#put human in academia

[mysunfreckle]

(:

Here there be credits!

Marvellous text by @krindor, in reply to @micewithknive's post and @triquizzies' comment.

Inspired by @itsbenedict's flawless reading of @maverick-ornithography's infamous post.

Pelican image source [X].

Music: Ambuscade by Purple Planet.

With love to @starkey <3

[lancteu]

first thing ive done in like . forever that wasnt a redraw LMAO

[that-spider-fan-over-there]

Something about Izuku I keep thinking about is how much he's a downright hypocrite and the only reason he isn't called out on it is because he's one for himself and not for others and at the core of it all it boils down to his pending childhood issues and the *vaguely gestures* "relationship" he and Katsuki have- I mean, just out of the top of my head:

Wants to be a strong and dependable hero but is at his weakest when he's alone.

Says to Himiko he would never hurt someone he loves but was the reason Katsuki was forced to dance with death until his own sacrifice. Hell, I'm expecting him to actually accidentally hurt Katsuki (Physically? Emotionally? You decide) next time they talk.

Wants to save people with a smile but barely cracked genuine ones during his battle with Tenko- I can think of two(?), and even then those felt more like a resignation (379 and 412 iirc) than actual smiles.

Being aware Kacchan's a jackass, fine, but the entire "Imitate the people you love/admire" themes, having an attitude when heated or absolutely Done with anyone's BS (makes sense for someone who grew up besides a kid in the Inferiority-Superiority Complex but still) and "This is a battle between All For One and One For All, you can't keep up" is still very much pot calling the kettle black (it's because his "arrogance" is rooted in selflessness and desire to be useful but that's for another day)

Deadass called All For One out for being a lonely man pretending to be a "Demon Lord" yet will not admit he himself thinks a he's just a lonely kid pretending to be a hero; and by the time he seemed to be growing out of it: Paranormal Liberation Front.

"IT'S YOUR POWER, ISN'T IT?!" Cool, nice of him to comfort Shoto and try the same with Touya, now if only he could do the same in regards to himself and OFA-

Wasn't able to connect with Tenko at all and that's why he failed but it's wild to me he'd still the one who even at surface level could relate to):

Spinner, because they're nerds who were ostracized based on Quirks/lack thereof looking for a purpose and were unable to help him because of AFO's interference;

Himiko, because they want to be like others (because they hate themselves at least a little bit) but also show love in a way others wouldn't accept and;

Touya, because they wanted to prove they could be useful to others and be heroes to the point of actively harmed themselves while using their own Quirk.

Hell, when you think about it he related to the crying child but he could've used Literally Anything from his relationship with Katsuki to try and reach Tenko, but of course he didn't, that means he'd have to think about his own issues and yet he saw Tenko's issues no wonder he didn't get the job done-

Also can we talk about him saying he relates to Ochako confronting Himiko but she actually succeeded- Or even Shoto wanting to forgive Endeavor; I keep recalling both Ch. 322 him saying he won't forgive Tenko for anything he did (understandable but still) and Tenko going "And I won't forgive anyone". Connecting these three instances are huge stretches, I know, but really, he hasn't addressed the apology he got- combined narrative punishments for empty platitudes.

Kept saying he needed to improve in his control with OFA: had to get beaten up during his internship and in the Summer Camp for that lesson to stick... Then he heard the words "Control Your Heart" and decided to Not Address It At All.

Supposed to surpass but he's really All Might's successor in every way that counts: Smile so nobody will worry, keep fighting even though you are destroying yourself, be so selfless you'll make your friends desperate enough to make you stop for your own good, hide every single thing you can about yourself, the only difference is in the bed they made: Toshinori lies in omission most of the time, and Izuku thinks he lies in white when almost every other character's in the dark, but as long as there's a dream of bright smiles in the future, who cares they're now forcefully entangled in this nightmare, right?

And these are just the examples I can think of the top of my head, there might be more, but. No wonder we've been "panicking" (let's be real his therapist already scheduled him for Ground Beta atp-) Shoto and Ochako brushed him off by accident in Chapter 425, it's the consequences of his hypocritical ass coming back to bite him-

(I am not hating on him, by the way, it's just something about him I wanted to point out. I like that aspect of his. Makes him more human. But jeez can someone call him out and make him practice what he preaches? XD)

[neverendingford]

.

