#fuck up family relationships my beloved

[hotd-brainrot]

José Saramago, Cain

[magicaldreamfox1]

KINNPORSCHE ANNIVERSARY — WEEK 12: FAMILY

[guiltreservoir]

 as long as there is an ocean ✧ read on ao3

the abyssal plains of tommy's subconscious are littered with the carcasses of his father's favorite adages.

no matter how valiant his attempts have been to pry them free — and despite the meticulous, delicate nature of his methods — it seems that many of the sea-skeletons have been left sitting beyond salvation, now inextricable from waterlogged sediment. they're too far-sunk to extract safely; if lucky enough not to crumple like a sheet of discarded tissue paper on the journey down, he'd explode his lungs to red mist on the way back up to the surface. it's almost easier if he imagines them this way, as broken fragments of corpses too fragile to exhume:

the fleshy tissue of a half-eaten squid — actions speak louder than words. the crushed shell of an unfortunate lobster — beggars can't be choosers. the rotting remains of a clever eel — boys who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. the ribcage and spine of a starved shark — do as i say, not as i do.

one saying in particular has been mummifying for longer than the others, a giant humpback frozen in a state of watery decay, embalmed in the sandy gunk of his darkest trenches — keep your shoulders straight and your head on straighter. oft punctuated with a caustic, kid.

it's pretty ironic, considering the fact that tommy kinard has nary a straight bone in his body. maybe that's why the line burrowed itself so thoroughly into the deepest, slimiest crooks of the substrate of his mind, slow-growing algae coating the slippery crevices of his hippocampus to rankle him perpetually. tommy hasn't spoken directly with his old man in years; these days he couldn't if he wanted to, or at least not without a ouija board and an uncharacteristic flair for masochism, neither of which he cares to equip himself with.

nevertheless, the phantom whale fall of his father's most-reliable phrase continues to nourish the last hungry, lonely fish left scouring the ocean floor of tommy's mind. nearly every move he makes is centered around practicality, every decision sewn together by threads of vigilance and observation.

with nearly four decades of practice and application under his belt, he's gotten good at keeping his shoulders straight, and gay as he may be, he thinks his head's on just fine, although such would be a contradictory and controversial statement upon the ears of one thomas kinard, senior. thankfully he'll never have to hear it.

tommy can live with his own amendment to the man's words because tommy knows himself and therefore knows the truth. his posture is excellent and he's a considerably level-headed guy. he can't be straight; he doesn't want to be. what he can be is pragmatic. he can be logical, he can be useful, he can be rational. he can be quite capable and, as it turns out, even likable. he can be funny, and charming, and vulnerable with the right people. he can be queer, he can be gay, he can be loved, he can love. he can become without becoming unmoored.

for thirty-some good years, tommy kinard does a bang-up job at keeps his shoulders straight and his head on just fine. he's pushing forty when he meets evan buckley and eddie diaz.

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evan buckley and eddie diaz exist as a singular entity within the confines of tommy's skull. two sides of the same coin, grumbles the detached jaw of an imaginary anglerfish.

it takes some effort to extract one from the other, but tommy finds ways. over mutual interests in muay thai, basketball, and helicopters, he and eddie become fast friends. over mutual interests in each other's inquisitive minds, curious hands, and wanting mouths, he and evan become even faster lovers.

he makes out with one of them, roughhouses with the other; it all feels the same, gets identical synapses firing. he knocks eddie to the mat, steals spit-flecked exhales off of the inches of air near his wild-grinning lips and brings them home for buck to drink down, licking them into his ravenous mouth, delivering him secrets to unwittingly swallow. he smelts himself down to the base and seeps in between them, liquid copper in the nickel sandwich of their clad coin.

it isn't until tommy's got both of them sprawled out on his couch one night, months into his increasingly complex relationships with each of them, that he truly starts to grasp how evan and eddie might exist as a singular entity outside of his skull, too.

top gun's ending credits march, sans serif ants, to the glowing edge of tommy's television screen. fuzzy, synthetic white-blue haze pours into the room and across the skin of buck and eddie's limbs and faces in a manner that makes tommy think of marble hewn painstakingly into handsome statue, of rock tumbled smooth by a patient, perpetual stream, ever-flowing towards the sea.

tommy thinks, i could be a sculptor. i could be a river.

copper in the nickel.

the two men are draped across his sectional like lions in the sun, impenitent and unabashed in the way they take up space, in the way they take up each other. buck's legs are long, stretched out along multiple cushions, his head heavy on tommy's lap. eddie, on the opposite end of the couch from tommy, started out the evening upright, but the drone of the movie — combined with tommy's easy laughter and the literal and figurative warmth pouring off of buck — had helped to coax a more relaxed posture out of him. now he slouches deep into the pillows, legs spread wide to knock up against buck's bare feet where his sweatshorts ride up his quads. tommy almost expects the point of contact between the pair of them to spark, start a blaze that would surely incinerate the three of them in spite of their résumés.

his heart's been a tinderbox for long enough that he can usually recognize flint even when it's disguised as water; the thirst that parches him convinces him it's worth attempting a sip without regard of probable risk.

he lets out a long exhale and drops a hand to card through evan's hair, half-listens to eddie babble on about how the shots of the F14 fighter jets are still so cool all these years later. he's beaming like a kid the whole time, sunshine-ray of a smile gleaming straight at buck.

tommy watches as buck can't help but smile right back, and god, if the energy radiating off of them could be harnessed for physical usage, tommy would never have a utility bill again in his life. he watches, enraptured, as buck flexes and curls his toes against the soft dark hairs of eddie's thigh, pressing dents into his skin. watches as eddie presses back.

eddie falters in his warplane musings when buck's foot skids over and catches in the edge of his shorts.

buck says, "sorry," not convincingly.

eddie clears his throat and drags his gaze from the arch of buck's foot resting against his leg up buck's calf, to his knee, to where the exposed pale of his thigh disappears behind them hem of his shorts. he takes his time wandering up the rest of buck's body, lingering especially at the relaxed curve of his dick under loose cotton fabric, the relaxed curve of his gently parted lips. finally he meets buck's answering stare and blinks, languid, like he's searing something into his memory, buck-shaped sunspots in his retinas. he says, "no big deal," not convincingly.

before tommy's eyes, water transmutes into flint and back into water and over again, metamorphosing in a churning lazy whirl. it dizzies him, blurring his vision until there is no difference between the two; there's just a murky charcoal pool, molten obsidian shimmering like glass, rippling like the surface of an ocean less haunted than the one sloshing in his cerebrum.

an ocean glinting with the reflection of two incandescent stars careening towards each other at a devastating rate, a spectacle to behold.

relaxing his shoulders, tommy orders them to, "kiss," more certain than ever. when they hesitate, he adds, "each other," bracing himself for the likelihood of a stellar collision.

when eddie clambers on top of buck and leans down to crush their lips together, pushing his head down against tommy's thighs, pushing tommy out of his own, it feels more like the calm soar and twinkling glitter of a shooting star against the navy velvet sky, the soft crash of a wave against the edge of a silky coast.

there's no threat of unkind flame, no exploding celestial dust.

it feels like water.

tommy kneels at the sacred place where the luminous sea laps at the heavenly shoreline and drinks, and drinks, and drinks.

