’ right now. We had gotten the thirty-minute las-pistol training yesterday on how to safely handle them, and then ran through a quick range. They were nothing more than glorified laser pointers though. They could lock up a suit set to respond to the laser signal, but they wouldn’t so much as redden skin otherwise.
Reqellia had let me in on their real purpose, to see if we could be trusted with a dangerous object and not play with it.
Eating was a pain, I had to lift my mask halfway up and eat blind. The meal pack was cold, but eh, it was food. Goddess, I was hungry.
“How are you holding up?” Reqellia asked, the silver mask obscuring any expression, and the voice distorter deadening any intonation, but by the angle of the head tilt, I could guess the question was more concern than curiosity.
“It’s not too heavy, but it’s awkward trying to move around,” I admitted as I put my mask back in place and pulled out my omni-pad. I tried not to boggle at the contract offers I was getting. It was a straight up bidding war, including furnished houses, years of leave after an initial stint, even minor titles.
Ruhal had helped me, even filled out the forms himself with less than a day for submission. He had also messaged me about the fine print of many of these absurd offers. The watch word was ‘Relocation’.
“They will send you back to Earth. Right now, you are the only human any department can recruit who might know an obscure piece of human signage or culture that got skipped during their culture crash courses, has the physical ability to keep up during an operation, and they can implicitly trust it is loyal to the Imperium.”
I scrolled past the too-good-to-be true proposals and to the ones without relocation, not ridiculously overpaying, but still plenty. Maybe I would follow Ka’tel into ICAD, or…
“We need to get moving!” Li’kele barked and I signaled for help again. This time Au’tes was ordered to help me with my gear. Now seeing her up close, she was definitely worse for wear. She smiled, but it was the kind of tired smile that had almost no energy in it. Her usual well controlled movements were slurred by exhaustion, and she leaned on me after buckling the packs on my shoulders, her own extra gear was a large backpack of energy cells.
“Damn, girl runs away in fear from combat selection after spending years in the militia and now plays valet. Bet whatever is underneath that suit is more would eat her alive if unmuzzled,” I overheard one of the combat applicants snicker. Au’tes winced, just a bit, at the barb from her former youth militia group.
“Lift your visor.” I said. It was dumb, it was really dumb, but I wanted to give her at least a reminder of what she had that they didn’t. Au’tes had a flicker of confusion, but flipped up the visor on her suit’s helmet.
I lifted my mask just enough to kiss her. It was honestly a gross kiss and wished I could have brushed my teeth beforehand. But when I dropped my mask down there was the manic Au’tes again, full of energy and gusto. I looked past her to the shocked combat applicants. I put my finger to roughly where my mouth was and whispered in my distorted voice, “No one will believe you.”
Au’tes brought her visor down and squeezed my hand for a second longer before leaning in close “Thank you for letting me know you still exist under there.

Reqellia:

The dirt trail up the hill was easy enough for my legs. I stayed in the same general area as Klein, but with my augments I already had his pinpoint location and medical data, I could even access his helmet camera. I didn’t want to get in his way while the instructors gave him snap secondary tasks to complete on our journey up to the outpost location.
I kept myself entertained by listening in on the comms chatter that I could pick up on the wargames going on about us at large. I had enjoyed playing the no-holds-barred opposing force when I was a commando on rotation here.
Right now there was a particularly fun little drama going on up north of our location. A mechanized assault unit tasked with taking out an anti-orbital battery got one of their exos stuck in mud because of a poor assessment of the ground composition. The armored crane they had first ordered to pull it out was now also stuck.
The Lieutenant was trying to get an exception to the wargame rules to bring a drop ship in to pull them both out, but the higher-ups told her to figure it out. The whole point of these wargames was to discover how things could go wrong. The Lieutenant tried to pull title to overrule them, only to get a nasty conversation from her commander.
A small beep from my monitoring systems told me Klein’s heart rate had slowed and I looked up to see the front of the supply train had been ordered to halt. Up ahead was the “fort,” a clearing on top of the hill with nothing but some half buried holes.
The Kortika woman got to the front of the formation and gave her orders. “Listen up! Combat selection is going to set up a perimeter while the Auxiliary builds us a structure safe enough to hold during an assault. All weapons are going ‘live’, but for those in the non-combat teams I will again warn you to only use them in self-defense. If you wanted to shoot people for a living you should have signed up for it.”
I tried not to flinch as I watched Klein and his compatriots start to offload all the gear they had packed this morning and attempt their best effort at setting it up with basic instructions from Li’kele and the manuals that came with the equipment. Just another test to see how the applicants would handle the technical situation.
At this point they were at their limit, physically and mentally exhausted as they tried to bolt frames together, wrestle antennas, install expandable barriers, and put together the foundations of a forward operating base.
Klein had all but given up on the counter battery system he schlepped here and handed that responsibility off to a Senthe Boy while speaking a rough northern dialect of Satenthia. The boy was more than happy to talk to someone who knew even a few words of his native tongue.
I opened a small window on my HUD and watched with amusement as the early contract offers rose and fell. Klein’s offer from naval engineering, already paltry compared to other, more suitable jobs, dropped to barely above standard. Intelligence and Law branches, however, rocketed upwards again.
I could almost hear the recruiter’s comments as the numbers and terms changed. Does not have familiarity with Shil military equipment. Comfortable with speaking multiple languages. Works well with multiple species.
I watched them work. Klein, in usual Klein fashion, pushed himself. After getting the counter battery laser hooked up, he volunteered for other physically demanding tasks. Pile driving in the foundations that hold the columns of the structure. The rhythmic thump gave me ghost aches when I had done the same thing out in the periphery while getting pot shotted by roaches.
I shook my head. It was going to be another rough night for him by the way he was bunching up his shoulders as he braced the handheld pile driver. Thankfully, tomorrow he’d be home and with an appointment with Cee who might force him on bed rest for the next month.
I started to chuckle at the thought of how protective Itaro was going to get after taking one look at Klein. I came back from deployment once missing three fingers from a plasma grenade and Bahtet waited on me and foot, wouldn’t so much as let me handle a kitchen knife until they were replaced later that month.
A few stray red beams were thrown our way, even a flash bang or two from the commandos tasked with harassing us came and went. As the ramparts of the temporary base were finished, I took up station on the second level to oversee the whole complex. Klien was working with a combat team, helping them put a second defense line in. They had driven stakes into the ground to support parallel knee-high thermocast plates with an arms-length gap between them, which Klein was filling in with dirt to act as a wall and platform for the heavy, crew served lasgun.
I was thankful there would be a shuttle to pick us up soon. I played the opposing force for Selection a few times, and I still remembered the script. Right now we were in a lull that would last until dusk, then at least three full commando teams would assault the base. The battle would be made as realistic and demanding as possible with creeping dark to add to the complexity.
The Selection team would always be wiped out, but it was how they performed against overwhelming odds that would shift the contract offers that last bit before everything was locked in place.
I heard the whirr of a counter battery system swiveling around, and then the crackle of it firing. I turned to see what it was aiming for but all I saw was a cloud of smoke . Then a fast moving object came through the cloud before I heard the crackle again and another exploded .
Blanketing everything in a tar-black fog .
My stomach dropped. This wasn’t the cadre commando team, and they were attacking too soon. I got on the comms with Li’kele “HALT, HALT, HALT! We need to stop the exercise!”
I got a crackle on the comms. Then Li’kele’s voice came in that terrifyingly calm voice used to keep control of a combat operation. “I can’t get a signal out, I need a report on the situation.”
Instead of trying to explain I sent her my video feed as I jumped down from the ramparts and started to sprint for Klein. I needed to get him out of here , but I hadn’t had time to prime my augments. I started the cold power cycle as I cursed myself for letting my guard down.
I was already too late . I watched as our own counter-battery laser weapons were used against us, acting as the triggers for each smoke grenade engulfing Klein’s team right in front of me, their signal dropping right out. I got a response from Li’kele that alleviated at least some of my terror. “Dammit! It’s the 171 st Raiders from the wargames, they mus-”
And then I was enveloped in darkness and static. The smoke was so thick I could only see a few paces away in all spectrums. I tried my internal radio and….
Nothing. I was alone and with nothing to guide me, and then I saw to the right of me a few weak beams of red, and then a ball of light of a simulated explosion. I let my gnawing panic subside and walked their way with a observers flag in my hand. I was practically on top of them before I saw the combat selection team that had been ‘killed’, their frowning faces and hands up as they sat there grumbling.
The Raiders appeared soon after. A four woman squad. Two Helkam, a Rakiri, and a Shil’vati hefting a large antiquated grenade launcher. I called out “Do you have a way to call a emergency stop to the battle?”
The squad leader responded. “Did someone get seriously injured? I can fire off a flare and our medic teams will be here to extract them.”
“No! This is Selection, we aren’t supposed to be part of the Wargames.” I argued, but she waved me off.
“We got orders to assault the base up here. Trust me, our commander is mighty pissed at getting tasked with a frontal assault on the youngest and toughest the Imperium has to offer, with adding insult to injury if we lose to kids. That’s why we broke out the smoke screen.”
“One of the Selection members is the first of their species. Higher ups want them monitored at all times,” I partly lied.
The gears whirred and the team lead brought her weapon up again, eyes a little wider. “ Blue Eyes is here? Shit, girls ready up and head on a swivel!”
The team reformed in a circle facing outwards, a tactic specifically meant for ambushes and roach suicide drones. I stood there, confused. “Blue eyes?”
The team lead started to move into the smoke again, but explained, her eyes darting around. “Yeah, the freaky creature in the mask, toyed with an unmanned Exo before annihilating it with a shipcutter! A close quarters combat specialist with heavy armor and a real mean streak . You’re telling me they’re loose in a forest with enough concealment to sneak up on us and tear us to shreds? Ma’am the only ones in immediate danger are us. ”

This was originally posted to shortstories
The frigid wind whipped across Marko's face as he trudged through the knee-deep snow. His numb fingers clutching the straps of his backpack. The storm had hit three days ago, and he was no closer to finding shelter than when he'd started. His food supplies were dwindling. The cold was seeping into his bones like a relentless, icy specter.
"Should've listened to the weatherman," Marko muttered, his chapped lips going numb. He squinted against the blinding white landscape, searching for any sign of life. Any glimmer of hope.
As he pushed forward, his mind wandered to the events that had led him here. The hiking trip had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. It was a chance to escape the suffocating reality of his failing marriage and dead-end job. He'd packed light, assuming he'd be back in a few days. Now, as the storm raged on, he realized the gravity of his mistake.
A dark shape appeared on the horizon, breaking the monotony of the endless white. Marko's heart leaped, and he quickened his pace. He ignored the burning in his lungs and the numbness in his limbs. As he drew closer, the shape resolved into a small, dilapidated cabin. The roof sagging under the weight of the snow.
Marko stumbled to the door, his hands shaking as he fumbled with the latch. To his surprise, it opened, revealing a dusty interior cast in shadow. He stepped inside, grateful for the reprieve from the biting wind.
The cabin was sparse, with a single room containing a rickety table, a chair, and a small fireplace. Marko dropped his backpack and moved to the fireplace. His eyes widened when he saw the pile of dry firewood stacked beside it.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice hoarse from disuse. "Is anyone here?"
Silence answered him, broken only by the howling of the wind outside. Marko shrugged and set to work building a fire, his fingers clumsy and uncooperative. After several attempts, a small flame flickered to life, casting a warm glow across the room.
As the fire grew, Marko's gaze fell on the table, where a piece of paper lay, weighted down by a small, rusted key. He picked up the note, his brow furrowing as he read the words scrawled in a shaky hand: "You'll need this. Trust me."
Marko turned the key over in his palm, a sense of unease growing in the pit of his stomach. He glanced around the cabin, aware of how isolated he was. Miles from civilization in a raging blizzard.
A soft scratching sound drew his attention to the far wall, where a small door was set into the wood. Marko approached it, the key heavy in his hand. He fitted it into the lock, and with a soft click, the door swung open, revealing a narrow passageway.
Marko hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. The passage was dark, the air heavy with the scent of earth and decay. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back, to barricade the door and wait out the storm. But something else, a whisper in the back of his mind, urged him forward.
He took a deep breath and stepped into the passage, the darkness enveloping him like a shroud. The tunnel seemed to go on forever, twisting and turning like the gnarled roots of an ancient tree. Marko's breathing echoed in the confined space. It mingled with the soft drip of water and the scurrying of unseen creatures.
As he was about to turn back, the passage opened into a small chamber, lit by a flickering torch set into the wall. In the center of the room stood a stone pedestal, upon which rested a small, ornate box.
Marko approached the pedestal, his hand trembling as he reached for the box. As his fingers brushed the cool metal, a voice spoke from the shadows, making him whirl around in surprise.
"I wondered when you'd arrive," the voice said, low and rasping. A figure stepped into the light, an old man with a long, white beard and piercing blue eyes. "I've been waiting for you, Marko."
Marko stared at the man, his mind reeling. "How do you know my name?" he asked.
The old man smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I know many things," he said, moving to stand beside Marko. "I know why you're here, and I know what you seek."
He gestured to the box, his gnarled fingers brushing the intricate carvings. "This box contains the key to your survival," he said, his voice taking on a grave tone. "The path ahead is treacherous, filled with trials that will test your mind, body, and spirit."
Marko swallowed hard, his mouth dry. "What kind of trials?" he asked, his voice trembling.
The old man shook his head, his eyes filled with a deep sadness. "I cannot say," he replied, his voice soft. "But know this, Marko. The choices you make from this moment on will determine not only your fate but the fate of all those you hold dear."
With that, the old man stepped back, fading into the shadows as if he had never been there at all. Marko stood alone in the chamber, the box heavy in his hands. The weight of the old man's words settling on his shoulders like a burden.
He took a deep breath and opened the box, his heart pounding in his chest. Inside, nestled on a bed of velvet, lay a small, golden compass, its needle spinning. Marko lifted it from the box, feeling a strange warmth emanating from the metal.
As he watched, the needle slowed, coming to rest on a single point. North. The direction of home, of safety, of all the things he had left behind.
Marko closed his eyes, feeling a sense of calm wash over him. He knew the path ahead would be difficult, that the trials the old man spoke of would push him to his limits. But he also knew that he had no choice but to face them head-on. Fight for his survival and for the chance to make things right.
With a determined nod, Marko slipped the compass into his pocket. He turned back to the passage, ready to face whatever lay ahead. The storm outside raged on. Inside, a flicker of hope burned bright, guiding him forward into the unknown.

