Girls clothes ripped off

Quote texts are his comments that I replied to.

It’s been shoved down our throats 24/7 since 2020-2021.

Pride has existed way longer than then. The reason Pride exists, the reason there’s an emphasis on promoting LGBT people in media, is to normalize their existence for millions of people who are often times indoctrinated by their parents into hating those people. Pride is the only reason I broke out of the homophobic, bigoted environment I was raised in and began to accept people.

Prior to that, no one knew or cared about pronouns, now it’s all the rage.

Pronouns have existed for as long as various languages have existed. Even the use of the singular “they” has been used in English since the 1300s. The “rage” surrounding pronouns is merely people stating what shortened form to calling them by their name they prefer. That’s it. You’re acting like this is some “Let’s eat TidePods” -esque internet trend. It’s harmless. I’ve been on the internet in plenty of spaces that had LGBT people, and, in the past 3 years or so, I can count on one hand the amount of times I had to make any effort to remember someone’s pronouns. It’s not that complicated, nor does it signify the downfall of society that you make it out to be.

God forbid I call a man a man, a woman a woman, or people, people.
You literally can’t make any sort of valid criticism towards LGBT without getting labeled a homophobe / transphobe.

Damn. I wonder why they call you a transphobe. What an enigma.

There’s the option to put your pronouns on social media, which is absolutely fucking stupid.

Why? Because you don’t want to use it? Then don’t. There also remains the option to link your other social medias, link your website, post your phone number, advertise your business, pay to promote your own ads on other people’s feeds, direct message celebrities who obviously won’t respond to you, follow bot accounts that will probably just send your porn or try to scam you out of your money. All of these things have something in common: you can choose to participate, or you can choose to ignore. If it bothers you, just don’t use the feature or delete the app. To your surprise I’m sure, there are millions of people who gladly use the pronouns feature. You are extremely sensitive and bigoted if this genuinely gets you up in arms. My lord.

There’s people who honestly believe that men menstruate.

Transgender men and intersex men can and do menstruate in many occasions. Cisgender men obviously cannot. When people say “men can menstruate” they are speaking of trans or intersex men. You just choose to ignore this fact because you believe there is no such thing, which you are wrong about.

There’s men dressing up as women desperately trying to get near children to read them books for “Drag Queen story time”.

There’s adult men putting on ridiculous costumes and wearing makeup and attending children’s gatherings to entertain them. What are we gonna do about clowns?
“Desperately trying to get near children” Sounds to me like you can’t imagine a scenario where an adult can wish to read to children they aren’t related to without immediately thinking of sexual abuse. These events occur in public spaces under the supervision of parents. They read to these kids books about loving and accepting yourself and treating people equally. You act like they’re a bunch of sex offenders straight out of prison trying to show children what dildos are. You are absolutely delusional, and your homophobia is showing.

I go to Target, and there’s rainbows and LGBT flags printed all over children’s clothing. Not just in June during “Pride” month. It’s there year-round.

Oh, I know. When I was a kid I had to endure the trauma of reading books about families with straight couples. Oh, the horror! How dare they introduce children to such filth! Leave the kids alone!
I can’t believe they put ideological flags all over kids’ clothes regarding topics they don’t understand. Stop putting those American flags on my kids’ clothes! Quit indoctrinating them into a tribalistic belief of national supremacy!
In all seriousness, why is this an issue? If you believe it’s okay to be gay in the same ways you believe it’s okay to be straight you would not act this way. If you don’t like the existence of gay people (you know, almost like a homophobe), then just say so. Stop pretending to view straight and gay people the same. You don’t.

You have our President announcing Easter Sunday that day is “Trans Awareness” day.

Trans Awareness day has occurred on March 31 every year for the past fifteen years. In case you weren’t aware, the date of Easter changes every single year. This year, both events happened to fall on the same day. President Biden acknowledged both events on that day. Anyways, since when is only one celebration allowed to occur per day? Hanukkah and Kwanzaa occur at the same time. Should they fight to see who deserves their holiday the most? That’s like being mad that some people are born on Christmas and celebrate both occasions. Besides, why is it so blasphemous to celebrate those specific events on the same day? If you believe in Jesus, don’t you believe he loved everyone and wanted everybody to care for their neighbor? Why do you fight so valiantly to demean LGBT people? That seems to go against a belief that we are all created and loved equally, but you can just go ahead and make up your own rules to the religion. That’s how it works, right?

Now June is known as “Pride” month, when in reality, it’s Mens Mental Health month.

Now October is known as “ADHD Awareness” month, when in reality, it’s Breast Cancer Awareness month. Fuck your ADHD awareness! My condition takes priority over yours! This month is all mine! No one else’s!
It’s ridiculous and tribalistic to act like every month should only focus on one unprivileged group at a time. I guess we have to consolidate all the cancers into one month, first off. Maybe combine all the historically oppressed minority groups into one month as well. This guy on Reddit knows to focus on the real issues.
Men’s mental health has only gotten worse since the awareness month became a thing in 1994. The month obviously hasn’t worked very well. Especially considering I didn’t even know it was a thing until 10 minutes ago. Pride Month has been celebrated since 1970, and it became official in 1999. Since then, support for LGBT rights has skyrocketed. To claim that a wholly ineffective month takes precedent over something as iconic and impactful as Pride month shows how out of touch you are.
For the record, I’m entirely in support of acknowledging Men’s mental health awareness, and I am sorry for the loss of your friend, but whoever is promoting this month needs to do a WAY better job. Male suicide has only increased since that month became a thing. These days, too many men try hard to act tough instead of admitting their true emotions, resulting in pent up anger that is often times lashed out at innocent people for unnecessary reasons. I think that’s why you have so much hate for the LGBT community; either that or you’re very susceptible to propaganda.
I can assure you the reason men’s mental health is shit is not because of some kinky pride events. It’s because we are a society by men, for men, expecting all men to be breadwinners who are also tall, buff, and attractive. It’s because women have become commodified and it’s way easier to get a boyfriend as a girl than it is to get a girlfriend as a man. There are many things to blame: political leaders, our economic system, our own testosterone…
LGBT people are not one of them.
Shift your focus to the real issues at hand and stop demonizing people who suffer many of the same mental health issues you to claim to care about.

Michael Cera is walking down the hall of his school when a school shooting starts...
He and some of his classmates find a room to hide in.
While they're all hiding, crouched behind desks (listening to the screams and gun shots outside), Cera sees a girl among them that he has a crush on, "hot girl #1",
She starts looking over in his direction.
She makes a hand motion for him to come over towards her.
So Michael Cera smiles nervously and starts moving over.
But then as he does, another hot girl (hot girl #2) crawls past him, and he realizes that it was actually HER that hot girl #1 was summoning.
They both glare at him as a result of seeing his mistake.
hot girl 1 (whispering): "ugh, GROSS! like i would EVER want to hide from a shooter with YOU!"
hot girl 2 (whispering): "um...AWK-waaaaarrrrrrrrrrrd...."
but then the shooter walks into their room and shoots the hot girls first. their heads explode.
the shooter kills everyone else in the classroom too, except michael cera.
the shooter instead walks over to michael cera, like a zombie.
michael cera just sits there like a dear (not a typo) in the headlights, screaming.
but then the shooter just shoots himself in the head instead.
the shooter's body falls onto michael cera, who is now too scared to even screem.
meanwhile, outside, the police department is hiding.
gay officer: "i don't want to go in there, sherriff. he has a GUN! what if he SHOT it at us!? it's TOO SCARY."
sherriff: "don't worry, we're not goin in. i got special orders..."
the sherriff then makes the "sshhh" gesture with his finger on his mouth.
but then michael cera comes out, holding the gun away from himself, like it's a used condom, when he finds the cops hiding behind a corner.
michael cera: "um, ...hello?"
gay officer screams bloody murder and bolts outta there.
sherriff (looking at Cera): "what the hell are you doin son?"
michael cera: "uh, i don't know what's going on. there was a shooter, he had this gun. please take it before it gets into the wrong hands."
sherriff (points his gun at Cera and cocks it): "i don't think so.."
michael cera: "...wait, what?"
but then the news cameras are on the scene, and they can see the two of them
so the sherriff lowers his weapon and says: "you're under arrest for the Maple Park School Shooting^tm "
michael cera: "the what?"
sherriff puts cuffs on him and says: "it's what they're gonna call this event here today."
michael cera: "but i didn't... ok. fine."
michael cera goes to jail, pleading all the while that he didn't do anything.
he sees scary faces of big-ass gorilla-lookin niggas, in the jail cells that he passes by.
the guard tells him that his attourney will be with him soon, that he should try to just get a good nights sleep, cause he's gonna have a long day tomorrow.
we cut to a montage of news coverage of the shooting.
classmates that never actually met michael cera (don't even get his name right) are now on tv claiming that they did everything they could to make him feel accepted, but say that there was nothing they could do beceuse he was always just a twisted, fucked-up psycho.
these classmates also take this oppourtunity to plug their movie-review youtube channels, diy cooking instagrams, and celebrity-parody twitter accounts.
the next morning, michael cera is given a big bin of mail that he's recieved already, and is told that his lawyer is arriving now.
michael cera reads a letter from the bin while he waits.
we only see Cera's shocked reaction to the first letter, while his lawyer(played by Matthew Mcconahay) comes in.
lawyer: "hi there, Michael, I'm your lawyer Matt. Before we get started, is there any questions you might have?"
michael cera: "yeah, how am i getting mail for this already? this just happened yesterday..."
lawyer: "yeah, but it happened yesterday MORNING. so there was plenty of time for some people to see you on the news and write letters before the mail went out for the day. this is just the batch of letters that made the cutoff."
michael cera: "wow."
lawyer: "yeah. it's a lot. you'll get used to it."
michael cera: "uh, i noticed a lot of these are love letters. from girls. in fact it seems like all of them are."
lawyer: "right, well i wouldn't worry about that. i deal with a lot of mass shooting, terrorist attack, and serial killing cases. the accused man always get a whole forest's worth of letters from nubile young women begging for him to fertalize their ovaries and defile them in every concievable way. it's something to do with the primal effect of a man asserting dominance through a public violent act or something. Oh and by the way, under this state's laws, the accused are also given full access to conjucal visit privilages no matter the crime, so a lot of men like you have that option available when they feel inclined and they usually do. Anyway, if we can get started on where you were during the events of the crime scene, i can try to--"
but we see that michael cera is not listening anymore.
we cut to a montage of michael cera plowing one groupie after another, in a trailer, to the tune of Hallelujah played by leonard cohen.
we cut to a news clip, telling us that the case will soon go to trial.
we cut to michael cera meeting with his lawyer again.
lawyer: "michael, listen to me, we have all the evidence in the world that you're innocent. if you just give me permission to plead that way, we can get you off the hook!"
lawyer is rubbing his head like he has a headache, as a result of dealing with Cera. he opens up his bottle of asprin to get a quick pill for himself while he listens to Cera's response.
michael cera: "yeah, maybe. i just dunno..."
lawyer: "if you don't give me permission, then i'll just have to do it without your permission. i will not lose this case just because you're too scared to fight back!"
but just then, another lawyer (a Men-In-Black lookin chick), we'll call her "lawyer 2" steps in.
lawyer 2: "michael cera, i'm so sorry to hear about the passing of your lawyer, but I want to let you know that as your NEW lawyer, i-- oh shit, you're still here."
lawyer: "yeah I'm still here, what the hell are you talking about?"
lawyer 2: "oh, nevermind. i'll see myself out."
...
lawyer: "anyway, as i was saying..."
lawyer takes his pill, then starts foaming at the mouth, with some kind of chemical gas fumes spilling out, he then keels over.
lawyer 2 pops back in.
lawyer 2: "ok, you remember my shpeil from earlier, right? i don't have to repeat that?"
michael cera: "is he ok?"
lawyer 2: "no, i'm afraid it appears he's had a heart attack."
michael cera: "THAT'S what a heart attack looks like?!"
lawyer 2: "i know, it's not like in the movies at all, is it?
lawyer 2 pushes lawyer 1's body out of the seat so that she can sit there instead.
lawyer 2: Anywho, i've taken the time to look over your case and i must say it's not good news. i'm afraid we don't have much of a chance on this one, i'm gonna reccomend you plead guilty."
michael cera: "...oh...ok!
Michael cera now has tattoos on his face and body, and wears a doo rag.
he is now open about his phony role in shooting. He looks straight at us, the audience, and says "i don't give a CRAP anymore."
As a result, one day, he is in a conjucal visit trailer with a fan, and he tells her "before we get started, i just want to make sure if it's ok if we only do it in the missionary position? everything else feels too kinky for me", just like he always does, but the new girl ISN'T interested in fucking him at ALL.
She's an undercover reporter for Alex Jones' Infowars network. she wants info for their war on the official msm narrative about the shooting.
So he tells her that he's willing to testify the real story in court.
But time is running out. Fights are escalating in the prison, and it looks like they may soon turn into a full blown riot.
But then, once the undercover reporter leaves, some secret agents show up and introduce themselves to michael cera as Agent Zog (male) and Agent Henderson (female).
Agent Zog: "we can offer you protection. and in exchange, not only will you not testify, you'll give a new detailed confession with new motives added from this list so that the media can demonize people on the outside who have the same goals as your stated goals.
Agent Zog hands Cera the list.
Agent Zog: "just remember, if you refuse to cooperate, we can just have you eliminated.
michael cera: "wait.. so you guys really were behind the shooting?!
but just as they're talking the riot erupts into a full-on jail break.
while agent zog is distracted by this, michael cera grabs his gun from him and shoots him to death.
michael cera: "framing someone for murder ISN'T NICE!"
michael cera looks around for an escape. but agent henderson just saw him commit a brutally violent act...
agent henderson: "oh michael..." <3 <3 <3
henderson starts stripping off her clothes and chasing down michael cera.
michael cera: "aw geez, what the heck?"
agent henderson (buck naked): "take me now! i want your seed inside me!"
michael cera: "i don't have time for this!"
michael cera tries to keep moving, but agent henderson climbs on to him and ravages him.
michael cera: "ugh! FINE!"
meanwhile, in a helicopter above...
sniper: "wow. he's plowin' henderson."
agent 3: "nice"
agent 4: "yeah, not bad"
sniper: "tell me about it!"
...
agent 3: "you can take the shot now."
sniper takes the shot. michael cera's head explodes.
agent 3 (looking over to agent 4): "and uh, have someone send a car to pick up henderson, i guess."
agent 4: "roger, that's a wrap."
Directed by Stephen Speilberg.

hey it’s your daddy keeho and i want you to type very slowly right now since your arms hurt so badly. i don’t know what has made your arms so sore but the more that you write the better that it feels so i feel like you are exercising your arm muscles or something like that. you have lunch in an hour and 15 minutes so that gives us plenty of time to write together before your next chore. i want you to put your clothes away and do the dishes after you come back from lunch. you want to take a shower right now? but we are writing right now. i guess it’s ok. go take a shower. i’ll wait. great. you are back! how was that nice shower? you did so good sweetheart. you are feeling nice and refreshed. i love you so much and you are ready to write right now, i can feel it. you are going to do such a good job today! you are the best girl ever and i love you so much. you told your pen pal that you are losing the passion for writing and hopefully he can help you out with it too because he is full of good advice. that’s why i like him so much and approve of you talking to him so much. you are so discouraged from writing right now that i don’t know what to do. also your glasses keep falling off of your face and it’s very annoying. but that’s just because your face is still wet. i love you so much and i am so proud of you today for pushing yourself forwards. if we have to only write for 500 words then i won’t get mad at you i promise. i don’t know what this decline in with your writing is but we are going to figure it out and get you through it. i know how difficult having writers block can be and it sucks when your arms are too sore to write. your vape is still charged up so that is good so that you have something to do while you are writing. that is why i am so worried about you running out of vape juice, because your weed pen got clogged and you don’t know how to unclog it. that really sucks because it was so expensive and there is still so much product in it but maybe it just looks that way and theres really nothing left in it? i’m not sure what happened to it. you can’t take it to the cannabis store because that would be embarrassing. but i know that you are probably going to try to do that. they are opened right now so why don’t you just go? i love you!

These are some headcanons I have about the Hashira. spoilers for manga through the end, character death, and canon marriages. Things in square brackets are stuff I read elsewhere and is canon IIRC, but everything else is just headcanon
Sanemi

• very good at telling hours left until sunrise from the moon and stars. It was essential knowledge during his days as a rogue demon slayer
• His trainers frequently scolded him for going ‘marechi mode’ while fighting and tried to get him to rely on his blood less
• [The breathing forms were preserved as dances] Was onboard with the plan to pass on breathing forms as dances, but still bristled when people described what he did as dancing
• Proficient at unarmed fighting when his opponents are human
• Did a lot of traveling with the remainder of his life, to actually spend time enjoying all the places he had gone for work

Giyuu

• asked Kiriya to arrange a marriage for him after the final battle. Kiriya is the closest thing he has to a head of family and Giyuu is too awkward to do it himself. Kanata and Kuina were taken by the idea and offered Kiriya lot of dubiously helpful input
• Has the other two halves of his haori stitched together and stashed somewhere but doesn’t know what to do with it
• Moved into a smaller house after the final battle, but actually made this one into a home
• Kanzaburou died in his arms shortly after the final battle. Giyuu wasn’t too sad, he thanked his crow for seeing things through to the end and promised he would be ok from now on
• Has old man hobbies like bonsai and rock gardening
• Kept a Nichirin sword in serviceable condition for the rest of his life- just in case

Tengen

• He and his wives experimented with making semi functional hand prosthetics for him. They offered to bring Giyuu into the project but he declined on account of having much less arm left than Tengen
• Laid down a hard boundary early on that his wives had to settle their own disputes among themselves because of Suma and Makio’s bickering. The two of them worked things out and now most of their arguments are play fighting
• Of all his wives, worries about Hinatsuru the most because she’s very dutiful and will shoulder too many burdens without saying a thing
• His understanding of music and musical theory is intuitive. He felt his way through learning music and doesn’t have the words to describe how he understands it
• Never told his descendants that they came from a shinobi clan. His grandchildren loved to make up wild stories about how he and his wives got all their seemingly random (read: shinobi) skills

Gyomei

• offered useful advice for Kagaya to adapt as he lost his vision. Helped Kagaya and his family figure out what he would, and equally important, wouldn’t need help with as a blind person
• [Gyomei went blind as a child due to illness] Sometimes compares notes with Kagaya on their experiences with going blind
• Has never adopted a cat, but many cats have adopted him
• Sometimes while he’s meditating, he’s still for so long wild animals become used to his presence and will come close enough to touch. Gyomei never does touch, but he is aware of their presence
• Genya asked him not to meddle, but Gyomei did try one time to ask Sanemi about their relationship. He didn’t make any suggestions or pass judgement, just asked questions that would make Sanemi think

Shinobu

• keeps an herb garden for her pharmacology practice but isn’t much of a gardener. Aoi takes care of it when she’s away
• She made a unique butterfly hairpin for each of her tsuguko and butterfly girls

Mitsuri

• [Mitsuri keeps bees] adores fat fuzzy bumblebees and will sometimes pet the ones in her garden
• The plants in her garden were mostly curated with the bees in mind
• Dabbles in handicrafts and likes making little outfits and toys for her cats
• Indiscriminate in fawning over cute animals, including reptiles, amphibians, and fish. Even fawns over Kaburamaru sometimes. It’s yet another reason Obanai likes her
• Inadvertently ended up playing matchmaker to various people she met during her time in the corps, including fellow slayers and civilians she helped
• A known fan of sweets. Her friends and family frequently gift her any unusual or foreign treats they come across

Obanai

• Kyoujurou is the only Hashira who knows what’s under his bandages, because they were introduced shortly after Shinjuro saved him.
• Has experimented with making smoothies so he can drink his meals through a straw without taking his bandages off. Gave up because it was more trouble than it was worth
• Kaburamaru’s behavior has a few tells to his emotions. Sanemi and Mitsuri are the only ones who can read it to any degree, and Mitsuri has a few misconceptions because she doesn’t realize Obanai is in love with her.
• Kaburamaru hides in his haori sleeves while molting, and Obanai constantly has bits of molted snake skin in his clothes like other people have lint
• Instead of petting Kaburamaru, he’s soothed by the feeling of the snake slithering across his body

Kyojurou

• had a few private identity crises over being a copy and paste Rengoku flame Hashira. Considered developing his own derivative breathing style and look, hoping that might earn his fathers respect
• Wanted to move Senjuro out of the family home, but thought his father wouldn’t put up with it. Never had romantic feelings for Mitsuri but sometimes dreamed of the three of them living together and her as his platonic partner in taking care of Senjuro
• Tried to befriend Obanai once they became Hashira, never realized that Obanai saw him as a romantic rival

Muichiro

• feels more affection and loyalty for Amane specifically, compared to the other Hashira
• He’s still not clear how many children Kagaya and Amane have. Thought it was only two until he saw three in the same place at the same time. If one were to ask, he’d guess anywhere from four to eight.
• Unaware of Inosuke’s tendency to mangle people’s names. His attempts are close enough that Muichiro clocks them as the correct name
• Unless someone reminds him, will forget to eat until he’s ravenous

Bonus- Honorary Hashira
Tanjiro

• in his later teens, began to live his life under the assumption he would die by 25
• Kept up the new years Hinokami Kagura for the rest of his life. Nezuko took over after he died, until his children were old enough to do it
• He and Nezuko were familiar with many of their mothers recipes, but there were a couple they never felt like they could replicate accurately
• Tanjiro’s crow became a pet and household nuisance (affectionate) post-canon. He loved gathering and sharing gossip, and is credited as the main reason there were no secrets in their home, for better or worse

Inosuke

• wore the boar head less as he got older, to prevent wear and tear. Would play with his children while wearing it, but only once they were old enough to know to be gentle with it.
• Acorns are his favorite snack on the go and he always has a few in his pockets
• Remained resistant to wearing shirts for his whole life
• His marriage proposal to Aoi included gifting her an animal pelt

Zenitsu

• took up music after the final battle. Would sometimes practice playing with Kanata Ubuyashiki. She developed a crush on him in her teens but never told anyone.
• Proposed to Nezuko in a peach orchard where he spent a lot of time while training under Kuwajima
• Loves going to flower viewing parties. They’re his favorite type of date and he adores the sight of Nezuko against a backdrop of blooming flowers