[callmerina]

little late to the trend but i've finally finished this ⭐️

[teh-nos]

that thing where an online community (such as but not limited to tumblr dot com) hears about an idea that's been presented in one (1) book or peer-reviewed article and this is immediately adopted as The Truth even though that's not how it works. that's not how anything works, why are you all so easily convinced? and most of you haven't even read the work in question, you just believed someone else's post about how This Is Now Definitely True :|

[poolsidescientist]

I think one of the reasons I'm disgusted with and have a deep dislike of leftists in a way I don't with conservatives is because the right has never been on my side and never pretended to be. Never did the tiki torch nazi or the 4chan trolls or even the wealthy WASPs who had deluded themselves that they deserved better than other people pretend to care about anyone other than themselves. They hate everyone who isn't them. The ones not all the way down the white-supremacist pipelines want everyone to be like them. A lot of evangelicals fit into that box. Community is conditional, but on some level it does exist. There are rules that work for some people at some times if you conform. You might not agree with everything the pastor says, it's best not to listen too closely, but there's a good chance someone will bring you a casserole if you need it if you're part of the community.

Leftists have a lot of the evangelical mindset but, in my experience, without many of the things that draw you into those circles in the first place. They value moral purity at least as much as the conservative christians but without any of the positives of that church community. There's always talk about helping the poor and disenfranchised. Of the "revolution" which is rapture with the serial number filed off. They have the buzzwords of "solidarity" and "accountability" and often take maximalist stances on issues which get in the way of actually solving problems. They're not going to bring you a casserole, you're privileged by the way. They speak of justice and inclusivity but that only extends to certain groups that fit their narrative. Try talking to a Stalinist about the Holodomor or even the current war in Ukraine...good luck. The cause is more important. It's all privileged white people anyways. Read theory instead. They want everything from you and offer you nothing in return. But they'll always remind you that you owe them everything. They like when the right is in power because they get to play revolutionary while abandoning whatever social justice entities or ideals they cannibalized in the name of clout.

The right split people up into "us" and "them". The left split people up into demographic traits, projects values on to people, and reduce peoples to nothing more but the parts of their identity they can't control. Both dehumanize people. The right will hate you because you're not them, the left hate you specifically because of who you. It's the difference between being told "justice is this specific interpretation of scripture and you're a sinner if you deviate from it" vs "justice for everyone but not you because you're a dirty jew (or other acceptable target because of 'privilege' but both right and left really hate jewish people). On the right it's "everyone who isn't us isn't human and we can hurt them all we like" vs on the left it's "everyone is human except for you and we will throw everyone else under a bus if we get to hurt you more". Both are painful, the latter is personal. Even if I agree with a lot of progressive principals it really is a toxic space with no community and no value in building one.

I think the only remedy to this is to see people as humans rather than concepts based on us vs them or other demographic characteristics. Yes, these things play a role in how people live in the world, but people are more than their circumstances. Academia is hell right now, I don't think I'll do any more academic social engagement outside of career-related networking. But I would donate to the local food bank or animal shelter and try to talk to my neighbours. They're people before they're a checklist of demographic traits. Often the people I know who are the least politically involved have the most compassion for others. Everyone has biases, I certainly do, but getting to know people from a place of humanity rather than buzzwords or political ideology at either end of the spectrum seems to be the best way to build community and understanding when possible. Take the good parts of church forward: make an extra casserole.

[pls-explodingstars-pls]

If I were to start doing writings do I do it here or on another website (like ao3???)and post a link?

Im so srs guys 🤔🤔🤔

I see people doing both

What gets you more views or hearts or reblogs? I don’t really know how this works 😎👌

[sergioguymanproust]

Why do so many are abandoning their religious beliefs and their faith? Why?! The reason to me is an obvious one ,nothing and I mean nothing lasts forever! Although many are shocked by this,think for a moment,we are not perfect beings , look,we keep repeating the same mistakes over and over again this is a fact proven time and time again. The lies ,deceit and mass indoctrination cannot last forever even the ridiculous claims of a Christ being represented one day as a white ,blond hair,blue eyes and the next a brown man with Afro like brown hair brown eyes,dressed in ragged clothing,and then as a black man dressed in tattered clothes,with black eyes scruffy beard, Afro ,missing teeth ,homeless being is ridiculous and offending.The latest is some claiming he was an alien.The contradictions and endless line of disparities puts me to sleep. But that doesn’t end there ,the corruption and sexual deviations of the clergy is not only disgusting,but to claim they are the representatives of a superior power while leaving a mess on the planet ,remember the inquisition and beheading of children by of other known religions is so atrocious that no wonder the hordes of people having had enough of their false propaganda and prophets are simply disgusted.I couldn’t blame them . On top of that ,the cherry on top of the cake is forcing their congregation to give 10% of their income to the church is not only morally wrong but disgusting .It is plain to see! Remember folks ,pretending to do good is false but allowing to work in cahoots with governments and allowing wars to continue to support wars in the name of God is not only evil but morally wrong. Folks there’s so much of history that has been kept secret by the church ,so much secrecy by the, elites all approved by the church against the masses that it is out of this world . Talk about sins ,haa! Go figure! The list of dark ages,dark times, dark days,dark souls,dark angels ,dark secrets is endless.All this dump on this planet by who? Well,you know who. I won’t mention names because as they say it is unholy.You get my drift .Now more than ever we need someone from above to come down and put the world in its place .Well,this third dimension is so ,so dense ,someone said a cesspool of darkness, that continues to destroy this so called prison planet.Can’t wait to ascend and enter the fifth dimension and beyond away ,yes far away from this world , hard to believe a benevolent god of the light could allow such a place to exist.Words by Sergio GuymanProust.