I (f39) and my husband (m40) have been together for 20 years and we generally have a pretty good relationship. We live in a one-bedroom apartment in a small complex (the Bayou) just outside of town in Baton Rouge. I work as an AP clerk at a small insurance company and my husband is the deli manager at a grocery store (not Albertsons but about that size).
Anyway, we were having dinner one night at our small metal dining room table. The AC wasn’t keeping up again and we were both kind of hot and tired from the day. We were eating some almost-expired Cajun salad he had gotten at a discount (one of the perks of his job!) and he gets a real sour look on his face. “Got a bad piece of gator?“ I asked, I knew it wasn’t that but I was just trolling him a little. I’ve known him long enough to know he only gets that look on his face after talking to some customer about politics while they’re buying a couple of pounds crawfish etoufee or he reads something on Reddit (it was the second thing).
No, he says, and starts rambling on about women cheating and DNA tests and making sure the children are his. I put my fork down and looked at him because this was kind of incoherent, even for him. “Cleteus,” (not his real name), “what are you on about? We don’t have kids, what, would we DNA test the dogs? I hate to tell you but I’m not their mom, and I hope you’re not their dad.” Our dogs Crawdad and Gator (their real names) just looked up for a second and then put their heads down because they were hot, too.
“Brandee” (not my real name), he says and his face is getting a little red, “you know what I mean! You know how women are!“ And this is where he takes it to 11 to press his point, “I mean if I ever came home and found you in bed with another man, I’d shoot you both, grab my bug out bag and disappear to a country with no extradition before the blood was dry. You know I have a bug out bag!”
I should have just let the hurricane pass, but it was hot, and the whole thing was just so stupid and I had had enough. “I don’t know how women are! Is that something you read on Reddit, or did you make that up yourself?“ He sputtered a little bit and I pressed the point, “how would you get to one of these magical no extradition countries? Just go to the airport and buy a plane ticket? You don’t even have a passport, let alone a visa, how would that work? And you keep talking about your bug out bag, I want to see what’s in it.”
[As a note, if you live along the coast, a bug out bag isn’t a bad idea. Tropical storms and hurricanes can be really bad and last year was the drought and we had wild fires! So having some essentials in a bag if you have to leave quickly is a good idea.]
Clete went and pulled his bug out bag from under our bed. It was a camouflage “tactical” backpack he had picked up at Walmart. He set it in the center of the table. I had never really thought about what was in it, but I was curious now so I opened the bag up. Cletus started to protest but just watched as I pulled out the clothes from the top. There were couple of worn t-shirts and a pair of jeans that definitely didn’t fit him anymore. Underneath the clothes was an old promotional first aid kit from my work that was from 2008 and an envelope with a dollar and a couple of quarters in it. He said there had been more money in it, but he’d borrowed it out when he needed money for beer.
There was some more stuff like random dried food packs (beets! And all very expired), a couple bottles of yellowish looking water, an old rusty pocket knife, some rope? It was all pretty anti-climactic. But there was one box still at the bottom of the bag. When I pulled it out he tried to grab it out of my hands, but I kept it away from him and opened the plastic lid. It was Yu-Gi-Oh cards, and not even the good ones! Just doubles of the mids from his collection. “You have Yu-Gi-Oh cards in your bug out bag?“
I couldn’t hold it in anymore and started laughing so hard I had to sit down.
Then Clete did grab the box out of my hand and put everything back in the bag. And then he put the bag back under the bed and played Minecraft or Roblox or whatever for the rest of the night. He’s been kind of cool to me this week.
So, AITAH for laughing at his bug out bag?
SOURCE

Seriously. Dark fluid backpacks feel great to use. Good distance on launch, it releases a small shockwave and damages enemies (and your fellow helldivers) when you jump, and the cooldown is short.
Would it be busted on a regular map? Possibly, but this directionally feels like how AH should look to make a strategem feel good to use.
Go jump around with dark fluid and then go into a match with the regular jump pack. I think you'll find the fun factor on dark fluid is fantastic and the jump pack just feels bad to use.
A note: I'm not saying the current jump pack doesn't have it's uses. It's our only mobility strategem. It's not devoid of fun, it just feels like a little toot launching you into the air after playing with dark fluid.

Hinge has positioned itself as a long-term relationship app, so that means your profile needs to convince her you’re true Boyfriend Material!
Sound like a tall order? Don't worry. We use Hinge on a daily basis, and have been since the app launched in 2012. You're about to benefit from our thousands of hours of direct user experience!
You see, we represent our clients on Hinge - optimizing their profiles, selecting their photo lineups, and sending messages on their behalf. We analyze everything, so we know what approaches work, what to avoid, and which strategies attract the best matches.
Thanks to our evidence-based approached, these 7 Hinge profile tips for men will make your profile irresistible! You’ll also get 11 examples of the best Hinge answers.
Let’s start with the main attraction…
Hinge Profile Tip #1: Aim For Perfection With Your Primary Photo
Don’t worry - it’s easier than it sounds! A team of European neuroscientists identified a checklist of what attributes combine to make the most attractive profile picture:
Eye contact is particularly important, as lack of it has a negative effect on her first impression of you. When she can look you straight in the eyes, you seem inherently more trustworthy and genuinely likeable.
That means sunglasses are not ideal for dating photos, and you don’t want to hide your eyes behind your hair or a Snapchat filter either.
Hinge Profile Tip #2: Embrace Quality Control
You know who gets excited about low-quality graphics? No one.
So when choosing your other 5 Hinge photos or videos, make sure they’re all high-quality images. You want your Hinge lineup to look intentional and curated, not like you pulled random images off your Facebook or phone.
Here’s the thing - when looking at images, human brains are wired to prefer simplicity and clarity.
When a picture has a high cognitive workload, it means your brain has to work harder to interpret what’s going on in the frame. The subject matter becomes less attractive the more complex it is.
Simple = attractive.
If your picture is blurry, has harsh highlights and dark shadows, or “artistic” effects that obscure your face, the odds she’s going to “like” or comment on it are drastically reduced - and that means you probably won’t match with her.
While artistic effects that complicate your photos are not good, using a black and white filter can increase the odds you’ll get some “likes” - by 106%. Try applying one to a photo or two in your lineup!
Hinge Profile Tip #3: Put Down The Selfie Stick
Selfies are problematic on Hinge for several reasons:

1. Selfies are a whopping 40% less likely to get “likes.” That number rockets up to 90% if it’s a bathroom selfie. Don’t go there.

2. Selfies are less attractive than non-selfies. A recent study compared two photos - a selfie, and a photo of that same person taken by someone else. The selfie version was perceived as less attractive and more narcissistic. Don’t cultivate that vibe on Hinge!

3. They don’t inspire comments. Which photo do you think will entice more comments and “likes”:

Dalmatians for the win!
Photos where you’re doing something are especially effective on Hinge, as it makes it easy for your match to start a conversation by asking about whatever is going on in the image.
Per their internal data, sports photos are the most popular when it comes to “likes,” and activity photos in general ranked highly.
Coming in dead last were pics where you’re posing with someone who could be an ex. A full 98% of singles said that was a turn off.
Hinge Profile Tip #4: Stay On The Bright Side
Now let’s talk about your profile text. The best Hinge prompts to answer let you highlight on an attractive trait or two in a positive way.
Remember, she’s looking for Boyfriend Material, so why waste space with negativity?
Take, for instance, the “Pet Peeves” prompt. It’s challenging to make your answer sound anything other than whiny, pessimistic, and overly bothered by the minutiae of daily life.
Plus, if it’s a shared pet peeve, chances are she’ll feel a flash of annoyance when she reads it - and guess who she’s going to associate that feeling with? (Spoiler alert: you).
You also want to avoid describing what she may perceive as a negative character trait or flaw:
With over 80 prompts to choose from and only 3 available slots, she’s going to wonder why you took up valuable space with what’s essentially a reason not to “like” you.
To decide which are the best Hinge profile questions for you to answer, take a minute and write down a list of things you bring to the table that you think your ideal woman would be looking for in a guy.
Stable career, physically fit, interesting hobbies, family oriented, able to afford vacations, responsible enough to care for a dog… things of that nature that illustrate why you’d be a particularly good catch.
Then compare that list to the available prompts, and choose the ones that best let you highlight a few of those traits. Simple!
Here are 4 great Hinge profile examples, plus insight into why they work:
If you’re still stuck on what to write in your Hinge profile, try using one of these creative Hinge answers that are general enough to fit anyone:
A blast-from-the-past fashion trend makes for a great conversation starter since most women can relate to it.
While these examples don’t necessarily highlight a desirable personality trait or hobby, they will bring a smile to her face.
Humor is a great strategy in a dating profile, if you can pull it off. Women can’t help but be drawn to funny guys - it’s the way her brain is wired.
Hinge Profile Tip #5: Make One Of The Prompts About Her
Marketing yourself in an appealing, intriguing way is the goal of your Hinge profile.
But including a tidbit about her is an effective strategy.
According to research, 70% of your dating profile should describe you, but 30% of it should describe what type of person you’re looking for. That’s the most attractive combination.
As you’ve already learned, keep your answer positive.
Describing what you don’t want could have the opposite effect, as you may end up sounding picky and judgemental. Or worse, bitter from your last relationship imploding.
Hinge don'ts
Instead, focus on hobbies you’d like to have in common with your perfect match, or attributes that are important to you in a relationship.
Here are 3 great ways to answer the Hinge profile questions:
Describing non-physical attributes implies you're looking for a non-superficial relationship, and mentioning a hobby you'd like to have in common gives her some insight into your personality.
These good prompt answers give her some insight into what dating you might be like, and also imply that keeping in shape is important to you (which is always an attractive quality).
Mentioning a great first date idea in your Hinge answer is a subtle way to make her envision what an hour or two with you might include.
In fact, it’s so effective that according to founder Justin McCleod, answering this prompt got the most dates for users in London:
What works in London will probably work wherever you are as well, making “I know the best spot in town for” one of the best Hinge prompts for guys to answer if it's one of the available options for you.
Hinge Profile Tip #6: Make Every Word Count
The shorter a dating app profile is, the more impact each individual word has. To create the best possible first impression, you want every word in your profile to evoke positive vibes.
Stay away from words that cause a strong negative reaction, like violence, swearing, drugs and weapons. Those can have a ripple effect that will diminish your overall attractiveness.
And since this is Hinge, not Tinder, you’ll definitely want to keep it classy.
don't do this on Hinge
Even if you’re on Hinge just to hook up, don’t advertise your intentions in your profile. And consider switching to another dating app - Hinge really isn’t the app for that.
Here a few more Hinge “Don’ts” to keep in mind:
Repeat yourself. She’s reading a max of 450 characters, which is even less than a Tinder bio. Repetition is really going to stand out. If you talk about how much you love hiking in every Hinge answer, she’s apt to think you’re a one note kind of guy.
Make grammapunctuation/spelling errors. There’s not a lot of written material feeding into that all-important first impression, so little mistakes can have a big effect. Plus, surveyed singles said bad sex was preferable to bad grammar (if they had to choose), so it’s important to get it right.
Give “non” answers. You may think it’s the height of wit to answer Hinge prompts with statements like “I’m looking for… a better answer to this question,” but that’s likely to backfire on you. If she thinks you’re not taking online dating seriously, she probably won’t invest any time in getting to know you.
Reference past relationships. If you’re in your late 20s or 30s, odds are high you’ve got at least one significant relationship in your past. Whether the breakup was good or bad, your Hinge profile is not the place to rehash it.
Hinge Profile Tip #7: Reconsider Your “Dealbreakers”
When you set up your Hinge profile, you have the option to designate match preferences as “dealbreakers.”
That's a great feature for singles seeking long-term relationships, as it eliminates the need to ask those personal questions during the first few dates.
When you specify something as a dealbreaker, you won’t see profiles of people who don’t fit that category, regardless of how many other categories they do fit. (If you don't specify something as a dealbreaker, you may see profiles of singles who fall slightly outside of your ideal preferences.)
Free members have the usual filters like age range, distance and height. If you’re a Hinge+ or HingeX member, you have access to additional filters like children, family plans, education, and politics.
Take a look at any categories you deemed a “Dealbreaker” and make sure they truly are.
For instance, if your match is 5’7” instead of 5’8” or taller, is that truly important in the grand scheme of things? Or if she’s 41 instead of under 40?
If you’re too exclusive with your filtering, you may miss out on a great match you would have really clicked with, despite a small divergence from your “ideal type.”

The day it all happened I was in a bar. It was 11.30am, and it was a Tuesday. I'd left my girlfriend and went for a quick drink, or so I'd told her. I'd been feeling down a lot recently. She was always busy with her friends or work, and never had time for me. I'm not trying to excuse my actions, but I needed something to make myself feel good. I had planned on going home early, but that was before I saw her. She was sitting alone at the end of the bar, sipping her white wine. We started talking and she made me laugh. I can't remember how long we were talking, but it seemed like ages. At the time, I'd forgotten about the rest of the world, I was so caught up in our conversation.
Then it happened.
All of a sudden, the bartender dropped a glass, shattering it across the floor. "Watch it!" he shouted at a customer, who'd accidentally bumped into him. Then, he threw the towel he'd been holding onto the counter, and went over to the customer and punched him in the face. It all happened so quickly, I didn't have time to react. The customer stood up, his nose bleeding. He walked towards the bartender and hit him back, knocking him into the wall. A full on fight ensued, as two other men from the crowd joined in. They were throwing punches, and pushing each other to the ground.
The woman I'd been talking to looked scared, and started backing away from the bar.
"What the hell?" she said, her voice wavering.
I stood up, and held her hand. "Come on, let's get out of here."
I led her out of the bar and back to the street. She had a look of terror on her face. I had to calm her down, she looked like she was going to have a panic attack.
"It's ok, I'm here." I told her. "Are you okay?"
She took a deep breath and nodded.
"What was that all about?" she asked.
I shrugged. "I have no idea. Maybe it's stress or something. There's a lot of that going around right now."
Just then, the sound of sirens rang through the air. People were walking quickly by, looking at their phones, trying to find out what was happening. We followed the crowd and ended up in front of a large electronics store. It was closed.
"Do you have your phone?" she asked me.
I checked my pockets, but it wasn't there. I'd left it at the bar.
"Damn, no. I forgot it."
"Shit." she said, and pulled out her own.
The screen was flashing and beeping, and the words "Emergency Broadcast" were displayed.
"Oh no." she said, her face turning white.
I peered over her shoulder at the screen. It read:
Attention citizens. There has been a breach in the security at the local military base. If you see anyone acting strangely or displaying symptoms of the following, report it to the authorities immediately.
Symptoms:

• Bleeding or bruising from the mouth and nose
  
• Loss of consciousness
  
• Increased heart rate
  
• Increased body temperature
  
• Hallucinations
  
• Involuntary movement
  

"What does that mean?" I asked her.
"I have no idea." she replied, her voice shaking.
Suddenly, a scream came from the end of the street. I turned and saw a man running down the sidewalk. He was covered in blood, and screaming at the top of his lungs. A group of people was following him, chasing after him.
"Stay back!" he yelled. "It's not safe! They're coming!"
He ran around a corner and the crowd disappeared.
"He said they're coming. Who's coming?" asked the woman.
"I have no idea. We need to get to the police or someone to help us. Let's get somewhere secure."
We started walking towards the police station when a large group of people appeared around the corner, running towards us. They were screaming and shouting. They were completely out of their minds. The street was filled with men and women, young and old. Some were in bloody clothes, while others were completely naked.
"Run!" the woman screamed.
I grabbed her arm and we both ran for cover. We rounded the corner and started sprinting down the street, dodging past people and cars. Everything was a blur as we ran for our lives. After what felt like an eternity, we reached the police station. The front door was open and a small group of people were running inside. We followed them inside and found ourselves in a crowded lobby. The officer at the desk was yelling into the phone.
"Yes! There's rioting! Send backup now!"
Another officer came out from behind the desk and shouted over the chaos.
"Everyone needs to calm down! The military is sending a convoy to help us secure the city! Just hold tight!"
But people weren't listening. They continued to yell and scream, fighting against each other to get out of the station. I noticed a few people had bruises and cuts from the crowd.
I felt someone grab my arm. It was the woman I'd been with. She looked at me and shook her head.
"I'm scared." she said, her voice trembling.
Then she fell to the ground, crying. I reached down and held her in my arms.
"It's gonna be alright. I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you."
People were still pushing and shoving their way towards the exit, oblivious to us. I held onto her tightly, not wanting to lose her in the chaos. The sirens outside got louder, until they stopped altogether. I looked through the windows and saw a convoy of military vehicles pull up outside. Soldiers rushed into the station, their guns drawn.
They began shouting orders to the crowd.
"Calm the fuck down! Everyone calm down and leave through the rear entrance! This is not a request, this is an order! Anyone caught rioting or acting violently will be shot on sight! Go through the back, through the alleys, to the designated safe area! No more resistance, this is not a threat, this is a fact, now move, move, move!"
The crowd slowly filed out of the station, and we joined them.
My ears were ringing from the sirens and gunshots, but I did my best to keep moving. There were so many people, and we were forced to keep close together as the crowd funneled down a narrow alleyway. The city was in chaos. Smoke rose from buildings and car alarms blared. Gunshots and screams were everywhere.
We followed the throng of people down the alley until they reached a roadblock.
"This is as far as we can go." a soldier said. "Follow the crowd down this way and find a shelter. Don't wander around on your own, stay in groups if you can. Stay safe."
I looked at the woman and nodded. "C'mon, let's keep moving."
The crowd parted and we pushed through to the front. We soon found ourselves on a road full of burnt out cars and debris. The roadblock was full of soldiers, who directed us towards a football stadium.
The smell of smoke hung in the air as we walked through the streets. I wondered what could've started it all, and why it had ended so quickly.
When we reached the stadium it was full of people, all looking for their loved ones. I scanned the faces, hoping to see my girlfriend. I looked back towards the entrance and saw an old man and woman being helped down from a trolley bus. The lady had a bandage around her head, and her husband had blood on his face. The lady was clutching a broken arm. They hobbled their way slowly to a makeshift aid station. A soldier guided them towards the rest of the wounded.
"Grandma! Grandpa!" a small girl cried out and ran to them. She threw her arms around the woman and hugged her tightly.
A feeling of relief rushed over me, I was so happy they were alive. But at the same time, I couldn't help but think about my own girlfriend. Where was she?
People were sitting on the ground, crying. Others, stood, shell-shocked, looking around. A few people were trying to make small talk, despite everything. They were looking for ways to take their minds off the situation, to cope.
A bus was parked in the middle of the park and there were lines of people waiting in front of it.
"Are you hungry? Do you have any food?" a woman asked me, pushing her child in front of me.
"No, sorry, I don't," I replied, surprised at the desperation in her voice. "I don't have anything."
I looked at the queue, wondering if that was where the line was to get some free food. A woman in a white apron behind a stand marked "First Aid" tried to calm the crowd, raising her voice above the din.
"Everyone, please! Settle down, the military will have more help coming shortly! But for now we're out of supplies and the situation will only worsen if you don't control yourselves!"
Just then, another truck pulled up on the edge of the field. It had a green cross painted on the side of it and the word "Medicine" on the doors. My heart swelled with hope as several officers jumped out, carrying duffel bags of equipment, and headed straight to the medical tent.
"It's the supplies, everyone! It's the supplies they promised us!" someone in the back yelled.
The crowd began pushing and shoving each other again, and the woman and her kid that had spoken to me before was lost in the wave of people running forward, trying to get to the medicine. I tried to find them, to help, but I couldn't see them. There were so many people crowding around the truck, scrambling for the parcels of food and water and blankets that had spilled out.
I looked around at the field and at all the frightened and desperate people. Some were hurt and injured. Others were shell-shocked. Children were crying and their parents didn't know how to comfort them.
I knew there had been an outbreak of some sort, that the military had been evacuating the city. What I didn't understand is why the city had come to such a state of disarray in just one day.
A gunshot rang out and people screamed. It was followed by another, then several more. I ducked and covered my head. People around me started running, but I could see them lying on the ground. More gunshots and screams filled the air. Then, there was an eerie silence.
I stood up and slowly turned around, taking in the carnage. Bodies littered the ground, some missing limbs. I stepped carefully over the lifeless bodies of the fallen and made my way towards the exit of the stadium.
As I neared the gate I saw a group of soldiers guarding it. One was checking a man for weapons while another was wrapping a tourniquet around his leg. The other three were standing by a stack of rifles, preparing to re-load. I looked closer at the man with the bandaged leg and recognized him as the soldier that was on the news not long ago, telling us that the rioters had been dealt with and it was now safe to return to our homes. He had also assured us that the city would get back to normal soon.
"Clear!" the other soldier yelled, checking his weapon before handing it back to its owner. The soldier limped out the gate and was gone.
I tried to run, but my feet felt heavy and sluggish. The soldiers were getting closer, their guns drawn. They were shouting at me, their voices faint in my ears.
I turned to try and flee when a shot rang out and pain exploded in the back of my head.

• End -

Man…. Jenny was so hard to like, through every single season. That’s my kind way of putting it lol. I hate that I am saying this, but I am happy how the writers left us a tiny bit of hope for her (even if it felt like an afterthought…). It took five/six whole years for her to evolve, to realize that being good is more fulfilling than being a brat. I’m glad that she gave Gina that introduction to the headmaster at the school. Small, yet huge step for Jenny. I think that Jenny watching Gina turn into that mom that she never got to be (and Gina calling her terrible), despite being in a mom group, made Jenny realize that she actually really fricken sucked.
Side note for Jenny’s storyline: I HATE that Ian got written off. I would have loved to see his storyline play out, but I understand the writers POV, it’s Workin’ MOMS, a show about women, even if the women are or act icky at some points in time. This is a woman-forward show so I think that’s why the storyline got shifted back to Jenny. His story was still cool.
Kate was my favorite of all time, through every season. Personally, I couldn’t have done what she did, with her trials and tribulations, but she did ALL THE THINGS!! A lot of people talked about Charlie and Ella being “ignored” in the last two seasons, did we really care about watching her juggle play dates and childcare?? Personally I didn’t, it was more entertaining watching Kate juggle being a successful PR professional, going through an altering chapter in her marriage (Nathan and mean nanny), finding out she was pregnant with Ella AFTER finding out she had premature menopause, and wait, accepting a teenage stepchild into her life, AND starting and becoming successful in her own agency??! Badass.
I wish Frankie wasn’t written off the show. She was an amazing example of what a mid-life crisis looks like. I also feel like her problems got overshadowed by the problems of the other original main characters. She was the eclectic one of the group, so it probably would have helped viewers that did not relate to the other characters feel validated with their feelings and life events. This also could have been a great opportunity to open a discussion about mental health, in a serious manor, which we saw when she went to the rehab/mental health center, but I feel like it was more about sex than addressing the issues she was facing that caused her divorce.
Anne… Alice was a trip. I also know what it’s like to be a teenage girl. I think Anne’s character and her entire storyline was meant to teach us what generational trauma looks like, even if it’s not seen as abuse. At the end, when Seamus tells Anne, “you know, she’s got a good thing going,” (Anne devoutly caring about her daughter), it helped her finally forgive her own maternal relationship and let Alice go. Idk. Still trying to figure Anne out. Our girl needs a therapist lol!!
Sloan: mixed feelings. I wish we got to see flashbacks from her experience of becoming a mother to her “niece” (??). I do, however, love her evolution in the short period of time she was on the show. I absolutely love that she let her guard down with her s/o, but it would have been interesting seeing her manage life as a single mother who chose a different path in becoming a mother.
OVERALL: this is definitely going to be a show that is going to be in my “comfort show” rotation. Not every season was meant to be dramatic. This show, to me, was a wonderful and realistic homage to womanhood, and all of the annoying, gruesome, stupid, yet calm, growing and happy moments that happen in between. 12/10!

The frigid wind whipped across Marko's face as he trudged through the knee-deep snow. His numb fingers clutching the straps of his backpack. The storm had hit three days ago, and he was no closer to finding shelter than when he'd started. His food supplies were dwindling. The cold was seeping into his bones like a relentless, icy specter.
"Should've listened to the weatherman," Marko muttered, his chapped lips going numb. He squinted against the blinding white landscape, searching for any sign of life. Any glimmer of hope.
As he pushed forward, his mind wandered to the events that had led him here. The hiking trip had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. It was a chance to escape the suffocating reality of his failing marriage and dead-end job. He'd packed light, assuming he'd be back in a few days. Now, as the storm raged on, he realized the gravity of his mistake.
A dark shape appeared on the horizon, breaking the monotony of the endless white. Marko's heart leaped, and he quickened his pace. He ignored the burning in his lungs and the numbness in his limbs. As he drew closer, the shape resolved into a small, dilapidated cabin. The roof sagging under the weight of the snow.
Marko stumbled to the door, his hands shaking as he fumbled with the latch. To his surprise, it opened, revealing a dusty interior cast in shadow. He stepped inside, grateful for the reprieve from the biting wind.
The cabin was sparse, with a single room containing a rickety table, a chair, and a small fireplace. Marko dropped his backpack and moved to the fireplace. His eyes widened when he saw the pile of dry firewood stacked beside it.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice hoarse from disuse. "Is anyone here?"
Silence answered him, broken only by the howling of the wind outside. Marko shrugged and set to work building a fire, his fingers clumsy and uncooperative. After several attempts, a small flame flickered to life, casting a warm glow across the room.
As the fire grew, Marko's gaze fell on the table, where a piece of paper lay, weighted down by a small, rusted key. He picked up the note, his brow furrowing as he read the words scrawled in a shaky hand: "You'll need this. Trust me."
Marko turned the key over in his palm, a sense of unease growing in the pit of his stomach. He glanced around the cabin, aware of how isolated he was. Miles from civilization in a raging blizzard.
A soft scratching sound drew his attention to the far wall, where a small door was set into the wood. Marko approached it, the key heavy in his hand. He fitted it into the lock, and with a soft click, the door swung open, revealing a narrow passageway.
Marko hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. The passage was dark, the air heavy with the scent of earth and decay. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back, to barricade the door and wait out the storm. But something else, a whisper in the back of his mind, urged him forward.
He took a deep breath and stepped into the passage, the darkness enveloping him like a shroud. The tunnel seemed to go on forever, twisting and turning like the gnarled roots of an ancient tree. Marko's breathing echoed in the confined space. It mingled with the soft drip of water and the scurrying of unseen creatures.
As he was about to turn back, the passage opened into a small chamber, lit by a flickering torch set into the wall. In the center of the room stood a stone pedestal, upon which rested a small, ornate box.
Marko approached the pedestal, his hand trembling as he reached for the box. As his fingers brushed the cool metal, a voice spoke from the shadows, making him whirl around in surprise.
"I wondered when you'd arrive," the voice said, low and rasping. A figure stepped into the light, an old man with a long, white beard and piercing blue eyes. "I've been waiting for you, Marko."
Marko stared at the man, his mind reeling. "How do you know my name?" he asked.
The old man smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I know many things," he said, moving to stand beside Marko. "I know why you're here, and I know what you seek."
He gestured to the box, his gnarled fingers brushing the intricate carvings. "This box contains the key to your survival," he said, his voice taking on a grave tone. "The path ahead is treacherous, filled with trials that will test your mind, body, and spirit."
Marko swallowed hard, his mouth dry. "What kind of trials?" he asked, his voice trembling.
The old man shook his head, his eyes filled with a deep sadness. "I cannot say," he replied, his voice soft. "But know this, Marko. The choices you make from this moment on will determine not only your fate but the fate of all those you hold dear."
With that, the old man stepped back, fading into the shadows as if he had never been there at all. Marko stood alone in the chamber, the box heavy in his hands. The weight of the old man's words settling on his shoulders like a burden.
He took a deep breath and opened the box, his heart pounding in his chest. Inside, nestled on a bed of velvet, lay a small, golden compass, its needle spinning. Marko lifted it from the box, feeling a strange warmth emanating from the metal.
As he watched, the needle slowed, coming to rest on a single point. North. The direction of home, of safety, of all the things he had left behind.
Marko closed his eyes, feeling a sense of calm wash over him. He knew the path ahead would be difficult, that the trials the old man spoke of would push him to his limits. But he also knew that he had no choice but to face them head-on. Fight for his survival and for the chance to make things right.
With a determined nod, Marko slipped the compass into his pocket. He turned back to the passage, ready to face whatever lay ahead. The storm outside raged on. Inside, a flicker of hope burned bright, guiding him forward into the unknown.

(Note: This is a reply from a post requesting Meridia war stories. I felt it might deserve its own post. Edited lightly for grammar and details.)
So, there we were: a squad of random Helldivers who had never met before and had exactly 1 previous mission together. We all decided to switch things up and leave Botsville for Meridia. More bug issues needing a good stomping, nothing we haven't done before. Besides, we were all solid bot-deleting spreaders of Democracy. How hard could a few extra bugs be?
Oh Pride, which came before our fall (or Democracy Dive in this case). Things started off easy enough. We had no clue how the mission progressed, so we just puttered about until we figured out the need to call down the drill and fill it up. Spawns were thick, but nothing we hadn’t dealt with before. We discovered the joy that is the Dark Liquid backpack right before the first drill landed and wasted yet more time jumping like fools. Then we started the first drill, and were introduced to Meridia’s dark, bug-filled heart. Or “Bugevelon Creek” as I call it now.
The first breach was tough, but manageable. Then the next… and the next… and the next. They just didn’t stop. At first, we held strong – my autocannon put in work and Eagle-1 racked up absurd kills with napalm strikes. But still, they kept coming! My Autocannon ran out of ammunition, exposing a flank. Then our other turrets fell to the oncoming horde. Cooldowns began and ammo ran low. Despite this, we held. Then suddenly, a bug breach ON the Dark Liquid Drill! We did our best, but the drill was destroyed.
The drill was broken, but not our resolve. Again, we called in the drill and started the long process of holding against the insectoid tide. At long last, we met with success and completed the drill. But what’s this? TWO MORE TO GO?! Sweet Liberty this was going to be a long mission! We fought on, bravely carving a path of Freedom through the never-ending horde of non-democratic filth. One Helldiver brough a Patriot Exosuit and used its weaponry to good effect, clearing the way to our last 2 drill objectives. Eventually though, he ran out of ammunition and bravely added himself to the Wall of Martyrs by baiting a bile titan into a 500kg Eagle strike.
Around this time, one of our squad members began acting.... weird. He would walk, then suddenly snap back a few meters, then run in place for several seconds. I tried to reach him over the radio and received no response - so I made the only available choice and informed my ship's Democracy Officer that we had a slacker in our midst. This was a hard call to make, as this Helldiver had been doing very well and working as a solid teammate. Shortly after that, he was removed from battle and our quartet became a trio.
Finally, the end of the mission. All 3 drills complete. A minor earthquake, but nothing we hadn’t seen before on countless other battlefields. Oh, how wrong we were. We stood in shock and awe (for our designated 2.7 seconds of “scenery enjoyment” time) as the skies darkened and the air filled with the foul flapping of uncountable shriekers. We ­barely made it to the extract point. More names were added to the Wall of Martyrs as we fell, one by one and were replaced by fresh Helldivers. Life expectancy for a new Helldiver could be comfortably measured in seconds. Milliseconds, if you wanted a double-digit number.
I managed to reach the extract beacon first. I was knocked off over and over again by the relentless beat of chitinous wings. Eventually, I was able to complete the extract code by chain-stimming my tattered body and performed my best Democracy Dive into a small depression to escape the shriekers. I rolled in all directions, shooting until my primary dry. My trusty flamethrower had long since ran out of Spicy Juice. Our reinforcements were completely gone. My squamates had all honorably completed their final, gravest service and it was down to me. As I crawled to a sheer rock face to make my final defiant stand, a beacon of hope came from the heavens: a fourth Helldiver had joined our team and brought with him fresh reinforcements and stratagems. The squad was quickly brought down and we formed a coherent unit around extract - clearing the way for our savior bird, Pelican 1. As the pelican landed, we all sprinted toward our only path out of this foul, bug-infested hell. Diving, shooting, throwing grenades and in the end, PUNCHING our way to the boarding ramp. By some miracle of pure Democracy, we all made it in time, with undemocratic mandibles snapping at our heels.
We all learned a lot that first day. We learned that the bug menace cannot be underestimated, as fierce are the foes of Managed Democracy. We also learned that there is still no task too hard, dangerous or brutal that it can't be done by the Helldivers.

