Hello everyone! My partner has recently come out as trans and we have been working on helping her to find confidence.
Right now she is very nervous about going out in public, as we live in a politically red area of Oregon. She's worried about someone confronting her because she "doesn't pass well enough". I want to help her with this as much as I can.
We want to spend a day in Portland getting her hair styled (it's currently shoulder length and needs a cut/styling that will look good as it grows out), getting eyebrows done, and trying to find a few casual outfits, as most of the female clothing we have now is primarily skirts that are a little too short because of height.
So, does anyone have any salon recommendations for hair and eyebrows that are MTF trans friendly and will take good care of her? Also, any recommendations for taller clothing shops would be great, as she is 6'1" and about 215lbs and it's been hard to find fem clothes that are tall but not bulky.
Thank you all!

The Hedgewitch of Huntington

(Fairy Dust - Book 1)

By J. S. Lynch

Chapter 1: Alex

Alex stared out the window of the Greyhound bus, watching the scenery change from urban to rural. She saw nothing but a blur of green and brown as if someone had smeared a dirty paintbrush across a canvas, with the occasional flash of red and yellow breaking the mottled monotony. Coupled with the drone from the bus’s AC and with the steady rumble of the tires on the blacktop, it would almost be enough to lull her to sleep. Except, she wouldn’t let herself fall asleep. The last time she dozed off, she had a nightmare: her mother being dragged away screaming by men in white coats. Technically, that was a memory, but at least she could force herself to not think about it while she was awake.
The scent of gasoline and sweat permeated the air. Alex’s mouth felt dry, and her saliva tasted bitter. She knew she had a bottle of water in her backpack, but it was too much of a hassle to dig it out from under her seat. Someone behind her sneezed.
Gross.
The air felt so stale and suffocating. She wished she could just open her window and get some fresh air. When she tried to pull it open earlier, the window jammed, leaving it just open enough to create a disproportionately annoying whistle for the rest of the trip. Alex was pretty sure the rock-hard seat digging into the back of her legs would leave a bruise. She felt trapped. She felt like a prisoner, being transferred to death row.
But maybe she deserved it; after all, this was her fault. It was her fault that her mom was gone; it was her fault that she was now on a bus to nowhere. Guilt warred with bitterness in Alex’s heart. On the one hand, she had just left behind everything she knew in Baltimore: her mother, her home, her school, her friends. On the other hand, it’s not like she had that many friends. Or a real home. Or a good school. Or a loving mother. But still, it was familiar. It was hers. And Alex had just flushed it all down the drain.
And now she was heading to Huntington, West Virginia, to live with a stranger. A stranger who just happened to be her biological father. A stranger who had abandoned Alex and her mother before she was even born. A stranger who had no idea who Alex really was, much less what he was getting himself into.
Alex glanced at the woman sitting next to her. Ms. Jones, a kind-faced woman with mocha skin and dark, curly hair that seemed to have a mind of its own, sat, sorting through some papers and humming to herself. She had a gentle voice and a friendly energy, but Alex didn’t trust her. Alex didn’t dislike her, she just couldn’t trust someone who acted as if they cared just “oh, so much.” But Ms. Jones was there to help her- she knew that. She was Alex’s caseworker and had been nothing if not kind to her since her mom had been committed.
Ever since I got her committed.
She stopped that train of thought immediately. There wasn’t much point, thinking about that now.
“Are you okay, Alex?” Ms. Jones asked, noticing Alex’s waning gaze.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Alex lied. She wasn’t, but it’s not like that mattered.
“We’ll be there soon,” Ms. Jones said, trying to sound reassuring. “Your father will be waiting for us at the bus station. I’m sure he’s very excited to meet you.”
“Yeah, sure he is,” Alex muttered under her breath.
Ms. Jones sighed and turned back to the folder on her lap, rifling through the papers.
“Here are some documents I will need you to look over,” she said, handing Alex a few papers. “They’re just formalities. You can look them over now, or we can go over them together once we meet up with your dad.”
Alex took the papers and scanned them briefly. They seemingly covered details about how the transfer would be expected to go and how CPS would follow up to ensure Alex was adjusting well and being taken care of. After skimming the papers for a few minutes and pretending to skim them even longer, Alex passed them back to Ms. Jones, who smiled and slipped them neatly into her folder. Alex gave her a tight-lipped smile in return.
“Thank you, Alex,” she said. “You’ve been very cooperative. I appreciate that.”
“No problem,” Alex said, shrugging and looking away.
Ms. Jones checked her watch and looked out the window.
“We should reach the rest stop in a few minutes,” she said. “Are you hungry? Do you want to get something to eat?”
“No, I’m okay,” Alex said, shaking her head. She couldn’t eat even if she wanted to. Her stomach felt like she had swallowed a brick of lead.
“Well, okay. Maybe later then,” Ms. Jones replied.
“Sure.”
Alex closed her eyes and pressed her head against the window, the pane of glass a little warmer than the air. Everything was just too overwhelming. There were too many noises, too many people. Too many thoughts and feelings were running through her head, not all of them her own. Occasionally, she would catch a glimpse, a fragment of a foreign thought or memory, or a quick stab of a random emotion. It was exhausting. It was painful. Alex wished they would all just shut up and leave her alone.
— — —
The intercom crackled, snapping Alex out of her stupor. The bus driver’s voice came through it, a rich and gravelly sound as if she had been smoking a pack a day since birth. It was weirdly comforting.
“Attention, passengers, we’ll be stopping soon to fuel up and let everyone stretch their legs. Please stay seated until the bus comes to a complete stop,” She intoned in a practiced-if-exasperated cadence. “We will be stopped for twenty-five minutes, and any passenger not on the bus by the time I close the doors will be left behind.”
As the driver spoke, Alex opened her eyes and looked around. They were pulling into the parking lot of some podunk truck stop in some nowhere-town.
“Would it have killed them to stop somewhere a little nicer?” Alex muttered to herself sarcastically.
As the bus rolled to a stop, Ms. Jones tapped Alex on the shoulder.
“Come on, Alex,” she said with a gentle smile. “Let’s go stretch our legs and get some fresh air.”
Alex nodded and followed her to the front of the bus. They stepped off the bus and into the gas station’s parking lot. It was a small, shabby place with a few pumps and a convenience store. An unlit sign read “Tony’s.”
Ms. Jones took out her wallet and handed Alex some money.
“Here, take this,” she said. “At least get yourself a snack or something to drink, okay? I’ll be right back.”
She then marched double-time toward the restroom, leaving Alex alone.
Alex looked at the money in her hand and felt a surge of bitterness. She didn’t need her pity or her charity- she didn’t want it. Stuffing the money in her pocket, she looked around at the people milling about the gas station: a couple of truck drivers filling up their tanks, a family with kids buying snacks at the store, a young woman with a dog sitting on a bench.
Alex wondered what their lives were like. Where were they going? Where did they come from? What sort of things did they care about? What kind of secrets were they keeping?
I could find out…
She glanced back toward the bus. The door was open and the driver was nowhere to be seen. Alex figured she would probably be smoking behind the store.
Walking toward the road, Alex stared at the cars and trucks rushing past along the highway. She could try to flag someone down and hitchhike. Or maybe she could pay someone at the gas station to give her a ride, to take her somewhere else. Somewhere far away from here. She retrieved the crumple bills Ms. Jones gave her from her pocket. Ten bucks. Alex sighed and put the money away. Maybe if she just made a run for it? Alex wondered how long it would take for Ms. Jones to come back.
Alex took another step toward the edge. Then she stopped, hesitating.
“How long would it be before anyone noticed I was gone? Would anyone even care?”
She stared down at the speeding traffic, the creeping realization that she had nowhere else to go pressing on her mind. She had nowhere to go, no one who cared about her, and there was nothing she could do. Nothing except go to Huntington and meet Noah.
She tried to swallow but found her mouth still dry. There wasn’t any point in trying to run away, not anymore.
Resigned, Alex walked back toward the store. She might as well use that ten bucks.
— — —
As she entered, she was greeted by a blast of cold air and a jingling bell. The store was small and cramped, with shelves full of junk food, drinks, magazines, cigarettes, and lottery tickets. A TV mounted on the wall played some news channel.
She wandered around the store, looking at the items with little interest. She didn’t want anything, but she figured that buying something would at least get Ms. Jones off her back. Maybe just a candy bar or a soda.
She picked up a chocolate bar and examined it. A thin film of dust covered the wrapper. It must have been older than she was. Dropping it, she moved to the coolers. She scanned the shelves, but nothing looked good.
She wandered the aisles, eventually picking up a magazine. It was one of those gossip rags that had pictures of celebrities and their scandals. Flipping through it, she saw a headline that read “Hollywood’s Hottest Couples: Who’s In and Who’s Out?” She rolled her eyes and tossed it back on the rack.
She felt the faintest hint of a prickling at the back of her mind, barely an itch. Someone was watching her. Looking up, she saw a girl standing at the other end of the aisle, near the counter. The girl was about Alex’s age, maybe a year or two older. She had long blonde hair that fell in waves over her shoulders, blue eyes that sparkled like diamonds, and a perfect smile that showed off her white teeth. She wore a pink tank top that hugged her curves, denim shorts that showed off her legs, and flip-flops that matched her top. She had a silver necklace around her neck and a gold bracelet on her wrist. She looked like she had stepped out of one of those magazines Alex had just discarded.
The girl was holding a bottle of water and a pack of gum. She smiled at Alex and said, “Hi.”
Alex managed a meek “Hi” before quickly walking away, her cheeks burning red.
She felt like she had just seen everything she wasn’t, someone who was beautiful, confident, and happy.
Alex looked down at herself and felt ashamed. She wore an old T-shirt that was too big, jeans that were too tight, and sneakers that were too worn. Her face was plain; her short brown hair was messy and dull and desperately needed to be cut. She wore no makeup or jewelry except for a cheap watch that barely worked.
She headed towards the restroom at the back of the store. She needed to get away from everyone and everything for a while.
The women's restroom was occupied, so she slipped into the men's room instead, locking the door behind her. The room was small and dirty, with a sink, a toilet, a mirror, and a trash can. There was graffiti on the walls and stains on the floor. It reeked of piss and 409.
She felt exhaustion and despair wash over her and walked over to the sink and turned on the faucet. She splashed water on her face and stared into the mirror. Tired, brown eyes stared back at her. She saw a girl who looked lost and powerless. A girl who had no control over her life. A girl who had no future.
She hated what she saw.
She wished she could change it.
She wished she could change everything.
— — —
Back on the bus, she sat quietly, listening to music on her iPod Nano. It was three more hours before they reached Huntington. Ms. Jones tried making small talk a few times, but Alex wasn’t in the mood. The minutes, hours passed. Alex woke with a start when Ms. Jones shook her, not realizing she had even fallen asleep. At least she didn’t have the dream this time. Small blessing.
“Sorry, Alex, I didn’t mean to startle you. We’re here,” came Ms. Jones’ voice, muffled through Alex’s headphones.
Alex stopped her music, got up, and followed Ms. Jones off the bus, resigned to whatever fate awaited her. The bus station was small and crowded, with only a few benches and ticket counters. The air was thick with the smell of exhaust fumes and stale coffee. Alex looked around at all the people scurrying about. She idly wondered which one of them was her father. Obviously, not the angry mom arguing with the clerk. Not the little boy crashing toy cars together at her feet. Hopefully, it wasn’t the raggedy, older gentleman sleeping with his head on his suitcase. She figured it probably wasn’t the black guy in his early twenties playing games on a DS.
She wondered what he would look like, what he sounded like, what he acted like. She almost started to wonder if he would be anything like her mom but stopped herself, digging her nails into her palms.
Ms. Jones took out her phone and loaded a picture of Alex’s father. She scanned the crowd for his face, looking anxious. The older woman showed the picture to Alex and asked her to help look for him.
A wave of disappointment crashed into Alex when she saw it. He was a middle-aged man with brown hair and blue eyes. He had a scruffy beard and a crooked smile. He wore a work jacket and a faded blue Baltimore Ravens baseball cap. He looked like a loser.
“See him yet?” Ms. Jones asked after a few minutes of searching.
“Nope,” Alex said, shaking her head.
“Well, he was supposed to meet us here at the station,” Ms. Jones said, looking displeased. “-holding a sign with your name on it.”
Alex looked around again but didn’t see anyone with a sign. “Maybe he’s late,” Alex said, secretly hoping he wouldn’t show.
“Maybe,” Ms. Jones said, sounding doubtful.
Ms. Jones sighed and put away her phone. She put her hand on Alex’s shoulder with a gentle squeeze.
“Hey,” she said softly, “how are you feeling? Are you okay? Are you nervous?”
Alex shrugged off Ms. Jones’ hand and looked away.
“I'm fine,” she said, maybe a little too irritably.
Ms. Jones frowned and tried again.
“Alex, I know this is hard for you. Believe me. I know you’ve been through a lot. But this is a chance for you to start over. To have a family again.”
Something in Alex snapped.
“A family!? Do you really think I’m gonna live a Brady Bunch life with this guy? He left before I was even born! He didn’t even know I existed until, what? A few weeks ago?”
Ms. Jones opened her mouth to say something, but Alex cut her off.
“Just stop it,” she said bitterly. “I don’t wanna hear your promises about how I’m gonna have this perfect fairytale life from now on, okay? I’m just so sick of everyone lying to me!”
Ms. Jones closed her mouth and looked hurt.
“Alex,” she said softly. “I’m not lying to you. Please, just trust me on that. I won’t promise that everything is gonna be okay from now on ‘cause I have no idea how it’ll turn out. But you’re one of the toughest kids I know, Alex, and I know how much you’ve been hurt. You deserve a chance to start over and have an easy life, and this guy might be able to give you that. He signed the paperwork saying he wanted to be your parent, so can you at least give him a chance to try?”
Alex felt her rage falter like a rug had been pulled out from beneath her. It was weird to hear Ms. Jones speak so honestly, and it had disarmed her. Alex felt a little embarrassed- ashamed, really.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” Alex sputtered out with a sigh. “You’re right.”
“And if he turns out to be a jerk, I’ll let you help me kick his ass, okay?” Ms. Jones said with a conspiratorial smile. “We got a deal?”
“Deal,” replied Alex, with her own small smile.
“Now, where the hell is he?” huffed Ms. Jones as she began to look around again.
“Maybe he died,” Alex said with a wicked smirk and a shrug.
Ms. Jones grimaced and shook her head. She checked her phone, noticing a missed call from her office. She hurriedly punched in a phone number and hit the call button. A staticky voice picked up on the other end. Alex couldn’t hear what the other agent was saying, but she could tell by Ms. Jones’ expression that it wasn’t good news.
The older woman frowned and began to pace. Alex only heard Ms. Jones’s side of the conversation, “What? How? Why? Oh, gosh. What do we do now? Another placement? Okay. Alright. Thank you, I’ll talk to her..”
She ended the call and looked at Alex with a sad and sorry smile.
“Alex,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I have some bad news.”

