#the-girl-writes-i-guess

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[anna-scribbles]

reading old journal entries is like. i take myself firmly by the shoulders. you are not fundamentally evil you are just fifteen

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

what, like it’s hard?, pt. one

“it’s just that… if i want to win a seat in congress by the time i’m thirty, i need to find someone who’s serious about my career. not some little elementary school teacher that cares more about his students than what he’s wearing on my campaign stops,” tommy tells steve, as they’re sitting in quite possibly the fanciest restaurant steve’s ever step foot in. the menu hadn’t even included any prices.

“but… i’m seriously in love with you.” steve feels like his whole world is falling apart. just last week he’d been so sure that tommy was getting ready to propose. he’d introduced steve to his family—they’d spent a week out on martha’s vineyard for a family reunion at which steve had met tommy’s great-grandmother, hands laden with rings as she’d winked when tommy had asked for a private conversation. steve had been so sure that conversation was about the family ring.

“and i love you too, baby, but look. you don’t want to have to leave your students for half the year to come on the campaign trail with me, do you?” tommy asks, not even really looking at steve. he continues to just eat his stupid dinner as if he’s not ripping steve’s heart out at this very moment.

and steve can’t help but think how silly this all is, because it’s not like tommy’s actually running for anything right now. steve doesn’t even teach yet, beyond the two days a week he does his student teaching. they’re only 22, they haven’t even graduated northwestern with their bachelors degrees! but tommy’s saying these things as if they’re all real, right now.

“and i’m off to harvard next fall. it’s not like we’ll stay together while i’m there and you’re still here, right?”

and the thing is, steve had actually thought he’d be going with tommy to boston. they’re both set to graduate in the spring, steve with his degree in education and tommy with a dual major in pre-law and political science. they hadn’t really ever talked about it, but they’d been together since the beginning of their sophomore year. so yes, steve had thought they’d still be together when tommy started at harvard law.

but now steve’s starting to feel extra stupid.

“so… what? you’re breaking up with me?” steve starts to feel his chest tightening, like he might cry. he can’t believe that two hours ago he thought he’d been getting ready for a proposal.

“don’t think of it as a breakup, stevie… think of it as a conscious uncoupling. we’re just moving in two different directions. i’ll be at harvard law next semester and you’ll be…” tommy gives him a look of slight disdain—steve has never seen tommy look at him like that. waitstaff? sure. his driver? absolutely. but it’s never been directed at steve before. “well, you’ll be teaching snot-nosed six year olds. we’re on different paths.”

and that’s what truly makes steve’s blood boil. his passion for teaching and education is one of his greatest qualities and he’d thought that had been part of the reason tommy loved him. he didn’t realize that tommy loved him in spite of that. he’s not gonna let some asshole like tommy montgomery hagan iii tell him he’s no good.

so he doesn’t respond. he just takes the linen napkin off his lap and throws it on his half-eaten steak dinner and marches out of the restaurant.

tommy doesn’t even follow him out.

~*~

“oh steve… i’m sorry,” robin says to him about an hour later while steve lays his head in her lap on their dingy couch.

“it’s not even that he broke up with me,” he explains through tears. “it’s that he basically said i was worthless. like i couldn’t do anything better than teaching. as if teaching isn’t even an admirable profession! where would he be without his teachers, huh? isn’t this all about going to stupid harvard? what does he think the professors there actually do? knit?”

“is this a bad time to tell you that i always kind of hated him?” robin says, maybe trying to get him to laugh. but it kind of surprises steve. he sits up, knocking her hands from where they’ve been carding through his hair in the process.

“you did?! no, you didn’t.” he searches robin’s face for a moment and then sighs. “why didn’t you say anything? you could’ve saved me a whole lot of wasted time.”