[elainemorisi]

cannot tell if I'm Sturgeon's Lawing it, overextrapolating, or in fact remotely onto a thing, but... Media These Days is really taking shortcuts with like, [especially moral] characterization, right? like this isn't a remark in any direction about the contents of the morality, it's a remark about how many times I've watched/read a thing and sat there going like, I'm pretty sure you (writing) expect me to take this as believable, but you actually just have a paper doll mouthing words here, this isn't believable just because the paper doll is mouthing The Good Guy Words

and like it's something beyond Pet The Dog, is the thing. I've no objections to dog-petting as a tool. one identifiable difference being that The Good Guy Words are then later made load bearing for reversal, of all fucking things. it's one thing to have Designated Good Guy that's fine (and actually this stuff is more Designated Sympathetic, so again, "moral" being used very loosely). but if you want?? as I think you want??? me to first believe that DGG is in fact G but then! to be shocked when he isn't... you gotta do more than mouth words. we don't actually share an unspoken and obvious moral code, you the writer and I. but also even in cases where I don't outright disbelieve your definition of Good it... still doesn't work. there's still no there there

and like the fixes are there, but they're not so similar as to feel like the explanation is really in them (closest generalized fix is "remember the agency of other characters" but like that's a fix for so much bad writing it barely counts). it sorta just seems like this particular bar has sunk into the floor? but why?

tl;dr the experience is "I'm not conflicted[/shocked/moved], I'm confused" and I swear, it's increasing. often in total (but popular) shit, sure, but sometimes in not-utter-shit-in-every-other-respect stuff too. and just, why??

[alexanderwales]

I think ChatGPT is going to end up writing a lot of sermons.

I have two cousins whole are pastors, and they're diligent about planning out sermon series, and writing new sermons every Sunday, being studious in their work, spending the necessary time preparing, etc.

I imagine that, as with most professions, not all pastors will be quite that devoted. Sermon plagiarism is already a serious issue, at least, per my cousins, a problem mostly because it's dishonest misrepresentation of someone who is supposed to be a spiritual leader.

So as with academia, there are probably varying levels of how you'd use AI to write a sermon. Maybe you're just asking ChatGPT some questions because it's "faster" than looking something up yourself. Maybe you're not AI-literate, so you're taking what it says at face value, accepting its interpretations of scripture.

Or maybe you're just asking for the AI to write a whole sermon for you, because that saves you ten hours of writing, study, and reflection.

So I think we can agree that this is going to happen in some fraction of America's 300,000 churches, and that it would be extremely difficult to spot, especially for the more transient sermons that aren't put up online, that only exist in the moments they're spoken.

I'm an atheist, but there's something poetic about it, the sum total of human conversation digitally devoured, the word of God placed into the machine, interpreted and spat back out, having at least some small amount of influence on the way people actually live, how they relate to their faith.

I need to talk to my cousins about it, but I would guess they don't have my same detatched interest in the topic.

[gh0sthoodie]

reblogging for the tags thank you for putting this into wordsssss

Have you heard of the “dark academia aesthetic”? If so, do you like it and have you employed it into the ~vibes~ and ~themes~ of some of your work? Asking because I’ve seen many people interpret Magnus as belonging to that kind of vibe and wondering if that was your intended vision

It's hard to articulate why exactly this ask a amuses me so much. Essentially "dark academia" tends to be a slightly cartoonish fashioned-up vision of old British scholarly institutions, as interpreted by American kids who are just picking up on the vibe. As a Brit who's spent most of their life in London, Oxford, Manchester and the various libraries and museums therein, it's not an aesthetic or a vibe - it's just what I know. Also, from what I can tell one of the other main inspirations for "dark academia" is adaptations of Victorian and Edwardian spooky fiction (James, Blackwood, Dickens, etc.) which are exactly the sort of ghost stories I was reading as a kid and which inspires a lot of my work.