Chapter 2: Noah

A hateful sound, like that of a tone-deaf bell with a personal vendetta, jolted Noah awake. He shot up and immediately regretted it when a searing headache threatened to split his head open. Vertigo overtook him, and he had to fight down… whatever he had eaten last night. A barbed wire and sour milk stew? That was his best guess, based on the pain in his gut. He heaved. With his eyes shut so tight that it started to hurt, Noah took a very, very deep breath.
And then another.
And then another.
Slowly, he tried to open his eyes. Why am I on the ground? Noah blinked away the spots, rotating his head at a glacial pace. When his eyes finally focused, he saw Doris, a plump, older woman who worked at the-
Shit.
He finally noticed the metal bars separating him and Doris. Judging by the way she swiveled her head and smiled, Doris had noticed him noticing the bars. She took a satisfied sip from her big, metal mug. She had a glossy name badge hanging from a Bengals lanyard that read “Dispatcher.” Noah squinted when it caught the light.
“Heeyy, you. You finally awake? Get enough beauty rest?” She asked in her lilting, sing-song tone, which Noah learned long ago meant she was being condescending.
“Doris. What the hell happened?” Noah asked as he gently shifted to a sitting position. “What time is it?”
“It’s just after nine.” She answered. Then with a snort, she added: “And you got your ass beat, that’s what happened.”
“That doesn’t sound like me,” Noah said with a small laugh.
Then the amusement left her eyes. A frown settled on her face as she tilted her head ever so slightly upward. “What the hell, Noah? Why are you here?”
“I- I don’t know,” Noah shook his head. Bad idea. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean is: you’re a thirty-four-year-old man, not some frat boy, so why the hell are you getting into bar fights?”
Oooohh…
The previous night’s events slowly returned to him, meandering through his hazy mind. He had gone out drinking, and a fight broke out. He had been hit, so he hit back. And then he got hit again. And again. Which probably explained why everything hurt so much.
“It wasn’t my fault- some asshole punched me. I was just defending myself.”
“Yeah, I know. Bill and them got the security footage about two hours ago,” Doris huffed, seeming annoyed.
Bill was the local police chief, a pudgy, straight-laced kinda guy. Noah didn’t strictly dislike Bill. He knew the man was just doing his job, but he also knew he and Bill wouldn’t be sharing a milkshake with two straws anytime soon.
Doris continued: “They watched the video, took a statement from anyone sober enough to talk, and booked the guys who started the brawl. Everyone else is getting processed out.”
“What about me?” Asked Noah as he wiggled, trying to crack his spine.
“You’re toward the bottom of the list, and they’re short-staffed today, so it’s gonna be awhile.” Her demeanor softened. After a short pause, she sighed and added: “I’ll let ‘em know you’re awake. Someone will grab you and take your statement.”
“Thanks, Doris. Have I ever told you how much I love and appreciate you?” Noah teased.
Doris frowned, and Noah got the sinking feeling he had just made a mistake.
“Didn’t you have something important to do today?” She asked with a chiding undertone.
“What? No. I don’t think-” Then the memory resurfaced and hit Noah like a brick.
Shit.
“Shit.” Blurted Noah as he scrambled to his feet and to the bars. “Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit! Doris, I fucked up. You gotta let me outta here!”
“You know I can’t do that, Noah,” Doris said, flinching when Noah grabbed the bars. “Why? What’s going on?”
“My kid! I was supposed to pick up my kid today!” Noah shouted. He slowly sank to the ground, muttering to himself. “Oh, my god. Doris. Oh my god, this isn’t good. I’m so screwed.”
— — —
Noah stared down the clock on the wall, and the clock stared back, ticking, unblinking. A tiny part of Noah’s mind acknowledged how this felt like one of those stand-offs from old cowboy movies. If the rest of his mind hadn’t been focusing on stopping him from blowing a hole in the wall and running away, he probably would have been screaming his head off, trying to get someone to let him out.
Instead, Noah sat and waited. And waited. Watching the seconds tick slower just to spite him. He was seated on the bench, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped in front of his mouth.

