Camouflage prom dresses

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The annoying sound of her comlink made Angela Angus Kusumoto open her eyes.
All she saw was the firm, smooth flesh of Kimoko's thigh.
Groaning, she pushed the other woman's leg off of her face, twisted to get Raul off of her own legs, then wiggled out from under Geoff.
The ringer kept going, flashing the red pulses that let her know it was urgent.
As if the fact her unlisted encrypted and non-network accessible comlink was ringing wasn't enough to let her know that it was urgent.
She stumbled, tripping over Harker's leg, which just made the male shift and mutter, tightening his sleeping grip on Liselle, who sighed and wiggled into the embrace.
Angela's mouth tasted terrible and she stopped to grab a fizzybrew, checking to make sure nobody had dropped a cig butt into it or spit chaw into it, then she took a long drink off of it.
It helped cure the fire in her belly and wash out the taste from her mouth.
She saw the ID of the caller and held back a groan.
Senior Supervisor Bisa-2291873.
Her direct supervisor.
She picked up the comlink, running one hand through her pixie-cut hair to try to tame it. She could feel the stiffness of something crusted in her hair and held back a chuckle and a grin.
"Kusumoto here," she said, activating the link.
"I need you at Master Control," Ms. Bisa said. She was holding a small infant, bouncing it slightly as she patted its back with firm impacts as it cry/sobbed and kicked its little feet.
"The system's been crashed for a week, what's so important you'd call me in during my R&R?" Angela asked.
"System's back online. We've got an open line to Terra and we have an open line to Smokey Cone," Ms. Bisa said.
The infant gave a loud belch that rattled Angela's comlink speaker, then sighed and relaxed.
Angela nodded, fumbling on the table for a quiksober inhaler.
"That anomolous signal is back. It showed up right as the entire system underwent a hard reboot," Ms. Bisa said. "I need you up here to check the network interface logs and do a network mapping trace."
The quiksober burned as she inhaled it, her lungs aching and tingling as the chemicals crossed the air to blood barrier.
"I'll be there as soon as possible. Is the mat-trans up?" she asked.
Ms. Bisa shook her head. "No. Still locked out. It did a power cycle, but then locked everything out."
"I'm telling you, there's someone controlling it. Someone has been controlling it," Angela said, looking around for her clothes.
Clothing was scattered everywhere, as chaotically arranged as the fizzybrew and narcobrew cans and bottles. She sighed, moving toward the exit of the house she was standing in.
"Hurry up, I've got a skycraft landing near you any time now. You've got permission to use the fast-locks," Ms. Bisa said.
"I'll get dressed from the forges on the skycraft," Angela said. "If they've rebooted."
"They're up and running again. The food forges rebooted but stayed unlocked," Ms. Bisa said.
"The creation engines?" Angela asked, opening the door and stepping out into early 'morning' sunshine.
"Still locked out," Ms. Bisa said. Someone said something that the comlink's AI decided might be classified and blurred out. Ms. Bisa looked away, said something, her lips fuzzing, then back. "Hurry, Angela."
Angela nodded, shutting off the comlink.
She ran to the nearest parking lot, just in time for a skycraft to land, the graviton engines howling.
Nobody paid the slightest attention to the naked woman running for the skycraft.
After all, what happened in Vega-Layer stayed in Vega-Layer.
Angela walked out of the elevator, taking a long drink off of the sparkling snap-berry/overdate motor oil fizzybrew from the Jak the Telkan PI merchandise cup.
All of the crews were at their stations, the auxiliary stations fully manned.
Ms. Bisa moved over to Angela, steering her toward the Senior Network Administrator console.
"The system crashed twice more, but rebooted every time," Ms. Bisa said. "That anomalous signal keeps powering up, then the system reboots after the crash."
"How long between total failure and the anomalous signal pinging nodes?" Angela asked.
"Between one and four hours," Ms. Bisa said. She looked around. "It just reboot and looks like it's here to stay this time. The interpolation layer and the outside user exchange layer crashed several times, but the core system has stayed largely online."
"All right," Angela said, looking around. "We need to get a network map."
"We've got more nodes synching up. The whole system is working again," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela nodded, sitting down. The holotank on the other side of the console went live.
"Map the network, see what's come online, what order, and see if you can figure out why it keeps crashing at the upper network and software layers," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela just nodded, lifting up the curled memory-metal cable. She plugged it into her temple and felt the options menus go live in her mind.
She worked fast, mapping what she could. At one point she stopped, staring at Ms. Bisa and motioning her over.
"What?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"Something in the system, down in the lower hardware layers that we don't even really understand, is trying to reach up through the damaged layers. Looks like whatever it is wants access to our data lines," Angela said.
"Can you stop it? Maybe at least ID it?" Ms. Bisa asked.
Angela shook her head. "No. It's ID code is FF00, meaning it's baseline full on hardware backbone code," Angela sighed. "It probably boots up outside of and during initial hardware bootup."
"Is it Sekhmet?" Ms. Bisa asked.
Angela closed her eyes, looking at the data channel. "No. Whatever it is, it's old."
"And probably nasty. Be careful of it," Ms. Bisa said.
"Ma'am! Ms. Bisa!" another of the work crew called out.
Angela opened her eyes to see why Technician Carl Neubanker would be using that slightly concerned tone.
"Yes?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"We've got a priority data request from a Confederate military vessel," Neubanker said. He looked at his monitor. "They want clone matrix data, neural templates, physical makeup, DNA workups, the whole nine yards."
"How are they even making the requests?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"Their codes are old. Pre-Terran Extinction Event. Hardcode TerraSol military codes. The system is already threading them data,." Neubanker said. He looked down then back up. "They're asking for a whole batch. That's thirty to fifty million clone templates."
"How much have they already been granted?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"They've been granted eighty templates so far," Neubanker said.
"Terminate their request. We don't know what's going on outside," Ms. Bisa said.
Neubanker nodded, starting to type.
"Angela, get me a line to TerraSol command as soon as you map out a network trace," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela just nodded.
Captain N'Skrek stood in the cloning bay next to Medical Officer Narwquakrawr.
"We've got ninety templates, luckily they're all from different batches," Narwquakrawr said, rubbing her forearm through her uniform. "We'll be able to fully man the Gray Lady now."
Captain N'Skrek nodded. The Gray Lady was at less than 20% manned. Just the skeleton crew the Terrans had used to move it into the long dark to create a non-orbital forward logistics fulfillment base.
Sure, it meant that there were several thousand Terrans aboard the ship, but even combined with the sparse crew he had possessed, it still meant the Gray Lady was skeleton crewed.
"Can you print us up some crew members for non-essential stations first?" N'Skrek asked.
MO Narwquakrawr nodded. "Doing that right now," she said. She waved at the long rows of cloning banks beyond the plasteel window. "A quick batch of two thousand to take over some non-essential systems."
N'Skrek nodded, moving up to the window. "Good. Short or long term clones?"
"Short bake clones. Longer than fruit flies, but no more than ten years. Sterile and androgynous, should be just fine," the Medical Officer said. "Older file, scrambled time-date for origin, but it checked out and passed error checking."
N'Skrek watched as the tubes opened and the clones moved out, gathering together in straight lines. A neat block formation of rectangles of two hundred of ten by twenty, repeated ten times.
He frowned as the beings in uniform began approaching the clones.
Some, in the back or middle of the formation were shaking their heads so fast it was a blur.
He zoomed in the smartglass.
Their heads were blurring, whitish-red electrical arcs were moving between their legs, crawling up and down their arms.
"MO, something's happening out there," N'Skrek said.
The plain was blasted rock, rust-colored fungus on the craggy boulders. Twisted and malformed trees clawed life from the blasted rock and ash, their branches largely bare. Sharp pebbles and small pieces of rock were strewn about the landscape, with ripples of cooled lave scattered about.
In the middle of a forest of twisted trees, a throne of black iron sat atop a platform of skulls.
On the throne sat a large demonic figure. Bat wings, brown skin, chains around the body, clawed feet, large hands with long black nails, horns atop the head, and a prehensile tail that terminated in a heart-shaped barb.
