#no i will not take constructive criticism

[justalildazed]

Bacon & Eggs

– A Quinn Hughes one shot –

Warnings: (18+) - A lil bit smutty, a lil bit fluffy, mentions of alcohol, all the usual adult nonsense.

A/N: I am still working my way up to writing bigger things, I just need to build my confidence up a little more so please be gentle. Constructive criticism always welcomed (just don't be an a**hole)

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The rain was bouncing off of the windows at a rapid rate as he worked his lips up your neck, jaw and eventually met with yours. Your head leaning back against the wall as he gripped your hair, pulling your head forward as you locked eyes. The room was dark, no lighting aside from the warm city glow outside as it was 3am. The usual time of seeing him, never once in the daylight. It was becoming a habit, the first time being a mistake that turned into this addiction of sorts. You began seeing him more frequently, mostly when either of you were drunk, high or in some other altered mind-state. The first night you met was in a dimly lit bar, as if like poetry, at 3am, when last orders were called. This seemed to be your time with him. No other hours reserved for the two of you than between 3-5am. You never stayed over at each other's places, never asked any questions about personal lives or goings on. It was purely a chemical attraction. You had just split up with your long-term boyfriend when you found yourself seated at the bar alone, feeling low and the girls having left hours ago. You were swirling the contents of your vodka around in the bottom of your glass much like the thoughts in your head. He sat beside you, calling the bartender over for a nightcap and had struck up a conversation somehow, before you knew it you were in the back of a taxi cab making-out with this handsome stranger. 

He guided you over to the bed, your arms and legs wrapped around him tugging at his light blue shirt, his lips attached to any piece of your bare skin that was exposed. You let out a few moans as you managed to get his shirt unbuttoned and off of him, revealing his perfectly chiseled upper body. You knew very little about him but you knew he was a hockey player, you didn’t know if for an AHL or NHL team but you didn’t particularly care about the details. The only thing you cared about was how he made you feel when he was fucking you, touching you, kissing you - how he made you feel more than your ex ever did during the intimate moments. It was refreshing, addicting even. 

“Quinn!” You yelp as he gets to one of your sensitive spots on your ribs, your body erupting in goosebumps. 

“Fuck, sorry.” He pouted his lips and fluttered his lashes as you gripped lightly on his hair, pushing his head down in between your open legs and let out a moan as he began to tease you with his tongue. A sense of euphoria came whenever he was in between your legs, something no man had ever made you feel. Once he was happy that you were close enough he began to nip away at your thighs as he unbuckled his belt, taking off his trousers as if he had been starved of how you felt. Your eyes lit up and you propped yourself forward, leaning on your elbows and watching him stroke his cock as he gazed at you lying there, fully naked, all his for the night. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” His words breathy as he climbed on top of you, the butterflies in your stomach grew. You smirk, pulling him into a deep kiss as he slowly pushed his length inside of you, causing you to bite his lip gently between pants and whines. Your nails dug into his back with one hand and gripped his hair with another as he began to tease you by thrusting slowly. He snickered as he watched your face change as he pleasured you which only got him off more. “Quinn.” You almost threw your head back as he hit a certain spot that felt like sheer ecstasy, “Right there.” 

That night turned out to be a different one from what you were used to, unsure if you both needed the extra time of companionship or just more touch than usual but you somehow ended up falling asleep intertwined with one another's naked bodies. You woke up to a horrendous alarm tone blaring from Quinn’s phone which made you bolt upright in an instant. “Jesus Christ.” You begin rubbing your eyes, feeling the mascara crumbling onto your cheeks as you adjust to the daylight pouring in his bedroom windows. You hear a groan coming from behind you and stirring beneath the sheets as he hits snooze, you turn to see his face smushed into his pillows, two arms tucked underneath them as if he was trying to cuddle something, anything. You look around the room, examining the contents of it and realising you had never actually been at his place in the daylight and your flight mode seemed to kick in. You hopped off the bed as quietly as you could manage, your bare feet meeting the cool wooden flooring as you scrambled to grab your clothing that was thrown across the floor, dresser and somehow, your panties on the lamp of the bedside table. You began getting dressed and heard him stir behind you once again, clearing his throat. 

“You need to go so soon?” He questioned, propping his head up on his elbow, his torso exposed and tempting. You wanted nothing more than to fuck him one more time before you left, but this was already out of your comfort zone – seeing him in the daylight. 

“Uh…” You wiggled your hips, pulling your jeans up and buttoning them. You stood frozen for a moment as he patted the luscious bed sheets, bearing nothing but a toothy smile and some morning wood. 

He laughed the more you stayed silent, sitting himself up properly and pulling the bedsheets over him. “I don’t bite, damn.” 

You furrowed your brow at his comment, mostly in confusion at his prior question but also because he did bite. And you liked it. “Well, actually… you kinda do, y’know, bite.” An awkward laugh came from your chest as you approached the bed, sitting on the side in just your jeans and your lacy pink bra. You had your top in your hand, unsure whether you should put it back on or he wanted a continuation from last night. “I thought you liked that?” He questioned, shuffling closer to you. You felt your cheeks warm, “I do, I just– I think I’m just a bit confused at what you’re asking me.” 

“Well, you always seem to dash out of here so quickly, I guess I was hedging my bets in asking you to stay for breakfast.” He began scratching his beard, you could tell he was growing a bit embarrassed of the question now that you were giving him resistance on the initial offer. 

“I just assumed that because you had an alarm set you might have plans, I thought it would be best if I left.” Your voice was low, quiet almost towards the last part of your sentence. 

