#shesay

[lesbianchemicalplant]

not gonna post any more screenshots after this, but I went to block a few terf blogs connected to that other one, and

yeah, you know, I’m just not really sold that the only possible reason to not want to associate with self-styled Very Very Serious Feminists is misogyny

[whatilikedoninstagram]

instagram.com/shesays_____ 2020/11/20

[she-whatshername]

I’m back at my drafts writing Drifted, it’s turning into a beautiful set of chapters, but I’m taking my time and giving myself space and grace. A lot is going on out there in the world, y’all. Im numb. Fuck if I could use a Bodhi/Garrick sandwich hug, and a Riorson pep talk right now.

I’m very grateful to have this community. I’m so grateful to you all. It’s the right type of escapism.

Hope everyone is taking care 💜

-SHE

[travelwithmestranger]

How about muting the song to read the poem first, and then unmuting it to focus on the music? Instead of waiting around for women's day, I dedicate my poem and this emotionally powerful song 'Messages from Her' to all you big girls, female poets/ writers/authors out there today . Especial dedication to our beautiful girl admins/ live readers at @poetrysupportbybt for a wonderful collaboration opportunity. ( P.S.- Would love if you listen to the whole song and share your feelings/ interpretation of it when you come back here 💜) . . . . . . #travelwithmestranger #poetrysupportbybt #poetrycollab #poemsforher #shewrites #buddingpoet #poetessofinstagram #herheartpoetry #herwordisgold #wordswithqueens #femalewriters #shesays #egirl #wordswordswords #amwriting #published #voiceofpoets #sheisnotlost #she #poetryslam #her #girlreading #sadgirl #sadpoems #darkpoetry #darkpoetsociety #sadpoetry (at To You) https://www.instagram.com/p/CmXAHLrBQyk/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[xiniaa]

I need a hug even from a purple monster !

[mika-writes-fanfics]

Make it up to you

Professor!Touya x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You're assigned to be the teaching assistant for the new, attractive instructor at your university. His name? Professor Touya. Ever the good student, you hope to maintain a professional relationship with him and stay in good standing, but when he publicly embarrasses you in front of the entire class, all that is thrown out the window. 

Warnings/tags: Colleg AU, quirkless AU, older Touya (coded to be in his 30s), female reader, student/teacher's assistant reader, professor/student relationship, dumbification, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (female), public sex, usage of sir, public embarrassment, lots of dirty talking, messy sex 

Author's note: Huge shoutout to @dabisqueen and @history-be-written for being my beta readers and giving me good suggestions. I appreciate you guys sm!!! This fic truly wouldn't have turned out the way it did without you two. 

Word Count: 7.9K

“So,” Your friend turns to you, asking you in piqued interest, “Who’d the department put you with? You know who you’ll be an assistant for yet?”

“Yeah, I was told I’ve been placed with ‘Professor Touya Todoroki’,” you answer. The name is completely unfamiliar to you, though, you’re hoping she has at least heard of him before.

It’s your turn to ask her a question, and you choose to say, “Have you ever had him?”

Much to your dismay, she shakes her head no.

“Nope, never had him,” she replies. You frown slightly at her answer. Turning to  your friend’s roommate, you hope  to find that she has had some sort of interaction with him. 

“What about you? Have you had him before?” You question her. Just like your friend, she shakes her head, much to your disappointment. 

“I haven’t,” shesays. “I don’t even think anyone else has talked about him before either. I’ve never heard his name in my life.”

Damn. 

You were wanting to hear your peers' experience with your soon to be ‘boss’ of sorts, so that you could prepare yourself, but it seems you’re shit out of luck. You’ll just have to go in blind.  

“You know, they hired a new professor this semester. It might just be him,” your friend points out. She smiles at you mischievously before adding, “And rumor has it, he’s hot as fuck.” 

“Ooooh, how lucky. I’m jealous,” your friend’s roommate giggles. You scoff at the reaction. 

“No reason to be. He’s my professor, ‘s not like I can, you know, do anything with him,” you counter. 

You check your phone, seeing that the time to meet the new professor has come. “I gotta head over to his office before his lecture starts. I’ll catch you around.”

“See you later then. Have fun~” your friend farewells in a singsong voice. 

You chuckle at her antics and make your way over to the department building and to his office. When you get there, you stop to peer through the window on his office door, trying to see if he’s inside. Luckily, he’s there, looking down at a paper in his hand, unaware of your presence. 

You notice right away he doesn’t look like the rest of the university staff. He looks quite a bit younger than the rest of the aging faculty. Though, he was still a couple years your senior, in his early thirties at least. What makes him really stand out to you, apart from his piercing cyan eyes and dark, shaggy hair, is the way he dressed. He’s wearing tight black jeans, a form-fitting white button up, an expensive wristwatch, and black Converse. You can’t help but admire his intense, blue eyes as he studies the sheet of paper in his hand, too focused to notice your staring. Your eyes travel the expanse of his face, taking in his features. 

You remember your friend’s words, her little comment echoing in your brain. ‘Rumor has it, he’s hot as fuck,’ you’re reminded. For once, it seems her gossip is true. Even you can’t deny it; Professor Todoroki is very attractive. 

But you won’t act on your feelings, you can’t. You’re supposed to be his assistant after all! And so, with that thought in your mind, you snap yourself out of your daze. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves and suppressing your desires, before knocking on the door.

He looks up from his papers and glances at you through the window in the door, before beckoning you inside his office. You swing open the door and take a few tentative steps into the room. He quickly looks you up and down, just for a split second, only for his eyes to settle back on your face and look at you expectantly. You hate how his overt glance at your body flusters you and makes you feel hot all over. 

“Excuse me, are you Professor Todoroki?” You ask with a soft voice. 

“Yep, that’d be me. Although, you can just call me Professor Touya. I don’t use my father’s last name,” he explains. His deep, smoky voice worsens your nervousness. The way his voice drawls has butterflies swarming in your stomach. He tosses the papers he was reading off to the side and approaches you, smirking down at you. “But what can I do for you, sweetheart?”

The pet name is something you’re surprised to hear coming from your professor. It borders dangerously on unprofessional, and yet, you find yourself letting it slide. Hearing him say something like that to you sends a wave of heat between your legs. 

Keeping your cool around him is not going to be easy, especially if he keeps calling you that. 

You start by introducing yourself and telling him your name before continuing. “I’m sure the department informed you already, but I’ll be your TA for this next semester,” you start. “I look forward to working with you.”

He hums in response. 

“So you’re my little assistant? Gonna help me with all the long hours grading, hm?” He asks. 

“Yes sir,” you answer. There’s a darker expression that flashes on his face, but it passes just as quickly as it appeared. He narrows his eyes slightly and lazily leans against his desk, supporting his weight using his forearms. Underneath the fabric of his button-up, you can see the muscles of his arms flexing. 

Oh god. 

He’s fucking ripped too. 

“You know, the other faculty told me about you,” he mentions. You can’t help but quirk up at the comment, feeling curious. What did the other teachers say about you? 

“Nothing bad, I hope,” you joke. 

“They all said you were a good student. Never a rule breaker, always professional. Top of your class too, I heard,” he starts. It fills you with a sense of pride and accomplishment, to hear your hard work has gotten you some recognition. You’re practically preening at the praise. And yet, it feels like there’s something else he wants to add. He straightens up and leans off of his desk. The space between you closes as he stands dangerously close to you. 

“But there’s one thing I think they got wrong,” he counters.

You tense up as your mind reels. His voice lowers and he adds, “I’m willing to bet you’re not as good as they say you are.” 

Your brow twitches in annoyance at his bold claim. Just who does he think he is? 

