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It's the podpolyamory fic I needed. Short, sweet, come and get it
#sherlock & co#john watson#sherlock holmes#mariana ametxazurra#marijohnlock#team polycule#polyamory negotiations
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broke my 3 year dry spell with this one lads
arrowverse, felicity/oliver/barry/iris/kara, i might be embarrassed by it but that doesn’t mean it ain’t good
#arrowverse#i’m afraid to tag in any of the ships lmao#it’s a polyamorous mess don’t worry about it#polyamory negotiations#polyamory
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An Awkward Mess - Polyamory Negotiations
Alright. People who know me, knew this one was coming. But after the entire Beware Of Side-Effects story, there needed to be some polyamory negotiations. So, have fun with Trevor figuring out his feelings towards Greta in this one, while hung over from a magic potion.
#castlevania#castlevania netflix#castlevania fanfiction#trevor x sypha x alucard x greta#trevor x greta#one braincell#polyamory#polyamory negotiations#slice of life
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fic: trilateral reciprocation
Trilateral Reciprocation on ao3 (Star Trek Discovery: Michael Burnham/Katrina Cornwell/Laira Rillak).
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Michael Burnham/Katrina Cornwell/Laira Rillak Characters: Katrina Cornwell, Michael Burnham, Laira Rillak Additional Tags: Polyamory Negotiations, in the very early stages
Summary: Sometimes Kat feels like she left all her emotions in the 23rd century, because she feels as out of place in her own heart as she does in the far future. Michael's so much better at being in this time period that she knows how to flirt with the president. Kat remembers flirting, in theory. She might have been good at it once.
written for Star Trek Holidays on ao3 (there are some fantastic fics in this one)
#michael burnham#katrina cornwell#laira rillak#polyamory negotiations#remembering how to flirt#katrina's just so tired and I love her#michael burnham x katrina cornwell x laira rillak#star trek: discovery
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This is my unethical polycule. The nonmonogamy is consensual and negotiated we're just evil in other ways.
#i thought about putting this on my main bc that's where i usually put my funnyman posts#but then I'd miss the joke of this coming from user astrid-beck#this is a blumendrei post but sorry for implying they negotiate their polyamory#critical role#blumendrei
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Wade and Logan and polyamory and jealousy
Every once in a while I see someone portraying Logan as the jealous type, and I've got to say, I don't get it. (No shade if that's your thing.) Maybe it's just me wanting everybody to be poly, but jealousy is a hard squick for me. (Does anybody say squick anymore? We should bring it back.) But Mr. Logan "gets passed around the x-mansion like a blunt" Howlett, the jealous type? Ridiculous.
Part of it is I see jealousy as a young man being hotheaded thing. Even if he started out being the jealous type, after 200 fucking years you'd think he'd get that sorted out and be able to talk about it with his partner rationally.
I can see some aspects of it. Like I can see him being super protective. Like usually he's dating other x-men, so they can take care of themselves physically. But I can totally see him giving someone the menacing glare if he thought someone was hurting Wade's feelings.
And I can see him being all autistic and not liking other people in his space. So like, Wade doesn't mind if Logan brings another partner around, but Logan prefers that Wade not bring his partners home.
And I see there being a whole thing with him and scents. Like, it's kind of uncomfortable when Wade comes back smelling like a new partner. But with partners he's had for a while, their scents sort of mix together and become familiar. And when Wade introduces him to someone new, it's kind of nice how they already feel familiar because they smell like Wade.
Someday I want to try to write something about early days, fresh back from the void and Wade can't really figure out how to have the "are we exclusive conversation" and he's feeling kind of guilty about going out to see Cable. But Logan can smell him when he comes home, and he knows Wade knows he can track people across the city, so Wade must know he knows. And he just figures Wade doesn't feel comfortable talking about it, and who is Logan to judge someone for not wanting to sit down and talk about relationships, so he just rolls with it. Gets a calendar for the fridge (which Wade doesn't notice) and starts tracking out date nights so they don't conflict. And then all of a sudden Wade's out on a double date with him and Cable and Logan and Kurt and he's in a loving poly relationship when did that happen?