───────────────

drinks become shots become wandering hands in the generous backseat of a stranger's car, an obvious cocktail to use as a scapegoat for the hammering beneath tommy's breastbone. the depths of his mind bubble up with, trust your gut, not your heart.

he has mixed feelings about that one, but at present he's not sure he can trust any singular part of his corporeal form, so at least it half-applies.

hearts and guts aside, tommy is starkly aware that things between buck and eddie may be escalating a bit beyond his feasible reach. he'd come into the evening equipped with the knowledge that he's successfully constructed his own internal witch's cottage of cake shingles and sugared windowpanes in this questionable "date" night between the three of them, however mutually agreed upon the night may be. he's self-aware enough to understand that he's destined to walk himself straight back into it, naïve as hansel and gretel without the excuse of not knowing better.

he just hadn't realized how famished he's become, and how tempting his own makings would look.

with buck seated comfortably between himself and eddie, tommy has no real access to eddie outside of the smush of knuckles-on-upper-arm from the hand he's got slung around buck's shoulder. as per usual the concept of space does not seem to exist between the other men, and tommy's fingertips get wedged so tightly between their limbs that it feels like with just a little more effort, maybe they could do some damage. the sick, private, bourbon-drenched gutters of his mind surmise that maybe he'd let them.

he watches as they exchange a heated look and a hotter liplock, uncertain as to whether he'll ever get used to witnessing them like this. in the weeks following the fated night of their little home movie screening, tommy's been lucky enough to encourage and initiate several more exchanges of both kisses and conversation among the three of them.

"i... still want to be with you," evan had mumbled against his chest, as they laid in bed together the morning after their tag-team makeouts with eddie to the soundtrack of top gun's menu screen music on a muffled loop.

"i had hoped," was tommy's response. after a beat, "and eddie?"

buck had peered up at tommy, eyes so earnest and open and stupidly fucking blue. "yeah, yes, eddie," he'd said, almost apologetic. "i— i do want to be with eddie," like he had to.

"i know," tommy had told him, the organs in his abdomen heaving tumultuously. "it's okay, evan," he'd said, his heart a hummingbird fluttering frantic. like the idea wasn't sending his ribcage collapsing in on itself, he'd even managed, "i can leave whenever you're ready for me to go." he'd assumed all along that he was on borrowed time; couldn't be a beggar and a chooser.

buck, with love bursting forth from every single inch of his being, with more than enough to go around, had admitted to wanting tommy to stay, if tommy would be okay with it. he pitched the idea that they could talk to eddie, try this together, give it an honest shot.

tommy had flashed back to a childhood history lesson on the u.s. mint where he learned that certain coins aren't made in layers, but instead by melting all of the metals together to become a solitary slab. his copper edges fuse further into mirroring ponds of nickel.

three sides of the same coin, he'd thought to himself. imagine that.

"god, eddie," buck rasps now, voice low, clandestine enough to stay in the backseat. "want you so fuckin' bad."

eddie's answering, "jesus, buck, i— want you, too," honest and shameless, snaps tommy fully back into the present moment in perfect timing.

their rideshare driver whips into the driveway of tommy's house, personified stress wearing a thin windbreaker of customer service as he vocally ushers them out of the car — ahem, looks like we're here, have a pleasant rest of your evening, goodbye. as eddie and buck tumble out of the passenger's side rear door in a picture of resolute gracelessness, tommy, clutching stubbornly onto an ounce of awareness, pauses to give a rearview-mirror nod of thanks to the weary-eyed dude white-knuckling the steering wheel. he promises a significant gratuity for bearing with their shenanigans and lets himself out on the driver's side of the car.

while he steadies himself on his feet, gravel crackles under the wheels of the gratefully retreating sedan, headlight beams fading to shadow. tommy observes the silhouette of the inelegant, eight-limbed, two-headed harbinger-creature making its way to his home's front entrance in a clumsy tangle and waits for his innards to spike with fear, with reluctance. he meanders up the drive and overturns every stone lining the path to his warranted doom, expecting to find the tattered shreds of his decomposing clarity, or maybe a colony of vicious fire ants. all he finds is fertile, loamy earth, rife with potential.

he stumbles up his porch stairs and unlocks the door when he gets there, opening it for the lot of them to fall through together.

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together on tommy's mattress, buck and eddie writhe and moan and curse. they haven't been able to break apart since toppling out of the backseat. they kiss like it's the very thing keeping them alive.

from where he's snuggled up to buck's back, tommy's got a front row seat for the premiere screening of his most-likely demise. he can see the saliva bubblling on the edges of eddie's tongue as he smears it from buck's throat all the way to the cap of his shoulder, a glistening snail trail scattered through with blooming bruises he'd sucked into buck's skin minutes before. he can hear every wet catch of buck's breath in his throat, every soft grunt eddie lets out into against it, every exhale shared between them.

tommy's head spins, so god damn far from being on straight. he feels like a balloon released into the wind, miles above the cold and familiar waters of his deep-ocean, stranded somewhere in the high desert of his psyche. loose dry earth kicks up in a vortex around him, carried by the tempest of his culminating untended emotions. when the dust cloud settles enough for him to think, he recalls the term raison d'être.

it's french, that's why it sounds fancy, is what his father had said to teenage tommy, long before he'd cared to even attempt a grasp on the concept. he'd been moody, hormonal, and wildly, spitefully uninterested in all of the things the man he shared a name with held so dear. rolled his eyes at the gruff, translates to 'reason for being.'

