you're going to make a great mother someday

You are being held captive by a cosmic horror far beyond human comprehension. Its devoted servants are your jailers, restraining you with thick chains and kind words. They say that you've been chosen as a vessel. To be the mother of its spawn that will rule over humanity down here on Earth for the rest of our days. They say that you're a woman. That's what they keep calling you, over and over again. But you are [[not a woman->2]], and none of this makes any sense.<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

Its followers just call this otherworldly being The Propagator. You've wondered what it did to earn that title, but when you look at your current situation the answer becomes clear. It propagates unwitting hosts like you across countless planets, worlds, and dimensions - any space still left undisturbed throughout the universe. It will remake humanity, just like it did all those other civilizations, in its image, starting with whatever unspeakable thing that comes out of whoever it deems mother. And this time around, that's you. This wouldn't be okay even if you //were// a woman. It would violate anyone's deepest sense of self regardless of gender. But you are [[not a woman->2.5]], so it is that much more of you that they will have to alter in order to make you a mother.<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

Of course, growing a womb is hardly the end of your remodeling. Once that thing is born, you and your body will remain mothers for life. The abomination will be occupying the temporary form of a human baby at that point. In a cruel imitation of infant behavior it will therefore require constant sustenance during that period. Two evenly spaced sections on your chest will soon fill with acrid fluids like a water balloon spent too long at the tap. You imagine these misshapen orbs squirming in place with every move you make, chained deep in place by a network of sharp wires tacked onto your nerves. Those wires will reappropriate that part of your chest to continuously lactate for as long as its recipient wills it. Your caretakers call this new liquid 'milk', because milk is what a mother supposedly produces for her child. But you are [[not a woman->5]], and that thing is not your child.<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

every passage ends with some variant of "but you are not a woman". "not a woman" is what links to the next passage try and make everything sound as unpleasant as possible, very invasive, very unnatural. this will not stop transformation fetishists from getting a boner but it could help the "you" in this does not already have reproductive organs and parts. they have no assigned sex the baby is stealing your energy, your food, your life how would you need to alter someone in order to become a mother? what are the things i feel are forced upon me when someone expects me to grow up and become a loving mother? -womb -brest -birth canal? -skeleton sets itself to be wider, it's painful -wide, child bearing hips. different fat deposits? -emotional changes. once the seed is planted, however this old god wishes to do that, chemicals will alter your brain -maternal, doting -nice, complacent. -and of course your stomach will swell up with child. you will love being pregnant, every minute of it. you will eat for two. you will live for the being inside of you. you will alter your behaviors to be able to deliver healthy progeny. and you will look down at yourself, unable to see your feet or anything at all below that bulbous, fertile mass that some might call a stomach, and you will be so, so happy to be a woman and a mother. it is women who are keeping u trapped. they are all very kind to you and are so, so happy that you're going to become a mother giving u a diet of special foods that they claim will help u deliver the child. they see you as their own daughter the gestation period for this baby is like 3 weeks maybe? there's something very unsettling to me about a pregnancy going so quickly. it really makes the point that whatever you are birthing is not human i don't want to characterize the god as feminine. i want its followers to maybe be feminine to show how they've bought into this lie, but the root of this evil is NOT feminine. it is what forces people into motherhood. if the cult members are my mother, then the god is cis hetero patriarchy who first introduced her to those ideas and then...something? i don't want to leave off on that point you escape this situation somehow? i really would like a wish fulfilment thing where it's like, you are choosing what to scream at your captors but escaping also seems like. how would u do that? maybe the process almost happens but then you just like. give birth to your own god. i would really like for this to end on an empowering note. should you just like. kill the baby. that seems harsh content warnings: nonconsensual body modification/feminization, body horror, misgendering, depictions of pregnancy, childbirth, and intense vomiting. if u put deep stock in the concept of femininity or motherhood, this may not be the game for u. i am not a woman you have not made me a woman i will not carry this child/that thing is not my child and it wouldn't make me a woman to have had one anyway a woman's sole purpose is not motherhood and neither is mine you will not/cannot propagate me now you will/must all see who i really/truly am and in my resistance i will force you to see the truth: i am not a woman i am not a man i am only myself u let the fetus fall thru your fingers on the operating table. u walk away. you walk home. you are not a woman

