Okay, okay. Hear me out. I think I'm on what the kids call "copium" but I've been thinking about this and I just can't let it go, I've gotta post it.
Look, I love Ultimate but the Steve discourse is going to kill this game one way or another. I've read everything and I truly feel this is a situation where there are valid points for and against banning Steve, and there is no perfect solution. And that's what worries me more than anything: I think the discourse is going to tear everyone apart. Banning Steve or leaving him be is, one way or another, going to chase off a significant swath of players. My belief is that it's not Steve that's killing Ultimate, but the discussion around him.
I honestly think an official balance patch would be the only thing could finally get everyone to let the subject die. Fix some bugs, change some values, you force everyone to agree to some changes, we're finally settled. But they already told us they were done with patches. Sakurai's moved on and working independently now. The team's disbanded. Who the hell would even make a patch?
I am not the only person to think to ask Sakurai for a balance patch regarding Steve and PMLG.
I'm not the only person to think to ask the Nintendo Twitter for a patch, either.
I don't think this is the avenue - Sakurai, as he is now, has no connection left to Smash's development team, he's off doing his own thing. And that's fine. Let the man have his peace. Nintendo's tired social media intern is probably also reading too many "put Waluigi in Smash" tweets to find the balance patch requests, if they can even do anything about it.
Instead, I have a different suggestion. Bandai-Namco developed Smash 4 and Smash Ultimate. They also have a huge investment in the fighting games scene with Tekken and Dragon Ball FighterZ. Tekken 7 got a final balance patch in October after development on Tekken 8 had already begun, so the game could be left in a better state before they moved onto the next one. DBFZ is getting a final balance patch this year after they had already done a DIFFERENT final balance patch.
Here's why I think Katsuhiro Harada, the Tekken director, is who fans should actually be (POLITELY) asking for a balance patch to Smash Ultimate.

• He's still at Bandai-Namco and is actively working on a fighting game, and with the final Tekken 7 patch he has clearly shown he cares about healthy, balanced games. Bandai-Namco probably has access to the code.
• He knows Sakurai and has a friendly relationship with him. He's in the credits of the game. Last year he wanted EVO's organizers to bring Smash back to the event so he could bully Sakurai into coming. I would call this, at the very least, a passing interest in Smash's competitive scene...? Anyway, if getting Sakurai's blessing for a patch was necessary as a matter of tact, he could probably do it.
• Look, Harada is known to be a... bit of a character. He's one of those guys who will tell you you're stupid. He's famously caustic about rollback. But he does read Twitter! People get responses out of him online all the time. He does seem community-minded despite everything.
• He has a high position at Bandai-Namco. Obviously, Harada isn't going to personally go in and fix PMLG himself, but his relationship to the FGC and his clout within the company make him the guy who I think is most likely to make some movement happen on the idea of a balance patch.
• He posts in English sometimes. That's gotta count for something, right?

No one has thought to ask Harada about a Smash patch. I'm actually kind of surprised?
I think there is a significant chance that, even if enough people brought the state of Smash to Harada in a polite enough way, and even if he did float the idea of putting some people on a patch to the correct people, he wouldn't actually be able to make anything happen. Smash has so many hoops to jump through, developmentally and legally speaking. They'd have to go through Nintendo to make any patch happen, for instance. And obviously, I'm not saying "attack anyone and everyone to beg for a patch." If, by some miracle, my line of thinking makes some movement happen, it's gotta be done as a tactful community effort. I just can't let the idea go - and I am really afraid that Smash is going to tear itself apart if it doesn't get some help.

Au mai ramas doar 3 zile pana cand cei de la guvernare au timp sa puna pe masa reforma sistemului de pensii, in caz contrar, Romania pierde 3 miliarde de euro din PNRR.
Link catre thread-ul anterior: thread
Disclaimer: Nu urmaresc karma farming sau chestii de genul asta, cum am fost acuzat. Asa cum mentionasem, imi doresc ca aceasta problema sa ajunga in atentia a cat mai multor oameni.
Opinia mea vis-a-vis de acest subiect:
Cu toate ca miza este cu totul diferita fata de protestele OUG 13, eu o consider tot o hotie pentru generatiile mai tinere, dar si pentru viitorul tarii. Daca dam semnalul ca este ok ceea ce fac acum (nu ca ar fi fost restul lucrurilor), mi-e ca vor intelege ca pot ignora cu totul cerintele PNRR, pentru ca oricum cetatenii nu sunt revoltati.
Si daca nu suntem revoltati de o idee atat de simplu de inteles, ca milioane de cetateni pierd o suma importanta de bani din cauza, prin comparatie, a catorva oameni, atunci chiar ca suntem total pierduti.
Prefer sa ascult 10 zile de la Voltaj si nu De maine (Am sa trec si peste asta)

Disclaimer: I am on the spectrum of aro ace so it's extremely rare for me to experience attraction towards someone. I had finally met a guy who ticked all my boxes and felt extremely familiar and comfortable to be around. I have separation anxiety after I lost a parent last year and recognise that I'm at fault as well for being complacent. This was his first relationship (we are Asians so dating here isn't all too common.)
He told me that he was looking for something serious and was dating to marry. A week into dating, he had stalked my entire social media, my mum's social media, gave me a list of reasons why he was attracted to me, started sending GIFs of couples snuggling and embracing each other. He also started sexting me and that made me uncomfortable. He did not take the hint though and asked me to go to a hotel room with him so we could sleep with each other. I protested that it was too soon and that I wanted to learn more about him. We did make out on the next date in his car and he gave me a hickey on my chest. He asked for the pictures over and over again until I had to say NO firmly a couple of times.
I was also on a sabbatical due to burn out and poor mental health. He was anxious and looking for a partner who could contribute financially. I asked him if he would be patient with me and stay. That it would take some time for me to figure my future out. He encouraged me to open up to him and promised that he would be here for me. That I wasn't alone anymore and that I could reach out to him whenever. He also started giving me advice on how to take care of my overall health, diet and career. I asked him why and he joked that he had the right to do so.
I asked him to share his thoughts and feelings with me on dates but he wouldn't because he was too afraid to open up. I would frequently ask him for reassurance and he would tell me things looked promising and that we were compatible. If he sensed that things weren't working out, he would let me know.
We celebrated Valentine's Day together. We were kissing each other but were interrupted. He started talking about how perfect my breasts were and how he cursed that man for interrupting us.
The next day, I told him that I was now comfortable to sleep with him. But he refused. He told me he was overwhelmed by how close we had gotten in very little time. He wanted to hold back. He asked me not to show affection by words because that made him uncomfortable. That the belongingness, affection and interest I felt towards him was too much too early. I was extremely confused.
I grew infuriated and asked him if he wanted to continue dating me or not. He answered that nobody paid attention to him anyway. That he was afraid if he let me talk to other people, he would lose me completely. I lost my mind here and lashed out.
I told him he was trying to mould me into a perfect partner, did not care to understand if I was comfortable or not, refused to learn anything about me and did not put any effort into communicating his needs or understanding mine. He apologized sincerely for making me feel this way and asked me not to be pessimistic. That he would try to put in more effort. But I could sense defeat on his face. He was too tired from work and barely had any energy left. He wanted to collapse. I was worried for him but also angry. I warned him to not change his mind the next day because I was tired of the mixed signals. He promised me he wouldn't.
But he did. He broke up the next day. He told me he had infact lost interest and he only realized that after I pointed it out to him. He told me my expectations of wanting to text him everyday for an hour or two or meet once a week (he lived 10 minutes away) were unreasonable. I asked him to call and discuss this with me but he ghosted me.
The sudden break up after giving me reassurance was not ideal for me and had left me anxious. I was getting calls for interviews and I needed him by my side because he was the one to push me into getting a job. I called him and asked if he could be there for me as friends at least. He asked me not to force things and let relationships grow more naturally. That people who want to stay in my life will stay regardless. What a cryptic answer? I was frustrated again and asked him to be there for me. He asked me not to hold him on a gun point. He asked me to meet new people, love myself, focus on self growth and get stronger.
I feel so embarrassed. Was I being too forceful and unreasonable? He literally refused to take no for an answer and was micro managing my life for a month. I recognise I should have spotted the red flags and stopped talking to him. But he was so caring and sensitive in person that I was in denial and wanted to see the best in him.
I asked him to take accountability for love bombing me, leading me on and then ghosting me. He refuses to apologise because he genuinely liked me but then just lost interest. He doesn't think he's disrespected me at all. That this is normal in dating.
Was he controlling and manipulative? Or am I just over reacting?