"buck, buck, c'mon," is what eddie says as he scrabbles for a good grip on buck's shirt, taking fistfuls of fabric and wrenching it over buck's head in a frenzy. says, "come here," like buck isn't already melded into him, bare torsos flush, thighs slotted close. says, "come here," again, and it registers that eddie is calling for tommy, too.

tommy eyes snap onto eddie's across the naked curve of buck's shoulder to find them scalding. "fuck," he breathes out, "okay," like it's permission enough for all of them.

for now, it will suffice.

the skin stretched over buck's bulky trap muscle is tacky with eddie's spit when tommy sets his mouth against it, bursting salty-bitter on his tastebuds. buck whimpers into eddie's mouth and grinds his ass back against tommy's crotch; eddie's hips follow after them in a sinuous roll. into the blushing hollow of his ear tommy asks buck if he'd like to feel eddie inside of him, makes sure it's just loud enough for eddie to hear, too. he feels eddie's ankle hook around his own, overlapped with buck's.

"please, yes," urges buck, fervent and wanton, lust and liquor fraying the last threads of his hesitancy. "i've been wanting that."

"you have?" eddie asks, as tommy says, "he has."

"god." context aside, eddie's tone is reverent. he says it again, as though the word is synonymous with buck's name. then, like it's still a secret to himself, admits, "i've been wanting you, too."

buck groans and shifts, or maybe it's eddie — as tommy's faculties render off in the burn of both the top-shelf whiskey in his bloodstream and buck and eddie's immediate intimacy, it becomes progressively more challenging for him to distinguish the fine details. it all feels the same, gets identical synapses firing.

he tracks eddie's movements as he smooths a hand down buck's side, sure and attentive, as natural as breathing. when he keeps moving south to bump his fingertips up against the waistband of buck's jeans and the boxers beneath, buck's breath hitches, hips jerking. tommy tilts against them in pursuit.

eddie asks, "can i?" and it's double the approval he's seeking.

"yeah, eddie, please," buck begs again while tommy nods, delirious with overwhelm.

in an uncoordinated jumble, eddie gets buck flat on his back and makes himself a home between his open-lolling legs. right away his palms return to the broad planes of buck's chest, the curves of his strong stomach, the slight slants of his hips. he makes constellations out of kisses on buck's collarbone, his nipples, in the divot of his sternum.

it looks as close to worship as anything tommy's seen.

tommy wonders if it's worth telling eddie how he'd taken his time working evan open that morning, fucking him deep and thorough so he'd be easier for eddie to push inside of now. if it's worth telling eddie how he'd come, sudden and hard and so fucking good, from thinking about buck taking him so readily.

when eddie's devout, trembling fingers struggle to unclasp the button of buck's jeans, tommy decides to backburner the dirty talk. instead, he rests a hand on top of eddie's, gentle yet authoritative, and says, "let me help."

buck's hips lift for tommy's hands without second thought, making it simple to shuck the pants off of him as eddie shimmies out of his own. before he can even process the sight of evan buckley and eddie diaz naked, together, on his own mattress, tommy's met with twinning expectant gazes and understands that he's meant to strip, too.

"i—" thought i would stay on the sidelines, he tries to say. but as seconds pass under the scrutiny of the other men, the reluctance dies in his larynx, and he jostles around a bit until the denim of his pants is bunched down low enough to free his dick.

he's too preoccupied by the fact that he's got both objects of his affection directly in front of him, touching and loving on each other and spilling all of it onto him, to truly comprehend the magnitude of the moment. his head is so far into the atmosphere that he almost misses eddie say, "tell me what to do, tommy."

re-tethered to the earth by the string of eddie's voice, tommy doesn't miss buck's impatient, "aw, c'mon, eddie, just get in me." his desperate, "need you," is clear as day, clear as his afternoon sky irises, brighter against the rosy blush ruddying his cheekbones. he's always so damn pretty when he pleads.

tommy glimpses down at buck's dick, finds it stiff and pink and already leaking a mess onto his belly; he flicks across to the heft of eddie's where it rests heavy in the lax grip of his own hand. it's a beautiful cock, flushed dark and filled out, not quite as thick as tommy's but a nice, proportionate size. tommy knows buck will unfurl for him at once, a blossom to the morning sun.

meeting the bonfire of eddie's anticipative stare, tommy decides to say, "it won't take much, i got him ready for you this morning. right, baby?"

if buck could nod any more vigorously, he might snap his vertebrae. he adjusts the angle of his hips a little to make more of his ass visible, scoots onto a pillow so that he can prop himself up enough to get a better hold on eddie's waist.

"jeeesus," drawls eddie — a rare slip of his honeyed-rye texas lilt — and then, like he can't help it, "christ." his eyes rake down buck's body, idling on his twitching dick before trailing further, like he'll be able to find evidence: tommy was here.

that makes tommy smirk. he wishes he could keep his instructions ambiguous, left up for eddie's interpretation, something like he can handle whatever you're willing to give him. instead, mindful of the fact that this is largely uncharted territory for eddie, he suggests, "start with your fingers, you won't hurt him."

tommy's trusty bottle of nightstand lube is within convenient reach, making it no trouble to squeeze and slather some across eddie's fingers with a lewd jerk. a bit of extra coats the side of tommy's hand and he uses it to rub along the cleft of buck's ass, prompting a shiver out of him.

"there you go," tommy rumbles, "nice and wet."

the synchronous broken moan that the two let out when eddie finally finds the courage to nudge his fingers into buck is one that will most likely play like a broken-record loop within the walls of tommy's skull forever from this moment forward, for better or for worse.

buck promises, "i can take more," with the bleeding edge of a prayer still present in his tone. "i want more, want you, eddie, come on. it's alright, you can fuck me, you're not gonna break me."

eddie asks, "are you sure?" dually directed.

"never been more sure," buck affirms, as tommy says, "trust him, he knows his own limits," all the while knowing he can't make the same claim about himself.

regardless, he casts himself into the riptide, plummets into the undertow and captures buck's lips in a greedy kiss. he licks behind buck's teeth and drinks up his whines as eddie rides his dick along the slick valley of buck's asscheeks. before he even pushes inside, buck's making these fucking tiny wounded noises that make tommy's heart swell and cock throb.

when eddie lines up and sinks, at last, into the place inside of buck that tommy has come to learn and know and adore, buck breaks away from tommy's kiss with something close to a genuine sob. one of his hands finds one of tommy's, the other still firm on eddie's waist, keeping both of them close. he's got a leg hitched up over one of eddie's hips for better leverage, and his toes curl when eddie starts to move, shallow and slow.

eddie's name has never sounded better to tommy's ears than it does falling out of buck's lips now.

"buck." eddie's tone is reverent. he says it again, as though buck's name is synonymous with god, the two a singular entity within the confines of his skull.

tommy nearly has to look away from them, they blaze so brightly. evan buckley and eddie diaz, starfire contained in terrestrial form, crashing and combining and dazzlingly white-hot.

