#all i know is that i want him to be garbage

[lovemomhatepolice]

i'll make it fit - rafe cameron

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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: sexual overtones, established relationship, fingering, teasing, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), this damn tiny polo!!, English is my second language!, NO SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!

type: totally smut (this is the first time i've written something like this, which has practically no plot at all, just sex itself. keep my fingers crossed that it didn't turn out badly!!!), small plot but really small

word count: 1,8k

summary: rafe cameron likes things too small for him.

more content: obx masterlist, rafe cameron masterlist

Mornings in Tannyhill were mostly quiet. Since Ward Cameron was dead and his entire family had moved to a house in the Bahamas, it was quiet there. Hearing of Sarah had disappeared - she was probably somewhere with her friends, again putting her life at risk, nothing new. And the only one who lived there was Rafe, who had taken over the company from his father and decided to return to the “old garbage.” Well, and you lived there too, by the side of your beloved. You couldn't have dreamed of a better life.

You were awakened by the bright rays of the sun, which rudely crept through the slightly parted curtains into your shared bedroom. You dragged yourself lightly and glanced at the clock, which was on the bedside table and, as usual, was making that unbearable sound.

After muttered under your breath, you slipped out from under the warm quilt, which, to say the least, wasn't all that necessary - after all, it was summer. But by the fact that you were in just a lace petticoat, it definitely enveloped you with a warmth that was missing.

You didn't know what time it was, but by the fact that Rafe wasn't next to you, you knew it was probably after nine o'clock. You didn't have to look for him for long, because as soon as you stepped out into the hallway from your bedroom, you heard his voice. You looked out the balcony door, which was gently open, and smiled at the sight. Rafe, in a freshly stitched buzzcut, was sitting on the couch talking on the phone. In front of him on the coffee table he had papers spread out and a laptop in which he was busily tapping something. As soon as he noticed you he sent you a slight smile, but he was so engaged in the conversation that he did nothing more. And you couldn't be passive, after all, he was wearing a beautiful blue and damn tight polo that exposed his perfectly shaped biceps. You laughed quietly, seeing him nervously tweak them as they rolled up higher and higher each time, not covering as much of his arm as they should.

Despite his serious tone on the call, his eyes would flicker toward you every few moments, his smile softening just enough to let you know he was glad you were there.

Not one to resist temptation, you decided to have a little fun. You strolled over to him, moving slowly, letting your fingers trail along the back of the couch as you circled around to where he was sitting. Rafe’s eyes darted up, narrowing slightly in a silent warning.

You didn’t make it easy for him. With a mischievous smile, you leaned over and whispered into his ear, "That polo looks a little tight, don’t you think? You might need help taking it off later."

“Uh, yeah… sure,” he said to the person on the other end of the call, clearing his throat as if to regain his composure. “Send it to the office, they'll take care of it,” he muttered, hanging up.

You moved your hands over his shoulders, gently massaging them. Rafe put the phone down on the table, closed the laptop and leaned his head against the back of the couch, looking at you.

“You know what you're doing, huh?” he parroted under his breath.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, letting your breath tickle his skin. “Just trying to make sure my man relaxes after handling all that business.”

“And what am I supposed to do with you?” he muttered, covering yours with his hands. “Whatever you want,” you muttered, going down with your palms on his chest. “Oh, but this polo is really too small for you.” Rafe laughed under his breath and gracefully helped you past the couch so that you were now standing in front of him, between his legs. You were in just a white lace slip that didn't cover much underneath, so Rafe could immediately see your hardening nipples.

You let out a soft laugh as Rafe’s strong hands gripped your thighs, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap. You straddled him, your knees sinking into the plush cushions of the couch on either side of his hips. The way he looked up at you—like you were the only thing in the world that could hold his attention—sent a warm rush through your veins.

"So needy" He muttered, stroking your hair and putting it behind your ears. “Who would have thought that you would beg for my attentions so much?”

“I'm not begging,” you muttered, swallowing your saliva loudly.

You could have sworn that in that moment Rafe heard your loud heartbeat. And even though you had been together for more than a year, he continued to trigger the same feelings in you. “No?” he asked ironically, his hand touching your pussy, which was covered only by a thong. “I would say something else.”

“Rafe,” you muttered, gently pushing your hips out to meet him as his nimble fingers pressed your clit harder. “So wet,” he mumbled, moving your panties aside and nimbly sliding his ring and middle finger into you.

You brought your face closer to his and grabbed his jaw, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss. It was still quiet around you, the only things you could hear were the birds and your moans, drowned out by your boyfriend's mouth.

His thumb moved to your clit, the touch was light, teasing, his fingers tracing slow circles that sent tingles up your spine. And his fingers didn't stop moving up and down, each time hitting the exact same spot. Rafe knew what the fuck he was doing, he always knew how to make you in heaven in a moment by his precise movements. He knew your body like no one else, just like you knew his.

“Cum for me, baby,” he said, moving his lips to your naked neck. You felt you were close - Rafe did the same, following the feeling as you pulsed on his fingers. You didn't have to wait long until your body shook with pleasant and familiar reflexes, and you came on his fingers, burying your head in his neck.

Rafe took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth, sucking on them. Oh this sight and Rafe in his damn tight blue polo, was something too strong for you to go through. You moved against his lap, letting him know that this was not what you wanted. “Still eager, huh?” he laughed throatily, but you didn't have to wait long. Rafe always knew what you needed and you got it right away. "You taste so good, baby"

“Rafe please,” you muttered, clasping your small hand over his large cock, which was getting harder and harder under you. “Anything for you,” he muttered, quickly getting rid of his pants.

Without much warning, he entered you. Slowly at first, because you knew very well that he was big. And even after so many times together, you continued to feel a slight discomfort at first. But Rafe always made it fit. He couldn't resist your tight pussy, which was even screaming for his attention. “Fuck, tight as ever,” he whispered, correcting himself on the couch so that you were more comfortable. “But don't worry, I'll make it fit.”

And as he said, so he did. With agility, he began to move inside you, making both of you nothing but moaning messes.

“Wait, I want,” you said, putting your hand on his chest. On that damn sexy polo. “Oh, a princess wants to take control?” he laughed under his breath, catching you under the thighs, but as if on cue he stopped moving inside you, making you feel again how big he was inside you. You groaned involuntarily, but didn't give in. You moved nimbly on top of him, practically taking him out of your pussy every now and then, and then lowering yourself all the way down again.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his head falling back against the couch, exposing the strong line of his throat. His eyes were hooded, his lips parted as he watched you, completely entranced by the way you were moving, the way you were making him feel.

You could tell he was trying to hold back, trying to let you set the pace, but the way his fingers flexed against your skin told you just how badly he wanted to take control.

“Not yet, Rafey,” you muttered, moving even closer to him. “You deserve the best. Especially, when you're in that slutty polo"

You increased your pace, but Rafe couldn't stand it anymore either, and came against you, entering your pussy from below. At that moment your bodies were merging at the perfect moments and places, so you were already not far from orgasm. And with that, he captured your lips again, his kiss rougher this time, more urgent. There was no more teasing now-just the raw, unfiltered need that always simmered between you both, threatening to spill over the edges.

“I'm so close,” you whispered into his mouth, clamping your pussy against him every so often. “I know, baby, I can feel it,” he muttered into your mouth, gently biting your lip to reach inside again. "Mmm, so good for me"

Rafe grabbed your buttocks and with even more force began to pound his cock into you. Your tongues fought for dominance, and your hands couldn't find room on his body, clamping down on the collars of his shirt.

"Shit" he murmured into your lips, feeling as his cum shot into your pussy, making quite a mess.

