#the evil polycule ever

[birdb1tch]

thinking about how in freshman year coach daybreak quite literally tried to kill kristen to bring the apocalypse (AMONG MANY OTHER THINGS) and upon being told this her own parents turned their back on kristen and said (paraphrasing), “thats not true and you cant prove that.”

thinking about junior year where kristen’s parents SAY shes always welcome to come back anytime and in an effort to keep the peace she says “thank you, thats very kind” HER OWN PARENTS!! ITS NOT KIND, ITS THE BARE MINIMUM! but mac and donna will never see it that way, because to them they didnt fail kristen, she failed them.

ALSO thinking about adaine’s parents who so obviously had no real love for adaine until she had use as elven oracle. and even then it wasnt love, it was a power grab. parents who start a war and leave without you. parents who only cared about power to the extent that they would be angered by adaine revoking aelwyns diplomatic immunity.

arianwen who truly could not understand that adaine was talking about when she called her mother cruel, and angwyn who thought he could “fix” adaine BY CASTING LIGHTNING AT HER

anyway, big long post about the parallels between these specific Bad Parents (and literal bad parents)

[zephhhhh]

listen. sometimes you gotta draw the blorbos cosplaying the bad and highly questionable shoujo of your youth.

[ethanhuntfemmefatale]

oh do you guys even understand how i feel about this shot

[jabberwockprince]

dont let venimenot distract you from the fact that i still think forget me not had the worst fucking situationship with druvis (t4t gone wrong bc they realized theyre gay). stupid fucking snake keeps pulling bitches who are way out of his league and fumbling them horribly, as god intended

[fissions-chips]

is that the hand of judgement or the hand of mercy?

(evil polycule au- tw for blood, violence, and gun violence, as well as suicide-ish themes (vaguely implied in dialogue, not by POV character))

   Get off.

   Get away.

   Valentine’s voice was a sickening smear of noise in Jon’s ears, hard to be heard over the rising static- above him, the man could just barely make out the bright gleam of too-white teeth bared in a snarl, a smile. Was he being taunted? Mocked? It was too hard to tell. 

   The fingers around his throat twisted tighter, lifting him up and slamming him down. Jon’s head knocked back into the wall and his vision filled with a bright burst of red light. A choked shout tore its way from his throat and Valentine sneered, one hand moving to fumble for his face and stifle the sound at the root. 

   “-ou said you’d make this easy!”

   The other man’s snarl met him just as he did, fingers sliding over mouth and nose, and Jon balked away- pinned between the wall and Valentine himself, there was nowhere to go, and he found himself crushed to the floor again, back bent sharply by the space where it joined the wall. He couldn’t breathe. Weight settled heavy across his chest and Valentine leaned down, until Jon felt his own ribs creak- he tried to heave himself away, arms shaking, only to have his head slammed into the wall once more. I did, he thought. I did. 

   And yet, despite his words and despite Valentine’s fury, Jon scrambled blindly for something, anything that would get the other man off of him. His hands found nothing and fingers curled beneath his jaw once more, squeezing. 

   “Stupid son of a bitch-“ Valentine cursed as Jon clawed at his wrists, eyes stretched wide in terror- there was a darkness etched beneath them, carved by illness and misery. Jon’s breath rattled beneath his palms, ribcage sharp and stark below the white of his suit. He could feel the edge of Jon’s hipbone against his knee, the man somehow thinned further than even the last time he had seen him- Valentine knew that, truly, it was his own fault, and a savage little spark of victory crowed in the back of his mind.

   One hand rose from Jon’s throat to dig into his scalp, fingers dragging the man forward by the hair as he let out a strangled shout- other hand fumbling at the pistol tucked into his waistband, Valentine wrenched his head back. “Shut up.” He sneered, forcing Jon to meet his gaze. The man flinched at the venom he saw there, at the sight of his own wide, frightened eyes staring back at him in the pink-tinged mirror of tinted lenses. 

   Pathetic, he found himself thinking, and he shrank down further. He hardly recognized himself- thinned, trembling, all of the gold and gilt long gone from him. It had drawn too much attention, after everything- his hands shook too badly to put in his piercings now, too unsteady to fasten the narrow chains of gold around his neck. Look at you. A fucking joke.

   “Who…” Valentine panted, a quiet click echoing in the air as he pulled the gun from his belt. Jon froze. “Who are you even trying to call? No one’s here, Jon- it’s just you and me.” 

   Jon felt the press of cold metal against his stomach, the other man’s eyes narrowing slightly as he drank in the way Jon was shaking beneath him. “Everyone’s gone home… and who would come if they heard you now, anyways?” His sneer shifted, melted into an award-winning facade of smiling kindness- Jon knew that look, the malice behind it clear in the way the bruising barrel of the gun lifted, shoving itself against his sternum. 

   “Go on- tell me.”

   Jon’s mouth opened- he tried to force out some answer, tried to pull a name or face to his mind. There were none. Face falling from fright into one of dismay, he glanced left and right, thinking. 

   Valentine snickered. “Your poor secretary- your poor staff, to put up with the madman Jon Spiro and all his… delusion.” He shook his head. “I really do pity your board, having to clean up the mess you left at my headquarters that night- do you even attend their meetings anymore?” 

   No. Not anymore.

   “They finally gave you the boot, eh? At every party, you’re all alone, poor thing-“ The words were hissed, venomous. “I never see your face on television anymore, unless it’s news of you being a fucking asshole… or pitiful. Good riddance. You know, Carla called you a fucking alcoholic the other day, spat it out like something rotten- if only she knew!” 

   Stop it.

   “Broken, beaten, a fucking shell-“ Valentine punctuated each word with a sudden jab against Jon’s ribcage, the edge of the gun’s barrel sharp enough to bruise. “Where’d your supposed friends go, Jonny? That pretty blue-eyed fellow you whispered all your little secrets too, and that hulking pet of his… said they’d help you take me down, did they? Scare me away and make me leave you alone?” 

   Jon paled. Tim. The sharp-eyed, sinister man with the scar-marked face and a voice that didn’t match, too soft and creaking- the man who’d asked him for a smoke. A smoke, then a secret, some man in the North and what he knew of him- a man murdered and dumped in the Kola Bay, snow blowing around their feet as the boat dipped and rocked beneath them. Jon had told him because he was desperate, yes, for relief, and the way Tim had held his shaking hands between his own to warm them had been so gentle. He had just wanted… his attention. Anyone’s attention, without intent to mock or harm. Before Tim, Jon couldn’t recall a hand that had been reached out to him without beating him bloody, unless it had been across an office table. No one talked to him anymore, and he couldn’t find it in him to blame them.

   And Tim… Tim, despite his kindness, had proven to be one of the most fearsome men Jon had ever met. In his mind, he still saw the face of that Mafiya man as Tim had carved the flesh from his fingers, warmed metal until it had crackled and glowed only to douse it on any skin he could reach. Messy work. Grudge work. 

   Tim had set his sights on Chicago’s criminal underbelly, after that- and Jon had helped him. God, he was stupid. Something nauseous bubbled up in his stomach, beneath his fear and the pounding of his heart and skull. I’m such an idiot, he thought, because he knew it was a foolish thing to do- and because he knew if Tim asked him again, for names or numbers or where this man could be found, he’d tell him. He’d tell him anything at all. 

   Anything to be held in those hands again. 

   “Well,” Valentine continued, lifting his hand from Jon’s hair to sweep it back across his own, tidying the strands that were beginning to come loose- it didn’t disguise the near-manic glint in his eyes, the way his teeth bared as he spoke. “I’m almost tempted, to let you rot up here in your pretty penthouse all by yourself- but you just can’t take a hint, can you?” 

   Jon shrank back against the wall, the gun cold against his heaving chest- his heart was pounding so hard in his ears that he could barely hear the other. The width of his vision had narrowed, Valentine’s face a blurred smear of glinting teeth and glasses above his own. “Wh…what?” He choked out, wincing as Valentine leaned close and sneered. 

   “I told you, once, that I wasn’t going to kill you until you begged me for it.” 

   Despite the hatred glittering in his odd eyes, Valentine’s voice was airy, conversational- as if he was recalling a memory of poor weather, or a previous performance. Jon stilled. He remembered, too, hazy as it was. He hadn’t been clear-headed for a long time now.

   Shaking hands curled around the balcony railing, frost stinging beneath his fingers as Valentine had held him there, hand on the back of his head and forcing him to look down, down, down at the dizzying lights of the city far below. Threatening to throw him off. His feet lifted off the ground ever-so-slightly, vertigo snatching his breath away as the other had hissed into his ear. 

   “They wouldn’t think you fell.” 

   Valentine had tossed him away then, leaving him slumped against the glass door of the balcony as he’d strutted back inside, cool as could be.  Jon hadn’t moved for hours after that, sitting there shaking with his head in his hands, fighting a feeling he didn’t know how to name. Despair, yes, and terror. Blind, mind-numbing terror- and a little bit of something else too, something that had left him reeling in a haze. He had only moved to go inside when he realized that night had fallen.

   He felt that same feeling now, coiling like a snake in the pit of his stomach. Something hollow, sickening- his mind blanked, hands curling into fists until they ached. Something that pulled at him.

   “And I have tried,” Valentine continued, dragging Jon’s attention back to him with a hand slammed into the wall beside his head. “-to be patient, and just… nudge you in the right direction.” That same hand slid down in the edge of Jon’s vision, the man kept from further retreat by the touch of cold metal to his throat. There was a quiet tap against the plastic box clipped to his belt, pills rattling. 

   Suddenly, with a furious snarl, Valentine ripped it free and tossed it across the floor, Jon’s medicine scattering across the pale tile and carpeting with a clatter. Jon stared after them, shocked. A shiver ran down him at the sight of the little white tablets- the image blurred and Jon realized there were tears welling in his eyes.

   Oh.

   Lip curling, Valentine grabbed his jaw and wrenched in forward, Jon’s yelp of pain drowned by the other man’s voice, trembling with rage and much, much louder. “But… there is some stupid little part of you, Jon, that’s fucking- fucking stubborn! You stupid fuck! Don’t you get it?” He shook him like a rag doll. “We’d all be happier if you’d have just taken the fucking hint years ago and died already!”

   Jon’s eyes screwed shut as the other man’s teeth snapped, only inches from his face. The fury emanating from Valentine was overwhelming, and a strangled sob slipped from his mouth as Jon frantically clawed at the fingers digging into his jawbone. Pain splintered beneath his teeth, following the fault lines of decades-old injury, and even the gun rammed beneath his throat couldn’t stop his tears from falling. 

   “Do you like living like this?” The other man snarled. “Reduced to being some old-money upstart’s lackey, high and hooked on pills in a company building you don’t own anymore? The laughingstock of your peers and board, so utterly alone that you couldn’t name one person who will give a shit when I pull this trigger?”

   Please stop- just stop talking. It was too much, all of it was too much- Valentine’s fury and the gun pressed to his jaw and the horrible, horrible knowledge of what, exactly, had finally driven the other man over the edge. Jon’s pill box bumped the side of his hip and the rattle of it forced another sob from him. 

   When did you start to hate me this much? The other man had never loved him, Jon knew that much- even if he had chased after it regardless. He had never quite known how to stop. But certainly, at one point, they had passed for friends, passed for lovers- had all of this come from the break-in? Before? 

   “-‘m done waiting.” Valentine’s voice cut through his racing thoughts, the pistol lifting from his throat to suddenly, jarringly, press to his teeth. Jon’s heart froze in his chest, his balk of alarm halted by Valentine’s nails sinking into the flesh of his jaw. The other man’s eyes were cruel, near-manic with fury- and yet, his hands remained steady as he leaned forward and hissed. 

   “Now- open your fucking mouth, so I can do us both a favor.”

   Jon didn’t move. Jon couldn’t move. He couldn’t see the other man in front of him, could barely make out the words he spoke. Sight and sense and sound dissolved completely, and all Jon could make out was the cold steel pressed against his mouth, hard enough to hurt. It clicked, Valentine continuing to hiss something venomous and cruel into his ear- Jon stared down at the gleam of the metal. 

   His vision blurred, eyes stinging. 

   Please be quick. It was all he could think to beg for, in the moment. Please, please be painless. 

   Clk-

   “Enough.”

   Without warning, Jon found himself dragged forward as Valentine shrieked, wrenched away from the other man by an unseen force. The gun clattered to the floor, skittering out of reach as Jon froze against the ground, blinking down at the white tile between his fingers. Muffled curses and a heavy thump could be heard, followed by a sharp hiss of pain- the sound trickled into silence, drowned out by quiet, uneven footsteps, drawing nearer for a moment before they paused.

   A shadow was across him. A dark figure loomed in the corner of his blurring vision, one hand reaching out. Jon kept his eyes down to the floor, trembling. 

   There was a small nudge against his shoulder- the tip of an Oxford shoe, smudging the white fabric of his suit.

   “-on.” 

   He knew that voice, too-soft and creaking- Jon swallowed, trying to will himself to sink back on his knees and look up, rise to his feet, something. Something other than staring down at his own shaking hands with tears in his eyes. He couldn’t find the effort, however- the panicked, rabbit-fast racing of his heart was building in his chest, his breath beginning to catch in his throat as blind terror (and hurt, a hurt he couldn’t quite name and didn’t care to) threatened to overwhelm him completely. 

   “Jon?” 

   Tim’s voice was in his ear now, the man crouched at his side- head tilting slightly, his eyes narrowed further as Jon shuddered violently, sinking forward to huddle against the ground with a thin, hiccuping sound. For a moment, the newcomer said nothing, only watching as Jon began to sob again, frantic hands curling over his head to tangle into his hair, nails digging into his scalp as he lost the battle to pull himself back together. 

   Then, he turned his head. Ice-white eyes took in the scattered pills and upturned furniture, the mark against the wall where Jon’s head had been smacked into it. For the briefest of moments, something flickered in the edges of his otherwise-impassive face, a glimpse of some sinister emotion- then, the man stood, hands settling into his pockets as he turned on his heel, away from the other. 

   “You know,” he rasped, voice taking on a conversational note. His footsteps echoed eerily around the near-silent room. “I must applaud your deceptive nature- you really are a natural, aren’t you?” 

   “Oh, fuck you!” 

   Valentine’s voice cracked sharply as he spit the words out, struggling against the massive man currently pinning him to the ivory floor- blood was spurting from his nose, the tile smudged with red from where Butler, Tim’s bodyguard, had slammed him into it. It looked out-of-sorts, smearing down his handsome face to stain his teeth red. 

    Tim pondered this as he slowed to a stop in front of the two. “I like to believe I’m a perceptive man- very perceptive. And though I knew in an instant upon meeting you that you, like me, or like Jon, was nothing less than a wicked, wicked man… I must say, I never took you for such a…” He paused, head tilting slightly as he seemed to search for the word. 

   “A… bully. Yes, that’s it.” 

   Ghost-pale eyes narrowed as Tim quietly pulled a cigarette case from his pocket, taking one and lighting it. “Isn’t it beneath you?“ He muttered, taking a deep drag of smoke before blowing it in a fine jet towards the ceiling. His voice took on the slightest note of tension, a wire pulled taut. 

   “I told you, quite kindly, to leave Jon alone- that your games with him were over… and yet, here we are.” 

   “Oh, shut it, you pompous-ass bi-“ 

   There was the slightest twitch in the way Tim held his cigarette, a minute nod of his head, and Valentine’s voice cut off with a shriek as the air shook with a wet snap. The man thrashed, head knocking against the ground and teeth gritted in pain as Butler twisted his wrist further still, the crunch of bone evident as his fingers tightened. 

