Notice How He Said "I Just Can't Afford For You To Fall In Love With Me"

I admit to rushing through the environment on this picture. I’m still feeling sick and my eyes were pretty angry at me for making them stare at a screen to finish it (which, I suspect, is why I made this scene so dark. Lol). But I tried to nab the humor of this, one of my favorite moments from RWRB. :)

“Oh my God, what are you doing? I can’t even look at you.” - Alex, Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

(PS: If you’ve left me an ask, I promise to answer as soon as I’m feeling a bit better!)

Alaqua Cox as Maya Lopez in Echo 1x01

Can i ask for it?

Traded my heart for a lap dance.

Damian Wayne woke up with a killer headache and dry mouth. His head pounded, the light playing across his eyes causing him to instinctively bury himself deeper into the bedsheets. He wondered what the hell he drank the night before to make his head hurt like this. He did not recall having more than three drinks…it was possible he had more. When was the last time he was hungover? Jon’s seventeen birthday but he could be wrong as the alcohol or whatever he had ingested last night, clearly affected his brain functions.

After counting to twenty, he decided it was time to face reality and find a way to get rid of this bothersome, intense headache. A cold shower and black coffee will do. He was cautious opening his eyes slowly because he knew more pain was forthcoming. The room only spun for a second before the world righted itself and Damian was able to scan his surroundings. He recognized the place immediately. His room. Looks like somehow, he had managed to get in his hotel room despite his state of inebriation.

There were clothes scattered on the floor, bottles of champagne and his favorite wine half-empty, not too far from the bed. Glancing around, quickly spotted his own underwear halfway across the room. At that moment he realized he was completely naked. Obviously he had gotten some kind of action last night. The kind that is too hard to resist when you’re intoxicated, especially when it has been too long since the last time he engaged in such activities. The physical intimacy and the endorphins release when you reach climax. But Damian Wayne did not give into temptation easily. No. He concentrated on breathing in and out for a few moments while he furiously tried to recall the night’s events.

A flash of memory lit up his mind.

Eager and warm hands venture beneath his shirt, fingers digging deeper, and deeper into his back and a part of him wishes it leaves a mark. A memento of this night. Lips pressing hungrily into his own as if they were claiming him, telling him they belong entirely to her. Tresses of ebony hair tickle his neck and a skilled mouth trails kisses down his throat, exploring with her tongue and teeth as slender fingers tangle in his hair. The small, ragged moans and gasps she makes ignite a fire in his chest, spreading desire to the rest of his body and Damian can’t contain himself any longer; he needs to have all of her.

Scrunching his eyes shut he willed himself to remember more. After a minute of trying, he came up with a blurry impression of sitting in the vip room he was offered, the hypnotizing movements of well-rounded hips. Piercing, dark blue eyes with a light tint of violet in them. They were dazzling, mystic, as if they were not from this world. He couldn’t think of anything more fascinating than watching this woman dance. Each movement was pure torture making his mouth dry.

“Everyone here calls me Raven, Mr. Wayne.” She had said with a playful smirk. Damian could feel the entire heat of her gaze, hungry and teasing and hunting for more.

Piecing together the bits of information from last night and the flashes of memories coming to him. It’s quite evident that he spent the night with the beautiful, exotic dancer he met at the nightclub. It was only reaffirmed when he noticed the blanket moving next to him. There she was still sound asleep; half-buried so deep under the charcoal duvet he failed to see her when he first opened his eyes. She was breathing evenly, sleeping peacefully beside him. One arm curled under the pillow, and the other stretched unconsciously as if trying to find something she needed. And then he spotted something curious; a ring on the third finger of her left hand. Not just any ring. A diamond ring sparkling there. A piece of jewellery that was not there last night, that was given to symbolize commitment. A lifelong promise that one makes to another. The union of two hearts that pledged a sacred vow to spend a lifetime together as Grayson had poetically expressed a thousand times after proposing to Gordon.

What the fuck happened last night?

Damian swallowed hard. “This has to be a fucking joke.”

Just messing this draft here for the I accidentally married the stripper I met last night AU nobody asked for but it’s here. @ravenfan1242 😂😂😂

“- Don’t look at me like that. - Like what? - Like I’m your everything. - I don’t know how else to look at you.”

—

Whenever I see someone refer to “Victorian era-” for places outside the UK I’m tempted to start saying shit like “Han Dynasty era Rome”, “Soviet era Australia” etc

I Just started watching season 2 of Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, and let me tell you this.

When Spike show up with a Brunette named Drusilla the first think that I fought about was Dru and Ash because of Spike really, REALLY, R E A L L Y Blond hair.

Daniel Molloy has never been more relatable than when he visibly has the slow-sinking realization "Oh no, this man is about to forgive his boyfriend for all of it"

@booksociety’s LGBT+ pride event: Red, White & Royal Blue