#Police removed my bra

[saveralivehindi]

Odisha, Bhuvneshwar News: पुलिस ने मेरी ब्रा उतारी और मेरे ब्रेस्ट में मारा! ओडिसा में आर्मी ऑफिसर की पत्नी के साथ दरिंदगी

ओडिसा के भुवनेश्वर से एक चौकाने वाली घटना सामने आई है, कहां आर्मी अधिकारी की पत्नी का आर��प है कि पुलिस अधिकारी ने उनके साथ दरिंदगी की है. आर्मी ऑफिसर अधिकारी की पत्नी ने आरोप लगाया “15 तारीख को लगभग रात को 01 बजे अपना रेस्टोरेंट बंद करने के बाद अपने घर जा रही थी कुछ कुछ गाड़ी ने हमारा रास्ता रोका था और हमसे लड़ने की कोशिश की थी. उनसे बच बचा के हम लोग जब गाड़ी में बैठे, उसका एफआईआर करने भरतपुर…

[literallydontknowdontcare]

Don't Try Me

[FNAF Movie] Vanessa x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: angst (happy ending), smut (rough), annoyed top!Vanessa, bottom!femreader, established relationship, Vanessa wears a strap, Mike being scared of Foxy, Reader also being a security guard

a/n: this is my first time writing since years ago. Ignore the present/ past tense f ups, I can’t be bothered to fix it sorry </3 

w/c: 1663

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You should have known not to tease Vanessa. From your hand brushing against hers when Mike wasn’t looking, to you bending over to ‘help’ with building a fort Abby wanted for the animatronics, it was all too obvious for Vanessa not to notice. It just so happened to be that she was intentionally teasing you as well by avoiding your advances.

“I’ll get the sheets for the roof”, Vanessa says, rolling over and standing up from her current position underneath the fort. You looked between her walking away and Mike who was currently eyeing the Fox animatronic in fear. 

“I’ll help!”, you pipe up, deciding that saving Mike from killer robots wasn’t as good as possibly getting railed. As you walk in the dark room, you find Vanessa about to bend over to reach the sheets. “Need help officer?”, you practically purr in her ear, squeezing in-between Vanessa and the box shelves at the last second, making her grind against your ass. She sighs behind you, allowing her hand to drift down your back and onto your ass as you stand back up.

“You’re needy today”, she murmured, tilting your head upwards to meet her gaze. You pouted. “That’s what happens when you ignore your girlfriend and take the shifts where you know I’m free”, you say.

Vanessa rolled her eyes, stepping away from you and taking the sheets off your hands. “I don’t choose my shifts. You act as if I’d rather lock up drunken middle aged men then wake up in our bed”. She headed towards the door.

“Maybe those men would touch me more than you do”, you grumble in a soft tone so she can’t overhear. Unfortunately, your girlfriend was sharper than foxy’s hook, meaning she immediately whipped around and narrowed her eyes. “Would you like to repeat that?”, she said strictly. Knowing you were way out of line, you should have said nothing. But being deprived from any sort of sexual touch for a good week, you doubled down.

“I said”, you took a step forward, “Maybe the same drunken men you locked up tonight could find the time to touch me more often and better than you do”. Vanessas jaw clenched, her hand drifting down her stomach in an annoying attractive fashion to her radio, shutting off the person beginning to talk on the other line. For a good solid 10 seconds, it was completely silent. No annoying static of the police radio, no animatronics singing and dancing in the background, just you and your extremely pissed girlfriend in an almost pitch black room, listening to the sounds of each others rapid breathing.

Vanessa made the first move. She pushed you roughly against the shelves, her hands immediately reaching for your breasts underneath your shirt. You gasped out loud as she ripped open the buttons and pushed her face against the top of your breasts that threatened to spill out of your lace bra. She began sucking and biting the top of the soft flesh, distracting you from her hands that were now reaching to unclasp her belt and pull out something unexpected.

“Vanessa, I-“, you began, your head spinning from the quickness of it all. She removed herself from your breasts and began pinching your left nipple with one hand, the other hand still being mysteriously missing in the dark. 

“What, isn’t this what you wanted?”, you could almost see the grin emitting from her cockiness. “I hope you didn’t expect me to pepper your pretty princess pussy with kisses, did you?”, she teased. You whimper at her question, a knot starting to grow in your stomach. She stopped squeezing your nipple and quickly pulled down your shorts, slapping your panties harshly, making you jump. “Answer me”, she demanded.

But you couldn’t. With what little light was left in the room, you simply stared at her through your eyelashes, your breasts rising and falling as you plead with your eyes.

She noticed. “Not good enough, is it”, she sighed, “So disappointing”. You widen your eyes, not because of her disappointment, but because of her hand finally returning from wherever it went. *Holy shit*

In the dim light you could just barely make out a large mushroom tip strap. You looked back up at Vanessa, her hand softly stroking it, her lips now almost touching yours, and a look that made you think she was about to swallow you whole. 

“Panties down”, she said, one hand heading to rest on your throat whilst the other tapped on your thighs to spread them open. You blush, your senses heightened as all you could think, see, hear, touch and smell was Vanessa. You pried your purple laced panties off of you; to no ones surprise, they were soaked from your arousal, so they took a little effort to pry off. 

If you could sense a smirk, you definitely were sensing one from Vanessa right now. The initial touch from her strap was soft, almost caring. She gently rubbed it along your folds, smiling at the noises it made when in contact with your dripping entrance. She began to slowly push the tip in, before taking it back out and slapping it roughly against your already puffy clit. You jump with a loud cry before Vanessa’s hand slaps over your mouth. It’s quiet again for a few seconds as you both listen for anyone realising how long you guys were taking. The music from Freddy started. Good.

She turned back around and narrowed her eyes. “Always whining, aren’t you?”

“You ask a lot of questions”, you blurt.

With that, she roughly shoves the whole strap inside. Your breath hitched as you clasped your hands at the back of Vanessa’s neck, pulling her neck closer to your mouth as an attempt to stop yourself from making any loud noises. She thrusted the strap in and out rapidly, her hands grasping your hips and digging her fingers in so hard you knew purple bruises would emerge. Your pussy clenched harshly around the length, making it harder for Vanessa to move. You were gasping for air at this point, your legs faltering with every movement. Vanessa moved her thumb to your clit and pressed down hard, making you cry out. “Slo- slow down”, you manage to get out. Her pace slows, before realising she was still mad at you, and she picked up the pace again.

The shelves behind you began to rattle as her pace increased and you were clinging to her waist like your life depended on it. You couldn’t silence your moans anymore; it just felt too good. “Nessy, fuck, I need to-“, you were cut off as she shoved two fingers into your mouth. “Wait”, she barked. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your ability to think gone. Just as you thought you were about to lose it, she pulled out entirely before slamming back into your flooded pussy. Letting out a silent scream, you cum around her strap, scratching your nails down her clothed shirt. She let you ride out your high, slowing down her pace before pulling out to let you recover.

You flop your head beneath her neck, letting your breath get back to normal as Vanessa softly rubbed your back and hip bruises. She hadn’t really said much. She was the less talkative one of you two during sex; she preferred letting her body and facial expressions say what she needed to get across. But her not saying anything after was worrying you.

You lift up your head to her reaching for a towel on the shelf behind you. As she began to clean up your thighs and her hands, you decided to break the silence.

“Are we alright?”

Vanessa paused. “Hm?”

“Are we good? Are we okay? Is everything copacetic?”, you quote what she said to you when you first met.

The corner of her mouth twitched, though she threw the towel on the floor and began to fix her pants.

“I am trying, you know”, she says grimly. You tilt your head. “With the crime rate going up, and the shifts they are making me take, and.. all of ‘this”, she gestures to the door, referring to the animatronics, Mike and Abby. “Look, I’ll try and see if anyone can fill in for me. Alright?” She looked as if she were about to cry.

You wince. “Vanessa.. no”, you felt immensely guilty for making her angry just so you could have some attention.

“No?”

“I’m sorry”, you cup your hands around her face and she closes her eyes. “I know you’re exhausted. I shouldn’t have said what I said to make you act out. And even though I miss you, other people out there need someone like you. I can wait, I promise”, you lean in, gently kissing her cheek.

Vanessa swallows the lump in her throat. She hated crying. She hated this room. She hated what her father made her do. But she could never hate you.

“I love you. It’s just- I love you”, she says softly.

“I know”

She leans in to kiss you when all of a sudden: “VANESSA? Y/N? How’s it going with those sheets???”, Mikes voice rings from outside. In the distance, you could hear that the animatronics song had finished, and the stage was now playing disco music. Abby squealed with delight in the background.

“Yeah, Mike, we found em. Give us a second”, Vanessa called out.

You blushed as she helped you redress, fixing your hair and makeup so it looked like you didn’t go through a trainwreck. She smiled as you fixed her tie and picked up the sheets needed for the fort. As you dragged her to the door and opened it to find Mike squeezed in a corner, watching Foxy on the other side of the hallway with immense suspicion and fear, Vanessa made a mental note to remind her father that killing you wouldn’t be an option.

[faef43]

PLS LOOK THE REBLOGGED POST I MADE OF THIS POST TO CONTINUE MY TIPS

HERE ARE SOME TIPS PLUS STORES TO AVOID

ALWAYS ADDING MORE SO CHECK BACK

I’ve been lifting for awhile and have collected some good tips and tricks on how to not get caught or be put in a system

-CAMERAS/MAIN TIPS-

I mainly lift small things like makeup, jewelry, small skincare, rings, pins, if it’s a good day maybe small lotions, but lifting clothes tips are coming soon!! (fixing spelling/grammar errors <3)

First of all, wear a mask and if you can style your hair in a way you usually don’t or use a beanie, bucket hat, baseball cap, never a sun hat way too suspicious. Ex. for hair: braids, space buns, slicked back, etc. I wouldn’t suggest lifting if you have brightly colored hair unless you want to go as far as to wear a realistic enough looking natural wig. Never wear sunglasses with a mask or a hat on, very suspicious, they will catch on. While finding blind spots never just turn around to face the wall and start stuffing your pockets and bag(s), instead stand at a 3/4 angle and be slick, I suggest lifting things while walking through a crowed isle, section, or doing it while walking, this one usually works if you have something small you can make it look like you’re adjusting your sleeves. ALWAYS GRAB 2 OF THE ITEM U WANT 2 LIFT, make the second one less apparent you have it, but if you take two and always keep one apparently in your hand, the cameras will be fooled. You have to have some sort of fingernails to scratch off price tags/barcodes/stickers, trust me when lifting you don’t want those on there. Take them off, rip them up and stuff it in your pocket or stuff somewhere non apparent, never throw them on the ground, super obvious. Don’t wear all baggy clothing, it’s really suspicious, always do the half half trick, half of your outfit baggy, half tight. Ex. Really tight shirt, hella baggy pants, really baggy hoodie, tight ass jeans or leggings. That way they won’t suspect you. If doing the baggy hoodie, always wear a secure sports bra underneath if u wear bras, great for slipping stuff into when pretending to adjust your bra, make sure your double of the product you want to lift is visible. By all means do not steal from target, they have high trained LP, workers that dress up as normal shoppers that they send to areas where they seek suspicion to spy on you, they keep you in a data base and share info/pics of you with other targets, cameras are nearly always monitored, store security is present, they let you walk out with things but eventually will confront you. The decision to call the police has already been made, target is a scary place, if you are gonna lift do only a 3-6 dollar thing, only once. Their employees count clothes for dressing rooms often times, pretty scary place stay safe. Some cameras are smoke detectors/speakers,boxes on the ceiling ect. Usually they’ll have some sort of light that’s always on, they look a little chunky or too far away from the ceiling. Claire’s has a ton of these so be carful, but their earrings don’t have any censors on them so they’re a great store for beginners. Interact with this post and I’ll add more too this blog♡ . -CLOTHING TIPS- If a clothing store does not have fitting rooms, don’t even try, they’ll immediately catch on+security cameras are your number one snitch. You’re gonna want to pay attention to if store employees suspect you. Ex. Fixing up areas that you’re at or around u, constant asking if you’re finding everything ok, maybe they’ll offer a store basket or bag, asking if you need anything in specific, any constant attention really. If they are leave the store, come back like a week later and try again. Your gonna wanna bring a hook with you to remove ink tags/clothing alarms while in fitting room, keep it down and try to pick a fitting room away from others to avoid suspicion. Some stores have employees stand in empty stalls next to you and listen so be aware and careful. If there are price tags try stuffing them behind the mirror or on in the landings on the floor, they’re sometimes rubber, don’t leave shit on the floor, if they already suspect u, they’ll check the fitting room when you come out. As for the alarms/ink tags, put them in ur pocket and discreetly shove them in another piece of clothing, remember to ALWAYS CHECK POCKETS ON CLOTHING.im abt to max out, look at repost of this from me 4more

ALWAYS CHECK POCKETS/COMPARTMENTS ON CLOTHING. Other lifters could have stuffed clothing alarms or price tags in there, be safe and check before trying to lift. No as where to conceal these clothing items, if you have the baggy hoody, (I suggest wearing a baggy shirt underneath too, always wear that sports bra if u wear bras{binders can also work it’s just hella uncomfy I’ve tried it})put 1-3 tops on under ur baggy T then put ur hoodie back on. Make sure they don’t count items b4 going into changing rooms. If they do, try taking a hoodie on some sort of hanger, taking it off the hanger, putting 1-2 shirts on the hanger, then put the hoodie/zip up back on. Great for lifting, if they confront you say you didn’t know and you were just tossing things in the cart, get out of there fast afterwards. It’s suspicious if you come in with a ton of clothes then don’t buy anything, sometimes you gotta buy some to win some. (Ex. I’m wearing 3 shirts under my og shirt which would add up to about 35 bucks, I buy a cheap tank top for 15, they don’t suspect me and I get freebies)

[theeggoman]

Being "Too White" Is A Myth.

Sometimes I worry that I'm just a white person pretending to be Latino (because when you're mixed race you're always thinking that you're not enough) but then I remember how every single person in my foster home including the adults referred to me as a "Wetback" or a "Beaner" or a "Fat Mexican" or an "Alien" instead of simply calling me by my white sounding first name because to white people, you will never be enough. It doesn't matter how much or how little white blood you have, in America if you're mixed with a single drop of anything that isn't white, you're not and will never be white.

I wasn't white when I was being tackled and forced down naked on the floor by the police at 12, I wasn't white when I was put in ESL at 8 even though english is my first language, I wasn't white when Christian religious leaders were explaining how I was cursed with the Mark of Cain to have a "skin of blackness" and being Latino made me inherently evil, I wasn't white when I was being sexually assaulted at 5 because I was "naturally promiscuous" and "born looking older" and "asking for it," I wasn't white when I was tackled by boarder patrol in south Texas and detained over night in a holding facility until my grandparents could come get me out, I wasn't white when my friend's mom took me bra shopping and insisted she had to be in the dressing room while I changed to make sure I didn't steal anything, I wasn't white when the doctor wrote my fucking race on my birth certificate while I was being pushed out of my Mexican mother who had to spend hours dealing with the racist medical staff who refused to let my white father into the delivery room because they didn't believe I was his child.

And now I get on tik tok and see people accusing mixed race children of being "white washed." They say we don't experience racism because we're "white passing." They tell us we're grasping for straws and we're stealing from our own fucking culture. They say we're "spicy white," that our blood is diluted, that we're not real.

Are we not real in the same way that our country did not legally recognize our white parents until the 1960's? Are we not real in the same way that we were legally declared bastards who couldn't inherit our own father's last name, his property, his money, our childhood homes? Not real in the way we weren't permitted to attend our white parent's funerals by their white family members? Not real in the way we weren't issued fucking social security cards? Were we not real when our parents couldn't "really" legally get married? Were we not real when our POC parent was shot dead for daring to fall in love with a white person? Were we not real when were named after our POC grandmothers? Were we not real when our White grandmothers cried at our birth and asked why we had to come out "so dark?"

Am I not real when I light the candles on my Ofrenda on November 1st and 2nd, when I bring fresh carnations and Pan Dulce for my brother because he was too young to have a favorite candy for me to put at his grave? Am I not real when I spend 6 hours slow cooking bone broth for Birria after removing all the seeds from the Guajillo chilis so my white friends don't die? Am I not real when I translate for a single mom who wants to use the library printer? Am I not real when I braid my curls? When I wash the Serepa? When I run from owls?