   Tim took another puff of smoke, letting it linger on his tongue for a moment as he dusted his cigarette over the other man’s head. Valentine hissed, muttering pained and muffled curses against the floor. His glasses had cracked, the lenses splintering further as Tim crouched down, plucking them from the other’s nose without a moment’s hesitation. Blood had flecked the pale-pink glass, and Tim idly began to clean them. 

   “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” 

  For a moment, Valentine only breathed against the floor, swallowing thickly as his lip twisted in a sneer. “Go… go fuck yourself, Timmy.” He spat, glaring up at the other with eyes full of hate. He blinked, eyes flickering to a point past Tim- the man watched as Valentine’s snarl faltered, before it sharpened into a bitter, mocking smile. 

   “Have fun fixing that fucking mess-“ 

   Another wordless gesture, another muffled screech as Tim’s shoe slammed into the other man’s skull, grinding it beneath his heel as a flicker of frightening, violent rage ghosted over his face. Then, just like that, it was gone, and his features fell back into the same impassive expression as before, the man jamming his cigarette between his teeth as he stepped away, turning his head. Behind him, the glasses clattered to the ground, lenses shattering completely as they met the tile.

   Jon was pressed against the wall, shivering violently. His hands were still fisted in his hair, head hidden behind his knees as his shoulders shook with hiccuping sobs. As Tim’s shadow fell across him, he flinched, huddling further upon himself as he shrank away from the hand offered to him. 

   “Jon?” Tim tried again- his tone was still sharpened, and Jon shuddered as his fingers brushed the white fabric of his suit. They drifted upwards, curling beneath the man’s jaw even as he forced his voice to soften, low and soothing. 

   “Oh, Jon…” Forcing Jon to meet his eye, Tim was relieved to see a flicker of recognition there, the man stilling under his hand as he pulled him closer. Gently, Tim ran his thumb along the edge of his cheek, wiping the tears away. “No, no, none of that now. There’s no need for such an unsightly thing, my dear. You’re safe.” 

    Trembling, the man blinked up at him with wide, bloodshot eyes, hands fumbling to find purchase, clinging to him with shaking fingers. It had been weeks since they had last been able to meet properly, Tim too busy with preparations to arrange it- fury bubbled up in the pit of his stomach at the sight of Jon so ragged, and he forced himself to swallow it down for fear of frightening Jon further. He had always been a skittish man, worn thin and stressed- now, he seemed to be sick with it. 

   “He… I-“ Jon’s voice broke off into a choked sound as the edge of Tim’s thumb brushed a soon-to-be-bruise along his cheekbone. He didn’t flinch away, under the touch, but Tim saw a flicker of fright in his eyes, there and then gone. Swallowing, the man’s mouth opened, closed- Jon’s eyes drifted past Tim’s shoulder, only to widen at the sight of Valentine, wrist twisted at a sickening angle and with the man struggling violently beneath Butler’s hands. 

   He paled. 

   “Tim… Tim, wait-“ Jon’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening against the fabric of Tim’s jacket as he clung to him, heedless to the way the other’s eyes widened in shock at the sudden panic in his voice. “Val, he…” 

   After everything he’s done to you, you still call him by a nickname? It was saddening, really, to see a former criminal behave in such a manner. Tim’s brow furrowed. 

   Enough of this. 

   The hand around his jaw shook him slightly, Jon’s mouth snapping shut as he found himself forced to meet Tim’s eyes once again. They were stony, cold- nonetheless, his voice was still soft and his touch still gentle as he murmured. 

   “It’s out of your hands now, Jon.”  

   The fingers curled into his jacket slipped, and Tim caught Jon’s hand with his own, the other keeping his gaze fixed on the man in front of him, not the one struggling far behind. “But-“ Jon cut himself off just as Tim spoke again- this time, there was a note of command somewhere in his voice, soft as it was. He was a man used to being obeyed. 

   “Jon, my dear,” he repeated. “It’s not up to you anymore.”

   The man blinked. He was still trembling under Tim’s hands- idly, the man gave the fingers intertwined with his own a small squeeze, in as comforting a gesture as he could manage. Slowly, Jon’s mouth closed- he looked back at Valentine. Back to Tim. 

   Then, without a word, he turned his eyes to the floor. 

   For a moment, neither moved- then, with a sigh, Tim forced himself upright, unsteady on his bad leg after crouching for so long. Automatically, Jon’s hands moved to steady him as he went- a small gesture, but one Tim appreciated nonetheless. He pulled the other up after him, Jon staggering as his feet met the floor. Pills clattered away from them across the tile, and Tim’s lip curled slightly. What a mess, all of this. 

   Before Jon could look up again, and see what was about to befall his enemy, Tim grabbed his hand tightly and began, slowly, to walk, leading the other out of the room. Jon, to his credit, followed without complaint, his head bowed and eyes wide and empty, staring down at the floor. 

   As they walked through the doorway, Tim paused, lifting a hand. Knowing Butler’s eyes were on him, he gestured again, a snapping sort of motion- then, hurriedly, he pushed Jon through the door and closed it behind him. It wasn’t quite fast enough, however, to miss the undeniable snap of bone, and he felt Jon shudder beneath his hand. 

   Under most circumstances, Tim would not have settled for something so quick, but Jon had been through enough for one evening- Tim would not stain the floors of his home further with blood. 

   Our home, now, he mused.

   “Come.” Pulling Jon past the bedroom and into the bathroom, Tim flicked on the lights and steered Jon to the edge of the tub, waiting until he sat down to pull his hands away. Jon didn’t lift his head- that same shivering persisted, fingertips trembling as they dug into the white fabric of his trousers, the man struggling not to shake himself apart entirely. 

   “Jon?” 

   There was no answer. The other seemed hardly to have heard him, wide eyes fixed to the floor- he flinched violently when Tim’s hand brushed his shoulder, breath hitching in his chest. 

   Tim blinked. “You’ve got blood in your hair.” He spoke, simply- without waiting for permission or comment, he pulled a rag from the nearby counter and dampened it in the sink. “I don’t see any grievous wound, however. You’ll live.” 

   He received no answer for that, either.

   When Jon finally spoke again, it had been almost an hour- Tim had cleaned the blood from his hair with careful hands, had combed and dried it. He, too, had said nothing, content to simply focus on the task at hand- shrugging Jon out of his coat, checking him over for further injury. Save for some nasty bruising, there wasn’t much to find, but he clicked his tongue all the same at the state of the other’s health. 

   “…Are you going to kill me?” 

   Jon’s voice was hoarse, cracking sharply- Tim startled, brow furrowing as he took in what the other had said.

   “Hm? Oh- no, Jon, I don’t plan to kill you.” Initially sharp with shock, his voice softened again, quiet. One hand continuing to run itself through Jon’s hair, he looked in the mirror opposite them- Jon did the same. His face had a hollow cast to it, utterly exhausted- still, he was no longer trembling, and his gaze didn’t waver when it met Tim’s reflection, eyes narrowing slightly. “What makes you think otherwise?” 

   “If you’re here…” Jon muttered. He paused, visibly turning something over in his head. “Then that means you’ve finished whatever it was you were doing- and what you were doing was making arrangements with Fission Chips, or at least attempting to. Putting yourself on top.” When Tim’s eyes widened further in surprise, Jon sniffed. 

   “I’m… tired. I’m tired, and I’m not involved with much anymore, but I’m not blind, Tim.” After pausing again, eyes closing for a moment, Jon continued- his head fell into his hands as he spoke. 

   “Which means you don’t need me anymore, because you know now that I’ve got no say in any of it. I can’t help you.” 

   He didn’t sound particularly upset- he sounded like it was expected, though Tim didn’t miss the note of disappointment there. “I…” He began, before taking a moment to sort out his words himself. 

   “I have no intention of killing you, Jon. Like you said, you have no say in things overall- so what would be the point?” Shaking his head slightly, he resumed working his fingers through Jon’s hair- despite his doubts, the man hadn’t moved to lean away from him. Instead, Tim felt himself press back into the touch. “I’m many things- many, awful things, Jon, but I’m not a liar. I told you I’d help you, and I fully intend to see to it that you’re kept comfortable and content, whatever that may look like. I don’t need your help, it’s true… but I do like your company. You’re a clever man, no matter what that stupid fuck out there was telling you.” 

   Jon stiffened slightly beneath his hands, and Tim sensed that he’d struck a nerve. Sighing, he nodded to their reflections in the mirror- Jon’s head lifted, fixing him once more with that same hollow stare. “Fission Chips needs someone running it,” he continued. “And your board is a incompetent pain in the ass. That will all be dealt with- but don’t assume that your lack of say now means you won’t have any in the future. This isn’t an overthrow- there’s no one to supersede. I’m merely filling an empty seat… that doesn’t mean I’ll ignore your input on matters, if you’re willing to give it- I’ve never run a company such as this before.”

   If he had been expecting some sort of reaction, a flicker of interest or excitement in Jon’s features as he watched himself in the mirror, watched as the other lifted his hands from his hair to settle against his shoulders, thumbs pressing gentle circles between the blades, then Tim would have been disappointed. Tim, however, was unsurprised when Jon merely closed his eyes, exhaustion emanating from him in waves, seeping out from the day he’d had- and at the prospect Tim was offering. 

   He doesn’t believe me, Tim mused. Or he doesn’t much care at the moment. He could hardly blame him- he and Butler had only arrived moments before interrupting the attempted shooting, but he had heard enough to shock him, and spark his fury. A decent night’s rest will do more for him right now than I ever could. 

   Tim wasn’t lying. He did feel some affection for Jon, somewhere deep down inside of himself, where the soft, gentle creature he had almost become still lived. As much as he cared for Butler, Tim had grown too used to having someone at his arm, someone he could look after. Jon was desperate for good attention, and in his moments of rare energy or impulse, his chatterbox nature and the sly, scheming criminal he was once known for came out. Tim wanted to see more of it. 

   Besides- he was useful. He was clever. He had managed to track down a very secretive man in the far north, and helped Tim get his vengeance on that same man, even as he’d stood on the deck of the ship outside, hands over his ears as Britva screamed and screamed. To return to Tim’s side again after witnessing such violence was no small thing.

   Tilting his head, Tim continued. “Regardless of all feelings on the matter, you’re in no state to return to your former position right now, Jon. And I think you know that. In fact, I think it’s not really what you want at all- so perhaps, in the meantime, you could direct your attention to anything else you happen to desire, and I’ll see what I can do.” 

   There was a rap against Jon’s shoulder, the man looking up to find Tim pulling away from him, gesturing towards the door. “Though…” He paused, eyes sharpening slightly as the other man slowly forced himself upright to follow. “I know such words mean little to you right now. It’s late- you should get some rest, if you can. We can discuss further matters in the morning. I won’t be far.” 

   As his hand lingered on the bedroom door, however, he froze. Jon blinked back at him tiredly, one hand reaching up to scrub at his cheek where the tear tracks had dried. Tim saw his lip curl slightly in disgust- disgust with himself or the inconvenience, Tim did not know, and he felt that same fury at the Phonetix CEO spark up again. 

   “And… don’t go into the sitting room. Thank you.”

[quietwingsinthesky]

Thinking about Sam & Dean canon soulmates. Thinking about Sam & Lucifer MFEO.

Thinking about Lucifer deciding that if Sam is his other half, and Dean is Sam’s matching pair, that makes Dean as much his as Dean is Sam’s.

[essektheylyss]

The real problem with doing rewrites and edits is that every time the pressure to Not Fuck It Up increases, and oh boy is it HARD.

[naivety]

the way clarke brought out the heart in lexa and the head in bellamy

[insult-the-glory]

"It's just... those first two years, we were chasing the idea of being together, rather than actually being together. I got to know Filip better than I ever got to know you: staying up past curfew, stealing lamb chops from the Supper Hall, or even just sitting on a rooftop and talking—you know, about our families or what we're afraid of or what kind of pie we like. Doesn't matter how it all turned out, really... He was my first real friend."

—Soman Chainani, The Last Ever After, p 18-19

...

"I think about her too."

[Agatha] turned and saw Tedros at the window, watching her, his mouth trembling. "About how we just left her," he rasped, eyes welling. "I know she's a bad friend, I know she's Evil, I know Filip was a lie... but we just left her... with that monster. We left all of them. The whole school... just to save ourselves. What kind of prince is that, Agatha? What would my father think of me?"

—Soman Chainani, The Last Ever After, p 33

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: Accidentally Falling For a Fae Prince - Malleus Draconia x reader

When you get dragged into a novel which ends with the heroine in a polycule with the most annoying men in literature, you decide that you're gonna skip town. ...Only to trip over the fae prince, Malleus Draconia.

Series Masterlist

Work’s been a disaster from the moment you stepped in. Your boss, who makes dollar bills while you’re lucky to scrape together a few dimes, is in one of those moods. So, instead of pretending to be productive, you do what any rational person would do: you pull up a random webnovel website and let the ridiculousness wash over you.

And oh boy, is it ridiculous.

You start reading "The Villainess's Revenge: My Heart is Colder Than Lukewarm Tea!" and, within the first chapter, you realize it’s like watching cement dry—but with less plot development. The villainess is cartoonishly evil, stomping around in ballgowns with a sneer so exaggerated it’s a wonder her face hasn’t permanently locked in place. Her tragic backstory? She once got served lukewarm tea. And, oh no, she stepped in mud at a ball. The horror. Riveting stuff, truly.

Meanwhile, the heroine? She’s clearly phoning it in. Every scene she’s in, her eyes are dead inside like she’s as exhausted as you are by the sheer nonsense of the plot. If this girl could quit her own story, she would’ve done it yesterday. You can't help but mentally send her your condolences.

Then, there’s the male leads. If you can even call them that.

First, the Crown Prince, whose idea of a crisis is a fashion faux pas. This guy once canceled a whole wedding because his socks didn’t match. His spirals into existential crises every time a thread is out of place would be entertaining if it weren’t so tragic. The way he’s written, you swear he could kill a man with a critical stare over improper cufflinks.

Next up, the Duke. Brooding, romantic, and absolutely incapable of writing good poetry. Every time he spots the heroine, he launches into the worst rhymes you’ve ever heard. It’s so bad that you’re embarrassed for both of them. He follows her everywhere, reading his masterpieces at the most inappropriate times—like during a funeral. Who does that?

And finally, the Hero Knight. Ah, the knight. The epitome of overzealous stupidity. He turned grocery shopping into a three-day quest for the “Golden Lettuce of Destiny,” and vowed to defend the heroine’s honor from…nobody. You’d swear he’s larping 24/7. It’s exhausting just reading about him.

As if that weren’t bad enough, the heroine ends up in a polycule with all of them because the author was so sick of comments asking, “Who will she date?” that they just threw their hands up and went, “Fine, she dates everyone!” The heroine looks exhausted, and you feel for her. You feel for yourself, too, because reading this is actively lowering your IQ.

You sit there, flabbergasted, staring at the screen. This is what you’ve chosen to waste your time on? What’s worse, your boss will probably come around the corner any minute to scold you—oh wait, nope, the corner of the ceiling just gave out and bonk—there goes a chunk of plaster, right on your head.

You cannot believe this is how you get taken out.

You wake up and, somehow, it’s worse. You’re in a four-poster bed, covered in satin sheets, and your first thought is goddammit—you’ve been isekai’d. And not just into any world. That world. The webnovel.

You drag yourself out of bed, feeling a sudden wave of dread. You were the heroine in this mess. The heroine. Goddammit, why does everything bad only happen to you? For a moment, you're relieved you’re not the villainess. But then you remember: you’re stuck in a polycule with three absolute clowns.

Nope. Not happening. You will not end up with any of these pushy idiots. Goal one? Avoid the polycule at all costs.