Not much later you too reach climax, clenching around his dick. Exhausted, you leaned on his shoulder kissing his neck. Rafe stroked your back, still calming down after the orgasm that hit you surprisingly hard this time. You felt him smiling over your shoulder, so you shared his happiness, smiling too. You moved your head off his shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes now. He was still inside you, so every movement, made quiet sighs come out of your throats.

“What's so funny?” you asked, stroking his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth gently.

“Maybe I should wear that tight polo more often, just to find yourself in your tight cunt again?” he laughed lightly, returning your kiss.

“Oh shut up, asshole,” you muttered, lowering yourself on top of him once more until he groaned and settled his head on the back of the couch, pulling you against him.

A/N: I know there's a lot of Rafe or Drew here lately, but I swear, when I see this man, I feel so ungodly that oh jesus, i hope you enjoyed this

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Brother's Best Friend - Part 14

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: swearing, a smidge of angst, and some good ol' fluff because that's what BBF is all about!

WC: 2900+

Part 1 | Masterlist

You look up as the door creaks open, your hand sweating against Jake’s palm. Your chest tightens and your head swims. Suddenly, your vision blurs.

…

You hear your name, but it’s muted, like someone is saying it underwater. You open your eyes and see two anxious faces hovering over you. You try to sit up, but your head is heavy and your limbs are weak and you’re disoriented because Jake and Bradley’s voices are getting louder and more overwhelming with every second. You want to tell them to be quiet but the words can’t seem to form in your mouth, or, rather, you’re far too exhausted to make the effort to speak.

Slowly, you sit up, blinking into your lap as Jake says something about an ambulance. You pass a hand over your brow, noting the sweat that’s gathered there, as Bradley starts listing off the various nutrient deficiencies that you may or may not possess. You glance up at the two of them feebly.

Both enormous, grown-ass men are crouched before you, staring at you in terror.

“What happened?” Jake asks and you blink at him slowly, wondering the same thing.

“Are you okay?” Bradley says, tilting his head to the side so he could catch your gaze.

You nod uncertainly, because you’re not a hundred percent sure that you are. You look around unhurriedly, taking in your surroundings. You’re on the porch of your house in a cute little dress, and the porchlight is on because it’s dark out. And then it hits you like a ton of bricks. You’re still on the porch. Has Bradley been informed of the relationship? Or did he already know? Was he angry? Did you get caught in the crossfire and get knocked out?

You blink anxiously – and more alertly – between Jake and Bradley, trying to assess the situation. Neither of them seems to be paying any attention to one another; only to you. “What…” you start, but your voice croaks and you bring a hand up to your throat self-consciously. You clear your throat and start again. “What’s going on?” you ask casually, as though you’re not sitting unsteadily on the ground with no recollection of the last god knows how many minutes.

Bradley’s eyes widen in outrage. “What’s going on is you fucking fainted!”

You look at him with soaring eyebrows. “I did?”

“Right before Bradley came out to take out the trash,” Jake says, giving you a meaningful look.

“Ohhh,” you reply, dragging out the word. “The trash.” You nod again, trying to organize all of the information in your presently scrambled brain. “The trash,” you repeat.

“It’s garbage day tomorrow,” Bradley clarifies.

“Right.” You rub your sweaty palms on your thighs. “Garbage day.”

“And then you just” – Bradley makes a motion with his arm to indicate that you toppled over like a tree might fall when it’s chopped down, and you eye him thoughtfully, doubting your collapse was that dramatic. “You're lucky Seresin was here to catch you. You could have cracked your head open on the concrete.”

You glance over at Jake who’s keeping an unusually straight face. “So lucky,” you mutter without a hint of sarcasm because you don’t think you’re quite capable of that just yet. Nonetheless, Jake throws you a pointed look.

“You’re home late,” Bradley says casually, but you could tell that he’s concerned. “Did you party a little too hard?”

You furrow your eyebrows at him. “Me?” you ask, amused that he’s the one asking you this question and not the other way around.

“Did you take something?” he asks. “Not judging,” he adds. “Just need to tell the ambulance what you’re on.”

Jake briefly drops his head into his hand, but recovers just as quickly. “I don’t think she’s on anything,” he says quietly.

You give Jake a sour look because the only thing you’re on is four vintage cocktails and an espresso, and he knows it.

Bradley sighs. “Where were you, anyway?” he asks. “That Jake had to go pick you up?”

You narrow your eyes at your brother and then at your boyfriend, who is expertly avoiding your gaze. Clearly, he’s decided that Bradley is not equipped to handle two calamities in the same evening. “I was on a date,” you state contemptuously.

Jake stares at you rigidly while Bradley cringes. “I'm guessing it didn’t end well?”

You press your lips together irritably. “You could say that.”

Jake rolls his eyes and stands up. “Ambulance is here,” he says just as the ambulance pulls up and two paramedics rush up your driveway.

“Fuck,” you mutter. “You guys actually called an ambulance?”

“We thought you died,” Jake replies curtly.

You look up at the back of his head as he waves over the medics. “Maybe check for a pulse next time,” you say, your ability to utilize sarcasm apparently restored.

…

After you are thoroughly checked out and given the okay to stay home for the night, you trudge tiredly to the living room couch, Jake and Bradley hot on your heels.

“You should go to bed,” Jake says as you plop down into the cushions. “You need to rest.”

You close your eyes, sinking further into the cushions with a groan. “I won’t make it,” you respond, feeling the exhaustion as if it were a physical thing weighing you down.

Bradley places his hands on his hips. “Jake’s right, you need to get some sleep.”

“I am,” you whisper, your eyelids heavier than they've ever been.

“I’ve got an early day,” Bradley says apprehensively, as though he doesn’t want to leave.

“Go on, I’ll stay with her,” Jake says.

Bradley waits a beat, considering the offer, and then turns to look at his friend. “Thanks, man.” Bradley replies, giving Jake a pat on the shoulder. “I appreciate it.”

Jake nods without looking him in the eye and, once Bradley is upstairs, he approaches you slowly. He takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch.

You open your eyes about halfway, watching him warily. “I don’t think it’s contagious,” you murmur.

Jake doesn’t laugh. Instead, he eyes you grimly from his corner of the couch.

“Why aren’t you talking?” you ask, getting a little nervous because Jake isn’t normally the quiet type.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes and then squeezes his eyes shut and brings his hands up to his face. He pulls in a lungful of air, and then another. And then he lets out a sob.

You open your eyes all the way and even lift your head up off the cushion slightly. “Are you crying?”

Jake inhales sharply again and then releases an unsteady breath. He rubs the moisture from his eyes away roughly and lets out another sigh. “You scared the shit out of me,” he mutters, his voice just barely above a whisper. His glistening eyes finally meet yours.

You stare at him. “Did you actually think I died?”

“I’ve never seen anybody faint before,” he admits.

“You’ve seen planes being shot out of the sky,” you remind him. Surely this can’t have been more traumatic than his job.

Jake gapes at you. “Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.”

You grimace. “Eww. You don’t have to be so graphic.”

Jake chuckles and sniffles. “I’ve never been more terrified in my life.”

You drop your gaze into your lap. “Is that why you didn’t tell him?”

Jake sighs and brings a fist to his mouth. “What would I say, Baby B? ‘Hey, by the way, I’m dating your sister and she’s so stressed out about it that she’s fallen unconscious on the doorstep?’ Sorry, bro?”

You pout sullenly. “That’s not why I passed out.”

“Are you sure?” he asks. “Because if I’m the reason –”

“You’re not the reason,” you assure him, although you’re fairly certain he hit the nail right on the head.

Jake releases another heavy sigh. “I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

You close your eyes and rest the back of your head on the cushion once more. “Okay, Seresin,” you respond calmly. “But, if you don’t, I will.”

Jake slides closer to you on the couch and puts his arm above your head. You lift it slightly so that he could tuck his arm underneath, and then you let him pull you in. Falling asleep in this kind of embrace is all you’ve ever wanted since you met him but, alas, this moment feels less than magical.

