Hi guys! I was recently hired with a bunch of other colleagues around 6 weeks ago to a unnamed call center. Everything was fine and dandy after our training and settling in was quite well until the second batch of hires merged in with us. As they had trained separately, they had created their own clique amongst each other, understandably as the team I was hired in had done so as well. Also to mention, my colleagues and I have a separate higher up than the second batch as they work with a different client field but we do share the same space and amenities. Around a week ago, everyone from the new hires to our superiors had noticed a reoccurring issue concerning with our shared bathroom. The women’s bathroom seemed to become rather disgusting by the end of every day and this was a major problem as our company only has one janitor for all six floors including ours. With this being said, my teams higher up made a public announcement for everyone to hear concerning this issue. Apparently two out of three stalls were clogged up and the third stall seem to have a urine trail on the seat as well as makeup, hair, and food being found on the floor and sink areas. We were told to “make sure we wipe our seats after use”, “make sure to throw away any trash you may have“, and overall clean up after ourselves. Everyone of course understood these guidelines and we continued on with our day. By day three, we were still experiencing the same issues. This is where the bigger issue arose. Apparently, while my team and I were on our collective lunch break, our higher up spoke with the separate department team and set up a plan to figure out who is messing up our bathroom. Apparently my teams higher up was starting to think that a person from my team was causing this issue. The other team was told that if they seen someone from my team get up to use the bathroom, to follow suit and after that person was done using it, to comb through and see if they disheveled the bathroom. Another week goes by with this plan set in stone and by Wednesday, my colleagues and I were noticing an extremely high volume of bathroom use and slightly weird behavior so we asked one of the other team’s member what was going on. Shout out to him as he basically unfolded what was discussed. Our team was appalled but as appalled as they were, I noticed that nothing was said. Come Thursday, everything seem to have been forgotten but I did not forget. Am I overreacting for wanting to report the department excluding my colleagues for hatching up this plan? I’m not one to report to HR and frankly I wouldn’t even know how to go about it but something about this situation seems extremely wrong and an invasion of privacy to an extent. What should I do?

This is not intended to sound facetious; I genuinely do not understand why they are so supportive of Palestine. Nevermind Israel vs Palestine for a second. I've followed Propagandhi's music (and of course social and political stances) for 20 years and it seems to me like Palestine qualifies for nearly every injustice that Propagandhi have ever rallied against.
There was an image floating around on twitter of a group of American protestors holding a giant rainbow flag with "Gays for Palestine" painted on it. How clueless can people be? Palestine is one of the most staunchly anti LGBT countries (states) on the planet, with exposure of homosexual acts often resulting in years of imprisonment, if not rogue murder by Hamas.
Palestine is one of the most staunchly anti-women's rights countries (states) on the planet. Women in Palestine cannot even wear bathing suits. They certainly can't have abortions. I would urge anyone to read the laundry list of thinga women either aren't allowed to do or are forced to do in Palestine.
Yunus al-Astal, a chief legislator of Hamas stated, publicly, that "suffering by fire is the Jews' destiny in this world and the next, therefore we are sure that the Holocaust is still to come upon the Jews." Gee, sounds like something the Nazis would have said. Aren't Propagandhi anti Nazi?
If a group of abortion hating, frat daddy loving, evangelical baptists in Tennessee were being bombed into oblivion, I would expect Propagandhi to celebrate this as long-deserved retribution. Or at best I'd expect them to not say anything at all. I understand Propagandhi's general stance of being broadly anti-war, but of all the groups to vocally defend and rally awareness and sympathy for, to me, I don't see how Palestine qualifies for Propagandhi's sympathy any more than the KKK would. What am I missing?

I (25F) have 3 cultural dresses. My dad bought me these from our home country over the years. He got me 2 in the last year. My cousin (15F) asked to borrow one for a wedding. I told her to go to my parents house (she lives 15 minutes away) and try them on to see what she likes.
However, I'm also attending a wedding this summer and will be wearing one of them. Since I live in a neighbouring country, my sister will bring the one I want for me when she visits soon.
I want to change my mind about lending my cousin the dress because the wedding she's attending is in our home country. She'll be staying there for at least a month. The dress she wants is new and I haven't worn it yet. I'm a bit worried that when I do wear it, it won't feel the same and won't be new. Our home country is hot and she most likely will sweat in it. I also can't just pop it in the wash.
Her parents aren't broke or anything so I'm sure they are able to buy her one there. But I don't think it's my place to tell her to ask them. I feel bad since she's my younger cousin.
WIBTA if I change my mind or if I ask her to wear the oldest dress?. I've had it for a few years and it's been worn once. But it's still in great condition and might look better on her since it'll suit someone younger anyway.

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Hail, dear phantom, I’m glad to see you again. True to my word I went back to the Undead Burg to visit the familiar residents and see if I couldn’t put some of my keys to use. Ultimately, of course, I was after the Bell of Awakening. I believe the Crestfallen Warrior mentioned one being beneath the Undead Burg, so that was what I aimed to uncover.
Instead, I found new threats and an entity that whittled my resilience down to its bare foundation.
My keys brought me to some peculiar locations. I remembered well two locked doors, one in both of the turrets that interrupt the grand wall surrounding the city. In the tower that I passed through to confront the Taurus Demon, is a door that once unlocked brings you further down.
To my surprise, at the bottom of those spiral stone steps, awaited a brute of a warrior. Donned head to toe in armor most robust, wielding a shield that he was able to comfortably hide behind and an even larger club. My initial impression was one of awe, truth be told. He appeared as though he could crush me with his thoughts alone!
As it turned out, it would be his weight and lumber that would work to my advantage. Merely a roll to the side gave me ample opportunity to launch a Soul Arrow his way, something he scarcely had the choice to avoid. So robust was he, however, that I ran out of spell slots before he fell, a very rare feat. Although my Estoc was useless against his impervious armor, some well-placed back stabs put him in the ground for good.
I was fortunate to not suffer a scratch, as I reckon that’s all it would have taken. I pilfered a ring from his corpse, to reveal his name: Havel.
Beyond Havel was a door, one that, to my sheer astonishment, led to the Darkroot Basin. The extent of the Darkroot forest was one I hadn’t anticipated. I thought I had put the verdant murk behind me for a while. And after stepping foot into the green mire and seeing beings composed purely of crystal - I turned the other way. With no spell slots and no bravery, I fled to return another time. Besides, I still had another key I wished to operate.
I decided to unlock the next door and uncover what was beyond before returning to the safety of the Bonfire. I must be growing more audacious. The next door was found just before where the large drake positioned itself, on the second turret.
Before me sprawled another descent, and I found myself in the rotten depths of the Undead Burg before long. Viscous dogs roamed the ruined streets. The path I picked first took me to a door of iron bars that led me back to a familiar spot in the Undead Burg - a location right next to the Bonfire. A very sweet relief.
It was there I readied myself for the dive into the lower Undead Burg. I imagined a sprawling street ripe with rotten ruin. And although that’s what I met, the path was very linear. After I bested an ambush of thieves and roaming dogs, I heard the cries of someone trapped.