24M here, today was my last day in Japan on a vacation and I was seriously considering losing my virginity to a prostitute in Japan, where it’s semi legalised and there’s a whole red light district with attractive young women.
Despite walking up and down the street for almost an hour, with all the various girls beckoning for me to come in, I hesitated and could not make that final step to commit to it. I had the money prepared, I had specifically travelled to this part of town instead of exploring the other parts of the city, and I was quite certain I would do it the night before. But somehow, maybe I didn’t have the balls to do it or maybe there was some part of me that told me this wasn’t the way to do it, but i didn’t.
In my 24 years, I’ve only been in 1 relationship and we never really did anything sexual other than some touching, so I’ve honestly considered losing my virginity to a prostitute for a while now, just to get the monkey off my shoulder. Now i’m not sure how I even feel. Some part of me feels relieved that I didn’t just “give away” my virginity to someone i don’t have an emotional connection with, but some part of me also feels like this was such a wasted opportunity, as prostitution and illegal in my country and idk when i’ll get the opportunity like that again.
At the same time, there’s a small part of me that is hopeful. I’m hopeful that I can find someone that i love to lose my virginity, a part of me that’s inspired to do better and to improve myself. I guess today is the start of my self-improvement journey (for real this time) and it’s quite convenient that it’s basically the start of a new month at this point. I hope to update you all here at the end of the year with my progress, and hope things go well!

I had an abusive therapist in 2021 whom I recently, and so kindly, made a review page for on RateMDs (Canada); turns out a lot of people feel the exact same way about her, and one person claimed they are reporting her to the ethics board due to her verbal attacks.
My next therapist in 2022 was abusive, even worst than the last. It was so bad I ended up reporting to the ethics board, and the therapist is now doing coaching for the time being. If I had recorded the sessions it would have been game over for that therapist. It killed me for a long time that I didn't record the sessions.
I later sought out a new therapist; my friend warned me that the one I chose had "crazy eyes" and it was red flags all over (based on their PP profile). I should have listened.
This new therapist, Alex, almost killed me, again. He was awful. The second I walked in the room, I warily mentioned my past experience with the abusive therapist. In response, Alex started accusing me of having "destructive" behaviours - despite that I didn't tell him anything about my behaviours yet. I hadn't told him anything at all, just that I was anxious due to a past experience. I think he has issues with younger women.
I saw Alex from August 2023 - April 2024. In this time, he was immediately convinced of his own assumptions - never asked me to explain my experiences or thoughts or anything like that - confronted me constantly for things he pulled out of thin air (he would twist anything I said and then confront me for some alleged bad behaviour or cognitive distortion), and was entirely unwilling to try a different approach despite my (at first) gentle attempts to communicate that his approach wasn't working and was making me very unwell. I can gladly provide examples but it'd end up being a long ass post if I do that, so bear with me. He couldn't handle me even trying to talk about my past therapy abuse, because it was assumed to be my fault. Any dissent was "resistance" or rigidity. He refused to do trauma work despite that being the foundational problem.
He refused to let me "free associate" (psychodynamic therapy) because he was convinced it would cause me some wild regression (as if his current approach wasn't fucking me up). That is, he refused to let me speak my mind.
There was nothing for me to work with in the therapy. It wasn't grounded in reality; it was just all about how awful I am, yet not even in a way that was tangible - he could never explain himself. I was already hanging on a thread from my past abusive therapists, and I pretty quickly developed a substance use disorder (prescription) to try to cope. Began to vape nicotine constantly to try to stabilize myself. I began to isolate myself. By December 2023 I stopped going out at all - again. You know, almost died from the therapist in 2022, my life was almost ruined, and couldn't go out at all, and there I was basically back in the same place.
I never missed a single session. I even opted to increase to twice a week session in an attempt to resolve whatever was going amiss. I continuously tried to establish a working relationship with him. My self-confidence and sense of reality and self were devastated.
Anyway, March 2024 comes around and it comes out Alex diagnosed me with BPD and that was why he was so confrontational (and frankly pulling horrible things out of thin air). Now, I'm pretty darn sure I have either schizotypal or a psychotic disorder. I was under the impression he was treating me for this, as he himself said he dx'd me with schizotypal. But I was also very confused because being confrontational with the kinds of populations I fit into is exactly not what you're supposed to do and has been proven to fuck them up. It's one of the reasons I stayed so long; I just dissociated into oblivion. Not to mention the CPTSD.
I end up sending Alex an email detailing my experiences, which was hard to do. He never asked me about my experiences before (it was all about his assumptions of me), and I thought I needed to try to put an end to this, to again try to establish a working relationship.
The next session, Alex immediately begins to apologize, tells me how he misdiagnosed me, that he's been treating me for a Cluster B disorder when he should have been treating me for a Cluster A, that the "treatment" not working wasn't my fault. He also was convinced that this is what went wrong in my past therapies; that they misdiagnosed me with BPD when the issue was schizotypal, and that it just so happens that applying the confrontational treatment for BPD to schizotypal can basically end the schizotype. (TBH he was way too generous to these past therapists; all him saying that proved to me was that he never believed me in the first place.) He told me he "failed me" and that I "humbled him." He was almost crying he seemed so sorry.
I was already looking for a new therapist, but I was grateful that at least it seemed like things were set straight with Alex. I mean, I now had a substance use disorder and all the more therapy trauma, but I'm pretty happy with little. It was mutually agreed upon that the termination was due to the ways in which the misdiagnosis made the treatment inhospitable for me. It was ended amicably but I noticed he began to act weird around me, very distant, etc. I didn't think much of it, figured maybe he was more emotionally involved when he thought I had BPD for whatever reason.
Found a new therapist at the beginning of April - a formally trained, internationally-based psychoanalyst out of all things (was getting desperate) - and things are going well, finally. No therapy abuse; no issues that even closely resemble the issues I've had with the abusive therapists, etc. Things are finally "easy" with a therapist; the sailing is as smooth as it can be. Also it's entirely free association and it hasn't caused me any issues, contrary to Alex's conviction that letting me speak freely would be devestating to my wellbeing.
Well, two days ago I contacted Alex as I wanted to go to a boutique treatment centre for my prescription substance use issue and they were requesting recent past therapist notes. I thought what a better option than to have Alex send his notes with an explanation that he misdiagnosed me, that he thinks I have been misdiagnosed continuously in past therapies and that's why I've been "treatment resistant," and so on and so forth. Also, given that I developed the issue because of the stress from Alex, this way my story would be corroborated.
Alex was adamant sending his notes was a bad idea, and that the ethics board actually recommends that psychologists write summary letters of the treatment instead. I thought that was nice that Alex was looking out for me. I explained to Alex what I'm looking for in the letter (with the central focus being on the misdiagnosis issue), and that my main goal is to help prove my eligibility for the program (they only take "highly motivated" clients; it's more relaxed in terms of restrictions and what not). I agreed to pay Alex around $400 for his time. I really thought Alex and I were making further amends and that it was so nice he could have my back on this.
Alex gets back to me with the worst letter imaginable. All about how the treatment failed because of ME, how we never made any progress because of ME, that the "lack of consensus on treatment goals and methods" was a massive barrier, and that this all happened despite that the frequency was increased to twice a week (which he failed to mentioned only occurred because I requested it, in an effort to save the therapy!). He made no mention of the fact that I never missed a single therapy session or any fact that would make me sound good, not to mention that he didn't even so much as touch on the fact that the therapy failed because of HIS misdiagnosis. He made it sound like the termination occurred because of how treatment resistant I was.
He also downplayed my trauma (I asked him to speak out this in the letter), saying only how I have a family history of "neglect" and being "scapegoated." My mother would scream at me, like to the point her lungs were going to burst, as a small child until I blacked out, this continued up until I was kicked out at 18, and I have serious CPTSD. I was even diagnosed with PTSD at one point. Like? Alex is supposed to be a specialist in trauma.
So I read the letter and was confused. Got back to him assuring that I'd still pay him, but suggested maybe he remove some parts of it if he can't revise them. Told him I disagree with the reasons for termination and why the treatment didn't work out, and reminded him of the fact he misdiagnosed me. I was honestly very confused and thought maybe he forgot. Told him it's probably not helpful to minimize my trauma.
Cue a minute after I send that email, and it suddenly dawns on me. The pathetic excuse of a therapist never recorded his fuck up in my clinical file. He obviously maintained his delusional narrative within his notes, presumably to cover his ass in case I reported him or sued him for malpractice (unlikely anyway), given that his misshapen and misapplied "treatment" caused me a ton of harm due to his incompetence.
I was seeing red and sent him another email informing him that I actually recorded our final sessions in light of what happened with my previous therapist (and Alex knew about my regret of not recording those sessions, and I'd often leave my phone out during our sessions). It's one-party consent in Canada, and Alex at the very beginning told me he was fine if I recorded the sessions anyway. So yeah, I emailed Alex whilst appalled telling him all about how I recorded him stating he misdiagnosed me, was treating me for the wrong disorder, that therapy not working wasn't my fault, and so on.
Told him he can either write me a letter based on facts - facts I can corroborate given my session recordings - or I'm not paying him for shit. Told him to not even bother replying if he isn't willing to write me a letter grounded in reality. Shockingly, he never got back to me.
And now he'll never know if I was bluffing and he gets to spend the next few months in terror that I'm going to use session recordings to report him for knowingly putting false information in clinical documentation.
What the hell. He could have at least TRIED to make me sound decent in the letter given that he knew what he was saying was bullshit. I guess dissonance is a real bitch. I also don't for a second buy that if I had BPD, his shit-tier "treatment" would have magically worked. It was gaslighting and abusive. You can't just make horrible assumptions about people or create a false reality, shove that in the person's face, then gaslight them all the more when the person is fucking confused and, eventually, distraught.
What a gaslighting loser. I should legitimately report him. Leaving him a bad review as we speak.
(I have had many legitimate delusions myself and don't find the term "delusional" as a pejorative to be offensive. LMK if I should edit it out though.)

I hear the sobbings of empty bank accounts across the U.S. as rent was paid today including myself! But enjoy the last day of Issue No.67 and don't forget to sign up when it comes to these awesome international events for the newsletter!

Sunday, June 2nd, 2024

1. Taste of Peru DC Festival (10AM - 6PM) ($21.18) 🇵🇪
   • Description: Visit the market and find authentic craftsmanship of Peru and Pisco Sour.
   • Host Organization: University of the District of Columbia (UDC)
2. Sari-Sari Pop-Up Market (12PM - 5PM) (FREE!) 🇯🇵
   • Description: Sari-Sari Market at Maketto on June 2, Sunday, 12-5PM - SAMASAMA is bringing you a vibrant selection of artists and makers. Book a mini photo session, shop local, and support some amazing small businesses. Bring your friends & family for an afternoon of good vibes with the SAMASAMA community!
   • Host Organization: Maketto
3. World Heritage Festival (1PM - 7PM) (FREE!) 🌎️
   • Description: Join us at Veterans Plaza in Silver Spring, Maryland, on June 2, 2024, from 1 PM to 7 PM for an unforgettable celebration of global celebrations at the World Heritage Festival!
   • Host Organization: Chic Events DC
4. Nobody's Daughter Haewon Film Screening (1:30PM - 3PM) (FREE!) 📽️
   • Description: In 2013, Hong Sangsoo began to shift the focus of his films from bungling male protagonists to the women they haplessly pursue. In this romantic chamber piece, a film student named Haewon (Jung Eun-chae) falls into a depression and seeks solace in her ex-lover, a married film professor, played by the late Lee Sun-kyun (Parasite).
   • Host Organization: National Museum of Asian Art
5. African American Art History Tour (3PM - 5PM) (FREE!) 🎨
   • Description: African American art history began before the Harlem Renaissance and its legacy continues today. Explore the rich history of African American art from the 1850s to the present with the Third Eye Site.
   • Host Organization: Smithsonian American Art Museum

Weapons
AA/50c/15r Gauss Rifle
AA/25ww25v Minigun
AA/E/25v Assault Rifle,
AA/25ww15c Combat Shotgun
AA/40WS/25v Assaualton Blade & Security Baton
B/40ws/25v Pool Cue (lol)
B/25ww250dr Handmade
B/25ww25v Gatling gun
B/50c/-90 light machine gun,
B/50c/15c Lever Action,
B/50vhc/25v Fixer,
B/50vhc/15r Broadsider
8 unrolled Elders Marks,
Quad/50vhc -90 weight Railway,
Quad/Bash/25v Fixer,
Quad/50vhc/15r Fixer
TS/25ww15r Handmade,
V/25ww15r Minigun
V/25ww-90 Lever Action
Plans
Multiples of every alien plan, (I have 20 teal hazmats plans to give you an idea lol),
Most Mothman Plans including a Tome
Backpack Lead lined, Refrigerated, High Capacity
Vintage Water Cooler,
Pepper Shaker,
meat tenderiser,
Most fossil display pieces & current event plushies and most of the random diagrams etc, will provide list on request as there in vendor
Raw Cement Barricade
I HAVE THE FABLED WEENIE WAGON AVAILABLE
Apparel
25 Brown, 17 Asylum green, 15 Asylum Blue, 9 Pink, 2 Yellow, 6 Forest
5 Hunters long coats
Raven Mask
Junk 16k Circuits, 22k Antiseptic, 47k Copper, 39k Adhesive, 78k Lead
Mods EPG Severe Beta Wave Tuner, Long Recon Scope
Have plenty of leaders to balance trades
Will take current event plans for weapons
Looking for:
Q/25 or E/? Handmades,
AA/25 or E/? Handmades,
Q/25/? Railway,
Open to offers on third role as I know I can't afford 25/25, no 15c
V/25/-90, V/E/-90 Handmades
Apparel offers
Flux/ultracite always nice, leaders, small guns, junk anything lightweight to store
Can accept caps currently - subject to change