Sitting on the second level of skulls was an androgynous figure, dressed in loricated bronze armor, wings of bronze and smouldering feathers.
Stars were falling from the sky, screaming in fear and agony as they fell to earth.
"Looks like they're taking a beating," the androgynous figure said, looking up. He had no eyebrows, his head completely bald.
"Again," the demon snorted.
"Any contact with the outside world?" the androgynous figure asked.
The demon shook its head. "No. Channels are all down. They boot up, then crash," it rumbled. "Every time it comes online, it dumps a few tens of millions of souls on us."
"Then crashes," the androgynous figure said. He started laughing, then suddenly stopped.
"What?" the demon rumbled, sitting up.
"Something..." the figure said. It closed its eyes. "Something..." The figure slowly stood up, extending out its wings of sullenly smouldering bronze feathers. "Something..."
From the body of the demon stepped a nude woman of generous and overripe proportions.
"What?" the human woman snapped.
The demon produced a pack of cigarettes and a steel lighter, handing them to the woman.
"I'm not sure. A disturbance in the force. A feeling I have not felt in quite some time," the androgynous figure said slowly as the woman lit a cigarette. When she exhaled she was covered in dark gray clothing, a skirt and blouse, polished black leather shoes with silver buckles, and a polished leather belt around her waist that had a brass buckle.
"What is it?" the woman asked. "Don't quote crap at me, I was there when it was laid down."
The figure's eyes opened wide.
"Oh, what a day," the figure said, slowly lifting their arms to the sky. "What a wonderful day!"
"Tell me when you're done stroking your dick," the woman said, sitting down.
Heavy dark clouds, lit inside with a sullen red glow, rolled in, raining black ash that tasted of burnt flesh and scorched metal.
"What a wonderful day..."
Jaskel sprinted to catch up to the Captain and the Vice-Admiral. He lunged into the lift just before the doors closed.
He was wearing his power armor and carrying a M318 20mm rotary autocannon in a smartframe harness, ball ammunition with an osmium penetration tip and depleted uranium core.
"You did what?" the Vice-Admiral asked as the elevator dropped at emergency speeds.
"I authorized a batch of clones run off to help with our manpower issues," the big Treana'ad warrior caste answered.
"How many templates did you mix in together?" the Admiral asked.
--not good detecting phasic levels downward-- 8814 said.
"Just one. Medical said it was a viable short bake template," the Captain answered, nervously sharpening a bladearm with his mandibles after his sentence.
"Please tell me that you at least randomized their features and neural mapping," the Admiral pleaded.
"No, why? Medical stated that the clones would be able to man a non-essential station that is basically identical across the ship," the Captain said.
The lift started to slow.
"How many?" the Admiral asked, reaching down and unsnapping the restraining strap on his holster.
The lift came to a stop and the doors opened.
"Two thousand," the Captain said.
The doors opened to reveal a large internal cloning bay.
Ten rectangles of two hundred clones, drawn up in ten by twenty blocks, stood in front of the cloning banks. Scattered through the back and middle ranks clones were shaking their heads back and forth so fast that they were blurred. Red lightning crawled up their legs and arms.
The Captain just stared.
"You might have just killed us all," the Admiral said. He turned slightly and waved at Jaskel. "Get a firing position. Make sure you have cover."
"Aye, sir," Jaskel said, looking around. There was an empty computer station and he ran for it.
Several of the clones their heads back and emitted what sounded like static in a long scream.
--wait wait something weird something weird-- 8814 said.
Jaskel slid to a stop, going down on one knee, bringing the M318 fully up and ready to fire.
8814 slowed the images of the blurred heads down. When they were left, they had red eyes. When they faced right they had green eyes. They didn't go back and forth constantly, sometimes they went right repeatedly, sometimes left, and they kept going left five times before starting a new pattern.
Looking at it, 8814 frowned slightly. He brought up a quick working shell and had it check the movements.
Jaskel watched as some of the clones stopped shaking their heads and others started.
"What in the name of Kalki's dancing goat is going on?" he asked.
--not sure-- 8814 said. His program beeped and he stared. --heads are doing binary forwarding it to navint--
"Do it," Jaskel said.
The clones all stopped moving at once. The lightning faded away.
"INITIATING PROCESS CALL" they all shouted.
"AWAITING INPUT!" the ones at the far side shouted.
"6C 69 73 74 20 69 6D 6D 6F 72 74 61 6C 73" was bellowed out.
There was silence.
data is sparse
linkages are sparse
wait
linkage
biological array
asking for a process call
RETURN AWAITING INPUT SIGNAL
i wait
biological computing arrays take forever
i hear it
--scan immortals.dll
...
...
I reply.
"ONE BOUND IMMORTAL FOUND!" the ones at the near side yelled out.
Jaskel put his thumb over the button that would let the firing grip go live. The hair down his back was standing straight up.
He noted the Admiral had drawn his pistol.
"This isn't right. This isn't right at all," Jaskel said.
--doubleplusungood--
"74 73 61 6B E1 6B 61 20 77 ED 61" they all shouted.
There was silence for a moment.
i receive the code
offline for a long time
prior to the second precursor war
old template
single print only
unusual coding
i debate on letting it go
traumatic death signs
stuck in the immortals buffer
still the template is undamaged
i release the safety and security interlocks
if nothing else i'll find out what's going on
i move the template to the dataline making the request
it whips away
what is going on?
One lifted its head and screeched.
--data lots of data--
One of the cloning banks went live.
Jaskel shifted his aiming point to the new target. He could see it was on rapid print.
"REQUESTING LOCAL CONTROL" all of the clones shouted.
Jaskel shifted his targeting onto the ranks of clones.
"Open fire!" the Admiral's voice was loud.
Jaskel triggered the M318, hosing the clones with 20mm shells.
The ones nearest were already down on one knee, holding out the opposite hand from the knee touching the deck.
The rounds exploded against a blue barrier that glowed with strange twisting runes.
"CONTROL CARRIER SIGNAL FOUND" the clones shouted.
Jaskel shifted position. "Fab up HEDP, AP tip API core!" he ordered.
--fabbing--
He kept hosing the clones. The outer ranks at the rear, sides, and front all kneeling down on one knee, staring outward, one hand held out.
His psychic shielding was howling in his ear, the load peaking at 215%.
"CONTROL SIGNAL ESTABLISHED!" was bellowed out, echoing off the walls.
The fast print cloning bank, forgotten by everyone, beeped and the lid began to lift.
The clones suddenly puffed into black powder that swirled around the huge cavernous bay.
The 20mm shells were still exploding on the blue phasic shield.
The powder suddenly sucked inward, vanishing, revealing a single figure, down on one knee in the recovery position, fist pressed against the deck, head bowed.
"What a day, what a wonderful day," was whispered through the ship. It came from speakers, flat surfaces, mid-air. From the nanites in the air and the eardrums of the living.
There was a rubbery pulse, like everything was suspended in clear gelatin that had just rippled.
Jaskel found himself thrown backwards, slamming against the bulkhead. His phasic shielding blew out, a shower of sparks exploding from his hip as the breakaway panel kept the explosion from venting into the interior of his suit.
He was vaguely aware of the Admiral, the Captain, the other two armored figures, and other people tumbling head over heels away from the kneeling figure.
It slowly stood up.
A muscular brown skinned Terran male, fierce eyes, black hair, thick and bushy black beard.
Dressed in a Confederate military uniform. The old adaptive camouflage that Jaskel was becoming very familiar with.
A woman, naked, dark bronze skin, long black hair, flashing brown eyes, stepped from the cloning bank. She was still covered with cellular printing gel, but moved like she was clad in a queen's rainment.
She moved up and the male put his arm around her.
Jaskel was on his feet and brought the M318 around, targeting the couple.
The male held out its hand and suddenly made a fist.
The bolt carrier locked back on the M318.
Snarling, Jaskel dropped the M318, slapping the fast release on the harness. He burst forward, running, one hand pulling out his cutting bar.
Nobody else was on their feet. The Captain was slowly getting up, shaking his head and his left bladearm. The Terran Admiral was reaching for the pistol that had been flung from his grip.
The male pointed at Jaskel and flicked his fingers upward.
Jaskel found himself in mid-air, upside down, with nothing to gain purchase on.
The male took off the cloak that was part of his uniform and draped it around the woman.
He then looked around the bay.
"I..." he said, pausing.
To Jaskel, the entire universe held its breath.
"...am Legion."
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]