I couldn’t believe my luck when I uncovered a fellow sorcerer! Trapped in the depths of that cesspit, of all places. We wore almost the same attire, and he said he would return to Firelink Shrine. Perhaps I was a little too eagre in our greeting, but he would sell me his sorceries all the same when I met him again.
I noticed white light blocking a small arch, and knew something foul stirred within. Before stepping foot through, I wished to uncover the rest of the streets, and my exploration took me to alleys and gutters. After dispatching more thieves, I climbed up another turret that rejoined to the filthy aqueduct that led to Firelink Shrine - just in time to meet my fellow sorcerer once more.
Finally in my wretched journey could I learn more spells. Spells that would serve me extremely well. I purchased the Heavy Soul Arrow and Magic Weapon, to elevate my abilities considerably.
With renewed fervor, I struck down the local ambling Undead with such aggression and power that I shocked myself. None would stand in my way, now, I thought to myself.
I was quickly humbled, dear phantom, when I returned to the lower Undead Burg and traversed through the white light to stand face to face with the abhorrent Capra Demon. Before I had fully stepped out of the white light, its grotesque form was already upon me. If I had moved a split second later, I would have been crushed beneath both its behemoth blades.
Despite my haste, I was not out of danger, for two dogs were quick to rip me to shreds.
Never have I been slain so quickly!
And so I ran again. Up the hill, through the aqueduct, down the spire, through the alley, and up the stairs, only to be greeted by more savage dogs. I was ripped asunder in my careless advance.
Again and again did I make that journey. If I weren’t torn apart by the guarding hounds, then I was swiftly executed by the Capra Demon and its infernal pets. So many times did I make that trip that I was almost driven to madness. Never has wrathful rage stirred so violently in me.
It was those dogs. They were the bane of my attempts to slay the Capra Demon. Too easily they penetrated my cloth garbs; with each bite I couldn’t help but recoil and cry out. Perhaps I was relying on the safety that distance brought me with my sorceries. And so I thought to seek the safety of steel, for once.
As unfamiliar am I with wearing suits of armor, any sort of piece I donned slowed me down dramatically. Nothing more Soul sacrifices to the Bonfire couldn’t remedy, however.
I’ll save you the tale of my time in Darkroot Garden slaying for Souls, although I did notice an unfamiliar sign, written by a fellow phantom. It advised me to strike the tree down in front of it, and to my surprise, the tree soon fell, revealing a long untouched expanse.
In this hidden nook of the solitary garden, resided more of those slumbering stone giants, and a slew of strange amphibian creatures with reptilian features. They fell easy enough, although their long, sharp tongues struck me some times.
At the end of this secluded space was another fortification. I couldn’t believe my luck as I found a discarded Wolf Ring. The moment I slotted it onto my finger I could feel my robustness harden. It was then I had the idea to utilize the ring found on Havel’s body, and I felt my person grow stronger. My punches didn’t hit any harder, but my body could lift things before I sweat to look at.
With these enhancements, I was able to don better armaments and still move as swiftly as I did with my sorcerer garbs.
With the helm of a Bell Gargoyle and the shoddy armor ripped from a hollow, I was ready to face the Capra Demon and its hounds. No bite shall affect me so viscerally, now, thanks to my rings.
I stepped into the white light and immediately rolled past the demon’s lunge. Although the dogs were at my heels in an instant, their clamping maws didn’t cause me to pause. With my Estoc enhanced with magic, I was able to end their miserable existence upon the stairs.
Without his hounds, the Capra Demon wasn’t such a challenge, especially as my Heavy Soul Arrows punctured deep into his ruinous hide. It wasn’t long, then, before it fell, and yet another key came into my clutches.
My victory over the Capra Demon wasn’t nearly as jubilant an occasion as I suspected, although I didn’t kill it for the thrill of the hunt.
With the key in my withered hands, I headed back into the alley and opened the door, to peer into the Depths.
I was wrong to suspect a Bonfire close by, and in exploring the dank depths, I found a quick end at the hands of a swallowing and oozing creature, something I could scarcely see before I found myself back at Firelink Shrine, here to meet you.
I shall tell you more of my adventure into the Depths another time, should you care to listen. I have prattled on long enough, have I not?
Godspeed, good phantom.

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Ceele strolled through the damp grass along the outskirts of the village, a spring in her step and the dwindling scent of dew following behind. It rained yesterday, which had prevented her from going out to gather supplies, but the mild morning air had been accommodating enough for her to get an early start and make the trip. She was glad she did.
One hand clutched her new prize to her chest, while the other held a fraying wicker basket filled with herbs and some edible roots she gathered by exploring the forbidden forest. Despite her reservations regarding where she chose to go, her excitement now lingered like a steady thrum of shifting stones, giving her energy that defied how long she had been walking. She all but pranced beneath the burgeoning night's sky, gleefully toeing the line between the dirt pathways of the settlement’s outskirts and the trees of unclaimed land. Normally, her path back home would never be so close to the village, but she was far too gleeful to mind. She had come back with a sense of fulfillment and a rare object—or if not rare, then hopefully of great value.
It was hard to point to any one specific reason that she came across the orb. There had always been a ‘draw’ during her travels, urging her that there was something missing in her life, yet it was no more than a mild whim to walk in a particular direction more often than not. Once she reached this part of the continent, she was compelled to wander, never quite able to explain why she obliged the sensation besides having nowhere in particular to be. Even when she finally settled somewhere, it stayed in the back of her mind, suggesting that she was close to whatever would make the pit of vacancy go away. She ignored it, purposefully distracting herself with her work and responsibilities, yet that could only last so long. When she awoke this morning with plans to resupply, and all of her newfound spots had been picked clean by wildlife, she turned to the depths of the forest where she was warned not to tread. It was all too easy to follow the subtle tug in her chest through the loose justification.
The urge to be somewhere grew unbearable with every step closer to the forbidden area. That sense of having a direction she needed to go became stronger and stronger, until she was well into land long since forgotten. She came across an overgrown depression in the hillside, and was entranced by the foreboding image. Something about the cave just…beckoned her. She was far too weak to resist.
Horrible tales echoed into her ears as whispers of fearful voices, warning and unending, yet but a dull drone compared to her hammering heart. She navigated the trees and brushed aside unkempt vines, stepping into the cavern with a mix of expectation and trepidation, then laid eyes on the small obsidian stone perched atop a crumbling pillar. The feeling of needing to travel somewhere…stopped.
The pull was absent, which was why she held the orb close instead of placing it into her basket. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but she recalled overheard tales of hidden gemstones, deep cavernous expanses, and the untold terrors that lay within. Comparing the scenes of those fables to the cave seemed foolish now; it wasn’t some torturous chamber, but a dusty depression in a small hillside. Besides, anything this pretty was sure to be worth a fair sum, and she needed the coin. Yet the thought of selling the precious-looking stone was a conflicting one. She shook off the thought for the time being, turning her attention back towards where she was going.