In order to be properly outfitted with your womb, they say, you'll need to clear enough space in your body. You were never designed to bear children, after all, so the Propagator is taking you back to the drawing board. Sometime in the next three weeks, a hole is going to open up between your legs. Where there once was nothing but featureless, undisturbed skin will now be the ending of a tunnel precisely big enough just for its intended passenger and nothing else. You've seen vaginas before, but this is nothing like a vagina. Vaginas are complex pieces of biology that serve multiple satisfying functions for their owners. What you are having installed is a fleshy tube to transfer the contents of your uterus outside of your body. A birth canal in the basest sense of the term. Your hips will need to separate in order to fit it all. That thing would just get stuck in your womb and claw its way out otherwise, and no one wants that, do they. Will the bones in your pelvis just suddenly inch away from each other, pried apart by some unforgiving speculum? Or will they just break in all the right places so that new artificial cells can form within the fissures? Your silhouette will become unmistakably feminine, regardless. Even your own flesh will betray you at that point by sending fat deposits to fill the empty spaces in your hips and thighs. Your body will no longer belong to you. From now on it will be nothing but the framework for your shiny new set of sex organs. A house remodeled from the ground up for one guest's three-week stay. A woman is not the sum of her reproductive parts. No woman should ever be defined that way, no matter what she has between her legs. But you are [[not a woman->3]], and so you have become the sum of your reproductive parts.<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

A mother, they claim, will be bonded to her baby for the rest of her life once it is born. She will want nothing more than to care for her child, sacrificing anything to ensure that they grow up safe and healthy. That is how a mother is meant to act, and that vision of maternity is what you will become once they make you one. It's something to do with brain chemistry, the subtle effect of hormones on whatever cortex it is that manufactures emotions. If hormones were the unconscious needs of the living thing growing in your stomach constantly demanding care, anyway. Its desire for a mother will pulse throughout your body, slopping slowly up into your brain stem so it can slip itself through a spare wrinkle undetected. And once that happens you will never be yourself ever again. You will wake up one day and suddenly realize a singular, eternal devotion to your child. You will become loving, kind, and accomodating. Selfless. Feminine. //Maternal//, they call it. You will accept your role as mother of the Propagator's child, you will walk the halls of your new family's home wearing the maternity clothes they have prepared for you, and, most of all, you will love being pregnant. You will dream of your own fertility and smile in your sleep. You will eat what they want you to eat, behave how a mother should behave because you want to be a good example for your child. You won't drink, you won't smoke, you won't fight back anymore, you won't do anything that could possibly harm the divine vessel that is your body. Because you will no longer be living only for yourself. You will now be living solely for the benefit of that parasite in your stomach, made to think of it as your very own flesh and blood miracle from above. It will be worse than the breasts and worse than the womb because now you will be glad to have them. You will joyfully call yourself a mother, feeling that title resonate deeper into your person than anything you've ever been before. Your own mind, your one last line of defense from complete motherhood, will have turned on you. You might even forget that you're [[not a woman->6]].<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

A mother needs a womb, according to your captors, so the Propagator will be growing an equivalent inside of you. You don't know how similar it will be to an actual uterus, though, since it need only sustain a three-week gestation period. That's how long it takes to grow godspawn, they say. Less than one ninth of the time it takes to carry a normal human baby to term. Originally you imagined the followers sawing your abdomen open and then replacing everything inside with a mechanical facsimile of uterine nuts and bolts. But now you imagine a start to your motherhood infinitely more horrifying and subtle. That one day the Propagator will conjure the seed of its offspring into existence and it will start growing inside of you just like that with no prelude at all. You won't even be aware that you've already become a mother, but sooner or later your body will be forced to either adapt or die. You'd almost rather die, but you know that you will be made to adapt instead. The Propagator can warp reality in any way it sees fit. Its lies will become truth. You are an expecting mother, so you must grow a womb. You've grown a womb, so you must be a woman now. But you are [[not a woman->4]], no matter what this new reality demands of you.<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

The rest of your body isn't safe from the effects of gestation either. Your stomach will droop out over the new hole in your groin like a low-hanging fruit and the sacs on your chest will distort every shirt you own, yes, but your new body will still remain unfinished. It's part of the

None of this has happened to you yet, but it will soon. The followers who keep you trapped here assure you of that: you're going to make a great mother one day. They're a group of very sweet women who laugh playfully whenever you deny being one yourself, as if you were a child telling a ridiculous lie. Though they are your most direct captors, you have a hard time hating them in the same way that you hate the Propagator. It must have lied to these women long ago, told them that their only purpose was to aid in its proliferation of life here on Earth. Maybe if they'd never been introduced to these ideas in the first place they'd be better - or at least unaware of what they're capable of. They feed you nutrient-rich foods packed with special vitamins meant to strenghten a woman's body for childbirth and speculate gleefully about your baby's name, gender, and appearance. They say you're so lucky to experience the miracle of childbirth, they say that pregnancy is the most wonderful feeling in the world for a woman. They claim to love you like a daughter. But you know that it's not //you// that they love. No matter how accurate the version of you that exists in their heads is, they'll always have missed one crucial detail: that you are [[not a woman->7]].<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