You clench your jaw, biting down the urge to snap back. He’s your superior. You can’t just yell at him and let him have it, not this early in the semester at least. Thus, you settle for tense questioning. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” he insinuates and takes a step back. The distance between the two of you gives you space to breathe, space to fume. “We’ll meet an hour before class to go over the lesson plan. I give a lot of tests over the semester, so come by every afternoon to help with grading.” 

Oh great. 

You’ll be spending most of your week nights with this hot asshole. 

“Understood?” He asks. His cobalt eyes bore into yours as he looks at you expectantly, waiting for your response. 

“Yes sir,” you answer flatly. Despite your lack of enthusiasm, he seems to grin at your agreement. 

“Hm, sir. That’s not something I’m used to hearing from my students,” he teases. There’s a darker look in his eyes that disappears as quickly as you notice it. “Your underclassmen tend to be more… casual around me.”

“And does that bother you?” You ask, suddenly feeling a bit awkward at your apparent odd choice of words. 

“No,” he says, quickly denying it. His voice seems to drop an octave, and he adds, “I prefer it, actually.”

There seems to be something off about the situation, something greater lying behind the surface of his words, but you can’t seem to figure out what greater meaning lies underneath something as simple as an honorific to him. 

The tension is broken after he clears his throat and leans off of the desk upon looking at the clock. “But enough of that,” he starts. “Our first lecture is scheduled to start soon. Let’s start talking about the lesson plan.” 

If there’s one thing you've learned about Professor Touya over the course of the next few weeks, it’s that he’s both fun to talk to yet incredibly strict. He has a penchant for teasing you and the two of you often banter with one another, but despite the growing bond forming between the two of you, he still insists on you calling him sir. 

You suppose he still wants to maintain at least a bit of an aura of professionalism between the two of you. And so, despite how awkward it feels, you continue to address him as such, unaware of the little quirk in his smirk that always follows. 

In speaking with him and sitting in during his lectures, you find yourself being intrinsically drawn to him like a moth to a flame. You reason it’s because you admire his remarkable intelligence, amongst other enigmatic qualities.

He’s driven. Witty. Mysterious. Captivating, even.

With how much he has going for him, it’s no mystery why the university hired him; he’s easily one of the brightest minds in his field, and an engaging professor as well. You could learn from him. 

Yeah. 

That’s all it is. 

You just want to learn from him, is all. 

That’s why you’re gravitating to him.

You don't want to think about him outside of class.

You don’t want to think about the way his attractive smirk gives you butterflies.

You don’t want to think about kissing those soft lips of his as you stare at him speaking.

And you definitely don’t want to think about his fingers descending down your body and touching your aching core. 

You try to avoid thinking about those less than pure daydreams you have about him, both out of self respect for yourself, considering the insulting implication he threw at you during your first meeting, and out of aversion to entertaining lewd ideas about your professor. However, despite this conscious decision, your subconscious has other plans. You find yourself often stealing glances his way, admiring his attractive features, much to your own dismay.

Today is another instance of your subconscious betraying you, and your eyes are now fixated on him, taking in the frustrated scrunch in his brow and tensed shoulders. He abruptly stops setting up the presentation on the computer and walks over towards the windows in the classroom. In an attempt to get respite from the rising heat in the room, he cracks open all the windows. 

“You’d think with the high tuition they’d have enough money to fix this damn AC already,” Professor Touya scoffs. The building’s lack of cool air is a well-known problem, which is why you wore such a thin, short dress today in the first place. It was too damn hot to show up to class wearing much else.

He sighs in annoyance as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt and rolls up the sleeves, revealing something that has your breath hitch in your throat.  They start from his wrists and travel up his arms. Shades of purple and blue accent his black ink work, the hues of blue matching his mysterious, cerulean-colored eyes.  From what you’re able to discern, his tattoos go even farther than just his forearms. You wonder just how many he has, and where. The curiosity makes your mind entertain some less than pure ideas, picturing his bare skin and imagining just what kind of ink work he hides underneath his clothes. You try to reign in these fantasies of yours, but you’re too busy drooling over him.

Too busy to even notice that he’s caught you staring. 

He smirks to himself upon seeing you ogling him. His hunch was right, there was something more between the two of you; an unspoken, mutual sexual tension. Though, you seem to be fighting your apparent attraction to him, he could see it in the way you quickly caught yourself and looked away, avoiding looking at him much more at all. He’s hoping he can change that. Maybe he can make you see there’s no shame in it. He’d be more than happy to indulge your naughty fantasies. 

He lazily glances at the clock, seeing how the scheduled lecture will start shortly. It’s then that he remembers something. He leans closer to you and taps the desk, startling you and flustering you with his sudden closeness, and requests, “Hey, I had some handouts for today’s class printed out upstairs. Will you go pick them up for me?”

“Yes sir, I can do that,” you agree. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. And with that, you leave the class and head to the printing room. Shortly after you leave, a couple students trickle into the room, all belonging to the same close-knit clique of fraternity members. They each take their usual seats and continue to talk amongst themselves freely. Their conversation is painfully loud. He can hear them all the way from the front of the classroom, even though they sit far in the back. 

“Aw man, that hot TA isn’t here today,” one of the frat boys bemoans. “She’s usually around before class.”

“Fucking bummer,” another complains. “Was hoping to get her number.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t mind getting a piece of that,” the other agrees. “She’s a total fucking nerd but I bet she’d be a decent fuck.” They all loudly laugh at that comment and continue making their comments about you. 

He knows their type, and just how it would end for you should you associate with them. Besides the fact that they’re all idiots and that alone would be enough to disappoint you, you would be wasted on them. Those frat boys wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you. They wouldn’t know how to make you cum. They wouldn’t make you completely dumb with pleasure. There’s just something special about getting a normally smart girl to completely fall apart for him, to give a girl so much pleasure that everything else melts away. And truthfully, he wants to take you there. He wants to see just what it would take to fuck you stupid. He has to know, just how much pleasure does it take to turn your brain to mush.

His desire for you is why these frat boys irk him so much. They casually talk about seducing you into their bed like you’re an easy lay. But the fun that comes with you is the cat and mouse game, the deliberation in your brain between suppressing your attraction towards him and wanting to cave into your own desires. Your little errand couldn’t have come at a better time. He’s glad you’re not here to give them an opportunity to make a move on you, but he can’t keep sending you away before class starts to spare you the misfortune of these idiots making a pass at you. 

No.

He needs to send a little message to the competition. 

And lucky for him, he’s got just the idea. 

More students start filing in as he makes his plans. He has everything thought out, and all that is left is the final piece: you. But shortly before Professor Touya starts the lecture, you make it inside the classroom, papers in hand. You attempt to start passing out the handouts, when he stops you in your tracks. He takes the stack of sheets from your hands and haphazardly tosses them aside.

“I thought they needed that for today?” You ask, thrown off by the apparent change in plans. 

“Nah, we’ll just have them copy the diagram themselves for today. I saw some research that suggested it helps more with memorization. You’ve seen their test grades, the students need all the help they can get,” he lies. You can’t help but genuinely chuckle at his light jab at his own students. As much as you think it’s a waste to discard the handouts– if Professor Touya believes it’ll help the students, you won’t argue with him. 

“Alright, whatever you say, sir,” you laugh. The lecture starts as it normally does and follows the previously discussed lesson plan, until it comes time to show the students the diagram. He turns to you mid-lecture, about to ask you for some sort of assistance. 

“You’ve got better art skills than me. Draw this diagram. Top of page ninety,” Professor Todoroki instructs. He slides over his copy of the textbook, pages turned to a rather complicated figure. It’s far too much information to draw from memory. 

“Sure thing,” you answer. You pick up a marker and uncap it, before holding the textbook in the crook of your arm. You’re about to start copying the figure near the bottom of the board when he interrupts you. 

