#anyway if there’s any pro life people here go fuck yourself

[augustinewrites]

the first time it happens, bakugou is caught completely off guard and is therefore unable to properly act upon it. 

he’s just gotten off his patrol, groaning loudly as he sinks into his plush desk chair. he still needs to type up his report and go over the notes left by his assistant before he can call it a day, but as he waits for his monitor to boot up, exhaustion creeps over him. 

as a rule, bakugou did not usually nap in order to keep his strict sleep schedule. but after a long week of work, he can’t help but let his eyes drift shut and a yawn escape as he lays his head back. 

that is, of course, when the door to his office opens. and there’s only one person brave enough to open the door without knocking first. “hey.”

“hi,” you smile, stepping inside to place a bottle of water and a pack of electrolytes on his desk. “will i see you at home soon?” 

he glances at his monitor, the clock in the corner reading 4:48pm, twelve minutes before the workday is over. wincing, he rubs his temple. “might still be a while, sorry.”

“do you want me to stay and keep you company?”

it’s a tempting offer, but he shakes his head. “no, ’s alright. just pick up some takeout and i’ll meet you at home soon.” 

“okay,” you agree, but only because you both know that after you grab some takeout, you’ll be right back here to keep him company anyway. “just don’t work yourself too hard, promise?” 

“yeah, yeah,” he mutters, letting you press a kiss to his temple. 

“alright, see you later, pumpkin!” 

bakugou pauses, brows furrowing. “wait–”

you’re already sailing out of the room though, and bakugou slumps back into his chair. you did not just call him, dynamight, pumpkin. that was something people named orange tabbys, not the number two pro with the highest offensive stats on the charts.

_____

he wishes that he could say the first time was the last, but it turns out that pumpkin wasn’t the worst nickname you could bestow upon him. 

you’re just sauntering out of the bedroom when you join him in the kitchen the next morning, freshly showered after his jog and fixing you a cup of coffee. you’re not a person until at least 9am, responding to his good morning, baby with a grumble as presses the mug into your hands.

you wake up a little after you’ve had a few sips, smiling at him over the rim of your mug as you murmur, “thanks, sweetpea.”

bakugou, who’d been gulping down a glass of water, nearly chokes, sputtering, “babe—”

“do you want to make waffles?” you ask, smiling so sweetly at him that he doesn’t have the heart to reprimand you. so he just doesn’t answer right away, wary of any more saccharine sweet nicknames you might fire off. 

“katsuki?”

“yeah, waffles. sure,” he replies stupidly, watching as you nod and begin pulling ingredients from the cupboards, criminally oblivious to the quarter-life crisis he’s having. 

_____

bakugou doesn’t know what’s going on with you. he’s heavily considering a trip to the er, because you must have been hit with some sort of quirk that makes you call him disgustingly corny pet names.

“nice catch, cupcake!” you applaud upon his return to the agency after apprehending a villain. one of the interns starts to laugh, but quickly smothers it when the pro-hero shoots him a withering stare.

“looking good, sugarplum,” you compliment when he’s in the middle of a quick, post-lunch workout in his office. he’d stopped mid curl, almost dropping 50 pounds on his foot. 

“thanks, muffin,” you grin after getting his signature on the report he’d missed earlier in the day. he tells kirishima, who’d been there trying to steal a protein bar from his desk and is starting to laugh, to shut the fuck up or get out.

it wasn’t that he hated pet names (he thought they could be cute). what he hated was being referred to as various pastries that sound like they’d come out of his dad’s cookbook. 

but he could handle it. could handle you because, well, he loved you. and you make sacrifices for those you love, even if it means his friends and fellow pros stop calling him dynamite and start calling him honeycakes instead. besides, you’d get over…whatever kind of phase this was eventually.

and you do. 

“goodnight, lovebug,” you murmur, just as he’s on the precipice of sleep. but he’s wide awake now, sitting up to flick the bedside lamp on.

“how do you just say things like that?” he asks, genuinely bewildered. 

you rub the sleep from your eyes, blinking yourself awake. “like what?”

“the names!” he groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “they’re ridiculous.” 

“they’re not ridiculous,” you huff indignantly as you turn to face him. “they’re cute, like you.” 

“i am not cute,” he scoffs, batting your hand away when you poke his cheeks. “you just— you can’t keep callin’ me shit like cupcake or lovebug. just pick somethin’ else to call me.” 

you’re looking at him with a shit-eating grin on your face, and bakugou feels he’s made a mistake of some kind. “should i call you my love instead?”

heat crawls up his neck as he averts his gaze. “that’s alright.”

you shuffle closer. “yeah? what about…darling?” 

“you can use that, sure,” he shrugs, hoping he doesn’t look as flustered as he feels. 

you’re straddling his lap now, dipping your head down to whisper,

“what if i called you daddy?” 

he freezes, fingers digging into your hips as your teeth graze the shell of his ear. 

you get your answer when he flips you both over so you’re trapped against the mattress, swallowing your gasp with a heated kiss.

BONUS:

you hum contentedly as kirishima places a stack of bills into your waiting palm. “i told you he would break in less than a week.”

the redhead groans loudly, lamenting his empty wallet. “man, i thought he was stronger than this!”

“if i’d called him something like ‘kitten,’ this whole thing would have gone a lot faster,” you muse, shaking your head. 

kirishima, clearly having not learned from his recent loss, suggests, “i’ll buy you lunch for a week if you call him that during the board meeting later.”

“i’ll buy you lunch for two weeks if you do it,” you counter. 

“deal!”

[chrissy-kaos]

Hey!!

I just wanted to tell you I think it’s so cool how you continue to play hockey even if it’s a beer league! I mean I don’t know what good adult leagues there are when you’re older really 😅

I miss playing hockey so much and I always just figured it would be impossible to get taken seriously by judgmental fucks. I love that you make history even though you’re just yourself. I do sort of despise some of the things I’ve heard in the locker room too tbh.

It’s so amazing to see you gear up and get sweaty. It makes me some how feel seen too and I feel like I need to just figure it out lol. I know your kicking ass out there (cus I saw u posted ur stats) lol 💜 hope you have a good rest of your weekend 💜

Thank you! Yea posting about me playing wasn’t something i was really going to do. But everyone here seems to love that content and they continue to ask for it. So I’m going to keep posting it. I don’t think I’m anything special or making history. I’m just a girl that wants to play hockey. That’s it. If I inspire others to play than that’s awesome! Because hockey is amazing and growing the game is important! With that said I’m going to share a bit of a story with you. So bear with me.. I tend to over share 😅

Hockey is something I’ll never give up. For a long time my life centered around it. I’m fortunate enough to live in a town that’s had multiple pro teams and a great hockey community. I used to coach/play for one of the teams before my transition. When I was debating if I was going to transition or not hockey played a part in it for sure. I didn’t want to never play again. But I was scared that people wouldn’t accept me and all that. I felt like majority of the community liked me and enjoyed my coaching. But you never actually know how someone feels about it, ya know.

When I finally made my decision I was coaching full time and I decided to step away from hockey not necessarily for good but until I was comfortable with myself. So I resigned and hung my skates up. Then started my transition. It was a little after two years into my transition when I decided to step on the ice again. I had played some roller with a few friends and messed around stick handling in the house but I never went back to the rink.

(I actually find this hilarious 😂.) I seen they had a skate and shot and decided I’d go to it. Not skating for two years I needed to get my legs back anyway. So I show up to the rink. It’s still all the same people that worked there when I did. I walked up to the counter to pay and my friend Josh was working and said “hi ma’am, here for stick time?.” He had no idea I started to transition. I said “hi, Josh.” He looked at me like I was crazy and asked if he knew me. I gave him the money and said “you might” then walked away. He stopped me to tell me where the women’s locker room is. I smiled and said thank you.

I skated like crap. To be expected tho. After the time was up I headed to the locker’s. Josh stopped me and asked how I knew him. So I told him who I was and it blew his mind 😂. He congratulated me and said he had no idea. He told me he was thinking to himself damn this girl is good(I actually suck lol). He was like who the fuck is she?. He thought I was one of the college players. Our local college and pro team share the rink together. Anyway he was completely blown away. The interaction was great and positive. He was very supportive. After that I started coming once a week and more people realized who I was.

Everyone was extremely supportive and accepting. They use my chosen name and pronouns. Even offered me a coaching position again. I declined for reasons. But the hockey community in general is amazing. I felt comfortable enough to hop in our league. It’s our house A league so all the best players current pros, ex pros and d1-3 guys. It’s extremely competitive. I’m still the only girl ☠️ lol

Now I can’t speak for any other community but at no point in time have I been treated bad or different. I’m given the same respect as everyone else. Do guys talk in the lockers probably but they are nothing but respectful and courteous to me. If you want to get out and play don’t let anyone stop you.

Hockey is for everyone and you deserve to play too! Just go for it! You never know unless you try. Hockey has one of the best lgbtqiia+ communities in all of sports. There are teams like @teamtrans-icehockey where you can play with people like us who understand the difficulties of being trans/nb/queer in sports. I’ve played with teams trans a few times and they are an incredible group of people! I highly recommend checking them out! 

(I took this pic the on the way to the rink that first time back. Don’t mind the filter and how pudgy I am 🫣)

[rxttenfish]

Vampire hater? I that vampires were objectively perfect metaphors for predators?

I've always thought there was a lot of fun stuff they can be used for. Can your tirade be today?

lol. lmfao. i think vampires remain god awful metaphors for predators the second you know anything about predation or how it happens in nature.

okay lets start with the parasite bit because thats easier for me. parasitism is also a little bit of a... non-definition too, and technically is just another form of predation too (much like how we should probably define herbivores as predators too because plants are alive and just as alive as animals and the actual mechanics of herbivory is better understood that way but Oh Well i cant even get people to understand that reptiles are alive so plants are a no-go), so all im really talking about is disputing a certain idea of how they behave as predators. for the purposes of this, lets define parasitism as a form of predation that consumes prey in units of less than one.

for one, in a significant chunk of media, a vampire preying on a human usually kills that human. im assuming for this that the amount of blood they need is just equivalent to one human, rather than getting into the supernatural weeds of why this kills the human. you could also just assume the vampire is incompetent and dispatches the prey due to not know how to feed on blood and NOT, but thats bad for the species if all vampires do that.

this is BAD for a parasite. parasites do not actually want to kill their hosts. why would they? for most parasites, the host is not only their source of food but their HOUSE, their source of everything in the world. sure, never leaving the host makes reproduction a complicated mess, but thats the price you pay for getting literally everything handed to you on a silver platter. a parasite is not designed to leave the host, or not for long, and usually makes use of intermediate hosts to do so anyways, minimizing non-host time. did you know most parasites dont actually have any adaptations to manage their body temperature? because if they live inside a host body, then they can just use the hosts body temperature in the first place, nice and perfect for them.

high parasite loads in single hosts are not actually good for the parasite, anyways. anything that effects host health isnt good for the parasite, actually, because they run on such a fine line of "host is healthy and happy = even better food and house for me!" and "host cannot be TOO healthy and happy, because then their immune system has an even better chance to kick me out and kill me (at the same time ofc)"

vampires that just... kill their host upon first contact with said host are not being very good parasites. theyre bad parasites actually. why are you burning your own fields. the blood comes BACK.

but this is when you say, ah! but what if theyre like mosquitos and vampire bats and other forms of parasites that dont live inside their hosts body!

one, you still have the issue of STOP KILLING YOUR DAMN HOSTS. stop removing food sources for yourself in the future!!! but also, theres a reason vampire bats are so fucking weird for deciding to become obligate sangivores as tetrapods, and its because blood is a pretty shitty source of nutrition. its high in certain things, sure, but also it is crucially missing several different things necessary for life to Function, and this is a pretty extreme way to live if you cant just find ways around that. ie: is a vertebrate.