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His death wasn't completely unexpected but surprising in the moment, he hadn't been well for a while and we knew it was really just a matter of time. He loved us for sure but was only ever nice when we behaved in a way he approved of. We had a very superficial relationship, he wasn't particularly kind and after my parents' divorce he disappeared for 10+ years. He was conservative and rigid, married a harsh woman with unkind children of her own, and didn't have much understanding for anyone else's perspective. Our feelings and decisions were only valid when he agreed they were, otherwise they were met with derision and scorn. He was never really all that interested in me and my sisters as people, especially me who didn't fit into the little box he had of what a woman, or a career, or a life should look like (ie not married to a wealthy conservative church going man). He played very obvious favorites with one sister from the day she was born, absolutely classic golden child.
So here I am with a toddler and another baby due in less than three weeks, and all I feel is some kind of relief. I don't have to pretend with him anymore and only tell him things he would approve of, and I don't have to deal with his wife anymore.
And I am overwhelmed with gratitude and love for the family I've built. And the parent I get to be to them and companion to my partner after lots of therapy and reading and reflection. I get to tell them I love them unconditionally and their feelings are valid no matter what they are, and I get to support them in whatever they choose to do and be proud of them. I'm not going to tell my toddler he needs to be grown up now and give in to his little sister all the time, that's not his role. And it's ok that he didn't want either of the little spoons I offered this morning but the other, secret, little spoon and then still got very upset about it... life is hard and sometimes you need a cry and a hug when things aren't going your way. I will teach them to be kind and compassionate and that there is more than one way to live successfully. And that I have a partner who loves me uncondiontally and I him too, and that he's a real partner in parenting and I don't have to hide or sneak around like my mom or my dad's second wife did.
I definitely feel a bit odd about not being sadder. But maybe that's the lesson, too, that you can't create authentic relationships when you don't accept people for who they are.

I am yet to finish season 2, and while I do enjoy it a bit I think it’s been way over praised by critics. (8.8/10 IMDB, 94% Rotten Tomatoes)
It might just be because i’m so into the Premier League it’s hard to sort of believe they are in the League but i just don’t love it as much as others.
Ted and Hannah are by far the best characters, and best acted… but the rest of the cast isn’t amazing in my opinion and I just never get the feeling that they are playing in the premier league.

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[REQ]($300)(#Baltimore, MD, US) (repay $375) pay $100 on 11/18, $275 12/5 (PayPal, Zelle)

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Running behind on bills. Got unexpected doctors bills for knee surgery earlier this year. I am working full time, got a pay raise effective this week and my birthday is coming up (my parents always give me money) so payback not an issue. I have borrowed and paid back 2 loans. Willing to show proof of what needed

Hello everyone on Reddit, my name is Vladyslava, I'm 21 y. o., I'm from Ukraine. I almost completely lost my ability to work in December 2019 after severe long-term stress. I assume that I have complex post-traumatic disorder, borderline personality disorder and mixed anxiety-depressive disorder (however, tests for all mental disorders, depending on my condition at that time, I pass 90-95 percent). I was sexually abused multiple times when I was 4, 6, 17 and 19 years old. Since then, I often stay in terrible dissociative states (depersonalization and derealization), which I am very ashamed of, because I blame myself for everything that happens around me. Permanent fear and tension always accompanies me. In an attempt to forget all this negative experience and muffle the pain, I started using various drugs from the age of 4 (I have not been using since January 20, 2023).
https://preview.redd.it/xrgybip5ufqa1.jpg?width=961&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=6c1ccb686f18ea1395f16083b1689466b7739058
Sometimes it comes to the point that for a week I can forget how to walk, eat or speak.
My obsessions and compulsions are manifested in the fact that I can clean for months for 20 hours a day, while not leaving the house due to panic attacks and ruminations about the imminent death. With the outbreak of the war in Ukraine, my painful conditions, of course, worsened, and now I have completely missed the opportunity to cope with them. I also suffer from alternations of compulsive overeating and anorexia nervosa, from which my weight for 2-3 months can fluctuate between 30 and 80 kilograms.
During periods of acute stress, paranoid psychoses are covered, from which one has to leave without the use of drugs.
Since the age of 4, I have been thinking over plans for my suicide for 2015 every day, which differ from 3 to 4 months. The last time I i tried to kill myself on January 28, 2023, I do everything in my power to never think about it.
Also, at the age of 10, I was diagnosed with stage 4 kyphoscoliosis of the thoracic spine, but due to the lack of money in my family and my inability to ask for help when I needed it, I just had to put up with it and just try to somehow live on with it.
Now it is vitally necessary for me to raise money in order to have spinal surgery, make an appointment with a qualified psychiatrist, undergo psychotherapy, undergo laser vision correction and finally get away from my unbearable crazy mother, who used all kinds of psycho-emotional violence against me during my upbringing.
Despite all external barriers and internal chaos, I managed to graduate from high school with a high GPA and LLB six months ago.
In general, I miraculously survived, because I never planned to live up to 21 years old.
Thanks in advance to everyone who will respond to my desperate attempt to escape from their own sick mind and hands!
Below I leave my details for financial assistance:
BTC: 3FJLuhFpxDQsdtudQHpuCETazhQD6ygQ1V
ETH: 0xdfad4e08a42febc9f5bdd93fc8f2cb9cdac8145a
USDT: 3Bs3xRMF7mho4eBonC2gPRqQv5rKyA2M1o
TRX: TBRfHz1RBeG1du8LPqcNsNc8kaSaVMf8A5
LTC: LfptYoEHDuCvGGnsBLuTr8ud5VyioH5UT9
DOGE: DG8Htz9MTRZKRjnhi7mu2JscaXH6f2eb6u
XMR: 88PRrGLreBb6qWnFkZcdsJRACWKr7nqEuRSkoWR1EVfXVaURqjppDCuU5qfCsXxhQs1Z1pr9gUoC2JHTBn4qRahwAm3e5c8

I’m laying next to him as I type this. It’s taken me days to reach this decision but I’ve ultimately decided that I am going to leave him in the morning.
I want to start off by saying a cheater is always a cheater. We were friends for years and I’ve known of his infidelities. But like every other person, I just didn’t think it would happen to me. I don’t know why I thought that.
We recently moved in together, about 3 months ago. Since then, I’ve guessed his password for his phone, which actually didn’t require much thinking, and I’ve watched him go behind my back, lie, cheat and cover it all up with a smile.
I’ve known for days if not weeks that he’s just been pretending all along. Using me to get the comfort he wants and seeking everything else besides me. The final straw: he connected with his ex-girlfriend and had sex with her. We just had sex the night prior.
As I sit here and type this, I feel more safe in my decision. I do feel the need to start off by saying I apologize for invading his privacy. But it ultimately brought me to my destiny of finally being free of his control, selfishness and spell.
I’ve known for years that he wasn’t the one. That he was selfish enough to do anything to me or anyone else just to get what he wants. I was just hoping that I had it wrong. And when we moved in together I figured I would finally get the piece of him that I’ve always wanted. But realize, it’s just a piece. I’ll never truly have him.
Anyways, I’ve already packed my things in secrecy this evening. I don’t want the apartment. I don’t want the furniture. I’ve been in this spell for the last 10 years, of lies and anguish and hurt that I never deserved. Tomorrow, I move forward.