“Ah, I’m going to write more notes there in a minute. Why don’t you put it over here instead?” He points far up the whiteboard to some blank space tucked in the upper corner. Your stomach sinks at seeing where he wants you to place the diagram. You’re regretting wearing such a short dress today. But still, short dress or not, you have to do this. Maybe… Maybe you can manage it, without flashing the entire class? 

Without much of a choice, you study the diagram, balancing the heavy textbook in one hand while you reach up the whiteboard with a dry-erase marker in hand. You start to stand up on the tips of your toes and you try to aim for a slightly closer area of blank space, all the while your mind is preoccupied with the hem of your skirt. You’re dangerously close to accidentally erasing all of his previous notes, something you’re not too keen on doing given his strictness. 

“Having trouble?” Professor Touya teases, with an amused grin on his face. 

“No, ‘m fine,” you lie. Not that you would admit it to him, but it’s more than just a bit awkward to both hold onto the book and stand up high to draw the figure. 

“Here, let me,” he insists. He comes up behind you, his crotch just barely brushing against your ass. Your breath gets caught in your throat at your body involuntarily stiffens. You internally cringe at how something so simple as a passing touch makes your body feel hot. 

He plucks the textbook from your hands, allowing you a bit more freedom of motion to stand up higher and draw with precision. He sidles up next to you and holds the book open for you. Still, even with his help, it’s still hard to draw exactly where he wants you to. Your dress already feels rather high on your legs as is, you’re sure disaster would happen should you stand up higher. 

“Come on, you’re almost there, just stand up a little more,” he encourages and goads. You almost jolt when you feel a warm hand touch your waist, egging you on to push the envelope just a little further. Not wanting to disobey him, you do as he says, though the regret is instant. The skirt of your dress hikes over your hips and reveals the curve of your ass. A sharp, hushed silence sweeps over the room. Your ears feel like they’re burning and tears are welling up in your eyes at the sheer humiliation you feel in this moment. You draw the figure anyways, albeit carelessly and sloppily. 

You just want this to be over. 

But since your back is turned to the class, you’re completely unaware of the silent exchange happening between Professor Touya and the frat boys in the back row. While you are doing as he asked, ever his obedient assistant, he’s busy glowering at his competition. 

The message is clear. 

You are off limits. 

When the diagram is finally drawn, you straighten back out and place your feet flat on the ground. You should be a bit relieved when your dress finally covers your body once more, but you’re unable to feel that respite. The damage is done, and you’re now left to simmer in your own embarrassment. 

“Is that all you needed from me, sir?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper and thick with emotion. There’s a lump in your throat forming as you fight back the urge to cry. 

“Yeah, that’s all, sweetheart,” he answers, in a manner that’s almost a subtle attempt at soothing you. You let out a shaky, uneven breath. 

“Okay,” you say through a tense sigh. Your voice cracks when you speak once more, “I-I’ll be in your office to… get started on grading.”

You dismiss yourself and nearly rush out of the classroom, all too eager to distance yourself from the source of your shame. Once you’re in the safety of the hallways, you freely let the tears flow down your face. You’re at least thankful the halls are somewhat sparse, meaning that few are able to see you fall apart like this. The last thing you can handle emotionally is someone asking you what happened or if you were okay. Talking about it would just make the humiliation much more real.  

When you finally reach Professor Touya’s office, you close the blinds on his door behind you and prop yourself up against the desk with your hands. You try to recollect yourself, to no avail. Your shame just eats away at you. But at least with his office so far out of the way of all other classes and the blinds drawn down, no one can see you fall apart like this. You can stew in your emotions somewhat privately, at least until Professor Touya gets back. 

Professor Touya.

You want to sneer at the thought of him. The more you think about what happened during the lecture, the more you can’t help but assume he wanted to embarrass you on purpose, like the asshole he is. He enjoys toying with you too much, but this time, he really went too far. You think you’ve been much too cordial with him. When he gets back, you swear you’ll give him a piece of your mind. Fuck professionalism, that was thrown out the window when he forced your hand and caught a peek up your dress. 

Speak of the devil, or rather, think of the devil, and he appears. More time than you thought must have passed while you were smoldering in your feelings, as Professor Touya leisurely strolls into his office, now apparently finished with the lecture. You wipe your tears on the back of your hand, trying to make yourself look a little less weak in front of him and steeling your nerves to tell him off. 

“So what the hell was that about, huh? Why do you get off on being an absolute dick to me? I know you did that shit on purpose,” you accuse. He makes his way over to you and stands in front of you, partially caging you against the desk. The close proximity to him makes you feel hot with what you assume is indignation.

Yeah, that’s what this feeling is.

You despise him.

He doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to let you vent out your frustrations, taking the spite you hurl at him. You’re very much angry at him, filled with so much frustration that your voice is unsteady as you yell, “You’re such a fucking ass. And for what! I did nothing to you, I’ve been nothing but helpful and polite. What could possibly make you want to humiliate me like that? What have I done to make you hate me like this?”

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t hate you,” he soothes. His voice sounds much more husky when he adds, “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Well I still think you’re an asshole for that little stunt you pulled, even if it wasn’t because you hated me,” you counter, speaking in between breaks in your voice. There’s still tears breaking past your lash line as a consequence of feeling so heated. Your emotions are only further worsened by the confusion you feel. If it wasn’t a malicious attempt to knock you down, why would he do such a thing to you? 

“I know, I know,” he agrees. “How about I make it up to you then?”

“How could you possibly make it up to me?” You question as your voice cracks under the weight of your emotions. You move to wipe your face when he beats you to the punch, brushing away the tears falling down your cheek with his thumb. His hand stays on your face and he tilts your chin to him, angling your face closer to his.  

“Well, I could start by making you feel good, give you something else to think about,” he insinuates. Your breath gets caught in your throat at his implication. “I know you feel it too, this tension between us. I’d love to indulge your fantasies about me, if you’d let me.”

You part your lips, searching for the right words and the strength to reject him, but with his face hovering tantalizingly close to yours, lips mere inches away, you realize you don’t have it in you. 

Fuck. 

You want him so bad. 

“P-please,” you whisper. He has a shit eating grin on his face at your meek and embarrassed begging. 

“What was that? You’ll need to speak up, sweetheart, I can���t hear you,” he teases. You swallow the lump in your throat, and lock eyes with him. 

“Please, make me feel good,” you say again, this time with a little more conviction. 

“Atta girl,” he praises. And with your agreeance, he closes the distance between the two of you and slots his mouth against yours. A gasp escapes you at the feeling of his lips working against your own. Your yearning and daydreaming didn’t prepare you for the intensity of this, for the pure wanting behind every movement of his lips. 

The kiss becomes more and more heated as he presses his body further against yours, leaving little space between the two of you. His tongue dips out from his mouth and runs along the seam of your lips and you part slightly, allowing him the space to slip the wet muscle inside. You find yourself shuddering at the contact and gripping onto the fabric of his button up as a way to tether yourself in this moment. It’s almost a bit embarrassing just how much you’re melting into his touch from something as simple as kissing. Your body is eating it up regardless, sending waves of warmth throughout your entire being and pooling between your legs. 

“Can I touch you?” He asks, after parting from the kiss, his breath fanning over your lips. Although you’ve been dreaming about this moment, and you desperately want to feel his touch all over you, your mind can’t help but chime in; you shouldn’t. 

You really shouldn’t. 

But with his hardening cock pressing up against your stomach and professionalism now abandoned, you throw caution to the wind and give in. You give him a nod and allow his hands to roam over your body. It’s almost dizzying to feel his touch, especially when his hands palm your chest and grope your ass, squeezing the plush flesh in his hands. He dives back in to press his lips up against yours in an intense, crushing kiss once more. You whimper against him, flustered at the feeling of his hot touch over your clothes. You’re becoming drunk on lust just from touches alone. 

