You close the door of the black sedan behind you and assume a comfortable position in the leather seat. The driver doesn't say a word to you, the only acknowledgement of your presence being the quiet rumble of the engine as your ride takes off. A quick look through the dimmed window reveals an open field of concrete with some plain warehouses scattered around and several dozen people tending to pieces of machinery, but the speed at which you're going makes you unable to examine them closer. You've never seen this part of the military base. The one you're familar with was filled with everpresent mud, cramped barracks that reeked of unwashed recruit bodies, and sergeants with voices so loud they almost destroyed your eardrums. It's definitely not a place you'll remember fondly. A month of exhausting drills and boring mental tests is what took your superiors to get your sorry rear in shape they were content with, and even then you wondered if it was enough. You're just a regular civilian, so what are they expecting you to do here, exactly? Especially now, since you were chosen to take part in something bigger than becoming yet another crossed out name on the list of fresh cannon fodder.
Before you can begin contemplating your life choices, something bright in front of you draws your attention. A screen built into the back of the seat in front of you lights up, greeting you with a logo of Whitehart Motors. Suddenly, you hear a voice that could only be described as lifeless and robotic.
Welcome, new recruit. We are honored to have you here - a brave soul willing to become a stalwart shield of our glorious nation. You may not think that you are fit for such a role, but you were chosen for a reason. We believe that you have the skills required to become a pilot of a Synchro Frame. The brainchild of Whitehart Motors and the Research Institute of Robotics and Artificial Intelligence, Synchro Frames were built to protect our country from threats from beyond. Utilising the former's cutting edge machinery together with the latter's advancements in the field of man-made life, we managed to create a true marvel of technology that continues to impress. As a Synchro Pilot of the GLD-02 "Grail Seeker", you will be tasked with controlling a Synchro Frame alongside a Synchro Operator - an artificial lifeform designed to bring out the true potential of a Synchro Frame. Your assigned Synchro Operator will also serve as a teacher, guide, and companion, always ready to answer any and all questions you might have. We hope th-
The car stops, and silence once again fills the luxurious interior. Before you can start questioning the incredibly confusing and vague things you just heard, you feel that it's time for you to exit the vehicle. What you find outside is a hangar, bigger than any you've seen before. You're standing right in front of its giant doors, and as soon as you turn your head to look for anyone that might be looking for you, they begin to open. Through the slowly widening crack, illuminated by the bright midday sun, you see something that takes your breath away. A steel giant in the shape of a human, so large that you never even considered the possibility of such a machine existing. Not until today.
There's something else as well. A much, much smaller figure steps out of the hangar and heads in your direction. A couple moments pass, and you're able to see that it resembles a woman wearing an oversized hoodie and baseball cap, her long, white hair flowing in the wind as she walks.
"Greetings. I assume you're my new pilot." She stops right before you and extends her hand. A piercing blue gaze meets your own eyes. "I hope you can lead me well."
Hello there! I hope you enjoyed this little introduction to the concept! This prompt is centered around the idea of your character becoming a mecha pilot of a Synchro - a union of a giant robot and an android sharing an empathic link - and being thrown into a massive conflict where the life of an individual doesn't particularly matter. Your primary objective here is survival, and perhaps learning more about the mystery of the war your nation is currently fighting.
A little bit about myself - I'm a 21 year old gal from the GMT+2 timezone who got into Gundam a few months ago thanks to Witch from Mercury. If you haven't seen it, I recommend it! It's what prompted me to watch yet another Gundam series - Iron-Blooded Orphans, which I haven't finished yet. Thanks to them I realized just how fun a mecha setting could be, and now I'd love to meet other people who think the same!
This rp is meant to follow a lot of the themes of the Gundam series, like the horrors of war and discrimination, but that doesn't mean there can't be some lighter moments or bonding with your friends, resulting in potential romance. However, I'm planning for this to be a long rp, so anyone wanting to hold hands with your cute android companion will have to be patient.
I'd like to assume a sort of a GM role where I control the world and most of the characters, while you'll be following along a certain route due to having to answer orders from your superiors, you will be free to do what you want during downtime, so I'm heavily encouraging people who enjoy taking initiative! Hell, you could even defect from the military with your giant robot and join the opposite side if you'd like, but remember that your actions have consequences!
As for your character, there are only two strict requirements - she has to be a woman, as I have no interest in writing romance with male characters, and she has to be a new recruit, like described in my introduction. Aside from that, get creative! Doesn't matter if she's cis or trans, younger or older, all I'm looking for are fun ideas that will the roleplay more enjoyable. I will share more info on the setting in private messages, but feel free to just spitball anything that you might find interesting.
Requirements for you, the player, are a bit more strict, but I'd like to ensure that I set the right expectations: - No misogynists, racists, homophobes, transphobes. I'm a trans lesbian and if you're the kind of [REDACTED] who would have a problem with this then don't even bother wasting my time. - Be literate. Usually I write between 3 and 6 paragraphs, sometimes even more, but for a good time with me you'll be fine with 2-3 solid paragraphs that will give me something to work with. If you give me more, then I'll personally kiss you. - Be flexible. I have ADHD and a lot on my plate thanks to college, so I'm not the great at replying consistently. Sometimes you'll get two responses in a day, sometimes none for a week. Make sure to keep that in mind. You don't have to worry about me nagging you over a response either. - Use Discord. It's the only platform I use to rp due to the ease of storing important information. As a part of that, do not contact me using reddit chat. All chat requests will be ignored. - (Optional but appreciated) Talk to me! I enjoy chatting with my roleplay partners a lot, as I believe good ooc often leads to good ic.
I think that's everything! Haven't made a prompt post in a while so I might go back and edit some stuff later, but hopefully I was able to interest you in the concept. Have a nice day!

I do not understand why people bring their young children to informational tours. I recently went to a cave tour, where we followed a tour guide in a group of about forty people. There were three or so families with children under twelve, including one family who brought an infant with their other four or five year olds and another family who had four boys who couldn't have been over ten. The infant was fussing towards the beginning and middle of the tour, and the boys were touching things they were told not to. This brought me to make this post and rant a little bit about parents who bring their fussy children to things like this. I could hardly hear the tour guide over all the children (and the occasional shushes from the parents). That's a shame, too because our tour guide was amazing. They obviously knew a lot about the cave we toured, and was really interesting and funny. I would also like to clarify something: I have no issue with kids going on historic tours. It only crosses the line when they cry, scream, run around, or act out. Misbehaving kids takes the experience away from the people around them, but it also takes the experience away from the parents. All of the parents I saw today looked annoyed, which is understandable when their children were running around. The children likely won't remember the experience, and it can be stressful for the parents. So why bring fussy kids to historic tours?

Today at 9:04pm i finally smoked my last cigarettes ever it was a couple of camels,i started at age of 16 and quit now after 2 years of smoking. Wish me luck towards a better life. Thanks you'all I made this post to be reminder for me that i made it and quit smoking.

Welcome to dark ages! This is a Bedrock server placed in Europe(and some of North Africa/Middle east.) Countries will be made, diplomacy will happen, war even! We hope you can join and either become a citizen or make your own country! There will be land expansions to gain more territory and events that may happen that cause you to lose territory. Make a flag, make alliances, and forge a empire in Dark Ages! We did have a past one that did amazing, reaching about 50 players (30 of which were quite active) and had about a total of 5 wars. It lasted about 3 - 4 months.
There is a discord so we ask that you either leave a comment below or dm me your discord user and any questions you may ask.
A week will be given until the realm is released for people to create countries, form alliances, align people to their nation and etc.
Discord rules:
𝟷. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚢.
𝟸. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚏𝚞𝚕.
𝟹. 𝙳𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎, 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍.
𝟺. 𝙳𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝙸 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚓𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜, 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚏𝚞𝚕.
𝟻. 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜
Realm Rules:

1. Do not use any exploits or hacks.
   
2. Do Not get mad and quit if you lose your loot. Either go find it or make new loot.
   
3. If anyone kills you and steals your loot without reason then please @ a mod or owner, explain what happened and please tell us what you lost, their username, etc.
   
4. Please try and build within the nation you live in.
   
5. Do not steal/grief
   
6. Do not build swastikas around the world (had a problem with this last server)]
   
7. More rules may be made in the future.
   

Country rules:

1. If someone declares a war on you/you lose a walose a battle do not get mad or pissy. It happens.
   
2. If you cannot get your own country do not get mad, just join another.
   
3. Revolutions may happen but take time and you must tell a mod or owner of it happening and explain why. (Example: Your leader is a dictator, your group does not believe in the same ideology, another country is hiring you to do so, etc.)
   
4. If you plan to make a country you must be willing to play frequently, spend time planning a government, doing expansions, make/ find a flag, etc.
   
5. Any land that is NOT controlled by a country is considered Barbarian land. Killing, stealing, and etc IS allowed in Barbarian land.
   
6. Any land that IS controlled by a country is considered governed land. Stealing, killing, and griefing is NOT allowed. (Killing is an exception depending on whats its for. Example: Assassination, war.)
   