lack of detection is also the name of the game here. you do not want your prey to even notice that you are there, you do not want them to dislodge you, you want to get in and get out. why are you being the exact same fucking size as your prey. thats how you get immediately noticed. and you LOOK like how your prey looks???? in a social animal???? good job getting marked as 1. OUTSIDER TO INSIDE GROUP and 2. POTENTIAL THREAT. theres so much back and forth, pros and cons, competition and collaboration, in social species, that you shouldnt get wrapped up in that if you can help it (which you shouldnt, because you are trying to eat these people, not have your own feeding attempt thwarted because they pulled you into their social dramas and now you cant get close enough to any of them without getting noticed or possibly attacked anyways)

honestly the size thing is one of the big things for me. it makes no sense. theres a reason predators as a rule are smaller than the prey that they hunt, and thats because the 10% rule of tropic levels still applies here. you are operating at an energy deficit. the energy it takes to capture and kill and feed and digest (because you have to have energy to even begin eating something!! even if you dont catch it yourself!! digestion consumes energy!!!) something the size of a human will NOT be made up for by the energy you get from that human if you are ALSO the same size as a human. you are so much more likely to get caught and found out (and no i do not care how op your vampires are, getting outnumbered is far more powerful in real life than it has ever been in fiction because fiction solely runs on "rule of cool" and it kills me when people then try to apply it to real life) (see also: STOP KILLING YOUR SOURCE OF FOOD YOU IDIOTS) (YOU DO NOT GO INTO THE FIELD AND START KILLING ALL OF YOUR HERD OF COWS BECAUSE ONE BULL GORED SOMEONE) (YOU HAVE TO EAT TOO) and to have your feeding attempt botched if you are the size of a human. theres a reason all the sangivores we have are all fractions of a size of the animals that they feed on, AND this is already counting sangivores who eat OTHER stuff too (a lot of blood-feeding insects will also be important pollinators who eat nectar!! vampire bats are weird by only eating blood!!!)

theres also the issue of timing. vampires ALWAYS eat way more often than they should. like, okay, blood is garbage food and it has no fat meaning no extra stores of energy to prevent immediate starvation if you miss one feeding. but these are also animals that are taking a little bit of blood from an animal far larger than them who will not miss that amount of blood taken. they can afford to double-dip, because they arent killing their prey. sure, they can kill their prey in massive swarms, but not only does this primarily effect the young/small/weak and less so for the adults (a fair enough price to pay, babies are cheap and animals always seem to have a higher mortality in their early life than adulthood), but also this is a pretty rare situation to begin with and the bust/boom suggested would be beneficial enough alone to make up for the cost of these losses.

but no. vampires are killing their prey, they have to take a large amount of blood at once (one whole human the same size as them), and they only specialize into ONE TYPE OF PREY. yes, i know theres recent talk of vampires who eat animals, but no. im going pop vampire, the vampire that most people will first think of when thinking of a vampire, basic as shit.

humans are bad prey, okay? this is what all these stories dont understand. humans are really, really bad prey. first of all, we are apex predators to begin with (do not come at me and argue with me about this, an apex predator is literally just one of the largest predators in its ecosystem, can (not necessarily will) eat nearly any other type of animal in said ecosystem, and is rarely predated upon as adults. lions and bears and tigers and sharks are all regularly eaten by other animals when they are cubs. like i said. infant mortality is universally pretty high), so thats a bad call. even in cases of maneaters that exist, theyre nearly all animals that have had their natural form of living interrupted in some way. habitation is the least damaging option (aka why you need to STOP FEEDING THE WILDLIFE), but also if the animal is injured, or sick, or very old, or nursing cubs. aka, all the cases where we would expect an animal to start taking on riskier prey that cannot pan out. the lions of tsavo could not eat their regular prey due to injury and already were feeding off of bodies left behind by the human atrocities of the railroad being constructed. humans both remember and hold grudges. this is a bad strategy, and vampires have made the fatal mistake of absolutely needing to be in absolutely tiny populations just to make the numbers work and also being large enough to actively target. you cannot squish every mosquito, but one vampire already requires such a massive population to support them that you can easily drive them to localized extinction by just killing one.

which is another thing. if you are killing a human every time you eat, and you are eating often, then the humans are not replacing themselves. humans take at least 9 months to make another human, and even that is basically useless without a good decade and a half more of just waiting for them to grow up and get to a decent size which might then be useful for you. if you target the infants to begin with, then thats way less blood, not going to be enough, and youre going to make multiple kills in one night just to make up for that absence, and then some because you need even MORE to make up for the extra energy you just spent obtaining all of said infants. not to mention the time lag itll take for the same humans to make more humans to replace those, AND humans have a limited reproductive window to begin with. this is very bad if you have to eat more than once a week. hell, this is bad if youre even doing the regular predator thing of eating a single large prey maybe once a month (and they supplement their diet with other, smaller prey items to make up for the energy deficit). do you know how long it takes a wildebeest or a zebra to go from calf to reproductive adult? its not 18 years, okay.

and again i just sit here and fume thinking about every excuse made that vampires are using mimicry to look like humans to get close to them. first of all, thats not how most aggressive mimicry works. most aggressive mimicry is looking like something appetizing to your prey item, something it wants to get close to, or something it wouldnt even notice at all. usually if youre looking like a specific animal, its not actually FOR that animal, and aggressive mimicry to begin with is rarer than you think. the only example i can think of is the (small!!!!) fraction of ant-mimicking jumping spiders that do prey on ants, but not only is this rare due to how scary ants themselves are, but it cannot really be just copy + pasted onto humans, who have an entirely different reproductive setup and no queens that churn out hundreds of offspring a day (more than any spider could eat in the one single community of ants) and are mammalian megafauna that have extremely high energetic needs and physical effort required just to kill a single one of those bastards, let alone repeatedly doing it more than once, AND being obligated to navigate space in the same way that they do.

all of this is nonsensical because i am very sick right now so you know. unpolished vampire rant.

[rabbitbakery]

Picking up the pieces (Erasermic with a depressed daughter reader)

OK SO- like I got this silly idea and wanted to write it. It’s daddy issues center over here 😎. Shota and Hizashi are your adoptive parents, and your 13 in this

(WARNINGS: implied neglect, HEAVY s/h (I used to go through that too, trust me there are better ways to handle your emotions. Everyone’s here for you. Helpline: Crisis Text Linehttps://www.crisistextline.org › help...FREE Help for Self-Harm | Text CONNECT to 741741), just depression in general)

—————————————————————

You don’t know….what’s wrong with you. All your life you’ve been used to being ignored, verbally harassed, bullied, really anything that comes with being quirkless. You avoided people, staying to yourself and your sketchbook, drawing silly cartoons to make yourself feel better. Fortunately for you, your school finally took notice of just how depressed you were, and did a welfare check on your home, one step inside caused your parents to lose custody IMMEDIATELY. You were placed with two of your favorite hero’s as your foster parents, Present Mic, and Eraserhead. You thought they were so cool! Mic’s radio show was your favorite thing to listen to while you drew, and Eraserhead quirk was so cool! You’ve tried to draw it a few times, you think you did ok, but you definitely need to work on shading. You adored living with them, you actually got to eat three meals a day, you had a house with lights, and running water. But….you still… struggled. You hadn’t quite quit self harming, it was just….hard. You just felt no motivation to, I mean who would care if some worthless quirkless girl like you was hurting right? You stayed in your room a lot, drawing and listening to music, you just aren’t…mentally energized to be social with your new parents most of the time. What you were currently doing was just that, drawing and listening to music with a warm blanket over you.

He understood wanting to be alone, hell Aizawa could hardly be social with his husband on bad days. But….you were wayyy more secluded than he is. He’s hoping he’s doing this whole parenting thing right, and that you weren’t avoiding them. He was doing little tasks around the house, dishes, dusting, in general just making it look tidy. His fluffy Persian cat was following his every move, tripping him at any chance she could find. Finally he got to laundry, he grabbed him and Hizashi’s clothing first and threw it in before heading you your room, his little girl. He can’t count how many times you’ve insisted that you could handle your own chores, and that he didn’t need to do your laundry for you. He really wishes you’d let him take care of you, but it was cute to watch you stammer and insist only for him to do it anyway. He gently knocked, hearing stuff shuffling around before he hears your soft little voice go

“Come in!”

“Hey kiddo, it’s laundry day.” He went over to your hamper, and of course just on cue you go.

“Oh don’t worry about it Mr. Aizawa I can get it.” You hadn’t quite warmed up to calling them dad yet, which was ok, he would give you all the time in the world, hell he’d give you the world if he could.

“No no kid we’ve talked about this, let me take care of you. It’s my job.” His large hand ruffled your hair, causing your hands to shoot up and playfully swat him away. That’s when he saw it….your sleeve slipped down a bit, letting him see all he needed to see.

“…kid what’s…what’s all this?” You felt your stomach drop, his large calloused hand gently pulled your sleeve down revealing the many slashes and gashes on your arm…..fuck. 

“….i-“ you don’t…know what to say. Fuck you don’t know what to say! What do you do?! Fuck please don’t start crying, or begging you to “stop for him!”! No no no- you don’t think you can handle him being disappointed in you, or giving you a look of pity, you hate that! 

“….oh kid…come here..” his voice was softer then usual, way softer. He gently scooped you up, way easy for him since he was a pro hero. You’re then carried to the bathroom, gently sat down on the ledge of the tub, he starts shifting through the little Medkit they had. 

“….sorry…” your voice is weak and wobbly, shit your on the verge of tears. You can’t cry- not now.

“For?” He sounds….fatherly….your not used to this…..it was nice…

“….you know what for….” He sighs, damnit if he ever got his hands on your biological parents he would just-

“Kid…this isn’t….something you should be sorry for, hell it’s not even your fault. You know I’m not…mad right? Or disappointed, or any of that. I’m worried. It’s my job to worry.”  He grabbed the hydrogen peroxide out of the tiny box, gently grabbing your arm and saying, “this is going to sting a bit, be ready.”. It does in fact sting quite a bit. As he dabbled your arm dry with a cotton ball, he hears the front door open and his husbands loud ass voice.

“IM HOOOOME!!!” He sounds just as cheery as always. Shit- no no no he can’t know to- you can’t handle this!-

“Hey, kid calm down, it’s ok.” Shota says, rubbing your back. You had started hyperventilating you guess. Hizashi comes to where he heard his husbands voice.

“Hello my lovely hus-“ he stops talking when he sees you and….your arm. His demeanor changes from happy to worried in a millisecond.

“Wh- what happened?” Fuck he sounded so worried and sad, no no no-

“Hizashi can you wait for me in the bedroom, I’ll explain after I’m done patching her up.” He gives an uncharacteristic quiet nod and walks off. 

“Ok kid, I’m going to wrap this up and get you some tea, ok? Then I need you to talk to us, I want to know what’s wrong.” And he does so. He wraps up your injuries and leads you to the kitchen, making you a warm cup of sweet peppermint tea. He sits you down on the dining room table, and goes or his room. The home is quiet for a bit before you hear your parents walk back to the dining room, Aizawa and Hizashi sitting on ether side of you.

“Ok little listener, talk to us.” Hizashi’s voice is calm, but fatherly, his right hand gently grabs your own. 

“I….don’t really…know how to….” You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to say it. 

“Ok, do you know…why you’re doing…that?” His hold on your hand gets a little firmer, his thumb tracing your palm.

“Um….well….you guys read my um…file…right..?” Whenever they started fostering you, they were required to read your file, of which stating why you were taken from your parents. It’s just a precaution so if you had ptsd, they would be prepared to handle it.

“Yes kid, we read it.” Aizawa says, tone soft and caring.

“Well…um..I would do…this…there. And now that I’m…here I don’t really know…” 

“How to stop?” Hizashi finished your sentence for you, seeing as you’re barely able to keep yourself from breaking down and crying. You nod, wiping your face with your sleeve. 

“Oh little listener…come here.” Hizashi pulls you into a hug, Shota joining. 

“Sorry dad…” you mumble, oh they hate that the first time you’ve called them that was under this circumstance. 

“Shhhhh, shhh kid it’s ok, it’s not your fault. We’re going to get you some therapy, ok? It’s ok.” Shota kissed the top of your hair. The rest of the night is spent cuddling with your two fathers in the living room, watching trashy tv and making fun of it. 