Your arousal is heightened as the hands at your ass trail to the front, reaching your hips, before snaking up your dress. His fingers press against your clothed mound. He smirks into the kiss upon feeling the wetness already clinging against the fabric. 

You whine at the loss of friction when his fingers pull back, but the absence of his touch is short-lived. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties and tugs the clothing down your thighs. You part your legs to allow him to completely rid you of them, leaving your cunt now bare before him. You’re glad the blinds on his door are drawn, preventing anyone else from seeing the debauched sight of your panties on the floor in front of your professor. 

The pads of his fingers teasingly trace up your inner thighs, slowly inching bit by bit up your legs and making his way to your aching core. You let out an involuntary gasp when he finally grazes your pussy, his touch now no longer separated by a layer of clothing. 

His fingers run up and down your folds, spreading your juices over yourself and teasingly avoiding sinking into your eager hole. You squirm and jolt every time the tips of his fingers brush against your clit. His warm touch on your engorged bundle of nerves sends jolts of pleasure up your spine. The embarrassment and shame melts away into pure, unadulterated desire with every drag of his fingers over your slit, leaving you wetter and wetter. Your slick coats his fingers as he grazes over your hole. He looks down to see his skin glistening with your wetness, causing him to suck in a breath at the sight. 

Realizing he’s teasing himself by waiting any longer, he decides to give you what you’ve been wanting. Two fingers finally dip inside of your heat, slowly at first. You let out a breathy moan as his digits sink into you. When they bottom out inside of you, you want to squirm at how full you feel with just his fingers alone. They’re the perfect combination of long and thick, stretching out your cunt with ease. 

A sharp inhale escapes you when he slowly pulls out, almost entirely, before pumping back inside of you. He sets an agonizingly slow pace at first as he watches your every reaction, studying what movements and angles have you panting for him. Ever observant, he effortlessly finds your most sensitive spots and hones in on them before quickening his pace. 

Your legs tremble and shake with every harsh thrust of his fingers, bringing you closer and closer to cumming with little effort on his part. He knows just how to curl them up, just how to press the ball of his hand against your clit, just how to get you panting for him. The relentless pumping of his fingers in and out of your hole sends floods of wetness to your core, coating his fingers with your slick. Moans loudly tumble out of your mouth when he slips another into your heat. Though as much as he’s enjoying hearing your slutty moans, he seems distracted. 

He puts his palm over your mouth and leans into your ear. “Shhh, someone’s coming,” he hushes. “Might wanna quiet down unless you want your classmates to barge in and see your pussy full with my fingers.”

You don’t have to see him to know he’s smirking at the comment, feeding off of your apparent embarrassment. The sounds of footsteps and talking nears closer and closer to the door. Knowing your classmates are nearing the door while your legs are obscenely spread for your professor and stuffed full of his thick fingers makes you feel hot with humiliation and overwhelmed with panic, but the pleasure Touya gives you is too much to give up. And so, you bite back your moans in an attempt to stay completely silent. Your body tenses with the risk of getting caught, causing you to clench down even tighter around his fingers. But even though you’re desperately fighting back the urge to whine and wail for him, with very obvious strain, the bastard keeps pumping in and out of you. You just hope the sound of wet squelching isn’t audible through the door.

“I can’t see in, the blinds are closed. Is he not here today?” A student asks, her question partially muffled through Touya’s office door. 

“No, he’s here. My roommate just left his class a while ago,” another student replies. The door knob jiggles as she tries to open the door. You hold your breath, expecting it to swing open and to be caught in the act. 

Only, it never happens. 

The knob refuses to yield to the student’s attempts. She mutters out of frustration, “Damn, must be in a meeting right now. His office is locked.” 

“Huh, I guess we’ll come back tomorrow,” the other classmate shrugs.

You sigh in relief, letting some of the tension dissipate. So long as you’re quiet, you can make it through this without anyone knowing what went on in his office. Still, even that is proving to be a challenge with the way his fingers continue to slam in and out of your pussy. Your knuckles turn white as you grip onto the desk like it’s your lifeline, pouring all your urge to moan into tensing your hands. His half-lidded, cobalt eyes stay trained on your face, seemingly searching for something, while a lazy and smug expression plasters his own face. 

A change in the angle of his fingers sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body and a stifled squeal wrangles past your lips. He snickers at your failed attempts at staying quiet. You instantly feel yourself sweating, either from the anxiety or from quickly racing towards your peak, you’re unable to discern. Hopefully the students didn’t pick up on it.

Much to your horror, one of the students speaks, “Wait, did you hear that?”

“No? What’d you hear?” The other asks in confusion. You cringe, worrying that their curiosity will lead to your social downfall. If they know someone is in there, they’ll demand you answer them. Should that happen, you’re sure Professor Touya will make you answer the door. Not only that, but with the way he’s eating up your embarrassment, you worry he’d make you answer their questions, all the while he still fingers you out of view.

“It was like… a squeak or something,” she explains. 

“Might have been a mouse, this building is super old ya’ know,” the other offers. 

The suspicious student laughs and says in disgust, “Ew, let’s just get the hell out of here. Lab starts in 5 minutes anyways.”

You can’t seem to hear the sound of their footsteps leaving over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and the wet noises of your cunt gushing around his fingers. Evidently, Touya hears. “They’re gone, sweetheart,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. The feeling of his breath against your ear has you shuddering in response. His hand retracts from your face, no longer muffling your sounds. “Since we’re alone again, why don’t you let me hear those loud, slutty sounds of yours, yeah?” 

He starts to mouth your neck, intermixing his kisses with rougher bites against the delicate skin of your throat, leaving behind blooms of teeth marks and hickeys in his wake. It’s almost as if he wants everyone on campus to talk, like he wants your classmates to know you slept with him; the marks all over your neck damning evidence of your hookup. The sensation of his lips all over you  and the curving of his fingers against that bundle of nerves inside you has you keening for him, whines now freely escaping your mouth. 

“A-ah, feels so good,” you moan with a drawn out voice. He thrusts his fingers in and out of you in earnest, spurred on by your sweet sounds echoing in his office. You let out a choked noise upon feeling him speed up, and your walls clench down on his fingers, sucking them further into your heat. He can tell you’re quickly nearing your peak with the way your pussy flutters around him, contracting wildly.  

He pulls away from your neck and mutters against your skin, his breath fanning over the sensitive flesh, “Yeah, my fingers fucking your cunt feel that good? Gonna come on fingers then?”

The sound of his deep voice spewing such filthy words pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you like a harsh wave, stealing your breath away at the impact. You loudly moan as your cunt contracts around his fingers, all the while he continues to pump in and out of you, working you through your release. True to his orders, you gush around him, and your slick freely leaks from your sensitive hole. He finally relents and pulls out of you when you squirm from the overstimulation, attempting to wriggle away from the excessive pleasure. A pleased smirk paints his face upon seeing his fingers glisten with your wetness in the light. The sight gives him an idea, one that goes straight to his cock just at the thought.

“Open up,” he commands. The fingers wet with your juices hover over your lips, waiting for you to follow his demands. You shyly part your lips, allowing his fingers to slip into you. The tang of your own slick touches your tongue and you hold eye contact with him as your mouth closes around his fingers. 

The feeling of your tongue swirling around his digits and the sight of your lips closing around him has his mind racing. He can’t help but think of how your mouth would feel on his cock and how filthy you would look on your knees for him, pretty face nestled against his pelvis and teary doe eyes looking up at him. But he’ll save that for another time.

He needs more than just your mouth right now. 

Once his fingers are sufficiently cleaned off by your tongue, he pulls them out. He surges forward and kisses you, sliding his tongue past your lips. The taste of you still lingers in your mouth. He lewdly moans into the kiss, feeling that much hornier upon sampling your taste. 

