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I am from the SE MO area and searching for the perfect camping spot for my gf for her bday weekend in November. Mostly familiar with St. Francois State Park and parts of Mark Twain NF.
We are always down for a drive too so I’ll open up this up to anywhere in the state of MO.
I would absolutely love to have a waterfront nearby. We aren’t super fit, so the closer we can park near a trailhead and hike to a camping spot the better. Please let me hear your favorite camping spots in the Show Me State!

“I’m sorry; we’re going to astral travel to a flea market?” Charlotte asked incredulously as she watched Genevieve and I set up a meditation circle under the shade of a towering old willow tree in my cemetery. “What if we want to buy something? How will we bring it back?”
“We’re not going there to shop, Lottie. Samantha’s finally had a vision about Emrys,” Genevieve explained.
The Veil between the Physical and Astral Planes is exceptionally weak in my cemetery, especially at night and on hallowed days. When I sleep there, my subconscious mind is highly receptive to all manner of revelations from the Spirit World. When I saw a Blood Moon rise on the night of May fifth, the same night as a penumbral eclipse, I knew that my dreams would be prophetic.
“I had a dream about him last Friday,” I expounded. “He’s at some sort of otherworldly marketplace, one that’s not connected to the Crypto Chthonic Cuniculi, so it’s mostly inaccessible to the Ophion Occult Order. In my dream, Emrys invited us to come and speak with him while we were lucid. He drew a sigil for me, the same one I’ve drawn in the middle of the mediation circle. He said that all I’d have to do is toss an Undying Rose – the earthly effigy of the rose Persephone used to steal a drop of his blood – into the sigil and it will become an astral portal to where he is.”
I held up the deep purple rose that I had cut from its bush earlier that day. I don’t know for certain where the roses came from, but my best guess is that they were made by the same Occultist who hallowed my cemetery to Persephone; Artaxerxes Crow. They have some connection to Emrys as well, since the only other time I saw someone else use one was when his avatar was summoned into the Physical Plane on Halloween 2020.
Knowing that Emrys wouldn’t dare to set foot in a place that was sacred to the Goddess who was ultimately responsible for his cosmic defeat, I gently tossed the rose into the middle of the sigil.
“He invited all of us?” Charlotte asked with an incredulous raising of her eyebrow.
“He said me and my coven. If he had just meant me or me and Genevieve he would have said that,” I replied. “You and Elam are coming too. I want as many eyes on this place as possible so that we don’t miss anything. We may not get an opportunity like this again.”
“And this is safe? Visiting some random flea market between worlds?” Charlotte asked.
“Samantha and I have visited the Underworld and come back no problem,” Genevieve reminded her. “So long as we’re bound to our bodies and Elam is bound to Samantha, we can come back anytime. Don’t worry; this is going to be a blast! Adventures like these are the best part of being a Witch.”
“The only reason you were able to go to the Underworld is because Samantha’s cemetery came with an astral portal in the back,” Charlotte countered, gesticulating in the general direction of the archway that was still partially visible behind the light spring foliage. “Other than that, when have any of us ever done anything useful with our astral projection? This is still a physical place, right? We don’t have any of our physical senses available to us when we astral project, and I get extremely disoriented trying to navigate the mortal plane with clairvoyance alone.”
“It is a physical place, but one saturated with astral energy and full of occultists and occult artifacts. It will be extremely illuminated to our clairvoyance,” I assured her. “Elam will also be there to guide us. As a ghost, he’s much more practiced at traversing the mortal plane in an astral form.”
Charlotte folded her arms over her chest and turned to look at Elam, who was leaning up against the willow tree as he waited for us.
“I don’t suppose you could go and scout the place out for us ahead of time?” she asked.
“I can’t go too far from Samantha, and definitely not across planes,” he said with a shake of his head. “But Eve’s right. Your astral bodies will be in no danger, and you can return here in an instant whenever you want.”
“But what about Emrys? Didn’t that book Leon gave you say that he’s some sort of soul-flayer?” Charlotte asked me.
“It did,” I admitted. “Keep in mind though, that book was written by his enemies. I want to hear his side of things before this conflict of theirs spirals out of control.”
“Any update from Chamberlin about that?” Elam asked.
“Yeah, he said that after he failed to purify the Sigil Sand, Ivy’s onboard with negotiating some kind of truce with Emrys,” I replied. “The Grand Adderman’s still reticent, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s running out of options. I need to find out if Emrys will agree to peace talks.”
“Um, I get that, but I’m still kind of hung up on him potentially flaying our souls,” Charlotte reiterated.
“If Emrys and the Ophion Occult Order go to all-out war, there’ll be a lot of collateral damage and innocent souls caught in the crossfire,” Genevieve told her, gently grabbing hold of her and looking her straight in the eye. “Samantha, Elam, and I are doing this because if there’s any chance we can put an end to this before it starts, then it’s our responsibility to try. You don’t have to come with us, Lottie, but you’re still a member of our coven. Samantha and I would both feel a lot better with you there to help us.”
“Arghhh! All right, fine! I’ll come with you,” Charlotte gave in, plopping her butt down on the edge of the meditation circle. “If we’re holding hands, that will help keep our astral bodies together too, right?”
“I believe it should, yes,” I smiled at her, sitting down and reaching out for her hand.
Genevieve lit the incense and her bong filled with the entheogenic Delphi Dream, before sitting down to join us. She took a hit from the bong before passing it to me, and then to Charlotte before setting it aside out of the circle.
“Start with taking a deep breath, completely filling the lungs, and holding it for five heartbeats,” she guided us as she took hold of each of our hands. “Exhale completely, and wait five more heartbeats before breathing in again. Eyes closed, in through the nose, out through the mouth. Focus on the astral energies flowing through you with each breath, gently aligning each chakra until those energies are enough to lift you up and out of your body.”
In unison with one another, the three of us slowly breathed in and out, ignoring the material world around us and focusing upon the task at hand. Eve was first, as usual, and because we were all holding hands, Charlotte and I felt her eagerly tugging us up to speed us along.
I opened my eyes, and beheld the dull and muted Physical Plane through my clairvoyance, everything outshined by the radiant forms of my coven mates. I noted that Genevieve had eschewed her normal skyclad form when astral projecting and instead wore a cloak like Charlotte and I.
“Are you worried this place might have a no shirt, no shoes, no souls, no service policy?” I teased her.
“I just don’t want to risk a confrontation over it. I realize how important this is,” she answered. “Though I’m not actually wearing shoes, now that you mention it.”
“Christ, look at the sigil Samantha drew!” Charlotte said, pointing down at the meditation circle beneath us. The sigil wasn’t just glowing but flowing as well, churning the Aether around it in a misty, spectral vortex. “It’s an astral portal, isn’t it?”
“Oh yeah. It’s not stable, though. Good for one trip only,” Genevieve said with a delighted smile. “And Lottie, since we’re Neopagan Witches, try not to swear by Christ, okay?”
“Jesus!” she swore, both in defiance and in genuine annoyance.
“Elam! Elam, come join the circle! I don’t want to take any chances of severing our bond,” I instructed, letting go of Charlotte’s hand and waving him in between us.
Faithful Familiar that he was, he obeyed without hesitation. Despite my concerns, I think that he probably could have stayed behind if he had wanted. The fact that he was willing to follow me to an unknown otherworld without complaint really made me appreciate how devoted he was to me.
“We step in together on the count of three, got it?” I instructed, each of them nodding clearly in response. “One. Two. Three!”
We all extended our right feet into the vortex together, and the instant we did we were swept away, falling out of our own world and tumbling between the cracks of countless others. They weren’t real, I don’t think. At least, not as real as our world. They were potential realities, or realities that could have been once but now can never be, or fantasies that are so persistent in the minds of real people that in some sense or another, they become real themselves. I only saw glimmers of them, glimmers in nebulas made of primeval chaos and uttermost void.
It was outside of time, that place we travelled through, or at least we had no sense of it there. Our souls were haphazardly spat out upon a surreal landscape of earth, sea, and fire. Hilly plains of volcanic ash, incandescent calderas of lava and bubbling hot springs all intermeshed in a chaotic mosaic that didn’t seem to abide by any laws of geology or geography that I was familiar with. A strong but slow wind pushed fractal formations of dark silver clouds through a pale silver sky, illuminated by a single white orb which could have been either a bright moon or a faint sun.
While our spectral feet left no trace upon the ash we now stood upon, our presence nonetheless elicited a response from some of the local fauna. We were just able to catch a glimpse of some kind of shimmering scarabs burrowing themselves into the ash to escape the four otherworldly ghosts that had invaded their territory.
“Holy shit,” Charlotte murmured as we all gazed out upon the strange world we had found ourselves on. “This really isn’t on the Astral Plane. This is a real planet. This a real, alien planet! This is unbelievable!”
Genevieve glided over to one of the bubbling pools and peered into it, looking for any more signs of life.
“There’s some kind of bluish-grey algae growing on the rocks down there, and I think I can make out some small arthropods too. This planet’s alive!” she announced with glee, smiling and looking up at the alien sky.
