Does kendall schmidt wear skinny jeans

I see advice for 8's to wear straight cut trousers instead of tapered or 'skinny' styles, but I usually just feel extra wide if I wear straight cuts and still prefer to wear my tapered slacks and skinny jeans. 🤷‍♀️

Noah The Pilgrim
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'Noah.'
You can't feel your body, you try to move but receive no feedback from your arms and legs. You open our eyes, or were they always opened? It's difficult to tell when only darkness surrounds you.
'You're here again.'
It's that same voice you heard before waking up in that pod. You try to speak but fail. It feels like you left your body behind, existing only inside your mind.
'Allow me.'
From the dark, a circle of light emerges, filling your vision. The light is not blinding, nor is it too bright to obfuscate the dark, it's just bright enough to reach your eyes without prompting discomfort.
It's the Star. That much, you know for certain.
Normally, you'd feel hopelessly scared, but somehow, all you feel is soothed by its light.
'I remember telling you we wouldn't see each other for a long time. Why are you here?'
Although you wished to answer the question, you could not. Both because you have no control over your body, and because you don't know the answer.
'...'
You recall the AI telling you the purpose of the ship you're in. It was to study this star.
Why? What's so special about this particular star? Sure, it's on the very edge of the ever-expanding universe, but aside from that, it's just a star. A very odd-looking star, but a star nonetheless.
'What's so special about me... Nothing.'
A shiver runs down your spine. It feels as though you've forgotten a significant thing about yourself, and you're sure this star has something to do with it.
'How are you feeling, Noah?'
Like shit. That is what you wanted to answer.
You've been going with the flow ever since you woke up in that pod, not asking yourself neither how or why you've been put in that place, only nodding your way to the bridge.
You've been bombarded with memories that you're sure aren't yours, but your own memories also feel shrouded in a thick haze, and yet, you didn't bother to even think about why it was, only accepting that as truth without understanding this strange phenomenon.
When confronted with things beyond your current knowledge you refuse to acknowledge it by not asking yourself what it is, or by illuding yourself into thinking it's a dream.
Even now, you refuse to acknowledge this impossible place you've found yourself in.
'Why is it that you turn away?'
What to blame for that? You didn't even feel the need to ask anything about yourself. Randomly remembering things as though you were reading them off a manual, taking whatever FYARN says as an absolute truth, and not even reacting to the abhorrent state of the Odyssey.
When FYARN told you about the relationship between the alien and the human races, it told you how superior humans were, and it also told you that the human race lost the war. You didn't bother to call out that clear discrepancy then because you felt as though it didn't concern you, despite being clearly at the forefront of that conflict.
When FYARN asked what you remembered, you simply stated you didn't remember nearly anything, and yet you've made no strive to fix that issue, accepting it as the absolute truth.
All there was left to blame was yourself.
'You're doing it again, turning away from the truth.'
Was it because your situation was impossibly bizarre?
Waking up in a half-blown spaceship could be enough to drive a man to the brink with how random and impossible that notion was. Especially when that man was just a salary man, living month to month, working an unfulfilling job, all while being called the best.
'Perhaps. But I believe that the issue lies much, much deeper.'
The utter darkness shifts and contorts unexplainably. Moving shadows take formless shapes before you. From black to grey, and from grey to different shades of it. Those shapes of impossible geometry cast shadows downwards, as the star stared at you from above.
The shapes expanded and contracted into euclidean and understandable structures. Tall rectangular towers filled the horizon, decorating a path akin to buildings in a busy city.
On the foot of one of those structures, you see a man dwarfed by the sheer size of the scenery.
'Who do you think that is?'
You approach him.
You see a young man that looks to be in his mid-twenties. Your brown eyes stare back at it, analyzing the bags beneath his eye sockets. The dark hair is neither too long nor too short, hastily combed to hide the laziness behind his look. You see a beard that has not been trimmed for weeks, but also lacks thickness, each singular hair isn't particularly long either; and some even appear to be in-grown.
He's wearing a white tuckered-in buttoned shirt with a pair of jeans. A black backpack weighed on his back as he walked through this empty street.
A position you could imagine yourself in, every day of the week.
If you had failed to piece together who that was, it became clear once you noticed the empty look on his face.
It's obvious who that is.
He is a man whose bright dreams have been crushed under the weight of mankind.
How cruel, to be forced to gaze into a dirty mirror...
'You are starting to see it. Let's go further.'
The ractangular towers floated away, as the man continued to walk into the grey void.
Four white walls covered both you and the man, grey shapes transformed into a chair and desk, inviting the man to sit on it.
It was a plain desk and a plain chair, and when the shapes stopped transmogrifying themselves, a plain computer, monitor, keyboard, and mouse rested atop the desk.
Fitting for a plain man. You watch him sitting down in the chair, putting his backpack on the floor beneath the table.
From the backpack, he conjured a notebook and a set of pencils and erasers. He quickly turned the computer on.
This was his job.
The monitor remained grey despite how the man typed on the keyboard. The notebook remained grey despite how the man scribbled on it with the pencil.
A humanoid figure came to be from the geometric mess of grey nearby. It passed by the working man. "G'day Noah." It spoke, as he vanished into the white walls that surround you.
The man didn't bother to respond, he didn't bother to stop his work, and he didn't even bother to look up from his notebook.
Another humanoid figure passed by, holding what looked to be sheets of paper. "Hey Noah, could you sort these documents out for me? I'm swamped today..."
The man looks at the thick collection of papers in the figure's hands. He just started his shift and already lacks the energy and motivation to keep going with his day.
And despite that, he did not want to disappoint.
He points to the empty space on his desk, motioning for the figure to leave it there.
The figure places the paperwork on the man's desk. "Thanks, I owe you big time for this!" After saying that, the figure disappeared into the white walls of the room.
He did not speak a singular word.
You recall this... Feeling.
'Do you remember their names, Noah?'
You could not.
'Do you remember their faces, Noah?'
You could not.
'These people, you used to see them every day. Why do you not know who they are?'
What was the point of it? Why did it matter? Why did they matter?
'Because they are people.'
To you, those figures were nothing but placeholders for those who did the same thing as you. They were nothing special, just like you. So why bother to recall their faces?
'We must go further.'
The white cubicle ceased to be, alongside the man in plain clothing.
The towering rectangles swiftly returned, and with it came a young adult in his early twenties.
Your brown eyes stare back at his. The short dark hair looked as though it was combed for hours until it was perfect. You see a trimmed beard, neatly cut with a blade most sharp. You see that his face has been recently subjected to a daily skin-care regime.
This young man looks to be full of energy.
He's wearing a white tuckered-in buttoned shirt with a pair of jeans. A black backpack was strapped to his back as he walked through this empty street.
Again, you know who this is, yet you don't have the guts to accept it.
'...'
The ringing tune of a cell phone came from the young man's pockets. He promptly picked it up.
"Hey, Noah!" You hear the voice coming from the other side of the call. "The boys and I are going to throw a party today in my place to celebrate finishing high school. You better show up tonight!" It sounds like the voice originates from a man. He is yelling at the phone.
You watch as the young man smirks. "You can bet I'll be there." He answered. "I'll be done with today's interview and head there as soon as possible."
"Great... Something came up, catch you later bud!" And just like that, the call ended. The young man pocketed his phone.
You know how the rest of that day went. The young man passed the interview and secured his spot in a large IT company, then he went to his friend's place and had the best night of his life.
Those memories were the ones you revisited endlessly.
The grey shapes and humanoid figures vanish, returning to utter blackness.
Once again, all you see is the star.
'What happened, Noah?'
You couldn't say. Maybe it wasn't some big thing that happened, but rather a large quantity of small things that eventually crashed down upon you like an avalanche that built up for a long time.
Friends leaving to live their own lives.
Underappreciation of your career.
Your incapacity to form meaningful relationships.
The feeling of being small in the greater scheme of things.
The notion of your life being wasted for nothing.
A lack of accomplishment that was caused by a lack of problems.
You letting your physical appearance go.
But, even amongst all of those aggravating motives, there was one thing that always pained your heart to even recall. For that reason, you refused to acknowledge and even think about it. A trend that would continue for the upcoming years of your life.
Your dream.
Once adulthood came and expectations weighed on you, you had to choose. Live a comfortable life, or throw it all away in exchange for an idea that probably wouldn't even work, to begin with.
You refused to let go at first. Holding unto what little hope there was left for that dream of yours.
In three short years, your life shifted completely.
Friends grew distant, and now all you had as a replacement for them were faceless figures who spoke to you about a job you never really wanted.
Those very same figures held you in high regard, always saying how talented you were or how impressive your skills were. In truth, you never felt like what you did was worth the effort or the praise.
All you ever did in that company was half-assed at best, yet they praised you like their savior. You grew complacent under those who put you on a pedestal.
Your salary increased, and so did the responsibilities, but never were it challenging or engaging. It felt tasteless and odorless.
You refused to even respond to small talk from those people. How could you? If you did, they would shower you with praises you didn't deserve. That theory was proven time and time again.
All you did every day was sitting on a chair, eyes glued to the screen to meet an assortment of numbers and labels. This was nothing. There were people out there, changing the world, fixing the real problems, and you're there, sorting out numbers for a company created to sort out data for a company created to sort out data.
A null uroboros.
Twenty-eight years of a human's life, and for what? To waste away like a gear on a machine?
You remained ignorant of your ignorance. There were no problems since you had more than enough money from your ever-increasing salary you felt you didn't deserve.
You couldn't even bring yourself to quit, afraid to face the consequences, afraid to be replaced. A fact you understood fully well, yet you refused to acknowledge.
Clinging to a feeling of guilt, you couldn't help but hold on to this life. Your life, Noah.
You longed for a change, but wouldn't bring yourself to change it.
Your dream that you lived for so long ago, is something you couldn't even remember. You hid it away in a dark corner of your mind, hoping to never face it again, or else you would break down.
That is what happened.
The coldness of the world is what happened.
You wouldn't go as far as to say that you were a victim of fate.
Instead, you'd say you were a victim of yourself.
'And yet, you're here now. In an impossible place. In an impossible life.'
Are you to waste away on this place as well?
'You had conviction, but lacked guidance.'
Can you even muster that much courage? You fear what the future could bring.
'I presented you this chance for a reason, so you may show them that your soul is the brightest of them all.'
Fear is born for there is hope, but bravery is born for there is fear. You recall someone telling you that once, but...
'Remember this, Noah.'
Where does the courage to take a step forward come from? When it's so dark that you can't see the path ahead, how should one muster enough courage to make the right call?
'Whenever you feel lost, or alone; Whenever you feel like there is no way forward;'
Your vision starts to blur. The star begins to fade.
'So you may never lose your way again;'
Looks like it's time to return to reality.
'I, am your...'
This is my first HFY story, and also my very first OC story. I plan to post at least one of these per week while also posting it on my Patreon. Noah The Pilgrim will always be two to three chapters ahead in there, so if you'd like to directly support this writer, or just want to read more, feel free to check it out.
This has been Lushi, and I'll see you next week.