Kanao

• Tanjiro had to teach her how to voice her disagreement. They’ve never had a proper fight, only disagreements that Tanjiro had to guide them through resolving
• Has no sense of fashion or style, so indecisive about buying clothes that Tanjiro and Nezuko pick for her
• Her garden has a lot of plants that attract butterflies. Every year they get dozens of chrysalises

Bonus bonus- Ubuyashiki siblings

• All three were somewhat anxious about the possibility Muzan’s defeat hadn’t broken the family curse. They kept constant attention on their health going into their teen years, looking for any sign of illness among any of them.
• Kuina decided to never marry. After losing her parents and sisters so young, she couldn’t bear the thought of anything keeping her from her remaining siblings. She was prepared to share Kiriya’s fate if the curse wasn’t broken. She lived to a ripe old age and was a beloved Aunt to many.
• Kiriya was emotionally comfortable dressing as a girl and liked the bright colors and patterns. He ended up preferring the physical comfort of boys kimono, the relaxed fit, and the simplicity of putting it on

Author note: The Cryopod to Hell is a Reddit-exclusive story with over three years of editing and refining. As of this post, the total rewrite is 2,197,000+ words long! For more information, check out the link below:
What is the Cryopod to Hell?
Join the Cryoverse Discord server!
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...................................
(Previous Part)
(Part 001)
A few days pass. Unbeknownst to humanity, Unarin decisively dispatches some of his 5th and 6th Level Psions to assist Diablo's goals of planetary conquest. At the same time, he also adds in more than a hundred thousand High Technopath Warriors, frontline combatants outfitted with lethal weaponry embedded into every inch of their bodies. These warriors, unlike mindless automatons, fight with biological intuition and the power of technological supremacy. When the Volgrim combine their forces with that of the demons, they multiply Diablo's planetary capture speed severalfold, allowing him to take new worlds in just a few hours, sometimes even only a single hour.
But humanity doesn't know about this, aside from the Wordsmiths using their special spying methods. Rather, they remain fully focused on the planetary migration efforts.
All across Tarus II, more and more humans, demons, and monsters make key decisions about whether they will immigrate or whether they will remain on Tarus II.
Kiari and Saul pause outside the Northern Immigration Center.
"Nah. None of these." Saul says to his fiance. "I like our cabin just fine. It's in a good spot. It's secluded. And most of the demons and monsters are staying on Tarus II anyway, right?"
Kiari rubs her belly. Already, she's begun to develop the tiniest baby bump.
"Yeah. I don't wanna go anywhere, either. Oh, hey, Beelzebub!"
Kiari waves cheerfully to a certain Demon Emperor nearby. Beelzebub casually walks over and waves back.
"You two moving?" Beelzebub asks, sticking his hands in the pockets of his slacks.
"We decided against that." Saul answers. "How about you?"
"I'm staying. Obviously." Beelzebub says with a shrug. "Where else am I gonna go? Pixiv, with the fairies? They only want humans. Maiura? That's not an option. One of those 'secret' places Jason's been yammering about? Humans and monsters only."
"You could live on Hell Harbor. Or Sharmur!" Kiari chirps cutely with her eyes turning upward into crescent moons. "I hear Diablo's had a few Dukes reconstructing Hell Harbor after the Archangel attack."
Beelzebub waves his hand in a flippant manner. "Pass. I'm good with staying here. Besides, whenever I leave Tarus II, I always feel a bit... weaker. It's as if I'm more powerful when I'm here, but I can't deduce why for the life of me."
He taps his chin thoughtfully. "Could just be my imagination. Who knows."
"Well, I'm glad you're sticking around!" Kiari says. "You've had it rough, and you've done bad things, but I feel you're a good guy at heart."
"It's nice someone believes in me." Beelzebub says with a smile. "If anyone comes to cause trouble here, I'll kick 'em out of the star system myself."
"That's the spirit!" Saul laughs.
...
Meanwhile, at the Western Immigration Center, other people also congregate together, pondering where they belong.
"Daddy!" Lily Brown exclaims, stomping her feet. "I don't WANNA!"
"We've stayed here long enough." Benjamin Brown says, gently squeezing his daughter's arm. "Tarus II is in a precarious situation. I don't feel this place is safe. We have to return to Hell Harbor now that the Slithering Spire is finished with its reconstruction efforts."
"You can go if you want." Lily says, crossing her arms and turning away from her father defiantly. "I heard Beli is staying here. That means I am too! Besides, I've made lots of friends with the humans. I don't want to go back to Hell Harbor."
"What you want is not up for debate here, young lady." Benjamin Brown says, his face darkening. "I am your father. You will do as I say."
"No, I won't!" Lily shoots back. "I'm already twenty-four years old, daddy! I'm an adult. I can make my own decisions! Or are you really going to treat me like a little girl for the rest of my life?!"
"That's not what I mean, and you know it!" Benjamin barks back. "Dammit, this is for your own good. Stop chasing that succubus and use your head for once! The First Wordsmith is too lackadaisical to lead this planet to any long-lasting good times. You can't trust his judgment."
"Who said anything about the stupid Wordsmith??" Lily asks, bewildered. "I don't care about him. I've never even met him! I only care about Beli and my friends. No matter what you say, I'm staying here. And that's FINAL."
"You... you!" Benjamin roars. "You're just like your mother!"
"What? Strong and independent?" Lily scoffs. "Don't be mad because she left you, daddy. I'm making my own choices. If you try to force me back to Hell Harbor, I'll just sneak away. And if you lock me in a dungeon, you'll be proving what a piece of work you are!"
"I... I don't even know what to say." Benjamin Brown says, dismayed. "Fine. Alright? You want to pull the mother card, be like that. You can stay here. I need to return to Hell Harbor, though. I have too many things that require my attention."
He pauses. He looks around for a moment, frowning.
"You know, Lily. If... if you're not near me, I can't protect you."
"Protect me? Why would I need your protection?" Lily scoffs. "I'm a nobody. There ain't no demons gunning for me."
"That isn't entirely true..." Benjamin mutters, as his thoughts turn to a certain prison warden. "Look, I had a friend make you this necklace. It has a special savior beacon built into it. If you ever need me, activate it. Daddy will come running, no matter where you are in the galaxy. It has trans-dimensional properties so even if you're 90,000 lightyears away, I should be able to track you down."
Lily crinkles her nose. "Be honest. This is just your way of keeping tabs on me, isn't it?"
Benjamin chuckles. "Not by any means. I want to make sure you're safe, sweetheart. Your brothers and sisters are all grown up, off doing their own thing. You're... the only one I have left. The others haven't spoken to me in ages."
Lily's heart softens as she notices the pained look on Benjamin's face.
"Daddy... daddy, don't cry, okay? It's not- I'll keep the necklace, okay? And I'll call you regularly, maybe even pay a visit to Hell Harbor once in a while. I'm just gonna be... living here for the moment. Staying independent!"
Benjamin sighs. "Alright, baby girl. You keep yourself safe then. Don't ever take that necklace off, alright?"
"I won't, daddy. Bye now!"
...
"Pixiv, is it?" A young man at the Southern Immigration Center asks. "Of course it would be for you, sir. I'm just surprised she's going too."
Lieutenant Samuel Baker glances at the woman standing beside him, Private Ashley Mccarthy. As one of humanity's foremost powerhouses, capable of transforming into an orc at will even without her Power Glove, she has attracted a lot of attention of late, attention she doesn't particularly enjoy.
"I'm hoping the fairies can help me." Ashley says, crossing her arms. "I don't get why I have to transform into a stupid ugly orc. I wanna be able to turn into a cute and dainty fairy, like Lieutenant Baker."
"Hey." Samuel growls at her. "I do NOT look cute and dainty. I look... masculine as hell. Man, if I could trade my crappy fairy transformation with you, I'd be HAPPY to do it."
"Well, even the Wordsmiths can't fix this problem, so I doubt the fairies can." Ashley grouches. "But I've gotta at least try! Plus, I heard there's going to be a special task force assembled when we reach the fairies. Seems they have some sort of mission that will be really beneficial for us. At least that's the word on the grapevine."
"That's what I've heard too." Samuel says. "In any case, who else is coming to Pixiv?"
"Some of the other soldiers." Ashley answers. "Especially ones who've prematurely gained transformations through the Power Glove. I hear the majority of them have signed up for a transfer to Pixiv. The Felorians, too!"
"Even them?" Samuel asks, his eyes shining with surprise. "It seems Pixiv is the destination of choice for magically-enhanced humans. Interesting."
"I hear Mister Yamir is planning to expand his restaurant enterprise to multiple worlds in one go." The young man running the sign-up line says. "He's going to build a restaurant on Sharmur, Hell Harbor, Pixiv, anywhere that will take him. It seems his food is so popular nobody wants to turn him down!"
"That minotaur has some real business acumen." Ashley says, rubbing her chin. "I heard that the goblins have been acting similarly too. They're going to all the different worlds! Seems they don't have any specific attachments to Tarus II."
"So if all these bigshots are going to other worlds, who's staying here?" Samuel asks.
"Lots of allied demons, mostly." Ashley answers. "Plenty of monsters. Not too many humans. There is Miss Hiro, but that much is expected. I heard Hans Wagner is packing up to go to Maiura, actually. His base on Tarus's moon, Kelkin, has been where he does most of his inventing stuff, but it's a pretty inconvenient location. He wants to put his boots on normal planet ground for once."
"General Chadwick is going with Commander Neil to Maiura." The young male recruiter adds. "Oh! And have you heard of the Cybernites? Seems they've been busy helping work on some big tech project alongside Neil's inventors, including Hans Wagner."
"Dang." Samuel mutters. "We're really all splitting up, huh? Everyone's going to different places."
"It's better this way." Ashley says. "Trying to get all these different people to work together was like herding cats. Personally I'm looking forward to seeing how everything shakes out in the end."
"You know what?" Samuel asks. "Me too, Ashley. Me too."
...
Near the Eastern side of the Fortress of Retribution's upper plateau.
At the edge of the city, a notable structure stands tall, a magical privacy field of immense power surrounding it to isolate all the goings-on inside. This building happens to be none other than the Archangel's church, a place where Uriel lives following her bodily transformation back into her original self. Despite still technically possessing the body of a Demon Duke, she now seems identical to her physical form from more than 100,000 years prior to her death during the War in Heaven.
Inside the church, a male human and a pair of female angels stand opposite the four Archangels. Siddhartha Gautama, Cassiel, and Soleil all look at Raphael, Michael, Gabriel, and Uriel with differing expressions.
"I don't understand." Cassiel says softly. "Why would you want to leave, Raphael?"
The Archangel of Wisdom shakes his head. He looks at the floor with a complicated expression.
"Verily, this decision was not one I wished to make." Raphael says, his words slow and deliberate. "My alliance with the First Wordsmith hath grown tenuous over many a recent day, but not in any recent weeks hath he deigned to speak to me. Meanwhile, my relationship with the Second Wordsmith art still somewhat warm."
"There is no point in our remaining on Tarus II." Michael explains. "We do not wish to reside upon a world primarily populated by monsters and bloodskins. The majority of humanity hath opted to travel to Maiura, and so too shall we go with them."
Gabriel nods. "Humans art our allies. Why stay? Better to migrate where the humans have gone."
Soleil frowns. "That might be true, I suppose. But us having to depart all of a sudden still feels quite abrupt."
"Do not misunderstand." Raphael quickly says. "Cassiel, thou art still the Daughter of Heaven. Thou needeth not walk in our footsteps. T'would be best if Soleil and thee remaineth here while my siblings and I go to Maiura. In this way, we can spread the word of the Creator in two locations at once."
"Oh. I see..." Cassiel says, lowering her eyes. A look of sadness fills her gaze, as well as more than a hint of loneliness. "I... I don't know if I'm strong enough to stay here all by myself."
"Now now," Buddha interjects, "you will not be alone, little one. I'll stay with you, as will Soleil. Additionally, you seem to have made a new acquaintance in that Belial, yes? Perhaps this would be a good time to spread your wings and meet new people."
"Buddha's right!" Soleil says excitedly. "Cass, this is a great chance for you to make lots of new friends!!"
"New friends..." Cassiel says hesitantly. "Y-yes. I suppose... that would be... nice."
Uriel and her brothers exchange a knowing glance. She turns and walks over to Cassiel, squeezing her shoulder lovingly.
"We shalt leave this church to thee, little one. Do with it whatever thou dost desire. It shalt be thy home, and perhaps a meeting place for those who wish to bear witness to thy future rise."
Michael also takes a step forward. "Daughter of Heaven. I consider thyself a sister in spirit, if not in blood. Therefore, what I am about to say, I hope thou doth understand I speak it with only the best of intentions."
He pauses.
"Thou requireth power. Spiritual power. Faith energy. We Archangels cans't truly live well on the energy supplied by that hateful bloodskin, Barbatos, but thy vessel is not the same as ours. As a Lazarite, thou requireth Faith Energy to keep thy spirit burning. I hope thou shalt pursue it in the hopes of elevating thyself to a level where none can oppress thee."
"Thou art the last living hope of our species." Gabriel adds. "We Archangels live on as mere sparks of light, but thou art a burning star with unlimited potential. Please live well in our absence."
Cassiel looks at each of the Archangels in kind. She nods at each one of them, etching their loving words on her heart.
"Very well. Faith Energy. I'll do what I can, brothers, sister. Perhaps, if I have a chance, I'll even come to visit you all on Maiura sometime."
"That would indeed be delightful." Raphael says with a jovial chuckle. "Fare thee well then, little one. We shalt take our leave."
With a nod from each of the four Archangels, they merge back into Uriel's body, and she strides out the church doors, leaving Buddha, Cassiel, and Soleil behind.
As Buddha watches Uriel depart, he narrows his eyes menacingly, but neither of the women notices this subtle action.
Raphael...
...................................
"Everyone. Thank you for coming today." Hope Hiro says, as he stands before a throng of people all gathered together inside a massive church-like building. This facility, erected on the planet of Maiura a good distance away from the main cities and towns, stands alone, isolated within the wilderness. Dense trees and foliage would even be visible through the windows if they weren't made of stained glass, depicting images of numerous ancient Heroes of myth.
The people standing before Hope nod in unison. They say nothing, instead waiting for Hope to continue his speech.
Among these people is Henry Cliff. He looks at Hope with reverence and respect that even borders on unbridled idol worship. In his eyes, Hope Hiro is his savior, his one path back to greatness, a chance he cannot afford to miss.
Without Hope, he is nobody. A civilian who will only ever live in the shadow of better men.
"As of today," Hope continues, "the tallies are in. This is it. Those of you who have signed on to be a part of my Parahuman Corps are the only ones who leaped to such a decision. I am truly grateful for your faith in me."
Hope pauses. His gaze sweeps across not only Henry, but all the people present.
"Before I continue, is it just my imagination or are a good number of you not actually service-members? I seem to be seeing quite a few civilians present."
One man in the front row nods nervously. "Y-yes, Commander Hiro, sir. I'm Mikael. I didn't join the military originally, but when I heard about your Parahuman Corps, it really struck a cord with me. If I can become strong enough to protect myself from demons, that would be amazing!"
Hope frowns. "Your motives aren't exactly pure, Mikael. The power I'm about to bestow upon all of you will indeed strengthen your bodies, but without a foundation of military training, do you truly think you'll be able to accomplish much? Not a chance. Expect to endure some grueling military drills tailored to your enhanced physique before I set you loose in the world of ordinary humans."
He returns his eyes to the others. "That goes for all of you. Yes, you will be able to obtain great strength in the easiest manner possible. But allow me to disabuse you all of the notion that this pathway to easy power will make you as strong as a Demon Emperor, or a Duke, or even a Baron. If you have no combat techniques, then you're just a big strong infant waiting to be executed by any remotely competent opponent! A complete pushover!"
The Wordsmith doesn't mince his words. "Submitting to Jepthath's power is a serious rite of passage. If your hearts are impure, he will reject you! You will have to head out and join the common folks on Maiura, hanging your head in shame and knowing you weren't good enough to join the elites!"
He looks around one last time. "With all that said, are any of you here having second thoughts?!"
"Sir, no sir!" The crowd roars, their collective voices momentarily making Hope's ears ring. He mutters a quick Word of Power under his breath to fix that issue, then he motions with his hand and immediately summons the Dominion Rod into his grasp.
"Here is how this is going to work." Hope says. "I shall manifest the image of Jepthath into reality. Look up to him. Pray to him. Accept him in your heart. When you hear his words in your mind, you will have the option to accept or deny his offer. Those who accept will become Jepthath's Chosen, the Illuminators of the future, Parahumans who tower above their fellow man! But as for those who are unworthy? You will remain with the common rabble."
Seeing decisive looks on everyone's faces, Hope smiles. "Alright then. Let us begin."
He holds up the Shepherd's Staff, and the gem in the center of its upper crook immediately begins to glow a bright white. At that moment, a phantasmal figure materializes in the air, his massive image towering thirty feet high. The top of his head seemingly scrapes the ceiling of the makeshift church, making everyone present gasp in amazement.
"My children." Jepthath says, holding out his hands in a welcoming gesture. He smiles like a kind old grandfather at them. "Hear me now. I am the First Hero. I am the Illuminator. I light the path for those to follow. To those who are attuned to my strength, greater benefits will be available. Perhaps, among you, there may even be a special soul possessing the highest affinity to my power. If so, he may be capable of mimicking my full power without reservation! But, doubtless, there will be those among you lacking in affinity entirely."
He sighs. "That is unfortunate, but it is how things are. Now, pray to me. Reach out with your heart, mind, and soul. Feel the touch of my Light..."
A warm aura spreads out of Jepthath's towering form. It washes across the massed crowd, making many of them feel snug and cozy. They close their eyes and pray earnestly to the Illuminator, sometimes opening their eyes to look up at him as they feel Jepthath's power surge into their bodies.
"I feel it!" One woman cries out. "The strength! The power! Uwaaaa!!"
Her muscles bulge dramatically. Her shirt rips in several places, and her height increases by half a foot. She roars mightily to the heavens as a large fraction of Jepthath's power enters her body and Mind Realm.
"I feel it too!" Another man cries. "Power! Overwhelming! Aaaaahh!!"
He, and many others like him, roar in ecstasy as Jepthath's power begins rapidly bolstering one person after another.
Strangely, Henry Cliff doesn't feel anything at first. But when the power starts to trickle into his bloodstream, a voice speaks in his head.
[There you are, boy. Lord Henry of the Illuminators. I have been expecting you for a while, young one.]
Henry blinks. The world around him slows to a stop as he looks up at Jepthath in shock.
[You... know my name?] Henry asks.
[Indeed I do.] Jepthath says with a smile. [Not long ago, Hope performed a ritual that allowed me to make initial contact with all of humanity. However, my power could not flow through them until they agreed to this ritual. It was then that I felt your strength for the first time. You are more formidable than you believe, my child.]
Henry looks down in shame. [You must be thinking of someone else, Great Illuminator. I am nothing at all. A mere nobody. A sinner.]
[You call yourself a sinner? Silly child. I am friends with the Greatest Sinner.] Jepthath chides gently. [King Arthur committed a crime far worse than you could imagine, yet he is still remembered as a legend. In the future, so too shall you join him among humanity's greats.]
Henry looks up again. [I... will?]
[Your compatibility with my power... is perfect.] Jepthath answers, visibly satisfied. [Look! Your body has not swelled up at all! Unlike the others who balloon in strength because their souls are impure, your willpower is formidable enough to reject the corruption of my nascent soul. It is for this reason that I have decided to name you... My Champion.]
Boom!
A massive detonation of energy explodes inside Henry's body. He staggers in surprise, as instead of great pain, waves of ecstasy flood his vessel. He can't help but release a moan of pleasure as his mind seemingly unlocks its full potential, his muscles pulsate with a strength greater than he ever could have imagined, and his soul condenses into its purest form.
[Power!] Henry exclaims. [I feel it! I feel... so much power!]
"Uaaaaahh!!" Henry roars as he tilts his head up to the ceiling. "I am a mortal no more! I am your champion, Jepthath!"
Hope's eyes sparkle as he looks at the previously ordinary-seeming young man. He looks up at Jepthath, who smiles back at him, answering his unspoken question with a single gaze.
But suddenly, in the midst of this joyous occasion, Jepthath's image changes color from a loving and calm blue to a dangerous shade of red. His eyes narrow as he snaps his gaze around the room.
"WHERE?!" Jepthath roars, his piercing eyes jumping from one human to another. "YOU! It's YOU!!" Jepthath snarls, stabbing a finger toward a random woman in the crowd.
That woman freezes in place, like a deer in the headlights. Hope looks at her. All the other humans do too, everyone turning in unison as they feel a deep, nauseating rejection from her entirety.
"Human... she's not HUMAN!" Henry growls, balling his hands into fists. "She's not one of us! She's a CHANGELING!!"
Panicked, the woman starts to push through the crowd, but in an instant, tens of hands latch onto her from every angle, grabbing her arms, shirt, hair, and neck. They pin her in place while Henry walks through the crowd with eyes full of bloodlust. He grins wickedly and nods his head as he stomps toward the woman.
"Trying to sell us out, you filthy infiltrator?! TOO BAD! This is where your story ends!!"
In an instant, he lunges forward and punches his fist at the woman's stomach.
SPLURT!!
He rams his arm through her gut and blasts her entrails backward, spraying off-colored blood on the Parahumans behind her. The woman's mouth opens reflexively, and she vomits blood, unable to stop herself.
"N-no! Guhuk! Mis-misunderstanding! We- COUGH!!"
"Spare us your pitiful begging." Henry sneers, before sweeping his arm upward, tearing through her body with ease.
RIIIIIP!
A sickening series of snapping bones sounds off in the room like a series of firecrackers. A second later, the woman sags lifelessly in the grasp of those present. They release her, and allow her to collapse into a puddle of blood at her feet.
Just when it seems the madness is over, Henry slowly turns around to look at another person in the crowd behind him.
"Heh heh heh. You stupid bastard. Did you think I missed you, too?"
"Wait!" The man screams. "This isn't what you think! We're just supposed to observe-"
He doesn't get to finish his sentence. Henry snaps toward him, rears his fist back, and sends it flying at the Changeling's head. So unfathomable is his strength that he blasts apart the man's head like a watermelon, showering the people behind him with bits of blood, bone, and brain matter.
Hope watches, silently, as Henry performs these acts. He nods with approval, even directing a small smile Henry's way.
"Hardcore, Henry."
Before the ceremony fully comes to an end, Henry kills another three Changelings, ensuring that not a single one manages to make it out alive and report news of what happened to the Founders.
It will be some time before they come to realize the significance of the events that transpired on this day...