Conjuring an astral approximation of my staff, I plunged it into a small mound of ash beside me. I watched curiously as the scarabs shot out in all directions, moving too quickly for me to get a good look at them, before scurrying back into the surrounding ash.
“These bugs can sense our presence,” I remarked. “How and why would clairvoyance evolve in insects on this world, and why would their first instinct be to flee?”
“Samantha!” Elam called out. “I think I found the Flea Market.”
We all gathered around him and looked where he was pointing. On a distant dune, we beheld the moulted carapace of a colossal insect, gleaming a brilliant, lustrous gold in the broken white light.
“That’s impossible!” Charlotte claimed. “That thing must be hundreds of meters long! No insect, no animal period could ever get that big on the Physical Plane!”
“It could be the Incarnation of some kind of Titan,” Genevieve suggested. “But… it’s dead. I can tell that even from here. It’s dead. It’s the corpse of a dead god, and now it’s being used as a swap meet with a punny name. Either whatever killed it just abandoned it, or…”
“Or is running the place,” I finished for her. “Well, we should see if we can find Emrys.”
In an instant, the world moved around us until we were at the entrance to the Flea Market. The colossal carapace was hollow inside, of course, and had been filled with a bustling city that looked like it had been created in the most ad hoc manner possible. There wasn’t a single straight street to be seen, and they converged with one another at random intervals. Stalls and buildings varied wildly in both design and materials, all imported from a plethora of different cultures across the planes.
Enormous shards of luminous glass levitated above the throng like a thousand Swords of Damocles, any or all of them seeming capable of succumbing to gravity at any moment. In the very center of the moulted husk dangled a great spiralling chrysalis or hive woven of iridescent silk, its function not being immediately apparent to me.
There must have been thousands of people there, and hundreds of merchants hawking their wares. Most of those who looked human still seemed a little off, like they were members of ethnicities that didn’t exist in our world. Some of the beings were near-human in appearance, many seemingly some kind of Fey or Seelie folk. There was even a small handful of people that weren’t remotely human at all.
The only thing they all had in common was that none were native to this world.
“Most of these people are here in person, aren’t they?” Charlotte asked.
“It would’ve been quite a feat for them to have built all of this while astral projecting,” Genevieve agreed.
“But if this place isn’t connected to the Cuniculi, then how did they get here?” Charlotte asked. “We’re on another planet, maybe even in another dimension. If getting here is beyond the Ooo’s abilities, then what sort of ungodly reality benders decided to turn it into a Flea Market?”
“Ladies, gentlemen, and any beings either too ancient and alien or too modern and alienated to settle on one or the other, come bear witness to one of the most astounding and atrocious abominations on this or any other world!” a fast-paced male voice rang out over the din of the crowd.
We turned to see a short, skinny, old-timey sort of carnival barker standing on a literal soap box, placed next to a large object draped in a black tarp.
“For the paltry price of a single three-headed coin, you can peer beneath the veil and behold with your own unbelieving eyes the mangled and mutilated monstrosity that lurks beneath!” the carnival barker continued. “But I must warn you, it is not possible to truly understand what dwells underneath without seeing it first! I cannot guarantee that you will still retain your sanity or will to live after witnessing the proverbial Mountains of Madness, for this low creature is truly like no other and serves only as a grim testament to the cruel sadism of the Lord Above! Anyone plagued by even the faintest lingering doubt as to their spiritual fortitude should not dare to even contemplate what might lie before me! But, for those brave, noble few who are truly dauntless of heart and incorrigible of spirit, I am proud to share with you this rare, unfathomable, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to witness sublime –”
The carnival barker was interrupted by a man yanking the sheet off the object beside him, revealing it to be a mirror.
“Whelp, that was a hell of an Im14andthisisdeep post, eh?” Charlotte mused.
Genevieve and I, however, were far too stunned to be amused; not by the mirror, but by the man who had unveiled it.
“It’s him, Lottie. That’s Emrys,” Genevieve whispered.
We had only seen him briefly once before, more than two-and-a-half years ago, but he was far from what anyone would call forgettable. He was tall and gaunt, with literal blue blood flowing beneath translucent skin. His long, receding hair and regal beard were pitch black, and dark miasma wafted from his eyes, nose, and mouth. He was dressed in dark sable robes with three overlapping Ouroboros’s tattooed on his forehead, with a pair of ophidian pupils lying in the spaces between them.
What stood out the most to us were the six silver Ouroboros chains bound around his wrists, ankles, waist, and neck. These were the chains the Ophion Occult Order had made to limit the power of his physical avatar, and it seemed he had not yet found a way to free himself from them.
“Are you still here?” Emrys asked in exasperation, tossing the veil back at the carnival barker in disdain.
“…Possibly,” the strange man replied evasively. “But not definitively, for purely legalistic reasons.”
“I believe Mathom-meister was quite clear when he said that your rather pitiful chicanery wasn’t welcomed here,” Emrys reminded him.
“And who is he to judge chicanery from cutthroat, capitalistic competition? Should not the Flea Market be a free market?” the charlatan demanded. “And while we’re on the topic of commerce, I don’t suppose you have enough three-headed coins to pay for all the poor souls you have so discourteously exposed to my exhibit against their will? I’d hate to have to start shaking people down to get my due.”
“Hard to believe your own circus threw you out,” Emrys said with a sardonic eye roll as he tossed him a small medallion. “You get one coin. Take it and get out of my sight.”
The charlatan flipped the coin in the air thrice, presumably to confirm it actually had three heads. Satisfied with its impossible dimensions, he shoved it into his pocket.
“It will cover the trolley ride home, at least,” he acquiesced, stepping off his soap box and turning to face his looking glass. “A shame though you can’t see the genius in my little avant-garde performance piece here, Emmy. Even I know that the monster in the mirror is often the hardest to recognize.”
As the man reached to pick up his mirror, his reflection’s arms shot through the glass and grabbed him by the wrists, pulling him in. Emrys immediately tried to chase after him, but bounced off the glass as if there was nothing supernatural about it at all.
“Bastard!” he cursed under his breath, before turning towards us and giving us a small apologetic smile. “I’m sorry you had to see that rather pathetic display. Unfortunately, the few meeting places I know of that are relatively safe from any Ophionic incursion also attract their fair share of other annoying miscreants.”
“If it didn’t attract a little bit of everything, it wouldn’t be a Flea Market, would it?” I asked rhetorically. “Thank you, Emrys, for inviting us. I’ve never been anywhere like this before.”
“And thank you for accepting. Samantha, Genevieve, it’s a pleasure to see you again, and a relief that you have not fallen under the auspices of the Ophion Occult Order,” he said with a gentle bow. “Elam, I remember you as well. Valiant but not reckless, you remained atop Pendragon Hill during my battle with the Darlings until your mistress was well out of harm’s way, and then you got the hell out of dodge yourself. Samantha couldn’t hope for a better Familiar. And Charlotte, any Witch that Samantha deemed worthy to induct into her coven is obviously someone whose acquaintance I am pleased to make. Welcome, all of you, to Mathom-meister’s Flea Market!”
“So this is where you’ve been hiding out the past two years?” Genevieve asked.
“Oh no. Far too Cosmopolitan for my tastes,” Emrys replied. “No, this is just a friendly place to meet those I consider friends – or potential friends, at least. I’d offer to show you around, but I know it’s difficult for you to astral travel for prolonged periods. Come with me to Mathom-meister’s house where we can talk freely, and we’ll discuss the situation with the Order.”
I gave him a small, single nod in response, and gestured with my staff that he should lead the way. He responded by pointing upwards, then vanished into his shadow form. When we looked up, we saw him waving at us from a balcony atop the great silken chrysalis.
We exchanged hesitant glances with one another, but ultimately followed him into the strange structure, moving from the ground to the balcony in an instant by will alone.
“How would an incarnate being get up here if they couldn’t fly or teleport?” Charlotte asked as she peered over the balcony’s teetering edge.
As though answering a summons, a humanoid creature apparated beside her in a flash of dark vapours. The hunched-back entity stood over six-and-a-half feet tall, and was clad in golden-brown erudite robes. Its squid-like skin was of a similar colour, and its entire face was a single gaping orifice that held a wispy, glowing orb in the center of its skull which I immediately recognized as its soul. A pair of long, fanged tentacles lined with pores and tendrils hung down from its head like a long, forked beard, and the seven digits shared by its two hands all bore wicked-looking talons, as did its two-toed, digitigrade feet.
“Not fly or teleport? What sort of pedestrian house guests do you think I entertain here?” the being asked wryly, its voice seeming to come from nowhere in particular.
Charlotte instinctively backed away from the creature and into the protective fold of our coven, but Emrys was quick to hold up his hand to plead for calm.
“Please, there’s no need for alarm. This is our host, Mathom-meister. He’s the only reason any of this is here in the first place,” Emrys informed us. “A year or two ago a companion of his unfortunately became one of the Darling Twin’s victims, and when he heard of my vendetta with them, he tracked me down; which is no small feat, I assure you.”
“It is for us. My people are a race of Planeswalkers. Traversing the many worlds of Creation is second nature to us,” Mathom-meister explained.