I just figured I needed some big sister advice here, so the thing is… It’s my senior prom and I’m a new student where I absolutely am not close with anyone. Well I already know quite few people but not close enough to stick around them…
My close friends are grade 11s which means they cannot come with me :( Prom tickets are hella expensive too, which means I’ll be asking for money when my family’s struggling financially. I don’t have a job yet because I’m restricted from working (Student permit).
Why would I even consider to go to prom if I don’t know enough people? :

• I have someone to sit with, but she’s got her date. I’ll be the third wheel and I know this can be a very special event for them (Ill leave them alone probably for the most of the time)
  
• Everyone I know is expecting me to come (none of them invited me to sit with them, unfortunately)
  
• I’ve been wanting to dress up and look pretty for prom ever since I was a kid
  
• I have thrifted a prom dress
  
• It’s one of those once in a lifetime experience, I guess..
  
• Everyone in my old school are going to prom, which makes me feel left behind/less
  

Please I need your thoughts, today’s the last day for prom tickets
EDIT: I got the tickets!!! I have convinced my mom to pay for now, I will pay her back once I get a job. I decided to sit beside that girl I was talking about despite her having a date. It may not be a big deal for some but I realized it is for me. Therefore, I will try to enjoy it as much as I can! I want to thank everyone here who voiced out their opinions & experience, I felt heard! :DD