THIS WAS MY FIRST IRON BANNER AND ALL I’VE GOTTEN WERE AUTUMN WINDS AND LIKE 4 TOTAL PIECES OF ACTUAL IRON BANNER GEAR,
AM I CURSED? WILL I ONLY BE ABLE TO TO GET AUTUMN WINDS FOR NOW ON?
IS LITERALLY ANYTHING WLSE ONLY A FLEETING DREAM?
WHEN I WAKE UP WILL MY FAMILY BE REPLACED WITH AUTUMN WINDS?
also this event was pre good
My rating: -2 sanity out of 10

Hi everyone, I'm writing a book, and just curious as to any feedback that people may have for my first chapter, I uploaded a previous draft before, a very early draft I might add, and now I'm looking for some good old fashioned feedback.
For more information about my book, check out my youtube channel at Crimson Clover - YouTube
Thanks, also the channel is very rough, it was my first time making videos and thus fairly poorly made, however I am attempting to improve it by making less book relevant content, which will allow me to improve my basic skills.
Chapter One :
Divinity. That is what connected the walls surrounding Dundis castle, not stone or metal, this was not a mere wall but a divine gift from ones above. Divinity sealed the wall, made it whole, the walls sealed together without mark or blemish, something no man could ever replicate. The wall had stood for a century, and would likely last ten more, there was no weakness, no flaw in design. 50 metres tall the wall was unscalable, unbreakable. No man could break the wall, it was the Vaunghe empire’s crowning gift, their wonder of the world. Those that were hired to clean the wall’s dirt and grime were heralded as the truly faithful, and all longed to help the gift of the gods. And yet despite this the Alizian’s watched, standing with armies around the great wall, waiting to breach its crust and destroy the core.
The Vaunghe had watched their foes throw everything they had, hundreds of men attacking the steel doors of the wall to no avail, an attempted archer attack quickly squashed by the wall's height. The Alizian military was strong, a blend of the Alizian warriors and Strolim blacksmiths made for a truly terrifying army. The army was so terrifying that the Vaunghe inside the castle doubted there were any more Vaunghe troops left, this was the end to a long battle between man and man. Even the soldiers left weren’t particularly important, just those lucky enough to guard the king and a few trainees. But the Vaunghe felt their luck running out.
The food supplies had run low, even if the nobles weren’t in the castle there was no chance of resupply. The few men who had eaten in the past few days stood alert, gazing down from the ramparts at the enemy. The soldiers knew they had to either surrender or fight, but the Vaunghe were passionate people, they could never leave behind their identity in favour of life. So the men waited, bows and arrows at the ready, for the next attack. Heavy items such as ingots and chairs lined the rampart, ready to be thrown off at a moments notice.
They had waited in this position for many cycles, and as day turned to night, and night turned to day the Vaunghe were exhausted, finished with whatever feeble attacks these barbarians had planned. They could throw whatever armies and arrows they wanted at the wall but it would remain unphased, forevermore. When the Alizian’s next attacked they would be met with the last strength of the Vaunghe, and it would be a story remembered for milenia by man and the gods.
As the morning sun rose over the wall, the enemy was revealed in all their glory. Even from so high above the Vaunghe could see the glint of silver from the Alizian military. The bright greens of the Alizian armour created a dazzling sensation that they were one with the grass, which blended in so perfectly with their clothes. They stood in their thousands, armed with whatever they could find, and even on the wall the men could see him.
The slaughterer, the murderer, the man, the myth and the legend Osmund stood alone on an overlooking hill. The fiend was well known by the Vaunghe, he was likely the greatest foe that had come from the opposing sides. Vaunghe generals often fled at his coming, or surrendered first, but rumour had it that Osmund gave no mercy. Overseeing his army to destroy everything that was left, the Vaunghe soldiers knew today really was the end. The figure on the hill moved closer to his army and screamed. The battle-cry of the Alizian’s shook fear into each of the Vaunghe atop the rampart, being so loud that it even reached so high.
The hundreds of troops began to move in sync, forming three individual groups of soldiers, with 10 metre spaces between each. Each contingent comprised six hundred men, easily dwarfing the 82 Vaunghe soldiers that were left. But the Vaunghe were not afraid, at least not afraid of a breach anytime soon. These walls were built to withstand any damage, no man could breakthrough one.
Between the troops was movement, indeed there seemed to be movement down all three rows of men in blue. The Strolime empire had finally revealed themselves, with their short stature and mental prowess the Strolime were gifted inventors not expected to appear on the battlefield. And yet here they were, almost one hundred of them hauling forth three large metallic objects. The sun bounced off of these objects into the Vaunghe’s eyes.
None of the men had ever seen objects like these, seemingly composed of pure metals and on wheels. Some thought they were a testament to the gods, some holy objects, others believed it to be some new invention from the Strolime, however none of them could say anything for certain as they were pushed closer and closer to the wall. The Strolomites stopped in their advance, approximately 20 metres away from the wall. The purpose of these objects had yet to dawn on the men, although one of the younger men on the rampart claimed he could see small objects poking through the metal, which was now aimed at a forty-five degree angle towards the wall.
As the Strolimites halted their advance many began to move away into the safety of the Alizian wall, likely afraid of any precautionary Vaunghe archers. One of them, a rather short and plump soldier, stayed with the object, placing a hand on it and turning to the wall. It was a fleeting moment, but for a second it seemed the man was gazing at the Vaunghe soldiers in shame. One last condemnation to the ones that began this war, before it would all come crashing down. But then the moment passed, and the short man moved as the rest did, doing a slight zig zag to avoid arrows.
And now, just as quickly they had come, the Strolomite’s were gone in the ranks of the Alizians, still waiting in their groups for something, and then they came. Three figures, two women and a man, moved between the lines just as the Strolimites before them. These three wore no armour, only the greens of Alizia upon their tunics. They stood beside the objects and began to reach their arms into the underside of it. Before the Vaunghe’s eyes the objects began to turn slightly, aiming even more directly at the wall.
One of the Vaunghe had enough of this display, and raised his bow. There were low winds on this day, and he was a good enough shot to reach at least one of the Alizian soldiers. He aimed his bow, finger on the drawstring, and released. It is likely that this arrow would’ve drawn first blood in this battle, however the arrow never reached its target.
In the split second before the release of the bow, the Vaunghe noticed the smoke billowing out of the bottom of the devices, the flames that shot out, and finally they noticed for not even a fraction of a second the object that shot out of the metallic thing, something white and red that hit the wall in an instant.
The wall shook, and the following barrage of these objects shattered any notion of divinity. Crashing and crumbling the rampart was launched, sending soldiers flying everywhere. The Vaunghe beside the wall were subject to the falling rubble, both the crumbling stone of the walls and the miscellaneous objects they had left upon the wall. All of the objects crushed the few Vaunghe left, save for the few sickly starving soldiers left inside the castle’s inner walls.
Down went the walls, such a harsh strike against the wall that nothing stood in the path of this monster. The roaring splattered through the castle, the screams of the falling wall waking the King himself from his slumber. Such a vast creation had fallen in seconds before the might of the Alizian’s, and now there was nothing left but to watch the battle unfold.
Smoke flooded the inner walls of the castle, casting the few remaining into fits of coughing and blindness. The walls finished their crumbling, and yet the roars didn’t stop. These were not the roars of the wall but the war cries of the soldiers outside, and they began to get louder, echoing through the walls of Dundis and into the ears of the weak nobles and soldiers.
Through the smoke they came, weapons raised and charging the weak. The few that tried to fight were slaughtered, cut down by a sea of green soldiers. Those that were choking, sputtering or raising their hands in defeat were spared, hauled through the hordes and into one of the stables facing the inner wall. They were to be tried and jailed, for no human regardless of their crime should be killed. It is simply not the Alizian way.
Out of the one hundred and fifty two people who were in Dundis, forty two had died in the wall’s destruction, and a further eleven were detained by the Alizian military. There was nothing that the Vaunghe could do, save for locking their doors, shield themselves and hold out for as long as possible. The Vaunghe forces built barricades in their castle, locking away the Alizian combatants for as long as possible. And during all of this Osmund waited. Waiting for his time to end this war, this travesty of battle that had gone on for too long, and that time finally came.
* * * *
Osmund stood alone atop the hill, and watched the madness unfold. The walls crumbled at the face of these weapons with no more effort than a straw house, and the plumes of smoke assaulted his men, although not to the extent of the inner wall. After a few moments of sputtering and choking the men cheered, for this was the moment that they had been waiting for, the end of such a long war now in the Alizian’s favour.
The Vaunghe capital was in shambles, their military long crushed underneath Osmund’s almighty power, and all that was left was the King. Hiding behind his walls as if he didn’t deserve this loss, this final failure in his life. Osmund was willing to spare as many people as he could, it was the Alizian code, but there would be no mercy for the King. This wasn’t one final battle between two great armies, that conflict happened weeks ago, this was the last breaths of a psychotic monarch being silenced amongst the last of his troops.
Osmund gazed longingly at Dundis, the ruined walls and advancing soldiers and doubted. He felt something was off, something was very wrong with all of this. His heart began to thump, as Osmund’s eyes turned every way to understand what was wrong, what abnormality was here. It grew and grew, Osmund began to shake at what was about to happen, nothing was right here Osmund should be somewhere else helping someone, there’s something wrong here something very-
Peace. Osmund’s heart stopped thumping, body stopping its perpetual shaking. He looked again to the marching troops, now almost entirely inside the walls, and looked back to his back, and the reserve Strolomites that now stood. They were cheering, marvelling at the success of the assault, and how the god’s gift had saved so much effort on their part.
Such strange creations composed of metal and flame, Osmund marvelled at the power the gods possessed. These devices were so unique in design Osmund doubted if any army could defeat them. The large red tubes they released could easily destroy an entire village by itself, but with one hundred of them an entire valley could be bathed in flames. Something truly abnormal in this world, something so parallel to the code of battle that no army would ever think of it.
