Mom bang teens pornpics

2020.10.29 12:30 lcars4774 Brandi Love, Natalia Starr - Mrs Conduct - Moms Bang Teens /album/

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2020.10.29 00:56 haircolorcrs Mom bang teens pornpics

I have this memory of myself as a 4 year old. I’d had a puppy but she only payed attention to my mom. I remember she started following me around one day and I turned around and screamed “no! You didn’t play with me before so you can’t now”. Idk this may sound weird but I had selective mutism as a kid and I feel like I felt guilt immediately after and I always just assumed the dog would hate me forever because of that moment for years. I feel like this was one of the first times I let out anger. I feel like I blame things on myself for years to the point where I can’t even consider the other persons feelings enough.
I have memories as a young girl in dressing rooms with my mom being extremely demanding about getting the clothes I wanted and I’d have fits in the dressing room and fume with anger rambling cruel things. I have memories as a teen where I’d go grocery shopping as a kid and be mouthing off my mom cruel words the entire time.
In college I’ve sent my parents dozens of cruel texts demanding for them to send me money- usually just a few bucks. But I can start typing and spamming and demanding and getting cruel with my language. Just rambling cruel thing and my dad apparently said it’s like I have a stream of consciousness.
I have memories of being 6-10 and standing still, staring straight past my patents and I’d start screaming “AHHHH” with wife eyes and an open mouth but it wasn’t like a controlled thing- it was like I was checked out
I don’t really fight with friends much but with a guy I was talking to I sent him really cruel drunk texts. He was in the wrong but spamming someone with angry texts and name calling is messed up no matter how drunk
But my parents aren’t great. I have memories of being five years old and having my mom jab me with markers repeatedly, rip up my shirt while I wore it, and tackle me while lightly banging my head into the floor. She’s taken pictures of my stomach and giggled to herself even though I’m slim. She’s made comments about how the dogs think I’m evil and my friends would hate the real me. She thinks humor is mocking and teasing someone and goes way to far. She randomly acts really stupid because she wants people to laugh and giggle at her like she’s cute and she gets really giddy. I also had a controlling friend who treated me like her pet when I was ages 11-14. She wouldn’t let anyone else compliment me and would deny others compliments but wouldn’t let me have other friends and would try to tear me down.
I am diagnoses with adhd-pi. The medicine makes it so I can slow down my thoughts and get words out right. I just am confused. Could there be an anxiety, depression, ocd, BPD, bipolar, cptsd??
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2020.10.28 23:21 haircolorcrs Teens bang pornpics mom

I have this memory of myself as a 4 year old. I’d had a puppy but she only payed attention to my mom. I remember she started following me around one day and I turned around and screamed “no! You didn’t play with me before so you can’t now”. Idk this may sound weird but I had selective mutism as a kid and I feel like I felt guilt immediately after and I always just assumed the dog would hate me forever because of that moment for years. I feel like this was one of the first times I let out anger. I feel like I blame things on myself for years to the point where I can’t even consider the other persons feelings enough.
I have memories as a young girl in dressing rooms with my mom being extremely demanding about getting the clothes I wanted and I’d have fits in the dressing room and fume with anger rambling cruel things. I have memories as a teen where I’d go grocery shopping as a kid and be mouthing off my mom cruel words the entire time.
In college I’ve sent my parents dozens of cruel texts demanding for them to send me money- usually just a few bucks. But I can start typing and spamming and demanding and getting cruel with my language. Just rambling cruel thing and my dad apparently said it’s like I have a stream of consciousness.
I have memories of being 6-10 and standing still, staring straight past my patents and I’d start screaming “AHHHH” with wife eyes and an open mouth but it wasn’t like a controlled thing- it was like I was checked out
I don’t really fight with friends much but with a guy I was talking to I sent him really cruel drunk texts. He was in the wrong but spamming someone with angry texts and name calling is messed up no matter how drunk
But my parents aren’t great. I have memories of being five years old and having my mom jab me with markers repeatedly, rip up my shirt while I wore it, and tackle me while lightly banging my head into the floor. She’s taken pictures of my stomach and giggled to herself even though I’m slim. She’s made comments about how the dogs think I’m evil and my friends would hate the real me. She thinks humor is mocking and teasing someone and goes way to far. She randomly acts really stupid because she wants people to laugh and giggle at her like she’s cute and she gets really giddy. I also had a controlling friend who treated me like her pet when I was ages 11-14. She wouldn’t let anyone else compliment me and would deny others compliments but wouldn’t let me have other friends and would try to tear me down.
I am diagnoses with adhd-pi. The medicine makes it so I can slow down my thoughts and get words out right. I just am confused. Could there be an anxiety, depression, ocd, BPD, bipolar, cptsd??
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2020.10.28 21:22 KouncilofKyle878 Mom bang teens pornpics

AND HERE WE GO
DAY 1
I am walked through the complex that sits under the building. The employee area. There is a break room full of arcade games, some Mario Kart Wii games, and couches. Seems relaxing, promising. Also deceptive. Unless you work for Google no break room is ever this fun. especially in America. I meet my other managers. They inform me of my job duties. I will be dressed as Spider-man and take photos with children for 8 hours a day. Hm. Okay. It can’t be that bad. I’m sure the costume will be one of those that have built in muscles that make me look larger than life. Kids always like that stuff. I am walked over to the locker area. There are at least 40 odd lockers with giant trunks stacked in the corners. One of the managers unlocks a trunk. "Annand here is your costume, Spider-man!" He lifts up my suit. More or less it is the exact replica of that funny "green man" full body suit with the spider man logo. I can tell its skin tight. I’m 5’11 a solid 170 with a thyroid problem so I never gain weight. I have always been lean, no fat, all muscle but never bulky with mass superhero muscle in any way. I can feel a tingle of fear snake around my stomach. "We’ll see you tomorrow. 10am." Half smile. "Looking forward to it." "See ya Spidey”
DAY 2
I’m going to kill myself. It is just before noon and I am in my not so secret superhero changing room. two people have come and gone so far. Both with a nod and a good-morning. The second guy I could tell started laughing when he left the bathroom. But it’s a job I tell myself. I always had a little motivator in my head in times like this.
"Remember the time you drank tequila for the first time and had to be at Chili’s for work the next morning? Remember you’ve always been worse." A coworker comes into the bathroom, says hi and escorts me up one floor to the main level. I ride in a service elevator from the locker room and feel pretty cool for the moment. Walls are concrete and militaristic. I AM Spider-man. Then the elevator door opens and the feeling goes away. Floods of bright lights, colors, and toys crowd my vision. Children. Children are everywhere. I’m an animal person. Children annoy me. When I see them screaming in public I always want to yell "ME! I SHOULD BE THE ONE SCREAMING NOT YOU LITTLE SHIT BIRD!" I am taking over to my spot where I’ll be posing for pictures with children and adults if they want. I get a ten minute break ever hour which a bit ridiculous but I decide not to complain or break the rules just yet. The remainder of the day is spent taking photos with children and telling them I can’t show my webs while I’m on the clock. Of course the children don’t get the sarcasm. Little idiots.
DAY 6
I have not even made it a full week yet and the insults start coming in. The usual and most common jokes are always from packs of teenagers. Now teenagers are the worst kind of people. Especially when in pack of 4 or more. They don’t hold back. "Hey Spidey climb on the wall!" "You too skinny to be Spider Man!" "More Like Crack-Man! Drink some muscle milk!" "Whack ass Spidey."
My God. I want to destroy every one of them. Throw them off the balcony to the Lego section below. Show some real Spider-Man skill. But Sadly I cannot. I just stand there in my corner and wait for the crowd to pass. Everyone is laughing except me.Even my coworkers thinks it’s funny. Mascot life is hard. Now I understand how they all must feel. A burning desire to just go postal in a suit that has a permanent smile on. It is the stuff of nightmares and it playing out perfectly in my head. I know I’m skinny but damn give me a break. I decide I hate Being Spider-Man and must change venue or costume by any means. As I am leaving my station for the final break of the day I notice another Mascot on the same floor as I. One who is at least 3 feet taller than me and who is built of solid mass. Just as I am about to enter the elevator I turn to my coworker. "Who is that?" "That’s Mark. The costume? That’s Jeffery the Giraffe." "You think they would let me where that some days in-between being Spider-man?" "Probably, Marks last day is Friday." Success.
Day 9
I did it. I sweet talked and batted my eyes at my boss to transfer me from back alley Spider-man to front of the house show stopper, Jeffrey. And thank the Gods. Once I learn that not only myself but two other men wear the same suit that gets sprayed with freeze daily and questionably washed weekly I had to make it a point to hang up the costume. I didn’t want to represent a hero from Queens. No one likes queens anyway. The underground locker room resembles a bunker with its concrete walls and giant metal trunks that stack the ceiling in some corners. I find the trunk labeled Jeffery and unlock the hinges. The trunk is so large it’s like opening a chest when playing The Legend of Zelda. Instead of bright lights and discovering the hook shot I unearth the Giraffe costume. A morbid twist on Majorca’s mask if we’re still talking Zelda, but the shoe fits. The bottom half of the suit consist of the lower stomach and legs with built in suspenders to hold the frame up. The shoes are hoofed feet that are obviously XX-large. Its clownish looking and it actually makes me laugh. Maybe this gig will be better than the last. Next up is are the arms which essentially a super oversized orange furry jacket. Its scratchy like hotel towels but manageable. Catching a glance of myself in the mirror is very funny. For the finale I need assistance putting on the torso/head hybrid. The thing is made out of wiring, plexus-glass (I think) and a thin layer of fuzz. The cryptic smile ever so present I welcome my transformation. After my coworker, who at this point also finds it humorous I called her my hand-maiden, helps drop the final piece on my shoulders radios that we are set and we make our way to the elevator.
Jeffery is so tall I have to walk at an angle so my new face does not scratch the ceiling. In the elevator I’m noticing the considerable amount of weight the top half possesses. Especially on my shoulders. There are foam shoulder pad so the hard plastic does not cut into my joints. Thoughtful. We enter the elevator and go up to the main floor. The doors open and I am walked to the front entrance. Dozens of children see Jeffery and come running up to me. Wanting hugs and high fives. Everyone loves high fives so I give them out as I make my way to my final landing zone. T-minus 8 hours until I can go home.
When I was Spider-man my first insult came at a little under 20 minute or so. While being Jeffery my first negative encounter came just after my first break, a little over an hour. However maddening this was refreshing. It was clear Jeff received more love than Peter Parker. You see, people do hate Queens. I struggle out of my costume and head to the break room for lunch. I have been here a little over a week and still have not made any regular work friends. So I eat my subway sandwich at a lone table, still wearing the bottom half of my costume. Maybe that’s why no one sits with me. But then again I really don’t feel the need to try and befriend the echelon on employees where the median age is 17. There is a slight tingle of tension in my shoulders and neck. Obviously from the top half is Jeff. I make a mental note to take a hot bath when I get home.
Day 11
Wake up. Roll out of bed. Walk Zoey. Feed Zoey. A couple days of being Jeffery has given me a sore back and neck. I can feel it when I bend or open a door. It is still early and no one is awake in my garbage 3 bedroom apartment in Harlem. I lay down on the kitchen floor in the only pose I enjoy doing in yoga, Child’s pose. This feels great for my lower back and I hope Of course Zoey thinks I want to play and tries to assault my face with dog food breath kisses. What a good dog she is. I put her back in bed with Siobhan, take 3 painkillers, and head out the door. Sitting on my treasure trunk in the bunker I am staring into my French press, wondering If my relationship with Siobhan has run its course. If we are only being kept together because of the dog. There is not much love going on these days. What with her out ravenous drinking and lash outs in public, to my own drunken make out with a coworker one night at a karaoke bar. We really don’t trust each other anymore. Held together by a string for a reason unknown. We fight and scream and make love and apologize. My thoughts turn to day dreams that turn to a vocal conversation with myself long for Shawna (handmaiden) to come in the room.
“Good morning Jeffery”. She has started calling my new alias. She finds it funny so we keep the running joke of the Adventures of Jeffrey and Handmaiden going. “Morning Shawna”. My eyes haven’t left my coffee. “Talking to yourself again?” I break my stare and give her a shrugged off smile “Just going over my plans for world domination”. Shawna giggles. “Well people might find it hard to take you seriously in that costume. You should try something a bit more imposing.” “Maybe. If I wield firearms or long swords that might do the trick.” “Or maybe a costume change”. “You could be onto something. Any ideas?” She bites back a laugh. “I was thinking, I don’t know. Spider-man?”. I have no expression on my face. Shawna is laughing very hard, almost surprised at her own joke. I’ll give this one to her. That was smooth. I join in and we have a good laugh until the radio chimes in. Time to go to work. “Time to go cheer up the world. Ready Jeff?” “”Ready hand maiden.” The day goes by smoothly. No insults, no insane children, minor back pain. Its only when the sun sets that the real animals come out. First comes the tickle in my nose. Some rogue fluffiest from the skin of my suit have somehow entered inside and give me a sneezing fit. I am missing high fives from kids my sneezing is so violent. If my giraffe neck was bendable it would seem I was head banging. Shawna can see something is off. “You okay Kyle?” I put my oversized hand up to my throat, where my hidden point of view is. “Shah you can’t use my real name. Global domination remembers?”
“Ok. Jeffery. Are you ok?” “I can’t stop sneezing. Fucking fuzz is in my nose. It’s disgusting in here now. Help.” “Want me to radio in for a break?” “Please. The enemy has poisoned me.” I mime a dramatic fall and slowly drop my 9 foot body onto the floor. The children around dog pile me. They have thwarted the might Jeffery and the parents laugh and smile. “Manager said to go take a break. Let’s go hero.” After a quick cleanup for the inside of my suit, I splash some water on my face and head back upstairs. I am not even back for a full 15 minutes when Thor and Batman walk in. Times Square is full of pan handlers that dress up as various super heroes and charge money to take a photo with them. There are only a few really good looking costumes. The rest have the trailer park trashy look my Spider-man suite did. And in walk fat Thor and Black Batman. I guess they weren’t having much luck on the street and decided to walk in toys R US. They see me almost immediately. I give them a friendly wave, an offering of peace. We are on neutral ground gentlemen. Well, really this is my turf but I am being paid and can only make so much of a scene. Fat Thor and Black Batman do not return the wave. Instead they look at each other, nod, and come by way. Shawna can’t stop laughing on how fat Thor is. “That Viking is so fat. Poor guy”. “Do not let his looks fool you. He is the God of thunder.” “And you are a talking Giraffe.” “Damnit Shawna, these must be the men who poisoned me, here to finish the job.” Her hand covers her face. Bat man and Thor approach me both with fists in the air. Okay, they want to box. This will be a fun little show for the kids. And that is what turns out to be. Just a couple of guys who are also bored with the day’s events. I entertain them. We slap box for a couple minutes. Children cheer on Jeff they cheer on Batman and ask why is Thor so fat. I poke Thor in the belly which pisses the God off and he actually swings his hammer, albeit plastic knocks me backward. I smack his hammer out of his hand and Batman interviews. They are escorted out and I am victorious. Shawna gives me a high five. “Great job Jeff, you managed to piss off the God of Thunder.” “I didn’t see you helping my situation. You are a lousy side-kick” “It was just too good not to record. Now I have evidence that you won this round.” “No is not the time to celebrate. They will be back. They always come back.” I take a very late break and eat a sandwich in the locker room just before I go home. It is so quiet. A sudden wave of sadness hits me thinking about heading home. Responsibilities. Adulating. Goodness my back hurts. Shawna walks past me heading to the elevator. “Thanks. Same time tomorrow?” “Same time.” “Goodnight Kyle,” “Goodnight.”
DAY 19
I feel as if I am 100 years old. Even walking to the bathroom hurts. Simple ibuprofen won’t help this. I need a drip of morphine. I need a Percocet martini. I can barely look down without a shooting pain jolting up and down my spine. I can’t even see if I am pissing in the toilet my neck hurts so bad. Like clockwork, the moment I get up is the moment Zoey gets up and follows me wherever I go, waiting for food and waiting for a walk. I look down as far as I can manage without crying and see I am indeed peeing in the toilet and not the dog. “Sorry girl, mom is gonna have to walk you this morning” Thankfully the window sill in the kitchen is high enough to be a small chair so I manage to sit on while eating a bowl of cheerios. Of course Zoey sits with me hoping I drop a cheerio. She’s a better side kick than Shawna. I laugh to myself.
It is however, Zoey’s lucky morning. Not only do I drop a couple cheerios I drop my spoon along with it. How odd, I guess I wasn’t paying attention to my grip. Zoey vacuums up the rogue cheerios and I reach for my spoon when a lightning bolt of fire races from my tailbone to the left side of my neck. Firewood’s cracks and pops in my ears and I am bent at a 90 degree angle when I fall over like a tree in the woods, my head hits the floor before my bowl of cheerios. Zoey quickly devours every last drop. Don’t worry Zoe I’m fine. Don’t mind me. I can already tell what has happened. I just threw my back out. This amount of pain is extraordinary. I haven’t felt pain like this since I got food poisoning from a chicken gyro on the upper west side. In this moment I prefer death. Give me the chair, hit me with a bus, I’ll even take a full minute of brass knuckles to the face I have never felt such a crippling torture. I try to move my legs but the electricity is like hot spider webs running through my body, pinning me to the floor. It feels like every nerve in my back is on fire with some specific points being the epicenter of all things torturous and evil. Talking makes it worse and breathing is a hard labor. So I groan for help as best I can. Zoey is of little use. She just licks my face instead of helping me up, damn dog. I groan out a sentence. “MMnnggoh. Ghhet. Sshvaahn.” Zoey listens to nothing I say. Instead she lays down on her side and stares in my eyes. Can’t blame her for just wanting to hang. Maybe this is her version of helping. She doesn’t leave my side. Loyal to the end. “Goodahhg.”
Day 31
I miss an entire week of work. I have no choice. If you have never thrown out your back please believe me when I say there are few lasting pains I can think of I wish on no one. I will liken it to food poisoning, getting shot in the stomach and survives but the ambulance took 3 hours to get to you, or having tooth pics slowly shoved under your finger and toenails. It was that bad. I was bed ridden for the first few days, having my lovely girlfriend so willingly bring me food or help me to the bathroom when I needed to go. She’d never say anything terrible but I could always here her grumble and would always see her roll her eyes. It’s been two almost two years. It has gotten to the point where I’m think almost daily, why am I still with her? For an occasional compliment and a pity fuck? I can’t afford a place on my own and neither can she plus we have a dog! Maybe she also realizes this and we are both waiting for the opportune moment to abandon ship. At least I have Zoey. OH GOD ZOEY SHE WILL TAKE ZOEY. I make a mental note to revisit this escape plan in the future. After 5 days I finally am able to lift myself out of bed and make it around the apartment on my own. I have upgraded from laying back to crawling. With the help of the dozen Valium I bought off Siobhan’s coworker I can manage walking. I would like a full body exon-skeleton walking for me but I make do with what I have. Shocked but not surprised.
**5 years go by without writing anything***
Well this isn’t something I thought I’d come back to now is there?
Now where was I? Ah yes, worked at toy’s RUS. threw back out, have a terrible GF. On valium. Got it. I suppose this is a weird memoir of isolated events from my past. Funny, sad, exhilarating and questionable. Embellishments will be made for the safety of some but no promises. I’ll explain the best I can of this insane time in my life up until my break up with Siobhan. I’ll try to keep it funny and honest.
The finale of Jeffery. Once my back became tolerable and I was able to move around the world freely with little pain, I went back to work. For the next following week I moved slowly in the giraffe suit, if at all. I convinced my boss to let me sit in a chair for the second half of my shifts. I am a shell of my former excitement. I once was excited to be a hero and now I wish for the destruction of everything around me. Not even my shield maiden, Shawna can cheer me up. We don’t crack jokes, I don’t hi five kids, I don’t want to work here anymore. I think, I’m still young, I can get out. I can get out of this place and get a different job, make more money, finally get my own place and move on completely SOLO. But every time I have an inclination if hope and voice it when I get back to my apt, it is only back handed with pessimism from the girlfriend. A plan. I need a plan. Remember to check back in with yourself.
My final day at toys R us was one of my finer moments of chaos. Not knowing it was my last day, I went in with my usual numbness of emotion towards everyone. It’s crazy how I can be silent for HOURS. Maybe it’s an only child thing? The suit goes on, Shawna helps me put on every piece, asking how my morning is, if my back is feeling better. I respond with short answers with warmth that she deserves. Of all the people here she was always the nicest to me. Laughed at my jokes, even poked fun at me when I was being an idiot. I think about it now in present day. We rode that elevator up to the surface one last time and didn’t say a word. Maybe we didn’t need to say anything, but I’ll remember her. Jeffery and the shield maiden off to do battle, one last time. Like clockwork, when the elevators open A supernova of bright light and the shrills of children and teenagers fill my ear and flood my eyes. It’s annoying. I am annoyed. I walk to the front. JEFFERY! HI JEFFERY! JEFFERY CAN I HAVE A HUG?!? JEFFERY CAN YOU GIVE MY SON A HIGH FIVE AND MY DAUGHTER AND CAN WE TAKE A PICTURE ARE YOU HOT IN THERE? 3 hours have passed. It is a Saturday. It is nice outside and feels like all 5 million people in the NYC have converged on 42nd street. It all came to a screeching halt when I saw a group-no-armada of Hasidic kids/pre-teens come through the door. All with their curly side burns and same outfits and yelling oh God the yelling. And they are coming straight for me. I can only let out a "shiiiit" before 15 of the little monsters have me surrounded. The finale battle has begun.
I am surrounded. Being hit and punched and pushed from all sides. Everyone wants a picture or a high five or just to push the giant mascot around. I am quickly growing angry and start to softly push them back, saying one at a damn time while muttering "you little fuckers" behind my giraffe armor. I finally corral them in front of me so I have them all in my field of view. I ask what they want and one kid says a high five. This starts a snowball effect. Everyone wants a damn high five. Fine. If this is what will get you all to go run and get lost on somewhere else in the store, fine heres TWO high fives. What I don’t know is that there is a tiny Jew below my field of vision that I can’t see and to him it must have looked like I snuffed his give five. All of a sudden I hear "hey, I wanted a high five!!" And when he said the word "five" he punched me square in the balls. Right in the nuts. Now if you’ve never been punched in the balls when you aren’t expecting it, which is pretty much all the time, your body instantly shuts down and goes into sleep mode. Except there is no sleep. Only pain. I can imagine from the crowds point of view that it was rather comical. A giant giraffe grabs his junk and falls over. I’m sure there are videos on YouTube of mascots being assaulted and the views go up into the millions. Why? Because mascots are silly punching bags. I hit the floor. My ears are ringing, my vision is blurred and my balls HURT. oh God I want to go home I hate this place. Why is this happeninggggggg. I suddenly feel a *thump* on my body. Followed by another followed by 10 more. The little shit birds are dog piling me. If taking a shot to the groin wasn’t bad enough dear sweet Jesus help me this is only making it worse. Thankfully my shell is my armor protecting me. All I can hear is laughing all around me and kids slapping my body. The noise is becoming deafening and I quickly come to my boiling point. It’s like the rest moment in Dragon ball Z when Goku witnesses Frezia kill Krillin. He can’t hold back his rage any longer and ascends to the first level of super saying. That’s what I was about to do ascend. Well over 9,000. I push the pain away and lift myself off the ground, shaking off the small army of tiny Jews. They tumble and fall. I hear "WHOAS" and "OMPFS" as I stand up. Time freezes for a moment as I look at every single human that is in my view. A standoff. What will happen next? It would have been even better if a tumble weed blew past my feet.
"Fuck this".
This is my winning moment. I’m out this place for good. I turn to leave and walk back towards the elevator. I tilt my head down so I walk at an angle because the suit is taller than the ceiling. A thought strikes me. A chaotic one. Should I? I should. I will. I swing my head side to side as I head back to the elevator. Knocking Legos and stuffed animals off the shelves. My war path leaves children running away in all directions. The dead bodies of furrbies and barbies below my feet as I make my way to the finish line. I bet to all the toddlers in strollers it looks like a dinosaur is attacking everyone. That’s half true, I am causing absolute mayhem. Teenagers and fellow employees are in shock and hysterics. I make my way to the elevator and press the down button. As I step on I have a quick feeling of doubt. Where is Shawna? Maybe she just didn’t want to be an accomplice. I look out at the crowd in front me. Toys everywhere, children clinging to their parents who are bewildered, looking at a giraffe with an ever so cryptic smile on its face as the doors close shut. I sit on the trunk with the giraffe head off my body sitting in front of me. I look into its dead eyes and laugh. I laugh so hard I feel like my back is going to pop out of place again. I give Jeff a quick pat on the head and thank him for his service and wish him the best. I grab my things and make my great escape out the side exit before management can come down and demand an explanation. I am gone like a shadow in the wind. I hope they’ll sing songs about me for ages to come.
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2020.10.25 16:12 fantasia-x Pornpics bang teens mom