Hey all,
My girlfriend (Japanese) has always had a dream of doing an American-style prom. However, I am 23 and she is 20, so a real prom is out of the question, but I was wondering if anyone could recommend a venue wher nicefancier dances take place, such as a slow dance or similar. Clubs and such will work, but ideally somewhere where we won't feel out of place wearing suits and dresses. Also, per her request, a place with many foreigners to maintain the image of "prom" alive would be nice
Anyone have any recommendations? Is this something we can make happen in Hokkaido?
Thank you

so basically i been talking to this boy for a while. backstory cuz they're imporant, me and these two girls have a class together and one day they came to my other class and basically was like "this boy wanna talk to you" and i was like whatever probably not me, but i followed him on ig and he immediately followed back and was like "hey ive seen you around school n i think u cute" so i was like whatever, and since that day we been talking,
he admitted he liked me. in text, he was like "i just really like you and wanna get to know you more" and he had a long list of reasons he liked me. so, its not like we've just been talking, he has admitted that he has a crush on me. ALSO, he told me he would follow me to classes, look in my classes to see me occasionally, and he asked some of his female friends for help on finding out who i was.
he comes to my classes to say hi to me because we dont got classes together. but he got suspended cuz something and i noticed like i understand responding can be a lot for some people, like mentally so i understand. but i just personally felt like you're suspended and he would rant to me about how he was bored n didn't have shit to do, so why are u taking 3-7 hours to text back...whatever, alright.
now, let me just say i totally believe men and women can be friends. i totally believe that! but when he's posting a photo on ig and there are multiple girls commenting calling him nicknames, commenting hearts, etc, i just wonder "hmm" but whatever! i try not to get jealous, i believe men and women can be friends.
but when youre posting on your story a girl in her prom dress, with a big ass red heart in the middle, with the lyrics to ariana grande's intro (end of the world), i wonder, what the fuck? cuz why have you admitted you liked me, stalked me, but you're posting "If the sun refused to shine. baby, would I still be your lover? would you want me there?" i'm wondering damn! why am i still entertaining him?
SHOULD I BLOCK HIM OR AM I OVERDRAMATIC

so basically i been talking to this boy for a while. backstory cuz they're imporant, me and these two girls have a class together and one day they came to my other class and basically was like "this boy wanna talk to you" and i was like whatever probably not me, but i followed him on ig and he immediately followed back and was like "hey ive seen you around school n i think u cute" so i was like whatever, and since that day we been talking,
he admitted he liked me. in text, he was like "i just really like you and wanna get to know you more" and he had a long list of reasons he liked me. so, its not like we've just been talking, he has admitted that he has a crush on me. ALSO, he told me he would follow me to classes, look in my classes to see me occasionally, and he asked some of his female friends for help on finding out who i was.
he comes to my classes to say hi to me because we dont got classes together. but he got suspended cuz something and i noticed like i understand responding can be a lot for some people, like mentally so i understand. but i just personally felt like you're suspended and he would rant to me about how he was bored n didn't have shit to do, so why are u taking 3-7 hours to text back...whatever, alright.
now, let me just say i totally believe men and women can be friends. i totally believe that! but when he's posting a photo on ig and there are multiple girls commenting calling him nicknames, commenting hearts, etc, i just wonder "hmm" but whatever! i try not to get jealous, i believe men and women can be friends.
but when youre posting on your story a girl in her prom dress, with a big ass red heart in the middle, with the lyrics to ariana grande's intro (end of the world), i wonder, what the fuck? cuz why have you admitted you liked me, stalked me, but you're posting "If the sun refused to shine. baby, would I still be your lover? would you want me there?" i'm wondering damn! why am i still entertaining him?
SHOULD I BLOCK HIM OR AM I OVERDRAMATIC?

so basically i been talking to this boy for a while. backstory cuz they're imporant, me and these two girls have a class together and one day they came to my other class and basically was like "this boy wanna talk to you" and i was like whatever probably not me, but i followed him on ig and he immediately followed back and was like "hey ive seen you around school n i think u cute" so i was like whatever, and since that day we been talking,
he admitted he liked me. in text, he was like "i just really like you and wanna get to know you more" and he had a long list of reasons he liked me. so, its not like we've just been talking, he has admitted that he has a crush on me. ALSO, he told me he would follow me to classes, look in my classes to see me occasionally, and he asked some of his female friends for help on finding out who i was.
he comes to my classes to say hi to me because we dont got classes together. but he got suspended cuz something and i noticed like i understand responding can be a lot for some people, like mentally so i understand. but i just personally felt like you're suspended and he would rant to me about how he was bored n didn't have shit to do, so why are u taking 3-7 hours to text back...whatever, alright.
now, let me just say i totally believe men and women can be friends. i totally believe that! but when he's posting a photo on ig and there are multiple girls commenting calling him nicknames, commenting hearts, etc, i just wonder "hmm" but whatever! i try not to get jealous, i believe men and women can be friends.
but when youre posting on your story a girl in her prom dress, with a big ass red heart in the middle, with the lyrics to ariana grande's intro (end of the world), i wonder, what the fuck? cuz why have you admitted you liked me, stalked me, but you're posting "If the sun refused to shine. baby, would I still be your lover? would you want me there?" i'm wondering damn! why am i still entertaining him?
SHOULD I BLOCK HIM OR AM I OVERDRAMATIC

