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Hello again this is days 15-21, just have one week left of fish february :_[ anyways…SHARK WEEK!!!!!!

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openin’ the door to the microwave one second early because you don’t need all the hootin’ and hollerin’

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Commission Round-Up! 8/?

Hua Cheng Fire Emblem GBA-styled Portrait for @mild-pepper-spray I still have slots open for commissions if anyone is interested and would like portraits for their OC's or anything at all! DM or see the pinned post for more details!

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What's that poem about the cockroach and the moth where the cockroach is like "I wish I've ever wanted anything the way that moth wanted to burn itself up in that lantern" because we had to read that in high school and it still fucks me up to this day

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completely lirious and ranged. absolutely lusional. not only mented but fective, too. engaging in praved behavior. a real generate

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hellllllo! i loved lapping at the edges. i have a question: are you ever going to write vegas bottoming to pete?

Thanks for the ask, and I’m glad you enjoyed the fic, anon!

Actually, most of the pairs I wrote pre-VP were vers in my work. We’re not often given explicit canon preferences, and sexual roles only hold as much meaning as the people involved feel they should, so why not play around with it?

With VP specifically, I feel it��s a little trickier, because I think Vegas would initially conflate topping with control/dominance/masculinity. I would guess he’s mostly bottomed to men who wanted to assert their power over him, and also as a manipulative show of trust/sincerity with guys like Tawan (“Kinn wouldn’t let you do this to him, would he?”). From that perspective, “submitting” to bottom is a debasement, and untangling that feeling from the kind of sex Vegas has with Pete will take work—and probably also some frustration along the way.

 (mini-idea for how that might look:)

He doesn’t tell Pete what he’s about to do, the first time. He ties him down, and blindfolds him, and feels slightly better for having done so. Pete is very confused when Vegas rolls the condom onto him. Vegas enjoys watching his face as he sinks down—the shock and uncertainty, the furrow of his brow. He likes shredding Pete’s expectations.

He doesn’t like the pleasure in the arch of Pete’s back. Doesn’t like the flush in his cheeks or the breathless oh on his lips. Subconsciously, Vegas doesn’t want it to be good. He wants to treat it as something Pete is owed, and then wants to treat it like something he’s taking from Pete instead of giving to him.

It makes him cruel about it. A hand on Pete’s throat when Pete tries to speak. Teeth digging into his tongue, nails leaving furrows at odd angles with the scars on his chest.

Pete gets off anyway. Pete gets off, bright and gasping, and raises his shoulders after to offer a cradling space for Vegas’s head, and Vegas—blinks hard, and stares down at him, and then can’t. Something inside him chokes. He stumbles off the bed—swipes uselessly at the lube on his thighs—mumbles that he needs a glass of water—shuts the door behind him.

He leans against the kitchen sink for several listless minutes, glaring down the drain. There is an emptiness in his chest where the shame would normally roost, and he thinks his lungs might collapse without it there to hold his shape.

When he returns to the bedroom, Pete has worked his way out of the ropes on his wrists. He is a curled-up stillness and a tension, face pale against the dark of the blindfold. Worry smeared across his mouth.

The emptiness in Vegas is where Pete is meant to fit, so Vegas goes to him—shoves his face into Pete’s stomach, arms snaking under his back, and tries to make it comforting instead of suffocating.

It was shitty to leave him here. Probably the whole thing was shitty, whether Pete liked fucking him or not; probably Pete is some kind of pissed off and he just hasn’t said it yet; probably Pete is searching for the words to address what a fuck-up Vegas is without setting him off. Pete chose not to follow him into the kitchen, so maybe that’s the signal and Vegas should have left.

Or maybe Pete let him choose to return.

Pete’s hand grips his nape tight. Slowly, they remember how to breathe.

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The Magazine Quiz Conundrum (part 4)

The final entry, from a conversation with @lu-sn lu and @supernovasimplicity boots. part 1 | part 2 | part 3

While the compatibility quiz is bullshit, the answer patterns might be pointing at a bigger problem. Macau, being the world’s greatest philanthropist (read: just as nosy as all the Theerapanyakul boys), decides to play quiz arbiter for the next go-around

He quickly regrets this choice

“Right,” Macau says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do you like it sweet or spicy?”

“Spicy,” Pete says at once

“He means during sex.”

“Oh.” Pete pauses. “Skip.”

“You can’t skip questions, you’ll invalidate the results,” says Vegas, perhaps a little tetchily

I thought these quizzes were supposed to be bullshit? Pete carefully doesn’t say aloud. “Spicy-sweet?” he tries, cringing preemptively

Macau groans. “That’s not even—fuck it, I’m putting spicy. Moving on—”

“You didn’t let him answer, what if this is what fucking fails us—”

A spirited round of bickering ensues. Pete is forced to surreptitiously sidebar to let Vegas know that if they can’t pick both, Macau didn’t pick wrong

(Vegas, who just stealthily picked sweet: 😐)

“What do you think sweet means?” Pete whisper-hisses

“It’s—” Vegas glances sidelong at his brother, who is busily pretending not to listen at the other end of the counter. “All the things you like after.”