Hi everyone.
I think my line manageteam leader is bullying me and I have had enough. But I don’t know if I’m overreacting so I need some more opinions.
I work in the healthcare sector in the U.K. - funny because I thought that’s where mental health and physical health would matter the most but clearly not to the people I work with.
I’ve been working at my current workplace for nearly 2 months now. But I feel like I am being so nitpicked by my current line manager. I must also point out although maybe not relevant that I am an ethnic minority in my workplace. I was late once due to traffic (I catch the bus - a bus that only comes once every 2 hours from my town) so it takes me an hour to get to the town where my workplace is. I was 7 mins late to my work place that once. Btw for my job I don’t need to swipe in or swipe out, you work according to your schedule - and in my diary I had nothing on till 9 so me coming at 8:07 was not effecting my performance in any way. I just feel like this line manager of mine just wants to nitpick and find any excuse to tell me off as he’s very new to having this sort of power of authority. That’s the first example that’s happened. The second example, i asked him if it’s possible for me to have more days in the week to work from home ( I currently only have Friday as work from home) OR be moved to the closer office that is very close to my house if they really need me to come in (bc I’m a newbie) instead of travelling 2hours for 4 days a week - and this is because I am also still a newish mum. I explained to him that my child is still an infant (my baby is 9months old) and I just feel like it would help me so much to have that request accepted. He said he will look into it but never agreed to it. What annoys me is that it’s easily a request that could be done - as many in my position are given working options that suit them. Example 3 - Im doing my job very well and I have gotten so many positive feedback from other colleagues - but not one single positive feedback from my line manager. Which is fine but it just makes me think he really has it against me for some reason? One of my colleagues even told me to be careful as she thinks he really does not like me and it seems that he is nitpicking on everything I do and waiting for me to slip up. This was her observation. Now Idk what to think , this has sealed what I’ve been feeling. As I initially thought it might be in my head.
Now latest example, I’ve been diagnosed recently with IBD unfortunately, so more trips to the loo. and last Thursday I was late to our teams catch up meeting that was at 9. I messaged him saying I was going to be a few mins late - as I had something personal going on (I was too embarassed to mention my diagnosis at this point because I just am not comfortable with this man at all). He proceeded to berate me and say I’m always late. I said to him I’ve only been late twice since I’ve started working? And that I had a good excuse for both occasions. He replies back saying I am “arguing back instead of taking his feeedback on board” I was like ????? I said to him I am defending myself because I don’t think the way you’ve been treating me is fair. He then says he’s going to put the request I told him about on hold bc he thinks I’m underperforming? At that point I just stayed quiet and thought to myself I’m never going to win here. I then told him I was recently diagnosed with IBD and it’s affecting me a lot mentally and physically. He was like “what’s that” and then Googled it and said it out loud in such a monotone voice. “Irritable bowel disease” and he literally showed me no empathy or nothing? Is this normal? What should’ve been my dream job is now a place I dread going to. I dread going to work and I feel so on edge everytime I am there. All weekend I’ve been crying and not knowing what to do. I even had thoughts of just quitting and staying at home caring for my baby instead of going aomewhere where they are not willing to understand or make any sort of adjustment because my line manager has it in for me for some reason. Please advice on what can I do? Is quitting my only option?

i am terribly sorry but i cannot do this. my heart isn't in this anymore. i wanna be with someone who hasn't hurt me, especially not someone who has hurt me purposely over and over. i wanna be with someone who is patient with me. i want to be with someone who doesn't trigger my ptsd. i don't want to be with someone who has on multiple occasions pushed the boundaries of my consent. there are several people willing to jump in your place and you had more than a year to treat me right but you didn't until after you blacked out. and yes i wanted to try to make things work but i just can't do it. i can't move past what you did, what you've done. the only reason i tried making this work is because i'm attached to you but now i realize that's not a good enough reason and i'm sorry for that. i want to see you get better and improve but i don't think i can heal from all you've done to me without a large amount of space from you. it's to the point that a part of why i think about quitting is just to get some space from you, which sucks because i love what we do. i've avoided telling my friends that i gave you another chance because i'm ashamed. they would be so disappointed in me. i shouldn't be with someone i can't tell my friends about.

Title says it all. I feel so fucking embarrassed by it because ive beem like it since 16 and im now 27. I have crippling health anxiety again since I convinced myself I had pancreatic cancer a year ago. It was a horrible time and really thought I had it, fully convinced myself. I didn't even have all the symptoms. I had a back ache from quitting gym and becoming inactive and I paired my stomach issues with it, and that's how I came to my conclusion.
I have had counselling and it has worked very well but I have slip ups thinking I have all sorts of different life ending diseases. I feel so embarrassed about how my mind works and my mentality around my health. Sometimes if I get that bad I'll seek a doctors opinion which is pathetic because I feel like I'm wasting NHS time when they tell me I'm fine. I haven't done this for a while though unless I have solid reasons too because I refuse to be one of those fuckers that constantly ring and sit down A&E
I weigh myself daily and I'm 1 pound lighter than I was this morning and guess what? I've convinced myself I'm dying of an underlying cancer like stomach or pancreatic and I've already predicted that I'm gonna keep losing weight without trying, like I can see into the fucking future... Just something nasty that's gonna finish me off. I don't feel very great anyway cos I had a tetanus shot yesterday cos I got bit by a dog, but my mind just keeps jumping to that catastrophic outcome rather than something reasonable.
I think like this a lot and I don't tell anyone (except my therapist). Its basically my daily thinking process but some days are worse than others.
Long shot... Anyone else suffer with health anxiety?