I've talked to friends ( around 18 ) and most of them told me it's fine, but it might be only as from teen's perspective so I'm willing to be judged!
I'm a 19F and my parents live separately because of their jobs. My father sometimes calls me in the afternoon and that's it.
Several nights ago, I woke up to my mom tried to open my door at 3 AM-ish, and I could hear her telling my dad that I was asleep since the door is locked ( I sleep with locked doors for some reason ) and I think my father asks her to called me because she then bangs on the door and called me, which I responded with a loud 'what?'
Then she walks off basically saying that I'm asleep, and since I was woken up, I decided to check on my phone a bit before sleeping.
Then my father video-called me, which I answered and basically told him to call me later because it's late at night, he asks why I don't want to talk to him and l said I'm sleepy and he hung up.
Then my mom called me telling me that I'm an AH for it and I told her if he called in the morning it would be okay, and I'm not online for long anyway. I was a bit pissed here because she knows that I was asleep earlier, but still like this.
She then demanded that I call my father and I did but he hung up after few seconds.
I think my father is mad because he didn't call again after that, but I don't want to call him to apologize about that because I think I give a fair argument about how I am sleepy I was and asks him to call me later in the morning—and because we're going to visit him in several days.
AITA?
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2020.10.20 19:34 RobinAnonymous Mom bang teens pornpics