“babe, you were so gooey-eyed for that guy, nothing i said was gonna change that. a crowbar couldn’t have pried you away from him. but you have to know he was an asshole.” when steve stares at her blankly, she huffs. “steve, he used to offer to cover the whole tab when we went out. how often did he ever actually pay, even for his own drinks? he made poor jonathan cry the last time we were all here for game night, just because jonathan asked for clarification on the rules for pictionary.” steve is still staring at her. “he tried to stiff argyle by offering him a flight on his dad’s private jet instead of paying for his weed and we all know he doesn’t even have access to the jet. dude was cheap as fuck and not even nice about it.”

steve thinks about it. it was kind of true. tommy was a horrible tipper—steve usually laid down a couple of twenties when they went to dinner together when tommy wasn’t looking. he can remember more than a few times where the guy had sent their food back even though it had looked perfectly wonderful to steve. so… okay, maybe robin had a point.

steve tells her as much, then adds, “but he was always nice to me.”

robin snorts. “are you kidding? he’s stood you up so many times i can’t even remember all of them. remember that time he said his first impression of you was that you weren’t as hot as your pictures? who says that to the person they’re dating?”

steve groans and lays his head back down in her lap.

“okay, so maybe you have a point about that too. but i was gonna marry him, rob. what do i do now?” he knows he’s whining, but he feels just a little bit entitled to it right now.

“i don’t know, babe. get over it, i guess. welcome to the world of us singles. it sucks out here.” steve can hear the fondness in robin’s voice as she says it, but still. it does sting just a little.

they sit there in silence for a while, with robin running her hands through his hair again. it’s so soothing that he almost jumps out of his skin when she speaks again.

“hey, you know what would be super funny?” she’s laughing a little as she says it.

“what?” steve had been dozing just a little and his voice sounds muffled by fatigue.

“if you got into harvard and just showed up on the first day. imagine the look on his face.”

steve laughs at how ridiculous that sounds. like he could get into harvard. plus, he’s got teaching to think about. he doesn’t have a place yet, but he knows he’ll get one soon.

but as he sits there with robin’s hands stroking through his hair, he begins to daydream about how shocked tommy would be. about how he’d have no choice but to eat his words when steve proves himself by getting into one of the most competitive programs in the country. about how good it would feel to prove the bastard wrong.

“robin?” she hums in response. “you’re a goddamn genius.”

~*~

“dingus, are you sure you want to do this?”

the spring semester starts in three days. it’s their last semester at northwestern and there’s nothing but great big darkness on the horizon of steve’s future. he hasn’t slept in two days, busy studying, thick workbooks piled around around him at the kitchen table. he knows what he must look like, over-caffeinated with bruises under his eyes.

“i’m sure.” steve has his lsat exam in one week. “i have to take the exam this week. apps are due by march first.”

“no, steve, i don’t mean taking the test. i mean applying at all. it’s clearly more stress than it’s worth. do you even want to go to law school?” robin sounds concerned and normally steve would think it’s very sweet, but currently it does nothing but irritate him.

“i could,” he responds grumpily.

robin sighs. “i just mean… is this worth it?”

steve looks up then and sees her biting her lip, clearly worried about him. he puts his pencil down and stops the timer on his phone, giving her his full attention.

“this isn’t just about tommy.” robin gives him a skeptical look and it’s his turn to sigh. “it’s really not. maybe it started out that way, maybe it was just a stupid joke to get revenge on the asshole, but now it’s more than that. it’s proving that i can do something unexpected of me.” he swallows. “no one even believed i would get into college. i was just some stupid jock in high school who’d never amount to anything. and then i got in to northwestern and i was so shocked and happy. but i found out that my dad had actually pulled a bunch of strings. so i hadn’t gotten in on my own merits. he didn’t think i could. but now…” he runs a hand through his hair nervously. he’s never said any of this out loud before. “he’s not around now. there’s no one to help me. no safety net. if i can do this, it’ll prove something to me. something that maybe i don’t really believe yet.”

he expects robin to say something about external validation being a corrupting force and identity built on academic achievement being solely a losing game, but she doesn’t. instead, she sits down across the table from him and picks up a workbook.

“okay,” she says. “what do we have to do?”

~*~

“mail here?” steve calls out when he hears the front door close behind robin.

there’s a moment that feels like a pause. “yeah, it’s here.”

steve practically sprints from his bedroom to his living room. robin holds a single white envelope in her hand. steve all but snatches it from her.

his fingers move to rip it open, but then he hesitates. he thrusts it back towards robin. “i can’t,” he tells her. “you do it.”

her eyebrows shoot up. “you’re sure?” steve nods. he watches her rip the envelope open, bouncing on his feet. she scans the page and then she’s smiling.

steve grabs the paper from her. “oh my god?!” he yells. “oh my god!”

robin practically jumps into his arms. “179, baby! harvard law here we come.”