“I mean, sure it’s your wedding but damn you could’ve picked something nicer!” You guys were watching some weird off brand pick that dress show, Hizashi and Shota making fun of all the ugly dresses relentlessly, you weren’t focused on it too much, you were sleepy. Eventually you nod off in your father, Shota’s arms, Hizashi laying on you like a weird sandwich cuddle pile. This was…nice…..you could get used to this….

hope y’all liked this ☺️💅

[kiefbowl]

https://www.tumblr.com/transmutationisms/730325527112581120/like-the-thing-is-that-transitioning-is-morally-ok

what are your thoughts on this?

like the thing is that transitioning is morally ok

I'll just say I personally don't argue whether transitioning is "morally ok", not because I think morals don't apply, but I think there are specific circumstances where I can't argue that a fully realized adult with informed consent shouldn't be able to make certain decisions, and I do think that if the choice truly is between killing yourself and pursuing some sort of cosmetic change in your life, an adult shouldn't be barred from making that cosmetic change, I'm just overall doubtful that those cosmetic changes are going to "save" someone from suicide. If you have suicidal thoughts, you will ultimately need a different intervention, and I'm saying this with all the compassion and love in my heart. I will say that changes with minors; I think it's indefensible to allow a child to have cosmetic surgery, especially before all other options have been exhausted if you're trying to intervene on suicide. This is a complicated area of thought, and I only mean to interject a lot of my own thoughts here even before OP finishes their sentence because a lot of people with (let's call it) sophomoric analysis and argument skills will start conflating counter arguments with morality even when a morality judgement hasn't been made yet. Since this OP isn't specifically referencing something someone said, I find that interesting and worth keeping in mind, especially with the phrase "morally okay." "Morally okay" isn't very specific, not usually a phrase of much philosophical weight. Basically what I'm hinting at...we can assume this person isn't well versed in making moral arguments. Their feet haven't been held to the fire in an open debate with someone who is a heavy weight in moral philosophy. Anyway...

not because it will make you normal and happy (it very well might not)

"Normal" and "Happy" are already highly contested ideas anyway, let alone in debates about morality. Plato, through his senpai Socrates fanfiction, argued you can be happy from pure reason alone even if you're "on the rack." And then Aristotle argued in response that he was a dumb fuck idiot and you can't be happy on the rack just because you can reason yourself into it obviously you stupid moron. So this debate is old. Ancient, even. Also, don't quote me in your papers, this is from approximate memory but I'm basically right.

So it's funny to me to start a sentence with "transitioning is morally ok, not because it will make you normal and happy" as if those are givens in any argument about morality. Plenty of moral philosophers don't give a rats ass what's normal and what makes you happy. Literally...look at the pro-life movement, who's arguments are based purely in a rationalized morality (and quotes from the bible yadda yadda). When you counter a pro-life argument with "what about the happiness of women" they literally say "what about it." I think happiness matters, but it doesn't mean it's the basis of morality. You have to argue it matters first, and they are already saying even though it's a given you can disregard it. That's weird! We're trending towards a D grade.

And then the admission it might not make you happy...or normal...interesting. Normalcy and Happiness: It matters but disregard it and also it might not matter, a moral argument. Reminds me of Platinga, fucking hated reading Platinga in college. Fuck. That. Guy.

but because you are a moral agent with a body & a name & an identity that you are allowed to change at will.

An assertion! which is way better than that guy in that anon a week ago who basically just said "I don't believe in sex base oppression" over and over again and also used words like "ineluctable". But! Will they support it. Let's find out...

staking that autonomy on the transphobe's demand for a performance of psychiatric normalcy is a losing game,

Not yet

not least of all because these people punish transness with violence

not yet

& then turn around & use that very violence & its detrimental consequences as explanations of how transitioning itself is harmful 🙃

Okay they didn't support their assertion. So I'll make an argument and a counter argument.

Paraphrasing: Transitioning is morally permissible, because regardless if it makes you normal or happy, you are a moral agent who has an identity (which includes your body and name) that you're allowed to change at will.

It doesn't really follow but let's take a stab. I'll define "moral agent" as a being with moral agency, which means someone who can freely make choices of a moral nature.

So the pro argument (Argument A) is that if you are a moral agent, you (1) have the ability to discern what is permissible and (2) your moral agency is a part of your identity, therefore your choices with regards to your identity cannot be unallowable without disinheriting your given moral agency.

The counter-argument (Argument B) is why should that include your body, if the body is a material fact? Should moral permissibility contend with our physical and observable world?

So let's remember these arguments and circle back to their next statements I quoted above:

staking that autonomy on the transphobe's demand for a performance of psychiatric normalcy is a losing game, not least of all because these people punish transness with violence & then turn around & use that very violence & its detrimental consequences as explanations of how transitioning itself is harmful 🙃

bunch of gobbledygook. so now we have an assertion of psychiatric normalcy. Where did that come from?

So if we are to assume that OP's stance is Argument A above, let's assume this sentence is a counter-counter-argument to Argument B. It becomes clear here that OP has a belief that protecting autonomy is a question of morality, and that protecting autonomy is a moral maxim (ought be done), and that violence is proof this is true [data not provided][source needed][does not follow]. We can also assume that by "autonomy" OP means "whatever someone wants to do." It's interesting to pose the question of autonomy in a moral argument, when morality asks questions of what one can ask of another, what one owes another, and what another ought do, especially when you're hinting at the idea that autonomy includes manifesting whatever identity you see fit up to and including physical changes you place on the body.

If you ask me personally, I think autonomy is an important moral question, and it extends to self determination. I believe people in general are owed self determination. However, this moral argument is incomplete because it does not contend with the fact that you are not alone in the world. When does someone's self determination end? When it conflicts with another's. If transitioning includes a belief that denies material facts that are important in recognizing the oppression of another group, perhaps you don't have carte blanche with regards to transitioning.

Again, depends on how you define these things and OP doesn't define anything.

stop playing this game with them, stop trying to prove you can do Health just as good as anyone else. you don't owe anyone that & you're ultimately hurting yourself if you're not willing to defend trans people who are insane or unhealthy or abnormal or anti-socially self-destructive

And this is wild and out of pocket and doesn't follow with anything they previously said. D-

[breserker]

mystery horror theater bre-thousand 1

because if i go on another movie binge without filling this out first i'll have defeated my own purpose

THE OTHER DAY i watched three filmmmsssssss if you can call it that -- Smile (2022), Day of the Reaper (1984), and Savage Weekend (1978). this is my first time doing this under a name and i guess i should give them number ratings but what i may rank very high might get me slaughtered on sight, you'll see what i mean

SMILE (2022) (TW: Suicide, self-harm, THE CAT DOES NOT MAKE IT)

At the behest of a friend, I jumped in to watch this movie -- I enjoy doing that, very little fucks me up and I like keeping an eye out for people horror-wise. Overall? It was incredibly good. It had the tense anxiety of Invisible Man (2020), where there's a lot of focus on the mental deterioration of a woman in a world that doesn't believe her, surrounded in a blanket of the first scene of Midsommar (2019) where it shows a pretty ugly side of certain traits of mental illnesses such as mania and psychosis. And it should, the main character works in a psychiatric emergency hospital, and does so to the point of detriment that I would call self-harm. I've been there, working so hard you wreck yourself, y'know?

By about halfway through it became obvious that was also a monster movie, and while I can see some people turning their nose at that, I think I really needed that aspect to follow through with the movie without feeling beaten down with misery and anxiety. The monster in question operates similarly to It Follows (2014) but instead of being passed on by sex it's passed on through sharing the trauma of witnessing a suicide. The monster itself reminded me a lot of BOB from Twin Peaks, there is a beautiful scene recreating BOB scaling the couch while smiling. It's then that I realized that the first person to die was named Laura. Yeah I see you...I see you...!!!

The theme in the movie is the chain of trauma passed from person to person and viscerally affecting those already with past traumas. I deeply enjoyed its execution and how this was a monster movie...I do wish, however, it ended a little bit differently. While the message that trauma never truly leaves you is there, I was hoping for a different, bittersweet ending instead of the bad end the movie provided. It felt tacked on or changed at the last minute. 4.5/5

~~

DAY OF THE REAPER (1984)

buddy oh man oh MAN BUDDY IF YOU LOVE REALLY SHITTY INDIE HOME FILMS SHOT ON A SHODDY SUPER 8 CAMERA WITH THE WORST ADR DUBBING YOU'VE EVER HEARD IN YOUR LIFE, with every treat a bad movie has to offer, THIS IS YOUR FILM and you can watch it FOR FREE on YouTube RIGHT NOW and then come back and punch me in the face. I was HOWLING with laughter. I got a friend also enthusiastic about bad movies to watch it and HE loved it TOO. i have to gather more people to watch this gem, and if you stick with it and think it's boring keep going because the conclusion is so wildly out of this world and so strangely done that it'll hopefully bring glee and joy to you too. CLEAR AND AWAY 5/5

~~

SAVAGE WEEKEND (1978)

I was running out of steam by this point because laughing at Day of the Reaper put my lungs in a state, but this is a slasher from the years in between Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Friday the 13th. I've seen many many slashers that follow the tropes of horny teens boning it in woods (but strangely a white girl usually dies first! I donno where the Black guy trope comes from--but then they're rarely in these films ANYWAY so whatever). But here, it's a bunch of really messy adults with crossed desires, separation/divorcees not knowing what they want out of love at this point, horny adult looking for any tail they can get, et cetera. It honestly was a refreshing break from all of the giggly teen stuff--I'd be far and away more interested to see more like this in the future.

The editing was cut really quick in a lot of areas and the film's pacing at times makes it feel like a rushed project, it needed a finer tooth comb on both fronts. The quality wasn't great but I was pleased to see a flamboyantly charming Christopher Allport give the nasty queer bitch role his all. The twist was pretty meh, I wish there was more fallout action between Mac and the divorcee (just get nasty with it! it's the 70's let's go!) I might be interested to see this again but probably not, it gets this score just for the novelty of horny adults with horny adult problems in a slasher film: 3/5

[astral-actias]

Realized I never made a pinned post so I'm gonna do that...

Anyway hello my name is Nevi, if you recognize me from anywhere else, no you don't.

I'm almost 40! Hooray for me, it's kinda great.

I'm disabled, less hooray for me lol.

I got the ADHD and autism wombo combo. If you think I'm being intentionally obtuse or inflammatory, but I haven't directly told you to go fuck yourself, it's probably just that my tone doesn't carry via text.

99% of the time I'm not actually trying to start shit.

You will know if I am trying to start shit, believe me. I'm not subtle.

I sometimes get far enough into my own head that I'll lose the thread of conversations, especially if they're fairly abstract.

I'm fairly openly trans masculine, he/him or they/them pronouns.

Also I'm plural but it's kinda neither here nor there with regards to this particular blog. You can safely just refer to me singly.

I'm a luna moth-like fae. This is a weird astral/magical paradigm thing. Currently, energetically, I'm a faery, and this affects pretty much my entire pagan and magical practice. If I stopped having a magical worldview, I'd stop being fae. I didn't exactly choose to be fae but I do choose to continue being fae. I don't 'have memories' of being fae, because I'm fae right now.

I'm also a noncanon 'background character' sort of civilian reploid from the Mega Man X series. It's some kind of other lifetime thing that I don't think even tracks to a past or future life in any kind of linear way.

I don't refer to myself as otherkin. I generally steer away from otherkin terminology. 'Nonhuman' is my preferred term.

That being said I also identify as human too, because I'm living a human life in a human body in human society.

I have very strong opinions.

Like just in general, but especially on the topic of whether one can choose to be nonhuman.

Short answer: yes. Long answer: yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees.

More seriously I post about it with some frequency so you can probably find my thoughts on it easily enough.

I don't care for DNIs. I don't have one. If I don't want to interact with someone, I just won't.

If you have a DNI, I might or might not even notice it. I mostly don't think it's reasonable to expect someone to have to find a list that may be hidden in a funky blog theme and know a bunch of discourse stance names before even reblogging something.