The Vaunghe were once considered to be the greatest fighters, with the tournaments they created bringing forth the greatest warriors from throughout the land. Their dedication and power were unmatched in ferocity and violence, some called the Vaunghe the standing due to their unmatched will to always get back up. Osmund recalled his days in the tournaments, those peaceful days when he was not yet a hero to people, but a simple military man. He was still only Osmu back then, and yet even those of the time knew he would be something special. As Christoff used to say, ‘Ozzie you’re going places, big ones’. Osmund missed Christoff, It had been so long since their last meeting, and all Osmund wanted was to meet again one last time.
Osmund’s assistant came to him, a younger Strolomite by the name of Gizmu. Gizmu was rather muscular for a Strolomite, a strong figure contrasting his associates' plumper bodies, and stature was fairly tall for one of his people at 6’5 ft tall. Hazel hair protruded through a blue helmet, and for the first time Osmund considered what his assistant could look like. Gizmu was one of the many Strolomite’s who refused to show their face until military success, a tradition that Osmund respected. He had no doubt that Gizmu's true face would one day be revealed to him, as the man possessed genuine prowess in the fields of agriculture, something sorely missed in the modern military.
“Osmund, your team is preparing now, they’ll come soon. I advise you to prepare your armour sir, as it won’t be long before you’re sent in.” Osmund sensed mild concern in Gizmu’s voice, but didn’t pursue it.
“Thank you Gizmu, my friend. I’ll begin my preparations, tell the guests to meet me here when they are fully prepared. And do ensure they understand that there is still risk of injury on this mission, ensure each of them wears their armour.” Osmund’s voice was deep and echoed his long life, commanding a sense of authority amongst all Alizian forces.
Osmund left the hill, passing the cheering Strolomite’s and the peasant farmers who supported the army, and entered the rows of tents. They stretched out on either side, one for every four soldiers, until he reached his own tent. Entering Osmund was surprised to discover a fellow commander still asleep in his bed, snoring away peacefully.
Osmund removes his upper clothing, the clean tunic falling to the ground. While removing these clothes Osmund kicks the sleeping man in the leg, which doesn’t actually amount to anything rather than halting his snoring. Osmund kicks the sleeping soldier again, this time in the buttocks, which does a far better job of riling him. The man looks around wide-eyed, before settling onto the sight of the giant Osmund.
“Hey, why'd you kick me? I almost had a bleedin’ heart attack don’t you know not to meddle with a sleepin man?”
“Don’t you know that you were meant to be on the battlefield at the crack of dawn? I don’t know what kind of promotion you’re expecting when you aren’t even going on the battlefield. Do you really want to be Balmun forever?” Osmund spoke coldly, now reaching for his chestplate.
“Well no sir. But the thing is I actually have a very cunning plan, I thought of it all myself.” A smile falls upon the man’s face, whose head bears an uncanny resemblance to a potato.
“And what is that?” Osmund halted his preparations briefly.
“Well if I say I was there but didn't actually go, who’d think I wasn’t? I can just sleep through it all until the battle is won and no one would be the wiser.” Osmund puts a hand onto Balmun’s fleshy shoulder.
“A fine plan, if I wasn’t your commanding officer you buffoon. By the gods I believe some divine creator mistakenly put a turnip in your head instead of a brain because no noble’s son has ever been as frankly idiotic as you have. You’re coming with me to the battlefield, and I suggest you get dressed or you’ll be facing the last of the Vaunghe army with your flopping cock dancing for all to see.” Balmun stood and began to slip some clothes on, as Osmund completed his own set of armour.
Osmund’s armour bore the mark of a noble family, some rich fools who wanted their family crest to be associated with a bloody conflict and a dangerous murderer. Osmund wore it because of the armour’s quality, customfit to encompass Osmund’s 9’5 ft tall body, something no other armour was able to achieve. Osmund’s height was always an oddity, reaching far above the average 8ft heights of most Alizian’s, and making him one of the tallest figures in the lands. It was this height and his skin’s colour that earned him the name of the black death, which he wasn’t particularly fond of due to the mention of his skin. And even then Osmund certainly didn’t feel like a black death, whatever that was meant to be, rather he felt like death itself. Osmund was to be fifty years old by the end of the week, and it showed on his body. The hair that was left on his head was grey, and while still possessing an impressive form Osmund’s body was not in its prime, he was old.
Osmund looked at himself in the full body mirror, grabbing his longsword and leaving the tent, dragging a half dressed Balmun with him. Back through the tents they travelled, back past the now eager Strolomite’s and atop the hill where Osmund’s infiltration team stood. In any other battle Osmund would’ve despised the one that left this group with him, a collection of subpar and mediocre soldiers with all the military future of an Otter in a stew. But then again Osmund’s battle history did feature a lot of important people dying under his watch, so perhaps this was for the better.
The force began with Edmun, a cross between a prostitute and a noble who unfortunately takes more from the noble. An egotistical brat, as well as a greedy goblin of anything that isn’t bolted down, Osmund had borne the unfortunate duty of his company for months, since the initial assault on the capitol. The man could barely hold a weapon, save for slight skill with a flail of all things which he wore by his side. It was a gold plated flail as well, specifically made for beating in the heads of the poor Vaunghe soldiers stupid enough to get close. Blonde hair obscured blue eyes that spoke to his red-light mother, in fact for a noble’s son Edmun had all the appearance of an incestuous dullard. The man had survived by pure luck, and was the only casualty that Osmund wanted his side to suffer.
The Enick twins Humun and Eumun were up next, named after their family crest of the god of alcohol Enick. In contrast to Edmun these were a pair of real soldiers, Osmund had seen the fruits of their labour many times. They were great at the art of flanking, Humon’s greataxe paired alongside Eumun’s spears proved to be an unbeatable combination. The only issue that Osmund had with the pair was their… peculiar relationship. While the two were great fighters, whenever they were together anything else became impossible to comprehend. Osmund had once caught the pair attempting to seduce a goat wearing a knight’s helm, and while they were drunk there is still clear evidence of idiocy amongst them. The pair were identical in appearance, burly figures of 8’5ft, short cut black hair and overgrown beards stretching down their faces, however the distinguishing feature between the two was Eumon’s cleft lip, which gave his speech a lisp.
Josmu was far more a scholar than a soldier, although Osmund enjoyed his presence greatly. Since they first met the pair had hit it off, often discussing each other’s lives in Alizian taverns across the kingdom. A gifted archer, Josmu was the son of two aspiring poets and enlisted into the military voluntarily to assist in the war efforts. Osmund had a great deal of respect for the man, and hoped that the two would one day have a drink together, and ruminate on the past once more.
And then there was Jumun, a gifted soldier and one of the few Osmund thought could take him in his prime. Long strands of red hair ran down her rough face, a pointed nose and peculiar eyebrow shape giving her a perpetual look of disappointment. At a height of 9’2 ft she stood almost toe to toe with Osmund, in fact there were many aspects about her that reminded Osmund of himself. The first was her attitude, she treated every war as a tragedy of its own, and yet she would never fail to perform against her enemies. Skilled in most weapons Jumun’s life had been long and arduous, her worn out armour covered in patches and dents. Osmund had offered her a new set of armour once, to which she vehemently refused, telling Osmund that she wished to end the war in the armour she started it in. Currently she held a single large sword nearly identical to his own, and Osmund predicted that she couldn’t wait for the battle to be over.
The group stood facing the smoking walls, watching the now descending Strolomite’s retrieve the three gifts from the gods. Pushing them back up the hill would take tremendous strength and a long time, which is why nearly double the number of Strolomite’s assisted in the endeavour. Osmund cleared his throat, prompting the looks of the team. All of their eyes were of Balmun, who was somehow already panting after a 2 minute drag through the ground. Osmund released the man and pushed him towards his new comrades, to which he sulked.
Osmund could see through the smoke of the ruins now, noting the strangely high number of bodies present from Osmund’s view. It appeared that there were more forces than originally estimated, as it was initially guessed there were around one hundred and fifty soldiers inside. Judging by the number of corpses inside those numbers clearly forgot to account for the possibility of trainees inside of the castle. This may be a slightly larger fight than initially predicted, although even supposing there were another hundred or so trainees locked inside rooms there were things Osmund could do against that.
“Alright then, good to see that some of you actually bothered to wake up today, Balmun, and I think we all know that this mission is going to end the war.” Balmun raised his hand.
“Yes Balmun?”
“Sir I have a very cunning pl-”
“Shove your plans up your slacker buttocks, you idiot. Now then, I’m gonna say this once, because quite frankly the more chances I give Balmun to interrupt the more likely I’ll butcher myself with this sword. Now then we are the backbone to the forces, our mission is to help take individual points of conflict from alternative points. We will accomplish this with the leaked maps of the castle gained from Vaunghe intelligence. Now then, originally it was believed that we were dealing with only around one hundred and fifty troops, but it looks like someone didn’t remember the number of rookie troops that are trained here, so we could be looking at a few more troops than expected.” Osmund saw the hand raised but tried to ignore it. The man with the potato for a head seemed adamant however, and raised his hand higher. When that didn’t work he raised both arms.
“By the gods what is it?”
“Well sir, what kind of weapons do you think they have?” Osmund stopped in his tracks, not expecting anything even related to an actual important question. A smile formed on his face, it seems that even fools can think every now and again.
“Decent question my friend, we can probably expect the basic mix of swords and axes, likely shields also, but we may have one or two archers running around however it’s unlikely any survived the wall’s collapse.”
“That is good Osmund, once we take a few down I need a weapon, I like the swords myself.”
“What’s wrong with your sword?”
“I left it in the tent sir.” Osmund cupped his hands into his face, cringing against the stupidity of this man.
“Listen…. just everyone follow me please, I mean by the gods man. Come on. Listen I don’t think we will need any armour with us today, we have the single thickest piece of meat just over there as we speak.” Osmund points towards Balmun, who turns to see what everyone is looking at. Without another word Osmund begins to walk down the hill towards the castle, muttering things that even the gods consider a little racy.
* * * *
The ruins of Dundis stood firm in their strength, with the ruined walls blemishing what was once a grand fortress that none had penetrated. Tall spires protrude from the shapeless stone complex. Along the gateway was a path leading directly into the Dundis entrance, which stood slightly ajar. Fragments of the wall had crushed many parts of the outside, with simple wooden stables and trees crushed by the weight of the plummet of the debris. The architecture that remained spoke to the complexities of the Vaunghe, as spiralling patterns adorned the walls of the castle, interlaced with rare jewels that coated the walls. The Vaunghe were so fortunate with minerals that one could find them coating their walls, despite the fact that no one other than a fellow Vaunghe was ever meant to see such a thing.