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any tord hcs about his mental health and such? or just tord hcs in general or eddsworld hcs in general that u wanna share :]
i think tord was diagnosed with bipolar disorder kinda young, + has been on medication for a while.
aside from that, i think tord + tom are quite introverted while edd + matt are extroverted, which often leads to edd + matt going on dates just the two of them while the other two hang out at home.
#pic is high school tord sleeping over at edds#tbh that sketch is cute as hell i might line + color it#we love polyamory negotiations <3#''hang out'' theyre parallel playing your honor#ACK im just turning everything into polyworld#ITS OKAY THATS WHY I MADE THIS BLOG SO I CAN BE CRINGE AND FREE#polyworld#ew shipsworld#shipsworld#ew tord#ew tom#edd and matt are mentioned........... thats ok#ask#thank u for the ask :3
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Manip GIF by @odetolove95
📖"I Prefer Girls Who're Not Afraid to Cry"
That’s what Chris does - he worries. He worries that someday someone will catch on to what they do, what they’ve been doing for years. That someday, someone will be in the wrong place at the wrong time, with the wrong intentions, and snap a picture of something that can’t be explained away as an interaction between friends and costars.
Rated: Mature
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Chris Evans (Sebastian x ofc)
Word Count: 4439
Tags: light dom/sub, dom Sebastian Stan, Sub Chris Evans, slight internalized homophobia, secret relationship, discussions of threesomes and polyamory, flirting, touching through clothes, teasing
Summary: Sebastian and Chris reconnect to discuss the possibility of sharing a woman and living their life in the open.
A.N.: this isn't shading Alba at all. It was written when Chris had just barely started to date her.
📖"I Prefer Girls Who're Not Afraid to Cry"
Part one highly recommended to be read first!
Sebastian’s in the middle of taking a dump when he hears his phone out in the kitchen. “Ah, crap.”
(Literally.)
But then the familiar ringtone registers, and he calms down, knowing that he’s not missing an important business call from his agent or some director. He craps in peace.
He brews himself another coffee and takes it into the livingroom, sinking down on his couch with a happy sigh. He checks his phone. There’s a text from Bo already. He’d stuck her in a town car not thirty minutes ago, with a kiss and a murmured command of, “Let me know when you’re home safe.”
Given her proclivity for being a good girl, Sebastian is unsurprised to find her sweet and adorably obedient: “Safe and sound. Last night was amazing 😘😊,” waiting in their text thread.
"Good girl," he murmurs. He's still smiling over her, as he pulls up the last call received and taps the screen to call him back.
He picks up on the second ring. “Hey.” He sounds breathless over the line, must be working out. There’s some new project he’s signed on for, some historical drama with shirtless scenes.
“Hey,” Sebastian says. “You busy? I can call back.”
“No, no, it’s fine. Hang on.” There’s movement on the other end of the line, and a few seconds later it sounds like his face is pressed more firmly to the receiver. He’s settled somewhere, and his breath isn’t labored anymore.
“Are you still in the city?”
“Yeah. They’ve got three still in the running for the female lead, want me to do chemistry reads to narrow it down. Casting needs me for another few days." There's a pause. "... I thought I might stay a bit longer, though. See the sights.”
Sebastian hums, pleased. “You should.” In the distant background, he thinks he can hear weight plates being moved around. “Are you ... are you actually at a gym?”
His sigh crackles over the line, displeased. “The fifty-third street Equinox.”
“Wow.” Sebastian snickers. “And look: you’ve survived!”
“Don’t jinx it. Nobody’s bothered me. Yet.”
Sebastian still laughs about it. He doesn’t mind public gyms himself, but then again, he’s much more of a showoff (and not nearly as famous). “Do you want to go to lunch?” he asks, eyes slipping closed, digging his skull back into the couch cushion. “I’ve got something I want to talk to you about.”
“Sorry, can’t. I’ve got meetings all afternoon.”
“Pfff. 'Course.” There goes Sebastian's excuse for skipping his own workout. He pokes at his abs. “I need to go for a run.”
Over the line, there’s the sound of water being gulped, and then a hopeful, “Dinner though?”
“Sure. Where?”
“Well, I was thinking that dark place. Georgie’s?”