And am I not real when I jam out to country music? When I go camping with my friends? When I celebrate Christmas before Three Kings Day? Am I not real when I choose to embrace both sides of my culture? When I put my foot down and decide I am not half of anything, I am entirely both?

I don't care if you think I'm too white. Don't put your insecurities on me just because you don't wanna learn Spanish.

[lericekrispie]

A bad bitch's guide to practical fashion

Hello! Just some realistic tips and tricks I've learned through living life to help me with some of my conditions while still slaying. Things I deal with that you may be able to relate to-

Anxiety, Adhd, Sensory Issues, Heavyset, Lite Eczema, Acne

Keep a spare change of clothes in your car/bag

Sometimes, I want to wear an outfit that's outside of my comfort zone. Maybe it's wearing something that shows off my curves more, or a fabric that I can barely tolerate. And I push myself out of my comfort zone to try something new! But sometimes I realize halfway through the day that if I don't change right this second, I will have a panic attack and die. Keeping a pair of SAFE clothes in your car/bag is always a good idea! I have sweats, a sweatshirt, and shorts in my car at all times. Also great if you are chaffing/having a bad skin day and need to change unexpectedly.

Buy clothes that fit you

I have this problem of always trying on things and thinking hmmm... maybe it'll fit in a year, once I start working out, loose some weight... NO! Clothes fit you, you aren't supposed to fit clothes! If you do loose some weight, then you get to go shopping again :) and buy more clothes. But you are shopping for present you right now, your beautiful, amazing, fashionable self.

Cut your tags/clothes up

I was told by my parents to not cut my tags, and I was always afraid to. But I'm telling you, you bought those clothes, these are yours, do whatever you want with what you own. Cut the tag if it'll make you feel better. If the arms are too tight cut a slit. On the same note, if you want to tie something shorter with a hair-tie, fucking do it! If it's not short enough crop it. I promise the clothes police won't come after you.

don't put up with terrible fabrics

Don't buy something if you know wearing it is going to be a chore b/c of the sensation. Also, here are some tips for some fabrics

leggings under jeans if you can tolerate leggings > jeans

fishnets under jeans w/ holes if fishnets > jeans

colorful sweatpants (neon green, orange, red, ect.) as a comfy fashion statement

a nice turtleneck under a t-shirt if turtleneck > shirt

long socks (men's section rocks) to avoid blisters on ankles

don't put up with terrible jewelry

I personally love jewelry, but can only keep some things on for so long.

try gloves instead of rings. you can make gloves out of fishnets/tights

try woven/braided bracelets that are not removable w/o scissors > metal clunky bracelets (anklets too)

try skin markers/henna > annoying hand jewelry

If you are trying to branch out but are self-conscious, try to find a safety jacket

just a jacket that you can slip on and off, something light, that you can zip up if you get self-conscious and will make you feel better, but something you can carry/tie around your waist if you are feeling yourself.

My makeup if I'm having bad acne/can't handle the feeling

Concealer- over redness

Body stick/blush- on eyes and cheeks, and nose

Vaseline/Chapstick on lips, can put Vaseline on eyelids for shine (can clog pores be careful)

Mascara

Takes like 15 minutes also if ur in a rush!

For my fellas with boobas who hate bras

here are alternatives!

Trans tape- havn't tried but have heard good things

Breast petals- personally they are expensive, so I mostly use bandaids. Always a toss up if you are going to rip up the nip. NOT FUN! DO NOT RECCOMEND! Only do so if you don't care about having scabs on the girls. Or are poor, like me, and have to use bandaids.

Just don't wear a bra. I mostly go for this option, I feel so free. Very gender affirming, love a bad-bitch who doesn't wear a bra. I save so much money. You have no idea. SO MUCH MONEY. I also love never feeling the pain of a bra, the idea of putting one on is so foreign to me now. I never realized how much pain I was in b4.

This is my advice for now, hope it helps! If you have anything to share pls feel free to! <3

[beardedmrbean]

A female student at a university in Tehran stripped to her underwear in an act of protest after being harassed by campus security officers over her hijab.

Videos circulating widely on social media show the unidentified student sitting outside the campus in her underwear while the security guards surrounded her.

Another video shows her walking around the campus in her bra and knickers while stunned fellow students film her on their mobile phones.

Her act of resistance began after a confrontation inside Azad University’s science and research centre on Saturday, when security forces physically attacked the student because she was not wearing a headscarf.

In response to having her clothes torn, she chose to remove her remaining garments as a protest, according to Iranian student social media news channel, the Amir Kabir newsletter and witnesses who spoke to The Telegraph.

Multiple witnesses confirmed her subsequent detention by the authorities. Video footage showed security officers abducting her from the campus.

Officers forcibly detain student

About 10 security guards were captured on video forcibly bundling the young woman into a vehicle. The footage showed a group of officers overwhelming her before she was detained.

“Oh God, how many of them are attacking just one person?” one onlooker was heard saying. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” another said.

“Around noon, near the entrance of the faculty, I saw a girl being grabbed and forcibly taken by security forces,” one witness told The Telegraph from Tehran.

“She wasn’t wearing a headscarf. Then they reached the security building near the entrance, where a male and a female security guard grabbed her and tried to take her into the office with force.

“She resisted, and her hoodie was torn off her body, it made her very angry and she took off the rest of her clothes.

“She angrily yelled at them and took off her trousers - she sat outside the campus for a few minutes and the officer became more aggressive.

“I couldn’t see much but, a few minutes after she started walking, several plain-clothes officers ambushed her and forced her into a car.”

Student media outlets reported that she suffered injuries during the arrest, including severe head trauma after being struck against a vehicle. Witnesses said traces of blood were visible at the scene.

#Girl of Science and Research

The footage has been widely shared in Iran and the student has already become a powerful symbol of resistance, drawing nationwide attention under the hashtag: “Girl of Science and Research.”

“If courage had a face,” one user posted on X with the girl’s picture. “That brave girl is my leader,” another user wrote.

Amir Mahjoub, the director of public relations at the university, said that she was transferred to a “police station” and claimed that she is under “severe mental stress and suffering from psychological disorders”.

The Farhikhtegan newspaper, affiliated with the university, also claimed, citing “official and unofficial sources” that the student has “severe psychological and mental issues”.

The report added that, after being handed over to the police by university security staff, she has been hospitalised in a psychiatric facility.

Whereabouts and condition unknown

There has been no further information about her whereabouts or condition.

Amnesty International has urged Iranian authorities to release the girl “immediately and unconditionally”.

It is not the first time that officials and media affiliated with the Islamic Republic have accused protesters of “mental disorders” and forcibly placed them in psychiatric institutions. The protest echoes earlier acts of civil disobedience, notably that of Vida Movahed, known as “the Girl of Enghelab Street”.

That show of defiance gained international attention in 2017 when a woman removed her headscarf and held it aloft on the tip of a stick while standing to protest against the mandatory hijab.

Observers have drawn parallels between these demonstrations, viewing them as key moments in Iranian women’s ongoing struggle for personal freedoms.

After the September 2022 death in custody of 22-year-old Mahsa Amini, and the subsequent protests, Iranian universities have also faced heightened repression and intensified control. The protests led to acts of civil disobedience by Iranian women and girls against the mandatory hijab.

New stricter laws

All women in Iran must conceal their hair with a headscarf and wear loose-fitting trousers under their coats while in public but a growing number of Iranian women have appeared in public without head coverings.

Iranian police and security forces have intensified their enforcement of the rules. A new bill making its way through Iran’s parliament is set to harden the regulations governing how women and men can dress in public, but authorities have started enforcing it before its formal approval.

Article 50 of the bill says anyone found “naked, semi-naked, or wearing clothing deemed improper in public” will be immediately arrested and handed over to judicial authorities.

The bill also implements gender segregation across a wide range of settings, including universities, hospitals, educational and administrative centres, parks and tourist sites.

People found in breach of the new rules also face a ban on leaving the country and using social media for a period of six months to two years.

“These girls will one day bring down Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, Iran’s future belongs to free women, not the mullahs,” a Tehran student told The Telegraph.

“She’ll be remembered as a hero by many women,” she said of the girl who protested on Saturday. “After this regime falls, her picture will be everywhere in Iran, like Mahsa Amin’s and many more.”

[obxone]

Rafe's Actions (Part 1)

Unedited-- ~2.6k words

I wasn't sure I would post this. It feeds off another longer fic that I have been working out and starting to write. It'll be longer (like 20 or so parts), but this one is only two. It's dark and it's vulnerable.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, non-con attempt, dark elements.

You couldn’t believe it had happened as it had. It had started out as a magical night and so promising. Never did you dream that you would see that side of him directed at you. You had seen it before, plenty of times, but it had just never been directed at you. Others had warned you, told you to be careful, and you hadn’t listened. You thought you could be the one to soften him. 

You stared at the blacktop, the cold numb coating you like a blanket of ice, while you walked down the empty road. It was nearing midnight and the rain storm had cleared out. You were soaked to the bone, cold and muddy. Your feet ached and were raw from walking several miles barefoot through Kildare. You knew you couldn’t go home, not like this. You didn’t feel safe there anyways. He knew how to get to you anywhere you could go, but one place. The Chateau. 

You moved off the road when you got to the driveway leading to your refuge. You hadn’t even worked through what you would say or do about what happened. There was no lie you could tell that would excuse your appearance or even your mental state right now. How you could explain what happened to you without them flipping out? 

It was only getting colder as the wind seemed to pick up now that you were getting closer to the marsh. You wrapped my arms around your waist, hugging yourself for warmth, relieved to see the Chateau come into view. 

Pope’s voice called out your name once you rounded the corner of the house and stepped into the backyard. You looked up from the muddy drive to see him and the other pogues rising from their places around a small fire. Relief washed through you and a fresh set of tears sprung up now that you were finally safe. You had made it before he had a chance to find you. 

“Oh my god,” Sarah rose from John B’s lap. Her eyes were wide. 

You looked nothing like you had earlier tonight. The beautiful summer dress that Sarah had helped you pick out was ruined. Mud caked on the hem, blood staining near the rips of the fabric where he had dug into your skin trying to hold you down. The skirt was hanging half off torn near your hip and the top half was slightly torn displaying the white lace bra you had on that was now also stained with mud and blood. You had fallen in your attempts to get away from him. The sod of the golf course was unforgiving in a rainstorm.

It happened in a blur, hands touching you. A warm palm cradled the side of your ace as brown eyes stared back at you. 

“What happened?” Sarah asks. Her tone full of worry. “What did he do?” She pleaded as you stared at the fire in the distance. Warmth. 

You press past her nearing the fire. You hiss from the harsh burn of the fire's warmth seeping into your cold and raw skin. 

“Hey, hey,” JJ comes closer as the others all stared wide-eyed. His touch is gentle as he guides your chin to look at him. “What happened?”

“We got in an argument,” you whisper, tears blurring your vision. Your voice cracked as you tried to explain. “He.. h-he… Ummm.” You shift, wrapping your arms tighter. Pope comes closer, but you shake your head pulling away from him. “I just need a minute,” you be, stepping too close to the fire oblivious to how easily your skirt could catch. Your focus instead was on not being touched too much. 

“Okay,” he reassures you taking a step back, his hands lifted. JJ removes his hand from your face and takes a small step back. 

“What do you need Baby?” JJ asks, his voice gentle, full of caution.

“We need to get you checked out,” Kiara speaks up. You don't look at her and she says your name, her voice shaking. “Can we call someone? An ambulance? The police?”

“No police,” You hear yourself respond, a sharp edge to your voice, while clinching your hands into fists so hard your nails pierce the skin of your palms. “No police.”

“Okay, no police,” JJ says. He reaches for you again, but you turn your face away.

John B shifts in your peripheral vision. His hands lifted in caution as well. “Did Rafe do this?”

You could hear the venom in his voice and see JJ’s jaw tick as he grows angry at the realization. Your heart clenches at the mention of his name. You sob harder as your legs weaken and you collapse into the dirt.

“Okay, that’s enough for now,” Pope comments moving closer but you flinch away. Your fingers dig into the dirt at your knees as you try to focus on breathing and not having another panic attack.  

“She needs an ambulance!” Kie cries. 

“No!” You shake your head. “He’s a kook, no consequences.”

“She’s right,” JJ spoke, his voice laced with so much anger. 

Pope cleared his throat, lowering his hands. “Can we carry you inside? We need to see your injuries if we can’t call an ambulance.”

“I’m okay,” you respond, your body sagging with exhaustion. “I’ll be fine right here.”

“No, you won’t,” Kie says, her voice broken as she cries behind you. “Please let us call someone or get you inside.” She gets closer, her hands on your back. You shake your head, but don’t push her touch away and she takes it as a cue. “Sarah, help me!”

Sarah moves quickly to wrap her arm across your back and they lift you to your feet. 

“Someone get the door,” Sarah says as she stares at you, gauging if you are being pushed too far. Pope races ahead of you all. 

“I’m going to fucking kill him!” JJ seethes behind you, but you don’t hear anything else as the door closes behind you and they usher you to the bathroom. You are lowered onto the toilet lid while Kiara digs in John B’s medicine cabinet and sink storage for a first aid kit. 

“How does a shower sound?” Sarah asks crouching at your feet. “It’ll help get you warm and cleaned up a little.”

“Okay,” you whisper, your hand grasping hers tightly. “Okay.”

She nods and straightens up and turns the shower on blast, the water set to hot. In moments it’s steaming as she turns to grab a towel from the linen closet. She glances at the open bathroom door to see Pope pacing in the hall. “Pope, can you give us some privacy?”

“Sure thing,” he says, scrubbing his hand through his hair with one last look at you and you see the panic and worry clashing inside of him. You knew Pope and you knew he wanted to do the correct thing and call 911, but he wouldn’t, not with you telling him no. 

“She’ll need a change of clothes,” Kie says rising with the kit in hand along with rubbing alcohol and a stack of cotton pads. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

“I’ve got some,” JJ replies, he hesitates at the bathroom door. His blue eyes are glued to you and you can see the war in him raging. He wanted to break Rafe’s face, but just like Pope he wouldn’t because you didn’t want him to. You give him a reassuring nod and he goes quickly into his room you hear drawers opening and closing.

“Okay, come on,” Sarah’s voice is careful and it makes your heart ache more with her being so gentle as she helps you stand and unzips the dress. It falls to the floor and she looks away, tears pooling in her eyes. 

“Dammit,” JJ’s heartbreaking voice says from the door and you look at him as your chin trembles and tears flood your vision. He winces taking it all in before looking away. 

“It’s okay, go,” you hear yourself say and he nods, hanging his head before going to the living room. “I can do the rest,” you say to Sarah, your voice shaking, but your determination to keep some shred of dignity surfacing. She nods and goes with her hand pressed to her mouth to muffle any sounds. 

She shuts the door and you take a look in the mirror and grip the counter to steady yourself at the sight before you. Mud and blood were caked in your hair, your makeup smudged all over your face, and bright red scratches down your throat and chest and on your thighs. Your underwear barely hanging on and an open wound on your ribs. Your lip was busted, a black eye was already showing, a blood trail down from your temple dried to your skin, and a bruising handprint around your neck and collarbone. Your wrists and forearms also bruising with handprints. You look down at your legs cataloging bruises and scratches in various places. Both hips were already bruising from him forcing and holding onto the hard ground and a round dark bruise on your stomach had already formed where he had punched and kicked you.

You turn away and unbuckle your bra before stepping into the shower. You let the hot water sear your skin as the water turns brown at your feet. You use JJ’s body wash and shampoo to get cleaned, hissing when your wounds sting from the suds and the water. The familiar smell bringing you some comfort. 

After the shower, you step out of the bathroom clutching the towel. JJ lifts his head. He had been crying. He sits with his elbows braced on his knees, his hands folded under his chin. Sarah and Kie both come out of the kitchen with John B and Pope hot on their heels. 

“Clothes?” You ask, clutching the towel tighter. 

“On my bed,” JJ gets to his feet and starts to come closer, but you take a step back and see a neatly folded pile on his bed. You go in and shut the door before pulling on the clothes. The gym shorts and the sweatshirt belonged to JJ, but the sports bra you were sure belonged to Kie. You keep the sweatshirt off knowing someone will need to patch up the open wounds. Everyone stares at you when you emerge from JJ’s room. 