The Anomaly was stable.
That's what the government called it, the magic field around the town that turned people into Kobolds. The rules we had ascertained at the beginning of this were still consistent, a Human could enter and leave as many times as they liked and they would remain Human, there was no known process to reverse this, except a spell called True Polymorph, but that would take years, perhaps even decades, of experimentation, innovation, and- possibly- killing, if the players were correct.
It was the realization that I wanted to remain a Kobold that had allowed me to realize I had been fixated only on my kind, our little village in the town. I distinctly remembered living as a Human- even though the memories caused me nothing but grief- knew how to navigate, how to speak with our Human neighbors, how to use technology.
My understanding of the world wasn't being overridden, it was just that, culturally, me and my people were regressing, and even understanding that, we couldn't stop because we didn't want to stop, it felt more comfortable.
The term 'medieval stasis' was tossed around, the idea of a setting remaining locked in a culturally and technologically medieval state. This didn't feel true to me, if I had a microwave that didn't take up a shit ton of space, I'd definitely use it over cooking over a fire. The flatscreen in my old house was practically like sitting in a theater, the bed was disproportionately huge, like going from a twin to a really long queen size.
I didn't see it as technological regression, so much as nothing was made for us, there was no way to accommodate us in a modern society. Even just going to the nearby city was distressing because we're really fucking small, and even scampering across a road on all fours was just asking for someone to get run over or stepped on.
Not to mention, the Humans were also distressed at our presence, even though it was explained what had happened. That said, there were people who came to our town, people who specifically wanted to become Kobolds. Even knowing that it was a very permanent and life-changing experience, even having us explain that there was nothing to accommodate them out in the wider world, they simply accepted that, yes, we were very much a minority in the world that couldn't possibly be accommodated because we were so rare.
But they were insistent, they were fully willing to abandon their prior lives for this, and reluctantly, they were allowed in.
The process was always painless, they just walked in, shrank, and turned into a Kobold, and could just walk over to us and fit right in. The people who wanted this just seemed to be more natural at it, or maybe they were just aware of what we were supposed to act like and knew how to do it, unlike me, who had been completely blindsided.
It was a month into the second year, when one of the Human kids to the Kobold parents turned into a Kobold. Of course, everyone freaked out because it was against the rules, this was an illegal action and changed everything.
Except, it didn't.
The kid simply didn't want his parents to be alone anymore, so he started trying to figure out how to become a Kobold. Well, we had already established anyone who wanted to become a Kobold, aside from that initial mass transformation, would become one, he wanted it, so he became a Kobold. His brother tried as well.
Simply saying he wanted it didn't work, but when he became distressed that he couldn't to it. Pop! Instant Kobold.
Throughout all of this, Brutus just stuck to my side as a very good boy and just did not seem to mind or care that people were changing into Kobolds around him.
I woke up one morning from a sudden surge of magic within myself. At first I was freaking out, thinking I was going to explode, but then I felt myself calming down as the power settled.
Everyone freaked out when I got onto the roof of the nearest tallest building. I mean, even I was a little freaked out because this was entirely new to me, but I ran and took a flying leap off, and with a big-add feather in hand, I spoke a word, and my rapid descent slowed until I touched the ground.
Of course, everyone was pissed at me, told me that I should never do something so recklessly stupid again. Seeing everyone's concern filled me with shame, and I explained that I knew it was stupid, but I felt I had to do it. That if I tried to tell anyone, they'd just lock me up in a room or something.
How do you rationally explain you want to throw yourself off a building so you can make yourself glide to the ground?
The anger turned into excitement as people realized that meant I knew another spell, that I had hit second level and that I should be able to restore the spell I just used, which I was able to.
This of course led people to give me a player's handbook for D&D and told me to read it because my sudden growth of power meant it was absolutely consistent with it and that I should be able to figure out what all I could do.
Which I did.
It certainly outlined a lot of stuff, but it wasn't particularly useful for me, and I had a feeling that at best it was an abstraction of what our reality was, and at worst, an unreliable guide into life. So I just kind of set it to the side, said "That's nice." and went about my life.
It was the third month of the first year that the mine collapsed.
It was a dull roar, a distant rumble.
We all knew what it was the moment it happened, and every single one of us ran to the mine. Human or Kobold, we all lived in constant fear of a collapse. Our family members were competent, this was a generations-long job that a large portion of us learned just to keep the economy going.
I remembered the sound of someone screaming, there was someone trapped under a large boulder, still alive, but unable to get himself out.
Now, I had never bothered to learn the trade, that was something my father did that I was too terrified to do. I remembered, at that moment, that even though a lot of the people who became Kobolds had been miners, they refused to go into the mine, saying they just didn't feel safe in it.
We'd all just passed it off as an understandable fear that a small creature like us could get easily lost in there. But as I looked at the pile of rubble, I knew how to get him out without causing the whole thing to bury him.
I didn't hesitate, I ran forward, throwing off my clothes because I felt they would get in the way, and grabbing hold of rocks I was absolutely certain were stable, I began to climb and began grabbing the rocks that were most likely to fall and potentially kill the man and got them out of the way.
I only registered there were other Kobolds with me when I handed the rock to one of them, who passed it on to another, and another. We cleared out the immediate danger first, while other Kobolds jerry rigged something to get the boulder off the man and drag him to safety.
It goes without saying, that if I could use magic as what the players called a Sorcerer, others could use magic as something called a Cleric, and well, if the man being healed wasn't a sign that there actually was some sort of divine force in the world, I didn't know what was.
We continued to clear out the entrance, not even one rock fell as we instinctively grabbed what would cause a rock slide and got it out of the way.
When I began to feel exhausted, another Kobold came up and told me to rest. I did, carefully climbing down and only passively realizing I'd been up there for a solid four hours just working my ass off to clear the rubble.
It only occurred to me then, as I drank some water and ate some meat, that my father was down there. Saving him hadn't even been on my mind, all that ran through my mind was that I had the knowledge to help, so I helped.
A tool used for smashing the larger rocks to pieces snapped, I barely registered I was running over to them, I just took the broken tool from them and fixed it.
It didn't even matter that I was fucking exhausted and sore, I was up and over there because I was the only one that could use magic to fix things.
Nobody stood idle, There was a group of Kobolds who were waiting, certainly, but they were watching intently, hopping up and running over to relieve someone who was getting exhausted, or running food and water to someone who needed it.
We saw the first hand poking out of the rubble six hours into clearing up the entrance, focus shifted to getting them out immediately, because they were still moving, Within minutes, they were being carried down the rocks to the ground, it was clear to me they were in critical condition, and if they weren't healed, they were going to die.
The spell used on him was called 'Spare the Dying' according to the players. He instantly stabilized, the worst of his wounds- while still bleeding- simply stopped oozing out blood.
I overheard one of the nurses from the nearby city's hospital remark that- by all rights- that man should be dead. It only occurred to me that people from the hospital had come the moment the news of the collapse reached them. None of them had turned into Kobolds, but I could see on their faces that it hadn't even been a concern.
I continued fixing any tools that broke, which allowed everyone to use them again when they did break.
I saw a rock suddenly break loose, I didn't even register the word I spoke, or my hand flying out. All I knew in the next moment was my Magic Missiles hitting the rock head-on. Once, to knock it off course, and the other two times to ensure it completely missed hitting anyone. A few Kobolds looked at me with surprise and gratitude.
I simply nodded, continuing to repair things as they broke.
We found more people, most of them still hanging on by a thread, the Clerics standing by to stabilize them before having them moved over to the doctors and nurses, who were doing their best to make sure they were in a position to be taken to the hospital, where their injuries could be more properly addressed.
The fact of the matter was, we didn't have enough spells to go around to heal everyone, even among the more naturally inclined Druids.
There were people who had died. Family, friends, every time we found them, there was a pause in our work before they were dug out and brought out. We kept working, bolstered by the wails of the bereaved.
We couldn't save everyone, but we'd be damned if we didn't try.
We heard the first muffled voices of the survivors who had managed to avoid being crushed under several tons of stone. We didn't work faster, we kept up the sustainable pace we had, because hurrying would just lead to injuries.
The first hand that reached out from the darkness was briefly grasped before drawing back in. The hole was gradually widened, those of us who could fit went in, working from the inside to safely widen the hole, to shore up the unstable mine enough to keep people safe.
One by one, the trapped miners were carried out, but it wasn't even half of them.
"The rest are still in there." One of them said. "The whole thing is unstable, there's no way we can safe them."
"There's no way you can save them." Kassa, one of the Kobolds who had been a miner, said. "But we're sure as hell going to try."
I could feel the weight of the earth above me as I entered the unstable mine. It terrified the shit out of me that at any moment, it could cave in and probably kill me instantly.
Still, they needed me to fix their tools, because they were sure as hell going to break again.
It was ten hours into the rescue, we had only just gotten maybe a fourth of the people out, and a further fourth of them were dead. We had instinctively known the mine was going to collapse, we avoided it like the plague, but we didn't realize it at the time.
The earth shifted above us, small stones raining down on us. I set to work repairing the cracked timbers, I could feel that weight lessening slightly, it bought us maybe minutes, maybe seconds, but it was enough to get support struts in place.
The plan was simple, we all knew it needed to be done. We would rescue the miners, and then we would collapse the mine.
The Humans argued that the mine was our lifeblood, that without it, the town would dry up, there would be nothing.
"We can always dig more mines." I said. "We can't waste more lives on one that's just going to collapse."
As hellish as it was to make our way down into progressively more dangerous tunnels, being out of the sunlight was doing wonders for my stress. We knew where it was the most unstable, the miners knew where to put the struts to be the most effective, and when we came to the first collapse, we worked our tails off to clear it out.
We silently passed the dead along, those unlucky few who had been crushed. but the survivors who managed to cling on to life were stabilized and taken out with yips and yaps of encouragement and comfort.
When we broke through and saw the wide, terrified, yet hopeful eyes of more of the miners, we immediately knew if we proceeded, their section of the mine was going to collapse, rendering all of our hard work moot.
"We need to pass them a strut." Kassa said. "Listen, and listen carefully. We need to pass a strut through this hole to you. You need to ensure on your end it does not hit the rocks, otherwise, the section you're in will collapse."
"Just pass it through."
It was easily the most stressful thing I'd ever taken part in. Dozens of small hands keeping the damn thing stable, while the miners on the other side tried their damnedest to keep it steady. Kassa directed them to where to put it, and once it was firmly in place, we cleared the rocks out, urging the miners to get out.
They looked back at us when we didn't follow.
"No, absolutely not. You are not going in there." One of the miners said.
"Kobolds don't abandon family." My brother, Tallyn, said firmly. "We'll all die before we consign them to death."
Even though our every instinct screamed at us to turn tail and run, we pressed onward, the struts only barely keeping the ceiling above stable.
I began to hyperventilate, requiring someone to help calm me down. I was welcome to go, but I needed to stay, I needed to be present to ensure our tools could be repaired.
As if to illustrate my point, one of the struts broke, the mine groaned, and I immediately leapt up to repair it.
We went deeper.
The next collapse was reasonably stable, for what it was worth, we were able to clear it out, and thankfully without any other casualties. I had to resist the urge to run over to my father and hug him, but I did grab his arm and gave it a squeeze.
I think that was the first time he'd ever looked at me with such pride in his eyes.
Eighteen hours into the rescue, we reached the end and got everybody out. The sudden jolt of terror that ran through my body told me we needed to leave immediately. We ushered the miners out, tried not to panic as we slowly ascended to the surface. Struts began to crack, it was all I could do to keep them whole while everyone got out.
I began to smell fresh air, and that's when the mine behind us began collapsing. There was no time to waste, we ran for the surface, my exhausted and hurting body screamed at me to move, but just as I was almost out, I felt something heavy hit me, and then I was buried.
I wasn't afraid anymore. I knew I was going to die, but the moment I realized that, all fear of dying just... went. I had stabilized the mine for as long as I could, I had worked my tail off to keep things going, and I was proud of what I had accomplished.
Still, I only had the merest trickle of air, and my brain was still in survival mode.
I fell unconscious at some point, I wasn't going anywhere, and I was too tired to fight it. But when I opened my eyes, it was to the faintest shaft of light peeking in, the sounds of rocks being moved.
It was just me in here, the chances of me being alive right now was completely slim, I would have forgiven them for leaving me to tend to the wounded, but they resolutely kept working.
They had to be exhausted, at the end of their rope, there was nobody capable of continuing.
There was nobody who could save me.
"I don't care if he's dead, I'm not leaving my boy in there!" The voice was muffled, but it brought tears to my eyes. I tried to call out, but all I could manage was a weak sound.
Still, I kept breathing, kept trying, even as the rocks shifted around me dangerously, threatening to finish me off.
There was a brief pause, an indistinct voice, and then silence.
I cried out, my voice barely a audible even to me, there was no way they could hear me.
Still, I cried out, I couldn't manage a single word, but I tried regardless.
"Did you hear that?"
I cried out as loudly as I could, and then I could hear the rocks moving again, I felt the weight around me shift, I could get more air in. I cried out, louder, straining to push myself out, and then, the finally gave way.
All I could manage was pushing my snout out into the fresh air and managing another sound, I felt a hand on it, smaller, a Kobold's hand. They were still trying to reach me.
I was pulled out, my breath rasping, my body in utter agony, I was blind in one eye, and against the hellish light of the bright morning sky, I saw a Kobold leaning over me.
"Family doesn't abandon family." He spoke with my father's voice.
I felt relief as my body was healed, but I was still absolutely weak from fighting to survive.
"You became... a Kobold..." I rasped.
"I kept thinking to myself, if only I knew how to get to you." He said. "If only I could find you. I could feel myself on the cusp of transforming, and I ran headlong into it because it was the only way to save you." He hugged me, crying, overwhelmed with relief.
Of roughly 2,000 Humans, 786 died.
The miners had found a new vein, silver, certainly more than enough to keep the town going.
But they dug too deep, they weren't careful enough.
There was no resentment from the Humans for us not realizing the mine was unsafe. We didn't know at the time what the aversion was, so it was just chalked up to fear due to being in an unfamiliar situation
With the mine utterly collapsed, there was no real way of salvaging it, it would probably cost more to excavate it and make it stable than that silver vein would be worth.
Incidentally, the moment everyone was out and safe, every single Kobold had 'gained a level', the players explained that we had solved a significant crisis, and that gaining a level was usually the result of such.
They then said, with the kind of manic grin I only saw from gamers who liked games with punishing gameplay, "It's only going to get harder to earn them from here."
Getting used to life with a blind eye was a bigger adjustment than learning how to live as a Kobold was. Still, it was a small price to pay for saving as many people as we could.
We started scoping out another location for a mine, somewhere close enough that we wouldn't have to go far.
When the Human miners heard that we had an instinctive sense of when a mine was safe or not, they all instantly transformed. Even the merest prospect of having that kind of ability had led to such a strong want for it, that they just flat out changed.
Of course, like my father, they had to adjust. Some of them were upset that it happened, but like me, they learned to accept it and appreciate it.
I threw myself into honing my spellcraft, every day I practiced, getting creative with my spellwork and just generally improving in my reaction times.
My fellow Kobolds all looked at me with respect and gratitude. We all knew that my dogged insistence on going with the rescue party to make sure our tools were in top condition had prevented a lot more deaths.
It wasn't that they thought I was the only reason we succeeded, but they understood my absence would have led to catastrophe.
Having achieved this third level of power, I had gained access to something called 'metamagic', as well as second level spells.
I didn't really have any control over which spells I gained insight into, but I could sense that any spells I knew prior I could change one of them into something else.
Thus, I gained an understanding of the spells 'Witch Bolt, Vortex Warp, and Enhance Ability'. Which meant I could conjure a steady stream of electricity, teleport someone to another spot near me, and enhance someone's physical and mental attributes, of which there were apparently six.
The 'metamagic' that I learned granted me the ability to cast certain spells near-instantaneously, and to extend the duration of an effect.
There was a hard limit on what I could do, but it was useful when applied correctly. If someone was going to be doing heavy lifting, I could bolster their strength for an hour- two, if I used metamagic- or bolster the intelligence of someone who just couldn't figure something out.
The scientists who had come to study us wanted to make exclusive use of this, but I very firmly told them, "Unless you're absolutely stuck on something, and nobody else needs it before I need to sleep, then I'll do it."
That being said, I did absolutely test the spell on myself so I had an idea as to what it did.
That all being said and done, we did have a town meeting.
The Players had something important to tell us, something we needed to be aware of, before we did anything with the dead.
"There are two spells we do not have access to yet, that can return the dead to life."
Resurrection, a 'Seventh Level' spell, and True Resurrection, a 'Ninth Level' spell.
"As a Cleric, I will be devoting my all to reaching Level 13, which is the earliest that Resurrection can be learned. It is entirely likely it will take more than a year to even learn this spell, let alone get to a point where I could cast it more than every long rest."
"Roughly eight hours of rest." Another Player helpfully clarified.
"I want you all to understand, it may be entire years until I can learn it. At that point, I will only be able to restore three people to life per day. It would then take a little over nine months of non-stop effort to bring them back."
"We did the math, three people per day with just one person, that's twenty-one per week, or eighty-four per month. Seven hundred and eighty-six people divided by eighty-four is- rounding up to the nearest tenth- nine-point four."
"This is with the understanding that there is no guarantee of bringing them back. If the soul is free and willing to return, then they will return to life. Otherwise..." The Cleric trailed off.
"Otherwise, they will remain dead." His aide spoke solemnly.
"I want everyone to weigh the choice I give. I can't say they'll be appreciative of being brought back, they'll more than likely be upset that they've missed years of their life, or even if they will get the missing years back."
He looked at everyone, who sat in silent shock. "Either make your peace with the dead and move on, or wait knowing that as long as I draw breath, I will bring them back." He paused. "I will be conducting a funeral at the end of the day. May the Platinum Dragon grant you comfort, and may any Gods you worship do the same."
With that, he bowed his head and left.