───────────────

white-hot aftershocks zap through tommy's nervous system as he sits at the edge of the mattress, back turned to the two other men. his fingers are gooey with spatters of buck's come mixed with his own, his softening dick sensitive and sticky as his entire body pulses from the dopamine spike of his orgasm. being a spectator to eddie and buck's otherworldly connection — and a helping hand in their ridiculously hot, intimate sex — has him feeling triply unmoored.

he's supposed to be getting them something hydrating to drink; he'd been the one to offer after eventually peeling himself free from the gordian knot of their bodies. evan always gets thirsty after, in particular when he gets a little teary from the pleasure overload, so tommy figures he could use a glass of cold water. they all could.

he tries to will his legs to stand; he finds his knees locked. impulse turns him inward and sweeps him cliffside on the tallest peak of his high desert mountain range. there, he can stand with his shoulders in repose and head in the clouds, squinting far into the distance where he can decipher the unmistakable expanse of an ocean that glints with the reflection of two incandescent stars careening towards each other at a devastating rate. a ghostly whale breaches the surface for a flash, a mere speck on the horizon from here, vanished before its presence totally registers.

his heavy eyelids flutter shut and he mulls, achingly, over the term raison d'être.

he can hear buck and eddie behind him exchanging lazy, smacking kisses and sweet murmured praises.

"you made that so good for me, thank you."

"mm, you were pretty fuckin' good yourself. now come kiss me some more."

the sounds and sentiments soak into tommy's soul like they're meant for him. his lips tingle as though the press of another mouth is against them; his ears warm as eddie waxes on about how fucking glorious that all felt. his heart swoops at evan's quiet, bashful laugh.

upon opening his eyes the fog in his line of sight clears, and even through a blur of unwanted tears he can clearly recognize that he is no longer in the desert but in the sacred place where the luminous sea laps at the heavenly shoreline. the call of the waves isn't far off at all — the surf is actually rippling at his toes, splashing at his knees and calves. he's been here since the night that eddie diaz kissed evan buckley in his lap, feet sunken into silt, warm tides rising and falling around him.

translates to 'reason for being.'

"come back to us, tommy," summons eddie, as evan's hands reach out and welcome him back down to their mess of rumpled sheets and sweaty limbs.

tommy thinks, i could be a river, and lets himself melt into the embrace of their current, stream into ocean, copper into nickel.

[void-tiger]

Trying to keep a lid on it but. Yeah. Literally don’t know what’s it like to NOT be platonically neglected IRL my whole damn life, only that I know this One Person doesn’t deserve to be at the epicenter of it anymore than I deserved to have been at the epicenter of theirs a year ago now.

…why am I like this. Why are we like this.

[morethanwonderful]

God Zhou Ying as a kid really is just. What if you were a child whose perception of reality was wildly different from every adult around you. What if you were constantly overwhelmed and overstimulated and focused on the "wrong" thing. What if you were always distracted by background details of the world that no one else ever noticed?

What if you were a child who sometimes dissociated from the reality around you? What if you regularly lost track of where you were and saw horrible things, and when you came back to yourself you were always scared and confused? And what if every adult that was supposed to take care of you was so scared by your dissociating that when you were at your most needy and helpless, all your caregivers fearfully ignored you and pretended they couldn't see what was happening?

Surely this is a situation that can only apply to someone magical.

[allthecastlesonclouds]

castles pls ramble about your wips /is there anything you're working on and/or excited to share????

omgggg yes i have been STRUGGLING this past two weeks because i. uh. sprained my right wrist (my dominant hand) and doing Anything At All hurts so i have SO MANY thoughts in my head and nothing's going to come out of it until i'm healed

fight or flight has been a really interesting fic for me to write specifically bc i. didn't grow up religious? my mom's atheist and my dad's catholic and i've never gone to church, but religion is really interesting to me, and the topic of fate and God is really intriguing. i like looking into faith and fate and learning about the different ways people see things, and i wanted to write a fic that felt. A Lot. like my dad's Catholic Childhood ExperienceTM and where he and his siblings are now in life, since all of them fell to different religions different ways and still keep in contact. i also wanted to touch on suburban family relationships in general bc goddamn those are fucked up.

fight or flight was originally going to be a lot more Kristen Vs Mac and Donna– the document title's still a pun based on that– but the more i thought about it the little it fit with her character: as much as kristen is bold, she's much more of a say something and run character– she doesn't quite know what'll happen after she says anything, does she? and she doesn't think before she speaks, so if anything goes wrong, she's likely to flee.

i've also started revamping my Coffe AU! it was, essentially, a modern coffeeshop au where different characters were in slightly different scenarios and the bad kids didn't quite become a friendgroup until after college, where adaine and ayda ran a coffee shop and the sig figs were Vibing and riz? worked five million jobs? and aelwyn actually gets therapy. the pacing of the fic was bad, though, and it was overall unrealistic, so i'm planning out a slightly different fic– they're all going to the same excessively large college, and keep meeting up at the coffee shop Ayda and Adaine run for said college. goldenhoard was the main villain in the first one; kalina was fully a housecat; cass didn't even EXIST because i wrote it before i got a dropout account and i only could watch up to ep3 of sophomore year! that's all changing, though; the gukgaks still have a cat named kalina but she Is Named After Someone

the "fic", if i ever get around to writing it, would be an actual longfic, written from one person's perspective, and a series of oneshots for a buncha other characters. the longfic was originally from adaine's perspective, but i might go fig this time around bc my girl adaine is Hard and i want the challenge of writing from the perspective of someone who isn't the Main Character of the story.