Shadows stretched and faded as the moon stole the last of the illumination afforded by the sun, replacing it with a calming glow that caressed the log frames and thatched roofs of various homes. A star-filled sky came into prominence as clouds lazily drifted away, revealing the promise of tomorrow’s fair-weathered arrival. It was too late for anyone to notice her treading on the edge of their town while lost in thought, but she was still careful not to get too close to the houses or livestock pens where people might be finishing the evening’s duties. It was best that they didn’t see her returning from a place she was told not to go. Still, her feet carried her near the dwellings as she took in the noises.
Ceele enjoyed the comforting chatter from a distance. Indistinct words floated freely. Meaningless gossip and warm goodbyes were exchanged between friends and family. Places of various occupations were dark and quiet, only the faint contented mewls and clucks of livestock coming from their pastures as they ate what was recently put out for them. No metal rang throughout the streets as it was struck inside a centralized smithy, no heated bartering came from an overactive trade house, and the crunch of dirt beneath transport or merchant wagons was absent, replaced by the rapid steps and yelps of children rushing to their homes before it got too dark out. It was all just gentle conversation and life drifting through the wind, taking the rustle of leaves along for the ride, just so she could hear it. Tranquil, in a word.
She wondered what it would sound like if she were yet one more voice within that crowd of kindness. Would it be loud like the larger cities? Would she struggle to maintain a thought with so many stray topics floating about? Would she once more yearn for the peace and quiet of solitude that she had grown used to, or would she immerse herself, free of judgment and laughing like the carefree young that scampered about? Did thinking about it even matter?
Her smile fell from its genuine intensity—still worn, but not as fully. She glanced downward as her stride lost its jubilant bounce, her tail losing its sway as her grey eyes examined the dry black scales that adorned her body against her wishes. It was the ugly hue of tarnished oil, unlike the skin of any other kobold she had met. Some had reds or greens, yellows or whites, while most were between a sandy tan or earthen brown. The rainbow of peculiarities was displayed by the lucky few, and she was one of them…
…Yet she was different in the worst of ways.
Even if she would rather any other colour, she supposed it was that way to make sure no one came near without accepting the unspoken risks. That was what her mother always said, anyway, though the woman hardly feared much of anything in her old age, and dedicated herself to giving her offspring all the love she had left to give—a perk of living a full life. She would always help her daughter bathe, complimenting the colour of what most were unnerved by. That was more than a decade ago now, however. Ceele’s parents had passed on while she was still young, and she took to travelling not long after, working at what she could to afford what little she needed. Never for long, though—just enough to get to the next town between where she was and where the urge to go lay. There were certainly moments she looked back on fondly, but the journey had taken its toll.
The crude material of her ‘dress’ was coarse, old, and heavy, but it helped ease the worst of spring's chill—even if it was more of a modified sack than proper attire. Still, it was all she had after the last of her clothing fell apart, and giving the repurposed material a name that reminded her of something else made it less uncomfortable to wear, somehow. It would have to do until she could afford a pitying seamstress or the like. Until then, she would pretend she didn’t look so desperate, even if it only highlighted her status and made finding work difficult.
But it did. The dishevelled garment was a far cry from the wonderful silks or breathtaking designs she had seen some women wear, harshly marking the distinction between herself and those of affluence. The clothing of commoners was also a leap in style and quality, so she couldn't say her attire was up to even modest standards. No matter how hard she squinted, and no matter how much she fantasized otherwise, she seemed every bit like the vagrant she was, down to the soil embedded in the curvature of her claws and the stains throughout her fabrics. She looked like a serf from the more oppressed lands, yet they too wore crude cottons, which said a lot about how she appeared to those who had never lived a life of servitude. It was obvious that she was an outsider. That she didn't belong amongst the rest. It made changing something as simple as her appearance all the more difficult; prospective employment always saw a young woman who seemed more likely to steal or swindle than make an honest day’s living.
There was one good twist of fate in recent memory, however, and she came upon the result of it after leaving the slowing bustle of the village behind. Her steps carried her through a small copse of trees on the outskirts of town, the small shaded path leading to the back of a large, carefully pruned clearing, a scattering of fruit-bearing trees providing even darker shadow than the already dim moonlight. She skirted along the aging fence on the border that kept predatory animals away, carefully hoisting herself over the barrier where a large vegetable garden she was responsible for tending resided. If one were to tell her she would be living in such an area several months ago, she would have smiled politely and walked away, yet here she was.
A modest, warmly lit home occupied the middle of the clearing, sitting front and centre when one approached from the village path. It looked quite cozy, surrounded by berry bushes that were just beginning to bloom as the last dregs of winter slipped away. A front patio displayed a nice table and well-loved chairs, the rustic appearance only adding to its charm as a place where friends and family spent the warm summer afternoons. A smithy to the left of the house functioned as an additional heated building during the colder months, but usually served as a storefront and to muffle the sounds of hammered iron, though that had become less common. An old stable was nearby, close enough to be accessible, but not so close as to disturb the once occupying animals with sounds of iron craft. It hadn't seen a horse in quite some time, apparently, so it was mostly a workshop for whatever tasks didn’t require fire or metal.
There was a long history attached to each little detail—from the scuffs along the wooden siding to the depressions in the ground where daily routine wore into the earth. Every fault suffered throughout the years was matched by a thousand quirks that made it feel welcoming, like the house itself was merely waiting for the next friendly face with one of its own. She knew that the inside of each building would look just as cared for.
Her concern lay outside, however. It was a comparatively miniscule space just barely visible through the sheltering trees, true, yet it was where her efforts turned into tangible results, and where a stranger’s trust was painstakingly repaid. Once overgrown grass had been laboriously trimmed, the weeds plucked and disposed of, and now nothing distracted from what she could claim she had done.
The small plots of rock-bordered soil had little buds of growing vegetables, a sense of pride never failing to bloom in her breast with the knowledge that it would be barren without her touch. When her troubles and concerns grew heavy, and fears of the future or spectres of the past loomed over her head, she could look at where she had brought life where it wouldn't otherwise be. Some days, that was enough. She smiled in appreciation at what was admittedly amateur work, the night’s sky helping to hide any inevitably made mistakes.
She enjoyed the sight for a moment longer, then turned to walk towards a neglected old tool shed that was well out of sight within the trees, far away from whatever warmth and comfort the larger house offered to everyone and anyone. She put a hand on the degrading wood of the entryway, giving one last sad smile at the garden as she dismissed selfish thoughts of taking the eventual harvest for herself. A breath cleared the uncertainty from her voice, and she pushed open the door.
“I'm home!”
= = = = =
It took a while for Altier to adjust to his situation, and even once he accepted that his mana wasn't being siphoned, he was still reeling from confusion. He had spent centuries with every year passing by without his notice, yet now he was painfully aware of each creeping second languidly dragging on with the expediency of growing grass. It was as disorienting as it was painfully nostalgic.