…

The following morning, you’re startled awake by an obnoxious grinding sound that gradually turns to a sort of whirring. Bradley is in the kitchen making his morning shake. You glance around the room because you’re alone on the couch.

“Is Jake gone?” you call out to your brother.

“Good morning to you too,” Bradley calls back and then walks into the living room holding two shakes. “Made you breakfast.”

You cringe at the green liquid in the glass. “I prefer to chew my food.”

“Well, you’re in luck then,” he says. “Because the blender’s busted so this might be a little chunky.”

You hold back a gag. “Thanks,” you croak, taking the glass from Bradley’s hand as he sits on the couch at your feet.

“Sleep well?” he asks, taking a large gulp of his shake.

“I think so,” you respond, propping yourself up on a throw pillow and taking a sip. “This isn’t so bad, actually.”

Bradley shoots you a self-satisfied look. “I put Nutella in yours.”

You smile at him. “Sorry for the scare.”

Bradley watches you silently for a moment before taking another swig of his breakfast. “I’m concerned, Y/N.”

You sit up straighter. “I’m fine now.”

Bradley shakes his head. “I’m talking about Jake.”

You blink at him innocently while your guts twist in on themselves with dread. “What about Jake?”

“Have you noticed anything off about him lately?” he asks.

“Uh.” You gulp, stalling. “Not really. Have you?”

Bradley sighs. “He’s just been sort of…I dunno. Weird.”

“How so?” you ask, even though you know exactly how so. No doubt Bradley has taken note of Jake’s sudden disinterest in women and it strikes him as odd, considering his history.

“That chick he was dating, remember the one we teased him about? I’m pretty sure he’s still with her,” he says.

You take a long sip of your drink before responding. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I’m not sure,” he says. “I just have a bad feeling about it.”

You glance up at him nervously. “Why?”

Bradley meets your gaze with a defeated expression. “She’s changing him.”

You are far too guilt-ridden to keep looking your brother in the eye, so you drop your gaze to instead study the puke-green color of your shake. “For the worse?” you ask quietly.

Bradley sighs. “I can’t tell.”

You bite your lip, trying not to frown too hard. “He shouldn’t have to change,” you say.

Bradley nods slowly. “That’s what I was thinking.” You swallow another chunky mouthful of your breakfast shake as Bradley rises from the couch. “You should get some more sleep,” he says. “I’ll see you after work.”

As Bradley shuffles about the kitchen, you contemplate your relationship with Jake, wondering if Bradley might be right. You fell for Jake long before he became boyfriend material and there are qualities about him you wouldn’t change for the world. But have there been things that you’ve tried to correct? Have you been unwittingly changing him? Shaping him into something he was never meant to be?

As you sit there in thought, Jake walks through the front door with a paper bag and a tray of coffees. “I brought breakfast!” he calls when Bradley peeks his head out of the kitchen.

“Thank god,” you mutter, setting down your half-drunk shake.

Bradley gives you a look. ���I heard that.”

You purse your lips to hide a grin. “I’m hungry!”

“I fed you!” Bradley exclaims.

“I’m hungry for real food, not plants,” you whine.

Jake enters the living room proudly. “Real food, coming right up,” he declares.

“Oh my god, I love you!” you exclaim.

Jake’s hand freezes in midair as he’s about to set down his offering on the coffee table. You meet his gaze in alarm, realizing what you’d just said. What you’d just admitted. Meanwhile, Bradley strolls into the living room, humming a tune, as oblivious as ever.

Your heart pounds in your chest as Jake slowly lowers the bag onto the table, his eyes still locked on yours. “I made you breakfast,” Bradley says, sticking his hand into the bag to retrieve a wrapped bagel. “But him, you love.” Bradley proceeds to unwrap his bagel. “I see how it is,” he says after taking a bite.

You swallow around a giant lump in your throat, suddenly not remotely hungry. “I…” you start, your voice wavering uncontrollably. “I… love food,” you conclude.

Bradley raises his eyebrows. “You were talking to the bagels?”

You notice Jake suck in his cheeks as he tries not to laugh.

You nod vehemently, feeling like you might just faint again. “Can you pass me one?” You reach your hand out, ignoring Jake’s face completely as he hands you a bagel.

“Alright, kids,” Bradley says. “I’m out.” He starts for the door but, just before leaving, he calls out, “Behave.”

The sound of the door closing behind him makes you severely nauseated, because it directly precedes the moment you have to face Jake. You glance up at him slowly as he digs his own bagel out of the bag. Finally, his eyes meet yours. “’Sup, Baby B?” he says nonchalantly, and you can tell that he’s prepared to overlook the slip if you are. For all he knows, it was a completely innocent statement and meant nothing at all.

But you know otherwise. And perhaps it’s the residual stress or the lack of sleep, or perhaps it’s the fear that your brother might be right about your influence over Jake, but you suddenly feel compelled to tell him. You suddenly feel like he has a right know. “I wasn’t talking to the bagels,” you blurt out.

Jake glances up at you in surprise. He gives you a small smile. “You don’t say,” he responds wryly.

You let out an impatient sigh, annoyed that he’s being so flippant. “I’m being serious.”

Jake nods. “Oh, I know. You were talking to the coffee, obviously.” He tries to hand you a cup.

“Jake!” you exclaim. “Stop being an idiot! I’m telling you I love you!”

Jake sets the cup down and blinks at you with a small, wonderstruck smile, like he can’t quite believe that you’ve said it again. “You mean it?” he asks.

You stare at him wide-eyed, alarmed that that’s all he’s got to say. But it’s not as if you can take it back now. You nod hesitantly.

Jake straightens his back and grimaces, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

You watch him in outrage. His reluctance to engage on account of your brother is no longer cute. You attempt to compose yourself, to hide the pain your face might otherwise betray. You rise from the couch in silence and begin to walk away.

“No” – Jake starts, catching you by the arm before you’ve even cleared the coffee table – “that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry.”

You yank your arm out of his grasp, but he just takes your waist instead. “Let go!” you shout, twisting away, and Jake immediately releases you, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Wait,” he pleads desperately.

“Wait for what?” you yell. “For you to finish freaking out?”

Jake looks like he might be on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“I wasn’t looking for you to say it back,” you declare. “But I admit that I was hoping for a more considerate acknowledgement.”

Jake takes a step toward you. “Can I touch you again?” he asks, holding his hands about six inches away from either of your arms.

“No,” you respond stubbornly, not looking him in the eye.

Jake sighs, bringing his hands up to his eyes and sliding them bleakly down his face. “Do you really think I would have ever done this if I wasn’t already in love with you?”

You glance up at him, still frowning. “Done what?” you ask quietly.

Jake furrows his eyebrows. “Can I please touch you?”

You press your lips together to keep them from quivering and nod your head.

Jake put his palms on either side of your face and takes another step toward you so that he could rest his forehead over yours. “I’m sorry I’m an idiot,” he says.

You let out a shallow sigh, wondering if perhaps you’ve overreacted. “You don’t have to apologize for being yourself,” you respond glumly.

Jake snorts. “Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, feeling your mouth stretch into a tiny smile despite your irritation.

Jake brushes his thumbs across your cheeks. “I loved you before I even realized I liked you.”

You meet his gaze skeptically. “That seems improbable.”

Jake grins. “Ever the romantic.”

You roll your eyes as his hands fall to your shoulders.

“I never would’ve gone there with you – kissed you, lied to Bradley” – Jake frowns slightly. “Never in a million years, Baby B. If I didn’t know without a shadow of a doubt that I was in love with you.”

You gaze up at him, justifiably speechless. The fact that he didn’t make a move until he was absolutely certain sets your heart aflutter. You squeeze yourself into him and mutter sheepishly, “So, you love me back, then?”