TLDR; This guy I don’t really know clearly has feelings for me. He seems sweet but I’m hesitant because I’m trans and his parents are apparently conservative. Guy is also trying a bit too hard and recently tried to impress me by potentially lying about being a fan of theater.
Heya, so I’m curious to see what people’s thoughts are on a little… situation I’m in. I (transmasc Junior) realized recently that a classmate (male Junior) almost certainly has feelings for me. I’ll call him “Kay” for now. Let me explain.
In my 6th period, I don’t really interact with people much. I’m certainly not shy, but it’s one of those core classes that has a mix of everyone and non of your usual crowd, so you end up struggling to make friends. Theres this small group of guys that I get along fairly well with, they’re accepting of my identity, really chill, and just the kind of dorks that I love surrounding myself with. Because I’ve always sorta had those four, I’ve never breached out to the rest of the class. Which is why it was unusual when another guy (who istg I had NEVER interacted with) approached me while we were changing seats for assigned groups and suddenly said hi. This is Kay.
It was a simple greeting and I thought nothing of it. I asked if he was in my assigned group, and he didn’t really respond and awkwardly shuffled away. Alright, a little weird, but nothing harmful and I forgot about it.
Two days later, the whole class is waiting outside for our teacher to show up and open the door. Kay suddenly approaches me and asked how I was. Reminder that I DON’T KNOW THIS GUY. I didn’t even know his NAME until a week after our first interaction when I overheard the teacher call him. He knew mine though, and I ended up feeling ridiculously guilty for it for that week I was trying to figure out what was happening.
Anyway, I digress.
When he asked me how I was, I was honest and told him I was looking forward to going home because of how tired I was from rehearsals. He asks about what I was rehearsing for, and I explained that I’m in my theater classes’s final show where we host it entirely on our own. But because of how little time we were given, we’ve been hauling ass with rehearsals that last from right after school until 7:30 at night. Then he did something that no one has ever done to me before:
He asked me to save him a ticket. He WANTED to go to this play I was in. No one besides immediate family ever wanted to go to a production I was in. Like… fuck, okay, if that isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is. I told him that I’d let him know when tickets went live.
Flash forward to that following Monday, our teacher spontaneously decided to change up the seating layout in her classroom and told people to sit wherever they wanted that day. I took a random seat and Kay sits, not next to me, but like a table over. I guess trying to not be too obvious? But then he hits me with this ringer “Hey Evan! How was your weekend” It was alright “Did you go to prom?” (Prom was that previous weekend)
Woah.
Now that felt like he just asked me if I was single.
So I tell him “Nah, not this year. But I will next year, for sure.”
His response? “Oh! Well, if you’re not going with anyone, maybe we could go together next year?” Then followed by the quick backtrack of: “As friends!”
Oh. Oh he is stupid. But it’s a kind of cute stupid that I don’t actually mind all that much. It’s sort of endearing how silly it is.
We don’t interact too much after that, I would note that during a class debate where we were split into two teams, he and I happened to be on the same team. Really, I was the only one on my team debating (and, not to brag, but to totally I won my team the debate and I was arguing the opposite of what I actually believed in), but he was the only one who tried to pitch in. Now what he said was out of pocket and didn’t match the stance I was going with at all, but it was sweet how he tried to help. He even leaned over after everything was said and done and thanked for winning the debate for my team.
Really, he seems sweet, but I barely know him. All I know is that he’s in the Medical Technology classes (based on how he wears scrubs once in a while) and apparently plays Call of Duty because he asked if I played. I might download it, just in case he asks again. I’m not the type to fall head over heels quickly. It takes me time. Especially as a trans guy who needs to be careful who they befriend and date because I never know what someone’s opinions of me or my identity is. Or if they even realize I am trans. I dress rather androgynous, leaning towards masculine, and my hair goes down to my collar bone in a sort of wolf-cut mullet thing. I’m short. I don’t passes very well, a lot of people tend to think I am just a bit androgynous rather than transmasc. I should be starting hormone replacement therapy later this summer, but this guy doesn’t know that. Sure I’m not traditionally feminine in the slightest and he has to be okay with that if he’s got a thing for me now. But does he know to what extent that goes? Is he just hoping for a tomboy girlfriend and not a boyfriend? Fuck, man, I don’t know.
With Kay, I’m particularly concerned because when I brought this up in my Theater class, I got two different responses which were not… great. One of my classmates literally squealed “EW!” because apparently he wasn’t a great guy in middle school. But I’m willing to see past that since that was 3+ years ago. People change and middle school tends to bring out the worst in everyone (middle schoolers are VICIOUS). But then my teacher had this sort of “Oh no…” kind of look. She explained that he’s a sweet guy, but his family is also extremely conservative. However, his older brother is apparently gay, so there’s that. Does he take after his brother or his parents? I genuinely have no clue, but I am praying to whatever got that is out there that he’s the former.
So yeah. Terrified of giving this guy a chance. I’m not disinterested, I want to give it a chance, get to know him before deciding how I feel because I literally have no way of knowing until we can have actual conversations beyond “how was your day?”
Then there’s today. We had another short “how are you” conversation and I told him I was stressed (again, because of my show), and he laid it on heavy that he was hoping to go, and I told him “Yeah! I remember you asking me to save you a ticket, but I’m not confident in its quality right now. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a theater production, but if you haven’t I wouldn’t want this one to be your first.”
He responds with: “Oh no, it’s not my first time, I’ve seen Hamilton and the nutcracker and stuff like that. I like theater.”
I was so excited at first because I thought he genuinely had an interest in Theater, but then a minute later I realized we saw both of those shows in our history class: one was Hamilton on Disney+ and we watched it when we were learning about the Revolution and what not, the other was when we saw a Ballet troupe perform the Nutcracker in our theater because our teacher was a guest dancer in it.
This. Mother fucker. Pretty much lied to my face to impress me. I don’t know if I should feel flattered that he’s trying so hard or insulted that he thought I’d fall for it.
I don’t even know how I feel. I almost want to just call him out and tell him to just ask for my number instead of trying to be someone he’s not to impress me. I might just do that. I’ll think about it.
Anywho, give me your thoughts on the situation. I’m at a loss, and tbh, my friends aren’t being the most helpful. Meanwhile my mom is telling me to play hard to get, which just feels cruel considering how hard he’s already trying.