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
-
I think I've killed them.
That's all that is running through my head right now. I've killed them.
I've killed them.
I've fucking killed them.
No, I can't think like that. I have to stay positive.
It's so fucking hard to stay positive right now.
As much as I want to tell you what's going on right at this moment, I have to go back days from now, before everything exploded. Before I lost both myself and my friends. I have to write all of this down so I can register it fully, and accept it. I have to accept it. Because right now I can't. I've tried writing this so many times, but my head is so fucking foggy, and my thoughts feel like candy floss. The phone's screen is so bright and it hurts my eyes. I have to concentrate. That's what I keep telling myself. I have to breathe. Just keep breathing. It's not like I'm hiding anything anymore. They know I'm sober. They know I'm awake, and it's only a matter of time before they come for me too; do the same thing to me. Oh god, they're going to kill me. I'm going to die.
Maybe I deserve it, though. After all, I think I've killed their biggest stars.
I'm going to start from when I last updated you. Once again, I have no recollection of how many days I've lost. James took them from me. I want to check it myself, but part of me would rather stay ignorant. All I know is that it is sunny outside. The sky is blue, and the trees are golden brown. Fall. My favourite season. It feels weird to remember that. That I have a favourite season. Katie's favourite is Summer. She likes to go to the lake with her friends, and swim in the river. I know more about my character than I know myself, and every second that goes by I feel like I've been tipped upside down and emptied of everything I am. So, I'm going to remind myself before it's too late.
My name is Robin Harley.
At least, that's how you know me. I wrote my real name before this one, because it feels like it is fading, along with everything I am. But I know who I am. My favourite book is Kafka On the Shore. My favourite food is chicken alfredo. I have a dog called Julia, and I'm terrified of the dark. Such small things, like a kid making a list. This is easier for me, though. I must remember who I am, before it's taken away. For James I must be Katie, and for you, I'm Robin. I miss being called by my real name. My mother named me after her favourite flower. I grew up thinking it was a stupid name. I wanted to be called a pretty name like Holly or Charlotte. My friends often asked me why my name was spelled the way it was, and how to pronounce it. As a kid, I had been mortified. But as I grew up, I began to love my name, treasure what it meant to my mom to call me it.
I didn't think something as simple as a name, an identity, could be snatched so cruelly. But it has. I almost feel like I'm writing a story. Like we're just characters in someone's coerced reality. That's ironic, considering the plan our network has for us. I'm nothing but a puppet in James's sick game. I'm a shell for Katie Parker, and everything that is me, that is [REDACTED] he plans to eradicate, like it's that easy. Like taking away who I am, my consciousness is like child's play.
It's the blood stains that I can't stop thinking about. So much blood, so much life draining away like it was nothing. LIKE THEY WERE NOTHING. LIKE THEY WERE NOTHING.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I'm not making sense. I can't make sense right now, even as I read while I type, I might as well be reading hieroglyphics. The floor underneath my feet feels like liquid when I stand on it. There is blood on Rory's bed. It's only a little bit, a smear of crimson staining light pink pillow cases. But it's twisting my stomach. My chest is aching. Every time I look at his bed, I want to scream. I want to scream until my throat is fucking raw, until my lungs have collapsed. It's Noah all over again, but at that point, Noah survived. I didn't think he would, after seeing his body convulsing in front of me, flickering eyes still glued to Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck bleeding through ancient static. I'll never forget the way his head had dropped limply, bouncing on his chest like a puppet severed from their strings. His fingers, which had been frantically tapping out Morse code had gone still. Everything that was him, that was Noah, had gone still, and for one heart-stopping moment I thought I'd lost him.
I didn't lose him. You already know that.
Thanks to Derek Marley's confession, I know now that they weren't trying to kill Noah. Instead, they were using his body like a host, as if his character was a parasite. I've gone through the stages in my head so many times I know them off by heart. James's voice still crackling through static on each video clip still haunts my thoughts, as if the man himself was burrowing his way into my mind, forcing himself inside every piece of me.
Stage 1: Empty out.
Stage 2: Programming.
Stage 3: Insertion.
Stage 4:
Stage four...
Stage Four...
Stage Four...
I thought I could still save Noah. I could save Rory, and Izzie and Lana.
I thought I could save them.
I thought I could save them.
The blood on Rory's sheets makes me sick, and I can't stop thinking about them.
I can't stop THINKING ABOUT THEM.
I'll get to that. Because I'm here to tell our story, in what I hope is some kind of cohesive, even if it's a seemingly never-ending stream of consciousness which does not make sense. I'm sorry about that. I don't cut out what I write. I leave everything in, because I want to look back at this at some point, if I get out of this hell-hole. I want to re-read everything that took place. Every thought I had, even if it makes the least lick of sense. Every emotion I've felt, I want to feel it again. I want to torture myself again, but I know I'll never feel the way I'm feeling right now. Numb. Nothing. I feel nothing. Maybe I am Katie. Maybe James forced her into me during my daze where the days bled together, the pitch dark and sunlight colliding, but my thoughts weren't mine. And when they were, when clarity took over, I struggled to understand why I was so fucking numb. Why I couldn't cry. Why I'd stripped Rory's bed of his covers, and thrown them in the wardrobe. Why I sat against it for what felt like oblivion, with my back against cool, hard wood, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't open it again.
I couldn't look inside.
Because I would break apart all over again.
Now my head is clear, I know why. The sun is less of a confusing haze, and I can think a little clearer . So, I'm going to do what I always do; since I found you. Now that my mind is clear, I'm going to stop thinking about the wardrobe, and instead lose myself in you.
Inside this stupid phone which isn't even mine. It hasn't got my pastel blue phone case, and the lock-screen of me and my mother standing under a maple tree in Japan. It has none of that. Not my Apple playlist or my Instagram page. My endless collection of notes which is just shopping lists, or casting calls, or snippets of poems that come to me, and mom just a text or phone call away. My phone is gone. Except this phone feels like mine, even if there's none of my personality, a total blank. I've kept it hidden for so long, a secret under my mattress. The one thing stopping me from losing my mind.
I'm going to write to you, and leave nothing out. I'm going to tell you everything in as much detail as possible, despite my shaking hands and concaving stomach.
Writing to you is my outlet. I know not many are reading, and that most of you are sceptical, but I'm truly grateful for each and every comment you leave. Thank you for translating Noah's message. Thank you for telling me what was in the shot in Derek's office. Without you, I would have crumbled my now. So if you're reading, I beg of you, please keep going. If you have to, tear apart everything I say. Take notice of hints that I leave, like places that I have to blank out. Because you're my only hope right now. You're my only connection to the real world, to a reality I've been taken away from.
So please don't give up on me. Tell me you understand. Tell me you want some kind of update. Because you are all I have.
I say this, because once again, I need your help. Hopefully for the last time.
The last time I updated you, I'd made what I thought was the biggest mistake of my life. slamming Rory over the head with a table lamp. He had gone limp, falling back, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. I took your advice and did not use the shot. I didn't know what it would do to him, especially if he had some kind of brain or head injury. Instead of doing what my heart was screaming at me to do, I slammed the door shut and removed the book. Guards, I thought hysterically. There were too many guards, and I would never leave the others. I felt selfish. Wrong. Like my heart had ben ripped out of my chest. But I held myself, and I stayed with Rory all night, waiting for him to wake up.
Except he didn't, and the more time progressed, the glaring red letters on my bedside clock flickering later and later, the sick feeling in my gut worsened.
"Rory." I felt like I was on fire, climbing onto his bed and lifting his head onto my lap. I felt for bumps and bruises, but mostly blood. I checked the pillow and sheets, but they were clean. He was breathing. I kept telling myself that, pressing my hand against his chest. He didn't move. His body stayed flaccid, draped against me. He was freezing cold, so I bundled him under the blankets. Laying next to him, my mind screamed at me to do something. Tell James. I was at war with myself. If Rory really was hurt and needed medical attention, I was killing him to save myself. So I didn't get caught.
Did I care more about my castmate, or being caught sober? Especially if Rory was just knocked out. That thought haunted me well into the midnight hours. I fell in and out of sleep, but I didn't dream. I was too panicked to relax and allow my mind some kind of peace. I couldn't. I was drifting off to sleep for what felt like the tenth time, when something...snapped. At least, that's what it sounded like. I shot up, disoriented, and quickly realised that the same buzzing, the same noise of a swarm of bees, was slicing into the silence I'd found myself wrapped in. My attention went straight to Rory, and sure enough, it was coming from him. But something was... different. The first time I'd heard it, the sound was like prickling electricity or the erratic wings of an insect.
But this time it sounded like popping. Like something was snapping, crackling inside my friend's head. Slowly, I slipped off of Rory's bed and checked him once more. Still no movement. His eyes were still shut. His breathing was still normal.
Knowing what was inside Rory, I knew the sound must have been the chip, what James had inserted into his eye. It was his character, the parasitic Mac Price. Briefly, I thought about attempting to get it out with the scalpel I'd hidden under my bed. But I could blind him. With one wrong move, I could blind him. So, I crawled back into my own bed and buried my head in pillows that smelled of lavender. It reminded me of home.
I don't know how long I slept for. All I remember is being woken by a flock of birds screeching outside. As soon as I brushed off slumber, reality hit me hard.
Rory.
The room was quiet, and my heart sank into my gut. I twisted around in bed, expecting to see my castmate still draped over sickly yellow covers, eyes shut.
The first thing I noticed was Rory's bed was empty. The covers and pillows were on the ground, and when I frantically searched for him, I found him.
Rory was standing in the same stance, straight shoulders, arms by his side. He was staring forward, that familiar vacant look splayed across his expression. He was already dressed in Mac attire; a short sleeved shirt and jeans. The early morning sun was streaming through the blinds, setting strands of his brown hair alight. His eyes were wide, earthy brown, a wrinkle between his brows. At that moment, I took a snapshot in my mind. If James was going to turn me into Katie, then I was going to remember him.
I was going to remember myself. When I happened to look into the reflection of James's glasses when he was leaning close, I glimpsed a girl who was far too thin, malnutrition transforming once healthy cheeks to ashen white. I saw tired eyes staring back, vacant and foggy with the phantom drug I was swallowing every day. I saw mousy blonde hair which used to be plastered across magazine stands, beauty magazines and teen Vogue. It seemed crazy that that girl was me. The girl who played Katie Parker. Because underneath the preppy blonde ponytail and face of makeup, there was me. It made me wonder. Did people see it? Did the public know, or did they look past all of that, to see their favourite character? Is that all I was to them?
Katie.
Fucking Katie Parker.
I didn't know what to think, whether to be relieved that I hadn't seriously hurt Rory, or frustrated that he was still under James's control. I was speechless, my mouth opening and closing, words choking my throat. I wanted to say so much, but all I really wanted to do was bury my head in his shoulders and sob until my chest was aching. Before I could open my mouth, or move, there was the sound of familiar footsteps approaching our room, and I dived up, practically throwing myself beside Rory, slipping back into my façade. Standing shoulder to shoulder as usual, we waited for James. But when the door opened, and the writer walked in with his usual wide smile and twinkling eyes, I could have sworn Rory had flinched ever so slightly. It wasn't noticeable, at least not to James.
But to me, I felt it. I felt the tremor that ran through him, his shoulder bouncing against mine. Something inside me ignited, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I had hope; hope that braining Rory with the lamp had knocked out the chip connected to his iris. Except at that moment I refused to get properly hopeful. No way. I had to keep my façade. Even if all I wanted to do was turn to Rory, and demand if he was himself. If he was like me, awake and aware, struggling to hide behind a character.
Instead, I played along as usual. We were given the pill, which I had mastered the art of hiding behind my bottom teeth. I swallowed with emphasis and opened my mouth so James could lean in. He did, the glint in his eyes sending ice sliding down my spine.
"Kids." He addressed us, spreading his arms in a greeting. "How did you like last night? Did you enjoy your late night entertainment?"
Something struck me, like a knife stabbing into my back. The TV, I thought, struggling to stay completely immobile. But at the corner of my eye, it was back to where James had originally placed it, the ancient screen facing forwards, instead of towards the wall where I had shoved it. James seemed none the wiser, and I allowed myself to let out a breath. As usual, Rory and I didn't reply. James carried the usual, a brown paper bag full of breakfast sandwiches and two plastic white cups of water.
"Robin." James nodded at me. "You look like you're making progress!" He winked. "Perhaps I should take you for a consultation after today's shoot. How does that sound, hmm?"
I didn't move, keeping my gaze glued to him, waiting for him to look away, mentally begging the bastard to get distracted. Derek's confession was still on my mind, and what the network and James had collectively done to my castmates. And that I was next.
TBD. To be determined. I had to fight back a shiver.
Struck with the sudden overwhelming urge to scratch at my right eye, beads of sweat slipped down the back of my neck. James cocked his head and chuckled when I only stared back, just like he wanted. He was used to this, used to my body working the way he wanted, twisting and turning the way he wanted, my submissive eyes drinking him in, and nothing coming out of my mouth. I could practically see the glee lighting up his eyes every time I was forced to stand like a soldier, awaiting orders from his smug mouth.
"Huh." The writer hummed, pinching my chin. "I'll take that as a yes, sweetheart."
Staying still, I forced myself not to breathe. James moved onto Rory, and handed the pill to my castmate. "Mr Gallagher!" He beamed. "I'm pleased to tell you that you will be entering stage four today. Along with Mr Keaton, as well as Miss Faraday and Bright."
Bile slithered up my throat, but I still didn't move, my gaze falling to the carpet, burning into each fibre. I wanted to scream, but the words wouldn't come out. James's words felt like lightning bolts. They were going ahead with stage four with Rory, Noah, Lana and Izzie, and I couldn't stop it. The Writer's words had not left my head, still alive in my skull, prodding and poking until I couldn't bear it. The complete removal of consciousness, James had said. Which was them. Whatever was left of my friends, what hadn't already been purged from them, tearing them from themselves, those last flickers of what I loved. He was going to take it away. James was going to take it away forever.
And what would be left: nothing. Just a shell, a pretty face for their character.
I'd heard James loud and clear. "Give him a few weeks to settle in, and then we can move onto the final stage. Complete removal of lingering consciousness. Of course, we can replicate the young man's personality easily for press days and of course the fans. That will be easy. There will be no need for the boy. He will be disposed of, do you understand me?"
Disposed of. My ears were roaring. How was James planning on disposing on them? What did that even mean? His words were cutting deep. I felt sick. No, I was going to be sick. My cheeks felt like they were on fire, and my legs were ready to give-way.
"Why?"
Mac's all-too-familiar American twang sliced cleanly through my thoughts.
My head snapped up. For a disorienting moment I forgot I was supposed to be keeping behind a façade, and a hysterical bubble of laughter climbed its way up my throat. I hadn't laughed in so long, and it almost felt alien to me, but I managed to swallow it down. Rory's expression was still blank, still vacant, but the crease between his brows had grown. His lip was slightly curled into what might have been a frown.
He looked... confused. Which at that point, it was better than nothing.
James's expression had twisted in a flash, his eyes slitting, lips twisting into a scowl. He was still holding the pill out to the boy, who wasn't taking it, his arms staying by his sides. The writer cleared his throat, composing himself despite being rattled.
"I'm sorry, what was that, Mr Gallagher?"
I risked keeping my gaze on Rory, and everything inside me was begging, screaming at him to lash out, teeth gritted, eyes blazing. Rory didn't do that, however. He seemed to flinch again, but this time it was noticeable. His whole body shuddered, his eyes flickering, before his right arm jolted, and he reached out and took the pill.