“Shit,” he curses against your lips after pulling back. “You taste so good.” He dives back in, passionately kissing you once more and tangling his tongue with yours. “Fuck, sweetheart. I’d bend you over this desk and devour this cunt, but I’m just dying to be inside you.”

“I need it, I want it too. Please, take me,” you beg. Never once did you anticipate you’d be begging for your professor to fuck you in earnest. Never once did you think you’d see the smirk on his face at your lewd pleading. And you certainly didn’t believe you’d ever feel his hands slide under your dress and lift it over you, unclasping your bra along with it, leaving you bare before him. 

He pulls back from you and starts to unbuckle his belt. The sound of the metal clinking in the room makes your ears burn at the lewdness and your pussy clench in anticipation. He frees himself from the confines of his dark jeans, leaving you salivating at the sight of him. 

You want to drool upon seeing how he’s quite thick and long, with prominent veins running along his shaft. You’re then pushed down flush against the top of his desk, splayed over a mess of papers, and he hooks one of your legs over his shoulders. Your breath hitches when he positions his cock in between your folds with his other hand and runs the head up and down your slit, collecting the slick dripping from you and lubing his cock. 

He locks eyes with you as he finally pushes the tip in, relishing in your expression as he slowly slips in, inch by inch. Meanwhile, your full attention is focused on the way his thickness stretches you out and how the veins on his shaft drag against your walls as he sinks into you. You feel a bit breathless when he finally bottoms out and his tip kisses your cervix. 

He starts to pull his hips back until his cock nearly slips out, before pushing back into you and filling you up once more. You feel completely stuffed. True to his words, you can’t think about anything else, the embarrassment you felt frowning more and more distant in your mind and being replaced by sheer, mind numbing pleasure. 

But when he really starts rutting in and out of you? 

Your brain is filled with cotton. He can tell by the way your eyes glaze over and soft moans sound from your parted, panting lips that he’s slowly fucking you stupid. It fills him with a bit of pride to see you being reduced to a brainless, horny mess for him, and the realization goes straight to his cock. 

“T-touya,” you stammer and moan upon feeling his thrusts increase in tempo. You never called him by his first name before, but now that he’s inside of you, it was reasonable for you to believe the two of you are well past formalities. 

“It’s still sir to you,” he growls, correcting your slip up. He punctuates his statement with a hard and deep thrust, making you sharply gasp. His stern voice draws a shudder out of you and you find yourself clenching down on him. 

“‘M sorry, s-sir,” you apologize. You can feel his cock throb in your walls at the honorific. Even through your lust clouded mind, you put the pieces together. 

Oh.

That’s why he liked you calling him sir. 

“Yeah, that’s better,” he breathes. “Like the sound of that out of your mouth more than my name. Keep it up, sweetheart.”

Spurred on by your words, he hooks your other leg over his shoulder, slightly raising you off of the desk and angling his thrusts to hit even deeper inside of you. You grip onto the edges of the table as he fucks into you harder. 

He’s canting into you so deeply and sharply that the desk shakes with every harsh clap of his hips against your thighs. Papers scatter onto the floor, picture frames fall flat on the table top, pens spill out of their holders and clatter onto the ground, all the while he chases one goal: to make you a stupid, incoherent mess from his cock. 

His pace quickens and you bite down on your knuckle in an attempt to muffle your whines and moans, not wanting to fill the entire wing of the building with the sounds of sex. You feel the pleasure rapidly building as he hammers into you, pressing up against that sponges bundle of nerves along your walls. It’s easy to tell he is feeling the same, as more and more deep moans and curses tumble from his lips while he ruts into you. The sound of his voice moaning out for you combined with the angle of his cock pushes you to the verge of orgasming. 

“Hah, fuck. ‘M close. Wanna cum, sir. Please make me cum,” you desperately beg. He throbs at your dumbified state and from the word sir coming out of your mouth. 

Shit, he’s getting close too. 

“Yeah? You gonna make a mess all over these papers then?” He asks, amid pants. He becomes drunk at just the thought of you cumming and dripping all over his cock. It sends a shock wave of pleasure straight between his legs and he rambles on, “Think you can squirt f’me too?” His hips brutally snap into yours, giving you the friction you need to finally be pushed over the edge. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck!” You chant, slurring each of your words in drunken pleasure. You finally fall apart with a silent scream, and just as he was hoping, you gush around him.

“That’s it, cream all over my fucking cock, sweetheart,” he encourages. Strings of your slick cling to his cock and snap with every clap of his pelvis against your skin. He continues to thrust in and out of you, recklessly chasing his own release as you lay below him, now teetering on the edge of overstimulation. 

Your pussy clamping down on him and your walls fluttering finally pushes him over. His hips stutter and he cums with a deep groan, painting your insides white. 

He stills, momentarily keeping his cock nestled in your walls, as he lowers your legs back down against the desk. Slowly, he pulls out of you, glancing down between your legs to see your combined releases leaking out of your hole. He watches, eyes transfixed, as his seed slowly starts seeping out of you and pooling on the sheets below. 

The two of you really did a number on his desk, and his entire office, for that matter. You lay there on the table, dazed and panting, attempting to catch your breath and come back down from your high. He can’t help but smugly chuckle at your dumbified state, before he tucks himself back into his pants. 

“What a mess you’ve made,” he teases. He walks off and heads to the door, about to leave, when he turns over his shoulder and adds, “Make sure to clean up after yourself.” 

You steal a glimpse at the wrecked state of the desk, partially horrified at the wetness pooling between your legs and onto the assignments and handouts. You stare at the wet spots on the sheets of paper. 

Fuck. 

Maybe it’ll dry off. 

You hope so, at least. 

Your face burns when you walk into his classroom the next day. You make eye contact with him as you go to stand near the computer, bringing up the PowerPoint for the lecture. The situation is more than just awkward. 

How do you proceed from here? 

You’re not even sure what to say to him, if you’re supposed to greet him as usual. Your mouth feels dry from nervousness, and you take a drink from your water bottle. A student then walks up to Professor Touya, thankfully taking the heat off of you to speak to him. 

“Professor Touya?” The student starts, preparing to ask him some sort of question. 

“Yes, what is it?” He answers. 

“Did you spill something on my papers?” The student confronts. You choke on your drink as he presents his graded assignment that looks to be partially sullied by water damage, only you and Professor Touya both know- that is definitely not water. 

“Hm, good question. I’m not sure, my TA graded most of these,” he deflects, feigning ignorance. He thinks for a moment, before snapping his fingers and saying, “You know what? Why don’t you ask her? She might know what happened.” 

To your horror, the student takes his suggestion, turning to you and interrogating, “What is this? Is this milk?” 

“Haha, yeah. Milk. It’s just milk,” you force out. You wish you could crawl into a hole and disappear at this moment from the sheer amount of embarrassment you feel. You awkwardly apologize, “Um, sorry about that.” 

“I mean, it’s okay I guess. Accidents happen,” the student shrugs.  

“Alright, if that’s all, we have to set up for today’s lecture. If you’ll excuse us,” Professor Touya intervenes. The student then walks off to take his seat as other students start trickling in. With the student now out of earshot, you confront him. 

“I hate you so much right now,” you say. “That was so embarrassing!” He chuckles at your situation, evidently very entertained by your dismay.

But as much as this circumstance embarrasses you, you can’t help but want more of last night, ruined papers be damned. Feeling bold, you ask, “Make it up to me?”

He gives you a cocky smirk, thrilled to know you want to be fucked dumb yet again. “Sure thing, sweetheart,” he agrees. “I’ll be waiting in my office whenever you want me.”