A few days pass. Unbeknownst to humanity, Unarin decisively dispatches some of his 5th and 6th Level Psions to assist Diablo's goals of planetary conquest. At the same time, he also adds in more than a hundred thousand High Technopath Warriors, frontline combatants outfitted with lethal weaponry embedded into every inch of their bodies. These warriors, unlike mindless automatons, fight with biological intuition and the power of technological supremacy. When the Volgrim combine their forces with that of the demons, they multiply Diablo's planetary capture speed severalfold, allowing him to take new worlds in just a few hours, sometimes even only a single hour.
But humanity doesn't know about this, aside from the Wordsmiths using their special spying methods. Rather, they remain fully focused on the planetary migration efforts.
All across Tarus II, more and more humans, demons, and monsters make key decisions about whether they will immigrate or whether they will remain on Tarus II.
Kiari and Saul pause outside the Northern Immigration Center.
"Nah. None of these." Saul says to his fiance. "I like our cabin just fine. It's in a good spot. It's secluded. And most of the demons and monsters are staying on Tarus II anyway, right?"
Kiari rubs her belly. Already, she's begun to develop the tiniest baby bump.
"Yeah. I don't wanna go anywhere, either. Oh, hey, Beelzebub!"
Kiari waves cheerfully to a certain Demon Emperor nearby. Beelzebub casually walks over and waves back.
"You two moving?" Beelzebub asks, sticking his hands in the pockets of his slacks.
"We decided against that." Saul answers. "How about you?"
"I'm staying. Obviously." Beelzebub says with a shrug. "Where else am I gonna go? Pixiv, with the fairies? They only want humans. Maiura? That's not an option. One of those 'secret' places Jason's been yammering about? Humans and monsters only."
"You could live on Hell Harbor. Or Sharmur!" Kiari chirps cutely with her eyes turning upward into crescent moons. "I hear Diablo's had a few Dukes reconstructing Hell Harbor after the Archangel attack."
Beelzebub waves his hand in a flippant manner. "Pass. I'm good with staying here. Besides, whenever I leave Tarus II, I always feel a bit... weaker. It's as if I'm more powerful when I'm here, but I can't deduce why for the life of me."
He taps his chin thoughtfully. "Could just be my imagination. Who knows."
"Well, I'm glad you're sticking around!" Kiari says. "You've had it rough, and you've done bad things, but I feel you're a good guy at heart."
"It's nice someone believes in me." Beelzebub says with a smile. "If anyone comes to cause trouble here, I'll kick 'em out of the star system myself."
"That's the spirit!" Saul laughs.
...
Meanwhile, at the Western Immigration Center, other people also congregate together, pondering where they belong.
"Daddy!" Lily Brown exclaims, stomping her feet. "I don't WANNA!"
"We've stayed here long enough." Benjamin Brown says, gently squeezing his daughter's arm. "Tarus II is in a precarious situation. I don't feel this place is safe. We have to return to Hell Harbor now that the Slithering Spire is finished with its reconstruction efforts."
"You can go if you want." Lily says, crossing her arms and turning away from her father defiantly. "I heard Beli is staying here. That means I am too! Besides, I've made lots of friends with the humans. I don't want to go back to Hell Harbor."
"What you want is not up for debate here, young lady." Benjamin Brown says, his face darkening. "I am your father. You will do as I say."
"No, I won't!" Lily shoots back. "I'm already twenty-four years old, daddy! I'm an adult. I can make my own decisions! Or are you really going to treat me like a little girl for the rest of my life?!"
"That's not what I mean, and you know it!" Benjamin barks back. "Dammit, this is for your own good. Stop chasing that succubus and use your head for once! The First Wordsmith is too lackadaisical to lead this planet to any long-lasting good times. You can't trust his judgment."
"Who said anything about the stupid Wordsmith??" Lily asks, bewildered. "I don't care about him. I've never even met him! I only care about Beli and my friends. No matter what you say, I'm staying here. And that's FINAL."
"You... you!" Benjamin roars. "You're just like your mother!"
"What? Strong and independent?" Lily scoffs. "Don't be mad because she left you, daddy. I'm making my own choices. If you try to force me back to Hell Harbor, I'll just sneak away. And if you lock me in a dungeon, you'll be proving what a piece of work you are!"
"I... I don't even know what to say." Benjamin Brown says, dismayed. "Fine. Alright? You want to pull the mother card, be like that. You can stay here. I need to return to Hell Harbor, though. I have too many things that require my attention."
He pauses. He looks around for a moment, frowning.
"You know, Lily. If... if you're not near me, I can't protect you."
"Protect me? Why would I need your protection?" Lily scoffs. "I'm a nobody. There ain't no demons gunning for me."
"That isn't entirely true..." Benjamin mutters, as his thoughts turn to a certain prison warden. "Look, I had a friend make you this necklace. It has a special savior beacon built into it. If you ever need me, activate it. Daddy will come running, no matter where you are in the galaxy. It has trans-dimensional properties so even if you're 90,000 lightyears away, I should be able to track you down."
Lily crinkles her nose. "Be honest. This is just your way of keeping tabs on me, isn't it?"
Benjamin chuckles. "Not by any means. I want to make sure you're safe, sweetheart. Your brothers and sisters are all grown up, off doing their own thing. You're... the only one I have left. The others haven't spoken to me in ages."
Lily's heart softens as she notices the pained look on Benjamin's face.
"Daddy... daddy, don't cry, okay? It's not- I'll keep the necklace, okay? And I'll call you regularly, maybe even pay a visit to Hell Harbor once in a while. I'm just gonna be... living here for the moment. Staying independent!"
Benjamin sighs. "Alright, baby girl. You keep yourself safe then. Don't ever take that necklace off, alright?"
"I won't, daddy. Bye now!"
...
"Pixiv, is it?" A young man at the Southern Immigration Center asks. "Of course it would be for you, sir. I'm just surprised she's going too."
Lieutenant Samuel Baker glances at the woman standing beside him, Private Ashley Mccarthy. As one of humanity's foremost powerhouses, capable of transforming into an orc at will even without her Power Glove, she has attracted a lot of attention of late, attention she doesn't particularly enjoy.
"I'm hoping the fairies can help me." Ashley says, crossing her arms. "I don't get why I have to transform into a stupid ugly orc. I wanna be able to turn into a cute and dainty fairy, like Lieutenant Baker."
"Hey." Samuel growls at her. "I do NOT look cute and dainty. I look... masculine as hell. Man, if I could trade my crappy fairy transformation with you, I'd be HAPPY to do it."
"Well, even the Wordsmiths can't fix this problem, so I doubt the fairies can." Ashley grouches. "But I've gotta at least try! Plus, I heard there's going to be a special task force assembled when we reach the fairies. Seems they have some sort of mission that will be really beneficial for us. At least that's the word on the grapevine."
"That's what I've heard too." Samuel says. "In any case, who else is coming to Pixiv?"
"Some of the other soldiers." Ashley answers. "Especially ones who've prematurely gained transformations through the Power Glove. I hear the majority of them have signed up for a transfer to Pixiv. The Felorians, too!"
"Even them?" Samuel asks, his eyes shining with surprise. "It seems Pixiv is the destination of choice for magically-enhanced humans. Interesting."
"I hear Mister Yamir is planning to expand his restaurant enterprise to multiple worlds in one go." The young man running the sign-up line says. "He's going to build a restaurant on Sharmur, Hell Harbor, Pixiv, anywhere that will take him. It seems his food is so popular nobody wants to turn him down!"
"That minotaur has some real business acumen." Ashley says, rubbing her chin. "I heard that the goblins have been acting similarly too. They're going to all the different worlds! Seems they don't have any specific attachments to Tarus II."
"So if all these bigshots are going to other worlds, who's staying here?" Samuel asks.
"Lots of allied demons, mostly." Ashley answers. "Plenty of monsters. Not too many humans. There is Miss Hiro, but that much is expected. I heard Hans Wagner is packing up to go to Maiura, actually. His base on Tarus's moon, Kelkin, has been where he does most of his inventing stuff, but it's a pretty inconvenient location. He wants to put his boots on normal planet ground for once."
"General Chadwick is going with Commander Neil to Maiura." The young male recruiter adds. "Oh! And have you heard of the Cybernites? Seems they've been busy helping work on some big tech project alongside Neil's inventors, including Hans Wagner."
"Dang." Samuel mutters. "We're really all splitting up, huh? Everyone's going to different places."
"It's better this way." Ashley says. "Trying to get all these different people to work together was like herding cats. Personally I'm looking forward to seeing how everything shakes out in the end."
"You know what?" Samuel asks. "Me too, Ashley. Me too."
...
Near the Eastern side of the Fortress of Retribution's upper plateau.
At the edge of the city, a notable structure stands tall, a magical privacy field of immense power surrounding it to isolate all the goings-on inside. This building happens to be none other than the Archangel's church, a place where Uriel lives following her bodily transformation back into her original self. Despite still technically possessing the body of a Demon Duke, she now seems identical to her physical form from more than 100,000 years prior to her death during the War in Heaven.
Inside the church, a male human and a pair of female angels stand opposite the four Archangels. Siddhartha Gautama, Cassiel, and Soleil all look at Raphael, Michael, Gabriel, and Uriel with differing expressions.
"I don't understand." Cassiel says softly. "Why would you want to leave, Raphael?"
The Archangel of Wisdom shakes his head. He looks at the floor with a complicated expression.
"Verily, this decision was not one I wished to make." Raphael says, his words slow and deliberate. "My alliance with the First Wordsmith hath grown tenuous over many a recent day, but not in any recent weeks hath he deigned to speak to me. Meanwhile, my relationship with the Second Wordsmith art still somewhat warm."
"There is no point in our remaining on Tarus II." Michael explains. "We do not wish to reside upon a world primarily populated by monsters and bloodskins. The majority of humanity hath opted to travel to Maiura, and so too shall we go with them."
Gabriel nods. "Humans art our allies. Why stay? Better to migrate where the humans have gone."
Soleil frowns. "That might be true, I suppose. But us having to depart all of a sudden still feels quite abrupt."
"Do not misunderstand." Raphael quickly says. "Cassiel, thou art still the Daughter of Heaven. Thou needeth not walk in our footsteps. T'would be best if Soleil and thee remaineth here while my siblings and I go to Maiura. In this way, we can spread the word of the Creator in two locations at once."
"Oh. I see..." Cassiel says, lowering her eyes. A look of sadness fills her gaze, as well as more than a hint of loneliness. "I... I don't know if I'm strong enough to stay here all by myself."
"Now now," Buddha interjects, "you will not be alone, little one. I'll stay with you, as will Soleil. Additionally, you seem to have made a new acquaintance in that Belial, yes? Perhaps this would be a good time to spread your wings and meet new people."
"Buddha's right!" Soleil says excitedly. "Cass, this is a great chance for you to make lots of new friends!!"
"New friends..." Cassiel says hesitantly. "Y-yes. I suppose... that would be... nice."
Uriel and her brothers exchange a knowing glance. She turns and walks over to Cassiel, squeezing her shoulder lovingly.
"We shalt leave this church to thee, little one. Do with it whatever thou dost desire. It shalt be thy home, and perhaps a meeting place for those who wish to bear witness to thy future rise."
Michael also takes a step forward. "Daughter of Heaven. I consider thyself a sister in spirit, if not in blood. Therefore, what I am about to say, I hope thou doth understand I speak it with only the best of intentions."
He pauses.
"Thou requireth power. Spiritual power. Faith energy. We Archangels cans't truly live well on the energy supplied by that hateful bloodskin, Barbatos, but thy vessel is not the same as ours. As a Lazarite, thou requireth Faith Energy to keep thy spirit burning. I hope thou shalt pursue it in the hopes of elevating thyself to a level where none can oppress thee."
"Thou art the last living hope of our species." Gabriel adds. "We Archangels live on as mere sparks of light, but thou art a burning star with unlimited potential. Please live well in our absence."
Cassiel looks at each of the Archangels in kind. She nods at each one of them, etching their loving words on her heart.
"Very well. Faith Energy. I'll do what I can, brothers, sister. Perhaps, if I have a chance, I'll even come to visit you all on Maiura sometime."
"That would indeed be delightful." Raphael says with a jovial chuckle. "Fare thee well then, little one. We shalt take our leave."
With a nod from each of the four Archangels, they merge back into Uriel's body, and she strides out the church doors, leaving Buddha, Cassiel, and Soleil behind.
As Buddha watches Uriel depart, he narrows his eyes menacingly, but neither of the women notices this subtle action.
Raphael...
...................................
"Everyone. Thank you for coming today." Hope Hiro says, as he stands before a throng of people all gathered together inside a massive church-like building. This facility, erected on the planet of Maiura a good distance away from the main cities and towns, stands alone, isolated within the wilderness. Dense trees and foliage would even be visible through the windows if they weren't made of stained glass, depicting images of numerous ancient Heroes of myth.
The people standing before Hope nod in unison. They say nothing, instead waiting for Hope to continue his speech.
Among these people is Henry Cliff. He looks at Hope with reverence and respect that even borders on unbridled idol worship. In his eyes, Hope Hiro is his savior, his one path back to greatness, a chance he cannot afford to miss.
Without Hope, he is nobody. A civilian who will only ever live in the shadow of better men.
"As of today," Hope continues, "the tallies are in. This is it. Those of you who have signed on to be a part of my Parahuman Corps are the only ones who leaped to such a decision. I am truly grateful for your faith in me."
Hope pauses. His gaze sweeps across not only Henry, but all the people present.
"Before I continue, is it just my imagination or are a good number of you not actually service-members? I seem to be seeing quite a few civilians present."
One man in the front row nods nervously. "Y-yes, Commander Hiro, sir. I'm Mikael. I didn't join the military originally, but when I heard about your Parahuman Corps, it really struck a cord with me. If I can become strong enough to protect myself from demons, that would be amazing!"
Hope frowns. "Your motives aren't exactly pure, Mikael. The power I'm about to bestow upon all of you will indeed strengthen your bodies, but without a foundation of military training, do you truly think you'll be able to accomplish much? Not a chance. Expect to endure some grueling military drills tailored to your enhanced physique before I set you loose in the world of ordinary humans."
He returns his eyes to the others. "That goes for all of you. Yes, you will be able to obtain great strength in the easiest manner possible. But allow me to disabuse you all of the notion that this pathway to easy power will make you as strong as a Demon Emperor, or a Duke, or even a Baron. If you have no combat techniques, then you're just a big strong infant waiting to be executed by any remotely competent opponent! A complete pushover!"
The Wordsmith doesn't mince his words. "Submitting to Jepthath's power is a serious rite of passage. If your hearts are impure, he will reject you! You will have to head out and join the common folks on Maiura, hanging your head in shame and knowing you weren't good enough to join the elites!"
He looks around one last time. "With all that said, are any of you here having second thoughts?!"
"Sir, no sir!" The crowd roars, their collective voices momentarily making Hope's ears ring. He mutters a quick Word of Power under his breath to fix that issue, then he motions with his hand and immediately summons the Dominion Rod into his grasp.
"Here is how this is going to work." Hope says. "I shall manifest the image of Jepthath into reality. Look up to him. Pray to him. Accept him in your heart. When you hear his words in your mind, you will have the option to accept or deny his offer. Those who accept will become Jepthath's Chosen, the Illuminators of the future, Parahumans who tower above their fellow man! But as for those who are unworthy? You will remain with the common rabble."
Seeing decisive looks on everyone's faces, Hope smiles. "Alright then. Let us begin."
He holds up the Shepherd's Staff, and the gem in the center of its upper crook immediately begins to glow a bright white. At that moment, a phantasmal figure materializes in the air, his massive image towering thirty feet high. The top of his head seemingly scrapes the ceiling of the makeshift church, making everyone present gasp in amazement.
"My children." Jepthath says, holding out his hands in a welcoming gesture. He smiles like a kind old grandfather at them. "Hear me now. I am the First Hero. I am the Illuminator. I light the path for those to follow. To those who are attuned to my strength, greater benefits will be available. Perhaps, among you, there may even be a special soul possessing the highest affinity to my power. If so, he may be capable of mimicking my full power without reservation! But, doubtless, there will be those among you lacking in affinity entirely."
He sighs. "That is unfortunate, but it is how things are. Now, pray to me. Reach out with your heart, mind, and soul. Feel the touch of my Light..."
A warm aura spreads out of Jepthath's towering form. It washes across the massed crowd, making many of them feel snug and cozy. They close their eyes and pray earnestly to the Illuminator, sometimes opening their eyes to look up at him as they feel Jepthath's power surge into their bodies.
"I feel it!" One woman cries out. "The strength! The power! Uwaaaa!!"
Her muscles bulge dramatically. Her shirt rips in several places, and her height increases by half a foot. She roars mightily to the heavens as a large fraction of Jepthath's power enters her body and Mind Realm.
"I feel it too!" Another man cries. "Power! Overwhelming! Aaaaahh!!"
He, and many others like him, roar in ecstasy as Jepthath's power begins rapidly bolstering one person after another.
Strangely, Henry Cliff doesn't feel anything at first. But when the power starts to trickle into his bloodstream, a voice speaks in his head.
[There you are, boy. Lord Henry of the Illuminators. I have been expecting you for a while, young one.]
Henry blinks. The world around him slows to a stop as he looks up at Jepthath in shock.
[You... know my name?] Henry asks.
[Indeed I do.] Jepthath says with a smile. [Not long ago, Hope performed a ritual that allowed me to make initial contact with all of humanity. However, my power could not flow through them until they agreed to this ritual. It was then that I felt your strength for the first time. You are more formidable than you believe, my child.]
Henry looks down in shame. [You must be thinking of someone else, Great Illuminator. I am nothing at all. A mere nobody. A sinner.]
[You call yourself a sinner? Silly child. I am friends with the Greatest Sinner.] Jepthath chides gently. [King Arthur committed a crime far worse than you could imagine, yet he is still remembered as a legend. In the future, so too shall you join him among humanity's greats.]
Henry looks up again. [I... will?]
[Your compatibility with my power... is perfect.] Jepthath answers, visibly satisfied. [Look! Your body has not swelled up at all! Unlike the others who balloon in strength because their souls are impure, your willpower is formidable enough to reject the corruption of my nascent soul. It is for this reason that I have decided to name you... My Champion.]
Boom!
A massive detonation of energy explodes inside Henry's body. He staggers in surprise, as instead of great pain, waves of ecstasy flood his vessel. He can't help but release a moan of pleasure as his mind seemingly unlocks its full potential, his muscles pulsate with a strength greater than he ever could have imagined, and his soul condenses into its purest form.
[Power!] Henry exclaims. [I feel it! I feel... so much power!]
"Uaaaaahh!!" Henry roars as he tilts his head up to the ceiling. "I am a mortal no more! I am your champion, Jepthath!"
Hope's eyes sparkle as he looks at the previously ordinary-seeming young man. He looks up at Jepthath, who smiles back at him, answering his unspoken question with a single gaze.
But suddenly, in the midst of this joyous occasion, Jepthath's image changes color from a loving and calm blue to a dangerous shade of red. His eyes narrow as he snaps his gaze around the room.
"WHERE?!" Jepthath roars, his piercing eyes jumping from one human to another. "YOU! It's YOU!!" Jepthath snarls, stabbing a finger toward a random woman in the crowd.
That woman freezes in place, like a deer in the headlights. Hope looks at her. All the other humans do too, everyone turning in unison as they feel a deep, nauseating rejection from her entirety.
"Human... she's not HUMAN!" Henry growls, balling his hands into fists. "She's not one of us! She's a CHANGELING!!"
Panicked, the woman starts to push through the crowd, but in an instant, tens of hands latch onto her from every angle, grabbing her arms, shirt, hair, and neck. They pin her in place while Henry walks through the crowd with eyes full of bloodlust. He grins wickedly and nods his head as he stomps toward the woman.
"Trying to sell us out, you filthy infiltrator?! TOO BAD! This is where your story ends!!"
In an instant, he lunges forward and punches his fist at the woman's stomach.
SPLURT!!
He rams his arm through her gut and blasts her entrails backward, spraying off-colored blood on the Parahumans behind her. The woman's mouth opens reflexively, and she vomits blood, unable to stop herself.
"N-no! Guhuk! Mis-misunderstanding! We- COUGH!!"
"Spare us your pitiful begging." Henry sneers, before sweeping his arm upward, tearing through her body with ease.
RIIIIIP!
A sickening series of snapping bones sounds off in the room like a series of firecrackers. A second later, the woman sags lifelessly in the grasp of those present. They release her, and allow her to collapse into a puddle of blood at her feet.
Just when it seems the madness is over, Henry slowly turns around to look at another person in the crowd behind him.
"Heh heh heh. You stupid bastard. Did you think I missed you, too?"
"Wait!" The man screams. "This isn't what you think! We're just supposed to observe-"
He doesn't get to finish his sentence. Henry snaps toward him, rears his fist back, and sends it flying at the Changeling's head. So unfathomable is his strength that he blasts apart the man's head like a watermelon, showering the people behind him with bits of blood, bone, and brain matter.
Hope watches, silently, as Henry performs these acts. He nods with approval, even directing a small smile Henry's way.
"Hardcore, Henry."
Before the ceremony fully comes to an end, Henry kills another three Changelings, ensuring that not a single one manages to make it out alive and report news of what happened to the Founders.
It will be some time before they come to realize the significance of the events that transpired on this day...