“Well, this is me saying that I wake up at the same time every day and I would like it… if you stayed for breakfast.” He seemed almost shy with his words, his voice hoarse and unsteady. He scanned around the room for a moment before meeting your eyes again, you fiddled with the label on your top before nodding your head in agreement. ‘Fuck it, why not? What’s one time? Why not?’ You thought to yourself. 

“Okay.” Your response allowed his eyes to light up in a way you hadn’t seen. He hopped out of bed, grabbing his boxers and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms. 

You sat on the wooden bar stool at his kitchen island, adoring the view of downtown Vancouver out of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The rain had passed from last night and the sun was now out, drying the concrete as the cherry blossoms bloomed, lining the edges of the water. Smells of bacon and eggs frying, toast under the grill and coffee greeted your nostrils and made your mouth water. After two consecutive months fucking this man every other night at stupid o’clock, you felt it strange to see him in the morning, in his own space, doing something he loved. He was whistling a particular song you couldn’t quite make out but definitely knew as you felt your foot tapping along to the rhythm. You admired his toned back muscles and pale complexion as he attended to your food, grabbing different seasonings from a very fancy looking spice rack nestled next to the cooker. 

“How do you take your coffee? Do you want a glass of orange juice, too?” He still seemed so unsure, nervous almost, in his questions as if he was trying to make a good impression. 

“Just coffee is fine. Some creamer and no sugar, thanks.” You smiled, as he caught a glimpse of you over his shoulder. “You got it.” He grabbed the creamer out of the refrigerator, pouring just the right amount into your mug and spinning around on his heels to pass you it. You began to sip away as he plated up both your breakfasts, making sure to have the cutlery ready in his hands as he brought the two plates over. 

“Thank you.” You turned to him with a kind smile tugging at your lips as you looked down at your plate. You noticed your eggs, sunny side up, laid out next to one another representing two eyes. One bacon strip placed down below as a smile and another bacon strip halved into two representing the eye brows you began to giggle and realised he was awaiting your reaction as you looked over to him. 

“Good, huh?” He seemed so pleased with himself putting a smile on your face and you wanted to humour him.

“It’s cute, thank you.” You both began to eat the meal he had made and sip away at your coffee, getting to know one another more. It was weird at first, but in a way it was nice, more-so. Nice to finally get to know the man who had only gotten to know your body, how you liked to be touched and pleasured. Now he knew how you liked your coffee, your bacon and eggs. It wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely a start.

[rafescolors]

rafe and you discover something new.

MDNI.

𖹭 tags/cw: piv, soft!dom!rafe vibes, first time reader gets into a Headspace, soft!shy!reader, oral fixation, early stage rel.

𖹭 other: i hope u guys like it:) it's honestly my first time writing cis-straight smut lmao. not proofread (not beta we die like [redacted]), constructive criticism's always welcome<3 enjoy ya lil freaks.

yo this was longer than i expected, my bad. (it was supposed to be a blurb;-;)

Face hidden on his shoulder, you whimpered at his slow, deep thrusts. It was still new for you —sex, and sex with Rafe. You still felt shy, a bit embarrased at every noise you made, every bit of pleasure you felt when you two were in the throes of passion. But Rafe never let you overthink it, never let you get in your head about it, whispering soft reassurances and sweet nothings to distract you.

Like right now. It's like he had a sixth sense, always knowing when you were thinking too hard. With a soft groan, he left a sweet, chaste kiss on your shoulder before pushing up on his elbows, gently grabbing your chin to make you look into his eyes. Blushing bright red, you looked up at him, heart fluttering in your chest when your eyes met.

"You're doing so good, angel," he whispered, brushing his thumb against your cheek. You swallowed, a small sound leaving your lips even when you pressed them tightly. He shushed you gently, knowing what that sound meant. "C'mon, baby, let go for me." His thumb slid across your lips, plump and sensitive from all the kissing you've done before and the way you kept biting them. His nail caught your bottom lip and tugged a little.

You gasped at the sensation. While you had made love a few times, it was still new enough that had never happened in the middle of sex. It was a new feeling, his thumb against your lips while he fucked you deeply, the slight bite of his short nail on the sensitive skin of the inside of your mouth when his thick cock moved against your tight walls. You felt yourself clench around him, mouth parting with a breathy whine. His hips stuttered on their rhythm at the feeling of your tightening core, unintentionally thrusting harder, much harder than he ever did.

Whining, you instinctively tried to bite on your bottom lip to muffle your sound, but with Rafe's thumb still over it, your teeth connected with it, accidentally taking him into your mouth.

This was new.

His groan was deep and rumbly, blue eyes darkening at the sight of your lips wrapped around his finger, teeth sinking into the soft flesh. He thrust harder, this time purposely, and your back arched off his bed, while you bit harshly into his thumb.

"Fuck, angel," he moaned, and you squirmed, all those new sensations making the edges of your vision blurry.

The only thing you ever had in your mouth was his tongue, so the feeling of this finger against the wet, sensitive skin inside made you feel a bit lightheaded, enough that you experimentally clamped your lips around the appendage while your teeth stopped hitting into his skin. He growled, hips snapping harder, causing you to whimper softly, eyes fluttering closed.

It's like everything was ten times more intense once everything was dark.

Hands scrambling for purchase, you let your lips slide against his thumb, first like you were going to let it go, before you sucked it inside your mouth again, and Rafe seemed to understand what was happening before you did, because he slowly pumped his finger inside and brushed the rough pad of his thumb against your tongue. You whined, high in your throat, a sob climbing up.

His breath suddenly tickled your ear, before he purred into it. "Can I try something, baby?"

A bit gone, you nodded enthusiastically, never letting him go.