Previous Part
By the time I’d woke up bright and early at 4 A.M., Rocco had amassed an impressive pile of pilfered food in the corner of the tepee. He was just dragging in a turkey leg when I saw him, must’ve been at it all night form the looks of it.
“Rocco, what the hell!”
I shouted, waving my hands at the pile of food he’d brought in.
“I told you to stay out of trouble, lay low. This is… not that!”
I complained, trying to think of how I’d talk my way out of this if anyone asked about the missing food. Rocco simply responded by shrugging, turning around, and diving face first into the mountain of food. I was annoyed at the moment but then I got to thinking. If Rocco stole all that and no one saw him what else could he do without being noticed?
“Hey… hey Rocco no-one saw you stealing all this right?”
I asked, grabbing his tail and dragging him out of the food mountain.
“WHATS DA BIG IDEA!”
He protested, flailing around as I held him in the air by his tail before regaining his composure and adding.
“I’m a profesional, of course I didn’t get seen. Why?! Did someone say something!?
Rocco shot his head from side to side, like he would find someone listening or critiquing his heist. All the movement causing him to spin slowly, still dangling from his tail.
“No, I was just thinking, as long as your out here I could have a job for you.”
I said, setting him down as he answered,
“Whad’ya mean? Spit it out!”
with his classic charm.
“I mean, I want you to sneak into that blonde guy’s tepee. The one with the shitty attitude, Brooke I think his name was. Just see if you can find anything in there.”
I could see Rocco’s interest was peaked but he still had one last all to predictable question.
“What’s in it for me?”
“You keep whatever you find in there no questions asked.”
Before the words even left fully my lips Rocco cried, “DEAL” and sprinted out of the tepee on all fours, leaving me alone.
I wasn’t really sure what the process was now, was Shaoni going to come get us or did she expect us to meet her in the coliseum? I’d never been part of anything like this before, I had no idea what the attendance policy was like. So, lacking anything better to do, I walked down into the mines and waited in the coliseum. It was obvious they were’t really ready for us yet. A few of Shaoni’s people were down there placing cactus looking things into five carved wooden bowls on the floor. Five bowls, five people in these trials so those had to have something to do with us. I looked around the room, trying to find Shaoni. She wasn’t up on her perch like yesterday and she certainly wasn’t part of the small group setting up those bowls. I felt a little different about her now that we’d had a chance to talk. Before I’d been afraid of her, and for good reason, but she seemed to want the opposite of that. Maybe not from me specifically but in general. Although, how could you not be scared of someone who could turn into a giant bird and seemed to consistently be the cause of freak storms. There was a lot of power to her but she didn’t want people to be afraid of it, she wanted respect. I’m sure there was more to her that I hadn’t heard but I certainly was going to hear anything new here.
Seeing as I was still apparently early, I decided not to wear out my welcome in the coliseum. I made my way back out of the mines and settled down back at that canvas tent with the huge table. It was again filled with food that had come from nowhere in particular, probably set up by more of Shaoni’s people. As if to confirm my suspicion, the bandaged man Bianca had stabbed earlier emerged from the camp, walking towards me with a platter of bacon. He starred daggers at me as he placed the platter at the table but didn’t say anything. I was almost tempted to apologize on Bianca’s behalf but I got the sense that wouldn’t be a great idea. Not long after I saw two of the others approaching.
“… Sure, but for some glorified tent it’s still pretty comfortable.”
Brooke said to Katrina who looked thoroughly uninterested in what he had to say.
Brooke wore a… purple suit that made him look like some stereotypical version of a pimp. I couldn’t think of any reason he’d wear that out here, at least no-one would mistake him from anyone else, that ’s for sure. Katrina wore an equally confusing getup, a blue tank top and jeans that made her look kinda like the girl from those tomb raider games. It was about 50 degrees out and probably wasn’t going to get much warmer. If she wanted to freeze, so be it. I gave a slight nod to them as they sat down across from me. Katrina still eyeing Brooke with an expression that begged for him not to open his mouth again.
I couldn’t stop staring at her, no not like that, I was staring at her belt where a holster sat,
“You like it?”
She asked, noticing the staring that I should’ve been trying harder to hide, drawing the handgun from the holster on her hip.
“Beretta M9 semi-automatic pistol, my father’s service pistol actually. Always served me well, so I always keep it on me, well almost always.”
She said with a wink, checking the gun and pulling back its slide. I wasn’t all that familiar with guns but I distinctly saw her flip the safety off. Which had a profound effect on my nerves considering I was staring down its barrel.
“They let you keep that around here? I would’ve thought they take that from you.”
I asked incredulously, still eyeing the gun she had pointed at me.
“I hid it on me yesterday, if they have an issue with it they can try and take it from me. I’m not doing anything like this without some kind of insurance. They get me and Luke or nothing at all.”
She retorted, spinning the gun back into her holster and turning the safety back on with a practiced hand. “Oh that’s cute, she named it” I thought sarcastically as my nerves settled, a loaded gun no longer pointed directly at my face.
“I’m not sure Shaoni would let you leave, even if you wanted to.”
“Oh please! She wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me or she’d have bigger problems coming her way.”
Katrina laughed, throwing her hand back in seemingly genuine amusement. She really didn’t have a care about the Thunderbird? I found that hard to believe.
“So what do you do anyways then? If you’re so sure she wouldn’t touch you.”
I asked incredulously. This seemed to grab her attention as she immediately snapped her head down, locking eyes with me and barking,
“That’s a need to know thing and you don’t.”
Before returning her attention to the food on the table and ignoring me. She was military, that was probably a safe assumption.
Brooke had been listening in to our conversation as he ate. After Katrina snapped at me he finally spoke up.
“So hang on, you came all the way out here with no insurance, no protection? Does anyone even know you’re out here?”
I briefly thought about Rocco, he wasn’t great insurance but he sure came cheap. I hadn’t stopped to think about preparing anything to bring out here with me. I just stupidly assumed everyone was on the same page as me, an unprepared fish out of water.
“No, I guess not.”
I responded, a little shaken at the realization that everyone here was probably more prepared than me.
“You must be stupid or have balls of steel to do something like that.”
Brooke told me, reaching over the table to clap me on the shoulder. I didn’t know if this really was the Brooke Bianca told me about or not but I really did not like this guy. We ate the rest of our breakfast in silence. John and Robert never showed up but I guessed they were down in the mines helping set everything up. I guess being a participate in the trials didn’t exempt Shaoni's followers from having to help get ready for them.
Apparently my guess was right because Robert and John were both already in the coliseum when the three of us arrived. Shaoni was once again up on the balcony and all of the people that had been there earlier were gone. I could clearly see what was in the five bowls now. It was some kind of small cactus thing with a white-pink flower at the top. I’d never seen anything like it before but it did seem a little out of place.
“This is your first trial, the trial of morals. This trial is meant to show us where your morals lie through visions of the past and beyond. Sometimes the plant has a mind of its own though so I don’t expect anyone will have the same experience. Some may not even serve the purpose of the trial but the vision is more important than anything I hoped to learn.”
Shaoni spoke like an announcer from above us.
“There is a plant there for each of you, peyote plants that I had grow for just this occasion. Each of you will eat one of the plants and they will give you visions. You will walk among the spirits and they will show you what you need to see.”
Shaoni finished, like she hadn’t just asked us to take hallucinogenics in an unfamiliar environment surrounded by people we didn’t really trust. I wasn’t a huge fan of being here when I was in control of my faculties but while experiencing a vision, oh no, fat chance. Then again it wasn’t like I had all that much of a choice, I realized just before I opened my mouth to protest.
“Fine but what does that tell you about us? Sure we can go get high for you here but it doesn’t really help anyone.”
Brooke spoke up, taking his usual disrespectful tone with Shaoni.
“I have my ways of knowing, but this experiences is for you. It should tell you more about yourself than it will tell me but I assure you, I will learn something.”
An annoyed but composed Shaoni responded. With that she turned and left us to our task.
“So does anyone want to go first?”
Katrina asked, putting a finger to her nose, inviting anyone else to go first.
“Not so fast sweetcheeks, I don’t trust any of you so how about you take the first crack at it?”
Brooke pointedly suggested. I think Katrina wanted to throw a haymaker at his face right then but I stepped in first.
“What if we all did it at once? Then no one is waiting around and I highly doubt she would let anyone come down here and do anything to us if these trials are that important to her.”
I reasoned, pointing up at the balcony Shaoni had been standing on.
“I still don’t like it but I can live with that, I agree everyone at once like… what’s your name?”
“Keith”
“Everyone at once like Keith said.”
Commanded Katrina, looking everyone in the eye and daring them to challenge her. I didn’t know what she did before coming here but whatever it was gave her a glare even Shaoni would be proud of. No-one hesitated to walk up to their respective bowls and take a bite of the strange pinkish flower at the top of the cactus.
The effects weren’t immediate, John just ate his flower then knelt by his bowl, eyes closed waiting for the vision to come. Robert leaned against the wall looking at his watch, seemingly judging the time before it took effect.
“It’s not my first time with peyote, I’ll probably stay up a little longer than you guys.”
Brooke bragged to the room, taking a seat by his bowl as Katrina and I did the same.
Poetically, Brooke was actually the first of us to go down for the count. I had to resit the urge to stand up and kick the crumpled up purple ball that was formerly Brooke. I don’t think anyone would have stopped me, heck the way Katrina was glaring at him this morning she might’ve joined in. But given what came next it was probably a good idea I didn’t stand. All of a sudden the room began flashing different colors, orange then brown then blue. I felt like I was falling but I hadn’t moved. Eventually a sensation came over me, like I had stood up but I was acutely aware of the fact that my body was really lying on the floor of the coliseum. As my vision cleared I started to recognize things, sights and sounds of a hospital room. It would seem my vision had started by bringing me back to my father.
I inched through the hospital room, sure of what I’d see on the other side of the thin curtain. A heart monitor beeped, just the same as the first and last time I’d been in this room. I saw my father, splayed across the bed no different than the only time I’d been in this room. I’ve always maintained that my family life was generally normal, anything that lay outside of that box of normality could be attributed to my father. He was never what I’d call a good person. Sure, he was never aggressive towards me but it didn't really count for anything. You could tell he never really wanted me. What he did to my mother, that was another story. He came home drunk almost every night and she end up with a black eye or worse at least once a week. Unfortunately for us he had a good job, he paid the bills and my mother and I couldn’t really support ourselves on our own back then. Worse still my mother always told me she put up with it for my sake when I asked her about it. That meant I always felt partially responsible every time I heard a fist meet skin in the room below mine.