-Age/Sex: 20 y/o female to male transgender -Height: 5’4 -Weight: 260 lbs -Prescribed meds: Testosterone 150mg/g (15%) topical cream daily, Seroquel 100mg, Ivega shot 117mg once a month, Trazodone 150mg, Lithium 900mg, Hydroxyzine 50mg PRN up to 2x daily, Diamox 500mg, levothyroxine 50 mcg -Substances: Alcohol (had a recent relapse and infrequent but insane use of cannabis when I use it—haven’t used cannabis in 17 days). Also nicotine (vaping) -Medical Conditions: insomnia, cyclic vomiting syndrome, IBS, idiopathic intracranial hypertension, and congenital anosmia -Mental Health Conditions: Schizoaffective bipolar type, PTSD, Borderline Personality Disorder, cannabis use disorder, possible alcohol use disorder (but not officially diagnosed). Duration of complaint: 1-3 days
So, I’m someone who struggles with substance use and goes to AA. Life has been super crazy and I just had a friend cut me out of their life late last week which triggered a manic episode for me starting a few days ago. When I get manic, sometimes I get psychotic (not right now), sometimes I get suicidal (not right now), and sometimes I do high risk behaviors like binge drink/use, do like 16 random unsafe hook ups in a week, etc. I talked with a crisis line to talk myself out of meeting someone random at 4am for a hook up in a van in a very bad area of town today. I sleep every other day. I have zero appetite. Etc. I’m definitely in a manic episode (and was just in psychiatric inpatient for a manic and psychotic state while sober for like a month).
So, I relapsed with alcohol last night because when I’m in a full blown manic episode not drinking/using is almost impossible. I’ve had 8 drinks since 3am today (didn’t sleep last night due to mania) and I’m worried of consuming more tonight and days beyond that. I’m currently sober. I struggled more so with alcoholism when I was 18 and then it flipped to cannabis when I was 19 (when I started receiving help for substance use). The last almost 2 years, I’ve drank like once every 2-3 months but binge drink every time I drink.
I literally tried every coping skill in the book this time around to stay sober. I tried showering, journaling, meditating, working on the 12 steps, talking to my sponsor and support system, calling a crisis line 3 times last night, distracting myself, all of the AA sayings (take it one day at a time), going to AA meetings, etc and nothing stopped me from drinking. I literally almost started crying in Walmart today because I was trying so hard to walk out of the store to not buy alcohol but I did it anyways, that’s how much I’m struggling with this.
I’m not suicidal because I believe god will not let me die at this point, but I have had a lot of prior suicide attempts and I feel hopeless and shame over the whole situation.
I feel like I’m spiraling. I’m trying to sign up for a mental health and co-occurring PHP currently and will get a decision on it Wednesday. But, I’m wondering when I would need alcohol detox vs just PHP since I’ve never sought detox for alcohol. As for withdrawal symptoms, they are minor. Anxiety, hands shake very little, and my resting heart rate is around 118 instead of my normal 95 when I’m not drunk (it’s closer to 125-130 when I drink). I have never had a hangover so that’s not a symptom. The internet isn’t super clear on the threshold between just doing PHP vs needing psychiatric inpatient for detox. The place I’m requesting PHP from said at a minimum I would need to be drinking heavily like I am for 72 hours and/or I can’t stay sober for PHP once that’s set up for me in order to qualify for detox. Is this accurate?
The second thing is I see my psychiatrist tomorrow. However, I’m worried I’m gonna show up to it under the influence (not extremely but noticeable from my emotions and how I talk). I know for therapy that if you show up intoxicated the therapist ends the session and you go home. Is it the same with a psychiatrist appointment? If so, would I just call that morning to cancel the appointment, explain the situation, and follow my psychiatrist’s recommendation from there? I don’t drive, but I would hate to take the bus all the way there only to be told I need to go home 2 minutes later.
I feel lost and I just want to make the best choice for myself (as much as I really don’t want to go back into psychiatric inpatient). Even though I’m using, I really don’t want to and I’m trying my hardest not to drink and I just can’t stop. Please don’t judge. Any advice is appreciated.