He thrust again, hard, deep, and at the same time, he moved his thumb deeper into your mouth, and when his cock slid against your walls until only his head was inside your core, his thumb mirrored the action, hooking into your teeth the way his cockhead hooked into your rim.

You sobbed, head going fuzzy with the double feeling, and you could feel him smirk against your ear. "So good for me, angel."

The words only made you float more, and you blinked your eyes open. When Rafe saw your eyes glazed over, like you were not entirely there, he swore under his breath, snapping his hips at the same time he fucked into your mouth.

He kept repeating the motion, fucking into your cunt and into your mouth at the same time in a way that made your head all floaty and spacey, feeling like you were wrapped in cotton. You could barely understand the words leaving his mouth, catching strays so good, such a pretty angel, my good girl that caused you to eagerly start to suck his thumb each time he pushed inside, which heightened the sensation he was already provoking with each slide against your insides. Your mouth was so sensitive, and you had never realized, not until this moment, not until he was harshly fucking it with his thumb, making you feel like you were floating on cotton candy.

You could feel tears gathering in your eyes, high and whiny sounds being ripped out your throat each time he thrust into you, both your cunt and your mouth, the rough slide of his cock against your walls making you see stars. You couldn't speak, couldn't think, for the first time in your life openly and shamelessly moaning, eyes locked with his while he ruined you in ways you didn't know was possible.

Rafe smirked, looking like the cat that ate the canary, sweet, filthy things leaving his lips in such a soft tone that you floated higher and higher and higher.

"That's it, baby, that's it. Let go for me, c'mon, angel," he whispered, fucking you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling your ears, so obscene yet you couldn't care less.

You couldn't care less. It was something you had never experienced, this shameless enjoyment of sex, of something as dirty as Rafe fucking you into the mattress while his thumb fucked into your mouth. He was always sweet, slow, making you reach your high with sweet praises and soft reassurances, slowly building up to it, but in that moment? In that moment, you felt your high creep up on you fast and hard, leaving you breathless with anticipation.

And like always, it's like Rafe could read your mind and body even better than you did.

He smiled wickedly, going deeper and harder, never taking his eyes off of you.

"You close, baby? Huh? Will you come for me, angel? Let go all prettily for me?" His thrusts became almost violent, his hips surely going to bruise your skin with how hard they slapped against your ass. Your hands lost all their strength, slowly sliding down his chest until they limply lay over his stomach, only supported by your own tummy. You could feel his hard muscles straining with each snap of his hips, and you whimpered around his thumb, sucking him like he was your favorite lollipop, everything he was doing at that moment feeding into your incoming high.

Gently, he tapped your cheek with his pointer finger.

"Will you let me try something else, angel?" His words came out strained, like he was holding back.

You nodded, mindlessly.

"Need you to open your mouth for me, sweet thing. Let it hang open, yeah? I'll make you feel better, I promise."

With how floaty you felt, you simply let his thumb go with a pop, mouth hanging open for him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, stopping for a few seconds while buried deep inside you.

You whined, and if you weren't so gone, you would've been embarrassed by how pathetic you sounded.

He kissed your forehead.

"Sh, sh, baby, wait a sec, yeah? I need-" He grunted, his cock twitching inside you. "I need a sec," he said from gritted teeth, his jaw clenched as tightly as his eyes were closed.

You wiggled, searching for the friction that along with his finger inside your mouth made you this mindless, shameless thing whose only goal was to cum, head empty of everything but the man before you.

His hips snapped.

"Shit, angel, need you to calm down, okay?"

You sobbed, lip wobbling. If you had the wits, you would've said something, but it was like the only thing you could do with your mouth was suck on his fingers, no words able to leave you.

Gulping, he looked into your hazy eyes.

With a shaky exhale, he took his thumb from your mouth, and before you could complain about the loss, he slid two thick, long fingers inside your mouth.

"Keep it open," he rasped.

You obeyed.

He started sliding his fingers in and out, the rough pads going from the farthest part of your tongue they could touch before you gagged, to the soft, sensitive flesh of your lips after hooking on your lower teeth.

You blinked up at him, eyes half lided, breath slowing down and mind going empty again.

Thoughtlessly, you tilted your chin up, pushing your tongue against your lips, leaving your mouth at his mercy.

With a groan and a mumbled fuck, he kept fucking your mouth, the new position making you whine and close your eyes softly, the high he interrupted slowly building up again.

As if he knew, he started thrusting into you again, slow, deep and rough, the last few inches of his cock slamming inside you before slowly dragging against your walls out, repeating the action while he brushed the pads of his fingers against your lips and your tongue.

His rhythm started to build up again, until he was snapping his hips as hard as before, fingers going a bit slower inside your mouth. Whining, you sinked your nails into his stomach, his muscles jumping at the bite. He moaned loudly, fucking your mouth a bit deeper, making you gag and whine and tears slip out your closed eyes, yet you only opened your mouth bigger, arching your back, the angle of his thrusts shifting until he was slamming against a sensitive spot inside your cunt that made you trash and cry out.

He chuckled, low and mean, quickly kneeling between your legs before stuffing a pillow under your lower back, grabbing your hip with his free hand in a bruising grip, and fucking into you with renewed vigor.

Drool gathering in your open mouth, small huh huhs left your lips, whiny sounds that should've embarrassed you yet only made you clench around him and approach your orgasm faster than ever before.

Head empty and floating, you let your legs fall limply against your sides, open for him, and let your high wash over you, keening high in your throat while he kept fucking your mouth with his fingers and your cunt with his cock.