Suddenly, the door flies open with a bang, and in burst all three male leads, dramatically weeping and crying out how you’ve been in a coma for so long. Their over-the-top emotions would be heartwarming if they weren’t so ridiculous.

“You’ve returned to us, my dearest flower of the kingdom!” the Crown Prince sobs, still perfectly dressed despite the tears streaming down his face. He sniffs and dabs his eyes with a handkerchief embroidered with his own face. Of course.

The Duke starts reciting the worst love poem you've ever heard, right there, in the middle of your room, as if you didn’t just wake up from a coma.

“I wandered, lost, like a daisy in a field of… uh… misery, because you, my sun, were hidden in the sky of my heart…” The rest is a blur because your brain has officially short-circuited.

And the Hero Knight? He’s already on his knees, swearing to protect you from whatever invisible threat he’s made up this time. “Fear not, fair lady! I shall defend thee against all who oppose your grace!”

You manage to kick all of them out of your room with a lot of effort and a lot of heavy glares. The moment you’re alone, you find a suicide note on the dresser, written by the actual heroine. Apparently, she drank poison just to get away from these weirdos.

What an icon.

But not you. You’re not dying again for these guys. No way.

You’re moving through the bustling market in full disguise, keeping an eye out for any knights or familiar faces. Your plan is simple: escape the polycule before any of those nutjobs track you down. With every step, you remind yourself that freedom is just one boat ride away—preferably to a distant land that has no idea who the Hero Knight, the Duke, or the crown prince are.

But as you round a corner, your thoughts scatter when you bump—quite literally—into something solid. You stagger back, blinking up at a tall figure dressed in all black. At first, panic flashes through you—please don’t be one of them—but when your eyes meet his, it’s not the Crown Prince, the Duke, or the Hero Knight.

It’s someone new. And he seems… perfectly pleasant. His strikingly elegant features, crowned by horns, should make him imposing, but his eyes soften as he looks at you. There’s an almost serene curiosity in them.

"Ah, forgive me," he says smoothly, his deep voice lilting with a formality that surprises you. "I didn’t see you there."

"No, no, it’s my fault," you reply, awkwardly waving your hands, trying to figure out why he’s so different from everyone else in this place. He’s polite. Polite. Already, you feel better about this encounter than you have about every conversation with the three other disasters that have been stalking you.

He steps aside, but instead of walking away, he looks around the marketplace with a faint, thoughtful frown. “I seem to have… lost my way,” he admits, glancing back at you. “This place is unfamiliar to me.”

Something in his tone, in the way his eyes briefly widen as he takes in the simplest market stalls—like he’s genuinely fascinated—makes you soften toward him. Ugh, bleeding heart strikes again. Before you know it, you find yourself asking, “Do you need help? I can… show you around.”

He turns his gaze back to you, and his lips quirk into the smallest, softest smile. “That would be most appreciated.”

As you walk together, he marvels at the simplest things—the fresh bread from a stall, the colorful fabrics, the scent of flowers sold at a cart. He’s curious about everything, eyes lingering on each sight like it’s the first time he’s ever seen such mundane wonders. His fascination is oddly endearing. It’s clear he’s not used to mingling in places like this, and his awe at the most normal things is… well, cute.

"Have you ever seen so many people in one place?" you ask, trying to fill the silence, though you’re surprised to find that you’re not uncomfortable around him.

He chuckles lightly. “Not in such a casual setting, no. It’s quite… charming. Everything feels so alive.”

You almost snort at the idea that this guy finds a basic market so thrilling, but you keep it in check. At least he’s not another drama king like the Crown Prince or a bad poet like the Duke.

It’s been a surprisingly pleasant afternoon until your luck inevitably runs out. You spot the familiar, impeccably dressed figure of the Crown Prince moving through the crowd with his knights. He’s scanning the area, and panic rises in your throat.

“Crap,” you mutter under your breath. Instinctively, you grab the man’s sleeve, tugging him down the nearest alley. “We need to go. Now.”

He blinks, looking puzzled but not resisting. “Is something wrong?”

Yes! you think, your mind flashing to the emotional wreck that is the prince. "No time to explain. Just trust me."

But you’re too late. The Crown Prince, in all his resplendent, overly perfect glory, catches sight of you just as you’re about to disappear into the shadows.

“Well, well,” the prince calls out with an overly bright smile. “If it isn’t my darling—oh!” His eyes widen as he finally notices the tall figure standing next to you. “Prince Malleus Draconia of Briar Valley!”

You blue screen.

Your grip loosens on Malleus’s sleeve as your brain sputters. Prince. Fae Prince. You’d just been casually chatting with the Prince of Briar Valley like he was some random lost guy? Did you seriously just… You internally spiral as the realization sinks in. Of course, he's a prince! The horns! The aura!

Malleus, for his part, remains calm and collected, inclining his head toward the Crown Prince. “Ah, it seems I’ve been found,” he says smoothly, completely unaware of the crisis currently happening inside your head.

The Crown Prince gives Malleus a florid bow, then immediately turns his attention back to you. “My dear, you shouldn’t be wandering the streets alone. Allow me to escort you to the palace.” His hand reaches out toward you, his smile practiced and princely, but your gut clenches with discomfort. No, nope, no thanks.

You step back instinctively, your unease written all over your face. Before you can even figure out how to politely decline without causing a scene, Malleus moves.

Malleus, who up until now was watching the exchange with mild curiosity, steps forward. His eyes narrow slightly as he looks the Crown Prince up and down. The prince stumbles over his words and backs away under the weight of Malleus’ stare.

The Crown Prince’s smile falters. He hesitates, glancing between you and Malleus, clearly unsure how to proceed. “I—um—of course, Prince Malleus, I didn’t mean to overstep,” he stammers, eyes darting nervously between the two of you.

You stand there, stunned, watching as Malleus’ mere presence makes the most annoyingly confident man in the kingdom back off. Is this real life?

The prince clears his throat awkwardly, then shoots you one last uneasy smile before making a swift retreat with his knights, leaving you standing there with Malleus.

You let out a long, relieved breath and glance up at him, feeling a little less like you’re about to lose your mind. “Thanks… for that.”

Malleus’ lips quirk into a tiny, knowing smile. “It was my pleasure.” He tilts his head, eyes still twinkling with that same curiosity from earlier. “Although, I must admit, I’m rather curious why you were so eager to avoid him.”

You laugh nervously, running a hand through your hair. “Let’s just say… he’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

You don't know how you’ve ended up in this mess. One minute, you’re lost in the market, trying to figure out how to escape this ridiculous polycule situation, and the next, you’ve been dragged into a carriage on your way to the palace—with the Crown Prince, your overly dramatic Knight, and the Fae Prince himself.

Malleus, the Fae Prince, had politely asked if you would accompany him to the palace, and in a panic, you said yes. Because, really, how could you admit to both him and the Crown Prince that you’d actually been planning to skip town? So now, here you are, sitting through the most awkward carriage ride of your life.

Your knight, perched beside you, clears his throat dramatically. “Fear not, my lady,” he says in a voice filled with too much gravitas for the situation. “I shall protect you from all perils! Should the wind itself dare to brush against your delicate frame, I shall strike it down with my blade! No harm shall come to you so long as I draw breath!”

You facepalm internally. Please. Stop talking.

The Crown Prince, sitting across from you, adjusts his cufflinks for the tenth time. “I must say,” he purrs, fishing for compliments, “this outfit is particularly resplendent today, don’t you think? The shade of royal blue brings out the depth in my eyes. It was hand-tailored, of course. What do you think, my dear?”

You blink at him, trying to process whether he’s serious. He is. He’s absolutely serious.

Malleus watches the exchange in silent confusion, his eyes flicking between the three of you as if trying to figure out if this is normal human behavior. After all, you’ve got one guy swearing to kill the breeze, another obsessed with his reflection, and you, trying to melt into the upholstery.

“Is this… how humans typically behave?” Malleus asks, his voice soft and genuinely curious.

You shake your head vigorously. “No. This is how clowns behave.” Malleus raises an eyebrow but seems satisfied with your answer, settling back into his seat.

When the carriage finally—finally—arrives at the palace, you’re barely holding onto your sanity. But things are about to get worse.

As you’re ushered into the meeting hall, a trio approaches you. It’s Lilia, Silver, and… Sebek.

Sebek, who looks one step away from a full-blown aneurysm.

"Lord Malleus!" Sebek practically screeches, running toward Malleus like the world was ending. “How could you wander off on your own?! Do you know how much chaos you caused?! I almost fainted from sheer terror!”

Malleus doesn’t even flinch. “I had a guide.” He gestures toward you.

Sebek’s eyes land on you, and you quickly glance around for an escape route. “YOU?! YOU DARED TOUCH—”

Before Sebek can finish, you spot the Duke—one of your many suitors and part of the delegation—striding toward you with his usual brooding expression. You instinctively grab onto Malleus’ sleeve for some comfort (or maybe protection from what’s about to come next).

The Duke’s eyes light up as he sees you, and then… he begins to recite. “Oh, my dearest, like the moon that doth gleam upon a cheese plate—no, wait—upon a field of… toes? Your hair, like the petals of wilted roses in the rain... um… and your eyes… they are like two potatoes, cooked to perfection…”

Even Sebek is speechless. You think you see a vein pop on his forehead, but for once, he’s too stunned to yell.

Lilia, standing beside Sebek, chuckles, amused. “Well, I have to say, that’s… quite something.”

Malleus tilts his head, blinking at the Duke’s strange poetry. “Are potatoes considered a form of flattery in human culture?”

“No,” you mutter. “No, they’re not.”

Just when you think things can’t possibly get more absurd, the meeting begins. Because you’re technically the daughter of a Duke, you’re forced to sit through the whole ordeal. They start discussing the logistics of showing the fae delegation around the city.

“We need someone trustworthy to act as a guide,” one of the officials says, glancing toward the Crown Prince.

Malleus, who had been quietly observing the room, suddenly speaks up. “I believe I’ve already found the perfect guide.”

You freeze. No. No, no, no.

“The young lady who helped me in the market,” Malleus continues, looking directly at you.

The room falls silent. You, of all people, are the last person who wants to be anywhere near the fae delegation or, worse, your insane suitors. But before you can even open your mouth to refuse, the Crown Prince starts.

“My dear,” he says, leaning forward with a princely grin, “while I understand you’ve already formed an acquaintance with Prince Malleus, perhaps it would be better for someone more… experienced to take on this role.” He flashes his most charming smile, which, after everything today, only makes you cringe.

But Malleus just stares at him, completely unbothered. “No. I want her as my guide.”

Silver shifts slightly, glancing at you with an expression you can’t quite place, while Lilia’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “How interesting,” Lilia murmurs, clearly entertained by the situation.

Sebek, however, explodes. “IF LORD MALLEUS WANTS HER AS HIS GUIDE, THEN SO BE IT!” He turns toward the Crown Prince, practically vibrating with anger. “YOU WILL NOT QUESTION HIS DECISION!”

The Crown Prince, for once, looks genuinely taken aback. “I—I meant no offense! Of course, whatever Lord Malleus desires…”

You sink into your chair, feeling like your last chance at a peaceful life just flew out the window. Malleus turns to you with an expectant, polite smile. “I look forward to our time together.”

You groan inwardly. How is this my life?

You had to admit, Malleus was really nice. When you compared him to the absolute circus of clowns you had to deal with, he was practically a gift sent from above. So, you made a decision—if you were going to be his guide, you were going to be the best guide ever. And once they wrapped up this whole diplomatic visit, you'd beg him to take you with him to Briar Valley, where hopefully, your ridiculous suitors would be very far away.

Apparently, being a guide also meant dragging him along to everything you did, including navigating high society. This was where things got tricky. The original heroine had endured these events like a pro, but you? You were just a lowly office worker who'd read bad webnovels to avoid work. Now you were living in one.

First stop: a tea party.

As you sit down with Malleus beside you—who’s awkwardly perched in a chair much too small for him—you scan the room. Of course, all three of your ridiculous suitors are here. The Crown Prince, obsessing over the intricate lace of his cravat. The Hero Knight, sharpening his sword for no reason in the middle of a garden party. And the Duke, scribbling poetry on a napkin with all the grace of a sleep-deprived teenager finishing their homework five minutes before class.

But this wasn’t just about them. This was also your first time meeting the so-called villainess.

The villainess arrived like a whirlwind of petticoats and extravagant headpieces, smiling in that "I'm about to ruin your whole existence" kind of way. You smiled back, trying not to look dead inside when she launched into a diatribe about ruffles.

"And you see," she said, flickering her wrist with an air of superiority, "it was positively scandalous! The seamstress gave me a gown with only forty ruffles. Can you imagine? What am I, a commoner?"

You tried to smile politely. Truly. But Malleus, seated beside you, was staring at her with this fascinated look, as if watching a rare bird display its feathers. You could tell he was having a hard time grasping what the point of her story was. So were you.

But then, of course, the conversation turned personal.

“And the Duke,” the villainess said with a sly smirk, “such a poetic soul. He deserves better than to pine over someone who clearly has no appreciation for his art. Don’t you think?”

You blinked. Was this woman for real? You glanced at the Duke, who had suddenly gone from scribbling to gazing at you with that awful puppy-dog look. The one that meant another horrible poem was probably brewing.

You couldn’t help it. The words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Please take him.”

The villainess's eyes widened. “What?”

Malleus looked at you in amusement, while the Duke gasped dramatically, as if you’d just run him through with a sword.

You clasped your hands together and leaned forward earnestly. “Please, please take him. I don’t want him. At all. He’s all yours. You can have him—along with his potato-themed poems.”

The Duke visibly wilted. “But—! My lady! You—you wound me!”

“No, Duke, you wound me—with your terrible metaphors,” you deadpan. “And I’m begging you. Take him. Please. For the love of everything holy, I’m begging you.”

The villainess, probably for the first time in her life, looked completely flustered. “Are you… serious?”

“Absolutely,” you said, nodding. “I will sign papers. I’ll throw a party. I’ll—whatever it takes. Just… he’s yours.”

Malleus and Lilia were practically shaking with barely-contained laughter at this point, while the Duke had dropped to one knee, a napkin-clutched in his hand like some sad bouquet. “My poems… they were written with you in mind. Each line! Each stanza! Crafted from the depths of my heart!”

“Exactly,” you said, unblinking. “That’s why I need you to take him. Before he writes more.”

The villainess stared at you, completely dumbfounded. Then, after a pause, she broke into a smile. “Well, I’ve never had a man gifted to me before. I suppose I can make an exception.”

You felt like you could cry with relief. “Thank you.”

And just like that, your beef with the villainess was squashed. You traded your tragic suitor for peace of mind, and the villainess, now on the receiving end of the Duke’s “affections,” seemed pleased with her new prize.

Malleus leaned in, his voice low but filled with amusement. “I must say, you handled that quite well.”

You sighed, finally able to relax. “I handled that with desperation.”

And just like that, you’d rid yourself of two your problems. Now… to figure out how to survive the other two without losing your sanity.

You barely had time to process your victory over one villainess before a second one spawned out of nowhere like this was some kind of twisted video game. The Isekai Overlords clearly weren’t done with you yet. And this one? Oh, she was worse. The Crown Prince’s younger sister—spoiled princess extraordinaire—who genuinely believed her father was the reason the sun rose in the morning.

But, to your surprise, she didn’t even care about you. Like, at all. She acted like you didn’t even exist. Honestly? You were grateful. At least you could blend into the background this time and—oh no. Oh no.

She was making a beeline straight for Malleus.

You watched, horrified, as the princess latched onto him, throwing herself at him like he was a rare limited-edition collectible and not, you know, the Prince of Briar Valley and one of the most powerful beings in the world. Malleus shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure how to handle the situation, while Sebek was being barely restrained by Lilia and Silver. Lilia, of course, had that mischievous glint in his eye, like he was enjoying the whole ordeal.