A veil of embarrassment and determination clashed as the group descended the hill, weapons at the ready. The group had reached the ruins of the wall now, debris coating the grass and the bodies that were surely there. Even destroyed Osmund still felt some of that divine power the Vaunghe always babbled about, he felt the strength in the walls and not for the first time wondered why the gods would bestow such a gift upon such a vile group.
The group began clambering through the ruins, over the cracked pieces of stone and through the divine walls final remains. There was a smell here, the remnants of smoke colliding with the smell of blood, but there was a third smell, one that Osmund knew well. It was the smell of inevitability, heavy in the hair. That which is unlikely to happen always will happen, and when it does the smell adds to it all, the smell of fate and destiny runs through this place.
Inevitability hides everywhere, in the trees and the skies, carried by the wind through it all. From nature it was born, but in man it thrives, the building’s will one day fall, the kingdoms will fade away, and everything will one day lead to something else. From every beginning comes an end, and each end becomes a beginning, this is how it has always been. This place thought itself against such things, and inevitability infected its walls, creeping along slowly rotting the once great walls into a hellish nightmare. Now the bubble has burst, and the smell of inevitability crowds the world, taking over everything.
Moaning. A low whimper. A cry for something. Calls for assistance. A terrified yell. Osmund approaches the source of these noises, his team close behind. At the source of these screams is a Vaunghe soldier, somehow alive after the rampart’s collapse, covered in piles of stone and smoke. His outstretched hand reaches towards Osmund, who in turn takes it.
The man mutters something, sputters blood, and begins to fade. As he does, Osmund moves towards the rocks, feeling against it. Somehow the rocks aren’t as heavy as they should be, and Osmund slowly moves the rocks. The first and second rocks move, and after some struggling Osmund moves the third rock, revealing a bloody leg, spurting forward. Osmund realises how the man survived, the remains of a metal box squashed around him. As the rampart fell the man landed inside, narrowly missing an immediate demise. Now he sat, bleeding in and out of consciousness, and moaning for help. Osmund put his hands around the man, slowly lifting him, and moving forwards into the inner walls.
There are running medics here, and as they see Osmund’s approach they run to him, taking the injured man and placing him onto a table. The man may survive, they told Osmund, however his bleeding may take too much from him. As Osmund turns to leave he hears the voice, the message of the man.
“T-t-th-than-” It was shaky, interrupted by coughs and convulsions, but bore strength, and Osmund felt the ghost of a smile play upon him.
“It wasn’t an issue.” And with that Osmund left the tent, admiring the surroundings in focus for the first time. Eyes bore into him from his party, and yet no one said anything, they couldn’t. Many had called Osmund a monster in his time, they had seen him do bad things to bad people, and yet none would call him a monster, for there is no such thing. Osmund is not some black death, he’s another beast entirely.
For the first time Osmund admired his surroundings, the inner walls were now filled with wreckage, and looked back to the tent. It was amazing how quickly the medics could establish tents, the battle had occurred for less than an hour and already there were three tents established side by side. Besides the wounded Vaunghe soldier were three other injured soldiers, each seeming to be hit by a minor injury likely from the smoke inhalation.
The captured and surrendered were lined up against the castle's wall, being carefully monitored by over sixty members of the contingent. There were only around twelve or thirteen of the captured, smoke-covered and sputtering. On the ground were bodies, those rookies that tried so valiantly to protect what they cared for. They now lay, looking up to the sky blindly.
Osmund saw the bodies and felt his stomach turn. The desire came back. The shaking returned, alongside it the painful sharp stabbing thoughts. Everything changed, he forgot who he was. What kind of person would approve of this, what even was Osmund was he real or fake, how is he even conceiving things like this. What is reality and why is it real, why can’t he understand-
Silence. Peace. Osmund returned to himself, the shaking never happening at all. He looked down at the bodies and continued to walk. There was nothing he could do for them, not anymore. The eyes of his group bore into him, shattering something that had broken a long time ago. He raised his hand and motioned for his team to follow, leaving this travesty of death and life behind.
Footsteps. Osmund turned to their echoing sound, the way they bounced through the place was unbelievable, the way it echoed between the walls and the castle structure itself. Through open castle gates he ran, a messenger in green, sword in its scabbard and now approaching Osmund. The man tripped on something, a large rock of some sort, before standing, dusting himself off and reaching the group.
“Osmund, we have hit the enemy’s points of defence.” The man was young, maybe twenty, and no more than twenty five.
“And? Where are they?”
“There are three fronts, the first is in the scout’s tower where a group of Vaunghe are amassing weapons and barricades fast. We can no longer enter the tower, as the amount thrown down makes common entrance impossible. The second location is the garden, where we believe the last of the nobles and the King himself are. We’ve faced harsh opposition from the enemies, who have formed a wall of shields to protect the door. Finally we have the guard’s quarters, where a few amount of Vaunghe are in active combat as we speak, although that will likely be taken without need for intervention.”
“Good job soldier.”
“Thank you sir.”
Osmund removes a slip of paper from his garb, and admires it in the sunlight. It was a complex map of Dundis, including the secret passages and escape routes of the entire place. It cost the annulment of many Vaunghe men and women, but was worth all the effort. Consulting the map Osmund noted the existence of an escape passageway inside of the tower. It was obscured behind a wall, thus explaining the lack of windows on that side.
“Report back to your commander that we’ll begin with the tower, there are several clear passages into an alternative staircase. Launching a pincer attack we’ll defeat the enemy and allow for the redistribution of forces. By that time I expect the guard’s quarters to be taken, allowing us to completely overflow any opposition protecting the garden.”
“Yes Osmund, I will inform her now.” And with that the young warrior ran back through the castle’s long iron gates.
The group followed suit, pushing the gates open fully and revealing the site of further bodies. They were inside the building’s inner wall now, the sun still bearing down upon them. This was the location home to many of the more important stables and areas for battle preparation. The ruins of a barricade lay around the door, alongside the copious number of trainee bodies who failed to protect themselves. While there was no evidence of the wall’s debris assaulting this place, there was still a large amount of destruction here.
The remains of statues greeted the group, once magnum opus now a disfigured remnant of what was. They were made of marble, and once depicted the Vaunghe gods, although who each one was could not be discerned, due to the broken faces and pieces they had been split into. The statues lined the walls of this castle, with a new statue lining the wall every five metres. If they weren’t destroyed they would likely be the most impressive feat Osmund had ever seen, standing at almost double his nine and a half foot frame.
Moving forward, Osmund looked to the north, where the entrance of the tunnel system began. According to the map the entrance was hidden below the royal stable, and gave passageway into the complex’s vast tunnel system that could lead to several strategic positions. Motioning for his group to follow, they moved slowly around the curved walls of the inner wall. The bodies gradually stopped appearing, prompting the drawing of Osmund and the other’s weapons, save for Balmun who still lacked anything to protect himself with.
The royal stable was just as grand as Osmund expected, long silver poles supporting a twenty metre stable. Beside each pillar was another statue of a god, albeit these gods were untouched and in their full glory. First was the god of thought, Merculd, a figure of 19 ft who sat upon a throne of gold. Adorned with jewels and royal fabrics, the bearded man watched down upon those that approached, beckoning them inside. The man himself was crafted out of intricate copper and glass, an architectural marvel that Osmund couldn’t comprehend its creation.
Beside the father of thought was the mother of art Freya, whose statue was in opposition to the metals of Merculd. Freya was a wood carving, an intricate and detailed depiction of the woman who was 15 ft tall, standing up with beckoning hands towards any visitors. Her face was carved to the smallest detail, with each individual tooth lovingly crafted on her mouth. In contrast to the first statue Freya’s was carved alongside her body, a tight fitting tunic layered over hard to know pants, due to the lack of colour or texture upon them.
The last of the three statues was Zid, the proposed god of the wall, a 19 ft tall mass of flesh and muscle. There was nothing to this god but his muscles, they were the only trait he has, a blank, general male face looming over the entryway. It was made out of stone, likely being the oldest statue here and thus the simplest. That is not to say the statue wasn’t a work of its own, every detail to Zid’s veins had been lovingly placed, it’s just compared to the other two Zid felt… irrelevant to Osmund, past its time.
The stable was enclosed in intricately carved stone, helixes intersecting each other granting slimmers of light into the stable. There was no damage here, no bodies, no other people, this was Vaunghe architecture at its finest, and all of this hard work was spent on a singular, slightly inconveniently placed barn. The oddities of the Vaunghe never failed to surprise Osmund, and he braced to enter the barn.
Straw floors and hay bales greeted him, alongside a single lone steed. A fine horse, certainly of nobility, awaited patiently for its master to return. It had been alone for time unknown, and yet Osmund noticed it was still being fed quite well, a decent number of carrots awaiting on a plate. Osmund opened the gate to the horse and approached the fine steed. He slapped it on the behind, sending it out of the stable and into the inner wall.
“Sir, I’ve stepped into horse dung. May I have another pair of shoes?” Balmun’s voice rang through the room, echoing slightly. Osmund responded by throwing a carrot at his head. Balmun dodged with less than a second to spare, and the armed man behind him was hit dead on.
Reeling back from shock and surprise, the armed soldier moved his sword to his front, trying to shield any further blows. The man was tall, 8’5 ft to be exact, and dirty. His armour was coated in dirt and remnants of the smoke from the wall. Osmund could see the desperation in his eyes, and now charged the man.
Osmund met the man’s blade with his own, parrying immediately. A foot swept the enemy to the ground and Osmund stood above him sword raised. The man went for the blade only to find his hand was removed, spouting blood everywhere. Osmund grabbed the man and pushed him to his feet.
“There is a base for any injured troops at the entrance to Dundis, go now before you bleed to death.” The man’s face flashed in surprise, and he quickly scrambled out of the room, hand stump spouting blood.
“Hey sir?”
“What is it Balmun?”