My father had ended up in this bed by way of a drunk driving incident. Funnily enough it wasn’t actually his fault. He just so happened to be in the wrong intersection at the wrong time when a box truck plowed right into him. The accident left him with severe brain and spinal damage. It was a sick joke he survived, not a miracle. He’d be on life support from now on. I could’ve made him pay for everything he did with the simple tug of a cable. The only reason I didn’t was that the owner of the company that employed the box truck driver offered to pay all his medical bills. He must not have looked to closely because my fathers insurance was covering all of it. But every week a hefty check came in the mail anyways. As long as he was alive and in that hospital bed, me and my mother could live comfortably. It wasn’t really the right thing to do but I figured it was what my mother deserved after years of putting up with his abuse.
The heart monitor’s shrill beeping focused me back to the situation. I stood over my father’s body, the old urge to just pull the plug washing over me again.
“It would be so easy. Mom’s fine now, you’re managing, why do you still need him?”
I thought to myself, toying with the idea as another voice spoke in my head, Shaoni’s voice.
“He’s earned it, he ruined years of your mother’s life, Its only fair he pay a price for what he did.”
I looked around for the source of her voice but I saw nothing, maybe I was just hearing things, it was just a vision after all right? I looked down to see I was now on the opposite side of the bed, hand reaching toward the cord that powered the life support. Time seemed to move at a crawl, was this really the best option? He was probably solely responsible for the distance between my mother and I, he beat her so many times. Some of the blame for it even sat on my shouldres, would killing him take that away? Could I live with myself if I did this? Knowing I took the easy way out at his expense. No… I couldn’t, it would make me just as bad as him. It just wasn’t right I shouldn’t be the one to decide if he dies. Besides, whatever sliver of sentience remained in him deserved to watch as he shriveled and died in his own way, in some ways that was far worse but he didn’t deserve an easy way out either. The room spun as I made my choice and pulled my hand back from the plug. Sending my vision spiraling as my body collapsed to the cold hospital floor. When I finally fought my way through my spinning vision and back to my feet I was somewhere else. I was in Imalone and if I had to guess it was the night I first saw Shaoni.
I was somewhere in the town square where I got chained into the wooden monstrosity the cultists had made. Shaoni was circling in the sky so I guess I was watching this memory from outside of myself. I was made absolutely sure of this when I saw myself being carried out of the old rotting bar. I watched as the situation played out exactly as I remembered it. Right up until Shaoni landed and came to speak with the one masked cultist. What had been gibberish to me before was suddenly crystal clear english.
“What IS this! You think this is right!? This is what you think I stand for, human sacrifice?!”
Shaoni shouted with such intensity and force I jumped back, looking for a place to take cover.
“Brother Aaron foretold your approach, this outsider wandered in so we thought he would make an excellent gift to you.”
The masked cultist answered, missing the point entirely as Shaoni’s eyes flashed with fury.
“There will be a sacrifice alright, a price must be paid for everything you’ve done here. You have no understanding of what I stand for, You’ve spit in the face of it in fact and for that, each and every one of you will make a sacrifice. Release that poor boy, NOW!”
Shaoni commanded the cultists with a voice so stern I almost ran to try and free the trapped version of myself. None of them budged, they didn’t even seem to realize what kind of danger they were in. Shaoni strode past them over to me where she offered me her all to familiar deal. I was stunned, I never stopped to think that she fully intended to let me go either way. Sure, now I knew that these guys weren’t her usual followers. I still never thought she came here intending to wipe them out. I didn’t really have a chance to dwell on it. Before I knew it Shaoni was transforming again causing a tornado to appear in the middle of town as lightning struck around the area like machine gun fire. As the wall of wind rain and lighting reached me I felt a familiar falling sensation and blacked out again.
When I came to I was back on the cave floor again. I wasn’t sure if I was still in a vision until I felt a sharp kick to my side.
“Oh… that felt… very real. Oh god why?”
I groaned as I looked up at the smirking Katrina.
“He’s awake, that’s everyone then.”
She called out to the rest of the group who were all standing around me. She and the others walked off in the direction of the exit, leaving me there on the floor. With nothing better to do I followed them out. Outside the full moon had shown itself, bathing the camp in shimmering moonlight. Shaoni walked up to greet all of us who’d just collectively decided to just go outside.
“You’ve all made it through it would seem, I hope your experiences weren’t to unpleasant.”
Brooke charged straight past her, I could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. Obviously he’d seen something he didn’t like while he was under the influence of that plant. Katrina seemed completely unaffected, marching by Shaoni filled with the same confidence she had when I first saw her. Robert and John seemed completely unaffected by whatever they had seen but something told me they might be used to it. Me, I wasn’t doing so great. I wasn’t all that pleased about revisiting my father and all those old memories and whatever that flower was called had really done a number on me. I weakly waved to Shaoni as I walked by, just trying to focus on walking straight. She didn’t seem to surprised that none of us wanted to talk to her. She didn’t say anything to us as we all quietly sat and ate. I didn’t like the silence, it felt like everyone was just waiting for something to happen but no-one had any idea what. So I got up and headed back to my tepee, maybe Rocco had turned something up on Brooke.
Rocco was waiting for me atop his mountain of food when I got back.
“I found somethin yous might be interested in”
He said triumphantly, waving around a polaroid photo he had clutched in his paw.
“Give that to me!”
I snapped, ripping it right out of his paw.
“Well someones in a mood.”
“Getting drugged will do that to you.”
I snapped as Rocco stared at me, paws on his hips like he was about to give me attitude.
“I’m sorry My heads still just spinning from… well everything today.”
I sighed, holding my head in one hand as I shook it. Apologizing to a raccoon, my life really was something wasn’t it? I looked down to the picture enemy hand and immediately ice shot through my veins. It was a picture of Bianca taken not too long ago by the looks of it. She was walking back into her house in the photo and it looked like it was taken from a passing car. The photo itself isn’t what really concerned me though, the message written on the back did that. “What you seek can be found in the town of Eagles Peak”, the note read in a singsongy way. I’d never seen Shaoni’s handwriting but given the circumstances I was sure that’s what I was looking at.
I looked up at Rocco who looked more serious than I’d ever seen him.
“Now I don’t know what happened to that girl but somethin’ hurt her before we knew her. If that’s the somethin’ that did, and I’m guessin’ it is lookin’ atcha’. I say we should hurt em’ back.”
Rocco told me with cold steel in his voice. It was weird, hearing him speak without a hint of a joke or over exaggerated movement. We finally found something that the little menace to society could focus on, something… productive.
“My hands are tied, I don’t think anyone here would take kindly to me just attacking someone. Besides, look at him, he’s taller and obviously stringer than me. I’m just a scrawny guy who’s way out of his element, I don’t want a fight. Just… keep an eye on him, maybe we can find something to turn the others against him?”
It wasn’t the answer Rocco was looking for, that’s for sure. He deflated at my words, I’m sure he wanted to go in guns blazing and confront Brooke with what we thought we knew. That wasn’t really going to be an option here, even if it was I’d rather not do that.
“Oh, one more thing, Don’t let Brooke go back into town if he tries to leave, I don’t care how you do it just don’t let him leave.”
I added as an evil grin crossed Rocco’s face.
“Aye’ aye’ captain!”
He cried, raising a paw to his head and saluting me.
Just then I heard someone knocking, no rustling? Screwing around with the front flap to the tepee trying to get my attention. I opened it only to see, “Shaoni?”
“I wanted to ask about the visions today, I’ve talked to everyone else but I couldn’t find you so I guessed you’d be at… is that a raccoon?”
Shaoni stopped, seeing Rocco frozen mid step behind me as he tried and failed to run before she saw him. Realizing he’d been seen Rocco twirled around and in a way only he could announced,
“Whatcha’ think you were looking at Pocahontas?”
“Oh? It talks as well?”
Shaoni said, somewhere between bewildered and bemused as she looked between me and the mouthy Raccoon.
“Course I talk! I thought you woulda’ seen somethin’ like that when you were busy painting with all the colors of the wind!”
Rocco yelled back at her. I wasn’t sure if he was actually offended by Shaoni’s questions, or just deliberately trying to be a nuisance, probably the second thing. I whirled around and glared at Rocco, holding my finger to my mouth in an attempt to shut him up. For once he actually listened.
“I… sorry about him, he’s always like that, part of his charm you know.”
I said with a shrug and a nervous chuckle. Shaoni shook her head dismissively and continued.
“Did you see anything in the cave that you wanted to talk about?”
She asked me, now sounding a little annoyed. I thought back to my father and that hospital room, I wasn’t really ready to talk about that with anyone just yet. But I did have some new questions about how I got into this whole mess in the first place.
“You said back in Imalone you saved me because I realized there was a price for being saved. That wasn’t really it though was it? I saw it again, I could understand you this time. You were going to save me regardless. So why mark me Shaoni? Why did you really bring me here?!”
I said, my voice raising outside of my control as I spoke. I had to finally admit to myself that I was sick and tired of being dragged around in the dark. I was suddenly furious and I didn’t care who it was standing in front of me, I wanted an answer.
“Those men were ruining my name, they thought they were following the Thunderbird but it was just some idea of me they had come up with. They used me to justify their horrid actions and I came to put a stop to it. You were there and when I offered you a deal you didn’t fight it. That’s why I marked you.”
Shaoni spoke quickly, like she wanted to avoid the subject, all but turning around and leaving right then.
“Bullshit! I want an answer Shaoni, a real answer!”
I yelled at her, my fury taking full control of me. Shaoni was silent for a minute, when she finally spoke she looked down, never meeting my eyes as she softly said.
“You remind me of someone from a long time ago. They were blind to the way of things at first, an outsider even. In time though, he became what bound our people together as one family. I don’t have a better answer for you than that. I wasn’t sure I should’ve chosen you at first, I had a feeling that day and I followed it. What you’ve done since you’ve got here, how you’ve handled learning what little you know about the world of the supernatural. Those things are what tell me I made the right choice.”
As she walked away I thought I saw tears reflecting in the moonlight shown on her face. As I settled down I swore I heard soft sobs, echoing across the camp long into the night.