Time was something he was never good with, and it only got worse as a dungeon. He'd get lost in creating rooms, corridors, creatures, and whatever else needed doing, only pausing to watch or listen to the few adventurers he became interested in. There was a stint where he spent what felt like hours agonizing over new abilities or options while he let the system manage things in the background, though he supposed it might have been much longer. So many wasted days, yet he still hadn't managed to try everything he had gained access to. Some abilities were simply too niche, came with concerning titles, or held descriptions that made him wary. Anything with ‘Decay’ in the name was instantly ignored—he didn't need more reasons to fear his affinity, and from the few he took the effort to read through, they were always vile.
But his existence for the moment was no longer like those endless stretches spent pondering the minutiae of what would help his adventurers grow stronger. Now, he could follow the rhythmic sounds of footsteps and steady breathing that set a calming pace. They were someone else's, yes, but they contextualized how easy it was to slip away without the subtle noises of life that he had long since surrendered to help his family. Of course, there were more differences that he noticed since being removed from his crumbling cavern, and his sight was the newest change.
He never gave much thought to how far he could see before. Why would he? As a man, his world extended as far as he could fathom, yet was also confined to the room where he spent his days, and as a dungeon… Well, who was he to consider distance when an event happening miles away could be seen with a flicker of thought? Nothing was too far when it was within his creation. Or his ‘body,’ he supposed. Sadly, his entire perception currently consisted of the small sphere of his obsidian core, and maybe a finger's length beyond it—which is to say, not much. He could make out the fine details in the dirty burlap he was held against, and how pale moonlight slowly took over the blurred reds of sunset, but hardly anything more. It was all just frosted colours after a certain point, and he found it infinitely frustrating. He just wanted to peer beyond the haze and scaly hand holding him to confirm that the sky he remembered was still there. Alas, the sunlight faded at too quick a pace, yet one oh so agonizingly slow.
The ensuing darkness gave him nothing to do but think about where he was, not that he had any ideas. He was too curious about why he wasn't dead to bother much with his blurry surroundings after the soft-spoken kobold abducted him, thus why he only belatedly noticed how limited his worldview had become. There might have been a forest beyond his cave, but the greens and browns were gone, and the sounds of steps through brush was replaced by the distant din of a village. An idle curiosity pondered if he would recognize any descents of his ‘family tradition’ adventurers there, but he was being carried by what most considered a monster, so likely not.
That short musing was short-lived, however, and he brought his focus back to the matter at hand. He supposed he was being taken somewhere specific, but that was an obvious deduction, considering he was taken at all. The why of the matter was less so; for what purpose would someone want a Decay-aligned core? He hadn’t heard of them before…well, before he was made into one, but he couldn’t imagine many uses. Maybe he was being sold? His…kidnapper? His sudden companion seemed rather pleased by their discovery of him, so that might be the case, and it was morbidly amusing to think that a frail, sickly young man might one day become a coveted, highly valuable item. His abduction could also be a part of some cult’s nefarious activities, but he didn't want to think about that too hard. He experienced enough odd ceremonies from the adventurers who took the time to tell him their tales.
Either way, he wasn't in the dungeon anymore, and he couldn’t see where he was going. He tried to query his menu to glean an answer, but was met with a scrambled mess he suspected read ‘Synchronizing…’ and little else. It gave him a headache trying to make sense of it—which he didn't know was possible anymore—so he dismissed the text and distracted himself with blurs from whatever diluted senses he still had. There wasn’t much to observe other than the constant footfalls and the flicker of shadows on his companion’s burlap garment. They might have travelled through brush again, but it was too dark to really say for certain.
Eventually, there was something new. He heard an old latch rattle and rusted door hinges groan, then a shuddered clack that confirmed he was now in a building. His kobold acquaintance gently cooed at something before moving about the nearly pitch-black space, finally setting him down on a… He wasn’t sure what it was, besides old and wooden.
[D$#@m$n E@$*ded]
The headache from before became a blinding migraine that suffocated him under a flash-flood of suffering. Seconds passed in abject torture until it blissfully abated, the mental blinks clearing his mind enough to notice a change in his existence. Specifically, he could actually see something besides the rotting wood grain he was placed on top of.
And it wasn’t anything promising…
He was more or less in the centre of a room no bigger than twelve paces by maybe ten. Not a terrible size for a space, but it was clearly never meant to house someone. His resting place looked about as neglected as he surmised; it was an upturned feeding trough, he supposed, since calling it a table seemed too generous. The surface was rife with holes and degraded iron, so it was something that once saw regular use before being replaced and tossed into storage, never to see the light of day again.
Actually, most things in the room seemed to fit that description. The window shutters were installed with metal hinges that had since rusted them closed, the misalignment letting in a draft—and whatever weather was outside as well, most likely. A poorly carved bowl sat on the floor, the stain beneath it hinting that it collected any rainwater that slowly dripped from the leaky roof. The wooden floorboards looked old, splintered, and in need of maintenance or replacement, though an effort had been put into abrading it somewhat smooth lately.
A tiny and decrepit fireplace was to the left of the door upon entry, its brickwork slowly crumbling due to weathering and age. It was sized more for keeping the room warm during mild days than to keep away the frigid chill of night. Its base only held cold ashes, but there was a collection of deadwood and scraps nearby, so that would probably be rectified soon. A small wheel-less cart had been turned into storage against the opposite wall, some herbs and other foraged items stowed away in it for future use. Various things he remembered seeing his father and brothers use in the fields were scattered about, too. It was nostalgic to see, honestly, even if his recollections had blurred over time.
Bundles of tattered blankets formed a pair of nests in the far corner, the smaller of the two had a pile of rough plants nearby. That answered his silent pondering of the room's purpose somewhat, though he was pretty sure the bedding material was salvaged, and there didn’t seem to be any hay or padding underneath whoever was sleeping on it. He didn’t know what to think about the weeds; they were purposefully placed there, and whoever did so had taken the time to wash them, but it was still strange.
He couldn’t see a doorway besides the entrance, yet most of the hallmarks of residency were put where space could be afforded, however crude. All in all, he surmised that it was a gardening shed of sorts, and his new acquaintance apparently lived here. He wasn't sure what he was expecting when a creature he had only read about came into his dungeon, but it wasn't being brought to a rundown and decrepit shack for unknown purposes.
Even if he had been raised by parents who made a humble living at the best of times, and they had emptied their coffers for unsuccessful attempts to ease his ailments, his acquaintance's living space made him uncomfortable. His family's house was never anything fancy, true—it shared some of the worn qualities that inevitably gathered over the years—but it was never this bad. His home benefited from a father's touch keeping it robust and a mother’s love keeping it warm, whereas this place had seen neither in quite some time. Oh, there was evidence that such was once the case; a wall was adorned with carefully made and well-spaced hangers for the various gardening tools, though the implements themselves had become a victim of neglect. That being said, he could make out the fresh soil and recent scratches exposing furrows of silver, so they were seeing use again.