“Isn’t that spicy too?”

“It’s aftercare, aftercare can’t be spicy—”

“That’s like saying the rest of it can’t be sweet—”

“You think it’s fucking sweet when I—”

“I can go,” Macau offers

“No you can’t, we haven’t finished the fucking quiz—”

Pete’s brain finally loses its grip on his exasperated mouth. “Didn’t you say these quizzes were bullshit anyway?!”

“And what the fuck does it say about us if even the bullshit fucking quiz knows we’re not supposed to be together?” Vegas bursts out

The silence that follows is deafening

Macau knows when to make a graceful exit and does so

Pete stares at Vegas, mouth forming shapes that cannot escape his throat as words, for a while

Vegas, who is beginning to feel stupid, sneers. “Well?”

“…You think a bullshit quiz your cousin picked gets any say in this? You think what he sees in you fits me better than what you are?”

Vegas knows full well that Pete’s right. It doesn’t improve his mood any. “We can’t agree on the simplest questions without lying,” he says. “What do you think that means?”

“We didn’t agree on the simplest questions because we were lying. And anyway—” Pete’s ears grow hot. “You like it…sweet…afterwards, too. Right?”

Vegas can’t deny this, not least because Pete saying it does actually works wonders on his mood

“Why’d you say spicy, then,” he says anyway, not unlike a jilted spouse or an especially wet cat

“Because that part’s good too.” Pete releases a long, hard breath—but once he accepts that he must say it, he says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Vegas. All of it is good. Anything you do is good.”

It’s Vegas’s face that pinkens then, at the same time as his stomach lurches. “Not all of it.”

“It’s you. Isn’t that good enough?”

(They’re lucky Macau left the room, or he’d be gagging right about now)

Vegas frowns. “So what, you’ll just…choose whatever I choose, forever? Mold your preferences to mine?”

The way Vegas phrases this, it sounds like that would be a problem for him?

So Pete shuts down his instinctive yes and says, “We’ve molded each other, haven’t we? You own me. I go where you go.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Isn’t it?”

Vegas is his keeper. Vegas is the one who stripped him of his outsides and shaped his insides from their misshapenness. This is what Pete is—what they both are. If it does not fit glossy pages or clean answers…is it so wrong, to let it be?

The quiz sits abandoned on the kitchen counter, asking nobody in particular if they like their men strong or gentle

(They fuck at the counter. It is sweet and spicy and probably savory too, knowing them)

(Afterwards, they learn that magazine paper makes for a terrible come rag)

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Inside Out | Kinnporsche

Summary:

Pete and Vegas play around with drugs.

Notes:

Some clarification on the tags: the "nonconsensual consensual" and "dubious consent" refers to a situation where characters in an established relationship have discussed a possible scenario but not confirmed explicitly with each other, and a character goes ahead with the scenario anyway without informing the other party that he's doing so. There is also some oblique discussion of past date rape and non-consensual drugged sex/sexual assault. That being said: I had a lot of fun writing this! The title in my documents is "drug pete: the fic" which confused my beta ("shouldn't it be 'drugged pete?'") until I clarified that it was the imperative. My gratitude to said beta (@ameliarating) for editing. If you read this and go sickosmeme.jpg at it like I did, please let me know.

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what is THE worst thing you've ever drank. all liquids acceptable. please tell me what it was, bonus points for why

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Style the icon that you are

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just remembered that some people watched kinnporsche the series in its entirety, processed it, and moved on. they just.... Got Over It. wow

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hmmm. ok poll time just because i'm always curious what people's relationships to this topic are:

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REBLOG if you have amazing, talented WRITER friends.

Because I certainly do, and I love every single one of them and their work.

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Chapters: 1/4 Words: 2508 Rating: E Relationships: Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham/Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun, Macau Theerapanyakun & Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun

Summary: Vegas over-reacts following an argument about the dishwasher.

In this chapter:

There should be blood on the floor, Vegas thinks. He’d feel better for it—Vegas has tidied the consequences of arguments countless times, knows how to put his pieces back in presentable order almost by rote. This limbo can’t last. Something is coming. Something has to break, to punctuate all that anger. Shattered dishes, ringing ears, bruised skin. Life was miserably simpler, when Ba was around.

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Chapters: 1/4 Words: 2508 Rating: E Relationships: Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham/Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun, Macau Theerapanyakun & Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun

Summary: Vegas over-reacts following an argument about the dishwasher.

In this chapter:

There should be blood on the floor, Vegas thinks. He’d feel better for it—Vegas has tidied the consequences of arguments countless times, knows how to put his pieces back in presentable order almost by rote. This limbo can’t last. Something is coming. Something has to break, to punctuate all that anger. Shattered dishes, ringing ears, bruised skin. Life was miserably simpler, when Ba was around.

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have you ever had a genuine crush* on a mutual?

*(in this case, a “crush” could be romantic, queerplatonic, or any other form of intense attraction)