Sebastian bites his lip, tickled at what he knows that means. Georgia’s is an obscenely expensive and very private Italian joint. It’s got dark corners, discreet staff, and cozy leather booths. … And it’s less than two blocks from Sebastian’s building. Still, he pretends to complain, teasing, “You don’t ask for much, do ya, Evans?”
Chris chuckles lowly, and the sound goes straight to Sebastian’s cock. “What, you think I’m easy, Stan?”
“I know you are.”
“Gotta make you work for it. I want you to wine and dine me.”
That’s not all you want me to do, Sebastian thinks. “I think I can manage that. Dessert after?"
"Always."
That low voice, purred into the receiver, is enough to have Sebastian's cock pulsing in interest. He sinks lower on the couch, right hand roaming over his leg, up to the crease of his inner thigh. “Eight o’clock?” he asks, cupping himself. Maybe he’ll jerk off before he runs.
“You damn Europeans and your middle of the night dinner times.”
“Shut up and come get cultured,” he says, throwing on an accent thicker than any he’s naturally spoken with in decades. It makes Chris giggle, which lights Sebastian up. “Seven,” he concedes, and Chris agrees. Neither one of them mentions the fact that they're going to wind up back at Sebastian’s place, after; that 'dessert' is just a euphemism for what they get up to together once they're alone. Sebastian all but confirms it when he says, “You can stay?”
“Yeah. The night.”
“The week,” he corrects.
Chris stays silent, and Sebastian can practically hear him worrying. “Well … I’ve got all my luggage, though.”
“So? Bring it.”
“Production’s put me up at the Conrad …”
Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You gonna turn me down for the friggin' Conrad? Naw. Check out of your hotel, bring your luggage here. I don’t get to see you enough. I miss you.”
“Seb,” Chris says, sounding tempted, but wary. “What if somebody—”
“You haven’t been doing press, so nobody knows you’re in town. Come on. Have you even seen cameras?”
“... No,” he admits, still sounding worried. But that’s what Chris does: he worries. He worries that someday someone will catch on to what they do, what they’ve been doing, off and on, for years. That someday, someone will be in the wrong place at the wrong time, with the wrong intentions, and snap a picture of something that can’t be explained away as an interaction between friends and costars. Last year, Chris' agent had sat him down and said something to him about it.
But Sebastian just calmly commands him again, “Come stay with me. It’ll be fine.”
“... Okay.”
His heart melts at the give in Chris’ voice, the trust. He’s a bit like Bohdana, in that regard. Sometimes Chris just needs to let it all go and let somebody else be in charge for a little while. And Sebastian knows how hard it is for him to do that, knows what it means, that Chris lets him be the one he surrenders to. “Hey,” he says fondly. “Be brave, little toaster. I’ll see you tonight.”
Chris snorts, Sebastian hums, and they end the call that way. Sebastian closes his eyes and sips the rest of his coffee with his hand still on his dick, feeling peaceful, considering jacking off. It’s probably nearing noon by now. He should go get his workout over with, but he isn’t in the mood to rush, too wrapped up in his thoughts about Chris. And Bo.
He’d bid her farewell slowly and lazily. She’d been so sweet in his bed that morning, all mussed hair and shy smiles and soft curves. Sebastian had thoroughly enjoyed the gentle, intimate process of kissing her awake and cuddling her between the sheets, speaking in decibels only used by lovers, reassuring her that she was perfect and that what they’d done was good, and right, that he wasn’t going to discard her now that he'd had her—all things that he'd known she needed to hear.
It’s been a long time since Sebastian’s been with a woman so beautifully needy. Bo’s no virgin. He can see that she clearly knows what she likes. But there’s a virginal quality to her that tells Sebastian she’s obviously never been treated right by a man, and she’s never been handled by one at all. That doesn’t make him mad or indignant on her behalf. Rather, it excites him.
Excites him, because that means he gets to be her first in more ways than one. He’s thinking about the sight of her laid out on his bed and whimpering so sweetly, as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajama pants. He plays with his dick lightly, getting harder, remembering his time with Bohdana last night and imagining how it would’ve been if Chris had been there with them.