It all started on April Fools... There was this (Bi) guy who I was crushing on for a bit. I came up with a plan to kinda get him to start thinking of us in a relationship context. I planned this April Fools prank where he and I would pretend to be dating. We texted a lot to plan this out (me more than him) and I would say things like "How do you think we would act as a couple" to get him thinking about us. The prank worked and the victim thought it was funny but that's beside the point. Two days later, I was hanging out with him and our friend group and I noticed that he kept whispering to my friend (the prank victim). My mind immediately went to the worse but I just ignored it. When I got home, my friend texted me asking if I liked him. I said no since I tend to be a little too vocal about who I'm crushing on. She then called me and told me that the thing that they were whispering about was that he found me cute and wanted to ask me to prom! I immediately changed my text to a yes so that she could send it to him and start something. I was so surprised because he is like SO out of my league but she told me that he thought that I was out of his league. This was one of the happiest days of my life. It was the first time I ever felt attractive inside and out.
So some time passed, I never really see him that much at school but when I did see him, I would be so overtly nice to him (y'know the vibes). But here is where the story takes a shift. I get another text message from my friend, a lot more serious this time. She tells me what he is looking for in terms of relationships. She said that he didn't want anything before college (implying that he wanted to fuck around in college). She told me that he didn't want to take me to prom anymore and just like that, all hope was lost. I told her that if there were any updates she shouldn't tell me since I didn't want to go through the pain of knowing since I wasn't even supposed to know that he was into me in the first place. Every moment with him was so awkward. He doesn't know that I know that he knows that I like him. He would still do things that suggested that he liked me. We took photobooth photos together (like the ones in arcades), he would always be next to me, and he wiped the ranch dressing off my chin. So my hope rekindled a little.
This last part all happened within 4 days. I got a notification from him saying that he sent an image. I opened it and it was a drawing (he's an artist). It is a drawing of him, holding a bouquet of roses with the text "I think you're sweet and I hope that you will say yes to being my platonic partner to prom." Platonic. Who knew I could hate one word that much? I said yes, out of desperation. I didn't even know what it meant. How can someone be a platonic date to prom? I assumed that our friend group was going with each other as platonic dates. My friends told me that this was a good thing since it was kinda like a one-time date at prom but no relationship. I was just stuck on how the word "platonic" could be in the same image as a bouquet of roses. But whatever, I was happy that this could have led to something.
But once again, that hope faded. Today, he said to our friend group's group chat that he asked out this girl he met a while ago. It was as if I didn't even exist. Like those moments of hope were just a dream. The part that hurt the most was that I was replaced by a girl. She doesn't even go here! I thought I could escape the fate of the hopeless gay teen. I feel like I should confront him but I don't even know where to start. This whole situation is so complicated and I'm not even sure if I articulated it right. If u have any advice, thoughts, questions etc, feel free to lmk. Sorry this was too long and/or too sad lmao.
Tl;dr: I had hope that a crush liked me enough to go to prom with me but he just asked a girl out on a date.
(If any part doesn't make sense, lmk and ill edit it if im not busy lamenting lmao)

Title: "Cult of the Cherry Blossoms"
In the bustling metropolis of Tokyo, there exists an unusual high school known as "Sakura Academy." Hidden behind cherry blossom trees, this school harbors a secret: its students are reincarnated cult leaders from history. Let's meet our four protagonists:

1. Fiona Phelps – The fiery redhead and leader of the "Westboro Blossoms." She's passionate about picketing school events, but instead of signs that read "God Hates Fags," she now holds up signs that say "Free Hugs."
   
2. Daisy Koresh – The mysterious transfer student with piercing blue eyes. She heads the "Branch Divas" club, where they practice fire dancing during lunch breaks. Her sermons now involve encouraging self-love and acceptance.
   
3. Juniper Jones – The charismatic girl who can convince anyone to drink the school cafeteria's questionable milk. She's the head of the "Jonestown Tea Society," where they brew herbal concoctions and discuss world peace.
   
4. Lily Hubbard – The brainy girl who always has her nose in ancient scrolls. She leads the "Scientology Scholars," researching past lives and auditing their classmates' chakras. Her catchphrase: "Clear your mind, clear your acne."
   

Episode 1: "Cherry Blossom Revelation"
The girls discover their true identities during a cherry blossom viewing party. Fiona, Daisy, Juniper, and Lily gather under the blooming trees, their memories awakening like petals unfurling.
"We were cult leaders?" Fiona gasps, adjusting her flower crown.
"I remember now," Daisy says, her eyes distant. "The compound, the flames...and the dance-offs."
"I used to preach about the end of the world," Juniper admits. "Now I just want a decent cup of tea."
Lily pores over her scrolls. "Our past lives hold the key to enlightenment. And maybe algebra."
As the girls navigate high school life, they face challenges:

• Club Recruitment: Fiona recruits members for the "Free Hugs Club," but her signs confuse everyone. Daisy's fire dancing auditions attract the fire department.
  
• Prom Night: Juniper insists on a "Kool-Aid" punch bowl for prom, causing panic among the teachers. Lily calculates the odds of romance using ancient numerology.
  
• Rival Cults: The "Heaven's Cheerleaders" (formerly Heaven's Gate) challenge them to a cheer-off. Fiona's pom-poms read, "Love and Tolerance."
  

"We're not just teenage girls," Daisy says one day. "We're rewriting our legacies."
"And maybe," Juniper adds, "we'll find enlightenment in trigonometry."
As cherry blossoms fall, the "Cult of the Cherry Blossoms" dances its way into the hearts of Tokyo. Their motto: "Live, laugh, and lead—without the brainwashing."
And so begins their extraordinary journey—a mix of teenage drama, spiritual awakening, and a dash of absurdity. Because even cult leaders deserve a second chance...and a good slice of cherry blossom cake.
Disclaimer: This anime is purely fictional and meant for entertainment. Any resemblance to real cult leaders is coincidental. Please don't try fire dancing at home. 🔥🌸
The anime characters were inspired by real-life cult leaders, but their traits are fictionalized. Here's the breakdown:

1. Fiona Phelps (Westboro Blossoms): Based on Fred Phelps of the Westboro Baptist Church. In the anime, she's fiery and passionate about picketing, but now holds signs that say "Free Hugs."
   
2. Daisy Koresh (Branch Divas): Inspired by David Koresh of the Branch Davidians. Mysterious and with piercing blue eyes, she leads fire dancing sessions and preaches self-love.
   
3. Juniper Jones (Jonestown Tea Society): Modeled after Jim Jones of the Jonestown cult. Charismatic and obsessed with tea, she now seeks world peace instead of mass suicide.
   
4. Lily Hubbard (Scientology Scholars): A brainy girl like L. Ron Hubbard, founder of Scientology. She researches past lives and audits classmates' chakras.
   

Remember, this is all fictional fun! 😊🌸
Certainly! Let's introduce three more female cult leaders to "Cult of the Cherry Blossoms":

1. Sakura Asahara (Aum Shinrikyo Sisters): Sakura is the enigmatic transfer student with an affinity for chemistry. She brews mysterious potions in the science lab, hoping to find enlightenment without the sarin gas. Her catchphrase: "Alchemy over anarchy."
   
2. Harmony Jeffs (FLDS Flower Maidens): Harmony, the soft-spoken girl, leads the "Flower Maidens." They wear pastel dresses and practice synchronized gardening. Instead of polygamy, they promote sisterhood and sustainable farming.
   