TLDR: Is it possible I have a Functional Neurological Disorder and not a Sleep Disorder?
I have always been sleepy since 13, but didn't get life impacting until March of last year when my mother was diagnosed with ALS. It was like a switch went off and now its highly impacting my life. I can still work my full time job from home, drive, and do some other stuff but mostly I just want to sleep. I had a negative MSLT (16 min sleep latency) in August of last year and have seen a variety of specialists at University of Pennsylvania and Jefferson in Philly (Go Birds).My Jefferson doctor said it is highly unlikely that I have narcolepsy, but never-the-less it is possible.I am getting another MSLT in a week. I know they can have false negatives, but my doctor said that is mostly in the 9-12 min range. Although, again, he did say its possible that my mind is so active that I can't cash in on my sleepiness but if I had true Narcolepsy It wouldn't matter, my brain would force me to sleep. I have seen that sentiment echoed here.I have had a RANGE of blood workups including MRI, Catscan, full CBC/TSH/Heavy metals.etccOther than stimulants, which do help, the only other thing that helped was Zyprexa. At one point I didn't nap for two weeks and didn't really feel the need to. My doctor said it was telling that the psych meds helped more than the IH/N meds.
​
Anyway here are my symptoms (and yes I am extremely depressed about my mom with ALS and worn-out from being a caregiver)
-can sleep long times 9-12 hours
-Have a history of long sleep times
-constant sleep inertia
-EDS
-constant fatgue-brain fog
Dexedrine seems to help most with these symptoms, followed by Concerta XR, Qelbree and Sunosi. I was even tried on Xywav but couldn't tolerate some dangerous side effects.
I am curious, if my MSLT comes back as something similar 15/16/17/18 min sleep latency. Should I move on to other causes? I feel a little gaslit by friends, family, and doctors that this is all mental. But never the less it could be as I have a history of conversion disorders, health anxiety, and doctor
shopping.
PSG: https://drive.google.com/open?id=17d3pY-nc1Ws8q715XRYcBtRceZkeSvnL&usp=drive_fs
MSLT: https://drive.google.com/open?id=17f-oRI2k98gSfAb6e0nEczR0jQw2AlNu&usp=drive_fs

Chapter 1
Camila
I cursed under my breath when my car suddenly stopped in the most dangerous place in L.A.
I was in the middle of the road in a popular neighborhood where the enemy held a stronghold. They must not know a girl like me was stuck here — a lady carrying drugs worth hundreds of thousands in the trunk of her car.
I began to hit the steering with my fist and stared at the front of the car as if I would understand the problem by looking hard. Then, I sighed again. This was indeed a terrible situation. But I had learned not to panic in dire circumstances like this. All I needed was an idea of what I should do and do it fast.
I picked up my phone from the holder and dialed Lucio's line. It rang and rang, but he didn't answer. That was Don, the man who sent me on this mission. He was a busy man and wouldn't answer random calls unless it had to do with successful delivery.
But I was in danger, and he could lose me and the goods in the car.
I looked out of the window to have a clear view of my location. The Gerrard Lorenzo cartel dominated these areas. I would be skinned alive and fed to the dogs if they knew I was one of Lucio's girls.
I removed the key from the ignition and tried again, but the car only stuttered for a few seconds and stopped. My heart had begun to beat fast and repeatedly. The time was getting late, and I began to imagine wild and dangerous stories — of assaults and girls who lost many things or their lives for being the mafia moll for a cartel. What would happen if a swarm of boys (drug dealers) came around and found out I was that girl?
I was the girl who pushed drugs for Lucio — the Spanish guy who terrorized them, the enemies, with his ways.
I picked up my phone and dialed his line again. He had told me to move the drugs to those who would sell them in Beverly Hills and return home as soon as possible. My job was to be fast and carry the money home without hassle. The phone rang for a few minutes, and I said to myself, “Please, Lucio, pick up, pick up,” many times.
He didn't pick up the call, though, and my anxiety multiplied.
I looked out the window to my left and saw a four-story building. I could not step down and ask for help, and I dared not leave the car alone to look for help. I couldn't open the trunk for any stranger because of the bags in the trunk. There were four of them, and all of them were fully stacked. This was my job, using my beauty as a tool to drive safely through the street and handling drugs for those who paid for it.
Trying to start the car again, I said a little wish as I turned the ignition. It stuttered like it did before and stopped. I needed to update Lucio pretty fast. I had been on the road many times and on long journeys, and I knew when it wasn't safe.
I heard a car coming along, so I pulled out my pistol from my pants. I had rarely fired a gun except some years ago when I was made to punish a guy who tried to assault me. Lucio made me do it.
The car drove past without care that another vehicle was parked and the occupant was a young woman.
I put my pistol back in my pants and tried to start the engine again. For the hundredth time, it failed to start. The only option was to call for help, the fastest I could get. So, I picked up my phone and called the only person I knew could answer on time. David. He was one of the soldiers and lived some hours away from here. He had helped many times like this. Sometimes, he would send a boy to come around, and sometimes, he would go around himself and bail me out. Not usually in cases of stuck cars, but those involving police and street fights. He had been the guy.
I called him thrice and listened to the phone ring each time, but he didn't answer. My hands began to shake as I put the phone down. The night would get late, and when it came to moving drugs, this amount of drugs, I should have a way to protect myself in case anything went wrong. The night, too, was my best bet.
I pulled out the gun again and stepped out of the car. First, I put it closer to my left hand and stood outside the vehicle. Then, I opened the hood, trying to see if there was something I could touch that would miraculously save the day. Then, I would run the errands, return to my place, and text Lucio I had delivered the package. Once my job was done, I would get paid.
Nothing made sense under the car hood. They were just metals and bolts and wires.
I heard footsteps coming along the road and looked up toward the place. They were boys, and you could tell they had been drinking from the slurry words they threw around to how they laughed like they were being paid extra if they could sound a little louder than the person beside them.
I was fucked. They were five in number, and my mind went to the last time I had a moment like this. If Lucio hadn't intervened, three boys could have assaulted me ten years ago. That was the beginning of our relationship.
I put my hand on my waist and grabbed the gun's handle. I wouldn't pull it out if they didn't do anything stupid. But if they did, so help me, God, they would be dead in a minute.
"Ma'am, do you need help?" I heard the voice from a distance. Before I could turn my head, two boys were beside me, looking down at the inside of the car. "Try to start the car, ma'am," one said.
I rushed to the driver’s seat and tried to start the engine. The boys told me to stop, and they began to do a few things. They were probably college students returning from a party? I couldn't figure out what they were doing with the car. All I knew was I would be happy if they could start the engine.
The engine started. They worked on it for a few minutes, and it made a blaring sound and started. I almost jumped for joy. Then, I got out of the car.
"Thank you so much," I said.
"If you have booze in the car, we will appreciate it," one of them, who had done nothing with the car, said.
"I don't have booze, but I've got this," I said, bringing out five hundred dollar notes. I handed them the cash, and they thanked me. Then, they walked away in the other direction.
I started my car and drove toward Beverly Hills, where I would deliver the drugs.
The road was quiet because it was in the dead of the night. I was a little late to deliver the drugs, but this usually happens. Sometimes, you get to where you want to go on time. Sometimes, you must take a different route because you got tipped that the cops were on the way. The bags of drugs were stacked with some bar soap, too. It had never helped during the search, but I had never been stopped and searched for the past two years I worked for Lucio.
I arrived at my destination some hours later and drove into the compound. There was the usual flirting with the guys. Then, they took the bags out of the vehicle. The drugs were tested, and I was allowed to go. I texted Don instantly. This time, he read the text but didn't reply.
Soon, I was on the raid again, like the driver that I was. One delivery in the middle of the night, and I had been paid more than I could earn as a bartender. I could have stopped working at the bar, but Don owned the place and needed me there. He trusted me with his affairs and business. We could get married in the future when he was ready, but I was sure that was a big lie.
I was close to the road that led to my house when I saw a car behind me. I saw the light flashing before my eyes. I tried to keep it off, but it followed like a parasite would follow its host. This was a chase, and driving was one of my favorite hobbies besides dancing on the pole. Stripping was my job some years back.
So, I hoped the car wouldn't fail me again as I began to speed. This was the road between Beverly Hill and San Diego., and it was dark and lonely.
Eventually, my car failed me and pulled over when I needed it to start moving fast. I held my pistol and looked at the inner mirror.It was too late to fight, and it was time to accept defeat. Holy Mary, forgive my sins, I said. Damn, I had forgotten how to pray the rosary or anything related to the church.
I put my gun down and waited.
Then, someone corked a gun from a dark distance. Footsteps began approaching, and I shut my eyes and raised my hand. This was probably a message for our Don, for something he had done wrong or had been doing. A gun was pointed at me through the side window, and I looked up to see it.
More tears pushed out of my eyes, and I shut them tighter like I was ready for a final call. Then, the sound of a gunshot followed. I was not the one who fell, but the man standing by the car door.
I looked around the area and saw a man coming along. He corked his gun again, and the vehicle behind started, and a few gunshot exchanges followed.
I didn't know what to do, but sitting and screaming didn't help. So, I lay down in the car and stifled my screams by biting my lips hard.
Some minutes passed, and everything died down. I got up slowly and looked out of the side mirror and at the road. Two men were on the floor, the one who had tried to shoot me and another man who had appeared like an angel and shot at the first man.
One was dead, and the other was bleeding out by the side of his arm. At first, I wanted to drive off. This was what Lucio would have wanted me to do. He would like it if I had run for my life. But if this other man had not risked his life as he did, it would be my body lying dead now and not his.
I opened the door of the car and looked at the man. He was still breathing but on the floor, almost dead.
"Hello, sir," I asked.
He didn't answer, but I noticed he tried to move or lift his hands up.
So, I ran closer to him.
"Sir, I can get help," I said.
He shook his head. He got on his feet as if he had not been shot or bleeding badly. He stared at me like he was not there, just a moving body without life. A ghost. "You should get out of here. They will come back for his body," he said. Then, he began to walk down the road. He only took a few steps when he crashed on the floor and collapsed completely.
I rushed towards him and noticed he had passed out. If I could get him home, I could get him some help. So, I began to drag his body toward his car.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C41F6W2W