You, on the other hand, were not enjoying it. You could practically see your retirement plans shriveling up in front of you—this had diplomatic nightmare written all over it. If Malleus so much as sneezed, you were pretty sure this princess would declare war on Briar Valley.

So, you did the only thing you could think of: you stepped in.

“Um, excuse me, Your Highness,” you said, stepping between the princess and Malleus. “Could you maybe… not cling to him like he’s a handbag?”

She turned to you with a look of utter disdain, like you were a fly she was too annoyed to swat away. “And who are you, exactly?”

Before you could answer, she pointed an accusatory finger at you. “I challenge you to a duel! For his hand!”

You blinked. “Bro, what?”

The princess huffed. “For the hand of Prince Malleus, of course! You think I didn’t see you fawning over him?”

“Fawning? I’m literally just his guide!” You gestured to Malleus, who, for some reason, looked almost giddy. “I’m not dating him, we’re not engaged, and if you push it, we’re maybe friends.”

Malleus practically beamed at the word “friends.” Was he… happy about this? About being defended like some damsel in distress? You were defending the most powerful fae in existence, and here he was, looking like you just made his entire year.

Sebek and Silver immediately stepped forward, but before they could say anything, Malleus raised a hand. “No. I would like to see how my guide—and friend—defends my honor.”

Your brain short-circuited. What?!

The princess smirked, clearly thinking she had you cornered. “Prepare yourself for the duel then! My personal knight will face you.”

You glanced at the knight, a towering figure who looked like he’d been training for war since birth, and then back at the sword that had been thrust into your hands. This was not how you imagined your day going. You hadn’t even touched a sword before. Meanwhile, your opponent was stretching like this was a warm-up exercise.

Still, you had no choice. With a deep breath and the knowledge that you were about to make a complete fool of yourself, you stepped forward, sword held awkwardly in front of you.

The duel began.

The knight lunged at you with a practiced, fluid motion. You, on the other hand, tripped over a rock, accidentally ducking his strike, and in your flailing attempt to stay upright, the hilt of your sword smacked him right in the face.

There was a collective gasp from the audience.

“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath.

The knight staggered, his face scrunched in confusion. He tried again, this time swinging from the side. You managed to parry—purely out of luck—and in the process, tripped forward, sending your sword clattering out of your hands and somehow knocking the knight’s legs out from under him. He fell to the ground with a thud.

Dead silence followed.

You stood there, frozen, your sword lying a few feet away. The knight was on his back, staring up at the sky, clearly bewildered by what had just happened. You hadn't even swung properly!

Lilia burst out laughing. “My, my! That was quite the duel! You’ll have to take responsibility now.”

“Responsibility?” you echoed, flustered beyond belief. “For what? I just—he tripped! I tripped! That wasn’t even—”

“Exactly,” Lilia teased. “You won the duel. Now you must take responsibility for defending Prince Malleus’ honor so valiantly.”

Malleus, looking thoroughly impressed, gave you a small, pleased smile. “Indeed. You have my gratitude.”

The princess, meanwhile, was gaping at you like she couldn’t believe what just happened. “This… this is an outrage!”

You sighed, feeling utterly exhausted. “Look, I didn’t even want to duel in the first place. Can’t we just—call it a day? I’ve had enough of knights and duels and—” You gestured vaguely to Malleus. “I’m not even dating him.”

Malleus’ smile widened. “But we are friends.”

Lilia chuckled. “Ah, young love is so complicated.”

You shot him a glare. This was not what you signed up for. But hey, at least you won the duel—somehow.

You were lounging in your mansion’s parlor, the day blissfully uneventful for once. The warm sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a cozy glow over the room. Malleus was mid-conversation—no, scratch that—mid-rant about gargoyles. To your surprise, you were actually kind of into it.

“And that’s the primary difference between gargoyles and grotesques,” Malleus continued passionately. “You see, gargoyles are not merely decorative but also functional, designed to channel water away from the structure, whereas grotesques, while similar in appearance, serve no such purpose. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

You nodded, intrigued, and cut in with a genuine question. “Wait, so is the functionality the only difference? Like, are they made from the same material?”

Malleus blinked, slightly taken aback that you were not only listening but actively participating. “Yes, precisely. They are often carved from the same stone, but it’s their purpose that sets them apart. For example, in the southern—” He paused, seeming to catch himself, suddenly looking sheepish. “Ah, forgive me. I fear I’ve been talking too much.”

Sebek nearly jumped out of his seat, eyes wide with horror. “Lord Malleus! Everything you say is perfect! Don’t apologize for sharing your magnificent knowledge!”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “No, really, I enjoy it,” you said, waving off Malleus’ concerns. “I mean, how often do you get to talk about something so niche with someone who knows this much about it? I actually have a question—do any of the gargoyles in the Briar Valley have, like, historical significance? Like ones that are still functioning after all this time?”

Malleus lit up, and he launched right back into it, going on about ancient gargoyles in the Briar Valley that had withstood the test of time. He even started comparing the craftsmanship of various eras, and to your own surprise, you threw in a few comments about architecture and water systems, things you barely remembered from some random articles you’d read ages ago.

Halfway through a comparison of Gothic versus Renaissance gargoyle styles, a soft knock interrupted. Your maid entered, bowing slightly. “My lady, pardon the interruption, but we need your guidance with something in the kitchens.”

You sighed but smiled, pushing yourself off the couch. “I’ll be right back. Don’t let them bully you into leaving the gargoyle talk,” you teased as you walked out, completely unaware of the effect your comment had left behind.

As soon as the door closed, Malleus stood there, momentarily speechless. His pale cheeks took on the faintest hint of color, and his eyes were wide, as if someone had just smacked him with a metaphorical brick of emotions. The prince of Briar Valley, the most powerful creature in existence, was blushing like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

Lilia, ever the mischievous one, was already grinning from ear to ear, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, well, well… isn’t this interesting?” he purred, barely suppressing a chuckle.

Silver raised an amused brow, casting a side glance at Malleus. “It’s not every day we see him blush.”

Sebek, on the other hand, was utterly baffled but still overjoyed at seeing his lord smiling so widely. “Of course Lord Malleus is happy!” Sebek exclaimed proudly, though there was a trace of confusion in his voice. “He’s been honored with your presence and your rapt attention, as is only right! I just—” Sebek glanced around, as if trying to understand the subtle undercurrent in the room, “—I don’t understand why he’s so… red?”

Lilia patted Sebek on the back, barely holding in his laughter. “Oh, Sebek, my boy. This is what happens when someone gets the attention they’ve long desired.”

Malleus cleared his throat, trying—and failing—to compose himself. “I’m merely… pleased,” he said, though his blush betrayed him. “It’s rare to find someone who listens so attentively.”

Lilia chuckled softly. “Yes, and who knows the difference between gargoyles and grotesques, I imagine. Quite the match for you, wouldn’t you say?”

Malleus, flustered beyond belief, gave Lilia a sidelong look but said nothing, clearly more preoccupied with the strange warmth blooming in his chest.

By the time you returned, unaware of the scene you’d left behind, Malleus was still trying to gather himself. Lilia shot you a knowing smile, and Silver just gave you a look like you have no idea what’s happening, do you? Sebek, as always, continued to beam with unshakable loyalty to his blushing lord.

But hey, at least Malleus was happy—really happy.

It all started innocently enough—you were having dinner with Malleus, Sebek, Lilia, and Silver. Sebek was, as usual, going on one of his rants about how absolutely divine Malleus was, Lilia was being cryptic and vaguely mischievous, and Silver was dozing off between courses.

You, being the delightful disaster that you were, cracked a joke between bites. “Honestly, if Sebek praises Malleus any more, we might as well commission a statue of him—complete with an audio loop of Sebek’s praises.”

Malleus laughed. Actually laughed. It was such a rare sound, deep and rich, and when you heard it, your heart stuttered in your chest like someone had just jabbed you with a lightning bolt.

Oh no.

You knew, from that very moment, you were in deep, deep shit.

From that point on, everything Malleus did made it impossible for you to act normal around him. His laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he found something amusing, the warmth in his voice when he spoke to you—how had you not noticed before? And now, every time Lilia even looked at you, it was with this knowing, mischievous grin, like the universe had finally granted him the entertainment he’d been waiting for all these centuries.

“This,” Lilia said one day, leaning in conspiratorially with a grin that could light up a room, “this is what I’ve lived so long for.”

And to make matters worse, it wasn’t just your mind tormenting you. Oh no. It was like the entire world was in on the joke. You could practically see sparkles in the air every time Malleus so much as glanced your way. Sparkles, for crying out loud. Your heart was in critical danger.

Your solution? Avoid him.

But it wasn’t that simple. You tried hiding behind furniture, ducking into bushes, and even feigning an incredibly inconvenient bout of food poisoning just to avoid being near him. One time, you spotted Malleus coming down the hall and, in a blind panic, dove behind a potted plant. The plant was tiny. You were not. Somehow, you thought it would work.

It didn’t. Malleus casually walked over, spotted you crouching awkwardly behind the plant, and said, “Is there something wrong with that shrubbery? Should I summon someone to tend to it?”

Another time, you attempted to “sneak” out of the palace by pretending you were a passing merchant. You wore a very large hat and wrapped yourself in an oversized cloak. Malleus found you immediately.

“Aren’t you feeling a bit warm in that?” he asked, blinking at your ridiculous ensemble.

He had fae hearing. He could always find you.

Even guiding him around town became a disaster. How were you supposed to be a competent host when all you could think about was how unfairly hot he was? Every word he said carried this charming, ancient elegance, and here you were, a flustered mess with zero composure.

Lilia? Still having the time of his life. He was practically choking on his laughter at this point. Silver, somehow, slept through most of your crises, and Sebek was just thrilled Malleus was spending so much time with him (though he was clearly confused about why you were acting so weird).

Finally, you had enough. One night, under the cover of the moon, you snuck into the garden with the determination of someone completely done with their own suffering. You found a flower—granted, you didn’t know what it was, but it looked nice—and you marched up to Malleus, who was out enjoying the evening air, blissfully unaware of the emotional train wreck headed his way.

“I need to say something!” you blurted, shoving the flower toward him.

Malleus took the flower carefully, glancing down at it. His expression shifted from curious to… mildly concerned? “This flower,” he said slowly, “is traditionally used in Briar Valley to signify deep betrayal…”

You blinked. Oh god.

“No, wait! I didn’t mean—!” you stammered, but before you could backtrack, your brain decided it had had enough. You blurted out the truth, no holds barred: “I like you, okay?! I’ve been a mess for weeks because of how ridiculously perfect you are, and I’m tired of avoiding you and hiding behind plants! So there!”

There was a moment of stunned silence. Malleus stared at you, his eyes wide with shock, and then, much to your surprise (and relief), he broke into the widest smile you’d ever seen on him. It was like the moon had just gotten brighter.

“You’re confessing… to me?” he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine joy.

“Yes,” you groaned, face burning with embarrassment. “Now please reject me so I can go lie in a ditch somewhere.”

But instead of rejection, you got happy dragon noises. Malleus gently pulled you into his arms and, with a voice full of affection, declared, “You are mine, then. From this day forward, you are my beloved.”

Cue your soul leaving your body.

When you broke the news to your father the next day, the poor Duke nearly fainted at the sight of the Prince of Briar Valley standing there, flanked by Silver, Sebek, and Lilia, the former general grinning like the Cheshire cat.

The Duke was intimidated—terrified, really—and quickly agreed to let the courtship proceed. But there was a catch.

“You’ll have to tell the Crown Prince and the Hero Knight yourself,” your father said, his face pale. “I’m not getting involved in that.”

Your retirement plans had officially died.

Despite all the chaos that had entered your life since becoming Malleus's beloved, you had to admit—there were perks. One of those was what you’d come to call "fae luck." It became especially apparent during a particularly tense diplomatic meeting involving the fae, the beastmen, and your kingdom.

The room was filled with strained conversations, the kind of diplomacy that could either result in peace or war, depending on how fragile the egos in the room were. You were sitting between Malleus and the second prince, doing your best to avoid looking at the first prince, who had already been giving you way too much attention for comfort.

Then it happened.

The first prince, ever the picture of grace, rose to speak. As he took his first step forward… THUD. He tripped spectacularly, arms flailing, and landed directly in the lap of the Beastmen Queen. There was a collective gasp, and for a heartbeat, you thought maybe this could be saved—until he opened his mouth.

“Well, I guess I’ve… fallen for you!”

Silence.

The Beastmen Queen's expression froze. The fae delegation collectively facepalmed, and you could practically feel the tension suffocating the room.

And then the Beastmen were on their feet, growling and demanding the immediate removal of the first prince from the line of succession. One of their diplomats, fur bristling with indignation, roared, “This is an insult to our Queen! Remove this fool from the throne!”

Instead of apologizing, as a normal, sane person might have, the first prince, face red with embarrassment, dug himself even deeper. “It was a joke! Can’t you beastmen take a joke? Honestly, I don’t see why everyone’s so sensitive.”

The Beastmen's amger intensified, and you saw the Emperor and Empress—who had been trying desperately to maintain order—sink deeper into their seats, their expressions a mix of horror and resignation. The entire room was teetering on the brink of an international incident.

And then… you spotted it.

A little green wisp, barely visible, flitting through the air right around where the prince had been standing before his magnificent face-plant.

You glanced toward Malleus, who was sitting beside you, looking perfectly composed, save for the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Beside him, Lilia gave you a knowing wink, his mischievous grin unmistakable.

They caused this.

Within moments, the decision was made: the first prince was officially removed as heir to the throne. His younger brother, the second prince—who had always been calm, composed, and infinitely more capable—was declared the new Crown Prince.

It was glorious.

But before you could celebrate, the first prince turned toward you, his expression sour and filled with desperation. "You—" he began, as if about to drag you into his misery.

Not today, prince.

Finally given the chance to reject him properly, you rose from your seat, letting out a long, exaggerated sigh as you faced him.

“I’ve been waiting so long to say this,” you began, crossing your arms and locking eyes with him. “I reject you. Completely. Wholly. Utterly. There is not a single fiber in my being that has ever been remotely interested in you. In fact, the only thing that’s ever kept me in proximity to you was the sheer necessity of survival.”

The first prince’s mouth opened, but you weren’t done.

“Remember all those times you made those comments about my ‘station’ and how ‘lucky’ I was to be considered by you?” you said, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything back then because I was too polite, but now? No thanks. Absolutely not. I would rather spend a century in the swamps than a minute more listening to you.”

Sebek, of all people, burst into laughter. “She’s got a point!” he managed between snickers. Lilia was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes twinkling in amusement, and Silver, barely awake, gave a lazy thumbs-up in support.

Malleus, meanwhile, looked positively enchanted. His eyes sparkled as he watched you lay into the former prince, pride and affection written all over his face. When you were done, he leaned toward you, murmuring with a soft smile, “I do love seeing you stand up for yourself.”

The first prince, his face red with humiliation, stammered, “You can’t speak to me like that!”

“Oh, but I just did,” you replied with a sweet smile. “And you know what? It felt amazing.”

With that, the first prince slunk away, his tail metaphorically between his legs, while the room buzzed with whispered laughter. Even the Beastmen, who had been ready to rip the prince to shreds, seemed satisfied.

You had never felt more victorious. Malleus looked at you with such adoration, and Lilia… well, Lilia looked like he was already planning his next round of mischief.

It was a good day.

The festival was going about as smoothly as a cat in a bathtub. You were trying to act like you weren’t hopelessly entangled with the most dangerously attractive fae prince in existence, while also managing to survive the company of your absurd entourage.