So, I guess my feeling is Magus wasnt aiming for a dark academia vibe - dark academia is aiming for a *Magnus* vibe. And it's not nailing it.

[ammoniteblue]

college rival! kenji sato who’s trying to break the stereotype that student athletes can’t be smart. his dad is a genius for fucks sake. so he takes the hardest classes. computer science. applied physics. chemistry. its hard. super hard and most days he falls asleep after practice still sticky and sweaty, with a book on his face. but he does it. and slowly people begin to recognise the freshman who waltzes into the library’s bio-chem section with a baseball mitt and jersey. it’s how you begin to notice him anyways. and then you realise the new starter for the college baseball team might actually give you some trouble.

college rival! kenji sato who starts to put his hand up to answer questions. at first it was just one or two, but soon he’s sticking his hand up for every. single. one. questions you would usually answer. he’s almost never wrong but when he is you make sure to be the one to correct him. it quickly becomes a competition. in lectures. in classes. the other students start to notice, and word of the budding rivalry between the quiet scholarship student and freshman star of the baseball team spreads.

college rival! kenji sato who refuses to leave the library till you do. he’ll sit at a table, books spread out, laptop open, taking notes and making flash cards, until his vision blurs and his fingers cramp. but he won’t be the first to go. absolutely not. it won’t be till the last person has left that the librarian will scuttle round to tell you both to get lost. as you both leave you make a point to ignore each other, but he can feel you shooting daggers at his back.

college rival! kenji sato who nearly crushes his water bottle when he reads your article in the school newspaper. he’s surprised to see you write for the sports column and even more surprised to see you’ve named him. till he reads the flurry of insults and unflattering idioms. “more ego than man”, “bad team player”, “distracted”. of course he’s distracted ! you’ve been on his mind for weeks. constantly making jabs at him in class, sprinting to answer your professors questions first in lectures. he’s not been able to eat, to sleep, not without thinking about your stupid fucking smirk as you try to remind him that he, a college athlete, belongs at the bottom of the academia totem pole.

college rival! kenji sato who tries to ignore you when you turn up at one of his games. he doesn’t understand why you’re there, till he sees your friends join you. It’s weird he thinks, when you’re with them laughing and smiling you don’t actually look that bad. but then your eyes find his and that laughter, that warmth, is gone and kenji remembers that nope you are an insufferable bitch.

college rival! kenji sato who finds himself at the same stupid house party as you. he’s with a few of his teammates, it’s after the game. they won. they’re celebrating. most of them are red-faced, drooling drunk. he’s nursing a beer, can in hand, when he spots you from across the room. you’re leaning against the wall in what looks like a casual manner, till kenji takes a closer look. then he sees the guy, some dude from you shared AP physics class. Paul or Pete ?? Kenji doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. not when he sees the guy lean down to kiss you, just for you to try and push him away. He’s by your side before he has time to register what he’s doing.

college rival! kenji sato who not only knocks a guy out for his class rival, but bails on a night out. he offers to take you home and doesn’t say a word when he gives you his letterman jacket, after noticing you shivering. it’s warm and smells of polish and freshly cut grass. neither of you say a word, which is what makes it even more bizarre when you lean up to kiss him. you’re nowhere near your dorm, outside some random humanities building, but you can’t help it. for weeks you’ve been puzzling over why he bugs you so much, why his constant presence in classes and lectures, in your favourite study spots, sends your heart into a flurry. sometimes anger and attraction can feel very similar.

college rival! kenji sato who finds himself in your dorm room, your roommate nowhere to be found. He lets you push him back onto the bed, lets you be the one to tug his shirt off. it’s been weeks of constant battling for control and yet here he is giving up so easily. Kenji gives you the victory you’ve been looking for just to see the smile on your face.

college athlete kenji = late night brainrot. if you enjoyed lemme know if i should do a part 2. Next part of Not a hero, Just an Author will be up soon <333

[trampleddoves]

Thigh riding Spencer? I LOVE ur work btw

s. r. blurb 5

contents: afab!prof!reader x prof!Spencer, mutual masturbation (thigh riding and jerking off), office setting, MDNI.

If anyone were to say that you, newly appointed, highly intelligent, a hundred percent competent, ascended to professor status simply because you slept your way to the top, then they would be wrong. You’re more than capable, after all, with a PhD. under your belt, and several published research acclaimed by your peers. It’s offensive to attach your success to the cliche notion of giving favors to a man, and most of your colleagues would jump at the opportunity to defend you.

Which is why no one, under any circumstances, should see what’s happening right now—you, splayed across Professor Reid's thigh, skirt bunched up your waist as you rotate your hips eagerly. Grinning, putting on a show for your fellow professor. One which he thoroughly enjoys, judging by the way he’s holding his cock in one hand, pumping it up and down as he watches you.