Firstly i believe that looks are the most important thing and i believe the blackpill is true, but i believe "if you arent HTN or more its over" theory is bullshit. I also believe "charisma is cope" theory is bullshit and i will prove that in my story.
I want to tell you the story of a friend of mine, i will describe him pretty accurate so u get what i am trying to say.
Lets call him Brian, Brian is a 5'5 5/10 (he has a average face so that this is clear, he isnt ugly but also not attractive) Latino friend off mine. He has a average Job/salary (he works as a bar keeper), he doesnt do sports (he isnt fat but his body isnt "developed"), he also doesnt have any kind of status (he has 400 insta followers), i have to add he gives a "badboyish vibe" (not character wise just looks wise) he is thugmaxxed lookswise (handtattoos, wearing chains etc) he looks like a thug to some extent, but he doesnt behave like one so dont consider thugg theory.
​
Many People would assume that this guy is a incel, and he doesnt pull, and that would also be what the Blackpill would project. But u couldnt be more wrong. Out of all Guys which i know, this is legit the biggest slayer that i have seen, that dude had around 4 ex Girlfriends and all of them were 6+, he is also good in hooking up, we were many times at the club and dude showed me that he is legit in pulling women, and this arent subhuman women that he pulls, all are solid or better.
But here comes the key point he is VERY charismatic, and this is not a lie. You can talk to that dude for 15 minutes and think "this is such a cool guy" i would also say that he has good feeling for game, he knows what to say and to use psychological moves on women. He is all in all very friendly, and just gives you a good vibe its hard to explain. He is just your "soft" friendly latino guy.
​
My Point is the blackpill will say that this is not possible, but this is a legit story and why would i lie? I just want to understand why are there some "outliers" who just get over theyre looks and still perform?
​
In fact i am a 6'5, dude who goes to the gym with a 6/10 Face and he pulls more then me, and no i am not some dork who is creepy, i go out often and have many friends and a solid social circle, so "ure a autist" theory is wrong. I would rate my social skills as 5/10, nothing special, but not some cringe dork, just normal.
​
My question is are we underrating the skill off having 10/10 Social skills? (i would rate his social skills easily a 8-9+/10 i dont know anybody with better social skills, he also worked long in sales so theres that.)
I am in switzerland, maybe its a location thing.
​
What do you think?