Sebek was marching around, loudly reminding anyone within earshot of his unwavering devotion to Lord Malleus. His eyes would dart to you occasionally, like he was calculating whether you were worthy of being in the same airspace as his revered master. Silver, half-asleep, was keeping one lazy yet disturbingly sharp eye on you, while Lilia was in his element—practically vibrating with amusement, like he was waiting for you to trip and fall into a cauldron of chaos.

And then there was the Hero Knight. This guy had shown up uninvited, all shiny armor and noble delusions, insisting he protect you from… something? Yourself? Malleus? Winning too many festival games?

“Are you sure you’re safe?” the Hero Knight asked, sidling up far too close, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve heard stories about these fae festivals. One wrong step, and you’ll be cursed to dance for a hundred years, or worse—turned into a tree.”

You squinted at him. “Right. I’ll make sure to avoid the face-painting booth. Wouldn’t want to end up as a shrub for eternity.”

Malleus, ever patient, simply raised an eyebrow, as if contemplating whether this so-called Hero Knight was worth the oxygen he was breathing. Lilia, meanwhile, was biting his lip to stop from laughing.

But then, amid your rising frustration, you spotted it: the holy grail of festival prizes. The gargoyle plushie.

It wasn’t just any gargoyle plushie. It was perfect. Chunky, with tiny wings and a slightly disgruntled expression, it radiated the exact energy you associated with Malleus—regal, intimidating, yet somehow huggable.

You pointed at it like you’d just discovered a hidden treasure. “I need that.”

Malleus, ever-attentive, followed your gaze and smiled softly. “Do you desire the gargoyle?”

“Obviously! It’s basically you in plushie form,” you said, already walking toward the game stall. “But, you know, it’s rigged. All festival games are.”

Malleus watched you with his trademark elegant amusement. “Perhaps I can—”

“No, no,” you interrupted, raising a hand. “I’m winning this fair and square. No fae magic, no dragon lord intervention. Just pure skill.”

You grabbed the darts, took a deep breath, and began your assault on the rigged game. It wasn’t easy. The darts bounced, the targets mocked you, and you could feel the Hero Knight hovering over your shoulder like a bad itch.

“Are you sure this is wise?” the Hero Knight asked again, his voice dripping with concern. “This feels like a trap. What if they’ve enchanted the darts? What if—”

You whirled on him, fed up. “Listen, Sir Gallant-with-too-much-hair-gel, it’s a dart game. Not an assassination plot. If I can survive dealing with you, I think I can handle a few rigged targets.”

Lilia absolutely lost it. He doubled over, wheezing in laughter, while Silver let out an amused snort. Even Sebek looked like he was struggling not to smirk, though he quickly composed himself.

Malleus, ever regal, simply smiled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I have faith in your abilities, my dear.”

Fueled by that comment—and the knowledge that the Hero Knight was slowly losing what remained of his dignity—you managed to hit the final target. The plushie was yours.

Triumphantly, you grabbed the gargoyle and turned to Malleus. “For you.”

Malleus, to your utter delight, looked genuinely touched. His eyes softened, and that rare, warm smile appeared. “You won this for me?”

“Obviously,” you said, trying not to melt under his gaze. “A prince should have his own gargoyle.”

Silver, who had been observing the entire scene with increasing clarity despite his usual drowsiness, raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.”

Sebek, who was still processing the fact that you’d just casually given his lord a gargoyle plushie, grunted. “You… you truly care for Lord Malleus.”

Before you could say anything, the Hero Knight, still floundering, piped up. “Well, I could’ve won that gargoyle too, you know. If you wanted to—”

“Oh, please,” you cut him off, turning to the Knight. “You probably would’ve asked the stall vendor to throw in a manual on ‘How to Not Be a Total Wet Blanket at Festivals.’”

Lilia nearly collapsed. “Oh, please stop—I can’t—” he gasped, clearly having the time of his life.

You waved him off and turned back to Malleus, who was still holding the plushie with the same reverence one might reserve for an ancient relic. “Shall we continue?”

Next up was a couple’s game. You had no intention of participating—until you noticed the Hero Knight gearing up to suggest that he join in to protect you. Oh no. Not today. You grabbed Malleus’ arm and dragged him into the game, completely ignoring the Knight’s sputtering objections.

“It’s… it’s traditionally for couples…” Silver noted, giving you a look that clearly said, I see what’s happening here.

You ignored him too.

The game was simple enough: throw rings onto bottles, but for some reason, the tension was palpable. Probably because you were standing next to one of the most powerful beings in existence, and you’d dragged him into a ridiculous couples’ game in front of his overly protective retinue.

But you won. And to rub salt in the Hero Knight’s ego, you fed Malleus one of the sweets you’d won.

“Y-You!” Sebek spluttered, looking as though you’d just committed the highest treason against decorum. “Feeding Lord Malleus… this… this is too much!”

The Hero Knight, on the other hand, looked utterly baffled. “Are you… are you sure that’s safe? What if the sweets are—”

“I swear, if you don’t stop, I’m going to feed you to the fairies,” you hissed, snapping the sweet in half and popping it into Malleus’ mouth. He smiled as he ate it, clearly enjoying himself.

By the time the fireworks started, you had somehow survived the night without murdering the Hero Knight. The sky exploded in a kaleidoscope of colors, and for a brief moment, it was peaceful.

And then, without thinking, you kissed Malleus.

There was a split second of stunned silence. And then all hell broke loose.

Sebek let out a screech that could rival a banshee. “My Lord! My Lord!” His voice cracked in disbelief, but then—surprisingly—he softened. “If… If Lord Malleus must fall for a human, I am glad it is someone… as devoted as you. My lady.”

You looked at him, touched. “Thank you, Sebek.”

Silver gave a rare smile, looking both amused and resigned. “Congratulations. You’ve managed to pull this off somehow.”

Lilia, predictably, was still dying of laughter, barely able to breathe between fits of wheezing.

And the Hero Knight? He looked like someone had just told him vampires were real and lived next door. “This… I… What…?”

You turned to him with a smile that could cut steel. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’ve been trying to tell you for months that I wasn’t interested. I’d rather kiss a gargoyle than you—actually, no. The gargoyle’s got more charm. Better conversation skills too.”

Lilia was full-on cackling now, leaning against a festival stall for support as the Hero Knight’s dignity shriveled up into nothingness.

Malleus, looking absolutely radiant, wrapped an arm around your waist. “Shall we depart? I believe we have a kingdom to return to.”

The next day, you stood with Malleus and his merry band of chaos, bidding farewell to your parents and butler. The Duke was still recovering from the heart attack Malleus had given him when he asked for your hand in courtship.

As you waved to your family, Malleus gently took your hand, leading you toward the carriage that would take you to Briar Valley.

“Well,” you muttered as you glanced back one last time, “this story of mine took a weird turn.”

Lilia, still grinning like a fiend, chimed in. “Oh, just wait until the sequel.”

The last thing you heard as the carriage rolled away was the Hero Knight muttering in the distance, “I could’ve won that gargoyle…”

You smiled. Maybe the webnovel wasn’t such a disaster after all.

Ahh I hope y'all like this one, malleus is one of my favs and I had so much fun writing him.

The Kalim one is being edited because it's a little too somber for me and I wanna make it a little more fun and Azul one is almost fully edited too!

So, here's a poll for the one after these. (They'll all get a turn)

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist

[spicymancer]

What was the process like for designing the ActiRangers, their civilian and suited forms? Their suits look so cool, it’s definitely clear you have a lot of familiarity with the genre while also having great ideas on how to innovate and add your own unique elements! Did they go through lots of conceptual iterations, or did they come pretty naturally? Any particular teams that inspired you, like SPD or RPM with their numbered members?

So the Actirangers started out as characters designed for a private little Tokusatsu OC jam I did with some friends! The design I submitted was Pink, (hence why she's kinda the main character of the story)

(Real name and certain background elements redacted for spoiler reasons)

So Pink's suit was the first one designed, hence how she's kinda the most basic of the Rangers. I had just got done watching Birdie Wing and Love After World Domination and thought it would be kinda fun for a golf themed sentai hero.

She was originally going to be ActiRanger 5 before I thought of the "Four/Fore" golf pun.

The rest of the team was then designed from there with each of their sports in mind and some general vibes.

I don't think they went through all that much iteration, though I will say since I tend to draw them in Black and White I sometimes mix up which parts of their suits are their color and which parts are black.

I wanted to give them each some kind of Power Weapon so I stuck to stick sports and also Table Tennis. (I am still weirdly fond of the old Penny Arcade Paint the Line comics)

As far as Power Ranger teams that inspired them, Mighty Morphin' is obviously the biggest inspo. (The Dan Mora run on the Go Go Power Rangers comics is awesome.) Time Force, S.P.D. and RPM were all on my mind as well.

For the Gambit Gang I was struggling to come up with a fun villain theme and eventually figureod out that the enemy to the "Sports" team had to be the "Chess Club". (Insert joke about polycules and board games)

Gray in particular was conceived at this point when I and wanted an Evil Ranger on their side. Chess Knights having a vague horse theme, he obviously had to be Polo! His design draws pretty heavily from Mystic Force's Koragg which is still IMO one of the sickest designs Sentai has ever cooked.

Wow that got a little more long winded than I inteded but I hope y'all enjoyed this little peek behind the curtain of the ActiRanger's development!

Thank you all for enjoying my silly OC comics and doodles!

[masked-and-doomed]

YAAYYYY YAAYYY YAHOO YIPEPEE YAAYY YAYYY YAYYY YAHOO YEEE YAAYY YAHOO YAYY I LOVE IT THANKS YAAYYY YIPEEE YAYY !!

Libraria for that one Conclave fan. Yes there is exactly one, you know who you are, ily.

[bopero]

sunspots

summary - a collection of hamzah’s lack of self control when it comes to you. warnings - swearing, reader is a kpop stan lol note - hai :3 i have been so obsessed with hamzah lately i had to get it out of my system. this is a side blog as im too embarrassed to post on my main fic blog. enjoy and send ideas!

polycule reveal - out of character #100

The podcast starts like any other. Hamzah and Martin sit in the middle of the couch, with Mandy and you on either side of them. It’s the first episode that has you featured in it, and Hamzah is quick to settle any nerves you have with a soft smile and a squeeze of your shoulder. “So, yeah guys. There’s another member in our polycule now, this is Hamzah’s contribution.” Martin points towards you. Hamzah shakes his head, “Alright, bro…”. “Does that mean I get a share of the YouTube channel? Mandy, have they ever given you money?” Mandy clicks her tongue and continues in her deadpan voice, “Um, no. Basically they keep me in their dungeon until they need more views. I’d run away if I were you, honestly.” You pretend to look nervously between Hamzah and Martin, “Honestly I didn’t wanna say it but the basement Hamzah keeps me in is super gross.” “I don’t like this bit. Viewers, please be advised I do not keep my girlfriend in a basement for views. I don’t know about Martin, though.” “Dang it, first episode and they’re already making us look like idiots, Mandy. We need to try harder.”

becoming bts - out of character #104

The episode is you, Hamzah, and Martin. Hamzah is sat obviously much closer to you (which the comments are quick to mention, laughing at the lack of personal space he gives you.) “Yeah, a lot of the Slushies have been asking me if I’m a kpop stan. My ult bias-” Hamzah throws his hands into the air dramatically as he sees you pull a small photocard out of your wallet. A familiar face makes him groan loudly, “Oh, don’t even get me started on this fool! I am sick and tired of seeing him everywhere!” You proudly show off the photocard to the camera despite Hamzah’s childish complaints. Martin leans over to take a look at the photo in your hands, “Bro, what’s the big deal? Is this like challenging your alphaness?” You laugh loudly and Hamzah smiles, betraying the annoyed facade he’s putting on, “No! He just haunts me. She knows when his birthday is and shit and what he ate for breakfast that day, like bro,” he turns to you, pointing at you accusingly, “You don’t ask what I eat for breakfast.” Martin grabs his shoulder, as if to calm him down, “Bro. You know what this means. You have to defend your woman.” Hamzah turns to Martin and before you can question them, they begin singing together and waving their arms in the air, “Shoot dat boy in da head, shoot dat boy in da head!” The episode ends with you deadpanning at the camera as they chant beside you.

don’t play this game at 3 am (not clickbait!!!)

Martin and Hamzah had listened to their viewers, your first feature on the channel being in a Resident Evil gameplay. The comments are filled with ‘i slushed everywhere when i saw yn in the thumbnail’ and ‘hamzah holding onto yn everytime there’s a jumpscare boyy aren’t u supposed to b da man?’ You sit between the two men who both inadvertently curl into you as the creepy aura permeates outside the game as well. Martin dramatically holds onto his head as you shoot bullets into the grossly looking zombies on the screen, “Oh, god they’re gonna eat us out! Quick, grab more ammo!” “Ok, I don’t think they’re gonna do all that-” They both jump as a loud, sharp groan comes from the speaker. Hamzah in particular lets out his signature high-pitched scream. Martin seems to break character and laughs aloud as Hamzah shakes his head in embarrassment, turning away from the camera so it won’t catch the bright blush on his cheeks when you coo at him. “Aww, did you pee yourself?” Martin tries to speak through laughter, “I think you did, dude there’s a wet spot-” Hamzah quickly denies it, “Ok, stop lying to all the slushies, bro, I did not pee myself. I’m sick of this, turn off this trash ass game-” “It’s ok, babe. I’ll protect you, I’m your Leon.” Martin waves a blushing Hamzah over, “Yeah, come on you big baby. It’s not even that scary-wait don’t go in there-“

vacation

Hamzah had convinced you to create your own channel, due to the growing comments begging him to convince you to do so. You hadn’t expected much, but it’d at least be a nice way to share sweet memories between the two of you. The vlog starts with you sat in front of your vanity, as you complete your routine. You talk animatedly about the vacation you’re on with your boyfriend, mentioning the beautiful sights you’ve seen and the delicious food you’ve had so far. You don’t notice but Hamzah walks into the room, quietly sneaking into view when he notices you’re filming. He’s too sweet to scare you on purpose, so he only places the bag of food in front of you and waves towards the camera, “Hiii, it’s me, Hamzah. Remember me?” You push him out of frame, “Ew, get your big head out of here!” The bottom half of his body remains in frame as you look up at him from the seat, “What?! This is how youtubers act behind the camera guys, leave hate comments below, please.” He leans down to be to your level, staring longingly as you get ready. He imagines this is how it feels to watch art being made. You don’t notice his blatant staring, “Tell them how nice it is here.” He’s pulled out of his thoughts with your voice, “Yeah, it’s pretty sweet. Think we’ll bring our kids here cause kids like beaches. Right?” You both seem to forget the camera is even there as you turn to him, “We should take them to Legoland.” He lets out a disbelieving laugh, “Really? That’s the best you got?” You give him a side eye that makes him laugh harder, “Ok, get out, this is my video.” Hamzah only waves at the camera before giving you a gentle kiss on top of your head and leaving. It’s barely in frame, but it’s enough to show the burning warmth he holds for you.

[yellowocaballero]

i very much enjoy the extremely scientific analysis of the naruto verse in which there are three genders, aka naruto, sasuke, and Woman.

AM I WRONG? AM I WRONG? pulls down projection screen and plays powerpoint

Obviously let's give room for nuance. A ton of Naruto characters don't fall into these gender norms. This does predominantly apply to the rampant proliferation of the three-person dynamics that were assigned by the government and dictate your entire life. And, like, society. It does not end. Gender isn't a biological factor in Naruto, it's a social dynamic constructed entirely by your homoerotic tension with other men. And there are so many.