Maybe I was imagining it, but it was like Rory was glitching.
"Mr Gallagher?" Stepping forward, James watched Rory pop the pill into his mouth. My castmate's expression had gone blank once more, but his arm was still trembling, pressed against mine. Rory swallowed the pill and opened his mouth on order, before the writer pulled out a small hand-held torch. He clicked it on, motioning Rory towards him.
Rory complied, and let James shine the light in his eyes. He didn't even wince. James checked both eyes, leaning in close. "Huh." James clucked his tongue. "Perhaps you had some kind of momentary malfunction," He grabbed my castmate's bare arms and squeezed them, beaming. "Don't you worry, young man. Once the final stage is complete, there will be nothing to interfere with the programming. The original consciousness will be completely removed, which will of course be a relief for the two of us."
James's words didn't sink in. I didn't let them. If I did, I'd shatter there and then, and James would catch me out. So I didn't move. I didn't breathe, and blinked back the sting in my eyes.
"Understand?" James motioned for Rory to nod, and my castmate did, his arms falling limply back to his sides.
"Wonderful!" The writer started to go through the same old routine, briefing us on our schedules, as well as lecturing us on being on our best behaviour, despite knowing the two of us were under the influence of a mind altering pill, as well as a microchip forcing our characters inside our heads. I mostly tuned out, trying to think of a way to save the others from what I was sure was a fate worse than death. Derek Marley had said that participating in the project would haunt him forever. His last message to Noah was sincere, but he was right. Noah would never forgive him. None of us would.
I had to get them out.
James's voice faded into white noise, until he reached the door, and turned to the two of us. "Eat and get ready for the day, please. I want things to go smoothly, so make sure to be good kids." He chuckled and then winked. "Mr Gallagher, I'll see you after the shoot."
The writer gave me a dismissive wave. "Miss Harley, a guard will pick you up as usual and take you home, since I will be quite busy."
Nodding, as if he was reassuring himself everything was going to be just fine, James hurried out, whistling some old Disney song that I vaguely recognised.
When the door slammed shut, I let my breath go, dropping to my knees. Spitting the pill out, I swallowed hot bile in my throat, willing myself not to hurl. Hot tears were spilling down my cheeks and I couldn't stop them, no matter what I did. The severity of the situation came over me like waves of ice cold water, and I wanted to curl into a ball and disappear into the floor. I wanted to be anywhere else than that room with my brainwashed castmate. Who I knew I was about to lose in favour for a fictional character.
Bunching my fists into my eyes, I struggled to my feet and forced myself to the wardrobe we share, where my Katie attire was packed inside. I felt disgusting, still wearing the sweats I'd slept in. When I twisted to Rory, I was meant to ask him if his head was hurting, or he felt sick. Despite knowing my castmate was a submissive doll, I still wanted to know. But when I turned to my castmate, Rory was still standing in the same spot. He was staring at something, and when I edged closer, holding my breath, I realised the pill was pinched between his thumb and index finger. The colour was darker, dyed to an almost purple shade with his saliva. Looking closer, his expression was no longer blank. Instead, there was the slightest glimmer of awareness in his eyes.
I held onto that with everything I had.
"Rory?" I choked on his name, and he flinched again, turning to face me. I knew then, when my castmate's gaze landed on me, that something was wrong.
His eyes were twitching, which seemed to affect his whole face, his cheeks wet with tears. A million emotions flashed across his expression, and he pressed two fingers to his right eye. When I said his name again with the gutter of my throat, his gaze found mine again, but Rory didn't look at me, not really. His lip curled and his eyes slitted with pain and frustration, but there was no glint of recognition igniting in warm browns. At least, it wasn't the teasing smirk and warm glint which was Rory. Instead, it was all Mac. Still twitching, as if he was fighting his character for his own mind, Rory dropped the pill onto the carpet, and crushed it with his foot, before turning to me.
And then something stabilised. My castmate, or whatever was left of him, the parts of him still fighting back, trashing the pill, was shoved deep into the crevices of his own mind, and his character was bleeding through. Exactly who James wanted him to be. There was the recognition coming to life in another's boy's eyes. Sixteen-year-old Mac who had been crushing on Katie Parker since middle school. Not twenty-year-old Rory, who swung the other way and would in fact rather eat his own tongue than look at me like that.
"Hey, what are you waiting for?" Rory cocked his head. I could see so much put-on emotions in that one stare. Longing for the girl he crushed on, as well as the pain of looking at her, knowing she was with another guy. I saw his obsession to keep his youth alive, and live every day as his last. It was Mac's character. As well as being a lovable idiot, he was determined to make every day count. I half wondered if all of that had been programmed into the chip, which was currently forcing my friend's brain into compliance.
"Get dressed, we have school."
Staring back at him, I had the sudden urge to punch him square in the face. Maybe that might bring Rory back.
But it was too risky. Instead of replying to him, I showered and dressed as normal. That morning, the breakfast was different. Instead of the usual breakfast sandwich, there was a chocolate croissant each, individually wrapped in expensive looking paper, and what looked like two Starbucks coffee's to go. My mouth watered. I hadn't had anything sweet in what felt like weeks, unless that meant mindlessly chewing on a cupcake during my mediocre break on set.
I ate the croissant so fast I barely tasted the explosion of chocolate in my mouth. Combined with the coffee, it was like heaven. When Rory grabbed his and ate it in two bites before gulping down the coffee, the taste went sour in my mouth, and I had to swallow several times to avoid the croissant shooting back up my throat.
The unexpected sugary treat for breakfast wasn't an accident. Each breakfast item had been perfectly wrapped, like a gift. It was like a last supper, at least for Rory.
The sickly feeling followed me to set. It was the same routine. We drove to set, and I sat with my side pressed to Noah, as if being in close proximity to him would somehow change his fate. I was rushed to hair and make up, and two girls who gossiped about a new Netflix show they had been watching, buzzed around me, transforming me into Katie.
My hair was curled into effortless blonde rings, since we were in the midst of a homecoming dance episode, and glitter speckled my cheeks. All the glitter in the world could not hide the dark shadows under my eyes, so they gave up and remodelled my face so I barely recognised myself. We were filming outside that day, and the fall breeze was warm, tickling my bare shoulders. I wore a dress most of the morning, and stuck mostly with Noah. I spoke Katie's lines, acting as best as I could, even when I felt like I was shattering apart inside. We had a five minute break, and I stumbled around the set, trying to find everyone, keeping them in my line of sight, my heart speeding up when James appeared with a crumpled script and his phone. "Robin, Noah and Rory." He spoke up, his voice like a beacon to my castmates. Their heads snapped up from where they had been awkwardly circling craft services, grabbing finger foods and vanilla puddings stacked on plates.
Noah joined me quickly, sliding to my side. I tried not to think about the times I'd been freaking out about shooting, and him grabbing and squeezing my hand. Part of me wanted to reach for his, search for some kind of inclination that he was still there. Doing that, though, would cause suspicion. Following Noah's lead, I copied his nonchalant expression, while secretly painting a picture of him in my head. I can write this because I remember him. I want to remember him. I can see him so vividly it hurts; hair so black against skin so white. Izzie, standing off to the side, standing in a light blue skater dress perfectly hugging her figure, strawberry curls flaying in blank eyes I missed.
Lana. Coffee skin and brown hair in two pigtails. Her character Jules was a drama-queen.
We started the scene normally. Katie was walking to school with Will, already in her homecoming dress, and Mac was supposed to run up to us, and ask Katie to the dance.
I said my lines as instructed, wondering if they were going to be programmed directly into my head when I finally went through stage 4.
My wandering thoughts were interrupted when James and Simon, our director let out a collective sigh. "Mr Gallagher!" The writer's expression was stony. He twisted around, glaring at Noah and I, as if we had personally wronged him. "Where the hell is Rory?!"
"Here."
Turning my head in my castmate's direction, I failed to notice two things. Maybe it was because Noah, for the first time, had followed my gaze, instead of looking into oblivion.
The first thing I noticed was like a punch to the gut.
Rory's accent was back. It was broken, splintered in his tone like it didn't belong, but it was back.
The second thing I noticed was that once again, he was twitching, this time his whole face spasming, while his shuddering hand grazed his left eye.
My castmate was stumbling, staggering, but himself. I could tell from the look in his eyes. Terror. That's all I was seeing. Pure, unadulterated terror.
"What the fuck." Rory spat out. His fingers formed pincers, and he stabbed at his swollen looking eye, whimpering. "What the fuck did you do to me?!"
The crew went silent, and James, for the first time in weeks, looked speechless.
"You." Managing to find his feet, Rory marched over to the writer, until they were face to face. "You're a sick bastard, you know that, right?"
James blinked slowly. "Mr...Mr Gallagher," He spoke calmly. "You appear to be off your medication."
Rory looked taken aback. "You think I'm sick?!" He hissed. "You're the sick one for shoving a razor blade in my fucking eye! What the hell is your problem?" Twisting around, Rory seemed to notice the rest of us, and he went pale, the fight going from his face.
His fingers went back to his right eye. "You... you did something to us," he moaned softly, picking at his eyeball. "What did you... what did you do to us?"
"Delusions." James spoke up with a sad shake of his head. "It appears Rory is very sick. He must not have been taking his medication. Oh, son. We shouldn't have brought you to set. You should have said something."
Rory stared, blinking rapidly. "No." He said sharply, his head turning, gaze snapping to each crew member. "No, we're not...we're not sick..." he backed away, before grabbing Noah and shaking the boy, but Noah was like a doll, limp and expressionless.
"Noah?" Getting increasingly frustrated, Rory slapped the boy across the face, and I felt the sting. But Noah didn't even blink. "Hey." My castmate's voice grew hysterical, "Don't just stand there! Hey! Hey, you're with me, man. Right? Noah. Fucking hell, Noah!"
Noah didn't move, and the pain on Rory's face was enough to kick my brain into gear.
"What did you do to them?" Rory demanded. "Fuck, there's something...there's something in my eye!"
"Rory, please calm down," James spoke calmly. "Can someone please get a hold of him so he does not hurt himself. Thank you."
"No!" My cast mate grabbed me, his fingernails stabbing into the bare flesh of my arms. I had to fight back a cry. "Robin." He spoke softly. "Robs, you're... you're in there, right?"
I didn't speak. Couldn't speak. I could only watch as Rory was grabbed by a guard. He struggled violently, until a needle was thrust into his neck, and he went limp.
"My goodness." James shook his head when the guard scooped up the boy bridal style. "Connor, take Mr Gallagher home please. I think it's time for the next phase of his treatment."
No. My stomach slithered into my toes.
"All of them, in fact," James continued. "Keaton, Bright and Faraday too. Harley isn't quite ready."
I could only watch as the others were herded away, and a familiar hand grasped onto my arm. I turned to see the same guard who called me "Little Bird". He was grinning from ear to ear. His grip tightened. "Let's get you home, Little Robin," he hummed.
The ride back to the hotel was blurry. I think I was crying, uncaring about keeping character and staying hidden behind foggy eyes. When we arrived back to the hotel, my mind started whirring. The car ride had been half an hour, including a gas station stop, where the guard had grabbed a coffee for himself, and filled the car's tank. My legs were shaking when we entered the hotel lobby, but the guard didn't start heading upstairs.
"Come along, Little Bird." He hummed, gesturing for me to follow. He made a face, tapping his pockets. "Huh. I've lost my key-card again."
I followed him down to the cellar, keeping distance. I had to get away. I had to find the others, and get them the hell out of this place.
"Stay." the guard grunted, before slipping inside 305, where the key-cards were kept. His expression confused me, the waggling of eyebrows and quirking of lips.
Thankful for the distraction, I forced my legs down the same clinical white hallway. 309 was lit up this time, not illuminated in TV static, actual bright yellow light. From my angle, I saw nobody in the room. My whole body was rattling, and I couldn't breathe, but I forced myself to slip through the door. I was right. The room was empty. At least of James and his minions. This...this is where I'm going to struggle with writing. I'll try my best to tell you, but this is my third time writing this part.
Every time I try, I can't.
Because even if I block out the worst, I still see it.
Inside 309 were my castmates. The four of them were in the same state as the videos on Derek's laptop. Plastic masks covered their mouth and nose, but this time their eyes were wide open and unseeing. A monitor told me their vitals, and after struggling to free Noah's wrists from the armrest, I found myself at a futuristic looking control panel.
That's what the room was, I thought, my fingers grazing each button.
James and Derek’s secret project.
The big, red lever was hard to not notice. It was staring at me, and my hand was twitching. Seeing my friends like this, vulnerable, strapped down and controlled. It willed me to wrap my fingers around cool metal, and wrench the lever downwards.
When the sirens started, I knew what I'd done was wrong.
My castmate's vitals were screeching, and all four of them had gone into shock, gasping for breath, eyelids flickering, bodies convulsing.
I didn't know what to do. I didn't fucking know what to do, so I went to work undoing their restraints. But they weren't looking at me. Their eyes were skyward, and I tried not to notice a cerulean glitter around each iris.
A parasite, I thought, my hands going still.
When the blood started to run, crimson against pristine white, the alarms stopped.
James ran in, out of breath. But I didn't stop wrenching at Noah's restraints until I was grabbed and dragged back. "Robin?!" the writer let out a hissed breath. "I should have known!" Around him, men and women in white were dashing around, attempting to stabilize the others. "I should have known!" He cackled again “You are a brilliant actress, after all."
His teeth clamped down on my ear, and I let myself cry out. At the corner of my eye, there was so much blood. It ran in tiny rivers, startling claret painting them.
James turned my head forcefully. He was out of breath, and I realise the writer was as scared as me. "You better hope and pray you haven't just killed my best stars," he spat, before thundering orders at the crowd of white. "Get them cleaned up and initiate a second procedure."
"But sir," A young male doctor twisted around, and his expression was panicked. "They have just haemorrhaged. If we try again, we could-"
"I don't CARE!" The writer yelled. "Do it! You saw them, right? They were on 50% when that little brat shut it down. I'm confident it was just a flux due to the abrupt stop."
"Marley." The Doctor cleared his throat. "I wouldn't recommend-"
The Doctor didn't finish his sentence. All around me, vitals were crying out again, and all I was seeing was vacant eyes and blood.
Blood.
So much blood.
Oh God, I killed them.
Before I could understand the alarms and panicked yelling, James took me upstairs and shoved me in my room.
His last words were for me to pray.
But that was days ago. All of those blank days that I can't fully remember. All I do remember is James bringing in sheets covered in blood. Part of me recognised them from the ones the others had been laying on in 309.
I screamed. I screamed until he slapped me and told me to get a hold of myself.
"A reminder." James had said, throwing the sheets onto Rory's bed. I asked if the others were okay, and he gave me a long, hard look.
He brought me food, and I ate it.
And I stopped thinking.
But maybe that was a good thing.
I shoved the sheets in the wardrobe. I couldn't look at them.
My days became one big confusing blur.
At one point, my phone disappeared. I found it though.
It's been charged.
Funny. I don't remember charging it.
I've spent most of my day screaming, banging on the door. It feels good to scream again. But nobody is listening to me. Nobody will tell me if my castmates are okay.
Earlier, something was shoved through my door. A clear plastic baggie with an epi-pen and a yellow sticky note.
Robin.
I can get you out of here.
Take this early tomorrow morning, and I will do the rest. I know trust is not on the cards right now, but I'm your best bet.
- A friend, if you'd like.
This brings me to the end of my post. I need your help. Why would someone give me insulin? Why the specific time? Should I take it, or is this another trick?
I'm not thinking straight right now, but do you think I really killed them? Am I the only one left?
If so, why is James still keeping me here? Am I going to die?
If this is my last post, and I'm taken and turned into Katie, or killed, I want you to know who I really am.
My name is [REDACTED]
The show is [REDACTED]
My castmates are: [REDACTED], [REDACTED], [REDACTED] and [REDACTED]
Finally, the bastard who did this to us is: [REDACTED]
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2020.10.20 00:03 RobinAnonymous Mom bang teens pornpics