“I’ve… I’ve heard of your people, I think,” I said, softly and unsurely. “A friend of mine had an encounter with an artifact that gave her a vision of a race of strange and powerful sorcerers slaying their own god. I take it you’re the ones who slayed this Scarab Titan as well? That’s, that’s…”
“Horrifying, yes. That’s the idea,” he nodded. “You have nothing to worry about, young Witch. My people have no special interest in your world. This is purely personal. My friend is dead, and I want his murderers brought to justice; a goal which Emrys and I happen to have in common.”
“Feel free to share this information with the Ophion Occult Order, Samantha,” Emrys said. “I’d very much like for the Darling Twins to know what’s hunting them. Mathom-meister, please excuse me while I take my guests inside. We do have pressing business to discuss and their time is limited.”
The squid-cyclopes bowed gracefully, and my coven and I quickly scurried after Emrys as he led us inside through a towering hallway and into a large chamber that had been appointed as a living space.
I had thought that Emrys would want to speak with us alone, which was why I was surprised to see a young woman sitting cross-legged on a spongey yet chitinous object that I will for the sake of my sanity call a bean bag chair. Like Emrys, she was pale and blue-blooded, her choppy hair as black as coal. She wore a black robe and heavy black eyeliner, but these could not conceal the fact that she too had thin wisps of miasma emanating from her eyes.
“Is that your… daughter?” Charlotte asked, as baffled by her presence as any of us. The woman smiled warmly at the question.
“In a way. I was dead, and Emrys gave me new life. Now a part of the Outer Primordial Darkness he represents lives in me too,” she said serenely.
Hovering above her left palm were three small bluish-green orbs, lazily going around in a circle. They were translucent and held something inside them that I couldn’t make out, but the orbs themselves appeared to be melting and solidifying by the woman’s will.
“You’re Petra, aren’t you?” I asked as I cautiously approached her. “Chamberlin had mentioned that Emrys had taken an acolyte. I’m Samantha, and this is Genevieve, Elam, and Charlotte.”
“I know. The whole reason we’re here is to speak with you,” she nodded.
“The Ophion Occult Order calls me a soul-flayer, and I’m sure you were all wondering exactly what that meant before you came here,” Emrys said, standing proudly behind his acolyte. “Well, this is it. The Darkness Beyond is now a part of her, and a part of her now lives within the Darkness Beyond. She is not unchanged from what she was before, but neither has what she was been lost.”
“My interpretation of the term ‘soul-flaying’ was the complete removal of a person’s consciousness from their astral and physical bodies to be subsumed by your Darkness,” I countered. “They told me that what you’ve done with Petra here is just the limit of your power while you’re bound in their chains. Are you telling me that if your chains were broken, you wouldn’t be able to do any worse than this?”
“On my physical avatar? No. So long as my astral form remains chained and bound with the World Serpent, I cannot cleave a conscious mind from its astral substrate,” Emrys assured me.
“But that is your ultimate goal, isn’t it? Breaking the chains the Ophion Occult Order put on you is just a stepping stone to breaking the ones the gods bound you with?” Genevieve asked. “You’ve allied yourself with a literal god slayer. Do you expect us to believe that his people’s abilities aren’t something you intend to put to your own ends?”
“I don’t have an ultimate goal so much as I have a fundamental principle of opposing tyranny,” he claimed. “When I was a mere man, thousands of years ago, I was a tyrant. I believed that might made right so unquestionably that when my might began to fail me, the only thing I could think to do was to try everything in my power to restore it. This quest eventually led to me becoming one with the Darkness Beyond, which gave me not only the might I coveted but the wisdom I didn’t know I needed. It gave me perspective. It made me stronger than any human alive at that point but still let me realize how insignificant I was. It was humbling, and enlightening, and filled me both with remorse over my past actions and an impetus to use my newfound gifts to rectify them. I tried to overthrow the gods themselves which, in hindsight, was overly ambitious. I not only failed but had my soul devoured by the World Serpent, where it still resides to this day.
“I am not eager to bring the wrath of the gods down upon me once again. No, for now, I will be content to end the tyranny of the Ophion Occult Order. This is the message I’d like you to relay to them. If the Grand Adderman agrees to unbind my chains and step down from his post, I will spare his life. If he declines, I want the rest of the Order to know that I will show mercy to any who sides with me over him. I am willing to allow the Order to exist so long as it agrees to become more decentralized, democratic, and accountable. They will have to forfeit certain artifacts and individuals in their possession over to me, chief among them the Darling Twins, but I am willing to negotiate. If they aren’t, then I will overthrow the Grand Adderman by whatever means necessary and see the Order scattered to the four winds. It is entirely up to them whether or not the conflict between us escalates to full-on war. Have I made myself clear, Samantha?”
“I think so,” I said as I pensively considered everything he had said. “Why should they trust you to keep your word once your chains are broken? For that matter, why should we?”
He took a moment to consider his response, eyeing me over as though he was trying to divine something that would win over my trust.
“Samantha, you made a pact with Persephone to get your Spirit Familiar there; one where she swore by the River Styx. Is that correct?” he asked.
“It is,” I nodded.
“And in the years since, has Persephone ever broken that pact she swore to?” he asked.
“No, she hasn’t,” I replied.
“I may not be an Old God, but so long as my astral form remains bound by their chains, they have power over me,” he said. “Samantha Sumner, Hedge Witch of Harrowick Woods, I swear on the River Styx that I have spoken no lies to you today. I swear by the River Styx that I will abide by any Covenant that I and the Ophion Occult Order agree to in good faith and fair dealing that they do not break first. I swear by the River Styx that when my chains are broken, I will give you no cause to fear me or regret your trust in me.”
I gave a questioning glance to Genevieve, and then Elam, both of whom nodded in the affirmative.
“All right. An oath sworn on the River Styx is good enough for me. I’ll deliver your terms to Seneca Chamberlin,” I agreed. “I’m very grateful for the trust and respect you’ve shown for me and my coven, Emrys, though I can’t say I quite understand it. Out of all the guests that were there on the Hallow’s Eve you were summoned, why did Evie and I stand out to you?”
“The Ophion Occult Order deemed you worthy of inclusion in their cult, an offer you rejected on principle. You cheated Persephone, but you did it not to gain immortality for yourself but to save your friend from hell. You came here, thinking I could very well tear your souls asunder, but did so because you believed it was your duty to prevent needless suffering,” Emrys answered. “You are extraordinary in your craft, courage, and conscience, the latter of which especially stood out among the degenerates at that party. I do apologize if I frightened you at that event. I was a bit… irritable, given the circumstances. I’m glad we were able to meet again under more pleasant conditions.”
“So am I, Emrys,” I nodded. “I’m not sure exactly what this means or how relevant it is, but Seneca wanted me to tell you that he’s able to offer you the Dream Demon Red Ruck as a sacrifice.”
“Pffft. Tell him it’s hardly a sacrifice if I’m getting rid of a boogie man for him,” he scoffed. “In fact, now that you mention it, Ruck’s one egregore that might be of more use to me alive.”
I wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but we were suddenly interrupted by the rapid pounding of a gong somewhere down below. It seemed to be an alarm of some kind, as we could hear the panicked shouting and frantic racing of people either battening down or forsaking the Flea Market altogether.
Mathom-meister apparated into the middle of the room, his facial tentacles reflexively raised in a defensive position.
“Were you outside the market?” he demanded of us.
“The portal we came through deposited us a few miles outside of the market, yes,” I admitted.
“Damn,” Emrys cursed softly, though he sounded more frustrated than angry. “Meister, it’s not their fault. I knew they weren’t experienced Planeswalkers, I could have – ”
“It doesn’t matter!” Mathom-meister interjected. “They need to leave, now!”
“Why, what’s going on?” Genevieve demanded.
“The scarabs are swarming,” Petra explained. “Don’t feel bad; it happens often enough that they’re prepared for it.”
I wanted to press for more details, but I could hear the humming of a vast winged swarm steadily encroaching upon us.
“Don’t worry. Once you leave the swarm will disperse… eventually,” Emrys told us. “We’ve said all that need be said for now. Return home, and I’ll reach out to you again shortly, Samantha.”
Again, I wanted to object, but the swarm outside was growing louder and louder, and it occurred to me that we might not be completely safe from a biblical swarm of insects that could not only sense but evidently sought out souls.
This occurred to Charlotte as well, as she was the first of us to vanish and awaken back in her body. We could all feel the weight of her reembodied soul tugging on us to return with her. Genevieve immediately grabbed hold of my right hand and Elam my left, both of them refusing to leave before I did.
I spared one final glance at Emrys, lamenting that we couldn’t have had more time.
“I’ll relay everything you said to the Order. I’ll make sure they know you’re willing to negotiate a truce,” I vowed.
He gave me a gracious nod, and just as we heard the swarm start to pelt the exterior of the market, I forced my physical eyes open and was back in my body, still safely under a willow tree in my cemetery.
I immediately looked beside me to Genevieve, and saw that she was awake as well, and then around me for Elam, who seemed to be suffering a bit of spectral whiplash from being pulled back with me so suddenly, but was otherwise all right. Sighing with relief, I turned lastly to Charlotte, and saw that she was looking down at the mediation circle in dreaded horror.
Following her gaze, I saw that the Undying Rose was gone – spent, perhaps, in exchange for our passage – and in its place was the inert, and hopefully dead, body of one of the shimmering scarabs.