summer started like a few days ago and I have few signs of puberty, i have slight pubic hair but im really short (5'0 at 13) and i have a squeaky voice, i just wanted to know what the chances are i go back to school at a normal height or is that gonna take a year before im normal sized

So i‘ve had my boy for 9 months now (he‘s 11 months old) and he just HATES cuddling or being pet most of the time. Like it is obvious he is letting us pet him but he doesn‘t necessarily enjoy it, however he despises cuddling like if you lay next to him he will immediately get up and lay down again 1 meter away. He is a british short hair btw. When he was a kitten he used to sleep in my lap and on my chest, although that behaviour ceased after a few weeks. He has a cat tower in my room where he used to sleep every night, now he hasn‘t slept there in 2 weeks. He just wants to play all day and the most affection we get from him is a headbutt once every few days. Also we are a 4 person household so he gets A LOT of attention. He also usually ignores you even if you talk to him or try to pet him (he does that thing where he lowers his body where the hand is at on him)
So my question is, is this just a phase? Or is this just his personality and he was only clingy as a baby? I will move out in 1-2 years and I will take him with me and my family keeps telling me that he will become more clingy then since he will not have so many people to give him attention. I just miss when he used to sit/sleep in my lap. Now he just grunts if I don‘t play with him lol (I play with him at least an hour every day and my family does too but that‘s not enough lol). I love him so much I‘m just afraid that I am bothering him somehow. Oh yea one more thing, he seems scared of beds? As a baby he used to sleep in our beds, now he refuses to even sit on them. Could we overwhelm him somehow?

As a tomboy, i find it cool to see other tomboys in music :-) Thus, do you know any women musicians with short hair and a "masc" style? I already,know these bands, but i would be happy to know about more!

Hi, I am a pan genderfluid AFAB aromantic person with CPTSD who is starting to date non-men more seriously. I just want to stress that I understand this is a trigger and not any sort of judgement. Hoping this will be a safe space to discuss this and that perhaps someone might be able to relate. Not all of it is directly relevant to this sub, but I tried posting this in one of the trauma support-subs and I think it is difficult for cishet people to really understand what I'm saying.
I would also appreciate if people did not suggest therapy. It's part of my long-term plan, but I have therapy trauma and am not emotionally ready to return to it at this point.
I'm starting to come across a decent number of people who kind of trigger me and remind me of my abusive mom. My mom never wears makeup, had short hair, and typically wears men's clothes, to the point where she will often be misgendered as a man, which she sometimes enjoys. I'm very certain she is autistic. She would also be obsessed with gender norms growing up, frequently talking about how she doesn't understand or fit in with other women, but also projecting all of her warped/fetishized ideas of idealized femininity onto me to a very extreme extent. Obviously a big portion of this is abusive (ties into her parentification, spousification, covert incest - whooole other post) but I find that many autistic people often puzzle over these social norms, make generalizations about allistic/NT women, or struggle with certain social boundaries.
I'm also in a weird place where I'm trying to break down the role autism has played in my life as an allistic person because my mom is autistic, but so was my sibling who I was responsible for my entire childhood and am extremely close to. I think it's led to me having a decent number of autistic people in my life who I've had uneven relationships (not just romantic) with. I also am not sure how much my mother's perception of gender norms has affected my own gender identity, but it gives me the ick to think about it.
I'm dating nonmongamously and also part of the kink community, so a lot of people in it are autistic and/or gender non-conforming, and people who remind me of this part of my abusive mom come up more frequently than you'd expect. I'm having a really hard time dissecting it and figuring out how to navigate this because it obviously is a trauma thing and I am genderfluid and neurodiverse myself, so I don't want to set up a double standard. I definitely get a lot more triggered in a romantic/sexual context rather than a platonic one.