I’m interviewing at a local, independent ice cream shop tomorrow and just realized I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear. I’m in college and have interviewed at high end places and places where business casual or formal definitely the desired dress code, but that seems off/too dressy for this.
For reference, I’ve been there before and the girls working are usually in a store t-shirt and leggings. I was thinking of wearing a pair of jeans with no rips, black flats, and a nicer black shirt or blouse that is not cropped or low cut.
Would love to hear advice from anyone who has interviewed and gotten the job at an ice cream shop or similar place! Thanks in advance :)

I just turned 22 this year. Don’t know how or why I’ve made it this far in life. I’ve been miserable since I was born. My dad abused me physically, emotionally my mother abused and manipulated me emotionally and spiritually. I have never known peace ever. Sexually assaulted and molested by boys in the 1st grade cousins and my mom’s ex fiancé, constantly bullied or not liked in school every year until I graduated and gained an ED in middle school causing me to gain so much weight and not knowing what to do. Then developed HS which is a skin condition when I was 13 after my body hit a high stress point and puberty so I live in pain every single day. Graduated in 2020 so I lost my prom, senior trip, so many things. Dropped out of college due to depression and truly didn’t know what to do. I have tried to kill myself now 6 times and every single time I feel more miserable and more helpless. I’m homeless haven’t eaten in I don’t know how long at this point and I’ve been in an endless cycle of this since I was 19.
My parents won’t let me back home due to religious differences and mainly because my stepdad doesn’t want me to. My dad died in 2015 when I was 13 and that has really changed so much in my life including my emotional regulation. I developed bpd and my dad was bipolar. Now I struggle with taking shit lightly or even being able to calm down in a frantic state. I’ve cut off and fucked up every relationship I had or I was just tossed out because they didn’t like me. I don’t feel worthy of living anymore because I’m 22 and have nothing to show for it.
I’m actively watching as my middle school bullies aka the girls who ruined my life, have amazing lives and opportunities. Modeling, clothing lines, and even going to great schools. I don’t have anything or anyone but the bitches who made my life a literal living hell have everything they want. There was a time when my mom was still engaged to the man who molested me, I went to school he had given me money for snacks. Well I didn’t get any and planned on stopping for some while I walked home that day. I got on the bus and sat alone as always put my headphones in played my music. Well the girls who always bothered me on the bus started acting strangely kind saying they liked my purse. It was a $5 purse from the thrift store. They asked if they could see it and my dumbass gave it to them no questions asked. Well as I was walking home I dug through my purse to get the money so I could get snacks upon realizing it wasn’t there I freaked out and cried the whole way home. He had specifically told me to bring him back whatever change. When I was in middle school all my siblings were in different schools so I was always home first. He always got off work 10 mins after I got home. I went upstairs to change and still was upset and kinda in shock from what I felt would happen. Well, he came home drunk as he always did after work and came right upstairs asking for the change. I started crying and saying don’t walk in I’m naked because I was still changing he walked in anyway I said they stole the money and this man beat me with his belt while I was naked. 12 years old. Proceed to rub me and kiss me and told me to get dressed and stand downstairs with my arms held up as a punishment. Every day of my life was even more miserable after that and those same girls are living amazing or better than me in general.
I’ve been beat up by men and boys my whole life I’m worthless and not worthy of any love. That’s why I was born. To show people what they don’t want to be. I don’t feel I was born for any other purpose than to be people emotional and physical punching bag. I have an alcohol and weed problem now. I have issues with over indulging in giving people stuff. A man owes me 1400 and hasn’t given it to me and I gave him that when I was on my last and took it out of my savings. Now I’m homeless no house no car no nothing because of him. I’ve been trying to take responsibility for my life but it’s the little things that’s broke me and led up to this. I’m aware people have been through worse which makes this 10x more pathetic. I now struggle with borderline personality disorder, manic depression, anxiety, and PTSD.I think I’ll really just go ahead and end it.

A couple days ago, I was contacted by my ex-boyfriend who I love very much still. We have lot of issues in our past that we have never been able to work through, but the love is still abundant in my heart, and I always have hope that we can figure it out. We were together on and off for four years, I left Florida to go back to my home state to be together. I have one child he has one child and I think of us all as a family. We both have issues with addiction and it has played a huge role in Why we are not together anymore. I’ve been sober and trying very hard to live more fulfilling and meaningful life. I’ve been trying to put substance abuse in my past and embrace healthier future. I thought that was something that he wanted to, but he has been drinking a lot lately and not taking very good care of himself in my opinion. Anyways contacted me kind of out of the blue. The other day said he misses me.. that meant a lot to me because I miss him so much too. I wanted the opportunity to show him how far that I’ve come and that I am a good fit for our family. we took the kids to l we took the kids to a local fair, I spent the night at his house and we had a very intimate night/morning. I felt like I was on cloud nine, as he is my favorite person no matter how many times I’ve been burned by him. I found out yesterday that he has been talking to a girl that has caused problems in our relationship before. They do family activities like go fishing and their kids are spending time together too… not only that but next weekend they’re going to a festival together, he’s paying for everything and they plan on doing a lot of drugs together I guess… in my heart ripped out of my chest again. And I’m angry because I don’t understand why he would tell me that he loves and misses me if he’s moving on. I don’t understand why he would want to move on and go in the opposite direction basically. I’ve been prioritizing my sobriety so that I can be the best mother that I can be and to see him planning a drug (and presumably sex) fueled weekend with her confused and guts me. I haven’t said anything to him about this, I don’t know what to say, and I’m scared of what he would say. I’m having trouble understanding why he wouldn’t want our family to come back together as desperately as I do… I know that our past less than perfect, but I’m still still here and I still love him. a lot of my reasons for bettering myself in hopes that he would see that I am not what I became in addiction. I have been craving validation, for him to see how much him and his son mean to me… And I don’t know how to move forward with this information. Part of me wants to be desperate and do anything that I can keep him. But deep down I know that if he really wanted us then we would be home with him. I’ve tried to explain to him how my BPD affects my views on relationships and love. And I’ve tried to not to let BPD and ridiculously over the top emotions dictate how I react to disappointment and sometimes cruel words. I feel like I’ve been doing a lot of work and it’s still not good enough but how the fuck do I actually let go? Even though I’ve been respecting his space, that doesn’t mean that I want to be apart. but obviously he does right? I need help guys… I want to be strong and advocate for myself this time but I miss my family so much… I don’t understand why I’m still not enough to make him happy.

I took a week off of work and college had started their two-week break before the next semester. I took my chance and cleared my calendar and booked a trip to the town where my grandfather stayed while he was a journalist. The greyhound ride was a good time for me to figure out my approach, while the busy cityscape outside my window slowly faded into Southern African wilderness, nothing but trees and empty kilometers of road before I reached my stop, a homely town that seemed well connected to the rest despite the distance. It had been many years since my grandfather had set foot in this town, yet I could feel his influence. The roads were now cracked and showed their wear, shops and residences had been renovated and upgraded, looking more modern and slightly out of place.
The hotel my grandfather stayed at while on the investigation was now a more comfortable looking lodge, with a view over the rolling foothills of the Drakensberg and the surrounding cities, one of which I could see my home, vaguely. The sun had begun to set and I still needed to get my information from the residents. I unpacked my things after booking my room and set out, like a tourist with a pen and notebook in hand asking anyone what they may know. To no one’s surprise, they mostly looked at me like I was insane or a knock off Leon Schuster trying to get them to react in a funny way. I had almost given up completely until I sat near one of the social areas where they would light a fire and residents at the lodge would sit and relax while watching the sun go down. I was alone there and just sat drawing the distant landscape dreading the silence for the next week while I waited for the next bus to arrive and I’d return home. Two days passed in mainly silence.
That was until a man sat near me, dressed in weathered jeans and an old top with work boots covered in dust and dirt, his face obscured by a large hat covering his face, his hands in his pockets even as he sat but his arms almost looked skeleton like, his long white hair flowing from either side of his hat.
“Can I help you?” I asked, feeling like he was trying to get my attention.
“No, but I can help you. You cause quite a lot of noise, trying to get the people to talk about something that scares them.” He said, his voice didn’t come across as harsh, more like cautious. The first person who decided to talk to me in a casual manner since a couple days ago. He wanted to tell me what I wanted to know.
Without any hesitation I turned to the page I set aside for notes when the man chuckled.
“Something funny?” I asked.
“You’re going to need more pages than that.” He said, flicking his hat up slightly while he sat back and got comfortable.
“Trust me, this is all I need.” I said feeling like I had to tiptoe around the subject as to not let the opportunity slip, but I also felt overwhelmingly anxious, almost like someone else was watching us. I felt my gaze shift every so often over my shoulder trying to find the entity that was staring a hole through me, apart from a quiet street crossing and some pedestrians; nothing.
“Something there?” Asked the man, as I shook off the feeling. I started getting a bit annoyed by the short answers and questions.
“Just feel like-, never mind. If you’re ready to help give me some information, what should I call you?” I asked as the man took a moment.
“Call me ‘Farmhand’. Since it’ll sound better than my real name, you’ll find that out in time.” Said Farmhand as I wrote that down in my notebook and began phrasing the question in my mind as to get the proper answer. Furiously tapping my pen on the page.
“Just ask, I already know what you want to know.” He said, I looked up from the page, slightly irritated by the confidence.
“How can you be so sure, Farmhand?” I blurted.
“You aren’t the first person to go on this goose chase. The Lady in White is very particular in her targets.” Farmhand explained, I wrote down everything.
“What’s her story, like the true story; why does she haunt this stretch of road?” I asked. Farmhand chuckled.
“She doesn’t haunt, she’s simply looking for a lift.” He said in the distinct Afrikaans twang that so many white South Africans have, it’s by no means ominous, more of a conversation encouragement than anything else.
“A lift? To where?” I asked. I heard so many different types of tales, from her being hostile to men, a companion to young women and a bit of both to younger males. But the main part that stayed the same was that they were alone.
“Her matric dance, my seun.” Farmhand said, the only other person to call me ‘Seun’ was my dad, the Afrikaans for son.
“What exactly happened?” I asked, pen at the ready.
“The legend goes far back, but the main story that my pa always told me was that she was with her boyfriend in the car, they went along this road and broke down; one of the worst places to break down since around eight is when the busses shut down and the last train has departed from the station. She chose to try down the street, bearing in mind how dangerous that is these days, it was a little bit less so then.” Farmhand said as he took off his hat, keeping his gaze at the setting sun.
“How much less dangerous?” I asked.
“Snakes, though the venomous Boomslang doesn’t go out of its way to kill you, no Black Mamba’s live up here. No, we have jackals and caracals, they hunt in packs and pick you off in the dead of night.” Farmhand explained.
“Is that how it happened, how she died?” Farmhand chuckled lightly.
“Nope, she saw a car in the distance and flagged them down, asked them to help take her to town or help her boyfriend. The man took her up the road and when they started to approach where she had broken down, the boyfriend tried flagging them down. Her joy turned to terror as the stranger sped up and before the boyfriend knew it, the car had hit him. The last she saw of him was him tumbling down the hill among the trees.” Farmhand said. Placing his hat on his chest, closing his eyes and bowing his head. After a short silence, I asked:
“What happened next?”
“Well, the girl was hysterical, the car was still speeding up and she yelled at the man to stop, and kept pleading for him to let her go. Eventually the man had stopped, the girl got out and started calling to the boyfriend to see if he had somehow survived, as she did, the stranger hit her on the back of her head and had his way with her.” Farmhand said, provoking a sour taste in my mouth, a sheer sense of guilt welled up in my stomach.
“Now I understand why no one was willing to tell me the story.” I said, slightly defeated. The man put a hand on my knee like my grandfather used to and looked me in the eye. For the first time I noticed his wrinkled but kind face, he smiled.
“It’s not a story everyone can stomach. Come, let’s finish this so you can write your story.” Farmhand said as he sat back on the couch, a thought struck me; was I so obvious that he knew I was a journalist writing a story? Because I don’t remember ever disclosing the fact I was a journalist. Regardless, we continued.
“After the stranger- did the act, what happened?” I asked uneasily, feeling sick to my stomach.
“He put her in his car, and drove back to the spot where they broke down, but a half a kilometer away she woke up and he pushed her out of the car at high speed. She should’ve died there, but she crawled, half her body scratched, scraped and broken. She died slowly and alone. Before she died she heard her boyfriend calling for her.” Farmhand continued.
“Did he ever find her?”
There was silence, even the birds had stopped chirping and the street had gone quiet.
“No, I don’t believe he did. Whether or not he died looking is another story, but that’s not what you’re here for.” The Farmer said as he stood up, placed his hat on his head and began to walk off, before he passed me, he put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it.
“Promise me one thing; be careful. Can you do that for me, Alex?” Farmhand said before he patted me on the shoulder and walked off without waiting for my answer. I turned to confront him but he was gone, it couldn’t have been more than a second, but it was like he vanished into thin air. I was left confused and bewildered. The notes were real, the pen marks solid and clear. The events I was informed of felt vivid, yet the silence that fell around me felt otherworldly. I was feeling lost and exhausted before, now I was more awake than I had ever been.
Around eight that night, the sun had set and the mountain had cast a chilling shadow over the down I stayed, sleet had been reported near us and snow on the mountain. If I was going to get the answer I so desperately wanted, I was going to have to earn it. I walked to my car, steam cascading from my nostrils as the cold air turned frigid with even the slightest of breezes. I got in my car and drove to the first rest point along the mountain to gather some supplies: Some water and snacks, a couple of pre-charged battery packs for my recorder as I don’t want to stop every fifteen to twenty minutes to write down my experience. This would also prove if I was going insane or not, when asked by a couple of the staff at the store, I told them my intentions and they sounded interested for the first time. When I left I tested the packs and sure enough; fully charged and my recorder was clean and ready to be used.
I approached the entrance to the mountain pass that had been the setting for this ghost story that has latched on to me since childhood. No street lamps, no signs, yet the road itself was painted brightly and every so often a glowing marker was placed to ensure you knew when to turn and when to slow down. The threshold felt like a portal, the point where light didn’t reach and would not pass, even down to the road, where it was light, it looked traveled on, occupied and used; the mountain pass looked pristine; almost as if it hadn’t been touched for decades. As I looked beyond the pass, far below what was called the foothills of the Drakensberg, a large highway was built, the lights from the cars, the lamps and signs glowed for kilometers in the distance. After delaying for twenty minutes, I turned my car on, flicked on the high-beams and began my journey.
Every few minutes I would check my recorder, to make sure it was on and still functioning, it lay on the passenger seat in plain view, I could see some bright lights giving me the information if the screen was somehow obscured. It was a long while before anything happened. Maybe it was paranoia, maybe it was anxiety, whatever it was wouldn’t stop me from exploring this legend. Worst thing that could happen is I travel sixty kilometers and nothing happens and it turns out my grandfather was just trying to scare me. I turned again after a lengthy passage of time and I got my answer.
I don’t remember stopping, I don’t even think I saw anyone on the side of the road, maybe it was while I was looking at my recorder, but I felt a cold presence behind me.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Asked a voice, a quiet but feminine voice. A chill erupted throughout my body; a violent sense of panic coursed through my mind because I knew where the sound came from. It came from behind me. My hands began to shake but I dared not take my hands away from the wheel.
“Do you?” It asked again. The answer got caught in my throat, I found myself unable to speak.
“No, not really.” I managed though my voice felt hoarse.
“You seem to know what you want.” The voice said again, it sounded curious. I stayed silent, the road twisted and wound around the mountain in a chaotic and frantic fashion.
“Are you scared?” She asked again, the voice coming from next to me. I turned to look but a cold hand kept my eyes glued to the road.
“Keep your eyes on the road, enough people have died here.” She said, as my nerves calmed slightly.
“Who are you?” I asked, my eyes focused and the world around me much less than an echo.
“Why do you want to know?” She asked, sounding more like she was in a void, her voice had more of an echo than anything else.
“I want to know what happened here. The true story.” I said after taking a breath and gathering my nerves, the road seemed to calm down, from sharp uphill turns to moonlight sweeping curves that allowed my gaze to rest as the shadow of the trees passed us by.
“Can I trust you?” She asked, the question rang through my head as I remember what Farmhand said, how she trusted a stranger who took advantage of her.
“Yes. Yes you can.” I said after a while. The figure turned to me; I could feel her eyes scrutinize every inch of me.
“You’re not like him?” Her questions kept hammering into me, I felt a mix of fear and guilt, knowing who she was referring to.
“I won’t hurt you. I want to help.” I said after a while, gathering a fragile sense of courage as my hands shook furiously. The road seemed to twist and turn, harsh rising hills. Sharp corners told the tale of her many victims as my headlights passed by, the scrapes and dents of hard hits leading to a drop that seemed to have no end, not a single tree could be seen and the moonlight from high above could not pierce the dark veil that lingered joust over the edge of the road. After a while, she spoke again.
“Alright, I trust you.” She said as I allowed my eyes to wander, the figure relaxed in the passenger seat for a while, my recorder on the center console as I saw her blue skin, almost emitting a frozen chill as I saw her dress, torn and tattered, my stomach felt uneasy when I saw bruising and swelling near her inner thighs. Her hands crossed in her lap as I saw the scratches and what looked like deep cuts on her arms and exposed shoulders from the straps on her dress. I could not see much of her face as it seemed her face was bleeding.
“What happened that night?” I asked, concentrating on the road again. My passenger stayed quiet for a while, quietly shuddering and sniffing before she spoke again.
“I was happy, a man I loved decided I would be his date for the matric dance. We’d known each other since we were children. My best friend. We were driving along this road to get to the lodge, where the dance was being held.” Her voice sounded sourly-joyful, her hands didn’t move from her lap much, so as to not distract me with her hand movements.
“It was a while before town, the car started shaking. I thought the tire had blown, but smoke came from the front. We stopped nearby.” She pointed and I could see the flashing of hazard lights and the smell of smoke invaded my nostrils.
“I thought I’d get some help, he said he’d be fine and that I should hurry back. I walked for a while; it was a cold night still. I walked for, I don’t know how long. But I managed to get an old man to stop. He said he’d help; we just need to get my man and he’d sort out the car.” She said as the road began to crack and fall apart at the edge.
“Do you know what he did?” She asked me, I assumed it was a test to see if I was listening.
“He deceived you.” I answered. She nodded, looking down for a short while before continuing.
“He asked why I was alone on this road. I told him I wasn’t, that I was on my way to town with my man, and I told him about who he was, what he meant to me. I was overjoyed when I saw him, my joy turned to confusion, to horror as he sped up and ran him over. I saw his body roll into the trees, I thought for sure he was dead.” She pointed to the part of the road that had a piece of cloth swaying in the breeze, marking where her man was hit and last seen by her.
“After I witnessed my childhood innocence be ripped from me, he finally stopped, that butcher! I blacked out with a sharp pain, when next I woke, I couldn't feel my legs and my fingers were numb. Just before I said anything, he pushed me out of his car. I remember falling, the road was like ice, all I could do was crawl.” She said, her anger translating to the road shifting and breaking apart, turning violently uphill only for the sheer drops and sharp turns that threatened to throw me off the edge. I barely managed to keep the car on the road as the road shifted again, it was so silent that I could hear the tires screeching like a distant wail.
“I’ve searched for years, if he’d ever return, I’d make sure he never left like he left me.” She said as the note my grandfather left in his books, the man who was panicked and sketchy, had his autopsy reveal that he was of the elderly group. I felt a slight pang of guilt as I realized that the man who did this to her was probably dead for a while. I weathered her storm of rage as the stretch of road became calm, as did she.
“I’m sorry you suffered like that; I wish there was something I could do.” I said unconsciously. I felt her gaze soften to me; her rage calmed as she went back to her neutral position.
“He was called ‘Farmhand. Because he was trustworthy, kind and reliable..” My eyes widened as the realization crashed on my face: He lived.
“If you aren’t like how he was, then you don’t deserve to leave this road.” Her voice was harsh, the road began to fall apart, the cracks forming as parts fell away like they had been falling apart for years, though my body was fatigued, I kept the car on the road. As uncomfortable as the ride was, the road soon turned into dirt paths, completely unlit and unpredictable. It felt like hours before it returned to normal, albeit slowly, my hands still shook relentlessly. I understood her outrage. I couldn’t imagine the trauma she experienced, the sadness.
“If you would like, I can take you back to town.” I asked. In retrospect, that was a stupid question.
“I don’t know.” She replied, unsure and confused.
“No rush, we have time.” I said as I turned around and began my long drive back to town. The road swerved and waved calmly, completely different to the approach. I drove to the point where The Lady in White was last seen, after a while I parked my car near the spot and looked to my side. The woman wasn’t there. I looked at my watch and my recorder. The sun had begun to rise over the hills, the air was crisp and fresh, I stayed for a while to just take in the sight of a calm morning before turning my recorder off and driving back.
I returned to my hotel room and after placing everything on the desk, I fell onto my bed and fell asleep, my body was exhausted and my mind was fatigued beyond words. I fell into a dreamless sleep and woke up in the afternoon. Having something to eat I went over the events from last night, pen and paper at the ready, I prepared to hear myself talking to nothing and no one. The doubt set in before I even hit the play button, after a while of convincing myself that I have some concrete evidence, I pressed play. To my surprise, it sounded like there were two people in the car, me and a woman, although the woman’s voice was covered by static. I wrote down all I could, that is what you’re reading.
The next couple of days went by and nothing special happened, I kept to myself most of the time. While analyzing everything I captured. It all seemed like a dream, an incredibly vivid dream. The last note I made during this investigation was: if something like that exists here, surely more stories remain in this part of the world. As the trees faded into the distance as the bus trundled along the trail back, the forest retreating as I returned back to the concrete and steel, it wasn’t long before the questions I had before, followed me home.

Hey, I am struggling to find the title of an anime, which I have seen years ago.
Here is what I remember. The main characters are a guy and a girl which are still attending high school. I am quite sure they both have dark hair. Both also like each other, but they struggle to confess and it only happens when one of them is about to move away or something like that, not quite sure anymore.
Somehow a scene comes to my mind's eye where one of them sits in a moving truck (probably the girl) and is about to drive away and then the guy is running after her on the street. Could also be misremembering things, it's just too many years ago. I also remember another scene where one of them both performs some traditional ritual in some Japanese temple where they are clothed completely in white and play some instrument (drums...?).
The girl has an older brother, which is a mechanic or something similar. He is in his 20s, drives a motorcycle and at some point has an accident while driving her around. I still remember that the motorcycle goes off in flames and that it was quite snowy.
I also remember that the main character dude plays basketball in school at least once. Also, I remember that they live in a town near the ocean or beach and sometimes walk there together.
I know, it's not much, but that's all I remember. Can't find this on google, just too unspecific I guess.