A scrape and clack of flint drew his attention to his kobold companion. They were kneeling in front of the fireplace, methodically sparking life back into a dead flame with twigs and dried leaves. A slow, steady breath into the reddened base illuminated its face with a dull orange glow, revealing its weary visage and the permanently etched smile that rested beneath its cold grey eyes. The black-scaled kobold looked tired, if he were to guess—much the same as Altier did when he spent countless days watching everyone living a life he could never have through the mossy window of his bedroom. He was probably humanizing it too much. Still, he was surprised by the muted pang of sympathy, and how he would feel much more than blithe curiosity after spending so much time alone in the crumbling crypt of his own making.
A mental breath cycled through him as he looked at the odds and ends yet to be observed. Hardly anything else was of note—everything else was degraded and neglected, too. He did notice a nest of blankets move though, which was as good a distraction as any. The answer to his previous ‘pile of weeds’ inquiry poked a tiny nose from a crease in the fabric, then rapidly pawed at the blankets to dig itself out. Altier stared at the creature in both recognition and confusion.
It was a rabbit…or at least it looked like one, assuming you were to also describe a porcupine and a sea urchin as well. He was pretty sure he didn’t remember any hare that had jagged metal-tipped fur, nor that had said fur arranged into a row of spiked horns that flowed down its spine, terminating at a large fluffy tail, which was equally bizarre to see. The whole of its coat could double as a weapon, with semi-sharp barbs sticking off seemingly at random, yet he remembered an adventurer saying most animals used that sort of thing defensively. He increased his focus as he tried to make sense of the odd creature. Surely he would have heard about—
[Hoppittttttt#%%÷ — Ferro-o-orabbit-it (Ma%$le)
Abil—]
[Null]
[Er0Rrrrrrrr—]
[Und#$f—]
He bit back the pain caused by the sudden intrusion of his menu, blanking out the text and mentally retreating to hide from the source. Did he just inspect something? How? Shouldn’t his entire…‘framework,’ was it…? Yes, that was it. Shouldn’t that have been corrupted? Why could he see the creature’s information when his entire framework was damaged? That was the first ability he lost, so why is it the first to be functional? How was it functional? Was it? It did just spit garbled text at him, but it was something, and that was more than he had gotten from it in a very long time. If it was somehow working—no matter how poorly—then that left the question of why he hadn't heard of anything called a ‘ferrorabbit’ before, assuming he read that correctly.
A soft thud vibrated the tro— table, startling him out of thought. He turned his attention to the button nose wiggling erratically at him, the short, stubby muzzle leading to surprisingly expressive and curious red eyes. Dull brown fur jutted off in random tufts and patches, changing to a darker tint on its paws and the upper half of its ears, while the tips of its spikes were a muted hue of iron. It still seemed just as soft as the less pointed variety he remembered, if a touch dirty. Upright ears twitched this way and that way as its head vigorously shook, eventually settling on pointing in his direction when it calmed down enough.
It was apparent that he had its undivided attention…for all of a few seconds. His scaly companion called something out in their foreign tongue, and whatever conclusion the pointy-furred animal came to, it seemed more interested in the kobold, parting from him after nudging his core with its nose.
[Cre-e-e—]
[Errrrrrr0r: Undefiiiiiiii—]
[Acceeeeep-t-t-t??]
[Yeeee— s s / Nnnnnnn—]
He winced at the intrusion, but the contents detracted from the pain. He couldn’t remember the system ever asking him a question without his explicit intent being involved. It wanted him to…accept something? Was it the system prompting him, or the animal? What was he to accept?
[Creatuuuuu—]
[Acce-e-e-%#@ed!]
…What?
= = = = =
“Hoppit, that's not food!” Ceele admonished half-heartedly, placing a larger branch on the burgeoning flame before she got to her feet. She wasn’t actually that worried; the stone was as big as his head, and she was pretty sure he couldn't bite into it. Hopefully. “Come here, momma has a treat for you!”
The ferrorabbit playfully bumped the gemstone and jumped off the low table, landing with a soft thud that belied how heavy he was for his tiny size. He wiggled in excitement, his ears flailing and releasing a slight clack whenever the two connected. It got even louder when she grabbed her basket and put away the useful herbs, taking out a specific item that she had gathered just for him. The little bun wasted no time in scurrying over and standing tall on his hind legs to judge if the offered plant was to his liking—and it was, based on how he dug in with enthusiasm. She stifled a laugh as she contentedly watched him nibble away on the treat, ignoring the guilt that came with knowing she couldn't afford proper vegetables for him. He had a hard life too, and it tore at her to have so little to give.
She came across Hoppit a year ago, during a storm that worsened while she was travelling between towns. The day had darkened to night in spite of it still being about noon, but the weather didn't care for how bright it was supposed to be. Wind and rain became a typhoon, forcing her to seek shelter in a thankfully abandoned den of what was probably a larger animal. She was fine with waiting out the squall, since the stone roof over her head was more than she usually had back then, but the sounds of dull bangs and thuds near her hideaway was followed by cries of animals yelping in pain. Curiosity won over reason, and she left the safety of her shelter to see what was causing the disturbance. Truthfully, she was hopeful that she'd come across scraps or the like, her hunger driving her forward, and she could always turn back if it seemed dangerous. Yet when she arrived at the source of the commotion, she found herself thinking of anything but food.
Two predators had fought over a small burrow, both trying to dig out a meal and taking offence to the other doing the same. What they didn’t know was that they were assaulting the home of ferrorabbits. Specifically, the home of an angry, protective, and well-fed mother that was keeping her newborns safe from the storm when predators decided to try their luck. From the scene Ceele came across, it was certainly obvious why most people dislike trying to hunt the creatures.
Sadly, the rabbit didn't survive an attack from two predators, but she did make their victory pyrrhic; neither could do much about their hunger with their bodies full of cuts and holes, and it was only a matter of time before they succumbed to blood loss or infection. The mother's sacrifice meant that the babies had avoided the imminent threat, but they were left unattended as a consequence, and it took an opportunistic bird swooping down to shake Ceele out of her shock. Despite her subsequent hurry, she only acted in time to save one of the orphaned young. The warren was new and barely dug out, which meant that it didn’t take much effort for the kits to be found—by both her and hungry maws. All she could do was scoop the ball of fluff into her arms and run back to the cave before anything else tried to eat it.
In retrospect, it was a stupid decision for a number of factors. She barely had the resources to supply herself, and an attempt to raise offspring of any type would only make the inevitable heartbreak worse. But when she saw how quiet and scared he was… How his tiny, shaking body calmed in her arms, those terrified red eyes seeking comfort… She should have just walked away when she knew there wasn’t going to be anything to fill her stomach. She should have put the baby animal down and let nature take its course…yet the preciously furry face stole her heart far too quickly for it to grow so cold. The next day was spent backtracking to the nearest town to get him something suitable to eat, which used most of her meagre savings. Still, it was worth every coin.