I'm only active on Reddit. I only go to other social media through browser. If may page akong need isearch related to job-seeking or may restaurant, establishment to read reviews.
My friends asked me san daw ako active na social media. And I said Reddit, sagot nila "Ano yun?" Lol. Tinanong nila kung may Tiktok ako, sabi ko wala. Tapos nagbanggit banggit sila ng mga content creators I've never heard of. Nagjoke sila saang kabundukan ba daw ako galing haha.
Then they showed me several random videos of people from tiktok. Kaso di talaga ako makarelate, alam kong kanya kanyang humor naman tayo. I couldn't fake laugh so pangiti ngiti na lang ako kunwari para sakay sa trip. Pero a part of me, parang gusto ko na lang din magtiktok. Yung mukhang tanga o nagpapacute lang pero kumikita naman ng pera at pinapadalhan ng mga sponsored products haha.
When people learn na I'm not active on socmed, they say "ayos yan", maybe they think na I'm disciplined, I'm not addicted to social media. But honestly my mental state is just too weak for socmed. I'm kinda mentally unstable so my times na konting scroll lang, natitrigger na yung existential crisis ko. I'll feel down and it'll last for several hours to day/s.
Been a long while since I got to hang out din with my friends so wala sila masyadong alam sa buhay ko. A friend also asked if nagmomodel daw ba ako. Never did I aspire. Made me realize looks can't get you anywhere when you have shitty mental health.
Would generating money from social media be worth all the anxiety, insecurity and overthinking? I guess maghanap na lang ako ng ibang pagkakakitaan.