(Only Europe, Please) - short note - If you're not into reading or receiving long messages,don't read any further + Please If you don't want to read everything because of my post being too long for you & instead of reading It all - ..skip some parts - find another person to talk to.Let's respect each other and our free time. All people criticizing/making fun of me & other people - will be blocked.Pretty much as people questioning my post and giving me unsolicited advice.I'm not here for any conflicts and I know I can't please everyone - I know I never will.. However It's me who should feel comfortable in my new potential friendship & obviously someone who wants to be my friend - not the whole world.. which is why I don't need any advice from people who don't even want to be a part of my life. The amount of rude people on Reddit always criticizing others and making fun of them is unbelievably high but let me tell you something - NEVER let anyone make choices for you and criticize you only because you're different! Always fight for your dreams and never let anyone make you think you're worthless! It's your life and you're the one deciding what's best for you - If you want to judge me despite not even wanting to talk to me or give me advice better block me! I'm an adult woman and I make all decisions on my own.I'm not trying to "fit in" and be like everyone else - just to get more attention.Accept me for who I am or let go - is my motto.
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Hello guys! 🙂 (read everything before you decide to send me a message) Please send me a message ONLY If you're in the same situation and If your expectations are the same as mine.I want to find like minded people from Europe (Why Europe? Read my post to find out) I'm looking for something permanent (remember - you can feel lonely even If you're surrounded by others - If there's no emotional bond) I'm fed up of meeting people who never make time for me & only text me once or twice a week to ask me "what are you up to?" Out of boredom.I don't want to meet people asking others a million of questions like "what's your favorite movie?" Just to give them one word answer and ask them another question "and music? Your favorite song?" I'm looking for something "deeper" & different 🙂
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What kind of friend would I like to find? Someone to talk to on a daily basis - Someone who needs It & wants It just as much as me
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What are my expectations? I would like to meet someone in a similar situation – why? Because I honestly feel like only a person with the same expectations and a similar outlook on life would get along with me & because I feel more comfortable talking to people like me..Friendless people who need a strong bond - people without friends and partners.. Don't get me wrong…Most people deserve to be happy and It's good to have friends but people who have friends or families in real life are usually more focused on them (which is completely understandable) & have less time for others + I simply don't want to be replaced by anyone..I kind of envy people who can call others , true friends given I don't have an emotional bond with any of my acquaintances. Please send me a message only If you're not In a relationship and don't have friends for the same reasons I've already mentioned before
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Whenever I hear that others have friends I simply get sad because (believe it or not) If I had to choose between 20 people to talk to (acquaintances) and one special person - I'd choose that one special person without any hesitation .
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I also want to talk to others every day because..I want to see someone’s effort & be someone's first choice - not another person to have random conversations with..some people ask me "Why do you want to talk to people from Europe?" Well..Because I would like to see someone I'd get along with - In the far future - face to face :) + I don't want to wait any longer than 6 hours to receive a message - waiting 6 hours to receive a message is more than enough
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I'm by no means criticizing people who don't want to talk to others often / People who really are super busy & People who want to find someone to have unimportant conversations with - I'm aware that not everyone has the same expectations which is why everything you're reading now - is here for a reason :) All I'm suggesting is - I don't want anything temporary and I don't want to be the one always giving more than receiving.Listen people - I used to ignore being..ignored by others..always being just an option to talk to during tough times or moments of boredom.I was too young to realize that I was never important enough for most people that were a part of my life. I don't know who needs to hear this but..No one is too busy to make time for you! People make excuses to avoid others because they prioritize everything and (maybe) everyone..over them. It's true that most people are busy - but It takes only a few seconds to start a conversation (If you're into short messages) and a few minutes (1-10/15) to type a long message . Don't let anyone lie to you.
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Truth is that most people either don't like you enough to make time for you or just simply - feel no need to talk to others often but are they too busy? No..You don't need to send me a message just to ask me and tell me "Do you really want to talk every day? I like long messages but I can't promise to contact you often" If you really are unsure please don't send me a message.I don't need more acquaintances aka people to talk to - occasionally.
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I'm not trying to sound rude but conversations once or twice a week wouldn't be enough for me and I don't need them... Let me tell you one thing – A true friend would never just give up on you for no reason :) It’s always possible to find someone to have a random conversation with – someone willing to send you one message once or twice a week..but..It’s almost impossible to find people willing to make more time for you.
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I’m not asking a busy person to make time for me by changing some plans! Absolutely not! I’m here to find someone who wants to talk daily (throughout the day or maybe even night) of one’s own will.Someone looking for the same kind of connection.Strong friendships are based on mutual support. One of the best things you can do for a friend in need, is just to be there for them when they want to talk.I often see posts from people who always say how friendless they are because they don't feel loved or appreciated by their "friends" remember! A true friend - someone who truly likes you or someone who wants to get to know you - will always find time for you.
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I'm not interested in small talk/short messages - I love long and meaningful conversations. It's so easy to find someone who loves abbreviations and questions like "How are you?" How was your day? Or what are you interested in? But so hard/almost impossible to find a person who knows how to keep a conversation going & show others some effort.Building and maintaining friendships takes time and effort.Never allow pursuits or possessions to become bigger priorities than your relations with other people.Close friendships are so important to us because they are so difficult to form + Having friends can help you feel as if you belong to something that brings purpose and connection to your life
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• I do NOT respond to any „Hey,hmu” or „u want to talk?” type of messages (super short messages or messages full of abbreviations – I literally can’t stand abbreviations and acronyms in text messages) ALL messages full of abbreviations will immediately be ignored.I also don't like it when people ignore everything I say in private messages just to focus on a random question or? When they start talking only about themselves and don't ever ask me anything. I love conversations with people referring to everything I say...I want everything I say and do - to be reciprocated
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• No NSFW profiles (checking mental health subreddits NOT included as I'm a huge empath and always try to understand others) - Please! I'm not looking for anyone to flirt with and I'm not looking for a partner either. I always check people's profiles (even comment history) - To avoid guys, trying to get inappropriate pictures from adult women or? flirt with them + I don't want to see you with no clothes on so If you're on Reddit only because you want others to see what's underneath your clothes - I'm not for you! I just simply don't want to see any s e x related activity on your profile If you want to talk to me.
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• If both of us (you and I) are from the same country (I live in a non-English speaking country) - I want to communicate with you in our first language! No - Not because I don't understand English - because as you see - I do. Why then? English is simply overrated and people don't appreciate other languages as much as they should. So.. If we're from the same country and you want to talk only in English (which is quite common on reddit) - Talk to someone else. I just don't want to talk to a person from the same country as mine - in a foreign language as It's just something I don't understand even If all you want is to improve your language skills
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• Please only adult people 18-36 (age range) It doesn't matter to me If you're younger or older than me (as long as you're not underage) So.. don't worry! I just want to have discussions with emotionally mature people :)
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• I don’t respond to messages I don’t find interesting even If they're long - If after receiving and reading your message I don't feel comfortable or think "I wouldn't get along with him/her" I simply do not respond (what I’m suggesting is that I don’t always respond to someone’s first or second message because..sometimes you just know If you’d get along with someone or not- I’d never ignore anyone after days or weeks of daily conversations though) just because I don’t want to do anything forcefully & because I don’t want to lead anyone on. I read all messages but I definitely don't respond to all of them! I want to make it clear because I don't want to be accused of not responding and not reading people's messages! - Some people don't message me back as well and even If It's a bit disappointing I'm ok with that! - as long as there's no emotional bond - Not responding to someone's first or second message Is completely OK! If people think they wouldn't get along with a stranger - is there a reason to start a conversation? I don't think so. I can't stand being ignored after days or weeks of daily conversations and seeing people changing priorities over time.. but that's something different - something I don't want to go through ever again for real. If I'm really interested in someone's message it's impossible to hear from me "I'm too busy" because I know myself and If I had no time for others - I wouldn't be here. I don't want to pretend someone I'm not and always try to find some cheap excuses to avoid others. (unlike most people who don't want to talk to others)
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• Don’t ask me “Can you tell me something about yourself?” If you really want to get to know me - you can ask me questions :) I'm an open book.
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• It would be better If you guys were into emojis - like me - to describe your emotions In text messages. Two emojis - 🙂 and 🙁 are completely enough! I just don't like emotionless conversations.I also don't like it when people say "yeah" or yea"as it sounds dismissively. First impression Is everything to me! I want to see your kindness even in a text message - Emojis are very helpful to express your emotions.I don't want to meet people who say "crying Is a weakness" - It's OK to cry even If you're a guy!
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• I want to talk on reddit first (just to make sure If I'd get along with you) before moving to Discord or some other app
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• I would rather talk to a homebody - not another person who always has something to do as people who are very busy don't even have time for daily conversations
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• If you're another person interested only in "childish conversations" such as "HEYOOO! I'M BORED! Ya like Pizza or cheese? xDDDD 🤣" I'm begging you! Don't send me a message.I'm not a child anymore and such messages don't make me smile or laugh.I'm looking for someone interested In serious discussions - not another person just seeking some entertainment out of boredom . Conversations with sarcastic undertones (even when It comes to some emojis such as 🤣😂) are not for me. Your typing style matters to me! Why? when It comes to online conversations with someone new - It's not always possible to know If someone Is laughing at you.. or with you. Let me tell you something else! Jokes about cancer, disabilities and death are UNACCEPTABLE to me. If you find joy In someone else's misfortune you are not a person I want to know.
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• Time response matters to me a lot! I would never ask anyone to be online all day long and I'm NOT asking any of you for any instant messaging as I'm someone who would rather wait an hour or two to receive a proper response instead of some short and pointless messages but I'm interested only in daily conversations and I don't want to wait any longer than 6 hours to get a message from you.I don't need unbelievably long messages either! Messages as long as the second paragraph of my post - are completely enough. If you like longer messages? you can send me a longer message, but If you want to send me one word or one sentence as a response to my post - don't expect a reaction from me. I don't want to come across as rude - I just don't want to waste your time
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• I'm strongly AGAINST picking on people you don't even want to chat with - and making fun of them! I can't stand people who criticize others publicly or make fun of them! (only because they disagree with someone they don't even know) There's no place In my life for someone using Reddit, to hurt other people
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• I'm not into foul language and I definitely don't want to talk to people who swear a lot...
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• I want to meet assertive people who know what they want and always stand up for their friends
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• I want to meet someone willing to call me In the future, someone spontaneously sending me pictures of animals or food, et cetera. I want more than just text conversations.. 🌻
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Why can’t you see any of my hobbies listed down below? Because what really matters to me is..who you are (If you’re honest, talkative ,understanding, caring and trustworthy – for example) just simply – It matters to me what you’re like! not what you like.Don’t get me wrong – you can tell me what your hobbies are but from my point of view - people's hobbies are important - If you want to find a gaming buddy or If you want to meet someone to hang out with in real life and..go bowling for example.What most people seem to care about are other people's passions – I don’t. I get along with other people despite having completely different hobbies but I absolutely don’t get along with people way different than me (different expectations and outlook on life – way different sense of humor or personality traits – It’s just an example) It doesn't make ANY DIFFERENCE to me If you're a gamer or? Someone interested in photography! It doesn't make any difference - > as long as you're talkative and kind and If you also want to find someone willing to stay in your life..for good - But If you're into small talk and all you want is to...type and receive super short messages or If you're here only because you're bored and don't know what to do + If you're a very sarcastic person - I'm definitely not for you! I don't get along with overly sarcastic people turning everything into a joke. Friendships should be natural – not forced. I wouldn't get along with people who laugh at everything.. In my opinion most people are way too sarcastic.. It's quite sad... Sarcasm can also be another form of passive-aggressive behavior.
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People who want to be to friends should feel comfortable and have something in common. No - not necessarily a similar taste in music or movies but something else..Most friendships don't fizzle out because of people not having the same hobbies but..because they just simply have different expectations when It comes to something important.I'm not here out of boredom and trust me - I'm not here to meet as many people as possible.I choose quality over quantity.I highly value myself and my time & Sometimes one person but a person who makes you feel comfortable and understood - is more than enough :) We ALL can choose what kind of people we’d like to talk to and maybe even become really good friends with and I? I don’t want anyone to be disappointed.We all have some expectations after all.I know that people don't have to talk as often as possible in order to become friends but I'm interested only in daily conversations. If you really need someone to talk to due to loneliness and If you have time to talk to me daily (throughout the day and maybe even night) I always make time for others.I'm literally always available.I could even stay up all night long only to talk to someone important to me. I’m ready to commit but only If there’s some chemistry between me and someone else.I don’t do anything forcefully.
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If you want to talk to me tell me your story - tell me why you're here, what kind of friend would you like to meet :) Et cetera.Such messages are way more interesting to me than...someone's long list of hobbies. I know! It's unusual on reddit but I don't make friends based on hobbies..I want to meet someone with the same mindset as mine to finally feel understood and get close to someone new. You can share your problems with me - I absolutely don't mind "complaining" as I've been through a lot in my life.What do people usually tell you when you tell them that something's wrong? "Don't complain" or "Life's not over yet - one day you'll be happy" or "There are worse situations than yours" and..obviously "Find a therapist" Life's not a fairytale and sometimes things don't go as planned.Emotions shouldn't be bottled up.I'm sick of people always telling others "everything's gonna be ok" move on " & more..Trust me people - not everyone wants to hear "Just believe in yourself and everything's gonna be ok" Some people take it as reassurance - but others? They would rather hear something different 🙁Imagine being told that things will be okay, only for them to get worse..Do you guys know why telling someone "everything's gonna be ok" Is wrong? Because you can't see the future.
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You can't guarantee others that one day they'll finally be happy + when It comes to social interactions - We're responsible only for ourselves - not others & as you guys know people let us down quite often (sometimes even when there's no reason) so instead of telling people how they should move on, forget everything and be happy or asking them to find a therapist - be there for them! Always be willing to listen to them If you really like them or want to get to know them & don't suggest everyone in a tough situation to find a therapist because even the best therapist won't ever replace a true friend + It's quite normal to be disappointed If people always do something to hurt you. Sharing your hardships with other people in a very similar situation or exactly the same one - is VERY helpful If the other person understands you & wants to start all over by just letting it all out! Feeling emotional support instead of always hearing some "positive quotes" or someone saying "Stop complaining let's talk about something else - Is very important! "Everyone needs a shoulder to cry on. I appreciate sensitive people who always try to understand others. If after hearing a sad story all you want to say is "forget the past and move on" you're not for me. It's important to be a good listener and provide emotional support to others
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Please - If you're a completely different person than the described type of person I'm looking for (If you love abbreviations,If you don't need a stable friendship, If you're sarcastic and quiet) or If you simply disagree with my post - don't force yourself to send me a message.I want my new potential friendship to be natural which is why I want you to contact me only If your needs are the same - I don't want you to pretend someone you're not - only to please me - Pretending to be someone you're not - is the worst.I want to finally be happy again & find someone "always" wanting to talk - sending me random pictures throughout the day - food pictures or pictures of some animals. What is the most important to me? I want to find people who value online friendships as much as they would value real life ones as there's another human being on the other side
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No comments please.Only Private messages and chat requests 🌺
I know It's possible to meet people with exactly the same expectations as mine but It's just not easy because most people are Interested In temporary and entertaining conversations. People like me are just "different" I really want to finally find someone who loves emojis as much as I do.. someone who loves sweet, warm and serious discussions at the same time. Emojis really do - change conversations 😊