Would he just want to watch, that first time? Sebastian thinks maybe he would. Chris is hesitant sometimes. He’s careful, mindful of other people’s judgements and expectations, mindful of himself. If Bo wasn’t overtly, aggressively sexual with him right out of the gate (which she likely wouldn’t be), then Sebastian knows Chris would move to the side, sit in a chair and watch, eventually touching himself while Sebastian took Bo apart on the bed.
He jerks off to the fantasy, picturing something very close to what really happened last night. Only in this version, some of his attention would be on Chris, too; glancing over at him while his hand is between Bo’s legs, smirking and tossing her panties his way, looking straight at him as he fingers her to climax. Maybe he'd decide to eat her out and make her come that way, too. He knows he'd go over to Chris, then; kiss him with his face still messy, give him a taste of her. Oh, and he can just imagine the look Chris would get on his face, if Seb could make her squirt in front of him. Fuck, he thinks, he could even drag Chris over and make him watch up close. He could teach him.
He comes with a low grunt, most of the mess contained inside his pajama pants. He pulls them off and wipes himself with a sated sigh, then goes to chuck them in the hamper. He starts the shower water running and shoots off a quick text to Don to see if he’s free for a run. Sebastian always pushes a little harder than he does when jogging alone. He hops in the shower, already in an excellent mood.
This thing with Chris, this “thing” that they don’t put a name to, has been going on for a long time. Sometimes Sebastian forgets just how long. (How many years ago were they shooting Winter Soldier? Ten? Jesus, they’re getting old.)
Ten years since that first kiss: middle of August in a trailer in Atlanta, boiling temperatures, boiling tensions, and Chris shoving him away with a “What the fuck man? I’m not gay!”
Eight years since that second kiss: another trailer, a better kiss, this time with Sebastian so bulked up that he could easily wrestle Chris’ anger away.
Seven years since that first night: Salt Lake Comic Con, Chris busting into his hotel room, drunk and belligerent and falling to his knees to suck him off.
Yeah, Sebastian thinks, it’d turned into a regular thing after Salt Lake. So, seven. Seven years of fitting in moments together. Between cities, movies, relationships, the demands of friends and fans and family. Using their phones when the months upon months of separation pile up—texting the safe stuff and snapchatting the not so safe stuff. Missing each other but never admitting it, and certainly never saying I Love You. They live two separate lives, lives that don’t have space for them to make their “thing” any more than it is. Certainly not a relationship.
Sexuality’s a spectrum, and he and Chris each have their place somewhere on it. Sebastian knows they both fall way closer to the straight end of that spectrum than most men who’re sleeping with other men do, but not far enough to not warrant caution. Because being gay isn’t conducive to what they do for a living.
Oh, Hollywood is very accepting of those things socially, but the fastest way to kill a career as a leading man in film is to announce that you’re into dick. Roles dry up fast once you’re openly gay. It’s not homophobia, it’s marketing. No director is going to cast a guy for a blockbuster role if the audience can’t buy him as straight. Action, romance, and even in most drama films; sex is what’s being sold. Straight sex, to straight people, and a leading man is the main product. Women need to be able to picture themselves with him, men need to be able to picture themselves as him. That’s the business.
It’s something both Sebastian and Chris have had to come to grips with. Girlfriends but not wives are always encouraged. Hell, Chris’ agent even sets him up on the occasional date. Emily is a little more hands off with Sebastian, thank goodness. But she's made comments in the past about all the gay roles he’s taken on in his work— “One is fine, two starts to look suspicious, three’s a pattern," has been sure to let him know that he’d better be visibly pursuing women in the meanwhile. So he’s gotten into the habit of dating models. It’s helped to increase his sex appeal and cement him as a desirable lead for films, or so says Emily. Sebastian gets it, but it’s still annoying to hear his manager talk it up with such importance. He likes to think he gets roles because he’s a good actor. Imagine that.
He can’t even remember how many times Chris used to call him, back in the early days, upset and saying that they needed to stop doing what they were doing. An … interpretable picture had come out that showed the two of them embracing at a party. Now they’re careful. They’ve crafted a narrative and fed the media enough to ensure that they’re depicted as best friends, born from over a decade spent making movies together. Magazines print it, YouTube has compilation videos of it. No other pictures have ever come out.