Jake chuckles and wraps his arms around you tightly. “You’re unbelievable,” he says. “Of course I fucking love you back.”

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[jenoslutie]

is it casual? l l.dh (m)

❥ Synopsis: Nothing about what you and Donghyuck had was casual. Nothing in the way he held you close at night, or the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear when your sweaty bodies are connected and your breaths are laboured, or even the way sex with him felt... too intimate. Nothing about it was casual. But Donghyuck always told you what you had was only casual.

❥ Genre: Toxic FWB!Donghyuck, smut, friends with benefits au, he is toxic.

❥ Warnings: toxicity, reader is a little dumb, explicit smut scenes, recording during sex (consensually), reader x chenle for a second, reader flirts with hyuck's cousin for a second, fucking while family is in the other room, car sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, i cant think of anything else tbh!!

❥ Word count: 3.3K

❥ a/n: hi guys :D i apologize if this is some hot garbage LMAO not my proudest fic (especially the rushed ass ending) BUT! i did want to get it done and over with soooo here you go. Hope you enjoy it!! :D

Nothing about what you and Donghyuck had was casual. 

Nothing in the way he held you close at night, or the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear when your sweaty bodies are connected and your breaths are labored, or the way sex with him felt too intimate. Nothing about it was casual. 

But Donghyuck always told you what you had was only casual. 

“Oh Y/N? We just fuck sometimes” A lie. The same lie he says every time his friends ask about the two of you. Not a single one of them believes him. Not Renjun, not Jaemin, not Jeno. Hell, not even Mark, his best friend, believed him. 

“You don’t just bring anyone around to meet your mother, Haechan” Mark stated, the rest of the group agreeing with him. 

Haechan groans in protest, rolling his eyes, leaving the rest of his roommates on the couch and heading over to his room. 

hyuck: hey  hyuck: come see me. i miss ur pussy. 

you: wtf?? you: where's the decorum?? what happened to hi?? hello?? how was your day?? 

hyuck: you can tell me all about that after i finally get my mouth on your pretty pussy hyuck: come over

And who were you to deny anything Donghyuck asked you? Because within 30 minutes you were outside his apartment, ringing his doorbell and waiting for him to let you in. The door opens and there stands Donghyuck in all his glory. Donghyuck is no doubt an attractive man. Well, he wasn’t just attractive. He was ethereal. You could tell he was carefully sculpted by God himself. 

Upon walking in, you were met by the disappointed faces of his four roommates. You gave them a small smile in greeting, your smile was not a genuine one, anyone could tell it was forced, as was their smile in return. The boys loved having you around but they knew the intentions of their friend. They knew he treated you like way more than a fuckbuddy but wanted less than even fuckbuddies. You were left with no option but to shift your eyes down in shame, you followed him to his all too familiar room. One that you’d been in more than you’d ever like to admit. 

And just like that, before you knew it, you were in Lee Donghyuck’s bed once again. 

“You know Donghyuck is just keeping you around to fuck right?” Chenle suddenly blurted out. You had to cancel on Donghyuck to meet up with Chenle for your little brunch date and to say the least, Donghyuck was not that happy about it. You’re ditching him? For another man? Though the other man was your best friend who had absolutely no feelings whatsoever for you (and vice versa), it was enough for you to have an almost hour long call with Donghyuck prior to meeting up with Chenle that was full of arguing and Donghyuck claiming you cannot ditch him for Chenle.

Which you did. 

Though it didn’t last long because right after you left the brunch spot, you found yourself driving over to none other than Donghyuck’s house.  

“I missed you you know” He all but cooed, letting yet another lie slip from his lips. He was always the one who went M.I.A  after everytime you hooked up until he wanted to hook up again. 

No response. 

“Baby?”

No response. 

“Cmon, Why do you avoid me so much hmm?” You? Avoid Him? 

“I don’t” you huffed, sitting up to pull your shirt over your head. “You’re the one who doesn’t give a fuck about me unless it involves my pussy” 

“That’s not true..” He countered, “I also give a fuck if it involves your tits, and that pretty mouth of yours” You rolled your eyes at him, choosing to ignore his comment. He didn’t urge you either, only pushing you onto your back and climbing on top of you. 

“You know you missed me, didn’t you?” As embarrassing as it was to admit, you did miss him. In the few days you tried to go no contact with him. It was near impossible to get him out of your thoughts. 

And here you were, giving yourself to him once again.

So much for ‘I only want you’ 

Your jaw dropped in shock watching Donghyuck sitting on the couch at a party with some random girl straddling him while the two of them made out like they practically needed each other to breathe. Which if it was the case, you wouldn't be surprised. 

“Didn’t he literally just tell me he only wants me when he was cumming inside of me yesterday?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t know that,” Chenle grimaced. 

“Well! That’s besides the point. The point is, he told me he only wants me now his tongue is down another girl’s throat!” You groaned in frustration. You don't think you’d ever understand his intentions. Sure the sex was good, you enjoyed Haechan’s company more than most people you know but still. You were sick of the mixed signals, did he want you or did he just want you naked and in his bed? Most likely the latter.  

Watching him make out with the girl with no care in the world for you, made a lightbulb spark inside your head. “Why don’t we kiss?” you suggest hopefully. 

And you dont think you’ve ever heard a more vile sound leave Chenle’s mouth before. 

“My lips are not touching yours. Who knows where they’ve been” You rolled your eyes at him, pursing your lips playfully. “You know my lips are clean, Chenle.” 

“I don’t know about that. But…okay, let’s do it” His tone was incredulous, like he didn’t believe your lips were clean? Where the fuck else would they be? Ignoring his backhanded comment., you dragged him closer to where Hyuck was, with the girl still on his lap. It’s almost like he had completely forgotten about you. You’ve been watching him kiss the girl like he kisses you, touch her like he touches you, whisper in her ear like he does to you when he’s telling you all the nasty things he wants to do to you and it makes you sick. 

Without thinking any further, you pull Chenle in by the collar of his dress shirt and he clutches your chin, pulling you closer to him, warm tongue slipping between your lips and exploring the warmth of your mouth. Fighting the urge to moan into Chenle’s mouth, you decided to run your fingers through his hair, tugging a little every so often. Chenle however wasn’t trying to hide anything, he was groaning into your mouth everytime you tugged on his hair. It was a kiss so intense, anyone would look at you and think you two are either hooking up or lovers. The two of you get too caught up in your kiss to notice Hyuck had stopped kissing the new girl and was now boring holes into both of your skulls.

If there's one person that got on his nerves it was Chenle, he hated the way the two of you were so close but told everyone you’re ‘only friends’. So much for ‘only friends’ when the two of you were basically down each other's throats now. The intensity of the kiss fogged both of your brains to the point you forgot the real reason you were kissing him in the first place. Too distracted to even notice Hyuck approach the two of you in the corner you were in, forcing Chenle off you. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Hyuck’s eyes were wide and full of rage, your jaw dropped, what the fuck did he mean? 

“Why are you kissing him?” His words came out bitter, venom laced in his tone. He was pissed at the sight of you with another man. As if he wasn’t under another woman less than a minute ago. You gave him nothing but silence. Not a smart option, you decide. You catch Chenle snickering out the corner of your eye, distancing himself from the scene. 

And that's how you found yourself in Hyuck’s car, your dress lost somewhere in the backseat minutes before Hyuck’s seat tipped back, and you climbed over the center console to sit on his face. Sure the position wasn’t the most comfortable but the way he was eating you out, like he’d lose his breath if he stopped, you were far from complaining. His tongue on you makes you see stars to the point you’d almost forget that the same tongue was down a different girl’s throat less than 30 minutes ago. 