Today is the day of your insemination. You know this because you were roused from your slumber, released from your bindings, and then strapped down to a hard bed before the sun had even risen. Best to conceive early in the day, they say. It's better for the baby. Each time you open your eyes you are swarmed by your captors. A herd of women darting here and there, preparing for what is soon to happen. They tuck a pillow behind your head, pile a feminine change of clothes by the bed, and rub your stomach to help welcome the baby. There remains something unseen in the air, however, an abundant feeling that can only be described as //heavy//. It presses down on the space between your skin and bones, circling in on itself above the vacant lot where your uterus will soon be built. The Propagator waits, like a bird of prey, to make you a mother. That feeling tightens, and none of what you'd ever expected happens in this moment. A balloon at the back of your abdomen slowly fills with fluid, growing just large enough to coat the insides of your body with a thick and rubbery skin. Your organs slip around in its wake, fleeing into any space from which they can still manage to keep both you and your alien passenger alive. This is what will now be called your womb. A seed sprouts out of the new uterine tissue stretched over the inner ridge of your spine. Though it's been planted too deep inside your body for you to be able to sense its shape, you know at once that it has already opened its eyes for the first time. The fetus pulses inside of you, sucking pieces of you into its prototypal lungs with every beat of your heart. Some imaginary child with a spoon begins to dig between your legs, excavating your new birth canal. You can feel your bones tense in preliminary stretch for your new passenger. Your flesh crawl as it manufactures new tissue. The slow drag of your body crossing you off its list of priorities. It's a beautiful, natural conception. You can hear the followers from miles away, cooing at the growth in your stomach. You can see them through heavy-lidded eyes unfolding your new maternity dress. There's a name embroidered over the breast, but it's not yours. One that they've had picked out from the beginning. Something feminine, something motherlike. If they ever figured out that you're [[not a woman->8]], they started willfully ignoring the signs long ago. They wouldn't know how to treat someone with a uterus as anything other than a woman. They don't know who you are, what your name is, or what you're capable of beyond being mother to a child. But you do.<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

The balloon in your abdomen all of a sudden deflates, as if someone has vacuum-sealed the uterine tissue back into itself - but it doesn't hurt. There's an audible snap as it connects with the fetus, digging deeply into every half-formed orifice or pore across the surface. It floats upwards, carried upon a buoyant wave of stomach acid that continues to rise further and further with every second. You sit up on the insemination table with a start, breaking the strap that held you down across the chest, and vomit profusely all over yourself. The remains of everything your midwives have fed you pool between your fingers, but you know this is not the end. Intense convulsions continue to wrack your body, stronger than anything stuck in your throat could ever naturally produce. They push against the backs of your eyes, throw your back out and stretch your mouth open wider than you thought possible so as to eject this putrid foreign object that's been placed into your body without your permission. It travels up your throat, traveling far too quickly to choke, but still agonizingly slow all the same. All that is coming out of your mouth is clear, bitter stomach acid, until -- Your legs seize up, and there go the rest of the straps on the lower half of your body. Lying in the palm of your hands is the fetus - what some might have called your child, but nothing like this creature, whom you never even wanted, who has tried to change the very essence of your identity, could ever have been yours. Midwives orbit the bed haphazardly, coming into focus now and then like an off-tilt solar system that you yourself are bending at the central axis. You look at them, failed insemination still dripping from your fingers, and scream: [[I AM NOT A WOMAN]] [[I'VE NEVER BEEN A WOMAN]] [[I WILL NEVER BE A WOMAN]]<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

{ (print: "<script>$('html').removeClass(\)</script>") (if: (passage:)'s tags's length > 0)[ (print: "<script>$('html').addClass('" + (passage:)'s tags.join(' ') + "'\)</script>") ] }

AND DESPITE ALL YOU'VE DONE TO ME, [[YOU WILL NOT MAKE ME A WOMAN->9a1]] [[YOU HAVE NOT MADE ME A WOMAN->9b1]] [[YOU WILL NEVER MAKE ME A WOMAN->9c1]]<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">(set: $a1 to true)

<center><div class="shoutlink">[["->1]]You're going to make a great mother one day[[".->1]]</div></center>