Hoppit had been accompanying her ever since. He grew quickly, transitioning from something she saved that stormy night into a presence she had grown to love like a child. The little lagomorph would bounce along beside her during her travels, then ride in her arms as he rested—though the latter happened with worrying frequency as of late. She hadn’t learned much about the springy herbivores, but she knew enough to say that he wasn't as big as he should be, nor was his fur as sharp. No matter how startled he was, his spiky coat never managed to do more than stiffen slightly, which was apparently a side effect of poor diet, according to snippets of conversation she had overheard on the topic. She wanted him to be healthy, but she didn't know what he needed. Not many farmers raised ferrorabbits, and those that did were far away, so she didn’t have anyone to ask what she should be doing. Her best course of action was to give him what little she had.
Ceele was well aware of how he would be better off on his own, but he followed her whenever she tried to set him free. Hoppit just kept launching into her arms and wiggling his ears, ecstatic that he was with her again, uncaring that food was scarce and that they spent most of their days travelling. No amount of cold nights spent bundling up under the tattered blankets she managed to find ever dampened his spirits, and he was content to eat the grass or flowers whenever he felt like it, oblivious to the fact that he wasn’t getting enough nutrition. He would dig and excitedly drag back oddities that he found, and the one time he found a plant that looked particularly good for him, he insisted that it be shared with her.
A black pit still lingered in her chest when she recalled how pleased he was while he munched on the rare vegetable he discovered, then how distressed he became when she wouldn’t have any as well. He bumped and nipped at her, all but begging her to eat. His ears pinned back against his head, his fur bristled in a way she hadn’t seen since. It was only when she took a small bite and let him inspect the new teeth marks that he seemed to calm down, but perhaps she had been looking too deep into the actions of her tiny friend. All she could say for certain was that he was scared she was going hungry.
A morbid thought wondered if his first mother had refused food shortly before being attacked, and he—as small and simple as he was—had connected the two events in his mind, making him absolutely terrified that something would happen if Ceele didn’t have something too. All of that fear, and desperation overwhelmed him, just because she was happier watching him eat. She was determined to erase that issue. She would find something that needed a worker and earn enough to feed them both. One day, she would be able to smile at how big and healthy her little fluffy boy had become, but until then, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to think about how she was spending so much time growing vegetables and fruit that he couldn’t have…
Every morning was an exercise in tending to the gardens while actively shoving down images of a pleased ferrorabbit happily eating the results. That never went well; no matter how determined she was to complete her duties without a single selfish thought, most tasks were done while picturing his full belly and delighted bounces. There were a few weeks until the fastest of the crops would be ready for harvest, and Ceele would have to collect them while fighting the urge to bring back just a few for him.
She couldn’t, because she knew exactly how quickly that could escalate. It would start small—A vegetable here, a fruit there—but seeing Hoppit happy was one of the precious few good things she had in her life. Crossing the line would only become easier each time. They couldn’t risk losing their new home over greed, and she was already betraying the trust given to her by housing a wild animal, especially one known to be a pest for crops. She didn't want to know how angry it would make her benefactors if she was caught taking their vegetables for one.
No matter how tame and precious Hoppit was, and no matter how well he listened, they would only see him as the same creature that ruined harvests in droves. Thus was why she had to tell him to stay cooped up by himself while she was working or scavenging. And to her surprise, he did.
Honestly, she had made the initial request with the expectation of needing to carry him back into their home until he understood that she wasn’t leaving him forever. There wasn’t much she could do to stop the ferrorabbit from digging through the old wooden building if he wanted to get out. He wouldn’t need to damage anything either—a rotting board on the door only needed a little push to nudge it out of the way, and his natural curiosity made sure he was aware of it. But no, Hoppit was well-behaved as always, keeping hidden until she walked through the door, where he would leap from the shadows to personally show her how good he was and how he stayed put like she asked him to. It never stopped amazing her that he had such a surprising level of understanding despite being an animal, and that was to say nothing of how young he was.
All that intelligence, joy, and companionship he offered her…and yet the best she could give back to him was the weeds from the garden and the odd plant she found while scavenging…
Soft clacks of flicking ears dragged her from her pondering, her mind returning to the present. Hoppit finished his treat of the small plant, then bounced in place and scurried over to his bowl of water, perfectly happy to have eaten only that. He was so joyful with how little she provided, approaching every day of scarcity with the same enthusiasm she could never muster, as if certain that everything would be alright.
“It’s bedtime, Hoppit,” Ceele announced through a soft sigh, stoking the fire with enough branches to hopefully last the night. The ferrorabbit perked an ear in her direction, then sat on his haunches to extend the rest of himself up, his two little forepaws adorably held to his chest as he inspected the room like he always did. She smiled and made sure everything was stored away, then laid down on her bundle of blankets, covering herself with the warmest one. Hoppit bolted over to snuggle once he decided everything in the shed was up to his standards, throwing himself to the floor in a dramatic flop of comfort. Her quiet laughter subsided as they both settled in for the night, her tail completing the rabbit’s encompassing cuddle, but her eyes fell towards the obsidian orb on the table, her thoughts following suit.
It sat there, just as she left it, as benign as anything else ever placed atop the improvised furnishing. Yet there was a sense of ease and purpose as well. The old wooden trough seemed…important with its adornment firmly laid upon its surface, and she couldn’t puzzle out why. She was starting to doubt her earlier excitement.
Should she sell it? Would anyone know where it came from? Would anyone know what it was, or if it was worth anything? If she could get even a modest sum for it, she would be able to buy clothing, food, and new bedding. It would be easier to convince someone to give her work if she was dressed better and wasn’t so thin, and then she would have the income to slowly improve both of their lives. She could pay for a wandering merchant to ask a ferrorabbit rancher about the animal, even if it would take time to get back to her, or maybe she could hire a local if they needed to go near one for some reason. The cost didn’t matter to her as long as it happened.
But there was something else bothering her about the idea of selling the stone. She had travelled so far with a tug in her chest, only for the feeling of wanderlust to dissipate as soon as she held it. Was that a sign? She was never one for things like ‘fate,’ but a niggling doubt in her mind discouraged the idea of making a profit off her discovery. Even if what she could gain was so very tempting, and even if Hoppit would be happier if she did…
She tore her dampened eyes away and closed them, ignoring the burning trails running across her face. It would be another early morning, and she needed to sleep so she could take care of the garden. Decisions like this could wait. Once she had nothing else distracting her, and she had time to properly think about it, she would see how she felt about the stone.
Eventually, she dozed off with Hoppit pressed against her chest, and a longing in her heart.
Next
—
A/N: Patreon and Ko-fi will be 1 chap ahead this time around, and I've set it so everything from the lowest tier up can read the newest trashfire! Anything above that is sheer show of love. Hope you enjoyed!

I’ve read so many horror stories about getting off depo and it seems like from the various forums including Reddit that the majority of women getting off depo said it was a nightmare.
I’ve (24F) only been on depo for a little over 2 years. But I decided to get off because I’ve been hit with some very unpleasant side effects. Recently for the past month I’ve been dealing with menopausal symptoms like hot flashes, night sweats, bloating, waking up in the middle of the night, mood swings, and decreased libido. It really just came out of nowhere, and the only thing I can attribute this change to is depo (or the very small % chance that the lump in my neck is cancer, seeing an ENT for that).