Sebastian stands outside the restaurant and waits. He spots Chris coming down the sidewalk and smiles widely. They haven’t seen each other in months. Chris’ beard is gone.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
He can’t pull him in and kiss him like he wants to. He keeps his hands shoved in his pockets as they greet each other warmly. “Should we go in?” Chris asks, eyes roving up and down Sebastian, taking him in. “You look good.”
“Look who’s talking, Mr. Sexiest Man Alive,” Sebastian says, because he knows it’ll make him blush. It does.
Chris’ cheeks get gloriously pink and he shoves Sebastian’s shoulder as they go through the restaurant’s doors, laughing and telling him to shut the fuck up. The hostess gets a little wide-eyed when she realizes who’s standing in front of her. Sebastian’s not sure she knows who he is, but she definitely recognizes Mr. 2022. She can’t peel her eyes from Chris, and she gets real smiley, real fast, leading them back to the darkest, most tucked away booth in the house when Chris winks at her and requests 'someplace private'. “Your server will be right with you,” she gushes, seeming almost hesitant to go back to her hostessing duties. It’s cute, and it gives Sebastian more fodder for teasing once she finally does retreat.
“Gonna miss the beard though,” he muses, looking Chris over. He looks younger without it, always does. They settle in and ask the server for their usual; a bottle of wine and every appetizer on the menu. Sebastian was on chicken breast protocol not too long ago, so it’s a relief to be ordering calamari and bread and snails soaked in butter. He talks about the muscle he’s been able to put back on since his last role, how he thinks the weight loss aged him and he’s considering Botox. Chris talks about the table reads he’s in town for and the film he’s been forcing himself into public gyms for. He votes No for Botox.
“Seventeen-seventies,” Sebastian muses, once their food has come and he’s fishing out an escargot from its shell. “So like, breeches and wigs? Big puffy shirts?” He smirks across the table. “I can just picture it.”
Chris shakes his head at him, but he’s smiling. He likes being teased by Sebastian, and Sebastian knows this. “I’m getting nervous about it,” he confides. “I have to do an accent, which you know is not my forte. Then there’s the sex scenes.”
Sebastian can sympathize. He’s also shit at accents (other than those from Soviet bloc countries), and he’s done plenty of nudity. Full frontal, even. There’s really no way to make it not awful. And sex scenes are even worse: A film crew staring at your asscheeks and a bandaid taped over your junk while you pretend to give it to some chick. Sebastian would rather scoot around Athens naked a dozen times before having to do imitation thrusts. “There’ll be an intimacy coordinator,” he tries to console. “Talk to them.”
“Eh, they’re for the women.”
“They’re for everybody,” Sebastian corrects. “I’ve had my dick out enough to know.”
“Yeah you have.”
He points his teeny escargot fork across the table, stern. “They’re not just for the women.”
Chris reaches for his wine. “Speaking of women,” he segues. Their table is very secluded and the surrounding area dark, so much so that personal conversation feels safe, tucked away as they are in their little corner. “I ah, I broke it off with Alba.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows raise. “Oh?” He’d forgotten her name, but knows who Chris is talking about. “Why?” he asks, trying not to let his enthusiasm show. “I thought you liked her.”
Chris shrugs, looking down about it. “I did. I do. She’s sweet, but she’s borderline Gen Z, you know? She made some comment about Titanic being a “vintage” movie. It was too much.”
Sebastian nods. He gets it. And even though he’s happy to hear he has Chris all to himself again, he’s also sorry for him, because he knows how much the other man wants love, wants a family. They’ve never talked about their futures with other people. It’s just been an unspoken assumption on both their parts that eventually they’ll end up married with kids, no longer able to accommodate their “thing.”
But that’s part of this new idea that’s been percolating in the back of Sebastian’s brain. It’s not concrete, just a possibility, but being with Bo has put the idea into his head that maybe he could have his cake and eat it too, and maybe so could Chris. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he says, forcing himself to be bold. He meets Chris’ eyes. “Women, that is.”
