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After a few dead ends, Seonghwa finally found the door marked “Third Officer.” He hesitated, the ship’s gentle rocking suddenly more noticeable as he crouched to slide the envelope underneath the door, his hand trembling.
No going back now.
Seonghwa straightened and turned to go, feeling an instant flood of relief—until, for the second time that week, he nearly collided with someone standing right behind him.
“Are you always in the habit of sneaking around, Mr. Park?”
—
In 1909, chance meetings on the S.S. Runic set Seonghwa on a journey through Edwardian London, New York, and the depths of the Atlantic aboard the Titanic.
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Bookmarked by smol_succulent (polyx)
07 Dec 2025
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“So you,” he tries, already knowing the answer. “You’re not straight, huh.”
Yeosang has to bite his lips between his teeth. “Nope.”
“Ah,” San nods. Yeosang swears he sees his blush deepen. “Me neither.”
“Most of the guys who date my boyfriend aren’t.”
Bookmarked by smol_succulent (polyx)
06 Sep 2025
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Mingi has no shame in being their object of desire, their thing to use and abuse and shower in praise and apology after the fact. Maybe Mingi is sick, but his back arches up off the bed as Seonghwa and Hongjoong find their rhythm taking him apart, his skin lighting aflame with a euphoria that tastes like drinking every star in the night sky.