Now I’m debating whether to stay off birth control for a while and let my body regulate again or go on a different birth control. My fear is that I’m suspected to have endometriosis (been pushing for a lap but women’s healthcare sucks in the US), and my periods are painfully brutal. I can only imagine what my first period in 2 years is gonna look like if I even get it but seeing as though I’ve been cramping hardcore this past week & my next shot is due next Monday I have a bad feeling bleeding will come soon.
I don’t have a lot options seeing as though I can’t use any birth control with estrogen bc of my migraine with aura. My friend thinks I should hold off of birth control, but I have a lot of sex with my partner and pregnancy terrifies me. So I guess has anyone been on the other birth controls like the POP, implant or IUD? And what was your experience? Were you able to have unprotected sex and be protected from pregnancy? How were the side effects? And for those off depo, how was your experience with getting off it?

First of all let's get to mindset part of it
See if u do something just to get women u will soon be lost ur true self and worst case scenario that hobby will be your only personality . But if u do it to improve and to reach your genetic potential u will be happy
Most important 3 things Diet Exercise Water
Fix these
so let's start with face
Lean maxxing the law
1 So reducing body fat
2 removing bloating by drinking loads of water and reducing sodium
3 using Gua sha , facial exercises for lymphatic drainage
4 there are some exercises u can find for hyoid bone i will link it later
This will make ur facial structure come out u never knew existed
And let's go to skin
Find ur skin type and for beginners start using
Edit : check Indiaskincareaddicts for product recommendations
1Sunscreen
2Cleanser
3Moisturizer
According to your skin type
And drink lots of fking water 🌊💦
If u have any specific issue like acne pls get it treated if it's a lot cz acne scars don't go the gaddhe
-For acne
1Don't touch your face
2Change bed sheets, pillow case frequently
3 avoid chocolate
Hair
Check ur face type and hair type and find in Pinterest it does help but don't always blame ur barber cz khud ke Baal and face PR depend karta kya theek dikhega u should try a bunch of haircut to know what suits u . And it's about ur face too
Hair fall
1Check if ur family has history of male pattern baldness if there is then pls go to doc and get it treated
If u don't have this then
2Pls check if u don't have any kind of deficiency
3And vegetarians a lot of time have b12 ki kami so u can check that
4And it can be caused due to hard water so yeah u have to get a filter for it if ur location has very high tds
4And u can shift to rosemary oil it's good
Fashion
This is very specific thing but on a good physique and frame all of clothes look good . But u can learn about it try finding some influencer whom u like i will link some below . And u can use Pinterest too
Teeth
For teeth u can start with a floss and tongue cleaner as a extra step
Whiting strips are also there if u have them yellow
And if ur teeth are crooked then u should try getting it fixed by doc
Height
Umm yeah it does matter but u can't change it so hard pill to swallow
But u have to accept it
But u can do some things to make u appear look taller
1 Rule of thirds
2 Wearing same colour top and bottom so u look like a straight line
3 And heels yeah shoes with a Lil thicker sole
People who don't belong to this post
1 people who do virtue signalling
2 people who think personality is what matters
2 people who come here to say nah it's over, mog . etc new gens . Just tell full form of psl if u know that much
For mods
Bhai main ek jagah comment kiya tha and then dm aaye the khub se so i thought making a post of it . And i kinda wanted to help and i did had some info on it so i shared it . Why not in Indian teenager cz idk i don't like them . Sorry again
Links
Hyoid bone -https://youtu.be/lMPjZCK_88Y?si=688XjERroavkMOnM
Gua sha -https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cz6Z3ZnLYCk/?igsh=MTU1aGc4MDN3MjJibQ==
Edit : merko kuch aur kaam ka milega i will add it hygiene etc and more thing what u want u can tell will add it

Gold has held a special place in Indian culture for centuries. Traditionally, it's been a way to save for weddings, festivals, or simply a secure store of value. Today, with the rise of digital platforms, saving in gold has become easier and more accessible than ever. This guide explores the world of digital gold in India, answering your questions and helping you make informed decisions.
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Several platforms offer digital gold in India. Whenever you plan to save in digital gold you must conduct your own research before investing in a precious metal. Research and select a reliable platform, look for strong brand reputation, secure transactions, and competitive fees.
Make an account, complete all the necessary details, following with the KYC (Know Your Customer) to experience a smooth and stable savings journey.
It might sound confusing as to what is the Best Platforms to Buy Digital Gold, but not anymore, you can Buy Digital Gold with as low as ₹10/- and digital silver from Bright DiGi Gold with just a few taps on your phone.
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You can easily track the live digital gold price today in India and place your order at a time that suits you.
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Digital gold investment offers a modern and convenient way to save the timeless asset of gold. With its ease of access, transparency, and lower costs, it's a compelling option for Indian investors looking to diversify their portfolio or simply build a secure nest egg. Remember, thorough research and a clear understanding of your financial goals are key to making informed decisions. So, shine on and embrace the world of digital gold savings!

Can smone pls mark my descriptive text from 40 for fle? Thanks in advance! :))
Crowded bus
The bus that would take me home slowly approached me and slowed down while releasing a long hiss, like sighing from the intense weight it was already carrying. The creaking door clumsily opened and a powerful, noisome gush of wind attacked my face and I immediately knew it was going to be a long, vexating journey. I hastily climbed the small staircase, paid the fee and stood in the hallway beside the door. There was no vacant seat to be seen, only frowning faces. Cacophonies clashed together, revolting smells, salty tastes, all justified my initial speculation: I may not go home well and healthy.
I was cradled by people from all races, genders and sizes. However, they all shared one thing, an incorrigible grimace that radiated suffering, malice and sadness to every corner of the bus. The windows were spotty yellow, as though tinted by dirt, snot, sweat, and the seats were so worn out that their insides spilled onto the hallway. The hallway floor was bordered with a range of useless litter, and the ceiling had shelves that, although intended to be used for bags, were used for litter and trash. The bus was teemed with people who none looked friendly to approach. This is why I kept standing. They were stacked one over the other like blankets in a cupboard.The vicinity felt too tight to even stretch a leg, yet I persevered to contain myself.
Babies, disregardingly from the parents, cried and yelled. Adult men pontificated aggressively through their phones, adult women stared through the translucent windows silently; all was chaotic and pandemoniumous. Behind me were the driver and a passenger quarring about some political matter, and above my head was a spasmodic, unrelenting and intimidating clicking sound. Below my feet was the decrepit engine that I heard aggressively hum whenever the gear changed. All of us were trapped in this cage, with no windows open.
I was nauseous from all the sweat that lingered in the atmosphere, mingled with a complex mixture of all the perfumes and colognes on the bus. I was suffocating, especially since oxygen was promptly being replaced with our toxic gases. The litter and babies' diapers released foul and musty smells. That scarred my psyche to this day. I could taste the salty evaporated sweat residing on my tongue and my eyes crimsoned from this disgusting thought. I felt dizzy from all this disgrace. My forehead formed marbles of sweat on, and my t-shirt was stuck on my armpits, for I was drenched in sweat. The floor gently vibrated because the bus was ancient and unequipped to carry all of these people. I was holding onto a greasy orange pole that prevented me from getting knocked out onto the passengers, or even worse: out of the bus. It was expected since the driver was reckless, and hence the bus was dilapidated. I felt I couldn't handle the deplorable state of the bus I was in. I felt I wouldn't get out of the bus alive.