I am looking at a 2022 Ioniq Limited AWD in Cyber Gray with gray interior. I also wear jeans several days a week and usually get black interiors so there isn't a visible color transfer. I assume there will be color transfer with the gray interior.
My question is, how easily does it clean? While searching I saw people say they use baby or leather wipes. Are there specific brands people use that work better than others?

2 years ago I bought a few pairs of the Everlane original cheeky straight jeans in size 25 and they fit perfectly. Just enough snug right before wearing, then they’d loosen up after 15 minutes. Even the length was maybe an inch too long for my liking, hitting the top of my foot.
Fast forward to today, they literally fit like skinny jeans. The rise is lower by an inch, they’re tight on my calves and thighs, and the length is higher than my ankle. They’re uncomfortable. I wash on cold and hang dry. I am also the same weight. When I hold them up next to one of my newer pairs, they are clearly 2 sizes smaller.
The jeans weren’t cheap. I don’t want to replace them only for this to happen again in 2 more years. I even tried soaking them in fabric softener and doing squats in them while wet. It helped but didn’t fix them enough to make them comfortable again.
What gives? Do all mostly cotton jeans do this or is this unusual?

[2000s/2010s] I used to read this book so much as a kid but what I remember is that the cover may be blue and she goes to a carnival or far where a strange lady paints her and turns her into an awkward geeky girl into someone beautiful overnight. she finds out the next morning after she gets some looks and bends down to fix her the chain on her bike that she rides with her friend every morning. the friend has short hair maybe with a colorful streak in it that changes and she's a protestor who's going on about pesticides I think maybe. she wears Keds i think and is in a friend trio with one other girl who eats raisins to follow this old diet to get skinny and pretty. She is insecure and picky. the FMC hides her new face in a pie from her mother. she lands a deal with a designer or haute couture brand because shes is pretty but for her new clothes she has to say where the clothes are from/ the name of the brand a certain amount of times a day. she falls in the book and because shes pretty they help her up and her old babysitter does too? she has a crush whose house she walks by with a dog I think and they go out to ice cream or tater tots in the book(that could be with the new pretty friend's shes picks up along the way) they go to prom together or at least plan to when she gets pretty. her friends dislike the new change because she begins acting differently and the insecure friend wants to know what she did to get pretty. there's a scene in the bathroom where a girl asks about her blush and perfume and what happened to her and she doesn't understand, she says it's like her features just clicked. would appreciate any leads yall got, please help me find this book!

We’re currently ldr, we have plans for her to move to my state and in with me very soon
So, when she has a question or needs an answer or some help/money, she gets really intense and expects me to answer her right away. Like a text every 2 minutes in flurries of 3 or more texts at a time until I answer. I usually try and respond to her as fast as I can, bc I do love her and I would like to be the reason I can relieve her anxiety and not be the reason she’s having it.
Now, usually she does text back every little bit; we’re adults we don’t needa text all day long. However, there’s days that she just disappears almost and when it comes to me texting her or when I feel upset about something, she doesn’t even care to calm me down and just takes as much times as she feels like taking to get back to me. Today, she was supposed to leave her state at 12:30 today to come to where I’m at so we could move in together and do this whole life thing together. Around 12sh or so, she says something crazy happened and needs a few bucks so I send it to her. Remember, Todays the big day we finally get together and she’s been telling me about how she’s gonna wear this outfit that makes her bootie look thic(amazing kinda thic cuz she skinny) and wear her expensive make up and basically painting the picture of what my new dream will be. I was so fucking excited. Then all of sudden she stops texting me back. I sent her a few texts like ‘yo’? ‘ Hello?’ ‘Ya know when you tell me you’re gonna do something and don’t do it, I get really upset’ Few hours pass and I’m starting to wonder if she even actually cares about me I ask ‘I don’t mind doing all these things for you, but I just don’t understand how you can just ignore someone who does so much for you and act like you don’t care. After 8 hours of nothing I finally just said do I even matter? Like if you lost would you even care?’
Honestly I’m considering just not talking to her for a few days.
When she finally texted me she said ‘I’m sorry dude someone I was close to od’ed in the laundry room and it’s been a horrible day day’
I just said I’m sorry that fucknf sucks but that’s unfortunately the kinda shit that happens when you’re living in that kind of environment. To be happy it wasn’t her bc death/od do not discriminate and I told her I was sorry the day was rough but I’m still really upset with right now and that she probably doesn’t care to all about it right now so I’ll just keep it to myself.
The I added there’s a whole nother life over here that’s amazing and happy you could be living

I am just about one year post-op from laparoscopy surgery. Anytime I wear jeans I get a small itchy bump on/ near my belly button. It only stays for a few days, but just repeats once I wear jeans again. Does anyone else experience this?!

As the title implies, this is the first in a series of stories about affairs I had in the military. I've never been married, not really interested in being married, but I have been with four married men in my life. In each case, I knew what I was doing, but I loved the rush of doing something I shouldn't as much as I liked the relationship itself. I'll save you all the negative comments. I was the homewrecking whore, etc, etc. If that's what you're here to comment about, save your breath, I'll just block you so people who want to actually read my content don't have to deal with you. If this is your sort of story, I'd love to hear your feedback on content or how I can improve my writing! One quick author's note, i will not be using people's real names or naming specific units that my stories happened in. I was never caught in my sexual affairs, no wives found out and left their husband over me, and no one's military career ended because of me and I intend to keep it that way. This is for fun writing, not doxing someone's past transgressions to the world. Also let me know if you want to see more stories! <3 Hannah
First, a little about me. I'm 5'5ish, 135ish depending on the day, and have dark brown hair that falls part way down my back with brown eyes. My mom is a Crow and my dad is Italian so the olive complexion genes are active in my family. I've got a fairly petite/athletic build with a 32B chest and a toned butt. My nipples are dark brown, on the smaller side, and I shave everywhere. I'm a fan of tattoos and have a feather on my foot, flower pieces on my right hip into my lower ribs, left shoulder, and lower back, a small script piece in my left side bra line, a green carebear in my left bikini line and a large dream catcher down my left ribs. If there's a detail I've left out, feel free to ask ;)
Without further ado, my story:
I was an 18 year old private, 92F (fuel handler) working on a base in the heart of Bourbon Country. It was a huge culture shock for me, coming from a small town in Maine to a massive military base with more people in my division than my home town. I honestly felt a little lost and overwhelmed, which probably contributed to why I sought out a relationship where I felt wanted. It's easy on a base like that to feel completely ignored. My unit had long been integrated and was about 30-40% female on any given day, so no I wasn't getting hit on constantly, and no I wasn't sleeping with every guy in my barracks.
Speaking of my living situation, I was in a 4-story building with all of the junior enlisted soldiers in my battalion. There wasn't open bays and there wasn't all girls areas. We roomed by company in our own room with a bedroom, closet, bathroom, and a fridge/sink/1 burner stove setup by the door as a kitchenett. Barracks could definitely be a wild time, similar to a college dorm but contrary to your favorite porno, gangbang orgies with 20 guys "running a train" are something I never saw or heard of in my 4 years living there and I was/am a fairly sexually active adult.
Given my situation of being totally new and massively out of my element in terms of culture shock, I quickly turned to Bumble to help sort out my dating scene because the base really was a city and everyone is pretty insular when it comes to their unit, so trying to meet guys who also aren't your coworkers means turning to the swipe game. After a few days online and connections with everyone from the local off base that definitely has fewer teeth than fingers to the obviously fake bot that just screams scam, and swiping left on some guys from my own company (hey, 18-25 year old demographic has the same needs, I get it), I finally matched with a 26 year old, Dustin, from another brigade on our post.
Given 10 seconds on Dustin's profile, I could tell he was an officer and anyone with 10 seconds to spare on my profile could tell I was junior enlisted, but we matched anyway. He was handsome in a gentle sort of way. Sandy brown hair in a military cut, athletic features that let you know he was fit without screaming chiseled gymrat, and a style that screamed more laid back homebody than the stereotypical "bro vet" vibe that you get with some young officers....and a ton of junior enlisted. I took a pause and decided to message him despite knowing our ranks didn't line up because the way I saw it, we were in totally seperate brigades and there'd be no reason we would ever interact or influence eachother at work.
A few minutes later I got a reply back and soon I was texting back and forth getting to know a genuinely sweet guy with a love of the outdoors, fishing, camping, and an eye for photography, particularly some truly astounding landscape photos. The conversation came easy and I found myself happy to have a guy so interested in me. Before I got completely swept off my feet, I brought up the elephant in the room and mentioned that I was an E2 and he was an O3. He dropped the bombshell that "yeah but I'm just a guy on staff, that's not a big issue, the real issue is I need to be discreet because I'm married. Please don't hate me"
Boom. Of course the super easy to talk to makes me feel wanted and moves past my mention of our rank differences drops the counter-bomb of he has a wife. In all of my 18 years I thought I would have run away instantly. Nope. Not me. I was intrigued. I didn't run away, and I came to find out that his wife was doing a year long internship with a major corporation out of state and only really came to visit on long weekends and holidays. So Dustin had turned to Bumble to fill a piece of his love life that was currently 4 states away. Not ideal I told myself, but at least she isn't like...here on post with him and he's not coming home because he's with someone else...right? To 18 year old me trying to convince myself it was okay to be with the guy I obviously was attracted to it was sound logic. It worked. I replied back that I was up for seeing what happened with the understanding that no one was gonna leave their wife over this and no one was gonna get anyone in trouble over the rank thing.
A week of texting back and forth after moving off Bumble found Dustin and I building a fast relationship that came with similar interests and easy conversation. He wasn't overly pushy about becoming anything romantic and wasn't like "Omg send nudes". I guess he was feeling this whole thing out as much as I was. Eventually I got the text one evening of "you know you look really good in that pic you have with your friends at the beach on your profile"...I know the one. I'm wearing an electric blue string sided bikini that has pretty full coverage, rides moderately low on my hips and has basic triangle cups and string ties for the top. Okay, Dustin likes me in a bikini...this is the first obvious flirting from Dustin and I decide to be a little bold and sent him a mirror selfie in the generic black bra I had worn under my uniform that day with my uniform pants still on. I get a reply back in some stereotypical guy lingo that he really likes what he sees. I told him that if he wanted to hang out, I wouldn't put my uniform shirt back on. Cue the FaceTime call, yes Dustin I will video chat with your handsome shirtless self while wearing a bra and my uniform pants thank you very much. We talked for at least an hour and things didn't turn super sexual or anything but we did agree we needed a date that weekend. The week ahead though definitely saw a spike in "tension" between us.
I was more than a little excited by the prospect of being with someone again. I had had a little fling during AIT, but since coming to my first duty station, I had been in a bit of a dry spell. Bumble had finally come through for me, and the combined rush of potentially being with a guy again, plus the fact he was one of those forbidden officers, and married? I was on edge. I definitely had my moments of "holy shit I shouldn't be doing this" but those feelings were replaced by a feeling of almost insatiable excitement that had me counting down the days to Saturday. For the first time since highschool, I found myself putting some serious effort into some scandalous but not too "revealing" snaps to Dustin, teasing him with a peak of which panties I wore to work today, or hoping in the shower after PT with just my black Army tshirt on and sending a pic of it clinging to every curve and hiding just enough below my waist. Like I said, hard-core tease mode for four whole days.
Flash forward to Saturday and I was in my barracks room, getting ready to meet a guy I was 100% falling for just a little and I decided that no matter what happened tonight, I was not gonna be the girl who gives it all up on the first date. Definitely set myself up to potentially cock block myself, but I saw it as I didn't want to be the girl he slept with and left, I wanted to continue to tease him and leave him wanting more. I wanted him to want me. I slipped into a pair of almost painted on skinny jeans with a cute teal thong underneath with a black tanktop and matching pushup bra on top. I drove to Dustin's house somewhere in the on base housing that I'd never been and took a deep breath before walking to the door.
This was it. I was the new Private about to go see a married officer behind his wife's back. I almost chickened out and drove away, but found myself ringing the doorbell and quickly being invited in, pulled into a warm hug and a "wow you look even cuter in person" from the handsome man of my DMs, Dustin. He had apparently spent the day smoking some brisket because he had quite the spread laid out for us in the dining room as I got a quick tour of the common spaces of his home. Definitely nicer than my barracks room.
Dinner accompanied the two of us loudly cheering on a random football game on TV, sorta snuggled on the couch but at a "almost together " sort of distance. There were all sorts of reasons for us to brush up against eachother and it was almost this cat and mouse game of how far do we go as the evening progressed. Don't get me wrong, there was a ton of conversation and it came just as naturally as it had online, but now we had the palpable tension of two of us who had never been this far deciding where the limit for tonight would be.
Eventually Dustin cut the tension, saying, "you really do love to tease don't you?". Yes. Let's talk about how I've driven you wild for days and now you want me. I leaned into him, kissed him quickly but firmly on the lips before pulling away, leaving an inch between us as I looked into his eyes and whispered "yes sir". I found my face immediately in his hands, my lips pressed to his and our tongues intertwined. I gasped as he suddenly held me close and we made every effort to close any space between us as we passionately made out, his fingers running through my hair, my nails scraping his back over his tight tshirt and soon I was hot, breathless, and sure I wanted more.
I pulled away and told him he didn't get all of me tonight but he could still have dessert. I had him sit up on the edge of the couch and pulled his shorts to the floor, tossing them aside towards an end table holding pictures of him and his wife and our dirty dishes from dinner. I in turn lifted my tanktop off over my head, unclasped my black pushup bra and let it fall to the floor, kneeling between Dustin's spread legs as my small brown nipples hardened into firm nubs in arousal. I pulled back my long brown hair and tied it in a messy ponytail before bringing my face down to his firm, six inches between his legs.
I teased the length of his shaft with the tip of my tongue, feeling him twitch in expectation as I repeatedly, softly traced his length before circling his tip and heading back down the way I came. I grasped his base and swallowed half his length in one wet mouthful, a gasp of pleasure escaping his lips as my own pushed further towards his base, attempting to take his entire firm cock before the tip slipped down into my throat, triggering a slight gag reflex as I tightened around his shaft and I came up for air, a slight trail of drool connecting my lips to his tip. I stroked his now well lubed cock in a twisting motion as I asked him if his little private was doing well for him. A hand on the back of my head guiding me back to his shaft told me this wasn't too far for him. I swallowed him nearly to his base, grasping him with one hand as my free hand unbuttoned my jeans and slipped into the front of my now soaked panties, the arousal of the situation I found myself bringing me close to an edge myself.
I worked Dustin's shaft with a bobbing head, sucking lips and twisting hand that matched the rhythm I was working against my clit with the hand buried in my jeans. I increased my pace, with Dustin's hand making sure I still brought myself far enough down his length as my own pleasure came more and more to the forefront as my now soaked vagina craved more attention. I popped off his cock as I felt it begin to swell and told him to stand up as I scooted back from the couch, kneeling between his legs, looking up at him as one hand held my jeans open while the other furiously rubbed my clit as I came close to cumming myself. I moaned for Dustin to cum for me as I looked up at him, the inner walls of my vagina clenching in orgasm as the filthy phrase left my lips and I was greeted with thick streams of cum shooting over my head before falling on my uplooking face and bare breasts and Dustin climaxed after an apparently decent dry spell.
I knelt between his legs, cum covering my face and chest, my own arousal soaking my panties and in that moment I felt like the hottest woman on earth. I made a man forget his entire world and do this with me in a home that wasn't mine but his. I was addicted to the rush. Dustin reached down and offered me a hand to pull me up. He led me topless to the guest bathroom where I cleaned up, washing my face and chest before walking back to the livingroom and redressing. Neither of us made mention of the line we had just crossed together, but we sat on the couch, now cuddled like a couple with the ice broken and finished the football game that had been forgotten awhile ago.
After the game we both agreed that I should probably get going, but we agreed to see eachother again and made a date for a midweek hangout. I kissed Dustin goodnight and drove back to my barracks in my still wet panties that I hadn't changed out of. I sent Dustin a snap in them, a wet spot still visible in the front with a caption "the things you do to me(; "...needless to say he was proud of himself. I went to bed dreaming of what could come from this, and truly happy to feel wanted, even if it was from a man who wasn't all mine.
Thank you all for reading this far. Again, like I said before, any rude comments will just get you a block. If that's what you need to do to feel good about yourself, so be it. For those of you who enjoyed this, please let me know if you'd like to read more! I'm always open to constructive feedback and critiques to improve my writing! Have a great evening! <3 Hannah