(also. coffe!aelwyn my beloved. she's trying so hard.)

i had a riz + mordred fic in the works, but since it seems mordred is going to be in jy a lot, that one's on hold until the season goes. i wanted to write it because the premise made me laugh: it was riz really sweetly bonding with different members of mordred and then him and zayn. awkwardly staring at each other as they realize their adaine's-best-friend title will never belong to either of them again and will forever be ayda's.

i wrote a drawtectives fic recently, which i know you're not in the fanbase for but i started a second one, from york's perspective, which cycles around rosé going back to college and york learning how The City is different and what family is to him (and also learning to cook bc grandma is the Only Competent One) AND i want to round out the trio, since the first was a rosé fic and this ones a york and so the third would be a grendan one, which is about getting york to his fashion shoots, i think? that one's a lot more up in the air, because. i want them to be Mostly Separate and so i want to see where york takes me.

and, in the drawtectives vein, i'm working on episode transcripts! pre-sprain, i could do 10 pages per hour, but now i'm down to 4-6, depending on the complexity. it's the only thing i don't struggle to do bc it's mostly writing names and correcting (or messing up) some grammar. i finished s1 on the... 18th? 19th? and i'm about 25 minutes into s2ep1 so. it's gonna take a while. but GOD i'm becoming a lore keeper for this. and also my vocal recognition for These Four People Specifically is. so good now. i can recognize their hums, it's insane.

and my friend (the most lovely and also basically inactive @mug-fullof-roses) and i are making plushies! just four drawtectives (the guys and also eugene), and we're still in the fabric buying but i think i'm going to try to find some good patterns over break because. clothing??? help??

and!! bringing it around again!! i've sketched out the dumbest comic for dance au bc something happened in my dance class that had me going "bad kids right here" the entire week. my hiphop teacher started playing that billie eilish song from the barbie movie, stared at the computer for a solid five seconds, then went 'sorry this isn't it' and tapped the computer once to change it to whatcha know bout me by nicki minaj. god. wild. love her dearly.

i have So Many Quotes from dance i might just make a danceau incorrect quotes post bc. we wild.

[riftwalker-limbro]

a take about something adjacent to this floated around yesterday but i didn't have the spoons to reblog it then and my brain generated this today so

happy that verica popped up completely irrelevant to any other plot i had going on. the romance between her & vince is just about the least focused thing in my story. which gives me the opportunity to be as silly with it as i like. and it gets on my ass about making her a fully fledged character bc these brainworms of mine suffer heavily from vince favouritism.

but i can already somewhat tell that she's probably gonna become pretty high up in the favourites ranking as well. as much as i have in common with vince on an interests level, there is more with verica, and the things i have in common with her i've explored through writing much less so far, so that's gonna be a Journey of (Self) Discovery again i'm sure. and the few character traits i have in stone for her are already looking pretty interesting too, again mostly to play well with vince's own, but i want to add more to make her more unique and alive still too.

mmm gonna be fun

[neon-angels-system]

I'm going to start biting :3

[ashenberry]

For your blorbos: apollo, TRUCY, jove, big man :3, the snakes from metal gear i cannot tell them apart i am so sorry, your ocs are all so blorbo to you as well but im on 30mg of weed gummy so i dont remember any of their names

God your so correct I do love all these characters an unnormal amount

[lesbianrobin]

honestly sometimes i miss s1 bratty little bitch buck. all bucks r my most beloved angel but i'm kinda obsessed with him. the way he started calling his boss pops + went to a bruce springsteen concert with him within a few months of meeting him. the way he stole an emergency vehicle from his job to fuck in it and he thought that wasn't a big deal. the way he asks random anonymous hookups out on dates. the way that he uses sex as both a form of self-harm and self-soothing. the way he immediately fell in love with the first milf who showed him attention. the way he wanted to hold off from making their relationship sexual in an attempt to heal but when he realized that he helped her feel sexy and he was Doing Something Good For Her he gave up on that. the way that he's kinda completely alone in the world like he hasn't had any contact with his family in years and doesn't have any close friends and instead of being wary or cautious he throws himself wholeheartedly into building relationships with the people around him. the way he tries to leapfrog every normal stage of developing a relationship with nicknames like "pops" or having sex with someone immediately or helping someone with major life events. and so many of these things haven't even necessarily changed about buck over the years but there's something almost frightening about s1 buck and his approach to life where he's so untethered that any strong breeze could sweep him away and he's incredibly aware of this so he's grasping at any tether he can find with no regard for whether it'll tear the skin from his palms or wrench his fingers from their joints. there's just something about s1 buck.

[thefabelmans2022]

.

[blackbyakko]

In Defense of Vanessa

All of the peeps hating on Vanessa and Wade ‘a relationship in Deadpool 3 need to expand their imaginations a bit lol.

Do you think Vanessa, the woman who fought so so hard to keep Wades spirits up when he got his cancer diagnosis, whose after fucking DYING in the second film told him that he had to continue on living and supported him to live a good life despite her not being in it, and upon seeing Wade after he ghosted her and then showed back up looking SOOOOO fugly (he’s adorably fugly) and her first reaction was to look lovingly into this man’s eyes and say “That is a face that I’d be happy to sit on”, would just simply LEAVE him? Just like that???

Y’all, I think we saw a different film lol.

Almost everyone in Wade’s life, has either belittled him, or have actively shown their distaste for him known at some point (Peter, Yukio, and Dopender my beloveds, we’re not talking about you). Vanessa from the get-go, matched Wade’s freak. When we saw Wade’s flashback of their break up, Vanessa never said that she wanted to break up with him. We heard HIM Say that if she wanted to leave him to get it over with already. One of Wades biggest character flaws throughout the film has been that he pushes people away through humor and through insults because he is terrified of being vulnerable with them. Vanessa is the only person throughout the films that, even when he’s hurt, he lets himself be vulnerable around her, even post break up. Vanessa didn’t want to leave him, she wanted him to be a better version of himself, because he was wallowing, and not allowing himself to look beyond his insecurities.

Sometimes, doing things for ourselves, for the sake of bettering ourselves is not enough motivation. Wade was not willing to pick himself up and try to live up to his potential until Vanessa encouraged him to. I don’t think she cared if he ever became an avenger or not, but what she cared about was that he had all this potential and no direction and she could see how it was eating him up inside. Why is everyone else in Wade’s life around allowed to rude to him and tell him straight up he’s being a fuckhead, but Vanessa telling him he needs to pick himself up when he takes a knee or asking him to let her walk with him, and when he refuses to do so, wnd gives him some distance when HE PUSHED HER AWAY, makes her the bad guy. You could tell it hurt her when he asked if she was seeing anyone. And that handhold? She absolutely took him back lol. And that’s good! Deadpool is not someone who would sacrifice a loved one to save the world, he would sacrifice the world to save a loved one. And Vanessa is the same, being ride or die from the beginning, and I will not hear her name besmirched.

Also are you really going to tell me that she saw fucking WOLVERINE and didn’t turn to her man and say, “We’re tag teaming him right?” Or that she saw a free child in X23 and didn’t turn to Wade and say “We wanted a kid, so we’re adopting her right?”

Use your imagination people lol. Vanessa would be the first person to drag Wolverine and X23 into their family. She gets a hot new husband and a kid, Wolverine gets a hot new wife and a husband, and X23 gets a new mom and two dads. Everyone wins!