Tags: @the-milk-anon , @mirayasimpinghard

[shesay]

https://www.tumblr.com/shesay/764438989026557952/if-ugly-males-r-so-upset-by-being-rejected-by

They won’t because they think these woman are bottom barrel and don’t exist to them. I constantly see in real l life and on the internet below average women wanting to date men on the same level as looks as them but they always get rejected by these guys or ignored because they want the madison beers and Sydney Sweeney type of girls but they are the same ones to cry when they get rejected by those type of women. This is why I never liked the whole “ugly guys never get given a chance” cause most of them do but because the women who are typically interested in them looks are on the same level as them they can’t brag and show these women off to their male counterparts cause they want trophy girlfriend/wife. This why they’re always making them over-exaggerated charts where they put women from 1-10 looks wise all wanting 10s when most women especially average looking women would not approach an 10/10 guy at a bar.

Omgg you're 💯 right plus add an extreme porn addiction which makes these males not attracted 2 the majority of irl women like ur a literal failure 2 society lmao. I've seen hot hockey players w lower standards than these ugly freaks and they do nothing but complain. I actually luv seeing them suffer and luv it more when they add 2 the male suicide statistics lol.

[bernlcastel]

@lambdadelta-communism is arude gaslighter

when i talk about how i feel shesays 'no' and saus shes not gaslighting me im literally fcrying rn report her for her hitler patrticles

[portokali]

Hey um I noticed that you rebloged a post from a radfem, shesays, are you aware of that?

I'm not trying to say this in a threatening way, because at first glance what the op says seems fine, just maybe take a minute to step back and look into who you're reblogging from

ohh you're right, i hadn't realized! i marked her red in shinigami eyes asldhf

also the url is shesay everyone!

[raimispiderman]

An interview with Kirsten Dunst from an old issue of Total Film! A very old issue, which is why the scans are so crinkly. 

*

Originally published in Total Film #90, July 2004.

“I’m not a fan of sequels,” Kirsten Dunst firmly declares. “Sometimes when a thing is good they should just let it be.” Lucky she’s not appearing in the most wildly anticipated sequel of the summer, then. Oh, hang on... 

“This is different,” she laughs knowingly. “Different” being the operative word with the Spider-Man movies. “Different” is hiring a director (Sam Raimi) and two stars (Dunst, Tobey Maguire) who have never previously been in sniffing distance of a blockbuster and entrusting them with a megabucks franchise. “Different” is a comic-book movie that satisfies the aficionados, the critics and the multiplex crowds to the tune of $820 million. If it hadn’t been “different”, Dunst would never have agreed to play Spidey love interest Mary Jane Watson in the first place.

“I don’t like doing stunts and action stuff,” shesays. “It doesn’t excite me that much. But I loved the story. Spider-Man at heart is a very simple love story. I think that’s why it was so successful. It’s a smaller story in a big, fantastical film.”

In the absence of MJ’s scarlet barnet and any cackling, psychotic scientists holding her captive, the former child actress looks less like her Spider-Man character and more like someone who might work in publishing. Tucked away in one of the cosier rooms on the penthouse level of LA’s Century Plaza hotel, she wears a grey sweater, a pastel-striped shirt and jeans and, framed by boyishly short blonde hair, her face looks even more European than usual.

You can see why she was the right choice for Raimi, if not the obvious one. Just as Tobey Maguire’s nervy unease feeds perfectly into Peter Parker, Dunst exudes the old-before-her-time toughness of Mary Jane. Unlike the numerous assembly line cuties who might have got the role, she brings a melancholic gravity to it. We have to believe Mary Jane has had a tricky upbringing, and we do.

Panting around Dunst’s feet — and Total Film’s tape recorder — is Atticus, the one-year-old German Shepherd she shares with boyfriend Jake Gyllenhaal. “He’s biting and I’m trying to teach him not to,” she says, presumably referring to Atticus rather than Gyllenhaal. “I have to become the alpha female.”

Dunst is currently in line to be one of Hollywood’s alpha females, too. Provided, of course, that’s what she really wants...

Kirsten Dunst’s life changed on Spider-Man’s record-breaking opening weekend. She remembers that the studio flew the stars home on a private jet. “We started to get the perks after that one,” she laughs.

Such as? “Well, I knew that I didn’t have to do all the stunts I did in the first movie . I was like “No, I’m not doing that. No, I’m not doing that...’ Plus, I could have the resources that I wamted instead of what they told me I was going to have. l could be a little bit more [searching for the right word]. Diva-esque. I could choose my hair and make-up and everyone who worked on Mary Jane’s look. I had the best wigmaker in London do the wig.”

She can thank her red hairpiece for cushioning her sudden transition to worldwide recognition. Filmgoers might have recognised her from her first major role, aged 11, as the ghoulish Claudia in Interview With The Vampire. Maybe they placed her as the scrappy adolescent in Jumanji and Small Soldiers, as the co-star of teen flicks like Drop Dead Gorgeous and Dick or, most memorably, as doomed suburban seductress Lux Lisbon in The Virgin Suicides.

Spider-Man, however, has given her an international profile — which is where the wig comes in handy. "People recognise me from other movies, not just Spider-Man," she says. "But I think if I really had red hair then I'd get it more frequently." 

Since the first Spider-Man, Dunst has been happy to play ensemble roles rather than chasing leads. She's the poetry-quoting lab assistant in Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind and the rich-bitch student under the wing of art lecturer Julia Roberts in Mona Lisa Smile. "You can have the most amazing time with a small role," she says. "It's so fun to come in for two or three weeks and leave and not have the pressure of doing a whole movie. You definitely want a calmer atmosphere after a movie like Spider-Man." 

Spider-Man 2 picks up two years after the end of the first film. Peter Parker is an experienced web- slinger and photographer. Mary Jane is at college, engaged to John Jameson (Daniel Gillies), son of stogie-chomping Daily Bugle editor Jonah, but still keen on Peter. Meanwhile, yet another scientific genius (Alfred Molina as Otto "Dr Octopus" Octavius) has misplaced his marbles and Harry Osborne (James Franco) enlists the robo-armed loon to kill Spider-Man, who he blames for his dad's death. .. You can't say it's not eventful.

This time, however, Dunst had some input into the storyline and politely but firmly requested that Mary Jane cut down on being thrown off tall buildings. "There's a lot less of that. I'm not a fan of heights. This one involved a lot more of being tied up, not so much being dropped, and I'm definitely more aggressive with the evil-doer in this one. I've grown up and I'm not as scared."

Dunst has been instructed by the studio to keep her lips sealed on plot details and scene specifics, but assures us that, "I think, honestly, we've made a better movie. We just went deeper into all the things that people loved in the first one. Everybody's kind of growing up around Peter, but he has such a responsibility to do what he does, it's kind of taking over his life, and MJ is moving on and she's definitely trying to wake Peter up to that fact."

Rumours already abound that there's a follow-up moment to the first movie's memorably moist, upside-down kiss scene, but Dunst is quick to scotch those. "In one scene there is some rain trickling down," she laughs, "but, you know, there are no see-through tops. I'm not as wet in this one." 

She's even cagier when quizzed about the brief period when it looked as if Spider-Man would be recast, either because of back injuries Maguire sustained during Seabiscuit or because of his behaviour, depending on which reports you believe. To make things doubly confusing for Dunst, the prime candidate to don the mask was her significant other, Jake Gyllenhaal.

"Well, Tobey was having some back issues so it was thrown around there," she says cautiously. "It was definitely a complicated time. It was weird." 

How long did the weirdness go on? "I don't know. I'm sure it's not something anybody wants me to talk about, so I'd rather stay away from that area." She laughs nervously. "The right man played Spider-Man."

And so Dunst and Gyllenhaal narrowly avoided becoming an on-screen couple, which would surely have invited tabloid attention. As it is, they're smart, credible and sufficiently private to disappoint the gossips. "It's not like we're a 'famous couple' and that's all we are," she adds. "I don't think people even pay attention to us that much."