Book cover
The Archipelago publishes every Wednesday. See the pinned comment for links to the contents.
-----------------------------------
I tied the boat up to a small jetti, somewhat relieved Alessia couldn’t see the knot I hastily threw together, and pulled myself up onto the platform.
Already I could feel a degree of exhaustion. The short row to the shore had already eaten away at the atrophied muscles in my arms. Still, the impatience in my brain had won out. It needed exercise more than my body needed rest.
While I built up some reserves of energy, I took in my surroundings. I hoped to find an islander on a break, idly waiting by the sea, and who might want to talk about Vexids. But while the port didn’t seem busy, anyone I could see was engaged in a task. Porters carried textiles - mostly wool and cotton - off to waiting traders, sellers and buyers negotiated with the waiting boats down by the dock, but no one was stopped. Usually, beyond trade, ports were a place where you’d find those relaxing, finding peace in the coming and going of the waves. But here, there were none.
“Can I help you?” I turned to see a woman in her mid-thirties bounding towards me with almost excessive enthusiasm.
“Yes. I’m just visiting. I came on the large ship.” I tilted my head towards the Deer Drum boat, floating off the coast like an island of its own
“Ah excellent. Another from Deer Drum. Welcome. Can I introduce you to our island? Maybe give you a tour?” She grinned wide, as though pulling her own cheeks back with hooks.
The woman’s overt enthusiasm felt abrasive against my own lethargy. An ache ran across my back. “I would love to understand more.” The words felt stiff, my vocal chords still stretching into shape. “We may have to move slowly though, I’ve been recovering from an injury.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” the woman replied with the same tone and smile. “Well, if you want to learn more about the island, you’re in luck. My name is Endesha. My passion is sharing the island’s history with others, and I’m on my passion rotation right now. ”
“Passion rotation?”
“Yes. Are you familiar with our island at all?” She said, clasping her hands together by her stomach.
“Honestly, nothing. I know a couple of the islanders have been here. One girl in particular, fifteen years old.” I held up my hand out about Mirai’s height. “I hear she’s visited a lot and likes the place. But no idea beyond that.”
Endesha looked up, searching her memory. “Ah, yes. Mirai. Brilliant young woman. I’ve met her a few times. Fits right in here, a mind like that.” She said, pointing a finger. “Well, maybe we can walk to the town square, it’s only a short walk, and I’ll tell you a bit more about our history on our way.”
I nodded in agreement, and Endesha held up an arm to guide the way. She led me up through the town past beige stone structures till we arrived at a long, thin building. Inside I could hear the thrum of machines, the thudding so loud it threatened to topple the aged and cracked walls. Endesha pointed to an engraving; old eroded numbers that read 7-7-10.
“This is one of the oldest buildings in the work part of town. And it celebrates our most important rule.” Endesha looked at it with reverence. “When The Archipelago formed, those here felt that too many had died living wasteful lives, never doing what made them truly happy. And so beaame the law.” She began counting each point on her fingers. “Seven hours of work, our sacrifice to keeping the island running and ensuring we have food to eat. Seven hours to rest, eat and sleep.” She leaned in, her mouth grinning with delight. “And ten hours to chase our passions, and become the best people we can be.”
“You only work for seven hours? The other seventeen are all yours?”
“To be the best we can be.” She corrected me with a wagged finger. “The whole town is separated into three sectors. Here, near the harbour, is our industry, to the North we have the homes where people live and sleep, and to the east, is the true treasure of the island. The drive sector.” She turned and jolted with purpose, drawn eastwards by the sector’s mere mention. My legs strained to keep up, joints unsteady and unsure. “I’ve spent a fair amount of time pouring over the documents from the island’s founding and how they describe the old world. There are old descriptions of people watching moving pictures, or making men and women move with hand-held controllers just for fun. They use the term *to kill time*. Can you believe that? To kill time.”
I thought of the many times on Alessia’s boat, on a relatively still day, when I would simply sit on the edge, watching peaceful waves roll by. “I… I think we might still do that?”
“Not here.” Endesha said, her arms outstretched, allowing a broad chest to bellow the words out. “Tell me, Ferdinand. When are you happiest?”
“What?” I said, my feet almost tripping on the words.
“When do you feel happy?”
I tried to go through a list. The drunken walk back to our property on Talin Barier with Alessia. Singing songs with the Deer Drum crew. When Alessia gave me my room on the boat. So many came back to Alessia. Too many. “I’m not sure,” I said, still dodging the truth even to a stranger. “People maybe?”
“Even in the old world people spoke of having a calling. Something they wanted to do - not for glory or riches, but for the love of the task. Pursuing that is where happiness lies. Sure, you can be fine sitting about on a warm sunny day…” She waved an arm dismissively. “But real contentment lies in what drives us, what fascinates us. Don’t you agree?”
A small smile flickered across my lips as I remembered my own calling. While the chase of the Citadel on Kadear had been intoxicating, travelling the Archipelago had been more than a want. Happiness that lifted your chest as well as your lips. “I’m beginning to.”
Her already huge smile gained an extra lift at my agreement. “Then is it not the duty of this - or any island, to help you achieve those dreams? To push you to do what you are capable of.” She prodded my chest with a hard finger. “That is what those ten hours are for. To chase what drives you. To become what you are capable of. Not for the island, but for yourself.”
The conversation paused as the road widened out into a large town square. In the middle was a wooden stage made of varnished pine. It was low enough that you could step up to it with a good leap, but wide enough to hold a good thirty or forty people if required.
“We have a bit of a ritual that comes with those passions,” Endesha chuckled, staring at the platform. “I took a while to understand it, I had to go through pages and pages of correspondence among the island’s first council members. However, what they realised is that one of the most important parts of chasing your passions is to acknowledge them. To state your dreams aloud and not cower from them.”
It made sense. So many times I had stared at that map in my home in Kadear. But other than brief conversations with Thomas my wishes of travelling were hidden. Only external events brought that desire out of the darkness.
Endesha walked towards the stage. I could almost see the years of the residents who had taken to the stand in her eyes. “Between the ages of fifteen and sixteen, all residents come here to declare their passion in front of the island. I came here,” she pointed to each individual invisible attendee. “I told them I wanted to learn about the history of Vexids Receives and share it with visitors. And in attending, they told me that they would help me, push me in pursuit of that passion.” She turned to me, her smile reverential. “In a few weeks, the next group will take to that stage. And you can be certain I will be witness to their proclamations.”
I thought about what I would’ve said on such a stage. How much easier would my travels have been if I had had to declare that drive to my fellow islanders, and they in turn were duty bound to help me pursue it?
Endesha meanwhile was telling me about the history of the stage. The details of when it was first built and the repairs done to it over the years, and how it intertwined with the rest of the planned town. But the dates and minutia weren’t the reason for the smile on my face. It was the growing understanding of this place, and the freedom to give yourself not just to your island, or your own greed and vices, but to what called you.
It seemed to shake off some of the lethargy in my bones, and when Endesha asked if I wanted to continue on to the see the passion sector, I obliged.
We made our way east, as Endesha regaled me with the founders’ foresight in the layout. A series of workshops each in their own courtyard, their entrances facing inward. Each one had large wooden shutters at the back and front the entire width of the building save for a small doorway at the end. The lack of warmth in Winter was a price worth paying for the community the openness created.
We turned and entered into one of the courtyards as I was met with the output of people’s hobbies: the sound of sandpaper grated across wood, the tune of an accordion pushing notes through its pipes. I could smell the aroma of old books, in between the wafts of fresh paint.
The sights and sounds were a melody somehow borne of cacophony. No thread connected each space. Each room was home to a different activity. All the island did was give space for them to grow. And yet, the end result seemed harmonious.
I watched a woman placing red hot metal into a great furnace, while next door another folded dough, flour pluming into the air each time the bread hit the table.
Creaking metal snatched my attention. Atop one of the rooms to the left was a small windmill. Rusted iron blades oscillated with each rotation, but still it turned in the light breeze. From its base, a slew of cables ran down the roof disappearing through a hole near the edge. Looking into the shadowy room I could see two figures. A middle aged man, with curly balding hair, and a teenage girl.
“Mirai!” I called out.
Mirai looked up, two wires in one hand, and a tool in the other. “Ferdinand! You made it off the ship.”
“Eir finally let me go.”
Mirai put the wires down on a bench and pointed to the man behind her. “This is Charles. Charles, this is Ferdinand. He helped us move from Deer Drum.”
The man took off a pair of thick, leather gloves and reached out to shake my hand. His face was blotched, and there were a few wrinkles across his brow. But his cheeks were taut and youthful. “Good to meet you. Welcome to my electrical shop.”
“Charles does electrical engineering as his passion,” Mirai said, jumping in to add more information. “He’s built so many things. Small engines, toys… every workshop in this courtyard has electric lights now thanks to Charles.” She pointed to the bulb hanging from dangled wiring above.
“I’m no genius. But I’ve got pretty good over the years.” Charles said, thumbs tucked into the straps of his overalls.
Mirai continued. “He’s currently trying to get a windmill working. He could power the whole island off wind power alone.”
“It used to be a common form of electrical power in the old world,” Endesha added, stepping between us. “I believe there may be the odd island in the Archipelago where it exists, but it would be a serious boon to have it here.”
Charles grinned but bowed his head.
“Charles has been letting me help out for the past few days. Soldering cables, testing currents, that kind of thing,” Mirai beamed.
“She’s been a great help. Hard to try and fix the turbine on the roof and measure the currents down here at the same time,” Charles added with a chuckle.
“It’s amazing. I’ve been sitting on that boat for months just watching the oceans roll by,” Mirai stretched out the words so they were as boring as a flat, windless sea. “I designed that one fish net, but other than that I haven’t got to do anything. But, Ferdinand, I love this stuff.”
“I’m glad it’s going so well,” I smiled.
Suddenly she snapped her fingers. “Here, let me show you something.” She turned, leaping between tables, before returning with a series of wires that connected a lightbulb to a small metal box with a wooden handle. “I made this. Turn the handle.”
I looked at her hesitantly.
“Go on.”
It was only the width of my palm, but still, the small pole was hard to turn.
Mirai laughed. “Harder. You’ll have to go faster.”
My muscles were still wasted and weak from the Anmanion islands, and even this small chore was causing my arm to ache. However, for Mirai’s sake, I put in more effort, pushing past the resistance, until the wheel span faster and I saw a small flicker of light from the bulb. The spark invigorated me, and I cranked harder until a soft yellow glow from the bulb rose and dimmed with each shift of my arm. We all watched the light for a few seconds, until the stiffness in my wrist returned and I had to stop.
“Mirai, that’s amazing.” I smiled, shaking off the aches.
“I mean, it’s nothing compared to what Charles has done.” Mirai looked to the side, turning her cheeks. “But it’s a start.”
“It’s an excellent start,” I nodded.
The enthusiasm came back. “I just love this stuff so much. I wish I could do it forever.”
“You could,” Endesha interrupted.
All heads turned to her.
“Anyone can join Vexids Receives over the age of fifteen. It was one of the rules created by the island’s founders. All you have to do is declare your passion during the ceremony.”
I felt my teeth grit, watching this stranger so ignorant of Mirai and her world. Mirai’s face lit up. “When’s the next ceremony!?”
“About three weeks’ time.” Endesha replied, ignoring my grimace.
Mirai’s eyes glossed over, filled with an idyllic vision. “I can keep doing this? I can stay?”
-------------------------------------
The Archipelago publishes every Wednesday. See the pinned comment for links to the contents.