The story in question is a RWBY fic with Undertale elements, mainly in the form of an OC that constantly breaks the 4th wall, can rewind time (save scum) and is meant as a Vessel for the reader, it's also sorta meant to be a deconstruction of your typical over powered self insert fic, I plan on doing both a Pacifist and Omnicide (genocide) story with this concept, I'm currently working on the Pacifist storyline, which features the OC (Beam) basically saving everyone who dies in the show, as well as defeating the bad guys and even swaying some of them to switch sides, in other words solving all the problems FOR the heroes, what I WANT to happen is to create a wholesome, comedic slice of life sort of story with the characters being out of danger and able to live peacefully, what HAS happened is I've been able to come up with essentially nothing entertaining, heartwarming or otherwise to fill the time between the intro and the climax, this isn't just writers block, I have like 10 unfinished drafts of the beginning of the story and nothing I tried fixes the problem, how could it? I don't even know what the problem is, there's something I'm doing wrong, but I know this type of stort can work because Undertale did it, I keep thinking to myself "how did undertale do it?" And I've come up empty handed.
All of this to ask, how would you guys write this story or identify the problem or...anything at all? I am stumped and need help

No_Limit_1122
I worked as a fed LEO for a few years. I got hired on with another fed agency. While at their academy I failed one of their practicals too many times. I was offered the chance to recycle and start from the beginning. I decided not to because I had enough of going through the academy and I decided I didn't want to work at the agency after what I saw so I resigned. I was issued my LEOSA creds( had over 10 yrs) so it wasn't a resigning in lieu of termination. I have been through several LE academies in the past so I am fed up with them and all the bs goes along with them.
Should I just move on from LE? Because I'm sure if I apply to an agency that accepts my training, they will probably just make a big deal out of me resigning from the academy, although I have been through others.
Anyone ever been in a situation like mine or know someone who has?

Moin zusammen,
wir suchen Spieler für unser frisch gegründetes PNS_Esports Team. Kurz zu mir, Main Supp, Gold 1, die letzten 10 Jahre immer Platin. Alle anderen Lanes gibt es Interessenten, aber noch steht nichts fest. Wer also Bock und Lust hat und es einigermaßen drauf hat, kann gerne auf den Kommentar reagieren. Wir wollen erstmal ein mal die Woche minimum trainieren (Montags) und am Wochenende bei Turnieren mitmachen. Um Planung und organisation wird sich gekümmert, wir brauchen nur starke Spieler. Falls wir also euer Interesse geweckt haben oder ihr Fragen habt, könnt ihr euch gerne melden.

So I have no clue anymore what to do so I've came to reddit... I don't really know how many people will actually see this since I just made this account. I know this post length may drive people away but I want some people's advise and there's a lot to go over. I know this girl that I ended up falling in love with on December 13th 2021 and I texted her at 10:42 that night asking how her day was going just on a whim that she'd respond because well... I thought she was really cute and... well... she did... We called from that time all the way till 2 in the morning (and I had to be at work by 6:30 that morning). We had a lot in common and we seemed to hit it off right from the start.. Both having basically the same car (She liked the R32 Skyline as her dream car, Mine was the R33 Skyline. Same favorite color, hobbies, etc). Well I fell deep really hard. It took till me the next day checking my phone at work like a maniac who wasn't had something for days to realize that I was in really deep. Well... We ended up going on our first date on the December 18th. We had blankets in the back of my car and watched the sunset and it was honestly the best date I've ever had. We watched movies, cracked jokes and just had a blast. She actually let me have a body pillow she had bought for the date and sprayed her perfume on it. After the date was over I drove her back to her apartment and headed home (I live 30-35 mins away). After work I would go home and get dressed and cleaned up and then start going over to her apartment regularly. Which she has 2 kids also (One was 3 and one was a few months old, which doesn't bother me even though I'm still pretty young 20 at the time, wanting kids eventually and she was 22 when I met her). To summarize how the regular interactions when I was at her was... I'd bring her some snacks/gifts for her or the kids, run around the apartment chasing the oldest (Which will be represented by the letter C) around the apartment playing with him, while she would take care of the youngest (Which will be represented by the letter B) doing whatever se needed to do. After she ended up putting them to bed, we'd cuddle on the couch and watch movies and after a while "ended up doing the deed". I was honestly really happy. Not even just by the sex. I felt so loved and just felt genuinely happy and never been this happy before. After 2 weeks of this goes by and she texts me one day that she needs to tell me something in person. Well, the next time I was over, after a while I was there and a bit of asking, She tells me that she's been with the father of the 2 kids for 5 years (Who would be represented with the letter J), and has known about me the whole time and x y and z and he was okay with her seeing me. It honestly threw me for a loop but everything I was skeptical of, made sense (She had a really nice apartment, nice car but not the greatest job and said she was sharing the car with someone). I don't know why I said the next thing I did. Maybe because I was happy with her or what but I told her I was okay with it even though I was 50/50. Part of me was angry she kept it from me and also upset, but she made me happy. I ended up staying the usual time I'd stay over (and did the deed again) but on the ride home, I cried the whole time. I had so many mixed emotions about it. I've already spent a lot of money (which is replaceable I know) on her and the kids (which was mainly snacks) but I'm a very emotional person. I ended up continuing to see her (all the way to May of 2022) and it was honestly really really rough. I did kind of see her the usual amount I normally saw her (Because J worked nights and I worked days) for the first bit until J started to get jealous of how much attention I was getting from her. J would go though mine and hers conversations randomly and get mad for what was said (Me saying I love her and her saying it back and normal relationship type stuff) and she ended up removing me off snapchat but we talked on Instagram after that. After he saw that we were talking on Instagram, we moved to discord (When she removed me off snap, she wrote down my number and snap). And She actually told me that it was upsetting her that she wasn't getting to talking to me as much saying stuff like "This is BS" " I barely got to talk to you today" and "I didn't think I would feel like this but I do". There was times she'd hop in discord and watch me play Val with my friends and actually talk to them, watch my races on iRacing and support me and my hobbies. I've never had that before. It was great having her around. I was there for her when she needed it. Whether she wanted to rant about J (Who imo, doesn't treat her the greatest), rant about work, or anything she needed. We ended up sneaking around for a few months after J told her that he doesn't want her seeing me anymore. I'd drive to her work and hang out with her on her breaks (since I had buddies in the area I could make plans with after) and sometimes when he was at work (which was 30 mins away at the time), I'd come over like I used to. When he found out, he wasn't happy. He quit his job on the spot and drive back (He found out that we were still talking due to a call log). Which it only stopped us for a few weeks. J ended up getting another job (even though it was day shift and only 10 mins away) I still found ways to go see her (mainly though texting on Instagram on a different account I had or a different messenger she had). I only went to her apartment for like... 30 mins. Just to help her do some small things around the apartment (since from her words, he never wanted to help) and help keep the kids entertained so she could do some work. That went on for a little bit until she just ghosted me completely. Not a goodbye or anything. I was devastated. I cried all the time and dropped all the friends I had and just started staying alone. I end down a really dark path and honestly almost took my life. She was meant so much to me and she left without a word. I messaged her Instagram everyday for 3 months while she was gone (for 8 months). One day I just stopped texting her and it was nothing. She still viewed my story on Instagram but never messaged. Even J got on her Instagram and messaged me and said "IDK why she doesn't message you anymore. I've told her that its okay. I'll let her know that you messaged again" and then I just messaged on holidays. Then her birthday came up and I messaged her as soon as the clock struck midnight to her birthday telling her happy birthday and she responded right away and we talked all the way until 2 am (and now I have to be up for work at 5 am). We've been talking every day since then (Her birthday was the 2nd of this month) and we've been talking like how we used to. But I don't know how to handle this. I'm still at a loss and don't know how to process it.

Have you thought ‘tomorrow is the day, the day I finally get up early and attack the day, new day, new me’ and then the alarm goes off, you hit snooze and wake up the same time you always have? Of course you have, we all have.
Good intentions really don’t account for much, it’s our actions that determine our success or failure in becoming an early riser.
It wasn’t until I embarked on my own journey I realised that without changing my evening habits I could never change my morning habits.
By tweaking just a few habits before jumping into bed we can drastically increase our chances of waking up early and get our first big accomplishment of the day out of the way - not hitting snooze!
Here are the 7 super simple tweaks I have made to my evening routine that have enabled me to stick to my wake up time.
Read to the end to find the one thing that makes all 7 of these habits IRRELEVANT!