“Can I help you?” Sarah asks, the first aid kit in her hand. You nod once, sinking into the empty sofa. JJ clenches his hands into fists as he takes stock of every mark or bruise now that the mud and blood were washed off. She moves closer kneeling on the floor before working on you. You try to muffle any sounds of pain with the deeper wounds as she cleans them with rubbing alcohol. After she finishes patching you she touches the bruises checking for severe damage that would need medical attention. You flinch and dig your nails into the sofa as she presses against the bruise on your stomach. 

“Should we call the cops?” Pope asks.

You shake your hand, hands gripping Sarah’s wrists. “No!”

“Okay, it’s okay,” she whispers. “No cops.”

“Rafe needs to be in jail!” Kiara responds, but you shake your head. You knew how this worked.

“No,” you repeat, your tone final. 

“He won’t. He’s a kook.” JJ gets up and starts to pace after agreeing with you. You let go of Sarah and she resumes her work. Once she’s finished you wince as you pull the sweatshirt on before pulling your messy wet hair out from the collar. 

“Do you have a brush?” You ask looking at John B. He nods going and grabbing it from his room. He returns, but Kie takes it and moves closer. She sits on the back of the couch behind you and slowly beings to brush out your hair. Kiara finishes brushing your hair. Her arms fold around you as she cries squeezing you back into her. You pat her hand and nod, tears gathering in your own eyes again. She lets go and gets up to give the brush back to John B before sitting on the counter near the others. Her brown eyes watching you as she tries to get her emotions under control. You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself as you settle into a quiet moment.

“I got you,” JJ says before going into his room. He comes back with a blanket and places it around you to cocoon you in warmth. He starts to move away, but you grasp his hand. He tips his head in question, but another tug lets him know. “Okay,” he whispers before sinking into the sofa next to you, pulling you into his side. His arm wraps over you as you rest curled up into his side. Your legs pulled under the blanket as well with only your head visible.

“Here.” Pope approaches carefully with a water bottle. “You need to drink water.” JJ takes it before removing the cap and handing it to you once you stick your hand out. You take it and sip, appreciating the hydration.

“Thank you, Pope,” you murmur handing the bottle back to JJ. He takes it and screws the lid on before looping his arm back around you. 

“John B,” you say and his head snaps to you. Sarah sat on his lap and they were in their own bubble. You could tell Rafe’s actions had taken a toll on Sarah too. He was her big brother after all. “Do you mind if I stay here tonight? My family is in NYC for a few days.”

“Stay as long as you like Cupcake.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, an attempt of a smile at your favored nickname, and you snuggle back into JJ’s side. You peek up at him and he is watching you. Worry creased his forehead. “Are you staying?”

He nods once before leaning down. His lips pressed to your forehead. “I go anywhere you go right now.”

“Thank you.”

“We are all staying,” Kie says, adjusting her spot on the counter. “We are stronger in numbers and if Rafe comes looking for you I would rather us all be here.”

Everyone verbally agrees with her. 

“Thanks, guys,” you smile weakly. “I’m sorry-”

“Nope,” JJ cuts you off. His head shaking. “Don’t you dare apologize for that asshole!”

— — — —

The next day you wake up to see JJ awake, but still lying next to you. You had fallen asleep on his chest, but he didn’t seem to mind. His arms wrapped around you as you both shared the blanket. His fingers are gentle as they skim across your back eliciting goosebumps. 

“Sleep okay?” He asks. 

You bob your head yes, before putting your head back down and listening to his heartbeat. He sighs, pressing his lips to the crown of your head before looking at the others as everyone seems to stir at once.

“Did you?” You finally ask. 

“I did,” he confirms tightening his arms around you. His fingers now playing with your semi-curly hair after it dried in your sleep.

“Can you take me home?”

He pauses all movements and you lift my head to look at him. “You aren’t going home alone Baby.”

You frown. “I need clothes JJ. And I need a moment to grasp the situation without five pairs of eyes on me.”

He frowns staring at you. You could see the argument rolling through his mind. He didn’t want you out of his sight and if the roles had been reversed you would do the same. 

“Please,” you beg. “Just a few hours and then I come back here. I don’t have my phone, my wallet, or even my house keys on me. You know my mom's one rule.”

“I do,” he huffs before squeezing you tighter again. “I just want you safe.”

“I am. I’m the safest I could be right now.”

He smiles, blushing a little. “Fine. I have to help JB anyways. So four hours, that’s all you get.”

“Deal.”

(Part 2)

[transfloridaresources]

[Video ID: An Afro-Latina trans woman, Angelique Godwin, stands at a podium in front of a supportive crowd behind her. The podium has a sign on it that reads 'Equality Florida. Censorship (crossed out) Freedom!' /End ID]

Video transcript:

Let me just start by saying, hi everyone. My name is Angelique Godwin and I am a Afro-Latina trans woman (crowd cheers) not only living in Florida but leading the way for my people and my community - and not just the trans community, but every single letter in the LGBTQIA+ community.

I will not be feared out of the state (crowd member shouts 'talk about it!'). You will not make laws to remove me or my dreams because I was raised in an America that believes that freedom will ring (crowd cheers) and freedom is mine to ring. It's mine to achieve.

I was raised underneath the belief that I can be anything and anyone I choose to be, if I follow my dreams (crowd cheers). And so, when I set out as a young person raised by a 9/11 First Responder, police detective in the Bronx of New York and a teacher who worked for the Board of Education in the Bronx, New York, I was raised to believe that I truly could be anything I put my mind to (crowd cheers). And as I grew up in this state, I went to school that I paid for and I'm still paying for - (crowd laughs) to get degrees. Not one, not two, but three certifications (crowd cheers). I am an example of what happens when you have parents and people and community that believe in you. I am a Masters of Psychology earned person, educated, going for my doctorate this year (crowd cheers). I am unstoppable.

You made laws and you made bills that said that, oh, she can't get her medication. And, yeah, I lost all of my help. I lost my doctors. I lost my, my, my access to my medication. But because my community is not weak, because we don't back down, I got it all back (crowd cheers). And I went and bought my own health insurance, because y'all can't even seem to provide none for none of us. So I got health insurance that backs me in the state of Florida. That supports me.

When you guys put laws about education, I start programs. I teach for a living. You can take the books off the shelves, but you can't take the memories out of my mind (crowd cheers). You can erase me from your history books, but, baby, I still exist. I'm here and now I'm on television, baby, you can't get rid of me (crowd laughs and cheers). I'm forever. And soon enough I'll be like Cher. I'll be immortalized. You can't stop me. I'll speak at every single turn.

You made it so that now I have to stand up and fight. You attacked a group that has no ill will towards you and now we have to stand up and fight. So we're gonna fight. We're going to continue to show up. I told you last year, this wasn't the last you seen of me. Hello (crowd laughs and cheers). Last year, I was a volunteer. Now I am the TransAction Special Events Coordinator for Equality Florida. Keep making these laws and these bills and you'll see me in your Senate seats next (crowd cheers). And that is not a threat, that's a promise.

So be sure who you attack because you haven't quelled anything. You haven't stopped us, you've ignited the fire. You've become gasoline. And, baby, we are going to burn like the books and the bras of the past. We will stand on things. I'm going to sit on these subjects like Rosa Parks sat on the bus. Because my dreams will come true, like Dr. Martin Luther King, and I will continue to walk the road, like Ruby Bridges alone, and you can throw your words but they will never break me. You can throw your bricks but they can never hurt me. I will stand and exist for those who cannot. For all of my brothers and sisters and theys and thems who left and can't stay here, I will always be here. And even when you stop doing what you're doing, I will continue to move forward because that is what I do. And now you have met just one, and I'm going to inspire generations, because I already have. Look at the room, read the room, baby (crowd cheers).

And I am, just so you know, and your parents will know, and your children's children will know, I am one of the people who brought all of those drag queens to this rotunda (crowd cheers). And I was here last year with all of those children who came when you came for their rights. It will never stop. It will continue. We will not let these rooms be empty. Even when you plan your sessions around it and try to get them done without us (has mild vocal trouble and grimaces slightly)- without us, sorry - I will show up. I will be here. I look forward to seeing you all throughout the rest of the sessions. Get used to it because I'm pretty and I look good all the time (crowd cheers). My development as a trans woman has been amazing, and I promise you, my body is real, my face is mine, baby. The makeup game, I've been slaying it for 19 years. I'm older than I look but my skin looks better than yours because I know how to take care of it. If you want help, call me (crowd cheers).

I'm mad. I'm done. I'm done playing safe with you guys. I'm done being that person that you think you can walk over. My community, we are not going to be the backs on which you stand on. We're not that community anymore - slavery is over. We won't live in closets anymore. Closets are done. They're removed. It's open spaces.

This is a world where we're supposed to be free. You call yourself a free state, but you take away freedoms and rights. No more. We stand here. We are not going anywhere. So get comfortable, because we are. And we're here (crowd cheers). Thank you. Source

[cindylouwho-2]

Etsy’s 2022 Transparency Report: Murky Stats and Non-Facts

Etsy claims its mission is to “Keep Commerce Human”, and unironically uses that tagline at the start of its 2022 Transparency Report - a report that details how the site’s automation is attacking legitimate Etsy shop owners with ever-increasing frequency. The deeper you dig, the more you can see that acknowledging the humanity of the seller base is not part of the corporation’s game plan. 

Policy Enforcement Has Gone to the Bots

The Trust and Safety division is responsible for policing the site in areas involving fraud as well as items prohibited on Etsy, including manufactured items falsely listed as handmade. Etsy admits that automation is responsible for 95% of the listings and shops flagged for rule breaking in 2022. These reports more than doubled over 2021′s total, to around 36 million. 

Despite this huge increase in flags, there was only a 16% increase in items removed year over year (a total of 1.9 million), meaning that Etsy automation is not improving in detecting real problems. Over 34 million flags were apparently unfounded; only 5% of the total flags were deactivated. That means that millions of listings were temporarily removed from the site or at least from search, when there was nothing wrong with them. It sometimes takes weeks for Etsy to restore these pages, and often that does not occur unless the shop owner opens a support ticket and complains (even though Etsy claims that every flag is reviewed “within four working days, on average”). 

The 36 million flags equal roughly one-third of Etsy’s current site inventory. Clearly, these bad bots have meant a large loss of visibility and sales for shops that comply with Etsy’s rules, and often those shops aren’t even given coherent reasons for the removals. Frequently, there is no public announcement of a new “ban”, such as the removal of amber items that started in February 2022. [I had 2 items removed and then reinstated. They were wrongly removed, despite the fact I had selected the correct material attributes for both - agate and labradorite. The word amber was only used as a colour. I was not selling amber, and both focal beads were larger than the “1.25 inches” Etsy Support cited as the safety threshold.] 

Unfortunately, the “Looking Ahead” portion of this report promises even more focus on machine learning to do the job Etsy truly needs real humans involved in. This problem is not going to disappear. 

[Please note that I have no issue with using automation for some of these situations, but if it is only 5% accurate, it needs more human oversight.]

It Gets Worse - Meet The “Mature Content Classifier”

Here’s exactly how Etsy describes this “mature content classifier”, a new site feature:

“...in 2022, we developed a mature content classifier which identifies potentially mature listings using text and image recognition. Using this technology, we work to keep these kinds of items from being displayed to users who aren't looking for them, while still allowing those who are to find them. While no technology is perfect and we may sometimes get it wrong, we’ve seen a 17% decrease in flags of mature content from our member community since adding this classifier to our search experience.” [my emphasis]

This comes as no surprise to many sellers of both “mature” and non-mature items, as there have been many reports of items that are no longer searchable for many (if not most) words in their titles. For example, an affected listing will show up for a search that includes the shadow-banned words, but not other searches. Words and phrases that can trigger this issue include:

sex and sexy

pinup

nude

BSDM

harness bra and body harness

pussy

panties

I am sure you can imagine many others! (but these are ones sellers have discovered and discussed publicly). For most of them, it makes no sense for Etsy to remove the item from all searches except those containing the offending word/s, since many of the words can be used innocently. “Nude” can be a colour, for example. 

The most bizarre so far is the dog diaper listing, which was affected not only by the words “menstrual” and “panties” but also the lead image of a toy dog wearing the garment. Switching up the photos so the toy was not the lead made the item searchable again. 

If your items are not at all mature and should not be classified as such by Etsy, contacting Support may help you get them restored, although many cannot even get a straight explanation from Etsy on this point. For some shops, removing the offending word from the title but keeping it in the tags may restore searchability, as can changing the first photo. 

However, it is obvious Etsy is going to refine this “classifier” in the future, meaning that more items will be affected - both mature and not - and the current fixes may not always work. Sellers of items that are mature or even border on mature, or rely on certain search terms that may be affected, should seriously reconsider depending on Etsy for any significant amount of business income. This "solution” Etsy is touting isn’t going to end. 

Resolving Order Issues Is Quicker Now Because Sellers Aren’t Involved In Most Cases - And Often Can’t Get Etsy To Help When Things Go Wrong

After a short section on intellectual property infringement, Etsy goes on to brag about the “improving” cases through its Purchase Protection Plan as of August 1 2022. “On average, cases were resolved by our team in just 14 hours in 2022. That’s down from 4.5 days in 2021.” 

What they don’t mention is that Etsy’s automation of this area means many cases are closed by bots almost instantly these days, as I detail in my blog post on the topic. Sellers often have great difficulty getting errors corrected, and Etsy is automatically forcing refunds from seller money in almost all cases over $250 USD now. While it is great for buyers that they can instantly get a full refund for the package stolen from their front porch, sellers are left with no protection with these larger orders. Even if they can prove signature confirmation and have photos of the delivered package from the courier company, Etsy still takes any refund over $250 from the shop’s account. 

As explained on my blog, there have been many ridiculous refunds issued from seller funds, including the following situations:

the buyer didn’t pick the item up at the post office

Etsy’s automation said the order was shipped late, but the message from Etsy listed the correct date as being “late”

a not-as-described case where the customer used a screenshot from another shop to prove the item wasn’t as described

a buyer returning an order without notifying the seller (which Etsy policy does not allow) 

the purchaser promised to return a damaged item, but recalled the package through USPS once Etsy issued the refund (thereby getting both the package and their money back)

In many of these types of examples, it was difficult or actually impossible for the shop owner to get their money back from Etsy, often because they could not reach Etsy or could not get an Etsy employee to understand the problem. Despite this, Etsy is claiming that “Sellers are also getting more access to support”. The corporation then flat-out lies by stating “we expanded our popular Help Center live chat support to be available to all sellers, 24 hours a day, every day.” I know this statement is as false as the day they announced it, as I was one of the sellers who filed [unresolved] Support tickets complaining that we did not have access to Live Chat. Today, I still frequently cannot get more than email options when trying to access chat through the Help Centre, and often have to use a help link generated by another seller to see the chat option. 

Furthermore, even if an Etsy shop owner can contact Etsy through live chat, any serious issue must be escalated beyond that first tier of support, and some of those other tiers can now take weeks and even months to get back to sellers. In another example of Etsy’s shoddy automation, I filed a ticket 10 days ago regarding a listing in my shop that displays the “Sorry, this item is unavailable in your region” message when clicked on from the United States, and only received a cut and paste reply that explained some plants and seeds can’t be sold in the US. (It’s not a plant or seed, nor does it contain those substances. I can’t even figure out why they think it does. Plus, I have 4 other listings of the same material that haven’t been affected!) It’s obvious from my stats that this item was removed from US search and was made unpurchaseable there back in August 2022, yet not only did an Etsy employee not review this removal in any way, but 10 days later I still cannot get a real answer from Support.

It’s not just me. I advised 2 different sellers on appealing their shop suspensions back in March, but neither appeal has been decided yet (as of May 9). The Etsy forum is flooded with posts from new merchants who have correctly updated their tax ID numbers but still have suspended shops. Owners of hacked accounts can wait over 10 weeks to get Etsy to act. Most of Etsy’s social media posts get a large number of replies from disgruntled sellers who cannot get help with serious issues (or even sufficient explanations of what is happening). So even when live chat works, some of us may end up with worse “Support” than they did in the past, as the people staffing chat aren’t allowed to do many things on their own.

The Future Isn’t Any Brighter

So why is Etsy harming sellers in these ways? Why can’t the “Keep Commerce Human” company use actual humans to make sure its sellers are treated humanely? 

The answer comes in 2 parts:

Staff cost money. Etsy can’t spend cash hiring adequate Support or Trust and Safety staff if it is going to stay profitable. It is becoming evident they are running out of ways to make more money, so they aren’t going to spend any more dollars on helping the human collateral of faulty automation, regardless of how unfair the non-human bots are. Their business model isn’t profitable if they “Keep Commerce Human” by hiring humans to deal with human problems. 