Let’s make one thing clear: you aren’t performing sexual favors in order to advance. You and professor Reid are on equal footing—relatively new to the university, with your own niche fields, equally horny for each other. Regardless, the optics aren’t good. Two professors in a locked office, getting off on each other. Not fucking—you aren’t heathens. 

Not yet, at least. With the way things are going, you wouldn’t be surprised to find yourself bent over his desk within a few days. 

And you’d probably let him. Hell, you probably would have initiated it, just like you initiated today. You know what you want, and you go after them. It just so happens that Professor Reid is just as willing, just as needy, his mouth parted oh so prettily as his hand works over his long cock. The precum leaking out of the tip makes you bite your lip, rocking on his thigh even harder.

Beneath you, his muscles are tensing, thigh jerking up to meet your movements. You arch your back, angling in a way that lets your clit receive a little bit more attention and friction from where you're perched on him. You have no doubt that your panties are soaked through, and the thought of leaving a messy, wet stain on Spencer Reid’s thigh makes a soft whimper escape from your lips.

Spencer Reid, the very picture of professional decorum, going to class stained with your arousal. It turns you on more than you’d care to admit, pace quickening as you chase your high. Unabashed and sure. He watches, eyes nearly black as his hand moves faster, mimicking your rhythm.

“You close?” he asks hoarsely. His free hand cups your face with a tenderness that catches you off guard, but makes you smile all the same.

“Yeah,” you tilt your head slightly, catching his palm with a kiss. “Feels so good. Can’t get enough of you.”

“I know,” he leans in, giving your neck a quick bite. The sting is immediately alleviated by his tongue, and you cock your head to the side with a sigh.

“No marks,” you remind him.

He laughs into your heated skin in response, “Duly noted, professor.”

The honorific goads you on even more, hands clutching onto his shoulders to give yourself more leverage. “Fuck, I’m so close.” you groan, being careful not to make too much noise—his office isn’t soundproof.

“Me too,” he groans, his hips canting up into his fist, messing up your rhythm, but it’s okay because it makes his thigh press harder into your swollen, needy clit. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated, two smart people losing themselves to base, human need. Perhaps it’s what made you come here in the first place—the promise of defilement in a space you are meant to hold dear. It’s sacred for both of you—academia, the university—so it’s only fitting that you should be coming together like this—literally. 

Fingers digging into each other’s flesh in bruising grips as his cum spurts out and gets everywhere. The large, wet spot on his slacks as you continue to rub your soaked panties against his thigh, relishing in that sweet after-orgasm sensitivity, easing yourself from the high. 

He sighs, grabbing tissue off his desk. You’d once joked if he keeps them handy for when students come crying to him over failed marks, and he had said, “Among other things.”

Now, as he cleans up the evidence of your little tryst, you know exactly what other things he needs them for. Grinning, you slip off his thigh, shimmying your skirt back down over your thighs and legs. A sense of pride unfurls in your chest when you see how ruined he’s become. Curls sticking to his forehead, pants wet with multiple types of spend. You lean in, give him a peck at the corner of his mouth, alarmingly, ironically chaste after what you’d just done.

“I’ll see you around campus, Dr. Reid.”

“There’s a faculty meeting tomorrow night.” he reminds you, “Maybe you’d like to meet up before?”

You grin, “Here again?”

His smile is catlike, eyes already glinting again, “I was thinking I’ll stop by your office instead.”

“Deal.”

[saturnsorbits]

LiSyK: The Selection

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Prince!Bakugo, Suggestive. Word Count: 1.6k.

Summary: Closing in on his 20th name day, tradition dictates that Prince Bakugo choose his first concubines.

A/N: This might become a series, but don't hold your breath.

'I don't want a fucking -.'

Grabbing her son by the cheeks, Mitsuki Bakugo fixes the young prince still with a cold stare. 'You will do as you're told.'

'But -'

'It is tradition, Katsuki. Not even your ego is large enough to put an end to that.' She smirks before releasing her hold and wipes a hand on the left hip of her dress. 'Now, come on... You're late.'

Huffing, Bakugo tugs at his shirt to smooth the wrinkles left by his mother, but follows on her heels obediently. Usually, he'd put up more of a fight, throw a proper tantrum, but the pit of curiosity growing in his stomach stops him making too much fuss. He's fucking human, after all. Of course, he's going to be at least a little interested in the collection of concubines that had been assembled specifically for his perusal.

That didn't mean he had any intention of choosing any of them, though.

The doors of the main hall seem more daunting than usual, but Bakugo hides his trepidation well.