does anyone in this sub have a body type that's just so masculine looking and it rots your confidence? i feel like my shoulders are wide as mountains. I don't have feminine facial features either and I wish I just had a feminine dainty kind of body as at least it would help the face issue. I see weight loss as compensation but that won't change or femininize my bone structure. I feel upset about it everyday. Women on tiktok sometimes complain they don't feel girly enough being skinny and petite so they exercise and I envy them so much, there's nothing more stereotypically feminine. I didn't learn how to do makeup, dress for my body type, or wear colors that highlight me so when I put on a dress I feel like I'm cosplaying femininity.

So I've posted about this before, my sibling often stealing my things and then gaslighting me by denying it afterwards.
Well just recently I've noticed a top I remember never seeing recently for years somehow turning up in my padlocked bag.
I've noticed this happening before with my other things. Except the difference was that this was before I got the padlock bags.
Now how the fuck did she know my combination?
Now, unless I forgot to mix up the combination when it was locked as I usually do, how do you reckon they got into the bag? Because it's looking like that's what happened.
Do you think I need to change the combination now for extra security?
I'm not being delusional about this. At some point I didn't know where that top was to the point I was starting to think I had imagined its entire existence. I had some similar tops so I assumed there had only ever been the two. I genuinely felt like I was going crazy.
Well now the top has reappeared and I don't know how or when this happened.
I'm trying to remember if I found it before I put my clothes in this bag but I don't think so. So I'm really disturbed and confused by this.
Is my sister sneaking in my room when I'm asleep, driving all the way from her place in the early hours of the morning just as she used to do to my other sister, to return things she's taken and steal new items?
She's such a fucking creep. I don't care if they're family, anyone who does that and moreover steals from me frankly deserves a bullet to the head.
I'm not saying she definitely did it in the middle of the night because you'd think this would be a bit more difficult when someone lives far away. Although not impossible. Especially not if she did it on her way to work. And sadly I can sometimes be a heavy sleeper, especially if I'm having a lie-in.
I had a security alarm that's currently run out of battery that went off one day when I was attending a course. I bought the alarm precisely for this reason, as a deterrent so that my freak of a sister wouldn't enter my room when I wasn't around, as I knew she was in the habit of doing (my mum had caught her snooping, most likely to steal, on several different occasions).
I suspected it before I even knew it because of my sister's shady behaviour around me of one who's done something wrong and knows it. Maybe she is so thick she doesn't care about getting her eardrums burst 🤣 Apparently her kleptomaniac addiction beats all sense out of her...She acts so pathetic and almost like eager to please when she knows she's been doing something shady. Like maybe she really can't help it. I honestly don't understand it.
And then, of course, I noticed the alarm was set to off so clearly someone had set it off. Then the next day I heard my sister was complaining about how loud it was to everyone else. But in order to know this, either she or my mum had to have set it off.
Initially I hoped that perhaps my mum was just putting some washing in my room (tbh I had put it there partly for this reason because I prefer putting my own washing away).
Yet ever since noticing this top reappearing, I'm not so sure.
At least now I know I didn't imagine it.
But it's fucking with my head all over again.
It's exactly like this time I got mad at her about this in the past (the covert narcissist still tried to paint herself as a poor victim of my understandable annoyance, however, as she always does) and then a few days later a few shirts I'd be missing were suddenly in my drawers. I'm pretty sure I didn't imagine it and now this top reappearing seems like confirmation that I didn't imagine it that time, either.
She's such a bitch for messing with my head like this. Because it's a horrible feeling to be tricked, repeatedly stolen from and gaslit like this.
And perhaps the scariest, most disturbing part about all of this is that the last time some of my stuff reappeared, I could have sworn I had a dream about someone putting them back the night before. And this all leaves me wondering if it wasn't a dream and I was half awake and half aware at the time of what she was doing. This seems reinforced by the fact that sometimes I've woken up to find my door isn't fully closed like someone has been in (you have to click it with force to close it). Sometimes I've wondered if this was my mum but I'm not so sure and what's clear is that, with the amount of time I spend in my room these days, my sister probably wouldn't have had much opportunity to sneak into my room in the daytime.
One of the freakiest things about this is that sometimes it almost feels like law of attraction, ie what with how I was thinking about it and then it appeared, as though I manifested it with my mind or something.
It's like they knew I was thinking about it and missing it.
Or, possibly, while snatching some of my other things, she decided to do her usual swap exchange and take a few, leave a few, etcetera.
This may be why it looks like one of the other similar tops has gone missing. But I will have to check that tomorrow.
I have no doubt that she took this shirt at some point but I will consider the possibility that maybe I found it or she returned it before I put my stuff in lock bags.
And yet I can swear a bunch of my jeans that were being kept in another lock bag have gone missing. The whole bag. And I can't tell if I'm being crazy or not. Yet this whole top reappearing is saying... probably not. Maybe they are missing and she's taken them. Just like the other things.
She's so ridiculous.
Sometimes she also wears this makeup that's too pale for her skin and she looks almost vampiric. A nice reflection of her leeching, soul-sucking personality, I guess.
It actually reminds me of something I saw that was either a delusion or part of the Illuminati's U2 system. The style and pale colour and everything.
If mind control is real as I'm convinced it is, as I have some reason to believe, I'm pretty positive that she's also under their influence because I wouldn't really know how else to explain such irrational, creepy, and disturbing behaviour.
Maybe this sounds a little cruel but sometimes I'm a little repulsed and annoyed by weak personality traits or, even worse, feigning weakness and innocence when the person is actually simultaneously really mean-spirited, sneaky, creepy and clearly has a serious personality disorder.
I posted this here, I don't know why.
I hope karma some day really kicks her in the backside.
Thank God for all the illnesses they keep getting as punishment for being swine!
I hate people like this.
And, what's even more crazy, is how common it is. Or more common than it should be.
I've seen posts on here written by a man complaining about his adult brother doing it to him and going so far as to lock him out and call the police when he went round there to get his stuff back.
I'm pretty sure this is what my sister is doing. These people are parasites.
Covert narcissists are very good at dishing out what they can't take back 🤣.
"Me takes from you, but you do not comes anywhere near my belongings, okays".
It's so childish and pathetic that you almost want to laugh but so unbelievably bloody annoying at the same time.
On the plus side, none of us are going to hell because we've already been through it on earth with our family 🤣🤣
Them, on the other hand, I don't know.
I've heard many cases of people killing themselves from all the gaslighting. And I've often been so close to that myself.