That said, the two that come up the most seem to be anti/pro-fiction and endogenic systems, so I guess I can state what I think about those real briefly and you can make up your own mind:

Fiction, reality, and censorship are far too complex to boil down into two opposing stances of "literally anything is permissable" and "won't somebody think of the children." I do not subscribe to either 'side' because they're both gravely oversimplifying the issue.

(This is not the same as neutral or undecided, by the way. This is a distinct third opinion.)

If someone tells me their mind(s) works in a way, I believe them, because they live there and I do not. There is no endpoint in the human experience that cannot be reached via several different means. I think there's a lot more commonality between types of plurality than there are differences, and exploring that is not possible while people are entrenched into two opposing camps. I think it's entirely possible to be supportive to all types of plurality without treating it as some kind of zero-sum game.

(For the record, I'm traumagenic, and that's all you're getting from me about it.)

Anyway I also do not at all care for coining new micro terms, making up flags, or mood boards. I block blogs who specialize in these so I don't have to look at them in tag searches. Nothing personal.

I think that's it? I probably missed stuff, but that's what the edit button is for.

[josiebelladonna]

the amount of people in the grunge fandom who are like “i want to move to seattle because i’m a grunge fan” is honestly hilarious because i have been to seattle a couple of times, and i also have friends up there, and i can easily tell you that it is nothing like that anymore.

what you want to see up there is very minuscule and it’s one of those things where it’s like… you really, REALLY have to know where to look, like social media being a double edged sword really comes out in this way. you see like—i’m just going to use an old example but—jeff ament repainting the mother love bone wall during quarantine and you might think “oh, it’s coming back”, but see, offhand, i couldn’t tell you where it is. i have to look it up or ask one of my friends up there where it is and even then, they would probably have to look for it. west seattle is nothing like it is in singles: it’s actually kind of upscale now.

i see people on here like magpiewithacamera or fluttergirl (who blocked me for some reason, one of the first to have blocked me without a good or even legitimate reason because it’s not like i said anything bad about her before—i just said something she disagreed with and reacted in childish fashion before it was in vogue to do such a thing—y’all really need to stop doing this, not just to me but in general. you can’t be so butthurt by someone else’s opinion that you feel compelled to block them out of your life. i get it with myself because i’m just a naturally born devil’s advocate but it’s not like i bully people, though). anyway, i see the two of them going to see jerry cantrell and calling themselves “grunge tourists” and i… have to laugh. the whole “20 years behind” trope was going to hit gen x at some point but i didn’t think it was going to be so depressing, though. like… you guys are nostalgic for a time when it was considered cool to do nothing all day and heroin was commonplace.

i understand the nostalgia completely: this scene is precious to me. i discovered it when i was a kid growing up during a time of economic hardship and with alcoholic parents and so it resonated with me. but when applied to reality, it gets rather ridiculous and not to mention, depressing, real quick.

i have a friend who moved to the northwest from pittsburgh back in 2015. in the seven years she has lived in seattle, she was homeless for months, in not one but two abusive relationships, got hooked on heroin, and almost overdosed and died on the street. she’s clean and in portland right now but i can tell just looking at her she isn’t happy.

i have another friend who moved to seattle in 2016 from moreno valley, out in the desert. she wanted the full gen x/grunger experience, complete with her being a musician. i could probably count on one hand how many times i’ve seen her play guitar and sing (singing voice is okay but it’s nothing to write home about. she sounds like every other female singer right now.) every time i see her, she’s on a tiresome feminist rant—and i mean, tiresome. just to give you an idea, she’s one of those pro-life feminists and there is literally no convincing her of a second opinion, like maybe she’s wrong or her beliefs are actually very destructive and lined up with extreme prejudice.

take this from me: when you make any sort of art, promote the shit out of it. your rants and thoughts can be there (and fuck anyone who says otherwise because it’s not their account or career), but your creation should be the rule, not the exception. i have no clue what she wants, whether she wants to be in a band or go solo. i have never seen her record anything—when he worked as a seafood chef, chris always found a way to record himself.

the one place i would say is genuinely close to the whole dream of the 90s spiel is georgetown in the southern part of town, right outside of sea-tac, and… i’m not a liar, i won’t lie to you guys—i wouldn’t recommend going there alone. just trust me on this. don’t go to georgetown by yourself.

it’s also crazy expensive. i’m seeing accounts like wizwoe trying to save up money from their art to move up there and god bless them for it but every time i see their art or a promo from them, i just think “dude, you’re going to be 50 by the time you get settled in up there” (and a lot can change in a year, too, who knows what seattle will be like 20 years from now or next year, or, hell, even six months from now). i’m a little biased here because every time i see wizwoe’s art, it’s like “god, this is so close to being good in my eyes but it’s just a bit off, though”. i want to like it but it does very little for me, like i don’t get the appeal.

speaking of art, i have another friend up there who recently started making art of her own and she actually had her own display at a street fair back on sunday and she walked away with bupkiss. really, she made no money at all from it. xana la fuente (andy wood’s fiancée, also a very good friend of mine) is actually trying to leave seattle: really, she’s been selling off things so she can be self-sustaining and has been less than successful with it. so, i wish wizwoe good luck—i always wish artists good luck because we all could use it, especially now.

and i can’t believe how fucking territorial this fandom is now. the whole bullshit with me is tip of the iceberg, like you better agree with us otherwise you’re scum, you’re disgusting, get out of here freak. i came to the grunge fandom because i wanted to be a part of it, i wanted to be with people who loved that scene as much as me, and i really felt like i could be myself in it, raging warts and all. but no: i was problematic. i said something that fluttergirl took too seriously and had to be catty, and it was beginning of the end there. trevor noah says it’s easier to be poor when you know that it’s commonplace around you, you know that your friends and your neighbors are struggling, too, rather than being poor amongst affluence and seeing what you know what you’re missing out on. granted, he was talking about growing up in apartheid south africa, but it struck a chord with me. when you’re someone who has moved around from social group to social group for most of your life, and you finally find a place that you think is home, but then… you do something stupid, or something controversial and you find out no one really likes you, it hurts like hell. you see everyone else having fun with each other and you just can’t help but withdraw, like the poor kid you are. 

but at the same time, you can’t help but laugh. these people are out of their minds, chasing quicksand and a pipe dream. you say “they’ll learn”, because you know they will. it’s a question of when.

[alinacapellabooks]

OC Smash Or Pass!

@jezifster made this an open tag, so fuck it, let’s do this. Going with Kunio because I know him best (And also because the print version of The Tengu And The Angel is coming out this year! Not sure when. Ebook is available now, with links on my pinned post)

Anyway, here’s Kunio Yoshioka, MC of my novel, The Tengu And The Angel:

So, a few basic details:

Pronouns: He/him

Orientation: Homoromantic homosexual

Age: 18

Pros:

-He’s a great cook, mostly of Japanese food. He has a folder full of family recipes that he inherited from his grandpa, and while he tends to stick to making Japanese food because he grew up with it, and it’s what he knows best, he’ll gladly experiment with other cultures’ cuisines. He’s also pretty fond of Italian food, and I mean authentic Italian food. If he makes you spaghetti carbonara, he will use eggs, guanciale, pecorino Romano, pepper, and spaghetti. No cream, or onions, or anything that would make it inauthentic

-He is a thoughtful gift-giver. If he knows that you want something, he will 100% get it for you, and he’ll stop at nothing to give you the perfect gift for special occasions

-He’s a skilled ballroom dancer, and he can swing and jive very well. Ever wanted to feel like the main character of a 1920s romance movie? Well, you will when he takes you dancing

-He’s an exceptionally talented sculptor, and he will make a lot of things for you, sometimes for no reason at all. He will make you custom figures of your DND character, or design a dragon keychain catered exactly to your tastes

-Big on pet names, but he will use a unique pet name for you based on whichever fantasy being you remind him of the most. He calls his boyfriend, Nathaniel, an angel, because he’s selfless, kind, and pure of heart

-Are you a hopeless people pleaser who can’t say no to save your life? Not anymore! Kunio will help you stand up for yourself, and he’ll stand up for you if you don’t have the courage to do it yourself

Cons:

-Hates being touched. Don’t so much as attempt to hold his hand without his express consent

-Has extensive trauma and PTSD from his childhood, and though he’ll try to hide it as best he can so as not to worry you, you’ll know all about it anyway. He will likely wake you up, screaming and thrashing about from night terrors, and absolutely do not smoke around him or he will dissociate

-Hope you like bottoming, because Kunio HATES being a bottom. He will never bottom for you, ever

-He has a massive ego to compensate for a complete and utter lack of self worth. He wants to be treated with the highest possible amount of love and affection, but if you show him any genuine affection, he won’t know how to handle it at all. Give him a compliment about anything other than his art or cooking skills, and he will implode

So, what do you think? Smash or pass?

[sugarbooger513]

Mine (Stepbrother!ChosoxFem!Reader)

This is my collaboration piece for @severelytalentless Are You Afraid of the Dark collab! I had a lot of fun writing this... work. I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you to my very amazing friends who helped me out during this piece, especially my wifey @kentosovertime and my bestie @roughwithfluff. It wouldn't have ended up as well written as it did without the help.

Warnings: stepcest, possessive nature, unprotected sex (wrap your willies), oral (fem receiving), spit, Choso slaps reader in the face like once, he also slaps in another place, daddy kink, dom Choso, Choso is very petty, mentions of cheating ex, mentions of alcohol and nicotine consumption, degradation, praise, slight breeding kink if you squint

"Don't bother calling me anymore! I see what's more important to you.." You hang up your cell phone and throw it across the room. Your bed feels colder than it usually does, but you lay on it anyways, allowing your tears to flow onto your pillow.

Your boyfriend, now ex, of two years had called you with a plea, begging for your forgiveness. How could you forgive him, though? When you heard about your best friend sleeping with him, you couldn't get the image out of your head. You knew she thought he was attractive, but there was never a worry in your mind that either of them would take it anywhere.

You sit up, suddenly realizing that he would be on his way home from work in an hour, maybe two. You had to leave before he got home. It wasn't like you feared he would hurt you for leaving him, but he would certainly try to guilt you into staying with him.

Your heart rate increases when you realize that you have no idea where you can go. He knows all of your family, and is pretty loved by all of them. Your stepmom even has the habit of calling him her son. 'Her son...'

You rush to grab your phone, dialing the all too familiar number. If there's one person in your family you can call, it's the one he's scared of.

"Y/N," your step brother lets out a long yawn after answering, "what's up?" "B-bubs.." You can hear him drop something on his end. "Honey, why are you crying?" "He.. he cheated on me.. with her.. you were right.."

Choso bites the inside of his cheek, suddenly enraged at the thought. He never liked that guy. When they first met, Choso punched him in the jaw for being an asshole. You were mad at him at the time, but eventually understood why he did it. Since then, your ex was too scared to look Choso in the eyes.

Still, he now finds himself smiling.

"I'm so sorry, honey. Is there anything I can do?" Your sniffle makes him clench his fist. "He's going.. to be home s-soon." "Drive over here. I'll set up the guest-" "C-can you get me..? I don't want him tracking my car.."

Your pitiful voice goes straight to his crotch. Even though no one else is at his home, he finds himself trying to conceal his half hard cock with the kitchen counter.

"Of course, honey. Pack a bag. I'll be there in twenty." "I-I love you, Choso.. thank you." He has to bite his lip to keep from moaning. "I love you too, honey."

When he hangs up, he groans loudly and places his head on the cool marble. "Okay," he talks to himself aloud, "just.. keep yourself in control. You got this, Choso. She's your step sister, for Christ's sake." He shakes his head, grabbing his keys.

Still, he can't deny the things you do to him. It makes him feel terrible, but you're so damn tempting. He always figured that your hugs would last a little too long, your eyes scanned him a little too much, your hands lingered on him a little too suggestively.

He knew better, though. Your teenage years were spent on tons of dates with guys who were the complete opposite of your stepbrother. He would sit in his bedroom, no doubt on a video game, while he listened to guy after guy go in and out of your bedroom. It wasn't like you were a whore.

Those guys just eventually showed their true colors.

He knows that when you love, you love with your entire heart. That's why he was there for you through every heartbreak. He would hold you for hours, dry your tears with his own shirts, make you your favorite snacks, take you on long walks so you weren't cooped in the house all day.