Hi Everyone,
​
Looking to get some people's opinions on my monthly budget. Looking to see if there's anything that stands out.
A few things about me:

• Live in a MCOL city where rent has been increasing. I have a nice one bed apartment as a single person near the city center so I am fine paying a premium for that.
• Starting my MBA in the fall and starting to put money aside to pay tuition fully out of pocket without any loans.
• Took over parent plus loans that I will be paying off.
• Contribute to a Roth 401k through my company to maximize post tax retirement dollars (~17k per year).
• Plan to purchase a house for myself within the next two years or purchase a small rental (have family with confirmed track record of investment property history and understand the market well in this city).

Sankey Budget

Hi all - I saw some posts about fat friendly doctors in NY, but I couldn't find anything for NJ / Northern NJ here. I found some lists but most are not primary care doctors and one that I did find was not near me (I am in Bergen County). I have to get rid of my PCP bc she is just literally the worst. I originally started to see her because her bio said she had a focus in weight management (now I realize that is a huge red flag) and I am now learning I have distorted eating / eating disorder working with my RD. When I expressed this to her, she continuously dismissed everything I said, told me I shouldn't trust my RD and proceeded to hand me a 50+ page document of "healthy salads" i should eat to stay at 1200 calories ("But wait! These are recipes that serve 4... DONT EAT ALL 4 SERVINGS" she would tell me). The stigma is just disgusting, even after tearfully explaining my restrict / binge cycle.
​
I just want to see a doctor who doesn't go straight to weight for EVERYTHING (I have a preexisting prolactinoma but no other health issues) and doesn't make me feel like I'm a terrible person for being in a larger body.

Sanya is one of the most normal people in the franchise, and that being said means she is boring. I knew she was going to be boring when her opening scene for her first season was her talking about her mom bringing beef patties back from Jamaica.
This whole storyline about her family seems so made up as well. There is no way her family who lives with her and is on her payroll is this entitled. Like i refuse to believe that her normal ass family really believes that Sanya is being unreasonable for wanting her assistant (brother in law) to do his job and for her husband to want to spend time in his own house without her extended family there. Seems like low hanging fruit for some made up drama to me. Very boring and fake

I'm looking for a temple that I can have online shabbat with. The nearest temple near me is almost two hours away and is too long of a drive for me to do due to illness and I really want to be able to have shabbat with other people instead of just praying at home. I miss being a part of a community. I don't care of the state, or time zone it doesn't bother me as long as I can do it virtually. I tried with my hometown temple but they no longer offer virtual services. Thanks in advance.

I started an work from home corporate job in sales 3 weeks ago. Prior to this I worked in a fast paced veterinary clinics - I would always want to be the one dealing with the emergencies as that’s where I thrived.
So this has been quite the change for me. Some days I’m extremely motivated and get everything I need done early in the day, clean/organize my house, take my dog out, go to the gym. Then there’s mornings like today…. I can’t get out of bed, don’t know where to start. I tried making a list for myself last week to organize my day which worked well but I forget to make it the night before.
I’ve never had a job with so much flexibility and I’m really worried I’m going to fuck it up. I’m scared to miss deadlines, not live up to my potential. It was quite a competitive interview process (to what I’ve experienced previously) with 4 interviews and I have imposter syndrome, like I fooled them into hiring me.
I should also say I just got diagnosed 2 days ago… there’s a lot going through my head lol. Most likely starting Vyvanse in the next couple weeks - I guess we will see what happens. Now I’m anxious whether I should disclose to my work I got diagnosed???
Just my rant while I’m stuck in bed

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worldnews

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• 9lobaldude

White House: We are against strikes on Russian territory, but it’s up to Ukraine to decide
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Russian Volunteer Corps and Freedom of Russia Legion announce breaking into Russia again
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news

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Woman who accused Biden of sexually assaulting her in 1993 defects to Russia
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science

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Researchers have shown that an Australian wild tobacco plant could be used to grow medicines in large quantities bringing us a step closer to making 'growing medicines in plants' a reality.
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space

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What would you ban if you knew you had final say?
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TIL that the acronym “R.I.P.” has been engraved on tombstones since at least the fifth century. “Rest in Peace” is the English translation of a Latin phrase with the same acronym.
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dataisbeautiful

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How the job, nationality, and gender of celebrities have changed since the 1700s. [OC]
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Cooking

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food

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[i ate] donuts
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movies

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Took a picture of my eye using the macro lens on my iPhone
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I turn into a hot dog
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NO STOPPING
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Hello everyone, First post here.
I hope this message finds you all in good health and high spirits. I am reaching out to this wonderful community seeking guidance and advice regarding a situation I am currently facing with a job offer.
Let me introduce myself briefly. I am a 2023 Btech graduate(CSE) from a tier-3 college , having completed my studies this month. I got placed at a reputable company through campus drive with a great package for a fresher (close to 7 figure) and the offer letter I received initially stated June as joining date. However, the company contacted us all selected candidates notifying an extension of our joining date, pushing it further by three months.
This news has left me feeling anxious and uncertain about the status of my employment.While I understand that companies sometimes encounter unexpected obstacles, I can't help but worry about the potential revocation or cancellation of my job offer during this extended period. I have been eagerly anticipating the start of my professional journey, and this delay has caused some apprehension and uncertainty.
Therefore, I am reaching out to this forum, seeking advice from those who may have faced similar situations or have knowledge about the industry norms. What would you recommend I do in this scenario? Should I express my concerns to the company? Is it common for companies to delay job offers? How can I ensure that my offer remains secure during this extended period?
Thank you in advance for your time and assistance.