~*~

even after such a successful run at the lsats, there’s still the little matter of actually getting in to the school. steve’s only experience with the academic application process was with undergrad and it appears that applying for anything beyond a bachelors degree is an entirely different ball game. he’s so out of his depth that he’s forced to turn to grad school message boards for advice and tips of how to get in. it seems like everyone else is applying to a hundred different schools while steve’s only applying to one. he learns this is a terrible strategy for planning one’s future, but that doesn’t really matter to steve. for him, it’s harvard or nothing.

there are so many different parts of the application that it makes steve’s head spin. there’s the statement of purpose and the personal statement—the difference between those two requires robin’s careful and slow explanation about three separate times. then there’s the writing sample and the application and the recommendations and the transcripts and and and

but with robin’s help, steve completes each component and successfully sends his materials by the day of the deadline.

steve’s never been a patient person. no one on earth would accuse him of that, so even he can tell that he’s getting on robin’s nerves every day as he practically pounces on her when she returns from collecting the mail.

and then one day, finally, at the end of april, she comes through the front door and clutched in her hand is a big, thick white envelope emblazoned with the words ‘harvard law’ in bold, beautiful crimson red.

~*~

“last chance to back out,” robin says smiling as she swings herself up into the passengers seat of their rented u-haul.

“nah.” steve returns her smile as he slides his sunglasses from his hair onto his face. “let’s get out of this dump.”

and with that, they leave their first apartment behind, headed to the coast.

[wanted to finish this completely before posting but my benadryls kicking in and i have no self control. eventual steddie, promise! no tag list for this one, sorry!! it’s giving me anxiety on the other one lol absolutely not edited, if u see a typo no u don’t. i wrote this on my phone in a feverish frenzy. also, i originally invented someone for the role of warner but then i was like ‘IDIOT!!!!! why would u not choose tommy?????’ so if there’s a name in here that shouldn’t be, no there isn’t.]

[fearandhatred]

the very first thing i did in 2024 was go insane aka i slept at 7am and among other things i drew these! they're unrefined and only two panels of a much larger thing i'm doing but since that'll not be done any time soon i thought i might as well post these first

panel 8 of panel 2

[reddpenn]

Shamelessly draws more scenes from my own fanfiction.

It's those Ultra Despair Boys!

[terrainofheartfelt]

In the film Sabrina, Audrey Hepburn says, "I learned how to live. How to be in the world and of the world. And not just to stand aside and watch. And I will never, never again run away from life or from love either." While it may sound a bit strange, I feel exactly the same way as Sabrina. And it's all because of you, Alex. (inspo)

[kelocitta]

In honor of the @rw-ship-showdown I wanted to write about Artihunter as someone who jokingly slapped them together pre-downpour and still thinks they are actually very compelling. Just not in the super soft love wins kinda way (Although I get why people like that more) And the only way I know how to do that is talking too much so heres a far too long slug essay-

Obviously the slugcats don't offer a ton of characterization but theres not nothing to work with. Their stories, whether by their roles in it or the overarching themes do provide a backbone to work with. Even gameplay itself can provide a bit. (for some more than others) Hunter, to me, is ultimately a story about selflessness. The goal is to revive Moon, which is very much an act of kindness from both Hunter and NSH. But the weight of that action is much more significant for Hunter- Hunter is deeply sick. They're on the clock, and for all their skill in combat none of that will ultimately help them to survive longer than their body can hold out. Moon is a close friend of NSH but that means little Hunter- Hunter really gets next to nothing out of helping them, and ultimately pays quiet a bit spending their limited time alive fighting to deliver that neuron so that someone else can live.