[2hightocare]

MASTERLIST!

𖦹 collection of oneshots/drabbles/blurbs about my beloved jungkook…

⭑ I don’t take requests…

⌗click! ONESHOTS!

✷ SWEET NOTHINGS — You and Jungkook host thanksgiving dinner at your guys’ house, but Jungkook is head over heels in love with you.

✷ WHAT YOU NEED — Jungkook and you try getting into the Christmas spirit, but you end up getting fucked up against the kitchen counter.

✷ SATIVA — you ended up high and horny out of your mind at your guys’ families new years dinner party, your husband helps you out and takes you for a late night car quickie.

✷ ACQUAINTANCES — Jungkook and you can only stand each other whenever you guys are fucking, well that’s what you guys thought initially.

✷ IN A WORLD OF BOYS, HES A GENTLEMAN — in which jungkook makes you realize a perfect man may exist…

✷ PRINCESS TREATMENT — Jungkook simply does everything to make you happy..

✷ INFATUATED — The feeling of finding a person who makes your tummy do cartwheels everyday, no matter what the situation is..

✷ DOWN BAD! 02! — Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing.

⌗click! SERIES!

KEEPING UP WITH THE BANGTANS! click here!

LOVE WAGER! click here!

© no reposting/stealing/translating any of my works.. and please don’t copy any plot points and claiming them yours!

[celestiamour]

May I request a flirty Edmund x flustered fem reader? Like the reader is trying to tend to his wounds after a battle or something but Edmund keeps distracting her by trying to show off and making teasing comments? And could it be a non-established relationship?

umm, I know you said requests were open (and you have the right to write what you want anyways) but if you don't want to do this then feel free to ignore this :))

anyways thank you! have a great day<3

ft. edmund pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ edmund flirting while you tend to his wounds┊0.7k words

setting: unspecified narnian age contains: descriptions blood/injury & mentions of battle, ed is a cheesy menace, medical inaccuracies probably

➤ author's note: i made it a bit shorter than planned, but i hope it’s still okay and that you’ll enjoy!!

“oh, god, edmund!” your concerned voice was a bit louder than it was supposed to be upon the sight of one of your beloved kings being brought into the medical tent, prompting you to quickly apologize to everyone in there before rushing to his side. the battle was already over and victory had been named for your kingdom of narnia, so several soldiers injured from the aftermath were being brought to you for recovery (thankfully, there weren’t so many that the youngest queen needed to go running around healing them with her elixir). “i was really hoping not to see any royalty today…”

he seemed a bit paler than usual from blood loss, but he weakly smiled at you rushing to his side, “edmund, huh? whatever happened to you insisting on calling me by my title?”

“is that really what you’re focusing on?” you immediately started removing his armor and cutting away at the fabric of his sleeve that obscured the damage for examination. it looked like an arrowhead got lodged in his arm and the wooden shaft got broken off at some point, needing to be removed in order for you to progress. “stay still and count to ten.”

“i don’t need to count to ten when the ten is right in front of— fuck!!” he almost bit his tongue in the middle of his compliment when you took the opportunity to take out the piece of metal with a pair of tongs, swiftly tossing it on a tray then applying pressure and working your magic as you were trained to.

“stop being so cheeky and let me get you cleaned up!” you huffed, trying to focus on your work instead of his flirtatious advances. it was no secret to anyone with eyes and ears that edmund fancied you and has been trying to woo you for quite some time now, but it seems that the only thing preventing you from being officially courted by him was your own denial of your feelings. even if the royal family made it clear that they would marry for love rather than status, you would still deny with everything in you that he always manages to make you falter without fail.

“a-at least if i die, the last sight i see will be the most beautiful girl in existence by my side,” he joked before hissing at the stinging sensation of you cleaning his wound. it was nowhere near the worst pain he felt or the closest he’s ever been to death, but he thought it would be funny to exaggerate the agony to get you to pay more attention to him as if it wasn’t already all on him.

“don’t say that! it’s not even bad enough to be that much of a bother, just remember to wash the wound with alcohol and change the bandages every day.”

“so i guess that means i’ll be seeing you every day since none of my servants are professionals like you are? i’m a king, you know, so it would only be expected to have the best of the best look after me!”

“… fine, i guess i’ll see you around this time for the next week for so until you’re fully healed…” his stupid smile made you get all hot and you turned around so that he couldn’t see your face for your reaction, but the very action told him everything that he needed to know.

“so do you think you could also help me up then walk be back to the palace to announce our victory and our relationship?”

“you hurt your arm, not your legs, so you don’t need my help to go back! also, we aren’t even a couple yet, there’s nothing to announce!”

“not a couple yet? so you admit that we will be someday?”

“oh, you’re insufferable!”

his cheeks ached a bit from all the smiles and laughter, able to ignore the pain like it was a mere paper cut thanks to the amusement teasing you has brought him. the day you’ll be his and he’ll be yours (although he always was yours) is close, he could feel it— and he’ll gladly milk this minor injury as much as he can if it means bringing that moment closer to him by spending more time with you.

[yanderestarangel]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐌𝐊1 | "𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄?"

TW: dark themes, toxic relationship, physical aggression, afab anatomy, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, yandere themes, smut, nsfw.

｡˚☽˚｡⋆ SHANG TSUNG : You two met when he went to collect a debt from one of your neighbors in the small village where you lived with your family, he would ask if your neighbor was there, since he didn't answer the door, you would talk distractedly taking care of some flowers that I didn't know for sure, oh my, the wizard was already madly in love with you, he would ask for some water and then ask your name and then kiss the back of your hand leaving with some men. From then on, his life would be a real hell. He would research everything about you and your family, he would be the type who would first try to win you over like a normal person, but soon he would see that you didn't seem very interested in her, soon leading him to a plan B. - He would start threatening the owner of renting your house immediately increasing the monthly payment, leaving you and your family in complete despair, however, he appeared as a "great savior" giving the house to your family again, with one caveat, you would have to go out to dinner with he. Shang Tsung was very seductive, he would pick you up at home, dressed in beautiful gold and red royal attire, loose hair and extremely expensive perfume, he would know how to convince you to stay with him, telling you how lucky you were that he had bought your house, in no time you would be in his hands and with sweet words and some wine, he would be between your legs at the end of the night, fucking you hard and slapping your face.