Why? Well, because in his mind you already belonged to him.

You pace your living room, already holding your overnight bag in your hand. Of course, you'll probably stay with Choso more than one night, unless your dad tells you to stay with him and your stepmom instead.

Who are you kidding? If Choso offers to let you stay longer, you would much rather stay there.

Your front door opens, and you jump in fear that your ex came back early. "Shhh, honey it's me." "C-Cho.." Choso walks across the room in quick strides to pull you into his strong embrace.

His hands gently cradle you against his body. "He doesn't deserve your tears Y/N. Don't give him the satisfaction." "Y-you tell me that after every breakup, Choso.." "I know. That's because none of them deserve your kindness."

You close your eyes and feel yourself relax in his strong arms. He's never let you down. Choso has been the only guy in your life to prove he would always be there for you. You truly trust him with your life.

That being said, you can't ignore the feelings that have formed over the years for your stepbrother.

Your fingers grip his shirt in an attempt to pull him even closer to you. He sighs softly and buries his face in your hair. "Is there anything I can do for you, Y/N?" "Just... don't leave me. Please?"

His heart pounds in his chest at your feeble plea. His throat seems to dry, so he can't manage to speak. Finally, after what feels like an hour, he clears his throat.

"You know I won't, Y/N. I never have." "And never will?" His large hands squeeze your body a bit harshly, but your breath only increases at the feeling.

"I never will. Now, why don't we get you loaded into the car and get you home?" You finally pull away, blinking your still teary eyes at him so innocently. "Home..?"

The look on your face has his body on fire. You look so damn innocent, just like an angel. They're still red and puffy from your crying, but that only has him straining in his pants.

The things he would give to take the innocence from your face this second..

"Of course. My home is yours for as long as you need." He jingles his keys in an attempt for you to hurry and follow.

"What.. what about as long as I want..?"

That sentence has him blushing furiously. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course. You're family and I love you, so my home is yours. We should go though. I don't want to-" His sentence is cut short when you wrap your small arms around his frame.

"Cho.. you're the only person in my life that cares this much.." "Don't say that, princess. You know that isn't true." His large hands are so gentle as they rub your back comfortingly. The small action has your heart pounding.

It also has your core burning for more.

"I-I want to stay with you." "Princess, then why are we still here?" There's a hint of laughter in his teasing tone. "I mean.. stay with you." You bury your face in his broad chest, hoping desperately that he gets the hint.

And oh boy does he ever. He can't help the small groan that escapes his throat at the mere thought.

"Y/N.. you don't mean that." You finally look up, shocked at the tint of rosiness on his usually pale cheeks.

"I-I do mean it.. You're the only guy who has ever-" "I'm family." "Not blood. D-Don't act like you don't feel the same Choso!" His eyes widen, and your accusation has him backing away from you, causing your hope to falter. Had you been mistaken this entire time? Had the stares and lingering touches really just been his own way of showing platonic affection.

"Choso.. I-" "Am I truly that obvious, Y/N?" You blink once, twice before giggling softly. "Y-yeah.. have I not been?" "No. Your.. attention always seemed to be on others. I just assumed.. you saw me as your big brother." You shake your head, walking slowly to stand directly in front of him again.

You've always thought his eyes were gorgeous, a slight grey tint over the almost golden color, they truly are their own unique shade, but right now they seem even brighter.

"I.. I was scared. People would.. call us freaks if anything came of any attraction to each other. I mean.. we've known forever that we weren't related, but our parents have been married-" "Going on ten years now. Even dated for five years before that. Trust me," his hand reaches to touch your cheek gently, as if he's afraid he could break you, "I've been bouncing the pros and cons in my head for so many fucking years."

Your cheek fits so easily in his palm, as if it was made to be there. "So.. who gives a damn about the cons anymore?" His eyes darken at your words, suddenly not focused on your gaze, but your lips. "I don't think I do, Princess." He suddenly turns the two of you, pressing your body into the wall that was originally behind him.

His lips hover centimeters over yours, making you whimper pathetically. "Tell me what you want. I'll give it to you, Y/N." His lips turn at the corners, making the already handsome guy seem even more so. Your hands reach out, gripping the loose t-shirt he's wearing tightly. "I-I need you, Cho. P-please?"

"Well, why don't we take this little.. fiasco to my place?" "No." He tilts his head in confusion as you smirk. "Fuck me on his bed.. onii-chan."

His lips are on yours the instant that word leaves your mouth. Despite the fact you're almost certain that Choso doesn't know what lip balm is, his lips are so plush and soft. It catches you off guard, causing you to moan softly in his mouth.

He isn't shy about exploring your body either. His hands grab every bit of plushness they can. Your hips, thighs, ass, until he finally reaches your breasts. His hands squeeze them harshly, not caring about any actual pain he could bring. You gasp in the kiss, which allows his tongue to finally invade your mouth, easily taking over as the dominant one.

He tastes faintly of cheap wine and cigarettes, but that doesn't shock you. You've spent multiple nights in his room smoking and drinking after rough breakups.

You have to smack at his shoulder a few times before he pulls away, leaving a strand of saliva connecting the two of you. He lets out a deep growl before grabbing your arm to yank you upstairs.

He kicks the bedroom door open, not caring about possibly busting the damn thing. "I have waited for so fucking long," he shoves you onto the queen sized bed that you once shared with your ex, "to have you all to myself. Now that I have you..." He pulls the shirt over his head, causing your eyes to shamelessly wander over his toned body. He catches your gaze, causing him to lick his bottom lip in anticipation. "Oh I am never letting you out of my grasp now, little one."

You sit up and, without a second thought, throw your shirt off and into the floor. "A bit possessive, are we?" He chuckles a bit darkly. "I don't see you complaining. Besides," he rips your pants off in one fluid motion, purring at the dark spot already staining your panties, "it seems you know who you belong to." His head is almost instantly between your legs, his hands shoving your thighs open effortlessly.

He licks a long stripe up your covered slit, causing you to mewl. "Go ahead, princess, tell me exactly who owns you." This time he places a small kiss just over your clit. "F-fuck, you!" "Hmmm," his hand comes down to smack your pussy with an unnecessary amount of force. "Not good enough. Try again." He lands another smack, this one making tears prick your eyes.

"W-what do y-you want-" you cry out as he lands two more smacks on you. The pain is startling at first, but it quickly has you moaning in pleasure. "How about that fun little nickname you've given so many men that have entered your bedroom?" You squeak, making him chuckle. "Oh come on, there's no way you thought I never heard you. Always had the fucking nerve," another smack, this one even harder, "to cry out for other men while I was in my bedroom dreaming of making those pretty eyes cry in my bed. Come on, call me that sweet little name and I'll fuck you better than any of those assholes could have."

The last smack has you screaming, and you can't seem to care that any of your neighbors could hear. "D-Daddy! Y-You own me! I-it's always been you, I swear daddy! P-Please fuck me, I-I need it!"

He groans loudly before ripping your panties from your body. "I'll have to remember that you beg beautifully once I get you home." Two of his fingers spread you apart, and he smirks at the puddle of essence already pooling on the bed. "So fucking wet for me, aren't you?" He doesn't give you a chance to answer before he buries his face in you, eating you out like a man starved.

The sudden onslaught of pleasure makes you try and clamp your thighs closed, but one of his hands shoves it back down. His eyes look up at you as he continues to lap at your drooling pussy. The stare speaks every word he can't at the moment.

This is for his pleasure, not yours, and you're meant to lay back and take what he's giving you.

Your fingers tangle in his raven hair, and the slight pain has him growling against you. His lips wrap around your throbbing clit, sucking harshly, and he shoves two fingers into you without any warning.

You knew beforehand that Choso had slept with at least a few women, so he's not inexperienced, but you never knew that he was this experienced. His long fingers curl into you, pushing against the spot that has you screaming his name to the heavens. He has to rut against your mattress in a desperate attempt to get some sort of relief.

"D-Daddy.. I-I'm g-gonna cum.." He could already tell. Your walls sucked his fingers in as soon as they entered you, so he knew you wouldn't last much longer. "Hmmm," his sharp teeth nip your clit gently, but it still makes you squeak, "I sure hope you aren't telling daddy what you're going to do.. That would be awfully rude of you, little one."

The sheer dominance and control radiating from him has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Since when was your sweet step brother so demanding? "C-can I please cum, daddy? I-It feels t-too good.." You feel that damn smirk against your clit. "Of course, baby. Just scream my name when you do it, okay?"

He really must not like you talking much, because he doesn't let you answer him before he starts ruthlessly pounding his fingers into your cunt. Your entire body arches from the bed as you cry out for him. It takes one last flick of his tongue on your swollen bud to have you writing in the bed, coming completely undone before he even pulled his pants off.

He slows down, but doesn't completely stop, allowing you to ride out your high as he uses his tongue to lap up every drop of sweetness pouring from you. "Good girl, I've got you sweetheart. Are you feeling up for more, or do you need to stop until we go home?"

He sits up, eyeballing your form as he licks his lips clean, ignoring the fact he's dripping your own cum from his chin onto you.

You giggle, still a bit spaced out from the intense orgasm. "W-want you.. inside me, please daddy?" He chuckles softly before reaching to finally unhook your bra and fling it to the side. "Of course baby. Where are your condoms?" "D-Don't have any. I'm on.. the pill." His cheeks flush a bit, but he doesn't question anything else.

He makes quick work of his sweatpants, leaving him in only his boxers. The outline of his cock alone has you snapping back to reality. When he pulls the boxers down, you outwardly moan when it slaps back against his abdomen. He's much bigger than any guy you've had before. Also, it's so.. pretty.

The shaft is a lot like the rest of his skin, a very pale color that almost shines if sunlight hits it. The head is a soft pink, very reminiscent of the blushes he always seemed to get if you teased him too much, with droplets of precum around it. A large vein runs from the underside of it, and you can see it actually throb the more he stares at you.

"See something you like, love?" You whimper at the very affectionate nickname. "I-is it going to fit? I mean.. I've never.." "Don't worry, little one," he gently lays you back, "daddy will get it to fit. If it hurts too much, just let me know. Okay?" he grabs one of your exes' pillows, placing it gently under your lower back. "O-okay, daddy. I trust you."

His smile warms your heart. "That's my good girl. Spread your legs for me." You nod, following his instructions immediately. His hand reaches between the two of you, grabbing his cock and gently rubbing the tip around your entrance. "You sure you want this, Y/N? I don't want you to feel forced." You whimper, nodding instantly. "P-please fuck me, Choso.. I've waited so long.." You spread your legs more, effortlessly enticing him.

When his tip enters you, you're already a moaning mess. It just feels too good. He watches your expressions intently as he slowly pushes into you, searching for any signs of discomfort. Once he's about halfway in, he stops completely.

"How you doin' baby? Any pain?" He leans down to give you a gentle kiss. "G-good. I-it kinda burns, but nothing bad, I promise." He smiles against your mouth and starts to push in again. "We're almost there, little one. Just- fuuuuck." He finally bottoms out, the stretch of it making you whimper loudly and wiggle around. He pants on your face, the scent of you still heavy on his breath.

"S-so fucking tight.. can't believe this is happening..”

He chuckles softly, giving a tentative thrust into your heat. You bite down on your lip, finding both pain and pleasure in the burn that courses through your body. "D-daddy-" He cuts off the rest of your sentence by leaning back onto his knees and grabbing the back of both of your thighs. He manhandles you easily into what you can only assume is a mating press.

"So easy to throw around, aren't you? My pretty baby.." He pulls out of you until only his tip is still inside before slamming back in, causing you to see stars. "You take cock like a pro, baby. I wasn't sure a cute little thing like you could handle it." You tighten around him at his foul language, causing him to growl. "I'm gonna ruin you for anyone else, baby. I'll make sure I'm the only one who can make you scream. You want that, baby? Want daddy to fuck the imprint of his cock into your slutty little hole?"

