#donate or get me a gift for personalized nudes! ^__^

[boytransmission]

This packer is too big for me it makes me giggle :,] Worthlessly hung bottom 4 life

Top surgery fund! <3 Wishlist

[refeminizeme]

THIS IS A KINK BLOG

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Mandatory disclaimer that transphobia in real life sucks and so does misogyny etc and i dont condone pretty much anything on this blog if its not in a consensual kink context, obviously. If this content triggers you pls block me, your mental health comes first.

_______________________________________________

kink list

loves

forcefem/feminization!!!!!!!

bondage esp sh1bari

brainwashing/conditioning/mind control

bimboification/dumbification

hypnosis!!!!!

breathplay (incl. being choked and more)

dp

edging & denial

sensory deprivation ♡

humiliation

consensual blackmailing but only w ppl i REALLY trust

gaslighting/manipulation (consensually and negotiated first, and only w the right person so dont do this right out the gate)

likes

cnc (if in the mood, with the right person i trust, etc)

breeding/sometimes pregnancy

spirals

intox (consensually and for the right person)

degradation in very specific circumstances/with certain people

exhibitionism/voyeurism

misogyny kink

hucow

curious about

lactation

currently exploring piss kink (will be tagged #piss kink, for those who wish to avoid it)

will update as i like, think of more???? if u think of anything not on this list ask me about it n like, it just may get added hahahahahaha

limits

findom/me

v0mit

scat

cgl/ddlg/daddy dom anything

age/re

alternate personality stuff/anything related to that

feet

body shaming, esp weight related

weight control/eating disorder stuff

racism/racist slurs/etc

any kind of inc3st including daddy/mommy as a title

ass to mouth in any capacity

rimming (giving)

_______________________________________________

i occasionally make detr4ns/misgen/bimbofication files (you can find them here!!) but im primarily a sub.

__________________________________

I used to be ftm and hypnosis fixed my brain 🥴

I've been listening to files for like 4 years+ and this is like, how ive turned out bc of it???? I really am detransitioning n becoming the best bimbo i CAN be irl this is not like, ENTIRELY a fantasy for me but i dont like, condone this stuff outside of a consensual kink context to be clear. if this stuff upsets you please block and move on.

currently my tits are an F/I cup depending on the day bc i haven't been keeping up my regimen 😅

also fwiw i AM a bigger girl, which like, means dont expect me to be the waifish manic pixie dream girl many guys like, seem to expect??? My icon + header are both me so that shld give u an idea of what to expect.

I have a gdrive folder full of nüdes (51 things including a few videos!!) n im offering access 2 that 4 an upfront donation of whatever we agree is reasonable n a small upkeep donation every so often. I dont update it often, but I do update a lot at once.

Alternatively, should you be interested in saucier content on the reg, I've made an MYM.fans acct!! I plan 2 upload all the good stuff on there n thats $10 a month, ish.

I also do custom hypnofiles, pics/vids/audios/etc. DM 4 details.

Lastly, should you feel like being generous n tipping/ buying me a gift, my c4sh4pp is $pavementflower n you can buy me gifts/contribute 2 gift money here!!

im in a polyamorous relationship with someone, n also a dynamic with a Dom. im not really looking atm but im open 2 play through asks just dont ask me 2 touch myself 🙈 I'm also not allowed to send nudes 4 free soooo yeah 😅

[donnerpartyofone]

Despite the internet's reputation as a boiling cauldron of bad feelings that foment into bad behaviors even in the most ordinary people, it's surprising how little of that I've experienced directly. Maybe it's because I don't spend a lot of time on Twitter or Facebook where things seem extra bad, I don't know, but the number of times I've encountered what I'd call a genuine troll are very few and far between. The small number of people I've had friction with here were, in descending order of volume:

1. People who actually mean well and want to socialize, they just can't balance their anxiety and need for attention well enough to really get along with people in the long term. They're like lonely kids who break something so a busy parent will notice them. I usually give these people a chance until they get cross a line, which they can't seem to help doing, but they never seem totally happy about it. Oh well.

2. People who are obviously nuts, if you'll parson my glibness. Oustanding examples include the guy who I thought was joking about asking me to be in fetish porn involving wedgies, until I realized he was serious because he became rude about it; some far-right kook who sent me a lot of fragmented scraps of "news" about the dangers of immigration in Scandinavia; somebody who tried to make me help him stalk my friend, who then stalked me for a while. Dealing with people like this sucks, but it's hard to get fully angry at someone who is totally disconnected from reality.

3. Finally, actual trolls. I mean a REAL troll should be a brilliant prankster who can wind you up in an imaginative way, but there aren't many of those in the world so for convenience's sake we'll include people with no sense of humor who are just rude to strangers on purpose for no reason. I've encountered way fewer of these guys in the last 10+ years here than I'd ever have imagined. None of them stand out in my memory, they're not interesting. It's always the same: Some dude I've never heard of finds a post of mine and adds a shitty comment that has no real substance to it, it kind of just amounts to "I don't like your blog." And there's really no way to look dumber than admitting that you follow and interact with people you don't like; this abuse doesn't work the way the troll thinks it does, I'm never personally offended--how could I be, who cares how these people feel? I usually just have a moment of confusion about why people who think they're so superior only do things that they say are beneath them--I mean, if you're so much better than everybody else, don't you have something important to do?--but I know in reality they're just people who have no power in their own lives. They're like customers who abuse cashiers and waiters because it's the only time they feel like they have power over anything. It's annoying, but it's also really pathetic and hard to take seriously. Blocking them is like a little gift you donate to the poor, because it makes them feel like they "owned" you and have "won" something, though what prize that is is known only to them. Whatever, they can have it.

For the most part though, people on tumblr have been surprisingly nice to me. I've made a lot of great friends, and even the strangers who just stop by now and again are usually kind or, at the very least, polite. Maybe I just don't post a lot of the hot button stuff that attracts friction, like politics or nudes, but if I had only my own experience to go on, I'd say the internet is a much nicer place than people would have you think it is.

[vaingloriosa]

Ok yes. I saw a random tweet that led me down a rabbit hole and now I’m here. I’ve been looking for a sane part of the internet of Dechartgames that isn’t shrouded in worship. I just went through some of your old posts and omg. Also a woc who didn’t feel QUITE comfortable in the fandom by the time late 2018 rolled around. Ugh I really wanted to dive into all of those links about the negative impact B + A’s community has had in the fandom but they’re gone now :-( Also I wanted to point out how Neil seems to be a better ally and who has also moved on from DBH even though he also streams on twitch.

Someone else pointed out how B+A only care about subs and money which yes. Twitch subs and their merch appears to be their bread and butter at the moment, BUT there’s this one particular fan of theirs that seems to go overboard with the donations and gift subs, sometimes dropping more than a half a grand worth of gift subs and stickers in one stream. I think to date they’ve gifted 4000 subs (which Twitch weirdly announced). If it were me I would be a bit concerned because of the signs of para social relationships and not wanting someone to go broke over a free to watch platform. But nope they smile and move on lol.

So curious as to what off camera interactions you’ve witnessed because as we know social media and what is essentially their weekly tv show is not 100% real. Again comforting to see some of this shared suspicion and feelings. This has turned into a long rant but yes also their constant praise of DBH even during all of the bad PR David Cage was getting back in 2018-2019 is gross. They don’t have to burn bridges, but these anniversary streams and such omg let it go. Idk how you can be an ally to the LGBTQ+ community and still speak positively about a guy who allegedly did a nude composite of Elliot Page and displayed it at a party.

omg hiiiiii i would luvvv to know what tweet u saw that led your way to me......... also, yeah i've changed urls on this acct waaay teww many times that most links to my lectures don't work </3 though i appreciate that you were interested in them! most are real long rambles that are an endless stream of consciousness. it's always the same stuff i say so dw you're not missing out on much loll. neil <333 nothing but love and respect to neil. most of the cast came out of that game unscathed pero alas we have causalities SAD! well, there are better actors out there.

idk how twitch works however damnnnn that sounds like a lot of money being blown on people that do not deserve it. like yeah, you can spend your money as you like though whenever i think how people can use that money in more meaningful ways, it just upsets me. i remember years ago, i had reached out to somebody on twt who had some really terrible experiences in the dechartgames community and let me in on some insight and it's sooooooo bizarre how more ppl haven't spoken out about it then again, it isn't THAT weird given the cult-like environment they've cultivated.

not me personally but again, the ppl that have messaged me in the past during the height of the dechartgamism where i was talking extensively about them. yeah, idk how these ppl who obviously own a laptop and computer who could easily search up david cage online and find out the gross and vile shit he has done and still advocate for him and his games. respect but i do think they should really move on from dbh like everyone else and explore the world around them. to me, you cannot be an ally and associate yourself with bigots and bigoted media. it really goes hand in hand and if they cared, they would close up the dbh shop for good

[yoongsisbae]

XxXmas Stream with V | KTH

Stuck in Quarantine for the Holidays you decide to use this opportunity to hold a special X-Rated X-Mas cam show. You wanted to treat your friends and family to really nice Christmas presents this year, and Santa’s not paying your bills! So you’re going to have to be a little naughty. V has been a good boy (so you think) so you give him extra attention this holiday.

Yandere!Taehyung x camgirl!reader feat yandere!Yoongi

Sorry for the delay, I tried to make this a text fanfic to continue my ‘trying new writing styles’ series, but...it was a disaster :'). Holy moly I never knew how complicated making those fake group messages were?! Authors who make those kind of fanfics I have a newfound appreciation for your stories!!!

Warnings: yandere story!! Lots of Tae's POV so it gets intense and creepy fast o.O unhealthy obsession, reader manipulation, sharing nudes without consent, voyeur, masturbation, sex toys, stalking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia

Word count: 2k

---

BROADCASTING: 3…

Beep. Turn off the music? Or, shit, keep it on? No.

…2…

Beep. The Christmas lights feel hot against your legs.

…1…

Beep. It won’t burn, right? Does this look stupid?

○ LIVE

You feel stupid. The Christmas lights click together as you shift into position.

[V has entered the chat room.]

“Hey V.”

---

5 HOURS UNTIL SHOWTIME

Ugh.

You gave up on decorating cookies. You take an angry bite out of the still-warm-cookie-blob, the store-bought sugary dough had transformed from cute raw cut-outs into massive cloud-like figures instead. ‘Oh well,’ you were the only person who was going to eat them anyways, you think, dipping cookie-blob-man into the accompanying premade white icing tub.

What the fuck is cheerful about being stuck inside alone during the holidays?!

Your groceries sit on your stovetop because you’re too annoyed to put them away yet.

What the hell is merry about eating a Christmas meal for one, alone, in your tiny ass apartment, away from your family and friends on Christmas day!?

At least you didn’t have to work during the holiday rush hours…mainly because your hours had been cut down to zero. Hmph.

But you didn’t care, you were making a killing, more than twice as much as you used to make before the pandemic, even after all the overtime and holiday pay, with the added bonus of not having to deal with entitled screaming customers taking out the stress of their lives on you.

Your new customers had a very different kind of entitlement now, transactional favors meant your time and body were theirs, if only for a few hours every night. But you didn’t care, you couldn’t afford to care, and now, with Christmas just around the corner, and the opportunity to be able to buy your friends and family really nice gifts this year...you know, the kind of gifts that make them go, “Wow!” Maybe shed a grateful tear, appreciate you as their daughter. Maybe return the favor next holiday... Well, you didn’t see the harm in indulging your new patrons a bit more this season.

Logging into House of Cards, you search through your mailbox, now full of new messages. Sweet offers for ‘alone time,’ donations disguised as Christmas presents, well wishes and dick pics.

‘Special xXx-Mas Stream tonight for one lucky follower!’

You type the announcement out, pinning it to the top of your message board, making sure to attach your donation link, the most important part.

---

4 HOURS UNTIL SHOWTIME

Taehyung checks the time and notices messages from Jungkook. Earlier in the day he had sent pictures, he had promised the younger man screenshots, lovely pictures of white and lace and spread legs. Looks like Jungkook was no longer preoccupied with the images.

fuck. please more

new Dahlia live, but only one viewer

who do you think will get it?

Taehyung texts back, ‘I’m going to win it don’t worry :)’

Jungkook responds in string of texts

good luck. Min is obsessed

do you think she will wear red tonight?

she hasn't answered my messages yet :(

Jin told me she has private sessions with him!!! he’ll probably win this one too!

‘Not this time,’ Taehyung thinks, and let’s Jungkook know his plan.

---

Taehyung sends the man in question a simple text: ‘pull your bid’

Fuck off?

Taehyung takes a deep breath, composing his next message: ‘Or I could just outbid you :) I have all the transaction logs pulled up’

Your point? So do I

Taehyung can't believe it; That asshole! What he is doing is totally off limits!

‘ugh Min, just let me have her for tonight’ ‘you really want to spend all day in a bidding war?’ ‘I will win’ ‘and I’ll make sure to outbid you by a dollar :)’

Taehyung's cell finally lights up with a notification.

We’ll see....

‘What if a promise to send you screenshots??’

Yeah, sure. Merry Christmas, asshole.

Taehyung knew Yoongi would fold, he just knew it! That egotistical prick thinks he has the site's top streamer wrapped around his finger, it makes him too indifferent about you. Does Yoongi even know anything about you?

Taehyung knows you, he listens to your grievances when you talk about your friends and family, he's compiled a list of descriptions every time you mention someone, getting closer and closer to seeing the full picture of your life, what goes past the boxed-in screen your pretty body fits into. Taehyung sees past your act, he studies the way you pause and look to the side right before you tell a little white lie, he knows when you wake up and when you go to sleep, tracking the times you're most active on the site.

Does Yoongi know the songs you like to hum to fill the awkward silence? Your favorite drinks, the ones you reach for when your throat is dry? Taehyung can even tell when your orgasms are fake, rewatching your streams for hours, edging his body to your soft moans. Taehyung might not be your number one donator, but he's getting there, and he wouldn't treat your precious attention so carelessly like Yoongi, never! Which makes tonight so important.

Taehyung makes a quick call to Jin.

“Hey, I need a favor.”

“You already owe me for your last favor,” Jin clears his throat, with the unspoken promise to collect.

“Oh! Did you convince Hobi to give you the CC database?”

“I'm working on it, these things take time, stop being so impatient.”

“Anyways, can you come up with some way to distract our Engineer? I made a deal with him to stay logged off tonight, but I don’t trust him.”

“Just lock his account?” he offers.

“It would be too obvious it was me” he frowns. “I just need him distracted enough not to change his mind.”

“Alright alright,” Jin smiles, “You're going to owe me big time.” Taehyung agrees with him hurriedly, blinded by his excitement, unaware of how much debt he's racking up with the eldest, who despite his aloof demeanor, expects retribution when the time comes, and will make sure he gets it.

---

3 HOURS UNTIL SHOWTIME

Floating in warm soapy water, soaking skin in calming lavender. You felt much better now. The relaxing bath had calmed you down, loosened your tense muscles, washed away your anger with cute bubbles.

It had become a nice routine of self care before streams. It helped with your nerves, allowed you to feel your best, your sexiest. It was a definite contrast to the cold showers you took afterwards, where you washed the lube and sweat off your spent body, hurriedly removing the evidence of your debauchery.

Reaching for your cell you check the website, answering new messages.

Suga: work is stressful, remembering last night is the only thing that's keeping me sane

Dahlia: last night was fun. don't want to do it again?

You noticed Suga never commented on your announcement or donated, and he always donated.

Suga: can't tonight, I am so busy

Dahlia: too busy even for me?

Suga: I always have time for you, baby. Tell me what you're doing.

You lean against the tub's edge, take a photo to send to Suga.

Suga: baby Suga: baby Suga: what are you doing to me Suga: how am I supposed to concentrate now

Falling your body back into the water, you can't help but giggle. You know you shouldn't, but you wonder what he was like in person. He clearly had a lot of money for someone who was so down to earth. Speaking of money, a ding from your phone alerts you of a sizable payment to your account.

Suga: what about a quick one right now?

You think it over. Two streams in one day, well, there's a first time for everything. And you're feeling extra naughty.

---

Propping your phone at the foot of your tub, Suga gets a screen full of tits, soapy and wet, bubbles obscuring the rest of your body as your seductive voice fills his speakers.

“I was thinking about what you said last night, about living life with no regrets.”

Suga: So will you accept my House invite? So I can finally meet you in person, I promise you won't regret it

Your coy laughter rings through as you splash around, moving your body away just enough to show your inviting lips to Suga, smiling seductively. “I’m thinking about it, is all.”

Yoongi leans back on his chair, his hands cupped under his chin and listens to the soft splashing of water, your fingers slipping over your wet skin and the perfect curves of your breasts, and he thinks about how one day it will be him touching you instead. Yoongi knows eventually you will say yes, he knows you're willing to do anything to keep your viewers happy.

He just has to push a little bit more, make you feel guilty for rejecting his offer so many times, do you not want to make him the happiest man in the world? After all he’s given you? He just has to make you think he's getting tired of you, you're no longer as desirable as you once were, if you can't keep the attention of your biggest fan, how can you keep anyone's attention? You’ll do it, Yoongi knows. You’ll do it to make him happy, to boost your ego, to silence your insecurities. Everyone goes to The House eventually, everyone. But right now, Yoongi just wants to watch you fall apart in front of his eyes, your soft wet body moaning out for him

Suga: and all I’m thinking about is you Suga: turn around, let me see more of your beautiful body

You follow his orders, you bend over when he tells you to, squeeze your tits, suck on your fingers, fuck your fingers into yourself with your legs propped up on either side of your tub, moan louder for him, swipe your thumb over your clit. You imagine it's a handsome stranger using his fingers to bring you to orgasm instead.

And when you come, pulsing around your digits, and realize the water is now cold and you're all alone, it's Suga's words that makes you feel better.

Suga: I don’t ever regret a moment with you, Sweet Dahlia. If you were here with me, I’d give you everything.

2 HOURS UNTIL SHOWTIME

Taehyung sorts through job tickets, he's come a long way as the website's webmaster. Now he has scripts for his scripts and Taehyung can do whatever he pleases while his coding does the job for him. He has so much free time now, too much free time. He devotes himself to you instead. Hyperfixates on you for hours. Two more hours to go.

And then he sees what he's been waiting for, a message from you inviting him to your xXx-mas stream.

V: I'm so happy, wow I never expected this!

Dahlia: see you tonight, V ;)

You were happy too. You liked V. He was pleasant to talk to compared to most. He was friendly and sweet, and he was very generous.

---

1 HOUR UNTIL SHOWTIME

You rushed around your apartment, dismantling your tiny Christmas tree like a real scrooge, pulling off the string lights wrapped around. This was a bit gimmicky, but you figured V would like it, he always wanted to dress you up. You didn't mind doing it (as long as he paid for it) and some of the costumes he picked out were cute even if they were sometimes a bit too frilly and lacey for your liking.

But it's almost Christmas! So, time to get into the Christmas spirit!

---

RECORDING

“Hey V.”

Taehyung licks his drying lips, your image filling the black screen on his computer. The string lights wrap around your legs and stomach like ropes, giving V all sorts of depraved ideas, his cock already painfully hard, he immediately starts stroking himself to the sight of you.

V: Hey Dahlia V: You look beautiful as always V: A present just for me tonight

“I'm all yours tonight.” Widening your legs, the lights dig into your thighs and Taehyung watches transfixed. So excited, it's easy for Taehyung to let his desires take over his mind, that when you run your tongue over the tip of your vibrator, he can almost feel the warm wetness of your tongue lick over the head of his weeping cock too.

He imagines your mouth hallowing out over his cock instead, lips stretching over and down his length, sucking him into your mouth. You would make that exact noise choking on his length, except louder. That noise, fuck he wants to hear it again and again as he rams his cock down your pretty throat.

He wants to make you so sore you can't speak for days, only so he can take care of you. Then he would fuck you as hard as he could just to hear your raspy whispers cry out every time he fucks you full-

You drag the vibrator to your core, stretching your panties to the side, letting it slip along your wet folds.

“Tell me what you want, V”

V: take your panties off, let me see all of you

Dammit, you didn't think this light thing through! The string lights hinder your movements and make it so you can't remove your undergarments. Thrown off, you look at the camera dumbly.

V: rip them off

Your core tightens. You've never done anything like that or had it done to you, and now you wish for the second time today that you weren't doing this alone. You sacrifice the lace thong at V's request, your arousal heightened.

V: open your legs wider, in the air, I want to see your legs shake V: higher, be a good girl, don't let them drop V: now, turn on the vibrator, put it to your clit

You jolt, gasping. The string lights jingle softly as your breathing escalates and body begins to shake. Biting your bottom lip, head falling back, the ding of V's messages snaps you back into your body.

V: Oh baby girl, you didn't cum already, did you? V: put it inside and cum again

Taehyung adds lotion to his hand, gripping his cock tighter, watching proudly as you convulse, a pained expression on your face in your overstimulation. If only you were here, fuck if you were riding his dick instead...

Taehyung snaps his hips up at the thought, letting his cock slip across his fingers. He imagines filling your pussy up instead, your body bouncing on his cock, his large hands squeezing your thighs so tight the string lights crack in his grip. You wail his name, tears leaving your eyes at how deep his hits up into you. He can see you, feel you, hear you, his pretty baby doll riding him-

“I'm s-so c-close,” you stutter, body tensing, your tired legs still haven't dropped. You lean back.

V: pull the vibrator out, finish yourself with your fingers.

You whimper, wishing you had the electric toy to make yourself come easier. You run your fingers back and forth across your throbbing clit, mewling at how sensitive you are now.

Taehyung pumps himself faster, moaning loudly as he watches your hole clench. He would do anything to stretch you open, fill your tight little hole with his thick cock, feel the warmth of your sex around him.

He watches as you spasm and shake, orgasming a second time. His own body about to go over the edge at the sight of your hole rapidly clenching and your whimpers.

“C-Can I put my l-legs d-down, p-please...” Your pleading voice and the way you obeyed him perfectly sends Taehyung over the edge. He drags out his orgasm, smiling and watching your body tremble and pant for relief.

Your kept your eyes shut tightly, so when you heard a familiar ding, your limbs automatically relaxed. You look up and sigh, thankful you had been right. You notice the time and smile, “Merry Christmas, V.”

---

THIS WAS SO FUCKING HARD TO WRITE HOLY FUCK I REWROTE THIS 4 TIMES OMG. So I really really really hope you like it :'D. Also, I am still organizing the next chapter of HOAL, forgive me, so I decided to release this next instead!

This story is set in C!HOC universe, if you like this drabble and want to read more, READ HERE.

[erodasfishtacos]

Crackin’ the Code

prompt: Harry and YN tie the knot in a beautiful castle off the coat of Italy. Harry reflects back on his life before his love. YN has past insecurities creep on on her before the wedding. 

note: this is the necklace that YN receives as (one) her wedding gifts from H and she wears it during the ceremony.

word count: 9k

warnings: smut

***<-- click for visuals throughout (super important for this one shot!)

if you enjoy this fic (which i worked REALLY hard on) please reblog, like, comment, and come talk to me!

please please considering donating to my kofi since all my work is FREE to you guys!

---

The world expected an extravagant wedding with week-long festivities, celebrations in destinations only the richest could afford, and all the big names of the business world who ran in his circle.

The media outlets were just waiting, quite impatiently, for the day that the richest man in Europe settled down with a significant other. They would have news stories for decades when it came to the couple.

Of course, Harry Styles was going to marry a household name - the public thought. 

Whether it be an heiress, a model, maybe even an actress? The choices for the most eligible bachelor were limitless.

Any time he was at an event, usually a charity gala or black-tie dinner, paparazzi would take candid pictures of him with any female and then the following day publish an article about how they were a couple.

However, what the world didn’t know was that he’s been in a relationship for a year and a half, has already been engaged after the eight month mark, and moved into pretty soon after but that was hushed.

Nearly no one except a few key employees and family members knew about the couple. Everyone in his office building in the heart of London had to sign NDA’s at the beginning of their job - though almost all of them didn’t know she existed.

Harry did not put any limits on YN for the wedding planning. 

No price, no expectations, nothing. If she wanted ten-thousand people or zero people in attendance that was her call. If she wanted to drop ten million dollars on a wedding or a hundred that was fine too.

The CEO never fantasized about a wedding. 

Well he had but no in the terms most do. He didn’t sit and imagine the venue, the food menu, or the decorations. 

No, he didn’t care about any of that, he daydreamed about the fact that he and someone would commit themselves to each other for the rest of their lives.

Harry wanted to marry his fiance after their first date.

He was usually a very patient man, couldn’t have gotten where he was if he wasn’t. When it came to this, each day he wasn’t married to the love of his life felt like torture.

Since he proposed to her in his briefs in their bedroom, he had imagined her looking immaculate in whatever she chose to wear, exchanging vows of devotion, and then being tied together for life.

He never thought he would get here. He’d never felt a connection with someone like he had with the feisty waitress who bumped into him. Begin to believe that he was broken or lacking emotion because no matter how sweet the girl was he couldn’t see himself with the person.

Don’t get him wrong. 

He took many women out on dates that were downright awful. Asking him about money, suggesting he take them on expensive vacations or buy them a designer item, being too forward and palming his crotch in the middle of dinner.

One of the last dates he went on before he gave up was the one that made him stop looking all together, about six months before he ran in YN.

---

It was an expensive restaurant in the heart of London. It had a waitlist for months but one call and they could magically make an available booth for the billionaire within the hour. 

The girl he was sitting across from was a so-to-speak blind date. 

A set up by one of his business partners who stated that they would be a good match. Harry had rolled his eyes at that but couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough to say ‘no.’

Her name was Aria, she had a respectable job at a local law firm as an assistant to a very well-known lawyer in the area. 

She was beautiful in the way of looking just like an instagram model with long dark extensions, false eyelashes that made it hard to determine what color her eyes were, and an outfit that made Harry a bit embarrassed to be seen with her - short and low cut at a five-star restaurant.

“Yeah, I just got back from Mallorca with a group of friends,” She tells him, flipping through the photo album on her phone to show him pictures. 

When she ‘accidentally’ swipes (and slowly swipes) again so that Harry definitely gets a glimpse of a nude selfie.

Harry internally groans, couldn’t be less turned on by that, and doesn’t acknowledge it - much to Aria's disappointment. 

She was fishing for a compliment, maybe a request for him to take the phone and look closer at the picture like most men would.

Instead he sits back, takes a sip of his wine, and nods curtly, “It looks like you had a good time.”

She stumbles for a second, confused by his sudden standoffishness, and clicks her phone locked before putting it next to her on the table, “Did I offend you?”

He was already done with the date, with the dating scene, with fucking everything honestly. 

What a goddamn waste of a night.

Harry barks out a cruel laugh, “It takes a lot more to offend me than a picture of y’tits but it’s a bit offensive that y’think so little of yourself that you think that’s how y’going to impress me. Those tits didn’t impress me much, darling.”

Aria’s eyes narrow in blatant disbelief at how much of an asshole he was being. 

Granted, she did feel a bit of embarrassment creeping up in her stomach about thinking showing him that picture was a good idea but still, he didn’t need to react like that.

“It really makes sense why you don’t have a girlfriend, it’s because of what an asshole you are,” The girl sneers with venom as she tucks her phone into her clutch, swigging down the last drops of the expensive wine.

He shrugs like he’s unbothered, a nasty feeling quilling in the pit of his stomach as he keeps an outward expression of nonchalance and ease, it make the raven-haired woman even more furious as he replies cooly, “I’m not being an asshole, honesty hurts sometimes. Maybe if you think the way you attract someone is by nude pictures, you should try Tinder or Bumble.”

“I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have,” Aria tells him before pushing out her chair and leaving before the main course even arrives. 

Harry sits there for a moment, swallowing and pleading with himself to not let the nasty words set in because they felt too real and too personal - she had actually struck some type of chord within and it had his stomach churning.

When he pays the bill, apologizing profusely for leaving dinner before the entree arrives but with an excuse of a company emergency - it’s eerily quiet in his car as he drives home to his massive home with no one in it.

It doesn’t happen often. 

He should call his mum, Gemma, Dorothy even to talk it out but he feels so fucking alone because he can’t get it right. He can’t connect with anyone and it is starting to feel hopeless.

He is angry, so angry at himself, that he can’t shake the feeling of it and he feels like he’s losing control because he never fucking talks about his emotions.

A beautiful set of dishware was sitting out his dining room table, the housekeeper had carefully unwrapped them earlier in the day. 

They were imported from Beijing, decorated with real gold, and handcrafted. It had cost him nearly forty-thousand dollars for a set of fucking plates and bowls.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

It is repeatedly on a loop in his head, glares at the items on the dinner table like they’re mocking him, and he has no wits about himself before he’s taking one of the beautiful bowls and throwing it against the wall as hard as possible.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

By the time he’s done, his chest is heaving, and his face is red. 

When reality starts to set back in, every single item from the set is destroyed on the floor, the wall’s paint chipped from where he’d hurled them.

He was so fucked up.

-

Harry couldn’t help but relieve the feelings of that nasty flashback. He couldn’t believe that he had been at that point in his life - not when he had the most all-consuming, amazing in every single way woman laying next to him in his bed.

YN had shown Harry that he had never been broken, he had just been waiting. 

She was his soulmate and he had been waiting for her since forever. He truly believed that as he looked at the girl next to him with enough emotion his heart might burst.

She was just...everything.

YN was so fucking funny - the funniest person Harry had ever met. She was loving in a way that made you feel like you belonged. Compassionate in a way that makes you want to be more selfless yourself. Intelligent enough that it was breathtaking and unreal - and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

She was uncaring of who Harry was - in the most perfect way. 

Money wasn’t a personality trait that she defined him with. She loved him for who he was at the bare basics, stripped away from his public life.

She was confident in a way that girls rarely were. 

Bared face and more beautiful than the highest-paid models. 

Her body was her own, embracing every curve and inch of it without any shame. Let herself be authentic in front of Harry which made him feel like he had won a secret lottery.

Right now, she was fast asleep next to him in bed after stuffing herself full of oreos that she was dunking in milk. She ignored Harry’s looks of disgust at the soggy cookies and munched away happily which made him happy in turn.

She still had a dark crumb on the corner of her puffy lips, her mouth parted just the slightest amount, and her face smushed halfway into the pillow. 

The shirt she had on was so oversized she was swimming in it and a pair of soft pink cheeky underwear.

Currently, she was the farthest thing from graceful and Harry loved that so fucking much. 

As they lay mere days away from their wedding, remembering that nasty flashback, he can’t help but remember their first date and how he had known from them that he had finally found a spark, a connection to another human being.

--

Harry cannot remember the last time he had been nervous. 

Maybe back in his teenage years? If that. 

It was an unsettling feeling that was currently pooling in the pit of his stomach as he changed his outfit for the third time before finally being somewhat satisfied with the suit he had picked out - tighter black jeans, black button-up, black blazer - couldn’t go wrong there. ***

YN had texted him asking what she should wear for their first date when Harry told her he was going to keep it simple and take her to a restaurant.

He had to dress nice, it was an expensive restaurant that he had not taken any other dates to before, it was right outside of London - going towards the countryside with a beautiful view of a meadow and stream.

When he had arrived in front of her apartment, well he had never been on this side of town, and it quite frankly looked like the roof of her building was about to collapse at any minute. It was rough to say the least.

Harry had picked out a car he thought would impress her. He remembered her saying the doors of his Lamborghini were stupid so he picked a car with normal doors this time. It was his new Audi Quattro that had cost him upwards of 170,000 pounds. ***

YN had popped out of the front door, her face didn’t read impressed when she saw the car like he had hoped. It was interesting before YN, he did not care whether or not his dates were impressed by him - now he craved it.

She looked extraordinary in a form fitting silky black dress that hugged every single curve of her body perfectly while accentuating them at the same time. Minimal makeup, loose waves, and simple high heels - it was like a dream that he was taking this girl out on a date. ***

When she slips into the passenger seat, the smell of her floral yet cinnamon perfume makes the car smell heavenly, she looks over at him and says, “You didn’t even come open the door for me. We’re off to a bad start, Harry.”

His heart sinks, fuck - he had been blindsided by her beauty that he wasn’t even being a proper gentleman, “M’so sorry, I wa-”

She chirps out a tender laugh, patting his arm, “You’re face, oh my god. I was just fucking with you.”

Harry’s frown turns into a pout, “S’not nice, pet.”

YN shrugs before a bit self-consciously adjusting the fabric around her midsection, “Erm, I hope this outfit is nice enough? It’s really the only semi-decent thing I own.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, “Y’look absolutely stunning. I can’t even believe y’real to be honest, so fuckin’ pretty.”

YN gives him a shy, unsure smile but he can tell she’s preening at the compliment internally (which she totally is).

The restaurant is one of the nicest in England, let alone London. 

There wasn’t even a menu, they just served eight courses over a few hours time by servers in suits with bowties on. 

YN had never felt more out of place.

As they sat down, Harry was proud that he was able to show off his abilities for a good date, YN was looking around nervously before looking up at the server and saying, “We didn’t get menus yet.”

The man gives her a humorous expression before telling her, “We don’t do menus here, miss. Your date is a regular, I am sure he can fill you in. However, we are starting off with a Cabernet from 2001 imported from Napa, California.”

As he pours the wine into their sparkling glasses, she asks unknowingly, “I don’t really like wine. Is there any way I could get a Coke?”

Harry frowns when the server laughs meanly at her, “Ma’am this isn’t McDonald’s. We do not carry soda. I can provide you with water, if you so wish.”

Harry can’t help but snap at the waiter, “Oi, she’s never been here before. Lay off with the attitude alright?”

“My apologies, Mr. Styles,” He murmurs obediently before finishing the pouring off the whine and retreating from the table.

YN is trying to hide how uncomfortable she is but it is still obvious with how she fidgets in her seat, doesn’t quite know what to do with her hands as she doesn’t even bother to reach towards the wine glass.

“This isn’t really your scene, is it?” Harry murmurs, embarrassment with his failure to impress her with an expensive car and dinner. 

It was falling flat and it was the only thing he knew how to do - flaunt his wealth, everyone else had always been impressed.

“No, it isn’t,” She agrees quietly, fingers folding the edges of the cloth napkin to keep her anxiousness directed somewhere, “I appreciate this, er, dinner. I thought we were going to go somewhere like Mary’s.”

Mary’s was a restaurant that was considered ‘nice’ to the commoners in the city. It was a bit more expensive than a pub and the attire was a bit fancier than if you were going out to a bar. 

For someone like Harry, that was not considered a fancy restaurant. 

However, YN was not him and this was not something that she had ever been accustomed to. He now definitely felt like an idiot.

It’s made even worse when a massive plate is put in front of each of them. 

The plate is huge but the dish is merely one scallop with a lemon sauce and sprinkle of parsley on top. YN can’t even try to hide her confusion at the food.

 “I’ve mucked this date up,” Harry sighs, nearly thirty minutes into the actual date. 

YN had taken a small bite of the scallop before setting down her fork and not touching it again - it tasted like dirty feet. Did rich people like that taste?

She decides not to answer directly, “I already know you have money. It doesn’t ‘wow’ me. I was hoping for a fun date, this is….nice but quite truthfully, not for me. I prefer a pub or bowling - this feels more like a business meeting.”

Harry usually doesn’t have dates that are this honest with him. 

He feels embarrassed but he really did appreciate her honesty. He should have known to do something different than this but he was comfortable with his normal pattern.

“Can we get out of here?” YN asks, placing the napkin back on the table and gathering up her small purse to swing over her shoulder.

He feels defeated as he nods, paying for the meal in full as he accepts that he’s fucked up the date beyond repair by being an arrogant, ignorant asshole who doesn’t truly know how to talk to a girl he likes.

It’s quiet as he starts the car and pulls back onto the road, he startles a bit when YN points to a glowing sign of a golden arch and demands, “Go there.”

With a bit of confusion, Harry pulls into the McDonald’s parking lot and then to the drive-thru as she motions for him to do so. 

God, he hasn’t been to a fast food joint in years now if he was being honest.

When they pull up to the screen, YN leans across and shoots out their food order with ease before sitting back with a smug smile, “We’re going to have a date my way.”

Harry sighs with relief when he realizes the date isn’t over - but really just beginning. They sit and chat in the parking lot. He is thoroughly impressed when YN manages a box of nuggets, a fry, and a milkshake without shame.

Not like she should be shameful - just usually on dates women were hesitant to actually eat and instead picked carefully at their food instead. Their conversation in the car is bright, at some points deep and meaningful, but refreshing. It made him feel young again.

After they finished eating, she’s ordering him to drive a bit further out into the country where he can’t help but make the joke, “Are y’taking me somewhere to kill me?” YN smiles happily with a wide grin, “You’ll just have to wait to see.”

It ends up being a lake. A beautiful body of water that was surrounded by trees that were being reflected into the ripples with the light of the moon. The only sounds were of crickets chirping and the light lapping of the water against the small shore. ***

“I used to come here a lot in the summer in high school,” YN murmurs as Harry takes in the scenery of everything. It had been so long since he had appreciated nature - not the bright clear waters in the tropics but something like this.

“S’beautiful,” Harry replies, can’t help but observe this girl he’s infatuated beauty in the moonlight. 

Her skin looks like it’s glowing, the moon sparkling off the twinkle of her iries, and she just looked...ethereal. Like she belonged in the beauty of the wilderness.

He couldn’t believe his eyes - had to blink harshly a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it when she pulls the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders and shimmy the garment down her body until she’s left in a delicate lace bra and cheeky pair of underwear.

Harry, always the gentleman, keeps his eyes (with effort) on her face. Unsure of what is going on in her mind before she turns around with a little run and dives headfirst into the deep waters before popping back up and giggling, “Jump in!”

She’s just so...carefree, adventurous. Harry hadn’t felt free in fucking years.

It has him shucking out of all of his clothing, just down to his tight black briefs before he’s diving in, right next to her, and feeling around. He wraps his hand around her ankle to teasingly tug her under with him before they both surface.

As they wad in the water, YN swims over to him, and wraps her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. Her soaking wet hair was dripping and he was breathing heavy, feeling his ribcage expand against her soft tummy.

She murmurs quietly over the light lapping over the water, “You haven’t even looked at me once.”

Harry swallows, feeling like a schoolboy again, “I...I didn’t want to without permission.”

“I want you to look at me,” YN replies, letting her nose nudge his and her eyes searching into his nervous ones. 

He nods, closing his eyes when he feels her lips brush his, letting his large palms grip at her sides and pull her closer to his chest. Their lips not breaking when his hands begin to explore the intricate, plush curves of her body.

They don’t do anything else, don’t go any further but he groaning when she traces her fingertips down his muscular, defined abs and thumb rubbing over the trail of light hair leading into his briefs.

After a swim, filled with splashing and dunking, they retired to lay in the grass. Both of their backs, looking up at the clear night sky, moon full and stars glittering against the stark darkness that surrounds it.

YN wriggle until she’s tucked into his side, hand running up and down his chest, as she says, “I’m sorry your date didn’t go as planned. I ruined it.”

“Y’didn’t ruin anything. I...I haven’t felt like this in a long time,” Harry admits as he gives off an embarrassed laugh, “I..I’m a little bit scared, to be honest.”

“Scared? Of what?” YN asks, lips pressing against a tattoo on his bare shoulder.

“Because I already am falling for you,” Harry utters, heart racing and his eyes glued upwards and pointedly not wanting to see her interaction.

“That’s a relief.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “A relief?”

“Yeah, I would say. I’m falling too,” YN whispers before leaning up to connect their lips once more as the moon rises further in the sky and the crickets sing a little louder. They lay like that for a very long time.

Harry went home that night for the first time not feeling the empty weight of his loneliness, instead he feel asleep imagining the beautiful, spontaneous girl next to him in his bed.

--

It wasn’t going to be the wedding everyone expected for The Harry Styles. **

There was not many invites set out for this event. It wasn’t the wedding of the century or the most expensive wedding of the decade.

Harry would have let his wife-to-be have this day however she wanted without complaint but could say he was very happy that it was going to a be a low-key event. It was going to be some of YN’s family, though she didn’t have much, and Harry’s extended family. No one from work or business. Just family.

They had just gotten finished with the rehearsal dinner, the couple being ordered to separate rooms for the final night before they were married. It was tradition. 

Harry had walked YN to her hotel room, they were staying at the venue, and pressed her up against the door. His hand coming to weave into her meticulously curled hair and cupping the back of her head, bring her mouth to his.

He wastes no time in letting his tongue find hers, hips coming to press her further back against the aged wood, and his teeth nipping roughly at her plump bottom lip, “Baby, y’gonna be m’wife tomorrow.”

YN’s eyes twinkle up at him like they did during their first date, “I can’t wait. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

His fiance laughs kindly as he gets a bit watery eyed, her thumb coming to swipe under his eye, she jokes, “Are you regretting proposing now?”

“Just never knew I could be this happy,” He murmurs against her lips, can’t help but reach around to grip a generous amount of her backside and pulling her flush against him where he’s hardening quickly.

“Mm, down boy. You don’t get the goods until tomorrow,” YN scolds, hand wrapping around his wrist and squeaking when he squeezes harder to get the point across - how much he wants her, all the fucking time.

“Want it now, pet,” Harry whines lowly, grinding his hips forward into her, “Give it t’me, y’mouth, y’cun-”

“Alright lovebirds! Separate now!” Gemma barks to interrupt with the laughter of their childhood friend Chloe.

They pull Harry by the back of the shirt and push him forward towards his room, Gemma smiles back at YN, “Make him put a ring on it before you give it to him!”

“Gem!” Harry scolds with a whine, giving his fiance puppy dog eyes and a pouted bottom lip, “Baby, don’t let them take me!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you!” YN shouts back, waving and smiling to herself as she opens up the door to her room and then locking it after she steps in. It feels weird being in a hotel room without him but she was a bit sweaty and her nerves were wiry so she decided a nice bath would be a good idea.

-

It’s past two in the morning and she was no less ready to find sleep. The worries of whether everything will be set up properly, if she’ll stutter during her vows, there were just so many things that could go wrong.

Life didn’t even seem real at this moment. 

She was marrying her husband at an amazing castle on the coast of italy with family to surround them in love. She had the perfect dress, the perfect flowers, the perfect partner. ***

She had never had it easy. Never thought she would deserve something like this. Harry had made her feel worthy of all this, they deserved to have a happy ever after. 

When it hits three in the morning, she can’t stand the quiet of the italian countryside anymore, and is swinging her legs over the bed. She pockets the keycard Harry gave her earlier in the day in her cotton shorts before sneaking out of her room.

After she taps the card to the sensor, the large oak doorknob clicks, she slips in and closes the door as silently as possible. YN steps in to the room, Harry's asleep in his bed on his stomach, face smushed into the pillow.

Harry’s facial expression and body language while he was awake was so severe, serious, intimidating. In sleep, his face was lax and his limbs loose. He looked more boyish when he was dreaming.

YN’s heart aches at how much she loves him, pulling the covers up, and crawling under them until she’s jostling him unintentionally, waking him from his light sleep with a mumble, “Baby, y’okay? Wha’s wrong? Y’alright?”

She giggles at his dazy panic, “I just missed you.”

“Mmm,” Harry agrees, pulling her all the way down and rolling on top of her, “Missed y’more.”

“You’re like a toaster!” YN squeals as he’s encompasses her, laying on her with his weight. His lips finding her pulse point and gently sucking. He was barely awake and he still couldn’t stop himself from her finding comfort in her body.

“I’m warmin’ y’up,” Harry growls against her neck before giving her a lick which has her giggling even more and pushing him off until he falls on his back and she’s swing her legs over his waist, straddling him.

“Y’breakin’ the tradition, m’heart.”

YN shrugs, humming while he palms at her belly, and she (much to his disappointment) ignores where he’s hard and waiting for her.

“I want t’sleep with you,” She pleas sheepishly, leaning all the way over to connect their lips in a quickie peck before she’s moving off of him and into his side.

“Never say no to you, y’know that, dovie,” Harry replies as if it’s obvious (it is).

“We’re getting married tomorrow,” YN whispers into the dark, like it’s a secret just between the two.

Harry nuzzles his nose against her temple, “Never wanted anythin’ more than I want you.”

YN can’t help but sniffle softly, overwhelmed with emotion and love, “You’re so good to me. I don’t deserve you.”

“You saved me. You saved me from myself, from where I was going. You gave me hope, feeling again. Y’are m’heart, it fuckin’ beats for you.”

It may not be tradition but YN wouldn’t of had it any other way, sleeping in a magnificent castle on the ethereal coast of Italy in a classic hotel room, and the excitement of their wedding rumbling in both of their stomachs.

--

“You sneaky bastards!” Bethany screeches, door flinging open with Gemma in tow as they intrude into Harry’s room - finding the couple curled up under the covers with Harry spooning YN with his face tucked into her hair.

“Fuck off,” Harry groans, pulling his fiance closer into his chest as she wriggles awake and whimpers lowly, “Mornin’ lovie.”

“Out out!” Gemma shoos, pulling the covers off of them and the sisters showing no mercy while they yank YN out of the bed and titter about how she needs to start getting ready, no time for cuddles, breaking traditions.

“Bring her back!” He whines childishly, hurling a pillow at his sister’s retreating back as they guide YN back to her own room.

“You’ll see her in a few hours!” Gemma shouts back before slamming the hotel room door and leaving Harry to doze off for just a few more minutes.

-

Hair and makeup went fast. 

It was getting closer and closer to actually walking down the aisle towards her soon-to-be life partner and she’s never felt more nervous.

Rosemary and Bethany were all rushing around - attempting to get ready in the midst of getting the bride ready.

YN didn’t want to look like a doll or have any intense makeup. It was a soft champagne smokey eye with dewy skin and a glowing highlight. A nice lip with a bit of glittering gloss.

Her hair was in big, loose curls that cascaded down her back with the front pulled off of her face. A real white flower holding it back.

Then it was the dress. She was anxious about whether Harry would like it or not. She wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to wear - a massive ball gown, a form-fitting mermaid, or something less over-the-top?

It was a show-stopper that had her memorized when she had first seen it - could automatically imagined herself getting married in Italy with this on her body.

It was also one of the only times she didn’t even care about the price tag - she knew this was it. Yes, it was absurd to spend fifty thousand pounds on a dress but it was the one time she took advantage of Harry’s wealth.

It was flowy, reminding her of the soft waves that lapped at the coast of the italian beaches. It was sophisticated, classy with a sharp starch white that billowed into a dreamlike beauty.

What had made her fall in love was the sheer, detailed sleeves that gave the dress more of a vintage, glamour appearance than the modern tight-fit, overly sexy gowns that most brides wore nowawadays. ***

The train was long and sleek. It would trail beautifully down the aisle before being bustled for the reception. It made her feel confident in a way that an item of clothing next had made her feel before.

“Your tits look amazing,” Bethany compliments before giggling when their grandmum pinches her arm for her crude language.

YN couldn’t find it in her to laugh. She felt like her voice was stuck in her throat and it wasn’t moving. 

It started to feel real.

The fact that Harry had proposed, had planned a wedding with her, that he was agreeing to marrying her today.

It was starting to scare her - no, not cold feet but anxiety that he would realize that he could do better than the lowly waitress.

Now, on a normal day, she wouldn’t be having these irrational thoughts. Today was different and it felt too good to be true.

Rosemary and Bethany sense the tension in the room, rub her shoulders, and respect her wishes when she asked for a moment alone.

YN debates picking up her phone, knowing he was busy with his bigger side of the family in the groom’s suite.

She finds herself picking up her mobile, dialing his number, and waiting with bated breath for his syrupy, warm voice to pour through the speaker.

“Everythin’ okay?” He answers, she can hear Anne and Gemma tittering about in the background, yelling at him to get a move on.

“I’m scared,” YN whispers, she holds back her tears because the last thing she wanted to do was ruin her meticulous makeup.

“Leavin’ me at the altar?” Harry jokes lowly, stepping away from prying ears.

YN giggles at his teasing tone, “Never. I…I feel like this is all too good to be true. Like it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up.”

Harry huffs, “Sweetheart. Y’my soulmate, if y’wake up - I’m right there with you, okay? God, if anyone is dreamin’ it’s me. I get t’marry the most beautiful, intelligent -“

Gemma’s voice interrupts him, “You already seduced her into marrying you! We don’t have time for this sweet talk!”

The line goes dead but YN feels much better now.

—

Rosemary was going to be the one walking her down the aisle to her new husband. It didn’t feel right to have anyone else do it as she was the one who raised her into the strong, independent woman she was today.

YN knew she wanted to have an outside wedding. 

What would be more perfect than a cool evening in Italy? It was what she had dreamed about since she was little without the idea that it would ever happen.

The weather was absolutely perfect. There was a slight warm breeze that would keep the guests from being overheated, the sun was peeking in and out of vibrant white clouds that complimented the blue sky.

She knew exactly where Harry would be standing. 

Underneath a beautiful, dated archway with intricate designs about. 

The old material had lovingly grown luscious ivy that kissed the walls in a swirling, natural design. 

YN would never forget how beautiful that ivy had looked on her wedding day, encompassing the magnificent that was her soon-to-be husband.***

The venue was open, airy but still gave off an intimacy. There weren't many rows of chairs because not many were invited to share in such an ethereal experience where soulmates have found each other and were announcing their commitment to the world.

“Are you ready, my daughter?” Her grandmother had asked quietly as they lined up behind the expansive, old brick wall that hides them from the rest of the ceremony and crowd. She could hear the whispering as people took their seats.

YN nods, her vocal cords refusing to cooperate as she imagines Harry just as nervous on the opposite side with his family. 

When the twinkling, traditional music begins from the small orchestra off to the side - the realization hits her - it is actually happening, right now.

Bethany puts her bouquet in front of her, giving one last meaningful smile at her sister before she takes her cue to turn the corner and begins her walk down the aisle. 

It meant Harry was up there, watching as she was about to appear.

Then the orchestra’s melody became louder, more grand in the signaling for the guests to stand and turned toward the back of the room - awaiting the bride’s entrance to the ceremony. 

Rosemary takes the initiative to hook their arms and guide her past the wall.

YN clutches onto her own flowers as if it’s her lifeline. ***

Every fear, insecurity, moment of self-doubt dissipates when her eyes connect to Harry’s. There is no longer a doubt in her mind that she wasn’t enough. It was a deep, unbreakable stare as Harry’s mouth parts in a gasp of awe.

He was in a suit that was undeniably him. It displayed how fucking regal he was, how it looked like he was handcrafted into the italian design, how it fit him just perfectly.

It wasn’t a normal tuxedo. It was a perfectly tailored, custom (of course) Gucci suit that excentuate his broad shoulders and the nip of his narrow hips *** ***. 

YN can’t even hear the noise of the guests - whispering about how beautiful she looks.

All she can see is her future husband, who swallows harshly as an unexpected sob wracks through his chest at the sight of his bride.

The guests can’t help but look with wide eyes as the man they know - who they’ve barely ever seen smile, let alone cry, cannot control his emotions.

Gemma, who was his ‘best man’ which they deemed ‘best woman’, rubs his back soothingly with a watery smile herself at seeing her brother so estastatic as he looks at the woman of his dreams.

Harry rubs his eyes before meeting hers again.

YN is holding back her own tears as she reaches the end of the aisle.

In tradition as old as time, Harry steps forward and Rosemary passes her hand over to him in a signal that she trusts him to take care of the girl she’s spent meticulous time raising and cultivating into the person she is today.

“I trust you to take care of my girl, she is now yours,” Rosemary tells Harry, her tone is calm and full of emotion as she allows Harry to lean over to kiss her cheek softly.

Harry nods, his usually stable voice shaky as he replies, “I promise, I’ll take care of her until the day I die.”

Rosemary nods before patting his cheek and finding her seat in the audience.

When they are finally standing face-to-face, YN reaches over to thumb off a stray tear that was sliding down his cheek before he turns his head to kiss her thumb then kissing her palm. 

Harry didn’t even acknowledge that there was anyone else watching - it was just him and her.

“Y’look breathtaking, can’t believe y’mine,” Harry murmurs trembling, his chest moving faster than usual and it felt like it was nearly impossible for him to catch his breath as he looked at the woman in front of him.

When it comes to the vows, Bethany hands over her small piece of paper that she had scribbled onto and scratched out multiple times - never quite able to get the wording just right and she says just that.

“I couldn’t find the right words to explain my love for you,” She starts, voice raspy as she looks up to see Harry watching her raptly, eyes intense and only focused on her.

“And maybe there aren’t even words to explain it because nothing felt like enough. It is how I feel a lot of the time with you. I’ll never have enough of you because you’re all-consuming to me. I have never felt happiness like I have with you.”

YN is trying to stifle her tears as she continues, Harry reaches out to rub her arm in reassurance then he lightly brushes over the new necklace he had gifted her, “You’re by far the most complex, closed-off person I have ever met. I feel like you’ve allowed me to crack the code and once I did, I wasn’t disappointed. I’ve cracked my own code, you see.”

“The code to explaining my feelings for you will come with my dedication, love, loyalty to be your wife for the rest of our lives.”

Harry can’t help what he does next despite it not falling in line at the ceremony.

His hands come up to cup her jaw and he sears his lips to hers, kissing her with all the passion and emotion he cannot seem to keep in any longer. It’s too much, has to show her in that moment how much he loves her.

A few of his uncles whistle from the crowd as their wives smack their chests in warning.

YN giggles, returning the kiss before pushing him off. 

The look in his eyes is one she knows extremely well - it sends shivers down her spine and makes her hair stand on end -, the stare down of lust and want.

“Mr. Styles,” The officiant redirects, nodding towards the piece of paper he has in his hand.

“Yeah, sorry,” Harry mumbles, unraveling the wrinkled notecard he had tucked in his inner suit pocket.

“I knew I was in love with you the moment you spilled that drink on me and undressed me in that dodgy employee bathroom,” Harry says with full sincerity, smirking at YN’s blush when he brings up the way they met.

“I tried to talk myself out of it. It was impossible to fall in love in mere minutes of meeting someone but it was the truth. I knew after our first date that I wanted y’to be m’wife. I knew after the second that I wanted y’to be the mother of my babies one day. And by the third date, I was planning on buying you a ring.”

“It sounds insane because it is. I’ve never been an impulsive, spur-of-the-moment, hopeful person before you. You made me throw all that out of the window, you make me feel alive, and when I tell you that you saved me. You saved me, m’love.”

“There is a lot of uncertainty in this world but I can tell you one thing that is absolutely fuckin’ certain -”

“Harry,” YN hisses with an eye-roll at his crude language.

“The one thing that is absolutely certain in this world is that I will always love you, always take care of you, and always do everythin’ in m’power to make you happy.”

The guests in the chairs are quite speechless. 

They’d never heard such passionate, meaningful vows from a couple. 

This was not what they were expecting of Harry who had never once put his heart on his sleeve and right now he’d laid it all out on the table.

--

“YN LN, do you agree to take Harry Edward Styles as your husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant asks, voice ringing against the walls of the castle.

YN has to take a big breath before she replies in a strong, firm voice as her eyes bore into Harry’s, “I do.”

“Harry Edward Styles, do you agree to take YN MN LN as your wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant repeats.

Harry, in ever typical fashion, in his loud, booming voice replies, “Of course I fuckin’ do.”

The guests in the audience laugh lightly as the officiant states, “I now announce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Styles. You may now kiss your bride.”

It doesn’t take more than a second for Harry to step forward, grip her face and pull her in for a kiss, it doesn’t matter that their family is there to him as he licks into her mouth which is bordering on obscene before YN brings it back to a softer, more appropriate one.

He whispers against his lips, barely audible, “Can’t believe y’my fucking wife, m’fucking heart.”

--

As people are moving towards the reception area, Harry manages to find a secluded area of the outside gardens where there is no one in sight.

“Baby, baby, y’married me,” Harry is nearly chanting, like he’s in disbelief, at the same time he’s cornering his new bride up against the brick wall with his mouth trailing sloppy wet kisses down her shoulder.

“Mmm, it was everything I ever imagined, it was so beautiful. Everything I had imagined for our day,” YN replies blissfully, hands running carefully through his meticulously styled hair.

When he bends down and lifts up the bottom of her dress, she giggles when he ducks his head underneath all the tulle and fabric, finding a very skimpy pair of white lace panties that are supposed to be saved for later.

“Harry,” YN scolds half-heartedly, it would only take one person to find them in this undeniable inappropriate situation but she willingly let him push her further against the brick and take one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Baby, these fuckin’ panties,” He groans, muffled by the barrier of the heavy fabric, and she hisses when pulls them down to the thick of her thighs and his mouths finds her center within moments.

“Fu-fuck,” She hisses, trying to keep her moans down as he wastes no time in pushing in two thick fingers to curve towards her front as his tongue laps quickly and sloppily on her clit until it feels like she’s about to explode.

“S’right, fuckin’ m’cunt. I have it f’the rest of my life, found the best one,” Harry mutters against her wet skin, almost to himself like he can’t even believe the words, before he’s back to speeding up his fingers to match the rhythm of his mouth until she’s quivering for a whole other reason now.

It takes a few minutes for Harry to calm himself down enough to be able to go into the reception, he tells YN that he can’t even look at her right now because if he does he’ll be perpetually hard throughout the whole thing.

--

The reception is more of a dinner than a party. 

Fairy lights strung above the two long tables where decadent, mouth-watering food was served with the orchestra playing light, melodic music in the background. ***

It was perfect. 

Their family drank, laughed, ate, and were merry. 

Everyone was basking in each other’s company, congratulating the new couple, and enjoying all the beauty that was surrounding them at the castle. 

There is not much more to say than that. 

--

The honeymoon suite was located on one of the highest floors of the castle, away from all of the other wedding guests and staff.

YN was sure it was beautiful but from the moment she was carried over the threshold, she didn’t see anything but her new husband - he was blinding in his beauty. His skin was glowing, a slight sheen of sweat from the reception, and the still warm bite in the breeze. ***

“Sweetheart, baby. Please let m’undress you, y’my wife,” Harry pleas softly, his hands are everywhere - her face, her shoulders, hips - continuously wandering as if it’s impossible to find one place to settle.

“Please, c’mon. I need you, H,” She agrees, letting him take down the zipper on the side of her gown.

The expensive garment discarded on the floor in a pool of fabric as he fully takes in her lingerie set. ***

“Fuck me, darlin’,” Harry chuckles in amazement, fingertips tracing over the delicate lace that was stitched by Alessandro Michele himself for the bride, "Y’body is a god damn dream, look at you. - fuck.”

“Please,” His wife whimpers, voice desperate as his light and careful touches are no longer enough. 

She needs him close, she needs her husband.

“Okay, okay,” He simpers, moving her back until he can have her right where he wants her, on her back in the middle of the massive, blanket-ridden bed - her white lingerie standing out against the dark duvet.

Harry had always imagined this night. 

To have someone laid out underneath him. 

No rush, no urgency but to truly, physically show that person through touch that you love them.

He starts near her collarbone, feathery heated kisses that warm her skin as she welcomes him with heavy weight on top of her so eager he wasn’t even undressed yet.

When his mouth finds her nipples through the sheer fabric, she pushes her chest up in encouragement as he bites at the nubs with sharp but careful teeth that wet the fabric.

“It feels so good, baby,” YN mewls, letting him nip and suck for a moment before pushing him up until he’s rid of every inch of fabric that had been covering his body.

“M’always gonna make y’feel good. I’ll fuck you wherever, wehenver cause you’re m’wife,” Harry grunts, impatiently reaching behind to unclasp the corset until her breasts spill free and jiggle in a way that makes his mouth water.

“Wait, wait,” YN puts a hand to his cheek when he already has his mouth darting out to lap at her hardened nipple.

“Don’t make me wait, m’heart,” Harry grumbles with a furrowed brow, his hand still unable to stop from reaching up to palm at her full breasts, thumbs rolling the nipples as he stares fiercely up at her.

“You know how you got me a present?” YN murmurs, biting back a whimper when a zip of electricity shoots from her nipple down to where she’s already dripping for him, “I got you something too.”

Harry’s face relaxes, it’s like he finds his grounding again, “Baby, didn’t need t’get me anythin’. Y’the best fuckin’ gift I could have gotten. Does look beautiful sittin’ between y’tits though.”

His new wife giggles, “Well I really hope you like mine….it’s non-refundable.”

He looks at her with confusion even more so when she wriggles down her panties and flips on her belly with her arms resting under chin.

Of course, Harry finds it immediately and she can tell by the deep, pleased growl he emits from the back of his throat, “You fuckin’ didn’t.”

“I did.”

It was his name, small and cursive right on her bum cheek. 

After they got engaged, he went out and got her name tattooed on his pec - much to her dismay. 

She had never talked about returning the favor and had kept it the ultimate surprise.

“I think I almost just came from this,” Harry rasps, his fingers tracing the small ink over and over in awe, “Baby, y’put m’name on your bum. It makes y’look like my property, sweetheart.”

“I am yours,” YN giggles, yelping when she feels his teeth graze the sensitive skin before he’s suckling and licking at his name - can’t take his eyes off the beauty of her.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are,” He agrees whole-heartedly, his hands calming to cup and palm at her cheeks as he fawns over his wedding present, “This is the best present I’d ever fuckin’ received, fuck - never goin’ to get over this.”

He doesn’t want to look away from the tattoo but knows how he wants to fuck his wife for the first time so he flips her onto her back once again, lips finding hers. 

She whispers, hand wrapping around his cock, “Still have to pay you back for earlier.”

“No blowies tonight, pet. We’re goin’ to do it the right way, m’gonna make love to you,” Harry murmurs, his lips finding hers as he bats her hand away to grasp at his thick base. He teases the sensitive head over her clit and entrance a few times before slowly sinking in.

“Ohh, been ready for you all day. You looked like a fucking wet dream standing at the alter, waiting for me,” YN sighs happily, wriggling her hips to adjust a bit before she spreads her legs and lets Harry rest in between them, “Ever since I saw you in the suit, I’ve been waiting.”

“Yeah, baby? I can tell, y’so wet, warm f’me,” Harry praises, his movements are slow and unrushed, their hips meeting gently as he pushes in each time with care, “Can’t believe y’gonna let me have this for the rest of m’life.”

“I love you so so much,” She utters breathlessly as he continues to make her feel so fucking full - emotionally and physically, “Best husband ever, can’t believe it.”

Harry chuckles tenderly, “Baby, I need y’to come soon. I’m so close, never come this quick. The thought of y’being my wife is making it impossible to last then with the tatto-”

YN soothes his hair in understanding, pushing up to meet their lips and allow their tongues to dance as he lifts her thigh against his hip to thrust in with a bit more force. His thumb comes to her clit to spur her along which doesn’t take much with how aroused she’s been all day.

Harry follows right after, much to his embarrassment of his lack of stamina but can you blame him? He has the hottest fucking wife on the planet.

“Round two?” YN smirks as he leans down to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. She knows the night has just begun.

“Mmm,” He agrees instantly, “Now that we made love, m’gonna fuck y’from behind so I can watch my name jiggle on your arse.”

And that’s what he does. It takes nearly no rebound time, flips her on her belly again to gaze and worship his name as he fills out in no time again. His fingers occasionally dip back between her thighs to tease at her entrance before he swipes her own wetness on the tattoo to lick it off.

She’s tired, exhausted from the events of the day but wants to reach that last orgasm before sleep overtakes them. 

On her hands and knees, Harry doesn’t pound into her like he normally would. 

Instead, he eases back in with eyes darting between his wedding present and where they’re connecting, his thumb diligently rubbing hard and steady circle on her nerves.

“C’mon wifey, need y’to not be stubborn,” Harry goads, feeling his release coming again - he pinches her clit with just enough pressure that has her whining before Harry has to hold her up by the waist as she quivers.

It has him finishing right after with a gentle smack to her bumcheek, the skin already tender and sore from all of his attention on the spot as it was.

“I loved your vows,” YN murmurs against his chest. He had wrapped her up in one of the plush blankets and he had pulled on a tight pair of briefs and they were laying on a lounge chair on the blacony under the italian stars.

“I loved yours just as much, y’did crack the code m’love ‘cause now I’m yours forever,” Harry rumbles, his voice raspy with drowsiness.

Little did they know that in a few short years, they would be back under these italian stars with knowledge that they were growing a little product of their love in her belly.

A litte baby named Ivy, just like the beautiful, lucious nature that had decorated the place in magneificent as they spoke vows - dedicating their lives to each other.

if you’ve ask to be on my taglist and you’re not here - please check your settings because i’ve tried to add you and it didn’t work.

taglist babies (thank you): @dioc4ne @hazgoldenstyles @harrysdimple05 @wonwooen @ficnarry @leeroysdancer @harrysloveheart @harryscherrysugar @pradastardust @rish-haz @wildcstdrexms @evanstylestan @wisetoadbonkbiscuit @meredithhuntt @tpwkvictoria @lovely-him @haymix @eiffelmezarry @pilgrim-harry @soullessbabee @afterglowstyles @tulsasjesus @elenagilbert01 @meh–mood @pretty-pop-princess-hs @msolbesg @localfalsegodstan @evanjh @i-just-like-fanfics @harrys-hs-gf @lightsupdoyouknowwhoyouare @afterglcwswift @harrystyles-tpwk @amyvandijk @godilovetheenglishx @harrys-cherrry @theprofessionalfanby @your–sweetest–downfall @la-cey @bdbtchdir @killerqueencapstan @elizabeth23567 @camflowervol6 @its-a-finee-line @rish-haz @solonelytobe @nav1234 @harrynamjoon @hopefullimaginer123 @westallenhes @awesomebooklover17 @will-be-a-fineline @vasilikir5 @your–sweetest–downfall @pretty-pop-princess-hs @harrynamjoon @harrypinks @ivyirenehoax @harryspink @sunsetcurve-h @goldenstylesh @mouthfulloftoothpastehs @hello-34583 @prettylovley @nicolecarsley @lamariettes @imavirginhoe @unknown7549 @mellamolayla @kiwitsayedsugar @hopefullimaginer123 @harrysmatcha @weaslettesstuff @saintsmotels @hi-yekaterina @aubreyfineline @harrysgoldenbum @ebstylesx @goldeng1rl8 @tnqueen @percysaidnever @bebecalpal

[inkdemon-whore]

✦—uwu new pinned—✦

【archives: C.O.R.E. | 2016-'18 | 2018-'20】

tumblr b-day: february 20th, 2016 January 14th, 2016

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al/alta/alex | 23 | he/him | aspec

fandom hopper | proship | atheistic satanist

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╔═⋆promo section⋆═╗

i’m usin the old post format, so this isn’t really working, but here’s my tgftos fanfic “mo chroí” on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39564708?view_full_work=true

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doin commissions, click here for the post!

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you can also just throw money at me for a cosplay i’m working on. any money i get will be payed as a group/pitch in commission. you can pay $1, $5, $50, whatever you want, so long as the $100 goal is met. when the goal is met, i’ll draw a commission level piece as a thank you to everyone that donated! this goal is set for mid september, and if it isn’t met, i’ll just draw a smaller, less impressive thank you to those who donated

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i'm multi fandom and kinda hyper fixate on one or more for a period of time. here's some fandoms i'm in/i've drawn stuff for:

pokemon ✒

undertale/deltarune ✒

BATIM ✒

steven universe ✒

dream smp ✒

hermitcraft

fnaf ✒

fnf ✒

ddlc

OFF by mortil ghost

yume niki

centaurworld ✒

encanto ✒

the girl from the other side ✒

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AUs/tags ya'll can have cuz i probably won't draw more content for them: player!spamton/darkener!kris (aka tag au), sitting ducks DSMP au/🐷🤝🦆

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blog contains casual swearing, artistic and/or suggested nudity, and maybe sexual jokes. my best assumption of my audience age range is 15 to 30-ish. blog also has some pro-ship stuff. i don't tag swearing or capslock.

here's a blacklist for your filtering needs (it's in account settings [zendesk help], or use tumblr savior [chrome / firefox] or xkit [chrome / firefox]):

★ ya should | ✦ ya could | 〇 if ya wanna

★ NSFW - for text and sometimes added with the tw nudity tag

★ nude - can also include censored/suggested nudity

★ tw ship - for explicitly shippy stuff like brumira or techno and quackity smoochin

✦ ship suggestive - for joke ships, or up in the air shippy vibes. it depends on context and your own view of the art

〇 qpr - queerplatonic relationship

✦ rpf - real people/person fiction, like shipping content creators rather than their smp characters (i don't think i'll ever use this cuz i don't make that stuff, but ya never know)

〇 #🐷🤝🦆 - a qpr qacknobros au tag, adding here because there’s too many to go through and add #qpr to. all of it’s qpr unless tagged with “tw ship”, which is like, one

✦ discourse - there’s not a lot, but it’s a tag if ya need it. it’s mostly if i’m talkin about somethin i’m seein on my dash

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ask and submissions are always open. :P

please, if you like my art, reblog it.

you can use my art as icons, just put "icon by @altadoodler" somewhere visible, like your blog description.

you can also use my art as inspo for fanfiction and fanart! feel free to @ me if ya do so. here's my Ao3 if ya wanna send/gift me fanfics (https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALtaDoodler)

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if i’m on your DNI, just block me. that’s arguably better than me unfollowing you, especially if i’m reblogging your post and you see me in your notes. cuz if i unfollow, i’ll completely forget, probably see your stuff again, and follow again. my memory is trash, just block me so i can’t interact.

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this post will be edited as needed.

a bunch of other stuff, like links n whatnot, that i'm puttin under the cut as to not fill up ppls dash, or mobile viewing of my blog. there's also a lil meet the artist under there that i drew up in like, 20 min, because i realized i haven't done one of those, and it also feels like a good ref for my sona

(tumblrs post beta post editor is fucked rn, i might re-post/re-edit this when it’s not trash, i just wanted to add some stuff while i was thinkin about it)

Dream SMP boundaries carrd: alldreamsmp.carrd.co

Dream SMP boundaries blog: smp-boundaries

My pro-ship answers: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] tl;dr, it's just art, fiction =/= reality, i do not support irl incest/pedophilia, i should have said something sooner but past events made me want to not say anything about it. i'm willing to have a civil discussion about any further questions ya might have, but don't come into my ask with a "kys", hamster murder story, or anything worse.

don't show content creators my ship art of them :/...

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a carrd i found for pro-ship info: https://learnaboutproshipping.carrd.co

post about proship and purity culture: https://fandomeldersintheirthirties.tumblr.com/post/687012217015730176/demongender-vibes-fozmeadows-star-anise-foz

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other blogs i've made/am a part of that have 0 updates, but still exist:

https://knutmeg-aesthetics.tumblr.com

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/800plus-pkmn-propaganda

https://honest-undertale-confessions.tumblr.com

[truthteller-lumen]

Nox (cynicallyinkless, fiveminutemeal, lorimer-no, etc) is an internet predator, a scammer, and a chronic liar. Here’s what you need to know.

He always made it seem like I had a choice and free will but... he manipulated me so bad that leaving wasn’t an option because I felt so bad for him. It’s so insidious. - one of Nox’s many ex-partners

Nox (Noximillian, Noxim Raven, Cynicallyinkless, @SirAlthair, @SirAlthairx,  fiveminutemeal, onehalfdime, lorimer-no) is an internet predator.

He has pursued teenagers and young women nearly 10 years his junior. He is 32 and his latest partner was 19.

He has emotionally abused his numerous partners via gaslighting, emotionally manipulative language, and negging, as well as other abusive tactics.

He has cheated on his partners with multiple other women_. _Though he claims to be in happily polyamorous relationships, many of the partners he was dating were not happy about the situation. He often kept the truth about his other partners from them.

He has lied about his entire identity to his partners, up to and including faking his own voice and sending pictures and nudes that were not of him. He also lied about other details of his life, such as his family structure (claiming his mother was dead and that he had adopted a daughter) and his educational status (claiming he had finished his degree), which leads to: 

He has accepted nearly $3500 from his friends in order to fund his education, then did not finish his degree. What the money was used for is unclear, but he took multiple expensive trips with his friends after receiving the cash.

Be aware. Know the facts. Protect yourself. If you’re in a relationship like this, seek help immediately. If you see the warning signs of a relationship like this, get out as fast as you can.

More information is below the cut.

Nox’s accounts and handles are listed at the bottom of the article. Want more details? Read on.

There was one girl, first. Then more, younger and younger. More trusting, more accepting, more susceptible to his abuse. He had them compete for his attention, let them fight among themselves. And he lied to them, over and over again. He let them throw their whole lives away, their finances, their hearts, for someone who didn’t really exist.

This is a story of abuse, lies, and manipulation. This is a story that we never want to see repeated again.

Names have been censored. Labels may not be consistent between conversations to protect the identities of those speaking.

---

Nox met us when we were all teenagers. Young adults. - one of Nox’s many ex-partners

Nox has pursued girls over 10 years his junior.

Over the years, the ages of the partners Nox has taken has trended downwards dramatically. When the people his age began to reject him for his behavior, he wandered until he found a group he was accepted by.

First, she was 28. Then, 22. Then, 19. And that’s not even the complete list. 

Though she was 13 years his junior, Nox would often talk to his youngest partner in disturbing ways, including the topic of pregnancy, to the point where she had already rewritten her entire life plan after college just to accommodate having a child with him.

Even those who were not romantically involved with him were subject to sexual talk, including minors:

He cased these girls. He approached the most vulnerable, easily isolated ones.

He went after me after prodding around and kinda guessing I wasn't too close with people that didn't like him. - one of Nox’s many ex-partners

These girls were not only subject to romantic advances, but gaslighting, abuse, and controlling behavior, as well.

---

If I did anything he didn’t like or if I offered that I didn’t like something, he would just stop communicating and talking to me for days on end. - one of Nox’s many ex-partners

Nox has emotionally abused his partners.

The common thread in the swathe of abuse he has cut over the past 10+ years is control. Don’t drink, he’d say. Don’t cut your hair. Don’t leave me, or I’ll kill myself. Every action he’d take - from punishing his partners with the silent treatment to ranting and raving at them when something didn’t go his way - was taken with the intent to control their actions.

Below is an account from his longest partner of 9 years.

After breaking up with this partner, he posted to Tumblr, implying that they were the one who had broken up with him:

But the breakup was anything but shitty. In fact, he was the one who had initiated it:

A benign breakup, initiated by him, over increasing distance.

His posts on Tumblr were no more than sharpened knives, directed at his ex of 9 years. Look at how much you’ve hurt me. Look, this is all your fault.

At the time he posted these posts, he had already been dating his 19-year-old partner for several months.

Not even his youngest partners were safe from his controlling behavior.

He used them against each other:

He isolated them from their real-world communities:

He isolated them from online friends whom he knew would expose his abuse for what it was:

And he tried to control what they did in their free time:

He would fly off the rails if he thought they disobeyed him, in this case for drinking when he didn’t want them to:

And if he didn’t get his way, he would threaten suicide:

---

He said he was poly... but he couldn’t tell his other girlfriends about me yet. Not until we were fully fully official... I didn’t know when he could say we were official, though. So I believed him about it. Only then I realized that he was hiding me from his other flings and partners. - one of Nox’s many ex-partners

Nox has cheated on his partners.

He justifies it under the guise of polyamory. The girls, a decade his junior, would often be led to believe that they were the most special girlfriend, and he made no attempt to communicate otherwise. Despite this, he would often claim that he was “single” while telling his younger flings that they were still dating.

His ex of 9 years didn’t know about any of these girls. He never told her.

---

The way he talks is so smooth and persuasive, it's so easy to be manipulated. I’m just crying so hard because it was a lie. I gave myself up to a liar and a fraud and my heart can't accept it yet. - one of Nox’s many ex-partners

Nox lied about his entire identity to his partners and friends. He is a chronic liar.

To his close friends, his mother was dead, and he’d adopted a daughter. His family had abandoned him, he was living alone, and he needed help financially. These were all things they were told, and they believed him.

His mother is alive. There is no daughter. He lives with his family.

Fake dead mom.

Fake adopted daughter.

To his partners, he portrayed himself as a charming, handsome man. He sent nudes that were not his own. The selfies he sent didn’t match up with his real life appearance. He used a voice modulator to fool them into thinking he was someone he wasn’t. His web of lies is so deep that no one is sure what the truth is.

He pretended to be a cis man to his partner, and made sexual advances on her without disclosing otherwise. He is not a cis man, and the terms of his partner’s consent were violated.

The explicit picture he sent to her to further the lie of being a cis man was pulled from PornHub.

No one is really sure who the person in his selfies is.

He used a voice modulator to pretend he was someone he was not. (Full disclosure: getting closer to being someone you’re comfortable with is totally fine, and if using a voice modulator does that for you, then go for it. The chronic lying to partners that deserved full disclosure before intimacy is the issue here.)

He kept everything from his partners.

---

He mostly came to me for money because I helped pay his tuition for 3 years on my own. Thinking that I was helping to support him when his family wouldn’t... But turns out I was just being used. - one of Nox’s ex-friends

Nox accepted a large sum of money from his friends in goodwill to pay for his tuition. It’s unclear where the money went.

He lied to them, saying that his family had abandoned him and that he was living alone, unable to pay for his tuition. Despite struggling financially themselves, his friend and ex contributed $3500 to his education.

First, his friend contributed nearly a grand to his education while living on minimum wage.

Then, his ex contributed a whopping 2.4 grand.

He accepted this money happily, and recently informed the first friend, who had not kept up with him in a while, that he had graduated medical school.

But other friends with more recent experience thought otherwise. Below is a quote from yet another ex who knew him closely and recently.

And very recently, he contacted his ex of 9 years - the one who had contributed 2.4 grand - to tell her that he had not, in fact, used the money towards his schooling, or finished his schooling at all. He lied.

A poor, ailing young brother who needed money for his future. He spun his use of their generous aid as a good deed.

But was it even used that way at all?

He would often go on lavish and expensive trips with one of his younger partners at the same time that he was receiving money from his friends. Below is a receipt from a trip he took together with that partner, correlated with the timing of the money he received.

This happened while he was still dating the first ex who had donated 2.4 grand to his tuition. 

If he was strapped for money, why was he taking expensive trips with his side flings? If he needed to fund his brother’s future, why was he paying for lavish accommodations for him and his friends?

And why was he buying expensive gifts for them, too? Below is a quote from another younger partner (different from the one above).

_

If even one more girl reads this and realizes she’s in danger, then it was worth it. - an anonymous contributor

Know what abuse looks like. It could happen to you.

If your relationship looks even remotely like this, heavily consider whether or not you feel happy being there. If you’re working to escape a relationship like this, we see you. We believe in you.

If you are in a relationship with Nox and want to seek help, or have an experience you want to share, our ask box is open. Your personal information will not be published.

The following are some resources on what abuse looks like and how to escape it:

What are the signs of emotional abuse?

5 signs of emotional abuse

5 ways to escape an abusive relationship

Be wary of who you speak to online. There are more people like this out there. It is not a crime to be loving, trustful and kind, but it is unforgivable for someone to abuse that trust, to lie and to manipulate their way into receiving kindness.

And all abusers get their due. Nox, this is yours.

Get some fucking help. Stop abusing young women.

---

Nox’s handles and accounts

Nox has been known as:

Nox, Noximillian, Noxim Raven, Cynicallyinkless, @SirAlthair, @SirAlthairx,  fiveminutemeal, onehalfdime, lorimer-no

On the online game Final Fantasy XIV, he is Balthier Strahll on Mateus at the time of writing. His character ID is 20282710. He is active in the RP community on Crystal datacenter and frequents player-run RP establishments such as “The Gilded Knob” on Malboro.

This blog will be updated with any other handles or accounts as they become known to us. Have an account that isn’t listed here? Send us a message.

[robert-de-niro-only-fans]

Pay Day

Robert De Niro x Cam Girl!Reader

Author's note: Just a smutty little good time for everyone to enjoy while I whittle away at this very long Sam Rothstein fic!

TW: smut, age gap, cam girl, sex toys

Word Count: 1.8k

You've been working this job as a cam girl for a little while now, and you'd been very lucky that your page took off. It gave you enough money to pay the bills and invest some into the job, buying outfits and decorations for your bedroom.

In the past week or so, you'd gotten a new subscriber, one who simply 𝘩𝘢𝘥 to see all of your content. He's paid for everything you have available on your page, and he even sent you a message telling you how beautiful you are and that he is excited for your next livestream. You reply back with a few nudes that you only send to big spenders and an "XOXO! 💋"

That night during your livestream, the tips start rolling in from all kinds of guys and maybe even some girls. You take notice each time "TheRagingBull" drops a nice stack of coin on you; he's giving up enough to pay your rent in one night.

Later that evening, you bounce up and down on a vibrating dildo suction cupped to the floor that that the audience can control with their donations, and a huge donation of $2500 comes across the screen with a message from this new viewer that reads: "i have to have you, angel! i have to have you!" The vibrator inside you goes crazy; you can hardly think as you try to process a tip this big while you reach your orgasm!

After the steam ends, you typically take time to message the big spenders or regulars that support you, so you send a message to the guy with the big wallet, "Thank you so much for your generous donation, baby! Please let me know if there's anything I can do for you 😘 maybe a certain outfit you'd like me to wear or a special video just for you. Lots of love! XOXO"

Within a few minutes, you receive a reply, "how about a private session? i'd like to see you one on one and be able to talk with you"

You pause to think about it. You'd never done anything like this before with one of your viewers, but he paid you so much. You know there are girls who make much more than that, but this is big for you-

Another message: "i'll pay for it, $5000 an hour, your time is valuable ❤️"

You immediately reply back, sorting out the details of this video call.

• • •

You're nervous about the video call. He had told you it was really important that he keep his anonymity from everyone; you can't tell anyone who he is. You had no idea what you're getting into.

You're all dressed up in a nice silk dress with some simple lingerie underneath like he asked, when you get the call. You take a deep breath and answer, your jaw nearly hitting the floor when you see Robert De Niro on the screen in front of you. You could tell he was nervous: he's a suit and tie, wanting to dress up for you, and he has a nice red blush on his cheeks as he wrings his hands together.

"You're joking, right? You've got to be an impersonator or something," you joke with a breathy laugh.

"No, no, it's really me," he chuckled.

"Well... it's nice to meet you, Robert."

"It's nice to meet you too, (Y/N). You look stunning."

It almost feels like a date at first, the way you're both so shy and nervous, but things loosen up the more you slip out of your clothes for him and he showers you in compliments. Eventually it leads to you touching yourself for him, using any you get asks for.

"Um, would it be inappropriate if I... played with myself as well?" he asks you. He's probably the only person who could still be a gentleman when asking a question like that, and because of it, you tell him he should go ahead.

Below the camera, he slides his pants off and immediately starts stroking himself, letting out a few little moans of relief; he must have already been hard at the sight of you.

Throughout your session, he removes his jacket and tie, leaving just his button up shirt on, unbuttoned a little bit.

"You don't wanna get naked for me, Bobby? Are you a little bit shy?" you tease at him.

He simply blushes at you and glances away, but not for long, because he can't keep his eyes off of you. The way he doesn't say anything tells you he's close.

"Bobby, honey, cum for me. Cum for me, baby," you coo for him.

Within seconds, he furrows his eyebrows and starts letting out short deep breaths. You see his seed spill up onto his shirt, covering his tummy and chest. He quickly grabs a napkin to clean up his mess once he comes down from his high.

• • •

Over the next few weeks, you have a few more of these sessions wherever Robert has time, and before long he's asking you to come to dinner with him.

"I'll buy you new clothes, dresses, lingerie. I'll cover your dinner. And then... I'd like to pay you to come back to my place."

You almost can't believe what you're hearing, but it makes sense. It seems you two had grown to like each other, maybe not romantically, but sexually. That's all Robert is looking for, and besides, the money is really nice.

And so you meet him for dinner. He's such a gentleman, but there's also a lot of sexual tension between the two of you. The way he keeps stroking your thighs and teasing at the ties on your dress tells you he can't wait to get you home.

After a tasty dinner and a few glasses of champagne, you can hardly keep your hands off of one another, so he quickly whisks you out to the car to get you home.

Stumbling out of the car and up to his apartment, making out the whole time, you barely make it to his room with all your clothes still on. Your body hits his bed with all the ties on your dress undone and the fabric barely hanging on to you.

Robert takes off his suit jacket, hooking it on the back of a chair. He kicks off his shoes and unties his tie, which you reach out for.

"You want this?" he holds up the tie.

"Yes," you giggle, crossing your thighs a little to tease him.

He hands you the tie, and works on getting the rest of his clothes off. You jump up and get on your knees, sitting on your feet on his bed. You put his tie around your neck and hold your dress to your chest so it doesn't fall off, while you enjoy the show. Robert looks very good taking his clothes off slowly, sensually.

He sits on the bed next to you in his underwear, beginnings of a hard on present underneath the fabric there. He kisses you gently and asks, "Is it okay if I take this off?" He gestures to your dress.

"Yes, you can take my dress off, honey."

He slowly slides your dress down and gets you to stand up so he can slide it past your hips to the floor. You straddle his lap, wearing your sexy black matching underwear and his tie. The man beneath you kisses your chest and lips, while he ties the tie properly around your neck.

"Wow, I'm like a real gentleman now!" You both share a laugh at your remark.

"You look sexy, baby. I like the tie on you," he says as you cup his head in your hands.

"Mm, thank you," you say, pushing him back on the bed, hovering over him, kissing him.

After some giggling and kissing, there's a quiet pause between the two of you.

"Let me make love to you, (Y/N)."

"Okay... But you told me this isn't about love, Robert."

"Well, what if I told you it's about making you feel good? Making you feel good on my dick, the way you felt good on that vibrator the first time I watched you live streaming."

Hearing him talk dirty like this turns you on... a lot. "I think I could work with that," you whisper to him.

With that, he's flipping you over and tearing off your bra and panties, quite literally.

"Oh, but I liked those!" you complain.

"I'll buy you more, princess," he says before attacking your lips with kisses. He kicks his underwear off and within minutes you're deep in the throes of passion as he thrusts into you. Despite being an older guy, his skills are still very much in tact.

"You're so beautiful. You feel so good, baby; I've wanted you so bad for so long," he breathes out in between hip movements.

You plant a few kisses on his lips and cheeks, "Robert, stop baby."

"You okay? Did I hurt you?"

"No, sweet man, you didn't hurt me," you flip him over and straddle him, "you told me you wanted me to feel good on you the way I felt good on that vibrator, so... I should ride you."

"Oh, well I'm not gonna argue with that," he says, taking your hands and intertwining his fingers with yours. You bounce up and down pleasing yourself on his hardness, and that seems to please him as well.

Your night is filled with lots of passion and pleasant feelings. You make Robert feel youthful; Robert showers you in money and gifts; and you both make each other feel desirable and even a little bit loved.

• • •

Months go by, and you and Robert become a regular thing. You both live your own lives, but you turn to each other for the things you need from one another, and Robert makes for an excellent Sugar Daddy.

"What about this one, sweetie? Do you think it's as pretty as the other one?" You're on a video call with him, trying on several sets of lingerie he had mailed to you.

"You make everything look pretty, angel," he smiles at you.

You stop and make a pouty face at him.

"What? Did I say something wrong?" he asks concerned.

"No..." you whine.

"What is it, then?"

"It's just- you should be home right now so you can be with me instead of filming some dumb movie," you complain to him, being needy.

“Well, princess, this ‘dumb movie’ is gonna put more money in Daddy's bank account, so he can keep buying you more of those little -ahem- 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘧𝘪𝘵𝘴 you’re wearing right now." He gives his classic little mischievous smirk.

You pause for a long time before saying, "So?!"

He chuckles at your cute response.

"I'm still gonna miss you while you gone," you say quietly.

"I know, honey bee, I know."

[trutimeline]

idislikecispeople, The Most Infamous Dyscourse Blogger: Part 1.0, Rumors

idislikecispeople, also known as many names throughout her time on Tumblr (such as Adele, Kat, Mami, Samantha and Sayaka), was a former Tumblr blogger who became infamous for coining the term "tucute", among many other controversial things she has posted on her blogs. This was supposed to be one, very long masterpost about her, but Tumblr's post editor is a bitch and won't let me do that.

In this post, I'll be debunking or confirming rumors commonly spread about idislikecispeople. The rest of my posts about her will each be dedicated to a specific controversial belief she held or situations she got into. For simplicity's sake, I'll be referring to idislikecispeople as Kat for the rest of this post and future ones.

Rumors

Kat Coined the Terms "Truscum" and "Tucute"

Verdict: Partially True

Kat coined the term tucute, but she did not coin the terms truscum or transmedicalist.

Here's a screenshot of Kat's original definition of a tucute:

Transcript:

What is Tucute?

What does tucute mean?

Tucute is basically just the opposite of truscum, it’s a term and community for trans, nonbinary, and/or non-cis individuals created to separate anti-truscum from truscum and to serve as a safe place from truscum and from cis people, where they believe that being trans requires dysphoria, we do not,where they think that being trans is a medical condition, we do not,and where they deny numerous gender identities on the basis that it “discredits the trans community” we do not.

What are the prerequisites to be a part of the tucute community?

You have to be trans, nonbinary, and/or non-cis in general

You have to accept all pronouns and gender identities

You haveto believe that dysphoria is not necessary to be trans

You have to dislike truscum

You cannot side with truscum or believe in their ideology

You cannot misgender anyone no matter how mad they make you

You cannot be an ableist whatsoever

Did you invent the tucute community? Why?

I indeed did coin the tucute term and community and anyone who says otherwise are creeps who are trying to steal it from me and redefine it for their own nefarious doings. I started this community so anti-truscum could separate themselves from truscum and cis people who are a part of the truscum community, it serves as a safe space from both truscum and cis people.

I’m cis, can I be tucute if I believe in your movement and want to help?

No, you can’t be tucute if you’re cis, you can only be a tucute ally, and you need to be sure to never speak for or over a trans person.

I see a lot of tucuties being just as harmful as truscum, what will you do about it?

There isn’t much I can do to them other than ask them to stop aligning with the tucute community, and of course, that doesn’t mean they will. Also be noted that truscum and cis people will pretend to be tucute just to tarnish the name of the tucute community, so tread lightly, you might be talking to a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Spread the word, use the tag #tucute and join the army today!

[A digital drawing of Sayaka Miki from Puella Magi Madoka Magica in her magical girl form, with a banner underneath her reading "Tucute 4 U!"]

(source) (source)

Kat Was a Cisgender Woman Who Lied About Being a Transgender Woman

Verdict: False

This rumor primarily comes from a post on Kat's oldest known Tumblr blog, chromaghost, where she claims that she wasn't MTF and only tagged a selfie as such because she thought that transgender people were "cool".

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: are you a mtf? i seen it tagged on one of your photos.

No lol. I wanted to post it to the tag because transgender people are cool :3

(source) (source) (source)

However, Kat addressed this post and made it clear she very much was a transgender woman multiple times on her later blogs. This claim can also be confirmed with nude photos Kat posted online, which I don't feel comfortable spreading, so you'll just have to trust me on that one. I also don't feel comfortable directly encouraging you to go and dig up those nudes, as most of her nude photos were either taken when she was a minor, spread without her consent and/or were uploaded because people pressured her into posting nudes to "prove" she was a transgender woman.

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: you bound with ace bandage in one of your selfies. i don't know what to think about you anymore. according to some people you're a 27 year old cis woman scamming us, but you say you're a 22 year old trans woman. i want to trust you but i don't know if i can. i'm sorry.

Rest assured I’m not 27 years old lol. What you’re referring to is a less than graceful ~art piece~ we did (”Playing a Boy” or something) on deviantART when we were 16/17 (?) and really ill-informed. I ask you to not take that as how I stand currently – as I have learned so much more since, and I have a penis and I was designated male at birth because of it (feel free to purchase a passcode to our nsfw blog to see for yourself). At the time we were developing breast tissue but still had to appear as a ‘boy.’ Don’t bind with Ace bandages, kids, it can damage your rib cage, something we didn’t know at the time.

(source) (source)

Transcript:

[A picture of two prescriptions, estradiol and spironolactone, both prescribed to Adele Sheffield.]

grandtran still gonna think I photoshopped it or what

(source)

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: In other words, you aren't gonna cough up the pics because you know you can't fake that shit because you're actually cis. Cool. BTW why do you keep changing your story about the blog, and if the blog was run by you when you were in denial about being trans because of self hate, why were the pics tagged mtf and you were constantly saying trans people were cool?

Yeah I’m not gonna do something for y’all and get nothing in return except more doubt from you, you see how one sided that kind of request is? Also its technically considered sexual harassment, just because its on the internet, you’re a coward (whats your username btw?), and you think I’m cis and you want me to prove time and time again to you that I’m dmab doesn’t justify sexually soliciting someone when they’re not comfortable in being solicited – for free no less.

At first I genuinely had no memory of that blog, it was only active for all of 2 months and for some reason I moved onto a new email and new tumblr, and I haven’t the foggiest why. As for the whole “me claiming to not be ~mtf~” I don’t have any memories from that time, I can only assume it was a lot of dysphoria fueled self-hatred and wanting to be seen/pass as a cis girl lesbian.

If you’re really gonna solicit nudes from a trans woman (a second time) as they do sex work to try and stay on their feet without offering anything in return just so your transmisogynistic ass can get off to trying to tell me my dick is fake isn’t classy at all. I perish the thought of what you’re parents would think of this behavior from you. But yeah, feel free to send some money to my paypal so I can get the gender markers on my records changed because that’s gonna cost a lot apparently, and I’ll definitely send you the dick pics you want. :)

(source) (source) (source)

Transcript:

[A picture of a a hospital bracelet on Kat's wrist. The patient's name is Adele Sheffield and her sex is labeled as "M".]

(source)

Kat Lied About Having Diabetes To Get Money From Tumblr Users

Verdict: False

This doesn't need much commentary from me, just view the screenshots below.

Transcript:

To the people who keep harping on me buying a $15 video game for my mental health 7 MONTHS ago “with my donation money,” well, here you go, some proof, links and screenshots provided

So for everyone spreading misinformation about me spending $15 on a video game for my mental health, here’s a full list of reasons why there is no way, shape, or form I spent my paypal money on it:

Yes, I spent $15 of my own money after selling one of my possessions, not denying it:

[A screenshot of a Tumblr post by Kat where she shows off a copy of Fall Out: New Vegas, marked with a price of $14.99. The date of the post is marked as July 21, 2014 at 06:28.39 PM.]

Be sure to look at the date, July 21st, 2014 6:28 PM. Now lets look at my first donation post asking for help:

[A screenshot of a Tumblr post by Kat where she asks for donations to be able to afford insulin because she has no insurance. The date of the post is marked as July 20, 2014 at 08:14.00 PM.]

Hmm, one day before the purchase of said game, July 20th 2014 at 8:14 PM. Now, I’ve never heard of a video game store — much less a non-chain video game store accepting payment for video games in the form of virtual Amazon gift cards, have you? Oh, but you’re gonna say, “well you bought the game with your paypal donations anyway!” Well, here’s exhibit C:

[Another screenshot of a separate post made by Kat where she is also asking for donations to be able to afford insulin. The date of the post is marked as July 23, 2014 at 12:27.46 PM.]

Again, looking at the date of this posting which is the original donations post, you can see it was posted on July 23rd, 2014 at 12:27 PM, a full 2 days after I had bought the game. Now, if there’s no way for me to use Amazon gift cards for a real life video game store, then how can I go back in time a minimum of 2 full days to give past me $15 to buy said game, hm? This isn’t even accounting for the fact that I didn’t even have my own bank account associated with it until over a week later, and it surely doesn’t account for the fact that it takes up to 5 days to transfer from paypal to your bank account. All the dates are linked to the original unedited posts so you can see for yourself, and for added measure my first deposit was on August 14th, 2014:

[A screenshot of a deposit made by Kat. The date is marked as 08/14/14.]

Oh but yeah, anti-sjs, truscum, and the like took damniwishidthoughtofabettername’s postthey used to gaslight us with misinformation and you all bought it. Tell me how I could misuse donations that I could not use outside of Amazon and money I didn’t even start receiving until a full two days later, let alone the fact that there’s no way I could have transferred said money and used it two days prior as of the date of the paypal donations post.

I hope some of y’all could reblog this and get the word out, I’m sick and tired of people buying into that misinformation that person did solely to gaslight me as a means to try and disrupt my donations drive.

(source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source)

Transcript:

[A selfie of Kat holding up a vial of Novolin to the camera.]

Hey anon, I don’t feel comfy giving you my receipts (because doxxing is a thing) but here you go, a selfie with my most recent insulin purchase. 👽

(source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source)

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: Getting desperate for money again I see. How is your fake diabetes lately. I bet your blood sugar is like 800 this time and you're still able to be alive somehow.

You got me, I’m ~totally faking~

[A selfie of Kat. In the background several items used by diabetics are seen such as insulin syringes, glucose tablets, a blood sugar tester and test strips.]

[A picture that gives us a closer look at the background of the previous selfie.]

[A selfie of Kat holding up two vials, one of Lantus and the other of Humalog.]

Gee, must be one dedicated faker, right? To have hundreds of dollars of insulin equipment and insulin itself. Hmmm… Insulin syringes, glucose tablets, a blood sugar tester and test strips.. oh and insulin, hmmmm….

Oh and because you didn’t learn from last time you don’t die instantly when your blood sugar goes over 600 lol, something anyone who studies endocrinology can tell you, and I would know, being a diabetic, having to be hospitalized numerous times for ketoacidosis where the blood sugar has been too high for too long. Things you clearly do not know and you’re just jumping on the disableist bandwagon. I have an idea of who you are anyway, just doing this for future reference.

(source)

[dahvangogh]

and empty words are evil | Jason Todd

[ prologue | one | two | three ]

[ao3 link]

note: Another week, another new chapter. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten any comments yet (except one in tumblr) but I did get a few kudos and hits which made me incredibly happy. I hope I got the new characters' introduced in this chapter well... like I'm a bit scared that they sound OOC or not credible enough. What do you think? Leave a comment on AO3 or here, please!

Also, I apologize for any grammatical mistakes, I tried my best to correct it all but I might have missed some things (english is not my native language)

Take care, guys. xx

CHAPTER TWO

“Life is what happens to us while we are making other plans.”

― Allen Saunders

The art gallery this morning was emptier than a banker’s heart, which suits her best if she is being honest, with her current predicament and all. While she doesn't work at the art gallery per se, like showing the displayed artworks or buying imported ones, she does work at the back of the gallery in one of the many workshops. Hence, if the place is full or has a chatty crowd, the sound will still get to her and echo all over her workshop.

Thankfully, that isn't the case today.

Grace is sporting a hangover as big as the Empire State Building. Yesterday night, while checking pictures and maps of Black Mask’s warehouse surroundings, she had chugged down two expensive wine bottles as if they were water.

You reap what you sow, dumbass.

She didn’t even like wine, like at all.

Her boss Rose had gifted her the two bottles for her birthday very kindly and when yesterday night she had seen the bottles collect dust in her pantry, she had thought she either drunk them now or threw them to the nearest trash can.

A coughing, as if someone was throat cleaning, sounds from behind and startles her.

Grace stops her precise strokes with the cotton swab and throws it into a bowl with many others that have been used before. Then, as she turns around towards the workshop door, she lowers her face mask. Her boss, a beautiful mature woman sporting amazing pink hair up in a tight knot and matching it with multicolored eyeshadow, is standing at the threshold of the door, tapping away something on her phone.

“How is it going with the portrait?”

Her gaze is still on the phone.

“Great. Maximum two or three days outmost for me. Then Caesar can frame it again and we can return it to the owner.”

At that, her boss looks up at her and smiles as kindly as usual. Rose Whitehall was the type of boss many dreamed about having.

And Grace knew she was lucky to have her.

When she had come to Gotham City, the first day Grace had visited Gotham’s Art Palace and fallen completely in love. She had hunted down Rose Whiteman, resume in hand, and insisted for weeks to have her at least be an intern. Rose had taken her resume and scanned it from head to bottom, commenting on how lucky Grace had been to be doing her apprenticeship on Museum Island in Berlin. Then, she had agreed to take her as an intern for two months. If she was as good as it seemed from her resume, she would hire her.

And now here she is, working for Rose and getting paid every month doing what she loves most.

“The owner will be coming in fifteen minutes, Grace.” She says which instantly makes Grace gape at that, eyes wide in shock. Forget what I said, she is a fucking bitch… “Don’t worry! He just wants to see how the process of restoration is going.”

Thank God.

The raven-haired girl now raises one of her brows in question.

“It isn’t common, I know. But we needed to check some details for the Gotham Annual Gala Dinner he is hosting, the one where we will auction some artwork, and he asked if it was possible to see it.” Rose approaches her while explaining. Then, she stands beside her looking at the big white worktable where the painting is placed and being restored. “You see, this portrait is very important to him.”

Grace stares at the painted canvas too.

It is a huge family portrait, clearly of a wealthy family, and the members seem happy. The tall man has broad-shoulders, probably in his early thirties, and is wearing an expensive-looking suit with matching black tie. His combed dark hair contrasts quite a bit with his vibrant blue eyes. Besides the proud man stands a dashing woman, probably in her mid-twenties, with light brown hair up in a chignon and soft but plump pink lips. She is wearing a green strapless dress, those that you would only wear in formal events or at a Gala.

From the first moment Grace had seen the painting, the woman had taken her breath away, –despite how dirty and darkened the portrait is–. She still looked positively and extraordinarily beautiful. If Grace had ever seen her walking down the street, she would have immediately taken her small sketchpad out of her handbag and drawn her.

The painter clearly had done a remarkable job depicting them.

Though, as usual with any type of paints, the painting was forever condemned to be restored a few times and treated with preventive care until the owner decides to dispose of it.

Now, Grace follows with her eyesight the strong hand that the man has placed on a petite shoulder, and a smile immediately blooms on her face. It always happened these past days too. Whenever she looked at the third and last member of the painting she would inevitably smile.

A young boy.

He was probably six or seven years old when the portrait had been done. He looks like the spitting image of the older man, undoubtedly they were father and son, but has the same soft smile as the lovely woman.

“You have done a remarkable job, Grace.”

Her boss pats her on the shoulder, still looking at the couple depicted on the portrait.

“I never asked… do you know them? Personally, I mean… ”

Rose smiles sadly.

“My parents were friends with them, so I do remember meeting the family once or twice at dinner parties… sadly, the couple passed away due to very unfortunate circumstances.”

Grace now smiles saddened, trying not to imagine the sweet young boy crying in front of two stone gravels, utterly alone in the world.

A whistle-like sound, which Grace knows by now that it means a notification of Rose’s phone, echoes all over the workshop.

“And that must be him.”

Rose starts walking towards the door, the sound of her heels following her, but stops and then looks over her shoulder.

“Keep working on that! Now!”

And with a wink, she walks off towards the gallery section, disappearing from her sight.

“Aye, aye, captain!”

Grace pulls up her white face mask and rubs her gloved hands together, feeling a bit anxious about facing a client for the first time. She has never done so, an art restorer never meets her client unless she works at a museum –which means the museum is the owner, unless the piece was donated, that's another case altogether.

Though in this case... She did know that the restoration of this portrait was a special request to Rose, she said so, but now she understands why. The reason being that Rose knew the family sort of personally.

But she still never expected to meet the client.

She assesses that she mustn’t look that bad, thanking her morning-self for choosing an outfit that looks classy and professional on her.

Her hair is tied up with a ribbon in a high ponytail, very 60s with how her curls look, and her floral long skirt complements her white v-neck blouse. She had even gone as far as putting on some nude lipstick which looked great with her Bridget Bardot inspired eye look.

I hope my eye make up isn't ruined... Pandas don't look professional and efficient.

She sighs loudly.

Wait… Why in Hell am I worried about how I look? Pull yourself together!

She sighs again, which feels weird while wearing a face mask, and now picks up a new cotton swab, proceeding with socking it in a special liquid for cleaning. Before being interrupted, Grace was working on some details on the young boy’s suit and so now she goes back to working on that.

If everything goes according to her plan, she will finish today with the final touch-ups, and tomorrow she will varnish the whole thing.

Grace focuses on the section of the boy’s suit, who is placed at the bottom of the painting, and starts cleaning.

She has taken longer on this work because of how huge it was, plus she had two other more urgent works to do. Nevertheless, she feels confident that between today and tomorrow she can perfectly finish it.

Suddenly, the brunette sees a dark blurb move from the corner of her eye and so she stops her soft strokes to look beside her.

A child?

The young boy is attentively looking at her hand and analyzing its movements.

She raises an eyebrow in question.

The boy turns to look at her, his brows now furrowed and arms crossed, as if pissed that she has stopped doing her job.

They both stare at each other, no words spoken between them for a bit.

“You are surprisingly good for someone so young.” His child-like voice is a heavy contrast to how serious and formal his words are. “Though I assured father that I was more than capable of handling such an easy task.”

Grace blinks a few times, at first paying more attention to the pale scar at the tail of his right eyebrow that stands out against his tan skin, but then she registers what he has just said.

You little sh...

“Then your father was being smart, for such a delicate portrait deserves an experienced hand and....” She pulls her face mask down and smiles sweetly, all while looking down at him. “I highly doubt you would be up to that high standard.”

The boy, despite his sun-kissed skin, blushes notoriously. Yet, his brows are still furrowed, even more so now than before.

“I will have you know that… ”

He looks adorable, all angry while clenching his fists at his sides, and she can help but soften at the sight.

Grace quickly interrupts him.

“Though I’m sure that with proper study and practice, when you are older you might be able.”

He blinks a few times and then relaxes, though still sporting his adorable blush.

“Damian, don’t harass the lady while she is working.”

A deep and rich voice asks –probably to the boy, Damian is not her name– and both the kid and her turn their heads towards the threshold.

She holds a gasp.

Grace has just come across Bruce Wayne himself.

He is standing in the workshop threshold, all calm and poise. The man is surprisingly more handsome in real life than in the newspapers or tv. He is beautiful, yet I wouldn't paint him ever. Don't mistake her, he is handsome as hell. He looks extremely fit in his probably very expensive dark suit and as dashing as ever with his chiseled face, straight nose, and smiling soft lips. Yet something is amiss with him.

He doesn't look whole.

Too perfect.

“Father!”

She turns towards the young boy and sees it. The connection. They are identical, though Damian reaches her elbow, has a much darker complexion and his eyes are green instead of blue. Everything else is positively the same. As in the same well-kept haircut, long at the top and not too short at the sides –though the boy' is styled more child-friendly–, the same bone structure in the face and the same poise while standing.

Damian is a walking mini-Bruce.

The man walks towards them, still all calm and charm, and she can't help but search for any flaws. His blue eyes feel like they are analyzing her, which she quickly attributes to him being a worried father of finding alone his child with a total stranger, and so she tries to relax her and look non-threatening. After all, they were just talking.

“Bruce Wayne.” he introduces himself, offering his big hand. “Quite young for an art restorer, aren’t you?”

You just didn't...

She tries to smile and raises her hand, not shaking his but waving it.

“Grace Henderson, would shake your hand but I’m wearing protective gloves and they need to be as clean as possible,” she says nonchalantly, though she still wants to grunt out loud for his damn comment. “I’m 25 years old and was personally tasked to do this by Miss Whitehall, though I personally believe she knows what she is doing, you are more than free to go and request another restorer.”

She hears Damian laugh, but she holds Bruce's stare, not backing out.

He smiles charmingly, taking a step forward.

“I didn’t mean to… ”

Her smile enlarges.

“Yes, you did.” Grace waves her hand as if dismissing him. “I’m used to it, though. So no offense is taken.”

Liar... It stinks.

Bruce opens his mouth as if to reply with something, but then his eyes zoom on the portrait laying on the work table and he instantly closes it.

He stares at it, almost as if zooming out.

“Well... Now I can see why.” He smiles, not a charming one but a soft-looking one, his eyes shining a bit. “It looks just like the first time I saw it.”

Both Damian and her turn towards the portrait on the worktable.

She rubs her hands, a bit taken aback by the subtle compliment.

“It’s still not finished! I’m giving it the final touches now and tomorrow I will varnish it properly.”

She looks at him, expecting another smart comment, but he is still attentively looking at the canvas.

Oh my...

Grace holds the gasp in, realizing that the young boy in the portrait is none other than the man standing right beside her. Bruce Wayne, who had lost his parents tragically when he was a young boy, patron of the city and famous playboy. The sight of a young boy crying in front of two gray graves materializes in her mind again.

She gulps.

“Caesar who is a more experienced curator will frame it again and will also take care of the handling of the portrait until it is delivered safely to you.” She further explains, her voice shaking a bit. “It will be as good as new, I promise.”

The handsome man now turns to her and smiles kindly, placing a hand on her arm.

“Thank you for your hard work. Rose assured me that it was being handled by the best hands, but still… ” He moves his head to the side, presses his lips together for a moment and then smiles again. “I wanted to be sure.”

She nods reassuringly.

“I understand.”

Bruce takes his big hand off her arm and places his other atop Damian’s head.

“And again, I hope Damian wasn’t bothering you too much.”

The young boy huffs, crossing his arms and raising one of his eyebrows at his father’s words, either embarrassed or annoyed.

“Not at all.” She looks at both of them with a smirk on her lips. “He seemed to think the same as you.”

Bruce looks down at Damian, who raises his chin almost proudly while staring at the work table and the portrait.

“Though I believe that was just a misconception…” She lowers a bit her torso towards him and smiles truthfully at the young boy. “Right, Damian?”

Now the dark-haired boy turns to look at her, but just as suddenly as he does that, he blushes. Quickly, probably to hide it away, he turns his stare towards the workplace again while his hands move towards his back in a very regal pose.

Then he huffs.

Aw... Adorable.

Bruce looks at him, curiosity now shining in his blue eyes, and then laughs broadly. The man pats ruffles his son’s head.

“He is very much interested in the arts, Miss Henderson.”

Grace finally feels herself relax fully in their presence, her body completely viewing Bruce and Damian Wayne as nonthreatening.

He won't hurt me.

“I assumed as much.” She focuses on Damian, who is looking askance at her, and she smiles again. Grace sees a bit of her in him. “Well, if you ever want to talk about art... You will be more than welcome here.”

That seems to catch his attention. Damian now turns to look at her fully, curiosity shining in his green eyes, and raises his chin as if trying to seem taller.

“I might, though my schedule is usually very full.”

Bruce laughs again while Grace nods –trying very hard to hold a laugh in– at what Damian just said. He sounds like a tiny old man.

“Perfect. And with that settled… we will leave you to your work, miss Henderson.”

She nods again, turning towards Bruce.

“Pleasure to meet you both.”

He nods.

They both leisurely walk towards the exit of the workshop, but while Bruce doesn't look back, Damian looks over his shoulder at her.

Her smile is sweet, waving her hand to say goodbye.

“Bye, Damian.”

He answers with a humph, a pretty blush on his cheeks, and disappears from her sight together with his father.

– – –

The elevator of her apartment complex, one of the many skyscrapers in Gotham City, is probably slower than a snail. She leans back on the mirror, not wanting to see her reflection, and sighs loudly.

As if the elevator would notice her annoyance and decide to finally be quicker.

Her phone vibrates on her hand.

She unblocks it and laughs softly when she reads Harley’s message.

hey hey hey! tonight is the night, right?

I haven’t been this excited since x-mas.

Grace sends a reply as fast as lightning.

Chill, girl. I will be at your house around midnight or so.

A bubble with three periods appears, Harley writing an answer at the moment.

GREAT! I will make margaritas then, to celebrate, ya’ know?!

The dark-haired rolls her eyes, a smirk now plastered on her lips, and the doors of her elevator finally open on her floor. She sees the amazing views, even in the hallway, and her shoulders finally sink. Tonight Grace just wants to have a bubble bath and rewatch her favorite movie, Top Gun, while munching a few snacks.

She pouts while opening her apartment’s door.

But suddenly, when thinking about what she will actually do tonight, the butterflies appear and start flying like crazy in her stomach.

Grace’s mood changes.

She had really missed doing her thing and Harley’s offer was the perfect excuse to finally put on the suit and say goodbye to her boundaries.

Normal is overrated, girl.

The midnight-haired girl writes a quick reply while kicking her shoes off.

Can’t wait!

– – –

The night air is ice cold and furious, smacking on her cheeks nonstop and messing with the hair of her ponytail. Her domino mask is only protecting her eye area, so the other parts of her head are now being subjected to the icy harsh wind and she can’t do anything about it.

Perhaps I should invest in a full-face mask or a helmet…

Nevertheless, despite the cold, she had missed the feeling of her suit on her skin. It is a full-on one, completely black and its texture similar to shiny leather, with a thin Kevlar armor underneath it and a utility belt laying low around her hips. Her high heeled boots and pair of gloves are also the same material as her suit. Furthermore, to conceal her identity, not only does she wear her domino mask but she has also grown her hair to waist length, wearing it in a sleek high ponytail.

Her powers can do wonders.

Thank you, Sir meteorite. The powers you have given me will never cease to amaze me.

She sees a new white van coming, then parking in the big parking lot in front of the warehouse’s main door and four men get off from it.

Black Mask’s warehouse is at Miller Harbor, surrounded by many other storage facilities and storehouses, which makes it quite easy for her. The storage facility in front of the warehouse has four floors, the building a bit higher than other facilities around it, so she has the perfect view of the warehouse and surroundings.

She is sitting on the rooftop’ railing, childishly kicking her feet up and munching the leftovers of kebab, while observing a group of five Black Mask’s thugs unload the truck while two others guard the door.

Mr. Ahmed, I would marry you if I didn’t know you already had a wife; she can’t help but think about the sweet cook. Your kebabs are the reason why I still believe in humanity.

She finishes it and crumples the aluminum foil, making a ball out of it. Then throws it up in the air and waves her hand at it, making it disappear in thin air as if it had never even existed.

Where? It’s better if you don’t ask her.

“Time to play.”

She jumps off the railing and extends her arms, her body pose resembling a cross up in the air, and lets the restraint on her powers go. Grace knows that she won’t break her legs, also very sure that a soft green bluish glow surrounds her, and so she lands gracefully on the ground.

Her high-heeled black boots make its characteristic sound as she calmly walks towards the parking lot and the thugs.

All of these guys are big, as in they probably live in a gym by the day and work here by night type of big. They are all dressed in black, wearing bulletproof vests and military boots in said colors, some even wearing black beanies or gloves due to the cold of October.

However, both the four thugs keep unloading big boxes out of the truck’s onto the pavement and the pair at the main door don’t seem to even register her presence.

“Need a hand, boys?”

All of them look up towards her, two even pulling out handguns while the others pull out knives and where the heck did that guy put a baton off?

“Girl! Get the fuck out of here!”

“Where did she come from!?”

“Get lost or we will fuck you up!”

She laughs sweetly.

“Sorry, no can do.”

And she goes out to town.

Grace runs towards the one closest to her and jumps, her legs enclosing his thick neck, then pulls him towards the ground. She hears the loud sound his head makes when it hits the pavement, but without missing a bit she extends both her arms at her sides, palms up and glowing in her usual color. A wave of power flows through her hands and they fly across the parking lot.

Four down, two left.

“You!” One of the guys at the door says, running towards her with a shotgun in his hands.

She waves a hand, a motion of shooing away, and he collides against the main door.

One left.

Grace calmly walks towards the last one, who is shaking in fear or perhaps because of how cold it is, still guarding the main door despite his buddy being knocked out near it. His aura is shaking like jello. When she stands a few feet away from him, now trying not to laugh at the poor man trying to be brave, he directs the muzzle of his shotgun at her.

“Hello.”

“What… what are you!?”

The raven-haired merely smiles in answer and extends her left hand, the man floating at the speed of light towards her hand, like a magnet attracted to a metal piece.

Grace tightens her hold, now estrangling him while he still floats in the air.

“Where are the explosives?”

He croaks, opening his mouth like a fish a few times, emitting broken sounds.

The raven-haired scrunches her nose, then relaxes her hold on his neck just a bit, easing the flow of air to his lungs so he might talk more easily.

“Where is it?”

He opens and closes his mouth again and again, but no sound comes out from his thin and chapped lips.

“If I… If I tell you, he will kill me!” He cries out, his legs kicking the air uselessly, visibly shaking. “I can’t tell you! I can’t! He will kill me! He will kill my family!”

She grunts a bit, tightening her chokehold on his neck.

“Trust me… If you don’t tell me where it is right now, whatever I do to you will be ten times much worse than what he might do.” Her voice now raised an octave, pushing him through a burst of power to the hard metal doors. Next, she pushes him with each following word for emphasis.“So tell me. Now.”

His mouth keeps opening like a fish but still, no sound comes out of it.

“I see… ” she says, sighing dramatically.

Time to put on a good show.

She closes her eyes and tries to center her powers on only her vision, but her power is too unstable and takes much concentration than that. So she relaxes herself, takes a bit of time, and then the brightness of the glow that surrounds her whole body reaches sun-like-blaze levels. There. Next, while she bites her lips trying to focus much more, she visualizes what she wants to achieve. A few seconds pass and when she finally opens them, she has mastered the brightness and her eyes are now the only thing shinning.

As in shinning as bright as the sun.

But there it is, also that side of her powers that is too untameable or unstable to fully be mastered by her. Grace feels her hair float, almost like there is no gravity surrounding her, which she hadn't meant to do.

Nevertheless, it probably helps her look scary and powerful. So, she tights her choke on his neck.

“One last chance… ” her voice sounds modified, not human at all, which she hadn't meant to do either.

She sees him open his eyes –if it is even possible– much more open than before, sort of like a cartoon character would do. Grace now knows that she looks terrifying with her domino mask with glowing eyes, hair floating around, and a creepy voice.

“No! No! No!” he begs in a yell, still kicking his feet up, completely horrified. “Wait! Wait! Wait, please! I will tell… I will tell you!”

She relaxes a bit her hold.

“They are stored inside three wood boxes... and they have written fragile in red capital letters all over them.” he croaks, and Grace feels every word he says through the palm of her hand. “They are the only ones marked with those words, to differentiate them!”

She nods, registering the information.

“Thank you.”

And she smacks his head hard against the metallic door.

The raven-haired checks the auras of all the thugs scattered around her, to see if they are still unconscious or if there are more out there that she hasn't seen, but what she finds confuses her. There are seven more scattered inside and around the warehouse, but weirdly enough they feel like they are barely there.

Oh, oh. Not good.

This reminds her of the first time she killed someone. When she had her first run with the Serbian Mafia, one of the caporegimes had infuriated her so much that she had just killed him right then and there, on the spot. Despite instantly becoming a target for them. And the feeling… She had felt how the soldier’s aura slowly evaporated into nothingness. Similar to how the light of a bulb diminishes until it completely burns out.

Those auras sort of felt like that.

However, they could probably be saved if she called an ambulance or the police.

What do I do? Should I...?

She sighs, still debating about it, and while opening the door, searches for more auras. Trying to find either a perpetrator or another human being who would help them. However, there aren’t any on the warehouse or its premises.

Weird.

Grace scrunches her nose, overthinking for a few seconds until the thought of them working for Black Mask and probably having done bad things for him makes her decide to just leave their fate to luck.

Screw it.

The raven-haired girl lets her powers surround her, no longer focusing on her eyes, and starts walking inside confidently.

Whatever is inside, it should be scared of me.

The first thing she notices is how the lights are out, which she quickly remedies with a snap of her fingers, then how the whole warehouse is full of thousands of wooden boxes scattered around, though the pillars here and there obstruct her view a bit. The place reminds her of a hangar but without the airplanes and fighter planes.

She groans, cursing herself for not asking where exactly are the boxes placed, and so she starts walking around looking for something red.

No red.

A Subway's meal leftovers.

No red.

Is that a used condom? Ew. Also, no red.

No red.

No red.

A few minutes later, she ends up at the center of the warehouse. The three boxes are stacked up in pairs of two, so the odd one is pilled up with another one without a mark on it. She kneels in front of the regular box, now debating whether to take it with her too or to just do some heavy lifting and stack the odd one with the others, until she feels it.

So bright and warm.

Oh my…

Grace even gasps loudly.

An aura, five feet behind her, burning as bright and fiery as the blazing sun.

It could burn me alive if an aura was even tangible.

She had probably been too immersed in searching for the correct boxes that she hadn’t realized the moment the person had stepped in. Moreover, before going inside, she had checked if there was anyone else around and had come across no one on the premises. So, that person had probably entered when she was looking for her special cargo.

This is Black Mask's fault! Screw him for having his warehouse so disorganized! Didn't his mother ever teach him of keeping his things tidy?!

Grace tries to center herself, not wanting to appear scared or nervous. Then, rising up calmly from her kneeling position, she turns around and comments nonchalantly: “It is considered rude to stare at someone and not greet them.”

Red.

That’s what she first sees.

A man wearing a red helmet, no facial expression on it, with white slits in the form of eyes. He is standing five feet away from her, leaning nonchalantly against a pillar, his arms crossed against his ample chest and with his military tactical boots also crossed at the ankles.

Red?

She scans him while thinking of Gotham's vigilantes and criminals.

Red...

Red...

Red Robin? No, he isn't wearing that weird cape Lisa mentioned.

“Red Hood, I presume?”

He shrugs, all calm but fiery aura.

“In the flesh.”

His voice low and tinted with humor.

Red Hood looks like a brute, as in a big and quite muscular guy. He is wearing a brown leather jacket and underneath it, some sort of black-grey armored under-shirt with a red bat symbol Emblem in the middle of the pectoral area. His black-grey cargo pants are the same color as his undershirt, almost making it look like it's a whole bodysuit, plus also carrying two tactical holsters united in a utility black belt.

Damn, someone doesn’t skip leg day. Those are some big thighs.

His tighs are probably bigger than her head, though she tries not to stare too much.

She probably fails, but whatever.

“Thought you didn’t go around killing people anymore?” she tries to buy time, remembering what Lisa had told her about the vigilante.

She bobs her head to the left, assessing him.

Red Hood. Gun guy. Former Crime Lord, had painted Gotham City red until he had stopped killing and started using the same methods as Batman & Co. Still, too ruthless for my liking. You say his name and everyone shits their pants. A vigilante, but not one you want to meet, unlike Nightwing or Batgirl. From what I heard from one of the police guys at the clinic, he is good in a fight, quite at par with Batman.

He stands up from his position, and while he is looking calm and confident, she can clearly see the signs of him being ready for whatever she is about to do.

“Rough night. Bat can suck it.” his voice is low and clearly electronically modified. Then, he points at her with his black-gloved hand, like a child. “Now, time for you to introdu… ”

She holds her glowing left hand up, interrupting him midsentence.

Then, she runs towards him.

“And you talk about manners…” his annoying voice chastises her, which somehow irks her.

Grace knows she probably won't win against him like this, but he clearly has a big ego and his confidence can be used against him.

Men and their egos.

He effortlessly dodges her first punch, which she knew he would, and she throws another one towards his face. Red Hood merely captures her fist in his gloved hand, a tight hold that almost feels like he will break all her bones, and clucks humorously.

“You suck at fighting, so stick to magic.”

She wants to roll her eyes so badly.

They are pretty close, only a feet apart, and despite her high-heeled boots she still has to look up to see his masked face. It irks her even more, her height is something that has always bothered her.

“Oh… As you wish.”

She smiles prettily while shrugging her shoulders.

One of his feet steps back, his instinct probably screaming at him to pull back and so he tries to pull away, letting go of her fist, but it is already too late.

Got you.

Grace opens her fist up and he starts floating, a feet up in the air, his jacket opening a bit with how fast she elevated him. He has a green bluish glow around him, which is actually what is keeping him up, and she starts to smack the air.

His face turns left and right, clearly feeling her slaps, completely powerless to her ministrations.

“It’s fun, right?” she laughs, though she feels no joy or pleasure from what she is doing. “You should have shot me right when you saw me, Red.”

He grunts but gives no further reaction.

She stops slapping the air and his face stops moving, still motionless and floating in the air. She supposes he is looking at her, after all his red helmet is facing her.

“I heard so much about you.” She stares at those white slits, smiling sweetly at the man. “From what I heard, you painted Gotham City red for a few months. So many fear you… If only they saw you now. Completely powerless.”

The explosives, girl. Focus! she tries to focus on her “mission” and stops mocking him. Right, the explosives.

The raven-haired girl keeps her hand up, keeping him afloat, and turns to the side. She is still able to see him, but now can also clearly see the wooden boxes.

“Who are you?” he asks, humor no longer in his voice. He doesn’t seem scared, which sort of surprises her a bit. “What do you want with Black Mask? What are you doing in Gotham?”

“None of your business, Little Red Riding Hood.” she mocks him, scrunching her nose in annoyance. “Now shut it or I will gag you.”

She raises her other hand and with her open palm, draws an O near where the boxes are located, closing her eyes and furrowing her brows for further concentration. Grace pictures Harley’s house, not the inside of it, but the front door. Just the front door. She hears the wind howling and when she opens her eyes again, inside the perimeter of the O there is the view of Harley’s door.

Grace knows she has a few precious seconds before the portal closes –multitasking was never her forte– and so she quickly directs her palm’s towards the boxes, imagining them floating as if there was no gravity.

“His explosives?” Red Hood grumbles in a low whisper, probably a thought said out loud.

Suddenly, a surge of power in her characteristic color surrounds them and the boxes start floating as Red Hood currently is. Then, they start dancing through the air towards the portal until crossing it and gently settling in the doorstep.

Mission Accomplished.

She snaps her fingers and the portal closes, just as if she had just turned the TV off with a remote.

Now, let's get out of here.

Grace turns around and lowers her other hand. Red Hood slowly starts lowering towards the ground, still surrounded by her power and fully in her control.

The raven-haired girl purses her lips and then smiles, as if a great idea has just come to her.

“Now, would you please sit down like a good boy and let me leave unharmed?” she asks in a pleading mocking tone.

She can imagine him smirking under the helmet while huffing a laugh, despite being at her mercy, and she can feel danger oozing from him.

The man is clearly not scared of her.

And very confident in himself.

“No can do, sweetheart.” his raspy and modified voice almost shocks her.

She walks towards him with a pout on her lips, trying to appear confident when she actually isn’t feeling like that at all, and looks up at him. Grace hopes she looks sort of attractive, or at least cute enough to not make him kill her if she slips and lets him go.

“Pity.” she exaggerates her pout, totally mocking him. “I would have even invited you to a drink or something.”

Wait... why do I sound flirty?

He lowers his head a bit, which to say the least surprises her. He shouldn't be able to move at all, but he has just moved his head, and so she tries to not freak out in front of him. To keep calm and seem confident.

“Let me go.”

She laughs as if that comment is the funniest thing she has ever heard.

“As if I’m that stupid.” she pats his chest with her left hand, leaning into him. “You will turn me into a colander. So, no. Your guns stay where they are. Thank you.”

He lets out a laugh that rumbles through his chest, clearly amused. Grace can even feel it through her gloves and his armored under-shirt, and she tries not to laugh too.

“I could go slow… be gentle.”

She answers with a moan as if the mere idea excites her, and did he just take a small step forward?

He is starting to break through, shit. You should have mind-controlled him, idiot!

“As tempting as that sounds, I will have to pass on that… You see,” She pats his chest for emphasis one last time, nodding along to what she herself just said. Then, she shrugs her shoulders.“I’m an old-fashioned girl, so you would have to take me to dinner first. Perhaps even sweep me off my feet?”

The raven-haired girl turns around and when she is a few feet away, just where the wooden boxes were sitting before, she opens the portal again to Harley’s house. She crosses through it, her footsteps slow but surely, until she no longer is standing inside Black Mask's warehouse but in Harley's doorstep with the four boxes.

Grace proceeds to raise her left hand, as if throwing something over her shoulder, and she doesn't have to turn around to know that the walls close on the Red Hood.

Yet, she still turns around to see. She doesn't know why, but she views as the whole building crumbles in, no sight of Red Hood, who is probably dead or buried underneath all the rubble.

She doesn't feel good.

But she knew he wouldn't let her go, not before probably torturing her or giving her up to Batman or even to the police.

“Goodbye, Red.”

[sunnysynthsunshine]

Magnifique Pete (Pete Burns Tribute) (Original Poem)

Who is that? mysterious figure wearing flowers In his hair! Draped in leopard print, bizarre patterns and dark contacts He was working at the local record store appearing to be in some local band a free spirit, his choice of clothing and music style Made him stand out from the rest A new decade was approaching, the waxy nightmares Took on a different form, posing with his sideways microphone the star wore dreads, colourful hats his long locks of fabulous hair tied back singing about bad romances Or catchy pop covers that made you wanna dance That’s the way we like it As DJ hit’s their button He had set the sights on Fame! Now everyone knew his name The fans were having fun As he’d open up his loving arms Watch out he was spinning Like a Record on the no.1 charts There was no stopping this majestic superstar he had his cake and ate it too The eighties sensation rocketed up However, some of the music press Would not mention his other hits, years later being associated with just that single The cost of being a popular symbol There was never just one look, his vibes were a whole rainbow, looking past the eyepatch was the next album Mad, bad and dangerous to know Full of cowboy heartbreaks, kisses that were too hot for MTV and supernatural affairs Big in Japan handsome androgynous man Occasionally displaying a snarky attitude, he wouldn’t stop dancing or posing even when half nude sat in a Keith Haring bathtub He was hooked On Love Lynne is his everything Going way back when Even when he found another spouse She’s still a dear supportive friend He had to adjust his nose after a fight Cosmetic surgery was the solution Most procedures chosen Continuing to perform onstage full of emotion The decade had left some Unhappy birthdays and a blue Christmas The world was dying of an unknown viral illness Touring America, giving tributes to the sick A rare album that was mainly acoustic Other forms of Gender expression Were soon more seen, Sometimes for pride, he would arrive Nukleopatra was the non-binary anthem of 1995 He was an international thing Long black hair, a ten-inch waist Shades and mickey mouse ears Taking album cover space His heart would find Someone to love once again A daydream believer With a diamond-studded Heart of gold His band’s final album Released at the start Of the next Millennial His new man Michael Was who he chose To Exchange Hands with sparkling skull rings Unfortunately the Tabloid press Had found their new Gossip target fling Each cosmetic procedure Highlighting a new feature Until one surgeon with an extortionate pricetag Caused the start of an enormous health snag In and out of hospitals and operation tables Newspapers listing him one of the plastic surgery fails His physical and mental health was becoming unstable Soon he would try to recover, Getting a role as a housemate on Celebrity Big Brother From his controversial fur coat style of Cruella De Vil Housemates misunderstanding His brutally honest tone Trying to be civil Jodie Marsh Was the Loudmouth in the house Continuing to gain Loads of clout As the house tasks Became more advanced He had to talk to a plant Giving his own sardonic Buddhist chant From the show He donated his money To a transgender charity Helping out the LGBT community Back when others would Be silent His new show involved finding a new personal assistant A regular on reality tv Iconic in pop culture Covered in tattoos Although Liquid News Did find his dark sense of humour At times vulgar More collaborative tracks Flamboyant eclectic acts Let’s just dance Never Marry an icon Jack and Jill Party The Art The pressure of health and the press Stressed him out Halfway into the new decade But he couldn’t continue along The press invading him about his personal business instead of his well-written songs He couldn’t Carry On October 23rd 2016 Was the day Your flame Had burnt out Your fragile heart Went bang You’re in too deep Don’t say goodbye Gone too long I know your up there Somewhere But you not being on earth Anymore Just isn’t fair I hope your days are going well Whatever realm you’re in We all miss you Your fans and loved ones Michael and Lynne Your stunning soul Made this bleak world colourful and whole An absolute icon 5 years on Out of all the special stars In this world You shine the brightest Thanks for allowing me to Be more confident About Gender allowing me to meet Some incredible amazing friends You’ve brought us together Your memory will be in our hearts Forever We shall continue to share your Masterpieces which we’ll archive whether your Dead or Alive Offering art and gifts For when your angelic spirit Decides to visit Whilst we mourn and yearn We’re talking about you The one and only beautiful icon Pete Jozeppi Burns

[tumblingdoe]

FULL INTERVIEW WITH DR. KIT STUBBS the founder of the Effing Foundation. 

1. How did the Effing Foundation start? Why? Why you?

I started getting the idea for what would eventually become the Effing Foundation back around 2012. I had started making some very nerdy sex toys -- my first dildo, the Tardis Tickler, is a copy of my favorite toy with a small Tardis suspended inside it; I also made The Hammer, a rainbow light-up dildo controlled by an Arduino microcontroller. People really enjoyed those toys! They made people laugh, and they encouraged people to talk about sex and sexuality in a way that wasn't sexualizing or objectifying. So I started giving talks about DIY sex toys and sex/tech, which meant I started meeting all kinds of cool artists, educators, and other sex-positive folk. And I realized that there was a growing community of creators who were trying to start these conversations, but that it's incredibly difficult to get financial support to do so. I realized that changing the world requires money. It takes a lot of other things, too, but if you don't have money, it's hard to get very far. So the Foundation grew out of the desire to move money from, say, my friends in tech who are sex-positive, and get it to sex-positive artists and educators who really need the support to do their work.

Why me? Well, after I got my Ph.D. in robotics and had been working in that field for a couple of years, I realized that there were already a lot of people doing great work in robotics. But there weren't very many people doing sex-positive activism, and I have a lot of privileges that make it easier for me -- I'm white, I'm well-educated, I have financial support, and I can use my wallet name with the fancy letters after it. I felt that I could make better use of those advantages, and make a bigger impact on the world, if I moved from robotics to sex-positive activism.

2. Why do you keep it going? How long would you like it to live on for?

I work so hard to keep the Foundation alive not only because I love doing this work -- I have met so many amazing people, and I have had the honor of helping to bring some absolutely fabulous projects into the world -- but also because it's so desperately needed. We've made a lot of progress, but we are still a ways away from a world where every person has access to pleasure-focused, scientifically accurate, age-appropriate, queer, trans, and disability-inclusive sexual education; a world where we can have open conversations about sex, sexuality and asexuality, about consent and relationships, without fear, shame, or stigma.

I want the Effing Foundation to live on until it's no longer needed, to be honest! But I think we have a lot of work to get there.

3. What's your big dream with it?

I want us to be able to give away hundreds of thousands of dollars every year, to be able to offer ongoing funding to projects we support, and to have a small staff of folks who are doing this full time and getting paid for their work. Right now we can only make grants in the US, but eventually I'd love for us to gain the skills and people we need in order to make grants internationally, too.

4. Is there a way for the public to have a say on who is granted funding?

No, not really, and that's an intentional choice. The folks who have the most say right now are our Board and our Advisory Council, which is made up of sex-positive artists, educators and activists -- as much as possible, we want funding decisions to be made by people who represent the communities we are trying to support.

If you're a member of the public, you can get involved by donating and by telling your favorite sex-positive educators, artists, or organizations about our grant program so they can apply!

5. When is the application for funding deadline?

We haven't announced next year's calendar yet, but generally submissions open in late spring and close in the summer. If you want to get emails about the grant program, you can go to

https://www.effing.org/join

and sign up for grant updates there.

6. How do you decide who to give the money to?

Our submission process starts with an online survey, where someone tells us a bit about who they are and what they would like to do. We first rule out submissions that aren't really about sex or that aren't #ownvoices (meaning the person doing the work doesn't share the same life experiences as the people the work is focused on). We also rule out projects where there are other funding agencies available, like projects that are about public health. We look at how well the work supports our mission and our values, and we have a number of demographic goals to make sure we are getting funding to people with (multiple) marginalized identities. We also have a set of special topics that we're particularly interested in -- this year, those topics included supporting intersex people and supporting neurodiverse people.  Based on all of those goals, our staff and Advisory Council narrow those initial surveys down to the top dozen or so, and then those projects move to the next round where they give us more details and things like a budget. The Advisory Council reviews that information more closely and provides feedback to the applicants, who have an opportunity to edit their applications before the Advisory Council reviews them and make recommendations to the Board, who make the final funding decisions.

We try to balance supporting projects and organizations that are well-established with supporting people who may be relatively new to the sexuality space; and we try to make sure we are funding projects from a lot of different parts of the US.

7. Is sexuality underfunded!?!

The sexuality field is extremely underfunded! If you start looking at an area like public health -- HIV and STI prevention and treatment -- those  have some funding, but they're still really underfunded. If you look at things like queer- and trans-inclusive, pleasure-focused sex education, or support for art that celebrates sexuality, or for resources supporting fat folks or disabled folks with respect to sex, there's basically nothing. Sadface!

We're extremely proud that the Effing Foundation funds the kinds of work that almost no one else will. Award-winning, ethically produced queer feminist porn? An anthology of erotic live-action games? Phenomenal fat-positive nude photography shoots? Yep, we fund that.

8. How much of an impact do you think it makes? Do you have statistics?

In our first two years, we've awarded over $100,000 in grants. That has helped us reach over 2,400 people directly as audience members, workshop participants, and performers, and we've reached over 240,000 people via the web (including social media, web visits, and podcast downloads). That doesn't include the impacts that are harder to measure -- the work that couldn't have been done with out our support, and the difference that we've made in the lives of individual artists and educators, where we've helped fund new equipment that will help them keep doing their awesome work for years to come.

9. Why did you choose to partner with Sexplanations?

Choosing to partner with Sexplanations was a really exciting opportunity for us. Sexplanations works to provide inclusive, scientifically accurate, pleasure-focused sex education, which is exactly the kind of work that our organization wants to support! We're a relatively young and small organization, so this partnership also gives us the opportunity to tell the Sexplanations audience about our mission and our awesome grantees.

10. What do you want my audience to know about the Effing Foundation?

The Effing Foundation is a new non-profit whose entire purpose is to help bring more sex-positive art and education into the world. If you like Sexplanations, you might also like some of the other projects we're supporting! And if you want to support awesome sexuality educators and artists, your donations will help us make even more grants.

11. What other names did you come up with for it before choosing the Effing Foundation?

Oh, geez! I am so horrible at naming things. So originally my idea had been to build a crowdfunding site for sexuality projects (this was back before you could put much of anything relating to sex on Kickstarter or IndieGoGo), and the best name I could come up with for that site was "Passionate Produce." It was a very weird garden metaphor. Once I realized that it made more sense to build a not-for-profit, The Effing Foundation was actually almost the first name that I came up with, but I was like, "lol, that would never actually work." So I spent another six or eight months trying to come up with a name, but I never found anything that was as good or memorable as The Effing Foundation. So here we are!

12. What is your fundraising goal?

We are trying to raise $150,000 this year, which will let us make more grants and help build our organization's capacity for the future. Our stretch goal is closer to $250,000. (More specific time frame: $75,000 by the end of November and $150,000 by the end of May.)

13. What is the best way for people to donate?

Go to

www.effing.org/donate

! We accept PayPal, checks, credit or debit cards directly on our site, and more.

14. Can they donate in someone else's honor? Like a gift for the holidays?

That's a great idea! Unfortunately we don't have a way to do that on the website yet.

15. How do you feel when you inform people they are grant recipients?

Telling people that they've been awarded a grant is The. Best. It's absolutely the highlight of my year. I'm so excited, and they're so excited! And what's great is, it's really just the beginning of a new collaboration -- now we get to provide support and watch as grantees start doing fabulous things.

16. How can people get in ways?

My guess is this question is, how can people get involved?

- Sign up for our newsletter (www.effing.org/join) and follow us on social media (@Twitter, facebook.com/EffingFoundation)- Donate if you can.- Please help us spread the word! If you have friends who are into sex-positivity, please tell them about us. If you are doing sex-positive activism, or you know someone else who is, please check out our grant program (www.effing.org/grants).- If you're interested in running a fundraiser for us, or you have other skills to volunteer, drop us a line (info@effing.org).

17. What gap is the Effing Foundation filling? Is there anything else helping to fill this gap?

There are some awesome groups out there doing sex-positive education and activism, and activism in support of sex workers, and we hope you'll consider supporting them as well. Here are just a few to get started:

- Scarleteen (https://www.scarleteen.com/)

- The National Coalition for Sexual Freedom (https://ncsfreedom.org/)- The Center for Sexual Pleasure and Health (http://www.thecsph.org/)- Sex Workers Outreach Project USA (https://swopusa.org/)

Honestly, I don't know any other organization with a grant program that's supporting sex-positive art and education. And unlike a lot of grant givers, we don't require our applicants to have 501(c)(3) status or a fiscal sponsor -- literally anyone in the US doing sex-positive work can apply for a grant from us, and we absolutely fund folks who have never applied for a grant before.

[pjstafford]

The Bad Boy/Good Guy public personality dynamic of David Duchovny

Written as a birthday gift (with her blog prompt) for Charmion @grungekid84

Dedication: Charmion and I are of different generations; separated in age by over twenty years. I was the age she is now, about, when the X-files was new and she watched it first as a child. Yet today we share similarities in thoughts related to our celebrity crush. To both Charmion and David Duchovny I say, I hope this blog does the love the justice it deserves.

Why are women 20 to 70 years of age fan girls of the 59 year old David Duchovny? Not simply fans! Fans might watch a movie because an actor is in it. They might rewatch a series a half dozen times. Fan girls like Charmion have an Xfile room and paint pictures. Fan girls like myself write blogs, fan fic and team up with fan girls like Cathy Glinski to present at academic conferences. Why do women who have no other celebrity crushes have this need to celebrate this one celebrity in these ways? It seems significant to me the age range of women who are fan girls. I have stood in an audience surrounded by women barely old enough to meet the 21 age limit who knew every word to each of his songs. I heard one such woman say that this is an experience she would tell her grandchildren about. I, also, know women closer to 70 who have traveled to a meet and greet or comic con because they wanted the opportunity to thank this celebrity for the years of joy. Just today as I start to write this a woman I do not know tweeted @hearteyes4david an open letter to the world with a life wish to meet and thank this man. There are so many of us who just want to say thank you. And I won’t say none of us are not, but most of us are not crazy. We are lobbyists, store managers, attorneys, emergency room nurses, church secretaries of different ages and nationalities, many happily married, most normal women ( and some men). So many of us eager, compelled almost, to meet a single specific man and say thank you.

Some of it, people will say, is lust. Yes, it’s possible that if he was a less attractive man we would wish to thank him in person less. Still, can you truly look at the picture at the end of this blog and say his looks are so much more Adonis like than any other man? To say it’s purely a physical lust for a handsome man is dismissive of the intelligent, thoughtful women so moved to want to thank him.

His talent? “Sweet baby Jesus” he gave us Mulder and if that wasn’t enough, Moody. Whether he is playing a man who has lost his wife in Return to me, a drugged out doctor in Playing God, or a Russian operative determine to see the US nuked in Phantomn he makes every character seem so real that he gets a reputation for only playing himself. He is so good of an actor playing such diverse roles that folks can’t believe is truly acting. Still, I think most of us would just be fans and not fan girls if good looks and talent was all he had going for him

He is multi-talented and many love the rock star with romantic, heart breaking lyrics. For me, as I have often said, he is my favorite living novelist with three novels published and a fourth to come out soon. He writes intelligent, funny, heart breaking novels with an unique style and characters that again seem real (even the talking animals). In a recent interview he said something to the effect that his kids could read these novels and know who he was a man. I think that’s why I love his writing so much is because lyrics or prose they are authentic expressions of an artist’s personality; which brings me to Charmion prompt...the personality of David Duchovny.

I have met the man briefly a handful of times. I like the man I have met, but I can’t pretend to know more anymore than his public persona. I know how he comes across in interviews, what others who know him say about him, and all I can possibly gleam from his public art...from the things he has acted in and from his written art- the XFiles the Unnatural, the movie “House of D”, the novels, the lyrics, the distorted selfies in the mirrors reflections he tweeted when he used to tweet. This is how I know what I know about the man...and the fact that the few times I met him he was soft spoken, polite, humble and kind; taking time to answer my questions intelligently, joke a little and write kind words.

I know he is flawed. It is impossible to be a fan and not know about some of the faults which have been well publicized. As he himself says in my favorite of his songs, “I got skeletons in my closet which time ain’t forgot...”. They will never be forgotten. They will be included 20 or 30 years from now in his obituary. His flawed character is a fact, it has been aired, it is part of who he is.

I have written that what I love best about his writing is the combination of darkness and despair with the lightness of the human spirit and resiliency (mmm...the ability to believe?) rising out of darkness. He writes about the most depressing subjects on earth realistically and the fairy tale quality which rises to fill our hearts, to make us laugh and cry, is as real. It is either or both n amazing technique and/ or a result of a world view. I choose to believe it is the latter.

David Duchovny is no saint, but God Damn, he seems like a remarkably good guy with enough of a bad/boy mischievous side to make his personality as sexy as fucking itself. See how I just got a little different in my language there. David puts fucking in a book title, god damn in a song, gets bleeped on air record breaking number of times. God damn, fuck you if you think this is a man who is afraid to swear. He is not really Fox Freaking Mulder but he is David Fucking Duchovny

He is a good guy. He is intelligent. His ability to reference the high brow literary comes across in all his works. His second album title is from a Shakespeare quote. Walt Whitman shows up throughout his novels (and his dog’s tweets). He is well read, it quite well known. If you don’t get that reference, he would, as a Dylan fan and a fan of many other musical artists. He is also happy to talk about and reference sporting heros.

He is a bad boy. Oh, but the lowbrow humor! Early interviews have fart jokes, bathroom humor. He has a knack for intermixing the profane and profound. His novel, Miss Subways, has the elementary teacher leaving the classroom in tears when an assignment (write a letter to a Shakespeare minor character) results in an innocent boy reading “My dearest Fellatio...”.

He is a good guy. He is a romantic. He gave the XFiles fans the shippy Mulder and Scully baseball scene. He believes in his heart that Californication was at heart a love story. He writes lyrics for his ex wife who loves the rain saying “ It will always be raining in this song.” In his novel are real people having real sex type of scenes...no great erotica with flowing hair and heaving bosoms for this man, but discussion of lights on or off or an older couple off screen and an adult son hearing and embarrassed.

He is a bad boy. The man has no fear of nudity. . In his first movie he was filmed completely naked. In the commentary to the rapture he admits that he told the director he thought the character slept in the nude. (Hence the balls shot). It was his idea to wear the red speedo. He improvised the moonshot in evolution.

He is a good guy. He believes in causes. He volunteers and donates to protect the planet, for animal rights, for music education and for planned parenthood. His was the only story in over 200 XFiles episodes that truly dealt with racial injustice and segregation.

He is a good guy. In House of D the thirteen year old boy’s best friend is a forty year old janitor with special needs. He is a bad boy. That boy and janitor told each other a lot of pee jokes.

I can go on and on and on about the bad boy/good guy public personna of David Duchovny, but I am going to close with a subject that might tempt fate and bring forth the haters. I want to end with thinking about David and women.

In Red Shoes diaries David was in the forefront of the soft porn explosion. In an interview this year Brigitte Bako describes her experience in filming the movie as the “worst experience of my life”; but has nothing but complimentary things to say about David, how sweet and nice he was. They became close friends and she later appeared in an episode of Californication.

In Californication, David was the star of one of the raunchiest series in television history. Tits and ass, fucking and punching. I love the show but it would likely not be made today although, to be fair, it demonstrates women having agency over their sexuality. Nevertheless, actresses who appeared on that show have recently been asked what it was like. Over and over again they talk about how comfortable the environment was and how polite and respectful David was.

Much has been made over Gillian Anderson being paid half of David Duchovny’s salary. This is hardly his fault and something he argued against once he was made aware of it, but, as a fan of the show, I love hearing him talk protectively of Mulder and of wanting to protect that relationship. I love that he was responsible for rewriting an ending to one of seasons 11 episodes which end not with Mulder objectifying Scully and not with him in his under wear, but with Scully opining the door and him standing there. As David said, Scully being in control of her own desires.

Finally in Miss Subways, I find a female character written with such realism and authenticity that I have to go back to the 19th century to find a female literary character so relatable to me. She is a reader, beautiful to some men, a little eccentric in some ways, vulnerable, strong but without a great belief in herself or her talent. She’s just fucking real in a fucking real world despite being in a surrealistic fantasy novel with Irish banshees and African spider goddesses, parallel timelines and phones that can alter reality.

We, the fan girls, love this celebrity, David Duchovny because of his looks, his talent and his personality; because he is a bad boy and a good guy; because he inspires us, because he is flawed as we all are and goes through his life trying to be present in the day. For all the fan women who have yet to meet you, Mr. Duchovny, I say thank you and we love you, until they can meet you and tell you themselves.

Happy Birthday, Charmion. If you should meet him someday when I am not there give him an extra hug for me.

[dimensionsblog]

Due to recent events, it's time I told my truth: So, we'll start from the beginning, when everyone knew me as the new affiliate on his cell phone playing Pokemon. At this point, I had been open about being transgender and bisexual. Right before I got the email saying I was affiliated, I met someone that went by the username AutumnLittleByte. This is where shit gets real. This is your one and only warning as I'm about to be fully honest about what happened. 2 weeks after meeting Autumn, she informed me to check my donations. Lo and behold, she sent me my first ever donation of $20, this was meant to go towards the PS4 or Steam games if I so chose. Whichever path I wanted to take to improve my streaming even further. In concept, this sounds like a kind and generous gesture, but in reality this was her way of "getting in". When I found out she'd given me this kind gift, I cried. I was honestly shocked someone would do that just to try to help. At the same time, she'd joined my old Discord. I'll get into why it's old later, trust. When she joined, she asked if she could add me as a friend so we could message each other. It seemed so harmless I immediately said yes. How was I to know any better? This was my first donation and my first real time properly using Discord. So what happened? Well, it started out harmless, as I said. She sent a picture of the shiny Mightyena she'd just captured on Pokemon X to me, helped me make a channel just to post shiny Pokemon in, and subsequently posted the same picture in there. Again, harmless at the time. Two weeks later, we'd been talking privately and learning more about each other. Apparently she was also transgender, but male-to-female. She claimed she was 19 and currently in her first year of college. Claim being the HUGE KEYWORD HERE. Seemed innocent enough, and she even sent a picture of hersrlf to confirm it. With no context she honestly looked 19. But did she act 19? Honestly, she was a bit immature. But I merely attributed it to how I am. I'm a bit immature and I won't lie about that. 2 more weeks of talking and she asked me out. Me. Me of all people. I was kind of floored as I had openly admitted I had a crush on another streamer, but it was just that, a crush. Nothing else came from it and that streamer and I remain friends. Especially in my heart, as she no longer streams or has been on Twitch in over 2 years. Now, being in this situation, getting to know this person and thinking what she claimed was the truth, she honestly seemed very sweet and I wanted to give her that chance. So I stupidly said yes. A few weeks into the new relationship and it seems to be going well. By this point, I had been gifted up to Stormblood on Final Fantasy XIV and was also gifted 6 months of subscription for the game. So that was extremely exciting and I chose to play and stream it quite often to hang out with my friends. Well, she started to get real jealous, real quick. It kind of worried me how quick. She basically didn't like my friend, who I previously stated I had a crush on, and claimed she knew 2 people that did not like her for manipulating others. Okay...? But where was the proof in that claim? I didn't really buy it either, but I let it slide. If we rewind just a bit, she'd done something that I was already weary of. So, my first game I ever streamed on the PC was Black Rock Shooter for the PSP, I did it using the PPSSPP emulator and my Xbox 360 USB controller. All seemed to go well and we had no problems. She even made me an overlay which my friends decided to have a little fun with after I set it up with my alerts. Well, Autumn upped the ante by continually donating with my friends, which started a donation war. Until she grew mad that she lost, stole money from her roommate, and called my friend a stupid slut on stream. All these donations, plus a very generous donation from my friend Chris later meant I could purchase Christmas presents for my family for the first time in a very long time. It felt nice to give back, but I also wanted to be a good boyfriend. How? By...spending $50 on Toothless from Build-A-Bear. He had chocolate scent. Toothless was apparently Autumn's favorite cartoon character and her favorite smell was chocolate. I had it sent to her and so in response, I got pictures when she received it and she actually gave me 2 $50 gift cards for my birthday and Christmas. Seems nice right? This is when things started getting noticeably bad. I was told I couldn't make any purchases without her permission. Nor could I spend any money on my mobile games. Nor could I get anything for XIV at all. And to me, that was a bit controlling and weird. But I let it slide. Remember? No one ever claimed to like me like she did before. So, I let her walk me through what she wanted it spent on. I got several Steam games I honestly wasn't interested in and....Minecraft. Yes, I had to spend $25 for the modded Minecraft. This way I could play with her on her server. This just seems controlling though? Some people are like that. Not in this case. I still haven't fully rewound so you guys would know more. I do this a lot so I can explain things. Let's head back to my birthday in 2017: The entire week, I had been told time and time again by my girlfriend that she had sent me a package for my birthday. She claimed it included a very personal letter, a ton of Reese's candies, and two large Treecko plushies she'd bought for me, as well as a Treecko poster. For those that know me well, Treecko is my all-time favorite Pokemon. Well, she promised and promised and promised it was coming, and so I was heartbroken on my own birthday to find out it never came. She claimed it was lost and sent me a tracking number. The tracking number didn't exist anywhere, I tried multiple places. So instead of getting angry, I knew I had problems with my bipolar depression at that point, I asked her what the letter was about. To try and get some insight as to why she nay not have sent it. She told me it said that she loved me. And that she was scared of how fast she'd fallen for me. And according to her, it detailed exactly how she fell and why she did. The last time anyone said that to me, I was being catfished for money. I was shocked and honestly I had some kind of feelings but I wasn't sure what they were. So I said it back to her, but I was honest and she claimed she was okay with that. Now we return to the gift cards and Minecraft time. Oh boy. You probably can already tell where this is going, but it's my truth and this is how I choose to tell it. Anyways, Autumn had become not only controlling, but very clingy at this point. I told her several times that I was going to sleep or taking a nap in the previous week and she'd begun to act like I was avoiding her or leaving her. It was this behavior that manipulated me to begin with. I did everything I could to reassure her that I wasn't leaving her and I cared about her very much. Well, one night she got very upset with me. This was because I refused to do 2 things: Let her control me on Minecraft so she could play with her apparent ex at the same time and flirt the whole time I was there doing basically nothing but continually mining for gems and dying to lava, and I also adamantly refused to take nudes and send them to her. She'd been trying to get me to do that for a solid 2 weeks and I simply wouldn't do it at all. And that pissed her off. She called me, on Discord, apparently crying. Telling me I made her feel like shit and it was my fault. I had to beg and plead for forgiveness, for her to take me back, because I was so manipulated at that point I thought she was as good as I was going to get. She finally caved after me breaking down on the phone with her. Her claim at the time was that she never had anyone fight for her like I did, and it made her like me more. Sure it did. Mhm. Anyways, we continued to have stupid little arguments since. Mainly involving me being forced into Minecraft with her and her ex once again, me trying to play XIV with my friends that she didn't like apparently before I was gifted the game and subscription, or especially me saying no to nudes. A week before our final fight, I was actually finally able to relax and spend some time with my friends that she didnt like, but we chose to do it off stream so she couldn't snoop. I even hid myself playing games on Discord so she wouldn't know at all. Both were concerned. I didn't seem happy, or myself. It kind of seemed like I was bending to her will and it scared them. Tbh it scared me too. I told them I was scared, and I didn't know if I could leave without more problems. More problems? What do you mean? Well, the night before, obviously Autumn and I had gotten into another fight. In that fight, Autumn let it slip that she wasn't transgender, and also wasn't 19. She lied about both things to get with me, she was really 16 and apparently gender fluid. Meaning she didn't mind being addressed as male or female. It scared me because I had just turned 24, I didn't want shit happening to me because she lied about her damn age. What was worse was that she actually sent nudes in the hopes I would send her some in return. Which is why we always fought. I deleted her pictures and when they weren't in our messages anymore on Discord she got pissed and cursed me out. She would attack all my insecurities and use my bipolar depression against me as if I was trash for having it. Then I would get the blame for her having to be mean and set me right when I didn't do anything to deserve that in the first place. I'm not into nudes, it's not shocking I don't want them. Both friends encouraged me to leave her, my mother even begged me to leave her and I just...I couldn't. I was stuck in this rut. She was underage and could use that against me. I wasn't going to do any better, I was going to feel like shit forever and never be happy again. I legitimately believed this. Well, everyone around me did what they could to help me try to be happy in this shitty situation. So a week after relaxing, I decided to stream XIV again, but I twisted it so I could include Autumn. She'd gotten a free trial, so this way we could play and enjoy ourselves....so I thought. Autumn was ADAMANT about barring my friend from even playing the game. No Discord chat or game for her, that's what she wanted. No, I want her to talk to me and I want to play this game with her. That popped into my head immediately, a clear light in a seemingly endless realm of darkness. So I did, I added her to the Discord chat and Autumn lost her shit. "Xion what did I just fucking tell you? I said don't add her to the call." Immediately came out of her mouth, she knew she'd been caught right then and there trying to bar me from my friends and manipulate me. There's still the clip of me being "dumped" by finally standing up for myself. Finally. And they were so concerned they did something wrong that when the breakup was finalized, they cheered. And did everything they could to keep me smiling and happy that entire stream. So why now? Why tell us all of this now? Because abuse of any kind, it's never okay. It's not okay to defend someone like that for supposedly changing as well, especially if they victim blame as I have seen. I lived through 3 months of pure hell, never again. You are not alone. If you are being abused, there's always a light in the deepest darkness. You can break free and be happy, I believe in you.

[deeeelightfuldee]

Are you mad at your best friend right now? I haven’t a clue how to answer this. I’m really not close to Kile now. my other friends I’m not mad at.

Do you know anybody with a pet snake? ugh. yeah. I would never ever ever go to their house.

Do you buy your underwear in a pack or seperately? depends on where I buy the underwear. I’m tryin to replace all the ones I was gifted so it just depends.

Have you ever made fun of anybody and later became their friend? lol nathan i would rag on him only to his face, never behind his back. 

Is the lamp on in the room you're in? no. I have like twinkle lights on and a candle on.

Do you have a pair of shoes that you can only wear with one or two outfits? to be entirely honest I have to purge my shoes 

Is there any drink that you absolutely MUST drink cold? water, water, water

Did you sleep in past noon today? no. I typically sleep like 3-4 hours. Right now tho I take sleeping pills to try and let my body recover and i seldom do so until like after 1-2 am

Did your grandma ever tell you about her love life? once and she thinks its whats made her so bitter.

Have you ever painted anybody's nails aside from your own? yep. used to always paint my friends nails

Anything exciting happening in the month of September? moms bday! i love that!!!!

Who is your last missed call from? umm, honestly no idea. I’d have to look 

When was the last time you ate Frosted Flakes? man its been a hot minute

Did you ever NOT want a substitute in a certain class? never really had one 

Do you ever donate to the less fortunate? yes

Did you buy an American flag after 9/11 to put on your car/house/ whatever? Personally I did not because I did not have money I was a child, but my family had flags all over

Do you know any songs that are older than you are? of course

Are there framed pictures of you anywhere in your house? Yep. plenty. we like pictures here.

Compared to other people of your age would you be considered 'NORMAL'? normal? what is that even like 

Honestly, do you have any Hilary Duff on your MP3 player? I don’t have an mp3 but of course I have her on my spotify

Who is worst in your family about calling people back? MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. I hate phone calls unless its like mom or kile or someone I’m like into to lol

Do you like peanut M&M's? yes

When was the last time you had an ice cream sandwich? a long time. that was never really my thing but shoot now i want one

When was the last time you ate jelly beans? yikes a long time ago

When was the last time you had hot chocolate? last winter and I CANT WAIT for some now

Have you ever caught a friend cheating on their bf/gf? yeah

What was the last song stuck in your head? lol a song kara was singing

Do you enjoy doing math? I truly despise it.

Do you think your mom has secrets she’s never told you? not many. she knows I know her well

Do you own anything you don’t want your parents to know about? probably yeah

Do you pose in your pictures or just smile? both! definitely

Are there any colors you will NOT wear? the really like nude colored tshirts or like yellows/golds look rough on me I think.

Do you use scented soap in the shower? yep!

Did you ever want to be a fashion designer? no, not that I can recall. not my thing

Who was the last person you danced with? Enjoyable? my nephew lol of course it was enjoyable

Do you like convertibles? yes of course but I don’t want one every day cus of the sun damage 

Have you ever yelled at the television? plenty of times lol

How many songs on your MP3 player are about sex? who has mp3′s anymore. my spotify playlist has plenty of sex songs lol

Do you like water parks? they kinda freak me out

Dark or light colored jeans? dark

Can you take apart a computer and name all the parts? nope. def not

Can you take apart a car and name all the parts? um no but some of it

Would your friends describe you as nerdy? yes lol

How many different colors are you wearing right now? im just in a tshirt and panties at the moment. so pink and blue

Have you ever purchased a lotto ticket? yes

Are you double-jointed anywhere? nope

What is the longest amount of time you've spent playing Monopoly? a couple hours I think

Have you ever witnessed a tornado first-hand? yes but i wasn’t aware of it at the time 

Did you play in the sand box as a kid? my dad would have lost his mind. I really only ever did that at my friends house but her family let them put like gross stuff in the sandbox and i was pretty grossed out by it

How about on the monkey bars? I did like those

Have you ever made an alarm go off? probably yes

Have you ever colored your eyebrows? yup. my brows are naturally SUPER blonde. nothing wrong with that, i just prefer a darker brow

Did you ever own a pop-up book? yes

Have you ever honked at a biker? i am not sure, I doubt it. I seldom honk

Have you ever taken another person's prescribed medication? once a muscle relaxer cus my mom was like seriously you need this lol

Have you ever played golf (not miniature golf)? I mean like top golf and the driving range but not like a genuine 18 holes or anything

Do you use gel in your hair? not usually but I am curious to do so

Do you own a garden gnome? def not. kinda creepy

Are any of the rooms in your house painted blue? yes

Do you kick off your shoes as soon as you walk in the door? usually yes and then I switch to my slippers

Have you ever judged a book by its cover? oh im sure

What is the most effective device at the gym? I dont go to the gym

Can you drive a stick shift? I used to be able to but I wouldn’t trust it now

Have you ever picked on a substitute teacher? definitely not

How good are you at giving directions? I’m not always great at recalling street names but I’m very good at giving landmarks and general ideas of how far and such.

When was the last time you looked out the window nearest you? last week sometime. I keep them covered up because its too hot with sunshine in this room so all summer long I like to keep it cool

Have you ever got dressed with the windows open? absolutely. but it would be extremely hard for anyone to see into my room. not like i’d care

Have you ever given a foot massage? i dont like getting touched like that

Do public restrooms freak you out? not freak me out no, but i dont love it

Have you ever taken a shower outside? not that I can think of. I can’t imagine where I would have

Have you ever been to a junkyard? yes. my dad was a garbage-man for a long time so I was familiar

What do you think of Brad Pitt? no real opinion

Have you ever watched the History Channel willingly? yeah.. ehhh, maybe?

Have you ever used pennies to pay for something that cost over 50 cents? HA yes to my siblings 

If a place makes you pay for delivery - do you still tip the driver? yes

Without the aid of a cell phone - do you know your parents numbers by heart? yes. I have no reason to know my dads but its the same number hes had since I was a kid

Is your bedroom carpeted? no. I do have a rug down, but no not a carpet

Right now, what color is your tongue? pink?

When was the last time you had a Tootsie Pop? probably years ago

If you could get the cell phone of your choice - what would it be? i love my phone. this is like my dream phone. I’ll have to consider getting rid of it cus its kiles line but ugh. that stresses me out

Who is your favorite super hero? no real preference

How about your favorite villain? --

Do you know anybody who works at a bank? yepppppp i do

What do you usually order from your favorite fast food place? a chicken sammich on gf pita omfg its so good

Do you hand out candy to kids on Halloween? yeah mom is usually working so its me. I usually bake cookies and watch Christmas movies lol. but this year I have a broken oven

What perfume/cologne do you wear the most? right now very sexy nights

Can you name all 7 dwarfs? i always seem to miss like 2

Does the early bird really catch the worm? I think usually yes