Okay, kind of long but here goes.
My 10 year old autistic son has REALLY struggled with school the past 2 years, after a year at home doing remote education where he really flourished. He used to be quiet and shy, then broke out of his shell and started really engaging with adults mainly. Then school started up again... He turned into a kid who has outbursts at school. It started with minor stuff - whining, passive refusal, not following rules like "don't touch the instruments in music", bossing other kids around, complaining, being silly, getting up from his seat... and escalated over the year at a steady rate. Crying, throwing himself to the floor, refusing to do work, shouting... Improved temporarily when they found an EA. By the next year, the EA had retired and they had no one so it escalated again to picking up chairs, making threats to himself or others, running out of the room or building. The school was understaffed and their solution was let him scream in the hall, put him on the floor in the hall to eat lunch, or stick him alone in a room to work. I wasn't told he was having FORTY MINUTE LONG meltdowns. No one told me. He doesn't do it at home. They said no one was able to help him.
So they started to call me to leave work to pick him up. They just did not have anyone to support him, so the behaviours escalated. Discipline didn't help. Kindness didn't help. Nothing really seems to work.
One problem was other kids teasing and egging him on - this was not addressed IMHO and while I don't condone his responses, he was solely blamed for it. He developed an extreme aversion to other children, and is now hypersensitive to anyone even looking at him, thinks kids hate him, assumes the worst. His self esteem tanked.
He has been through a LOT (sudden death during covid of his grandma he saw daily his whole life 2 years ago, extreme bullying to the point some kids smashed our window and he can't play outside alone now, lack of support at school, a highly stressed mom (me), new babies at his dad's, lots of changes). I do not blame the school for being understaffed, many of them tried. It was extremely stressful for all of us. But it was traumatic to my son.
He is now at a new school for a month and the behaviours have carried over. He's in an autism class with only 6 kids, 1 teacher, 2 support teachers. They do part of their day with their own grade, then go back to their home room for most of the time. It really seems amazing there. But. He still seems unable to handle it. Still spending his day crying, shouting, whining, refusing, melting down, won't go near other kids or interact.... It's breaking my heart and they don't know what to do there either.
At HOME? He's been doing amazing. He started therapy in early 2022. First group for a few months, then 1 to 1. They work on social skills, emotional skills, how to express his empathy, problem solve, etc. They are wonderful and positive and supportive of autism. I have seen extreme gains at home in so many areas. At his dad's (separated) he has become so kind and patient with his little brothers. When I take him out, he's mostly great.
The worst issue I have at home is mainly avoiding/arguing a little or repeatedly asking me to buy apps and whining lol. Normal kid stuff with the spice of autism. He is wonderful if I ask him to help with chores, tell him it's time for bed, etc. He brings his dishes to the sink and gets himself ready on time. He definitely does have a pervasive "negative" attitude in some ways. Getting frustrated a lot when he can't immediately be good at something, giving up fast, complaining, using inappropriate expressions when he's mad ("I should kick that stupid guy in the face" type stuff)... We are working on that. But he's NEVER physically aggressive, mean, or destructive. Doesn't really have meltdowns anymore, very rare when he's overwhelmed. Has started self regulating and getting his weighted blanket out or fidgets or asking to go for a little walk.
Lately he has been more emotional, crying sometimes, missing his grandma, feeling hopeless. I feel like, no wonder, with everything he's been through. I am getting him into psychotherapy soon, while we work on it at home too and I'm starting parent coaching sessions soon, just trying to find the right fit for 1:1 psychotherapy with autism. He is definitely anxious, and I am concerned about it.
The school is still pushing for meds. But the side effects worry me. It absolutely is behavioural but I also can't tell how much is environmental. Problem is, consequences don't help, neither do rewards. But he must have SOME control as he doesn't act this way anywhere else, even under pressure.
I know school is the hardest environment, but it feels so risky to start trialling medications, without knowing long term affects, when he is doing so great at home... There's not a ton of promising research on effectiveness. Even SSRIs, risk of suicidal thoughts scares me - mental illness like bipolar, depression, anxiety, alcoholism, runs in the family on all sides. And affects on growth/development have been shown with most psych meds. His appetite is always low and he's a restrictive eater. He will not eat much for breakfast, even preferred foods, barely lunch either. My other concern is medication interactions - he has allergies and it's not daily, but when he needs to take his meds, he REALLY needs them.
My dream solution would be quit my job, try to homeschool. As a single parent, not an option sadly.
Has anyone else experienced this? I feel so, so lost. What do other people do? Has anything worked for your kids?
That's a lot, and if you read it all, thank you lol.

I have a 2012 Outback, the final year of the EJ253. Manual says 7500 mile interval for normal driving, 3750 for "severe" driving. I would generally split the difference and do it every 5k since I do a little bit of hard driving and a little bit of normal driving, and 5k intervals are easy to remember.
My mechanic now doesn't use conventional oil any more, they have switched exclusively to full synthetic, and I'm wondering how long I should go between oil changes now. The manual is unhelpful because it's written with conventional in mind. The sticker from the shop is useless because every shop near me (even the dealer!) still writes in 3k intervals on the sticker like it's 1975 again. I know synthetic is supposed to last longer, but going 7-10k miles on an engine as finicky and sensitive to oil issues as an EJ25 seems like a gamble. Anyone else put synthetic in an NA EJ engine? What's your interval?

So I have a great thrift store near me that always has sewing machines for sale. They are usually very cheap and might be worth picking up and spending the money to have it serviced/see if it works. I’m a beginner working on a Singer Prelude so a baby of a machine. What models should I keep my eye out for?

Hi guys,
So I’ve been restoring for about a year with mixed levels of commitment. I’ve gone from a c-0 to a c-2. Andres method gave me the best results. However, at my current job I just can’t tug, cause I work at a farm and my hands are filthy all day. I pee outside and don’t have regular access to water to wash off first.
So, my current routine is to tug 15 minutes in the morning and before bed, and to use the DTR for an hour or 2 during the evening. I am wondering if this is enough to make some progress, even if slow, or if I need to find a way to get more tug time in. I’m also open to any suggestions on how to be more efficient or get more tug time in!
One other question I had is about hair creep and the DTR. I can tell that using the DTR does stretch hair up my shaft a bit in order to be able to get my foreskin into the suction area. I’m wanting to use a ball stretcher with it, but right now I don’t have enough skin to have my ball skin in place and get my bit of foreskin into the DTR. Does anyone have any advice on how to navigate this?
Thanks for your help, fellas 💙

Hi,
I’m a 26 year old white English male. So for about 14 months now I’ve had pelvic and festival pain. When it first started my balls were aching quite severely for about 1 week straight & and I also had an uncomfortable feeling in my pelvic area halfway between my pubic area and my belly button, but on the left side. I went to the doctors, he thought I had a cyst in my testical, after checks, I don’t. It took about 10 months for me to properly see someone and get diagnosed with a small varicocele in my left testicle. I’ve still had the pelvic for the entire time, all day, everyday. About 8 months in started developing an itchy anus which would bleed when wiping (no blood in stool). Assumed this was due to an anal fissure/hemorrhoids.
I was provided cream for this but I’ve had it for about 6 months and it hasn’t went away, the bleeding has mostly stopped due to being more focussed on how I clean it but it’s still itchy. The pelvic pain is uncomfortable when I exercise and when I’m sitting down, it gets better when I lie down. The actual source feels like it radiates from one particular location on the left side of my pelvic area and I also have lower back pain. I’ve had an ultrasound where they didn’t notice anything and I’ve also been prescribed anti-Biotics for a month incase it was prostatitis. They checked my prostate and it seemed normal size and they also made me a do a flow test at the hospital to make sure I’m emptying my bladder properly, which I am. It doesn’t burn when I urinate, I haven’t lost weight, I don’t feel the need to urinate all the time, my stools aren’t completely solid but also not completely diarrhoea, I do need to poo several times a day but I eat a lot with going to the gym. I do sometimes get bloated and feel full.
I recently had a Vericocele embolisaiton procedure, however it wasn’t completed as when they had the metal coil inside my vein, they couldn’t locate the exact vein people normally have in that location because in their words ‘my plumbing is different to most people’. I’m currently waiting to hear back to see what they’re going to try instead. I really need this sorted, it’s effecting my mental health and wearing me down. My pelvic area sometimes feels like I’ve got pins and needles there, it’s just really uncomfortable and my balls ache everyday. I don’t know how they haven’t completely ruled out a hernia or bowel cancer but it’s a nightmare trying to get booked in for a doctors appointment with the NHS and when they do check something I’ve always got to wait about 4 months, meanwhile my condition could be getting worse.
Diet - eat plenty fruit, veg and meat every day. Plenty water. Very little sugar processed sugar.
Exercise - Weight lifting 4/5 times per week, been doing boxing every Saturday for nearly 2 months.
Does anybody have any idea’s what it could be/what to do?
Thank you.