To spend ones limited days on helping another, in a game that very much stresses the unwavering cruelty of the world and nature- is pretty notable. (And you could even say that Hunter being the Hardmode of Rain World adds another layer to this)

And then we have Artificer. A storyline that very much stands out to people as more… villainous (so to speak) than the other slugcats. Artificer's story covers a lot of things. Trauma, violence, revenge, etc. Revenge is a bit of a selfish desire- That need to see someone hurt as they have hurt you. A punishment that ultimately does not fix whatever harm was done- but feels good to see because you were hurt and now those responsible share that pain.

Artificer's actions are founded in that need for revenge, their pups killed for overstepping boundaries they didn't know existed. Is it not fair for them to be angry at that, to punish the scavengers for their violence with their own? Why should the scavengers ever be forgiven when they and their pups were not? And that's how you get that loop- Harm for harm over and over.

The original action has been lost in a spiral of violence for violence. And here stands Artificer- their very spirit scarred. Not just because they sought revenge, but because they never ceased trying to scratch that itch for violence as an answer. Artificer only has two paths for their story- killing the scavenger king (Someone who, really, has little to do with the original 'crime' of the scavengers, but represents an important individual to them- as did the slugpups to Artificer), locking themselves as karma one for good and spending the rest of their life chasing creatures that no longer even fight back in a warped sense of closure- or to dissolve themselves in the acids of the void sea because they're too far gone to find any real peace.

They can't meaningfully recover from that state, not alone, twisting in on themselves. Even if they halt their actions, they've been using violence as a feeble defense against their own pain- violence that no longer has any real direction or basis. Artificer gets no real closure from killing the scavenger king. All they can do is continue the cycle, or try to scrub it away. No real peace in a prison of their own making. So you have a creature, who even with a strict timer on their life- a body that will crumble to disease, spends its last bit of time on saving another. And another who was so caught up in the pain of loss that were eaten alive by their own anger, poisoned their own soul on such a deep level even self-proclaimed gods have no solution for them. What peace can they offer each other? For Hunter, its only a fleeting moment of happiness- of selfish love, before their own body fails them. A bit of indulgence in something for themself. For Artificer, its a single, comforting thread to ground them again, something tangible to protect and care about again. But thats a thread that will ultimately be snapped under the cruel indifference of the world. Hunters timer will tick down regardless of if it takes another with it. Its a tragedy- its doomed to end badly. Whatever good it offers to either of them to find each other will only provide the fleeting comfort of a band-aid that will be ripped away too early. But all that can be worth indulging in anyway, if only for the moment. It doesn't change the ending, but the ending was never going to be happy. Its can so yuri

[gonetoforks]

i want to make a ppg sequel that looks like the concept art for that cancelled batman beyond movie & other cool stuff so bad, they should’ve put me in charge of that cw reboot, i would’ve made it cool and funny and heartwarming and devastating and animated idc if i was literally 13

(context he has 2 dads lmao) (also her dialogue is a reference to their pilot name, the Whoop-Ass Girls!)

[rapidhighway]

do i need to say anything

[libmalliu]

Pmmm X Gravity falls

Magical girl Mabel!!!

🌠🎀🌈🎀🌠🌈🎀🌠🌈🎀🌠🌈🎀🌠🌈🎀🌠

[starrysharks]

i would cry and weep without a "bye" as i grieve - phony, phony, phony. still tangled up in lies, i see I'm just a fake, phony - antipathy world

[xochimillilili]

Woahs you're so cool and niceys and so easy to love with my whole heart :3 !!! *starts kneading my paws and makin biscuits on your tummy*

[milkywaydrabbles]

Heyyy I'm enamoured by your writing style and loved your recent posts <3

So I wanted to ask for the kinktober 16/17 with Gojo? Maybe with a curse reader he spared? 🫡

A/N: Does this make sense not really but I actually LOVED it. So I hope you like it too. Gojo is a loverboy through and through I refuse to believe otherwise. ANYWAYS here it is mwuah

Size difference/Orgasm denial x Gojo Satoru

Gojo Satoru was the strongest.

He didn’t need help, he was at the top of the chain.

And yet, here he was crumbling just by looking at you. You, who threw yourself in front of what he then found out was your brother ( another death painting, one who had already tried to kill him) silently pleading to leave him alone, let him live. You, who he spared from the atrocities he could commit to curses with the sheer pressure of his infinity alone, you’d all seen what he did to Hanami. 