I apologize if this has already been discussed on here, but I was away from Reddit for a few days and am super curious — does anyone know what, if any, comments Abby made about Chloe in her stupid reunion reaction video? I read what she said about Paige being the best dressed/best spoken, Kelly would have to apologize first for them to speak again, etc., but did she have anything to say about Chlo?
Christi & Kelly mentioned she had a lot to say about the fact that Chloe & Kendall were wearing matching dresses lol.

I first got acquainted with Super Mario Bros not from a gaming magazine, and not from a visit to a friend who got an NES. Being born in the USSR, I first read about this game in the book “The Fifteenth Stone of the Ryoanji Garden”. The author, Vladimir Tsvetov, wrote it to tell Soviet readers about life in 80s Japan, its economy and culture. Here’s what Tsvetov wrote about SMB in the 8^th chapter, dedicated to education:
“Akihabara district of Tokyo. Thousands of shops and stores, big and small, huddled toghether. Inside — rows of refrigerators and electric stoves, stacks of TVs and VCRs, pyramids of air conditioners and heaters, electric fans and microwave ovens, piles of transistor radios, pocket calculators and electric shavers. Morning. The biggest crowd floods the stores selling the videogame consoles for TVs and the videogame programs recorded on cassettes. The crowd is mostly teenagers. They occupy the demo units and start playing. There are 20 million videogame fans in Japan.
A bookstore. Long open shelves with spines of all colours and sizes. Spacious racks with magazines of different formats and looks. Books and magazines for every taste — from a noble one to a lowbrow. Boys and girls, wearing school uniforms and jeans, skirts and shorts, run into the store in groups and one by one. They ignore the shelves and the racks and go directly to a pile of books which, judging by the cover, can be mistaken for a collection of fairytales.
I also take one. “How to play Super Mario Brothers”, says the title. It’s a videogame guide. The videogame console allows you to see on your TV screen the Mario brothers, nicknamed Super Mario for their nimbleness and courage. They are ready to save the princess, captured in a distant castle. The castle is strongly guarded by cunning bandits. Defeat them, infiltrate the castle and save the princess — that’s the program you should design and input into the videogame console. The Super Mario brothers will do just as the program says. “How to play Super Mario Brothers” was printed in 680 thousand copies. Shakespeare was never published in such quantities in all the history of Japan.
There are tens of thousands of games like Super Mario Brothers. New games, more sophisticated, appear daily. You need the smarts of an experienced gumshoe and the wits of a seasoned pathfinder to design programs for them. These skills are important and useful, that’s true. And it’s good that videogames help to develop them. But what good are these qualities without humanity and truthfulness, without the ability to see the beauty of the world and the desire to serve people? These qualities are not nurtured by videogames. Only stymied. Saving the princess in Super Mario Brothers is not an act of humanity but a logically ordered sequence of actions.
— Hey kids, does anyone know Tom Sawyer? — I ask the buyers of “How to play Super Mario Brothers”.
Silence. A confused giggle. Two of them are slowly moving backwards, ready to run away. The kid standing closest to me collects his wits and proclaims:
— It’s a videogame company!
Trade statistics says: there are more than 6 million videogame consoles in Japanese households.”
(The original can be read here: Chapter 8)

hai XD
I’m tryna dress scene but I have sensory issuez :(
iz there anything besidez jeans that I could wear? I rlly can’t stand skinny jeans

“Holy shit!”, Derek said, “Rock and Roll! Let’s go!”
“Wait a second, dear boy!”, Bob instructed, “REBECCA! EDGAR! When you are finished meet us in the limo!”, he yelled loudly.
He then motioned for Derek to go.
Derek took the band-aid off his forehead then stepped off the plane, and began walking slowly down the steps, waving, smiling, and throwing up the horns as he did.
The screaming from the crowd grew louder.
Anyway, Corey followed Derek, then Stephen, then Ricky, who took off his head wrap before he walked off the plane.
Tony went next, all of them doing the same as Derek as they too walked down the steps.
I reached down, took hold of Donna’s hand, raised it to my lips, kissed it, and asked, “Are you ready, Babe!”
She smiled, and said, “Yes!”
“Oh, give it a rest already. You two are downright sickening!”, Bob commented.
“Shut up, Bob!”, I shot back.
“Remember what I said, Mr. Hard-Sell!”, Bob said sternly.
“Mr. Who?”, asked Donna.
“I’ll explain it later, Babe! Let’s go!”, I replied.
We then exited the plane together, walked down the steps holding hands, and waved to the crowd.
Bob was last to exit.
One by one, we made our way down the steps, across the carpet, and into the waiting limousine.
I, of course, let Donna go first, then crossed over her, to give her the window seat.
It was the same exact layout as the other limo, so I assumed it was the same one.
It was equipped with all the same incentives as before, except the hard stuff.
Derek, Corey, Stephen, and Ricky began indulging in their favorite incentives
Donna & I looked out of the limo door to see Bob just reaching the bottom of the steps, when loud oh’s and ah’s, came from the opening of the plane.
Bob turned around, as we looked up, to see Edgar and Rebecca both trying to squeeze through the door of the plane at the same time.
“Move!”, “You move!”, “I’m going first!”, “No, me!”, “Jezebel”, “Daddy’s bitch!” They argued.
The crowd began laughing, instead of cheering.
Rebecca then took her arm, and hit Edgar in his chest, knocking him back into the plane, as she stepped out, and began walking down the steps, smiling and waving with her right hand, like a supermodel, still wearing the nurses hat, and twirling the stethoscope with her left hand.
I didn’t see her tail, so I assumed she had it tucked up underneath her shirt.
Edgar soon emerged from the plane stumbling, composed himself, and began walking down the steps, open handed waving with his right hand as he did.
He was carrying his pilot’s jacket and hat in his left hand
Anyway, Bob then got in the limo, then Rebecca, then Edgar.
Someone then shut the door.
“What in the Holy name of me was that?”, Bob yelled.
“He started it!”, “She started it!”, they began arguing.
Donna scooted closer to me.
“And I am going to end it!”, Bob yelled once again, “If you two can not act professional, instead of acting like spoiled little brats, then I will banish you both to the lake of fire, and not think twice about it!
Rebecca! I love you, as much as the devil can, and Edgar! You are my most loyal Demon, next to The Seeker that is! But I WILL NOT tolerate ANYONE or ANYTHING interfering with the success of my plan! Do I… make myself… clear?!”
“Yes, Daddy!”, “Yes, Sir!”, they both answered.
“We’ll see about that”, Bob said.
He then smiled, like clicking off a switch and said dramatically, “Now, on to the hotel!”
He then knocked on the mirrored glass that was separating the front of the limo from the back once again.
The limo then slowly pulled away.
“Who’s driving the limo?”, Ricky asked again.
The mirror then rolled down.
I didn’t know it could do that, last time, if you remember, they used the phone.
Anyway, the driver then turned around to look at us… It was the old man.
“It’s me!… just like last time!”, he said laughing, then rolled the mirror back up.
Rebecca then turned to Donna, who was sitting next to her, and said, “Girl! We matching! That’s what besties do!”
In all the craziness, I didn’t realize that Donna and Rebecca were wearing the very same outfit, and so was Edgar.
“Cool!”, Donna said, hesitantly.
“I got my jeans!”, Rebecca said smiling.
Corey then chimed in, “Hey, Demon chick!”, he said, and pointed at Rebecca.
“I am NOT a demon! I am a succubus”, she said defiantly.
“Yeah, Yeah! Whatever!”, he replied, “Ever since we met you, you have been trying to seduce us. Hell, you even tried to kiss me, and now you’re acting like some demented Valley Girl!”
I love that movie.
Anyway, Corey then continued, “What’s up with that?”
“You are all second hand news. I tried, was denied, and now I’m moving on. I have my sights set on someone else.
Besides, I always wanted a best friend, someone that was not intimidated by my sexuality, fearing that I would take what was theirs.
My bestie here knows that I have absolutely no chance with her man. He looks at her, like most men look at me. I am not the compilation of all his desires, and never will be. She is. The fact that he wanted her to stay, let’s me, and her, know that. It is she who holds his desire. Not me. So i don’t have to be what is expected of me. I am free to be the real me.”, Rebecca replied.
“Can I use that?”, I asked Rebecca excitedly.
“Use what?”, she asked me back.
“The last two sentences that you just said! Can I use them? I’ll give you a writers credit!”, I responded.
“I don’t remember what I said”, she admitted
“I don’t have to be what is expected of me. I am free to be the real me.
That would make a great verse for a song.”, I said. “Can I use it?”, I asked again.
“Songwriters, Man!”, Stephen said wasted, shaking his head, “Wild Bunch!”
“Just say Yes, dear!”, Bob said nonchalantly.
“O- Ok! Um, Yes!”, Rebecca answered, “But what’s a writers credit?”, she asked.
“I’ll tell you later, dear!”, Bob told her, nonchalantly as well.
I actually used that verse in a song later on, giving her a Writers Credit like I said I would.
Anyway, “Can I have a beer, Sir?”, Edgar asked Bob.
“These incentives are NOT for you, Edgar. They are for the band, and Tony.”, Bob answered.
Edgar just hung his head.
“Hey, Bob! Edgar played keyboards on the album, so technically he IS part of the band. I don’t care if he has one! Do you guys?”, Derek asked.
“Nope!”, “Go ahead!”, “I don’t care!”, “Go for it!”, the four of us answered.
Edgar then got up and got a beer, for which he shared with Rebecca, then got back up to get them both a beer, when the first one was gone.
Those two really hit it off. Laughing, joking, leaning into one another. It was weird.
I know, right!
I made Donna and I a cup of coffee, and got Tony a bottle of water.
I don’t know how much time passed , but it wasn’t too long after that, that the limo stopped, and the mirror rolled back down again.
“Sir! We’re here!”, the old man said, rolling the mirror back up.
Bob then clapped his hands again and said, “Boys! Boys! And ladies! Once we enter the hotel, let me do the talking, you just smile and nod. Understand?”
“Yes” was the collective response.
The back door then opened, and it was the same as it was at the airport.
Crowds of screaming fans, a red carpet, and flashbulbs flashing.
Bob exited first, because he’s Bob.
Tony exited next, because he’s our bodyguard, and had to be able to stop any overzealous fans from harming us.
We didn’t think about that when we exited the plane.
Anyway, Donna and I went next.
Stephen and Ricky went after us, completely hammered.
Derek and Corey went after them, stoned out of their minds.
And last was Edgar and Rebecca, glowing like love sick teenagers.
It was very odd, to say the least.
The sign on the side of the hotel was written in Japanese, so I couldn’t tell you the name of the place if I wanted to.
Anyway, we walked, in that order, to the front door.
Bob opened the door and we walked inside.
It wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t a 5 star by any means, or even a 3 star, for that matter. But I’ve seen worse.
We walked up to the desk and was greeted by an old Japanese woman, trying to communicate with us in what?… that’s right! Japanese!
We had no idea what she was saying.
Bob then ran over to her and started speaking, in what I can only assume was the language she was speaking.
After a short conversation, she reached behind her and pulled 7 room keys off the wall, and handed them to Bob.
“Here you go, Boys! One for the four of you!”,Bob said, handing Derek, Corey, Stephen, and Ricky, each a key.
“One for the two of you!”, handing one to me and Donna.
“One for you Big Man!”, handing one to Tony.
“And one for you Edgar, you have to run the board, for tomorrow nights concert!”, handing the last one to Edgar.
“Rebecca, you come with me!”
“Do I have too, Daddy?”, she asked.
“Yeah, Um! Does she have to, Sir?”, asked Edgar.
We all just stood there with a “What the fuck” expression on our faces.
“You are not a child, Rebecca. You can make your own decisions. I have to remember that. Do you want to stay?”, Bob asked.
“Yes, Daddy! Yes, please!”, she answered excitedly.
“Very well, my dear!”, Bob responded, as Rebecca bounced up and down and clapped her hands, “Yay!”, she said.
Edgar smiled hard.
That “What the fuck” look we had on our faces, turned into a “what the fucking fuck” look.
“Now, I trust you all can handle yourselves from here, you’re rooms are just down that hall. Enjoy boys… and girls.”, Bob said standing there.
“Dude, let’s hit the bar, and spend some of this signing bonus!”, Derek said. Corey, Stephen, and Ricky all agreed.
Bob then spoke,” Boys! I don’t care what you do, how you do it, or who you do it with, but know this. You WILL be up, awake, ready to go, and waiting in this lobby, at 6 o’clock tomorrow morning, human time that is. If you are not, I guarantee you, there will be HELL TO PAY!”
“Okay!”, they all said, then wandered off to find the bar.
“Now, I have to confirm the events for tomorrow, so I bid you all ado! If you need anything, just call my name, and I will return! To-da-loo!”, Bob said, snapped his fingers, and disappeared into… you know what he disappeared into, Right?
Edgar and Rebecca took off like a bat out of hell toward their room, which was right next to ours. Edgar dropped the key in his nervous excitement, found it, opened the door, and they quickly went inside, shutting the door, but not closing it all the way.
About a minute later, we saw the tip of Rebecca’s tail poke out of the opening, place a “DO NOT DISTURB” sign on the doorknob, then slowly close the door.
“I hope she doesn’t kill him?” I said.
“He’s a demon. I’m not sure if she can.”, Donna replied.
“Good point!”, I said.
“They do make a cute couple though!”, Tony commented.
“Agreed!” I said, putting my arm around Donna’s shoulder and walking to our room, as Tony walked to his.
I opened the door, and looked inside.
It was at that very moment that I realized that the bedroom in the house, was not a bedroom at all. It was a hotel room, the same hotel room that I was looking at.