Here's a very informative post because I'm very serious about finding the right person for me. I've clearly marked and categorized everything, so feel free to skim the parts that interest you the most.
What brings me to reddit for dating: For the short of it, I've been doing online dating for about 7 years, and could only describe my experience as a sisyphean struggle. With more traditional dating platforms having been absolutely worthless and a complete waste of time less than productive, I'm hoping this might give me a breakthrough.
Age: 26, open to 18-32~. I’m less about age, more about attraction.
Appearance: 5'8", medium length blond hair (pictures are from when it was short), blue eyes, white skin, slim fit body type. I dress almost exclusively in black if I can help it, hence "closeted goth". I've been told I'm fairly handsome, but I'm including a few (poorly taken) pictures, so you can decide for yourself whether or not I've been lied to!
(Imgur seems to be having problems lately so if you're getting an error that's why. My posts tend to get automatically removed if I include any other image hosters but if you message me I can send alternatives no problem.)
Face: https://imgur.com/a/ykiCkwQ
Body (Warning: Shirtless): https://imgur.com/a/zO96e63
Interests: Many of my interests fall into the "nerd" category. Games (video and tabletop), anime, music, art, sci-fi and fantasy stuff of all varieties. I enjoy a lot of RPG's, and some of my favorite game series include kingdom hearts, fire emblem, dark souls, and a fair few others. I play a lot of league at a fairly high level, but I'm not exactly proud of that because the game damages my sanity at times.
In general, I like to keep in shape, play games with friends, share music I think is great, watch tv/movies/anime (horror and psychological stuff especially), share memes, read, and do some amateur writing. I'm also rather intelligent/insightful and enjoy some nuanced discussion.
Location: Currently in central NJ, somewhere in the no man's land between nyc and philly. I'd prefer someone local who I can meet in person, but won't pass up someone great online who's willing to eventually relocate or that I can eventually relocate to.
Looking For: Monogamous relationship, ideally something serious. I feel that what I'd like the most is to find someone very special to me, who I can love with all my heart and spend my life with. It'd probably be my greatest joy in life to be able to do that, and have someone do so in return. That said, this is just a description of my ideal scenario, not what I'd expect out of every relationship.
Traits I'm Looking For: Kind, loving, trustworthy, understanding. Good sense of humor, emotionally intelligent, communicates well. In this regard, I wouldn't ask for anything I don't freely give. I also very fond of women who are dominant/aggressive in a playful way, as well as role reversal dynamics.
Personality: Generally cool headed, laid back, and kind. Introverted, but can be extroverted when I'm in my element and otherwise comfortable. Deceptively intelligent despite how incredibly basic my pictures look, but I also tend to clown around a lot so that's not easy to discern at first. I’m also very reasonable, with a strong preference for peacefully resolving issues, so you can expect very little to no drama and good communication. Oh, and according to a myers briggs test, I'm an INFJ?
Fun facts: I have a deep and sexy voice which many people don't expect, and a great many people tell me I should get into radio or voice acting. I'm also a bit dead on the inside but that's probably because there's a skeleton living inside me.
Partner preferences: I'm a big fan of goth/alt girls, as well as tomboys. I also really like short hair, usually between pixie and neck length, and have a sizable interest in women that are taller than me. But these aren't dealbreakers! As long as I find you attractive, everything is fine.
Dealbreakers/Requirements: Similar interests are pretty important for me. I tend to play a lot of games in my free time for entertainment, so having a partner that I can do that together with is my ideal. I do have a strong preference for body type that I unfortunately can't get past, with that preference being the thinner end of the spectrum when it comes to proportions/body fat. So basically petite/slim/fit/muscular. PLEASE DON'T BE A SOCIOPATH, OR ACT LIKE ONE!
If you have any questions about anything I mentioned (or didn't), just ask and I'll absolutely answer them for you. I'm very friendly so absolutely feel free to come talk to me.

Here's a very informative post because I'm very serious about finding the right person for me. I've clearly marked and categorized everything, so feel free to skim the parts that interest you the most.
What brings me to reddit for dating: For the short of it, I've been doing online dating for about 7 years, and could only describe my experience as a sisyphean struggle. With more traditional dating platforms having been absolutely torturous and a complete waste of time, with me rarely ever finding matches and those I do get ending up being ghosts or people who just don't respond less than productive, I'm hoping this might give me a breakthrough.
Age: 26, open to 18-32~. I’m less about age, more about attraction.
Appearance: 5'8", medium length blond hair (pictures are from when it was short), blue eyes, white skin, slim fit body type. I dress almost exclusively in black if I can help it, hence "closeted goth". I've been told I'm fairly handsome, but I'm including a few (poorly taken) pictures, so you can decide for yourself whether or not I've been lied to!
(Imgur seems to be having problems lately so if you're getting an error that's why. My posts tend to get automatically removed if I include any other image hosters but if you message me I can send alternatives no problem.)
Face: https://imgur.com/a/ykiCkwQ
Body (Warning: Shirtless): https://imgur.com/a/zO96e63
Interests: Many of my interests fall into the "nerd" category. Games (video and tabletop), anime, music, art, sci-fi and fantasy stuff of all varieties. I enjoy a lot of RPG's, and some of my favorite game series include kingdom hearts, fire emblem, dark souls, and a fair few others. I play a lot of league at a fairly high level, but I'm not exactly proud of that because the game damages my sanity at times.
In general, I like to keep in shape, play games with friends, share music I think is great, watch tv/movies/anime (horror and psychological stuff especially), share memes, read, and do some amateur writing. I'm also rather intelligent/insightful and enjoy some nuanced discussion.
Location: Currently in central NJ, somewhere in the no man's land between nyc and philly. I'd prefer someone local who I can meet in person, but won't pass up someone great online who's willing to eventually relocate or that I can eventually relocate to.
Looking For: Monogamous relationship, ideally something serious. I feel that what I'd like the most is to find someone very special to me, who I can love with all my heart and spend my life with. It'd probably be my greatest joy in life to be able to do that, and have someone do so in return. That said, this is just a description of my ideal scenario, not what I'd expect out of every relationship.
Traits I'm Looking For: Kind, loving, trustworthy, understanding. Good sense of humor, emotionally intelligent, communicates well. In this regard, I wouldn't ask for anything I don't freely give. I also very fond of women who are dominant/aggressive in a playful way, as well as role reversal dynamics.
Personality: Generally cool headed, laid back, and kind. Introverted, but can be extroverted when I'm in my element and otherwise comfortable. Deceptively intelligent despite how incredibly basic my pictures look, but I also tend to clown around a lot so that's not easy to discern at first. I’m also very reasonable, with a strong preference for peacefully resolving issues, so you can expect very little to no drama and good communication. Oh, and according to a myers briggs test, I'm an INFJ?
Fun facts: I have a deep and sexy voice which many people don't expect, and a great many people tell me I should get into radio or voice acting. I'm also a bit dead on the inside but that's probably because there's a skeleton living inside me.
Partner preferences: I'm a big fan of goth/alt girls, as well as tomboys. I also really like short hair, usually between pixie and neck length, and have a sizable interest in women that are taller than me. But these aren't dealbreakers! As long as I find you attractive, everything is fine.
Dealbreakers/Requirements : Similar interests are pretty important for me. I tend to play a lot of games in my free time for entertainment, so having a partner that I can do that together with is my ideal. I do have a strong preference for body type that I unfortunately can't get past, with that preference being the thinner end of the spectrum when it comes to proportions/body fat. So basically petite/slim/fit/muscular. PLEASE DON'T BE A SOCIOPATH, OR ACT LIKE ONE!
If you have any questions about anything I mentioned (or didn't), just ask and I'll absolutely answer them for you. I'm very friendly so absolutely feel free to come talk to me.

On January 8th I was a terrible communicator our whole relationship. We were long distance and I didn’t tell her how short the time line really was for me to be moving back to her area (if I was delayed I didn’t want to disappoint her).
I was really an anxious wreck. My hours have been cut. I was drinking (more then usual) over the worry about money. The night before she messaged me that she was excited for me to spoil her (paying for her hair to be done etc). This added to my spiral, and I responded with anger. The next day she sent me something corny and I said “I don’t know about this… us” she blocked me on the spot. She’s right I messed up too many times.
Later she read a post i made whining about her and trying to convince myself I could do better.
I’m sober now and doing all the self care stuff.
I still really hope I can get her back. That’s my wife. I feel it in my bones. On our first date the way she tilted her head, said goodnight. I wanna hear her say good morning to me every day.
She still messages me every few months. She says I’ll always be important to her. I don’t think she’d ever want to be with me after everything. (Plus I’m extremely insecure about sex now. she has been with someone else since us and they were a bit more adventurous than me. I’m just not the equipment dude. I’m willing to be, but I’ll need a girl willing to build things slowly)
I kick myself every day for not just saying “hun tell me it’s all going to be okay, tell me you’ll love me even when things are tough ”
Will my hope go away?
Sorry for the ramble ☔️🩵

hello, I’m a 15yo guy. more specifically, a trans guy. (born female, but actually a guy.)
so, I’ve been to the hairdresser a few times and it’s been stressful, I can’t go anywhere without my mask and sitting in the middle of a mall (in a transparent store, literally people surrounding you, everywhere.) isn’t great.
the reason I mentioned I’m trans is because my hair is growing longer and longer and me having short hair is the only thing that actually makes me look like a boy. (since I’m just a kid I’m not on Testosterone and haven’t had any gender affirming surgeries.)
so, if I don’t cut my hair I get gender dysphoria, but if I do cut my hair I sit at the verge of tears, incredibly anxious for 4 hours. without a mask.
I have a lot of trust issues and I don’t trust a lot of people, especially not when cutting my hair. but the girl that currently cuts my hair is super sweet and knows how I want it.
I don’t know anyone that can cut hair (well, at least.) and I just don’t know what to do.
it also has to be before spring break cause during spring all teens are in the mall and teens my age is the people hat cause me the most anxiety. (teens are rude and fucking terrifying.)
does anyone know what I could do?

Seriously, there doesn't seem to be any any middleground. There was one back when I started the game, shortly before Plaguefall. Being a low level green beard, Hazard 3 had the (mostly) right balance between challenge and fun.
But the more I played, the easier it became and now I'm in this weird limbo, where the game is either a breeze or rage inducingly unfair. " Oh Nino, how do you like traversing those bottomless pits as a driller. Oh Nino, how much do you enjoy getting swarmed by both Swarmers and Shredder Bots at once. And oh, here, a gesture of kindness. I know you didn't find any Morkite so far and already are fighting a swarm, so please, take my Bulkhead Detonator. DRG is too easy, eh? DRG IS TOO EASY, EH?!".
And it seriously kills my desire to play this game, because I either can't lose or I want to pull my hair out. And as I said, there doesn't seem to be any middleground between those two. I even tried to gimp myself to make Hazard 3 challenging again by de-equipping mods from my guns and armor, but it just doesn't help.