Madara (S), Hashirama (N), Mito (W). Izuna (N) and Tobirama (S) - tragically, Izuna died before women could be invented. Sarutobi (N), Danzo (S, horrifically) - see above about women not being invented yet. Jiraiya (N), Orochimaru (S), Tsunade (W). Yahiko (N), Nagato (S), Konan (W). Obito (N), Kakashi (S), Rin (W). Shisui (N), Itachi (S), that little deeply unimportant girlfriend (W). Um, fucking, Naruto (N), Sasuke (S), Sakura (W). Even - even, fuckin, Rock Lee (N), Neiji (S), Tenten (W).

And what do they all have in common????

(OT3. They're all OT3s. Is what I'm saying).

There is some room for alternative gender expressions here, like being butch or femme. Naruto gender expressions: teacher, otouto, woman who you can't even tell is woman gendered because she has no backstory but you just have to kinda assume that she has a polycule-based backstory where she was Woman Gender. I feel almost as if 2/3rds of the Rookie 9 are liberated from this. InoShikaCho just doesn't fit (their chaotic cousin energy is just too strong and Ino's too much of a lesbian). Hinata's too busy being defined entirely by a different throuple's N to have codependent dynamics with her own N and S (and I'm hesitant to even say that, since I actually don't know if Kiba and Shino have a codependent rivalry - do they?).

I get, like, the reason for all of this. Curse of Hatred. Cycles. N and S Genders being sourced from demigods or something. Narrative parallelism. Sympathy points. It's not the bad guy's fault he's evil, his N and W gendered counterparts died :(. But an extremely strange side-effect of this is that all of the male characters are, like, Just Naruto or Just Sasuke. But the vast majority of the female characters are - like, completely defined by the men in their lives - but also they are more likely to be a unique person. Mito, Sakura, and Rin have actually nothing in common. Writing so sexist it creates more interesting characters?!?!

Unironically, this is why I'm always saying that Sasunaru is the ship of all time, nothing will ever top it, you will NEVER do it like Sasunaru, etc. Every important relationship in the series is meant to evoke Sasunaru. (Notably, none of the explicitly romantic ones. But we're beyond such paltry understandings of the most iconic pairing of all time as fundamentally based in romance. We're operating on a higher level than that). This unbroken chain of toxic yaoi has culminated at the end point of Sasunaru, and it exists to parallel Sasunaru and define their relationship by the dysfunction of generations of tragedy. That's why Naruto has to consciously break the cycle and free them from the generational hate - it was the only way to save Sasuke. This is also why I'm always saying that Sasunaru is the point of Naruto, and that the entirety of Naruto is about Sasunaru. Come back to me when your work has invented new genders in the all-encompassing pursuit of toxic yaoi.

This also means that the only truly gender non-conforming individuals in Naruto are its mightiest heterosexuals: Minato (W) and Kushina (N). Truly insane. The N/S/W configuration is the societal norm, it's bonkers to make a major good-aligned male character a wifeguy. By Naruto standards Minato and Kushina are the only queer couple.

[lakesparkles]

Posting this already because I have nothing else 😭

It's been a long time without evil polycule art, but don't think these three aren't in my mind all the time. Here are some doodles and, well, headcanons and headcanons.

The only way I see them getting together is way after the end of the anime, after many conversations and physical fights - you can't tell me Gideon and Julie wouldn't spend their free time annoying Matthew just because.

And, even it being the first time they have a relationship like this, with more than two people, it's still a closed one. They don't get jealous when it's each other (eh, most times), but they would never accept the other flirting with anyone out of the three. They're all jealous people in different levels, with Gideon pretty much feeling that Matthew and Julie belong to him (it's not only because I love him that I'll pretend he's not possessive).

Which means that, if another person would ever be part of their relationship, it'll only work if it's with all of them at the same time. So yeah, they're pretty sure this will never happen.

(I have a fanfiction idea with this topic and Ramona, but this is another story)

And the last two slides are just silly things:

They're tired and sleepy <3

And a quick sketch because I realized I made Gideon OOC in the second slide. He doesn't care about Envy.

[shuadotcom]

Stay ‘Till Sunrise | HJS + KMG (M)

☀ Summary: After years of pining and lusting over your best friends, your desperation finally gets the better of you and you decide enough is enough. Tonight is the night you’ll risk ruining the friendship to be with them in every way you can.

☀ Pairing: Joshua Hong x Fem!Reader x Kim Mingyu

☀ Genres & AUs: Smut, fluff, friends to lovers au, non!idol au, polyam au, porn with the barest of plots

☀ Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

☀ Warnings: Profanity (especially the f bomb), alcohol, oral (f. receiving), creampie, pussy slapping (like 3 times?), squirting, spanking, hair pulling, choking, double penetration, unprotected sex, anal (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), dirty talk, kinda dom!shua, switch!gyu, subby!reader, praise and pet names (babygirl, pretty girl, darling)

☀ Words: 9.1k

☀ Note: This was a dream I had that I needed to put together in fic form and write so it will leave my head!! It’s also inspired by Ruin The Friendship by Demi Lovato! Big thank you to @sun-kore​ for being my amazing, wonderful beta! ❤️ And thank you sosososo much @playmetheclassics​ \ @classicscreations​ for this beautiful banner that I’m still obsessed with!! 😍

Tagging the lovely @the-boy-meets-evil​ because she asked 💛

Okay, you can finally admit it: you want to fuck your best friends.

Well, you want to do more than that. You want Joshua and Mingyu to take you out on dates and call you pet names no matter how corny and old-school they are. You want Mingyu to make you romantic dinners to celebrate milestones together and you want Joshua to make you a beaded bracelet every birthday filled with heart shapes and pastel colors.

You want the three of you to spend lazy mornings laying in bed, sharing body warmth and cuddling until you get hungry or someone has to pee. You want to spend holidays and anniversaries with them. You want to hold Joshua’s perfect hands and place kisses on Mingyu's perfect nose and be the most sickeningly cute, perfect polycule with them.

Every time you see a couple doing cutesy, cheesy couple things your mind always wanders to Joshua and Mingyu, imagining the three of you doing it too and your heart feels so warm at the thought.

Of course, when all of your soft thoughts of light kisses and hand-holding drift away they’re replaced with some not-so-soft thoughts.

Thoughts of Joshua using his big hands to choke you while he fucks you into your mattress and images of Mingyu’s strong arms gripping your legs hard as he makes you cum on his face over and over again. Your laundry list of dirty things you want to do with the two of them is long and extensive but then again how could it not be when they look the way they do?

You’ve known them for five years thanks to your roommate Seungcheol who’s known them for longer. Somewhere after the year three mark of knowing them, feelings for the two men morphed from friendly love for your sweet friends who do nice things for you all of the time to the realization that all of these sweet things have stacked up in your heart to accumulate to the massive, embarrassing,  crush you have on them now.

You love your whole group of friends of course, but they’ve always been the sweetest and easiest to get along with. You can always laugh at the same things as them, eat the same foods, and open up to them more than any of your other friends. Joshua and Mingyu make you feel safe and loved and cared for so of course your heart was bound to belong to them both.

They also happen to be some of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen in your life.

Your eyes wander to Mingyu at this thought at his spot in the kitchen. He’s leaning back against the counter as he waits for the popcorn in the microwave. His arms are crossed as he scrolls on his phone and his long, dark hair hangs in his face. The slightly curly locks look soft and you know they are, seeing as you use every opportunity to playfully run your fingers through them.

He reaches up then, carding his fingers through the strands and you eye the wonderful way his biceps flex when he does, the sleeves of his t-shirt very noticeably hugging his arm. The arms that are so deliciously toned and hard that let you know just how strong Mingyu is and how easily he could probably toss you around and -

The ding of the microwave jolts you out of your long-running thirst thoughts about your friend. Joshua laughs from next to you, playfully poking your side.

“Did the microwave scare you?”

“I was zoning out!”

“Clearly. What were you even thinking about that hard?”

About one of my best friends absolutely wrecking my body in the most sinful of ways.

“Uh, my uh glass is empty. I was contemplating getting up for another drink.” You nod towards your empty glass on the coffee table, your skin burning up at getting caught fantasizing. It’s not a complete lie - before you were consumed with your constant Minshua fantasies, you had in fact been thinking about getting up for another drink.

But then Mingyu got up to make popcorn and you watched him walk away in his gray sweatpants at the same time that Joshua shifted on the couch and his thigh grazed yours and yeah. That’s how you ended up in such a daze.

“Oh, I’ll make you another.”

“No! You don’t have to!” You reach out to grab the glass before he can take it, but he simply bats your hand away and snatches it at the same time he gets up from the couch.

“Nope, I’m doing it.” He sends you a smile that has your heart doing cartwheels.

God, he’s so fucking sweet. You want to suck him off so badly.

“Me too?!” Mingyu points to his half-empty cup on the coffee table. He’s returned to his spot on the couch next to you, the bowl of popcorn balancing in one hand.

“What, are your legs broken? Guess you should’ve made it when you were up.”

“You’re mean!” Mingyu accuses, a pout forming on his face.

Joshua just chuckles at him, blowing him a kiss in response as he reaches the kitchen.

You’re so in love with them it’s disgusting.

He keeps a playful smile on his face as he makes your drink and it quickly morphs into determination as he eyes the different alcohols. You haven’t looked at him straight on since he and Mingyu arrived earlier in the evening for your bi-weekly movie night. You’re still both thanking and cursing the rest of your friend group for having plans and leaving you with your two biggest weaknesses tonight.

Joshua leans over the sink to rinse out your glass and the button-down he’s wearing - that’s already undone way too far in your opinion - exposes more of his smooth chest and it takes everything in you not to gape so openly. He’s nowhere as big as Mingyu, but you know for certain they’ve gone to the gym many times together and you know Joshua’s also built in a way that has you blushing and kicking your feet like a mad woman. He’s constantly wearing shirts that show off all of the honeyed skin of his neck, just begging to be covered in marks. And oh how badly do you want those marks to come from your lips and teeth.

“Can I put something else on?” Mingyu directs the question at both of you but is reaching over you already to grab the remote.

His body is so warm and he smells so good and you’re back to focusing on him again. The urge to reach out and cup his face just to gaze at him up close is strong, but you keep yourself composed.

“If you put on Spiderman one more time, I’m going to bite you,” you warn him, watching him open the search bar on the streaming menu.

“Come on! Every time we have movie night you and Shua try to put on too many scary movies!”

“The last one wasn’t even scary, it was just a thriller.” You roll your eyes at the man. “Don’t be a baby.” Your friends, especially you and Joshua, always tease the younger man about how whiny he gets when anyone puts anything remotely scary around him. Unfortunately for him, both you and Joshua love them and it’s two versus one tonight.

“It was a horror thriller! I saw the categories when it was over!” Mingyu continues leaning over you even after the remote is in his hand, so when he tilts his head back to look at you upside down, he’s so incredibly close enough to see every detail on his perfect face.

You’re the target of his pout this time, his plush lips looking oh-so inviting. Delusion kicks in at that moment and you swear you see Mingyu’s eye drift to your mouth too, neither of you moving away from one other.

Is he moving towards you right now? Kissing upside down seems hard and logistically, not that simple, but you’d never dream of rejecting Mingyu in this universe or any other.

“Move your big head!” Joshua interrupts whatever this was when he returns, waving your drink in front of your face. “Alright Y/n, I demand that you give me feedback on my bartending skills immediately.”

Mingyu jolts up, reaching quickly for a handful of popcorn and shoving it into his mouth. He gives Joshua a look that you can’t decipher. It’s quick and you nearly miss it, but it definitely looks like something. Ignoring it, you take your glass from Joshua, and he watches as you sip your drink, waiting for your verdict.

“It’s perfect,” you finally say and he breaks into a brilliant smile.

“I know.” He says rather smugly. “I always know what you like.” Joshua sends you a wink and you guess it’s that coupled with his words that conjure up a version of Joshua whispering that into your ear as he fucks you hard, knowing exactly how you like it and how to touch you.

To drown out the thirst and desperation in your head you start to chug the drink, aware of both men watching you gulp it down in record time.

“Be careful there, Y/n. I know it’s good but don’t get ahead of yourself.” Joshua’s hand finds your knee which doesn’t help you at all with the state that you’re in.

Clumsy hands reach out for the remote, announcing to them that you’ll be finding something to put on which steers the conversation into another debate of what to watch. You’re thankful for it because quite frankly, you need all the distractions you can get.

It’s nearly one in the morning when you suggest to them that they stay the night. None of you are drunk per se, but they are buzzed so driving home is off the table. Joshua suggests that they’ll take a rideshare since they don’t live far from each other, but you shoot that down.

“That’s stupid, just stay the night. We can keep hanging out.” You punctuate your words with your best pout to lay it on thick. To be honest, you’ve been debating all night if you want to make any moves to suggest you want to do more with them than watch movies but you haven’t decided yet and want a little more time. Plus you just don’t want to stop being around them.

“Fine, we'll stay.” Joshua decides for both of them. It hadn’t taken long at all for him to give in.

“Good!”

With that settled, you all take a movie intermission for bathroom breaks and showers before resuming. Since you’re in for the night you want to be more comfortable - and you need a second to try and get your mind sorted.

This wouldn’t be the first time that any of your guy friends stayed at your apartment for various reasons, so you’re able to fish out some extra sweats and shirts for them that have been left behind for various reasons.

Once you’re in your room with your door shut tight you pull off your clothes and get ready to shower. Now more than ever you’re thankful that when you and Seungcheol played rock, paper scissors to see who’d get the master bedroom, you won.

Speaking of your roommate, you think about him and send a text message as the water for your shower warms up. He went home for his brother’s birthday which gave you the blessing and the curse of being alone with the two men who are showering only a few feet away from you.

[Y/n] Cheol, are you up?

[Choi Seungcheollie] Yeah I’m up. The party is still raging on and my brother is absolutely wasted. He’s this close to getting us kicked out of this club 🙄

[Choi Seungcheollie] Why are you still up? Did Mingyu and Joshua leave already?

[Y/n] No, they're sleeping over. We’re not drunk off our asses but they def can’t be driving

[Choi Seungcheollie] They’re sleeping over huh? 🤔

[Choi Seungcheollie] Is tonight the night you’ll finally become the meat in the Mingyu and Joshua sandwich of your dreams?????

[Y/n] Stopppppppp I’m scared 😩 If I confess and they don’t feel the same our friendship is fucked you know this

[Choi Seungcheollie] You’re so dramatic. They worship the ground you walk on already, remember? Ask anyone.

[Choi Seungcheollie] Text Jeonghan I’m sure he’ll tell you the same

You most certainly will not be texting Jeonghan. You may also be close to him, but he still won’t hesitate to blackmail you to confess if he knew your current situation.

[Y/n] I’d rather risk potentially ruining the friendship myself than get that fucking villain involved

[Choi Seungcheollie] Fair point. Then all I’ll say is to just DO IT. It’ll go fine. You’ve been pining over them for literal years and I know these guys. This won’t be the end of your friendship.

[Choi Seungcheollie] Maybe just start with something small and see how they react.

You roll Seungcheol’s words around in your head. The desire weighing heavy in your stomach for them is the most it’s been in a long time. The fear of rejection and driving a wedge in between the three of you has kept your mouth shut all this time, but you’re really going through it tonight with the way you’re quite literally craving them. If you can come up with something small then it could be easier for you to read them.

[Y/n] Fine, I'll figure something out. If I get my heart broken expect a hysterical voice memo later!!

[Choi Seungcheollie] Good luck, Y/n! I’ll be here if you need me ❤️

After taking a quick shower, you finally decide the best course of action is your choice of pajamas. Instead of the cute cow set that you bought recently you decide on a black cotton night shirt that stops somewhere under your asscheeks with the matching panties that can easily be seen when you bend over - even just a little bit. Seungcheol said something subtle and you feel as though seducing them in your underwear is the most blatant yet wordless way of doing so.