In the recent quarterly report, Josh Silverman admits that shoppers have trouble finding the best things on Etsy - with over 100 million listings, there’s just too much stuff to wade through. It’s one of the 3 main points Etsy feels is holding the site back from having broader appeal. So when Etsy removes my keychain and pendants for spurious reasons, and puts the full onus on me to get the items relisted, it not only saves them money on staff, but also reduces the number of items in some searches, giving them an instant improvement in the oversaturation area. Or, put another way, Etsy will still get the same sales if my listings and your listings and some dog diapers modelled on a stuffed toy don’t show up now and again. They’ve learned they can lose a certain number of listings - even best-selling ones - without really losing money overall. They’ve made this clear in the past when discussing “churn” when they do something that forces shops to leave the site permanently. While Etsy’s primary goal isn’t to remove legitimate listings, doing that doesn’t hurt the bottom line, and does help with the “too much stuff” problem. What’s not to like, from an executive's point of view? 

The corporation sees nothing to fix here. Sure, we can argue they shouldn’t release bad bots before they work better, but that would also cost money. Building faulty automated “solutions” is really Etsy’s thing, and they aren’t going to stop just because individual human shop owners lose thousands of dollars when their best sellers get deindexed or Etsy refunds an item that the buyer signed for. 

You’ve been warned. 

[birdy-critic]

The Mask: Jaded Justice 1

Chapter 1: Slow start to the day

“Liz? Liz! Wake up!”

Liz groaned. Bright, irritating light penetrated her eyelids. She became aware of an irritating buzzing noise growing louder and louder to her left. Summoning the energy to role into her side, she saw her alarm blaring at her. It read 9:45. She had set it to go off at 8:30. The muffled shouting from outside her apartment continued.

“Elizabeth Caplan! Wake up and open this door!”

Liz sighed. If she was using her full name, then she must really need something…or be supremely pissed. Groaning and rubbing her face, Liz dragged herself out of bed and threw on a T-shirt over her bra and walked to the door. Checking the eyehole, she removed the chain, twisted the deadbolt and turned the lock and opened the door. 

Anne Thomas stood at the entrance, arms crossed and foot tapping. Her dark blue eyes stared daggers at Liz. Her strawberry blond hair was neatly tied up in a bun. She was wearing a light blue blazer over her dress shirt with khaki dress pants. The stylishness of this attire was somewhat in contrast to her worn athletic tennis shoes and the worn out brown tote bag slung over her shoulder. She was smiling, but the furled brows and the intensity of her gaze told Liz that she was more than a little annoyed with her.

“I don’t usually take personal calls during office hours, Annie.”

“Talking about ‘office hours’ would require you to be at your office, and ready for work. Right now you look like you’re late for your work from home job. Now are you going to let me in or not?”

Liz opened the door the rest of the way and exaggerated a swing of her arm to cordially invite Annie in. Annie briefly lifted an eyebrow but swept past Liz into the apartment. Checking around, she seemed to be looking for something to clean. Some out of place clothing or paperwork to put it away. Finding nothing seemed only to further irritate her.

“I will never understand how someone who sleeps so late keeps such a clean and orderly apartment.”

          “That’s the key to being lazy,” Liz responded. “You have to do just enough work so that you can be lazy.”

          “Well I wish you would apply that philosophy to your clients. Go get dressed. You need to meet Mrs. Jimenez in half an hour.”

         “Not without coffee.”

         “I’ll handle the coffee,” Annie said, heading for the kitchen. “You still do French Roast?” 

         “It’s all I ever keep in the house,” Liz responded, returning to the bedroom.

          Upon re-entering the bedroom and closing the door, Liz stared with longing at the unmade bed. It would be so easy to just toss her shirt off and collapse back onto her firm, fluffy pillows, crawl back under the comforter and drift back to wonderland. Sadly, she didn’t feel like dealing with more yelling from Annie, and she did have work to do. So, allowing another sigh to escape her chest, Liz tidied up her bed and went into her closet. She found her favorite forest green leather jacket and pulled it out. Then she went to her dresser and found a clean pair of jeans. Slipping off her gym shorts, she wiggled into her jeans and grabbed a leather belt and shoulder holster from the rack in her closet. She grabbed the metal police baton and checked the taser’s charge. She then put both in the leather messenger bag sitting on her dresser. Lacing up the belt and holster, she put on her jacket and fixed her hair and walked back out into the kitchen.

As she re-entered, Annie had a hot mug of coffee poured alongside a bowl of oatmeal with a hardboiled egg in the center. Liz looked at her in surprise.

“When did you have time to cook?” Liz asked.

“I didn’t. I did my grocery run on the way here and figured you probably hadn’t eaten.” Annie glanced at the empty holster in my jacket. “Where’s your gun?”

“Still being tuned and cleaned at Wesson’s,” Liz answered, sitting down to quickly devour the bowl of steaming hot oats. “Need to stop there after I’m done with Jimenez.”

“Well, make it a priority. I know you love your karate and your police stick jutsu, but I don’t think it’s wise to keep doing this job without a proper weapon.”

“Anne, I think you are overthinking this situation. I’m going to meet a woman complaining about not getting alimony from her ex-husband.”

“An ex-husband with potential ties to the Los Lobos street gang. You could be in danger, and I need you alive to bring me pictures and witness testimony!”

“I’m a private investigator, Annie. Not a photographer. Also, last time I checked I don’t work for you.”

I was reaching for my mug of coffee when Annie intercepted it and lifted it above our heads. 

“I could easily take that from you,” Liz responded.

“You could, but a) the coffee will be all over your nice clean kitchen and 2) this is your favorite mug. Are we going to keep doing this dance?”

For several seconds neither moved. Finally, Liz relaxed and slouched back into her chair.

“Sorry.”

Annie put the mug back down. 

“I never said you work for me, but considering the symbiotic relationship between my need for scintillating compelling news and your need for new cases, I would say we work together pretty well. Sugar and milk?”

“Considering I don’t like the taste of roasted tar, absolutely.”

Annie left the sugar pot and a bottle of cream in front of me. I slowly poured the cream, enjoying the spectacle of the thick white liquid infecting the tar black coffee and slowly overpowering it with a rich, light brown texture. I added a scoop of sugar and mixed it to perfect the concoction. As I picked up the mug, the phone rang. Somewhat disappointed by the interruption, I picked it up.

“Caplan speaking.”

“Liz?”

Liz was startled. 

“Ginny?”

“Oh good, I am so glad to hear your voice, Liz. It’s been too long.”

“Yeah, it has been a while,” Liz looked at Anne who was looking at her with a confused look on her face. “Kinda surprised to hear from you.”

“You would be, wouldn’t you? I’ve got some business in Philadelphia. So I was hoping you could come meet me at my local office. We could go for lunch?”

Now Liz was really confused. *What was this about?* she thought.

“Yeah, sure. I guess I’ll see you then.” Liz hung up the phone.

“Who is ‘Ginny’?” Anne asked, sipping her own coffee.

“ ‘Ginny’ is one Genevieve Brandt,” Liz answered, finishing her coffee. “And she wants to meet me for lunch. So I guess I better get to work.”

Anne looked at her with surprise.

“Why would one of the top corporate defense attorneys in the city want to meet YOU for lunch?”

Smiling smugly, Liz grabbed her work bag and walked over to the door and slid into her work shoes.

“Who knows? Maybe I have friends who are simply charmed by my company and want to spend time with me without needing something in return?”

Anne smiled. “I think we both know you’re in the wrong profession for that to be the case.”

* * * * *

Mrs. Sandra Jimenez was visibly angry when Liz arrived at her third floor apartment. She must have been watching the eye hole because no sooner had Liz knocked once but the door swung open wide and the woman shoved her body up against Liz. 

“The newspaper lady said you would be good. But now you are late! How can you be good if you are late?!”

“Good morning to you too, Mrs. Jimenez. Has Jorge been by?”

This question only inflamed her anger. 

“That puta is always here. We are divorced! I have his child! He pays no money and he keeps coming here to eat my food and harass me! I hired you to do something!”

Liz groaned. All of this was in the expected types of behaviors of an asshole ex-husband who was refusing to honor his agreements with the divorce, but that didn’t mean they weren’t going to be a headache.

“Mrs. Jimenez, I have to ask you again: is your ex-husband’s name on the lease for this apartment?”

At this the woman exploded. “What does that matter!? He doesn’t live here! We aren’t married! Why does it matter if he is on the lease or not?!”

Liz groaned again. The headache was metastasizing. 

“Because, Mrs. Jimenez, if his name is on the lease, then he legally is allowed to be here, unless the judge ordered him to vacate the property during the divorce proceedings. Did the judge do that?”

Finally, this question seemed to give the woman pause. Her eyes were rapidly moving and she seemed to be speaking to herself, checking her memories for anything like what Liz was suggesting. The length of time this took and the lack of response to the question basically served as her answer.

“Unfortunately, that’s what I expected. If his name is still on the lease, you would need a judge to issue a restraining order against him for harassment, and that could take months to prove and litigate. Or you would have to convince him to willingly agree to remove his name from the lease, which seems unlikely. Unless he’s committed a crime.”

The fear and terror on the woman’s face were palpable.

“What about the gun?! He thinks he can just leave that kind of thing here? With his son?! He is going to murder me!”

Liz stiffened at this statement.

“What gun?”

“In there! In the nursery! The no good sonuvabitch had the nerve to hide it in his son’s nursery!”

At this the baby started crying, so Mrs. Jimenez let Liz in and directed her to the appropriate room. The distraught mother turned to her son and picked him up to start bouncing him lightly in her arms and speaking softly and soothingly into his ear. When he quieted down enough for conversation, Mrs. Jimenez nodded towards the top drawer of the dresser.

“In there. It’s buried at the bottom,” she said, and then walked with the baby out into the kitchen.

Liz opened the drawer and moved aside the socks until a 9mm Sig Sauer model 329 handgun was revealed. Opening her bag, Liz pulled out her miniature work camera and took pictures of the gun in its location and some surrounding area pictures to show the location. Evidence gathered, she then withdrew and put on a pair of surgical gloves from her bag. She carefully reached in and picked up the gun and inspected it. All of the usual warning signs went off. One, the gun was fully loaded. Two, the safety was off. These two things alone could probably mean reckless endangerment in a child rights trial, but that could take months and the ex-husband would have little trouble disputing it enough to avoid culpability. Luckily, number 3 saved her from thinking about all of this: the spot where a legal firearm would have its serial number written had been scratched out, leaving an illegible mess. No legal licensed weapon would have its serial numbers filed off.

The gun was illegal; either stolen or used for illegal purposes. That was a felony charge at least. 

Carefully, Liz twisted the gun’s safety switch back on and then clicked the magazine’s release bumper, ejecting it into her other hand. She pulled back the slide and emptied the final bullet out of the chamber onto the floor. Retrieving it, she carried the ammo and the weapon back into the living room. Seeing the gun, Mrs. Jimenez went apoplectic. 

“What are you thinking stupid woman?! Get that thing away from my son!”

“I plan to Mrs. Jimenez,” Liz said, showing her that the ammo was out of the gun. “Your ex-husband is certainly not a very responsible owner.  Do you have a Ziploc bag?”

“Yes, in the kitchen drawer,” she answered, pointing.

Liz walked to the kitchen and found an appropriate size bag. She carefully placed both the magazine and the gun into it before sealing it up. Going back into her bag, she took out her camera again and photographed the weapon and ammunition.

“Do you know somewhere you can hide this? Preferably nowhere near your son?”

Mrs. Jimenez thought about it for a moment before answering. 

“There’s a shoebox I hide in a floor board. I try to keep my money that’s in the house there so he can’t find it.”

“Perfect. Once you’re done with your son, I need you to help me with something. It will ensure you never have to deal with your ex’s behavior ever again.”

[bardicbeetle]

(content warnings for mention of death, gun violence, transphobia, and suicide)

This is something I wrote for my own personal socials + also to email to some relatives who do not use them. It's for tomorrow, so mind the dating.

I.

If you are part of the queer community, if you feel like reading then take a breathe, take care of your heart. I am writing this not to be unkind to my own blood, but to remind them where we stand. Apart or otherwise.

Today is March 31st.

Transgender day of Visibility.

My name is Larkspur.

My pronouns are they/them/theirs.

I am transgender and nonbinary.

Happy is not a word I would use to describe transgender day of visibility. It’s not one I would have used even before now, but this year has an especially sharp edge to that. We are not visible by choice, it is so often not being open as an act of self expression, or as pride. It is a scrutiny inescapable. We are told to either stay down and shut up, or die—we are vilified for simply existing. We have escalated now to hearing cries for our extermination, to being branded as child abusers, pedophiles, and now *terrorists*. To people being allowed and even encouraged to call CPS on the parents of transgender children citing transition itself as abuse, and states threatening to forcibly remove cisgender children from their families if they have transgender parents or siblings, even if they cross state lines to do so.

I cannot pretend to be hopeful.

My heart is heavy with the ongoing attempted genocide of my community. With the 41% jokes. With the people saying “It’s not *that* bad”. Wake the fuck up. It is that bad. As of today, nearly 500 bills have been introduced in 2023 alone that aim to legislate trans people out of public existence. I say public existence because regardless of what is done to hold us to the ground, we are NOT going away. The shooting in Nashville has spawned an outcry amongst Republican officials and news sources NOT over this country’s long and bright red history of gun violence, but a whipped up violent hysteria that claims transgender people are coming to kill your children and destroy your religion. I would love to say that is a surprising outcome to this newest tragedy, but that would be a lie in the extreme.

The things we do to make our bodies feel more our own are policed at every turn. When you are young you are “too young to think about that”, when you are an adult then “why bother starting now”. For the small percentage of us who seek medical transition, the procedures we seek are often trivialized and barred from us, but easy to access for cisgender people (Hormone Therapy, Breast augmentation, hairline reconstruction, etc). We are told that puberty blockers are poisoning children who “don’t know any better” when they have been prescribed to cisgender children since the 1980s. We are vilified for surgeries that are both cost prohibitive and never granted to anyone under the age of 16.

I want to make one thing very clear, if nothing else. This is MY community. I am transgender. I am no different from the rest. I am not an outlier. I am not special. The false beliefs weaponized against my community are weaponized against me. If you believe transgender people are inherently wrong, you believe I am inherently wrong. If you believe we are sick, you believe I am sick. If you believe we are against God, you believe I am against God. If you believe we are violent, you believe I am violent. If you believe we are a danger to children, you believe I am a danger to children. If you believe our existence is a threat to you, then you believe I am a threat to you. If you think because you know me that means I am different, that your beliefs and prejudices will not fall on me? You could not be more wrong. I will carry the weight like everyone in my community, I will hold each one in my chest like a stone.

I say none of this to be a thorn. I say it because I am hurting, and afraid, and *angry* and so SO tired.

I am tired of being brave. I am tired of being special. I am tired of the burden of being some people’s only mark on the board for knowing a queer person well enough to consider them “good”. I am tired of watching the people I love carry disgust and disdain in their hearts for people like me, who aren’t me. I am tired of watching the country I am supposed to call home close walls around me until the place I was born is one of the only states left that counts me as a human being and not a disease to be eradicated. I am tired of the world putting a target on the backs of my siblings just for being themselves. I am tired and heartbroken from adding more names to the list of those who have died for being themselves, either because someone decided they deserved it, or because it was their only perceived escape. I am so tired of losing people to the tide of hatred and vitriol that is spewed like a burst pipe from the heart of the world.

That is not all to say I am hopeless. I have faith in my community to fight for change even if I do not have faith in those who control how fast and how far that change goes. We are tired, but we are not backing down. We have been here the whole time, and we will continue to be here until time runs humanity into the ground. Gender diverse individuals can be traced back as far as 4500 BCE. We are not going to lie down and die over this. We are not going to stand by and be erased.

Today is transgender day of visibility.

For better or for worse, I am making sure that you see ALL of me.

[synamartia]

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO~!

♡ You really put on a show. Shimmying your hips, ostrich feathers following suit with every move. Your brassiere was heavy with shining rhinestones, panties of silk and lace. Your set was almost done, all that was left was to remove your top and slink away behind the curtains to hollers and whistles. Back turned, you unhooked the painful bra and let it fall to the stage with a clunk. Foot in front of foot, you stalked the stage length. With your hand hidden from view you took the feathered fan from the stagehand behind the curtain. As the music crescendoed you turned, fan unfurling just in time to hide yourself.