You throw your head back and cry out for him. "P-please! Make me your little toy, daddy. W-want you to own me.. prove who I belong to, please?" You know you've done it now from the way he snarls at you. However, the sudden ringing of your phone makes both of you freeze. He leans back up to wrap your thighs around his torso.

He's the first to reach to the floor and grab it, still buried deep inside of you. "Oh, lookie there.. a video call. Hello?" Did he-

"Choso? Where is Y/N? Why do you have her phone?" Your ex's voice sounds from the speaker, making your eyes shoot open. You meet Choso's eyes, mouthing the words 'hang up' over and over.

"What does it matter? She dumped you and called me." "Of course she did. Dude, let me talk to her." Choso chuckles darkly, finally thrusting into you, making you squeak loudly despite your best effort to stay quiet.

"What was that?" "Y/N. She's currently.. held up. Or.. down, rather." He smirks at his own joke, reaching down his free hand to start circling your clit with his middle finger. The feeling has you tightening your thighs around his waist.

"You... what?" "Are you deaf and stupid? I said she's busy, aren't you little one?" He smirks down at your form, panting and shaking your head in a desperate, silent plea. This can not be how everyone finds out about this. No way in hell.

Choso's mocking pout makes your face flare up. "She seems a little shy. Let me show you instead." "N-no! Choso I-!" The choking gasp from the phone call shuts you up. Choso's eyes show no mercy as he looks at you almost amused. "That isn't what you should be calling me, is it?"

You look directly at the camera on the back of your phone, your face a deep scarlet color. Before you can correct yourself, the hand that was idly playing with your clit launches up, smacking your cheek with enough force to have your eyes switch to his. He smirks and shoves his index and middle fingers in your mouth without warning, making the ring he wears clack a bit painfully into your teeth.

"Pretty little whore just needs to learn some manners. Don't you, love?" He gets a wicked grin seeing how you blabber around his digits, trying so desperately to behave and give him an answer. "Sorry, princess, I didn't quite hear you. Try again for daddy." He shoves his fingers farther down your throat, causing you to gag and cough. Spit pours out of your kiss bruised lips, making Choso moan above you.

Your teary eyes make him pull his fingers out, wiping the spit across your face. "Why didn't you tell me you couldn't speak? Silly little girl. Now, what should you be calling me?" "D-Daddy! I'm s-so sorry.." He groans, running his thumb down your bottom lip. He gently pries your mouth open before leaning over you, letting spit fall from his tongue into your waiting mouth. He purrs as you swallow it so obediently. "I know you are. You're such a good girl for me. Oh, he hung up." Choso chuckles softly and tosses your phone back to the floor.

"I believe that I have some work to finish, right baby?" Both of his hands grab your hips, surely leaving bruises, before he starts to mercilessly ram into your sopping cunt. Your throat is still somewhat raw from his fingers being in it not two minutes ago, but he's determined to pull every sound he can from you.

He slides one hand down, harshly pinching and rolling your swollen clit between two fingers. Your cries only encourage his ruthless actions.

"D-daddy I-I.. something.. something doesn't-" Your pleas are cut off when the hand on your hip actually lifts you off the bed, giving him enough access for the tip of his cock to batter into your cervix.

If you aren't sore tomorrow, he hasn't done his job.

Sweat drips down his forehead and chest as he growls deeply. "There we go baby. T-that's the spot. Cum for daddy, want you screaming until my name is the only t-thing you know." His hand starts slapping your exposed clit again, finally throwing you over the edge. When the coil in your abdomen snaps, you scream his name, raw throat be damned.

Choso hisses as you tighten around his cock, spraying his lower abdomen in your essence. "Sh-shit I-" His sentence trails off when he thrusts into you one more time, letting out an animalistic snarl as his own climax washes over him.

You can feel his cock throb as he unloads his seed deep inside you. The feeling makes you tremble and mewl. There's so much of it that it still manages to spill out, staining the bed sheets under you.

He's still panting pretty heavily when he slides out of you, careful in case you're still too sensitive. When you squeak, he reaches up to cup your cheek. "You did so well, baby. I'm so proud of you." You nuzzle into his hand, placing a small kiss in the palm. "Th-thank you, daddy. I-I'm so tired." When your eyes start to flutter shut, he carefully stands from the bed, shamelessly admiring your disheveled state. "I'm sure you are. Let me get us cleaned up. Then I'll take you home, okay?"

Your small nod is plenty of an answer, so he rushes to the bathroom to search for a rag. He takes only a few seconds to wipe himself clean before rushing back to your side. You wince slightly at the feeling of the cloth wiping you down. "Shhhh, daddy's got you baby. I'll be done in just a second." He smiles to himself as you visibly relax into his touch, allowing him to finish.

"You know," he chuckles as he helps you pull your clothes back on, "your dad is going to try and kill me." "Your mom is going to call me every name in the book." He nods in agreement, finally starting to dress himself.

"So.. should we stay quiet? I imagine shit-for-brain isn't going to, but we can play that off as him being an idiot." You bite your lip, weighing the consequences of either decision.

There's no doubt in your mind, you want to be with Choso. It's clear he's willing to do whatever you want, but from the look in his eyes, the answer is obvious.

"I'm not hiding it." He blinks at you in shock. "B-baby.. your repu-" You stand up, despite your legs screaming in pain. He's quick to rush over and pull you into his chest. "I don't care.. I love you, and I don't want to hide it anymore." You squeak loudly when he picks you up bridal style, holding you easily with one arm.

The kiss he gives you is soft and loving, full of nothing but his affection for you. "I love you too, Y/N. I want nothing more than to tell the world that."

He carries you downstairs to grab your overnight bag, and then out to put you in his car. He really refuses to let you do anything, since he even leans inside to buckle you up. Your protests have him laughing. "When you're with me," he kisses your lips after getting into the driver's seat, "you're the spoiled princess. Got it?"

The drive to his house is quiet. He holds your hand the entire time, stroking along it with his thumb, occasionally bringing it to his mouth and kissing each knuckle.

"Oh.. oh shit." "What?" You open your eyes from almost falling asleep.

Your blood freezes when you see what he's looking at. Your dad's car is already parked in his driveway.

Tags: @katgalle, @savonline

[thebibliosphere]

So I'm currently unemployed because I got fired for taking too much sick leave (it was legally sketchy blah blah blah but in the end I just can't work and take care of myself and investigate my mystery health problems at the same time). So I've been spending more time writing!

I really admire your writing and loved Hunger Pangs. I'm looking forward to the poly elements developing and I'm wondering if you have any advice for writing about poly. I've made one of my projects a snarky take on "write what you know" ... Apparently what I know is southern gothic meets Pacific northwest gothic, chronic illness pandemic surrealism, and falling back-asswards into threesomes.

I know this is a very open-ended question and I don't expect an answer, I'm just curious about it if you have the energy. As a writer, trying to write honestly / realistically about polyamory/enm, I'm curious if you have any thoughts on what's different about portraying monogamy or nonmonogamy in books, romance or erotica or otherwise.

I'm trying to read examples but it's hard to find examples that fit the niche I'm looking at. Excuse me if this question is nonsense, it's the cluster headaches.

I'm sorry to hear you've been dealing with all that and solidarity on the cluster headaches. But I'm glad you're finding an outlet through writing! And I hope you're happy with an open-ended ramble in response because oh boy, there's a lot I could talk about and I could probably do a better job of answering this sort of thing with more specific questions, but let's see where we end up.

There's definitely a big difference between writing polyamory/ENM (ethical non-monogamy) and what people often expect from monogamous love stories.

Just even from a purely sales and marketing standpoint, the moment you write anything polyamorous (or even just straight up LGBTQIA+ without the ENM) you're going to get considered closer to being erotica/obscene than hetero romances. It's an unfair bias, but it's one that exists in our society. But also the Amazon algorithm and their shitty, shitty human censors. Especially the ones that work the weekends. (Talking to you, Carlos 🖕.)

So not only do you start out hyper-aware that you're writing something that is highly stigmatized or fetishized (at least I'm hyper-aware) but that you are also writing for a niche market that is starving for positive content because the content that exists is either limited, not what they want, or is problematic in some fashion i.e. highly stigmatized or fetishy. And even then, the wants, desires, and expectations of the community you're writing for are complex and wildly varied and hard to fit into an easy formula.

When writing monogamous love stories, there is a set expectation that’s really hard to fuck up once you know it. X person meets Y. Attraction happens, followed by some sort of minor conflict/resolution. Other plot may happen. A greater catalyst involving personal growth for both parties (hopefully) happens. Follow the equation to its ultimate resolution and achieve Happily Ever After. 

But writing ENM is... a lot more difficult, if only because of the pure scope of possibilities. You could try to follow the same equation and shove three (or more) people into it, but it rarely works well. Usually because if you’re doing it right, you won’t have enough room in a single character arc to allow for enough growth, and if ENM requires anything in abundance, it’s room to grow.

And this post is huge so I’m going to put the rest under a cut :)

There's also a common refrain in certain online polyam/ENM circles that triads and throuples are overrepresented in media and they may be right to some extent. Personally, I believe the issue isn't that triads and throuples are overrepresented, but that there is such minuscule positive rep of ethical non-monogamy in general, that the few tiny instances we have of triads in media make it seem like it's "everywhere" when in actuality, it's still quite rare and the media we do have often veers into Unicorn Hunter fetish porn. Which is its own problematic thing. And just to be clear, I’m not including this part to dissuade you from writing "falling back-asswards into threesomes." If anything, I need more of it and would hook it directly into my brain if I could. I'm just throwing it out there into the void in the hope that someone will take the thought and run with it, lol.

I’d love to see more polyfidelitous rep in fiction, just as much as I’d like to see more relationship anarchy too. More diversity in fiction is always good.

Another thing that differs in writing ENM romance vs conventional monogamy is the feeling like you need to justify yourself. There's a lot of pressure to be as healthy and non-problematic as possible because you are being held to a higher standard of criticism. Both from people from without the ENM communities, and from the people within. Granted, some people don't give a shit and just want to read some fantastic porn (valid) but there are those who will cheerfully read Fifty Shades of Bullshit and call it "spicy" and "romantic," then turn around and call the most tooth-rottingly-sweet-fluff about a queer platonic polycule heresy. That's just the way the world works.

(Pro-tip for author life in general: never read your own reviews; that way madness lies. I glimpsed one the other day that tagged Hunger Pangs as “ethical cheating” and just about had an aneurism.)

And while that feeling of needing to justify yourself comes from a valid place of being excluded from the table of socially accepted norms, it can also be to the detriment of both the story and the subject matter at hand. I've seen some authors bend so far over backward to avoid being problematic in their portrayal of ENM, they end up being problematic for entirely different reasons. Usually because they give such a skewed, rose-tinted perspective of how things work, it ends up coming off as well... a bit culty and obnoxious tbh.

“Look how enlightened we are, freed from the trappings of monogamy and jealousy! We’re all so honest and perfect and happy!”

Yeah, uhu, sure Jan. Except here’s the thing, not all jealousy is bad. How you act on it can be, but jealousy itself is an important tool in the junk drawer that is the range of human emotion. It can clue us in to when we’re feeling sad or neglected, which in turn means we should figure out why we’re feeling those things. Sometimes it’s because brains are just like that and anxiety is a thing. Other times it’s because our needs are actually being neglected and we are in an unhealthy situation we need to remedy. You gotta put the work in to figure it out. Which is the same as any style of relationship, whether it’s mono, polyam or whatever flavor of ENM you subscribe to* And sometimes you just gotta be messy, because that’s how humans are. Being afraid to show that mess makes it a dishonest portrayal, and it also robs you of some great cannon fodder for character development.

Which brings me in a roundabout way to my current pet peeve in how certain writers take monogamous ideals and apply them to ENM, sometimes without even realizing it. The “Find the Right Person and Settle Down” trope.

Often, in this case, ENM or polyamory is treated as a phase. Something you mature out of with age or until you meet “The One(tm).” This is, of course, an attempt to follow the mono style formula expected in most romances. And while it might appeal to many readers, it’s uh, actually quite insulting. 

To give an example, I am currently seeing this a lot in the Witcher fandom. 