“God, Hyuck you’re so good,” You cried, leaning all the way over to stabilize yourself by grabbing onto the headrest of the backseat. The man under you only hummed in response, sucking your clit harder, forcing another loud moan out from you. Before long, you feel your stomach tightening as your climax approaches, and you whimper in warning, Haechan, knowing your body too well, picking up on your cue immediately and diving into your core with an eagerness that has you seeing stars. With no more than a sharp suck at your clit, you’re climaxing with a loud cry, your body jerking before you attempt to curl in on yourself. 

“Fuck, can you ride me baby?” His voice came out strained, you obediently shimmied into Hyuck’s lap, and without thinking twice, you lined yourself up with his cock. He was clearly tired of the lack of attention on him that the second his tip had slid into your pussy he had pushed you all the way down onto him, forcing himself to fill you to the brink.

You cried out in surprise, a small stretch coursing through your body that Hyuck did not give you much time to adjust to. Immediately, he grabbed your hips and began to forcefully raise you up and down the length of his cock. You whined, your body writhing in pleasure and all you could do was keep your face buried in his neck as he forced you up and down on his cock. As much as you hated this situation you had going on with him, moments like this made you realize how hard it would be to let it go. 

Moments where he made you feel wanted. 

Moments where he made you feel desired. 

Those are what always got you coming back into his trap. 

You don’t know why the hell you agreed to it, but here you were, in Donghyuck’s parent’s house for Christmas. As much as you tried to not be in the spotlight, since you were a new face, you happened to be the center of attention tonight and it was overwhelming. And you realize you’re not even sure why he invited you to his family’s Christmas celebration. 

Watching his younger siblings run around you and ask all sorts of questions like “Why are you friends with my brother? You are too pretty for him!” The two gremlins, both resembling Donghyuck to the T, had been jumping all over you the whole night. You could see where Donghyuck got his personality from. His outgoing nature rooted from his father who might have been the life of the party, his everlasting need to argue about little things rooting from his mother, you could tell by the way you watched the two of them squabble all throughout the night. And obviously, all that chaos combined together and graced Donghyuck and his parents with who they call the two gremlins. 

Deciding to go on this trip back to his hometown was not an easy decision, him spending numerous nights convincing you that you’ll love it there. You remember one specific night where he whined and groaned over the phone about you declining the offer, “You’ll love them!” He offered. “Plus, It's not like you’re doing anything else on christmas! You just told me” It was pretty clear he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. And there was no way you could deny his offer at that point so you just sighed and agreed to go along. 

“You know, they like you alot more than I thought they would,” He mused. He’d been quietly observing his family’s every interaction with you and to say he was impressed was an understatement. His family was normally really inviting for all his friends, but this time, it was different?

 What he didn’t expect was his cousin, Beomgyu, to show up. He would be the first to admit that Beomgyu was attractive, there was no denying that. Growing up, Beomgyu would get all the girls and would outshine Donghyuck in all aspects. Which was one of the reasons why Donghyuck loathed him.  

Donghyuck gritted his teeth as he opened the door, “Beomgyu.” 

“Donghyuck.” His cousin smirked, stepping aside to greet the rest of the family. Donghyuck’s entire family was very fond of Beomgyu, they treated him as one of their own though they knew the hatred their actual son had towards him. What he did not expect more than the sudden appearance of his worst enemy was, the worst enemy in question to be flirting with you not even ten minutes into his arrival. But what pissed him off the most was the fact you were flirting back. 

Stupid fucking Beomgyu, always taking what he wants. 

Stupid fucking Beomgyu, always taking what’s his. 

He watched. Watched for so long while you sat at the dinner table and chatted it up with Beomgyu who was spilling compliment after compliment to you. 

hyuck: meet me in the bathroom. 

hyuck: now. 

In an instant, you were dismissing Beomgyu and following Donghyuck down the hall and into the nearest bathroom. 

“What the fuck was that?” He spat, pushing you up against the door. “You think you can just flirt with my fucking cousin?” He took a fistful of your hair, using it to tilt your head up, your lust filled eyes peering up at him innocently. “You don’t get to choose who I flirt with, Donghyuck.” he hated that stupid smirk on your lips, an hour with Beomgyu made you what? A brat? His eyebrows raised, sporting a smirk of his own at your bratty tone. 

“Okay. If you want to be a brat, I have a great way to put them in their place.” His grin was evil. Your own face dropping when he tugs on your hair again. “Tell me huh? You want to be put in your place while my fucking family is right there? Hearing every little noise of yours while I slut you out in this bathroom?” You shook your head no, “No! I swear, I’ll be good. Don’t want your parents to hear us!” You were given nothing but silence, followed by a dark chuckle from Donghyuck himself. 

“Yes, you do,” he teases. You only whined in response. “Like I give a fuck when you were out there moments away from slutting yourself out to that fucker.” He laughed sadistically when your only response was a whimper. 

‘You’re too easy’ He thought. 

“You know that you’re mine, right?” His tone was harsh. You quickly nodded your head ‘yes’, knowing that even a second’s delay would piss him off now. Instead of a direct response, like you wished, all you got was a chuckle and a little “Sure you are,” 

Donghyuck freed his cock from the confines of his pants and you bent forward, resting on your elbows, presenting your ass for him. “What a pretty girl.” He sucks in air, slapping his hand down on your ass. He aligns himself with your wet pussy, your fingers gripping onto the ceramic sink. He fills you completely, arching your back deeper to bury himself all the way inside you. 

“Taking me so well. It’s like you were made for me” he groans, pulling away to admire the way you take his thick cock. “You’re always so good for me, aren’t you, baby?” You moaned in response, thrusting back against him. 

“You wanna prove you’re mine?” 

“Please” 

You heard him shuffle around momentarily before he propped his phone up against the bathroom sink. The camera app was open and it was recording. “Go on,” He emphasized his words with a sharp thrust, “Say that you’re mine” You forced your eyes open and looked directly into the camera. “You’re mine forever, aren't you?” 

“I’m Yours, Donghyuck” You caught a glimpse at your reflection and you looked wrecked. Mascara started to run down your cheeks, hair knotted and a mess from the way he'd been pulling it earlier and your cheeks warm. You knew you couldn’t go back out to his family like this but that was the least of your concerns right now. All you could think of was Donghyuck and how he just hinted at forever. Forever with him.  

“I’m yours forever. All of me is yours, I'm all yours Hyuck.” You watched his smirk grow wider, his hips thrusting into you with far more intensity than before, enough to make your brain go blank. You’d lost all sense of where you were and why. No care in the world for your surroundings had you crying his name out loud. It seemed even he didn't care about how loud you were being because all he did was chuckle and trail his hands down to your core so he could toy with your swollen clit. 

“You’re mine forever? That’s what I like to hear.” He ended the video but the camera remained facing your wrecked figure. The more you stared at yourself, the ruined look on your face,the humiliation and the way he was smirking down at you so desperate to cum, made you closer to your release. And accompanied by Hyuck’s ministrations on your clit, you were cumming in no time, stars blotting your vision as your knees go weak. 

“I’m cumming—fuck—” Haechan grunts. hips pressing into yours as he buries himself deep in you and empties his load. You feel his length twitch inside of you. He gave you both a second to calm down before slowly pulling out, tucking himself back into his pants and helping you fix your clothes back into place. 

You relished in the thought that you’re Donghyuck’s. He’s yours. You hadn’t seen him since that night at his family’s house and you’d spoken to him maybe twice since. He told you he’s gonna be busy with work in the days upcoming so you decided not to bother him. 

Today was his rare day off and he told you he’d stop by to see you but its been three hours since he was supposed to be here and you’re still waiting to see him. He hasn't replied to your texts, answered your calls or even told you he was gonna be running late. You chose to occupy yourself by scrolling through Instagram while you waited. 