I'm trying to find this short story I read on a webpage in the 2010s? I remember there were some black monsters - roaming around and killed all the adults. The kids were trying to stunt their growth by not eating, because as soon as they become adults they are done for. I remember a specific detail of them growing small hairs on their arms because of the starvation.

My fingers drummed on the cold steel table in my specialized prison cell, my daily dose of blood having not been sent to me. A dry thirst burned in my throat, my ruby eyes dilating at the vampire in a cheap business suit plopping down across from me. Playing with my amethyst waves, he traced his slender finger along the nape of his neck. His ruby eyes glistened with excitement, his slicked back ivory hair reminded me of everything I hated about the government.
“Pretty hungry, Morticia Deathbite?” He taunted cruelly, hatred burning in my eyes. “I have a deal for you. The government will exonerate you of all your charges if you agree to become my wife for a mission. There is one catch, you have to let me bite you. Oh forgive my manners. I am Agent Stanton Lifewick, a member of Night Squad. The vampires in the program work to hunt down serial killers that the police can’t seem to get. Will you join me?” Growling through gritted teeth, my inky lips curled into a defiant snarl. Spitting in his face, wicked laughter rumbled in his throat.
“You can rot in hell. You guys put me in this jail cell for only drinking the blood of serial killers. Fuck you.” I retorted venomously, his hands wiping away the spit. “You can leave now, you rotten bastard!” Snatching the collar of my orange jumpsuit, he yanked me close to his face. The corner of his lips twitched with fury, a raw tension thickening between us. Shooting daggers into each other's eyes, my elbow slammed into his face. Crashing back, I sprinted out the door. Red light bathed the concrete halls, a shrill alarm blaring in my ears. Unlocking the other criminals on my way out, the distraction would be my way out. Security guards attempted to stop me, one punch smashing them into the wall. A Cheshire Cat grin spread cheek to cheek at the open gate, my bare feet smashing through. Feeling the pale moonlight on my skin pleased me, Stanton called for me to stop. Flipping him off, I leapt into the trees. Hopping from branch to branch, my heart stopped at him blocking my path. Straightening up, claws extended from my black fingernails. Cracking my neck, he pulled out a gun with holy water soaked wooden bullets.
“I can’t let you escape.” He snapped hotly, a bead of sweat dripping off of his brow. “Join me now or I’ll shoot you.” Putting my hands up in the air as a dare, maniacal laughter burst from my lips. Shrugging my shoulders, he watched me crack my fingers one by one. Leaning forward, something was stopping him. My face fell at the sound of guns clicking underneath me, the sheer amount of agents scaring me. Placing my hands behind my back, my claws receded back into their place.
“Just take me back so I can fucking die.” I grumbled under my breath, Stanton putting his gun away. Leaping closer to me, even my speed wouldn’t allow me to dodge all of their bullets. Standing behind me, his fangs grazed the nape of my neck. His hot breath bathed my neck, the agents’ fingers all ready to shoot me. Too many black suits, I thought irritably to myself. Freedom and blood was all I desired, the bastards stripping both from me.
“Just fucking say yes, you idiot!” He growled huskily in my ear, his hand sliding down the small of my waist. “You get freedom and all the blood you need from me.” His invisible strength threatened to break my back, my body trembling in his hold. Something about it dulled my hatred for him. Concern flashed in his eyes for a moment, tears welling up in my eyes. Peeking into his soul, a white aura surrounded him. Bowing my head in shame, my bangs hid my eyes. Live a life alone in prison or experience life again? Did the world hate me as much as I hated it?
“Fine.” I uttered in with defeat, a sickening dread bubbling in my gut. “You win but you better treat me like one of you. I refuse to be a slave and a prisoner.” Sinking his fangs into my neck, the disgusting sound of him drinking my blood drowned out the agents putting their guns back. Inky bats flew across my breasts, a solid black band forming on his finger. An indescribable bond formed between us, silent tears streaming down my cheeks. This contract reminded me of how my first master used me to kill innocent people for defying the church, his gentle touch scaring me out of my trance.
“Are you okay?” He whispered kindly in my ear, the sudden shift in his personality ringing the alarm bells. “I am going to get you to the car and we will sign a marriage contract to get our license. I don’t bite. Well, unless I have to. I am aware you have been alive since medieval times so the concept of living off your mate’s blood is new. It actually makes you ten times stronger. Imagine that power coursing through you.” Tossing me over his shoulder, he jumped off the branch.
“Operation Get Hitched is a success!” He announced with a warm smile, a tender blush rising to my cheeks. “Go home to your families.” Carrying me to the car, my waves bounced up and down with every step. Sitting me down in the passenger seat of a generic black armored SUV, my hair blew back as he slammed the door shut. Sliding into his seat, he pulled out a pile of papers from the center console. Passing me the pile, I knew the drill. Signing on the dotted lines, a knock stole his breath away. Rolling down the window, a fellow agent stamped the paper. Dropping two velvet boxes into my lap, the papers fluttered in the other agent’s hands. Closing his window, he held my hand up. Opening up the closest box to him, he slid on an onyx band of twisted branches. Grasping the remaining box, my jaw dropped at the matching band. Sliding on his finger shakily, surprise rounded his eyes. Thorns dug into my fingers, his face showing the same fate for him. Sniffing the ring, it reeked of an eternal curse. Fantastic, we were bound together forever.
“Can I ask you a question?” I choked out awkwardly, a warm gaze falling on me. “Why me? I am not the only vampire there. I can think of s-” Putting his finger up in the air, the ring glittered in the pale moonlight. Grabbing my shoulder, any cockiness he had was gone. It almost seemed to be a mask in front of the boys, his private personality seeming naturally sweet.
“I picked you because I saw your beautiful face in a pile of files. Also you are the oldest vampire alive, so that helped. I find you rather amazing. I don’t agree with you killing all those serial killers but you had to eat. Am I right?” He mused tenderly, is crooked grin stopped time as the urge to kiss him dominated my mind. “How about you drink something? I had them starve you for a couple of days. I am sorry about that.” Guiding my head to the nape of his neck, his vein throbbed violently. Biting him now would seal the deal from my side, the scent of a summer day wafted up my nose. Piercing his tender flesh, my pupils enlarged at the first sip, the sweet taste of lemonade coated my throat. Wrapping my arms around his neck, short gasps poured from his lips. Drinking my fill, a satisfied sigh flowed freely from me. He was right, your mate’s blood tasted like nothing else. Scarlet blood stained the corner of his lips, my hands cupping his face. Pressing my lips against his sensually, his arm slid down to the small of my waist. Refusing to let me go, his tongue danced in my mouth. Time stopped, our heartbeats were all I could hear. Releasing him from the spell, he sat back in a daze with a goofy grin. Scarlet burned his cheeks, my impulsive behavior having landed me in some hot water for sure.
“Sorry for that.” I apologized profusely, hoping that he wouldn’t hate me for acting on my inner thoughts. “I get a little impu-” Kissing me back with twice as much passion, my body arched towards him. The seat belt was the only thing that held me back, his heart beating faster than mine. Another knock interrupted him, a flustered Stanton rolled the window down.
“What!” He yelled sharply, the ivory haired female’s ruby eyes flitting between me and him. “Selena, you need to give your older brother privacy.” Her petite five two figure didn’t scream power but boy did her intense color changing aura. Sticking out her tongue, a deeper scarlet colored his cheeks. Blinking a couple of times, she leaned into the car.
“I am Selena Dogood, his baby sister. You must be the infamous Morticia he never stopped talking about. Honestly, he never shut up.” She teased lightly, her short leather dress fluttering in the breeze. “Would you like to h-” Covering her mouth with his hand, a stern gaze shut her offer down.
“I would but I need to get to the hell I am calling suburbia. You know the reason I married her in the first place. They suspect the serial killer is living in that godforsaken town.” He informed her briskly, cursing under his breath. “I might like her a bit. Do you have her clothes? People are going to stare if I bring her out in a prison jumpsuit.” Dropping a silky emerald dress into his lap, a horrendous flashback of the church dressing me in lingerie for special guests to view haunted me. Horrendous slurs had been carved into my skin, the people throwing rotten tomatoes at me. Clutching my chest, a tight embrace snapped me back to reality. Selena put her hands up into the air, walking back to her own SUV. Kissing the top of my head, the nature of our bond made this moment unbearably sweet. His slender six foot seven frame towered over me by a good foot, thus his embrace felt like Heaven. Shaking my head, I shoved him off. Undoing my seat belt, he turned his back as I peeled off the jumpsuit. Tossing it into the back, I tugged on the sweetheart neckline dress. The silk felt soft against my skin, the material a far better cry from the rough cotton of my previous outfit. The straps failed to cover the number the prison had branded me with, my fingers tracing the faint numbers. Not seeing what I did wrong, the people should have applauded me. Furthermore, I needed to eat.
“You look beautiful.” He commented pleasantly, his eyes falling on the numbers branded on my chest. “They didn’t tell me that they did that to the first vampires in prison. I promise to make your life better. Can you cook?” His question threw me off as the engine roared to life, the trees turning into a sea of houses. Rolling my eyes, most of them were close enough to pass a damn cup of sugar through the bathroom window. The ranches nauseated me further, my heart sinking at the car pulling up to a flamingo pink ranch. My face scrunched in disgust, my eyes falling on a red headed woman with piercing blue eyes. Her curls bounced around her shoulders, her ample cleavage hanging out of a tight tank top. Pouting in my direction, something seemed off about her. Perhaps it was because her aura was darker than the bottom of the ocean. Hopping out to the car, his hand ripped open the car door. Sliding on the shoes, a scowl planted itself on her lips.