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 5
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I think I've killed them.
That's all that is running through my head right now. I've killed them.
I've killed them.
I've fucking killed them.
No, I can't think like that. I have to stay positive.
It's so fucking hard to stay positive right now.
As much as I want to tell you what's going on right at this moment, I have to go back days from now, before everything exploded. Before I lost both myself and my friends. I have to write all of this down so I can register it fully, and accept it. I have to accept it. Because right now I can't. I've tried writing this so many times, but my head is so fucking foggy, and my thoughts feel like candy floss. The phone's screen is so bright and it hurts my eyes. I have to concentrate. That's what I keep telling myself. I have to breathe. Just keep breathing. It's not like I'm hiding anything anymore. They know I'm sober. They know I'm awake, and it's only a matter of time before they come for me too; do the same thing to me. Oh god, they're going to kill me. I'm going to die.
Maybe I deserve it, though. After all, I think I've killed their biggest stars.
I'm going to start from when I last updated you. Once again, I have no recollection of how many days I've lost. James took them from me. I want to check it myself, but part of me would rather stay ignorant. All I know is that it is sunny outside. The sky is blue, and the trees are golden brown. Fall. My favourite season. It feels weird to remember that. That I have a favourite season. Katie's favourite is Summer. She likes to go to the lake with her friends, and swim in the river. I know more about my character than I know myself, and every second that goes by I feel like I've been tipped upside down and emptied of everything I am. So, I'm going to remind myself before it's too late.
My name is Robin Harley.
At least, that's how you know me. I wrote my real name before this one, because it feels like it is fading, along with everything I am. But I know who I am. My favourite book is Kafka On the Shore. My favourite food is chicken alfredo. I have a dog called Julia, and I'm terrified of the dark. Such small things, like a kid making a list. This is easier for me, though. I must remember who I am, before it's taken away. For James I must be Katie, and for you, I'm Robin. I miss being called by my real name. My mother named me after her favourite flower. I grew up thinking it was a stupid name. I wanted to be called a pretty name like Holly or Charlotte. My friends often asked me why my name was spelled the way it was, and how to pronounce it. As a kid, I had been mortified. But as I grew up, I began to love my name, treasure what it meant to my mom to call me it.
I didn't think something as simple as a name, an identity, could be snatched so cruelly. But it has. I almost feel like I'm writing a story. Like we're just characters in someone's coerced reality. That's ironic, considering the plan our network has for us. I'm nothing but a puppet in James's sick game. I'm a shell for Katie Parker, and everything that is me, that is [REDACTED] he plans to eradicate, like it's that easy. Like taking away who I am, my consciousness is like child's play.
It's the blood stains that I can't stop thinking about. So much blood, so much life draining away like it was nothing. LIKE THEY WERE NOTHING. LIKE THEY WERE NOTHING.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I'm not making sense. I can't make sense right now, even as I read while I type, I might as well be reading hieroglyphics. The floor underneath my feet feels like liquid when I stand on it. There is blood on Rory's bed. It's only a little bit, a smear of crimson staining light pink pillow cases. But it's twisting my stomach. My chest is aching. Every time I look at his bed, I want to scream. I want to scream until my throat is fucking raw, until my lungs have collapsed. It's Noah all over again, but at that point, Noah survived. I didn't think he would, after seeing his body convulsing in front of me, flickering eyes still glued to Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck bleeding through ancient static. I'll never forget the way his head had dropped limply, bouncing on his chest like a puppet severed from their strings. His fingers, which had been frantically tapping out Morse code had gone still. Everything that was him, that was Noah, had gone still, and for one heart-stopping moment I thought I'd lost him.
I didn't lose him. You already know that.
Thanks to Derek Marley's confession, I know now that they weren't trying to kill Noah. Instead, they were using his body like a host, as if his character was a parasite. I've gone through the stages in my head so many times I know them off by heart. James's voice still crackling through static on each video clip still haunts my thoughts, as if the man himself was burrowing his way into my mind, forcing himself inside every piece of me.
Stage 1: Empty out.
Stage 2: Programming.
Stage 3: Insertion.
Stage 4:
Stage four...
Stage Four...
Stage Four...
I thought I could still save Noah. I could save Rory, and Izzie and Lana.
I thought I could save them.
I thought I could save them.
The blood on Rory's sheets makes me sick, and I can't stop thinking about them.
I can't stop THINKING ABOUT THEM.
I'll get to that. Because I'm here to tell our story, in what I hope is some kind of cohesive, even if it's a seemingly never-ending stream of consciousness which does not make sense. I'm sorry about that. I don't cut out what I write. I leave everything in, because I want to look back at this at some point, if I get out of this hell-hole. I want to re-read everything that took place. Every thought I had, even if it makes the least lick of sense. Every emotion I've felt, I want to feel it again. I want to torture myself again, but I know I'll never feel the way I'm feeling right now. Numb. Nothing. I feel nothing. Maybe I am Katie. Maybe James forced her into me during my daze where the days bled together, the pitch dark and sunlight colliding, but my thoughts weren't mine. And when they were, when clarity took over, I struggled to understand why I was so fucking numb. Why I couldn't cry. Why I'd stripped Rory's bed of his covers, and thrown them in the wardrobe. Why I sat against it for what felt like oblivion, with my back against cool, hard wood, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't open it again.
I couldn't look inside.
Because I would break apart all over again.
Now my head is clear, I know why. The sun is less of a confusing haze, and I can think a little clearer . So, I'm going to do what I always do; since I found you. Now that my mind is clear, I'm going to stop thinking about the wardrobe, and instead lose myself in you.
Inside this stupid phone which isn't even mine. It hasn't got my pastel blue phone case, and the lock-screen of me and my mother standing under a maple tree in Japan. It has none of that. Not my Apple playlist or my Instagram page. My endless collection of notes which is just shopping lists, or casting calls, or snippets of poems that come to me, and mom just a text or phone call away. My phone is gone. Except this phone feels like mine, even if there's none of my personality, a total blank. I've kept it hidden for so long, a secret under my mattress. The one thing stopping me from losing my mind.
I'm going to write to you, and leave nothing out. I'm going to tell you everything in as much detail as possible, despite my shaking hands and concaving stomach.
Writing to you is my outlet. I know not many are reading, and that most of you are sceptical, but I'm truly grateful for each and every comment you leave. Thank you for translating Noah's message. Thank you for telling me what was in the shot in Derek's office. Without you, I would have crumbled my now. So if you're reading, I beg of you, please keep going. If you have to, tear apart everything I say. Take notice of hints that I leave, like places that I have to blank out. Because you're my only hope right now. You're my only connection to the real world, to a reality I've been taken away from.
So please don't give up on me. Tell me you understand. Tell me you want some kind of update. Because you are all I have.
I say this, because once again, I need your help. Hopefully for the last time.
The last time I updated you, I'd made what I thought was the biggest mistake of my life. slamming Rory over the head with a table lamp. He had gone limp, falling back, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. I took your advice and did not use the shot. I didn't know what it would do to him, especially if he had some kind of brain or head injury. Instead of doing what my heart was screaming at me to do, I slammed the door shut and removed the book. Guards, I thought hysterically. There were too many guards, and I would never leave the others. I felt selfish. Wrong. Like my heart had ben ripped out of my chest. But I held myself, and I stayed with Rory all night, waiting for him to wake up.
Except he didn't, and the more time progressed, the glaring red letters on my bedside clock flickering later and later, the sick feeling in my gut worsened.
"Rory." I felt like I was on fire, climbing onto his bed and lifting his head onto my lap. I felt for bumps and bruises, but mostly blood. I checked the pillow and sheets, but they were clean. He was breathing. I kept telling myself that, pressing my hand against his chest. He didn't move. His body stayed flaccid, draped against me. He was freezing cold, so I bundled him under the blankets. Laying next to him, my mind screamed at me to do something. Tell James. I was at war with myself. If Rory really was hurt and needed medical attention, I was killing him to save myself. So I didn't get caught.
Did I care more about my castmate, or being caught sober? Especially if Rory was just knocked out. That thought haunted me well into the midnight hours. I fell in and out of sleep, but I didn't dream. I was too panicked to relax and allow my mind some kind of peace. I couldn't. I was drifting off to sleep for what felt like the tenth time, when something...snapped. At least, that's what it sounded like. I shot up, disoriented, and quickly realised that the same buzzing, the same noise of a swarm of bees, was slicing into the silence I'd found myself wrapped in. My attention went straight to Rory, and sure enough, it was coming from him. But something was... different. The first time I'd heard it, the sound was like prickling electricity or the erratic wings of an insect.
But this time it sounded like popping. Like something was snapping, crackling inside my friend's head. Slowly, I slipped off of Rory's bed and checked him once more. Still no movement. His eyes were still shut. His breathing was still normal.
Knowing what was inside Rory, I knew the sound must have been the chip, what James had inserted into his eye. It was his character, the parasitic Mac Price. Briefly, I thought about attempting to get it out with the scalpel I'd hidden under my bed. But I could blind him. With one wrong move, I could blind him. So, I crawled back into my own bed and buried my head in pillows that smelled of lavender. It reminded me of home.
I don't know how long I slept for. All I remember is being woken by a flock of birds screeching outside. As soon as I brushed off slumber, reality hit me hard.
Rory.
The room was quiet, and my heart sank into my gut. I twisted around in bed, expecting to see my castmate still draped over sickly yellow covers, eyes shut.
The first thing I noticed was Rory's bed was empty. The covers and pillows were on the ground, and when I frantically searched for him, I found him.
Rory was standing in the same stance, straight shoulders, arms by his side. He was staring forward, that familiar vacant look splayed across his expression. He was already dressed in Mac attire; a short sleeved shirt and jeans. The early morning sun was streaming through the blinds, setting strands of his brown hair alight. His eyes were wide, earthy brown, a wrinkle between his brows. At that moment, I took a snapshot in my mind. If James was going to turn me into Katie, then I was going to remember him.
I was going to remember myself. When I happened to look into the reflection of James's glasses when he was leaning close, I glimpsed a girl who was far too thin, malnutrition transforming once healthy cheeks to ashen white. I saw tired eyes staring back, vacant and foggy with the phantom drug I was swallowing every day. I saw mousy blonde hair which used to be plastered across magazine stands, beauty magazines and teen Vogue. It seemed crazy that that girl was me. The girl who played Katie Parker. Because underneath the preppy blonde ponytail and face of makeup, there was me. It made me wonder. Did people see it? Did the public know, or did they look past all of that, to see their favourite character? Is that all I was to them?
Katie.
Fucking Katie Parker.
I didn't know what to think, whether to be relieved that I hadn't seriously hurt Rory, or frustrated that he was still under James's control. I was speechless, my mouth opening and closing, words choking my throat. I wanted to say so much, but all I really wanted to do was bury my head in his shoulders and sob until my chest was aching. Before I could open my mouth, or move, there was the sound of familiar footsteps approaching our room, and I dived up, practically throwing myself beside Rory, slipping back into my façade. Standing shoulder to shoulder as usual, we waited for James. But when the door opened, and the writer walked in with his usual wide smile and twinkling eyes, I could have sworn Rory had flinched ever so slightly. It wasn't noticeable, at least not to James.
But to me, I felt it. I felt the tremor that ran through him, his shoulder bouncing against mine. Something inside me ignited, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I had hope; hope that braining Rory with the lamp had knocked out the chip connected to his iris. Except at that moment I refused to get properly hopeful. No way. I had to keep my façade. Even if all I wanted to do was turn to Rory, and demand if he was himself. If he was like me, awake and aware, struggling to hide behind a character.
Instead, I played along as usual. We were given the pill, which I had mastered the art of hiding behind my bottom teeth. I swallowed with emphasis and opened my mouth so James could lean in. He did, the glint in his eyes sending ice sliding down my spine.
"Kids." He addressed us, spreading his arms in a greeting. "How did you like last night? Did you enjoy your late night entertainment?"
Something struck me, like a knife stabbing into my back. The TV, I thought, struggling to stay completely immobile. But at the corner of my eye, it was back to where James had originally placed it, the ancient screen facing forwards, instead of towards the wall where I had shoved it. James seemed none the wiser, and I allowed myself to let out a breath. As usual, Rory and I didn't reply. James carried the usual, a brown paper bag full of breakfast sandwiches and two plastic white cups of water.
"Robin." James nodded at me. "You look like you're making progress!" He winked. "Perhaps I should take you for a consultation after today's shoot. How does that sound, hmm?"
I didn't move, keeping my gaze glued to him, waiting for him to look away, mentally begging the bastard to get distracted. Derek's confession was still on my mind, and what the network and James had collectively done to my castmates. And that I was next.
TBD. To be determined. I had to fight back a shiver.
Struck with the sudden overwhelming urge to scratch at my right eye, beads of sweat slipped down the back of my neck. James cocked his head and chuckled when I only stared back, just like he wanted. He was used to this, used to my body working the way he wanted, twisting and turning the way he wanted, my submissive eyes drinking him in, and nothing coming out of my mouth. I could practically see the glee lighting up his eyes every time I was forced to stand like a soldier, awaiting orders from his smug mouth.
"Huh." The writer hummed, pinching my chin. "I'll take that as a yes, sweetheart."
Staying still, I forced myself not to breathe. James moved onto Rory, and handed the pill to my castmate. "Mr Gallagher!" He beamed. "I'm pleased to tell you that you will be entering stage four today. Along with Mr Keaton, as well as Miss Faraday and Bright."
Bile slithered up my throat, but I still didn't move, my gaze falling to the carpet, burning into each fibre. I wanted to scream, but the words wouldn't come out. James's words felt like lightning bolts. They were going ahead with stage four with Rory, Noah, Lana and Izzie, and I couldn't stop it. The Writer's words had not left my head, still alive in my skull, prodding and poking until I couldn't bear it. The complete removal of consciousness, James had said. Which was them. Whatever was left of my friends, what hadn't already been purged from them, tearing them from themselves, those last flickers of what I loved. He was going to take it away. James was going to take it away forever.
And what would be left: nothing. Just a shell, a pretty face for their character.
I'd heard James loud and clear. "Give him a few weeks to settle in, and then we can move onto the final stage. Complete removal of lingering consciousness. Of course, we can replicate the young man's personality easily for press days and of course the fans. That will be easy. There will be no need for the boy. He will be disposed of, do you understand me?"
Disposed of. My ears were roaring. How was James planning on disposing on them? What did that even mean? His words were cutting deep. I felt sick. No, I was going to be sick. My cheeks felt like they were on fire, and my legs were ready to give-way.
"Why?"
Mac's all-too-familiar American twang sliced cleanly through my thoughts.
My head snapped up. For a disorienting moment I forgot I was supposed to be keeping behind a façade, and a hysterical bubble of laughter climbed its way up my throat. I hadn't laughed in so long, and it almost felt alien to me, but I managed to swallow it down. Rory's expression was still blank, still vacant, but the crease between his brows had grown. His lip was slightly curled into what might have been a frown.
He looked... confused. Which at that point, it was better than nothing.
James's expression had twisted in a flash, his eyes slitting, lips twisting into a scowl. He was still holding the pill out to the boy, who wasn't taking it, his arms staying by his sides. The writer cleared his throat, composing himself despite being rattled.
"I'm sorry, what was that, Mr Gallagher?"
I risked keeping my gaze on Rory, and everything inside me was begging, screaming at him to lash out, teeth gritted, eyes blazing. Rory didn't do that, however. He seemed to flinch again, but this time it was noticeable. His whole body shuddered, his eyes flickering, before his right arm jolted, and he reached out and took the pill.
Maybe I was imagining it, but it was like Rory was glitching.
"Mr Gallagher?" Stepping forward, James watched Rory pop the pill into his mouth. My castmate's expression had gone blank once more, but his arm was still trembling, pressed against mine. Rory swallowed the pill and opened his mouth on order, before the writer pulled out a small hand-held torch. He clicked it on, motioning Rory towards him.
Rory complied, and let James shine the light in his eyes. He didn't even wince. James checked both eyes, leaning in close. "Huh." James clucked his tongue. "Perhaps you had some kind of momentary malfunction," He grabbed my castmate's bare arms and squeezed them, beaming. "Don't you worry, young man. Once the final stage is complete, there will be nothing to interfere with the programming. The original consciousness will be completely removed, which will of course be a relief for the two of us."
James's words didn't sink in. I didn't let them. If I did, I'd shatter there and then, and James would catch me out. So I didn't move. I didn't breathe, and blinked back the sting in my eyes.
"Understand?" James motioned for Rory to nod, and my castmate did, his arms falling limply back to his sides.
"Wonderful!" The writer started to go through the same old routine, briefing us on our schedules, as well as lecturing us on being on our best behaviour, despite knowing the two of us were under the influence of a mind altering pill, as well as a microchip forcing our characters inside our heads. I mostly tuned out, trying to think of a way to save the others from what I was sure was a fate worse than death. Derek Marley had said that participating in the project would haunt him forever. His last message to Noah was sincere, but he was right. Noah would never forgive him. None of us would.
I had to get them out.
James's voice faded into white noise, until he reached the door, and turned to the two of us. "Eat and get ready for the day, please. I want things to go smoothly, so make sure to be good kids." He chuckled and then winked. "Mr Gallagher, I'll see you after the shoot."
The writer gave me a dismissive wave. "Miss Harley, a guard will pick you up as usual and take you home, since I will be quite busy."
Nodding, as if he was reassuring himself everything was going to be just fine, James hurried out, whistling some old Disney song that I vaguely recognised.
When the door slammed shut, I let my breath go, dropping to my knees. Spitting the pill out, I swallowed hot bile in my throat, willing myself not to hurl. Hot tears were spilling down my cheeks and I couldn't stop them, no matter what I did. The severity of the situation came over me like waves of ice cold water, and I wanted to curl into a ball and disappear into the floor. I wanted to be anywhere else than that room with my brainwashed castmate. Who I knew I was about to lose in favour for a fictional character.
Bunching my fists into my eyes, I struggled to my feet and forced myself to the wardrobe we share, where my Katie attire was packed inside. I felt disgusting, still wearing the sweats I'd slept in. When I twisted to Rory, I was meant to ask him if his head was hurting, or he felt sick. Despite knowing my castmate was a submissive doll, I still wanted to know. But when I turned to my castmate, Rory was still standing in the same spot. He was staring at something, and when I edged closer, holding my breath, I realised the pill was pinched between his thumb and index finger. The colour was darker, dyed to an almost purple shade with his saliva. Looking closer, his expression was no longer blank. Instead, there was the slightest glimmer of awareness in his eyes.
I held onto that with everything I had.
"Rory?" I choked on his name, and he flinched again, turning to face me. I knew then, when my castmate's gaze landed on me, that something was wrong.
His eyes were twitching, which seemed to affect his whole face, his cheeks wet with tears. A million emotions flashed across his expression, and he pressed two fingers to his right eye. When I said his name again with the gutter of my throat, his gaze found mine again, but Rory didn't look at me, not really. His lip curled and his eyes slitted with pain and frustration, but there was no glint of recognition igniting in warm browns. At least, it wasn't the teasing smirk and warm glint which was Rory. Instead, it was all Mac. Still twitching, as if he was fighting his character for his own mind, Rory dropped the pill onto the carpet, and crushed it with his foot, before turning to me.
And then something stabilised. My castmate, or whatever was left of him, the parts of him still fighting back, trashing the pill, was shoved deep into the crevices of his own mind, and his character was bleeding through. Exactly who James wanted him to be. There was the recognition coming to life in another's boy's eyes. Sixteen-year-old Mac who had been crushing on Katie Parker since middle school. Not twenty-year-old Rory, who swung the other way and would in fact rather eat his own tongue than look at me like that.
"Hey, what are you waiting for?" Rory cocked his head. I could see so much put-on emotions in that one stare. Longing for the girl he crushed on, as well as the pain of looking at her, knowing she was with another guy. I saw his obsession to keep his youth alive, and live every day as his last. It was Mac's character. As well as being a lovable idiot, he was determined to make every day count. I half wondered if all of that had been programmed into the chip, which was currently forcing my friend's brain into compliance.
"Get dressed, we have school."
Staring back at him, I had the sudden urge to punch him square in the face. Maybe that might bring Rory back.
But it was too risky. Instead of replying to him, I showered and dressed as normal. That morning, the breakfast was different. Instead of the usual breakfast sandwich, there was a chocolate croissant each, individually wrapped in expensive looking paper, and what looked like two Starbucks coffee's to go. My mouth watered. I hadn't had anything sweet in what felt like weeks, unless that meant mindlessly chewing on a cupcake during my mediocre break on set.
I ate the croissant so fast I barely tasted the explosion of chocolate in my mouth. Combined with the coffee, it was like heaven. When Rory grabbed his and ate it in two bites before gulping down the coffee, the taste went sour in my mouth, and I had to swallow several times to avoid the croissant shooting back up my throat.
The unexpected sugary treat for breakfast wasn't an accident. Each breakfast item had been perfectly wrapped, like a gift. It was like a last supper, at least for Rory.
The sickly feeling followed me to set. It was the same routine. We drove to set, and I sat with my side pressed to Noah, as if being in close proximity to him would somehow change his fate. I was rushed to hair and make up, and two girls who gossiped about a new Netflix show they had been watching, buzzed around me, transforming me into Katie.
My hair was curled into effortless blonde rings, since we were in the midst of a homecoming dance episode, and glitter speckled my cheeks. All the glitter in the world could not hide the dark shadows under my eyes, so they gave up and remodelled my face so I barely recognised myself. We were filming outside that day, and the fall breeze was warm, tickling my bare shoulders. I wore a dress most of the morning, and stuck mostly with Noah. I spoke Katie's lines, acting as best as I could, even when I felt like I was shattering apart inside. We had a five minute break, and I stumbled around the set, trying to find everyone, keeping them in my line of sight, my heart speeding up when James appeared with a crumpled script and his phone. "Robin, Noah and Rory." He spoke up, his voice like a beacon to my castmates. Their heads snapped up from where they had been awkwardly circling craft services, grabbing finger foods and vanilla puddings stacked on plates.
Noah joined me quickly, sliding to my side. I tried not to think about the times I'd been freaking out about shooting, and him grabbing and squeezing my hand. Part of me wanted to reach for his, search for some kind of inclination that he was still there. Doing that, though, would cause suspicion. Following Noah's lead, I copied his nonchalant expression, while secretly painting a picture of him in my head. I can write this because I remember him. I want to remember him. I can see him so vividly it hurts; hair so black against skin so white. Izzie, standing off to the side, standing in a light blue skater dress perfectly hugging her figure, strawberry curls flaying in blank eyes I missed.
Lana. Coffee skin and brown hair in two pigtails. Her character Jules was a drama-queen.
We started the scene normally. Katie was walking to school with Will, already in her homecoming dress, and Mac was supposed to run up to us, and ask Katie to the dance.
I said my lines as instructed, wondering if they were going to be programmed directly into my head when I finally went through stage 4.
My wandering thoughts were interrupted when James and Simon, our director let out a collective sigh. "Mr Gallagher!" The writer's expression was stony. He twisted around, glaring at Noah and I, as if we had personally wronged him. "Where the hell is Rory?!"
"Here."
Turning my head in my castmate's direction, I failed to notice two things. Maybe it was because Noah, for the first time, had followed my gaze, instead of looking into oblivion.
The first thing I noticed was like a punch to the gut.
Rory's accent was back. It was broken, splintered in his tone like it didn't belong, but it was back.
The second thing I noticed was that once again, he was twitching, this time his whole face spasming, while his shuddering hand grazed his left eye.
My castmate was stumbling, staggering, but himself. I could tell from the look in his eyes. Terror. That's all I was seeing. Pure, unadulterated terror.
"What the fuck." Rory spat out. His fingers formed pincers, and he stabbed at his swollen looking eye, whimpering. "What the fuck did you do to me?!"
The crew went silent, and James, for the first time in weeks, looked speechless.
"You." Managing to find his feet, Rory marched over to the writer, until they were face to face. "You're a sick bastard, you know that, right?"
James blinked slowly. "Mr...Mr Gallagher," He spoke calmly. "You appear to be off your medication."
Rory looked taken aback. "You think I'm sick?!" He hissed. "You're the sick one for shoving a razor blade in my fucking eye! What the hell is your problem?" Twisting around, Rory seemed to notice the rest of us, and he went pale, the fight going from his face.
His fingers went back to his right eye. "You... you did something to us," he moaned softly, picking at his eyeball. "What did you... what did you do to us?"
"Delusions." James spoke up with a sad shake of his head. "It appears Rory is very sick. He must not have been taking his medication. Oh, son. We shouldn't have brought you to set. You should have said something."
Rory stared, blinking rapidly. "No." He said sharply, his head turning, gaze snapping to each crew member. "No, we're not...we're not sick..." he backed away, before grabbing Noah and shaking the boy, but Noah was like a doll, limp and expressionless.
"Noah?" Getting increasingly frustrated, Rory slapped the boy across the face, and I felt the sting. But Noah didn't even blink. "Hey." My castmate's voice grew hysterical, "Don't just stand there! Hey! Hey, you're with me, man. Right? Noah. Fucking hell, Noah!"
Noah didn't move, and the pain on Rory's face was enough to kick my brain into gear.
"What did you do to them?" Rory demanded. "Fuck, there's something...there's something in my eye!"
"Rory, please calm down," James spoke calmly. "Can someone please get a hold of him so he does not hurt himself. Thank you."
"No!" My cast mate grabbed me, his fingernails stabbing into the bare flesh of my arms. I had to fight back a cry. "Robin." He spoke softly. "Robs, you're... you're in there, right?"
I didn't speak. Couldn't speak. I could only watch as Rory was grabbed by a guard. He struggled violently, until a needle was thrust into his neck, and he went limp.
"My goodness." James shook his head when the guard scooped up the boy bridal style. "Connor, take Mr Gallagher home please. I think it's time for the next phase of his treatment."
No. My stomach slithered into my toes.
"All of them, in fact," James continued. "Keaton, Bright and Faraday too. Harley isn't quite ready."
I could only watch as the others were herded away, and a familiar hand grasped onto my arm. I turned to see the same guard who called me "Little Bird". He was grinning from ear to ear. His grip tightened. "Let's get you home, Little Robin," he hummed.
The ride back to the hotel was blurry. I think I was crying, uncaring about keeping character and staying hidden behind foggy eyes. When we arrived back to the hotel, my mind started whirring. The car ride had been half an hour, including a gas station stop, where the guard had grabbed a coffee for himself, and filled the car's tank. My legs were shaking when we entered the hotel lobby, but the guard didn't start heading upstairs.
"Come along, Little Bird." He hummed, gesturing for me to follow. He made a face, tapping his pockets. "Huh. I've lost my key-card again."
I followed him down to the cellar, keeping distance. I had to get away. I had to find the others, and get them the hell out of this place.
"Stay." the guard grunted, before slipping inside 305, where the key-cards were kept. His expression confused me, the waggling of eyebrows and quirking of lips.
Thankful for the distraction, I forced my legs down the same clinical white hallway. 309 was lit up this time, not illuminated in TV static, actual bright yellow light. From my angle, I saw nobody in the room. My whole body was rattling, and I couldn't breathe, but I forced myself to slip through the door. I was right. The room was empty. At least of James and his minions. This...this is where I'm going to struggle with writing. I'll try my best to tell you, but this is my third time writing this part.
Every time I try, I can't.
Because even if I block out the worst, I still see it.
Inside 309 were my castmates. The four of them were in the same state as the videos on Derek's laptop. Plastic masks covered their mouth and nose, but this time their eyes were wide open and unseeing. A monitor told me their vitals, and after struggling to free Noah's wrists from the armrest, I found myself at a futuristic looking control panel.
That's what the room was, I thought, my fingers grazing each button.
James and Derek’s secret project.
The big, red lever was hard to not notice. It was staring at me, and my hand was twitching. Seeing my friends like this, vulnerable, strapped down and controlled. It willed me to wrap my fingers around cool metal, and wrench the lever downwards.
When the sirens started, I knew what I'd done was wrong.
My castmate's vitals were screeching, and all four of them had gone into shock, gasping for breath, eyelids flickering, bodies convulsing.
I didn't know what to do. I didn't fucking know what to do, so I went to work undoing their restraints. But they weren't looking at me. Their eyes were skyward, and I tried not to notice a cerulean glitter around each iris.
A parasite, I thought, my hands going still.
When the blood started to run, crimson against pristine white, the alarms stopped.
James ran in, out of breath. But I didn't stop wrenching at Noah's restraints until I was grabbed and dragged back. "Robin?!" the writer let out a hissed breath. "I should have known!" Around him, men and women in white were dashing around, attempting to stabilize the others. "I should have known!" He cackled again “You are a brilliant actress, after all."
His teeth clamped down on my ear, and I let myself cry out. At the corner of my eye, there was so much blood. It ran in tiny rivers, startling claret painting them.
James turned my head forcefully. He was out of breath, and I realise the writer was as scared as me. "You better hope and pray you haven't just killed my best stars," he spat, before thundering orders at the crowd of white. "Get them cleaned up and initiate a second procedure."
"But sir," A young male doctor twisted around, and his expression was panicked. "They have just haemorrhaged. If we try again, we could-"
"I don't CARE!" The writer yelled. "Do it! You saw them, right? They were on 50% when that little brat shut it down. I'm confident it was just a flux due to the abrupt stop."
"Marley." The Doctor cleared his throat. "I wouldn't recommend-"
The Doctor didn't finish his sentence. All around me, vitals were crying out again, and all I was seeing was vacant eyes and blood.
Blood.
So much blood.
Oh God, I killed them.
Before I could understand the alarms and panicked yelling, James took me upstairs and shoved me in my room.
His last words were for me to pray.
But that was days ago. All of those blank days that I can't fully remember. All I do remember is James bringing in sheets covered in blood. Part of me recognised them from the ones the others had been laying on in 309.
I screamed. I screamed until he slapped me and told me to get a hold of myself.
"A reminder." James had said, throwing the sheets onto Rory's bed. I asked if the others were okay, and he gave me a long, hard look.
He brought me food, and I ate it.
And I stopped thinking.
But maybe that was a good thing.
I shoved the sheets in the wardrobe. I couldn't look at them.
My days became one big confusing blur.
At one point, my phone disappeared. I found it though.
It's been charged.
Funny. I don't remember charging it.
I've spent most of my day screaming, banging on the door. It feels good to scream again. But nobody is listening to me. Nobody will tell me if my castmates are okay.
Earlier, something was shoved through my door. A clear plastic baggie with an epi-pen and a yellow sticky note.
Robin.
I can get you out of here.
Take this early tomorrow morning, and I will do the rest. I know trust is not on the cards right now, but I'm your best bet.
- A friend, if you'd like.
This brings me to the end of my post. I need your help. Why would someone give me insulin? Why the specific time? Should I take it, or is this another trick?
I'm not thinking straight right now, but do you think I really killed them? Am I the only one left?
If so, why is James still keeping me here? Am I going to die?
If this is my last post, and I'm taken and turned into Katie, or killed, I want you to know who I really am.
My name is [REDACTED]
The show is [REDACTED]
My castmates are: [REDACTED], [REDACTED], [REDACTED] and [REDACTED]
Finally, the bastard who did this to us is: [REDACTED]
submitted by RobinAnonymous to nosleep [link] [comments]