Or so he thinks.

Mitsuki's hand touches softly on his shoulder, guiding him, not through the main hall, but down the corridor. She offers out her elbow, letting him cling to her as they continue to drift closer to a small, more intimate, service room.

The marble clicks under their shoes, the sound amplified endlessly as it rings behind them announcing their arrival. Large windows scatter light, bringing out the red in both Bakugo and his mother's eyes as they pass the selection of special guards already stationed outside the room. All seven of them, five sworn to his mother and two to him, are dressed from head to toe in royal finery with the lightest of chain mail glittering over their chests. Swords hang from their hips, but Bakugo knows there are much more deadly weapons hidden under their clothes and tucked away from prying eyes.

Captain Aizawa, one of Mitsuki's most trusted knights bows low when they reach the door.

Reaching out, Mitsuki presses a hand to his shoulder and pushes him straight again. 'Enough of that, you'll put your back out.'

Aizawa's mouth moves to argue, but Mitsuki doesn't allow his voice to summon a sound.

'Shouta, you have more than earned the right not to bow.' She chides in a way that makes goose-flesh break out on the other guards, but the Captain simply laughs.

'Is the prince ready, My Lady?'

Mitsuki's hand wraps around her son's bicep giving him a firm squeeze. 'Oh, you know him. Dragged here kicking and screaming.'

Bakugo scowls.

'But, I'm sure he'll manage.'

Another guard, tall and broad in the shoulders with a close crop of dark hair and a booming voice clears his throat. 'If I may speak out of turn, Captain?'

'You will not Yoarashi.'

Mitsuki waves him off. 'Oh, let the boy speak Shouta.'

The guard, Yoarashi, smiles. His teeth are too big for his mouth, but somehow there's still something strikingly handsome about him. Bakugo hates it. 'The consorts have outdone themselves this time, I've never seen a more stunning array of -.'

Captain Aizawa silences his guard with a raised hand. 'That's quiet enough, I think the Queen understands your sentiment.'

'Quite.' Mitsuki smiles, locking a chuckle behind her teeth. 'Speaking of the wonderful job my husbands consort has done, I think it's time to see what Inko has found for us, don't you, Katsuki?'

Bakugo nods, it's all he ca manage with the nerves threatening to make his knees wobble like some common whore. His jaw is tight, teeth clenched in his mouth, but it soon looses as he the doors are thrown wide and he's allowed to step into the room.

Inside the room is dark, the thick red curtains covering the windows putting an end to any natural light that should attempt to slink inside. Instead, the room is illuminated by a series of high torches that cast a godly glow about and perfectly highlighting the row of people stood across the centre of the room.

At once, Inko is upon them. She wraps chubby arms around Bakugo without a second thought and greets his mother with a warm kiss to her hand when offered. Following at her heel is Izuku, her darling son. 'Brother.' Izuku smiles.

'Half Brother.' Bakugo spits the former piece of his sentence, enjoying the way it feels between his lips – the distance it offers him from the man before him. They're the same age. Both Mitsuki and Inko had been pregnant at the same time and the boys born mere months apart, although Inko had done the chief portion of the nursing; especially when Mitsuki's milk had dried up. Something that had lead both women to an unlikely friendship.

'I heard you've outdone yourself this time.' Mitsuki pulls at Bakugo, steering him around to the front of the room.

Bakugo's eyes wonder. There's a conversation flowing in the air around him, but he pays no heed. How can he, when the most beautiful man he has ever laid eyes on is looking directly at him.

The man lifts his head. He is bare to the waist with only the smallest piece of cloth to cover his dignity. If Bakugo where to walk around him, which he just might, he'd bet he'd be able to see his ass in all it's glory.

He has red eyes, violent carnelian, that pierce right to Bakugo's soul and red hair that is tied neatly in a bun atop his head. Licking his lips when he catches the princes' eye, the man smiles, flashing a row of blade-like teeth that threaten to bring Bakugo to his knees.

'Did you hear?' Mitsuki pats Bakugo's lapel.

He didn't, but he nods anyway.

His eyes slip further down the line, silently comparing each concubine to the next, but no-one compares to the red-eyed man until his eyes are blessed by you.

You're near the end, stood beside two others that don't even come close to your beauty with your chin tilted to the floor and your hands clasped neatly before you. Like the others, you're dressed in almost nothing, but it's the bright red 'V' painted onto your skin across the top of your breast bone that has him pausing.

He's seen the mark before and a cursory glance back down the line tells him exactly where. The red head, amongst two or three others, also bare the mark.

Bakugo swallows.

Already he can feel his breeches tightening uncomfortably.

'How many?' He snaps, forcing his eyes from the line and onto Inko.