“Holy Hell, Edgar! I thought you said you could do this! Where is the manual I provided for you?”, Bob asked.
Well, Sir! The manual was quite heavy, so I wrote down all the instructions on something humans call index cards. I separated them into each category, pre-checklists, take-off, landing, things like that, then paper clipped them together, and kept them all in my shirt pocket behind my pocket protector under my pilots jacket.
I was nervous and sweating when we took off, so I took off the jacket, and put it in the co-pilots seat.
When we were spiraling down, out of control, my sunglasses fell off, and my pocket protector, my pen, and the cards fell out. The cards fell apart, and were flying around the cockpit.
Now they’re scattered everywhere on the cockpit floor. I don’t know what order they go in, or what card goes to what instruction. It’s a big mess, Sir!”, Edgar replied.
“Do you want to take this one, Mr. Hard-Sell?”, Bob asked me.
I was reluctant to be anywhere near Edgar after what happened last time, so I simply answered, “Your Demon! Your problem!”
All the girls screamed again, this time screaming, “He’s a Demon!”
“Yes, Girls! But he’s a kinda cool guy, unless you sneak up behind him!”, I replied.
“Thanks”, Edgar said.
“Ok then! Very well!, Mr. Hard-Sell! I will take care of it!”, Bob responded. “Let’s Go, Edgar!”
They both then headed out the door, down the hallway, through the other door, and disappeared out of sight.
“I like your accordion!”, Tony’s redhead said.
“You can check it out, if you want to!”, he told her, then placed it gently around her neck.
I offered my guitar to Donna, who nervously accepted.
All the guys then offered their gear to their girls.
They all just stayed still, looking like a bad independent T & A movie, in their sexy lingerie.
My first girl was just standing there, as she was the “Odd Girl Out”. So, I let her use one of my other guitars.
“Play something!”, Derek said.
“Yeah! Girls can rock too!”, Stephen said.
My mind then flashed to the all female Rock band Vixen, they might have been poppy, and radio friendly, but they still rocked… kind of.
Stephen’s girl then counted it off, except she didn’t do the normal count off, she just said, 1, 2, 3, 4.
Now, I have no idea what those girls played, or what Corey’s girl was saying. I seriously doubt that they did either. It was mostly high pitched screaming.
It was a 3 minute cacophony of sheer and udder noise. But they had fun, and that’s all that matters.
Anyway, when they finished, Derek screamed out, “Rock and Roll!”, and threw up the horns.
We all did the same, including Tony.
The girls high fived each other, and were jumping up and down, cheering. Some of them did high kicks like cheerleaders do.
What a sight that was. Sexy lingerie, remember?
Anyway, Bob then returned from the cockpit.
“Well, you boys really changed since I’ve been gone!”, he said smiling.
The girls then gave us back our gear.
“Well, Boys!… and girls! Edgar has it all figured out now, so we’ll be landing soon. Let’s head back to the other room, shall we?”
Derek, Ricky, and I put our guitars back in place. Stephen put the drumsticks back, and Corey put the microphone back on its stand.
Tony let his girl keep his accordion.
We all then made our way to the Hangout Room, Bob again closing each door behind us.
We got back to the room, and talked, hung out, indulged in a few incentives, things like that.
As we were indulging ourselves, the intercom popped again.
“Hey, guys! The tower guy said we have clearance, or something, I don’t know, to land this thing. So, here goes! Wish me luck. Hey, there are the lights! Cool!
The intercom them popped off.
Out of complete nervousness, Donna and I hugged each other, as the plane started to descend.
Tony and his two girls did the same.
The remaining girls huddled on the couch, holding each other.
Bob stood by the TV.
Derek, Corey, Stephen, and Ricky just carried on with what they were doing.
The plane suddenly stopped descending, bounced a little, jolted forward, and began to shake, slowly coming to a stop.
The ones who weren’t dead already, sighed a sigh of relief.
Soon after, Rebecca came bouncing back through the curtain.
“Daddy! Can I come back yet? I think Edgar pooped himself. He smells really bad!”, she said.
We all kinda laughed at that one too.
“Are you going to be nice?”, Bob asked her.
“Yes, Daddy!”, she answered smiling.
“It doesn’t matter anyway. I have an announcement to make.”, he said.
Bob then clapped his hands and said, “Girls, Girls! Pay attention please! I hope you have enjoyed your little endeavors with the band, but… it’s time for you to go! We have business to attend to. With a snap of my fingers, I will return you to your homes. You will awaken in your beds and continue on with your lives. You can keep the lingerie! Are you ready?”
“I don’t want to go! I live alone. I don’t have any friends. My life sucks!”, Donna said.
“Um! Does she have to go?”, I asked Bob.
“No! Not if you would like her to stay!”, he said.
“I do!”, I replied.
“Does anyone else want their girls to stay?”, Bob asked.
Derek and Corey both said no immediately.
“I’m not boyfriend material!”, Stephen said.
“I like you and all, but I don’t want to be tied down at a young age like my Pops was! Sorry!”, Ricky said, looking at his girl.
“My wife filed for divorce when I told her about this job, so, I just wanna be free and have fun. It was very nice to meet you both.”, Tony replied, smiling at his girls.
“Do any of you girls want to stay?”, Bob asked the girls.
“I’ve gotta feed my cat!”, “I gotta work in the morning!”, “My Grandmothers sick!”, “The cable guy is coming tomorrow!”, “I got laundry to fold!”, “My boyfriends probably wondering where I am, so, No!”, they all said.
Tony’s girl laid his accordion on the floor.
“Very well, ladies. Goodbye!”, Bob said, and snapped his fingers.
The girls then disappeared into a cloud of gray smoke, all except Donna.
Rebecca then smiled, and waved, “Bye, Bitches!”, she said.
“REBECCA!”, Bob yelled.
“What, Daddy? That WAS being nice!”, she replied.
Rebecca then smiled, and waved at Donna.
“Now, listen closely, Mr. Hard-Sell”, Bob said sternly, looking me straight in the eye. “I WILL NOT tolerate any John Lennon/Yoko Ono bullshit, I have heard all the stories. Business is business, and MY business is with you, and you only! No outside interference! Is… that… clear?”, he said.
“Ye- Yes- Yes, Bob!”, I answered nervously.
That was the first time, since we signed our contract, that Bob made me nervous.
Bob’s happy, and overly dramatic demeanor then returned.
“Lovely! Now Donna! We can not have you walking around in public in your present attire. It would be bad for business.”He said.
I then cut him a hard look.
“I did not mean it to be insulting, Mr. Hard-Sell! I meant that we have an image to uphold! One of professionalism. Lacy lingerie is not very professional, now is it!”, Bob clarified.
“Oh Ok! Sorry Bob!”, I said.
“No worries, dear boy! Now, tell me, Dear, what would you like to be wearing?”, Bob asked Donna.
“Um! I don’t know! Jeans and a t-shirt maybe!”, she answered.
Bob then snapped his fingers once again, and instantly Donna was wearing just what she had asked for… Skin tight jeans, a black Hellfire Records t-shirt, and a pair of brand new female Nike sneakers on her feet.
“You look amazing!”, I said to her.
“Oh! I love what you’re wearing”, Rebecca said to Donna, “What are those?, she asked pointing at Donna’s pants.
“Um! Jeans!”, Donna replied.
“Daddy! Can I have some jeans?”, Rebecca asked Bob.
“We’ll get you some soon, Dear!”, Bob replied
“Oh! Yay!”, Rebecca said excitedly, and side hugged Donna, who nervously looked at her side eyed.
“We’re gonna be the bestest of friends!”, Rebecca said, as she bounced back through the curtain, singing, “I’m getting jeans! I’m getting jeans!”, her tail waving excitedly behind her, like a dog excited to see you.
Now, I’m not sure if this was a clinical diagnosis back then, but Rebecca… was definitely bipolar.
“The doors open, Daddy!”, she said, sticking just her head through the curtain.
“Let’s go, Boys!”, Bob instructed.
“Where are we?”, Stephen asked, as we all got up, including Donna, to exit the plane.
“Japan, Boys! Your first show is at…”, Bob started to say.
“Budokan?”, I asked
“Very good, Mr. Hard-Sell! It’s actually Nippon Budokan, but yes!”, Bob said.
“No fucking way!”, I replied excitedly.
Now, some say the greatest LIVE album ever recorded is KISS ALIVE, some say KISS ALIVE II, some say TED NUGENT - DOUBLE LIVE GONZO, some say PETER FRAMPTON - FRAMPTON COMES ALIVE! But for me, the greatest LIVE album ever recorded will always be CHEAP TRICK - LIVE AT BUDOKAN!
It’s the rawness of the whole thing. The way Bun E. Carlos’s drums just boom. The way Robin Zander’s voice is perfectly pitched, well, his voice cracked a few times, but that’s what made it so real. Not like other “LIVE” albums that were polished up in the studio.
The way Rick Neilson’s guitars blazed through each song, and the way Tom Peterson’s bass pounded out the rhythm. I don’t care what anyone says. It is a masterpiece in its own right.
Anyway, we walked through the curtain to see Rebecca standing in the doorway, facing outward, and waving.
She was bouncing up and down as well.
Edgar then came walking through the kitchen, with his right hand on his butt.
He walked up to the group of us standing there.
“Holy Fire and Brimstone!”, Bob said loudly, covering his nose, as we all did the same.
“Jesus!”, “Holy Fuck!”, “Damn!”, “What the Hell did you eat!”, “What ate you?!”, “Gross!”, “That smells bad!”, we all said.
Rebecca then stepped back from the doorway, turned around, and covered her mouth quickly, obviously trying not to throw up.
Well, at least she tried.
Her body heaved, as globs of a green, glue-like substance, came exploding out of her mouth, through her fingers, and onto the floor.
We all jumped back to avoid being hit.
Bob just stood there, still holding his nose.
Now, I’ve been in many public bathrooms, and smelt some of the most horrific smells that the human body can produce, especially in the bathroom of that creepy grocery store in town.
But none of them even came close to the, eye watering, nose burning, hair splitting, vomit inducing smell of Demon shit.
“Go to the lavatory and get cleaned up, Son! Use soap! Holy burning flesh, you smell rancid!”, Bob said to Edgar, “I will provide you with new clothes. They will be waiting for you inside.”
Bob then snapped his fingers.
“I’m sorry, Sir! I- I was just scared.”, Edgar replied.
“I understand, Son! Just Go! Go!”, Bob said.
Edgar then made his way back to the bathroom, still holding his butt.
“Rebecca, go to the kitchen and clean yourself up! New clothes will be waiting for you there as well!”, Bob said.
“But, Daddy! Boys like me in this outfit!“, she responded, wiping her mouth.
“And clean up this mess!” Bob said, “Now, Go!”
Rebecca then turned and walked into the kitchen.
“Yes, Daddy!”, she said.
“Who are all those people?”, Ricky asked, looking out the door of the plane.
We all then stuck our heads out, seeing what he was seeing for the first time.
There was a huge black limousine, parked parallel with the plane, with a red carpet leading from the bottom of the steps to the back door of the limo.
It was very similar to the one Bob had outside the police station. Hell, it could have been the same one for all I know.
There was a huge gathering of Japanese people, teenagers mostly, a few adolescent looking ones, and even less adults to the left of where we stood.
They were all cheering, and jumping up and down with excitement.
Some of them held signs with the band name on them, some said “I Love Corey!”, with a red heart where the word love should be, some had Japanese writings on them that we couldn’t read.
The police had to play crowd control spreading their arms out, almost finger to finger, to keep them all back, as camera bulbs flashed repeatedly from the right of us.
“Are they here for us!”, Stephen asked.
“Yes, Boys! Welcome to your first taste of Fame and Fortune!”, Bob said smiling.