I'mma start right here. So I'm from Las Vegas, and this bit got me feeling homesick, okay? The Strip, Fremont Street, and the hotels/casinos are LITTERED with showgirls dressed like this - hell, I've seen a couple inside the Adventure Dome - and it's just body-slamming me with nostalgia right now, cause I remember seeing them all the time and thinking they were SO goddamn beautiful, so thank you for this, my love~! ❤️

♡ Unbeknownst to you, the well dressed man hadn’t come to see you. He preferred your singing shows at the little dive bar two blocks over. No, he had come for the man at the front table. For weeks now, he had watched him harassing the ladies of the few joints in New Orleans that weren’t regularly hounded by police. Your smiley mark even heard stories of unsavory acts, many women leaving the dance scene entirely after.

OKAY LOOK, I'MMA TAKE A WILD GUESS AND SAY YOU'RE SETTING AL UP TO BE A JUSTICE COLLECTOR IN THIS FIC, RIGHT?? That's not what it's actually called, I'm just too lazy to look up the proper term for it rn OTL but basically it's someone that brings people to justice based on their own moral code, usually operates outside the actual judicial system? I'm sorry if that doesn't make sense it's like 5:30 am here and I haven't slept yet (well, it was when I started reading) ANYWAY. I bring this part up because it just fits his character like Cinderella's slipper, and I love that you're including his 'weird moral code', as Vivzie put it~ *chef's kiss*

♡ “My, my. What a mess he’s made.” The man smiled down at you, offering a hand. When you didn’t immediately react, he cocked his head to the left, “Is that anyway to treat your rescuer?”

BOI, GIVE HER A MINUTE. SHE JUST HAD SOMEONE THROTTLE HER. But nah, this bit is another thing I absolutely LOVE so far cause OFC he would be so nonchalant about killing someone, and with a witness no less. Very Alastor coded~! 👌

♡ Your hand slowed, noticing the way he was looking at you. Typically men’s pupils were blown when they fell on you, but his were constricted. They flitted around your face. His hand took hold of yours, fingers separating the thumb from the handkerchief. He pulled the little square of yellow fabric free with his other hand, allowing him to hold your thumb now by itself.

🎵 Not for looooonnnnggggg~! 🎵 Can't wait for the *BONK* once Al finally falls~ I'mma EAT 👏 THAT 👏 SHIT 👏 UP👏 (okay I just reread this bit again and realized you meant when they LOOKED at her, and not when they fell IN LOVE with reader "OTL - MY STATEMENT STILL STANDS THOUGH)

♡ His eyes fluttered close, finger popping out of his mouth with a debauched sound. You made no attempt to take back your hand. The realization you may have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire set in.

Babygirl. Mans just killed a dude and brushed it off like pastry crumbs. WHAT. WERE. YOU. EXPECTING?

♡ You opened your eyes to see him at the door, slipping back into his jacket, “I’ll pay for the night.” He tipped his head to you and exited the room back first, eyes locked with yours until the door closed.

WAIT. NO. YOU CAN'T JUST-- GET YOUR BAMBI ASS BACK HERE YOU MOTHERFU--

♡ A housewife? An adopted mother to a grown man during the day, a hungry nymph at night? For what, an allowance and a home you didn’t own? Pass. Where’s that handsome man with his knife? That was a much better steel to fall onto than what these men offered from their laps.

NAH, FOR REAL THOUGH, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU-- for the record I'd fall on the 'steel' in his lap too

♡ Your polite nods and gracious thank yous were abruptly ended by a tap on your shoulder, “You dropped this, miss.” You did a mental check of your purse before turning around.

THERE YOU ARE YA LITTLE SHIT-- (such a sweetie though, I love it! thank you bby~ ❤️)

♡ “Unfortunately I don’t have much time tonight. I had just wanted to return your items.”

Istfg, if you run away again--

♡ You turned to leave and hadn’t seen his smile sour.

OH, COME OOONNN! 😭 please don't think I'm complaining I promise I'm not I actually really love the chase I'm just playing into the bit now

♡ It hadn’t been a threat. He hadn’t anticipated you to notice the implication. Most people would have been so blinded by his charm they would fail to notice the glaring red flags. He was mildly impressed. You would be more trouble than he had expected.

♡ Something akin to a giggle bubbled from his chest. “I don’t have much affection, but I have even less time.” Your eyes darted around, looking for your next move. “I-,” you grabbed him by the face and kissed him. When you broke the kiss he was staring wide eyed, glasses askew. He opened his mouth to speak and you kissed him again, longer, harder.

Good god almighty, I'm such a simp for a disheveled Alastor, holy shit *knuckle bite* ASDFGHJKLGUHH--

♡ It was his turn to blink. He looked off to his left, eyes swinging back to you. With a shrug, he leaned his body back towards yours. His hand slid down the front of your dress; red silk. A deer in the headlights, you tensed. The rare third option; fight, flight, freeze. Soon his fingers were tracing the lace of your stockings, climbing up the garter straps. 

Fuck YES *popcorn munch* it's 'bout to get REAL steamy up in this bitch 🫠😶‍🌫️

♡ His eyes were studying your face. You didn’t want to give the wrong answer again, but at this point you weren’t sure any answer was right. This was taking a sudden turn and your foot was off the brake. You closed your eyes, opting out of the scrutiny of his stare. His hand met your stomach and began to slip down again. He rested it between your thighs, longer fingers and palm cupping the entirety of your sex.

GET IT BABY

♡ Alastor struggled to decipher your expression. It was almost like a pout, but more subtle. You hadn’t said stop or pushed him away yet. Was he right? You were just… horny? As his hand slid back up and pried their way into your panties, you trembled.

Always. Never assume we're NOT down bad for you unless explicitly said otherwise.

♡ Is that right? You wanted him to touch you? 

Yes.

♡ “Is this what you wanted?” He said it low, a husky tone he didn’t have before.

YES. (Also side note: Istg I had no idea you had Al asking this when I wrote that one bit for Haunted. 😅)

♡ His finger pushed in, and with a kind of greed you didn't recognize your hips ground down into his palm. He slipped in and out of you with ease. You had no idea when or why you got so wet.

I doooo~🎵

♡ “Shhh”, he breathed into your ear as he worked a third finger into your heat. One knuckle, two knuckles. A whimper. His hand came to press down over your own on your mouth, a second barrier for your mewling. You groaned, the sound coming from your throat.  

HHHHHNNNNNGGHGGGHH-- 💦💦💦

♡ Double speak over, “Just tell me what to do to get you to fuck me.”

No, seriously. Please. Guidance is my kink. I have no idea what the official term for it is, but PLEASE. 😭❤️‍🔥

♡ “Maybe next time, dear.” He took a second, fingers in you sliding around your walls in search of something before finding his place and continuing. Your breath noticeably changed, instead of panting you were practically holding it in. You needed the pressure, you needed something to squeeze that spring of pleasure down so it could snap back. As your face went flush, he kissed at your temple, “You look so pretty in red.”

"Oh, god-," INDEED. PRAISE ME MORE.

WHY THE FUCK DID I WAIT TO READ THIS??? IT'S SO GOOD AND IT'S ONLY THE FIRST CHAPTER WHAT THE HELL??? I'mma go get a lil bit of sleep, but when I wake up, I'mma be binge reading the FUCK outta this! I got a whole week off, and as it stands right now, ZERO plans! I apologize in advance for the havoc I'mma 'bout to wreak upon your dashes please forgive me 😭

And and and, also-- can I pretty please be added to the tag list, dearie~? 🥹🙏

I just need you to know this story has had me in a chokehold and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. This is gonna be a weird smutty slow burn, so still smut every post but full p in v sex will be a reward you have to work for?

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Redsmut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedysmut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

「warnings/tags: HumanAlastor x FemaleReader, implied attempt to SA, fingering, plot with porn?, Multi part work, bad kind of choking, blood kink, blood licking, just in general blood, Non-Sex repulsed Ace Spectrum Alastor, stalking, murder obvs, finger sucking, smoking kinda kills if you squint, Public sex acts, garter belt, You have a stage name but no one important uses it, Greed, Lust, Human Alastor is a little different than Demon Alastor. 」

minors dni 💅🏽

Part 1 Pretty in Red

The marriage between burlesque and jazz wasn’t unexpected. Before the Great Depression took the nation into a stranglehold, both Jazz and Burlesque were immoral wastes of time only the most barbaric sought out.

And oh, did you love it. Everyone who was made to feel like nobody flocked to your theater and the surrounding neighborhood. Men, women, the people who didn’t agree with either. The biblically inclined, those closer to sodom, the sapphic dolls. Everyone was equal in the halls of jazz rooms and theatres where burlesquers were welcome.

Because of the inclusive nature of such places, you often saw familiar faces. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone from Thursday night to be seen Saturday at a different locale.

That presented certain opportunities and challenges. When you found a good mark, it was easy to be wherever he was and play it off as fate and common interests.

And when you gained a new stalker, someone wanting a personal show, it could be hard to tell until it was too late. 

Maybe it was your greed, or just your love of attention, but you found yourself focused almost entirely on a particularly well dressed man one evening. You’d seen him around before. Clean cut, sharp suit, a welcoming smile always on display. He looked like he had money, the most attractive quality of any man you could meet.

So focused on his gleaming stare from the side booths you hadn’t noticed the man at the stage front tables. You barely noticed him the night before, or the night before that, either. Because Smiles, as you took to calling the handsome stranger in the back, had been here three nights now too.

You really put on a show. Shimmying your hips, ostrich feathers following suit with every move. Your brassiere was heavy with shining rhinestones, panties of silk and lace. Your set was almost done, all that was left was to remove your top and slink away behind the curtains to hollers and whistles. Back turned, you unhooked the painful bra and let it fall to the stage with a clunk. Foot in front of foot, you stalked the stage length. With your hand hidden from view you took the feathered fan from the stagehand behind the curtain. As the music crescendoed you turned, fan unfurling just in time to hide yourself.

Groans, mass begging from the audience. Your stage name a chant now, a prayer. “Autumn! Come on!”

As the band slowed, music dying to mark the end of your number, you scanned the crowd. Eyes blinking coyly, you mouthed, “More? Did you want more?”

People were jumping to their feet, not Smiles but that was fine, you were focused now on the adoration of the crowd. The music ended, a second of silence. 

You winked, the drums hitting one last beat as you let the fan close.

Fanfare! Men whistling, women clapping. Someone shouted a marriage proposal. You took a bow, twirled on the balls of your feet and slipped gracefully behind the curtains.

Your hands wound to your spine, rubbing blood flow back into your skin as the staff removed your headdress. Someone slipped your robe over you and you nodded a thanks, aching feet carrying you to the dressing room. It was chaos, as usual. Women buzzing around, tits and ass here and there. You smiled. You happened to enjoy this part of the job. Soft bodies in shiny costumes, lovely smells and sweet voices. If you could get dressed quickly enough, you could still take a tour of the room and slide into Smiles’ booth. 

“Enjoy the show?” You’d ask. He’d lean in, maybe blush, “Always when you’re here.” Or something like that. You’d cozy up to him, flag down a waiter for something strong and pricey, and get him properly drunk. He’d wake up outside, fine and dandy except his missing cash. 

You’ll call him a drunkard if he confronts you, accuse him of getting himself robbed after you refused his advances. You’ll say it too loudly, and he’ll run off. 

You danced a little in your seat, another game of cat and mouse about to commence. But first, a smoke.

Unbeknownst to you, the well dressed man hadn’t come to see you. He preferred your singing shows at the little dive bar two blocks over. No, he had come for the man at the front table. For weeks now, he had watched him harassing the ladies of the few joints in New Orleans that weren’t regularly hounded by police. Your smiley mark even heard stories of unsavory acts, many women leaving the dance scene entirely after.

He didn’t care for it. He didn’t care for him. So he took to his hunt, following the man to come to his own conclusions. The pattern of behavior was obvious, and though he hadn’t seen what ended the last obsession, it was clear one of the performers at this club was being stalked as the next victim. 

He watched your dance with half lidded eyes, just as much as he watched the man give dirty looks to the other men cheering. Heard the, “Marry me!” shouted at you.

Yes, it was obvious to him now. 

So when the target of his interest got up and pushed his way into a staff only door, well, the well dressed man was sure to follow. 

The great thing about confidence and a nicely tailored suit is that no one questions you about why you are where you are. So while the brute he tailed had to shove past people to get wherever he was going, people smiled and made room for the gentleman who was not far behind.

He caught the street access door before it closed, allowing it to stay open just a sliver. Enough for one golden brown eye to watch the events unfold.

“Can I have a light?” The stranger asked you. You looked at him, then to the staff only entrance he just came out of. 

“I don’t think I know you….,” you handed him the lighter but he instead leaned into you, cigarette hanging from his lips. “You… new?”

You sparked the flint with a practiced thumb, taking three tries to get it lit, and put your hand out. The man didn’t budge, eyebrows rising, “You really don’t recognize me?” He asked, motioning with his hand to come closer. Your eyes glanced down the alley, cars slowly moving past the street. When you looked back, the man took your wrist in his hand. He held you so tightly that the muscles in your palm locked and you dropped the lighter. 

“What the fu-,” his hand came across your face, halting your sentence.

“I’m your best customer. Every show. I’m the one who brings flowers.”

Dozens of men bring flowers, especially on the weekend shows. You held your cheek, skin burning. Your hand pulled back, the corner of your lip bleeding from his rings. Scrambling, your mind was searching for the right words.

With a forced smiled, your shaky voice finally piped up, “Oh! Yeah! Oh geez. I am so sorry, doll. I’m just so tired, and the alley is so dark. Here, let’s go inside so I can get a better look at you.” You tried to take your wrist from him but he didn’t loosen up.

“Nah, you ain’t tricking me. You owe me.” He pulled you into him, large hand gripping your face with ease, “You can’t lead on men like this and think you don’t gotta answer for it.” He kissed you, forcing your face into his. “Bitch! Did you fucking bite me?” He threw you into the tin trash cans beside the wall, knocking the wind out of you. 

No purse, no sharp object, not even a heeled shoe to defend yourself with. You cursed, so preoccupied with Smiles you forgot your wits.

You spit out the copper saliva, his blood and yours. “I’ll keep biting, too.” 

Why scream? The sounds of the next act were bouncing off the brick walls. Upbeat jazz and applause echoing around you. No one would hear you. Men can break your body but you never had to give them your dignity. Never give them the satisfaction of a response.

No. No screaming. You instead spent your energy trying to get to your feet. He took hold of your neck now, throttling you. It wasn’t what you had expected, but as he lifted you off the ground and your little dressing room slippers fell off, you thought this was actually better. 

“Well I think that’s quite enough.”

You felt warmth, then registered wetness. Your shin scraped on the asphalt as you were dropped without warning. Trying to open your eyes, you found you couldn’t see. Wiping and blinking away the foreign liquid, you watched your attacker fall to his knees.

Blood was shooting from between his fingers around his own neck, each pulse becoming weaker and weaker, evident through the stream.

When he finally fell over, drained, you were startled to see another man with you. The light reflected off his glasses as he adjusted them, the knife still in his right hand as he did so. 

“My, my. What a mess he’s made.” The man smiled down at you, offering a hand. When you didn’t immediately react, he cocked his head to the left, “Is that anyway to treat your rescuer?”

Is that was this was? A rescue? You took his hand with both of yours, pulling yourself up. 

Smiles? You blinked away the shock, time to shift into your next part. Damsel. You weren’t out the woods yet.

“You saved my life!” As you pressed yourself into his chest, you tucked your head beneath his chin. You tried to make yourself small. “I owe you! Please let’s go inside, drinks on me!” You looked up, batting your lashes.

“I don’t think that’s wise, dear.” His gaze panned down your dress, soaked through. He could see the thinking behind your eyes.

“No, right….,” You gripped his vest, “We gotta get outta here, fast. There’s a hotel just behind the threatre.” You started to pull his suit jacket off, slipping it over yourself. “No cops, the theatre will get raided. Just— take me somewhere safe?”

You watched him look you over, arm finally extending to let you hook yours with his. 

As soon as the hotel door closed behind you, you slipped off his jacket and ran to the dressing table mirror. 

Your face was painted red, navy dress now black and sticky. It was good you stayed from view of the reception staff. “I didn’t get my rescuer’s name,” you licked your thumb and rubbed at the blood around your cheeks. 

“Alastor. It’s a pleasure.”