She's intensely ambivalent about fame in general. "Everybody treats you like you're a baby," she says disdainfully. "They're like, 'Oh, are you okay?' if you sneeze or something. I definitely think some actors are the biggest babies that I've ever met in my entire life. Because I've grown up in the industry I've seen a lot of people and their behaviour. I just don't want to become one of those stars that the people walking behind them roll their eyes at." 

With 34 films to her name, Dunst often sounds a great deal older than 21. "To grow up in this industry is not easy for later on in life," she sighs. "It kind of messes things up." Kirsten Caroline Dunst made her big-screen debut at the age of six. A veteran of commercials since she was three, she was cast in Woody Allen's segment of the New York Stories triptych. "Woody Allen went and got his daughter Dylan an ice-cream but forgot about the other two kids in the movie, including me," she says. "I remember random little kid things like that. Like in The Bonfire Of The Vanities [in which she played the daughter of Tom Hanks and Kim Cattrall] the dog who was in the back of the car threw up on me..."

Undeterred by mutt vomit and frozen-dessert shortages, she hasn't stopped working since. "Now when I look back I'm like, 'I shouldn't have worked so much.' Working as a child complicates a lot of things — relationships with your parents and money and all those things. It's not the healthiest way to do it. I did enjoy it but I worked a lot when I was younger. Maybe too much. I'll make up for that now."

Her family life was also tough. Her parents, Klaus and Inez, were already estranged when Inez moved Dunst and her younger brother Christian from New Jersey to California to further her daughter's career. Shortly after Interview With The Vampire, which earned Dunst a Golden Globe nomination, they divorced. As the family's main breadwinner, Dunst didn't get to spend her first big paycheque on Barbies.

"No, no, no. Not at all. I helped my family out a lot when I was younger. Not a lot of my money was saved or put away or anything like that. Some of it was for college but then I didn't go to college." 

She sounds despondent talking about it. Is there anything she wishes she'd known earlier? She thinks for a moment. "No, there's nothing. It's maybe good that I was naive about a lot of things, otherwise I would have been more fucked up."

Revealingly, the project with which Dunst would like to launch her own production company is a biopic of Jean Seberg, the tragic A Bout De Souffle star who was monitored by the FBI because of her involvement with the Black Panthers and died of a barbiturate overdose in 'mysterious circumstances'. "I'm interested in how she got swept up in this industry so fast," says Dunst. "I just feel like she acted her life for her family at home and for her husband. She was acting for everyone in a way."

Before that, though, there are some lighter roles. She's about to start filming the Cameron Crowe romcom Elizabethtown and we'll see her next in Wimbledon, a British tennis romance co-starring Paul Bettany. "I haven't picked up a racket since," she says. "I was so sick of tennis after that movie. I've got a really good backhand going. My serve isn't so great, but it's all in the grunting, you know."

Dunst becomes visibly excited about everyday things. She listens to music (current favourites: Rufus Wainwright and The Postal Service), she hangs out with her friends (none of whom are in the industry), she dances, she gets drunk and she tries to maintain an approximation of normality. That, above all else, is why she admires Mary Jane Watson. She looks somehow wistful as she says it: "I just felt like she was a regular girl..."

[madstars-festival]

[MAD STARS through Female Eyes] Becky McOwen-Banks, Director, Creative X Global, Meta

[MAD STARS through Female Eyes]

: Becky McOwen-Banks, Director, Creative X Global, Meta

It was the first MAD STARS event Becky McOwen-Banks, director, creative X global, Meta. She also brought their female perspective to the final juries.

Becky has been a creative director, on staff and freelance, at agencies such as M&C Saatchi London, VaynerMedia UK & EMEA, New Republique and FCB Inferno as well as an active member of the SheSays committee.

Becky McOwen-Banks certainly threw herself into MAD STARS. She was a member of the Final Jury and New Stars Jury, as well as a speaker discussing Searching for Innovation? Then Shut Up and Get Out of the Way! A.K.A. Creative Entrepreneurship in Action. Here is her MAD STARS view:

What motivated you to be so involved? What was your impression of MAD STARS 2023? 

Becky McOwen-Banks: I have been on many global awards juries, but none that ran from Asia. I was keen to join MAD STARS, see the approach, meet more amazing talent and see for myself how it has been growing as an awards to be noticed. The combination of creative showcase and marketing business focus provides a balanced view of the industry, so I was excited and honoured when invited to get involved. I believe in the power of learning and curiosity have driven me throughout my career. The opportunity to visit a city I hadn't travelled to before, spend some time with leaders and creative talent was too good to miss. It is so important that we in the West don't become myopically focussed inwards and forget that there is so much more to discover and uncover. 

You were on the final jury. What stood out for you in the jury room (and did any work stand out for you in particular)? What were you looking for in the winners? 

Becky McOwen-Banks: We had a great mix of talent and skills in the Final jury for my categories which meant lots of good discussion about the work. Identifying what is the right work for this specific awards show, at this time and within the specific category makes judging different every time. This year lots of conversations focussed around work that made a difference to the world (like Knock Knock) but also rewarded paying clients for pursuing brave thinking.

A piece of work I loved and have shared since being home is the Ladies of Tang Dynasty for Daning Palace. I'm a typophile - I adore typography - so this was just delicious. The attention to the heart of the concept and then allowing their design minds to fly was brilliant. 

You were also on the New Stars jury. What did you think of the standard of work and the New Stars themselves as well as the judging experience? What were you looking for in New Stars winners? 

Becky McOwen-Banks: The NEW STARS jury was tough. There was a lot of great work and so little time. The awards facilitators were very strict with us to get through all of the entries with time for good conversation. It was really interesting seeing the variation in the approaches, and also seeing how some teams seemed to really get under the skin of the issue. The ideas that linked the heart and head were the standout winners, taking such a sensitive topic out of expected channels, to reach audiences wherever they may be - and all with empathy. You won't change behaviour on any topic by shouting at people and trying to shame them. The ideas required an understanding of the educational job that was needed in order to bring people with you and allow the message to be heard as well as the empathetic tone required.  The three points I had as advice for all teams was: 

1: Really question your own thinking. Be your own biggest critic.  Would the audience REALLY respond how I am suggesting? Would it really work? What is the simple message they would actually take out and remember? If you’re not strict in your own thinking then CDs or awards juries will be and will dismiss your thinking.  Learn to stress test your own ideas. Try them from every angle and always be honest with how effective the idea may be in the actual world. It's only this way you get to water-tight thinking. 

2: Keep pushing ideas.  Some ideas simply weren't evolved far enough, despite having a good insight and idea. Creatives (particularly at the early stages in their career) need to keep pushing to deliver full campaign thinking. It's also a way to test the validity of the idea itself. You can get two executions out of most ideas but then run dry - so push for 3, 4, 5 and show this idea can go anywhere. 

3: Crafting should always be secondary to the idea - in service of the idea, not instead of it. Great design and entry boards can never hide an average idea. Some entries were beautifully crafted, when I'd advise for this time-limited exercise that they should have been focussed 90% on idea and 10% on the board. 

Please tell me about your session. Why did you choose the topic and what were its main insights?

Becky McOwen-Banks: Searching for Innovation? Then Shut Up and Get Out of the Way comes from my MBA thesis subject. I am a creative leader committed to innovation and teams. My thesis enabled me to explore the effects that leaders have on their teams, not through their direct actions but through the team design and process they create - and subsequently if these different team designs then have a different impact on the ability to innovate. This felt like a topic that would bring together the MAD STARS audience of leaders and innovation. We are all after ways to learn and enable our teams and businesses to be better, so I thought this was a good way to share some of my findings. I've had a few enquiries for my presentation so I'm hoping that means it landed with some. The main insight is that the traits of leaders (or founders) do affect the shape of teams they create, and this does ultimately impact the ability to innovate. So, we all need to be more aware of the systems we are creating, that we are the ones inhibiting our own success. It also reveals that innovative leaders are those with interactive and interpersonal traits, and that these leaders create more fluid teams. 