She blinks. 'Pardon?'

'How many... For my... For my harem?'

'Oh. Most choose at least six to begin with, but after that is custom to add another concubine for each year until you reach 29. Sometimes other kingdoms will offer then as gifts, but you're more than welcome to dismiss -.'

Bakugo raises his hand. 'I don't want a history lesson.'

'Oh, I -.' Inko blushes.

'Brat, watch your tongue...' Mitsuki raises her hand to crack him across the back of the head, but the prince side steps her assault easily.

'I want that one...' He points at you, eyes narrowed and hungry before he turns, pointing at the red haired man at the other end of the room. 'And him. That's all.'

Mitsuki's brow furrows. 'Two? Inko here scourers the kingdom for the finest it had to offer and you choose only two?'

Bakugo folds his arms. He can feel your eyes, the red-heads too, burning through his skin. It makes him hot, makes him wonder what it'll be like when your eyes grow heavy, when they're spotted with ears and your mouths are full of his tongue, his fingers, his cock.

Clearing his throat, he tries to readjust his breeches.

He won't have to imagine soon. No, soon, you'll be his.

'Have them brought to my rooms tomorrow.' Turning on his heel he shouts over his shoulder before storming from the room before his cock begins to soak into his breeches.

Tomorrow, he thinks as soon as the doors slam shit behind him.

That should give him enough time to fist himself stupid to the thought of red eyes and glittering skin.

Hopefully, that would stop him making a fool of himself at the first meeting.

Bakugo already looks bored when you're brought into his rooms at noon the following day. The door closes behind you, a guard having performed the customary introductions, and all too quickly you're swallowed by the nerves that climb up your body and twist around your lungs.

Adjusting his seat, Bakugo pulls a foot up onto his chair and spreads his knees. A bark leaves his chest that he hopes is harsher than it feels. 'I don't fuck virgins...'

You hear the wet click of Kirishima's throat from beside you in the silence of the room. Even though the red ink is gone, the fact of your both being intact remains the same. 'Uhm, my lord... I mean – Prince Bakugo, I'm... I think there's been some mistake, we're – we're both -.'

'I know.' He waves his hand. Anticipation creates pins and needles in his thighs. Even if he wanted to fuck right now, he's not sure his body would hold out long enough. Maybe, five orgasms in the space of a day was too much.

'Well, you can see how this might be a problem then...' Twisting his knuckles around each other, Kirishima chews at his lip and forces a weak smile. It's strange how he makes six-foot of man look almost as small as you are, but he does it easily and blushes pretty to boot.

'How -.' He clears his throat. 'How are we supposed to serve you if -.'

'You're going to fuck each other, first.' He arches an eyebrow, drawling as if the solution to his little problem has been more than obvious. A smirk curls his lip. 'I'll watch.'

Next Chapter ->

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[anothermaletfwriter]

Soft and Sweet Macademia

Braydon was your typical jock, he loved to workout with his homies and be with his girl. She was Bethany, a nerd. Not that competitive gamer nerd he dreamed of, but rather a bookish one. They met a party and she instantly fell in love with him as he fulfilled the “nerd x jock” trope she had long yearned for.

Today, he was dragged by her to the bookstore for a special promotional event. In the brightly lit modern store that made him regret not bringing his sunglasses inside, a large bright green banner with low quality black bold typography said “Try An Extrasensory Novel today.” There were brightly green bookshelves of new trending books below it. A scent of macadamia nuts punched his nostrils.

“What the fuck?” He sniffed the air like a weirdo, “Do you smell that?”

“I don’t smell anything. The nearest coffee place is on the other side of the mall,” Bethany said, fixing her freshly dyed red hair. She had painted his white bathroom like a crime screen in an attempt to save hundreds of dollars.

“You must have lost your sense of smell then. It’s so pungent.”

“It’s not a spill. There’d be ants crawling all over this place right now.”

“It’s driving me fucking crazy,” Braydon dug his big hands into his scalp, subtly flexing his bicep, which was tightened by his white compression shirt, “I need to find out where it's coming from.”

“Right,” She rolled her dark eyes and flashed an attempted smile, “While you have your Telltale Nut moment, I’m going to the fantasy section. Wanna join me?”

“No. You know I don’t care about that stuff.”

“Are you kidding me?” She looked up at him, only reaching up to his chest. Her eyes ready to kill the muscular jock in front of her. “I play your games with you, watch those movies with you. Is it much to ask wish for my boyfriend to be actually into books I like. Plus dressing in a dark academia style.”