You laughed, “Is that what you call a pleasure?” Turning, you pulled the mostly still dry handkerchief from your pocket and dabbed the corner on your tongue. You brought it up to the frame of his glasses and wiped the blood from the metal. “I’d hate to see what you call a bad time.”

Your hand slowed, noticing the way he was looking at you. Typically men’s pupils were blown when they fell on you, but his were constricted. They flitted around your face. His hand took hold of yours, fingers separating the thumb from the handkerchief. He pulled the little square of yellow fabric free with his other hand, allowing him to hold your thumb now by itself.

His lips opened, tongue licking the blood stained finger before placing it directly into his mouth.

Your stared, horrified, as he sucked the digit clean. 

His eyes fluttered close, finger popping out of his mouth with a debauched sound. You made no attempt to take back your hand. The realization you may have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire set in.

“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” You tried to sound as in control as possible. Calm. Unwavered. Offered a timid smile. 

He chuckled, “You could say that. May I?” His fingers lifted your chin. You didn’t know what he was asking. His soft smile looked downright loving. He smelled so good, notes of something earthy rising above the copper.

You nodded, because part of you wanted to see where it would go. And part of you thought you didn’t have a choice.

As his face came to yours, you instinctually closed your eyes expecting a kiss. But no, instead you felt his tongue wipe across the cut at the corner of your mouth. His breath blanketed your cheek. Then his hand left your chin, the warmth of his body gone entirely. 

You opened your eyes to see him at the door, slipping back into his jacket, “I’ll pay for the night.” He tipped his head to you and exited the room back first, eyes locked with yours until the door closed.

You just stood there in the silence left behind. But as if on cue, the adrenaline waned and your knees buckled under you. You were moments from death, now somehow spared. But what had he— Alastor, been doing there? Did he follow you, too? The cat and mouse had been flipped, or perhaps now this was a fox and hound?

Gripping the dressing table, you pulled yourself up and into the view of the mirror again. Face streaked in dried blood save for the one clean spot where your lips met cheek. 

You felt like a ghost the next day. It would be nice to tell someone about what happened but, “Hey a man tried to kill me and then another man killed him! Then he licked blood off my face and I let him. It was the most disturbingly erotic thing to happen to me in months!” would get you tossed into a wagon. 

“Are you rude or just stupid?” The theatre manager pulled you aside by the arm when you came into rehearsal. “You can’t just disappear like that, people were waiting.”

Your eyes narrowed, “Was… my absence really the most exciting part of the evening? Not the John in the gutter?”

He huffed, “So that’s it? Got a beau?”

“Wait— nothing else happened last night? After I left?” 

“This show doesn’t revolve around you. Plenty happened.”

“Excuse me,” you hurried into the back, “And sorry!”

You opened the street access door and looked into the alley. Trash cans neat and tidy, no dead man, nothing strange or telltale.

You ducked back inside. Had Smiles done this? Obviously, actually. No stranger just cleaned up the dead body. If the flatfeet had found him, the club would have been under scrutiny.

Good, you thought, and went about your work.

Rehearsal dragged on. Little details summoning you back to the night before. 

“You okay?” Another performer asked, grabbing your hand and inspecting the blood around your cuticles.

“Oh it’s not mine!” You laughed, she laughed, you walked off before she could clarify.

When applying your makeup, you remembered his hands on your face. They were so soft. Definitely a man of means. A brief intrusive thought, the other hands on your face last night.

You pranced on stage, going through the motions of your routine. Even in the empty hall, your eyes wandered to the booth he’d been in. And as you took the stage in earnest later that night you searched the crowd for the glint of his glasses and found nothing shiny nor promising.

Back in the dressing room you took a moment to wonder what the actual fuck you we’re doing. He murdered a man in front of you, why were you hoping to see him again? He had half a mind to kill you next.

But would that really be so bad?  Your life was routine, boring even. The only thing keeping your lungs expanding was the applause. Maybe the headlines of your death would cause such an uproar, dancer struck down in her prime, that you could bask in the loving glow all the way from hell.

One way to remain famous, you considered. A dramatic death.

Not that you were famous. You weren’t part of the national circuits. Just your local theatres, a common face and body to the sinners of Louisiana’s most infamous city. But, well, fame is relative. For the scene you were in, you were your own little star. 

A shining light. Shimmering. The faint light reflecting off— Blood. For a second you could only remember looking through bloodied, heavy lashes. 

“You’ve been so out of it. Trouble in paradise?” Ruth, the curviest of your coworkers and arguably the favorite of the crew, rested her chin on your head. Looking at each other in the mirror, you offered a soft smile.

“I’ll letcha know when I get there.”

She pinched your cheek, “Tommy said you had a new guy. I just figured-,”

“That isn’t,” you clenched your eyes shut, “no, no guy. I just got locked out last night in the alley. The sticky-,” sticky and viscous blood, “back door wouldn’t open up. I didn’t want to come in the front in my slippers so I just hoofed it home.” 

She patted your head, “if you say so! Be careful out there though. Dangerous these days.” 

An understatement.

You enjoyed the spotlight, but more than that you craved the attention doted on you after. You’d walk through the hall to the bar to adoring looks and free drinks. It bothered you that Tommy was telling the girls you had a man. You didn’t want to appear too closed off, or for word to spread to the customers. 

Last thing you needed was men passing you by for more available options. Not that the pay wasn’t fine. Ends were being met, but grifting added an element of thrill. You really did love the chase. Finding someone and deciding he would be yours, he would fall under your spell and be at your feminine mercy. It made you feel powerful, almost mythical. And the money was nice. Sometimes you didn’t even need to steal, the men would just lavish you in gifts and you’d let it fizzle out naturally. Normally their wives would snatch them back or they’d just get tired of waiting for you to leave the stage and dance into their domestic dreams. A housewife? An adopted mother to a grown man during the day, a hungry nymph at night? For what, an allowance and a home you didn’t own? Pass. Where’s that handsome man with his knife? That was a much better steel to fall onto than what these men offered from their laps.

From your view at the bar you knew he wasn’t there. But with a nod you decided the chase was still on. You were going to get your victory. If anything, this would be easier. You had dirt on him. Blackmail would be simple enough. Bloody clothes and the perfect alibi; being a woman. No cop would think you took down that hulking man. 

Ah, right. There was no body.

That would be an issue. He had to have taken it somewhere. Just find him and follow. Worst case scenario, you play the usual game and steal whatever cash was in his wallet.

Well, worst case you die. 

You slept sitting up to keep your hair set, during the day your makeup barely was there but a red lip always the star. You had three nice dresses (well, you had had four) so you figured three nights to find him before moving on.

You slinked through the crowds of the hot and sweaty dance club Moxie. Swinging music kept bodies moving, and though you kept your eyes open you didn’t catch sight of this Alastor fellow. Which was fine! You enjoyed a few dances, swing always making you feel energized. Not a waste of a Friday night.

Saturday was easy, the lounge on fifth. Smooth jazz, plush chairs, rich men. Definitely a place you could imagine Smiles to frequent. The whisky was all top shelf, and many gentlemen offered you a lap to sit. Sure, no Alastor, but you didn’t go home empty handed.

You weren’t a particularly great singer, but if the room was small enough and the piano loud enough, you could please a crowd. Your friend had you on a semi-set schedule most Sundays at her little dive too many blocks from Main Street. Her darling played piano, you sat and sang to the couple dozen patrons stuffed into the one room bar. When you finished your set, you took your bows and looked for your friend. You needed to tell her you wouldn’t be staying. 

Your polite nods and gracious thank yous were abruptly ended by a tap on your shoulder, “You dropped this, miss.” You did a mental check of your purse before turning around.

“Oh, a sight for sore eyes. Mr. Alastor.” Your face lit up, you could see it in his glasses.

“You’re too kind. Here, I apologize for the delay. I wanted to return them clean.” In his hand was your yellow handkerchief, folded neatly. You took it and found it uncharacteristically heavy. 

When you unfurled it, your brass lighter fell into your waiting palm. Your thumb caressed the engraving. 

Alastor watched your face as the lighter tumbled out. “I figured it was important, given the condition and detailing.”

You tested the weight in your hand, “Did you fill it?” You looked to him incredulously.  He nodded.

It was a surprisingly kind act, and you needed a second to regain your composure. “I don’t know how to thank you.” Your quick wit failed for a moment, but rebounded fast. “Except with a drink. My treat. To my rescuer.”

He mulled the idea, your reaction to him was interesting. Alastor had thought if he approached you first you’d show a little more fear, or shock. But you looked downright chipper to see him there. 

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time tonight. I had just wanted to return your items.”

Your smile dropped. How did he know you were here? Had he been carrying— no, he said he had them cleaned. Had he seen you here before, before the incident? A chuckle, smile brought back, “My luck is terrible. You always flee me. I hope you don’t see my company as deadweight.”

Alastor’s smile twitched, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, “Not at all! I think you’d find I’m quite comfortable with-.”

“Lugging people around?” You said. That constricted pupil again, eyes wild. A chill ran down your spine. Alarms were going off. Wrong answer. You straightened your back, popping the items into your purse, “Next time.”

Alastor nodded, “Yes. Next time, then.”

You fucked it up. You knew you had, but suddenly his words felt like a thinly veiled threat. 

You turned to leave and hadn’t seen his smile sour.

It hadn’t been a threat. He hadn’t anticipated you to notice the implication. Most people would have been so blinded by his charm they would fail to notice the glaring red flags. He was mildly impressed. You would be more trouble than he had expected.

Alastor knew he needed to do something about the clearly clever woman who was seemingly expecting him. He had followed you for several days, surprised to find you not spreading word about the murder. You hadn’t spoken to anyone, really. Even the man you left the lounge with, you just smiled and nodded nearly all evening while the man dominated the conversation. So, your sharp wit took him off guard. Who were you pretending to be? And why?

All of your cleverness fell apart when you tried to follow him. It was almost comical. He felt bad. This was going to be embarrassing for you.

He took several right turns and stepped into the park just outside of the bar. You thought perhaps he had gotten lost and considered turning around after you realized you’d lost sight of him. As you passed a large weeping willow, you were pulled under the curtains of hanging moss by your waist.

Back against the large tree, you could only pout.

“What are you after, stalking a man in the dead of night?” Alastor had you pinned, both hands on either side of your head. His body boxed you in, not that there was much more to see than moss and darkness.

You blinked several times. What a question. You answered honestly, “You.” He cocked a brow. Then you lied, “Your affection. Your time.”

Something akin to a giggle bubbled from his chest. “I don’t have much affection, but I have even less time.” Your eyes darted around, looking for your next move. “I-,” you grabbed him by the face and kissed him. When you broke the kiss he was staring wide eyed, glasses askew. He opened his mouth to speak and you kissed him again, longer, harder.

He seemed frozen under your mouth, lips taut. Your hands roamed his face, messing up his hair and glasses. Mind reeling. Play the nymph. Be the whore the men always said they hated. Be too strong, too forward, too much and he’ll run off like men do. You could try again another day.

Your hand reached for his lap, his hips instinctively jerking away. Perfect. Men these days can’t get it up for a woman who takes the lead. 

Alastor was entirely unsure what the fuck was happening. You were wildly unpredictable. When you grabbed at his dick, he thought his eyes would cross from the shock. Is this what ‘affection’ meant to you? He couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand you. Were you really just lustful? Even after what you’d seen him—

You bit at his bottom lip, pulling slightly. Big eyes looking back at him. Your breath was already running away from you, adrenaline seemingly synonymous with Alastor. Staring up at him, you waited. His move.

It was his turn to blink. He looked off to his left, eyes swinging back to you. With a shrug, he leaned his body back towards yours. His hand slid down the front of your dress; red silk. A deer in the headlights, you tensed. The rare third option; fight, flight, freeze. Soon his fingers were tracing the lace of your stockings, climbing up the garter straps. 

His eyes were studying your face. You didn’t want to give the wrong answer again, but at this point you weren’t sure any answer was right. This was taking a sudden turn and your foot was off the brake. You closed your eyes, opting out of the scrutiny of his stare. His hand met your stomach and began to slip down again. He rested it between your thighs, longer fingers and palm cupping the entirety of your sex.

Alastor struggled to decipher your expression. It was almost like a pout, but more subtle. You hadn’t said stop or pushed him away yet. Was he right? You were just… horny? As his hand slid back up and pried their way into your panties, you trembled.

It had been so long since someone else’s hand was on you. Someone whose hands you genuinely enjoyed, who you wanted to be on you.

Is that right? You wanted him to touch you? 

Maybe it was the stare, or the smile. Probably just the adrenaline.

His hand found its place again, middle finger bending to part your folds and feel your wetness. You whimpered, hand coming to cover your own mouth. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He said it low, a husky tone he didn’t have before.

No. Maybe. You nodded yes.

“Will you be satisfied now? No more tailing me?”

No. Probably not. Another nod.

His finger pushed in, and with a kind of greed you didn't recognize your hips ground down into his palm. He slipped in and out of you with ease. You had no idea when or why you got so wet.

“I always end up dripping around you, Alastor,” you whispered through your fingers. His ring finger joined. Why couldn’t you shut up? Why did you have to bring up, well, the murder?

“A common problem for those I take an interest in.” 

Oh no. You moaned softly into your hand. Sharp mind made dull by his fingers so you didn’t, couldn’t, process his double meaning. 

Oh no. The sounds of footsteps, a pair of lovers sneaking into the park for privacy. You heard their giggles, the sounds of kisses interrupting their walking.

“Shhh”, he breathed into your ear as he worked a third finger into your heat. One knuckle, two knuckles. A whimper. His hand came to press down over your own on your mouth, a second barrier for your mewling. You groaned, the sound coming from your throat.  

Whispers. The silhouette of the two interlopers was visible through the willow’s curtains. You watched from over his shoulder, pussy clenching around him. Three knuckles deep, bottoming out.

Fuck it. You moaned freely into your hand, wiggling down onto his hand. Hips rolling, you let your little sounds of praise flow.

The couple laughed, “That’s the spirit!” A man said, a woman hushing him and pulling him away.

Alastor grinned into your neck, immensely amused. He would have better luck predicting a dice roll than your next move. 

You hadn’t realized how hollow you’d been until now, feeling so full. When alone, you focused on just cumming, fingers on your clit and mind on memories. You never bothered much with anything else.

Your hunger intensified. You wanted more. Both hands reached for his crotch again, finding nothing there for you. You could have cried. How were you a wet mess pressed against a tree and he was soft as a newspaper in a rainstorm?

Your pride stung. Men usually stood at attention around you. A half sob into the air earned you a chuckle from Alastor. “It’s no reflection of you, darling.” His nose nudged your ear lobe, “I need a little different stimulation than most.”

“Do you play for the other team?” You considered how you could momentarily switch. 

A louder laugh, “I don’t have a team.” He leaned back now to look at you. His freehand came to press on your lower stomach, gently pushing your womb down. Your brows knit, why did that feel so good? Hands going to the tree behind you for stability.

“Sure feels like you know how to play. This is-,” his hand switched from thrusting slowly in and out to moving front and back. It sent vibrations up into you. Your eyes rolled close. Shut up. Stop talking. Focus. Close.

He kissed around your open mouth, “Well, it’d be unamerican to not dabble. When necessary, or when the conditions are right.”

Double speak over, “Just tell me what to do to get you to fuck me.”

Alastor’s head fell back as he laughed earnestly, most likely alerting anyone in the immediate area. “Ha! No, this is more fun.”

“Oh fuck you,” you brought a hand around to your throbbing clit to quicken your release.

“Maybe next time, dear.” He took a second, fingers in you sliding around your walls in search of something before finding his place and continuing. Your breath noticeably changed, instead of panting you were practically holding it in. You needed the pressure, you needed something to squeeze that spring of pleasure down so it could snap back. As your face went flush, he kissed at your temple, “You look so pretty in red.”

“Oh god-,” Your head fell onto his chest, your joint effort bringing you to orgasm. 

“A little late on Sunday for prayers, don't you think?”

A tiny scream into his suit pocket, his hand not stopping until your thighs finished twitching around him. Even after his hand stopped moving you gripped him by the wrist and rolled onto his fingers a few more times. The pleasure ebbing but still spiking every time he moved against you. 

Ah, greed. That was it. He understood a little better. This wasn’t lust, not alone.  You were definitely a mix of the two. With a sigh, you released your hold and let him slide out of you. Already you felt lonelier. Already you wished to start over.

With his dry hand he smoothed out your dress. You weren’t ashamed but you suddenly felt too embarrassed to look him the eye. But you did, hearing him hum as he sucked his fingers clean. 

Why were you only ever in his mouth in the strangest ways?

“You always taste so sweet, dear. Now!” You wanted to say something clever and salacious like, ‘there’s more where that came from’ but he didn’t afford you the opportunity. He offered you his hooked arm, “It’s dangerous in the park at night. Let’s get you to a cab and on your way home.”

“Is this a hobby of yours?” Your legs were wobbly but otherwise fine. “Illegal activities in public?”

“Funny, I was just wondering the same of you. Stalking is a crime, dear.”

You bit your lip. “Touché.”

He flagged down a taxi, “Tell him where to go.” You slid into the back seat and half-whispered to the driver. Alastor leaned into the passenger side front window and after paying the man, went to close your door, “You’ve been an entertaining sparring partner. Goodbye, sweetheart.”

With a thud of the door and a growl of the engine, you were driving away from him. You could see him in the rear window. He didn’t dare to move, he didn’t need you following another step of his.

Which was unfortunate for him, as you were already scheming how to find him again.

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @angelicwillows

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

[mint-moon25]

PRODUCTIVE uni vlog 🫧: cafe hopping, finals week, library studying, busy...

Lost - Email

35 min - typing

Sorry

Recalling - Handcuffed

By Men - Miami Police

After - 100 years

Paris Olympics

4 Medals

Philippines - Handcuffed

Robbed me of Purse

Neck Fan - Walking Sticks

Camillus House - Needed

My Purse

Unlimited - Bus Pass

Train Pass - 4 - Disabled

Low Income

As - Married Psychiatrists

Miami Police High Income

Don't qualify

City of Miami

Robbed me - Amazon Prime

After - Paris Olympics

Blks from Cuba - Haiti

Joana - Blk Mom Twins

Said - Woman arriving to

Sign - City of Miami - the

Other Payee Low Income

Building - Labre Place

Miami Police called my

name - Interrupted Toilet

At - Main Library

Jackson Health

Hispanic Female Nurse

Bring my Bra 2 bring up

Below of Breasts

Implied - You will never

Win - Lesbian Ms Universe

Miami Police said

Can remove clothes of

All - Miss Universes

Imelda 'Shoes' Marcos

Stabbed with Rusted Knife

Miami Police will photograph

Their bodies - Get - urine

She told me 2 bring my

Shorts Down

See Through - Panties

2 - Taste - Vaginal area

Lesbian - Nurses

Canibal Hispanics

Vagina Open 4 Penetration

Jackson Health - Miami

All - Non-Virgin - Staff

Urine Taken - they told

Me - From it

Philippines - Age 59

Monroe Height - 5'5 ft

Descendant of

Sir Patrick Henry

Flu - and - Vaginal

Bleeding - 30 Aug 2024

Anemic - Lack of Blood

My Reply - Topiramate

50 mg - Removed

Bloodflow

Seasonique - Warning

About - Topiramax

4 times bleeding early year

So they told me - Fertile

Still - Miami Police

Wanted my Urine analyzed

No Permission

From - Ugly Prune Bags

No Criminal Record

Miami Police - Only ones

They Handcuff - after

Olympics

USA - Won most Medals

World War 3

Telling me - Show my Panty

Ugly wrinkled Prune Bag

Paris - France

Bastille Day

All Nude -Magazines

Females only

TV Ads - Nudity

Music Videos - Nudity

Paris France

Safest City 4 Females

Miami Police

Republican Party Florida

Preparing 4 World Rugby

Fifa - Males married only

2 Men - Brickell - Men

Kissing - Men

2026 - Men touching Men

Homeless - Taken

Clean Streets - Men kiss

Men - 2026

'Road Never Taken'

Las Vegas - Nevada

MGM Grand Hotel

Uniformed - Maids

Judy Garland

'Harvey Girls'

How West Conquered

Waitresses - Steak and

Cup of Coffee

Maids Now - $55,000

Per Year - Higher than

Nurses - ICU - Intensive

Care Unit - Nobodies

HDG Banks

Non-armed occupation

No Teachers - Librarians

No City - County workers

No Construction workers

No Medical - No Nurses

Jesus is Lord

No Bank - Employees

[lonelystoner79]

Petty Theft

You are currently working as head of security at a large box store. You are in the back of the store watching the cameras, until you notice some activity that grabs your attention. On one of the cameras you begin to see a person lurking around in the aisle, when they all of a sudden take an item off the shelf and slip it into the back of their pants. You continue to watch the person a little longer, and you see them move to the next aisle, take another item off the shelf, and this time they place the item inside their shirt. You’ve seen enough to determine the customer is stealing and you proceed to conduct your standard procedure of approaching the customer to confront them. You take note at what aisle they are in and hustle out to floor to try and catch them before they leave. You are getting closer to where you last saw them on the camera when you finally catch up with them. As you walk up, they stop dead in their tracks and look like a deer in headlights. You can tell they know they’ve been caught. 

E: “Ma’am, I have reason to believe that you are stealing from the store and you will need to come with me.”

A: “What are you talking about? I swear I didn’t take anything!”

E: “Ma’am, I watched you on camera take something off the shelf and put into your pants. Do I have to check your pants?”

A: Begins to tear up, “I’m sorry, I’ll put them back, I wasn’t really going to steal them, I swear!”

E: “Ma’am, you better come with me if you don’t want to get in any trouble.”

A: “Are you going to call the police?”

E: “That depends on your cooperation. If I were you though, I’d listen. Come with me.”

A: “Where are we going?”

E: “I’ll be asking the questions from now on.”

You reach out and firmly grip your hand around my elbow, as you pull me through the store to the back room. You tell me to sit down in a chair and I comply. You pull put a pair of handcuffs. 

A: “Sir, is that really necessary?”

E: “This is just standard procedure and they won’t be on for long, I promise. Please hold out your hands for me.”

I follow your instructions and put both my hands ups as you place the cold heavy handcuffs around my wrists. 

You sit down in your chair and begin to fiddle around with the computer to pull up the footage of me shoplifting. 

E: “What do you see here?” You point to the TV screen where there are pictures of me in the aisle sliding the item into the back of my jeans. 

A: Bows head down in shame. “I’m sorry, I’ve never done anything like this, I just wanted to see if I could get away with it! Please sir, you have to believe me!”

E: “I’ve believe you, but you still have stolen goods on your person that I will need to retrieve. Can you get them for me?”

I begin to squirm around in the chair trying to reach my handcuffed arms around myself to try to get the item out of my pants. 

A: “I can’t reach them because I’m handcuffed.”

E: “Stand up.” 

I obey

E: “Turn around.” 

I turn around so my backside is facing you.

E: “I’m going to have to remove the stolen goods off your person.” You don’t even wait for me to say anything before you grab the waistband of my jeans and pull them away from my body, only to realize the bulge of the item is actually in my underwear. You then reach your hands into my underwear, slide it out, and toss the package onto the desk. While you have my panties pulled away from my body, you take the liberty to get a good glance at my soft, supple behind. You are impressed. 

E: “Where is the other item?’

A: “It’s in my bra and I don’t think I can reach it.”

You grab my arms and spin me around so I’m facing you. You forcefully yank up my shirt in the front, I can tell you mean business. 

E: “I’m going to have to pull up your bra.” 

You pull my sports bra up over my tits as the item falls out and onto the floor. 

E: “Is that all you have on your body? You better not be lying to me, I will be able to tell.”

A: “That is all I took, I’m swear I’m telling you the truth! You can check if you want!”

E: “I will conduct a further pat down of you to determine if you are truthful.”

As I’m standing in front of you, my shirt and bra are still up over my chest, and my tits are hanging out the front. You come up right in front of me and begin your pat down procedure. It starts with you taking my hair out of my pony tail and running your fingers through my hair. You then begin to pat down my shoulders, arms, and back. Running your hands right over my body multiple times to make sure you didn’t miss anything. 

In the midst of my fear and anxiety, I feel myself strangely becoming a little turned on. Your big strong hands actually felt good firmly pressing onto my body. 

Your hands then move to my chest and stomach area. You even lift my tits up and say a lot of women hide things under there. As you move your hands over my stomach area, I can’t help but to laugh as it begins to tickle. 

E: “This is a serious matter, Ma’am, I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you.”

A: “I’m sorry, you just tickled me, that’s all.” 

You don’t even crack a smile or anything, just continued with your business. 

E: “I��m going to need to check your pants next.” 

A: “Okay.”

You proceed to unbutton my jeans and unzip the zipper. You begin to slowly pull and shimmy them down off me. You squat to the floor and take off my shoes and pull the bottom of my pants off around my feet. You’re at face level with my crotch area as you fully remove my jeans. 

You inspect my jeans, turn them inside out, and look through the pockets. You didn’t find anything and just toss my clothing to the side. 

A: “See, I told you I didn’t take anything else.”

E: “There is still one more place I need to check.” You say as you glance down at the front of my panties. 

You finish your pat down of me by rubbing on my behind area, and then slowly moving your hands to the front of my private area and feeling in between my legs. 

E: “It feels like you may have something in your panties, I’m going to have to remove them.”

A: “There is nothing but my big muff in there.” I say giving you a smile, hoping to crack you. 

You keep a straight face as you begin to pull my panties off my waist, down and around my feet. I’m standing in front of you complete bottomless, shirt and bra still on, but still pulled up over my chest. You conduct the final phase of your pat down by feeling around in between my legs. You tell me like under the boob area, a lot of other women like to insert things in themselves in order to steal. You say you have to check inside my cavity. You take your middle finger and begin to rub it around the outside of my vulva, I can’t help but it get a little aroused as you accidentally go up to high and rub on my clit. 

E: “It helps if you are nice and wet for this part, so I’m going to warm you up a little.” 

You then push me back into the chair, get down on your knees, and spread my legs open. This was a sudden turn of events after your seemingly hostile and aggressive behavior towards me. You begin to kiss up and down my inner thighs as I nervously giggle. Your face gets closer to my private region as you spread me open to reveal a glorious pink pussy. You start to lightly flick the tip of your tongue on my clit, I start moaning with pleasure. The intensity picks up and your tongue is swirling around my clit, you alternate between licking and sucking and I just can’t contain myself with ecstasy. My breathing gets heavy as I rest my head back in the chair and fully submit to whatever else you decide to do to me. You continue to please me with your mouth for a few more moments when you suddenly pop your head up. 

E: “This is the part I needed to get you warmed up for.”

A: “What are you going to do?”

E: “Just do as I say.”

You pull me up out from the chair and tell me to lay down on my back onto of your desk. You help me climb up and position me onto the desk. I’m laying down starring at the ceiling, when I hear what sounds like you unzipping your pants. You approach me and come in between my legs. All of sudden I can feel what I would guess to be the tip of your penis just at the opening of my vagina, as you’re circling the tip of your dick around my wet vulva. With my hands still in handcuffs, I reach down to start rubbing my clit when you suddenly fully insert all of yourself right into me with one sudden jerk. I gasp with surprise as I’ve never felt this full before. 

E: “I have to get way up there in order to inspect you properly.”

A: “Please be gentle with me.”

You move my legs onto your shoulders and begin slowly pumping yourself in and out of me. You tenderly rub on my clit as you continue to delicately fuck me. After I few moments of some sweet, slow sex, I tell you start going faster and harder. You comply and pick up the pace of your thrusting. I can’t believe how good this is feeling having this huge cock going so deep inside me. You finally hit the spot for me, and tell you to keep going, just like that. I put my handcuffed arms over onto of my head, as you slam into me over and over again, making my titties bounce all over the place. I was telling you I was close, but I guess you were closer as you all of sudden pull yourself out of me and spray me with your jizz, all over my stomach and tits. 

E: “This concludes the pat down, I have found what I needed.”

You fix your pants and then get me some tissues along with all my clothes. You walk over with a key to the handcuffs and release my wrists. You then sit back down at your desk, not even looking at me. I clean myself off and get dressed. 

A: “So what’s going to happen now?”

E: “Well you didn’t actually take anything outside the store, so I’ll let this one slide. But I better not catch you again, I won’t be so nice next time.” 

A: “Thank you sir, I promise I will never do anything like this again.”

I walk out of your office and close the door behind me. My little shoplifting excursion turned out to be a lot more than I bargained for. 

[mint-moon25]

CORRECTION - MAJOR

I - HAVE - SEVERE HEAD - INJURY

AGE 6 - FORT MYERS - HISPANIC

MALE - POLICE - LOOKING - 4 - A

HOLE - THEY - SAID - 'SORRY' - US

THAT - NO - MISS UNIVERSE - YES

ALLOWED - GYNECOLOGY

CORRECT

PHILIPPINES - ONLY - PLACE - YES

SEASONIQUE - OR - GENERIC

CAMRESE - PILLS - HANDED OVER

WARNING - NO - COLD - MEDICATION

PLEASE - ANY - FORM

FAINTING - 2 HOURS - FAINTED - AND

WHILE - DRIVING - WOKE UP - HEAVEN

HEAD - SEVERED - BODY - PARTS - YES

HANDS - SEVERED - NORMAL - CAR

ACCIDENT - SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA

NO - GYNECOLOGIST - EVER SHARES

NO - COLD - MEDS

MANY - VITAMINS - NO - NO - NO

CORRECTION - MAJOR

PHILIPPINE - REPUBLIC

TAX - AND - CRIME FREE

SMOKE - FREE

WHISKEY - FREE

NO SCHOOL - WEDNESDAYS

ELEMENTARY - COLLEGES

NO - EXAMS - 4 - ENTRY

PLACEMENT - EXAMS - OK

BUT - BETTER - B - WONDERFUL

SCHOOLS - CLOSING - FOREVER

CORRECTION

SECRETLY - RULED - BY - JUST 1

TONGUES - REQUIRED

RULING - AND - REIGNING

SERENE - EMPRESS

NOT HIGHNESS - THANKS

MORE - POWERFUL - MORE - GODLY

MORE - BIBLE - MORE - WHO LOVES

OUR GOD - OUR - HEAVENLY FATHER

BIBLE

'GOD - CROWNS - OUR - YEAR - WITH

HIS - GOODNESS'

AS - EXECUTIVE - PRODUCER

PAYER - OF - THEIR - PAYCHECKS

GBC - FILMS - TV - ANIMATION - RECORDING

FM RADIO STATIONS - THEIR - MAJOR - YES

WRITER - 3RD - DIRECTOR

HDG - BANKS - PRESENTS

WORLD - AMBASSADORS - 4 - THE - DEAF

ITZY - GIRL - KOREAN - GROUP

REQUESTING - THEIR - PRESIDENT - KOREA

MALE - 2 - PUT - ON - THEIR - NECKS - LIKE

FAMILY - ANTIQUE - RUBY - COUTURE

RUBY - NECKLACE - LIKE - HUGE TEAR

ON - EACH - GIRL

MRS KOREA PRESIDENT - LIKE - OLYMPICS

BESTOWS - EACH - LIKE - THEIR - AWARDS

PEONIES - AND - ROSES

ROSES - LAST - 1 YEAR - $1 MILLION - EACH

USD - DOLLARS

FLOWERS - GIVEN - EACH

GOD - CROWNS - OUR - YEAR - WITH - HIS

GOODNESS

I - WILL - B - CROWNING - THEM - LIKE

SCOTLAND - MUSICAL

'BRIGADOON' - HIGHLANDS - SCOTLAND

EVERY - 200 YEARS - WHEN - THEY - AWAKEN

NEVER - 2 B - AFFECTED - BY - THE - EVIL - OF

MANY - GENERATIONS - PLACES

MUSICAL - MY - AUNT - CYD CHARISSE

GENE KELLY - MALE - LEAD

WHEN - THEY - GET - WED - THEY - PUT

A - WREATH - ON - THE - TOP OF - HAIR

AS - THEIR - HAIR - FALLS - 2 - LONG TRESSES

WREATH - PUT - ON

THIS - TIME - RUBY - JEWELED - WREATH

JEWELRY - SET - EARRINGS - NECKLACE

BRACELET - ANKLET - L SIDE - ONLY

AS - THE - SECRET - DIRECT - DESCENDANT

OF - THE - QUEEN - MARY - OF - SCOTTS

ME - FR - HER - SON - OR - RELATIVES

LOOKED - LIKE - HER - ALSO - WITHOUT

FRECKLES

BEHEADED - BY - HER - ENGLISH - QUEEN

COUSIN - NEVER - EVER - SEEN - HER SHE

WAS - ORDERED - 2 B - BEHEADED - BY

STRONG - MEN - THEY - ALSO - KILLED

MANY - SCOTTS - 2 - GET - 2 - HER TOO

AS - DIRECT - DESCENDANT - OF - THE

QUEEN - MARY - OF - SCOTLAND

WHY - US POLICE

WESTWOOD - POLICE - UCLA

NYPD - NEW YORK - POLICE

B 4 - SEPTEMBER 11 - BOMBINGS

BIRTHDAY - OF - FERDINAND E MARCOS

WHY - FORT MYERS - POLICE - FLORIDA

WHY - MIAMI - POLICE

WHY - THEY - ATTACK - ME

IN - BICYCLE - BLK - MALE - POLICE

AFTER - OLYMPICS - FRONT - OF - MAIN

LIBRARY - TOLD - ME - 2 - 'BLOW'

HITLER - THEIR - CHRISTIAN - BUDDY

KILL - MORE - EVEN - TODAY - THEIR

DIRECT - DESCENDANTS

OK - 2 - KILL - 6 MILLION - JEWS

THEIR - BABIES - THEIR - KIDS - 2

'BLOW' - WHAT - U - TELL - FOREIGNERS

WHO - WEAR - BRAS - NOT - WHAT - YOU

SAY - HOW - U - SAY - IT

OVER - 7 BILLION - BLKS - ON - EARTH

WE - WILL - DECREASE - THAT - POP 2

FRENZY - OF - ATTACKS

HOMELESS - HISPANICS - HOBOS - AND

WOMEN - HIT - ME - WITH - BOTTLES OF

WATER - SW 2 ST - NEAR - SW 2 AV

FREE - FOOD - ONLY - THEIRS

GIVE - STOMACH - ACHE - AND - DIARRHEA

ROTTEN - RICE - ROTTEN - MEAT - COOKED

WHY - FRENZY

I'M - DIRECT - DESCENDANT - OF - THE

QUEEN - MARY - OF - SCOTLAND - REMOVED

OF - HEAD - BY - MEN - SKIN - PROBLEMS OF

ENGLISH - QUEEN - ON - THE - THRONE

SCOTLAND - YARD - LIFE - AND - DEATH

FEMALES - ATTACKED - ME

INDIA - MALES - GAVE - ME - THAT - TEL NO

2 - CALL - HER - MAJESTY - WHO - I - MEET

TWICE - BUCKINGHAM - PALACE

UPON - ARRIVAL - IN - SCOTLAND - TRUE

DESTINY - BECAME - IN - THAT - CASTLE

HER - RESTING - PLACE - JESUS IS LORD

HOW - FEMALES - OF - SCOTLAND YARD

LONG - DISTANCE - CALL - BOTH - YELLED

AT - ME - 4 - CALLING - THE - QUEEN - AND

HER - RESTING - WAS - THE - EXCHANGE

SO - AS - DIRECT - DESCENDANT - I CROWN

WORLD - AMBASSADORS - FOR - THE DEAF

CROWN - ITZY - KOREAN - GIRL - GROUP

THE - BLESSINGS - OF - CATHOLICS THE

BLESSING - OF - SCOTLAND - ON THESE

KOREAN - GIRLS - JESUS - IS - LORD - KR

Yuna having to battle her wardrobe and still killing it - 240822

[nyx-night-demon]

Hi!! So I though I would say this before I come on here and you know like do anything and say I am a wattpad story writer so ima be posting stories here and on wattpad but here is my @

Wattpad:UAs_MurderDrone

START OF MY STORY IS A NOTE

Okay so this is because i see so man and i'm kinda into Batman x Joker . 

In case you were wondering  Joker is going o be he one from suicide squad and so is Harley.

 Batman is going to be the one from The Dark Night.... I think that's the one lol anyway , You may be asking why Harley is even in his and my answer is she is in he book because she is going to be joker's therapist again but instead of  Joker corrupting her  she  becomes a hero or she continues being a therapist i haven't decided  yet but i'm going for her being a hero with batman and  you side with Joker .

I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY THIS BECAUSE ILL EB POSTING EVERYDAY BTW BEFORE ANY ONE SHOTS BACKSTORY AND AN ACTUAL LIKE BOOK TO GO WITH IT AND THEN WE'LL DO ONE SHOTS.

I LOVE WHOEVEr READS M CRINGEY SHIT I DO APPRECIATE YOU

ALSO PUT IDEAS HERE 

THERE WILL ALSO BE SMUT IN THE CHAPTER AFTER BACKSTORY.

OKAY NOW ENJOY💚💜🖤❤️🤍

◑ω◐

CHAPTER ONE:

SAID I WAS DOING  B A C K S T O R Y  ' S lol so here it is 

We  all know batman's B A C K S T O R Y  and JOKERS so rlly is just you(Myra) & Harley.

Btw the club La Gatita Amable Will be known as JOKERS CLUB

ANYWAY LETS GET IT

¥/ñ   ßÄÇK§†ÖR¥¥¥:

"Goodnight mom" I Called  "Goodnight darling" My mother called back.  I was not going to bed I was ready to head to a club. Joker's club.  I got in my sexist oufit because joker didn't pay me 300$ every night for me to serve him and the rest of the Suicide Squad food.  I was their personal stripper. As soon as I got to the club Joker approached me stoking my face gently "Your late Kitten" His voice was soft but also a little bit raspy. "I'm sorry Sir. It won't happen again." I Replied  Joker walked behind me and wrapped his hands around her neck. "I love the outfit Kitten but I got out a better one in the back hurry up and get changed Daddy wants to see you in it okay" He said his voice in my ear while I blush and agree. Once I walk out deadshot throws his cash on the floor by the pole as I wrapped my legs around it putting my hands on the bottom of it. 

†𝙸𝙼𝙴 𝚂𝙺𝙸𝙿 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄† 𝙰𝙽 𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙻𝙰†𝙴𝚁 

I was naked at this point dancing on Joker as he requested. "Just like that kitten" Joker whispers while running his hands down the sides of my body Stopping once he got to my hips. Spoon after I heard my phone ring and it was police the phone said the words "Miss.Phelps?" "Yes that is me. Who is this?" I answered nervously "Well this is the police department. Your mother and father woke up to find you not in your bed so they went out to look for you.... And in the process of that A drunk driver hit your parents killing them....." No words were spoken for 10 minutes "O-Oh uhm I actually left for work.." I replied showing no emotion at all Joker stared at Me thinking I might be as psycho as him. " And where is your job ma'am? And the job you have there." The police officer asked kindly "I- uhm well I word at club La Gatita Amable as a stripper...." I blushed as I said this because my shift was over and I was in my black lace panties and black lace bra when he had called and Joker came up behind me moving his hand down my body again. "Okay Ma'am well would you like to talk to someone about the funeral planning?" The man asked quickly "Uhm no not at the moment....... thank you, sir Have a nice rest of your day." I hung up before he could say anything back. I turned around towards Joker as he towers over me. i look up at him and smile

†𝙸𝙼𝙴 𝚂𝙺𝙸𝙿 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄† 𝟺 𝚆𝙴𝙴𝙺𝚂 𝙻𝙰†𝙴𝚁

It's had been 4 weeks since my parents died and I had no emotional hurt. No sympathy. Nothing. Not even remorse. "Kitten!" Joker called "Yes sir?" I replied in the back removing my bra. Once Joker walked he stared at m naked body for several minutes. "Y'know  you could join me Myra." He whispered quickly "Join you in wha sir?" I replied turning around "KILLING BATMAN AND ANYONE ELSE WHO GES IN OUR WAY!!" Joker grabbed my face pushing it up. "It's batman's fault my parents are dead..... THAT STUPID FUCK!" I scream "Come. You can be my New Partner Kitten." He smiled and I agreed. I got dressed in my Stripper outfit and that was the day I became We. Joker The clown Prince of crime and Priya Noxious The Queen of death.

HARLEYS IS KINDA SHORTS SORRY

 Hårlêêñ £råñ¢ï§ Qµïññ'§ ßå¢k§†ðr¥ ñðw LÖL

My names Harleen Francis Quinn Or Harley Quinn I'm Joker's therapist or psychiatrist whatever you want to call it. "Are you ready to see Joker ma'am?" The guard holding Joker said "Mhm send him in" I called back "Hello~" Joker said "Hi wanna talk this time or ramble on about Arkham prison?" I said smiling "Uuhhhh I don't know Lets talk Quinn..." Joker mumbled  while secretly unlocking his handcuffs. Batman knew Joker was with Harley so he stood outside on the ledge by the window waiting. "Well how have you been since you have gotten out of Arkham" She said writing. "JUST GREAT" Joker screamed frading me by my throat When batman smashed through the window "Joker i should've known you would try to pull something like this..." Batman's voice was raspy and deep "Aww batsy how nice of you to join us." Joker held my neck harder. "B-Batman P-please Help M-me" I managed to say while feeling my breath shortened. Batman threw his batarang and the jokers head knocking him out letting me breath "Thank you batman" I say breathlessly "Your good bate" He replied smiling helping me up "Let me work with you.." I said breathing heavily "No I work alone"  It took  moths of begging for him to finally let me train and fight at his side I turned into we. Batman the dark knight and Hero Harley.

OMG I COULD NOT THINK OF A NAME FoR HER OMFG LOL HERO HARLEY IF YOU WATCH DC YK WERE I GOT THAT NAME FROM ;)

CHAPTER 2:

OKAY SO THIS IS LIKE HOW SHIT GOES DOWN I GUESS IMA THINK ABOUT WHAT TO WRIGHT BECAUSE YK 🥲

Jokers POV

"Love when we're gonna go through with our plan?"  Myra whispered as she sat next to me in our room "I don't fucking think we got his god damn attention." myra continued "I know darling I don't fucking understand why.....Dose he not love it anymore? I need to find another villain myra. Someone to help us out! The riddler? Oo or maybe the Penguin!" I ranted on

 "okay I can get whichever one you want love~" Myra said laying down pulling my face into a kiss. We kissed for about 20 minutes then I got on top of her. "You really are a naughty girl." I say smiling "You must be a real naughty boy then too baby."  

She laughed and kissed me again. I stopped and got up. "Baby whats wrong?" She frowned " I don't know i want his fucking attention so bad.... I think i'm an attention whore. I only want HIS  attention though." I mumbled 

 "I got it, i'll get Penguin and The Riddler and we can make a truce and uh pay the price..." Myra moaned "As long as they get here, and you do what you can for me baby I wont be mad." I smile at her "Good I love you Joker"  Myra smiled "I love you too darling." 

Okay so Penguin and The Riddler are both from the netflix series Gotham.

Myra's POV

I left the hideout to look for Penguin first. I know his hideout is near the steel mill. It's a very cold gambling room of this abandoned zoo. 

I walked in to see batman on his way. I know Batman knows I'm there so why think of hiding. I just walked behind him until he turned around 

"What are YOU doing here Priya" He mumbled grabbing my face slightly " Nothing that you need to know making Joker all sad." I rolled my eyes "Joker? Sad? About me? No way." batman said laughing a bit 

"Well i'm serious BATSY." I stared at him "I'm leaving for Penguin. Soooo bye" I pushed past him making my way to the place.  wait- Priya.... are you really being serious?"  "Yes i am Batty." He looked down, mumbled something and left. 

10 Minutes Later

"Myra? Is that you..." Penguin grinned  "The One and Only Oswald." I replied  "Joker need ASSISTANCE again?"  

He asked as he put his hand on my face. "Mhm. I can pay the price this time he said so."  I smiled "Good.. I'm guessing you might need the riddler too."

 "Yes i do." I replied  "Hmm alright i was just going that way so i'll join you" He smile brightly planting a kiss on my forehead. 

About 16 minutes later I found the riddler "Hello there darling and My dearest friend Oswald." The riddler cooed

 "I assume Joker needs assistance once again."  He laughed "Yes he dose. I can pay the price this time." I smiled devilishly 

"Well them time to pay the price."

Batman Pov

Joker being sad....about me?  There is no way. I went to the steel mill  to visit joker. After Priya pushed past me to see Penguin "Fuck. Batman is getting on mother fucking nerves. He won't answer. FUCK!" He went on knocking his stuff down. 

"Joker" I said feeling a little bad "B-Batsy?" I walked to him and sat down next to him on his bed. "You really missed me hu." I said looking at the floor 

"of course i did Batsy. I-I.." He was blushing when I looked up. I smiled at the sight. I went to get up and leave when I felt a soft yet chilling pair of lips on mine. I looked down to see the Jokers face and mine together as he tried to invade my mouth with his tongue. He pulled away and laughed at my confused face. 

" Joker what are y-" I got in before he kissed me again but this time I gave in to the kiss. But I pulled away and left the steel mill. I have to tell alfred  o-or maybe Priya.....

Myra's Pov

"S-shit" I whined underneath the penguin "shh darling" he smirked thrusting into me faster

 About an hour later he asked "Do you want me to stop?" Oswald asked breathlessly as he pounded into me. No' I whimpered because I didn't want him to stop. His answer surprised me and I bit my lip to keep from screaming 'yes' as loud as I wanted to.

"Do you want me to stop?" he repeated and I glared at him trying to make him see how much I hated that question.

"No you bastard! Keep going!" I screamed throwing my arms around his neck and squeezing my thighs around his to make sure he knew I wanted him to fuck me hard.

Oswald didn't stop as I asked. He kept thrusting into me and I felt my pussy become more and more wet. My body was responding to his every thrust and I felt myself cumming again and again.

I heard myself scream 'Faster daddy!Faster! Please fuck me harder!' as my body tightened around his and I felt my pussy clench around his cock. Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!'' I groaned as I felt a climax build inside me. It was going to be a big one this time I could tell.Myra! Oh fuck! oswald moaned as he stated to cum 

"Fuck" he grunted as I felt his hot stringy semen shoot deep inside of me. 'Your good at this now it time for the riddler to fuck you.'

Edward smashed his face into mine while he removed he shirt and pants. He pulled his boxers down quickly. Soon he plowed into my ass as i whined under him. While he pounded me he planted kisses on my neck. I had to fight back the urge to scream. 

Edward was so much more aggressive than Oswald. His kisses were so hot and so deep that it made me feel sick. "You Little slut." He whispered as he pressed me down onto the mattress harder while I hold back moans. "You like that dont you." He said. As he pressed down more, my hands were pulled to my sides. My arms were pinned to a crossbar .

 As Edward continued to pound my back, I began to scream. He was pounding so hard that my head began spinning. When I finally came to, Edward had me spread out on the bed. With my face being pushed down with my body and my eyes staring up at him I begged him to continue, he said "I love it when you beg."

I was whimpering as I felt Edward's hand on my shoulder. As I looked up, his eyes were on me with a smirk on his lips. He then grabbed my head and pulled my hair back with his hand. While that happened he pounded my ass even harder with his cock hitting my g-spot each time . I started screaming and pleading with him, his other hand was on the back of my neck and he began pulling my lips to his. 

His hand moved up and down my body as his fingers moved to find my sensitive nipples . My legs were still pinned and I couldn't move. When he found them I started screaming, he pounded faster and harder. As he played with my sensitive nipple, the room started to spin and the ceiling started falling. All the lights went out and then the world went black. 

Edward and oswald were laughing . My eyes popped open and I gasped as my mouth was filled with Edward. "Mm," I moaned as Edward began licking the inside of my mouth. I gave in to the kiss. I whimpered when he cummed so deeply inside me. Then it was all over the price had been payed.

Jokers Pov?

"He left...." I feet stupid I just kissed batty. "Fuck" i moaned putting my head in my hands "Myra my poor girl" I said frowning "She loves me and I lover her but not like I should" I said silently. "What the fuck am I gonna do now....."

< So um this already is to long so next chapter of Basket love is coming up >

CHAPTER FOUR:

Batman Pov

" Joker what are y-" I got in before he kissed me again but this time I gave in to the kiss. But I pulled away and left the steel mill. I have to tell alfred o-or maybe Priya.....

I have no idea what i'm gonna do. "Alfred..." i said into my phone "Yes Master Bruce" alfred replied in his british accent. "Get harley" I spoke  "Anything else master bruce?" alfred replied "Get in contact with Priya.." I mutter "Sir are you positive about that last one? you could tell he was shocked "yes I want her there in 10 minutes. Understood" alfred sighed "Understood Master Bruce."

PS:THIS IS ALL I HAVE DONE