You two start dating immediately, and it becomes hell in your life, Shang wouldn't let you go home anymore, you would practically live with him in his castle, all his henchmen from exoterra weren't even allowed to breathe near you, much less let you go out without him around. He would be busy with business but he would leave you beautiful and locked up in another shared house between the two of you - don't take him the wrong way, but he wouldn't feel comfortable leaving you in a house full of likely exits to run away and never come back to him again. -

He is well controlled, Shang really knows that you won't leave him, because in addition to having developed emotional dependence on you on purpose, he could kill your beloved family at any moment - perhaps he even did this before, so you could only have him, but just maybe- But every jealous crisis he has you will be fucked by her until you can no longer walk, he will sink into you without any mercy for your poor pussy, talking while he puts his dick in you with all his strength that you are a dirty slut who wants to give that pussy to anyone, and that only he can have your body and heart, whether you want it or not.

You wouldn't, like never, if you even dared to mention that you wanted to end the relationship you would see a family member of yours killed, by your boyfriend while he smiled insanely and asked if he heard what you meant to say correctly. He would also never break up with you, for him you are the only one in his life and will always be and if you try to run away he will find you and make your life hell, first of all you wouldn't even leave the exoterra, he literally has contact with You wouldn't even be able to get a ride to go as far as possible from exo terra and if you did, it would be one of contacts to pick you back up. You would soon realize that it wasn't the right way and you would panic seeing Shang Tsung just ahead waving happily to the driver. You would try to scream and then cry but there was nothing else you could do in that situation, he would take you home and soon he would have him by your side and kissing your neck, of course, with your wrist held by a pair of handcuffs on your wrist. At the head of the bed, he would lay his head on you, hugging you while your tears flowed : "-My love, you will never leave here, you will die here, whether you want it or not."

｡˚☽˚｡⋆ BI HAN : Please never have a relationship with this man, seriously darling, Bi Han is the type of man that you can't even breathe someone else's air and he will have a jealous crisis taking you both home - this man's crises are always happen with the two of you out - he wouldn't be shy and say that you were wearing too short clothes to go out and that's why you were at home - not because he was jealous because you simply smiled at the waiter after he gave you a drink - and After arriving home, the two of you would have extremely violent sex on Bi Han's part, he would record fucking your pussy from behind while pulling your hair - regardless of whether your hair was short or not, he is 6'1 tall, meaning he would reach your head calm down - and right after cumming inside you, his cum warmed your entrance recording the cum dripping from your pussy. He would also be extremely controlling with things related to your work, forget leaving the house after dating him, you only go out with him or if you are accompanied by a man he trusts from the Lin Kuei - Mainly Sektor - if he knows you left alone he would have an outbreak when he got home - let's say maybe, but just, maybe, he put a tracker on you, with the help of Sektor, specifically on your cell phone or maybe on yourself, this man is sick - and this outbreak it would generate an outcry from him, and you would only hear it silently, crying quietly, since the last time you raised your voice to him you left the mark of his hand on your face for 3 days. He's the type to punish you physically, he thinks you'll learn better from pain. Things like hitting you if you dare to raise your voice to him have become normal in his life, he also faithfully believes that hitting you is not wrong and will never apologize for the opposite, he will pretend nothing happened and have breakfast with you like a happy couple. Unlike the others on the list, there is no way not to notice the red flags in the relationship, you went into this knowing how problematic Bi Han was and thought you could change him in some way, you were mortally mistaken. If you tried to escape from your house he would find you in hell, the entire Lin Kuei would come after you, and deaths would happen because your dear boyfriend knows that you couldn't bear to see civilians dying because of you. Soon the grand master would see you come out of a small house in the village that you were hiding with your hands up, there were people looking at you shocked by everything and others dead on the ground as you passed, obviously all the witnesses would be neutralized. Bi Han hugged you tightly, placing kisses on your head as he carried you in his arms. "-I told you my love, you will never run away from me, you are my soulmate, have you forgotten? If you try to do something like that again, I swear I will slowly kill every person you love in this life."

｡˚☽˚｡⋆ JOHNNY CAGE: This man is a Labrador type, he is a cute man but when he wants to he can turn your life into hell. You met Johnny in one of his films, and he soon became very passionate and in a record amount of time you began to have a relationship, in the beginning it was always normal and respectful, but he has already shown some strange signs, like always asking what you smiled so much writing on your cell phone - which was ironic since he was always glued to his cell phone - which would generate a mini fight between the two of you with Johnny saying that he was afraid of losing you, that he couldn't live without you and that he would do anything To have you by his side, he's the type who will apologize for raising his voice in a fight but will try to justify why he did it. The man will go slowly, showing several red flags, such as expelling his friends from the house that was shared, saying that he had had enough of the noise and that he needed to rest from unlike your friends leaving a horrible atmosphere in the room. You looked at your boyfriend in disbelief as he opened the door and each of your friends came out awkwardly smiling in your direction, the argument between you would be heated with him calling you a slut in the process which would make the older man apologize soon after while you If you locked yourself in the bathroom, you would only make up when you left the room and saw Cage silently crying while looking at your photos. He really has problems with trust, he loves you and trusts you, but he can't say the same about his friends and the world in general, even with you being in his life for many years, he doesn't trust himself, you two would end up fucking with Johnny Cage beneath you talking about how he couldn't see his life without you, while you rode him and kissed him, the man's hips went in desperate rhythm as he saw the goddess that was you moaning on his dick, and oh my he could never lose you.

+ BONUS CHARACTER

｡˚☽˚｡⋆ KUAI LIANG : Kuai Liang is literally on the same level as Bi Han, seriously, maybe even worse. This man would lay eyes on you for the first time and soon become obsessed, in this context you would be a support soldier in the mission against Perseus, everything was supposed to be normal but you soon find yourself cornered by Kuai and his sick thoughts. The man wouldn't give you a choice, either you stay with him or you die, simple as that. He would first try to win you over by normal methods, like bringing flowers or inviting you to dinner and if you accepted, you would fall into his web of control. This relationship would be a prison, you couldn't leave this man's side and if you did it without authorization you would be punished, he would love to punish you with humiliation, making you suck his dick under the table while there is a very important meeting with the Lin Kuei or just you depriving you of wearing clothes at home, he would always, literally always, fuck you, the bastard knew how to break your mind, he knew how to have sex that made you cry while you trembled on his thick cock. During sex he would praise you saying how good you are for taking his dick so well in your pussy, you were already not feeling very well with everything that was happening, so a Stockholm syndrome bond was formed with the man, rightfully so. to you crying every time Kuai deprived you of contact. Well, I think that with all this there's no need to say how jealous he is, you're just his, it could have happened that a man who tried to buy you a drink turned up dead in some alley, he's not the type to hit you , but, he will do much worse things. You will never escape, forget that dear, he will put you in a house far away from everything and everyone with the security system high and to avoid the risk of an escape, so you just let the man take control of your life. Kuai Liang would arrive home and see you on the porch, sitting in a beautiful white flowy dress that showed off your cleavage all dressed up, you looked sadly at the forest landscape around you, life had already left your eyes, you were a soulless doll, Kuai's broken doll, he sat next to you, slowly placing you on his lap while running his hand through your soft hair, you were broken, Kuai Liang knew, but there was no going back.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2033

[seokgyuu]

The Sweetest Thing - Teaser

All your life you’ve been your sisters’ punching bag. Never good enough. Never fully accepted. When your mother makes one of them choose you as her maid of honor you reluctantly agree. Semi-vacationing in Tuscany with your ‘beloved’ family, you meet two handsome strangers one night and let them do whatever they want with you. Too bad you didn’t ask for their names first.