Everyone is telling me that they’re so excited for the wedding and can’t wait. I smile in response and respond appropriately but inside, I’m screaming. I am so stressed about what people are going to think. Is the venue too cramped? Are the decorations not personalized enough? Will the food be cold? Will they hate dessert? Will the DJ do a good job?
At this point, I just want to get this done. This is the most stressful thing I have ever planned in my life. Our guest list is like ~30 people more than we originally planned for. Everyone is RSVPing yes. People are traveling from other countries.
The pressure to give them a good time after they do all this…it’s so much. I would have much preferred a low-key celebration with a small handful of people. But in my culture, it doesn’t work that way.
SIGH. I just feel drained.

Advice from the ladies more in my age range appreciated. I'm 51/m and I match with someone new perhaps 3-4 times a month. I generally only swipe on those I feel could be a genuine match. I look for connection and chemistry on the first date and will only go on subsequent dates if I feel a genuine mutual interest.
I matched with someone new this week and we had a brief interaction on Bumble before exchanging numbers as I asked her out for a drink. She seemed excited about it and suggested Thursday night (today).
We live in the same metro vicinity but not real near each other. So, there are a few areas of town we might meet and I know places to go in each of these areas, and I'm happy to suggest options. During our Bumble conversation, I asked "What areas of town would be convenient for you? I have options to suggest". She said "ok, I'll think about it", and then gave me her number for us to switch to text.
This was Tuesday. I have sent her good morning texts each of the last couple of days and asked how her day was last night. In addition, I asked if she had had any ideas for meeting tonight. Her response was a bit cryptic saying "I'm trying to see what'll work."
Here we are mid morning on the day we're supposed to meet and we've said good morning today. However, she still hasn't responded to confirming plans for tonight.
I generally don't mind being more spur of the moment, especially with someone I know. But I also don't like blocking my evening for someone when I'm not sure if they plan to actually show up. I give it a reasonable chance she'll ask to reschedule or just cancel altogether.
So my question is this - what's a clever way to phrase a text to confirm plans for tonight without being too pushy, but also somehow stresses it would be decent of her to not leave me hanging indefinitely?
One other thing, I go out of town for a few days early tomorrow and won't be back for a few days. In my experience, if you don't meet relatively quickly with someone new, interest can fade very quickly, so I am hoping to meet her tonight.
Thanks for your help in advance on how to phrase this text.

So, I live in Florida, and for those who don't know, Assault was discontinued in FL for some reason. Earlier this morning, I'm at the gas station near my job, getting myself a couple energy drinks, and I see this can of Assault. I was SO FKING HAPPY... for a moment. I even waited to drink it so I could savor it since it had been like 10 years or so since I last had it, so I was STOKED. I cracked it open and took a sip... and... why the fk does this taste like cherry cough medicine?
Like, I legit thought I was remembering the flavor wrong for a sec until I saw that a bunch of other people are in the same boat. I'm sitting here at my desk thinking "Do I just have a really shit memory? Did my taste buds change? What happened?" But, glad to see I'm not the only one who bought this going "Wait... what the f**k is this shit?"
I finished the can, and after getting over the initial shock, it's not as bad as the first sip. But holy f**k, this is NOT the same flavor AT ALL. I was expecting a sharp, almost fruit punch, but more sour-ish, flavor. NOT this super sweet monstecherry-cola shit. Needless to say, I'm not buying Assault again until they fix it.
And it's such a bummer too, seeing this flavor took me right back to the good times, which there weren't many of, in high school for a moment, and then trampled all over those fond memories when I tasted it. It just makes me sad man.