You, who he found himself thinking of when trapped in the prison realm, how small and frail you really did look in comparison to the rest of them, and yet the fury your eyes held left him shaken. How can someone--how can a curse make him break like this? He could have crushed you under his thumb, and he didn’t. He’s getting soft, weak, he thinks. 

And when he’s out of the prison realm? The first one he seeks out is you. Before anyone else even knows he’s out and well, he finds you. Separated from your brother, Choso, who is now fighting for their very cause he tried to destroy.  He finds you, before anyone else. You stand before Gojo, a bit shaken up, ready to plead your case, to beg him to listen, to have him understand that you and your brother were just misguided, and that you understood now, and that you would fight with him. 

But instead, he simply walked to you, looming over your small and dainty frame, wiping some muck off your face and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You were so small, he thought, yet with a fire in your eyes he could never shake. You started to speak, apologizing for what you’d done, apologizing on behalf of Choso, hands shaking out of fear and something else, clutching onto his shirt. He cupped your hand in his face, so delicate, like you would crumble in his arms if he moved too fast; if he held on too tight. “I forgive you.” He whispered, pressing his lips to yours, leaning down even when you’re on your toes to meet his kiss. So small. So frail. He needed to protect you, a curse. It was sick, he thought, how the one who plagued his mind is the one he vowed to destroy. 

“Gojo,” you started, gasping in between kisses. “We need to get back, w-we need to--help them, the o-others--” You were overwhelmed with him, with Gojo Satoru, but not in the way he overwhelmed everyone else. He was still so delicate with you, yet taking over all of your senses.  It took you this long to realize he turned off his infinity, for you--to kiss you, to hold you, to pull you closer into his much larger body. You tried again. “Gojo--”

“Baby,” Your heart was in your throat at the term of endearment. “We will. Promise.” He spoke in between kisses, trailing from your mouth to your cheeks, down your jaw to your throat. “Just let me have this, please. Can’t stop thinking about you.” Your head was spinning, dizzy at the thought of the Gojo Satoru thought of you, even in his capture, that he found you first. Gojo hoisted you up on his hips, your breathing hitched as you wrapped your legs around him. “You’re so small,” He started, carrying you with ease to an untouched and unbroken bench. “You could get so hurt, so tiny.” He mumbled against your skin, leaving fire in the wake where his fingertips grabbed at you. “I can fight,” you argued, knowing he’s seen you and your cursed energy already. Knowing that you can kill, seeing it firsthand. “Mm, I know baby,” heart squeezing in your chest again. “But I need to protect you, look at you,” Suddenly your world is flipped, Gojo looming over you broad shoulders and strong biceps flexing. The blue irises practically glowed while he devoured you with his eyes. “So small underneath me, can’t defend yourself from me--how can you fight without me?” 

You didn’t know what he was saying, and Gojo wasn’t sure he knew either. But you plagued his mind for however long he was in that prison, and you were feeling incredibly small under his gaze. “Go--” “Satoru. Please.” You gulped, looking anywhere but his face. “Sa--Satoru...” You didn’t know why you said his name, you didn’t know what you wanted to say. But being underneath him felt right, somehow, like he spared you and your brother because he knew he’d want you, because he knew you’d want him. Gojo lowered himself, hands playing at the hem of your pants, nuzzling your throat. “What do you need, angel? Anything, I’ll give you anything.” Gojo Satoru, the strong, begging you. Your head was swimming.

“Satoru, I need you to protect me..When we fight, please..” You hiccupped, feeling entirely too overwhelmed with everything. “Please protect me.”

Gojo snapped, capturing your lips in a heated kiss again, urging you to at the bare minimum take your shoes off so he can properly yank the clothes from your legs. They were barely off, but enough for one leg of your pants and underwear to be removed, lifting your leg as he mouthed at your throat again. “I’ll protect you, I promise.” He growled into your skin, free hand pushing your shirt up to expose skin that he immediately latched on you, trailing kissing and bites down your stomach until he got to your thighs, hitched leg above his shoulder as he left your inner thighs covered in kisses and love bites of his affection. He palmed at your cunt, hand covering you fully, fingers measuring up on your stomach. “Look at this, baby, look how deep I’ll be.” He mumbled, letting you look for just a moment before pushing two of his fingers slowly into your wet heat. You gasped, heading reeling. You’d never felt something like this before, something so foreign and yet so fucking pleasurable it had you moaning in an instant. Gojo pumped his fingers in and out, seeing you gush and squirm underneath him, strong arm steadying you. 