“Oh yeah, how’d it go with that ah, that model you were seeing?” he asks, forced levity in his tone.
It makes Sebastian want to reach over and take his hand. Instead, he nudges their feet together under the table. “Hey.” He waits for Chris to meet his eyes again. “Bohdana,” he reminds gently. He hasn’t given Chris many details, but they have a policy of always telling each other about who they’re sleeping with. “She’s good. I really like her. She stayed over last night.”
Chris smiles. He’s trying. “That’s great, man.” He looks down again, sips his wine.
“Chris, look at me.”
He keeps his gaze on the table, focuses on choosing another few pieces from their various appetizers. “So, it’s getting serious?”
“Hey,” Sebastian says quietly, stern. “I told you to look at me.” Chris’ eyes snap up. Sebastian shakes his head. “It’s not serious. Not yet.”
“Oh?”
“Yet.” Beneath the table he slides his foot up, rubbing his ankle against Chris’. “She’s sweet,” he murmurs, holding his gaze. “Funny, gorgeous. Just wants a man to take care of her, though she tries not to let it show. And the way she responds to me is …” he trails off, letting the lack of words and his expression do the talking. He can see that Chris gets it. “And I think she wants kids. She’s said a few things in general conversation.”
Chris’ lips tick up. “Sounds like the whole package,” he says, thinking he’s hiding it well. But he’s as see-through as cellophane to Sebastian.
“Not quite. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He waits, takes a sip or two of his wine before he delves into the idea that’s been taking shape in his mind. He tells him delicately, “I think you should meet her.”
Chris immediately makes a face. “Why?”
“Hear me out.” He knows this has the potential to be a hard sell. “I think you’ll like her. She’s very pretty, you know. Nice skin, brown hair and dark eyes, cute face, petite. Just like you like ‘em.”
Chris is chewing something in his mouth. He chews it round and round, staring, thinking. He swallows and guesses, “... You want a threesome?”
“No. More than that.” Beneath the table, Sebastian slips his loafer off. “I want you to meet her. I think you’ll really like her.”
A shiver visibly runs through Chris’ body when Sebastian’s foot has made it all the way up his thigh, to the apex of his legs. “I don’t know what secret code you think you’re speaking in here, Seb,”
“I want us to share her.”
“Jesus—That’s what I just said."
“Need me to help you with that attitude?” Sebastian purrs. Chris’s eyes widen minutely at the threat, then go heavy-lidded. Sebastian smiles. “Hm?”
“I don’t think, it’d be a good idea,” he says, every word clipped and measured, controlling himself. “I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off. And the way we look at each other? She’d know.”
“That’s the idea,” Sebastian counters, sly. “Chris: we both like women, we both want that life—a family, home, kids. And we want each other. We’ve been separating ourselves into these different pieces, but maybe we don’t have to. Why not do it together? All of it?” Understanding starts to dawn on Chris’ face, and Sebastian nods. “Yes. You and me, and her.”
Chris' lips work a few times, speechless. “You want—”
“I want us to share her. Sexually, romantically, domestically. A life. Together.”
It takes a long few moments. First Chris just blinks at him, and then he scoffs out a mean little laugh, masking his nerves. Sebastian waits. Chris lifts his wine glass and gulps half of it down. He sets it down a little too roughly on the table. “You’ve been on what, two dates with this girl? Have you floated this little plan by her?”
“Six dates. And no I haven’t, but I will. And I think she’ll say yes.”
He scoffs and drinks more wine. He’s acting angry, but Sebastian can see him thinking it over, afraid to get his hopes up. “What about you and me?” he says. “People would know that we’re together. It’s still the same problem.”
Sebastian holds up a finger. “Ah, not quite.”
“How do you figure?”
“First of all, we wouldn’t have to come out about it right away. One of us could go public with her as his girlfriend, and since you and I are best hetero buds, it still wouldn’t be anything unusual for the three of us to be seen together.” Underneath the table, he lifts his leg, using his socked foot to massage Chris’ thigh. “Nothing scandalous. Then, one day—maybe not for years and years, who knows?—but one day, we come out as a throuple.”
Chris’ eyebrows go sky high. “A ‘throuple’?” he repeats.