Hi girls! I feel like this group gives solid advice and I want to ask you ladies for your unbiased opinions. I’ve commented allot in here so some of you are already familiar with me, some of you may not be. So very quick backstory
I’m 32(f) who’s married to a wonderful husband and we share a 4yr old girl. We have been together for 7 years and married for 6 of those years. I’m black American and he’s Japanese and English. I am from states moved over seas 11 years ago and briefly moved back to the states but we are officially back in Japan and the UK. We live primarily in Japan and will be in the UK a couple of months out the year and do frequent there often. I work in fashion marketing and has worked in high fashion for 11 years
It’s my dream to work in fashion and I’m obsessed with fashion and I love it. I made quite the career. But ever since having my daughter and something that happened to me while at work, I am losing interest in work now. I was always a career boss chick and super feminist but after life changing experiences I think I want to take a step back for a few years and just relax because I have been working hard for again 11 years. Straight out of college. I’m not complaining it’s been great but after an injury and birth of my daughter I feel like a hamster running on the wheel
For years my husband recommended I quit working because although I make good money he makes way more than I do and that’s just his salary not with bonuses. It feels like my money is just play money because we really don’t need it. But I’m independent and feminist and something about depending on a man feels like I’m a sellout to everything I stand for. But I don’t have the passion I once had. I want to start my clothing business and my husband backs me 100% but something about abandoning the job I dreamed about feels wrong
He’s a great husband and father, I trust him but I think it’s just the way I was raised to not depend on anyone and work is keeping me from leaving. I’m officially a Japanese citizen soon I’ve lived in Japan 8 wonderful years and speak fluent N5 Japanese. I find joy at home when I’m with my daughter and dogs and when I see my horses in the UK. I want to take time off work to enjoy my family and then launch my business. However the guilt won’t let me let go. I can’t explain it.
I feel like I’m letting women down by being a work girl and just dipping from the work force I don’t know why but I feel bad. And my friends are usually feminist and they tell me I am a hypocrite because I said women who want to rely on men aren’t feminists. Again foolish thing I said and after life events I changed my mind on that stance. So between friends dragging me and my own mom saying it doesn’t matter if I make significantly less than my husband I should work anyway, to my own guilt to of leaving a career I fought hard for I’m conflicted.
Sorry for the long post. If anyone has any opinions or felt this way please comment. I need to make my decision this week. I don’t know what to do.

Waldo could feel the tension in his body. He hated breaches. He used to be a general in the armada. Waldo had not figured out exactly what happened but in a few weeks leadership had changed all across the galaxy. Waldo had sensed something was different and Waldo had changed his identity adding himself to a low level unit while he tried to figure out what had caused the change. However, his contracts slowly disappeared and he was having a hard time cultivating new ones. Waldo had heard the name Bastion a lot in the changeover and Jonah seemed to have fallen off his radar, which Waldo found very distressing. So now he was just a lower level grunt Waldo had to follow orders and keep his identity hidden. That meant he saw lots of action thus why he was on a breaching team. All the prep in the world never made him feel safe on a breach and they had no prep time for this one. Toby slammed the charge on the handle of the Iron door and deftly ran the blasting cord around the frame, in a single smooth motion. Waldo felt Juan tense in front of him as they prepped for entry after the blast. Waldo would be second in on this one having lost the coin toss. Not that he really minded due to the lack of information. Juan would be going right, Waldo had the left, and Brett would be going down the middle. Juan, Waldo, or Brett always led the breaching team; they were their units cowboys. At least, that is what they called themselves. Their lieutenant Frank called them his lovely ladies but everyone was a girl to Frank. Waldo didn’t care about it, Brett would get angry with Frank out of combat, and Juan only ever laughed over it. Waldo was pretty sure Brett was putting up a show as he had caught Brett offering to be a bottom to a guy at a bar three months ago, which had led to him swearing secrecy over it. Waldo found himself smiling as Frank started into it.
“Lovely ladies, Juanita, Betty, and Wilma. Tina is spreading her legs in three.” Frank said loud enough for the breaching team to hear as he raised his hand holding up three fingers starting a countdown to Waldo’s 4th breach of the day. As the door blasted in they moved smoothly forward like a well rehearsed dance. Juan moved through the door into a hallway with Waldo close on his tail. Waldo saw it a second too late as Juan had completely missed the tripwire. Waldo grabbed Juan a hair too slow as Juan’s foot hit the wire tripping whatever the trap was. Waldo felt the magic in the blast before he heard the tremendous roar. Waldo felt himself pushed back by Juan while trying to pull him. Waldo felt certain he had Juan’s pack firmly gripped as he fell back. Suddenly, there was nothing in his hands. The air felt cool and instead of the hot sun beating down he felt a warm glow off to his left.
Waldo rolled to his feet and spun, assessing the room, but everything was wrong. He had lifted his rifle up to sight as he spun but it was missing so instead in the middle of the spin he drew his side arm. However, as he finished his spin his arm fell loosely to his side. Waldo stood in the middle of three empty round tables. In what, he would call the common room of a themed bar or restaurant. He saw humanoid creatures standing near a long wooden bar with 4 patrons seated at it and another dozen or so scattered around the room with more on the two levels above him. Off to the side of a warm glow that Waldo realized there was a fireplace with a fire happily burning in it and there was a stage. Waldo would have loved to hear the music from the group on stage with their odd assortment of instruments but it was at this moment Waldo realized the blast had deafened him. Waldo felt certain no one would attack him, having noticed an odd assortment of humanoids. Waldo saw gnolls, tabaxi, and maybe lizardperson. Waldo holstered his side arm but in looking down he noticed a growing pool of blood at his feet and saw a piece of rebar sticking out of his arm. Waldo saw the enchantments engraved in the rebar and part of him said magic wasn’t real then something else said that humans were the only intelligent race. Waldo pushed those back knowing better. He had seen lots of races and humans were just one of them. Waldo felt more than one voice trying to take control and he pushed back, calming his mind. Waldo attempted to quiet his mind as he was flooded with memories and thoughts he did not recognize as he pushed against them he felt someone or something help him in quieting his mind.
Waldo had not noticed the pain of his injury because of how much adrenaline was pumping through him. Waldo examined the rebar seeing the blood running down his arm. Waldo estimated he had ten minutes before blood loss would start to impact him if it did not clot on its own. Waldo glanced around the room seeing a few gnolls who had noticed him but no one seemed to care and decided he could care for the wound. Waldo grabbed the quick releases on his backpacks shoulder straps letting his bag fall onto a table he positioned behind him. Waldo quickly turned to face the bag and flipped it over so he could easily access it. Waldo grabbed a strap on the pack and deftly released it. Wrapping the loose strap above where the rebar was sticking out of his arm. Waldo smoothly grabbed his folding knife, flicking it open and cutting the sleeve away. Waldo placed the sleeve on the table and checked to see if it was all there or a piece was missing. Waldo grimace realizing a piece of sleeve is probably in his muscle. Waldo flicked the knife closed and placed it next to the sleeve. Waldo pulled out a bottle of water, a small bottle of rubbing alcohol, a healing tonic, and a sealed bandage for once it was clean. Waldo was so focused on what he was doing at the table he had not noticed the small group that had gathered behind him.
“I don’t think he can hear us.” Strisk, a large drake, said, preparing to tap the strange human’s shoulder to get his attention.
“Really, Strisk. You don’t think the guy bleeding on the floor that I shouted at can hear us?” Lydia, the only human in the commons, asked angrily, placing her hands on her hips.
“I think he is going to pull that piece of metal out of his arm.” Kna, the gnollish innkeeper and owner of the establishment, said surprised. Watching Waldo’s back tense as he stretched his arm out to the table. Grabbing the rebar in his other hand.
“Sir! Don’t!” Lydia screamed as Waldo ripped the 4 inch piece of rebar stuck halfway in his arm out.
“Fuck!” Waldo yelled as the piece of metal came free. Waldo looked it over for cloth finding a small piece that he carefully removed from the end of the rebar and placed in the hole of the sleeve and frowning seeing there was still more. Waldo screamed as the onlookers watched him shove his fingers into the hole in skin.
“Strisk, help me stop him.” Lydia said. Grabbing Waldo’s arm. Strisk hesitated. A moment before grabbing Waldo’s other arm.
"Stop! There is more fabric in my arm!” Waldo screamed as the two strangers forced his arms apart. Waldo looked at the sleeve. Unsure if they could even understand him. The strangers released Waldo as he attacked the problem again.
“Aer, go get me water. I will clean this up once he is done” Lydia said, to a gnoll barmaid nearby, deciding to stay next to this stranger.
“I’ll get the mop and some rags to help.” Kna said not wanting to watch anymore and stepping away.
Waldo pulled out a piece of fabric and placed it in the sleeve. Smiling now that he could account for all of the sleeve. Waldo grabbed the water bottle using his teeth to remove the lid and poured it down his arm. Followed by the rubbing alcohol to which he could not help but scream again as it burned.
“That looks bad.” Strisk said, fingering a potion at his hip. Seeing Waldo was prepared to heal the slow way. Strisk was trying to decide whether or not to help the stranger out by giving him the healing potion he carried as a city guard.
Waldo was looking at the hole in his arm knowing it would take time to heal even with the help of the tonic. He estimated it would be a day or two. Waldo looked back at the lizard person standing behind him in armor. Waldo grimaced as he drank the healing tonic. Waldo looked at the only human girl in the commons. Waldo instantly recognized her but could see she did not recognize him. Waldo hated this feeling but took his time looking over her sandy blonde hair and the gentle curves of her face. Waldo let his eyes wander across her chest and down her legs to the floor even though there was not much to see since she wore a high neck dress that was rather plain. Waldo expected she worked here and was not one to take crap from the patrons. However, Waldo knew her face and her shape as just as he remembered her, he did not need her clothes off to tell this. Waldo turned back to the table and opened the bandage and applied it to his arm. “He took his time looking you over.” Strisk said, eying Lydia himself.
“At least, he seems to know not to touch.” Lydia said, without looking at Strisk. She had been rebuffing advances from him and other drakes like him since she took the job. She hated the drakes, which was not unreasonable as they had burned her home to the ground, killed her parents, her betrothed, and enslaved her for five years. Lydia had fled to the nearest city not under drake control once she was freed. Lydia knew that not all drakes are slavers but getting over somethings are easier than others.
“Do you think he can hear us?” Strisk asked, ignoring the jab not wanting to be thrown out by Kna again. Strisk still was fingering the healing potion not having decided on whether or not to offer it. The human seemed to be taking things to remedy his condition. Strisk stood over the two humans by about a foot when he extended to his full height at the moment he was hunched down a bit so he did not tower over them. Strisk thought he looked good this evening having cared for his bronze scales before coming to Kna’s inn. Waldo rolled up the sleeve and piece of rebar and placed it in his pack then pulled out a healing tonic with a dropper on it and a tin a bit larger than his hand slipping the tin into a pocket. Waldo used the dropper to put a few drops of his second healing tonic down each of his ears. Waldo knew it would take a minute for the tonic to kick in and heal enough damage to restore hearing. Waldo returned the spare tonic to the pack and turned around letting his eyes meet Lydia’s. Waldo thought he saw her eyeing him and she had a small smile on her face as their eyes met. Her face made various emotions flare inside him and it had to focus to stay in control feeling a bit like someone else was trying to take control. Waldo felt his hearing return as the sounds of the room washed over him.
“Hello.” Waldo said, smiling at the woman ignoring the large lizardperson or dragonkin. Waldo could not really tell but he knew getting it wrong would probably offend them.
“Hey, I am guardsmen Strisk.” Strisk said. Waldo glanced at the drake and then looked back at the woman. She crossed her arms and her smile turned to a frown. Waldo could not help but think crossing her arms only accentuated a certain feminine feature of her form.
“Any chance I could get your name?” Waldo asked, meeting the woman’s eyes.
“Lydia. Why are you bleeding on our floor and where did you come from?” Lydia asked, feeling her pulse raise with the way he was looking at her. Lydia had not been in the presence of a human male for ten years. Lydia had not been avoiding them there just weren’t many humans in the city she had fled to and she would not risk going back to drake territory as much as part of her wanted certain things, saving up to get off his continent had been her focus. Human also from what she had seen human men did not survive long under the abuse the drakes applied to there slaves in the nearby Xalas empire. “I am Waldo Winter.” Waldo introduced himself looking at Lydia. “As for why I am bleeding, I think it was an explosion of some kind. The shockwave knocked out my hearing. I am from Halcyon. I was in an outlying district at the time of the explosion and the wood in this room tells me I am not there anymore.” Waldo stated calmly.
“So you entered Protham via an unauthorized teleport?” Strisk asked, trying to sound official.
“One I did not initialize or agree to but yes. Are you going to arrest me?” Waldo asked.
“I will have to report it. I will let someone else decide if you should be arrested. Assuming you don’t cause additional trouble.” Strisk said.
“It is an honour to make your acquaintance Strisk. Thank you for not arresting me.” Waldo said, giving Strisk a smile before turning back to Lydia.
“Why were you caught in an explosion?” Strisk asked the strange human, smiling back at him since he was being respectful.
“Well that is a little difficult. I was entering a suspected criminal's residence just before finding myself standing in this lovely room.” Waldo said deciding to omit details since it would be simpler than explaining. “There was an explosion of some kind and then I was here. I have to assume the hunk of metal hit me before I appeared here somehow.”
“Sounds like a teleport spell gone wrong.” Lydia said, allowing herself a moment to look over Waldo since he was not causing trouble. She could see the muscles in his arm and thought she recognized his jawline but knew that could not be the case since she had no idea where Halcyon was.
“I wouldn’t know much about that. I can only hope my brothers are alright. Can one of you tell me where I am?” Waldo asked, masking his face, wondering if he had died. The blast had been strong enough to rupture his ears. Waldo was not sure he could have actually survived, even with Juan in front of him. Waldo expected he had died and this was some sort of reincarnation. Waldo knew he could not return home if the was an arrival on this planet as a child of Halcyon he had heard of this experience but this was his first time. As he thought about this he realized he did not want to go back even if he could. He had been in hiding and now he was probably well outside of the problems he had and doubted anyone hunting him would keep it up after death if he had died. If not then he was incredibly lucky he had landed in a place where he did not die instantly. Looking at Lydia something told him that someone powerful had intervened but Waldo could not imagine who. Jonah had abandoned him and Waldo could not think of another player with enough power to do anything who would also care about him.
“Spriggan Inn, in Protham.” Lydia said, looking carefully at Waldo. Aer walked over carrying a rag and pushing a bucket of steaming water. Kna walked over with a mop and an empty bucket to wring the mop out.
“Oh, thank you.” Waldo said, taking the mop from Kna and starting to clean up.
“Protham is nowhere special, Lydia. We are a weeks travel from Neakar City. Neakar is the district capital here and a port city.” Strisk said, looking at Lydia.
“You don’t have to do that.” Kna said, as Waldo deftly cleaned up the blood on the floor. “Just let him. He is probably in shock.” Strisk said, as they watched Waldo clean the floor easily.
“Just a bit.” Waldo said after a moment, having finished mopping and given the mop back to Kna. Waldo used one of the rages Aer had to clean the table his pack had been on ending by wiping the drying blood from his ears. Waldo looked down and realized he was a mess.
“How far did you travel?” Aer asked, frowning having heard the conversation.
“Far enough, those names mean nothing to me.” Waldo replied.
“So you are gonna need work.” Strisk half asked and half told Waldo.
“Seems like that would be wise.” Waldo said, placing the rag over the edge of the bucket holding the dirty water from Waldo’s cleaning efforts.
“Protham needs good city guards.” Strisk said, smiling. “I can get you an interview tomorrow. I will come by tomorrow morning and get you. If you are interested?”
“I’ll need some training on your laws, but sounds interesting to me.” Waldo said, sticking out his hand to Strisk. Strisk looked at it a moment then realized he was supposed to grab it and did with his clawed hand.
“Thanks, for your help Strisk.” Waldo said, firmly shaking Strisk’s hand.
“Sounds like you want a room for the night. Unless, Strisk is offering to pay. Do you have any money?” Kna asked, frowning at Strisk.
“You can put one night on my tab, Kna.” Strisk said.
“Only if you pay your tab off tonight.” Kna said, feeling a bit bad but knowing Strisk’s tab was getting out of hand.
“Do you accept silver?” Waldo asked, before Strisk could reply to Kna.
“Yes, take a seat and I will get my scales.” Kna said, having heard enough to know she was going to need to calculate an exchange.
“I am glad you happened to have some coin on you.” Strisk said, frowning at Kna’s back.
“Yeah, my dad was big into carrying certain things every day. Good thing, I listened to him cause I bet my country's paper money is worthless here.” Waldo said, pulling the tin out of his pocket and carefully opening to make sure it was the right one then closing it again.
“Well, your bag is probably worth quite a bit. I have never seen anything like it. Fine craftsmanship.” Aer said, examining his pack.
“I would rather not part with it if possible.” Waldo said sitting down at the table his bag had been on since he moved it to the floor beside the table in cleaning the table. Strisk sat down across from him as did Aer with Lydia sitting close and she was still looking at him.
“Lydia, you are being weird.” Aer said, quietly.
“Looks like Lydia wants to bed the man.” Strisk said, frowning at Lydia.
“Watch it, Strisk.” Lydia said to Strisk with an edge in her voice. “Waldo just reminds me of someone.” Lydia followed up with a softer tone.
“Good memories I hope. I think I’d like to get to know you.” Waldo responded, not looking away from Lydia. “You remind me of… Someone.”
“Well, be nice and maybe we can share some memories.” Lydia replied, not breaking his gaze. Waldo felt there were some additional implications in her words.
“Is there a price?” Waldo asked, before he could stop himself. Waldo was not entirely sure where the words had come from in saying them they just burst from his lips like someone else was running the show. The words had sent Lydia’s hand flying. Waldo easily caught it mid air. “I will take that as a no, which is nice. A woman with a price isn’t a woman worth having.” Waldo said, speaking again without being sure where the word came from. Waldo wondered if he was going mad but something told him he was not. Waldo edged closer to Lydia as he thought this and realized he seemed to be of multiple minds in this moment. Words and actions happening that he was not sure were all him. Aer and Strisk were watching in surprise. “Maybe I misinterpreted your words.”
“If you can pay for your room. I am willing to let the words go. Now if you would let me go.” Lydia responded, carefully feeling the strength in his arm and seeing the ease with which he caught her slap. She had used a skill to hit him, one that had landed on Strisks and other guardsmen when they got out of hand. She felt he could be dangerous and even though he had caught the slap and was easily holding her arm in place he was not hurting her. In fact once she relaxed, from making the slap, she realized how relaxed he was in stopping her slap. She saw him considering letting her go. She met his eyes letting her anger show at being held in place. Lydia realized how close he had come moving a little to block her slap and left him close enough she felt his breath on her face. Lydia realized she was breathing on him too and something in his eyes seemed to be enjoying the closeness they were sharing.
“I want a taste.” Waldo said, kissing her before she could react and sliding his hand along her back. Lydia wanted to struggle but part of her had been aching for this for years and she did not put up a fight. After a moment she found she was kissing him back for a moment and just as she was about to pull away. He did first. Waldo had been wanting to kiss her since he had laid eyes on her and at least this time he was sure that was him. “Well, that was… special.” Waldo felt a memory tug at him in the back of his mind. One of a girl that looked just like this woman.
“Maybe, for you.” Lydia said, trying to hide how much she enjoyed it. Waldo released her hand and turned looking for Kna. Waldo watched Kna approach with the scales. Waldo quickly opened the tin, pulling out a bundle of five carefully wrapped gold coins before closing it again and placing the tin back in a pocket.
Waldo unwrapped the coins asking “What exchange rate can you offer on these?” Aer gave a quiet gasp at the sight of them. Waldo feared he had made a mistake. As kna set the scales on the table.
“You have gold?” Strisk asked. Kna seemed unphased as Kna placed the coins on one side of the scale and started to carefully weigh them.
“Just a little. For an emergency.” Waldo responded.
“That should be enough to live here for a month.” Strisk stated, watching Kna carefully.
“You underestimate my rates. This will buy you three weeks.” Kna stated, as the scales balanced.
“What? That is highway robbery!” Strisk said.
“I have to take them to a blacksmith to get them minted in local coinage, they will need to be paid. Or I will have to take them to a money changer, who will also take a cut.” Kna stated.
“What would that include?” Waldo said, realizing his hand had wandered from his leg and found Lydia hand grabbing it tightly. Waldo felt Lydia tense as Waldo grabbed her hand but noticed she did not pull away from the sudden contact.
“A room, hot bath every day, standard laundry service, the common breakfast, and dinner daily with one pint of house ale. You will have to pay for lunch if you come here to eat.” Kna said, listing from memory the services she included in her standard room offering.
“Sounds good to me.” Waldo said smiling and looking out the window confirming it was dark. “I assume we are in the middle of dinner?” Waldo asked, hopefully.
“Yes.” Kna answered.
“May I take dinner in my room? I would like to wash myself before bed. It has been a surprising day.” Waldo asked Kna.
“Yes! I will grab you a plate and show you to your room.” Lydia said, releasing Waldo hand and standing. Waldo let her hand go as she stood. Kna at Lydia with what Waldo expected was motherly concern. As Lydia turned away to get the room key and a plate of food.
“Is there running water in the room?” Waldo asked Kna.
“Yes, but I cannot recommend using it for anything other than bathing.” Kna said.
“It is fine I can purify water. Can I get this filled with water?” Waldo asked, holding out a metal canteen.
“Yes. Aer go fill this and bring it back.” Kna said, handing the canteen to Aer who quickly walked off. “Leave Strisk. I would have a word alone with this man.” Kna growled at Strisk looking angrily. Strisk knew better than to argue with Kna when she gave him this look.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Waldo.” Strisk said standing to his whole sevenish feet of height stretching as he walked away. Waldo only now realized how small he was compared to Strisk.
“Indeed.” Waldo said to Strisk and turned back to Kna.
“I have never seen Lydia take to a man as she has to you. Have you cast a spell on her?” Kna asked Waldo. Waldo burst out laughing, taking a moment to control himself.
“I have no skill in that kind of magic. If you know how to test one for magic I would happily submit. I suspect I know why she has taken to me but there is nothing magical about it.” Waldo said, having gained control of the strange urge to laugh at magic.
“Why?” Kna asked, eyeing him coldly.
“Now why should I answer you?” Waldo asked. “What do you care for, of freed slaves? Or are you not her enslaver?” Kna drew back surprised.
“You said you knew nothing of this place?” Kna replied.
“I have never heard of this city in my life or this land, but I have eyes. Lydia is the only human here beside me. You are a gnoll and Strisk is one of the scaled people’s. I never been around any of them long enough to learn to tell them apart. Lydia clearly has some aversion to Strisk which seems to be unconscious on some level. That suggests it is not that she does not simply dislike him but something more than that. It is obvious to me that she does not belong here and would choose another home, but something prevents that. When I kissed her I ran my hand down her back. I felt the cursed marks of a whip. Is she a free woman or do you own her?” Waldo said, sliding his hand to the knife attached to his lower back.
“My people do not enslave others. She is free. I did not know she hated it here.” Kna said going from angry to crestfallen. “I did not know she had been a drake's slave.”
“You will say nothing of this. If you value your friendship with her. I did not say she hated it here. She works for you, which I expect is because you are not a drake and probably more than that. I get the sense she misses her people. How long has she been here?” Waldo replied, smoothing his voice.
“Several years.” Kna said, drifting in her own thoughts.
“If she hated you she would have left. You must make her feel safe in a dark place so she does not wander from your light.” Waldo said.
“All the more reason to not let her be abused.” Kna said, gauging Waldo.
“You misunderstand something. I will always respect Ma laska.” Waldo said, changing languages without thinking and looking to where Lydia stood talking to Aer as a memory flooded over him for a moment. Waldo felt the other part of him pushing forward for a moment. “Good help you have. Deftly slowing Lydia while we talk.”
“What is ma laska?” Kna asked. Waldo hesitated, surprised by Kna's words, then realized he had called Lydia by accident. Waldo knew what it meant somehow but decided he better not translate it directly.
“A woman’s right.” Waldo said, choosing a lie over the truth. “Or at least that is a close enough translation in this context.”
“So that is another language?” Kna asked.
“Yes, one from my a place long ago.” Waldo answered. “Have we not strayed topics at this point?”
“I think I have made myself clear and you have made yourself clear now.” Kna said, glancing at Aer and making a low growl. “I will let Lydia make herself clear as she chooses. Now that I do not think you will take something Lydia does not freely offer.”
“Have you accepted her as your cub?” Waldo asked, turning to look at Kna.
“I ha... “ Kna stopped herself, looking surprised at Waldo.
“I see it in your eyes, witness it in your fur, and hear it in your voice. She is a daughter in your house. Does she know or do you keep it a secret from all but those who know how to see?” Waldo asked, calmly moving past Kna’s surprise.
“You said.” Kna started to accuse trying to remember his words.
“I have not seen another race in so long. I cannot tell the scaled races apart. However, I ran with a pack for six years. I was a brother to a gnoll, and son to his parents. I sat at their table and went on their hunts. I sang the rights and washed in their bath. I was once an adopted son, which fills me with pride. If you are not a slaver then I would call you friend.” Waldo said quickly as Lydia approached. Just as he finished speaking he gave a quiet howl in the gnoll tongue he had learned many years ago living on the plains of Halcyon long before the war that had landed him here. Aer stopped mid-step and stared at Waldo as the gnolls in the room turned looking at the grimy human who had named himself to the room in gnollish. Kna openly stared surprised Waldo had been named and knew the proper introduction for himself in a public place. Lydia was confused as to her it appeared Waldo was growling threateningly at Kna. Suddenly, the room responded with a quite gnollish welcome that made Lydia jump. Aer gently placed her hand on Lydia’s shoulder.
“They are greeting Waldo in our tongue.” Aer explained to Lydia, seeing she did not know what was happening in the room.
“He speaks gnollish?” Lydia said surprised.
“I guess.” Aer said, pulling her hand back and moving forward again.
“Why did you not say something before?” Kna asked, Waldo as Lydia and Aer walked up. Aer set his canteen on the table.
“It was not the time. All things have a place and now was this things place.” Waldo responded.
“You are a strange human, but I am comforted and feel as if there is nothing to fear.” Kna said to Waldo then turned to Lydia. “Lydia, you may do as you will the rest of the night and I will not interfere.”
“Thank you. May we call this the end of my shift then.” Lydia asked, feeling a little excited. Aer turned moving around the room with the other staff in the inn.
“Away with you before I find a need for your aid in tending to my customers. Who I have ignored, too long.” Kna said quickly moving away to help her staff tend to tables. Waldo picked up his pack and canteen.
“Lead on, Ma laska.” Waldo said, nodding to Lydia.
“Ma laska?” Lydia questioned not saying it quite right.
“Sorry, my lady. Old habits.” Waldo said, lying again feeling unsure as to why he felt like he was fighting to stay in control. Lydia raised an eyebrow questioningly but led on. Waldo followed her up the stairs to the second floor and down a hallway lined with six doors. She stopped in front of the door and placed a brass coin over the lock which clicked and the door swung open. Led him into a good sided room with an all wood floor and completely open. A large bed was on one side of the room, a table with two chairs by the door. Space at the foot of the bed. There was space between the bed and a bathtub with a toilet near the back wall with a screen by the toilet and a sink between the tub and toilet. The room was lit by glowing stones fixed to the walls Waldo saw what appeared to be a control for the glowing stones by the door before the table and chairs. There were towels by the sink. Lydia set the plate on the table and the brass coin next to it. Waldo set his bag at the foot of the bed and started to strip away his body armor until he heard the door shut causing him to turn. Waldo smiled seeing Lyida had not left.
“Would you like help?” Lydia asked, slowly walking to him with a gaze that excited Waldo. The kiss he had stolen had aroused something in Lydia and the urges she had been pushing back had rushed forward.
“I can manage. I am just removing some outer layers. They are deceptively heavy.” Waldo responded.
“Please allow me. I want to.” Lydia said, stepping next to him quickly. Waldo allowed her to help him, carefully guiding her hands to the straps holding the armor in place and allowing their fingers to get tangled. “You seem to be intentionally making this difficult.” Lydia accused, after it took almost a full minute to unhook one strap.
“Does it bother you?” Waldo asked, playfully nudging her and Lydia realized he was enjoying the delay.
“Your food will get cold…” Lydia said, blushing as she started to enjoy the fumbling of their hands and his contact.
“Hot or cold it is still food. However, this moment... is all its own.” Waldo said, dragging out her helping him remove his outer layers, which took another five or more minutes. After which, they sat across from each other as he ate his dinner. Lydia studied him as he ate.
“Have we met before?” Lydia asked, feeling at ease in his presence.
“After a manner…I believe so but not for more than a lifetime.” Waldo responded. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”
“Reincarnation?” Lydia asked not being familiar with the word.
“My people believe when you die a piece of you, what we would call a soul, starts a new life.” Waldo explained.
“I am not much for religion. In my homeland, they said the gods are dead. The Drakes of Xalas seem to think there are gods and people have souls. Most of the gnolls of Grofeas say there are no gods but there is a temple to the gnoll god in Protham and I believe the high priestess is the wife of the city's guard captain.” Lydia replied.
“Xalas? Grofeas?” Waldo asked, suspecting these are countries.
“Neakar, a large city in the Xalas empire. It even has a palace for the emperor. I don’t think it is the capital of the Xalas empire but I might be wrong. The Grofeas plains are ruled by the gnoll tribes. There are not very many cities on the Grofeas plains and Xalas has tentative peace with the plains gnolls that largely control Grofeas. Protham is the first city in the Grofeas plains after leaving the Xalas empire. Mostly, the Drakes have mined the Grofeas plains of all they are interested in so they leave them alone.” Lydia explained.
“What is your home land called?” Waldo asked.
“Northumbria, but last I heard it fell to the drakes in the war. I was captured before the Northumbrian king fell. The Teaniel Empire is the last human hold out against the drakes and if it falls the drakes will effectively rule the continent of Atios. Not that they bother much with the Grofeas plains.” Lydia explained.
“Ah, so you stay because there is no easy human stronghold to flee to?” Waldo questioned.
“I am trying to save up to go to Ibrix but that is a long boat ride off after traveling to the only gnoll port city because I refuse to go back into the Xalas empire. Only problem is Grofeas port city is three hundred leagues to the south east of here. The roads are less than safe and each year there are only about three caravans that make the trek. If I were to cross alone it is unlikely I would make it. The cost of going from here to Ibrix are a little more than a year's wage working here.” Lydia explained sadly.
“How many humans reside in Protham?” Waldo asked.
“Twelve. All women. Eight are too old for the trek and two are too young to go alone.” Lydia said.
“All former slaves of the drakes I assume.” Waldo said.
“What?” Lydia said surprised.
“I worked interrogations. I learned to read what was left unspoken. You have nothing to fear from me. Slavery is the evilest form of commerce.” Waldo said, kneeling by his chair with his back to Lydia and bearing it. Lydia saw thin white scars from wounds that had healed and been reopened only to heal again over and over again. Lydia was speechless. After a moment Waldo covered himself and sat down facing her.
“How did you know?” Lydia questioned. Waldo slid his chair close to her so they were a breath apart. Lydia stared at him waiting for an answer when he kissed her. This time she felt his hand running down her back touching her hidden marks. Waldo pulled back from the kiss after a moment.
“Slavers tend to have the same tricks. They leave the same marks on one's body and some people's souls.” Waldo said quietly as he sat a breaths distance from Lydia’s face. The moment stretched as shared history passed between them and without a word spoken they had shared secrets too dark to udder in the quiet of the room then there was a roar of cheers from the commons breaking the spell that dark secrets of shared history had woven for a moment.
“I hope we can talk more.” Lydia said, after a moment now that the spell was broken. Lydia stood now that her head had cleared. Lydia was not sure what she would do if she stayed and questioned what she wanted.
“Will you stay?” Waldo asked, gently touching Lydia’s hand. Lydia did not pull away. Standing Lydia moved to the door. She intended to open the door and leave but she grabbed the night lock turning the knob. Waldo was not sure what he expected but he would not stop her from leaving. Waldo heard the door lock click into place, Lydia took a few steps toward the bath and moved her hair to one side exposing the ties along her back. Waldo stood and moved to her beginning to untie her dress. Once he was done. Lydia let the dress fall to the floor. Time stretched and shortened all at once and before he knew it exhaustion took them as they lay on the bed together. Lydia snuggled up to him and in a moment her breathing was even and gentle. Waldo knew she had fallen asleep in that moment of respite. Waldo watched her for a moment only to realize how tired he was and started to doze off but just as he heard a voice speak in his mind.
“Class gained Soldier, Level one. Skill gained, find allegiance.”
“Cancel! Reject!” Waldo whispered, angrily not wanting to wake Lydia.
“Class and level canceled.”
Waldo was fully awake now. Realizing he is on a game world, Waldo frowned. He considered this for a moment. Waldo had heard of these but never been on one. Now the injury made more sense. He had died on Halcyon. Waldo wondered if Jonah even cared that he had died. Waldo took a moment to consider the implications of being on a gaming world. There would be no intergalactic armada base here. Waldo knew the gaming worlds had been cut off, largely due to proximity. All the gaming worlds were the opposite side of the galaxy. The armada was still a thousand years of growth away. Waldo now knew with certainty there was no simple way back. As he considered this he realized there might be a way. Waldo thought about it for a few minutes as the idea grew in his mind and realized he truly did not want to go back. “I am a God.” Waldo thought to himself, Waldo felt something rush to the front of his mind, something that believed it or he was a god.
“Class gained God, level one. Skill gained, anoint worshiper. Quest assigned, claim domain.”
Waldo smiled, surprised it was that simple. Waldo considered trying to cancel it but part of him said if he was going to stay here he might as well be a god. Thinking he could do anything as a god. Another part said it was a bad idea and it would not be easy. Waldo wondered why he was feeling so conflicted about everything and why he did not feel like he was in perfect control. Then he wondered if the gods were dead on this world, would he be the only god around, and if so what domain he should claim. Waldo slowly drifted to sleep with these conflicting thoughts.