Pairing: Heeseung x F!Reader x Sunghoon 

Genre: Strangers to ???, Porn with Plot

Warnings: CHEATING!!! reader is hooking up with her sisters’ fiancés, sisters are horrible and suck, mentions of past verbal abuse, reader is somewhat a pervert (she defo is), heeseung & sunghoon definitely are perverts, heeseung & sunghoon are mean, they have nothing good to say about their fiancés, alcohol consumption, adult content MDNI! smut warnings will be in actual fic

Word Count: 5.7k (so far)

Release Date: August 8th

Taglist: @skzenhalove, @haelahoops, @deobitifull, @shiningnono, @jakeswifez, @slut4hee @gyuhanniescarat , @branchrkive @doublebunv , @capri-cuntz, @jaehyuniewifeu, @whateverhoon, @c-oupsie you can be added by replying to this post or sending me an ask <3 there must be an age indicator in your blog since this is a nsfw fic! 

Something about the Italian sky seems different. Maybe it’s because you’re not close to a big city, but the stars shine brighter than you’ve ever seen them. It feels like a movie; the stars and moon so visible with no cloud in sight, the small street of Arezzo you’re currently sitting in - a small restaurant with a small menu but a nice older man that speaks decent English. A glass of wine standing on the small table beside you and the first bit of peace you’ve felt in days. 

It’s when you take your next sip of wine you see them. 

Two men straight out of a magazine walking towards one of the free tables next to yours and sitting down. There is nothing you can do but stare. Both of them have dark hair, one of them a bit shorter than the other. They are dressed elegantly, designer shoes and pants, blazers hanging over their chairs. Even if you wanted to - you could not possibly say which one was more attractive. 

What a nice way to end a horrible day, you think. Smiling, you finish your glass and immediately order the next, not entirely used to drinking so much, but not caring since you are miles away from home and no one here knows you anyway. The waiter nods and then proceeds to go over to the newcomers. The one with the slightly lighter hair and the mole on his nose orders in perfect Italian, with just enough of an accent for you to know they aren’t from here. Your choice of table appears to be perfect for watching them, listening to them converse in a language you understand. 

And it all stays innocent like this - they talk about their flight and about friends - until suddenly the conversation sways.

“I honestly- fuck, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this, you know?” The one with shorter hair says and his friend sighs, taking his wine glass and finishing it in one go. Impressive. There was at least half left in yours. 

“I don’t know what to tell you. We committed and now we’re fucked.”

“Just that we aren’t getting actually fucked.”

They look at each other before they laugh, shaking their heads. Meanwhile, your ears perk up. 

“Fuck, I really don’t know the last time she let me hit it, Hoon. I think I’m going crazy.”

“Yeah, same here. Like, yeah, we fucked once the day before her flight. But literally only missionary and she didn’t suck me off.”

“Again? Dude, is she ever even putting her mouth on it?” 

“Nope. Ever since we got engaged she’s like this fucking prude. Is yours like that too?”

“Yeah. I got her flowers and her favorite chocolates and she still wouldn’t even jack me off, like fuck, if it’s gonna be like this forever I can just go cut my dick off.”

Jesus. These two seem to be in very happy relationships. Makes you almost feel better to not be in one. Even if your mother would beg to differ. She’s been desperate for you to find a match for ages. For whatever reason, really, considering her two golden girls were about to get married to rich and handsome heirs. 

“Just one good blowjob, man, that’s all I want, really. I miss getting some good fucking head.”

The way short hair looks at mole - with so much understanding and pity, you can’t help but chuckle. Chuckle loud enough for them to take notice. 

Their gazes burn on your face before you even see them. But when you do your smile dies and instead makes room for horror. They heard you laugh at them. Even worse, they know you’ve been listening. Shit. 

Thankfully, you are three glasses of delicious white wine in and the fourth one is almost empty. Which means you aren’t the sweet little wallflower you’d usually be. Scary, how alcohol can change people.

“Oh, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped.” You apologize, placing your hand over your heart. 

“Agreed.” Short hair says, his eyebrow raised. Now, with both of their eyes on you, it seems like they are even more attractive. Perfect faces with pretty eyes and soft looking hair. Handsome men in unhappy relationships that fail to give them what they need. It’s almost comical how the switch in your head turns over, how the persona you normally never let anyone see until you’re in a secluded space comes out and gives you the courage to speak your next words.

“I just couldn’t believe my ears,” you let your finger glide over the rim of your glass, eyes on the two men with your tongue slipping out to lick over your bottom lip, “how anyone would be opposed to having sex with you.” 

Oh.

Sunghoon and Heeseung’s ears perk up just like yours did earlier. Eyes widen slightly as they understand the innuendo in your words. 

They think about the same thing - the last time they took a girl together. Probably during senior year in college. Back then, they used to do that regularly. Having almost the identical type in women. Instead of having to let her choose, she’d get them both. 

But it’s been years since then. They are in committed relationships now, about to get married. And still - neither of them can deny that you fall right into their usual prey, or well, the prey they’d chosen back in college before their parents had picked out their wives for them. 

It’s the way you look at them, the way your eyes say so much more than your words. It is also the way both of them feel like they are 22 again with nothing but getting their dick wet on their minds. One thing about Heeseung and Sunghoon - they always worked perfectly in a pair. Back in college and now, too. They can almost read each other’s minds at this point, only a short exchange of looks needed to know neither of them gave a single fuck about anything right now.

“Want to sit down with us?” Sunghoon asks and points at the free chair opposite them. You smile. 

“It’d be my pleasure.”

header credit @wongyuseokie <3