(if: $a1 is true)[I AM NOT A WOMAN](else-if: $a2 is true)[I'VE NEVER BEEN A WOMAN](else-if: $a3 is true)[I WILL NEVER BE A WOMAN] AND DESPITE ALL YOU'VE DONE TO ME, YOU WILL NOT MAKE ME A WOMAN IF YOU LOOK AT ME AND SEE [[A WOMAN'S UTERUS->10a]] [[A WOMAN'S FACE->10b]] [[A WOMAN LIVING IN A WOMAN'S BODY->10c]]<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet"> (set: $b1 to true)

(if: $a1 is true)[I AM NOT A WOMAN](else-if: $a2 is true)[I'VE NEVER BEEN A WOMAN](else-if: $a3 is true)[I WILL NEVER BE A WOMAN] AND DESPITE ALL YOU'VE DONE TO ME, YOU HAVE NOT MADE ME A WOMAN IF YOU LOOK AT ME AND SEE [[A WOMAN'S UTERUS->10a]] [[A WOMAN'S FACE->10b]] [[A WOMAN LIVING IN A WOMAN'S BODY->10c]]<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet"> (set: $b2 to true)

(if: $a1 is true)[I AM NOT A WOMAN](else-if: $a2 is true)[I'VE NEVER BEEN A WOMAN](else-if: $a3 is true)[I WILL NEVER BE A WOMAN] AND DESPITE ALL YOU'VE DONE TO ME, YOU WILL NEVER MAKE ME A WOMAN IF YOU LOOK AT ME AND SEE [[A WOMAN'S UTERUS->10a]] [[A WOMAN'S FACE->10b]] [[A WOMAN LIVING IN A WOMAN'S BODY->10c]]<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet"> (set: $b3 to true)

THEN MAYBE YOU OUGHT TO JUST PLUCK YOUR OWN LYING EYES OUT BECAUSE I AM NOT A MOTHER [[MY BODY->11a]] [[MY MIND->11b]] [[MY BEING->11c]] (set: $c1 to true)<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

THEN MAYBE YOU OUGHT TO JUST PLUCK YOUR OWN LYING EYES OUT BECAUSE I AM NOT A MOTHER [[MY BODY->11a]] [[MY MIND->11b]] [[MY BEING->11c]] (set: $c2 to true)<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

THEN MAYBE YOU OUGHT TO JUST PLUCK YOUR OWN LYING EYES OUT BECAUSE I AM NOT A MOTHER [[MY BODY->11a]] [[MY MIND->11b]] [[MY BEING->11c]] (set: $c3 to true)<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

IS NOT HERE FOR YOU TO PROPAGATE [[I WILL NEVER CARRY A CHILD, MY BLOODLINE ENDS WITH ME->12a]] [[WHETHER I HAVE A CHILD OR NOT IS A CHOICE I WILL MAKE ON MY OWN TERMS->12b]] [[I WILL HAVE MY OWN CHILD SOMEDAY THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU->12c]]<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">(set: $d1 to true)

IS NOT HERE FOR YOU TO PROPAGATE [[I WILL NEVER CARRY A CHILD, MY BLOODLINE ENDS WITH ME->12a]] [[WHETHER I HAVE A CHILD OR NOT IS A CHOICE I WILL MAKE ON MY OWN TERMS->12b]] [[I WILL HAVE MY OWN CHILD SOMEDAY THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU->12c]](set: $d2 to true)<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

IS NOT HERE FOR YOU TO PROPAGATE [[I WILL NEVER CARRY A CHILD, MY BLOODLINE ENDS WITH ME->12a]] [[WHETHER I HAVE A CHILD OR NOT IS A CHOICE I WILL MAKE ON MY OWN TERMS->12b]] [[I WILL HAVE MY OWN CHILD SOMEDAY THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU->12c]] (set: $d3 to true)<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

YET EVEN IF I DID IT IS UNIMAGINABLE THAT I WOULD EVER BE A MOTHER BECAUSE [[I AM NOT A WOMAN->13]] (set: $e1 to true)<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

AND IF I DO I WILL STILL NEVER BE A MOTHER BECAUSE [[I AM NOT A WOMAN->13]] (set: $e2 to true)<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

AND THEY WILL NEVER CALL ME MOTHER BECAUSE [[I AM NOT A WOMAN->13]] (set: $e3 to true)<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