2020.10.15 00:20 vrouxm Mom bang teens pornpics

Follow up to the Kail Conspiracy video...
Ok, so this is sort of a follow up post to the Kail conspiracy post from earlier today . You’ll most likely need to watch at least the last 2-3 minutes or so of the video in the post to understand what I’m referencing.
But anyway, after reading all the different posts and comments about Javi and Kail possibly hooking up around the timeline when Creed was conceived, and then watching the video in the post linked above, I felt like I needed to try my best to figure out when the clip of Kail having the discussion with her producer, Patrick. After OP of the post/video and I were commenting back and forth, they told me they looked online and couldn’t find out when Kail moved into her office (which she mentioned signing the lease in the texts shown in the clip with her producer). As a former hair stylist, I’ve noticed that Kail’s hair color has been changing already throughout the episodes from this season, so I automatically thought that I could maybe figure out some timelines by trying to match her hair on the show with dates of Instagram posts.
Please bear with me, I did my best to try to organize and explain. But here we go.
Based on looking at her Instagram vs watching the clip....
In the clip: Her hair was dark. No blonde in it at all.
On Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/p/B38NsA0gOBG/?igshid=1pbhuyyx72ts3 right here, she just got her hair colored all dark on Oct 22nd and it appears that she’s even wearing the same tie dye shirt as she was in the video clip. Just to add in- her hair was blonde in her post from the day before, where she’s showing a pic of Halloween makeup someone did on her “today”.
Her post on Nov 5th, her hair is lighter again. But even if she’d posted an old pic on Nov 5th, her hair appears to have some amount of blonde in it in all of her posts until it looks all dark again on January 12th. Honestly, looking at the pics again, from a former hairstylist’s opinion, I think Nov 5th was a post of older photos, based on how light her hair was in them (and matches her hair color in earlier October, before she colored it all dark). The color in her post on Nov 14th looks more likely to be a transition from the all over dark hair to having a blonde ombré toward the ends while still having the dark roots.
So I’m definitely thinking the Javi “tried to fuck her at WaWa” texts were from right around the time Creed was conceived, based on these points:

-Yes, her hair was dark again in January, which could also match the dark hair in the Wawa parking lot text discussion scene. Yes, I know people typically wear a shirt more than once after buying it. BUT, that text mentioned signing the lease for her office. It’d be much more likely for someone to sign a lease within the next 2-3 weeks or less, vs waiting until almost 3 months after finding an office space.
-Also, The texts on her phone show “Tuesday 11:00am”. With an iPhone, it’ll only list the day of the week and time if it’s within less than a week from when you received it. If it was a text from today, it’ll read “Today, (insert time)”, and if its from yesterday it’ll read “yesterday, (Insert time). In example: today is Wednesday, Nov 14th. When I scroll back through my text threads with anyone, it’ll state the day of the week and time for texts from This past Monday through last Thursday, the 8th. But once I get to last week Wednesday, it shows “Wed, Oct 7th (insert time)”. So unless the text log was somehow photoshopped, the text exchange happened at least two days before, but less than a week before it was filmed.
So, IMO it’d be more likely to assume that this scene was filmed somewhere between Oct 22-Nov 14th. After looking at a calendar, I realized Oct 22 (the day she got her hair colored) was a Tuesday, so based on how iPhones show the dates in text logs, I’m sort of leaning more toward this scene being filmed between Oct 24th-Nov 14th, 2019.
Does this prove Javi is Creed’s father? No. Does it even prove that Javi was sleeping with Kail? No. But unless Kail and/or MTV (and Javi, for that matter, for not calling Kail out on faking texts and lying about what he said) went to great lengths to troll us, Javi was definitely at least feeling comfortable enough to be sending “questionable” texts to Kail and also told her he wanted to bang her in the WaWa parking lot right around the time frame when Creed was conceived.
Even if Creed isn’t Javi’s, I’m thinking Kail was at least banging Javi and Chris around the same. But that’s just my opinion.
submitted by vrouxm to TeenMomOGandTeenMom2 [link] [comments]


