No, this ain't fashion week.
My name is John Egbert and I love to crossdress. I even grew your hair out! But that's a story for another time.

the nurse let me have my phone back…

but i can’t see very well…


johns. sorta dying.


You’ve had a bad feeling all day.

Right when you woke up. You knew something wasn’t right. Or wasn’t gonna be right. But you couldn’t think of anything. So, you tried your best to ignore it and go on about your day.

The shop has been busy lately since it’s wedding season and such so you decide to get there a little early so you can get some cleaning done before it opens. You hum as you walk down the street, pulling out your keys as you approach the side entrance. You enter and set your keys on the counter next to the register and locate the broom and dustpan.

Humming and singing to some song in your head, you go about straightening up and sweeping the floors. It’s almost opening time and you’re just about done when suddenly


Before you know it there’s glass everywhere and a group of 3 masked men busting in. You panic and head for the cash register, trying to defend it.

"Give me all your money!!" One yells.

"No!" You return, glaring.

Another punches you across the face and you go tumbling tot he floor. He grabs you by your collar and the first one yells again.

"Open the goddamn register!"

"Fuck you!" You spit, blood pouring from your mouth from the punch.

The leader nods at the one holding your shirt and he begins to beat you repeatedly. The third one joins in and the leader goes to try to open it on his own. Obviously, he can’t, and gets frustrated. He tells his two lackeys to pull you up and pulls out a gun.

"Last chance, open the fucking register." He says slowly.

"G-Go to hell…" you wheeze out, thoroughly bruised and bleeding all over.

The lead robber sneers. “Fine.” He shoots you twice, once in the stomach and once in the leg, and you cry out. The two men drop you while the leader takes the register and splits.

You’re left, wheezing on the floor and weakly trying to dig your phone out of your pocket. With blurred vision, you call whoever happens to be the last person you talked to. They answer and all you can get out is a small “h…h..elp…” before you pass out from blood loss.

04th July 2013
1 steps
04th July 2013
32482 steps
Your muse walks in on my muse undressing and catches the various scars along their body. What is your muses reaction? What do they do?

my name is john egbert and i’m very easily distracted.

04th July 2013
24 steps


Despite your usual good intentions as he bends over you tilt your head a bit, admiring not just the nice shape of his ass but his slender legs, too. Swallowing you shake your head as he moves on and you let out a breath before running up behind him and suddenly tickling his sides. “Polo!” You shout, back to the playful routine that you started with. You let out a bout laughter, grabbing your sides at his reaction. It was too grand. You really had it in for this kid and you didn’t even realise it yet. “Good show, good show, ahaha! You’re not too bad at this, chum!”

You practically scream in surprise before it dissolves into laughs. You slap at Jake’s tickling hands before dropping and catching your breath. Once done you stand and pout at the adventurer. “Well that wasn’t nice of ya! And I made a present for you and everything.” You say, trying to keep your pout. But it was hard to stay mad at the goofy man.

01st July 2013
24 steps


You watch from behind as he walks away from you, not even knowing of you so close behind. You held your grin as you snuck up close to him though still a good arms length away. “Polo!” You say softly, crouched a bit more so the brush would hide you. You were gonna do a sneak attack and catch him by surprise. After all the hunting you’ve done, you have plenty of experience with staying hidden if need be. Though this was all fun in games, and you were glad John took the time out to amuse you for just a bit. You’d have tons more fun when you reached the main event!

You jump outta your skin and whip around to find no one there. You sigh and realize that you’ve dropped your flower crown. With a pout, you lean over to pick it up, unsuspecting of the man watching you (and consequently, your butt) not too far away. You brush the petals off and and start walking again. “Marco!” You call out once again.