Immediately, the first story you saw was Mark’s. He’d posted pictures from a party with the text “crazy night last night”  You smiled to yourself as you clicked through his story, he posted a number of pictures and videos from that night however one specific video caught your attention.

Donghyuck in the back of it, his honey skin glimmering under the light. You watched the video intently, Donghyuck was kissing this girl with the same passion he kissed you with back on Christmas. 

So much for being busy. 

Immediately, you called his phone, surprised when he picked up on the first ring. 

“What is it, Y/N?” He sighed over the phone

“I saw the video, Donghyuck.” 

“Y/N. Remember our rules? We are nothing”

“But I-” You want to say something. Something out of pure rage and heartbreak. 

Before he cuts you off, “I don’t owe you anything, I do” 

“Fuck, all our rules, Hyuck. Fuck them all. All I want is you. In every way possible. Be mine. Please"

“Just– Move on,” And with that, he hung up the phone, leaving you there with a heavy heart and speechless. 

Guess it really was just casual. 

[shygirl4991]

Faker

Im going through a hard time this month with my cats health so thought i do a random vent fic enjoy.

Summary: They fake to make it, they both are lonely losers that manage to make the best of it. Sometimes a vent fight helps them find some peace from their trauma. Tag: Trauma bonding, crush hinted, SMG34, the gays are fighting

SMG4 yawns as he gets out of bed, the morning light shines hitting the man in the eyes. He squints as he closes the curtains, for once SMG4 got to bed at a decent time. With a proud smile the guardian leaves his room to get breakfast together, that's when he notices a purple blur pass by his window. He turns and sees a depressed looking SMG3, concerned for his partner he runs to his bedroom to put on his iconic overalls before heading to Three’s coffee n bombs. As he approaches the cafe, he catches SMG3 sitting at a table outside. With a bright smile Four greets the man “Hey three! How is everything going?” Three sighs as he glares at SMG4 “What do you want SMG4?” he spat out making SMG4 take a step back. It was clear as day that Three was not having a good day, he looked around and noticed not a single customer showed up. Frowning, Four nervously points it out “Still not having luck?” Three growls getting up from his seat “WHY DO YOU CARE?” The anger and hatred that came out made Four’s eyes go wide. 

He then lets out a sigh as he keeps talking to Three with a cheerful tone “We are friends Three, of course i would worry. Is there any way I can help you?” Three rolls his eyes walking to his cafe door “Why? To show you're better than me?”  Four shakes his head “No! Come on Three, we make a great team don't we…there is no need to push me away.” Three’s grip on the door handle tightens, every night since the usb garbage incident he has been haunted by an image of SMG4. He grins down at Three calling him pathetic, that he is nothing but a faker acting tough when he is nothing but a softy at heart. His grip lightens as he wonders if that version of Four had a point, shaking his head he pulls the door open. Seeing this Four runs after him, he grabs Three’s hand in concern “Three what is going on with you?”

Three turns smacking Four’s hand away “What's wrong?  Everything I do fails! No matter how hard I try to entertain people, everyone sees my content as cringe. I make the cafe of my dreams and no one comes due to…the owner being unlikable.” Four reaches out to comfort Three only for the other man to walk away from it, Four looks down thinking before giving the man a small smile “You have done successful things, you're super smart and figured out how to out smart so many of the villains we fight! Remember zero, how you pointed out how to save Mario!” Three lets out a bitter laugh “You mean the same monster that killed Terrence, yeah i really got a victory for us there.” 

Four starts to get upset at how the guardian kept brushing aside his attempts to comfort him, Three walks behind the counter looking at Four with annoyance. SMG4 walks up to the counter giving SMG3 a desperate “Let me help you out Three,” that got SMG3 to laugh “Help me? How fake can you be, ah yes help with my trauma as you ignore yours!” Four stare’s confused at his partner, Three places a cup in front of Four “You were an asshole to your best friend on his day, you got a keyboard that almost killed us all. Oh yeah, how about using my past against me to get everyone to come to your fucking Christmas party!” SMG4 stares, mouth agape at SMG3 words, slowly he smacks the table causing the cup to jump slightly “oh yeah? YOU ALMOST SHOT ME BECAUSE YOUR OLD VILLAIN FRIEND TOLD YOU TO!” SMG3 growls climbing the counter to be taller than the other man “YOU ALMOST DROP ME FOR THE PERFECT VIDEO!” Four grabs Three’s leg throwing him to the floor causing the cup to fall, shattering, Four was done playing nice with the man that clearly just wanted to fight “YOU THINK NO ONE CAN TELL BUT WE ALL KNOW YOUR THE FAKE!” Hearing those words angered the man, Three kicked Four’s leg causing him to lose balance and join him on the floor. SMG3 pins the man down growling “FAKE! AT LEAST I DON'T PRETEND IM A NICE PERSON THAT CAN DO NOT WRONG!” 

They both stay silent staring at each other, breathing heavily after all their yelling. Three lets go of Four as his eyes water “And yet…i still think you're my best friend..” Four sits up surprised to hear Three’s words, thinking over the pair’s past he lets out a small chuckle “Guess in the end, we both suck huh?” Three wipes his eyes giving a small smile “At least you can admit you suck, been telling you for years.” Four playfully smacks Three as they both giggle feeling better after their small fight. Three grabs Four’s hand shyly looking off to the side, hiding his blush “I’m frustrated that things don't go my way, I hate being second place…so I took my anger out on you.”  Four smiles and scoots closer to his partner resting his head on the man's shoulder as their fingers intertwine “I forgive you, plus your right…I fake being okay cause it's hard to face all I have done.”  Three hums as he turns looking Four in his eyes “Yeah well…we have our ways to cope just remember im always here for you.” They both smile softly at each other forgetting that the cafe was open, Meggy giggles seeing the sight. Meggy and Tari walk away from the cafe with a big smile “I think it's best if we let those to talk out their feelings Tari.” 

[sanctuaryroses]

Do you ever just look at a man, and you can feel the sexism coming out of his pores just by the way he looks at you, the way he holds himself, the way he interprets you and the words you say? Like, you dont need to talk politics with him at all to know. Its all over him. Its how much space he takes up, its the little side-jabs at his sisters, or female friends. Its the way his eyes widen in suprise if you tell him you have interests that take up braincells, its the way he fakes it and tries to hide his sexism when he tries to win your sympathy. Its so disgusting. I see men like this all over the place, and I .. just feel actually disgusted. I hate it even more when they think thats what makes them attractive, cause its.. more like the opposite. I hate men who are so convinced theyre the pinnacle of creation, but theyre more like the garbage that we want to get rid of, that somehow we cant.

[queenlua]

okay, wow, uhhhh, apparently my comment section Yearns for me to do some mean-spirited unfair goofy dunking, lol.

here's the Cliff's Notes version, as a compromise between What The People Desire and The Spirit Remaining Relatively Inert In Me. there's probably not much new here if you already saw me yell about Chambers and/or Mishima over on Dreamwidth, but here we go!

(for context, the only Chambers i've read is A Long Way to a Small Angry Planet (henceforth referred to as ALWtaSAP). i've read Mishima's entire Sea of Fertility tetralogy plus The Temple of the Golden Pavilion.)

((SPEAKING OF WHICH: this is Total Desperation Hours, but if anyone reading this has read the entirety of the Sea of Fertility tetralogy, SLIDE INTO MY DMs IMMEDIATELY, I WISH TO TALK TO YOU AT GREAT LENGTH. SPECIFICALLY I WISH TO TALK ABOUT KEIKO AND THE FUCKING CHRISTMAS PARTY IN BOOK 4. i have only ever met one other human who read the whole thing & it was at a mediocre taco bar & i was so overcome with ECSTASY and WONDERMENT at finally getting to talk about THAT FUCKING SCENE that i accidentally doused all my tacos in far too much hot sauce to be even remotely edible, but i ate them anyway because i didn't want the conversation to end, and i suffered so hard for that but. it was so worth it. ))

anyway.

the lazy handwave-y case for "ALWtaSAP is fascist actually":

the way the narrative treated Corbin in ALWtaSAP REALLY bothered me, right?

all the other crew members in the book have very Nice™ interpersonal skills, and would flawlessly succeed in any corporate Crucial Conversations training...