Statistically speaking, I know you have to be out there somewhere. Trouble is, I highly doubt you're looking for me. Maybe because you don't believe that I exist. Maybe because it's just too much effort, and you think the apps are lame or physically painful to slog through. Which, you know, is fair. But maybe one day you'll get bored and scroll through here on a whim... and maybe, just maybe, you'll realize that I'm talking to you. This is not a post directed at most people. I wish everyone all the best in finding whatever it is they're looking for on here -- a life partner, love (however fleeting), companionship, distraction. But I'm not posting here for those things. I'm posting on the off chance that you see this. So if all of the following resonates with you, message me. You are perfectly capable of coming across as a well-adjusted, highly sociable person who enjoys playful banter and delighting in the absurd. You aren't an anxious person (typically) to the point where it impacts your daily life. You are always kind to others, even when stressed or having a bad day. But as the years tick by, you find yourself making excuses to spend more time alone (or the urge to do so has started tugging on your mind), because the truth is that most people bore you. You are smart, but not a "nerd". You are fascinated by how things work. You listen to podcasts or audiobooks, and love the idea of doing this with a partner -- to learn together, to challenge each other to think about things in a new way. You'd happily spend Friday evenings curled up inside a magnificent blanket fort, excitedly talking about some cool new neuroscience research that just came out, or the latest awesome (ly terrifying) thing someone did with AI, or trying to work out why humans human. If you play video games you only do so infrequently, or as a way to socialize with a friend. You are not a "gamer". You don't follow any sports religiously, and think it's ridiculous to schedule your life (and emotional state 😂) around commercialized "teams". You are ambitious about your career, but also realize that career isn't everything. You are on the taller side, and are either athletic(-ish) or working toward being in decent shape. I'm 5'8 & 140 lbs, with a fun body dysmorphia complex that makes me think I'm significantly larger than I am (rawr! 😉). Of course there's more to a partnership than looks, but physical intimacy is extremely important too and you can't force attraction. That being said, there are plenty of things that don't phase me one bit. Stretch marks? Bring 'em on. Acne? Don't care. A little extra weight around the middle? Great. I'm not looking for perfection. Imperfections can be se*xy af. You are pro meow. Being in nature is your happy place, and you get a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest when you think about living out in the woods somewhere away from all the other monkeys (even if the reality of a life without same-day grocery delivery is unconscionable). You could see yourself working remotely (either now or as an actionable goal). You love the idea of spending your evenings/weekends at home, listening to podcasts while working on DIY projects with your partner, or having cozy reading time, or tinkering silly inventions into being, or writing songs/making music together, or running around in the woods remembering what it felt like to see the world through a lens of childlike wonder. Your humor leans witty/sarcastic/dry, with a slight dark & creepy twist. (But there is a line, and certain things like cruelty to animals you don't find funny at all). And though the occasional pun / dad joke might draw out a reluctant smirk, they're definitely not your thing.

The first dentist to tell me this got accused of spreading propaganda (I cringe). The second dentist got fact checked by my psychologist with access to Google scholar. I went home from that appointment crying, because it's true. The gum disease I have has now been directly linked to smoking weed, twice, by two different dentists in different cities.
I started when I was 17, I'm now 33. Going on from that post titled there's nothing cool about being a 40 year old pothead, there's nothing cool about being 33 and having the mouth of a 50 year old. I'm 33 and for the rest of my life if I don't attend hygienist appointments, it'll exacerbate to needing a periodontist, and if I don't attend that then I'll lose all my teeth.
Not because of sugar. Not because of lack of brushing my teeth. Not because of genetics. Because I've been a stoner for over half my life. Cannabis might not be a hard drug, but it's not harmless and I wish more people would be willing to talk about it.

I’m having my 1 year old botched filled corrected by an oculoplastic surgeon, he will use Hyaluronidase.
What to expect beside temporary burning/pain? How to prevent my facial skin to be permanently destroyed and disfigured by this molecule?
I’m freaking scared but I’m so botched that I see no way out

I have always love decorating houses in video games. Even in primarily action/adventure games, if there is an option to hoard items and place them around my house, I will spend hours doing it. So I cannot tell you how much I miss those jelly and asparagus walls, the wacky furniture, shopping around all over neopia for a tooth shaped oven or a coconut bathtub. I've been on Neopets for 15+ years and have spent so much time designing both versions of the neohomes. I haven't been that active on the site recently, but I found an old notebook from when I was 9 or so, which had a color-coded blueprint of my classic neohome layout, and it reminded me Man, I had SO much fun creating themed rooms and exploring other people's designs, and now I can't even look at what I've made to reminisce :(
The only plus side for the feature being down is that my new neohome had a bug where 2 walls were missing, so hopefully that will be fixed if they ever go live again!!!

My sister Clara (25F) and I (23F) both naturally have really nice, thick, dark wavy/curly hair (3A-ish). My mom kept both of our hair in its natural state when we were young; I continued this when I got old enough to do my own hair but since she was 14, Clara wanted to experiment with colors, textures, cuts, etc. She's had a lot of really cool styles over the years but her hair has definitely been damaged from it.
People often comment on my hair because it's really long at this point and if my sister is present, she'll usually say something like "OP got all the good hair genes". She'll complain to me in private that it's "unfair" that my hair still curls up nicely and "she wishes she could get her hair to do that"
It didn't used to bother me but she says it so often now and I'm so sick of hearing it. It's not genes. It's not luck. If you wanna bleach your hair every time you see a root and raw dog it with a straightener every day, then that's your business and you're free to do it but it's not some mystery that your hair isn't in peak condition afterwards. just bffr. please. we have the same hair. It's just frustrating when she plays dumb about it.
Our cousin had a BBQ this weekend and my sister and I both went. Someone said something about my hair and Clara interjected into the conversation to do the "good genes" thing again and I got irritated and told her to stop it, it's not about genes, choose whatever you want to do but just own your choices.
she got flustered and went inside and a lot of people were really cold to me after. my cousin texted me today and told me that just because i'm right doesn't mean i'm not a twat so AITA?

Statistically speaking, I know you have to be out there somewhere. Trouble is, I highly doubt you're looking for me. Maybe because you don't believe that I exist. Maybe because it's just too much effort, and you think the apps are lame or physically painful to slog through. Which, you know, is fair. But maybe one day you'll get bored and scroll through here on a whim... and maybe, just maybe, you'll realize that I'm talking to you. This is not a post directed at most people. I wish everyone all the best in finding whatever it is they're looking for on here -- a life partner, love (however fleeting), companionship, distraction. But I'm not posting here for those things. I'm posting on the off chance that you see this. So if all of the following resonates with you, message me. You are perfectly capable of coming across as a well-adjusted, highly sociable person who enjoys playful banter and delighting in the absurd. You aren't an anxious person (typically) to the point where it impacts your daily life. You are always kind to others, even when stressed or having a bad day. But as the years tick by, you find yourself making excuses to spend more time alone (or the urge to do so has started tugging on your mind), because the truth is that most people bore you. You are smart, but not a "nerd". You are fascinated by how things work. You listen to podcasts or audiobooks, and love the idea of doing this with a partner -- to learn together, to challenge each other to think about things in a new way. You'd happily spend Friday evenings curled up inside a magnificent blanket fort, excitedly talking about some cool new neuroscience research that just came out, or the latest awesome (ly terrifying) thing someone did with AI, or trying to work out why humans human. If you play video games you only do so infrequently, or as a way to socialize with a friend. You are not a "gamer". You don't follow any sports religiously, and think it's ridiculous to schedule your life (and emotional state 😂) around commercialized "teams". You are ambitious about your career, but also realize that career isn't everything. You are on the taller side, and are either athletic(-ish) or working toward being in decent shape. I'm 5'8 & 140 lbs, with a fun body dysmorphia complex that makes me think I'm significantly larger than I am (rawr! 😉). Of course there's more to a partnership than looks, but physical intimacy is extremely important too and you can't force attraction. That being said, there are plenty of things that don't phase me one bit. Stretch marks? Bring 'em on. Acne? Don't care. A little extra weight around the middle? Great. I'm not looking for perfection. Imperfections can be se*xy af. You are pro meow. Being in nature is your happy place, and you get a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest when you think about living out in the woods somewhere away from all the other monkeys (even if the reality of a life without same-day grocery delivery is unconscionable). You could see yourself working remotely (either now or as an actionable goal). You love the idea of spending your evenings/weekends at home, listening to podcasts while working on DIY projects with your partner, or having cozy reading time, or tinkering silly inventions into being, or writing songs/making music together, or running around in the woods remembering what it felt like to see the world through a lens of childlike wonder. Your humor leans witty/sarcastic/dry, with a slight dark & creepy twist. (But there is a line, and certain things like cruelty to animals you don't find funny at all). And though the occasional pun / dad joke might draw out a reluctant smirk, they're definitely not your thing.