“Fuck, have to protect my tiny baby.” He babbled, your small hand wrapping itself onto his forearm, not even close to wrapping your fingers around his arm. His pace was unbearably slow, teasing and taunting with each thrust. “S-Saatoruu, please, keep going.” You huffed, bucking your hips into his fingers until his other hand pushed your hips down onto the bench. He shook his head, curling his fingers in you enough to have you whimpering again, not enough to throw you over the edge. “This isn’t how I want you, this isn’t how I want to make you cum.” He spoke with such conviction it raised your hairs on the back of your neck. Like he was promising you the world later.  “Just wanna feel you on me.” He whispered, removing his fingers and sucking them, moaning at the taste you left behind. Gojo pushed down his pants enough to release his cock, leaning over to smother you in kisses again. He mouthed at your neck, at your throat, feeling you swallow hard with anticipation. “Don’t be scared, pretty.” He whispered against your skin, sizing up his cock against your tummy. He was so much bigger than you, he was sure it would feel like he was in your throat when he fucked you. 

With a slow push in, your pussy parted and swallowed him, feeling tight and hot around him. You gasped, clawing at his shoulders as he pushed in inch by inch, feeling neverending. “Satoruu” you whined, seeing and feeling nothing but him. Gojo leaned back, pushing his hips up into your guts, seeing the bulge on your tummy of where his cock hit. “Y’see that, baby? See how deep I am? Big cock filling you up.” His pupils dilated, focused on the way the bulge shrunk and expanded with each thrust. Your hands grasped at him again, distracting him enough to look up at you, your eyes teary with pleasure. But it wasn’t enough. “Satoru, need more,  please.” You begged, and he shook his head again. “Not now, baby, just wanna feel you remember?” He reminded, and you were losing your mind. “Don’t whine, angel, I’ll give it to you real good after I win, ‘kay?” He quickened his pace, just a little, edging himself just as much as he was you. But he knew he could hold out longer than you could. He had to. “Pussy s’tight, baby...splitting you open” He murmured, looking at the juncture when your hips met, seeing how your pussy lips wrapped around his huge cock and took him in. Without thinking, his hand trailed up your body, palming at your chest--he was enamored with the way his hand could easy cover you. It continued its way up, wrapping his fingers around your throat. You gasped, feeling his grip tighten, taking a hold on the edges of your neck. Your eyes rolled, your own hands covering his and gripping at his wrist. You couldn’t push him away if you tried--even if you really wanted to. 

How could he let you go on your own when you were so small?

“Could break you in half,” he whispered, tightening his fingers a bit more, before relaxing and just leaving his hand there as a necklace. “Anyone could, can’t let you outta my sight.” You were so close, and any time he felt you tighten too much he’d slow down, fucking you slow to keep the pressure and the band never snapping. Tears flowed freely from your eyes, and Gojo leaned down to kiss at the salty drops as they fell. “So mean.” You complained. “Sorry, baby, feels so good.” He pulled out fully, and you cried--leaving you so empty after filling you up so full in your belly. “We gotta go, angel--promise I’ll give it to you just how you want it. Remember? After I win.”

[thrumbolt]

"Fae males were territorial, dominant, arrogant—but the ones in the Spring Court … something had festered in their training."

- Feyre, while looking at Lucien (!) all while sporting Illyrian wings that most Illyrian females aren't able to use for flying due to wing clipping.

[dapper-lil-arts]

I just wrote a smut fanfic About Sunset Shimmer x Twilight Sparkle, per the request of my girlfriend lmao. And yes. It has SEX. 👍🔥

[yumenoyousei]

I asked for a commission of my DC OC Shay from @jnephrite and look at my girl!! 😭 She so pretty I can't even😭😭😭 Always loved @jnephrite art so seeing Shay in hers is a blessing 🙏🏾

And since the fic is almost halfway through posting, I thought, might as well introduce Shay properly! EDIT: the fic, Awaking in Gotham, is now completed!