(Only Europe, Please) - short note - If you're not into reading or receiving long messages,don't read any further + Please If you don't want to read everything because of my post being too long for you & instead of reading It all - ..skip some parts - find another person to talk to.Let's respect each other and our free time. All people criticizing/making fun of me & other people - will be blocked.Pretty much as people questioning my post and giving me unsolicited advice.I'm not here for any conflicts and I know I can't please everyone - I know I never will.. However It's me who should feel comfortable in my new potential friendship & obviously someone who wants to be my friend - not the whole world.. which is why I don't need any advice from people who don't even want to be a part of my life. The amount of rude people on Reddit always criticizing others and making fun of them is unbelievably high but let me tell you something - NEVER let anyone make choices for you and criticize you only because you're different! Always fight for your dreams and never let anyone make you think you're worthless! It's your life and you're the one deciding what's best for you - If you want to judge me despite not even wanting to talk to me or give me advice better block me! I'm an adult woman and I make all decisions on my own.I'm not trying to "fit in" and be like everyone else - just to get more attention.Accept me for who I am or let go - is my motto.
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Hello guys! 🙂 (read everything before you decide to send me a message) Please send me a message ONLY If you're in the same situation and If your expectations are the same as mine.I want to find like minded people from Europe (Why Europe? Read my post to find out) I'm looking for something permanent (remember - you can feel lonely even If you're surrounded by others - If there's no emotional bond) I'm fed up of meeting people who never make time for me & only text me once or twice a week to ask me "what are you up to?" Out of boredom.I don't want to meet people asking others a million of questions like "what's your favorite movie?" Just to give them one word answer and ask them another question "and music? Your favorite song?" I'm looking for something "deeper" & different 🙂
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What kind of friend would I like to find? Someone to talk to on a daily basis - Someone who needs It & wants It just as much as me
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What are my expectations? I would like to meet someone in a similar situation – why? Because I honestly feel like only a person with the same expectations and a similar outlook on life would get along with me & because I feel more comfortable talking to people like me..Friendless people who need a strong bond - people without friends and partners.. Don't get me wrong…Most people deserve to be happy and It's good to have friends but people who have friends or families in real life are usually more focused on them (which is completely understandable) & have less time for others + I simply don't want to be replaced by anyone..I kind of envy people who can call others , true friends given I don't have an emotional bond with any of my acquaintances. Please send me a message only If you're not In a relationship and don't have friends for the same reasons I've already mentioned before
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Whenever I hear that others have friends I simply get sad because (believe it or not) If I had to choose between 20 people to talk to (acquaintances) and one special person - I'd choose that one special person without any hesitation .
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I also want to talk to others every day because..I want to see someone’s effort & be someone's first choice - not another person to have random conversations with..some people ask me "Why do you want to talk to people from Europe?" Well..Because I would like to see someone I'd get along with - In the far future - face to face :) + I don't want to wait any longer than 6 hours to receive a message - waiting 6 hours to receive a message is more than enough
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I'm by no means criticizing people who don't want to talk to others often / People who really are super busy & People who want to find someone to have unimportant conversations with - I'm aware that not everyone has the same expectations which is why everything you're reading now - is here for a reason :) All I'm suggesting is - I don't want anything temporary and I don't want to be the one always giving more than receiving.Listen people - I used to ignore being..ignored by others..always being just an option to talk to during tough times or moments of boredom.I was too young to realize that I was never important enough for most people that were a part of my life. I don't know who needs to hear this but..No one is too busy to make time for you! People make excuses to avoid others because they prioritize everything and (maybe) everyone..over them. It's true that most people are busy - but It takes only a few seconds to start a conversation (If you're into short messages) and a few minutes (1-10/15) to type a long message . Don't let anyone lie to you.
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Truth is that most people either don't like you enough to make time for you or just simply - feel no need to talk to others often but are they too busy? No..You don't need to send me a message just to ask me and tell me "Do you really want to talk every day? I like long messages but I can't promise to contact you often" If you really are unsure please don't send me a message.I don't need more acquaintances aka people to talk to - occasionally.
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I'm not trying to sound rude but conversations once or twice a week wouldn't be enough for me and I don't need them... Let me tell you one thing – A true friend would never just give up on you for no reason :) It’s always possible to find someone to have a random conversation with – someone willing to send you one message once or twice a week..but..It’s almost impossible to find people willing to make more time for you.
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I’m not asking a busy person to make time for me by changing some plans! Absolutely not! I’m here to find someone who wants to talk daily (throughout the day or maybe even night) of one’s own will.Someone looking for the same kind of connection.Strong friendships are based on mutual support. One of the best things you can do for a friend in need, is just to be there for them when they want to talk.I often see posts from people who always say how friendless they are because they don't feel loved or appreciated by their "friends" remember! A true friend - someone who truly likes you or someone who wants to get to know you - will always find time for you.
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I'm not interested in small talk/short messages - I love long and meaningful conversations. It's so easy to find someone who loves abbreviations and questions like "How are you?" How was your day? Or what are you interested in? But so hard/almost impossible to find a person who knows how to keep a conversation going & show others some effort.Building and maintaining friendships takes time and effort.Never allow pursuits or possessions to become bigger priorities than your relations with other people.Close friendships are so important to us because they are so difficult to form + Having friends can help you feel as if you belong to something that brings purpose and connection to your life
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• I do NOT respond to any „Hey,hmu” or „u want to talk?” type of messages (super short messages or messages full of abbreviations – I literally can’t stand abbreviations and acronyms in text messages) ALL messages full of abbreviations will immediately be ignored.I also don't like it when people ignore everything I say in private messages just to focus on a random question or? When they start talking only about themselves and don't ever ask me anything. I love conversations with people referring to everything I say...I want everything I say and do - to be reciprocated
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• No NSFW profiles (checking mental health subreddits NOT included as I'm a huge empath and always try to understand others) - Please! I'm not looking for anyone to flirt with and I'm not looking for a partner either. I always check people's profiles (even comment history) - To avoid guys, trying to get inappropriate pictures from adult women or? flirt with them + I don't want to see you with no clothes on so If you're on Reddit only because you want others to see what's underneath your clothes - I'm not for you! I just simply don't want to see any s e x related activity on your profile If you want to talk to me.
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• If both of us (you and I) are from the same country (I live in a non-English speaking country) - I want to communicate with you in our first language! No - Not because I don't understand English - because as you see - I do. Why then? English is simply overrated and people don't appreciate other languages as much as they should. So.. If we're from the same country and you want to talk only in English (which is quite common on reddit) - Talk to someone else. I just don't want to talk to a person from the same country as mine - in a foreign language as It's just something I don't understand even If all you want is to improve your language skills
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• Please only adult people 18-36 (age range) It doesn't matter to me If you're younger or older than me (as long as you're not underage) So.. don't worry! I just want to have discussions with emotionally mature people :)
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• I don’t respond to messages I don’t find interesting even If they're long - If after receiving and reading your message I don't feel comfortable or think "I wouldn't get along with him/her" I simply do not respond (what I’m suggesting is that I don’t always respond to someone’s first or second message because..sometimes you just know If you’d get along with someone or not- I’d never ignore anyone after days or weeks of daily conversations though) just because I don’t want to do anything forcefully & because I don’t want to lead anyone on. I read all messages but I definitely don't respond to all of them! I want to make it clear because I don't want to be accused of not responding and not reading people's messages! - Some people don't message me back as well and even If It's a bit disappointing I'm ok with that! - as long as there's no emotional bond - Not responding to someone's first or second message Is completely OK! If people think they wouldn't get along with a stranger - is there a reason to start a conversation? I don't think so. I can't stand being ignored after days or weeks of daily conversations and seeing people changing priorities over time.. but that's something different - something I don't want to go through ever again for real. If I'm really interested in someone's message it's impossible to hear from me "I'm too busy" because I know myself and If I had no time for others - I wouldn't be here. I don't want to pretend someone I'm not and always try to find some cheap excuses to avoid others. (unlike most people who don't want to talk to others)
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• Don’t ask me “Can you tell me something about yourself?” If you really want to get to know me - you can ask me questions :) I'm an open book.
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• It would be better If you guys were into emojis - like me - to describe your emotions In text messages. Two emojis - 🙂 and 🙁 are completely enough! I just don't like emotionless conversations.I also don't like it when people say "yeah" or yea"as it sounds dismissively. First impression Is everything to me! I want to see your kindness even in a text message - Emojis are very helpful to express your emotions.I don't want to meet people who say "crying Is a weakness" - It's OK to cry even If you're a guy!
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• I want to talk on reddit first (just to make sure If I'd get along with you) before moving to Discord or some other app
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• I would rather talk to a homebody - not another person who always has something to do as people who are very busy don't even have time for daily conversations
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• If you're another person interested only in "childish conversations" such as "HEYOOO! I'M BORED! Ya like Pizza or cheese? xDDDD 🤣" I'm begging you! Don't send me a message.I'm not a child anymore and such messages don't make me smile or laugh.I'm looking for someone interested In serious discussions - not another person just seeking some entertainment out of boredom . Conversations with sarcastic undertones (even when It comes to some emojis such as 🤣😂) are not for me. Your typing style matters to me! Why? when It comes to online conversations with someone new - It's not always possible to know If someone Is laughing at you.. or with you. Let me tell you something else! Jokes about cancer, disabilities and death are UNACCEPTABLE to me. If you find joy In someone else's misfortune you are not a person I want to know.
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• Time response matters to me a lot! I would never ask anyone to be online all day long and I'm NOT asking any of you for any instant messaging as I'm someone who would rather wait an hour or two to receive a proper response instead of some short and pointless messages but I'm interested only in daily conversations and I don't want to wait any longer than 6 hours to get a message from you.I don't need unbelievably long messages either! Messages as long as the second paragraph of my post - are completely enough. If you like longer messages? you can send me a longer message, but If you want to send me one word or one sentence as a response to my post - don't expect a reaction from me. I don't want to come across as rude - I just don't want to waste your time
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• I'm strongly AGAINST picking on people you don't even want to chat with - and making fun of them! I can't stand people who criticize others publicly or make fun of them! (only because they disagree with someone they don't even know) There's no place In my life for someone using Reddit, to hurt other people
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• I'm not into foul language and I definitely don't want to talk to people who swear a lot...
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• I want to meet assertive people who know what they want and always stand up for their friends
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• I want to meet someone willing to call me In the future, someone spontaneously sending me pictures of animals or food, et cetera. I want more than just text conversations.. 🌻
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Why can’t you see any of my hobbies listed down below? Because what really matters to me is..who you are (If you’re honest, talkative ,understanding, caring and trustworthy – for example) just simply – It matters to me what you’re like! not what you like.Don’t get me wrong – you can tell me what your hobbies are but from my point of view - people's hobbies are important - If you want to find a gaming buddy or If you want to meet someone to hang out with in real life and..go bowling for example.What most people seem to care about are other people's passions – I don’t. I get along with other people despite having completely different hobbies but I absolutely don’t get along with people way different than me (different expectations and outlook on life – way different sense of humor or personality traits – It’s just an example) It doesn't make ANY DIFFERENCE to me If you're a gamer or? Someone interested in photography! It doesn't make any difference - > as long as you're talkative and kind and If you also want to find someone willing to stay in your life..for good - But If you're into small talk and all you want is to...type and receive super short messages or If you're here only because you're bored and don't know what to do + If you're a very sarcastic person - I'm definitely not for you! I don't get along with overly sarcastic people turning everything into a joke. Friendships should be natural – not forced. I wouldn't get along with people who laugh at everything.. In my opinion most people are way too sarcastic.. It's quite sad... Sarcasm can also be another form of passive-aggressive behavior.
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People who want to be to friends should feel comfortable and have something in common. No - not necessarily a similar taste in music or movies but something else..Most friendships don't fizzle out because of people not having the same hobbies but..because they just simply have different expectations when It comes to something important.I'm not here out of boredom and trust me - I'm not here to meet as many people as possible.I choose quality over quantity.I highly value myself and my time & Sometimes one person but a person who makes you feel comfortable and understood - is more than enough :) We ALL can choose what kind of people we’d like to talk to and maybe even become really good friends with and I? I don’t want anyone to be disappointed.We all have some expectations after all.I know that people don't have to talk as often as possible in order to become friends but I'm interested only in daily conversations. If you really need someone to talk to due to loneliness and If you have time to talk to me daily (throughout the day and maybe even night) I always make time for others.I'm literally always available.I could even stay up all night long only to talk to someone important to me. I’m ready to commit but only If there’s some chemistry between me and someone else.I don’t do anything forcefully.
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If you want to talk to me tell me your story - tell me why you're here, what kind of friend would you like to meet :) Et cetera.Such messages are way more interesting to me than...someone's long list of hobbies. I know! It's unusual on reddit but I don't make friends based on hobbies..I want to meet someone with the same mindset as mine to finally feel understood and get close to someone new. You can share your problems with me - I absolutely don't mind "complaining" as I've been through a lot in my life.What do people usually tell you when you tell them that something's wrong? "Don't complain" or "Life's not over yet - one day you'll be happy" or "There are worse situations than yours" and..obviously "Find a therapist" Life's not a fairytale and sometimes things don't go as planned.Emotions shouldn't be bottled up.I'm sick of people always telling others "everything's gonna be ok" move on " & more..Trust me people - not everyone wants to hear "Just believe in yourself and everything's gonna be ok" Some people take it as reassurance - but others? They would rather hear something different 🙁Imagine being told that things will be okay, only for them to get worse..Do you guys know why telling someone "everything's gonna be ok" Is wrong? Because you can't see the future.
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You can't guarantee others that one day they'll finally be happy + when It comes to social interactions - We're responsible only for ourselves - not others & as you guys know people let us down quite often (sometimes even when there's no reason) so instead of telling people how they should move on, forget everything and be happy or asking them to find a therapist - be there for them! Always be willing to listen to them If you really like them or want to get to know them & don't suggest everyone in a tough situation to find a therapist because even the best therapist won't ever replace a true friend + It's quite normal to be disappointed If people always do something to hurt you. Sharing your hardships with other people in a very similar situation or exactly the same one - is VERY helpful If the other person understands you & wants to start all over by just letting it all out! Feeling emotional support instead of always hearing some "positive quotes" or someone saying "Stop complaining let's talk about something else - Is very important! "Everyone needs a shoulder to cry on. I appreciate sensitive people who always try to understand others. If after hearing a sad story all you want to say is "forget the past and move on" you're not for me. It's important to be a good listener and provide emotional support to others
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Please - If you're a completely different person than the described type of person I'm looking for (If you love abbreviations,If you don't need a stable friendship, If you're sarcastic and quiet) or If you simply disagree with my post - don't force yourself to send me a message.I want my new potential friendship to be natural which is why I want you to contact me only If your needs are the same - I don't want you to pretend someone you're not - only to please me - Pretending to be someone you're not - is the worst.I want to finally be happy again & find someone "always" wanting to talk - sending me random pictures throughout the day - food pictures or pictures of some animals. What is the most important to me? I want to find people who value online friendships as much as they would value real life ones as there's another human being on the other side
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No comments please.Only Private messages and chat requests 🌺
I know It's possible to meet people with exactly the same expectations as mine but It's just not easy because most people are Interested In temporary and entertaining conversations. People like me are just "different" I really want to finally find someone who loves emojis as much as I do.. someone who loves sweet, warm and serious discussions at the same time. Emojis really do - change conversations 😊