Arching your back, you felt your walls spasm around him, the feel of his hardness against your clenching insides making you sob and tears roll down your temples, pressing the back of your head hard against his pillow, everything feeling soft around the edges and vision blurry except for his face above you, contorted in pleasure when he fucked you harder, chasing his own orgasm.

Pliantly, you sucked his fingers inside your mouth, head bobbing a bit, the feeling it gave you lengthening your high and making your head go so fucking floaty you only realized he had cum when he rammed his fingers inside your mouth and you felt his cock twitch inside you, small whimpers leaving your lips at the sensations.

He panted against your ear, his weight falling onto your body, but you didn't care, the only thing in your fucked, blissed out mind being the need to keep sucking on his fingers. With that goal, you wrapped both hands around his wrist to keep it steady and in place while you bobbed and sucked, experimentally swirling your tongue around the digits, soft moans and sighs escaping you.

You slowly came back down from that headspace, letting Rafe's fingers fall from your lips with a last suck and blinking up at his lovestruck face.

He smiled gently at you, cupping your cheek in his warm, big hand.

"Fuck, baby," he signed, the thumb of his clean hand brushing against your skin.

A bit confused, you tilted your head, the fog in your mind slowly, very slowly clearing up.

"You're perfect," he mumbled before he surged forward and kissed you softly, as always, his you-sixth sense knowing exactly what to do before you could overthink.

Sighing dreamily, you kissed him back, enjoying what you realized were the last few minutes of that floaty headspace.

Hopefully, though, it wouldn't be the last time you experimented it.

[bison-minotaur]

A Helping Hand

Hello! This is my first ever post on here and I thought I'd post a short one shot I had in the back of my mind. I really hope y'all enjoy! Idk if it's any good, so if y'all have any constructive criticism I'd be happy for the help!

MDNI! 18+ content!

Dividers by @uzmacchiato

Warnings/disclaimers: masturbation, porn without plot, unprotected pnv (WRAP IT UP), creampie, femme reader, use of pet names, use of good girl, reader likes wearing lingerie while getting off, dubious consent, reader feels like shes in heat, Logan doesn't know how to fucking knock ig, he also likes being called sir

Word count: 1.4K words

You fucking hated this.

You’ve been at it all day, fucking yourself senseless on your vibrator. It was like you couldn’t get enough, like some bitch in heat. You didn't know what had gotten into you. You were sure you weren’t ovulating but even then it was never like this.

You whined as you held the vibrator under you with one hand, pressing its base into the mattress. You used your free hand to support your body as you sank down onto the vibrator with ease, your hole weak and weeping from the countless orgasms you’ve given yourself. Your thighs burned, your wrists ached from keeping the toy in position. But you just couldn’t stop.

You bounced on it slowly, biting your lip as the short nub on the outer portion of the vibrator pressed hard against your clit, making you moan.

Luckily, you had no classes to teach, since it was a weekend.

However, you had another problem on your hands…

Logan grumbled under his breath as he made his way down the halls towards your room. You were late to training, with no word to anyone as to why. Scott was pissed, of course, and so he sent Logan to go fetch you. Logan was worried, sure, but he was also annoyed as hell. He just wanted to get that stupid training over with so that he could sneak off to the nearest bar before any crowds showed up. 

That frustration is also the reason why he neglected to knock before stepping into your room.

He swung the door open, startling you and you let out a gasp.

“Hey, what the hell… oh,” he said, his eyes settling on the sight of you.

You were wearing a set of loosely fitting, black pajamas that Logan was guessing you bought at one of those fancy lingerie stores in town. The shorts had a lace trim around the bottom, which matched the lace above your breasts on the spaghetti strapped top. One of the straps had fallen, causing the top to slip down on one side, revealing your breast. Your vibrator was buried deep inside you, the loose shorts pulled to the side. You fought back a whine as it pressed hard into you.

“L-Logan! What the hell!?” you shouted, quickly moving to readjust your top.

“So this is where you’ve been, huh?” he says, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it. The scent of your arousal hung heavy in the air, and it was taking him every ounce of decency and control to not pounce on you like some beast.

Your pussy throbbed from the sound of his deep, rough voice, begging for you to keep moving. You let out a soft whimper. You were already struggling, and now you had one of the hottest people in the mansion catching you in the act of jerking off.

Great.

“You look tired, sweetheart, how long have you been at this?” he said, stepping towards you, making your breath catch in your throat.

“F-Four hours… I can’t stop…” you said softly, your gaze turning to the bed below you. 

He hummed. “Oh, poor baby,” he teased with a smirk, tilting your chin up to look at him. “How about I give you a hand, yeah?”

You were about to ask what he meant before he kicked off his boots and joined you in bed, settling behind you on his knees. He reached down and replaced your hand on the vibrator with his, letting you use both to support your body.

“L-Logan…”

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked softly.

You quickly shook your head, and he let out a low chuckle.

“That’s what I thought,” he whispered, peppering kisses down your neck, making you squirm. “C’mon baby, don’t be shy, move for me.”

You slowly began to bounce on the vibrator, letting out soft moans as it hit deep inside you again and again. Logan pressed the button on the toy, intensifying the vibrations. You gasped and gripped the sheets, moving faster. The wet sounds of your cunt against the silicone filled the room.

Logan let out a low growl. “You’re so wet, practically dripping aren’t you?” he whispered before biting down on the nape of your neck. You moaned softly, practically drooling as he licked the bite mark. “Such pretty little noises,” he cooed into your ear. His other hand moved to your hip, helping guide you. “Move faster baby, c’mon.”

You nodded and obeyed, your hips moving faster as he pressed the button once more. Your eyes fluttered and your pussy clenched around the toy. A tight feeling in your belly began to form, threatening to snap like a coil, pathetic “uh uh uhs” falling from your lips. Logan moved his hand, thrusting the vibrator further into you in time with your hips.