Full name: Shay Michelle Frank (♀) Occupation: Graphic Designer / YouTuber Height: 5'9"  Birthday: September 16th  ☀Virgo 🌙Aries ⬆Aquarius Proud African American/Haitian & Gothamite  Hobbies: Poetry, Arts, Rap/R&B music, help the Gotham North Community Center, Discover new artists (both musically and visual arts)

Shay was born and raised in Gotham, close to the infamous Crime Alley, by her maternal grandmother, Marie-Monique "Manmi Mo" Antoine, and with her 3 years older brother Zachary "Zee" Frank. Her mother died of childbirth (she had had complications with Zee which was why she was hospitalized when pregnant with Shay) so her whole family distrusted the American health system. This is why when her grandmother was diagnosed with cancer, they didn't go to the hospital and only went to the illegal clinic. (Also; money.) Her father is unknown. 

Ever since young, she went to the Gotham North Community Center, mostly run by the Black and Latinx communities of the Crime Alley neighbourhood. Her grandmother would teach the children about mostly Black literature but also all sorts of arts which is why Shay is such a creative person. That's also where she met Jason Todd for the first time when she was around 4-5.

Her brother very early on started to "run the streets" and started to hang out with bad crews, but always had his heart on his sleeves. He just couldn't find other ways to get money to make sure Shay had the right education/a chance away from crime.

Her grandma died when she was almost 17 and her brother died not even 4 weeks later (2 weeks after her 17th birthday) because of a dispute between gangs. (Allegedly) 

After her grandma and Zee died, she went to live in Metropolis with her second-degree cousin, Jennifer Antoine, until she graduated from university. Even when in Metropolis, she would go as much as she could back to Gotham to see her people/help the center.

She started a YouTube channel talking about Gotham's art and musical scene to change people's persepective of Gotham after too many people at Metropolis U "pitied" her for being a Gothamite. 

As soon as she was about to graduate, she applied to work at Wayne Entreprise back in Gotham. She got a job as a graphic designer and moved back to her city.

At the start of the fic, "Awaking in Gotham", she is 22 and has been working at WE for almost a year.

Read more about Shay (and her love story with Jason) on AO3! (Trying to update every week!)

Random notes about Shay:

As I wrote in the fic's notes, the first reason for creating Shay was: who the fuck would stay in Gotham that isn't a criminal and/or a vigilante??

So I created a black girl who loves her community and sees all it could be while being very conscious of what it is and its dangers. Then I went, hey! she'd be good with Jason while I was starting my Jason Todd Thirst so obv my fic turned into romance. lol

The name comes from Belgian rapper Shay, Montreal-based singer Shay Lia, and Haitian Montreal-based singer Shah Frank. As I was creating Shay I was obsessed with all three of them and the name Shay Frank wouldn't leave me.

Ngl, I gave a lot of me to Shay; like her Haitian roots and GAD but very quickly she went her own way and grew in this character I'm proud of. I'd like to say I also gave her my music taste but she is way more into hip-hop than me and she rejects most of my pop playlists (sadly).

Because Shay was based on me, all her entourage I created is based on people in my rl. lol

I also absolutely wanted her to be friends with Bernard because I absolutely love Bernard (and Bat SO who are civilians? Tim and Jason bonding over the fact their SO are the only civilians in the Batfam?! So many fun things to do!!)

Zee is also a character that I love, based on one of my favourite cousins, and I got lowkey mad at myself halfway through that he was dead. So I have an AU where he didn't die in my head lol 

I'd like to write a oneshot of it when I'm done with this fic.

Last fun fact about Shay that I wasn't able to put in fic yet: all the rogues annoy her (mostly because they cause mayhem that cancel events) but she madly respects Poison Ivy because of her convictions and: "is she wrong tho?" 

I have a lot of other small notes about Shay and the Shay-verse but I'll post the rest when the fic is completed!

EDIT 2024-10-04: I completely forgot to add the link to the post fic notes! So if you read Awaking in Gotham do check those other notes!