“Who’s Shirley Temple across the street?” I inquired softly, his eyes rolling. “She seems to like you.” Rolling his eyes, a wicked grin spread cheek to cheek as he rose to his feet. Pinning me to the car, his lips kissed mine hungrily. Time stopped, the sound of the night fading to the background. Releasing me from his spell, her death glare sent chills up my spine. Lifting my finger, he purposely showed off our wedding rings. Glee glittered in his eyes at her obvious bewilderment, he flipped her off on the way into the house. The outside must have been deceptive because all sorts of taxidermy lined the Victorian style wallpaper, the dark wooden bookshelves were lined with first editions of books. Sitting me down on what was his original emerald velvet couch, my hands rubbing the carved bats on the armrest. Crossing my legs, my eyes fell on the coffin coffee table. Laying down, sweet slumber stole me away.
Snapping awake, a flurry of impatient knocks frightened the shit out of me. The bright sunshine blinded me, a fluke in my DNA allowing me not to burn in the sun. Rushing to the door, the redhead from the night before knocked once more. Opening the door, I leaned on the door frame. Horror rounded her eyes at my porcelain skin and black lips, her perfect ass shoving her way in. Following her into an all black kitchen, she called out Stanley. Cocking my brow in response, a messy haired Stanton wandered into the hall. Defiance glittered in his eyes, my eyes taking in the same emerald wallpaper from the living room now lining the hall.
“You are a cockadoody for your disrespectful behavior from last night.” She complained bitterly, her eyes snapping back to me. “Did you find her on an albino dating site? Why haven’t I seen her?” Rubbing his bare muscular chest, he examined her pristine white dress and black sun hat. My heart fluttered at the sight of him, part of me wishing he wouldn’t slick his hair back anymore. A matching branded set of numbers sat on his chest, curiosity twinkling in my eyes.
“Why don’t you leave, Susie?” He asked politely, popping a white tablet into his mouth. “I need you and your husband to leave me alone today.” Narrowing her eyes in his direction, he motioned towards the door. Something seemed off with her, her aura sickening me. Cupping my mouth, he noticed my reaction to her presence. Not only that, the scent of her blood reminded me of a corpse. Walking up next to her, I pushed Stanton out of the way.
“What is your name?” I demanded viciously, folding my arms across my chest. True love lit up in his eyes for the first time, the crack of her slap stunning me into a temporary silence. Her chest huffed up and down, my crazed grin infuriating her further. Pinning me to the wall, I stole the opportunity to peek into her soul. A shadow blocked me from seeing into it, my face falling.
“I am Susan Smith, the leader of the neighborhood watch. I am watching you. I am a black belt by the way.” She warned icily, my unimpressed expression peeving her off further. “What is so funny?” Knowing that she would charge me if I touched her, I cleared my throat.
“Hello to you then.” I chirped cheerfully, turning on my people-friendly smile. “I think you should go now. I work the night shift and you and your creepy neighborhood watch can go fuck yourself. You can keep your hungry eyes off my husband.” Raising her hand to strike me, I caught it mid slap. Lowering it to her side, my grip on her wrist refused to let her go.
“Whatever. My husband is hotter than yours and the mayor of the town. I wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole.” She returned haughtily, my fingers letting her go. “We don’t want you Gothic freaks in this perfect little slice of Heaven.” Cocking my brow at her words, it was obvious she liked my husband. A slightly overweight bald man in a pair of khakis and a blue button up shirt stepped out to search for his wife, his chocolate brown eyes falling on us. The name Richard stood out to me, a defiant glow coming over my face.
“He’s hot if slightly overweight and bald with a side of khaki’s is in fashion.” I taunted cruelly, watching her face grow red as the fire hydrant outside. Stomping off, she slammed the door behind her. Dusting off my dress, he pulled me in for a warm embrace. The foot difference made me feel pleasantly small, the feeling of his muscles against my face causing a tender blush to rise to my cheeks. This was an emotion that I haven’t felt in a while, the desire to give in to my nightly urges raged. Pushing him away, I folded my arms across my chest. Hurt dimmed his eyes, his hands running through his hair.
“We don’t have to do any of that until you are ready. We do have to get ready to go to the grocery. I just took my sunblock pill.” He explained happily, turning to walk back into his room. Hugging him from behind, my outcome was to alleviate his hurt. Freezing in his tracks, he spun on his heels. Hiding his wet eyes underneath his hair, he barely responded as I wiped away his tears. Pushing me away, a glass shattered on the worn wooden floor the moment I hit it. Shivering on the floor, I had tried too hard. Rushing into his room, I chased after him.
Fighting the tears, his years in prison had done a number on him. Sliding into the room in the nick of time, he shoved an onyx lace baby doll dress into my arms with a pair of chunky heeled boots. Stomping into the bathroom, he had his outfit hanging off of his arm. Changing quickly, he needed something to cheer him up. Crashing into the kitchen, the bottom of my dress fluttered with each step. Noting the dark roast coffee beans, coffee was the only thing vampires could taste beside blood. Humming to myself, I began the process of making him a latte. Smoothing out my bell sleeves, it was time to add the milk. Pouring the foaming milk into his coffee, he wandered in with a grumpy look on his face. My breath hitched at his black and white striped button up shirt over a pair of black shorts, his worn converses bringing him down to what age we looked like. A silver cross dangled from his left ear, his eyes falling on the apology coffee.
“I am sorry. It has been a long time since someone touched me. It is a tale I will tell you another time. Did you make that for me?” He queried with a tired smile, taking the clear cup in his trembling hands. “Did they teach you how to make this in jail?” Nodding silently, he took a sip. His eyes widened at how tasty it was, the cup was empty in a couple of minutes.
“Are we watching the people at the grocery store?” I questioned shakily, afraid to speak. “Won’t we stand out?” Shaking his head, he ruffled the top of my head. Kissing the top of my head, he offered me his elbow. Hooking mine around his, he guided me out to the car. Helping me in, we were soon heading to the local grocery store. The worn sign flickered against a faded tan facade, the housewives streamed in and out. An irritated Susan rushed past his car.
“We do but I have lived here for months, so they are used to it. If you wore pink it would be more alarming.” He whispered gruffly into my ears, those damn urges coming up again. “Trust me. We are the town freaks anyway with being “albinos”. The air quotes added a sense of humor to the moment, his soft chuckle telling me that he was fine. Helping me out, the wives all waved at him. Jealousy flashed in my eyes, his fingers intertwined with mine. While he received a bunch of smiles, I received death glare after death glare. Bright lights blinded me, the constant conversations caused my ears to pin back. The serial killer could be among these people, the very thought exhilarating.
“This can be a bit much for your first day out of jail. I would have left you at home but our bond won’t allow it.” He assured me sweetly, placing my hands on the cart. Holding me from behind, he rested his chin on my head. Talking for a minute to the butcher, a special symbol on his neck informed me that he was an ally. Susan rolled up next to me, one of her lackeys boxing me in. Leaning on the end of my cart, she cast insult after insult at me. Ignoring her words, a familiar face stole my attention. His wrinkles matched the father’s from back in the medieval times, a pair of sage eyes meeting mine. He smelled human, a Celtic symbol glowed on his neck. Susan waved her hands in front of me, a strained huh escaping my lips. His black priest’s uniform sickened me, clammy sweat soaking my skin.
“Did you hear me!” Susan demanded childishly, holding out an invitation. “This is something we call a book club.” Seconds from crumbling it up, Stanton snatched it from her fingers. Pecking me on the lips, she rolled her eyes in a huff. Father Rowell had disappeared into the crowd, my husband carrying on the conversation for me.
“I have to go to the bathroom!” I blurted out awkwardly, leaping over the carts. Crashing through the people, I skidded to a stop in front of Rowell. Reaching his hand out to me, a bolt of lightning zapped him the moment our skin touched. Clearing his throat, he pointed to the automatic doors.
“Shall we go outside?” He suggested with a sly grin, my ankle failing me at the wrong time. Crashing onto my ass, he snapped his finger. A rotting church towered over us, so many questions rested on the tip of my tongue. One pew remained, the wood groaning as we sat down on it. Why did this feel warmer than before?
“Are you the serial killer, you old man?” I interrogated intensely, his head shaking. Sliding me a Celtic spell book with the proper page open, the spell he was using only required the sacrifice of a lamb. Leaning back, he touched the glowing symbol on his neck. I guess it all added up.
“It’s not me. This damn thing prevents me from killing anyone. I turned it around, I swear. “ He attempted to assure me, my look of disbelief not pleasing him. “I am sorry for using you. You seemed so lost and I was lost by the propaganda they were spreading. The church today is much more honest. I can be a pair of ears for you. Will that help you out?” The church bell rang, the wood quaking underneath my boots, his eyes allowing me to peer into his soul. The white aura was enough to convince me, my hand touching his.
“Besides the killing, you did everything right.” I admitted sheepishly, allowing him to smile subtly. “You found me after one of my bloody massacres and still hid me from the church.” Snow drifted aimlessly, his palm catching a couple of snowflakes. Watching them melt in his palms, he turned to me.
“Do you remember when I found you? Ruby painted the snow but you looked at me with the biggest plea for help. You were but a ten year old child with fangs in my eyes.” He commented in a fatherly tone, both us leaning back to watch the snow fall. Resting our hands on our flat stomachs, he let out a soft chuckle
“I am surprised you helped me after finding out I was the daughter of the first vampire.” I laughed gently, his hand reaching for mine. “I got married yesterday. I am sorry that I went to prison. I must have disappointed you with that tidbit.” Taking my hand, he examined the ring. Snapping his fingers, we were back at the grocery store. Dropping a card into my palm, he shoved his hands into his pocket.
“I came to seek you out. The killer is among your little area I call Hell. Good luck with that marriage.” He called out as he walked to a waiting car, Stanton coming out with a bag of groceries. Peeking into the bag, it was two bags of coffee. Providing the perfect distraction, the contacts amusing me.
“It really looks like we eat.” I joked tenderly, nudging his shoulder. “Can we go home now?” Winking in my direction, his arm curled around my waist. Flipping me the invitation, his next words pissed me off.
“You are going to that book club tomorrow. Play nice and try not to stand out too much. The trick to winning Susie over is through the love of reading. As I recall, you had a cell full of the latest books.” He ordered sharply, rubbing his chin. “I know you read them all. Can you handle that tomorrow?” Whispering something in his ears, a devilish grin spread cheek to cheek.