“L-Lo… I’m close, please…” you panted as he continued his ministrations.

“Let go hon, I got you…” he whispered, leaving hickies along your neck.

It wasn’t long before you came. With a sharp cry, your hips moved sloppily as you squirted, spraying your arousal onto Logan’s hand, much to his delight. You slowed, riding out your orgasm until your hips stilled. Logan gently pulled out the toy, rubbing it against your still leaking pussy, pressing it hard against your clit.

You were so lost in pleasure that you didn’t hear Logan unzipping his jeans behind you, shimmying them down with his boxers until he could pull himself out. He set the toy aside, making you whine.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you’ll feel good real soon,” he whispered, gently guiding you forward until you were face down ass up. He teased you with the tip of his cock, causing your hips to buck towards him needily.

He chuckled lowly before pushing himself inside you. It was easier than anticipated, with your body still relaxed from earlier. However, he was much thicker than your vibrator, so there was still a stretch that made you whimper. He gently rubbed your back to sooth you. “Shhh, relax for me. I got you. Gonna make you feel better than that toy ever could,” he whispers, pushing himself further into you. You gasped and squirmed, wiggling your hips needily. He smirks and smacks your ass. “So needy…”

With one final push, he bottomed out inside you, and you swore you could feel him in your belly.

“Fuck you’re big,” you said breathlessly as you adjust to his size.

“I know baby, but you can take it, can’t you?”

You nodded. “Yes…”

“Yes what?”

You gulped before replying. “Yes sir…”

“Good girl,” he whispered before slowly pulling out of you and thrusting back in.

The feeling made you gasp. You’ve never felt so full before. 

He kept going, each thrust making his hips flush with yours, his balls slapping against your clit. He picked up the pace, gripping your hips to force him harder onto your cock. You moaned loudly and gripped the sheets again, your hips snapping back to meet his.

“Look at you, taking me so well,” he said, his breath heavy. 

You whined and spoke softly. “W-Wanted this for so long…”

“Oh, have you now? Well trust me baby you’ll be getting this all the time,” he whispered, thrusting harder into you.

You cried out, your back arching. “Logan!”

He reached down and pulled your hair, tugging your head back. You whimpered, tears pricking at your eyes. “You gonna cum, baby?” he whispered, his other hand sneaking down between your legs to rub at your clit. 

You whined out a small “uh-huh” in response, your legs trembling.

“Then cum for me, and say my name when you do. I want everyone here to know who you belong to.”

He pressed hard against your clit as he thrusted harshly into you, making you sob in ecstasy. You noticed his moves were getting a little sloppy, and you could feel him twitch inside you. He was close too.

It’s not long before you cum again, your pussy spurting around his cock. “Logan!” you practically screamed, your body trembling and writhing below him.

He let out a growl and  followed soon after, burying himself inside you as he came, filling you to the brim with his seed. The two of you rocked against one another, riding out your highs. Once you were done, he pulled out slowly, bringing his fingers to your hole to press any of his release that was leaking from you back into your body.

“I’ll tell the boy scout you ain’t feeling good,” he pants, “and that I’ll be taking care of you all day…”

[liondrakes]

Experiencing Transspecies Identity Through Philosophy

by Sivaan of Candlekeep

No blurb. This is a short, self-explanatory one.

Estimated reading time: around five to six minutes

This morning, I decided to chat a bit about being transspecies and why my experience is mostly approached from an ontological angle. Although I’m interested in options that’ll physically align with my identity, I’m not looking to immediately hit these goals. I’ll consider those pursuits when I have the time and money for them, but I’m not in an environment where I can.

Furthermore, that’s not why I label myself as transspecies. When I first considered it, I started out by reading “Transspecies: Two Flags & An FAQ” at the Sundragon’s Roost.

Initially, I was skeptical over whether or not I’d fit the label. It was the first option I considered outside of the alterhuman community. Although plenty of alterhumans use the label (such as myself), I also knew the term took root decades prior to and outside of alterhumanity as we know it today. I wanted to get a basic understanding of the label and its community first.

While reading, this particular passage caught my interest:

“People who choose this label also often have political reasons for doing so– making a statement of refusal of the social construct of humanity, and deliberately drawing comparisons with the transgender experience in order to make people think about how we construct these categories.”

This follows after information regarding physical and/or social transition within the transspecies community. This perspective wouldn’t be the only one I’d find. It came up again in other transspecies readings such as Aster’s “Why I Call Myself Transspecies”:

“What I'm trying to get across is that the status of "human" is socially constructed. It's been granted and taken away based on things like race, ethnicity, disability, orientation, gender, and far more throughout history into the modern day. "Human" and what that means has been looked at in myriad ways by different peoples since homo sapiens could first question our own being. "Human" is not the same as Homo sapiens. And I feel neither.”

“Part of "transspecies" for me is criticizing the mixed messages I'm sent by society as a queer, Mad, crippled, plural, nonbinary alterhuman that I must be human -- but I'm not human and don't deserve to be treated like one. It's saying "fine, I'm not human, and I refuse to be." With the "dehumanization" I've faced, I'm choosing to embrace it. To say "no" to every effort to make me conform to the idea of "human" that is constantly shoved down our throats. To some degree, it's Voidpunk. But that's a very recent stance I've taken on it, and it's far deeper and older than that for me, too.”

“So, "transspecies" comes from two places for me: both a place of "human" as a social/political construct that I reject entirely, as well as an innate and literal part of myself. One rooted in lifelong dysphoria and a deep desire to change my body to resemble inhuman beings that's tied firm to my sense of gender and body.”