AND SO WE DESCEND ON DOWN INTO A DEEP DARK TUNNEL OF MISUNDERSTANDING BECAUSE YOU WILL NEVER GIVE IN AND I WILL NEVER GIVE UP BUT IF YOU LISTEN TO ANYTHING I'VE SAID TO YOU THEN LISTEN TO THIS: [[IF YOU EVER TRY TO TOUCH ME AGAIN->14a]] [[IF YOU EVER TRY TO TURN ME INTO SOMETHING I AM NOT AGAIN->14b]] [[IF YOU EVER TRY TO DENY WHO I AM AGAIN->14c]]<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

I WILL TEAR YOUR PRESENCE OUT OF EVERY SINGLE CELL IN THIS NEW BODY OF MINE SO THAT IT MIGHT FINALLY BE MY OWN ONCE MORE SO THAT I CAN LIVE MY LIFE FREE OF UNWANTED WOMANHOOD SO THAT FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE I WILL NEVER HAVE TO HEAR ANYONE [[SAY:->15]]<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

<center><div class="shoutlink">"You're going to make a great [[mother->16]] one day".</center></div><link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

<center><div class="shoutlink">"You're going to make a great [[______->18.2]] one day".</center></div><link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

Writing and story concept by Wally-S (set: $a1 to false) (set: $a2 to false) (set: $a3 to false) Special thanks to: Ollie, Alicia, Robin, Si and Chris for feedback & playtesting! (set: $b1 to false)(set: $b2 to false)(set:$b3 to false) [[Read Again?->title]] (set:$c1 to false)(set: $c2 to false)(set: $c3 to false) (set:$d1 to false)(set: $d2 to false)(set:$d3 to false) (set: $e1 to false)(set: $e2 to false)(set: $e3 to false) <link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

<center><div class="shoutlink">"You're going to make a great [[woman->17]] one day".</div></center><link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

<center><div class="shoutlink">"You're going to make a great [[man->18]] one day".</center></div><link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

<center>[[And that's about all you had to say on the subject.->19]]</center><link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

IF YOU LOOK AT ME AND SEE [[A WOMAN'S UTERUS->10a]] [[A WOMAN'S FACE->10b]] [[A WOMAN LIVING IN A WOMAN'S BODY->10c]]<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">

(if: $a1 is true)[I AM NOT A WOMAN](else-if: $a2 is true)[I'VE NEVER BEEN A WOMAN](else-if: $a3 is true)[I WILL NEVER BE A WOMAN] AND DESPITE ALL YOU'VE DONE TO ME, (if: $b1 is true)[YOU WILL NOT MAKE ME A WOMAN](else-if: $b2 is true)[YOU HAVE NOT MADE ME A WOMAN](else-if: $b3 is true)[YOU WILL NEVER MAKE ME A WOMAN] IF YOU LOOK AT ME AND SEE (if: $c1 is true)[A WOMAN'S UTERUS](else-if: $c2 is true)[A WOMAN'S FACE](else-if: $c3 is true)[A WOMAN LIVING IN A WOMAN'S BODY] THEN MAYBE YOU OUGHT TO JUST PLUCK YOUR OWN LYING EYES OUT BECAUSE I AM NOT A MOTHER (if: $d1 is true)[MY BODY](else-if: $d2 is true)[MY MIND](else-if: $d3 is true)[MY BEING] IS NOT HERE FOR YOU TO PROPAGATE (if: $e1 is true)[I WILL NEVER CARRY A CHILD, MY BLOODLINE ENDS WITH ME YET EVEN IF I DID IT IS UNIMAGINABLE THAT I WOULD EVER BE A MOTHER](else-if: $e2 is true)[WHETHER I HAVE A CHILD OR NOT IS A CHOICE I WILL MAKE ON MY OWN TERMS AND IF I DO I WILL STILL NEVER BE A MOTHER](else-if: $e3 is true)[I WILL HAVE MY OWN CHILD SOMEDAY THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU AND THEY WILL NEVER CALL ME MOTHER] BECAUSE I AM NOT A WOMAN AND SO WE DESCEND ON DOWN INTO A DEEP DARK TUNNEL OF MISUNDERSTANDING BECAUSE YOU WILL NEVER GIVE IN AND I WILL NEVER GIVE UP BUT IF YOU LISTEN TO ANYTHING I'VE SAID TO YOU THEN LISTEN TO THIS: [[IF YOU EVER TRY TO TOUCH ME AGAIN->14a]] [[IF YOU EVER TRY TO TURN ME INTO SOMETHING I AM NOT AGAIN->14b]] [[IF YOU EVER TRY TO DENY WHO I AM AGAIN->14c]]<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet">