#and i hate this the lighting is sooooo bad but i wanted to post

[artismonkeys]

what’s in my bag | 19.11.24

details below the cut ♡

[simplygojo]

Can't Remember To Forget You

author's note ⸺ I totally agree with you anon. This song does fit Toji sooooo well. I recommend listening to the song on repeat while reading, it really helps set the mood. Thank you so much for your kind words about The Devil He Made Me and my writing, and thank you for requesting!!  request ⸺ “Can I please request a smutty fic with Tojiiii? I was hoping you could base it on the song Can't Remember To Forget You by Shakira and Rihanna...I just think it fits him soooooo wellllll....Love your writing so much!! (Also obsessed with the devil he made me with Gojo <3) THANK YOU” - Anonymous pairing ⸺ Toji Fushiguro x reader word count ⸺ 3.3K content ⸺ 18+ Content, SMUT!, fingering, p in v intercourse, spanking, hair pulling, reader uses female pronouns, reader has a vagina, v aggressive sex, ur so down bad for Toji... ;)

materlist || request guidelines || commissions ||

You woke up with a start, sheets tangled around your legs, breath uneven. The faint light slipping through the blinds barely lit the room, but you didn’t need much to see the Post-it note stuck to your nightstand.

"Forget about him."

Three simple words scrawled in your own handwriting, a reminder you forced yourself to leave before bed, knowing how easily your mind wandered when you weren’t careful.

The sight of the note made your stomach churn, but not in the way it should have.

The words echoed in your head as you crumpled the note in your fist, tossing it aside.

You knew Toji Fushiguro was a problem. A criminal. A danger to everyone, including you. He was the kind of man you were supposed to run far, far away from. But every time you closed your eyes, it wasn’t fear you felt when you remembered him—it was heat. He had a hold on you—you’d never met someone so…different.

Even though your mind knew the truth, which was that he was an ass, your body remembered something else. 

Damn that selective memory, you thought. 

You sighed, trying to shake the thought, but you couldn’t escape it. You could only ever remember the way he felt inside you. The way he gripped your body so rough.

—

‘I can't remember to forget you…’

The first time Toji touched you, it wasn’t gentle. There was nothing soft or tender about him. He’d cornered you in an alleyway, his towering figure looming over you like a predator with prey. His smirk was sharp, full of arrogance and danger, like he knew exactly how easy it would be to have you. 

And in that moment—you hated how much you wanted him.

You could still feel the way his fingers had curled around your wrist, pulling you close with a rough tug, his body heat scorching against yours. His breath had been hot on your neck as he leaned in, that deep, gravelly voice of his laced with something sinful.

"You're shaking, y/n," he’d whispered, but the way his lips ghosted over the pulse point on your neck made it clear he knew it wasn’t fear. "Can't decide if you wanna run or stay."

You had wanted to run, but your body betrayed you, legs rooted to the ground as he pressed closer. The way his hands slid down your body was possessive as if he had already claimed you in his mind long before you could resist.

‘I can't remember to forget you…’

—

You groaned, tossing the covers off as you sat up, trying to shake the memory from your head. But it was no use. The way your skin burned just thinking about him only brought more moments rushing back, one after another, each one more intoxicating than the last.

His voice and touch were branded into your skin, impossible to forget. And even if you could, did you want to?

Toji was always rough, always urgent. His hands were large and calloused, dragging over your skin with a hunger that felt primal.

Every time you were with him, it was a fight—against him, against yourself. And every time, you lost.

You could still hear the low grunt he’d made that night, the way his mouth crashed against yours, all teeth and tongue like he couldn’t get enough of you.

His grip was tight, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pushed you back against the nearest wall. You remembered how he had pinned you there, his weight pressing into you, his lips travelling down your neck, biting and sucking until your legs gave out.

You shook the thoughts away and went to the bathroom to wash up. You splashed the cold water on your face, reaching lazily for your toothbrush and toothpaste.

As you brushed your teeth, you couldn’t help but watch your own reflection in the mirror. The bruises left by his lips still lingered on your neck, trailing down to your collarbone.

And your mind could not help but wander to that night, only a few days ago…

—

‘I can't remember to forget you…’

That night, the rain had been pouring outside, drumming loudly against the windows of your dimly lit apartment.

Toji hadn’t knocked when he arrived hadn’t bothered with pleasantries or words of warning. He had barged in like he owned the place, the weight of his presence commanding attention.

You remembered the way he’d closed the door behind him, his eyes locking on yours, dark and unreadable. There was something animalistic about him, something primal in the way he prowled toward you, like a predator cornering its prey.

His large hands were rough as they gripped your arms, pulling you close as he towered over you. There was no softness in his touch—only pure, raw need.

"Why do you always look like you're waiting for me to take you apart...hmm?" He had whispered, his voice a low growl against your ear. The heat of his breath sent a shiver down your spine.

It wasn’t a kiss meant to be sweet—it was possessive, consuming, like he was trying to devour every part of you.

His fingers curled into your hair, tugging hard as his other hand gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"You want this, don’t you?" he murmured against your mouth, his voice thick with arrogance and lust.

Your body betrayed you. Your mind screamed at you to push him away, to regain some semblance of control, but your legs felt weak beneath you, your hands instinctively reaching for him. The heat between your bodies was electric, sparking with every touch, every desperate kiss.

You could only moan in response, your body too lost in the sensation to form words.

The way his hands held you in place, the way his mouth moved over your skin, made it impossible to think of anything else but him—of how he made you feel, how he always knew exactly how to push you to the edge, only to pull you back with a sharp, knowing grin.

And as you gasped his name, as your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, you knew this was a moment you’d never be able to forget.

‘I can't remember to forget you…’

—

The memory lingered like a shadow, its intensity just as raw as the night it happened. Toji wasn’t a man who made you feel safe—he made you feel alive, in the most dangerous, reckless way possible.

No matter how much you tried to push the thoughts away, your body remembered. It always remembered.

You ran a hand through your hair, pushing it out of your face as you stood up from the bed, legs feeling heavy. 

The morning air was cool against your skin, but it wasn’t enough to douse the flames licking at your insides. You wandered toward the kitchen, hoping coffee would wake you up and make you forget about him, even for just a little while.

“I really need to practice the art of self-control,” you muttered to yourself as you opened a window to let some fresh air into your apartment. 

But you knew the truth: no matter how many times you tried to remind yourself that Toji was bad for you and that you should forget him, you knew you never would.

He was a permanent scar on your skin, a reminder of every time you gave in to temptation. The kind of man you knew was dangerous, but that danger had been exactly what drew you in.

You sighed, standing in the middle of your apartment, hands on your hips, eyes scanning the mess.

The dishes were piled in the sink, laundry strewn across the couch, and empty coffee cups cluttering the table. You hadn’t realized how much of a mess things had gotten.

Maybe that’s what happens when you let your mind get consumed by someone like Toji.

"Focus, y/n," you muttered to yourself, pushing the sleeves of your oversized shirt up your arms, determined to keep your thoughts from wandering.

You started with the dishes, running hot water and letting the steam rise, hoping it would help clear your head. The repetitive motion of scrubbing the plates, rinsing them off, and stacking them on the drying rack was calming, and mindless. You could almost let yourself relax.

Moving to the living room, you started gathering the clothes scattered across the couch, tossing them into a basket with more force than necessary.

The silence in the apartment felt too heavy, too full of the memories you were trying to escape.

You could almost hear his voice again, low and teasing.

"Miss me already?"

You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly as you shoved another shirt into the basket. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him, how badly you wanted him to bend you over like he did.

But it was there, undeniable, no matter how much you tried to fill your day with mundane tasks.

You turned to the coffee table, stacking the empty cups and sweeping crumbs into your hand. Your movements were stiff, hurried, as if moving faster would help clear your head. It didn’t.

As you wiped the table, you caught sight of something half-hidden underneath a book—a crumpled piece of paper. You hesitated before pulling it out, smoothing it flat.

"Forget about him." Another goddamn post-it note. 

The words from the note you’d written stared back at you, mocking. It was so simple in theory, but your body wouldn’t let you forget.

Every time you tried to push him out of your mind, he slipped right back in—like a shadow, always lurking just out of sight, waiting for you to let your guard down.

—

Later, as you sat on your couch, tea in hand, your phone buzzed on the table. You glanced at the screen and your heart sank when you saw the name.

Toji.

You stared at it for a long moment, fingers hovering over the screen as you debated answering.

You shouldn’t. You knew you shouldn’t. But your body reacted before your mind could catch up, thumb swiping across the screen to answer the call.

"Miss me, y/n?" His voice was a low purr, sending shivers down your spine.

You swallowed hard, heart racing as your mind screamed at you to hang up, to put the phone down and block his number for good. But all you could think about was the feel of his hands on your skin and the way he stretched you out just right. 

"I…"

You didn’t finish the sentence. You didn’t need to.

Toji laughed softly on the other end, and you could almost see the smug smirk on his face, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

"I’ll be over in 20 minutes, just collecting a bounty near your area." He said, voice thick with promise. "Don’t you try to forget about me. I want you ready when I arrive. "

The line went dead, and you stared at the phone in your hand, pulse quickening.

You knew what you should do—lock the door, turn off the lights, pretend you weren’t home.

But the memory of him was too strong, the pull too irresistible.

As you set the phone down and stood, a familiar heat began to pool between your legs. God, just the thought of him made you squirm. 

You’d try to forget later. For now, you knew exactly where the night was heading.

‘Oh here we go…’ you thought to yourself, crossing your legs in an attempt to quell the arousal you already felt. 

—

Your hand lingered on the phone, still warm from the call, as Toji’s words echoed in your head. “Don’t try to forget me.” It wasn’t just a statement—it was a command, one that you were powerless to disobey. 

You swallowed hard, glancing around your apartment.

The air felt heavy with anticipation, the minutes ticking by too slowly as you waited for him to arrive.

Part of you considered fighting it, locking the door, ignoring the inevitable. But it was pointless. Every time he appeared, you crumbled. 

Every time you swore it was the last, you ended up right back in his arms, a willing prisoner to your own desires.

The knock at the door came quicker than you’d expected, your heart skipping a beat as you turned toward the sound. The moment you heard his voice on the phone, you should have known better than to think you could resist. 

You crossed the room slowly, feeling the weight of what was about to happen pressing down on you.

Before you could reach the door, it opened, his tall figure waltzing into the room with no care in the world. "Didn’t expect me to wait, did you?" Toji’s voice was low, rough as his eyes scanned your body.

Toji leaned against the wall, that familiar cocky grin playing on his lips. His dark eyes locked onto yours, taking in the way you stood there, staring at him like you’d been caught in a trap.

And maybe you had.

"Told you I’d be here soon," he said, taking a step forward without waiting for an invitation, his broad frame filling the space as he slowly closed the space between you.

You should have stopped him—should have said something, anything, to slow him down—but the aching between your thighs grew unbearable, your body betraying your mind. 

His presence was overwhelming, intoxicating, and the tension between you two snapped the second his hand gripped your waist, pulling you close.

His fingers dug into your hips, his body pressing against yours with a possessive force that made your pulse race.

You tilted your head back, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment before his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was hard, demanding, full of the raw need that neither of you could deny. 

He didn’t wait for permission—he never did.

His hands moved over your body, sliding under your shirt, his rough palms grazing your bare skin as his fingers found your sensitive nipples and have them a hard pinch.

You gasped against his mouth in response, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as he pressed you back against the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat flooding your body. 

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a line of fire in their wake, his teeth grazing your skin where you were already marked, with enough pressure to make you moan.

"Sounds like someone missed me, hmm?" He purred against your throat, his voice thick with amusement, though he already knew the answer.

The way his hands roamed over your body, pulling at your clothes, left you too breathless to form words.

His touch was rough, unrelenting, and exactly what you had been craving.

Toji’s hands made quick work of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside before his mouth found your beautiful tits, his teeth sinking into the delicate skin.

You let out a loud whimper, your fingers pulling at his hair as you arched against him, desperate for more.

"What happened to wanting to forget me?" He rasped, his voice dark and low as his hands gripped your thighs, lifting you off the ground with ease. 

Your legs wrapped around his waist, your back pressed hard against the wall as he held you in place, with one hand around the front of your neck, his mouth colliding with yours, and his tongue entering your mouth with a hungry force.

Your pussy was practically throbbing at this point, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you pulled him closer, your body burning with need. 

The truth was, you didn’t want to forget. Not right now.

"That’s what I thought," he muttered against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force as he carried you to the couch, not even bothering to close the blinds to your large window [the neighbours def saw y'all fuckin] before practically ripping off your pants, his mouth never leaving yours.

The world outside ceased to exist the moment Toji pushed you down onto the couch, his body hovering over yours like a storm about to break. He was all you could see, all you could feel.

His touch was rough, his kisses demanding, and the way his hands moved over you left no room for doubt. 

He was in control—just like always—and you were more than willing to let him take what he wanted.

As soon as your skin came in contact with the cool leather couch, you felt the lace of your panties snap as his two fingers tore them from your body. 

And there you were: Toji hadn’t been at your apartment for 5 minutes yet, and there you were—completely naked, just squirming under his rough touch. 

He leaned down, hovering two fingers over your soaked pussy as his thumb circled your clit, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me you don’t want this.”

But you couldn’t. You didn’t even try.

Instead, you let your body speak for you, arching against him, your hands gripping his back as he moved over you, every touch sending another wave of heat crashing through you.

“God—You’re just fukcin' desperate for me.” He said darkly, his unlit gaze piercing your wide eyes before forcefully shoving his three of his calloused fingers into you, thrusting in and out of you roughly. 

His name left your lips in a desperate moan, your body responding to his in ways you couldn’t control.

And with that, he claimed you, every movement, every rough kiss, and every growl reminding you why you could never truly forget him.

Before you could respond, he lifted you up from the couch, removing his fingers and gripping your hips with an unrelenting force as he pushed you forward, bending you over the back of the couch. The fabric dug into your stomach, grounding you in the moment as heat flooded your body.

He gave your ass a rough slap, one that caused a loud cry to escape from your lips.

“You think you even could forget me, forget this?” He taunted, his one hand still dripping with your juices, caressing your ass. 

With his other hand, he swiftly undid his own pants, pulling them down just enough so he could fuck you. His long cock, dripping with precum, was positioned at your entrance, almost teasing you as you squirmed under him. 

"I don't think so," he rasped, his breath hot against the back of your neck as he leaned over you, moving your hair to one side of your face so he would still have a view of it. 

He entered you slowly, making sure to feel every inch of your warmth consume his hardened cock. You let out a pornographic moan, fingers gripping the edge of the couch as you felt him stretch you in every direction, his hands pulling your hips back as he pushed his into yours. 

Once he put his entire shaft in you, he groaned loudly before quickening the pace, the couch moving along with you.

His touch was rough, his fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to leave marks—a reminder that he owned this moment, and he owned you.

His rapid pace was causing you to see stars as he fucked you into oblivion. He leaned forward again, this time only briefly, to grab a handful of your hair to tilt your head back so he could see your rosy face.

“You look so good when you’re getting fucked by me.” He bragged as if complimenting himself, too. 

Your only response was a loud moan as his hands travelled down to your clit, massaging it with dominance.

The couch shifted under your weight, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body, closing the distance between you both. The moment felt thick with tension, electric in its intensity. 

Toji’s grip on your hair tightened, and his pace was dominating, his voice low and dark as he whispered, "You won't forget this."

And you knew he was right–Toji Fushiguro was a mistake you had no issues with repeating. 

You knew better—You knew you should’ve learned to forget him. 

But these days, you just couldn't remember to forget him.

author's note II ⸺ why is reader literally mute in this HAH

[only-the-impossible]

i really don’t know how tumblr works but i posted this brain dump analysis thread on twitter about nicki and his “i secretly hoped we would both fail” thing bc it’s sooooo yummy and complex and not what it seems on first glance and i wanted to add it here too 😁

it’s not him secretly hating or judging lestat, it’s a progression of his deterioration from “i am cursed and the heavens despise me but it’s not too late for lestat bc his soul is good and by being around him maybe there’s hope for me too

to

“i am pure evil and cursed to my core, there is no hope for changing that or salvation for me and i’m corrupting the person i love most just by being around him and that is risking his soul also becoming damned and the thought of that is devastating so i would rather push him away and get him to leave by being cruel to him; while also selfishly hoping that he could choose me and damn himself to be cursed to hell by staying and dying with me; the way we talk about being ‘companions in sin’, but hoping that could mean for eternity so that i wont be alone there, selfishly hoping that someone will choose loving me and my evil enough to love it to that end”

like there’s something specific in how nicki’s “hatred and judgment” he feels towards lestat is not that at all and it’s actually that he loves him SO much that it makes him hate himself more; a big reason nicki’s character and nickistat hurts so bad and is so doomed and compelling is that lestat loved him SO MUCH that that just solidified nicki’s fate/destiny to where there could be no denying that even the highest level of love could not save him from it

and nicki projecting hatred and judgement onto lestat was not actually about lestat, it was hatred and judgement towards HIMSELF that ended up being projected onto him bc ‘how evil of me to drag this good person into loving me and letting them hope that could save me and how silly of ME to believe that could cleanse me of my darkness and evil and that it could change my fate.’

he doesn’t and never could hate lestat, the fact that their love was so intense and big for eachother ultimately made nicki hate himself more bc yeah god really does hate him and wants him to suffer and it was stupid of him to even hope that he could make god love him by learning goodness and light from lestat

he believes that to have been him manipulating lestat into loving and hoping for him and that makes him hate himself even more bc “who was I, to dare and doom my beloved Lestat's soul to such a fate?Nicolas de Lenfent. Lord of Darkness, Lord of Sin.” (quote from my current fav nicki character analysis fic btw i’ll add the link at the end😈)

him trying to make lestat believe he hated him was a desperate attempt at saving him from the same fate, it was ultimately a legit (albeit complex and fucked) act of love,

i’ve also got a lotttt of thoughts about this specifically in regards to parallels of nicki/nickistat to dante’s inferno/francesca + paolo’s story bc a LOTTTT of tvc characters and themes and nicki especially have so much catholic religious influence in how they think and behave due to being raised under it and it’s horrible and wonderful and i can’t wait to write an entire essay about it :)

[littleweowmeow]

I see you repost a lot of pro zuko post in the last weeks and I wanted to ask, have you notice how much more anti zuko post have been posted in the last months ? I don’t usually mind zuko metas but the last ones I’ve seen are sooooo full of bullshit, they’ll claim things that didn’t happen in the series or misinterpreting things, to make him appear more villainous or more unredeemable ? kind of weird.

i do understand that the sudden rise of zuko’s hate comes from fanon zuko who’s basically a whole ass new character and certainly not canon zuko, but it’s seriously annoying. like I feel that this happens also with Aang. he also gets shit on by soooo many people for the wrong reasons, always citing things that didn’t really happen (or at least not like it’s usually cited) and… is the atla fandom seriously regressing ? how is it possible to misinterpret things like that in a children show. ofc atla is pretty mature for a children show, but it’s also not some Faustian bible with hours long needed interpretation to understand something.

Oh, of course I noticed. Actually, I used to be a fan of reading canon/fanon Zuko comparison posts, but then I realized something. The people writing such posts (mainly Azula Stans) just took advantage of the hype around canon/fanon Zuko, and the one they call the "canon" Zuko is actually not Zuko from the series at all. Seriously, Zuko is much cooler than all this. In fact, this is just a covered-up hatred in order to expose their favorite (Azula) better than she really is, because of incorrect characteristics and other bullshit addressed to Zuko. In general, the tag "anti Zuko" is blocked because I will not tolerate this diarrhea in my feed, but it continues to appear. This is not a criticism or discussion at all, so it's not worth paying attention to.

It seems to me that Atla fandom has sunk to the point that when I see a person saying the right and ironically obvious things, I almost idolize that person because damn it, is there really a person with brains here. What is happening in the fandom is either a special incitement to hatred for God knows what reasons, or people are really degrading at the speed of light. I know that a lot of hatred for Zuko stems from the ship wars (it's just ridiculous), but there is another point. Due to Zuko, it is easier to put your favorite in a more favorable light (it does not matter what specific example we are talking about) For example, this idea that Zuko is a bad firebender is a lie hammered into his head by his abusive father and the show actively refutes this idea. Some people just benefit from picking it up, it's something like "woooo Zuko is a prince and he's had the best teachers all his life and he's still worse than the "character name". Although this is a complete discrediting of the facts and not a desire to take into account the fact that Zuko's mental problems had a strong effect on his bending. And of course this nonsense about him being bad because he's not a child prodigy. There are many such examples, some of them have become considered canon. For example, that he is bad at firebending and stupider than the rest. Now there is really a lot of mischaracterization and humiliation of Zuko, but this is nothing more than a pathetic attempt to make their favorite seem better. It's just not worth a drop of time.

About Aang, I don't often see content with him, but my God, the reason for almost all of Aang hate is the ship wars. I may be wrong, because I have never participated in ship wars, so this is just a look from the outside. I'm sure that Aang hate reasons are almost the same as what I said about Zuko.

[abigaillazaar]

NEW YEARS CLEAN-UP 🎊

rules: unburden yourself from the abandoned WIPS collecting dust in your folder and share 5 gifs, then tag five people. tagged by @taiturner (love u legend) tagging (no pressure and with lots of love, sorry if you've done this already <3): @seance @gwenpendragns @ivashkovadrian @kitconnor @jakeyp @lespanaye @padme-amidala @ayoedebiris

kayyyyyyyyyyy i'll start now !!!

had this since january of last year for my gtkm but abandoned it bc i hated the coloring but honestly it's not even that bad..........looking at it now...............hmmm...

taylor edit when the i can see you mv dropped and i finished it too but then i was like..........but sooooo many people giffed it with it's time to go lyrics idk i got scared

had four drafts of this one gif i wanted to D*e and then i gave up but i miss yenbrina they are it for me

another kat edit but for vampweek day 1 but i chickened out and it's too late now bc nina's...............anyway....i don't condone her and i. haven't liked her since like 2017 but she plays my all time favorite character so if i end up finishing and posting remember this.

dude this one made me want to stay in gifmaker retirement i tried so hard but holy hell i hate typography and i hate shots with light/white backgrounds these cinematographers want me dead in a ditch

anyway that concludes it!!! that was fun love you guys <3

[localfanbaselurker]

First time watching Voltron: Legendary Defender and documenting my thoughts

This is Season 4

S1-2 | S3 | S5 | S6 | S7 | S8 |

———————————————————————

<this one is going to be shorter, as I have only recently finished this season, and the grief is still fresh (lol), so the thoughts are only just starting to simmer. strap your asses in>

Pre-Season 4 Thoughts

-> Keith joining the blades is going to be a huge plot device, I feel

-> PLEASE for the love of CHRIST let that poor little girl find her brother and father. If they are dead dreamworks better be ready to catch these hands

->I’ve heard people claim this is the “last good season”, but i stay strong 💪 and will watch till the end

->wouldn’t the paladin switch not make sense now? Cus shiro is back as the black paladin and it makes no sense for Lance to be red like it originally had? If anything, he should’ve gone back to blue, and Allura to red, because Allura is very accepting/encouraging of shiro’s role as leader. I guess they didn’t wanna do it all over again. But I digress 🤷‍♀️

->im gonna miss my Pookie (🤍❤️🤍)

Post-S4

->do they do this every two seasons?? Have an epic battle where they have a big preparation and say it’ll 100% end the war but it doesn’t and something crazy happens after they win and it sets up the next season??

->FUCK YEAH PIDGE GOT HER BROTHER BACK IM SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP 💪💪🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️🙏🙏🙏🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

->^genuinely cried so hard during this scene. would’ve cried more if I wasn’t recovering from the initial shock.

->^cried during this one too, but it was happy tears. I could actually just do a whole reaction post to this episode alone. (if you want me to js say so in the rbs/replies)

->the callback to s1! “color-coded of course, because what are we? animals?” AHHH! I’m going insane I love these siblings sooooo much

->okay I’ll stop gushing over them now

->^only valid reaction to meeting Allura. Homegirl is beauty incarnate

->I LIED. im not sorry im never shutting up about them. SHE SHOWS HIM AROUND THE CASTLE AND TELLS HIM EVERYTHING AND EVERY DETAIL AND SHES SO EXCITED CUS SHE JUST GOT HER BRO BACK AND IS JUST RAMBLING ABOUT HER NEW HOME AND ALL THE COOL STUFF SHES BEEN DOING AND HES JUST LISTENING AND IS SUPER EXCITED WITH HER AND ITS SOOOO AMAZING AND ADORABLE AND I COULD DIE

->AND THEN HE TELLS HER HOW THEIR DAD WOULD BE SO PROUD IM DYING IM LITERALLY DEAD STOP.

->AND AND AND THEY WERE ALL WORKING TOGETHER W HUNK TO MAKE THE GALRA TRACKER THING AND THEY WERE BEING SO COOL WITH EACH OTHER AND BEING NERDS TOGETHER AND AND AND AJEUWNDUWJEBEURBDGWUDKAODHD

->okay. ive calmed down. i am normal and can be trusted to simply watch a show.

->^Get his ass, Zarkon. I needed his smug ass to be humbled so bad. Only time I will agree w Zarkon fr.

->i do NOT like Lotor. Can you guys tell already??

->THE SCENE WHERE THEY TRIED TO GET MILKSHAKES AND WERE SHOCKED TO FIND OUT THAT YOU NEED TO MILK A COW STOP.✋ 😭. My high-score on the giggle-meter went up by 300%

->bro I SWEAR shiro looks different. there’s just something about him. the hair gets a pass cus how good of a haircut can you give yourself in space, yk? but that nose scar is definitely a different shade #notmyrodrickshiro

->THE VOLTRON SHOW.

->^Just. That entire episode. It’s getting a whole post actually I need to yap about it.

->^her armor is colored in a way which makes it look both pink and red while making it look like a trick of the light in a way to symbolize that she is acting as keith yet while being a paladin herself and that being unknown in the public eye and showing how they have to cover that up, any suspicion being thrown as a trick of the light. Oh vld animators ily 🫶

->on another note tho why do they always draw lance and shiro to have 30 pounds of ass. what.

->loved when those lesbians decided to take down lotor. Queen shit 💋 we stan 🙇‍♀️🙏

->Lotor is so stupid and pathetic and annoyingly smug and sus and admiral-zhao-y and I hate him but he’s SOOO FREAKING HOT and I can’t hate him completely because he’s so attractive but that just makes me wanna hate him more. He’s a walking red flag but the flag is heart-shaped and honestly idk what to do w that.

->^WHAT. stop. honestly that’s the real reason he was banned from the empire my ass would not want that fucking FREAK within a 30 light year radius of me either

-> while s3 was the klance season, s4 is apparently the allurance season, they have a lot of sweet moments. (granted all started by lance but still, you can almost see allura swooning)

->^pookie. what are you doing… pookie.. no. stop. i don’t like where this is going…

->^POOKIE NO. STOP. ✋ STOP. SAY SIKE RN.

->^oh thank fuck for Lotor.

->^^wait what. why Lotor.

->^^^heartbreaking: worst person you know doesn’t something good for once.

->he definitely wants something out of this. I don’t trust him.

These are thoughts I’ve had compiled for some time now. I will continue to post my thoughts on the tag “laura’s first vld”

I finished this season on 06/30/24. I am on S5E3 as of today (07/06/24)

[fictionkinfessions]

[Fandom this post is about: «“Persona 5”» / «“Persona 5 ROYAL”»]

[CW: Swearing, Shido mention, Kamoshida mention, caps on some parts.. probably some more stuff but I have no idea as to what they are. Neglect and being an outcast, I guess??]

[WARNING: This post (probably) contains some light spoilers for «“Persona 5 ROYAL”», please read at your own risk!]

❂——✧——✧——✧——✧——✧——✧——✧——❂

Canon style : I guess the being somewhat blind and having the same thing on for like half of the day at minimum carried on to this life 😞 unfortunately for me, I still have to wear glasses, but at least I still have my ス(←su)タ(←ta)イ(←i)ル(←ru)！！(Translation: Style) (Apparently knowing japanese partially carried on to here, too..)

❂——✧——✧——✧——✧——✧——✧——✧——❂

Opinion differences: Honestly, back then I didn't really mind how my parents literally just sent me off somewhere where I didn't know anyone and with a guy I didn't even know either, how much people talked about me at school or how teachers seemed to irrationally hate me, I kinda thought I may have deserved it in a way, I guess? And I don't really blame anyone for being wary of me, cause all they knew was that I had assault charges, but come on.. "they say he carries a knife, gets into fights, and KRILLED someone!!1!11!" WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?? I swear, people made CRAZY rumors about anyone back then..

On a more serious note of what I think about it now, I'm really just realizing how utterly awful all of that was, and it's maddening, in a way. Was it really so bad to help someone who was gonna get harmed by some twisted asshole? Maybe said guy was asking for me to “““hit him””” by being a whiny bitch?? Sorry for my language, but like.. I DIDN'T EVEN PUSH HIM SO HARD?? Man must have been a theater kid or a football player in the past because he was SO SO dramatic.. and Kamoshida.. gosh, that guy was SOOOOO entitled, and he hated me just because I existed. God forbid someone comits the ATROCIOUS crime of being in the presence of the “““““allmighty Kamoshida””””” 😒 so glad Ann and Ryuji got to show that thing the meaning of karma, though!! Deserved, truly.

Although, all of this makes me wonder what would have happened had I not met Ryuji on my first day at Shujin.. best not to think about it too hard, but I really want him to know I appreciate him a LOT. Most of the stuff that happened in my canon and source canon were because of him (in a good way), so he better not just be generic comic relief #11037 to everyone else :( Most of the time I never understood what Morgana's beef with him was, though.. psst psst, if either of them is seeing this.. pls tell me, I need to know why you two were constantly getting on eachother's nerves in the span of 2 seconds 😕

— #❂🥞🐈‍⬛✮ (✧Ren Amamiya✧ | ❂Akira Kurusu❂ | ♧“Joker”♤ fictive + fictionkin)

(I love organizing and decorating stuff like texts with symbols or stuff like that even if it's not necessary so so much.. it's a need for me atp.. kinda wish I was this way with school too 😞💔)

x

[papirouge]

I think it's weird that that Irish guy compared women reading erotica to men watching porn, when a more apt comparison would be men reading hentai. Like both written erotica and hentai are bad for the soul, but don't have any victims outside of the reader and writer (out of their own will, but victims in a way). None of these have actors drugged up so they can perform very humilliating acts and risking STDs, pregnancy and UTI.

Plus I hate when people try to equalize what men and women go through. Like, most people who watch porn are men (including some Christian ones, lets be honest here), and porn its literally catered to their fantasies. It's messed up when women stumble upon porn too because they are being fed degrading male fantasies that they might think its normal het sex, and might feel pressured to perform (many girls already admit to this). But then, I guess het porn is so depraved and male centered that somehow womens most watched category is lesbian porn (most of them being straight women). I think its weird he points out to porn with no women involved, because while that its true and bad in itself, het and lesbian porn are far more popular than gay porn. Like this are just facts that can be looked up.

Not to mention that most degrading and horrible acts are performed on the woman, and when its on the male its the bottom in gay porn. They are usually the ones getting choked, spit on, having semen thrown on their faces or being forced to swallow it, being the receiver on anal, having proplapses, being fisted on the vagina or anus, and so on. Its all based on violence and simply focuses on male pleasure. No gentle caressing for the women, or comfortable digital sex, or cunnilingus. Not that Im saying these things shoiuld be included, all porn should be erradicated, but the viewer watching this might expect their sex life to go the same way.

Also, I think its weird this same guy who wants to paint men and women on the same light as culprits on the sex industry, does not care to mention or see women who watch porn as victims and how it affects their self esteem and sex life, only the poor men and their ED and lack of motivation and incel tendencies.

This dude is sooooo corny and annoying ; he really think he's a Nice guy just because he's against post and agrees prostitution is a form of rape. Big deal. Congratulations for doing the bare minimum I guess?

And he won't make the comparaison with hentai bc the imbalance of male vs female consumption would be even more glaring. Hentai is an industry entirely dedicated to male. There's no female hentai author. Female author making drawn porn are either doing yaoi or yuri (although yuri made by women is closer to erotica than porn - you can easily clock yuri made by men because it's very male gaze-y). And you'll notice that either in yaoi or yuri, are the protagonist dehumanized like in hentai. Yaoi is infamous for sloppy toxic 'love' relationship, but there's still a storyline (tbh some yaoi characters can address interesting/deep issues such as repressed homosexuality, late blooming, etc.). In hentai, the female is treated like a sexual OBJECT with no substance whatsoever. I always said japanese male author were some of the worst are writing female characters and I stand by this word. Most iconic female manga characters were written by women. Period.

Even erotica isn't as bad as porn in male representation: men aren't reduced as "holes" to be "f*cked", and degraded into sex objects to be disposed of.... So even if we can agree exposing yourself to sexual content is ALWAYS spiritually damaging, the fact he removed any of that nuance to his statement lumping porn and erotica together was highly suspicious....

I mean the simple fact he lost his tits the moment people (bc I wasn't the only one) told him porn and erotica didn't have the same impact is everything you need to now about how his statement wasn't about acknowledging the damage of erotica, but rather equalizing male & female consumption of sex as an "entertainment", because men collectively have an extremely hard time to take accountability without trying to rub it onto women.

Remember that post I made a while ago saying some good Christian men on Tumblr pretended caring about radfem calling pro life and tradfem "pickme" and how "misogynist it was, and me pointing out that they actually didn't care about misogynist slurs directed at women, but pretended to do so to diss other women? Because when men defend women it's only to shove under the bus other women. That's precisely what he did there. That irish guy did the same by pretending caring about female consuming erotica...but what's interesting, is that to defend his shitty take, he suddenly got like "we don't speak enough about MALE victim of porn consumption ". See what he did there? He ultimately outed himself by straight up admitting he did all of this because of the poor male victims of porn consumption. Interestingly, in none of his posts he extended the same compassion for women who are reading erotica and who, following his own logic, are victims too. He ultimately only shown himself dragging women down to assimilate them to male pattern mediocrity (disingenuously lumping erotica as something as much damaging as the IRL porn industry), and elevate young boys as victims. Typical.

[livinglifeonpause]

Build Up: Final One

- oh shiz, this episode is 2 hours?? I hate watching live shows, but at least my babies Seunghun & Jeup are in it. - awwww, somebodys Umma's there crying already! - Bain looks good with that hair - why does my baby Donghun just never have clothes that fit? - mf'ing like :30min in and NOTHING HAS HAPPENEDDDDD WATERFIRE V4: Sunyoul (27) (UPT10TION) 2 > 2 > 6 > 6 > x ( V12: Wumuti (24) (Solo?) 8 > 6 > 7 > 6 > x ( V7: Kang Hayoon (20) (Loud) 7 > 5 > 5 > 2 > x ( V17: Choi Suhwan (22) (X101) 3 > 4 > 7 > 9 > x  - for me, Suhwan > Wumuti >> Sunyoul >>>> Hayoon. - Hayoon's voice doesn't blend and I don't like that at all. it's jarring in a gross way. - it was fine and the song was fine. Like 6/7. - ew. Jaehwan. I would not bang you with those long ass nails like that. why dont stylists catch that kind of shit? PARTNERS V34: Park Jeup (30) (Imfact) 8 > 10 > 8 > 8 > x ( V20: Lee Donghun (30) (A.C.E.) 6 > 10 > 8 > 7 > x ( V3: Bain (22) (JUST B) 9 > 6 > 6 > 7 > x (orange hair) V11: Jeon Woong (26) (AB6IX) 3 > 4 >4 > 5 > x ( - UHHHHHHHHHHH, can you imagine Jeup as a casual cafe worker? Looking all sexy like that? pssssht. - but also that breaks my heart. Imfact deserved so much better. - in fact, so does A.C.E. (and CIX) - hahahah, Jeup saying "Jesus Christ" like that will never get old - also, I like when Jeup gets comfortable enough to be loud and goofy. I wish we got to see more of that in the programme. - again. WHY BAEKHO? get Bumzu up in there. Baekho ain't it. - Bain, baby. It's kinda hard to empathize with you wanting to debut with this team sooooo bad when you're currently on a world tour. - this isn't a good song.... - SO. Lets debut Jeup and Donghun, then lets debut Chan and Jun from ACE - OH! there's junnie! in the glasses. Also the Ab6ix kids I don't know and BX and Channie! - these subs are awful. WTF is Solar saying to them?? HUN-MIN-JAY-BIT V2: Jay Chang (22) (ONEPACT) - 8.5 > 8 > 10 > 5 > x ( V36: Bitsaeon (28) (M.O.N.T) 5.5 > 3 > 10 > 5 > x ( V1: Seunghun (24) (CIX) 4 > X > 7.5 > 8 > x ( V39: Kim Minseo (21) (nothing) 4 > 4 > 5 > 6 > x ( - haaaaaaa! they showed Solar's shit for the producer example but not the Jaehwan song! - ighhhhhh, Seunghun grinning at Eunkwang like that! - Eunkwang just makes shit fun! asking them all individually. - Jay Chang is SUCH a fuck boii. - fuck you Jay Chang's voice. like damn. And fuck your foundation that's too light. - we only half way through and they're done singing. WTF we gonna do for the 2nd half? - the fuck did Jay randomly punch Minseo for? - oh look! Yonghee next to BX! - haaaa! poor Suhwan! Jeup did him dirty!!! but not really, Jeup's pretty pure, so I get him scheming. Like with the tea. He didn't want the camera time, he genuinely wanted to try the healthy tea. - Wumuti "doesn't want attention" psssssht! - okay, his little gay look before he answers his question is adorable. that feels real. - Jeup said "I'm not an easy person to be friends with" fuck. where is that one homie who did the personality things for the kids on The unit. I'd looooove that. https://theunit-mbti.tumblr.com/post/170622967698/the-unit-mbti-jeup-mbti - Suhwan seems like such a sweetie though! I guess he's a dick in real life! - awwwwwwwwwww, I want more truth or dare! - omg, it took me until the 2nd card to figure out why they have a "random" cut out of Bain just chilling there. - idk what the fuck Jeups laughing at, but I love his "ha hah ahha ha" laugh. omfg. - awww, Jay actually looks nervous when homegirl announces the results! - I want the moms to have labels. "Jeups Mom" If that's her with his sign, she doesn't have a wedding ring?? - as much as I want this for Seunghun and to see more of Jay, and even though I 100% want this for Donghun. I WANT THIS FOR Jeup MOST! :'( - Jay Chang crying FOR REAL! awwww! - Seunghun's like just chillin! ha! - Seunghun telling Jay to say it in english. Smart man!

yay BDU! stan Jeup though!

[bodytoflame-ao3]

twas tagged by @coraniaid, here i am

How many works do you have on Ao3? 77

What's your total Ao3 word count? 245,927

What fandoms do you write for? Buffy/Angel, Person of Interest, Percy Jackson, dabbling in Yellowjackets….

What are your top five fics by kudos? you’re the only thing that i think i got right  yall thirsty sunnydale anonymous ate served deserved! my baby!!! if you ask how I'm feeling tonight (baby nothing could make me feel bad) literally just genderbent Percy judo flip scene and they ate it up! the world keeps turning my first wlw percabeth fic….. and they were roommates percabeth one-shots what it says on the tin. this list is soooo skewed by how big this fandom is lmao. 

Do you respond to comments? yes they bring me serotonin ☺️

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? haaaaas to be a tie between the insane post wilderness Shauna fic and the inbetween 5x09-10 POI fic! i can go anywhere i want (just not home) entr’acte

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? move with the tide marriage proposal!

Do you get hate on fics? no! I’ve gotten some weird comments of people trying to like nudge me in one direction story/character wise but I pretend I do not see it and frankly it makes me want to do the opposite of that

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? i really only feel motivated for it if it makes sense within the greater story I’m trying to tell. my work is really heavily based in character dynamics so it definitely does feel like the right move at times, but I generally don’t like to stay there too long and don’t tend to write with a ton of detail. i tried to write a pwp once and it ended up 10k+ words with a plot.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written no but during our leverage rewatch the cursed idea of the person of interest team getting all the leverage team’s fake identities as numbers while they’re trying to con finch was dreamt up. and i think someone should write it.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? not to my knowledge?

Have you ever had a fic translated? I had someone ask and I said yes so….. probably?

Have you ever co-written a fic before? WAY back in like 2013 I collaborated with someone on a House of Anubis fic in FFN dms that never saw the light of day hahahaha. i'd love to do it for real.

What's your all time favorite ship? It’s Root/Shaw and it’s not even close!

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I have about 30k written of a Buffy post-series fic/Angel s5 rewrite that I’m absolutely infatuated with but it’s sooooo biting off more than I can chew. 

What are your writing strengths? Dialogue literally just dialogue baby!

What are your writing weaknesses? can i say long covid lmao cause long covid lmao. kicking my ass. jokes aside my current weakness is being exhausted by html code, and the middle point of stories.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? i am not fluent enough in anything to trust myself to do so lmao

First fandom you wrote for? Ojamajo Doremi! Waaaaaay back on the 4kidstv forums when I was 8. shoutout 4kidstv fan fiction forums.

Favorite fic you've written i can't hide from you like i hide from myself im a SUCKER for soulmates and also s7 fuffy. chefs kiss i loved writing this.

Tagging: i think this has hit everyone i know here expect @displayheartcode

[uncouth-the-fifth]

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

_

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

_

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

_

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

[kariokiipeaches]

I did it!

I really actually did it!

I drew part of the elevator scene in Chapter 4 of Poor Little Meow Meow on Ao3!

The idea of Killer being a smug-as-f*ck asshole (even going as far as saying “you’re welcome”) after destroying the elevator panel was HILARIOUS and stuck with me even after Chapters 5 and 6 were released/added to the story!

It was something I HAD to draw and have a visual of, lol.

Here’s 63 layers of Killer, and 30 layers of elevator!

FUN FACTS!

•I hate drawing shoes when legs are crossed!

•his legs, shoelaces, socks, the ring in his SOUL, and the top of his head are all different shades of white, even though you probably can’t tell without zooming in a WHOOOOOOLE lot!

•I had to cut Killer up (heh) a bunch of times to fix his proportions (first he was too wide, then his torso was too long, then his jacket was too wide, then his arms were too long for his new body, then his arms were too thick and puffy)!

•this started out as my oldest child posing the way I wanted, and I traced the photo to get all the areas that would be shaded in marked!

•Killers body was drawn, re-sized, and colored in one piece of art, and then he was cut (heh heh) out and pasted into a whole other artwork so that I could fit him in the elevator background the size I needed him!

•I must have attempted close to 30 times to try to get the sparks right, and I’m still not completely enthused (but I’ll tell ya, it makes the time-lapse video of this artwork being made [posted on my YouTube - link to video below] kinda spectacular and look like it’s actually sparking, so whatevs)!

I could NOT decide for the life of me where to put the text, how much text to add, or if I even wanted to add text in the first place, soooooo THAT was a nightmare (no, not nightmare with a capital “N”). That’s why I’m posting a couple versions of it for your viewing pleasure!!!

And yeah, I know it’s kinda dark in the elevator, but in the story it said the lights were flickering, so I muted the colors so it would reflect that easier. IT’S ARTISTIC LIBERTY, GIMME A BREAK!

I ALSO heard, maybe, possibly, probably… that another person may have helped to work on ideas for the elevator scenario… sooooo shoutout to both @lady-of-disdain (the author) and to @calcium-supplement for instilling upon me this brain-rot that refused to go away until I could puke-out a decent image. Go support them!

It’s kinda funny which parts of a story stick out in every individuals mind… and this was just one of them for me.

I can’t WAIT to draw more for this story! I’ve still got ideas, and you just keep adding MORE ideas with every chapter you release!

Wanna see what it took to draw this?

Check out my YouTube!

Wanna read the story?

Check out Poor Little Meow Meow!

Wanna see what I’m drawing next?

TOO BAD.

I’M NOT TELLING.

[melo-yello]

✨Self-Care Day✨w/ 💥🪨KiriBaku HeadCanons💥🪨

Off Day

💥🪨 You’re hanging upside down on the couch in your shared apartment with a boyfriend on either side of you. Kiri’s hand in yours while Baku’s had one hand on your thigh and the other scrolling on his phone as some cartoon drones on the tv

💥🪨 This is not how you envisioned your first free weekend into the last two weeks going



💥🪨 You sigh loudly before poking out your bottom lip “Suki? Eiji? I’m bored.” you pout dramatically as you throw a hand onto your forehead before you continue “Can we do a self-care day?”

💥🪨 Baku just grunts in affirmation as he stretches before standing. Kiri just smiles “Of course, Pebble. Whatever you want.”

💥🪨 You pop up pecking both guys on the cheek as you bounce off to the kitchen with Kiri’s hand still in yours “Thanks you two are the best!I’ll make tea!!!”

💥🪨 “And don’t you forget it!” Bakugou smiles popping your soft ass as he follows behind most likely to micromanage

💥🪨 You three chat about your week not having much time outside of courses to really talk. Between studying, training, and hero work you guys just didn’t have a lot going of free time.

💥🪨Per usual you and Kiri really carry the conversation Baku only chiming in ever so often to offer up things that he hates

💥🪨 You pop up remembering one of for favorite parts of a good ole fashioned treat yo self day. The cute headbands for you and Kiri to push your hair out of your faces. You return with a pink bunny one, a brown Teddy Bear one, and a plain black headband. Baku takes the black and Kiri takes the bunny.

💥🪨 “How do I look, Peb?” Kiri smirks flexing to show his broad ass built ass frame after putting on his bunny headband. “Ridiculous.” “-ly Hawt!” You laugh correcting Baku

💥🪨 You film in absolute awe as your Manly bf’s pierce Suki’s ear with ease after the off handed joke you made sipping tea. Cue Baku voguing it up with pride and a freshly pierced ear. Bakugou is slightly leaner and a couple inches shorter but just as toned

💥🪨 “Suki, Eiji, you are too manly!” You hype your man up as you post the video to your IG story

💥🪨 It’s your turn now!! Kiri easily pierces your ears with a red stud in your right and an orange in your left. Adding a second set of holes right above your first ones

💥🪨 Next comes high quality and novelty animal face masks Bakugou buys online to compliment his vigorous skin care routine. It rivals half of the YouTube Beauty community’s

💥🪨 Niether of you have any idea of where he buys them or where he hides them for that matter. He stores them away so you guys can’t steal them when he’s not around. Bakugou allows you and Kiri to use his masks on special occasions tho

💥🪨 “Mr. and Mrs. Dumbass.” He smirks handing you a frog and Kiri a tiger. Earning him a playful jab from you and “A Thanks, Babe.” from the red head

💥🪨 You suggest nail 💅🏾 polish next and Kiri is automatically on board. “Oooooo can you make them Red, Babygirl? Because they’d be so manly!” Kiri beams bouncing up and down. Baku will only allow his middle fingers painted. “I want white with bombs or just F U. Whichever is easier for you, Teddy Bear.” Bakugou nods scrunching up his nose from behind his own red panda face mask.

💥🪨 Kirishima’s nails are a simple sparkly red that say 🤍BITE MANLY in white while Bakugou’s middle fingers are white with black bombs with an orange F U on each one respectively

💥🪨 After you peel off your masks, you and Kirishima squeal in nearly perfect sync “Oooooooooooo! Sooooo Soft! Aren’t we hawt, Bakubro! Seeeeeeeeeee!” Both of you placing his hand on your faces

💥🪨Bakugou will just roll his red eyes into the back of his head as you two wrap him in a tight embrace “I’ve told you idiots a thousand times the importance of regular skin care with quality products.” He shrugs nonchalantly even thought he loves when you two are touchie with him. He hates to admit it

💥🪨 As you begin to search you nail kit for your preferred color, Kiri grabs your hand and presses it to his cheek “Can we do yours, Pebble?” He pouts. Bakugou follows suit grabbing your other hand “Pretty please, Teddy?” He whines firmly pressing your hand to his heart.

💥🪨 You buckle so fast it’s not even funny. “Bbbbbbbut...😤😖😞fine.” You concede

💥🪨These two really know how to put on the charm. Especially if Bakugou Kasuki is calling you Teddy instead of Dumbass.

💥🪨 “Great! Y/n, pick out a show to watch before we start.” Baku barks handing you the remote. “Why?” You question snatching it and putting on Criminal Minds. Simply thrilled you were getting to pick (Typically there were mini competitions for such a privilege)

💥🪨 “You’re judging, Bighead. You can’t look til we’re done.” Kiri hums thoughtfully trying to pick a good color combination. Baku already had his colors hidden in his lap before scouting so his hip was against yours sure to obscure your view of your own hand from you.

💥🪨 “Yea, no bias. When I win it’ll because I’m the best! Isn’t that right, Shitty Hair!” The ash blonde smiles cockily at the red head across from him. “In your fucking dreams, Spark plug!” Kiri spits backs just taking all the colors and copying Bakugou’s positioning

💥🪨 “If either of you fuckers, get those polishes on my favorite jeans there’ll be hell to pay.” You warn with a sinister tone to rival even Katsuki’s and the widest smile. The boys shiver at the seriousness behind your smile. Your threat is far from empty

💥🪨 You pretty much figured your nails would probably look terrible with each of your vividly different boyfriends competing with each other. “What do you, dorks, even get for winning?” You muse leaning into Kiri’s broad ass shoulder

💥🪨 “The next date plans and solo cuddles with Teddy Bear for the rest of the night seems fair to me. Huh, Eijirou?” Baku looks up from his work with a self assured grin blowing one of your nails. Vermilion irises float from you to Kiri.

💥🪨 Knowing damn well niether of them could keep you their hands off you. “Deal.” Kiri nods without giving Baku the satisfaction of meeting his gaze.

💥🪨 “Oh and I get shitly painted nails.” You sigh rolling your eyes. You’d be lying if you didn’t find it kinda hawt when they got like this

💥🪨 “There.” Halfway through the 2nd episode Kiri says and finally caps his last polish. Blowing gently across the surface of your nails.

💥🪨 By this time Baku has placed your arm on his lower back and his head in your lap. A firm grip on your wrist so you couldn’t checkout his work until Kiri finished. Your fingers make light circles there despite being held hostage. “Bout time, slow poke.” Baku huffs releasing your arm as you brought both hands side by side.

💥🪨 They had somehow managed to pick colors that didn’t totally clash. Kiri’s hand were mix match rose gold and pink with the teeniest (not to mention even) little white hearts in the middle of each nail.

💥🪨 Baku’s hand was very simple and clean. Black French tips with one red to orange nail with a black X on top as an accent.

💥🪨 You weren’t expecting anything this good. You could barely speak. You hadn’t been this lost for words since they had asked you out. You sniffle a lil bit. Your eyes glass up a little too.

💥🪨 God your partners are so great sometimes. The fact that they genuinely gave a fuck still manages to catch you off guard at times. After so many terrible relationships, effort, in and of itself, is kinda baffling

💥🪨 “Damn Pebs, it’s not that bad if you squint.” Kiri laughs nervously squeezing your shoulders. “Woah there, Teddy Bear, I’ll get the remover.” Baku stands ruffling your curls before you grab his wrist stopping him in his tracks.

💥🪨 “Suki. Eiji. Don’t be mad but I can’t pick! You guys both did really good! Fuck! I couldn’t ask for better lovers. You assholes are so much better than I deserve!” You gush before hiding your face in your hands. A little ashamed you let your boyfriends doing something as simple as your nails make you emotional.

💥🪨 “But Baby you deserve the world.” Kirishima immediately scoops you into a bear hug as he stands spinning you with ease and peppering you in kisses. Kiri places you back down even more gently than picked you up

💥🪨 “Princess, you’re a bad bitch! Don’t you dare forget it!” The shorter ash blonde says unwaveringly lifting your chin so you’d meet his eyes. He softly bops your forehead before kissing it and both cheeks. He pulls you close right as he yanks you up to straddle his waist

💥🪨 “Eijirou, I think our Babygirl needs a reminder of who she is and who she’s with.” His already deep ruby eyes darken lustfully. With no hesitation Kiri is right behind you in seconds

💥🪨 “I know just thing to jog our Pebble’s memory, Katsuki.” He whispers licking the side of your neck just as moves to capture Katsuki’s lips with his own

💥🪨 “Promise?” You moan softly lacing fingers into Kiri’s loose kitchens and trailing a cool hand across Baku’s abdomen stopping only at his joggers waist band

💥🪨 With that the three head to the bed room for some much needed group physical therapy

[duskthevampqueen]

Fantasy LIs First Meets

Sooooo, I had an amazing response to my first fantasy head canons of the Blooming Panic LIs! I got not one, but two fan art based off my au! You guys make my heart soft oh my lord. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to share the art or mention them in this post, but I want you to know I adore you! Please let me know if youd like to be mentioned directly!

To feed your brainrot a bit more, here is more expansion on their first meets within the fantasy world.

TW: Angst, mention of abuse

When it comes to how the four creatures came to be friends, it can be very confusing to figure out how it all happened. Each one of the four seem to tell a different story, and stories that go along with that first story. Rumors around their town always talk about what the four say about what went down to cause such an unlikely friend group.

Quest tells the most truth in his story, although he also doesn’t tell the whole truth. He tells about how he came across Nightowl one night in the woods, far off from the town. How they spent the rest of the night talking about nothing and everything, sat at a fire as they became friends. That, in general, is the truth, but there's deeper information about that. The two met when in the woods, yes. But they only met in the woods because Quest was headed back to town after a full moon, his clothes torn and worn out, at the same moment that Nightowl had snuck out of his family home for the night. Nightowl had been crying from a particularly harsh conversation with his mother that ended up with him having a red cheek, and Quest had long scratches all over his body from himself as he shifted and from being in the woods since the full moon started. The two of them both stopped in their tracks when seeing one another, of the species they were meant to supposedly hate, but saw each other in very vulnerable moments, having never met each other before. They seemed to come to a silent agreement, where Quest rubbed his head before starting to gather sticks and wood as Nightowl came to the center of the clearing and cleaned a spot for the fire they built together. They just sat together for a while, staring as they watched the fire slowly come to life under the light of the moon, until Nightowl started to help the werewolf with bandaging his particularly bad scratches using the scraps of Quest’s shirt. They did talk about nothing and everything that night, while just staring at the fire.

Nightowl likes to go to the extremes when it comes to his story. He avoids the one about Quest, he feels its too raw to tell even if he made it out to be the funniest thing possible. Instead, he tells about how he met Xyx, about how the vampire and the dragon didn’t exactly like the situation they were in. Nightowl makes it out to be that the two of them made a boring formal party the most exciting thing, causing chaos as they poured champagne across each other and smashed things while others cheered them on. What happened in reality is that Xyx’s family, who was surprisingly more family-based than most dragons, had to visit Nightowl’s for a formal meeting. Owl’s family was one of the higher ranking types, and while they obviously didn’t have a castle, they did have a large estate, with expectations for their son just as large. Owl hated dressing over the top, feeling the amount of layers he needed to welcome someone for dinner was far too much. He didn’t think that the dragons that wore more jewels than layers would care about the amount of matching fabrics he wore, especially when he saw that the son didn’t care much for the meeting at all. But he got pleasantly surprised when he got a corner alone with Xyx, the dragon immediately starting to make quiet jokes to cheer him up. Owl started to feel himself warm up, laughing quietly at the stupid but effective jokes that the older man would tell him. By the end of the meeting, they promised each other to write letters, although it just turned into Owl using his friend as an excuse to get out of the house.

Xyx never tells the truth in his stories, he makes everything up. He tells that he met Toast in an abandoned mansion, or in a fight circle, or in a debate. It changes with every person that asks, and its gotten to the point that only new people ask him for stories. Or drunkards who forgot about his habit of extraordinary story telling. The only tiniest sliver of truth in his stories is that he met Toast when they were much younger, before Nightowl and Quest were even twinkles in their parents’ eyes. With being immortal beings, they had much longer time to get to know people and be friends. Xyx could remember that they met over the fact that someone was bothering Toast about their hair, although he couldn’t exactly remember what exactly about their hair was said. He just remembered walking over and blowing just a smidge of fire embers on the person’s hair, and grinning as he watched with Toast as the ass panicked and desperately looked for a bucket of water. Toast in that moment had been shocked, the dragon could see, but he paid it no mind as he bought them a glass of mead. He listened as Toast told him about his past, how he relied more on his books than on his family or “friends”. Xyx wasn’t the best at comfort, but he sure was the best with jokes and pestering people, and he continued to do this every time he saw Toast until they could consider each other best friends.

Toast doesn’t get asked for their stories often. But they somehow make the most truthful while also not exactly a truthful story imaginable every time they’re asked about how they met Quest. They say that they met Quest in the bookstore, and had bumped into each other when they had a stack of books in their arms. Quest always felt bad that he made him drop his books, helping him pick them all up, even offering to help get them to where they needed to be. Toast hesitated, thinking back on Xyx’s advice to accept help from people, before agreeing and sitting down in the back of the bookstore. But Toast didn’t go into detail about how one of his books was on werewolves, and how it went through the process of turning from human into werewolf. Quest seemed a bit uncomfortable when first seeing the subject of the book, and Toast was able to notice it after a shared awkward stare before a quiet conversation started. The werewolf started to talk about how the book wasn’t accurate, about how it wasn’t so smooth, but it was more rough and harsh, and felt extremely painful. While the elf wasn’t the best at comfort, he was the best at spells, and started offering his reassurances through offerings of numbing spells. They were shocked when Quest started to have tears well up in his eyes, not expecting such a positive response to such a simple solution. They wondered if this is how friends truly are made.

[billiewena]

megstiel and samruby

starting off with the sexiest ones sooooo true <3

megstiel: look, it’s gender swapped enemies-to-lovers where the girl is evil one getting soft and the guy is the good, pure hero going bad (okay, this is samruby a bit too…) how am I, a simple bisexual, not supposed to be into that. I love that meg was a whole fleshed out character with a story and history and motives of her own way before meeting castiel (unlike most female interests on this show #RIP) and that their relationship was basically all chemistry-based in the beginning because they had sooooooo much. and then s7 happened and she stayed with him under the pretense of it just being her main form of self-protection, but it’s clear they actually began to care about each other and wanted to keep the other safe. she actually looked out for him and defended him against the winchesters when he was already in a very vulnerable, self-hating period and I’m like “yes go off queen.”

sometimes I wish the rest of her arc hadn’t been just about them in the end but it’s okay because it was such a bittersweet, tragic ending and done well all considering. I also wish they had a lot more onscreen interaction while they could and it makes me insane how they never show cas grieving her, even for people who somehow only saw it as platonic (which HOW????) you can’t deny that was an important friendship for him at least y’know. but also consider: when he calls her thorny beauty <333

samruby: SAMRUBYYYYY. I used to be “I don’t actually ship it, because it’s #toxic” can you believe. now I’m very “I see it, I enjoy it” + your samruby endgame & t4t truthing definitely made me see the light and enjoy it more and see the true depth of it. so many people were involved in manipulating sam to make the apocalypse happen from the angels to azazel & lilith, but ruby never saw sam as just her part of the lucifer group project. she ALWAYS saw it as helping sam reach his true potential and stop being afraid of his powers and become the king of hell she knew he could be.

and she cares about him soooooo much. we don’t talk enough about how she’s the only reason he’s still alive. like, his revenge mission in-between s3 and s4 was becoming a suicide mission and she refused to let him isolate himself and work/drink himself to death. she protected him, stayed with him, and helped him get stronger & smarter instead. she's literally the only reason he’s still alive, the reason why he kept fighting and got confidence in himself.

also as basically the only m/f romance we get to see interact naturally and often onscreen because spn refuses to let women be main characters, their interactions in s4 make me sooooo. like yes there is the obvious inherent sexiness of blood drinking, that is a given. but they have multitudes! they’re SOFT around each other!! the way she encourages him and cheers him on as he masters his abilities <3 the way he smiles at her approval and support <3 <3 the way she jokes about him being a buff nerd <3 <3 <3

I think in canon the ending is definitely a tragic love story, with ruby truly believing they felt the same and were on the same page (which is still delicious tho.) but with how many pointless characters got added and brought back later on, there was sooo much they could’ve done with a ruby resurrection (not whatever that cameo in s15 was.) a redemption arc, her turning against lucifer, her mysterious past being explored, her and lilith being besties. a sam and ruby relationship post-apocalypse would've been so interesting. like it was the biggest betrayal of his life but also he owes her everything and truly never felt more powerful & confident in himself than when he was with her. also I think it’s insane that they almost never bring her up after s4. like that was the most important relationship of his life outside of jess and you’re just never going to bring that up. I cannot find the suncaptor post about it, but is that he feels like he can't grieve her?

last note: my controversial samruby opinion I guess is that I refuse to think ruby 1.0 & ruby 2.0 are different demons (RESPECT the long con) but do enjoy the ruby-is-jess headcanons when I’m feeling evil (jess and ruby both believed in sam and hated how his family treated him, coincidence? maybe, maybe not)

send me a ship and I’ll give you my (brutally) honest opinion on it

[sanstropfremir]

Why are the theatre/film schools like that? 💀💀💀

In mine most profs were complete idiots. One of them, a well know actor and the president of the Academy at that time, did absolutely nothing in class. He bailed most of the time due to “shootings” and the few days he came we practically did nothing, just some chats with him about his job. To grade us he asked us to write in a paper what we thought we deserved. I kid you not.

Another one, who was a tv producer, was most likely very mentally ill and undiagnosed cause he would have the most random shitty ideas that we had to comply with and a lot of mood-swings. The day of the final exam he came 40 mins late because he was smoking week in front of the back door and then proceeded to give us the weirdest exam ever that kept us a minimum of 3 hours there. We had to make a plan of how to shoot an event and he kept adding snipers, famous people and animals to the mix.

There was one that I deeply hated cause we had 3 classes with him that were practically the same. He was more on the sociology side but did not know at all how to be a professor. His classes consisted of spiting facts and giving 10+ random bibliography per day. I learned nothing and I still have murderous waves every time someone mentions his name.

There was a couple who were married and had the sane vibe of old and way to classical. They were harmless until the end, when we learned that they blocked A LOT OF THINGS to make the space and curriculum better. Like, requesting funding to take a paid intern for their research lab of 3d shit, choosing the one (a friend of mine), signing the contract and then NEVER DO ANYTHING NOR SPEAK WITH THE CHOSEN PERSON. She had to go crying to the dean for a response and even then they were not held accountable. The school employed her as a paid intern in another department to make up for it but the rest never got resolved.

Other profs were alright, just very weird characters. The screenwriter prof was a very funny man but deeply depressed and had us all worried at first hour on Mondays (his Very Bad Day).

And on top of that was The Building™️. You see, ours was made by a very famous architect and it won several awards. Every couple of weeks we had someone taking photos of it. However, it’s the most impractical building ever because it was built as at a museum and not a school. The chairs are absolutely demential. So uncomfortable and very easily breakable BUT they cannot be replaced until 20-30 years from now because they signed a contract with the architect that said so. There is one (or two if your lucky) power plug per class but millions on the corridors. The bathrooms stalls are so narrow that if you want to enter with a bag/backpack you cannot close the door. In fact, some of those doors barely close without anyone inside. The editing rooms have gigantic windows where you cannot block the light so you can’t see shit on the computers. Well, windows are a thing in general. Classrooms have them but only one of them can be open partially with a button and let me tell you it does not help to ventilate properly 🙊. And the doors, boi, most of them had the handle broken so someone was always at risk of getting trapped there. You taught that they would fix this but it’s been more than 6 years since I finished and it’s still the same. There’s a twitter account that posts the shenanigans that are going on and most shit is the same.

So yeah, wild shit is always happening I guess 🤷🏻‍♀️

✨🎥 anon

literally all film/theatre schools are same shit different channel slkdfjsldkjflskdjflskdjflsdjflsdkjf oh i feel you for all of this. most of our profs did actually know what they were talking about thank god, but a lot of them were old bastions and hadn't worked professionally in AGES so they were sooooo out of date to how the scene actually operated in the modern era. we had a couple of real characters and one of which was the director for my thesis show, who was five foot zero inches and thin as a twig, wore leather pants frequently and called everyone 'lovey'. and like i previously said, was somewhere between 65 and 85 and nobody could tell bc she occasionally went to switzerland to have some crazy type of botox done to her face. we did have potentially maybe two sexual abusers?? i never got confirmation on any of it bc it was kept sooo tightly under wraps but in one case i'm not sure if there was any evidence brought forward (he was just a regular abuser though, that guy fucking SUCKED), and the other guy i only found out about from a former student bc the whole thing got swept under the rug bc his wife ALSO worked in the department. also the whole staff was like. so racist. the year after i left one of the shows that went up to committee for season suggestion was a show written in the 70s that had a bunch of racial slurs in it (and no people of colour in the script) and almost the entire student body put a petition up to remove it from selection but the director wouldn't stand down so they did it anyways 💀💀💀 i was fucking glad i was out of that hellhole by that time.

and oh my god the building architecture.....never before have i been so glad that there's no famous architects from anywhere near my hometown bc fuckin YIKES. we had a designated separate building from the rest of campus that was built in the 80s specifically for the theatre department, so we rarely left bc all the rehearsal rooms + class rooms were all in there with the theatres. and almost no non-theatre students came in bc there was only one 'theatre' class that a non-registered theatre major could take, and that was a public speaking class, so every time that class happened once a week we'd all give eyeballs to the lost looking business and sciences majors coming in. also there were signs on like every door that said 'no non theatre personnel beyond this point' (bc the building also had the box office and held audiences for when the shows were running) so anyone who was lost always looked extra lost. plus the whole thing was a huge maze bc there were upper level catwalks and corridors that connected the grid + fly systems between the two theatres, so the techies sometimes would go up to the upper levels and not come down for the entire day.

oh and there was a tradition where if you had sex in the building you would mark the spot with a black 'x'. in my first year we did a show with a big coffin as one of the setpieces and on one of the last nights of the run two of the actors fucked in it