2020.10.13 14:04 vjscorp Mom bang teens pornpics

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THE POSSESSION OF HANNAH GRACE | MA/HD | $8
THE PRODIGY | VUDU HD | $7.50 [NOT MA]
POWER RANGERS DINO CHARGE HERO | VUDU SD | $3
POWER RANGERS SUPER MEGAFORCE: SKY STRIKE | VUDU SD | $3
PRICELESS | ITUNES | $4
THE PURGE COLLECTION | MA/HD | $20
QUEEN & SLIM | MA/HD | $9
A QUIET PLACE | VUDU HD | $4.50
A QUIET PLACE | ITUNES 4K | $6
READY OR NOT | MA/HD | $9.50
REPLICAS | VUDU HD OR ITUNES | $6.50 [NOT MA]
RESIDENT EVIL: DAMNATION | MA/HD | $5.50
RETALIATION | VUDU HD | $8 [NOT MA]
ROBIN HOOD | VUDU HD OR ITUNES 4K | $6.50 [NOT MA]
ROOKIE OF THE YEAR | MA/HD | $6.50
ROUGH NIGHT | MA/HD | $5
SCOOB! | MA/HD | $8
THE SECOND BEST EXOTIC MARIGOLD HOTEL | MA/HD | $6.50
THE SECRET: DARE TO DREAM | VUDU HD OR ITUNES | $8
THE SECRET LIFE OF PETS 2 | MA/HD | $7.50
SELMA | VUDU HD | $4 [NOT MA]
SERENITY [2019] | MA/HD | $6
SGT. STUBBY: AN AMERICAN HERO | VUDU HD | $6 [NOT MA]
SGT. STUBBY: AN AMERICAN HERO | iTunes | $5 [NOT MA]
SHAUN THE SHEEP MOVIE | VUDU SD | $3 [NOT MA]
SHAFT | MA/HD | $9.50
THE SILENCING | VUDU HD OR ITUNES | $8
SHIVERS | VUDU HD | $7 [NOT MA]
SNATCHED | ITUNES 4K ⇒ MA | $5.50
SOME KIND OF BEAUTIFUL | VUDU SD | $3.50
SONIC THE HEDGEHOG | VUDU HD OR ITUNES 4K | $6.50 [NOT MA]
SPIDERMAN: HOMECOMING | MA/HD | $5
SPIDER-MAN: INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE | MA/HD | $6
SPIDER-MAN: INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE | MA/SD | $4
STAR TREK COLLECTION | ITUNES 4K | $15 [NOT MA]
STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE: BERRY BAKE SHOP | MA/HD | $4
STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE: BERRY TALES | MA/HD | $4
STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE: CAMPBERRY STORIES | MA/HD | $4
SULLY | MA/HD | $5
SUPER TROOPERS 2 | MA/HD | $5.50
SURVIVE THE NIGHT | VUDU HD OR ITUNES 4K | $7.50 [NOT MA]
THE SWING OF THINGS | VUDU HD OR ITUNES | $7.50 [NOT MA]
TEEN TITANS GO! TO THE MOVIES | MA/HD | $6.50
TERMINATOR: DARK FATE | ITUNES 4K | $6 [NOT MA]
TITANIC | VUDU HD OR ITUNES | $6.50
TOMB RAIDER | VUDU HD | $6.50
TOP GUN | VUDU HD | $5 [NOT MA]
TOP GUN | ITUNES 4K | $6 [NOT MA]
TRANSFORMERS COLLECTION + BUMBLEBEE | VUDU HD | $25
TRANSFORMERS: AGE OF EXTINCTION | UVHD | $3.50 [NOT MA]
TRANSFORMERS: AGE OF EXTINCTION | ITUNES 4K | $4.50 [NOT MA]
TROLLS/TROLLS 2 | MA/HD | $10
TROLLS: WORLD TOUR | MA/HD | $6
TRUMBO | iTunes | 5 [MA]
THE TURNING | MA/HD | $8
TWILIGHT SAGA: BREAKING DAWN 1 | iTunes | $4
TWILIGHT SAGA: BREAKING DAWN 2 | VUDU HD | $4
TYLER PERRY’S A MADEA FAMILY FUNERAL | VUDU HD OR ITUNES | $6 [NOT MA]
TYLER PERRY’S BOO 2! A MADEA HALLOWEEN | VUDU HD | $5.50 [NOT MA]
TYLER PERRY’S HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A WOMAN SCORNED | VUDU SD | $3
UNBROKEN | UVHD | $4
UNBROKEN | ITUNES | $3.50
UNCLE DREW | UVHD OR ITUNES 4K | $6.25 [NOT MA]
UNFORGETTABLE | MA/HD | $5.50
THE UPSIDE | iTunes HD | $5.50 [NOT MA]
USS INDIANAPOLIS: MEN OF COURAGE | VUDU HD | $5.00 [NOT MA]
THE VANISHING | VUDU HD | $7.50
VICE | MA/HD | $8
VIVARIUM | VUDU HD OR ITUNES | $9
WARCRAFT | VUDU HD | $4.50
WAVES | VUDU HD | $8 [NOT MA]
WE SUMMON THE DARKNESS | VUDU HD OR ITUNES | $8.50
WHAT MEN WANT | VUDU HD | $5.50 [NOT MA]
WHAT MEN WANT | ITUNES 4K | $4 [NOT MA]
WHAT WE DID ON OUR HOLIDAY | VUDU SD | $3.50 [NOT MA]
WHILE WE’RE YOUNG | VUDU SD | $3 [NOT MA]
WIDOWS | MA/HD | $5.50
THE WILD LIFE | ITUNES | $4
WILLY WONKA & THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY: 1971 | MA/HD | $6.50
WONDER | VUDU HD OR ITUNES | $5.50
WONDER PARK | ITUNES | $6 [NOT MA]
WORLD WAR Z | VUDU HD | $4.50 [NOT MA]
WRONG TURN 6: LAST RESORT | MA/HD | $4.50
XXX: RETURN OF XANDER CAGE | ITUNES 4K | $4 [NOT MA]
YESTERDAY | MA/HD | $6
Z FOR ZACHARIAH | VUDU SD | $3.50 [NOT MA]
ZOMBIELAND: DOUBLE TAP | MA/HD | $7
THE ZOOKEEPER’S WIFE | ITUNES → MA | $7
TV SHOWS: BALLERS: S2 | iTunes | $5
BALLERS: S3 | UVHD | $7.50
BALLERS: S3 | iTunes | $5
BAND OF BROTHERS | ITUNES | $8
BATMAN BEYOND: TV SHOW | VUDU HD | $30
BIG BANG THEORY: S8 | VUDU HD | $8
BLACKLIST: S2 | VUDU HD | $8
CHERNOBYL: S1 | VUDU HD | $8
GOT: S1-S8 | GP | $21
GOT: S4 | VUDU HD | $8
GOT: S4 | ITUNES | $7
GOT: S4 | GP | $7
GOT: S5 | VUDU HD | $8
GOT: S5 | ITUNES | $7
GOT: S5 | GP | $7
GOT: S7 | VUDU HD | $8
GOT: S7 | ITUNES | $7
GOT: S7 | GP | $7
GOT: S8 | VUDU | $9
GOT: S8 | ITUNES | $7
GOT: S8 | GP | $6
GOTHAM: S1 | VUDU HD | $8
HANNIBAL: S3 | VUDU SD | $5 [NOT MA]
HIS DARK MATERIALS: S1 | VUDU HD | $13.50
THE LAST SHIP: S5 | VUDU HD | $9.50
MY DINNER WITH HERVE | VUDU HD | $4.50
MY DINNER WITH HERVE | ITUNES | $3.50
MY DINNER WITH HERVE | GP | $2
THE OUTSIDER | VUDU HD | $12
RICK & MORTY: S1-S3 | VUDU HD | $25
RICK & MORTY: S2 | VUDU HD | $7
RICK & MORTY: S3 | VUDU HD | $7
RICK & MORTY: S4 | VUDU HD | $12
SCHITT’S CREEK: S1 & S2 | VUDU HD | $9
SCOOBY DOO: WHERE ARE YOU? | VUDU HD | $40
SHARP OBJECTS | iTunes | $6
SHARP OBJECTS | GP | $4
SUPERGIRL: S4 | VUDU HD | $9.50
TRUE DETECTIVE: S3 | VUDU HD | $10
TRUE DETECTIVE: S3 | ITUNES | $7
VEEP: THE FINAL SEASON | VUDU HD | $8
THE WALKING DEAD: S9 | VUDU HD | $10
DISNEY ANIMATED & LIVE 101 DALMATIANS | MA | $7
101 DALMATIANS | GP | $6
ALADDIN 2019 | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
ALADDIN 2019 | GP | $6
ALADDIN [ANIMATED] | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
ALADDIN [ANIMATED] | GP | $6
ALADDIN: THE RETURN OF JAFAR | MA | $8
ALADDIN: THE RETURN OF JAFAR | GP | $7
ALADDIN & THE KING OF THIEVES | MA | $8
ALADDIN & THE KING OF THIEVES | GP | $7
ALEXANDER AND THE TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY | MA | $7
ALEXANDER AND THE TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY | GP | $6
ALICE IN WONDERLAND [ANIMATED] | GP | $8
ARISTOCATS | MA | $8
BAMBI 1 | MA | $7
BAMBI 1 | GP | $6
BAMBI 2 | GP | $6
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST [ANIMATED] | GP | $6
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST [LIVE] | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST [LIVE] | GP | $6
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST: THE ENCHANTED XMAS | GP | $7
BIG HERO 6 | 4K UHD/MA | $8.50
BIG HERO 6 | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
BIG HERO 6 | GP | $6
THE CALL OF THE WILD | 4K UHD/MA | $8
THE CALL OF THE WILD | MA/HD | $7
THE CALL OF THE WILD | GP | $6
CHRISTOPHER ROBIN | MA | $7
CHRISTOPHER ROBIN | GP | $6
CINDERELLA [LIVE] | GP | $6
CINDERELLA 1 [ANIMATED] | MA | $7
CINDERELLA 1 [ANIMATED] | GP | $6
CINDERELLA 2 | MA | $7
CINDERELLA 3 | MA | $7
DISNEYNATURE: BORN IN CHINA | MA | $7
DUMBO [ANIMATED| GP | $9.50
DUMBO [LIVE] | 4K UHD/MA | $8
DUMBO [LIVE] | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
DUMBO [LIVE] | GP | $6
FOX AND THE HOUND 1 | MA | $7
FOX AND THE HOUND 1 | GP | $6
FOX AND THE HOUND 2 | MA | $7
FOX AND THE HOUND 2 | GP | $6
FROZEN 1| 4K UHD/MA | $8
FROZEN 1| GP | $6
FROZEN 2 | 4K UHD/MA | $9
FROZEN 2 | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $8
FROZEN 2 | GP | $7.50
HERCULES | MA | $7.50
HERCULES | GP | $6.50
HOCUS POCUS | 4K UHD/MA | $9.50
HOCUS POCUS | GP | $6
THE JUNGLE BOOK [LIVE] | 4K UHD/MA | $9
THE JUNGLE BOOK [LIVE] | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
THE JUNGLE BOOK [LIVE] | GP | $6
THE JUNGLE BOOK [ANIMATED] | MA | $7
THE JUNGLE BOOK 2 [ANIMATED] | MA | $7
LADY AND THE TRAMP | GP | $6.50
LILO & STITCH 2 | MA | $7
LILO & STITCH 2 | GP | $6
LION KING [LIVE] | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
LION KING [LIVE] | GP | $6
LION KING [ANIMATED] | 4K UHD/MA | $9
LION KING [ANIMATED] | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
LION KING [ANIMATED] | GP | $6
LION KING 1.5 | MA | $7.50
LION KING 1.5 | GP | $6.50
THE LITTLE MERMAID | 4K UHD/MA | $9
THE LITTLE MERMAID | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
THE LITTLE MERMAID | GP | $6
THE LITTLE MERMAID II: RETURN TO THE SEA | GP | $7
THE LITTLE MERMAID: ARIEL’S BEGINNING | GP | $7
THE LONE RANGER | MA | $7
THE LONE RANGER | GP | $6
MALEFICENT | 4K UHD/MA | $9
MALEFICENT | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
MALEFICENT | GP | $6
MALEFICENT: MISTRESS OF EVIL | 4K UHD/MA | $9
MALEFICENT: MISTRESS OF EVIL | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
MALEFICENT: MISTRESS OF EVIL | GP | $6
MARY POPPINS RETURNS | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
MARY POPPINS RETURNS | GP | $6
MARY POPPINS [1964] | GP | $6.50
MOANA | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7
MOANA | GP | $6
MULAN 1 | MA | $7
MULAN 2 | MA | $7
MULAN 2 | GP | $6
THE MUPPET MOVIE [1979] | MA | $8
THE MUPPET MOVIE [1979] | GP | $7
MUPPETS MOST WANTED | MA | $8
MUPPETS MOST WANTED | GP | $7
THE NUTCRACKER AND THE FOUR REALMS | 4K UHD/MA | $9
THE NUTCRACKER AND THE FOUR REALMS | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
THE NUTCRACKER AND THE FOUR REALMS | GP | $6
OLAF’S FROZEN ADVENTURE | MA | $7
OLAF’S FROZEN ADVENTURE | GP | $6
OZ: THE GREAT AND POWERFUL | MA | $7
OZ: THE GREAT AND POWERFUL | GP | $6
PETE’S DRAGON | MA | $7
PETE’S DRAGON | GP | $6
PINOCCHIO | MA | $7
PINOCCHIO | GP | $6
PIRATES 5 | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7
PIRATES 5 | GP | $6
PLANES | GP | $6
PLANES: FIRE & RESCUE | GP | $6
POCAHONTAS 1 | MA | $7
POCAHONTAS 1 | GP | $6
POCAHONTAS 2 | MA | $7
POCAHONTAS 2 | GP | $6
PETER PAN | MA | $7
PETER PAN | GP | $6
THE PRINCESS AND THE FROG | 4K UHD/MA | $8
THE PRINCESS AND THE FROG | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
THE PRINCESS AND THE FROG | GP | $6
QUEEN OF KATWE | MA | $7
QUEEN OF KATWE | GP | $6
ROBIN HOOD [ANIMATED] | GP | $6
SANTA CLAUSE 1 | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
SANTA CLAUSE TRILOGY | MA | $17
SANTA CLAUSE TRILOGY | GP | $14
WD: SHORT FILM COLLECTION | MA | $7
WD: SHORT FILM COLLECTION | GP | $6
SLEEPING BEAUTY | MA | $7
SLEEPING BEAUTY | GP | $6
SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS | MA | $7
SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS | GP | $6
SPIES IN DISGUISE | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $8
SPIES IN DISGUISE | GP | $7
TANGLED | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $8
TANGLED | GP | $6
THE SWORD IN THE STONE | MA | $7
TOMORROWLAND | GP | $6.50
A WRINKLE IN TIME | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $8
A WRINKLE IN TIME | GP | $6
ZOOTOPIA | 4K UHD/MA | $9
ZOOTOPIA | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
ZOOTOPIA | GP | $6
PIXAR BRAVE | 4K UHD/MA | $9
BRAVE | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $8
BRAVE | GP | $6
A BUG’S LIFE | GP | $6.50
CARS 1 | 4K UHD/MA | $8.50
CARS 1 | GP | $6
CARS 3 | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $6.50
CARS 3 | GP | $5
COCO | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $8
COCO | GP | $6
FINDING DORY | 4K UHD/MA | $8
FINDING DORY | GP | $6
FINDING NEMO | 4K UHD/MA | $8
FINDING NEMO | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7
FINDING NEMO | GP | $6
THE GOOD DINOSAUR | 4K UHD/MA | $8
THE GOOD DINOSAUR | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7
THE GOOD DINOSAUR | GP | $6
THE INCREDIBLES 2 | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7
THE INCREDIBLES 2 | GP | $6
INSIDE OUT | 4K UHD/MA | $8
INSIDE OUT | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7
INSIDE OUT | GP | $6
MONSTERS, INC | GP | $6
MONSTERS UNIVERSITY | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
MONSTERS UNIVERSITY | GP | $6
ONWARD | 4K UHD/MA | $9
ONWARD | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $8
ONWARD | GP | $7
RALPH BREAKS THE INTERNET | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $6.50
RALPH BREAKS THE INTERNET | GP | $5
RATATOUILLE | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $8.50
RATATOUILLE | GP | $5
TOY STORY OF TERROR | GP | $7
TOY STORY 1 | GP | $6
TOY STORY 3 | 4K UHD/MA | $9
TOY STORY 3 | GP | $6
TOY STORY 4 | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $6
TOY STORY 4 | MA | $4.50
UP | 4K UHD/MA | $9
UP | GP | $7
WALL-E | GP | $7
WRECK IT RALPH | 4K UHD/MA | $10
WRECK IT RALPH | GP | $6
DC COLLECTION BATMAN V. SUPERMAN: DAWN OF JUSTICE | MA/HD | $6
BIRDS OF PREY | MA/HD | $9.50
THE DARK KNIGHT | MA/HD | $4
THE DARK KNIGHT RISES | MA/HD | $3.50
DCU: BATMAN & HARLEY QUINN | MA/HD | $6.50
DCU: JUSTICE LEAGUE: WAR | MA/HD | $6.50
DCU: SON OF BATMAN | MA/HD | $6.50
DCU: SUICIDE SQUAD: HELL TO PAY | MA/HD | $6.50
JUSTICE LEAGUE | MA/HD | $5.50
JUSTICE LEAGUE DARK: APOKOLIPS WAR | MA/HD | $9.50
JUSTICE LEAGUE: THE FLASHPOINT PARADOX | MA/HD | $6.50
JUSTICE LEAGUE THRONE OF ATLANTIS | MA/HD | 6.50
LEGO BATMAN: DC SUPER HEROES UNITE | MA/HD | $6
REIGN OF THE SUPERMAN | MA/HD | $6
SHAZAM! | MA/HD | $9
SHAZAM! & WONDER WOMAN | MA/HD | $10
WONDER WOMAN: BLOODLINES | MA/HD | $6.50
MARVEL ANT-MAN | 4K UHD/MA | $9
ANT-MAN | GP | $6
ANT-MAN AND THE WASP | 4K UHD/MA | $9
AVENGERS 1 | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
AVENGERS 1 | GP | $6
AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON | 4K UHD/MA | $9
AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON | GP | $5.50
AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR | MA | $7
AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR | GP | $6
AVENGERS: ENDGAME | 4K UHD/MA | $7
AVENGERS: ENDGAME | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $6
AVENGERS: ENDGAME | GP | $5
BLACK PANTHER | 4K UHD/MA | $9
BLACK PANTHER | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
BLACK PANTHER | GP | $6
CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGERS | 4K UHD/MA | $9
CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER | ITUNES 4K → MA 4K | $8
CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER | GP | $7
CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR | GP | $6
CAPTAIN MARVEL | 4K UHD/MA | $8
CAPTAIN MARVEL | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
CAPTAIN MARVEL | GP | $6
DR. STRANGE | 4K UHD/MA | $8.50
DR. STRANGE | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
DR. STRANGE | GP | $6
GUARDIANS VOL. 1 | 4K UHD/MA | $9
GUARDIANS VOL. 1 | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
GUARDIANS VOL. 1 | GP | $6
GUARDIANS VOL. 2 | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
GUARDIANS VOL. 2 | GP | $6
THE INCREDIBLE HULK | 4K UHD/MA | $9
IRON MAN 1 | GP | $5
IRON MAN 2 | 4K UHD/MA | $8
IRON MAN 2 | GP | $6
IRON MAN 3 | 4K UHD/MA | $8
IRON MAN 3 | GP | $6
THOR 1 | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
THOR 1 | GP | $5
THOR: THE DARK WORLD | 4K UHD/MA | $9
THOR: THE DARK WORLD | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
THOR: THE DARK WORLD | GP | $5.50
THOR: RAGNAROK | 4K UHD/MA | $9
THOR: RAGNAROK | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7
THOR: RAGNAROK | GP | $5.50
X-MEN: BEGINNINGS TRILOGY | MA/HD | $16
STAR WARS ROGUE ONE: A STAR WARS STORY | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
ROGUE ONE: A STAR WARS STORY | GP | $5
SOLO | 4K UHD/MA | $8.50
SOLO | GP | $6.50
SKYWALKER SAGA | 4K UHD/MA | $75 [9 FILMS]
SKYWALKER SAGA | GP | $35 [9 FILMS]
STAR WARS 1-6 | 4K UHD/MA | $45
STAR WARS 1-6 | GP | $25
STAR WARS 1 | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7.50
STAR WARS 1 | GP | $6.50
STAR WARS 4 | 4K UHD/MA | $7.50
STAR WARS 4 | GP | $5.50
STAR WARS 5 | 4K UHD/MA | $7.50
STAR WARS 5 | GP | $5.50
STAR WARS 6 | GP | $5.50
STAR WARS: THE FORCE AWAKENS | 4K UHD/MA | $8
STAR WARS: THE FORCE AWAKENS | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $7
STAR WARS: THE FORCE AWAKENS | GP | $5
STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $6.50
STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI | GP | $4
STAR WARS: THE RISE OF SKYWALKER | 4K UHD/MA | $9
STAR WARS: THE RISE OF SKYWALKER | iTunes 4K → MA 4K | $8
STAR WARS: THE RISE OF SKYWALKER | GP | $7
4K MOVIES 21 JUMP STREET | 4K UHD/MA | $7.50
22 JUMP STREET | 4K UHD/MA | $7.50
ANGRY BIRDS 2 | 4K UHD/MA | $7.50
ANNA | 4K UHD VUDU | $7.50 [NOT MA]
APOLLO 13 | 4K UHD VUDU | $7.50
AQUAMAN | 4K UHD/MA | $7.50
BATMAN QUADRILOGY | 4K UHD/MA | $25
BIRDS OF PREY | 4K UHD/MA | $8.50
THE BLUES BROTHERS | 4K UHD/MA | $7.50
BOMBSHELL | 4K UHD VUDU OR ITUNES 4K | $8 [NOT MA]
THE BOURNE IDENTITY | 4K UHD VUDU | $6.50
THE BOURNE SUPREMACY | ITUNES 4K | $6
THE BOURNE LEGACY | ITUNES 4K | $6
BRAHMS: THE BOY II | ITUNES 4K | $7.50 [NOT MA]
BRAVEHEART | 4K UHD VUDU | $7.50 [NOT MA]
BRAVEHEART | ITUNES 4K | $7 [NOT MA]
CHARLIE’S ANGELS [2000] | 4K UHD/MA | $8
CHARLIE’S ANGELS | 4K UHD/MA | $8
COLUMBIA CLASSICS COLLECTION [6 MOVIES] | 4K UHD/MA | $40
DADDY'S HOME 2 | 4K UHD [VUDU] | $7 - NOT MA
DADDY’S HOME 2 | iTunes 4k | $4 - NOT MA
THE DARK TOWER | 4K UHD/MA | $7.50
DAYS OF THUNDER | 4K UHD VUDU OR ITUNES 4K | $8
DEADPOOL | ITUNES 4K → MA 4K | $6
THE DEATH OF SUPERMAN | 4K UHD/MA | $8
THE DEATH AND RETURN OF SUPERMAN | 4K UHD/MA | $8
DC 7 FILM COLLECTION | 4K UHD/MA | $30
ENDER’S GAME | VUDU UHD | $7 [NOT MA]
ENDER’S GAME | ITUNES 4K | $6 [NOT MA]
FANTASTIC BEASTS: THE CRIMES OF GRINDELWALD | 4K UHD/MA | $7.50
FAST AND THE FURIOUS COLLECTION | 4K UHD/MA | $25
FIRST MAN | 4K UHD/MA | $8
GEMINI MAN | ITUNES 4K | $6 [NOT MA]
GLADIATOR | 4K UHD VUDU | $7.50 [NOT MA]
GLADIATOR | ITUNES 4K | $7 [NOT MA]
GODZILLA 2019 | 4K UHD/MA | $7.50
THE GOONIES | 4K UHD/MA | $9.50
HELLBOY 2019 | 4K UHD VUDU OR ITUNES 4K | $7.50
HELLFEST | 4K UHD VUDU OR ITUNES 4K | $7.50 [NOT MA]
HOBBS/SHAW | 4K UHD/MA | $8
HOME ALONE | ITUNES 4K → MA 4K | $6.50
HOTEL TRANSYLVANIA 3 | 4K UHD/MA | $7.50
INDEPENDENCE DAY | ITUNES 4K → MA 4K | $6.50
THE INVISIBLE MAN | 4K UHD/MA | $8.50
IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE | 4K UHD VUDU | $7.50
IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE | ITUNES | $6
JAWS | 4K UHD/MA | $8
JOKER | 4K UHD/MA | $7.50
JUMANJI: THE NEXT LEVEL | 4K UHD/MA | $9
JUSTICE LEAGUE | 4K UHD/MA | $8
JUSTICE LEAGUE DARK | 4K UHD/MA | $9
JUSTICE LEAGUE VS. THE FATAL FIVE | 4K UHD/MA | $9
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2020.10.12 22:31 AModernDayOrion Mom pornpics bang teens

So, over the weekend my group and I got together and I ran three film reroll games (we did use GURPS for the record) for them. One on Friday, on Saturday, and the final one on Sunday. We gamed for about 20 hours in total. It was such an amazing weekend, and it was so much fun. The movies we did were: A Nightmare on Elm Street, Pumpkinhead, and The Evil Dead.
I wanted to share our games with y’all and so I will be doing a recap of them here on the subreddit. Here is the first one we did on Friday.