For the rest of the essay, Aster goes into detail about faer experiences with dysphoria (species- and gender-wise), how faer gender identity and species identity intertwine, the steps fae wants to take or already has taken to transition, and faer personal thoughts on the pursuit and struggle of attaining body modifications.

This includes seeing a therapist who supports faer identity, gaining tattoos to ease paw dysphoria, and estimating the financial requirements for faer transition ($4,800 upwards for ear-pointing surgery, digileg prosthetics, and other attributes). Although I’m not sure how old this essay is, I still resonate with it to this day.

Similar to Aster, my relationships with species and gender overlap. Each journey began with the realization that I didn’t need to confine myself to the standards of my surroundings. The society in which I live in is culturally Christian, increasingly cisheteronormative, and anthropocentric to its core. Time and time again, it’s been shown that this society doesn’t want any space for individuals like me and my communities. However, not once has that stopped us from embracing our personal autonomy.

Of course, I have my own reasons for using transspecies as a label:

1. My journey with my species identity parallels my gender identity.

Neither were known from the beginning, as much as I try to find signs in my childhood. Regardless, both resulted in my detachment from my society’s ontological “norms”.

2. Much like gender, I believe not only humanity but species as a whole is a construct.

I hold the right to express and interpret my species how I see fit. If I say I am a shapeshifter, then I am a shapeshifter. That should be acknowledged.

3. I resonate with the following definition: “crossing the cultural boundaries of species”. In my case, I am crossing the cultural boundaries of both species and reality.

I am transfictional. I am a fictional character and a member of several fictional species while existing in this world. Typically, your average person won’t believe my existence. After all, fiction is known for containing imaginary events, people, and worlds within its medium. Therefore, fiction isn’t regarded as a part of our reality.

What we define as “reality” can be split into two categories: shared reality and personal reality. The former is something we all exist within and engage in, but what we share doesn’t determine the finer details of one’s personal reality. At the same time, no one is obligated to adopt another’s personal reality but they’re still obligated to respect and coexist with it as long as it isn’t harmful.

Let’s use spiritual belief as an outside example. I am an agnostic animist. I don’t follow a religion, but I do believe that all things contain a spirit of sorts— that includes plants, theriform animals, elements of nature, and inanimate objects. I don’t expect others to adopt my beliefs in order to respect me.

Conversely, do I believe this world was made by a single, all-powerful God? I used to. It’s not my cup of tea anymore. Do I believe in pantheons? I think they make more sense than a single god controlling everything, but nope, still not my cup of tea. My reasoning? I believe we have no set way of proving nor disproving the creation of this world through divinity.

That said, I do believe this world has a supernatural quality to it. In other words, I believe in spirits. Although our beliefs don’t align, I’m not clashing with a devout follower or an atheist. That’s a part of their personal reality. It’s not a part of mine, but I respect it at a distance. No one’s required to add the existence of fictional worlds to their list of beliefs around me. But, basic respect is required if we’re going to interact.

Being a part of this world and in this body doesn’t define me as an individual. I involve myself in the social and political climate of my surroundings, because it will ultimately affect my experiences here. That said, I don’t need to adopt every concept of being as my own in the process— that includes how I’m perceived in this society and the world at large.

4. I challenge the notion that personhood is exclusive to human beings.

Gender and sexuality, for example, are steadily deconstructed in our societies, not only on the basis of personal experience but how these concepts are perceived in our cultures and their social mores. If we’re capable of deconstructing these concepts on such a level, then the same case should be made with the concepts of species and personhood.

Consider those who entirely reject humanity. Now, consider those who experience humanity and nonhumanity as a spectrum, or are already nonhuman and developing their own connection to humanity. What of those who created their species or have no species of their own? Where do those of us belonging to multiple species, with fluctuating species, or experiencing all species at once fall? Personhood is an open concept. Anyone and anything can exist as a person in our societies.

Personhood shouldn’t have to involve human identity unless an individual feels that it is applicable to themselves. Anthropocentrism has governed the concept of being for as long as Earth’s been spinning. By being transspecies, and transfictional no less, my existence contradicts the notion that only humans of this planet and reality can be people.

As mentioned in Aster’s essay, this same demographic has continuously stripped personhood from their own kind on the basis of race, ethnicity, disability, gender and sexuality, and many more concepts. What grounds does humankind have in claiming that only they can be people? Some of humankind’s worst actors don’t recognize more than half of the planet’s population as people because they don’t fit their image of supremacy. This is also touched on in Akhila’s argumentative essay, “On the appropriation of trans narratives by therianthropes”, but under the context of humanity:

“We should also keep in mind that in the past the humanity of some people was denied and some groups were considered closer to nonhuman animals than humans. What constitutes “humanity” has been subject of centuries of philosophical debates, and the boundaries defining “human” has always been rather blurry and shifting depending not only on scientific progress but also on cultural and historical contexts.”

And that’s only covering humanity as a concept, given that it’s treated as synonymous with all things “just” and “civilized”. Never mind the fact that human (species) and person (concept) are also treated as synonymous. Yet, if a human being is denied personhood for the constructs they fall into, where does that leave us?

What makes someone a ‘person’? When personhood can be revoked and redefined so easily by a ruling class, that begs the question of whether or not personhood is truly based in humanity. If humanity is no longer the defining factor, then what is?

Humans can’t argue on the basis of general intelligence, that’s for certain. I’ve discussed in a separate post that plenty of non-sapient animals, such as dolphins and octopi, are incredibly intelligent on their own. As are humankind’s closest living relatives, chimpanzees and other primates. If we were to use intelligence as a metric, not specifically sapience, then that would open up thousands of doors. Anthropocentric thought often ignores the fact that all animals are intelligent, with or without sapience.