For some context, I am 18 and was diagnosed as autistic about 4 months ago at age 17, so not everyone in my life knows yet. I have really only told my dad (who took me to get diagnosed and is my only parent) and a few of my very close friends. There are some friends who I feel conflicted about telling.
Growing up I became good friends with four other autistic kids, three being my same age and one being about two years younger than me. They were all diagnosed before starting elementary school or very early in elementary school. I am still good friends with three of them. I have only told one of them about my diagnosis because he is the one who suggested I go get tested. The longer I wait the guiltier I feel for not telling the other two, but I also kind of don’t want to. My younger (16) friend’s parents tend to treat her autism as a bad thing, criticizing her special interests and assuming that no one would want to spend time with her without being paid. They are trying to convince me to sign up to be her caretaker so I can get paid for hanging out with her. I feel that if I told her that I am also autistic it might end up with them having overly high expectations for her (I am relatively good at masking because of my late diagnosis).
My other (17) friend’s parents are autism speaks supporters (I think, they have a autism speaks magnet on their car but it’s old and they may not support them anymore), but they never treat her poorly, they just don’t quite understand what she goes through. They are super nice and her mom is always there for me, but I worry that they would view me differently if they found out.
If I tell my friends there is no chance they won’t tell their parents because they both love their parents and don’t really keep secrets. So I don’t know what to do.
Also, how do I tell my family? I don’t know how to go about telling my aunt and sister who I feel should probably know because I don’t plan on hiding it in the future and don’t want them to randomly find out from my Instagram posts.

After a really crappy job and immense budgeting I have about 35k saved up(took about 2 yearsish?). Im 25 and am starting a new job making slightly over 56k a year and I guess its time to be serious about my money, I have exactly 11k in federal student loans that ive never payed on because theyve been paused and there was all the talk about them potentially getting cancelled. Im wondering if its worth just paying them off outright and dumping the rest of the money into savings? My only big concern with that is my car is pretty old('06 with 150k miles) and while it doesnt currently have any serious issues I worry about it, however I have no monthly payment on it. Honestly all this money is currently in my checking, I have no savings account or investments so im pretty lost about where I should divide this money up. Ive got good credit and would like to buy a house in the next year or so, and I live with my girlfriend who makes around 46k and we split all our bills, biggest bill is rent and I pay about 630 a month, I just want to be able to retire one day and be involved in my hobbies while im still young and healthy.
Thanks in advance

It was at midnight exactly when everyone who was awake promptly passed out.
It wasn't an instant 'fall to the ground like a corpse' mass unconsciousness. It was just this sudden and intense state of exhaustion that made it impossible to stay awake.
Ours was a mining town, averaging around 70,000 population, and recently being hit by recession that made finding work a pain in the ass. And with the mine running dry, it was all we could do to keep afloat.
I was out for a stroll when the exhaustion hit, I was crossing the street when this oppressively heavy state of exhaustion just hit me. I panicked, of course, thinking that I was having a stroke or something, desperately trying to get to the other side of the crosswalk.
Then darkness.
It was the sunlight that woke me up, I squinted in the hellishly bright light and fumbled around for my sunglasses. Why I kept sunglasses on my person in the dead of night was because I was that kind of asshole who wanted to look cool. My mileage definitely varied on that front, but it was at least an attempt.
Still, when I managed to find them, confused as to why I was on hot asphalt, I put them on, only for them to immediately fall off. I was forced to open my eyes, and that's when I saw my hands.
At first, I thought it was the mother of all sunburns, being so bright red, but when the sound came out of my mouth, I knew something had gone terribly wrong. First and foremost, I was covered in bright red scales, I had these short, sharp claws at the end of my hands, on top of which my feet were utterly fucked up, and I had a tail.
I scrambled for my phone, wondering if it would even register my touch, Thankfully, it did.
You know those memes where someone takes a picture of an animal, and it looks really fucking funny? Guess whose first picture was like that. I turned on the camera, flipped the camera so I could see myself on the screen, and accidentally took a picture as my new snout filled the screen.
I tried to get up, but I realized that my clothes were too big, and that I had gone from a solid 6 feet and dropped to a measly three. Bear in mind, the average height of a person with dwarfism is a solid four, and I know this because I did an entire project on it in ninth grade.
I had no idea what the hell I was, if I was the only person like this, and I was forced to use my XL shirt to cover my otherwise naked body, tearing the shit out of it with my new feet claws, and being faced with the reality that being a three-foot lizard meant I had to crawl through my dog door.
Thankfully, Brutus didn't even seem phased, he just walked up to me, tail wagging, and very much wanting to be pet, which I did, very carefully. I needed something pure and wholesome in the world to keep me from going insane.
That was around six AM.
Now, googling 'Help, I've turned into a three foot lizard' didn't help at all, and I sure as shit didn't want to walk all of the way to my parent's house and potentially freak them out, but I did have my brother.
James is a furry, I'll just say it flat out. Like, an absolute turbo furry. It had taken me time to get used to the idea that he liked furry characters, and I knew a lot of the art he liked dealt with this kind of situation.
I was desperate, and I needed someone on my side. When I called him, it rang and then went to voicemail, and I proceeded to continuously call him, because he will eventually wake up. I got ready to call him again when a notification came up saying he wanted to FaceTime.
I braced myself for his inevitable squeeing when he saw I'd been transformed into a tiny little lizard.
I didn't expect him to be one as well.
Of course, he was the one who was fucking ecstatic, and it took me a lot of attempts to get him to listen to me, which he eventually did.
"Bro." I said, the words slipping out of my mouth weird. I had to carefully enunciate, moving a tongue that was completely alien to me inside of a mouth that didn't work the way I was used to. "What the thuck ith going on?" I asked. "Do you haff any idea what ith going on."
It was painful, really. Of course my brother spoke fluently. It didn't occur to me until he was halfway through his diatribe about TF triggers that I said, "Hey, wait, you're speaking another language." I paused. "I'm speaking another language!"
Like, it all translated into English for me, but we were very much speaking a language that was full of sibilants and yips, yaps, and naks.
"Oh, yeah. That's Yipyak." He said.
"What the fuck is a Yipyak, and if this is some sort of deez nuts joke, I'm going over there and clawing you."
So he explained that we were both Kobolds, creatures from Dungeons and Dragons, and our native language was Draconic, more specifically a pidgin language known as Yipyak.
"Alright, scholar of the Kobolds, what do we do about this situation, because people are going to freak out."
"Brother." He said. "There's no way in hell it's just us."
Part of me knew he was right, but I absolutely did not want to believe it.
Naturally, people gathered around the Town Hall.
The screaming started around eight AM, as people woke up to find themselves turned into Kobolds. Some of them were screaming in joy, others were as horrified as I was, but that wasn't the worst part.
Only half of us were Kobolds.
Mom and Dad picked us up, because they could reach the pedals. They were, of course, very concerned, but they helped us out because they loved us.
Most of the people who arrived who had been turned into Kobolds had to make due with shirts hiked up to their waists and tied off with a belt, the rest just stood around. Naked. There was one weirdo who just made a loincloth and was looking very proud of himself.
Weirdly enough, I actually kind of wanted one.
So, there we were, engaging in what was effectively a cultural exchange between the nerds and furries and the rest of us normal folk. Really, the only explanation as to how and why this happened was. "Fucked if we know, but it has knock-on implications for the rest of the universe."
The Humans- wow, that was a thought I just had, and not one I could just not have- The Humans were of course upset that this had happened and that our entire town was facing a crisis that we didn't know how to deal with.
But the furries had hypotheses.
First, the facts as we knew them. Exactly half of our population had been transformed. The only people who transformed were the D&D nerds and the furries, with the rest being directly related. The transformation only seemed to only effect family members in the same generation, which is why a husband and wife were Kobolds, but their kids weren't. Finally, there was nothing like this happening anywhere else in the world.
Therefore, the hypotheses were thus:
A. Some sort of wild magic surge triggered the transformation. And yes, magic was real because some of us could use it. Me included.
B. The D&D universe actually existed and was bleeding into reality. This excited the D&D players, because it meant they could go on an adventure.
C. There was a Dragon somewhere, maybe in the mine, and it wanted minions. Nobody liked this idea. Well, nobody said they liked it. I felt weirdly okay with it.
D. This was just Some Weird Shit, so let's just move on.
Naturally, someone leaked what happened, the government came, and, well, that's when we discovered that anyone entering the town limits had a roughly 50/50 chance of getting instantly turned into a Kobold. We also determined we could leave, but the way was blockaded because nobody wanted this to spread.
To the government's credit, they didn't take away our civil liberties to dissect us, they just showed up, brought scientists, and started trying to figure out what was going on.
The rest of us just had to adjust.
We couldn't really live in our own houses anymore, I mean, they're not even built for people with Dwarfism, it was even worse for us because we couldn't even reach the counter. So we just did the best we could. Some carpenters got together and started building houses that were proportional to our size. Kitchen appliances weren't going to be of any real help, so we just had to make due with houses that didn't have any electricity, but at least worked well with space heaters.
One of the best things about these houses was that they were quick to make and were easy to navigate. Some of the people built medieval-style housing, which I found myself increasingly attracted to as a place to live. Some of the D&D players were part of something called the Society of Creative Anachronism, and they hand made a lot of clothes that, for whatever reason, my stupid little Kobold brain liked, so here I was in a thatch-roofed house proportional to my size in medieval clothing that I could not fathom why I liked it.
In fact, I'm beginning to hate who I used to be.
The first sign that I was experiencing a dislike of my Human body was when I saw a picture of me and just got angry. Like, I smashed the frame against the floor and tore the thing to shreds before I got a hold of myself.
I catch myself only talking in Yipyak, and being annoyed when I have to switch to English. Not to mention, I've begun practicing magic. I can't explain how it works, I just know it works, it's helped me keep the place clean.
I know how to cast six of these spells, though, two of them exhaust me. The D&D nerds identified them as 'Prestidigitation, Mage Hand, Mending, Firebolt, Detect Magic, and Magic Missile.' Basically, the power do to a lot or really minor effects, the ability to create a magic hand that does whatever I want it to, the ability to fix some things, and the ability to throw fire at something- all at will. As well as the ability to see magic and the ability to throw magic at something that will always hit.
A lot of utility.
So with Detect Magic, I was able to determine that the town was surrounded in a cylindrical magic field, I actually took the time to help mark the border so people wouldn't accidentally become a Kobold. Other things I was able to figure out was that it was a '9th level' spell with Transmutation.
"Oh, that's Mass Polymorph! But that spell only effects ten creatures."
"Well, whatever it is, it's made a hell of a mess of things." I said.
Well, something came out of the mine earlier today, it was a giant fucking rat, and I used Magic Missile to kill it. I was halfway through skinning it when I realized I was skinning it, and that I had never skinned an animal before. I kept at it, and brought it to the warren.
The warren?
Yeah, that word fits.
I have these weird moments of self-awareness where I suddenly remember what life used to be like, and how much I had changed. How much the others changed. Some of them had changed their names , and I realized with a start that I didn't want my name anymore.
But there's another one that's just on the tip of my tongue.
Ruuk.
A Kobold came up to me, wanting some help with something. He said my old name and all I could say in response was, "My name is Ruuk."
He didn't even question it, and immediately started using it. I helped out with what he needed- he'd broken his hoe and needed it fixed, which I obliged.
It struck me, as we hit our first year of this, that I didn't want to go back to being a Human.