I'm searching for a fun young woman who's visiting RVA or further north in VA for the summer for fun or as an intern.
If you're up for an adventure, we can spend time together, get to know each other. Explore this amazing city together, share fabulous meals. Even take some weekend trips together if you trust me enough to keep you safe.
I LOVE art, animals, all kinds of music, road trips, the beach, and lots more. If you're looking to switch things up with an adventurous summer fling, say hi and tell me a little about you.
I'm 47, white, over 6ft, clean cut. Short brown hair, hazel eyes. And looking forward to hearing form you.
In your msg, please tell me why you're in town this summer and (very generally) what area you're staying in.

My vacuum died out of no where, now two weeks ago and I desperately need a new one.
I have long hair, my dog is a golden retriever shedding machine. I live in a 1500 sq ft house that is hardwood but covered in low pile carpets cuz my landlord was very concerned about damage to the new hardwood floor from my dog walking. Money is really tight, but I could maybe pull off $350?
I have a rare autoimmune disorder and cancer. I have to travel to Houston for cancer care next week and might have to continue to travel there (from Tulsa) for my chemo treatment. I am trying to do it the most money-saving way but it's going to really eat up my budget. Plus I will be forced to take short term disability and I will only have 66% of my wages. I'm not trying to whine and complain, just laying out my situation.
I've read on here that the Miele Classic C1 Cat and Dog seems to be a great choice, but I really can't afford that currently, but I am tired of going through vacuums. This will be my third since living on my own.

Hi! I’m a 22 year old submissive female, seeking Dominant female for role play.
I play as myself, in first person. I’m 5’ 2” 85 pounds (I’m really petite) B-cup, size 5 feet, long dark blonde hair and brown eyes.
Don’t just send a reply to the starter, say hi and let’s discuss plots and kinks, then we can jump in. Here are some starter plots/scenarios that I’m interested in playing…
The pickup: I’m walking back from the beach on a hot summer evening. The hot wind blowing my hair as I walk along the desolate back road away from the beach. Walking in nothing more that a little white bikini, the soles of my barefeet stained black from walking barefoot on the asphalt, “Damn it’s really hot” I continue to walk down the long, deserted road…
This plot could go a lot of ways, I’m pretty willing, submissive and naive, so I don’t really like anything forced. Maybe you target me because of the way I look, maybe you like feet abs target me because I’m barefoot. Definitely lots of possibilities. Maybe you’re gonna keep me all to yourself, locking me up in your basement or secret dungeon. We can work out a scenario
The farm: I’m coming to your farm in the Deep South, it’s a hot, humid, moonless night. I already know this isn’t a ‘normal’ farm and I’m not ordinary farm help. I already know what’s in store for me. Under the cover of darkness, I make my way from the town deep into the countryside. Bringing nothing with me as instructed, I make my way to your farm in nothing but the little black bikini you sent me prior to this arrangement. I spot the farmhouse and make my way towards the porch light, “that’s the farm” my barefeet kicking up dust as I walk up the dust road…
Another fun plot I like. I love dirty places so a farm is awesome. Maybe I had seen your ad online about being kept and used for breast milking, maybe you’re just looking for a girl to keep her ankles and wrists in those old rusty slave shackles you don’t have keys for, maybe you’re just sadistic and you’re going to use and torture me. Let’s work out the details!
Meeting online: Meeting a partner online is the norm nowadays, I found your posting about looking for a girl, which was very appealing to me and too good to pass up. After some email exchange, you offer to take me…permanently. I excitedly accept and being the trip to your destination. Walking to the address, wearing a white tank top, no bra, a short black skirt, white panties and barefoot, I walk towards the door “this is it, no turning back now” I say to myself as I ring the doorbell…
This is really open ended. Did you offer to keep me in your dungeon? Maybe you have an asylum where I’m going to be kept, so many different ideas here.
The road/camping trip: We’ve been planning this for a long time, a summer trip. I’m excited and can’t wait for you to get home. I’m waiting around in my white bikini, already packed for the trip with my shall bag. Considering how long the trip is, I packed very little. “I can wait until she gets home” I say eagerly awaiting you…
This is more a non bdsm related plot but we can definitely include it! Maybe we card going camping deep in the woods, or by a lake, maybe tent camping in the rolling hills and we have to hike in. Let’s figure out an awesome trip!
The BDSM resort: Being the kinky girl I am, I naturally stumbled onto a kinky resort. I eagerly book a month long excursion into my ultimate desires. I arrive and check in. Off the lobby is the holding room. A grey, bare room with a locker and bench, I close the door and open my locker. Inside the locker is a pair of handcuffs and ankle cuffs, the chain in just long enough for me to walk. I place all my belongings and clothing in the locker and close it “I should be out in a month” I say to myself, knowing there is no turning back. I sit on the floor and lock the cuffs around my ankles, followed by cuffing my hands behind my back, following instructions, I wait on the timer for my host to enter, little did I know, I’d be here much longer than a month…
So much fun. What a vacation! But what’s in store for me? Did I sign up for multiple things, where I would be kept and how? Maybe I signed up to be kept in one place and one kind of restraint/position the whole time? How did I end up there longer? Maybe as punishment for something, violating the rules of a session, a computer glitch? Let’s come up with something together!
My kinks are, but not limited to: Bondage, Cuffs, Shackles, Mummification, Stocks/pillory, Straightjackets, Chastity, Bastinado, Tickling, Plugs, Gags, Oral, Anal, Vibrators, Dildos, Hoods, Blindfolds, Pee/scat, Barefeet (I love going barefoot and getting my feet dirty, I’m a regular barefooter) Foot worship (barefeet) sensory depravation, hoods, blindfolds, branding, tattoo, name calling, dirty talk, impact play, dirty/musk, verbal humiliation, Long term/permanent chastity, Long term/permanent bondage, Long term/permanent captivity/imprisonment, Predicament bondage, Kidnapping, Isolation, Being kept as a captive/prisoner, Stuck fetish (eg, having my feet stuck in mud, clay, tar, cement, quicksand, glue, etc)
Hard limits: Footwear (I stay barefoot), animals, drugs, broken bones, males,
Places I like to be kept: Dungeon, Basement, Garage, Farm, Old prison, Old asylum
I’m sure I left things out, so if you don’t see a particular kink or you have questions, please ask.
Only looking to roleplay with females, trans or futa as long as it’s not focused on a certain body part and it doesn’t go right to that.
All characters are 18+
I use Reddit chat
Kik: barefootslavegirl01
Discord: barefoot👣slavegirl#2957