Fanon Netflix!Jaskier is everyone's favorite ethical slut until he meets Geralt then woops, wouldn’t you know, he just needed to find The One(tm). Suddenly, all his other sexual and romantic exploits or attractions mean nothing to him. Let's watch as he throws away a core aspect of his personality in favor of a man. 

Yeah... that sure showed those societal norms... 

If I were being generous, I’d say it’s a poor attempt at showing New Relationship Euphoria and how wrapped up people can become in new relationships. But honestly, it’s monogamous bias eking its way in to validate how special and unique the relationship is. Because sometimes people really can’t think of any other way to show how important and valid a relationship is without defining it in terms of exclusivity. Which is a fundamental misunderstanding of how ENM works for a lot of people and invalidates a lot of loving, serious and long-term relationships.

This is not to say that some polyam/poly-leaning people can't be happy in monogamous relationships! I am! (I consider myself ambiamorous. I'm happy with either monogamy or polyamory, it really just depends on the relationship(s) I’m in.) But I also don't regard my relationship with a mono partner as "settling down" or "growing up." It's just a choice I made to be with a person I love, and it's a valid one. Just like choosing to never close yourself off to multiple relationships is valid. And I wish more people realized that, or rather, I wish the people writing these things knew that :P

Anyway, I think I’ve rambled enough. I hope this collection of incoherent thoughts actually makes some sense and might be useful. 

----

*A good resource book that doesn't pull any punches in this regard is Polysecure by Jessica Fern. It's a wonderfully insightful read that explores the messier side of consensual non-monogamy, especially with how it can be affected by trauma or inter-relationship conflicts. But it also shows how to take better steps toward healthy, ethical non-monogamy (a far better job than More Than Two**) and conflict resolution, making it a valuable resource both for someone who is a part of this relationship style***, but also for writers on the outside looking in who might have a very simple or misguided idea of what conflict within polyam/ENM relationships might look like, vs traditional monogamous ones.

** The author of More Than Two has been accused of multiple accounts of abuse within the polyamorous community, with many of his coauthors having spoken out about the gaslighting and emotional and psychological damage they experienced while in a relationship with him. A lot of their stories are documented here: https://www.itrippedonthepolystair.com/ (warning: it is not light material and deals with issues of abuse, gaslighting, and a whole other plethora of Yikes.) While some people still find More Than Two helpful reading, there are now, thankfully, much, much better resources out there.

*** Some people consider polyam/ENM to be part of their identity or orientation, while others view it as a relationship style.It largely depends on the individual. 

[hispipsqueak]

Burned

Enji Todoroki x F!Reader - NSFW

A/N: So @cozykozume​ wanted me to name this “Cooling Down the Fire Daddy” so there’s that. Anyways, in case you didn’t know, I LOVE Enji Todoroki....like an extraordinary amount. Which is hilarious, because I started the series hating him but I digress. So here’s one of my favorite things I’ve written and also one of the longest posts because I just...I am just so soft for this man. <3 Pip

WC: 4.5K

TW: unprotected sex, feelings, slight size kink, oral (f receiving), drunk sex, slight angst if you squint, slight authority kink (good girl etc.)

H/N = Hero Name

When you stepped into the meeting that morning you weren't sure what to expect.

"Welcome back!" Midnight's cheery voice cut through the air, her eyes bright. You smiled at her as the rest of your colleagues responded with a variation of greetings and welcome's. You had been on a six month long mission across the globe and arrived back yesterday. Though you were slightly jetlagged, you were ready to throw yourself back in the grind of hero work.

As you took your seat your eyes roamed to the largest figure in the room. Endeavor had stayed silent, his eyes trained on the brief documents in front of him. Hell, you weren't even sure if he had noticed you had returned. Your heart sank slightly.

What did you expect? It had been six months, six long, confusing months since that night of booze and desire. Six months since you had felt his large hands wrapped around your body, his lips pressed against your neck hungrily as you grinded against him.

Fuck. You cut another glance at him. His eyes were narrowed as he read over the papers in front of him and his face was in it's permanent scowl. If he noticed you at all, he was doing a good job hiding it. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Hawks swaggering in the room. 

"Hey h/n! Long time, no see! How was the mission?" He called out, pulling you into a friendly hug. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Enji shift. 

"Great. Managed to bust the kingpin and shut the entire operation down. Glad to be back though". You smiled back at the winged hero. He nodded, before taking his seat right next to the flame hero.

"Mornin' Endeavor!" his cheery voice rang out.

Enji grumbled a greeting, his eyes not looking up

Eraserhead cleared his throat from the head of the table.

"Let's get started."

You couldn't help zoning out as the dark haired hero discussed the current mission. You forced your eyes to stare at the file in front of you and not the man across from you. You were so focused, you almost didn't hear your name.

"H/N, you will be working with Endeavor."

Your eyes widened, and your head snapped up. You finally dared to look at Enji who's expression hadn't changed. As Eraser concluded the meeting, you steeled your nerves and walked to the flame hero.

"Endeavor, I-"

He cut you off. 

"Train. I will not be dragged down by you because you haven't sparred properly in six months." 

Your demeanor steeled. 

“I wasn’t just partying it up over there. I was working.”

If he cared, it didn’t register on his face. His turquoise eyes were fixed at the spot above you instead of meeting yours. Without another word, he turned to leave. You felt your face grow hot. Determined to not show emotion, you pursed your lips, grabbing your things to head back to your apartment.

---

“Endeavor, you lucky dog.”

Endeavor looked up from the paperwork on his desk with a bored expression.

“What are you talking about Hawks?” His voice was tinged with annoyance as he looked back down to the documents from the intel team.

“Stop pretending you aren’t thrilled to be working with H/N. She’s the BEST, and between you and me, she’s definitely one of the most beautiful heroes.” The blonde faux-whispered, tossing back his head in a chuckle.  Endeavor fixed him with an aggravated stare.

“I have no desire to work with H/N. She has been on a mission for 6 months, so we are at a disadvantage anyway, since I doubt she was actually working all of that time. Especially since her behavior is comparable to yours.”

Hawks cocked a bushy brow.

“Deny it all you want, big guy. Your body language is different when you’re around her. You should ask her out. I’m sure she’d say yes. Some girls like the mean and broody type.”

Smoke emitted from the corner of Endeavor’s desk, where his hand rested. Clearing his throat, he attempted to put it out, but not before the annoying bird hero noticed.

With a smirk, Hawks headed towards the door. 

“Don’t screw this up, Endeavor!”

----

What Hawks didn’t know is Enji had already screwed this up. Before you left, six long months ago, you and Endeavor were on relatively friendly terms. Well as friendly as one can be with the hotheaded flame hero. It was you that convinced him to go out that night with the other pro-heroes. And when the night ended, he had walked you home.

Surprisingly, he could be a gentleman when he wanted to be.

The walk home had been quiet, though you and Enji both had a bit to drink. Emboldened by the alcohol, you finally had turned to him.

“Enji, why do you try to push us away?”

Your boldness surprised him. It wasn’t a surprise he could come off a bit stoic, at best. Yet no one, especially newer heroes, called him out on this behavior. It was just “how he was”. Before he could stop himself he blurted out,

“I don’t wish to hurt people anymore.”

His face heated up and you could see a crimson blush rising up towards his ears. In that moment, you could see a glimpse of Enji, not Endeavor.

This wasn’t to say Enji wasn’t attractive. Yet, him exposing himself, allowing vulnerability? That made your heart jump in your chest. Turning away, you thought about what he meant. You knew his family had been estranged from him, his kids not a frequent presence in his life. You had seen a few gossip magazines detailing how his kids often avoided their childhood home, and you had read about Rei’s hospitalization. You imagined how lonely he must feel, though if there was truth to any of those rumors, you could see why they would be wary.

“This is your home, yes?” 

His voice broke your train of thought. You looked up and realized all too soon the two of you were outside your door. Your hand rested on the door handle and you imagined him sitting in a quiet living room, a house empty.

“Would you like to come in for a bit?” Your voice was squeaky and unsure and you were surprised when he grunted in affirmation. 

Wordlessly he followed you into the apartment. Somehow, without speaking, you could both feel it. The loneliness that bonded you, the freedom of being vulnerable in the dark blanket of the night, these moments allowing you to breathe and just be without expectation and titles. Because here, you weren’t pro-heroes, you were yourselves, seeking the tiny bits of comfort the other could provide. 

As you entered the apartment, the silence between you intensified. Your stomach was buzzing with nerves and as you looked up at him, you could feel the anticipation of who would break first. His hands found your hips and pulled you towards him, and soon his lips were on yours. He tasted like the scotch he had been drinking, warm and rich. His hands were hot where they met your skin, and you pressed closer in his embrace. Rough stubble scratched at your skin and you kissed him deeper, desperately wanting to let him in and lose yourself in him at the same time.

Your back pressed against the wall, and his fingers grazed the bottom of your shirt. Breathlessly you finally broke apart. Looking in each other's eyes, you unbuttoned your shirt, fingers trembling in anticipation. He took this as his cue to pull off his own, and you admired his strong muscles, littered with scars. You could feel his eyes roam your body as you undid the last button, leaving you in a simple bra and pants. His hands, hands that could throw buildings and fight villains, were gentle against your skin, slowly running over your belly to the edge of your bra. When you didn’t protest, he tugged at the clasps, letting it fall off your shoulders to the floor.

He pressed hungry kisses to your shoulder, slowly working his way down. His touches were gentle, as if you would break if he wasn’t careful and his mind raced, wanting to explore every inch of you. A soft moan escaped your lips as he nipped at your neck. Enji’s body tensed, and his grip tightened as he kissed lower, desperate to hear more of your sweet noises. 

His pants were painfully tight now, and you seemed to understand, because he could feel your small fingers working the latch on his belt, tugging his slacks down and exposing the tent in his boxers. He let out a low groan as your fingers wrapped around his clothed cock. Enji was a lot bigger than anyone in general, though he never really thought about it until now, when your hand was struggling to wrap completely around his thick member. 

 Maneuvering his hands from your hips, he cupped your breasts, pressing aching kisses to them. He sucked bruises into your skin, and bit back a groan as your fingers found their way under his waistband. Enji wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up, and you nodded to the general area of the bedroom. Nudging the door open, he gently rested you on the bed. Sliding your pants over your hips, leaving you exposed, a thin pair of black panties being the only barrier between the redhead and your sex.

His hands gripped your things, parting you open and he placed a soft kiss on your belly. He worked his way lower, hooking his fingers under your waistband and dragging the material over your curves before tossing it off the bed. Tracing over your soft mound with his finger, he pushed open the lips of your cunt. Like a man starved, he buried his face in your pussy, his tongue devouring your slick.

Your hands gripped his red hair and he groaned into you. Pulling your legs over his shoulders, he fucked you on his tongue, before sucking your throbbing clit between his lips. Eyes rolling back, your breathy moans filled the apartment. You felt yourself climbing higher and higher, so close to euphoria as you grinded on his face.

“Fuck...delicious.” He growled into your cunt. His fingers gripped your thighs, almost painfully and the vibrations of his voice pushed you over the edge. Your thighs squeezed around his head and your back arched off the soft bed as you cried out his name. He continued his assault on your cunt, slurping down your juices as your fingers tugged his locks, gasping at the overstimulation. Still, Enji continued to drown himself in you, your sweet taste like nectar of the gods. He wanted so much more of you, to stay here for hours, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you. He could feel the muscles in your thighs tense as you came again, your body trembling from the impact.

Pulling away, he kissed your lips, the taste of you on his tongue. Your tongues entwined, as your arms wrapped around his neck, feeling the muscles of his upper back flex. Too soon and yet not fast enough he broke away, positioning himself between your legs, his massive frame towering over you. His hands rested on the bed on opposite sides of your face as he looked down at your body. Your lips were puffy from his kiss, parted slightly. Your eyes were glassy, half-lidded and hungry for more. You met his gaze and inhaled, giving him the slightest nod. He lined his cock up with your entrance, gently pushing the head in. You gasped at the stretch, and after a moment rocked your hips, spurring him to continue. Easing his cock in, he gritted his teeth at how tight your cunt wrapped around him. His hands moved to your hips as he pulled himself out of you, leaving the tip in before thrusting back into you.