My gender dysphoria started when puberty did, and it was intense.
I only ever had one real bra which I refused to wear. Getting fitted for it by an employee in a clothing store was fucking traumatizing. I just wore tight sports bras instead to makeshift bind for a few years until I came out as ftm at 14 and got real binders instead. Breast development was so psychologically distressing I couldn't handle it. When I wasn't binding I couldn't be around anyone, I couldn't leave my room. Since I starting binding, up until I got top surgery, no one had ever seen me while I wasn't binding. I only took it off to sleep and shower, but sometimes dysphoria was so intense I wouldn't even take it off for either of those. Eventually I moved on to layering 2 binders on top of each other because I didn't feel flat enough, and I would wear them all day everyday with no breaks. I'm extremely lucky I don't have any significant lasting rib or lung damage from this.
I used to try to make my voice deeper and some days just wouldn't talk because of voice dysphoria. Beforehand I was happy with and proud of my voice because I was a good singer and had great control over it. I used to be a soprano in my school's choir. I completely lost control over my voice and lost my high range on testosterone. I rarely sing anymore.
I used to roll up a sock and put it in my underwear to look like a bulge until I bought a packer and I used that instead. I feel like with time I just did this out of habit and my own saftey to reduce the likelyhood of being clocked. I was doing plenty of research on phalloplasty but I think it was really just something I was trying to convince myself I wanted because that's what trans men are supposed to want. I genuinely wanted top surgery, but I don't think I ever really wanted phallo. Some part of my convinced myself I did, but I think I knew I was never really going to get it, it never seemed worth it. I never really had much of an issue with my genitals unless it came to periods or the idea of penetrative sex. It makes sense I was kind of repulsed by that though because I was only young, but even now I'm just not all that interested in sex. (I don't have any sexual trauma by the way. Just mentioning that because people have tried to attribute my lack of sexual interest to trauma but that's clearly not the case.) Periods were really distressing because I wasn't really prepared for them at all and after I had come out as trans they felt very humiliating and invalidating. It also just felt extremely unfair to me that I have to go through this pain and discomfort because of the parts I was born with. Whenever I had a period (which was rare, I only had about 5 or 6 of them in my life, they were extremely irregular), I would just wrap myself in blankets and cry on my bedroom floor. I tried progesterone only birth control to stop them, (because I completely refused to touch the birth control pills that included estrogen, the idea disgusted me), and it made me bleed for 17 days straight which was horrifying so I never took them again.
I wore baggy hoodies and never tight clothes, hunched my back, or anything else I could do to hide my curves.
Once I had started questioning my gender at 13 but I wasn't out as ftm yet, I was very uncomfortable with being called she or a girl and liked it when anyone would mistake me for a boy. In childhood though I didn't care.
I was such a happy bubbly kid who was introverted but still not afraid to put myself out there and be myself. But when puberty began I became such a depressed, lonely, reserved person. I became so self conscious and anxious, I would do everything I could to fly under the radar and prevent drawing attention to myself. I became less expressive, less open, less honest with people. I didn't take care of myself either, isolated myself, neglected hygiene, excercise, health in general. I just had antidepressants thrown at the problem. I don't blame my psychiatrists or psychologist though, they tried, they offered supports and possible ways to better my mental health but I didn't take them because they were difficult lifestyle changes and stuff I didn't have faith in like meditation. I just wanted an easy quick fix to my problems without putting the work in to actually fix them. Antidepressants didn't make me feel normal again, they just stopped the constant sadness by supressing all of my emotions and leaving me feeling very little to nothing most of the time.
I feel like hormones were another easy quick fix to a deeper routed problem. But the easy solution never works to fix the problem long term. I saw testosterone as a miracle cure. It helped in some ways, didn't in others. Now I'm just unhappy with the changes. Atrophy, hair loss, it's taken the life from my eyes. I just look in the mirror now and I look so aged and tired at just 20 years old. I used to be excited for the changes testosterone would bring. Maybe I thought the grass would be greener on the other side, that I would be happier and have no issues anymore. Now I've got opposite problems, the facial hair, masculinised features, flat chest, rough skin, I began to grow more and more uncomfortable with them at about the 3 year mark on testosterone and that discomfort has only grow with time. (I'm nearly 4 years on T now). Sometimes it makes me think I've come this far so there's no point in trying to go back at this point. Knowing that if I keep going as it is it is easy, though it may be miserable, but going back is hard, and it's painful to acknowlege that if I am in fact a woman I've made life so much harder for myself by doing all this in the first place. Knowing I will likely be perceived as a trans woman and experience more transphobia than I ever have as a trans man is so terrifying and disheartning.
It feels like ignoring and bottling up my feelings and continuing to live as a man is the easy way, but admitting to myself I am a woman and destransitioning is the hard and painful way.
And I have always been inclined to choose the easy way so this has really challenged my usual approach to making any decision in life.
I stopped testosterone for about 2 months back in March, but then started again in late May and I've been on it since. I honestly felt better off it. Less anxious, more light. The only thing that's been holding me back from stopping is the risk of losing access to it compleltely and then changing my mind. If I tell my doctor I want to stop T I won't be able to start it again for over 7 years because of the long waiting lists with the way the healthcare system works in my country. That's why I didn't tell her when I stopped the first time, and it's the reason I started again. I started T again in late May because my doctor booked a blood test for me in June to check my hormone levels and I knew I would need to start again now so my testosterone levels would look normal again by then. It's a complicated situation and I don't really know what to do. If there were informed consent clinics in my country I would stop testosterone right now with the security of knowing I can start again whenever I want if I change my mind. But unfortunately it doesn't work like that here.

Hello my dear friends, I am writing this as sort of a diary entry to commemorate my time on this island. I will try to keep it short but as of right now, I don't quite know where this leads lol
I came to Malta 2 weeks ago and stayed in a hostel in the outskirts of St. Julian's. The moment I arrived, I was completely overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff that was going on. People, also tourists everywhere. Cars clogging up the roads. The sun burning from above. It was just crazy to me, how an island this small with a quarter of the population of my hometown City Vienna, can produce 4 x times the mayhem. You would think, with that limited space, people would prefer using their bikes to travel around. Not on Malta. Please tell me how this culture around cars emerged, I am very curious.
My bed in my hostel wasn't ready so I went to explore St. Philips Hospital. Holy shit, I have never been to a more disgusting place than that. 50% of the building is burned, and 25% of the rest that remains, is filled with bodily excretions and/or trash. I have also heard some questionable stories about that place. Fetuses found in buckets after the hospital was closed? Sounds like an urban myth to me but if you can confirm that, please do.
I ended the day by going to the Seafood Grill Market. I haven't seen that restaurant mentioned anywhere in my research. But damn, if you want some good seafood, go there. It is quite expensive though but absolutely worth it.
Next day I went to Ras id-Dawwara to go hiking. First however, I went to is-Serkin to get some Pastizzi and some tea for breakfast. Wow, great fucking stuff. Also, what are these prices? 60 cents for a Pastizzo (is that the singular?) , I instantly fell in love. I trekked 12km from Dingli to Bahrija through some incredibly interesting landscapes along the cliffs. Although, it was already very dry, I didn't mind because I was here to experience what the island is like. And that is what it is like. I very much enjoyed that walk and recommend it to anyone who hasn't done it yet. On the roads there, there are markings on the ground saying something along the lines of Start - Spin - Go. Are there some sort of races happening in the backcountry?
I came back to the hostel, took a 90 minute nap and then continued my mission on Malta by going to Liquid Club to some Hardtechno event. I met some very lovely people there, explaining to me what life is like on this island. In some conversations, sitting on the curb outside, heard a lot of complaints about some very shit politics, the general lack of opportunity and the loss of the Maltese identity. The night was incredible though and I am very thankful for these people guiding me.
Coming ack from the club, I couldn't sleep a single second. After lying in bed for 4 hours almost falling asleep but then not, I decided to do something about it and went to Kemmuna. When I arrived, I was once again completely overwhelmed by the amount of tourists on this beautiful little getaway spot. This is the place, where I really came to hate the average tourist. I am in no way trying to portray myself as oh so holy but I do try to practice my tourism as minimally invasive as possible. Assimilating into the culture pretty much summarizes this practice. But that was an insane scene I witnessed. Just boatloads (hehe) of tourists being dumped there fighting for every square cm of space to get the perfect shot for Instagram. The beauty of it all is however, that if you just put in a little effort, you get away from them entirely. Which is what I did and so I could explore this island with a girl I randomly met there from the hostel. Bless her heart, without her and in my physical state (at this point, I was awake for 28 hours, excluding the nap), I would have folded at some point. I am glad, I made it though and so I went to bed after 40 hours awake.
The next day, we went to Marsaxlokk to the supposed Fish Market. I already had my absolute reservations about going there and they were all truly fulfilled But one thing after the other. This place has gone to shit due to tourism. At the same time, there is nothing there? The fish market is just some stands ripping off tourists. I think I saw two stands selling actual fish. The restaurants are catering solely to people from abroad. There is no soul there anymore. St. Peter's pool was fun. Did some tricks into the water but that was it. Tbf, I was a little bit wasted from the 2 days before. In the evening, I excitedly made my way to Gozo to spend two nights there. Having been told at the club that Gozo is, what Malta used to be like 20 years ago.
I rented an E-Mountainbike to make sure, I see most of this island, which I absolutely accomplished. But once again, one thing after the other. I stayed in Marsalforn in a hostel and made my way to Nadur to get some Ftira. This is the beauty of food in a place where there's limited capabilities to grow food yourself. That thing filled me up for the rest of the day, even though I biked 70kms. Also, I am happy to announce my favoritism of Maxokk bakery (which I had the next day) over Mekren. They are indeed just a tad bit better. Either way, I then made my way to just about every town on Gozo and all the natural sites. Absorbing the beauty and calm of the old Mediterranean Or so you would think. Because every 30 minutes, there'd be a group of clueless tourists on loud, stinky quad bikes, disrupting that serenity. That didn't discourage me however and I continued my journey.
At this point, I would like to know how you feel about tourists. Maybe you don't even notice them anymore. I really did however. But if you tell me to tone down the hate, I will certainly listen to the people mostly affected.
I finished the day by climbing on of the hills and looking over the island. Found a lot of shards and shotgun shells (they're everywhere). I hoped for a beautiful sunset but I learned, there was a lot of sand in the atmosphere so that didn't happen unfortunately. It was a very beautiful sight nonetheless.
The next day isn't that noteworthy. Met up wit a girl I met at the club and we went to White Rocks and just talked and talked. the plan was to maybe see Valletta but that we skipped. I was very happy to go home anyway.
My conclusion of this trip, also TLDR I guess also endnotes. Malta is a very interesting case study in all of its intricacies. It can be a beautiful destination if you know what to look for. It has some incredibly lovely people. I seriously did not meet a single person that was hostile. Coming there was a small culture shock. You instantly notice, there are some problems quite present on this island. Lots of Jesus and Hail Mary. I expected more trash on the ground tbf. The water is better than in other places in Europe. The traffic is absolutely unbearable and it makes absolutely 0 sense to me why it is that way. The public transport as a result is terrible as well but what can you do when people unnecessarily clog up the already narrow roads. I didn't see a single homeless person which I found curious. There are a lot of Southeast Asian migrants which I found oddly specific. Gozo really is a different world, unfortunately the better Malta. Tourists everywhere. Some very unique nature but no beaches. It is in the end just a huuuge rock.
To be honest, I don't think I will be coming back. I have seen everyhing there is to see. But I very much enjoyed my time and want to say thank you to all of you. Your home really is something worth seeing.
Peace!