Giving yourself a quick once over, you decide that forgoing a bralette is the most logical choice for your desired endgame, and make your way back out into the living room. Both men are on the couch looking at something on Mingyu’s phone when you enter and you watch as Joshua does a double take when looking up at you. He tries to subtly get Mingyu to notice you, but the latter isn’t too good with that, so Mingyu’s eyes on you are much more obvious.

“You guys showered already?” Your question is innocent, as is the way you ease into your seat between them. But, you do go out of your way to lift your night shirt so you don’t sit on it, exposing your panties as you sit.

“Yeah. We were just trying to decide if we wanted to order food.” Joshua’s words sound a little distant and a glance out of the corner of your eye tells you why. His gaze keeps darting between the tv and the expanse of your thighs that are exposed. The nightshirt is already short, but it’s risen nearly to the tops of your thighs when sitting. On your other side, Mingyu’s phone is still in front of his face but he’s doing a terrible job at pretending he isn’t looking at you.

Putting on a short shirt was the best plan of action you could conjure up on the fly, but it seems to be working.

“Up to you guys. I’ve got more snacks if you don’t wanna wait.” Both men make noises of acknowledgment but don’t make another move other than Joshua resuming to flip through Netflix.

Not a single part of you is paying attention to what Joshua puts on tv. It’s an anime you’ve seen but the men on either side of you are all you focus on. You’re no femme fatale in the slightest and your flirting could use some serious work, but you’d like to think their change in demeanor is a good thing. You continue shifting on the couch so that different parts of you graze against the two of them and each man reacts, albeit differently.

Mingyu lets out a lot of stifled sounds of surprise while Joshua clears his throat each time an arm or leg touches him but neither of them moves away or tries to create distance which keeps your small bout of confidence from fizzling out.

Eventually, your urge to make a bolder move is strong so you decide to be a little more blatant.

“I’m gonna grab a snack, do you guys want anything?”

“Nope.”

“No.” They rush their answers out in unison and you can’t help but smile to yourself.

You pull yourself up from the couch slowly, leaning forward as you do so the back of your shirt rides up and you know for sure your panties are visible. To up the ante, you drop your phone on the floor in front of the couch.

“Oops.” Before you can talk yourself out of it, you hold your breath and bend at the waist to pick it up, ass on full display. Mingyu lets out what sounds like a whimper from behind you, but you’re too nervous to turn around so phone in hand, you beeline for the kitchen, your back still turned to them.

Nerves are starting to outweigh the rush of horniness the night has brought you. What if you throw yourself at them and they completely turn you away? What if you do too much and it makes one or both of them so uncomfortable that it ruins your dynamic? The end result of the idea of confessing to them loops back around as it always does and you’re close to backing out as you always do and retreating to the safety of your room where you can daydream of what-ifs and touch yourself in peace.

“Hey, Y/n,” You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of Mingyu’s voice so close behind you. You hadn’t even heard him approach but you very much feel him. His broad chest is pressed against your back, his body heat rolling off of him in waves.

“H-hey,” Hopefully he doesn’t hear the way your voice trembles.

“You’ve been standing here for a while. Do you need help getting something?”

Truth be told, you have no idea how long exactly you’ve been standing in front of the cabinet. At the moment your brain is having trouble keeping up with much of anything other than how close your best friend is to you.

“Uh, um,” your eyes dart to the open cabinet in front of you, landing on the bag of cookies that are on a top shelf, out of your reach. When you say this to Mingyu, he leans forward, his torso pushing against yours, effectively pinning you against the counter as he reaches over your head. He smells so good and feels so warm and firm, your head is dizzy at all of these sensations hitting you at once.

“Here.” Minygu brings the bag of cookies to your eyesight, the snack right in front of you, but neither of you moves. Both of you seem to be holding your breath, waiting for the other to do something.

“Mingyu, I -” Your sentence ends with a choke as Mingyu jolts his hips forward, the bulge in his sweatpants poking you.

He retracts his hips quickly, almost so quickly that for a second you nearly believe maybe it didn’t happen, but you know what you felt. That’s why you decide in an instant to move your hips back to meet his crotch. Mingyu makes a hissing noise behind you, but again, neither of you moves away.

“Hey, we had a deal!” Joshua’s voice is what finally has you and Mingyu separating, the forgotten bag of cookies falling to the floor.

“Shit, sorry! I couldn’t help it!” Mingyu stamps his foot on the ground. You’d have found the gesture cute if you weren’t so confused.

“A deal?” You pipe up, neither man hearing you.

“I knew when you came into the kitchen you couldn’t be trusted.”

“I really did want to come to get something to drink! I just got distracted because she’s wearing that!”

“Likely story.”

“What are you guys talking about?!” You yell, both of them finally paying attention to you. They exchange a look. “And don’t do that annoying man telekinesis shit. I saw you do it earlier tonight  - tell me the truth!”

“We agreed that neither of us would go after you since we both like you!” Mingyu blurts in a rush, unable to meet your eyes.

“You what?”

“We just didn’t wanna fuck up our friendship with each other and you of course. We care about you and didn’t want to make things messy.”

Blinking at Joshua’s words, the wheels in your head work overdrive to comprehend what they’re saying.

“I’m sorry, you both like me?”

“I know it sounds weird, I got drunk at Chan’s birthday party last year and told Joshua when you were dancing with Soonyoung.”

“And then I told him I liked you too because I was also drunk and we promised neither of us would act on it and just hope our crushes went away.”

Wordlessly, you take in their confessions. You can’t believe you’ve been breaking your own heart this whole time. Ignoring your feelings, stressing over them, willing them gone for nothing. And to think, you wanted to seduce them so badly tonight when all you probably had to do was tell them and they’d take care of you.

“You’re not mad at us, right? I’m sorry if you think we’re creepy or whatever, we can totally leave!” Mingyu looks like a kicked puppy as he anticipates your answer, likely expecting a negative response.

“You guys are not leaving.” You finally say, both men looking surprised. “I’ve been talking myself out of liking you two for the last like two years and you’ve been into me this whole time. There’s no way I’m going to let you just leave after we’ve gotten all this out in the open.”

“I - you like us too? Both of us?” Joshua looks as surprised as you probably do.

“Both of you. A lot.” They share another look.

“So… what do we do?” Joshua starts. “I mean I’m fucking stoked that you just said that, but what do we actually do?”

“I’m open to the three of us, you know, being a thing.”

“Like, you date me, but also Joshua and we all date each other?” You nod at Mingyu’s words, holding your breath at their reaction.

A beat of silence goes by, neither man speaking before Joshua decides.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” You and Mingyu ask in unison.

“Okay, we can all date. It’s a win-win-win. I get to call Y/n my girlfriend finally and Mingyu is lucky enough to say he’s dating a catch like me.”

“Yah, you’re the lucky one! Do you how many people wanna date me? I’m a model for a reason, thank you very much.”

“Posting selfies and outfit of the day TikToks doesn’t make you a model, Gyu.”

“If I get paid to show this face then it’s modeling! Don’t be a hater.” Mingyu clicks his tongue.

“Hey!” Again you interrupt their bickering. “I really, really like both of you so much and I want to do so many dumb boyfriend-girlfriend things with y’all, and we can work out the dynamics of this whole thing tomorrow, but right now I am so insanely horny and I’d really like it if you guys could fuck me.”

Your best friends - now boyfriends? - gape at you and take too long to respond, so to speed things along you close your eyes and start to lift your nightshirt, stopping to expose your bare breasts to them. Both sets of brown eyes in front of you take in your half-naked form.

“Please,” you whine, peeking an eye open. You don’t care who moves first - you just wish one of them would.

Something in Joshua’s expression changes and his usual sweet face turns dark as he crosses the small distance between you two, his hands cupping your face as he smashes your lips together.

Kissing Joshua is heavier than you anticipate. His lips easily and skillfully take over yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth without much resistance on your end. Your body presses forward against his like a magnet and you need to grip his shirt to steady yourself against him. He holds your face with a tenderness that is a stark contrast to the way he’s desperately ravishing your lips.

“Fuck, I’m finally kissing you,” Joshua sighs in between kisses and you hum in agreement.

You get lost in the whirlwind that is finally making out with Joshua, but the feeling of another set of hands on your body snaps you back to reality. Mingyu has silently met the two of you in the middle of the kitchen, efficiently trapping you between both men. His just as soft lips ghost over your neck as his arms, almost trembling, wrap around your waist.

Mingyu has always been one of the softest men you’ve ever known. He’s a big boy with big arms and an even bigger heart. You can feel the nervousness and hesitancy radiating off of him. Prying your fingers from the death grip they have on Joshua’s shirt, you move one hand down to lie on top of Mingyu’s. Immediately your fingers slip between his to grip his hand tightly and let him know how okay with this you are and how safe he is here with all of you together like this.

It must’ve been the reassurance he needs because the next thing you feel is Mingyu’s teeth as they begin nibbling harder at the skin on your neck, clearly intending to leave marks. He pulls your hips back so you meet his erection digging into your lower back.

A whimper escapes you as your brain teeters on the brink of shutting off the more Mingyu leaves you reminders of tonight and the more Joshua kisses every breath out of you.

At some point, Joshua finally comes up for air, both of you panting for dear life. Mingyu spins you around and replaces Joshua’s mouth with his, his hands opting to grip your hips as he melds his lips with yours. Where Joshua’s kiss was dominant and thoughtful, Mingyu’s is soft yet desperate. Between moments to breathe, he slips in little nibbles on your bottom lip and kisses you as if he’ll never get another chance, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

Your fingers dart up to tangle in his midnight hair, tugging on the soft strands by the root.

“Fuck, Y/n…” Your name falls from Mingyu’s mouth in a groan and it’s probably the best thing you’ve heard in your life.

Wanting to hear it once more, you pull again, and he whimpers your name again. You go in for a third time, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, Mingyu swoops down with lips still attached to yours as he grabs hold of your thighs and quickly scoops you up off of the ground, plopping you on the kitchen counter.

“Wanna taste you so bad.” Mingyu pleads between kisses. His words shoot straight to your pussy and you nod your head so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash.

The sound of Joshua’s chuckle draws your attention up and to him. As Mingyu kisses down your body, inching your panties down on the way, Joshua holds your gaze.

He’s a sight directly out of your usual fantasies. A red hue fans out across the expanse of his neck, up to his round cheekbones, and reaches his pouty lips as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. Your eyes desperately follow his hand as it reaches up to push back his already messy hair, then moves back down to grip his obvious erection. He rubs himself a few times through his sweatpants, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Shua…” You mewl, hand feebly reaching for him.

“What is it, pretty girl?”

You falter at the pet name that falls from his lips so easily - and in a tone that you’re not used to from him.

“I - I want you. I - ohhhhh.”

Mingyu’s lips wrap around your clit and suck hard - any semblance of a sentence you had in mind withers away. His fingers dig into your thighs to keep a grip on you as his thick tongue alternates between lapping at your clit and darting in and out of you. The sounds of Mingyu eating you out like a man starved fills the kitchen, making you dizzy.

“Fuck, Gyu!” Mingyu’s tongue is sinful as he laps at you, making a mess of you even more than you already are. “So good….you’re so good.” Your hands find Mingyu’s hair and tug on the strands again causing the younger man to moan into you as he starts eating you out even rougher, his teeth nipping at your sticky skin and his nose bumping into your clit.

Joshua is next to you suddenly, his soft hands running up your thighs and under your nightshirt. He eases the fabric off of you and tosses it elsewhere. He’s immediately cupping your face again, pulling you in to capture your lips once more. His other hand moves down to grab your breast, kneading and squeezing with the right force to have you panting in his mouth.

Having both men on you like this, touching you everywhere you need it, kissing you everywhere you need it, has you approaching your orgasm quicker than you think you ever have before.

“Gyu baby, Shua, fuck, I-I’m gonna -” For the second time tonight they have you faltering, this time it’s because Joshua pulls away at the same time that he grips Mingyu’s hair and yanks his head from between your legs. Mingyu lets out a groan that meshes with your noise of frustration.

“Why?!” The man still kneeling pouts, looking almost devastated.

“I think this’ll work best in Y/n’s bedroom.” The words barely leave Joshua’s mouth before Mingyu is clambering up from the floor, lifting you from the counter, and placing you onto the floor. He intertwines your fingers and practically drags you to your bedroom.

“Mingyu, there’s no rush!” You try and reassure him, but he has you on your bed almost immediately as you enter the room and is kissing you again.

“I know, baby girl, but I need you so bad. I’ve dreamed about eating you out for fucking ever and you taste so good and I just need to do it before I explode.”

You can’t argue with that so after one more bruising kiss, Mingyu shuffles down the bed and gets comfortable between your legs before diving back in, his tongue thrusting into you once more. Who are you to deny a beautiful man practically begging to eat your pussy? Plus if Mingyu keeps calling you baby girl the way he did, you’ll let him do damn near anything.

Joshua comes into the room then, eyes fixated on the sight before him. You have enough strength amidst Mingyu consuming your soul through your coochie to reach out and stop Joshua before he climbs onto the bed.

“C-clothes off. It’s not - ahh - uh, it’s not fair th-that I’m the only one naked.” Your sentence is capped off with a moan as Mingyu sucks particularly hard.

“Hmmm. I should make you ask me nicer than that,” Joshua teases, pretending to think but it’s only for a second. “But I think I’ll let it slide this time. Next time I won’t be so nice.” The smirk he sends your way is lethal and has you clenching around Mingyu’s eager tongue.

Joshua makes quick work of pulling off his shirt and pants. You can barely marvel at the expanse of the smooth skin of his abs and the sheer size of his cock because Mingyu makes you cum then.

“Oh fuck, yes!” It hits you like a train and your body tingles as you cry out his name. You grip your sheets so hard that your fingers hurt as he peppers kisses all over your pussy, moaning after each smooch.

“You sound so good when you cum, pretty girl. Doesn’t she, Gyu?”

“Fuck, yeah. She does.”

“I wanna hear you cum again, darling. Can you do that for us?” Joshua’s tone is full of honey and sweetness as he licks his fingers and brings them to your clit. You nearly leap off the bed as he begins rubbing circles against you, wetness pooling between your legs as soon as he finds a steady pace.

“Joshua!” You squirm under his touch, both wanting him to stop due to the sensitivity and silently begging him for more.

“I think she wants more, Shua.” Mingyu muses, his breath feeling dangerously close to your inner thigh again.

“Oh yeah? Is that what you want, darling?”

“Mmhmm! Please!”

“Please what?” You wrench your eyes open to look down at them. Mingyu apparently shed his clothes in the time it took for your post-orgasm haze to clear. His hair is a mess and his pupils are blown wide as he stares, eyes darting between your core and your face. Joshua on the other hand is only staring right at you, his brown eyes full of desire as he skillfully rubs your clit, waiting for your response.

“P-please make me cum again,” it’s more a mumble than anything, feeling flustered at having both of them with their attention on you.

In response to the feeble attempt at begging, Joshua smacks your mound, the sting rushing through you deliciously. “You can do better than that, pretty girl. Wanna try again?” Another sharp smack follows and you squeal.

“Please, please make me cum again!” It’s almost a sob this time which seems to please Joshua because the next thing you feel is one of his long fingers slipping into your entrance, immediately having you buck your hips to meet his hand.

“So needy,” he coos at you, heat spreading over you even more, this time in embarrassment.