Topics such as these are why I consider my transspecies experience to be largely philosophical. We should continue to push the boundaries of species, especially regarding who our societies choose to recognize as people and who they don’t.

[mythos-night]

Somethings never Change

"Ah." Supervillain hummed as he sat on the rooftop, letting his legs dangle off the edge. "The cycle continues."

Superhero chuckled as he laid his head on Supervillain's shoulder, fiddling with the wedding ring on his finger, a matching one on Supervillain's hand. "The cycle continues."

They both watch Hero and Villain, formerly their sidekicks, sit on a rooftop a couple of buildings away, unaware they are being watched as they settle down for a picnic date together. 

"It's almost hilarious how they tried to hide this from us," Supervillain murmured, observing as Villain cracked a joke, sending Hero into a fit of giggles. "And to think this was us 5 years ago."

Superhero snorted, "Some things will never change, I guess." They buried themselves deeper into his lover's side until they almost looked like one person melted together. 

"Do you remember how your sidekick used to cling to you when she was first inducted?" Superhero felt Supervillains fingers brush over their shoulder. 

"Do you remember how yours accidentally ran into a wall on his first mission?" Superhero retorted, but there was no malice in their voice. 

Supervillain kissed Superhero's forehead. "I call being the Officiant at their wedding."

Superhero gasped. "You wouldn't dare take that honor away from me."

Supervillain grinned that same grin that used to scare away any civilian who looked at him. "Oh, I dare. Besides, you need to walk Hero down the aisle." 

Superhero huffed, "You win, I guess." He stood up, "I call the movie tonight."

"You mean the movie you're going to sleep through anyways?"

"I hate you."

"No, you love me."

They ended up leaving Hero and Villain to their little date, watching a movie of Superhero's choice (Which Superhero fell asleep to minutes in, and Supervillain dozed off shortly after, cradled in each other's arms).

First story on here! Ig it's a bit of a prompt? Idk. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated!

[wholives-whodies-whotellstory]

friendly reminder that this is what I like to spend my time doing on my phone when I'm not trying to escape reality

no I still don't take constructive criticism sorry

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Kinda relating to your latest post about Lila as a villain/new butterfly:

Honestly, I think it would've been more interesting if the new villain had a different miraculous (let Nooroo rest pls). Or better yet, a TEAM of supervillains. That way there could've been new powers that the hero team has to adjust to. Buuut that obviously would've required better lore and world building like 2 seasons ago so..┐⁠(⁠´⁠ー⁠｀⁠)⁠┌

Also I've seen a theory that Lila is actually also a sentibeing and that's why everyone believes her lies without any critical thinking (or just basic IQ). I think the whole sentibeings thing is the stupidest plot in the show, but in Lila's case I would be willing to accept it because anything would be better than a 15yo mean girl being Ladybug's biggest threat yet...

(Post in question)

I completely agree with everything you said, especially the sentiLila stuff. If sentihumans have to be a thing, then for the love of the gods use that plot point to explain Lila! Something, anything, to justify why she's able to do the absurd things canon lets her do! Plus I'd just like to see one of the sentihumans get special powers because what's the point of introducing magical constructs that can have super powers if you don't give them super powers? I believe that Adrien was literally made from love and yet he gets no love-based powers even though he absolutely should!!! The setup for it is perfect! (See power of love rant for more on this.)

In case anyone is curious, I'll quickly address fixing Lila on a broader scale since I've got posts that I can link to. The sentimonster take would be my path if you wanted to have her use a miraculous and be tied to the Agreste plot, but I personally prefer this fix:

In this AU, Lila is from some sort of evil organization that uses their power for evil purposes (there are lots of routes you can got with this from evil magic to evil company, so let's stay high level and not commit to a path). The organization sees the miraculous being used in Paris and sends Lila to Paris to try to get her hands on the miraculous. Lila is specifically sent because of the Ladyblog. The organization views Alya as an easy in and so they send a teenage member or someone's kid who desperately wants to be part of the group. This new Lila shows up claiming to be a Ladybug superfan, which instantly bonds her to Alya. Marinette's dislike of Lila now stems from Lila wanting to know all of Ladybug's secrets, which obviously raises red flags for Marinette, but not for Alya because Alya wants the same thing. In fact, Alya is really baffled why Lila's obsession rubs Marinette the wrong way because Marinette has always been fine with Alya having the same obsession. We know that the answer is that Marinette trusts Alya, but Lila is a wild card, but of course Alya doesn't know any of that. This makes the Marinette and Alya clash over Lila a lot more complex because it's no longer about lies. It's about trust and Marinette has no way to explain why trust is a factor without outing herself as Ladybug.

This still makes the miraculous the reason for Lila's presence, but you mitigate that by having her tied to some evil group that does evil things without miraculous magic. This evil group would simply like to add a miraculous to their arsenal because miraculous sound quite useful. Defeating the evil group has non-miraculous-based benefits for society, thereby making the miraculous feel like a benefit to society instead of something that should probably be destroyed since they seem to cause more harm than good.