“That’s what the kids are calling it these days. Polyamory, it’s all the rage.”
The eyebrows come down, replaced by a scowl. “Oh Seb, come on. Be serious,” he groans. The sound cuts off, however, when Sebastian’s foot presses up warningly against his balls.
“I am being serious,” he coos, voice like velvet. “What about that plan doesn’t sound perfect to you?”
Chris licks his lips. “Well she’d have to agree to it.”
“She will.”
“You don't know that. And I haven’t even met her.”
“Actually, you have.” Sebastian grins, excited to reveal this last bit. “She told me about it: how you two ran into each other at the gym.” When he sees that Chris is still confused, he elaborates, “She stumbled into you while you were lifting? You sat her down and force fed her juice and crackers?”
Chris’ lips part as he puts two and two together. “It was a granola bar,” he says weakly, and Sebastian’s heart flares with fondness for him.
“I talked about you with her. Briefly. Told her how you were my best friend, how we're very close." Chris snorts. "And she told me about how she thought you were cute, flirted with you, even gave you her number. I think she felt guilty for the flirting. It was like she was confessing it to me: her lust for another man.” With lighter pressure, he slowly rubs his foot against the crotch of Chris’ pants. His eyes bore into him while he does it, smirking, holding him with his gaze. “You’re getting hard,” he whispers.
“Y-yeah.” Chris looks like he’s really considering Sebastian’s proposal now, the anxiety in his face slowly being replaced by interest, disbelief … and maybe hope. “This is crazy,” he breathes. “Seb ...”
“I know,” Sebastian soothes. “I know it is. But we could do it—have each other, and our woman, and a family. Everything. A certain amount of privacy can be bought, and you have the money for it. Nobody would know until we want them to know. And even then, there’d be no reason for people not to assume it’s a M/F/M arrangement, with that F firmly in between the M’s. He tilts his head and watches as Chris absorbs everything he's saying. Gently, he massages his foot over his dick. Chris shivers. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“... You really think we can pull that off?”
“We’ve crafted a narrative before,” he offers. It’s not like it’s hard. All they’d have to do is act the part when they’re in public, call the paps on themselves when it’s convenient—both things they’ve already been doing for years. “So what do you say? You want to give it a try, come over and meet her one night? Feel her out?”
Chris has a brightness in his eyes as he thinks it through, and soon a smile sparks—hesitant at first, but growing. Under the table, his hand curls over the top of Sebastian’s foot and gives a squeeze, pressing it firmer against his erection. Sebastian moans quietly. Then, to his utter joy, Chris nods and says, “Let’s do it.”
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#fanfiction#sebastian stan#fanfic#rpf#chris evans#chris evans x sebastian stan#evanstan#d/s dynamic#relationship negotiation#polyamory#internalized homophobia#coming out#m/m/f#m/f/m#secret relationship#real person fiction#love triangle
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have this some of the time
4200 smutty, smutty words of the wizards Sky, Silver, and Sworn getting it on after the successful rescue of the garrison at Abassin, when everybody lives and everything is fine. please mind the tags.
She made certain there was no edge, confrontation, or rank in her tone. Only honest curiosity and the respect that came of saving each other’s lives multiple times. “Is any of this a problem for you, Wizard Sworn?” Sworn blinked, and took his eyes off Silver long enough to let her see his solemnity. “No, Captain.” “Good. Can we talk out loud? I’m so tired. Transparency, please.” Silver’s hand moved to the base of Suvi’s neck. “I was just telling him that being able to recognize greatness, and choosing well who to follow, is a skill unto itself.” He brushed his thumb over the skin above her collar to make it clear that he meant Suvi. Suvi felt a shiver coming on, and did nothing to stop it. She watched color rise in Sworn’s wan cheeks. Oh. Yes, she wanted this.
read on AO3
#Worlds Beyond Number#Suvirin Kedberiket#the polyamory negotiations are accelerated because wizards think so fast ☺️
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i wrote that obizenyuki post yesterday and now i cannot stop thinking about them, the three of them make me feel so unwell. I want to write a getting together fic for them but also i'm currently in hualian hell and i'm fully expecting to spend this entire weekend reading more tgcf
Maybe after tgcf i'll take a brief detour to reread some shirayukihime and catch up on some chapters i'm missing.