Gripping your hips, he bounced you on his cock easily. Moans fell from your mouth, stuttering each time he bottomed out in you. One hand left your hip and gripped the headboard as his heavy balls smacked against your ass. Enji groaned as your legs wrapped around his waist, forcing him deeper. The headboard creaked under his force as he pounded into you, your moans of his name spurring him on, making him want to give you all of him. Your small hand ran over his chest, the dark hair soft under your fingers as you dug your nails in his skin. You felt overwhelmingly full, his thick cock filling every crevice inside you.

Enji’s fiery eyes roamed  your body, watching as your breasts bounced with each thrust. He could practically see the bulge in your belly from his cock and as lewd as the scene was, there was something so beautiful about you in the throes of passion. His name dripped from your lips like a mantra and he could feel the desire, the want that you carried, begging him to give you everything he had. Your fingers danced across his muscles, a touch so intimate. A touch he hadn’t felt in years.

With a crack, the wooden headboard began to splinter as Enji unloaded into you with a shout. Your body felt heavy as he shot white ropes of cum deep inside you, some spilling out around his cock and onto your sheets. With a final groan, he stilled, slowly sliding his softening cock out of you and collapsing next to you on the bed.

It was silent, except for the sounds of both of you breathing hard, your chests rising and falling in tandem. Enji could hear his heart thumping wildly and he turned to look at you. Your eyes were closed, breathing labored but slow and you sleepily turned towards him, laying your head on his massive bicep. 

The next morning, he was gone. The only evidence that the night had even happened was the crack that ran across your headboard and the glass of water on your night stand. Enji avoided you during hero meetings, always somehow on a busy patrol when you called, his assistant taking your message, yet again until you gave up trying.

When the months-long mission was offered to you, you accepted it without hesitation. Enji didn’t attempt to say goodbye.

-----

Now, Enji was torn. 

There was no getting out of this. He thought about reaching out to Eraserhead to ask about working alone, though he knew the sleepy hero would ask questions he didn’t want to get into. Enji furrowed his brow as he swung again at the punching bag in front of him, taken to training in his private outdoor home gym rather than the regular hero gyms to avoid you, though you hadn’t made any more attempts to speak to him.

He jabbed at the bag. This was ridiculous. He was a pro-hero. Allowing this to interfere with his work made him weak, and Endeavor was not weak. 

He wasn’t weak.

Enji threw a few more punches, shaking the sweat off as he reached for the bottle of water behind him. 

“Enji.”

He stiffened.

“Enji Todoroki, I don’t know why you are ignoring me or what I did to you, but we need to talk about what happened.” Your voice was clear, stronger than it was the day of the meeting.

He took a swig from his water bottle, biding his time. Finally turning around, he faced you. You were in a simple t-shirt and track pants, probably coming from a workout yourself. Your eyes were ablaze, demanding to get answers. Enji felt a stabbing pain in his chest as he compared the image of you now, to the image of you from that night.

“I have nothing to say. We will work on this mission, and be civil to each other. That’s all.” Enji attempted to push past you and you turned on your heel.

“You know what? Fine. You want to pretend you didn’t feel anything that night? That meant nothing to you whatsoever? Was it just to hook up, get your dick wet and leave? Because you didn’t need me for that.” Your tone was angry but Enji could hear the hurt in your statements. Facing you, he glared down.

“What do you want from me? To be your boyfriend? I’m not that man. Try Hawks, he’s into that sort of nonsense. I don’t need or want this trouble in my life anymore.” Enji’s voice was hard, the tone he used for villains or the press. You searched his face, seeking the man from that night. Enji, not Endeavor.

You thought over his words. “Enji...what are you so afraid of?”

The tone of your voice shifted. Softer, easier. He remembered how he felt when you begged for him, when you showed your desire for him through each touch and kiss. He finally looked into your eyes, eyes so full of earnest curiosity. Why couldn’t you just make this easy? He swallowed hard.

Fat droplets of water splashed onto his arms, and no sooner did he notice that the sky opened up, sheets of rain pouring over the two of you. Without thinking, he gripped your hand tugging you to the house. Even though it wasn’t a far journey, you were both soaked, and he could see you shivering. Grabbing a towel from the linen closet, he wrapped it around your shoulders. You murmured a thanks, standing awkwardly in his doorway.

He reached for your hand, leading you to the laundry room. Your hands were small in his and he tried to not focus on his heartbeat that pounded in his ears. 

“Wait here.” He grunted, leaving to grab clothes for both of you. He grabbed one of his, then thought better and dug around for anything Fuyumi or Rei may have left. No luck. He sighed, returning to the room where you were sitting on top of the washer.

Thrusting the clothes into your hands, he left to give you some privacy to change as he pulled on his clothes. A few minutes later he heard you giggling. You stepped out, drowning in his way too big shirt. The shirt extended nearly to your knees. The sweatpants he gave you were sliding off your hips and he glimpsed your thighs as you attempted to pull them up. Shrugging, you let them fall to the floor, your legs exposed.

“Sorry, but I don’t think they will stay on. Luckily, your shirt hides everything important.” You said, looking down. Enji mentally disagreed, since any inch of skin he could see would be burned into his brain forever.

Tossing both your clothes into the washer, he set the timer and then it was silent. You spoke first.

“I thought I did something wrong.”

Enji turned to you, Your gaze was fixed on the washing machine, though your eyes looked distant. You continued.

“I thought maybe you thought it was a drunken mistake.”

“I wasn’t drunk.”

You turned. Enji’s cerulean eyes were downcast at the laminate flooring. You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off.

“I’m not good at this. I’m not stupid, I know the rumors about my family that people say. They aren’t all lies. I did fuck it up. I did a lot of bad, terrible things and pushed them away. Rei, and the kids...they didn’t deserve any of the pain I caused them.”

His shoulders sagged, the weight of his past overtaking him. “I did, I do love them. But I understand why they had to leave.” He sat on the small couch in the corner.

Enji felt your hand cover his, your thumb rubbing circles over his knuckles. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

“Enji...doing shitty things doesn’t make you a shitty person. You can’t punish yourself forever.” Your voice was soft, soothing. Enji finally met your eyes.

“I’ve already fucked that up. I fucked this up. I don’t want to hurt people I care about anymore. It’s easier this way.”

You wrapped your arms around him. The two of you made quite a sight, the smaller figure cradling the large man. You stood in front of him and he let himself relax into you, his head resting on your chest. He could smell your scent, warm and comforting, even under his shirt. Your fingers grazed his hair, holding him to you. Enji thought of the nights where he lay in bed, allowing himself to imagine your body next to him. 

He was tired of being strong.

“Enji...I can’t say everything will be perfect. But punishing yourself before it starts isn’t going to do anything but cause more pain.”

He could feel your heartbeat, a steady rhythm that matched his breathing. He was aware of his hands around your body, your soft strokes in his hair. He thought about how it would feel to have your touches, hold you in his arms every day, every night.

Enji allowed himself to fall.

He raised his head, his lips meeting yours. With each kiss he silently told you his hopes, his fears, and his apologies. In turn, you gave him comfort and acceptance. He pulled you onto his lap, so you were straddling him, kissing you hard to make up for the months of missed opportunities. 

You kissed for what felt like forever, never wanting to stop. His hands slid down your back and across your thighs, going under your shirt. 

“You look so good in this. Wanna see this more often.” He whispered, a smirk on his face. You giggled and he had the desire to hear all of your beautiful sounds. In time, he reminded himself.

“Enji, are you flirting with me?” You teased and he pulled you close in another kiss. His hands wandered across your soft skin and he could feel the hardened peaks of your nipples through the thin cotton of the shirt. He kissed down your jaw, and your fingers grasped at his hair, causing him to groan into your neck.

“You tease me so much, Y/N.” He growled out as you grinded on his lap. You could feel his cock stir through his joggers, and you felt yourself growing wetter on his lap. He pulled your shirt up to your waist, exposing your thin panties to him. He could feel your arousal through the fabric and ran his thumb down the dark spot over your cunt. You let out a soft whimper and his eyes blazed with hunger.

 Pulling your shirt above your tits, he took one in his mouth, sucking harshly. He grazed your nipple with his teeth, causing your back to arch. He switched sides, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. Your hips rocked against his bulge, more prominent now and he pulled away from your chest.

“I want you Enji.” Your voice was soft and seductive, and Enji felt your words go straight to his cock. Picking you up, he carried you to his room. The lights were dim and you didn’t have time to look around before he dropped you on the bed, pushing your legs apart and lapping at your cunt through your drenched panties.

“Already so excited, sweet girl. Taste so good for me.” Enji murmured into your pussy, pressing kisses and bites to your thighs. You whined, attempting to push down your panties and he laughed, a low chuckle that rumbled in his chest. 

“So eager, aren’t you?” 

You pouted at him. “It’s been too long and I’ve missed you so much.”

Enji was grateful for the dark room hiding the blush that spread across his face. He busied himself by dragging your panties down at an agonizingly slow pace, taking the time to admire your legs, his fingers skimming the skin causing shivers to go down your spine. Enji turned to take in the scene. Your body, draped across the sheets, mouth parted, eyes full of want staring up at him, silently begging for him. He had pictured this many times, many sleepless nights, but the reality was so much better.

“So beautiful.”  HIs voice was quiet, and his heart thumped wildly. He was nervous, even though he had already been with you once before. This time felt so raw, so much more real. He wanted to be with you in every way he could, in any way you would let him and he could tell you wanted the same.

As he pulled off his shirt, your hands slid into the waistband of his pants, grazing over the head of his throbbing cock. He groaned as your fingers slid over the sensitive head, smearing precum down the shaft. You pushed down the rest of his clothes and he kneeled between your legs. Both of you were quiet, and you could feel the excitement in the air of doing this, being with each other completely. It was vulnerable, it was scary, but he trusted you to be there when he fell. And in turn, you trusted him to be yours.

Pushing into you, your breath hitched. He felt your body clamp down on him, and he slowed, easing his way in. Your nails dug into the skin of his biceps and you gasped as he bottomed out in you.

Pressing his forehead to yours, he searched your eyes for discomfort. Instead you gazed at him with complete adoration, bright eyes completely infatuated.

“You’re perfect, Enji.” Your voice was quiet and breathy, but clear. In response he pressed a harsh kiss to your mouth, trying to explain every emotion he felt, words he couldn’t say just yet. As you kissed, he rocked into you, his thick cock dragging against your walls. Your soft moans were swallowed by his kisses, and the stinging marks left on his arms only drove him crazier. He fucked into you faster, feeling your tight cunt squeezing around him, wanting so badly to stay inside you forever.

Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, and the room was filled with your sweet sounds, interspersed with his praises.

“Taking me so well. Such a good girl. Fuck, so beautiful.” Enji gasped out, his high imminent. Each thrust had you seeing stars and you felt like your body was floating. Moving his hands from the sheets, he slid over your clit, teasing your body. You clenched around him.

“Fuck, right there,don’t stop!” You gasped out, grasping at the bedsheets, your back arching off to meet his thrusts. Enji complied, his rhythm speeding up as he toyed with your clit and you cried out, your body squeezing his cock like a vice. You gushed around his cock, and he fucked into you faster, feeling his body heat up. With a groan he slammed into you, holding you down as he spilled into you. His hips stuttered as he filled you with every drop, and soon the room was filled with panting as both of you struggled to catch your breath.

Easing out of you, he grabbed a towel, cleaning you up before collapsing next to you. You were both quiet and you were reminded of the time before. Nervous, you turned to him and made eye contact.

“Are you staying this time?” Your voice was small and Enji saw your fingers threading the sheets, nervously.

“It’s my house.” He responded seriously. Caught off guard, you burst into laughter. He watched you amused. You looked gorgeous and he would never get used to the sound of your laughter filling the house that had been quiet for too long.

Catching your breath, you turned back to him.

“What I mean is...do you want to do this? Together?”

Enji looked at the bed that was no longer empty, felt the life and warmth that filled the house, exuding from you just being there and entwined his hand with yours.

“Yes.”