I tried using Tinder as well other dating apps, but I gave them up because of the reasons I detail below. I am not writing this from a supercilious place--I have friends and family who have found long-lasting love off of the apps--but only as a document of my experience. I hope you enjoy it. (You can also read it here for better formatting.)
--
I met Anna atop a toilet seat. You see, I met Anna on Tinder, when I was atop a toilet seat. Anna was the first girl I ever met atop a toilet seat. She was a Swedish girl who stood a self-reported five-foot-five. She had cold crystal blue eyes and blonde hair that fell in waves past her shoulders. Evidently, she had been surfing—though she was still learning—and liked dogs. She also seemed to like tight black dresses that emphasized her dimensions. I was an Indian-American boy who stood a slightly fabricated five-foot-eleven. I had bright green eyes and brown hair that curled above my ears. Evidently, I had several friends and liked poetry. I also liked tight black dresses and attractive Swedish girls, but I only implicitly revealed this information. Likely, it became explicit soon after, although I cannot remember exactly what I said to her because I felt nothing when I said it. However, I do remember that our conversation was both brief and curt: some chatter and then a sporadic series of “where are you?”s. § Two hours later, we were together. I met her by Union Square’s subway steps on a warm October night. She had her phone in her hand and was wearing a tight black dress and black boots that came up to her knees. “I thought you would be taller,” she said. “Thanks,” I replied. We walked five blocks to an apartment party. She had a few drinks and I had more. Ninety minutes later, we took an Uber Pool in the direction of my apartment. To the ire of our driver, she refused to stop fiddling with his music. Three or four times, he scolded her when passion prompted her to turn up Avicii’s latest radio hit. “There are other people in the car,” he said. But Anna really could not help it. Eventually, he gave in and all of us—her up front, me in the back with a couple who did not care for Anna’s fidgety fingers—drove up Tenth Avenue listening to electronic hit after electronic hit. Upstairs, everything proceeded quickly along the expected lines. Once we reached the end of them, I took out a book of TS Eliot poems I had recently purchased. I read her The Waste Land while she checked the quality of her manicure and tried to discern the exact white of my walls (eggshell) and listened to the slight hum of my refrigerator to determine if it was a signal of dilapidation. “I had not thought death,” I continued with ardor growing by the word, “had undone so many—” “Can we go back to bed?” she asked, her lips in a pout, her head cocked to the left. I read the next line to myself—“Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled”—and looked up at her. “Sure,” I said. She left at eight o’clock the next morning in the same dress and heels of the night before. We never saw each other again. We never spoke again. Expected lines. But I do still think of Anna fondly from time-to-time. She was my first and only experience on Tinder. She was the girl who inadvertently showed me that I should never use dating apps, not because the experience was bad, but only because of what constitutes their foundation. § The definition of bravery is the ability to face danger, fear, or difficulty. Before Anna, I had always needed to take a risk with an attractive girl. Anxiety would climb up from my stomach to my throat—sometimes my voice would quaver, sometimes my hands would shake—and I would be full of an atavistic fear that still arises today. I am not alone in that fear. Nearly every man I’ve spoken to is still filled with it—in spite of the eight beers sloshing around his stomach—because of how risky approaching a woman was in tribal times. Not only could rejection lead to a social ostracization that would make it harder to mate in the future, but the very act of talking to a taken woman could lead to a caveman depositing a rock on your head. Despite the irrationality of the fear in today’s context, most men still feel the boulder looming, which was the insight that made Tinder successful. With Anna, there was no nervousness to speak of: technology had finally helped our brains catch up with the abundance of modern society. I could not feel rejection from her because of the application’s design: had Anna not responded, it would have been another. Tinder showed me that there was a sea of Annas, all accessible as long as you were equipped a well-tuned profile and a sinewy thumb up to the challenge. Dating apps are similar to other modern “innovations” from the junk food that plays on our desire for the once-scarce sugar to the social media platforms that play on our craving for social validation and acceptance. Though there are certainly positives to these technologies, the removal of evolutionarily-coded frictions often has adverse consequences. Now, we die of obesity not starvation. Now, we feel alone despite having thousands of followers. Since the advent of the internet, we’ve learned that it is easy to hijack our lizard brains, but it is not easy to do so satisfactorily without insidious effects. When technology makes pleasure more accessible or discomfort less painful, the negatives often flow from one place to another. By removing much of the traditionally-required courage from dating, Tinder has made us weaker because bravery—like any other muscle—atrophies when one does not exercise it regularly. Avoiding opportunities to develop courage is a terrible idea. Bravery is more important than other qualities of body and mind because it is the cornerstone of a well-lived life. Courage enables us to uphold other virtues, and it is the defining factor of potential: much of the difference between what your life is and what it could be comes down to your valor in trying moments. But all forms of modern technology make it easy to live a life that is entirely uncourageous, and it is no coincidence that we’ve reached the nadir of our collective heroism. Societies break down when courage is winnowed out of them—should we be surprised that our world is in pieces? § The definition of romance is a feeling of mystery, excitement, and remoteness from everyday life—an explanation so reductive that it is useless. Romance, like many sensitive emotions, can only be understood through experience. Unfortunately, dating apps in tandem with modern culture and technology are making it more and more inaccessible—not only in sexual relationships, but in all aspects of life. In the past, young adults went out to hear live music that played with their heartstrings—now it’s grinding to the Blue Remix. In the past, we stopped strangers to ask directions—now it’s Google Maps. In the past, we stumbled into small alluring restaurants—now it’s DoorDash. Our distaste for immersing ourselves in the intricacies of life does not stop there. Dating—once the nucleus of the romantic experience—has been reduced to one million faceless faces; countless one-night stands under the guise of sexual empowerment; calculated dating decisions based on curated photographs and physical dimensions; the quota of flirtation before the bedroom. As romance can still exist after the first encounter, perhaps it is possible to design a dating app that encourages it as Keeper is attempting to; yet in their current iteration nearly all of them are training us that sex without connection is the expectation, not the exception1. For a platform to successfully regain what we’ve lost, they must not only open us to emotion and train us out of our societal fetish for “body counts” the length of laundry lists, but also curate experiences that send butterflies fluttering with the same passion that used to be found in the Ritz Bar. Until that day—if it ever comes—Hinge, Tinder, Bumble and the like will continue to be partially responsible for the death of romance, a genocide we must take seriously as it is one of the core reasons to live. Without romance there is less love, regret, remorse, happiness—at times exhilarating, at times painful—but always bringing us in deeper connection with the feelings that make us human. Today we are moving towards a world where many of us only have a seed of this spirit inside of them, locked up in a solitary walled garden, nearly impossible to reach. § Bravery and romance are forces that are too strong to be wiped out at once. Instead, they will die the death of one trillion cuts. Every swipe is a cut. Every one-night stand without a trace of connection is a cut. Dating apps are responsible for billions of them.

TLDR: Online boyfriend (27m) of 1 year goes radio silent on me (26f) after irl date, claims he is super stressed with work and other commitments.
J and I met through an online community for our hobby, it's pretty niche so we would always manage to cross paths. J works a pretty demanding job irl (constantly travelling, phone and emails never off type), and takes this hobby seriously (as he is heavily involved in the running of the community), to the point where you could consider it a second job, almost like a daily escape. Eventually, we started talking and formed a connection where we found out how similar we are. This eventually turned into us online dating, it has been about 1 year now.
We have never had any arguments, essentially have a shared brain. We can pretty much spend hours on end in a call up until the early hours, talking, watching movies, playing games together, working on our hobby together. J would call me every lunchtime for a quick catch-up, followed by a call in the evening (only if we weren't busy with our own plans). It was starting to get quite serious with actual plans for the future.
J lives in a different city, but still close enough that he visits weekly for his job. Last month we made plans to meet in-person for the first time, this would also be the first time we would actually see what we both look like too, even though physical attraction has never really been something we cared about over the past year. While J isn't really my type, and I am not exactly supermodel material myself, I didn't mind at all, I loved the person that J is, and over the next couple of hours my heart had completely fallen for J. The date (in my opinion) went quite well, and I stayed the night with J where we were intimate, followed by tons of I-love-yous etc.
However, since then, it has been radio silent, really slow, or just complete disinterest from J. We haven't called since, and it has been around 2 weeks. I did eventually confront J after about a week of silence over what happened and why his behaviour has suddenly changed. J claims that he is extremely emotionally drained from his work commitments and drama in the online community, and that in general he is tired and really confused with what to do with his life, that there was nothing I could do to help, and that he just needs some time. I understand that sometimes people need some time for themselves, but there has to be a difference between having alone time and straight up ignoring someone right? Especially someone you love. All while the ignoring is happening, I can still see him engaging with others in the online community.
I have asked him if he is still interested in the relationship and myself, and whether the date scared him away, he said he still is interested, and that he still loves me. I have tried to give him space, I try to send a daily message just reassuring that I love him and that I am here for him, but due to the timing of it being so soon after our in-person meeting, my self-esteem is shot and I'm emotionaly distressed thinking that the problem is me. He does respond back with "love you too", but that's about it.
I've been trying to focus on myself and work on my wellbeing, but I just feel so uneasy as I really care for J and just really want to help him out of a difficult situation, and having to suddenly adjust something that was part of my daily routine, to no longer having it in my life anymore has been a struggle. I don't know if this is J's way of breaking up with me, or if this is a man thing with him crawling into his hole because he doesn't know how to handle his current situation.