“More like I’m gonna dark macadamia nut in you when we get home after this," From his towering view over the shelf, Bethany walked herself to the other side of the store, her arms crossed. He imagined her annoying grumbling to herself. He knew she wasn’t a perfect fit so why should she assume he was?

The scent intensified as he knelt down on the bottom row of the shelf. His long legs extended far out, acting as a trip hazard for any unfortunate passersby's. While he had expected a spill of someone’s overpriced coffee, the smell lead him to single out a specific book. He swiped it out, brushing through the pages for any soaked spots but he couldn’t find any. The scent seemed to emanate from the entire book itself. He landed back on the cover, which was unappealing and bratty. While the background was a flat color of an obnoxious green, the text was a horror show. It was stretched out and in low quality. It read “Absolute Calculus: Being Open To Changes in Extrema”. It appealed to the jock as he was familiar with the concept of calculus, notably from the math classes he had to take for his finance degree. He believed he was better than the rest of his field as he took harder math classes than them.

Turning to the back, the blurb was soft and easy to the eyes with its soft tropical fruit palette of oranges to greens. It was a self-motivational book. Its main thesis pointed out the ultimate cause of human suffering: simply being unopen to novel things. It included knowledge, lifestyle and even experiences. He needed this

By the time he had flipped to the table of contents, he didn't realize he was getting smaller in height and build. His clothes became oversized on him, resembling more pajamas than a casual attire. While he was repulsed by some of the chapter titles, including accepting your non-het sexuality, he was unable to put the book down. This wasn't him. No matter how hard he pushed on his now dainty fingers, his eyes and hands were glued to the book, turning the multiple pages. He felt himself deflating and shrinking. He noticed that his once mountainous biceps had become nothing but flat plateaus and his impressive set of pecs deflated into a meager chest. He coughed violently as his Adam's apple shrunk, turning his mountainous voice into a soft dainty one.

What the fuck was happening? His soft fingers with nails painted in green flipped to Chapter 4: Self-acceptance is the key to accepting others. He tried to scream for Bethany to help but he didn’t know her. It would be rude to call out a stranger. But that couldn’t be right? That was his girlfriend. No, she was just a random book girl at the same store as him. His experiences of throwing week long benders and sleeping with a carousel of women afterwards faded. They seemed more like videos he had watched online than a lived reality. Visions of conquests of women replaced by men conquering him. The book had converted his heterosexuality into an irreversible total homosexuality. He was no longer the buff jock that sat next to the hot girls so he could be grouped together with them back in college. He was the quiet gay guy that sat in the back of the class, often wooed by the more upfront and passionate gay men that wanted him and his body. His eyes, once clung to women, had shifted its vision to guys. He wasn’t one to be picky, as he liked everything from twinks to hunks and everything in between those two. Even the dad-bod was something that turned him on.

Chapter 12: It’s All Perfect As It Is. With a dizzy head, he finished the book and returned it to the top shelf, struggling to place it even on his tippy toes. Brady felt a quick chill breeze through the room. He dug his hand underneath his oversized fuzzy hoodie and felt the smooth stomach flatten out. His memories of Bethany and her red-hair morphed into a different person. It was another Asian twink, they held their hands together in a cozy apartment and played on their Nintendo Switch. The earthy charcoal cologne he recalled using became sunshine vanilla perfumes that his boyfriend, Jeremy, purchased for his birthday.

The slim twink approached him, hugging him from the behind. Brady was only up to his shoulder. It felt good with his liking to being the little spoon.

“What took you so long, Babe? I looked at ten books while you were just looking at one?” Jeremy chuckled.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. You know I like taking my time with books.”

"Well there's other books in this store, babe," Jeremy teased, bopping Brady's nose.

They checked out the rest of the store, leaving with a few romance books purchased in their pink heart decorated totebag. They bumped into another couple on the way out and briefly apologized to them. He looked at the tall muscular man dressed in his beige jacket and black shirt, wishing that he was also into guys. He whispered to Jeremy about jokingly asking him if he wants to be their 3rd if they see him another time by himself.

Jeremy and Brady cuddled on the couch together, their bag of books untouched on the clean coffee table. Jeremy was always the one to initiate, including a make out session with Brady. Their lips were soft and fruity as they embraced each other with their tongues on their soft couch.

They spent the rest of the day on an impromptu spa night. They applied a green jelly mask, consisting of green tea and aloe vera, to their faces and wore cute soft pink headbands. It was a typical zen they practiced every week. Stress and such can cause more damage than one could imagine. They turned on the TV to watch the adaptation of CardiacPauser, Jeremy and Brady’s favorite series. Before they returned to the couch, they took a picture together in their bathroom, holding each other with their large smiles. It was just them and the rest of the world. This is what he was meant to be and nothing else.