It doesn’t take long for Joshua to be able to slip another finger in, stretching you out even more. As he fucks you with his fingers, leaving you panting like an animal underneath him, he adjusts his position on his knees and leans up to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Fuuuuuuck!” Your second orgasm is fast approaching with the added stimulation, but it’s not until Mingyu decides to lean down and once again suction his mouth over your clit do you arch almost painfully off the bed, a garble of curses all that’s able to leave your mouth. The heat pools in your belly hot and heavy and this time it feels so much more intense than the first.

This time when you cum, an honest to god shriek rips from you, everything feels too fucking good and your senses going into overdrive. You feel your orgasm spilling out of you as you squirt for maybe only the second time in your life.

“Holy shit, Y/n. You just squirted all over me,” Mingyu marvels.

“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen” Joshua finishes and Mingyu hums in agreement. You’re aware that they’re praising you and you’re giddy about it as the fog in your brain settles and eases away.

“How are you feeling, baby girl?” Mingyu checks in with you after you’ve had time to come down. “Do you want to stop? Because we definitely can.”

“Yeah, this can be it for tonight if you want it to be.”

“No!” You tiredly object, shaking your head furiously. “I’ve wanted this forever. Please fuck me? Shua, Gyu - ‘want you both so bad.” You hope your words convey your need for both of them, adding in a low-effort pout for good measure.

They both look at each other, having another one of their telepathic conversations without you. Instead of saying anything, you open your knees, sopping cunt on display to show them just how much you mean what you say.

A few seconds tick by before Joshua speaks. “Who do you want first?”

“Both of you.”

“Are you sure?”

“A thousand, million times yes. Please don’t make me beg anymore, you said you were being nice to me this time.” You hope you’re batting your eyelashes enough to encourage them to scoop you up and finally do something.

Thankfully it works as both men move into action, maneuvering you and themselves into a position that works best. You all agreed on no condoms since you’re all clean and you’re well-protected yourself.

Joshua’s underneath you as you straddle him, his lips moving sloppily against yours as Mingyu kneels behind you. Joshua has done a good job of distracting you with groping and kissing as Mingyu preps you, already one finger deep in your ass.

When he adds more lube and eases in a second finger, you hiss against Joshua’s mouth at the added stretch.

“Ssh, you’re doing so good pretty girl.” More praise is sung by Joshua as he massages your tits.

“Our good, pretty girl,” Mingyu adds from behind, the other hand that isn’t working you open rubs, and gently kneads your ass cheeks, both men working to relax you.

Their words and touches help, and soon, Mingyu is pulling his fingers from you and tapping the swollen, lubed-up head of his dick against your puckered hole.

“I’ll go slow,” he reassures you as he does. Slowly, he starts to push into you, this stretch stinging so much more. When you let a whimper slip, Joshua’s hold around your middle tightens, keeping you close to him and peppering your face in kisses.

Fuck, Mingyu is big. You finally had a chance to see what you were in for as you were all getting into position and this would certainly be a feat for you - quickly seeing how literally everything about Mingyu is big. You already knew this would be a stretch you’ve never felt.

Mingyu is true to his word and pushes into you gradually, inch by tantalizing inch. It seems like hours go by before he’s fully sheathed inside of you, neither of you moving until everyone is in position.

“Doing okay, darling?” Taking a deep breath you nod at Joshua and he gives you another kiss before lifting his hips, lining himself up with your pussy, and pushing in, just as carefully as Mingyu had. Joshua’s cock isn’t as big as Mingyu, but it’s still impressive enough and plenty thick, the girth alone stretching your walls almost painfully.

Once he’s buried in all the way, no one moves, letting you adjust. Your eyes slip closed as you register how impossibly full you feel and take in how heavy all of you are breathing as you wait.

“Please move,” you finally stutter.

Both of them give your body a shallow thrust to test and that alone has a long, drawn-out moan spilling out of you. Gradually, their thrusts get faster and rougher, giving you more and more until they’re both full-on drilling into you, your body jolting back and forth so fast you can barely keep up.

The wet, squishing sounds of your arousal and the lube fill the room along with the smacks of skin on skin and the harsh spanks Mingyu has started leaving on your ass.

“You’re taking us so well, baby girl,” Mingyu pants out, his hands feeling like fire as they press indents into your skin.

“So, so well, pretty girl. I didn’t know you could take two cocks at the same time,” Joshua’s words are breathy as he bucks his hips up into yours, but they’re no less dirty and teasing.

“I-I’m so f-full…” To your ears, your words sound like gibberish as they both find the perfect rhythm that has your eyes rolling back.

“Yeah? You like being stuffed like this? Two cocks shoved inside of you?” Joshua’s hands are still wrapped around you to hold you steady, punctuating his words with sharp rolls of his hips.

“You like both of us abusing your tight little holes?” Those words come from Mingyu and are punctuated with his fingers in your hair this time, his nails scraping your scalp.

“Yes! Fuck yes, fill me up,” The all too familiar heat starts to churn in your stomach, your walls clenching around both of them as you feel your orgasm brewing. “I’m so fucking close, please!” It’s a needy cry but both of them hear you, their paces becoming quicker and rougher. Mingyu’s fingers stayed buried in your hair, pulling you up just enough to expose your neck. One of Joshua’s big hands moves to grip your neck, using it for leverage to snap his hips up more.

“Gonna cum for us again, pretty girl?” You can’t nod well with his hand where it is, but you hope he at least hears the ‘yes’ that you rasp out between the whines and moans you’ve been letting out.

Your hands, which have been holding you up, start to wobble at the force they’re fucking into you, but you still do your best to move one up to rest over Joshua’s still on your neck. You squeeze around it to try and indicate to him what you want.

“Oh? I think our girl likes to be choked, Gyu.” Involuntarily, you clench and Joshua falters in his pace a little. “Fuck, she just squeezed me so hard - that must be a yes.”

“I think she likes getting her hair pulled too.” Mingyu tugs hard at his words and you manage out a pathetic squeak in response.

Now that they both know what you like, they don’t hold back as they take you to the end. Mingyu tugs your hair so hard it burns, but you like the pain so it pushes you closer.

“Oh, oh oh! Gonna c-cum!” And then you do, with Joshua’s fingers around your neck tightening, succeeding in cutting off your air as you cum for a third time. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, fireworks exploding behind clenched eyelids, and your body goes rigid as the pleasure engulfs you.

“Shit… fuck!” Mingyu cums right after you, not bothering to pull out as he shoots his hot load into you. His groans turn into breathless sighs of your name until he begins slowing down, fucking his cum back into with shallow thrusts.

When Joshua cums next, he releases the grip on your neck so you can greedily gulp air back into your lungs. Both of Joshua’s hands hold your thighs, his nails biting into the skin, as he bucks up into you one, two, three more times before pulling out and cumming between your bodies. His whines are just as desperate as you and Mingyu’s as he empties himself, relishing in the feeling of his dick pressed between your sticky bodies.

Your shared, ragged breaths fill the room, their hips slowing to a leisurely pace until eventually, they stop moving altogether. Mingyu takes his time easing himself out of you and you feel his cum trickle down your ass, earning a groan from behind you. Now that you’re empty again, your eyelids fall shut, draping yourself completely over Joshua’s body.

You hear him chuckle from under you, your body wants so badly to drift off to sleep.

He can tell, because Joshua doesn’t let you do so, telling you everyone needs to clean up first. You try to object, wanting to power down right there, but they will hear nothing of it.

Mingyu is tasked with taking you to the shower and cleaning you up while Joshua changes your extremely soiled sheets. You spend most of the shower leaning against Mingyu’s chest, but he’s more than happy to do most of the work to clean you.

Joshua comes in at some point and fits himself into the small shower with both of you, sandwiching you between both men once again. His gentle hands rub circles on your back, applying light pressure to your sorest muscles.

When everyone is clean again, Mingyu helps you out of the shower and wraps you in a towel, starting to dry you off. He removes your shower cap - which you luckily weren’t too fucked out to forget to tell him you needed - and leans down to place a small kiss on your nose. Mingyu smiles from ear to ear at the giggle you let out and he can’t help but give you a few more pecks all over the rest of your face.

He and Joshua help you back to your bedroom and you immediately crawl into bed, your satin pillowcase practically calling your name.

“Wait, Y/n, what pajamas do you want?”

Shaking your head at Joshua, you finally reach the top of your sheets and burrow into the bed. “No pajamas. I usually sleep naked when Cheol is out of the apartment.”

“Say no more!” Mingyu flops himself down onto the bed without a second thought, efficiently trapping you under the covers.

“Gyu, let me out!”

“Not until you say something nice to me!”

You let out a laugh and feel around the covers to try and find his sides. “Now it makes sense why you always want to be babied - you have a praise kink!” When you find what feels like his toned torso, you grab at him, tickling him the best you can through the fabric.

Mingyu lets out a shrill yelp and flings himself off of the bed to avoid your hands. Joshua bursts into laughter along with you and moves to uncover you from the bed linen. Your first sight is his beautiful smile, his eyes crinkling into the most perfect half-moon shapes. Whenever Joshua looks at you like this - his most beautiful, carefree self - you want so badly to kiss him and experience the moment with him. This time, you remember that now you can do that and so you do. Without a second thought, Joshua is kissing you back, a smile still on his lips as you melt into him. Everything about tonight has felt so perfect - especially this moment right here.

“Hey, me next!” Mingyu whines as the bed dips next to you as he climbs under the covers. You and Joshua pull away, the stars in his eyes twinkling at you, and he lets you go to give your attention to Mingyu.

“I didn’t realize I was getting such a bratty boyfriend,” you tease as you turn to face him, his arms zipping out to wrap around you and pull you close.

“Don’t act so surprised. You’ve known me long enough that you should’ve known. And now it’s too late and you’re stuck with me!” Mingyu winks at you, swooping down to kiss you. It’s true - your beautiful boy has been a big baby from the first day you met him when he whined to Wonwoo about sharing one of his books with him.

“You’re lucky I think you’re too cute to say no to you.” You get the words out in between kisses and chuckles.

“You say that as if you don’t use your cuteness for evil just like him.” Joshua accuses as he flips off the bedroom light, your automatic nightlight across the room glowing a soft orange. He’s last to climb into bed, moving to spoon you with an arm around your waist.

“When do I do that?!”

Scoffing, he gives you a pointed look as he leans on his elbow to look down at you. “All the time! Yesterday when we were at that sushi place you batted your cute little eyelashes at me every time my sushi got to the table and you wanted a taste.” Okay, he’s got you there - you had intentionally pulled out the big guns to taste everything new he ordered.

“Yeah well, maybe you shouldn’t let yourself be swayed so easily.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you just victim-blamed me!”

“And I’ll do it again!”

Mingyu cracks up, his whole body shaking as he laughs.

“Hey, don’t encourage her!”

“But she’s funny and cute!”

“Tsk, tsk. Don’t be so defiant baby boy.” Mingyu chokes on his spit at Joshua’s teasing, staring wide-eyed at the older man from over your head.

“You’re so evil! I remember when you first moved to Korea - you were so sweet! I blame Jeonghan!”

“How about all of us are equally cute and Jeonghan is the root of all evil and now we can go to bed okay? Y’all bicker too loudly to sleep through.” You efficiently silence them, Mingyu sticking his tongue out at Joshua in the dim light but that’s the end of it. Goodnights are passed around and you get two goodnight kisses, one on your forehead and one on your cheek. That’s all you need to fall asleep, surrounded by so much warmth.

Sunlight peeks through your blinds in the morning and when you adjust in your sleep, it leaks through your eyelids. You squint your eyes open a crack, glaring at the offending rays. After blinking a few times to adjust to the light, you glance down, smiling warmly at the sight. Mingyu’s much larger body is attached to your side, his long limbs wrapped and tangled in yours. You can’t see his face from this angle, but his slow breathing lets you know he’s still asleep, shuffling just a bit as he snuggles closer into your chest.

You turn your head to the opposite side, both to get away from the streaks of the sun and to see Joshua’s sleeping face. His eyes are still closed, and the corner of his plush lips are curled up a little, even as he’s dreaming. For what feels like the hundredth time since last night, you’ve felt like this whole thing is a dream, finally having the men you care about the most here with you like this.

“Morning, pretty girl,” Joshua whispers suddenly and you can’t help but jump. You hadn’t realized you had zoned out staring at him.

“Morning, Shua.” He opens his eyes and meets yours, your skin heating up under his gaze. “I didn’t mean to stare!”

“Oh, that’s too bad because I was staring at you on purpose before you woke up.” He winks at you, succeeding in flustering you.

“You’re just going to spend this whole relationship being a worse flirt than you were before last night aren’t you!”

“Mmhmm. And just like Gyu said, it’s too late and you’re stuck with me!” Joshua’s expression turns wicked, mischief clear on his face.

“Shua no, Gyu’s still asleep!” Joshua doesn’t listen, because of course he doesn’t, and digs his fingers into your sides, tickling you. “N-No!” You can’t help but scream, trying to squirm away from him.

Your sudden yell has Mingyu’s head springing up, bleary-eyed but still panicking. “What’s going on?!”

A sudden commotion in the hallway catches your attention and Seungcheol comes barrelling into your open room, hands raised in fight mode. “Y/n are you alright?!” He freezes when he sees you, Mingyu, and Joshua, wrapped up in your sheets, also frozen and staring back at him. “Oh. I thought you were being hurt.” His tone is flat as he drops his fists.

“Cheol, you’re back early! I thought you wouldn’t be back until the evening.” His lack of reaction upon walking into this has some of your embarrassment starting to ebb away.

“Yeah, my brother and I had a fight so I ended up leaving early. I just got home a few minutes ago.”

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Your roommate snorts, his eyebrows raising at you. “You don’t exactly seem to be in the position to talk about my feelings, Y/n.”

“Oh. Well, give me a few minutes and we’ll get up and we can come sit down with you!”

“Nah, Jeonghan is expecting me at his place. I was texting him last night about our fight so he said I can come over when I got in. I just wanted to drop my suitcase off.”

“You texted him first about the fight?! Why not me?!” You huff at him. Seungcheol always confided in you first - since you lived together it just came naturally that you vent to each other first when something upsets you.

“Now be for real, Y/n - you were clearly quite busy after we texted last. Would you have answered me if I texted you at like three?” The struggle to try and remember when exactly Mingyu had started eating you out in the kitchen is real and you can’t come up even a guess of what time that was. “That’s what I thought. See you kids later and stay safe!”

The three of you say your goodbyes, listening to his retreating footsteps before you hear him stop.

“Oh, and if you get a bunch of messages in the group chat all of a sudden, you may wanna just mute it.” He calls down the hall.

Frowning, you share a look with Mingyu and Joshua before answering. “What? Why?”

You almost ask him again, thinking he left without answering, but then he quickly rushes the answer. “Because Jeonghan started a betting pool when he figured out - on his own may I add - that you liked Joshua and Mingyu and he wanted to see how long it would take you to confess to them and I have to tell him he lost!” He speaks fast, but you still hear every word.

“He what?! Seungcheol get back here!” Instead of an answer, he sounds as if he runs down the hall and a second goes by before the front door opens and then closes.

It’s just like you said - Jeonghan is the root of all evil. You fully intend on sending him a scathing text message, but then Mingyu starts kissing your shoulder and neck at the same time that Joshua begins drawing slow yet deliberate patterns over your thighs and hips. They probably sense your aggravation and are easily intending to redirect you. Mingyu also mentions something about making you breakfast in between smooches which also diverts your attention - your empty stomach very noticeable.

Their distraction tactics work of course because soon your mind is redirected to Joshua and Mingyu only and no one else. You’ll deal with the rest of the world later - your ain’t shit friend included - deciding to instead focus on the two beautiful men you get to not only stay friends with but also that you get to be so much more with, which feels like a dream within itself.