I remembered the night she threw me out. I had worn her sexiest underwear. She hadn’t worn it for years, so one of us may as well use it. I was half way through clipping my stockings to my suspenders when she came in. I thought she would be out seeing her friend until 10.30 at least.

“I bloody knew it, you little queer. You couldn’t leave it alone could you? Well, you can bugger off. I want a real man.”

The girls were so lucky their parents forced them to bring sunscreen.

The sun was absolutely brutal. Anyone who dared to step outside was sure to be burnt to a crisp within minutes. The heat was like a constant pressure on every part of their bodies

Essentially, it was the perfect day to go out to an amusement park.

Hershey Park, even just past the entrance, was full and bustling with life. Everywhere one looked, everywhere one heard, people were having pure, unadulterated fun.

To live so close to such a huge amusement park would’ve been any kid’s dream.

Eighteen-year-old Nicholas Hammerstein is at the cusp of finishing high school in his hometown of Los Alamos, NM. He has a seemingly ideal life and is blessed with loving parents, a cute baby sister, and great friends. Nicholas is a gifted student and martial artist who has dreams of leaving for college at the end of his senior year. But, living in a world of Emergent humans, he will soon find his life turned upside down as his life and the fate of a kingdom hang in the balance. His future and theirs will be determined by how he navigates the drastic changes in his body and the magical and superpowered Mergent population he joins.

The Pinky Confessions 7

There is a debate about transgender children. Should a Child be allowed to change gender? Some parents even allow their children to be drag kids! Should we allow this so the child is happy? Or is this just a form of child abuse?
You may know me as Pinky and read a lot about me. This is my story in my words.
A story of who I was, who I wanted to be, who others wanted me to be and who people thought I was

It is possible for cruel things to be apologized for.

The Flower Story
By Sabrina G. Langton

***

A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 41 Bearthwaite Politics, Law, Lore and Reality

One of the pupils at Whiteport Academy was Fergus McCann. To others fourteen year old Fergus was the ultimate alpha male. A big strong and physically unstoppable boy who was the star of all the physical sport games he played for his school. It was a surprise to most when they discovered he was more interested in the creative stories he wrote for his English teacher than he was in his endeavours on the fields of sport. The boys thought he was a bit odd because he admitted to enjoying reading, and even writing, poetry, drawing and painting, but none made anything of it because Fergus was not someone whose ire they wished to court. Without doubt Fergus was a masculine male, and he had never considered being, nor had he ever wanted to be anything else. But his day dreams would have been considered by most of his peers to be in a word, pink, if that is any other than himself had been aware of them. He had absolutely no desire to be in any way feminine and like other typical males of his age from time to time he had sexual fantasies concerning his friend’s mothers and sisters, but naytheless he had a very different view as to what constituted masculinity from that of the males of his acquaintanceship and especially his father, Davy, who he did not get on with. His father would have liked him better if he’d been a male chauvinist bully, and better still if he’d been a chauvinist thug like himself, but his mother, Eunice, was delighted that Fergus was naturally polite, helpful and considerate, especially to girls, but his father unremittingly reviled him for being a sissy. The only reason it had not come to blows between them was that his father was like a lot of bullies a coward and was deep down afraid of Fergus who had for a number of years been bigger and stronger than his father.

The envelope was hand-addressed in my dad’s handwriting, which got my hopes up even though he deadnamed me, but inside there was no handwritten or even printed letter.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

Where to start? There are so many places…

I could start with the weather, which was a gorgeous spring day. I could start with the restless feeling that overcame me as I woke on that gorgeous spring day; the kind of day you throw caution to the winds and do whatever you really want to do instead of what's sensible.. Maybe I should start at the HEB, but if you aren't a denizen of the Great State Of Texas you won't have the faintest idea what an HEB is.

See how hard it is to find a starting place?

Is the tape running now? Are you sure? OK. I’ll start again.