A Nightmare on Elm Street – Total game time – 8 & ½ hours
Tina finds herself walking around a darkened boiler room. There is steam filling the air as the leaky pipes make the surroundings wet and uncomfortable. As she walks through the twisting corridors she runs into a lone sheep. Tina cautiously reaches out to pet the animal but stepping out of the shadows the sheep’s face is revealed to be bat-like and it lunges to bite her. Barely pulling her hand away in time Tina runs deeper into the boiler room. She comes upon a workbench with many weird gloves on it and a lengthy figure in shadows appears and lunges at her.
Tina wakes up in her bed with a start and is confronted by her dismissive mother. She notices that there are four parallel cuts along the front of her nightgown. Tina quickly jumps out of bed and begins to write down her nightmare as best she can, but she is not the best English student.
The next morning Tina meets up with her best friend Nancy and Nancy’s boyfriend Glenn. As they drive to school Tina shows her friends the torn-up nightgown and her dream writings. Nancy and Glenn agree to stay over at Tina’s that night to give her peace of mind. Rod arrives and confronts the group. Tina is not ready to forgive Rod for his misdoings and he storms off shortly before school begins. The trio continue to talk and realized they all dreamt of the same guy and Glenn wants to look into shared dreaming more.
In classes throughout the day, the teens each have some experiences. Glenn talks to his anthropology teacher about cultures with shared dreams and discovers a story of a tribe in Indonesia that did just that. The tribe in question disappeared in a massacre like event that was attributed to a civil war. All villagers disappeared without a trace except for one boy in a coma. That boy never woke up until he died of a heart attack in his 70s.
Tina was in art class and having dozed off she began to draw a childlike drawing of Freddy. The teacher was surprised by this, but let it go as the teacher was new to Springwood. Nancy was in a different art class and while wide awake made a sculpture of Freddy. One well enough that the teacher noticed it and became ghost white. He quickly told her he was going to take her sculpture to the archives to catalog it and then disappeared into the crowded halls before Nancy could stop him.
That night the trio hangs out at Tina’s and just like the movie Glenn gives a hilarious Sound FX tape performance and convinces his mother that he is at his cousin's Barry’s house.
(Fun fact: We decided that the Reroll’s version of E.T. was this universes version of the ’82 film. So, since Glenn’s cousin was named Barry, his player decided that his cousin was a huge pain to be around since the movie came out due to his now inflated ego.)
As the teens talk and laugh, they hear a screeching sound coming from outside. Nancy and Glenn move to lock the back door only to have Rod show up and scare them. He pushes his way and tries to take Tina into the back bedroom. Nancy convinces Rod to wait in the master bedroom as she talks to Tina for a minute first.
Nancy tries to get Tina to not forgive Rod and she agrees. When Glenn hears Rod snoring in the bedroom as he and the girls decide to just leave Rod to sleep it off and they all go back to Nancy’s house. Glenn crit succeeds in a rose picking scrounge and gives Nancy a pristine rose that makes Nancy start to think she is in love. They sleep through the night with only mild Freddy nightmares/cameos between them and awake unscathed in the morning chalking the previous nightmare event up to Tina’s imagination.
Tina decides to call Rod at her house while Glenn goes home to change clothes and Nancy speaks to her mother. Tina is surprised when a strange man answers the phone and identifies himself as a police officer. As they talk Lt. Thompson gets wind that his daughter may be involved and grabs the phone from Sgt. Parker and asks Tina where she is. Tina in a panic tells the truth and the Lt. rushes to his daughter. When he arrives, he embraces Nancy and informs them that Rod was dead and that the teens would need to go to the police station to answer some questions. As they go to leave, Lt. Thompson yells at Marge Thompson about letting Nancy near a delinquent like Lane.
The teens get interrogated at the police station and Tina is to wait on her mom and boyfriend to return from their trip. Nancy offers to have Tina stay with her and they all agree. Glenn and his dad get into a huge argument about the incident and Nancy charms her dad into giving her some extra details about the murder.
Nancy asks her mother to stop by the school so that she can get the homework assignments for her, Tina, and Glenn for the next few days. While there she decides to go check on her art project that was mysteriously taken away from her. The secretary mentioned an old room near the boiler room of the school that used to be called the archives more than a decade prior but was now just a storage area. Nancy found the room and upon investigating found a caged off section with shelves of drawings and sculptures of Freddy in various states of destroyed. Her sculpture had been smashed on the ground. Unable to get into the area she returned to her mother and Tina.
When the women arrived home, Nancy ran across the street to check on Glenn and give him his homework. Glenn, still in an argument with his father, ran outside to meet Nancy and the two went and hid around the house. They discussed the events that they knew and in a romantic scene kissed one another. They both did badly on their rolls and Nancy fell over. Glenn and Nancy walked back to Nancy’s house. Marge was trying her best to console the kids and made them each a tea. Glenn, being exhausted from the long argument with his father, nodded off and found the living room empty and dark. There were fall leaves everywhere and falling from the ceiling. He heard his name whispered from upstairs and followed the voice. In Nancy’s room, he found the rose he had picked for her on the wall by her door. A petal fell off in front of him as he saw a seductive Nancy on her bed. He walks over to her and she throws him on to the bed and begins to kiss him. Then in a scene pulled directly from Joey in dream warriors Nancy’s tongue elongates and is spit out to tie him to the bed frames. As Freddy begins to play with Glenn in the dream world, Nancy and Tina notice Glenn shaking in the waking world. His nose starts to bleed, and Nancy tries to awaken him. Glenn is stabbed in the chest (though barely) and Nancy and Tina are able to rouse him from his dream. Glenn looks down in pain and notices a rose petal on his shoe.
Seeing the four wounds appear on Glenn’s chest, Marge panics and rushes to the kitchen to get some more drink. Nancy follows demanding answers and Marge tells her of Freddy Krueger. She tells that Krueger killed Nancy’s older brother when she was too young to remember. Not believing her mother, Nancy demands proof. Marge takes the children downstairs and shows the glove in the boiler.
Glenn faints from a failed fright check and finds himself in his bedroom watching Ms. Nude America (just like in the actual movie) and his mother walks in. They talk and Glenn begins to wonder if any of the past few days were real. Then the gloved hand shoots out of his bed and begins to pull him down. Glen begins to bend painfully in half in front of Nancy, Tina, and Marge. Marge takes the glove in a panic and runs upstairs and throws it in her closet. Tina tries to find a first aid kit to help and Nancy stays with Glenn.
Nancy is able to wake Glenn up just before Freddy can repeat the movie kill and Glenn now in bad shape is struggling to stay alive. Nancy remembers a medkit under her kitchen sink and runs for it, only to find a bottle of half drank whiskey in its place. She returns to Glenn’s side and tells him she loves him before he succumbs to his wounds.
Tina had called 9-1-1 at this point and Lt. Thompson is first to arrive on the scene. He tries to be comforting while also doing his job but doesn’t do great. Nancy now in a steely-eyed trance decides to find a way to end this nightmare and leaves with Tina. Sgt. Garcia has also arrived and noticed Tina filch the Lt.’s gun. Tina tosses the gun back when confronted and runs off the jump into Glenn’s car with Nancy. Lt. Thompson and Garcia speak briefly, and the Lt. lets slip that he was part of the group that killed Freddy. Finally noticing his daughter is missing. He runs outside to see the girls turn down a street in the distance.
Lt. Thompson calls dispatch for an APB and upon a crit fail contacts roll is connected to Jeff.
(We figured that with it being 1984, only 5 years after the events of Halloween 2, (and hopefully Halloween 3 soon) Jeff would have moved to Springwood to get away from the craziness of Haddonfield)
Jeff tries to get the right information, but Jeff’s the whole this up and puts out an APB on the wrong car. More on that in a minute. Garcia thinks that Marge is too hysterical and has her taken to Westin Hills for evaluation. Lt. Thompson does not fight this.
The girls drive over to Nancy’s dad’s apartment and break into his gun safe to arm themselves. Afterwards, they run by the public library and Nancy looks through the microfilm to learn more about Freddy. When she discovers that most of the articles have been redacted, she confronts the librarian. The librarian panics and lies badly to her, telling her it must have been a mistake or a bad copy or something. Nancy, fed up with all the lies, pulls a gun on the elderly woman giving her a heart attack in the process.
Meanwhile, Tina returns briefly to her home and finds the remains of the crime scene. She takes the drawing she had made of Freddy and burns it and her whole house down.
Lt. Thompson and Sgt. Garcia drives around and looks for the girls. They have a long conversation about daughters, and we discover that Garcia has an adoptive daughter (Sara) that he is trying his best to raise. Garcia makes a snarky remark about Nancy’s mental state and Thompson slams on the brakes and threatens the Sgt. When other drivers begin to honk at him, Thompson brandishes his gun to get them to stop. Before the situation can escalate further the men receive a call from Jeff that they found the car.
When the officers arrive, they discover that Jeff pulled over a blue truck with two men of color driving. The Sgt. rips into Jeff for the error and Lt. Thompson puts out another APB.
It doesn’t take long for the new APB to hit paydirt as the officers are informed that the girls were spotted at the public library.
The officers catch up to the girls as they are leaving the library and a car chase ensues. The chase goes to the old abandoned factory outside of town and the girls stop there to run inside. Nancy makes it in, and Tina has Garcia right on her heels. As Garcia lunges for Tina he crit fails his roll and dives headfirst into the metal door, knocking himself out.
Nancy and Tina run to a platform in the middle of the burnt-out area of the boiler room and make rolls to force themselves to fall asleep. The ruling was they had to succeed on a will roll and then fail an HT roll with the margin of success on the will making the HT roll harder. Nancy manages to fall asleep clutching the shotgun and Tina crit succeeds her HT roll and so cannot fall asleep naturally. Tina, wanting badly to enter the dream world, runs to the door of the factory. Lt. Thompson has been banging on the door trying to get in when Tina opens it and points a gun at the Lt. and tells him to “Tase me!” Lt. Thompson intimidates the young girl and runs past her. Tina, undeterred takes Garcia’s taser and tases herself into unconsciousness.
Garcia finds himself in the boiler room labyrinth and wanders for a few minutes before finding a shotgun packing Nancy pulling a Joz played Laurie Strode and yelling for the “fucker to show himself.”
Tina awakens in a body of water and after servicing, finds herself in a cold boiler. The pipes begin to heat up quickly and Tina barely manages to escape. She finds the same workbench from her first dream and finds Freddy there waiting. She tries to stand up to him, but to no avail as Freddy quickly eviscerates her.
Nancy and Garcia hear Tina’s scream and run to meet him. They each open fire and only Garcia hits. Freddy, unfazed, advances. Nancy tries to take away Freddy’s powers by standing up to him (my player later admitted she was using meta-knowledge here) and it was starting to work. But, in the waking world Lt. Thompson tried to wake up his daughter and succeed to pull her out of her dream, breaking the effect.
Lt. Thompson embraced his daughter who told her father of the struggle with Freddy in her dream and then proceeded to bash her head against the steel floor to knock herself back out. Lt. Thompson, finally believing his daughter decides to do the same and has a harder time knocking himself out.
Nancy returns to the dream and finds Freddy squaring off with Garcia. Nancy tackles Freddy, but Freddy manages to catch her by the throat. Lt. Thompson finally knocks himself out and enters the dream world. He sees his daughter held by Krueger and tries to talk him into letting her go. Freddy humors it for a moment but keeps his glove level with Nancy’s throat.
Garcia, seeing an opening, charges at Freddy, but with a crit fail ends up running into Nancy and jams her neck into Freddy’s blades and causes her to be decapitated.
Lt. Thompson is frozen in terror and so Freddy attacks Garcia ripping his chest open. Then turning his attention to Thompson, Freddy decides he’d rather allow the torment to continue for the man who organized his initial death and wakes Thompson up.
Lt. Thompson comes to on the floor of the factory next to the bloody decapitated corpse of his daughter and near the dead bodies of Tina and Garcia. Sirens closing in the distance. Due to his violent actions with Garcia and angry conversation with his wife earlier, Thompson makes a roll and decides that his life has been destroyed. Both of his children are dead, his wife (whom he still loved) is in an asylum, and he will likely be thrown in prison for the murders, decides to give us a very dark ending, and turn his shotgun on himself.
The film ends with the camera panning back over the chaos of the boiler room as police officers run into the factory. They yell “Lt. put the gun down. Do it. No don’t!” and we smash cut to black as we hear a shotgun discharge.
fin

And that was my group's version of A Nightmare on Elm Street
I’m thinking about running a sequel were Garcia’s daughter returns to Springwood 10 years later to discover the truth about her father’s death. She would likely be joined by either some local teens who are trying to get their Scooby-Doo on or a documentary film crew trying to cover the story of the crazy police officer.
I will be posting the recaps for Pumpkinhead and The Evil Dead as soon as I am able to get them written out.
I hope y’all enjoy these as much as we all enjoyed running them.
Happy Halloween month everyone!
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2020.10.12 09:49 CVMist Mom bang teens pornpics

This is a bit discombobulated, I am very emotional right now. Apologies for the rant and wall of text.
TL;DR: My mentally ill brother was physically abusive to me as a teen, back then and now my parents belittle my traumatic experience and it triggers me as they want us to get along. How do I make them understand that it is an impossible request?
My brother had impulse control issues from young age. He was diagnosed with ADHD at 8 and medicated. My parents themselves didn't have fantastic communication skills and there was a lot of fighting in the house until they separated and divorced when I was around 12. My dad was physically and psychologically abusive to all of us and probably a major reason why my brother ended up the way he did.
I cut ties with my brother more than 20 years ago. After bouncing in and out of NC for 30 years with my dad I cut the ties with him 3 years ago.
My brother was taken off methylphenidate (Ritalin) at 16 and began self-medicating with cannabis and later more dangerous chemicals. In his mid twenties he was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia.
The years prior he was multiple times physically abusive to me and I kept telling my parents that something was seriously wrong with him. Some examples: he pushed me down a flight of stairs, pushed me against a glas table, he hit me with a hammer on my back, he threatened that he would slit my stomach when I was sleeping so when I was still living at home, I always had to lock the door to my room, he brought a pit bull from one of his drug dealer friends and put him at the house entrance and said the dog was trained to kill me so I couldn't leave then started banging my door and screamed that he wanted to see my blood splatter at the wall. Most of this happened when my mother wasn't there or the same part of the house so she never saw it happening with her own eyes. I had multiple injuries such as cuts and bruises that she saw.
Whenever there was a big fight the blame was put on me since I was accused of triggering him, that i was the one yelling louder and it was generally categorised as sibling rivalry. I was expected to walk the high road since according to my parents I was the stronger and smarter one with a future ahead whereas he was always seen as the problematic sick child who needed to get coddled and wouldn't get anywhere.
I didn't know back then why I did this, but I developed a coping mechanism by leaving. I moved to a larger city at 17 and lived on my own while I finished what can compared to A-levels over here so I could study. I worked and travelled over the winter holidays in Asia to avoid family birthdays and Christmasses. I went overseas for several years to study, then moved half across my country and haven't been back for 22 years except for visits. I haven't been celebrating Christmas with my mother for almost 25 years since she insists on inviting my brother and it inevitably will end up in us fighting.
The way I feel when my brother is around is similar to a volcano shortly before erupting. It is a noticeable physical reaction and whilst i dont place it into the fear category it feels like my inside is about to explode. It is an awful feeling, I don't even have it when I found out for example that the father of my child cheated on me or when I got laid off unjust due to mobbing. It's a lot worse.
I had multiple conversations with my mom and suggested that we could swap the years we do Christmas but she insists on my brother being there and she insists on us getting along and asks me to be the greater person. But I can't. I really can't do it and I think I shouldn't be asked to either.
Over the years I tried over and over again to explain to her that it is causing me physical pain and that I don't want to put myself into a situation where we end up fighting. She says that I should learn to behave and control my impulses. I tried many times to explain to her that it is a trauma I am dealing with and that she wouldn't ask any other abuse survivor to be in the same room as their abuser. She responds that she cannot remember any abuse and that I am being a drama queen. She also says that since my brother now is on a 3 month injection medication that he isn't dangerous and I should get over it.
I am told by my employer often times that I am a very rational and calm person. I am well respected as a calming and thoughtful advice giver in my circle of friends and people often refer to me for solving complex interpersonal matters. I know I am not a drama queen and I know I am not crazy.
I have a son and since she lives across the country, I started visiting for summer vacations at left him for a few days as it is custom over here. Both his father and I explained rationally and calmly that we ask her to not invite my brother over. She did it behind my back. I only found out in the second year when my son was able to tell me. I asked her again not to do this and she again played it down and said I was a drama queen and overreacting. And she did it again. So the result is now that unfortunately I can't send my son there for vacation anymore since I cannot trust her.
His father and I were livid. He met my brother once and agrees that he is dangerous. He also saw the evidence that my brother was still taking drugs despite my mother claiming my brother was drug free. We saw the drug baggies when we had to clean out my brothers messy flat 7 years ago. My brother was about to be evicted due to his neighbours complaining about his psychotic episodes in which he would start yelling and seeing things and threatening neighbors. It was the last day of the notice period and the movers had refused to enter the flat. So it was up to me, 6 month pregnant with my son at the time, it was my birthday, too and I had to go into a stinking dirty messy flat and clean it out, constantly fearing my brother would turn up.
Today my mom mentioned her last will and how she wants me to sit with him at a table to discuss it. I first tried to remind her calmly that we will have to find another way since I cant do this. This triggered her to blackmailing me with the threat that she will either write the will together with us getting along nicely on one table or her writing her will in a way that will force me to get a long with him so my son gets his inheritance. She doesn't understand how cruel this is to me and this quickly spins me out of control and I start yelling at her for not respecting my boundaries and not accepting that this is not just some sibling rivalry but me dealing for 25 years with a trauma that only gets worse and worse. She says I should grow up and handle it like an adult and then often gives a 150 examples that miss the point completely such as other people. I keep telling her that it isn't about other people but about ME and MY traumatic experience. She doesn't listen.
I am at my wits end. I don't want to go NC on her too. It was hard enough to go NC on my dad. I must get her to understand that my fears have justification and what she is doing to me when she refuses to accept that her son is the abuser in my story and that her job is not to make us get along but to protect both of us.
Help please?
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