[mhfkah]

as a long-term person within the critical 'community' [Using that term lightly] that faced harassments from fans, stans, and other critics despite being a CSA survivor myself, thank you so much for being honest and open about this kind of thing. Even when v1v is faced with someone willing to engage in a healthy critique of her work over 'Hey it's pretty messed up how you swept all of season 1 under the rug for wattpad yaoi pretty harmful to portray gay people this way and especially gay abusers to just suddenly bend the plot over backwards to excuse him' she STILL can't appreciate or hear other peoples' viewpoints and just defaults into 'well its MY fiction and MY characters and OTHER people sympathize with sto/lass so THEREFORE just because you're a minority and opposing opinion means I DON'T have to listen to you!' is so.... childish? embarrassing? BAFFLING???? I don't understand this womans logic shes in her thirties and can't even handle CONSTRUCTIVE criticism HOW did she buy herself into the industry that is about teamwork and listening to others' inputs i don't understand.. v1/v aside, please continue to be a critical and please speak your peace and opinions over the dogwater spineless shows as shameless as the writing is it needs to be addressed how harmful and openly toxic the fandom interprets these shows it's so upsetting especially when victims can't even engage in a critical discussion just to be shot down over 'well it's not YOUR show so YOU should keep your opinions to yourself :)' i'm tired of keeping critical takes and actively engaging conversations discussing how harmful, worrisome, and downright disrespectful all the themes and subtext of both the shows are. Please don't stop, you have the support of other people who have gone through the same type of things as you have and we NEED to support one another against the endless toxic positivity that is the fandom... much hugs and love I hope you have a nice day and I'm sorry if this ask was exhausting...

-s0da_an0n-

Not exhausting at all! Thank you for the insight and support <3

I cannot wrap my head around closing yourself off from all venues of criticism under the guise of, 'oh well, it's my story, so what I say goes'. This sort of mindset only works if you are a novice engaging in a hobby with no interest in broadening your reach or improving your work. Once you have that sizeable of an (impressionable) audience, you can no longer disregard the opinions of people telling you your work is harmful.

If you have a platform, you need to consider what it is you're pedaling. You can and will be held responsible for your actions and choices made; this isn't exclusive to Vivziepop. Your fans look to you for inspiration and will lift ideas from your works. They aren't going to think twice about whether or not it's wrong because they idolize you and your body of work. I'd be going this hard on any other creator if they were making the choices she was.

It's just frustrating. You have younger, fledgling creators just breaking into the sphere taking harmful aspects from her work and running with it. There have been takes made in earnest about how Blitz' lack of consent was just, 'part of their game', and that Stolas came from the purest of intentions and is simply blissfully unaware of their class disparity!

If the critique does not reach her, then I hope it shifts some current fans' opinions. Either or would be lovely.

[scar-and-boomerang]

Zukka 🤝 Wuko

Grumpy but secretly soft firebenders with their disaster nonbender boyfriends who cannot be serious for one (1) second to save their own lives but is actually surprisingly competent... at times...

[tignya]

So, there were only men on the titanic sub. That means 80 years from now there needs to be a movie about two men on the sub falling in love in their last moments before moobak.

[bamsara]

I think that one thing people fail to understand is that unsolicited literary criticism coming from an online stranger who is reading with no knowledge of what the authors intended goal is, is not going to be received the same as say: the authors beta reader or friends who know what the authors intended goal and has the sufficient knowledge and input to help the author reach that desired outcome.

"But I'm only trying to be helpful" How do I know you have the knowledge and literary skill for you to be able to actaully do that when we don't know each other and you are essentially a stranger to me? Are you applying this criticism based out of personal biased experience and desire to see the story or characterization be driven in another direction or tweaked, or do you know the author's intentions for the character? If the story is incomplete, are you basing your criticism of a character on the incomplete narration with only partial information available of them or are you building up a report until the story's completion? Did the author provide you with the information needed to make a fully informed criticism?

Have you discussed with the author what their plans are or are you assuming them based off the narration, especially if the narration is proven or implied to be unreliable or missing key points of the plot? Are you unbiased enough to help them reach their desired outcome for the characters and story regardless of your personal feelings towards the characters/antagonists and setting? Can you handle being told your specific input isn't wanted because you're a reader and/or have no written anything relating to their genre or topic? Do you understand and respect that the author's personal experiences might influence their writing and make it different than how you would have done it personally? Do you understand if an author only wants input from a specific demographic relating to their story?

If it's for fanfiction or other hobby media, are you holding a free hobby to a professional standard? Are you trying to give criticism because you feel like the author has produced 'subpar job performance' of their fic? Are you viewing their work as a personal intimate outlet or something that must conform with mass media? Are you applying rules and guidelines when the fic is shared for simple sharing sake? Is your criticism worded appropriately and focused on the parts where the author has requested input on rather than a general dismissal and or disapproval?

Have you put yourself in a place where you assumed you have the input needed for the story to evolve better, or have you asked what the author needs and what they're having trouble with? Can you handle having your criticism rejected if the author decides their story doesn't need the change and not take it as a personal offense against your character? Are you crossing that boundary because you think you are doing the author a favor? Are you trying to be helpful, or do you just want to be?

I think sometimes when people hear authors go 'please don't give me unsolicited writing advice or criticism' they automatically chalk it up to 'this author doesn't want ANY constructive feedback on their stuff at all' and not "i already have trusted individuals who will help me with my writing goals and- hey i don't know you like that, please stop acting so overly familiar with me'

[antiadvil]

Jesus had 12 followers DanAndPhilGAMES has 2.89 million 🙄

[phosphophillight]

shes my favorite character forever… some mahiru doodles i made while i watched a show with a friend. still trying to figure out how to draw her bc theres an animatic i want to make with her rlly bad.. maybe in a few months

[isawjamfirst]

🐺🐺🐺

[answermywearyquery]

happy pride! 🌈 | beyond evil edition (insp: ½ + ½)

+ bonus:

[laithraihan]

My character Salmon Nicotine (or Saumon Nicotine idgaf) (name can also be shortened to Sonya)