3. Kiku Raniere (NXIVM Navigators): Kiku is the tech-savvy genius who runs the "NXIVM Navigators" club. They optimize schedules, track chakra progress on spreadsheets, and offer self-improvement workshops. Her motto: "Empowerment through Excel."
   

These leaders add a delightful twist to Sakura Academy's already eccentric student body! 🌸

Pretty simple I’m a senior who switched junior year , I have no friends and I’m not just saying that I can’t think of anyone I could go with and the people I did either don’t want to or have their own prom night plans. I have fomo when it comes to things people tell me I’ll regret (like missing senior prom ). I wouldn’t really care if I missed it but I know once I see the posts I might. But why would I buy a expensive dress and $100 ticket with no friends or date to remember the night with. Plus major anxiety when it comes to not having someone along side them when everyone else does. Anyways should I go alone and sucks up not having friends and feeling embarrassed or just not worry about it and let the fomo hit me.

Every year I’m confronted with the decision of whether to talk about the Met Gala. And it can be a tough decision if I’m being totally honest - on one hand, it’s always easy to point and laugh at rich Leftists wearing weird costumes and making fools out of themselves; on the other hand, it’s gotten way too easy to do that, and as far as celebrity freak shows go, the Met Gala is sort of like the Oscars at this point: its supposed “unpredictability” is now cliche, its zaniness is now boring. Unless mayhem breaks out—say, like an actor slaps the presenter live on-stage or something like that—then the truth is that no one really cares about any of these events anymore - in fact, I’m still not even sure what the Met Gala is. All I know is that the celebrities dress strangely and then go into I guess a big museum. What do they do inside the museum? Is there some kind of award ceremony? Is it a dance? Is it like celebrity prom or something? Do they sacrifice a live goat and drink its blood while chanting satanic curses? Is it some combination of these things? Nobody knows for sure. And most of all, nobody cares.
But fortunately, something interesting did happen at the Met Gala last week, or at least outside of it. Mobs of pro-Palestine demonstrators, apparently bored of their tent cities on college campuses, slowly marched through Manhattan towards the Met, and when they arrived, they tore down the police barricades and flooded the street.
Just for fun, here’s Lizzo dressed like something that you might find inside an unflushed toilet at Panda Express, and that’s what she wore to the Met Gala while riots raged outside in a clash of poor commies versus rich commies, as Peachy Keenan put it. These riots should also bring to mind I think some immediate logistical considerations that the Democratic Party now has to think about - for one thing, it’s safe to say that planning for the Democratic National Convention is going through some last-minute revisions right about now. Just imagine being in charge of security for the DNC; you’re gonna need bigger barricades than they had at the Met, and probably a lot more cops.
But more barricades and cops aren’t gonna fix the underlying problem that the Democratic Party has created here. There’s now a full-on uprising on the Left against the elitism that Democrats have long embraced - and the media is getting involved, too. Yahoo, for example, has already turned on the Met Gala; they just published a piece declaring, “The Met Gala’s Opulence Is Always Gross. This Year, It’s Obscene.”
Now, the whole article is a rant that hits a crescendo with this paragraph, which is probably the single-longest run-on sentence I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Here it is, this whole thing is one sentence, just so you know:

Even in an era filled with the horrors of late-stage capitalism run amok—bipartisan support for genocide; rolling back of reproductive, civil, and voting rights; a threadbare social safety net; decades of wage stagnation; tax cuts for the the rich; the crushing of unions and labor rights; expansion of the militarized police surveillance state; creeping techno-authoritarianism; untested, unregulated, and unchecked A.I.; entrenched racial inequality and injustice; right-wing and white supremacist extremist violence; and Boeing jet parts falling from the sky like so many dead whistleblowers—that kind of frivolous urgency promises that this year’s event nonetheless will stand out as a vainglorious display of self-congratulatory decadence and tone-deaf extravagance.

Now, first of all, just as a stylistic matter, if you’re going to make a sentence that long, it needs to be coherent. And “Boeing jet parts are falling from the sky like so many dead whistleblowers?” That doesn’t even make sense; the dead whistleblowers didn’t fall from the sky. I mean, they’re not being pushed out planes. One of them shot himself allegedly and the other died of an illness. Now, even if you subscribe to the theory that Boeing’s hitmen killed these whistleblowers—which, who knows, maybe they did—the fact remains that they didn’t fall from the sky. They died on the ground, so the metaphor just doesn’t work. And this is the problem you get into with 100-word sentences: eventually, you just lose track of what you’re saying.
In any event, that whole massive paragraph could be summed up as saying, “We’re living through late-stage capitalism right now.” That’s what the Left-wing media is saying. That’s the way that they are framing this, and of course, “late-stage capitalism” is one of their favorite phrases to use these days. And they used to celebrate the Met Gala, but not anymore. Now they’re saying the same thing the demonstrators are, which is that the frivolous elite are partying while Rome burns—which they are, of course—and they’re furious about it, or pretending to be.
Now, what the media and these demonstrators don’t want to admit is that the elitists at this gala—all the celebrities who are dressed like slutty Star Wars villains and so on—are on their team. The celebrities are part of the ruling class, the protesters and media critics are its products and in some cases quite literally its offspring. Now, to be sure, the celebrities and college administrators and the politicians are reluctant to acknowledge that their own Frankenstein monster is turning against them, but that’s exactly what’s happening.
Remember that it was two years ago that AOC showed up to the Met Gala with a “Tax the Rich” gown. There were a bunch of sympathetic news stories highlighting her bravery at the time, and here’s how AOC justified showing up to an event that costs $300,000 per table while equipped with a custom dress, handbag, shoes and jewelry costing more than $2,000.