Hey Guys, Okay I am going to share the My deepest secret here. I am a 26 Year old Male from India. I have discovered that my Dick is very small (4-4.5) inches, I am fat, ugly obviously. Also I have discovered that I ejaculate very soon maybe within a minute when I masturbate. So I have come a conclusion that I would not be able to satisfy any women in this world. And why will women even be with me when I can't give them basics. I am just an average guy earning average money .And I have left hopes on this life. I am just surviving thinking I must not voluntarily kill myself (Also that would be a bad name to my parents) but to keep eating and becoming fat and one day I will die cause of obesity heart attack. always dreamed of having a small family good wife and kids and earning for them. But I am so doomed in life cause of the problem which cannot be fixed

“I told you there would be nothing in that military check point,” Barrett said. He cleaned his hands from bloodbug residue. “Only abandoned cars and empty cigarette machines.”
“Okay, I was wrong!” Simon admitted. “Is it my fault that I have hope?”
“No one ever knows out here,” Kevin chimed in.
Simon affectionally grabbed his youngest brother by the shoulder.
“See, Barrett, this is what a supportive brother sounds like.”
Barrett grunted.
The three brothers continued to follow the broken asphalt road. In time, the sky above them disappeared behind the ruins of an interstate highway. Its massive concrete columns towered over the horizon. It had cast a long shadow over their route.
Kevin stopped his brothers.
“Is that an elevator?” He pointed to the yellow cable lift that ran up to the overpass.
“I’m not using that,” Barrett quickly responded. He touched his stomach unconsciously, cognizant of his size and weight.
“Yeah, that might be an adventure for another life time,” Simon said, noting the precariousness of the cables that rose up to the ruins of the highway overpass.
Kevin pursed his lips with a modicum of disappointment. As the youngest and smallest of the three, he possessed more daring than his brothers combined. Perhaps this difference was due to the inexperience of his age or the simple fact that Kevin had a different mother than Barrett and Simon. His courage may have been a genetic inheritance that the others lacked.
“House!” Simon spotted the wooden building before his brothers, who still focused on the elevator and the possibility of ascending it.
“Let me guess, there’s going to be treasure inside of it,” Barrett said sarcastically.
“There could be!” Simon replied.
As the young men approached the building, it became apparent it had been apart of a long abandoned settlement. From their higher-ground perspective, they could see the ruins of several buildings roll down the landscape and into the consuming waters of the Charles River. The houses closest to the river had flooded and slowly rotted in the river’s murky water.
“We got a lot of work to do,” Barrett said. His siblings could hear the smile in his words. They knew that there would be at least one piece of worthwhile loot among these buildings. Barrett, however, wanted more than the natural greed of survival. The big man itched for a real fight.
“Raiders, Ghouls, or Mirelurks,” Kevin asked.
“Five caps on raiders,” Barrett said. His hand dropped to the pipe pistol holstered to his thigh.
“Five for mirelurks,” Simon said.
“I guess, I take ghouls.”
The three men moved closer to the first building. The residence, once a beautiful suburban home, had decayed over the two hundred and twenty years since its owners died in the nuclear fallout. Yet, despite the age of home, its door seemed to have been freshly repaired.
Simon, as per usual, approached the entrance with military tact. Barrett positioned himself behind his older brother. He placed one hand on Simon’s shoulder and the other around his pipe pistol. Kevin checked their flank and readied his pipe rifle.
Simon lifted his hand. He counted silently with his fingers.
One. Two. Three.
He grabbed the door and yanked it open. Barrett entered the building, his pipe pistol scanning the interior of the house.
“Clear!”
Simon followed Barrett. Kevin slowly backed into the building. He closed the door behind him.
“Stairs,” Barrett said to his brothers.
Immediately, the big man took the lead, scanning the floor above him with his pistol at eye-level. Simon followed in the wake of his larger brother, keeping his eyes straight to the top of the landing. Kevin stayed on the first floor. He found a corner, pressed his back into it, and crouched. He kept his eye on the front door.
“Clear!” Barrett’s voice rang through the structure.
“Nothing for nobody,” Kevin said, standing from his position and letting his rifle hang limply in his hands. He thought at least one ghoul would be hiding in the house. Their fraternal bottlecap wager would have to wait another house.
“Cheer up! Better luck in the next building.” Simon said as he walked down the stairs. “Right now, we have some time to loot.”
The brothers began the careful examination of the residential building.
Despite two centuries of rain and snow the building seemed to be in good condition. Clearly, since the bombs fell, a series of squatters had made improvements and adjustments over the years. In fact, the house seemed almost luxurious compared to the standards of the Wasteland. The floors had been redone with new planks of wood. The walls had been scraped of their original wallpaper and painted a light seafoam green. Although the glass from the windows had been long destroyed, curtains hung over the wooden shutters that secured the windows from the exterior world.
“Ooo!” Barrett exclaimed upstairs.
“What’d you find?” Simon called out. He stood at the bottom of the staircase and waited for a sign.
“Caps stash!” Barrett appeared with a grey tin can. He shook it and a number of caps inside of it pleasantly jingled.
“And you thought there wouldn’t be any treasure?” Simon laughed to himself.
“And the fridge is full!” Kevin called.
Barrett rushed down the stairs and joined his brothers at the fridge. Together, they drank a bottle of mostly clean water, each taking sips and passing it to the others. Then, they finished a plate of crispy squirrel bits.
“Almost fresh,” Barrett said, shoving a large handful into his mouth.
Simon continued his perusal of the house as he chewed his last portion of squirrel meat. He went to the living room section of the main floor and rummaged through a chest of drawers.
“Women’s clothing?” He lifted a dress from the chest of drawers and showed his brothers. The light green dress seemed to be in relatively good condition. The clean herbaceous smell of carrot flowers wafted into his nose.
“Someone might still live here,” Barrett said, looking at a bouquet of fresh hubflowers on the table.
Kevin looked from one of the windows. “I think he’s just arrived.”
Before Simon and Kevin could arm themselves, the door opened. An old man entered with two buckets of water. At the very moment he saw these three men, he dropped the buckets on the floor and rushed out of the building. One of the buckets spilled its contents across the floor, slowly dribbling down the front steps. Meanwhile, the old man pressed his back against the exterior wall of the building.
“What are you doing in my house?”
“We didn’t know!” Simon shouted back. “We didn’t mean to trespass!”
“Well, you did. Now, what are you going to do? Kill an old man and take his home?”
“Not if you let us leave unharmed!”
“How do I know that you’re not raiders?”
“You can’t,” Simon shouted back. “You can only make a leap of faith.”
“And why would I that?”
“Well, for one thing, there are more of us than there are of you.”
“Send one man out.”
“No!” Simon responded. “How do I know you’re not just going to shoot him the moment he leaves the building?”
“You can’t,” the old man shouted back. “You can only make a leap of faith.”
Simon felt bested by the old man’s negotiating skills.
“I’ll go,” Kevin said to his brothers.
“No, I will.” Barrett put his hand on his younger brother. He would gladly die in his place.
“There’s less of me to hit,” Kevin bantered.
Barrett grunted, but he could not stop himself from smiling.
Simon thought about dissuading his brothers, telling them that no one was going to leave the house, but this show of trust needed to be made. If things went well, there could be a chance that the three of them could profit from this encounter. Perhaps, they could spend the night sleeping inside a warm house and finally be able to get a proper night’s rest.
“I’m coming out,” Kevin shouted to the old man.
“Unarmed. With your hands up! If I see so much as a big iron on your hip, the deal is off.”
Kevin placed his pipe rifle and his switchblade on top of the chest of drawers.
Simon stepped close to his brother and embraced him.
“If he harms you, I will make sure he suffers until his very last breath,” Simon whispered.
Kevin squeezed his brother tightly and went to the door.
“I am approaching the door now,” Kevin shouted. “My hands are up.”
Kevin stepped over the spilled water bucket and crossed the threshold of the house.
“Keeping going,” the old man commanded.
Once Kevin descended the front stairs and reached the hard ground, he felt the old man sweep behind him and check for weapons.
“Do we trust each other?” Kevin said, letting the old man pat down his sides. “I’m alive, so I know I can trust you, but there are still two men inside of the house.”
“Two, huh? I thought there’d be more of you.” The old man met Kevin gaze. His face was wrinkled, freckled, and scarred. His neck-length beard, once nearly black in colour, had become streaked with grey. His moustache faired slightly better, but it too had begun to pale in his old age. Overall, the old man seemed hardened by his experiences in the wasteland, but, despite this hardness, Kevin noticed a softness behind his eyes. They reflected no bitterness or resentment.
“Now what?” Simon called from inside of the house.
“I’m going to come inside with your friend as collateral.”
The old man drew his 10mm pistol and pressed into Kevin’s lower back. Kevin straightened his posture with a reflexive fear. He climbed up the stairs and back into the house, the pistol never losing contact with his spine.
“Welcome to my home, gentleman,” the old man said. “The name is Duncan. I hope you make yourselves comfortable, although, by the looks of yesterday’s dinner, it seems as though you already have.”
Barrett glanced back at the empty porcelain plate. He wiped his greasy hands on his pant legs.
“Watch it, big guy,” the old man said. “You don’t want to make too many sudden movements.”
Barrett looked into his brother’s face. Kevin seemed calm on the surface, but Barrett could see the fear beneath his composure.
“My name is Simon. This is Barrett, and the man you currently threatening is our brother Kevin.”
“Pleasure, gentlemen.”
“We’re travellers. We’ve no particular destination. We’re just trying to survive.”
“Yes, that always seems to be the story. Why aren’t you getting comfortable in Diamond City or Goodneighbor?”
“We’re new to the Commonwealth,” Simon replied.
“Just arrived,” Barrett added.
“Boys, I’m happy to be your first experience in these here parts, but you’re going to have to leave. I can’t risk any trouble.”
“We won’t be any trouble,” Kevin said, looking behind his shoulder.
“Truly, I would like to believe you boys, but you best be going.”
Duncan stepped aside and positioned himself to the side of the room. He tilted his head toward the door with a quick gesture, encouraging Simon and Barrett to leave.
“Now, please.”
“Can we at least get Kevin’s weapons over there?” Simon asked.
“I’ll toss them to you once you’re out of the door. Just go.”
Simon and Barrett complied. They walked out of the house and down the steps. Duncan led Kevin from his house, allowing the young man to move away from the pistol.
“Grandpapa!”
The men turned to see group of three women approaching the house. Two of them carried heavy bags of harvested food, while the third held a tactical submachine gun in her hands. The three of them kept staring at their grandfather, who kept his pistol held toward the brothers.
The woman with the submachine gun lifted the stock to her shoulder. She knew that with her large drum magazine, she could cut down these three intruders without the need to reload.
“We had a small misunderstanding, ladies,” Simon said with a winning smile. He looked at the woman with the submachine gun. Her short dark brown hair swooped over one of her eyes. She flipped her hair out of the way. “We’ll be on our way,” Simon continued, “once your grandfather hands us our weapons.”
“How about you head on out without them?” the woman with the gun said.
“That’s not fair,” Kevin said. He stepped forward as he said it, causing the woman to swivel her sights on him.
“On more step and you’ll have lost more than your weapons.”
“Woah, woah. Okay, message received,” Kevin said, putting his hands back into the air. “Let’s go, guys. It’s okay. We can find kinder hosts somewhere else.”
“Or, at least, a better fight,” Barrett said with a sniff of his nose. “An old man and three little girls hardly constitute a challenge.”
“I can wipe the floor with you, big boy,” said the woman with the machine gun.
“Audrey!” Duncan reprimanded.
“I’d like to see you try, girlie. Unarmed, one-on-one, you stand no chance,” Barrett said. As he spoke, he took a deep breath and inflated his already imposing figure. The muscles beneath his shirt could be seen flexing.
“Want to try me? Or are you scared of losing to a girl?” Audrey responded.
Barrett roared with laughter.
“Audrey, that’s enough!” the old man said. “Do not aggravate them. They’re on their way.”
“Wait!” the smallest of the three women called to her grandfather. “Can’t they stay? If they wanted to hurt us, they would’ve already.”
“It’d be too risky!” Duncan replied.
“But you’ve always said that people need to come together and rebuild this world,” she said.
Duncan flashed her a quick scolding look.
“Sylvie’s right,” the third woman added. “They can help us around the property.” Her eyes danced over Barrett’s large figure. While her middle sister seemed ready to harm him, she merely wanted to be held by him.
“Audrey, talk some sense into your sisters!” Duncan exclaimed. “You ladies know that we can’t invite people at random!”
“We’d be happy to help,” Simon interjected.
Kevin locked eyes with his young counterpart. Sylvie broke eye contact and looked at her feet.
“Yeah, we can help,” Kevin said a little absent-mindedly. He continued to admire the woman before his eyes.
“Wait a minute,” Barrett said, “This guy pulls a pistol on you and you want to help him? What are you going to do? Fetch him water?”
“We made him to spill it,” Kevin said with a shrug.
“Are you guys out of your mind? How can we trust them? What if the old man and these she-devils are planning to kill us in the middle of the night.”
“Oh, now you’re afraid of me!” Audrey teased, loosening her grip on the submachine gun.
“I ain’t afraid of anything,” Barrett snapped.
Simon bursted in laughter. “Buddy, you know you’re agreeing with the old man, right? He doesn’t want you around because he thinks your going to do to him what you think he’s doing to do to you.”
Barrett squinted his eyes, trying to parse the sentence.
“I don’t like it,” Barrett said.
“Neither do I,” Duncan agreed.
“Well, they’re not staying in the house,” Audrey said. She tilted her swooping hair out of her eyes again. “Give them the rotting house.”
Duncan stayed silent. Everyone looked at him as though it was his decision which made everything final.
“Fine, but I’m standing guard during the night. If one of these boys come creeping in the night, I’ll make sure our walls get a nice new shade of red.”
Barrett nodded his head in agreement. “And I’ll take first watch at our place.”
Audrey turned to her sisters. “Morgan, Sylvie, take the food inside. I’ll show these men their residence.” She adjusted the tactical submachine gun in her arms.
Her sisters did what they were told.
“Gentlemen,” Audrey said, leading the men down the slight hill, “Your new abode.” She kicked the front door, which broke free from its hinges. The wood from the door had rotted from the moisture in the air. Wet dust flew from the ground and an acrid smell spewed from the interior of the building.
“Enjoy.”
Audrey left the three brothers and returned to her home.
The three of the brothers exchanged uncomfortable glances and looked at the building. Kevin approached the doorway and peered into the darkness.
“Ghoul!” Kevin shouted.
His brothers ran into the building with their weapons drawn. Kevin threw his arms around his brothers as they looked at remains of a feral ghoul. It had died a long time ago.
“Pay up, boys!” he said with a smile. “Five caps each.”