Reverse engineer your wake up time

‘Right that’s it, tomorrow I’m waking up at 6.30am and I’m attacking the day with vigour’. You’ve had this thought before right? And when you wake up 3 hours later, you instantly blame the alarm clock. ‘It didn’t go off! I slept right through it!’.
What actually happened is you were so tired you turned the alarm off and before your conscious brain could even kick in you were asleep again within 9 seconds and you totally forgot that this happened just a few hours ago.
We have all been there.
You didn’t reverse engineer your wake up time. See me, I need 8 hours. I can function on less but my body really does need a solid 8 hours. However, I typically fall asleep around midnight, sometimes around 1am if I’m particularly restless.
Now if I want to get up around 7am then I’m waking up after just 6ish hours of sleep. The amount of times I’ve smashed the snooze button and turned the alarm off in just 6 hours of sleep is staggering. I have ZERO discipline when I have a poor night's sleep.
My failure was that I didn’t reverse engineer my wake up time. I want to wake up at 7am and I need 8 hours, then I MUST be asleep by 11pm. I can safely say that whenever I’m asleep at 11pm then waking up at 7am is easy.
I backed up my clock and set a time I must be asleep by. Now for me, I take around 20 mins to fall asleep. So I have to be in bed at 10.40pm. If I fall asleep quicker than 20 mins then that’s a bonus. If it takes me 30 mins it’s not the end of the world. I can survive on 7 hours 50.
Our body clocks are different. Some people only need 6 hours, others need 9. Start at the time you want to wake up and back up your clock the amount of hours of sleep you need.
Want to wake up at 6am but you need 9 hours sleep, then you must be asleep by 9pm. Woke backwards from here. You might need to make dinner earlier or record your favourite show between 9 and 10 and watch it the next day.
In some cases, this is going to be difficult because of life and work commitments. So choose a wake up time that fits your lifestyle.
The important point here is to set your wake up time, recognise the time you must be asleep by and aim for that. But experiment with different wake up times and sleep times to find what works for you. We are all different.

Blocking blue light after 7pm

I just wrote an article called ‘The science of blocking blue light before bedtime’.
You can read this for why this is important. But a quick hack to block blue light on your iPhone is:

1. Go to settings
2. Display & Brightness
3. Night Shift
4. Slide the colour temperature to ‘More Warm’

I have set mine to block blue light between 7pm and 9am. This is a super simple hack to limit the amount of blue light you get before you go to sleep, which numerous scientific studies have found greatly improves sleep length and sleep quality.

Prepare for the first task of the day only

I recently wrote about how my jump rope workout plan faded when I forgot to prepare my workout clothes before I went to sleep.
The simple act of getting my workout shorts, top and socks out and having them ready for me to jump into made the jump rope workout a much easier habit to adopt.
Think about what the first thing you want to do is. Workout? Get your workout clothes ready. Walk the dog? Get your outfit including coat and scarf ready and put the dog lead on top of it.
There is a famous speech by Admiral William H. McRaven who emphasised making the bed. It was a win. The first win of the day. A small insignificant win that made it easier to complete more tasks and set the day up for a series of wins.
So focus only on the first task of the day and prepare your outfit the night before and when you wake up all you need to do is complete that task. By outfit, I’m obviously talking about clothes. But if you want your first task to be journaling, then get the pen and pad, write tomorrow’s date at the top and leave the pad open on the table ready for you.
You will be greatly surprised, as I was, at how easy it is to start the morning on the right foot just by preparing for the first task of the day.

No late meals or snacks

You know that feeling of climbing into bed with a stomach full of food, I find this uncomfortable and it makes me restless. All I can think about is how full I am.
I try to eat 2-2.5 hours before going to bed. This is enough time for my body to digest the food and I can sleep well fed.
Think about what you are asking your body to do when you eat late night snacks or go to bed right after a big meal. You’re asking your body to kick into gear and start breaking down the food for nutrients. We want the body and brain to be at rest so that we can fall asleep more easily.
Intermittent fasting is a great way to stop eating late night snacks. Choose one of the many apps, my personal favourite is ‘Zero’ and start eating during your eating window only. This will help to know when to eat and when not to eat.
Maybe one day I’ll do a breakdown on how IF affects sleep quality and patterns.

Pick up a book

This is a personal favourite. I love to read. One because I just enjoy learning new things (I’m a big non-fiction fan) but also because IT MAKES ME SLEEPY.
I read a kindle which means I’m not absorbing any blue light late at night, my wife reads a proper paperback. But both of our eyelids slowly begin to close after about 15 minutes and all of a sudden we are asleep.
I genuinely think reading is life’s cheat code and a form of time travel. If you read a book written in Ancient Greece you are literally travelling back in time to the mind of the person that wrote it.
But one of the hidden benefits of adopting a reading habit is that it helps me to unwind at the end of the day, away from my phone and social media and before I know it I’m asleep.
Pick up a book, any book that you fancy and for the final 15 mins of the day, just read it. You’ll soon see what I mean.

Set a Do Not Disturb schedule

Notifications are how apps like Facebook and Twitter make you become addicted to them.
WIthout notifications you probably wouldn’t think to open 75% of the apps you have installed on your phone.
The notification creates a trigger that turns into action.
Set a Do Not Disturb schedule on your phone, perhaps the same time you have your blue light block set for. During this time you won’t receive any notification pop ups. This helps in two ways:

• It limits the use of the phone in the evening
• When you wake up there are no notifications pulling you in

For reasons we will explore another time, limiting the hours spent on our digital devices either side of going to sleep is hugely beneficial.
A great morning routine is one that doesn’t involve diving right into social media as soon as you wake up.
This is infinitely more difficult when there are tons of notifications from 10+ apps compelling us into action.
Setting the phone to Do Not Disturb is also great if you need to focus and be productive and much like the blue light blocking hack is super simple to start.
Bonus: The one thing that makes all 7 of these totally useless and irrelevant.
Going out after work for a few drinks? Going for a meal with a loved one and getting deep into a bottle of Merlot? Fancy a few cold cans on the sofa after a long stressful day?
I have found alcohol to be the biggest nullifier of the morning routine.
Yes you could still do these 7 things but the effects alcohol has on the length of sleep and how many good quality hours of sleep you get make it very hard to have discipline in the morning.
But that’s ok. You don’t need to stop drinking (unless you want to), but recognise that tomorrow you need a different approach. A later wake up time, a different morning task, whatever.
When I am out with work friends for a few drinks, I set my alarm to a more suitable wake up time simply because I know that the effect those few drinks have on me is going to make it difficult for me to rise as early as I would like.

Do the same 3 things before you go to sleep

Do the exact same things just before going to sleep.
For me, I clean my teeth, prepare my outfit for the next day, read a book, sleep.
I want to train my brain and body to recognise that I am about to fall asleep.
I choose those three actions as my cue to the brain to start getting prepared to fall asleep.
This mini-routine within my evening routine is as important as my entire routine. This consistency takes away any decision making I need to make and I can go through this mini-routine with ease.
Try it. And then experiment with doing something random one night and you will notice the difference in your ability to fall asleep. Then again, this might just be the effect it has on me! This is a journey of self-discovery and you should do the same!
So there you have it, 7 super simple evening habits you can adopt to set yourself up for early riser success.
How many of these do you do? Is there anything you recommend?
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I’ve spent the past 3 months obsessing over my sleep, my wake up time and my morning routine.
And I’ve been able to influence my mood, productivity and find my purpose… and I feel like I’m only at the beginning.
I send two emails per week of things I learn about waking up early, morning routines and creating an intentional life.
It’s totally free to read and subscribe 🙏 - https://www.nomoresnooze.co/

I worked as a fed LEO for a few years. I got hired on with another fed agency. While at their academy I failed one of their practicals too many times. I was offered the chance to recycle and start from the beginning. I decided not to because I had enough of going through the academy and I decided I didn't want to work at the agency after what I saw so I resigned. I was issued my LEOSA creds( had over 10 yrs) so it wasn't a resigning in lieu of termination. I have been through several LE academies in the past so I am fed up with them and all the bs goes along with them.
Should I just move on from LE? Because I'm sure if I apply to an agency that accepts my training, they will probably just make a big deal out of me resigning from the academy, although I have been through others.
Anyone ever been in a situation like mine or know someone who has?