Or to distill that into some simple guidance from my results:  1: Leaders who identify themselves as interactive/interpersonal create more autonomous team shapes  2: A more autonomous team shape results in more identifiable and measurable innovation with the added benefit of team positivity and confidence. 

[she-whatshername]

New sims game came out so expect nothing from me for the next while or extremely chaotic Tyrrish Men headcanons between the hours of 8–11pm

It could go either way folks lolol

[xiniaa]

My slogan

[addictiveissues]

Don’t feel sorry for me.

I deserve the misery I feel.

For all the times I betrayed. Lied. On purpose. Destroyed character. Ran you over.

When. All. You. Did. Was. Love. Me.

I caught you ONE TIME.

With a character in a game.

I don’t even know who the character was.

But it didn’t matter.

It was the same thing happening to me. All over again.

The paranoia.

The projecting.

The lying to go get that bag.

The ending stories.

Some real.

Some not.

So don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t deserve it.

#SoHowDoYouHeal #sheSays

#TheBurning

#WithLove #HeSays

#butHow #IdontDeserveIt

#HeKnowsIt #HeGivesItAnyway #Freely #Fully #NoHoldingBack #FullSend

#shehugsMe

#Iembraceher and #cry

I can’t forgive myself for it isn’t right. But I must. So how.

And Therin lies the answer.

I cannot. So I must RECEIVE IT - #TheGivingIsInTheReceiving

So as we hug , I tell myself , I know that I cannot. It I know that He can. I know ow that You do, Lord. I know that I am forgiven IN YOU. I cannot be in mine own. But I am in YOU, Lord.

And I #BreatheItIn while I am hugging and #suddenly we are becoming #equal #becomingOne and we move as in a circle , oblong , triangular , and we are one. The Burned One , The Shiny One , The Little One , now grown , and the Grown One , all within the #LightOfChrist

#Imagry

I can’t explain it. But I know it’s real.

#InMyMindsEye #Meditation #MyMuse #NoW #NewOpportunitiesForWomen #MaricopaCounty #SherrifJoe #ASU #Learning #ReWilding #WildWomanSisterhood #GrowingAtestimony #InTheKnowing

[startups-bar]

Insider’s Guide to London’s Premier Networking Events

London, with its thriving startup ecosystem, is one of the best cities in the world for networking opportunities. Whether you're an entrepreneur, investor, or simply passionate about startups, the city offers a wide array of events tailored to every stage of the startup journey. From Startup Conferences to intimate Entrepreneur Meetups, London is the place to be if you want to immerse yourself in one of the Best Startup Communities in the UK. Here's an insider's guide to navigating London's premier networking events.

1. Startup Conferences: The Gateway to Innovation and Growth

Startup Conferences in London are where innovation meets opportunity. These large-scale events attract industry leaders, successful entrepreneurs, and investors from across the globe. They are perfect for those looking to scale their businesses, stay ahead of industry trends, and make high-impact connections.

Some of the must-attend conferences include:

London Tech Week: A massive event that brings together the global tech ecosystem, featuring networking sessions, keynote speeches, and startup competitions.

Startup Grind Europe: Known for its focus on growth and innovation, this conference provides a platform for early-stage startups to pitch their ideas and connect with investors.

Web Summit: Though hosted in Lisbon, many London-based startups attend this event, making it a great opportunity to network with peers and global leaders.

Attending these conferences can significantly contribute to your Startup Growth, providing you with insights, inspiration, and invaluable connections.

2. Entrepreneur Meetups: Building Deep Connections

For those who prefer a more intimate setting, Entrepreneur Meetups offer the chance to build deeper relationships with fellow entrepreneurs and mentors. These events often focus on specific industries or challenges, making them ideal for targeted networking.

Popular meetups in London include:

London Entrepreneurs Network: One of the largest networks in the city, offering regular meetups and workshops that cater to a wide range of industries and stages of business.

Silicon Roundabout Meetups: Located in the heart of London’s tech scene, these meetups are great for tech-focused startups and provide an excellent opportunity to meet like-minded entrepreneurs.

SheSays London: Aimed at female entrepreneurs, this meetup offers a supportive environment for women to network, learn, and grow their businesses.

By participating in these meetups, you can tap into London’s vibrant Business Startup Community and forge connections that can help propel your business forward.

3. Startup Workshops: Learn and Network Simultaneously

Startup Workshops combine learning with networking, making them perfect for entrepreneurs looking to acquire new skills while expanding their network. These workshops often focus on specific aspects of running a startup, such as fundraising, marketing, or product development.

Key workshops to consider:

General Assembly London: Offers a wide range of workshops on topics like coding, digital marketing, and data science. These are great for entrepreneurs who want to upskill while connecting with others in the startup community.

Escape the City: Focuses on helping professionals transition into entrepreneurship, with workshops on business ideation, pitching, and scaling.

Seedcamp Masterclasses: Aimed at early-stage startups, these workshops provide expert advice on everything from fundraising to scaling, with ample opportunities to network with peers and mentors.

These workshops not only equip you with valuable knowledge but also connect you with other driven entrepreneurs and potential collaborators within the Startup Networking ecosystem.

4. Online Startup Communities: Networking Beyond Borders

In today’s digital age, networking isn’t confined to physical events. Online Startup Communities offer an alternative way to connect with other entrepreneurs, investors, and mentors, allowing you to build relationships across the globe.

Top online communities include:

The Startup Network: An online platform where entrepreneurs can connect, share resources, and seek advice from a global community.

Founders Network: A membership-based community that provides access to a network of tech founders, investors, and industry experts.

Reddit’s r/startups: A popular forum where entrepreneurs can discuss challenges, share resources, and network with a global audience.

These online platforms complement physical events by providing continuous networking opportunities, making it easier to stay connected with the broader Business Startup Community.

5. Networking Events: Where Connections Are Made

Networking events are the lifeblood of any startup ecosystem, and London offers a plethora of options that cater to different needs and industries. Whether you’re looking to meet investors, find co-founders, or simply learn from others, there’s an event for you.

Some of the most popular networking events include:

TechHub London: Regular events focused on tech startups, offering opportunities to meet investors, pitch ideas, and learn from industry experts.

FinTech Connect: Ideal for startups in the financial technology sector, this event connects you with key players in the industry, from banks to investors.

London Startup Network: Hosts regular networking events that bring together entrepreneurs, investors, and mentors from various industries.

By attending these events, you can immerse yourself in one of the Best Startup Communities in the UK and create connections that can accelerate your startup’s growth.

6. The Power of Diverse Events

London’s startup ecosystem is incredibly diverse, and so are its networking events. Attending a mix of Startup Conferences, Entrepreneur Meetups, Startup Workshops, and Networking Events will give you a well-rounded experience and expose you to different facets of the startup world.

This diversity is key to building a robust network. You’ll meet people from various industries, with different experiences and perspectives, all of which can contribute to your growth as an entrepreneur.

Conclusion

Navigating London’s premier networking events can open doors to new opportunities, partnerships, and insights that are crucial for Startup Growth. Whether you’re attending a large-scale Startup Conference, an intimate Entrepreneur Meetup, or participating in an Online Startup Community, these events offer invaluable opportunities to connect with others in the Business Startup Community. By leveraging these networking events, you’ll be well on your way to building a successful startup in one of the world’s most dynamic cities.

[shesay]

I keep seeing your pfp and going like "Jesus Christ, shesay is incredibly gorgeous" and then it's all "oh right, that's Ms. Heard."

Lmao 😭 i wish, Amber rly is beautiful.