...whereas Corbin is kind of a dick, has rough edges, and would absolutely get reported to HR for generally having a bad attitude, etc...

...but the narrative treats this as, instead of an instance of Normal Human Variation... well, it's treated as a profound and intractable moral failing.

it's treated this way to the point where, when Corbin's life is in peril, the whole group makes it clear they're only rescuing him out of their own magnanimity, not because he's, y'know, a fucking human worthy of consideration. he *deserves* to get fucked over for the "being a clone" thing or whatever, and it's implied to be related to his garbage personality (even though his personality has absolutely nothing to do with his predicament!)

first off: gross! even if you don't accept my mean-spirited "let's link this back to fascism" argument, it still sucks bigtime.

but you're here for me to kick hornets' nests, so:

you know how, e.g. the recent film The Zone of Interest portrayed the nice "domestic" side of nazi official life? there's that whole "herrenvolk retaking the countryside" meme, right. certainly one of the most visible fash aesthetics is Violent Masculinity and Glorious Battle and what-the-fuck ever, but... "tradwives preserving Family Values in peaceful farm-y settings" is a pretty essential part of the whole ideology too. Hedwig is just as much as complicit as Rudolf. you could perhaps call this the "soft"/"femme" side of fascism. which is lazy and hand-wavy and reductionist but here we go

so okay, ALWtaSAP is the soft/femme side of fascism. the entire narrative is very DOMESTIC, but like, Zone of Interest was very domestic too, right. there's a very thin veneer of queer-friendliness over it—the interspecies relationships/gay characters/etc are in fact considered Totally Fine... but the narrative makes it SO clear if you're not Nice and Interpersonally Polite in exactly the correct ways, they actually do view you as a bad person.

and, like, fascist ideology absolutely has carve-outs for "this is fine if you do it in Exactly The Correct Way," right. like, Intense Homoeroticism Between Manly Dudes is certainly a thing in fascism, as we'll get to in a bit. which doesn't make fascism queer-friendly, obv, but it makes it friendly to someone who's queer in exactly the right kind of heavily circumscribed way and God Forbid You Step Off That Path Slightly Or Piss Off The Wrong Guy

(isn't it weird how the entire crew of that fucking ship, sans Corbin, never seems to display any real interpersonal unpleasantness? how convenient for all of them. how fucking convenient. wonder what would happen if any of them did do anything to fall outside the Tightly-Prescribed Ideal Of Domesticity. they replaced "make babies" with "be nice to found family" but whatever it has the same vibe)

anyway yeah, i think that's sort of fucked! (especially given that, y'know, plenty of Real Actual Queer People are in fact not nice in exactly the correct ways but that doesn't make them less people or someone you get to jettison, etc)

you could push back against this argument by pointing out that these attitudes—(interpersonal Niceness, broad tolerance for certain types of non-normative activity so long as they can be rendered Legible, etc)—are more neoliberal-y than fash-y in nature. and you'd probably be right! i'm not much of a theory girl, haha. i would have to actually read some literature instead of just vibes-ing it if i wanted to make this anything more than a particularly spicy Vice article. but this is just a spicy Vice article, so....

...though, come to think of it, let's further bolster the "actually it's fascism" case: remember that bit in ALWtaSAP where Corbin "cures" Ohan?

brief recap for those who (wisely) bleached this book from their memory: Ohan is an alien whose culture revolves around the "Whisper," a virus that exclusively infects Ohan's species. if you get infected by the Whisper, you get much-enhanced intelligence plus the ability to pilot spacecraft (via enhanced reactions/reflexes/Knowledge Of Complex Space-Math or something)... but your lifespan is also drastically reduced. Ohan likes being infected by a Whisper very much; he was given full knowledge of the virus's effects prior to being infected; he understands it reduces his lifespan but is still happy just the way he is.

so, near the end of the book, Corbin just... non-consensually administers the cure to Ohan & kills the virus? lmao?? and everyone yells at Corbin a bit, but also the narrative does seem to lowkey endorse this as The Correct Outcome; now Ohan will get to live much longer!!! everyone agrees that's Good and Correct, right!!! like sure there WAS a moral dilemma here, but we gave The Evil Action to our Designated Shitbag, so now all the Good characters can just enjoy the good results of his bad action.

again: this is a huge part of Ohan's species's culture! they have a whole religion built around this shit! and the narrative just kinda endorsed... y'know... robbing him of that? on the basis of bodily integrity/purity...?

you see where i'm going with this, right. You Know Who Else Is Obsessed With Bodily Integrity/Purity? that's right it's the fascists lol

anyway.

the argument for "Yukio Mishima is the Macho/Hard/Manly side of fascism"... i think that case writes itself lol? uhhhh, lmk if i need to spell that one out, because i sure CAN blather on about Mishima at exhausting length, but i'm pretty sure i don't need to lol. like, i love me some Spring Snow just as much as the next bitch, and i don't think "damn this dude was fashy as hell" is the only reading you can do (particularly wrt Spring Snow, it's really interesting to think of it as a reimagining of the Tale of Genji story with modern sensibilities, its relationship to 18th-century romanticism, etc), but like... dude does make it pretty incontrovertibly clear that Heroic Violent Action Is The Only Way To Save Your Nation And/Or Yourself, the aesthetics are very Sexy Murder Poet, the books' absolute contempt for fragility/age/weakness are pretty clear, in book 3 whenever he's writing a female character you desperately wish he'd just go back to the universe where Everyone Is A Dude And Also Very Gay For Each Other, because while that universe was obviously also sexist you at least didn't need to read whole passages about how much of a bitch Honda's wife is for *checks notes* having a kidney condition... uhhh i'm losing the plot here somewhat lol. let me know if i need to go pluck some books off the shelf

anyway @bogfox @radicarian @spiralingintocontrol @pretty-rage-machine @vintar @midori-verte , as requested, that's the Take lol

"the work of Becky Chambers and Yukio Mishima are two sides of the same fascist coin" is a Take that would be mean-spirited & kinda unfair & extremely goofy, but... i do think i could pull it off. if the spirit so moved me.

it might be too niche of a comparison to actually piss someone off, tho, & if i went to all the work of kicking the hornet's nest only to hear a faint buzz in return then what was the point

[edwinisms]

i get such a sense of primal envy when looking at edwin’s clothes up close because god you can just tell his coat is real wool and made to last and not cheap flimsy mass produced garbage and auggagghhhh that was just STANDARD in his time. by no means am i saying i was #borninthewronggeneration because i like having vaccines and household appliances but. man. to have a personally-tailored coat like that that’d last for years and years……. and fabrics of fine thread-dense quality………. if only

[opikiquu]

(disappears for a month and reappears with a slightly obscure hyperfixation) Hey guys

[starry-bi-sky]

I'm having incoherent thoughts about clone danny again from the clone/clone^2 au (when am I not?) but more specifically I'm thinking about his reaction to finding out he's a clone. The standalone clone au digs into that a little more than clone^2, which is more focused on Danny and Damian's relationship. But neither (so far) really get into Danny's issues about finding out he's a clone after 15 years of thinking he wasn't.

Because he resents his parents for not telling him for so long. He resents the way he found out; through a trivial school project rather than a sit-down talk. He resents the fact that, apparently, they had meant to tell him sooner. But forgot. He resents the fact that they never told him because finding out feels like something was stolen from him when it had the chance to not be.