I (17f) have a stepmom linda who has 2 younger siblings are that close in age with me, jake (17m) and jane (16f). My stepmom doesnt live with me and my dad since they are seperated but my stepmom gave birth to my little brother a few months after the break up and hes the only reason why my stepmother and her siblings are still welcome in our house. now for context my stepmom's family has always been poor, poor to the point where they dont have electricity and water for months and my dad has to pay their overdue bills so they can have water and electricity again and because of this my stepmom and her siblings stay over at my house for a few weeks every other month and i basically share a room with jane during that time, jane is nice and we get along well but she literally looks through my clothes and everything i own and chooses stuff she likes and asks me if im willing to give it to her, usually i say no cause most of the stuff she picks out are either brand new like i havent even worn it that much yet or its either really expensive. i understand where shes coming from cause her family cant really afford to buy her new clothes she likes but idk its kind of really icky? to literally look through my clothes and practically guilt trip me into giving it to you and i do give her clothes i dont wear anymore my dads really understanding of linda's family situation so every year a week after new year we look through our closets and choose stuff we dont want anymore and give it to linda's family linda has always joked that jane is the luckiest cuz we share the same sizes from tops to pants to shoes, i really dont like when linda makes jokes like that cause sometimes she does the exact same thing as jane but worse she'll notice that i havent worn a pair of pants in a while or a pair of shoes then she'll suggest i give it to jane she even brings in my dad my dad usually takes my side but sometimes he takes my stepmoms side and im like guilt tripped into giving jane my stuff.
Last year jake found out i had a nintendo 3DS, im not close to jake as i am to jane cause we dont really have anything in common what i do know is jake is a avid gamer since he hogs my older brothers old ps4 whenever hes over and he practically sleeps on the couch because of it. i dont really use my nintendo 3ds much anymore ive had it since launch and i absolutely love it and when i first got it i used it daily for like 4 whole years, i still play occasionally mostly on long car rides and on planes but i mostly keep it hidden in a locked drawer in my room (for stuff i dont want jane to see or ask for yk) but last year linda decided to invite jake and jane to our vacation in the country side which was a 10 hour car drive so me, jake and jane all ended up sitting at the back together me behind the passenger seat, jake in the middle and jane behind the drivers seat because she wanted to see tbe window. I mostly just used my phone and had headphones in but about 5 hours in i decided to bring out my 3ds jake sees this i guess and he starts frantically tapping my shoulder so i could take out my headphones then he told me he didnt know i had one and he begs me to let him play i tell him no at first cause i wanted to play but he continued to beg and i got kind of annoyed and my stepmom heard jake begging and she told me to just let him try a bit so i decided to relent and he decided to play super smash bros and like 10 minutes in HE BROKE MY 3DS he was using the joystick too hard and it fucking snapped and a piece got stuck in like the inside?? honestly idk anyways i couldnt even move the joy stick anymore and like i was really upset cause i was planning on using it the whole trip and now its broken and i couldnt even use it anymore and i got really mad at jake but linda and jane defended him saying its a old console blah blah blah it probably broke cause its old but ive been using it for almost a decade and ive played super aggressive games of mario cart and smash too but my joycon has NEVER SNAPPED BEFORE. we were able to get it fixed like 1 month after but it was kind of pricey and jake never apologized and ive been hiding my 3ds since, jake has been asking me about borrowing it since its gotten fixed but everytime he asks i remind him hes the reason why i had to get it fixed anyways so no.
anyways this year for my birthday i told my dad i wanted a gaming console but i wasnt sure on what console yet so i told him i'll him what i want later and he agreed anyways jake finds out about this somehow and starts like hounding me and starts like rambling about different consoles and that i should get xyz and ive noticed most of the consoles hes been reccomending have been ones that have to be set up in like the living room and has the option for multiple players not weird since most game consoles are like that but ive told him multiple times that i want a handheld one but hes been presistent on those types but the one hes been pushing for the most is the nintendo switch and the ps5. Ive actually been kind of dead set on the nintendo switch since ive always been a nintendo games lover and animal crossing has my heart but i was having second thoughts and ive been sort of debating on getting the steam deck instead but ive decided fully on the nintendo switch but since ive noticed jake pestering me on consoles that can be hooked up to the TV i decided to get the lite version so he wont have any reason to borrow it since it cant be multiplayer or hooked up to the tv. jake somehow found out about this decision since i told my dad about it and hes been nagging at me about how much better the normal version is and how the lite is practically a rip off and how the normal version has way more uses and i sort of snap at him and told him its not like im gonna lend it to him and that i have no use for any of the uses hes talking about since im planning on playing alone. linda hears this and starts berating me on how much of a brat i am and how selfish i am and that i should understand where jake is coming from since they cant afford stuff like that and how much jake loves gaming and how im not as serious into gaming as he is and jake was saying how much of a asshole i was and honestly i am so over it my dad is 50/50 on it and is trying to be a peace maker and linda, jake and jane are all hounding me about it so AITA?
TL;DR: stepmom's family is poor and is constanly pestering me on giving out my stuff to them and my stepmoms younger brother breaks my nintendo 3ds and starts pestering me on buying a nintendo switch when he hears about me buying a new game console so he can use it too i tell him im never lending it to him and he calls me a asshole

My gender dysphoria started when puberty did, and it was intense.
I only ever had one real bra which I refused to wear. Getting fitted for it by an employee in a clothing store was fucking traumatizing. I just wore tight sports bras instead to makeshift bind for a few years until I came out as ftm at 14 and got real binders instead. Breast development was so psychologically distressing I couldn't handle it. When I wasn't binding I couldn't be around anyone, I couldn't leave my room. Since I starting binding, up until I got top surgery, no one had ever seen me while I wasn't binding. I only took it off to sleep and shower, but sometimes dysphoria was so intense I wouldn't even take it off for either of those. Eventually I moved on to layering 2 binders on top of each other because I didn't feel flat enough, and I would wear them all day everyday with no breaks. I'm extremely lucky I don't have any significant lasting rib or lung damage from this.
I used to try to make my voice deeper and some days just wouldn't talk because of voice dysphoria. Beforehand I was happy with and proud of my voice because I was a good singer and had great control over it. I used to be a soprano in my school's choir. I completely lost control over my voice and lost my high range on testosterone. I rarely sing anymore.
I used to roll up a sock and put it in my underwear to look like a bulge until I bought a packer and I used that instead. I feel like with time I just did this out of habit and my own saftey to reduce the likelyhood of being clocked. I was doing plenty of research on phalloplasty but I think it was really just something I was trying to convince myself I wanted because that's what trans men are supposed to want. I genuinely wanted top surgery, but I don't think I ever really wanted phallo. Some part of my convinced myself I did, but I think I knew I was never really going to get it, it never seemed worth it. I never really had much of an issue with my genitals unless it came to periods or the idea of penetrative sex. It makes sense I was kind of repulsed by that though because I was only young, but even now I'm just not all that interested in sex. (I don't have any sexual trauma by the way. Just mentioning that because people have tried to attribute my lack of sexual interest to trauma but that's clearly not the case.) Periods were really distressing because I wasn't really prepared for them at all and after I had come out as trans they felt very humiliating and invalidating. It also just felt extremely unfair to me that I have to go through this pain and discomfort because of the parts I was born with. Whenever I had a period (which was rare, I only had about 5 or 6 of them in my life, they were extremely irregular), I would just wrap myself in blankets and cry on my bedroom floor. I tried progesterone only birth control to stop them, (because I completely refused to touch the birth control pills that included estrogen, the idea disgusted me), and it made me bleed for 17 days straight which was horrifying so I never took them again.
I wore baggy hoodies and never tight clothes, hunched my back, or anything else I could do to hide my curves.
Once I had started questioning my gender at 13 but I wasn't out as ftm yet, I was very uncomfortable with being called she or a girl and liked it when anyone would mistake me for a boy. In childhood though I didn't care.
I was such a happy bubbly kid who was introverted but still not afraid to put myself out there and be myself. But when puberty began I became such a depressed, lonely, reserved person. I became so self conscious and anxious, I would do everything I could to fly under the radar and prevent drawing attention to myself. I became less expressive, less open, less honest with people. I didn't take care of myself either, isolated myself, neglected hygiene, excercise, health in general. I just had antidepressants thrown at the problem. I don't blame my psychiatrists or psychologist though, they tried, they offered supports and possible ways to better my mental health but I didn't take them because they were difficult lifestyle changes and stuff I didn't have faith in like meditation. I just wanted an easy quick fix to my problems without putting the work in to actually fix them. Antidepressants didn't make me feel normal again, they just stopped the constant sadness by supressing all of my emotions and leaving me feeling very little to nothing most of the time.
I feel like hormones were another easy quick fix to a deeper routed problem. But the easy solution never works to fix the problem long term. I saw testosterone as a miracle cure. It helped in some ways, didn't in others. Now I'm just unhappy with the changes. Atrophy, hair loss, it's taken the life from my eyes. I just look in the mirror now and I look so aged and tired at just 20 years old. I used to be excited for the changes testosterone would bring. Maybe I thought the grass would be greener on the other side, that I would be happier and have no issues anymore. Now I've got opposite problems, the facial hair, masculinised features, flat chest, rough skin, I began to grow more and more uncomfortable with them at about the 3 year mark on testosterone and that discomfort has only grow with time. (I'm nearly 4 years on T now). Sometimes it makes me think I've come this far so there's no point in trying to go back at this point. Knowing that if I keep going as it is it is easy, though it may be miserable, but going back is hard, and it's painful to acknowlege that if I am in fact a woman I've made life so much harder for myself by doing all this in the first place. Knowing I will likely be perceived as a trans woman and experience more transphobia than I ever have as a trans man is so terrifying and disheartning.
It feels like ignoring and bottling up my feelings and continuing to live as a man is the easy way, but admitting to myself I am a woman and destransitioning is the hard and painful way.
And I have always been inclined to choose the easy way so this has really challenged my usual approach to making any decision in life.
I stopped testosterone for about 2 months back in March, but then started again in late May and I've been on it since. I honestly felt better off it. Less anxious, more light. The only thing that's been holding me back from stopping is the risk of losing access to it compleltely and then changing my mind. If I tell my doctor I want to stop T I won't be able to start it again for over 7 years because of the long waiting lists with the way the healthcare system works in my country. That's why I didn't tell her when I stopped the first time, and it's the reason I started again. I started T again in late May because my doctor booked a blood test for me in June to check my hormone levels and I knew I would need to start again now so my testosterone levels would look normal again by then. It's a complicated situation and I don't really know what to do. If there were informed consent clinics in my country I would stop testosterone right now with the security of knowing I can start again whenever I want if I change my mind. But unfortunately it doesn't work like that here.

My next chapter. I made this one a little "spicy", but the following chapters will probably get back to your regularly scheduled simping. Aw, poor Davey, lol
I made my way up their steps and into Ashley’s bedroom. It was far from my 1st time here at this point. I’d often be called over to “hang out”. At the best of times, this involved me down on my knees, rubbing Ashley’s tired feet or painting her toenails as she controlled the conversation. Mostly just her venting about her day, sometimes about some recent party she went to that I was never invited to. Or just tidying up as she relaxed on her large bed and played with her phone or watched tv. I loved any opportunity to be around Ashley. Plus her room had an electric energy to me. I could take a deep breath and smell her very essence through the air. Not to mention the perks of being her little “simp”. Last time I was over I found a loose stay hair on her pillow as I was fluffing it up after making her bed. I was able to sneak that little strand of hair in my pocket and take it home. OMG, I lasted for weeks with that being my main source of masterbation material!!
Tonight I was actually hoping for a quick cleanup. Between this, helping Mrs. Smith and Ashley’s homework, time always seems to get away from me and I spend the next day dragging myself like a zombie. As soon as I walked in her room, I knew I would be a while. Ashley has many great qualities; tidiness isn’t one of them! She had old plates of food sitting on her desk. Chocolate wrappers just tossed on hr floor. Her clothes! She had a mix of worn and dirty clothes thrown about and hanging off of every chair, banister, and littering the ground. I’d have to inspect each item to confirm if they were clean or dirty before finding the appropriate place for them. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her hamper with bra dangling out. It must have been worn. And I could touch it. Maybe even get a chance to smell it! I felt myself get hot and got those same butterflies in my tummy.
"There you are. What took so long?" Ashley had removed her makeup and decided to make herself more comfortable. She changed out of her trendy day clothes which still followed all school guidelines, which included form-fitting jeans and a slight midriff-baring top, that had a swooping neckline to show off her chest proudly, though they needed no help showing off. Her body often even had some teachers drooling. Those sexy clothes were gone now that it was just us. Now she wore her grey sweatpants, her socks and an old cami top. I know the look wasn't "sexy" but knowing she had removed her bra and only a thin piece of fabric separated us was almost too much to think about. Butterflies in my tummy again.
"Oh, i'm so sorry, Ashley! Your Mom just a-asked me to help with some, um, washing up, in the laundry room after."
"See! Her and my Dad complain about me not doing my own chores, but then she goes and has you scrubbing dirty underwear like some 1950's bimbo housewife! It's because she doesn't wanna do that gross boring shit either! And can you believe my Dad!? Building character!? Like, really? And another thing- Oh, Davey, didn't you hear? My mom gave the okay. You can start on my room.” She gave me an expectant look and I took the hint and grabbed my cleaning spray and rubber gloves.
"Here, start here-“ She remained standing but pointed at a stain with her socked foot. "I spilled some soda I guess and it's like, sticky or something."
"Y-Yes Ashley, right away!"
And I got started cleaning the disaster of a room as Ashley finished venting and then relaxed at her desk. "I'll help in a sec. Just want to check insta 1st..."
Off I went scrubbing and dusting and tidying and primping and promping the teenage girl's room while I was for the most part ignored. I’ll save the boring details of scrubbing and tidying up a teenage girl’s bedroom. About and hour or so later, my fingers ached and my back was starting to hurt from being bent over so much.
"Okay, I think I pretty much got everything in a place your parents would approve, um, Ashley?"
She was now relaxing on her bed, reclined against the pillows. She was still over the sheets with her laptop on her stomach. I remember thinking how it must be hard to see the screen over her rising chest.
"What's that?" She looked up from her laptop for the 1st time in maybe an hour. "Oh sorry, I was messaging with Ryan. I must have got distracted".
Ugh, Ryan. Classic jock jerk! And of course her on again off again boyfriend. Honestly these days he mostly just treated her as friends with benefits. I have no idea why she puts up with him! He's crude, rude and just flat out doesn't treat her like the princess she is!! I have had her cry on my shoulder more times than I can count from this brute, but then the next weekend she is behind the bleachers sucking his cock!! Yuck, hard to imagine my sweet, confident princess getting on her knees for some brute! It's only a matter of time before she realizes she actually prefers sweet and caring types, and then maybe she even finds them sexy, and would even get down on her knees for someone like, like m-"
"Davey! This room looks great. What would you say to a little reward?"
Remember when I said the lines were blurred in the relationship. This is one of those blurred lines.
"A, r-r-rreward? You mean like-"
"OMG, look at your face. I really am too good to you, aren't I. God it's been what, a couple weeks since I let you eat me out, huh?"
"Uh, yeah, um, uh, yes, it-it's been um, yea, uh 3 m-m-months now, um, uh, A-Ash-l-ley..."
"Wowwwww, aw, that's a long time for you. Yea, I was gonna hop in a quick shower before bed, it was a long day. But then I started talking to Ryan and well, now I'm in the mood. Plus, you really, really deserve it. Just look at this place." she gestured to her now sparkling room. "You have been SO sweet lately. Anyway, nothing crazy. Just kinda want to grind one out to help me sleep, you know?"
"Oh, uh, um, y-y-yes, th-thank you-u, I- I, uh, um yes, I unders-s-stand Ashley".
"Good boyyyy. K, in you go". She got under the covers and held the blanket up for me to crawl in. She pulled her sweatpants down, and then threw her underwear off the side of the bed. Under the dark heat of the covers, all I could see are the most beautiful golden tan and toned legs rising out of her ankle socks, and climbing until they met the most perfect, tight and perfectly trimmed pussy. When I got close I could smell her excitement and I could see a slight slickness by her folds. She must have been getting wet while talking to Ryan, ugh, yuck!
"Here!" she said as she ripped the covers off me temporarily blinded by the light. "Open!"
Instinctively my body naturally obeys any command from her lips, and I opened my mouth wide. A second later I saw her reach for a tube and she squirted it in my open mouth.
"It's lube. Swish it around to warm it up for me. Plus it’ll get your tongue all extra slippery.” I obediently opened my mouth wider and stuck out my tongue as she took one hand and grabbed my face, squeezing my cheeks slightly to push open and out my lips into a dramatic ‘O’ shape with my tongue hanging out. I tried not to imagne what I must look like. With her other hand she squeezed the bottle with an undignified glorrp right into my mouth. I gently swished the off-tasting, gloopy mess around my mouth as Ashley instructed. "Mmmmmmmm, that's hot. That's gonna feel so good. K, ready?"
I tried to mumble something back, but warmed lube only crept out the side of my mouth. Luckily I think it was rhetorical as she threw the blanket down on top of me as I began gently licking. Just like that I was in heaven. She tasted of natural feminine juices with a slight hint of the day’s perspiration. My poor Ashley must have really had a long day! Her moans and grinding of her hips urging me on, as well as her little comments of direction here and there.
"Mmmmmmmm, slower. Flick it. Higher. Oh yes, Ryan. Mmmmmmm, fuck. Oh Ryan, Oh Ryannn, mmmmmm”
Ugh, really, him?
It was only a few minutes before her 1st orgasm. I could feel her thighs gently tighten with a delicate moan. I guess she changed her mind about a quick cum, as when I went to get up for air after her 1st release, her hand roughly grabbed my hair by the scalp and re-positioned my face so it was firmly mashed against her pelvis.
My aching erection was painfully pushing against my bikini bottoms and pants. I could feel my poor little penis throb and starting to leak. It was so hot seeing her as she took out her vibrator and pleasured herself as I licked wherever there was space around her movements. Desperate to please her and be useful. This was my chance to impress her, I thought as I licked so hard it ached. It was so cute seeing her comments getting more intense as she got more lost in her own pleasure.
"Fuck yes. Lick me, slut! Uuungh, deeper, I SAID LICK DEEPER! Oh fuck, yes, bitch, just like that. Fucking lick right there. Now lower, LOWER, SLUT”
Sure, I've heard the names the other kids call me at school. Simp, loser, cuck, her bitch. But who else but me gets to see her in these most intimate of moments when she really loses herself.
After another 10 min her thighs clamped down on my head. I could no longer hear anything, I could barely breathe and was trapped in a conjuncture of her sweaty flesh, lube and natural juices. Just as I was preparing to tap out, or succumb to her body, she relaxed. I heard the sound of her vibrator switch off.
Next thing I knew, the sheets were ripped off and I felt the flat bottom of her somewhat sweaty foot on my forehead, pushing me away as I desperately tried to get 1 more glimpse of her most intimate area.
“Mmmm, that was nice.” Ashley rolled off the bed. Still in a daze, I had the most amazing view of her golden, toned ass cheeks. “Well I’m off to shower and then I need some sleep. I’m beat. Did you enjoy your little treat, Davey? You owe me one now!” she said with a wink. "No problem having my history homework done by tomorrow, ya?"
I went to confirm I’d stay up late but my sore and achey tongue just flopped out of my mouth with a “Yeth Asthley. Thatth no pwobrum".
Ashley giggled as she walked out of the room. I watched her butt cheeks bounce as she called over her shoulder “rinse your mouth after you finish whatever my mom needed. That lube stuff might be toxic or something. Can’t have anything happen to my little puppy. But it feels great! I’d get used to that lube taste."
My heart swooned as I drifted downstairs before I continued my night of drudgery. But nothing else mattered. Ashley was happy with me. And she must be satisfied with my oral servitude! She wants to keep it a regular thing!!! She must have really loved it. You know what they say, 1st comes love, then comes marriage!!