I asked the driver to stop at the nearest bus station, where I took the next transportation vehicle.

I've been struggling with accepting my body for a long time. I've lost track of the number of hours I've spent on this subreddit over the past few years, trying so hard to tell myself that what I was feeling was normal and that there are other women who look like me, and that I don't need plastic surgery or some miraculous second puberty to hit.
I realized today that I've gone from hating my boobs to loving them over the past year. For context, I'm basically completely flat chested (my breast size is very similar to Clara Dao, though the rest of my body is not). I'm posting here for the first time ever because I wanted to share my story and hopefully be able to help anyone else going through a similar journey!
TL,DR: Grew up super insecure about my flat chest, but now love it! Read bold text & list at the bottom for main points.
Growing up, I endured a lot of cruel comments about my breast size which really tore away at me. It was the ones that came from close friends and family which hurt the most, and I eventually believed that my body was so hideous that it took literal miracles for people to be able to see past it and want to get to know me as a person. I had myself convinced from a very young age that I would never experience romantic love because of my body.
As much as I'd like to say that it was self love that got me past these feelings, it was my first relationship that did. Realizing that it was actually possible for me to experience mutual attraction tore down all of my beliefs and left me with no foundations to continue hating my appearance. It got easier for me to view myself as attractive, even after the relationship ended.
But this was my key realization: my boobs were exactly the same size before, during, and after my first relationship. I never needed anyone to prove to me that my body was worthy of love, it always has been. I just never saw it before.
Of course experiencing a relationship wasn't enough to singlehandedly eliminate my insecurities. I'm sure others have brought up similar steps in their journeys to self love, but these are the things that helped me most!

• working out consistently and appreciating how strong and capable my body is (weightlifting has given me so much confidence, and chest days help with definition)
• referring to my boobs as "boobs/breast" instead of "my chest" (I used to feel like I didn't have a right to refer to my boobs as anything other than "my chest" because they were too small)
• staying away from people who make any negative comments about my breast size
• avoiding any kind of shows/media that hyper-sexualize women, particularly over breast size
• going braless
• reminding myself that clothes are meant to fit me, and even though there are some super cute styles that I can't fill out the top in, there are plenty of other styles that suit me so well!
• looking at pictures of celebrities, influencers, friends, etc. with similar body types and remembering how beautiful they look

I would like to acknowledge that I have been fortunate enough to come across numerous friends throughout this journey who have either been very supportive or perfectly neutral about my breast size. All of my romantic interests and casual hookups have also shown appreciation for my boobs. I have had setbacks due to comments from relatives who I can't avoid, but for the most part, I've found that people have been much kinder to me as an adult than when I was a teenager, and this has also helped immensely.
To everyone else here, I hope that you can love and appreciate your beautiful, perfect, small boobs too.

What he means by saying he wants appreciation.
We grew up with programming about how we need to appreciate the men in our lives for all the hard work they do.
We saw pictures of men slaving in maybe a mechanic shop or as a brick layer and it would be accompanied with "God bless every hard working man out there".
News flash!
That man doesn't want you to see him that way. He doesn't want you to see him sweat. He wants you appreciate him as if he performed magic.
That's why he tends to exaggerate alot to the next woman who knows nothing about his low self. For this reason he will end up despising the woman who saw them bleed and who held them up in their down time.
This is male nature. They want to brag. They don't want you to appreciate them while they are suffering or building, they will resent you. They want to brag about themselves to you!
Men have this innate desire to be a big man to someone. That's why after you finish giving him feeding money, he will divide it and give to a baddie who doesn't know it's a woman who fed him.
What men need from you is gratitude AFTER he has done something for you.
I am for all kinds of ladies, so I have tips for those of you who are married to or in a committed relationship with men in their building stage and you still like him and want to be with him.
The advice is: DON'T HELP. don't advise, don't cuddle, don't encourage, don't support .
Let him figure it all out all on his own. You can pray for him but do that in secret. Don't let him know you prayed for him so he won't tie his prosperity to you (this can be dangerous In case you want to leave him) Let him think it's all him.
Be a woman a man wants not needs. Be a woman he can do WITHOUT.
This can save your Life or mental health because men hardly ever leave women alone. Especially if she was profitable to him. They will always find a way to haunt you if you decide to leave.
Be a liability to Men or if you can't be that then be a predator. Always coming into his life to take something but never contribute. You will be safer this way.
I want you to read the stories of men who left their wives. ALL those women supported the man in one way or the other. Even a narc leaves a woman alone when she gets out of the victim mode and play his game back at him. He would either adjust or just leaves her.
But you see that empathetic sweet helpful woman? He haunts her to the very last even after she has left because he feels she owes him something, needs to feed on her energy, care and all so as to feel better about himself. How dare she try to leave?

Interesting, I just woke up from what felt like a nightmare.. I was in the house with my girlfriend but it was my old childhood home and there was little to no furniture in the house for some reason and the neighborhood didn't look exactly the same as it had, more trees and a lake behind the house... I was looking out my window when I noticed 3 people in the woods behind my house but they seemed very worried and off...1 male 2 females, it was like they were trapped behind the treeline but there was nothing in front of them.. the male was freaking out alot but he managed to fall facedown out of the wood line.. he was wearing a white shirt and he had a homemade spear.. he looked at me, looked at the girls and ran never to return.. one of the women was crying her eyes out as the other women who was wearing all black a some blue gem around her neck was staring blankley... They were beside each other and looked like they were unable to cross... At that point in the dream I told them to get out of there cause I felt like they were intruding on my privacy as it's right behind my home and can see into my house... They did nothing.. I started doing something else for awhile and when I looked out my window again they were gone....but then I went to sleep in my dream and I dreamt of the 2 girls standing there again... This time a man came up to the girls. He first brought his attention to the girl who was crying he touched her heart with both his hands and she was frozen in place and infused her with a tree... The other women who was still blankly staring, looked at him and she disappeared completely... In my dream I woke up and it was the next day i immediately looked out my window and sure enough there was that tree the one the women got turned into so I left my house and walked up and from the house it looked normal but when I got up close and looked at the tree facing opposite from the house u can see her heart was in the tree but it was all wooden and i felt oddly disturbing and dread...at that same moment I heard screaming I looked off further into the woods wear there was the lake, the women with the blank stare from the day before was in the lake struggling to swim screaming for help... I didn't help her because I felt a sense of evil somehow so I turned around and went back into the house but by the time that happened there was no more screaming...... Thats when I woke up in real life in a sweat, anyone know what this could mean Iv been trying to look it up with no answer.. as I feel there could be a more sinister reason behind this dream