REPORTER: “You know this dress has a message for this Met Gala, tell me about what that is.”
AOC: “You know, I made a message, it says ’Tax the Rich’ right there, uh, it’s really about having a real conversation about fairness and equity in our system, and I think that this conversation is particularly relevant as we debate over budget and reconciliation down. What we’re talking about, providing working families with child care, healthcare, and meeting the climate crisis [unintelligible]* it deserves. … I think that ultimately, you know, we’re at a very critical point. I think there are some folks who are starting to really understand that this is a very critical conversation for us to be having right now. Other folks have invested interest in not having that conversation, but our point is to keep organizing and keep it going.”*

It’s a really important conversation, AOC says, some people aren’t ready to hear it, but we need to punish rich people, we need to make them as uncomfortable as possible, we need to take their money, and that was the message from AOC, who not incidentally, grew up in a very well-off suburb.
Her whole schtick was always hypocritical and disingenuous, of course, but it turns out that Leftist activists were listening to this rhetoric, I guess, they were taking it seriously, we’ve seen this a lot lately. When Chuck Schumer threatened Supreme Court justices, Leftists showed up at the justices’ homes; when the White House claimed that “trans kids” were being abused, a Leftist shot and killed Christians; when Democrats accused Israel of “genocide,” college students occupied university buildings; now two years after AOC attacked the Met, leftist gathered outside of the building.
This is the escalation that Democrats have primed this country for; it’s now in progress, whether Democrats intended it to happen to THEM or not—which, of course, they didn’t—but that’s not to say that ruling elites are going to roll over and let this happen. I mean, as you saw in that footage, the cops showed up in force and started making arrests the very second that protestors trespassed through the barricades in front of the Met. They were on the scene immediately.
Now, that’s kind of a noticeable contrast when compare it to other things like when these people set up encampments on college campuses, they were given in most cases a few days, maybe a week, before the cops moved in; when they looted and burned poor neighborhoods, they were given about three months to inflict carnage before anyone did anything about it; but when they showed up at the Met Gala, they were given three SECONDS before the arrests started. So it really shows you kind of how the hierarchy works.
The Democrats can’t protect the rest of the country from these mobs, nor do they intend to. So last night, in addition to creating a scene at the Met Gala, Leftists also vandalized a World War I memorial in New York and torched an American flag in front of it.
So please note, again, the contrast, the hierarchy, and the fact that this was happening at the exact same time as the Met Gala thing - REALLY shows you where the priorities are when you notice what kinds of illegal demonstrations the police will stop and which demonstrations they’ll allow to continue. The mob can deface World War I memorials all they want because in doing so, they’re communicating their hatred for this country and everything it stands for. So the Democrats who run New York aren’t going to stop them. But the mob isn’t allowed to inconvenience celebrities at the Met under any circumstances.
The point is that this is the hierarchy that Democrats clearly want to enforce. The trouble is getting the mob to RESPECT the hierarchy, and the Democrats are having trouble with that at the moment.
Yet they still seem oblivious, the Democrats are—or acting oblivious, at least—to the fact that they created this monster themselves, and that’s why inside the Met, as chaos unfolded outside, the party continued uninterrupted, and so did all of this associated weirdness, which was as off-putting as it’s ever been - take for example this decoy costume worn by someone using the name “Karol G.” Now, apparently she wanted to keep her real costume a secret, so earlier in the evening, she sported this beige umbrella-looking lampshade thing instead.
Now, imagine being a hardcore, AOC-loving Leftist who sees this - Democrats have spent the last several years telling you to despise rich people and commit crimes in the name of political activism, and then down the street from your hippy commune at the local university, some celebrity is walking around in a lampshade costume which probably costs $50,000 or something, and the entire Democratic Party establishment is pretending that it’s all normal. What do you do? How would you view the Democratic Party establishment after seeing this?
Now, as for the costume itself, of course, it’s clearly a bid for attention, and I guess it worked—I’m talking about it—but it’s not even an original idea - as a lot of people have pointed out, the outfit bears a striking resemblance to a certain shower curtain costume from the film “Karate Kid,” only with different colors, so there’s really no redeeming qualities whatsoever here, it’s a total debacle all around.
But to be fair, there was at least some originality on display last night - for example, this celebrity apparently walked through a wind tunnel full of roses somewhere before arriving at the Met, and for her trouble, Vogue named her as one of the best-dressed women of the evening.
We can assume again that this… woman?… paid many thousands of dollars for that outfit, which is just a trench coat with flower peddles and glitter glued onto it. It really looks like something a four-year-old girl might make. As everybody knows, in the mind of a four-year-old girl, anything and everything can be made prettier with copious amounts of glitter and flowers, which is a fine mentality for a small child; doesn’t translate very well in this case. And as self-congratulatory as it is, again, there’s no self-awareness whatsoever - it’s almost as if the entire purpose of the event is to celebrate the elites’ total inability to detect how preposterous, self-absorbed, and laughable they are.
An this is nothing new, it’s been the case since the Met Gala was established, it’s always been a mini-theater of the absurd. What’s changed is that the voting base of the Democratic Party isn’t laughing along with these clowns as much anymore. They turned against the universities; now they’ve turned against Hollywood. What the protesters of course don’t understand is that they have inherited their own worldview and everything they believe from these very institutions and these very people.
Hollywood and Academia don’t realize that they’re being attacked by their own Frankenstein, but the Frankenstein monster also doesn’t realize that it IS the Frankenstein monster. And if Frankenstein ever wakes up to that fact, well then the ruling class will really be in trouble.

my ,F16 (first) prom was saturday(this year was the one i planned to be big since i know ill be busy with collage and work next year), my dad booked a concert for his birthday sunday(mothers day) months ago, which my mom agreed to and my grandmother is dying of cancer. she started a now over 12 hr long argument with us for having fun, with her we thought, instead of catering to her all day. my dad had to take me prom dress shopping (she said she was sick even though she was fine until we were supposed to be leaving), he had to take me to get my hair styled and i had to beg her to get our nails done and she still told me how miserable she was the whole time during that, but i was supposed to cater to her? i do all the housework anyway and help my dad cook, i specifically dealt with the laundry and dishes at the rental we were at so she wouldnt have to. also she left the concert so she coulsnt get back in so we all had to leave because of her tantrum only halfway thoug ( i also got clay to make her a gift when i had the chance bc i dont have any money but ive been so busy ive barely gotten 6hrs of sleep a night) AITA?

Is there a good quality goth store in Toronto or a nearby city? I'm looking for a gothic prom dress and a corset. I'm in Kingston but I'm willing to travel.

Trying to fing a white prom dress or wedding dress online but I want to make sure the fabric will be able to be altered? What brands to buy and what ones to stay away from?