Danny Fenton, just fifteen, cloned not even half a year ago, knows what that personal violation of autonomy feels like. He knows what it's like to be cloned and while he loves Ellie, he does, she's his sister, and in this au his twin. But he is still left with that feeling of unsafety after realizing he'd been cloned. Being cloned is violating. The onset realization that it's so easy to get DNA without the other party noticing, and that what was stopping someone from trying to clone him again?

Followed only after with the rest of the inexplainable mix of feelings of being cloned, the rest of that inner conflict and panic that's an ugly mocktail of emotions that range from horror to fear. Trying to imagine what it's like to be cloned from the cloned party, and I imagine that it leaves you with the feeling of needing to crawl out of your own skin with discomfort.

And then he gets put on the other side of it. Danny Fenton, only fifteen, was cloned not even half a year ago, finding out he is a clone. And reactions, I imagine, can vary from person to person. But to him, it feels like something got stolen from him, like someone took a hole puncher and stuck it right into his chest and stole a chunk of himself from him.

It changes nothing about him and yet it changes everything. It's a betrayal on it's own to just find out he was a clone and they didn't tell him for fifteen years -- it shouldn't mean anything, because he's still Danny, and yet it means everything. It's him, it's him, it's about him. It's his personhood. It's about the fact that a load-bearing rock in his identity just crumbled beneath his feet and now there's a rockslide.

Because then he finds out that they used the wrong DNA. Its like pouring salt in an open wound. He's not even related to his parents or his sister, when for years he thought he was. It's the fact that pieces of his identity that he's been so secure in for so long just got ripped away from him in an instant. Then they tell him -- only through his own horrified prompting -- that the person whose DNA they used -- Bruce Wayne -- didn't even know he existed. That they accidentally used the wrong DNA, then didn't tell the person whose DNA they used.

The betrayal of being lied to for years turns really quickly into horror at his own existence. Something very similar to the horror he felt at being cloned and the skin-crawling discomfort that made him feel like his own skin wasn't really his. And then its not. It's actually not. Nothing but his own name feels like it belongs to him anymore -- not his hair, not his eyes, not his heart or his lungs, nothing feels like his anymore and he didn't know what that felt like until it was gone.

It's a question of Nature Vs. Nurture -- where does the line of "nature" begin and where does the line of "nurture" end? What of him is actually his? What of him is Bruce Wayne's? It's not logical, it's not supposed to be. It's a load-bearing wall on the house of his identity being destroyed and now everything else is caving down in on him. What belongs to Danny, what belongs to Bruce Wayne?

[arospecsyourblockdudes]

Shang Qinghua is one of the SV characters I can most relate to purely in terms of also being a writer. I know that a lot of the stuff I want to write won’t end up being super popular (a romance with a purposefully unsexy vampire? a story between an m/f best friend pair with a really deep emotional bond and no romance? come on) and publishing is a nightmare anyway. But the difference is that I don’t plan to make a living off my writing. Poor SQH does. So if he wants to do fun things like pay his bills and eat food every day, he has to pander to the big audience.

He’s written other things that weren’t PIDW. Things that weren’t trashy stallion novels. Things he might’ve had a passion for and put his heart into. No dice. So PIDW it is and my god I can’t imagine how annoying and frustrating it is that the one work that you purposefully sold out on so you can, yknow, survive, is the only one that got big. It got really big. Really popular. That’s gotta be so fucking enraging. Imagine that, you think sitting down to write something you like is hard? Try to pump out a few thousand words of some crap you don’t even like every day, crap that you know had potential if following your actual ideas and plans for the characters would allow you to pay rent. Alas. The characters you lovingly crafted are watered down now. No one cares that you came up with a really compelling backstory for this one villain, he did bad things and he got murdered and that’s all anyone wanted to see. Not a real story, not something you put love into

In a way I think that’s partly why he and SQQ became friends. I’m a writer, we like feedback. We like to hear what people think of the things we write, even negative feedback can be appreciated. So if you have this one guy who reads everything, comments frequently, and (most important) can see how absolutely shitty this work of yours is? Someone that also sees the wasted potential of this story? Gotta be worth something.

[swan2swan]

I am actually so thankful for Oshamir because it's reminded me that...yes, I actually DO love me my Corruption Ships. My Nice Girl and Evil Guy ships. It's been years since I've been able to enjoy them, though, because there was one giant piece of garbage writing taking prominence.

[summer-sapphic]

Hi I'm mad

[tokyoteddywolf]

Urgh

I'm debating posting The Fic, the fixit for the Teal Mask arc of Pokémon Scarlet/Violet. I've already written a sort of self insert slash fix it for the main game, and I was working on the second part, the Kitakami first part.

See, the problem is the fact that me and the guy who edited/helped/has a main character in the story are... no longer friends, to put it plainly. Ended badly, too, which I regret, but not like there's much I can do about it.

So do I rename the character? Leave it to rot in my docs? Keep everything and finish and post it? I don't know. And I can't exactly ask him. Like I said. We ended it very badly, and I regret it some, but the damage is done with no way to fix it, so we shrug and move on with our lives.

But anyways, my main deal is I don't want to leave my lovely labor of love to stagnate in my Google docs. I want to finish and post it. I want to make the story mine again, since it was my idea in the first place. Regardless of dead rotting friendships still freshly murdered and cooling, burned bridges and all that.

I'm gonna leave a poll then, yall decide what I should do. But I do plan to finish that fic and post it to my AO3 account. Peace.

[starlightandmagic]

Listen, LISTEN, what makes Kanej such a compelling and unique ship is that they IN FACT don’t need skin on skin contact to love each other. They don’t need what other couples have to feel how they feel or to show their affection for each other. They have so much trauma and issues they have to deal with but that does not stop them from being willing to try to be together despite their struggles. They can barely hold hands but that does not erase the yearning and the love and devotion they so clearly feel for the other.

Kaz is willing to try to put himself together for her. He shows he cares by giving her everything she ever wanted: her freedom and her parents and a ship to hunt slavers.

And Inej canonically states she doesn’t think she could ever have a normal relationship with anybody else, she doesn’t want that, she’s not made for that life. What she wants is Kaz being willing to try to open up for her. The “I will have you without armor” is not about her wanting him to remove his gloves for her and give her physical affection. SHE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW IF SHE COULD EVEN HANDLE THAT.

What she wants is Kaz being willing to try for her. If she was going to make herself vulnerable and open her heart to a relationship with him she needs him to meet her in the middle. She knows what she deserves and she was not going to try if Kaz was going to give her nothing but his usual emotionally repressed self.

That’s it. It’s not about skin on skin contact, it’s not about Inej needing a man without trauma to fulfill physical needs she cannot even handle just yet because she was the victim of human trafficking and repeated SA in the Menagerie. And I DESPISE the writers for completely erasing that aspect and daring to imply something between Inej and Tolya. Tolya who canonically states he has no interest in romance, who literally says his books and his poetry are more than enough! That one writer with their stupid IG post, I swear they don’t have even the most basic understanding of these characters and what make them so unique and special. LITERALLY NO ONE ASKED FOR A LOVE TRIANGLE WHERE ITS NOT NEEDED STOP THAT SHIT RIGHT THIS INSTANT!

[thefinalinagirl]

I'm so not okay about how Spiral ended, because my mind keeps coming back to badly beaten up Schenk, escaping the factory, and I can't not imagine him going back to his small rented flat, where he just stumbling to the bathroom, sits on the floor, and coughs up blood. There's ringing in his ears, that's not going away, and he closes his eyes, because this darkness, this nothingness is somewhat comforting, and he just thinks about everything that happened, and everything sucks, but he knows: even though he's alone, he should keep going.

[whiskeyswifty]

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