Hi. Okay maybe this will be a weird and maybe cringeworthy thread but hear me out I am in need of help I recently discovered Suda51's games (well not really, knew about them for a few years, even tried out Killer7, Silver Case, NMH on Steam , realized "man these games are cool" and left them to play for "some other time"; I spend majority of my time playing video games and I genuinely got a shit ton of them on Steam. Anyway fast forward two or three years and I decided to give Silver Case a try. I was so heavily impressed by it that I immediately tried Killer7 and then NMH. NMH was it man. Beat it in two sittings with sleep in between. I realized something... Travis is literally me... I have many similarities with him, the biggest one is that we are both losers. But seeing him succeed so well made me feel a great deal of inspiration. Ive had weights in my room that I barely touched in the last two years and seeing Travis exercising in the gym made me wonder "What the hell ? If a loser like him can do it , then I must too" so with little steps I began my journey into "strength training". So now every day I just lift weights until failure several times per day. It is quite enjoyable actually, especially when feeling angry. Im not a fat guy or anything and a bit stronger than the average untrained person , because i work a dumb manual labor job, but when i become too comfortable with the weights at home I will switch to more serious ones. I know Travis lifts around 50kg on bench press, I already counted that, because you can see the numbers on the weights in game. I will definitely match him there in a few months. Im really glad i started doing this because i always envied people who are very physically active and able to move freely like climb trees, fences, do parkour etc which I could only do as a kid - Ive grown into a very clumsy guy, bump into things constantly, sometimes even lose balance when walking. Travis reminded me of that when he stepped on the mines multiple times before fighting with Holly Summers. Secondly, Travis' clothes look awesome on him and it made me realize that I could wear something cool too - I am not his lookalike , but he is the closest looking video game character to me that I've seen and played as(that is until one day I go bald and start looking like Lynch from Kane & Lynch.....) , I do feel the need to do this because i literally wear plain black t shirts and black sweatpants all year round. I really like Travis' jeans , belt, red jacket & variety of shirts (my fav in the game is I Love Chainsaw and the one yellow one with Chinese symbols)...... Im a socially inept guy and maybe even infantile and immature, but i dont really care about those social / psychological things. My concern now is to beat Travis Touchdown. Im turning 26 years old in less than 3 weeks and that gives me 1 year until age 27 - the age of Travis at the start of his journey in No More Heroes. I think i will match him soon in style & definitely beat him at sports. However, the biggest and idk how to beat him at the next obstacle is money ... the bastard does have a lot of it at the end of the game. And probably at the start too, considering just how much stuff he has in his room and idk about the prices of living in a motel in the USA, because im just a Russian guy currently living in UK, but im pretty sure its cheaper to rent an apartment than to live in a motel, no? Oh and hes got a sickass vehicle.. So yeah , that part, i dont know how to even begin beating him at this. And here is a bit more cringe, I suppose, but recently i've seen the anime Jujutsu Kaisen, and there is another 27 year old guy there named Nanami, that guy is unlike me and Travis, he is a professional white collar worker who is only concerned with making money so that he can retire in a tropical country as soon as he can, so i was thinking about that stuff too i mean im gonna be same age as these guys in a year and they are way ahead of me, how do i beat them.. so a little bit I personally declared this year for myself to be more focused on getting out of this environment that I loathe to be in, so that means cutting out on a lot of crap and getting things in order . Okay thx for reading Have a nice time of day and maybe enjoy this nice song as a bonus https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OChjVLHlkVE

I had this dream a few days ago and it hasn’t left my mind and I feel very weird about it.
I was wearing my school uniform and at my school however there were no students and I think the time was around 6pm? I was walking to my car and I got in the car and my driver who’s usually in the car wasn’t in there. I don’t know why, but I had this scared and anxious feeling that something bad was about to happen and I locked the car door and ducked down ( sat on the car floor and bowed ) I don’t remember if I noticed the man before locking the car door and hiding or not but I think I did. The man was skinny, average or short height, wearing skinny dark blue jeans, and this bright red shirt. He came in front of the door I was at and he had this intense and scary stare, his eyes were wide open and were looking into my soul. It looked as if he might have been panicking or angry or in a rush? I don’t know. He keep trying to open the door and it was very aggressive, and then he left. Then my driver randomly appeared, and we were randomly driving home and then I noticed a car following us and I don’t know how but in the dream I knew it was him. I told my driver that there’s a man following me and he got very frustrated and the man and started speeding. That’s it.
If more detail is needed let me know.

Good afternoon, everyone!
I am buying my first pair in the next 4 months. Partially because it was a big birthday for me this year (30!), I am doing well in my degree (3.7 GPA!), and because I just got a promotion (WOOHOO)!
I plan on wearing them out on the town twice with my boyfriend when I go down to Tennessee in October and also a few times with my husband and his/our family during our yearly get-together (it's in New Orleans this year). I am looking for some feedback on the specific pair I am getting (I'm not worried about being scammed or anything, as I am buying them directly from Louboutin).
Shoes: Iriza 85mm Nappa Leather Black

1. How does sizing work for those who own the pairs already?

• I wear 38 EU/ 7.5 US in Coach and 37.5 EU / 7.5 US in Jimmy Choo (though the Jimmy Choos are a wee bit tight on the toes, but not unbearable). I understand that those numbers don't make sense (the 38 vs. 37.5, but Choo sizing is its own thing). Some research said that RBs need to be sized up and some say down, so I need some feedback from those who own them. I wanted to go with 8 US and how that translates in RBs, but I want to be sure.

1. How does one take care of Nappa Leather?

• These have been on my list for well over a decade, and I now have good reasons to take the plunge. So, what is the best way to care for Nappa? I've been doing a lot of research on certain creams and oils, and I have seen that oils should be avoided for Nappa. So how do you all take care of yours?

1. As for the soles, I want to protect them as much as I can.

• I am getting clear grips for the bottom to preserve the color and not fall on my face (lol). Is this something you would recommend?
• How about replacement heel tips?
• I travel a lot and will always have the chance to get to one of the Louboutin-approved cobblers at least once a year, so I'm not worried about repairs. I just want to know how best to start off taking care of them so I can avoid having to repair them so soon.

1. FINALLY - How do you all style them? I have three outfits that I need planned with them, minimum. Need feedback on my styling choices.

• The first one is for going out to a nice bar with the BF: black skinny jeans, black blouse, garnet jewelry, and a stand-out red clutch to bring it all back to the heels.
• The second is with my husband and mother in law (so a little more dressy): I'm thinking the same jewelry and clutch, but a little black dress with a red cinch belt instead.
• The third is coming back around to the BF; more casual dinner date: Black skinny jeans, a dark red V-neck t-shirt, the same jewelry and clutch.

Sorry if this was all over, I am just EXCITED. TIA!!!
Edit: spelling anf grammar

I’m looking for advice on outfits that my 12 year old will need for school next year. I never played sports myself so I didn’t really notice the athletes dressing up on game days, besides the football players all wearing their jerseys tucked into blue jeans. At tryouts, her volleyball coach told everyone that they will need to be dressed professionally during school, on game days.
What does this look like? There’s no way I’ll be able to convince her to wear a dress. 😆 Blue jeans and a button up? Can it be less formal than a button up? Maybe a cardigan over a tucked in tank?
Any ideas so that I can plan school clothes shopping accordingly would be greatly appreciated! 🙏🥰🏐