“I told you there would be nothing in that military check point,” Barrett said. He cleaned his hands from bloodbug residue. “Only abandoned cars and empty cigarette machines.”
“Okay, I was wrong!” Simon admitted. “Is it my fault that I have hope?”
“No one ever knows out here,” Kevin chimed in.
Simon affectionally grabbed his youngest brother by the shoulder.
“See, Barrett, this is what a supportive brother sounds like.”
Barrett grunted.
The three brothers continued to follow the broken asphalt road. In time, the sky above them disappeared behind the ruins of an interstate highway. Its massive concrete columns towered over the horizon. It had cast a long shadow over their route.
Kevin stopped his brothers.
“Is that an elevator?” He pointed to the yellow cable lift that ran up to the overpass.
“I’m not using that,” Barrett quickly responded. He touched his stomach unconsciously, cognizant of his size and weight.
“Yeah, that might be an adventure for another life time,” Simon said, noting the precariousness of the cables that rose up to the ruins of the highway overpass.
Kevin pursed his lips with a modicum of disappointment. As the youngest and smallest of the three, he possessed more daring than his brothers combined. Perhaps this difference was due to the inexperience of his age or the simple fact that Kevin had a different mother than Barrett and Simon. His courage may have been a genetic inheritance that the others lacked.
“House!” Simon spotted the wooden building before his brothers, who still focused on the elevator and the possibility of ascending it.
“Let me guess, there’s going to be treasure inside of it,” Barrett said sarcastically.
“There could be!” Simon replied.
As the young men approached the building, it became apparent it had been apart of a long abandoned settlement. From their higher-ground perspective, they could see the ruins of several buildings roll down the landscape and into the consuming waters of the Charles River. The houses closest to the river had flooded and slowly rotted in the river’s murky water.
“We got a lot of work to do,” Barrett said. His siblings could hear the smile in his words. They knew that there would be at least one piece of worthwhile loot among these buildings. Barrett, however, wanted more than the natural greed of survival. The big man itched for a real fight.
“Raiders, Ghouls, or Mirelurks,” Kevin asked.
“Five caps on raiders,” Barrett said. His hand dropped to the pipe pistol holstered to his thigh.
“Five for mirelurks,” Simon said.
“I guess, I take ghouls.”
The three men moved closer to the first building. The residence, once a beautiful suburban home, had decayed over the two hundred and twenty years since its owners died in the nuclear fallout. Yet, despite the age of home, its door seemed to have been freshly repaired.
Simon, as per usual, approached the entrance with military tact. Barrett positioned himself behind his older brother. He placed one hand on Simon’s shoulder and the other around his pipe pistol. Kevin checked their flank and readied his pipe rifle.
Simon lifted his hand. He counted silently with his fingers.
One. Two. Three.
He grabbed the door and yanked it open. Barrett entered the building, his pipe pistol scanning the interior of the house.
“Clear!”
Simon followed Barrett. Kevin slowly backed into the building. He closed the door behind him.
“Stairs,” Barrett said to his brothers.
Immediately, the big man took the lead, scanning the floor above him with his pistol at eye-level. Simon followed in the wake of his larger brother, keeping his eyes straight to the top of the landing. Kevin stayed on the first floor. He found a corner, pressed his back into it, and crouched. He kept his eye on the front door.
“Clear!” Barrett’s voice rang through the structure.
“Nothing for nobody,” Kevin said, standing from his position and letting his rifle hang limply in his hands. He thought at least one ghoul would be hiding in the house. Their fraternal bottlecap wager would have to wait another house.
“Cheer up! Better luck in the next building.” Simon said as he walked down the stairs. “Right now, we have some time to loot.”
The brothers began the careful examination of the residential building.
Despite two centuries of rain and snow the building seemed to be in good condition. Clearly, since the bombs fell, a series of squatters had made improvements and adjustments over the years. In fact, the house seemed almost luxurious compared to the standards of the Wasteland. The floors had been redone with new planks of wood. The walls had been scraped of their original wallpaper and painted a light seafoam green. Although the glass from the windows had been long destroyed, curtains hung over the wooden shutters that secured the windows from the exterior world.
“Ooo!” Barrett exclaimed upstairs.
“What’d you find?” Simon called out. He stood at the bottom of the staircase and waited for a sign.
“Caps stash!” Barrett appeared with a grey tin can. He shook it and a number of caps inside of it pleasantly jingled.
“And you thought there wouldn’t be any treasure?” Simon laughed to himself.
“And the fridge is full!” Kevin called.
Barrett rushed down the stairs and joined his brothers at the fridge. Together, they drank a bottle of mostly clean water, each taking sips and passing it to the others. Then, they finished a plate of crispy squirrel bits.
“Almost fresh,” Barrett said, shoving a large handful into his mouth.
Simon continued his perusal of the house as he chewed his last portion of squirrel meat. He went to the living room section of the main floor and rummaged through a chest of drawers.
“Women’s clothing?” He lifted a dress from the chest of drawers and showed his brothers. The light green dress seemed to be in relatively good condition. The clean herbaceous smell of carrot flowers wafted into his nose.
“Someone might still live here,” Barrett said, looking at a bouquet of fresh hubflowers on the table.
Kevin looked from one of the windows. “I think he’s just arrived.”
Before Simon and Kevin could arm themselves, the door opened. An old man entered with two buckets of water. At the very moment he saw these three men, he dropped the buckets on the floor and rushed out of the building. One of the buckets spilled its contents across the floor, slowly dribbling down the front steps. Meanwhile, the old man pressed his back against the exterior wall of the building.
“What are you doing in my house?”
“We didn’t know!” Simon shouted back. “We didn’t mean to trespass!”
“Well, you did. Now, what are you going to do? Kill an old man and take his home?”
“Not if you let us leave unharmed!”
“How do I know that you’re not raiders?”
“You can’t,” Simon shouted back. “You can only make a leap of faith.”
“And why would I that?”
“Well, for one thing, there are more of us than there are of you.”
“Send one man out.”
“No!” Simon responded. “How do I know you’re not just going to shoot him the moment he leaves the building?”
“You can’t,” the old man shouted back. “You can only make a leap of faith.”
Simon felt bested by the old man’s negotiating skills.
“I’ll go,” Kevin said to his brothers.
“No, I will.” Barrett put his hand on his younger brother. He would gladly die in his place.
“There’s less of me to hit,” Kevin bantered.
Barrett grunted, but he could not stop himself from smiling.
Simon thought about dissuading his brothers, telling them that no one was going to leave the house, but this show of trust needed to be made. If things went well, there could be a chance that the three of them could profit from this encounter. Perhaps, they could spend the night sleeping inside a warm house and finally be able to get a proper night’s rest.
“I’m coming out,” Kevin shouted to the old man.
“Unarmed. With your hands up! If I see so much as a big iron on your hip, the deal is off.”
Kevin placed his pipe rifle and his switchblade on top of the chest of drawers.
Simon stepped close to his brother and embraced him.
“If he harms you, I will make sure he suffers until his very last breath,” Simon whispered.
Kevin squeezed his brother tightly and went to the door.
“I am approaching the door now,” Kevin shouted. “My hands are up.”
Kevin stepped over the spilled water bucket and crossed the threshold of the house.
“Keeping going,” the old man commanded.
Once Kevin descended the front stairs and reached the hard ground, he felt the old man sweep behind him and check for weapons.
“Do we trust each other?” Kevin said, letting the old man pat down his sides. “I’m alive, so I know I can trust you, but there are still two men inside of the house.”
“Two, huh? I thought there’d be more of you.” The old man met Kevin gaze. His face was wrinkled, freckled, and scarred. His neck-length beard, once nearly black in colour, had become streaked with grey. His moustache faired slightly better, but it too had begun to pale in his old age. Overall, the old man seemed hardened by his experiences in the wasteland, but, despite this hardness, Kevin noticed a softness behind his eyes. They reflected no bitterness or resentment.
“Now what?” Simon called from inside of the house.
“I’m going to come inside with your friend as collateral.”
The old man drew his 10mm pistol and pressed into Kevin’s lower back. Kevin straightened his posture with a reflexive fear. He climbed up the stairs and back into the house, the pistol never losing contact with his spine.
“Welcome to my home, gentleman,” the old man said. “The name is Duncan. I hope you make yourselves comfortable, although, by the looks of yesterday’s dinner, it seems as though you already have.”
Barrett glanced back at the empty porcelain plate. He wiped his greasy hands on his pant legs.
“Watch it, big guy,” the old man said. “You don’t want to make too many sudden movements.”
Barrett looked into his brother’s face. Kevin seemed calm on the surface, but Barrett could see the fear beneath his composure.
“My name is Simon. This is Barrett, and the man you currently threatening is our brother Kevin.”
“Pleasure, gentlemen.”
“We’re travellers. We’ve no particular destination. We’re just trying to survive.”
“Yes, that always seems to be the story. Why aren’t you getting comfortable in Diamond City or Goodneighbor?”
“We’re new to the Commonwealth,” Simon replied.
“Just arrived,” Barrett added.
“Boys, I’m happy to be your first experience in these here parts, but you’re going to have to leave. I can’t risk any trouble.”
“We won’t be any trouble,” Kevin said, looking behind his shoulder.
“Truly, I would like to believe you boys, but you best be going.”
Duncan stepped aside and positioned himself to the side of the room. He tilted his head toward the door with a quick gesture, encouraging Simon and Barrett to leave.
“Now, please.”
“Can we at least get Kevin’s weapons over there?” Simon asked.
“I’ll toss them to you once you’re out of the door. Just go.”
Simon and Barrett complied. They walked out of the house and down the steps. Duncan led Kevin from his house, allowing the young man to move away from the pistol.
“Grandpapa!”
The men turned to see group of three women approaching the house. Two of them carried heavy bags of harvested food, while the third held a tactical submachine gun in her hands. The three of them kept staring at their grandfather, who kept his pistol held toward the brothers.
The woman with the submachine gun lifted the stock to her shoulder. She knew that with her large drum magazine, she could cut down these three intruders without the need to reload.
“We had a small misunderstanding, ladies,” Simon said with a winning smile. He looked at the woman with the submachine gun. Her short dark brown hair swooped over one of her eyes. She flipped her hair out of the way. “We’ll be on our way,” Simon continued, “once your grandfather hands us our weapons.”
“How about you head on out without them?” the woman with the gun said.
“That’s not fair,” Kevin said. He stepped forward as he said it, causing the woman to swivel her sights on him.
“On more step and you’ll have lost more than your weapons.”
“Woah, woah. Okay, message received,” Kevin said, putting his hands back into the air. “Let’s go, guys. It’s okay. We can find kinder hosts somewhere else.”
“Or, at least, a better fight,” Barrett said with a sniff of his nose. “An old man and three little girls hardly constitute a challenge.”
“I can wipe the floor with you, big boy,” said the woman with the machine gun.
“Audrey!” Duncan reprimanded.
“I’d like to see you try, girlie. Unarmed, one-on-one, you stand no chance,” Barrett said. As he spoke, he took a deep breath and inflated his already imposing figure. The muscles beneath his shirt could be seen flexing.
“Want to try me? Or are you scared of losing to a girl?” Audrey responded.
Barrett roared with laughter.
“Audrey, that’s enough!” the old man said. “Do not aggravate them. They’re on their way.”
“Wait!” the smallest of the three women called to her grandfather. “Can’t they stay? If they wanted to hurt us, they would’ve already.”
“It’d be too risky!” Duncan replied.
“But you’ve always said that people need to come together and rebuild this world,” she said.
Duncan flashed her a quick scolding look.
“Sylvie’s right,” the third woman added. “They can help us around the property.” Her eyes danced over Barrett’s large figure. While her middle sister seemed ready to harm him, she merely wanted to be held by him.
“Audrey, talk some sense into your sisters!” Duncan exclaimed. “You ladies know that we can’t invite people at random!”
“We’d be happy to help,” Simon interjected.
Kevin locked eyes with his young counterpart. Sylvie broke eye contact and looked at her feet.
“Yeah, we can help,” Kevin said a little absent-mindedly. He continued to admire the woman before his eyes.
“Wait a minute,” Barrett said, “This guy pulls a pistol on you and you want to help him? What are you going to do? Fetch him water?”
“We made him to spill it,” Kevin said with a shrug.
“Are you guys out of your mind? How can we trust them? What if the old man and these she-devils are planning to kill us in the middle of the night.”
“Oh, now you’re afraid of me!” Audrey teased, loosening her grip on the submachine gun.
“I ain’t afraid of anything,” Barrett snapped.
Simon bursted in laughter. “Buddy, you know you’re agreeing with the old man, right? He doesn’t want you around because he thinks your going to do to him what you think he’s doing to do to you.”
Barrett squinted his eyes, trying to parse the sentence.
“I don’t like it,” Barrett said.
“Neither do I,” Duncan agreed.
“Well, they’re not staying in the house,” Audrey said. She tilted her swooping hair out of her eyes again. “Give them the rotting house.”
Duncan stayed silent. Everyone looked at him as though it was his decision which made everything final.
“Fine, but I’m standing guard during the night. If one of these boys come creeping in the night, I’ll make sure our walls get a nice new shade of red.”
Barrett nodded his head in agreement. “And I’ll take first watch at our place.”
Audrey turned to her sisters. “Morgan, Sylvie, take the food inside. I’ll show these men their residence.” She adjusted the tactical submachine gun in her arms.
Her sisters did what they were told.
“Gentlemen,” Audrey said, leading the men down the slight hill, “Your new abode.” She kicked the front door, which broke free from its hinges. The wood from the door had rotted from the moisture in the air. Wet dust flew from the ground and an acrid smell spewed from the interior of the building.
“Enjoy.”
Audrey left the three brothers and returned to her home.
The three of the brothers exchanged uncomfortable glances and looked at the building. Kevin approached the doorway and peered into the darkness.
“Ghoul!” Kevin shouted.
His brothers ran into the building with their weapons drawn. Kevin threw his arms around his brothers as they looked at remains of a feral ghoul. It had died a long time ago.
“Pay up, boys!” he said with a smile. “Five caps each.”