I've been seeing a lot of posts and comments on here and other Magrebi subs talking about how to "get out" of the country and live abroad. I grew up in a mixed household and had two Magrebi passports before I turned 18 and most people in my community have traveled, worked and some emigrated. Now I wanted to share what I have learned with this community in hopes of helping others who want to do the same.

Completing Secondary Education: The Journey Begins

When I completed my secondary education I became qualified to apply to America's Diversity Immigrant Visa Program which is by far the easiest way to emigrate. The application is free and you can reapply every year until you win. The only requirement is you have a passport and completed some form of post-secondary education.I was also attending University but I kept the necessary documents saved and placed an annual reminder on my calendar which told me reapply every year on October 5th when the application opens up. A few of my friends won while they were still completing their undergraduate degrees and transferred to American Universities. I had yet to win so I looked for more opportunities.

Graduating University: First Time Abroad

In my 4th year of University I began aggressively applying to jobs abroad. I applied to jobs all over the world but 90% of my applications were to positions in the Khaleej because they allow you to gain residency if you find employment and don't tax your income. This was important to me since my primary reason for seeking employment abroad was to make more money.From my experience the best platforms to apply for jobs are LinkedIn, Bayt.com and Stack Overflow if you're in tech. I eventually got a good job offer in the UAE and moved Dubai to start my new career. I opened a bank as soon as I had my National ID card so I wouldn't have to worry about the capital flight restrictions anymore.I also made the decision to live incredibly frugally because my goal was to pursue graduate studies in Canada (more on why later). I studied and took the TOFEL and IELTS exams since they are necessary for both education and immigration purposes. Meanwhile I kept applying to the American DV lottery since it would still be the fastest way to get permanent residency.

Graduate Studies: Moving to Canada

After about 2 years I had saved enough money to being studying in Canada. While education in Canada is not as expensive as the United States it is still very expensive so knowing where to apply is very important. From my research the following Universities offer the best tuition rates for international students:

1. Memorial University of Newfoundland
2. University of Manitoba
3. University of Regina
4. Simon Fraser University
5. University of Saskatchewan
6. University of Calgary
7. Dalhousie University

In addition to the low tuition costs they are also located in inexpensive cities which is as important.The reason I choose Canada as my destination for graduate studies is because after you complete a Master's degree in Canada, you are eligible for a Post-Graduation Work Permit (PGWP) which allows you to work in Canada for a duration equivalent to the length of your program (3 years max).I enrolled in my two year graduate program and began my graduate studies in Canada. I made sure to network during this time and attended every career fair regardless if it was for undergraduate student or graduate students. I kept my CV up to date and used LinkedIn strategically to network with hiring managers. Meanwhile I continued to apply to the American DV lottery.

Finishing Master Degree: Gaining PR in Canada

After graduating from my Master program I found a job and applied for the PGWP so I could remain in Canada. After a year of working in Canada I became eligible to gain permanent residency (PR) via the Canadian Experience Class (CEC) immigration program.The CEC makes it very easy for educated and skilled foreigners to gain PR in Canada. It's a point based program so the more "qualified" you are the easier it is for you to gain PR. There are many nuances to the Canadian Experience Class (CEC) but here are the main things the program looks for:

• Work Experience (Canadian experience preferred)
• Language Proficiency (IELTS scores)
• Education (Canadian education preferred)
• Age (Younger people preferred)

In general if you completed your education in Canada and worked in Canada then you are a very strong candidate for Canadian residency. This was my case so I gained permanent residency after being on a PGWP for about two years. I continued to apply to the American DV lottery the whole time.

Becoming Canadian Citizen: First Foreign Passport

After living in Canada for three years I became eligible to apply for Canadian citizenship. I gathered the necessary documents, completed Form CIT 0002 and paid the application fees. Later I completed a citizenship test which tests your knowledge of Canada's history, values, institutions, rights etc.. After passing the test I attended a Citizenship Ceremony and received my Certificate of Canadian Citizenship which allowed me to get my Canadian passport. By this time I had lived in Canada for 6 years and thought I would have lived here the rest of my life but something interesting happened: I won American DV lottery.

Moving To America: The Journey Continues

I had kept applying the the American DV lottery because I saw it as a form of insurance in case one of my applications was denied or if my immigration to Canada ran into issues. I was ready to stop since I finally had my Canadian citizenship but on May 6th I received notification that I won the DV lottery.Since I work in tech I feel the United States will be a better place for me to work and many of my Canadian colleagues had already move to the United States for higher paying jobs. I wasn't interested in going through the H1-B visa to PR process but now that I can skip ahead to the PR I'm going to go for it. I submitted all the necessary documents and once I have my Green Card I'll being applying to jobs in the United States. I'm really excited to see what the future has in store for me!

Final Thoughts

Like I said from the start my goal was to write about my journey to help people on here learn more about what opportunities are out there and show it's no that hard to "get out" if you really want. I would say my main takeaways are the following:

• Be Persistent. It took 6 years for me to gain my Canadian citizenship and 12 years to win the American DV lottery. If you aren't ready to keep trying then you shouldn't bother starting.
• Pursue Multiple Paths. If you want to go abroad you need to pursue multiple options at once because you never know which one will work out. Look for education opportunities, work opportunities and other opportunities like the American DV lottery.
• Education is King. The more educated you are the easier it is to move abroad. Completing your secondary education allows you to apply for the American DV lottery. The TOFEL and IELTS are necessary for graduate studies and PR applications. Canada's point based system favors more educated and skilled people so you will always have a way into Canada if you're educated and skilled.

If anyone would like more information I am happy to answer question and provide more information about my journey. I have tried to give as much information as possible while still maintaining some privacy so forgive me if I have been too cryptic. I hope this post helps!