I still haven't decided what i'll read after that, i might just do another poll
#i'm not even sure how i landed on tge idea for that post yesterday i hadn't even thought about shirayukihime in months before that#i think the thought process went hualian > danmei > queer fiction > portal future and how it portrays queerness#> drago talking about polyamory negotiations in the drago 2781 series > iron widow > MAN I FUCKING WISH OBIZENYUKI WAS CANON
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see i think you can do polyamory negotiations with froi (given uh. some time) so you can do worlds where it's just p/q or just f/q or p/q and f/q (and maybe f/t...) but with lucian (and to be clear. i do not mean this as any sort of slight against him) this i think is not an option for him p/q and p/l are mutually exclusive unless we're doing an infidelity bit
#the original basis for modern au was polyamory negotiations (although phaedra wasn't there yet. this was a while ago) so i like to have#fun with them. another key part of modern au that i don't think has come up here: oflascow does not die. he is literally fine. he is helpin#raise the baby. but they still call the kid tariq. this is a two-tariq household (quintana+froi+phaedra+tariq+smaller tariq. i feel like#this is insane but i am having fun so.)
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I'm still thinking about David Brin's The Postman and how its most feminist parts aren't the parts it thinks are the most feminist.
Anyway, one detail I really liked: the post-apocalyptic town has to rally to fight off some bandits. It's men who go out fighting. But Brin specifically mentions women are the ones getting the horses ready and out of the stables. He's aware of a role they might take and acknowledges it, even if it's not flashy. Which is not something I have come to expect most authors to do.
#I'm still amused that he writes a town run by a literal matriarch#that practices some negotiated consensual polyamory#and by implication doesn't consider that feminist#it's just how things are! why make a big deal of it?#while I would prefer some acknowledgement that it's feminist I'm not gonna rag on a 40-year-old sci fi paperback#more fun and useful to point out what it does well
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reloading the same conversation a dozen times just to explore the full dialogue tree is Real Gaming and i'm so glad bg3 is here to provide
#blahs#bg3 lb#reloading the conversation negotiating polyamory with shadowheart bc everything she says here is so fun#i'm not even actually going to do a poly relationship on this save i just love seeing what the characters have to say about it#i like that if you broach the topic with shadowheart but then backtrack and try to act like you aren't interested she calls you out#she's like 'that's not true though. you ARE interested. go have sex with halsin babe i'll be waiting to hear the details ;)'#she doesn't just tolerate a poly relationship she's enthusiastic about it! i think that's fun!
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Queer Headcanon of the Day
Tarkin and his wife Thalassa are bisexual swingers who technically haven't consented to swinging but don't give enough of a shit to complain about it and have a hypocritical disdain towards one another for doing so.
Does this headcanon have a basis?
For Tarkin, certainly. For Thalassa? NOPE! She's in ONE comic. I can do whatever I want with that woman because Star Wars didn't care enough to develop her. If I say she swings with her Nautolan mafia wife, then swing she does.
#wilhuff tarkin#thalassa tarkin#bisexual#some fucked up polyamory that hasn't been negotiated properly#what do you expect?#in the immortal words of malcolm fitzcarraldo:#they're villains you crybaby! they swing!#star wars headcanons#canon queer character#non-canon queer character#i hate them (affectionate)
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The Lan brothers are so funny to me because as you start reading MDZS, you think that Lan Wangji has the monopoly on romantic relationship drama with his nearly 2 decades of sad gay pining and shit and Lan Xichen is like the most normal and well-adjusted character in the series, but then you learn that Lan Xichen was not only a part of an unbelievably fucked up throuple, where one of the members literally murdered the other, but that said throuple drama is in fact literally the driving force of the entire main plot of MDZS
#it’s hilarious how much of mdzs is just Wangxian witnessing some godawful polyamory negotiations from a fucked up throuple#and going ‘damn that’s messed up…anyways’#mdzs#moonie posting
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phileas comparing his bond with his ex-fiancée with the one he shares with passepartout and abigail. just. Just.
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