Silent Hill 2 looks great. And there is no buts, i've finally watched the trailers to see them in a good morning. And guess what sucker? That morning came, and it feels great to be a starving Silent Hill fan!
I won't write about the original. We know the original, we know it's story. And thinking "um, in the original, you dodge by walking side ways, um, the remake is not loyal" or other excuses to not enjoy a horror game that otherwise costed you 30 dollars.
The gameplay.
Horror has changed and we had changed as well. This new remake has the gameplay of a The Last of Us game. And i think this is great since now that everyone has developed ADHD in the modern era (and some of them brag about it for some reason?) Makes the mayority happy. Unlike games in the past that now would be marked as slow like Resident Evil HD Remastered, Fatal Frame, Silent Hill 2, and the slowest of them all, your mom.
The characters.
I think the voices fits for everyone (although i would've loved for the original voice actors to return for the roles since Guy Cihi, the voice of James is best friends with Laura and Eddie's voice actors) but the new ones fits for their characters. Angela, who god forbid having a bad frame, is still wearing the same clothes (a turtle neck more up to show less skin), still having a shaking voice pitch and still incredibly scare of strangers.
Maria looks good, i was surprised they showed Maria and Laura in the same room (even though most likely Laura couldnt see her in the stairs) the only thing i'd change is the outfit.
And Laura looks a bit older, but i like that now they hint about her not seeing anything paranormal (Hurt by what?) BY THE PIZZA, GIRL! THIS TOWN IS FULL OF IT!
it all fits to be as different to be playable without already knowing what's in every corner, but still familiar so we recognize instantly that place (and hopefully more puzzles and riddles).
I've seen so much hate towards the remake, more than what Konami already did with the franchise. I'd say we enjoy the remake and be glad that this isn't a pachinko Remake like they did with MGS3. And that now we not only are getting a Remake of Silent Hill 2, but new projects and games of Silent Hill, a Remake of Metal Gear Solid 3 and a new GTA game. You know how weird it feels to write this? A. New. GTA.
Anyways, just gotta let this thing off my greasy dorito fingers. Have fun and remember, winners don't do drugs!

This chapter was too long to post as one, so I’m dividing into two parts. Apologies for it being a bit disjointed.
On Thursday morning, after Luke left early for work and Brooke went for a run, I removed from Brooke’s closet the the gossamer jacket I had worn to the Ren fair and put it into the trunk of my Prius along with the canvas shoes and white tights that had completed my humiliating “Little Foot Page” costume. I dared not disappoint Anna a second time.
Fortunately, I didn’t have any punishment writing lines to complete after I cleaned her and Paul’s apartment on Tuesday. Brooke didn’t force me to wear any new feminine accessory that day. She was so fond of the choker that it had become an almost regular part of my daily attire.
As she kissed me goodbye that morning before I left for campus, she fingered the choker and my neck, saying, “I like this on you. Maybe I’ll order another one with a subtle little ring on it.”
I often couldn’t tell when Brooke was joking or not.
“You mean something where someone could attach a leash? Like a slave collar? Please, Brooke. This is bad enough.”
“No, it wouldn’t have to stick out like that. I said ‘subtle,’ didn’t I? The ring could be flat against your neck. That style is very common. It’s sexy. But I do think we can get you a proper collar to wear at home. I’m thinking leather with silver studs and a nice ring in the front. That one will definitely stick out. Luke and I will look for something on-line.”
Again, was she joking or not? She gave me her full, dimpled smile as she spoke, but that didn’t tell me conclusively one way or another. Nevertheless, her smile, her touch and the nature of the conversation all conspired to cause my liberated cock to grow hard in the lace panties I was wearing under my khakis. I was hoping she wouldn’t notice, so she wouldn’t lock me back up; several hours later, I was wishing that she had noticed.
Except for regular cleanings, and one or two supervised, humiliating releases, I had been locked up pretty consistently over the previous 2 1/2 months. Therefore, I truly enjoyed my freedom most of that Thursday. I had an almost incessant erection, fortunately mostly concealed by my khakis (which were looser than most of the pants I was permitted to wear), even while waiting in line to get Neil’s coffee and while walking across campus in a light snow to bring it to his office. The phrase “microaggressions” had become trendy on college campuses such as mine, referring to insensitive comments people make that are discriminatory or insulting, often even without intending to be. As I knocked on the door to Neil’s office, I thought to myself how I was being subjected not to microaggesions at my college, but rather to microhumiliations. Such as fetching Neil’s coffee.
“Come in,” said Neil, through the door.
Remarkably, seated in the one chair across from Neil’s desk was Paul Betz. Yet again! Alarming and suspicious. Or was I simply being paranoid? Neither of them made any effort to get up from their seats.
I was holding the cup of coffee in a paper bag. Feeling like an idiot, I placed the bag on Neil’s desk.
“Thanks for the coffee, pal,” Neil said, as he removed the cup from the bag. “It’s a bit cold.”
“Sorry, it’s snowing out there,” I replied, absurdly, as if it was even remotely somehow my fault that his coffee wasn’t hot.
“No worries. I’ll warm it up in my microwave. Paul and I were just discussing some swimming techniques. Paul’s team has a big meet this weekend. Is it okay if I catch up with you later?”
Paul looked up at me with an arrogant smirk. I thought to myself: how much strategy could there possibly be to discuss? You jump in the pool and you swim.
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
And just like that, I was dismissed. The coffee boy had delivered the coffee and was no longer needed. Why should I care about suffering this microhumiliation in front of Paul, who a few hours later would be subjecting me to any number of macro humiliations? Simply because he was gaining even greater knowledge about me, the nature of my relationships with others in my social circle and the breadth of my submission. Knowledge is power. More knowledge about me, more power over me. Nothing good could possibly come of it.
Paul was his usual arrogant self in class that afternoon, and it was clear that he, Anna and Kelly were all in exaggeratedly good moods, no doubt savoring the thought of interacting with me under radically different circumstances only a few hours later.
Anna was wearing black tights, a short, plaid skirt and black ankle boots. She propped her feet up on the desk in front of her next to Paul’s and said, “Oh, look how dirty my boots are from all the puddles of slush.”
Paul added, “Mine too. Fortunately, our shoeshine boy will be visiting later.”
Kelly sitting two seats to their left, giggled and said, “The cold weather makes me ravenous. What’s for dinner tonight, Anna?”
Anna grinned and answered, “Beef stroganoff. Our shoeshine boy is also an excellent cook, supposedly. A real Renaissance boy.”
“Not a Medieval boy?”, said Kelly. She and Anna both laughed.
Scanning the room, I didn’t believe the other students were picking up on all of the innuendo (or, if they were, I didn’t think they understood what it meant). Nevertheless, one serious female student, not part of Kelly’s clique, looked at me as if to say, “Why are you letting these clowns do and say whatever they want? Why don’t you take control of your classroom?” How I longed to do just that, to put the three of them in their place with some witty remark, as I would have done in the past. The pain of Paul’s spanking on Tuesday still fresh in my mind (if not on my bottom), however, I bit my tongue and timidly began my lecture.
After class, I went to the grocery store to purchase all of the ingredients for Anna’s prescribed menu of beef stroganoff, Italian green beans, and a starter spinach salad with warm bacon dressing (she had even directed me to her preferred recipes on-line — I had tested the salad and dressing on Brooke, with positive reviews). I also purchased the two bottles of not inexpensive red wine specified by Paul.
When I arrived at their condo, holding multiple grocery bags, my nemesis doorman was lying in wait for me, like a snarky Cerberus dressed as a bellhop. My underworld was eleven flights up, however.
“I’m going to apartment 11B. Paul Betz.”
“I have to announce you. Who should I say is calling?”
“The cook. Please tell him the cook is here.”
He spoke into the intercom phone, smirking at me, “Mr. Betz. Someone calling himself the cook is here to visit you. Although I’m pretty sure it’s the same guy who announced himself as the maid on Tuesday. May I send him up?”
Still holding the phone, he then addressed me: “Mr. Betz said they are expecting the maid, not the cook. What should I tell him?”
I sighed. “Please tell him the maid is here.”
“Mr. Betz. He is now no longer pretending to be a cook, but has announced himself as the maid. Very good, sir, I’ll send him right up then.” He put down the phone, his expression more smug by the second, and said, “You may now go up. The elevator…”
I interrupted him. “I know perfectly well where the elevator is, thank you.”
He stopped smirking to glare at me with annoyance for a moment, before resuming his smirk as I entered the elevator with my shopping bags.
When I got to their door, I got down on my knees and waited. Behind the door, I heard talking and sporadic laughter. They only kept me waiting about five minutes that day, and fortunately I was spared any encounters with Paul’s and Anna’s neighbors. It was during those five minutes on my knees, staring down at my cock pushing out my khakis, that I came to the belated realization that it probably wasn’t a good thing to be free of my chastity cage in the circumstances in which I then found myself. As I continued to wait, a sense of panic began to set in, which paradoxically only increased my arousal.
When the door finally opened, I was greeted by Kelly. I was eye level with her short, blue skirt. I looked down at her sheer stocking-encased legs and black, strap-on heels before looking up at her grinning face. She had been wearing jeans in class, but had obviously dressed up for the exciting occasion of being served dinner by her submissive professor. I have not really described Kelly’s appearance much before now, other than to say that she is attractive. Kelly has shoulder length, thick, brown hair and sort of a button nose. She is slender, but not as tall as Anna or Brooke. I would describe her more as cute than truly beautiful like the other two. However, by “cute,“ I don’t want to suggest that Kelly isn’t sexy. She is, but more in a teasing, playful way than the regal Anna. Sometimes it’s those cute, playful ones that you really have to watch out for, I was to learn.
Generally speaking, it occurred to me that, on the cusp of turning 40, I was surrounded by – and subservient to – a number of meaningfully younger people, most of whom were well above average in the looks department. There are a lot of overweight Americans – more in Ohio than in the Northeast, I thought (I’m sure Neil would have said that observation was still further evidence of my elitism) – including a lot of overweight students on my campus. For whatever reason, however, I was this bookish, unathletic guy now surrounded by athletes (Luke, Paul, Anna, Kevin, and even my one contemporary in terms of age, Neil), or fitness freaks (Brooke) or the generally attractive people who they chose to associate with (like Kelly, Laura, and Brooke’s estranged friend, Michelle). Growing up, my social circle tended to consist of the less attractive – the geeks, the nerds, the social outcasts. So, being surrounded by the cool, beautiful people was new for me, and exciting. So much toned, taut young flesh. Of course, I was not, nor am not now, their equal. Not even close. I’m their servant, their lackey, their toy. But that’s part of what makes the dynamic so exciting, so arousing. For me, certainly. But also for most of them, I believe (Brooke excepted; I am confident that there is a lot more depth to our relationship with each other, than to our relationships with all the others).
As I looked up at Kelly, these thoughts running through my head, I consoled myself that at least I wasn’t being subjugated, teased and tormented by physically repulsive people. Remembering Brooke’s advice to go with the flow, I tried to tell myself to be grateful for small favors.
“Hi, Professor Rollins!“, said Kelly, brightly.
“Hi, Kelly,” I sheepishly replied.
“Oh, come now, professor. We’re not in class now. I think the proper way to address me here is Miss Kelly, don’t you agree?”
“Yes, Miss Kelly, of course.”
“You may enter,” she said. Seeing Paul behind her, I remembered to shuffle on my knees into the apartment, bags in either hand.
Paul said, ”What time do you need to be home tonight, Rollins? Where are Luke and Brooke?”
“Thursday night they almost always go out, sir. If you recall, that’s why we picked Thursday evenings for me to…to come here. Luke is taking Brooke out to dinner tonight at a restaurant near his house. The earliest they’ll be home, I think, is around 10:30, unless they decide to spend the night at Luke’s. I’d like to be home by 10, just to be on the safe side, sir, if possible,” I replied.
Kelly said to Paul, “I like the ‘sirs.’ I see that you’ve been training him well.“
“You may leave at 10. That means we have you for 5 hours. Put the food away and then get dressed,” ordered Paul. Anna and Kelly’s boyfriend, Archer, were sitting on the couch in the living room.
“Wait a minute,” said Anna. “Did you bring your Ren fair costume this time?”
“Yes, Princess Anna.”
“‘Princess?’ I really like that. Call me ‘Princess,’ too,” Kelly said to me, giggling.
“Yes, Princess Kelly,” I replied.
Smiling with delight, Kelly asked Archer, “Do you wish him to address you as Prince Archer?”
Archer, who I later learned was Paul’s teammate on the college swimming team, said, “No, he can just call me ‘sir’.”
“You’re no fun,” said Kelly.
“Put on your Little Foot Page costume, professor,” said Anna.
“Hold on,” said Paul. “If he’s serving us dinner, shouldn’t he be dressed as a waitress? Or as a maid? What about the pink uniform Chrissy wears? That’s sort of a waitress maid hybrid,” Paul explained to Archer.
“Or what about the Hooters uniform?”, asked Archer.
“But the Little Foot Page uniform is so cute!”, said Kelly.
Anna said, “Well, everybody seems to have an opinion. The only way to settle this democratically is through a vote. Let’s all write down our top choice on a scrap of paper and toss it into my baseball cap. There are three options and four votes, so there will be a clear winner.”
“I think he should model each uniform first, so we can make an informed decision,” said Archer.
“Great idea, Archer! Who doesn’t love a little, impromptu fashion show? Kelly, please tear up four pieces of paper and get a pen while I show our dear professor where we keep Chrissy’s uniforms,” said Anna.
I listened to this rather extraordinary conversation while still kneeling in the entrance hall. I had managed to will my erection down, at least partially, so had escaped detection for the moment. Obviously, this was only a temporary victory, however.
After being permitted to stand, I first put away the food and then followed Anna upstairs into the dungeon. She opened a closet and pulled out two plastic bags that she draped over the spanking bench.
“Here are the other two uniforms you will model for us. I want you to start with the waitress uniform. Make sure you wear the black stockings and the heels with the dress. And the cap. There are hairpins in the bag you can use to make sure that it doesn’t fall off your head. Once you’re dressed, we’ll be waiting for you in the living room. I expect you to walk the length of the living room, stand before us, curtsy, do a slow 360, face us again and curtsy a second time. Then walk back up here, put on the Hooter’s uniform, and repeat the same steps. Remember to put on the flesh colored pantyhose; they’re what really make the Hooters uniform, don’t you think?”
I had never darkened the doors of a Hooters before, but nodded my ascent.
“Well, the pantyhose along with the white socks and sneakers. You didn’t bring those, did you?”
“No, princess. Besides the shoes I’m wearing, I only brought the canvas shoes I wore to the Ren fair. As you commanded, princess.”
“All the more reason the Hooters uniform just won’t cut it tonight. But we have to humor Archer, don’t we? So, wear your canvas shoes with it. You’ll look preposterous, but that’s the point, I suppose. Right?”
“Yes, princess.”
“You’ll finish with your Little Foot Page uniform. The same steps. That’s my top choice, so make sure that you really sell that one. I’ll be watching closely. If you fail to do any of the steps I just told you, or don’t do any of them satisfactorily, I’ll ask Paul and/or Archer to take you over their knees and spank you, hard, 10 times for each mistake. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Princess Anna.”
She left me in the dungeon to change. Paul’s description of the first uniform was accurate. Imagine a pink maid’s uniform, with a V-neck, black collar, black buttons and a black apron. It came with a matching cap, pink with black trim. After putting on the dress, I rolled the sheer, black stockings up my legs and smoothed out the skirt, my fully erect cock still concealed for the time being beneath it. The short skirt only came down to my mid thigh. I then put on the heels and the cap, fumbling with the hairpins, and regarded myself in the mirror. I was dressed like a fetishized waitress in a retro diner. Could I look any more ridiculous? As I practiced curtsying a few times in front of the mirror, I answered my own rhetorical question.
Worried about keeping my students and Archer waiting, I descended the stairs and followed Anna’s instructions, listening to the strange sound of my heels clicking on the hardwood floor of the living room.
As I curtsied before the four of them relaxing on the couch, Kelly giggled with glee and Paul said, “Now that’s an appropriate uniform for dinner service.”
“It is, yes, but we see Chrissy in it all the time. A little variety is nice,” Anna replied.
As I went through my steps, I watched Anna hold the same little book they had used to record my shortcomings in cleaning – my demerits as they called them – and make notes in it with a pen. That couldn’t be a good thing, I thought to myself, although I was quite certain that I was following her instructions to a T.
After I did my 360° turn, I did a brief second curtsy, as Anna had ordered, but she stopped me as I was turning around to go back upstairs.
“Wait, professor maid. Curtsy to us again, but this time make it a deep curtsy. I want to make sure that you’ve been practicing.“
I did as she commanded, bending my legs, one behind the other, lifting my skirt with my hands and holding the dipped, bowed position for a few seconds before straightening back up.
“What do you think?”, Anna asked Kelly.
“Not too bad for a relative novice, I suppose, although his technique could definitely use some work,” said Kelly.
“Do you hear that, professor maid? You need to spend a lot more time practicing your curtsying. Also, you’re walking in the heels better than on Tuesday, but you’re still pretty unsteady. We expect our servants to be graceful,” said Anna, imperiously, as she made additional notations in her little notebook. “You need to practice walking in heels somewhere besides your time here with us. We do not tolerate on-the-job training here. Got it?”
“Yes, Princess Anna. I understand.”
“Good. Move along now. We need to decide on your uniform so you can start serving us cocktails and hors d’oeuvres.”
I hurried back upstairs as quickly and gracefully as was within my power and changed into the Hooters uniform. I put on the nude pantyhose first, my cock distressingly hard beneath the transparent nylon. So much for further concealing my liberation from chastity! Freedom can be a dangerous thing, I was to soon learn. I next put on the U-shaped, white T-shirt with the big orange letters, the two ‘Os’ doubling as eyes for the owl. The shirt was tight against even my flat chest; I could only imagine what it must’ve felt like to the well endowed women for whom the shirt was designed. Next, I pulled up the skimpy, bright orange shorts, hoping like hell that they might hide my erection. They did quite the opposite, in fact. Made of some synthetic fabric, they were incredibly snug and almost looked like a bikini the way they rode up the side of my legs next to my crotch. The shorts hugged my small balls, the outline of which was readily apparent through the fabric, my cock making a small, but unmistakable protrusion above them. As humiliating as the waitress uniform was, this was worse, I felt. I groaned as I observed myself in the mirror. I then put on my canvas shoes and descended the stairs to begin another degrading catwalk.
Archer laughed and clapped. “Thats fucking hilarious. Look at the loser!”
“Ha ha, look our professor has a little stiffie,” said Kelly, pointing at my crotch and snickering.
Anna said, “Oh, my God. Paul. She’s right. Look! They must’ve taken off his chastity cage.”
Paul said, “Well, this opens up all kinds of new possibilities, doesn’t it?”
“It most certainly does!”, agreed Anna.
This conversation, so intensely humiliating, resulted in my already hard cock twitching beneath the tight orange shorts, growing harder still.
Kelly said, “But he doesn’t have any boobs. What kind of Hooters waitress is that? At least Chrissy is growing boobs, thanks to the hormones.”
As I was curtsying, Paul asked, “What happened to Chrissy’s breast forms?”
Anna answered, “We let her throw them out after she started growing her own tits.“
“Too bad,” Archer replied.
Anna added, “And the whole outfit just doesn’t work without the white tennis shoes and socks. Also, our Hooters girl forgot to do her second curtsy.” As I turned back around to comply, Anna added, “No, no professor pantywaist, it’s too late now. That’s another demerit, I’m afraid. Now hurry along and model your last outfit for us.”
I scampered up the stairs and quickly changed into my Little Foot Page costume from the Ren fair, the one inspired by the Eleanor Fortescue-Brickdale’s painting, a favorite of Brooke’s. How I wished at that moment that it was her I was dressing for instead! The short, nearly transparent jacket barely concealed my cock, jutting out shamefully through my white tights.
Remembering Anna’s insistence that I really “sell” this outfit, I took special care to complete each step to the best of my abilities. I held my back straight and practically pranced into the room and across the living room floor. I held my curtsy longer than usual, somewhere between the duration of a regular curtsy and a deep curtsy.
Both of the girls applauded, gleefully.
“See. The foot page costume is adorable. And it’s unique,” said Kelly.
“But pages don’t serve dinner. Pages do all kinds of other things for their masters, like clean their clothes and shoes, help them get dressed, deliver messages, and so forth,” said Paul.
“Oh you’re such a stickler for authenticity. I’m sure plenty of pages served their masters and mistresses meals as well. They were utility servants, and I’m sure did whatever was required of them,“ said Anna. “Besides, with this uniform, we have the best view of his hard, little cock. Look, it’s fun size!“, she added, pointing.
“With equipment like that, it’s no wonder that his wife cuckolded him,” chuckled Archer.
“From the look of him and his attitude, I’ll bet Luke is hung like a horse. Is that true, professor baby cock?”, asked Anna.
“Yes, Princess Anna,” I answered meekly.
“Look how red his face is!,” said Kelly. “We’re not embarrassing you, are we, professor?”
“Yes…I mean no, Miss…I mean Princess Kelly.”
“Okay, it’s time to vote,” said Anna.
“Why bother. We all know which one will win. Archer will vote for Hooters, I will vote for sissy waitress, and you and Kelly will vote for this silly page costume, inappropriate as it may be,” said Paul, sulkily. “So, the foot page it is.”
“Oh, goody!”, said Kelly, clapping her hands together with delight.
“Time for cocktails! Take everyone’s order,” Paul said to me sternly, seemingly still annoyed that he didn’t get his way.
Paul and Anna had a well equipped bar, so making the drinks was relatively easy. Anna insisted that I curtsy after serving each person. I, of course, would’ve felt ridiculous curtsying under any circumstances, but felt particularly so dressed in my page costume. Paul had a point; there was something incongruous about it. After serving them, I began prepping for dinner in what was truly a chef’s kitchen. The meat needed to simmer for a while to be sufficiently tender.
Anna had shown me a little brass bell that they would use to summon me for drink refills or anything else they desired. I heard it jingling about 20 minutes into my prep work and hurried back into the living room.
Paul said, “Archer and I are ready for refills.”
“Yes, sir.”
“From now on, curtsy every time you enter or leave a room any of us are in, and every time any of us gives you an order,” Anna interjected.
“Yes, princess,” I said, curtsying as I took their glasses.
By the time I returned a few minutes later with Paul’s and Archer’s fresh old fashioneds, curtsying again, Anna was also ready to for new martini. Of course, by the time I returned with her martini, Kelly was finally ready for her second cosmopolitan. Would this ever end?, I wondered. How would I ever have time to prepare the rest of dinner?
Fortunately, rather than request a third old-fashioned Paul said to the others, “Let’s go for a swim.” I was back in the kitchen working when the four of them left the apartment to take the elevator down to the building’s large indoor pool. Things got more interesting about an hour later when my young superiors returned to the apartment in their bathing suits.