#maybe it will make the brainworms dance

[timmie15]

I am not in a good term with the lack of old gen AC fanart so I said fuck it I want to draw my vision of ACFA pilots

I start with my favourite two-faced rat, Otsdarva

[mars-ipan]

green day was really really fun and probably one of those nights you remember for the rest of your life :) we watched howl’s moving castle when we got back (i’d never seen it!) and i understand why everyone wants howl bad. i do too

[thedeadthree]

HEHEHEHE 🥀💌☺️🥴

[kitten4sannie]

ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇʟʟ

ᴘᴇʀᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ/ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇ ➠ ʏᴜɴɢɪ

pairing: bf! mingi x gf! reader x roommate! yunho

genre: smut

summary: there’s something irresistible about your boyfriend’s roommate.

w.c: 3k

warnings: established poly relationship, switch! mingi + reader, dom! yunho, lots of perverted activities going on (panty sniffing for one…), voyeurism/exhibitionism, mxm, mostly pet names + praise <33, glasses kink idk i really like glasses if you couldn’t tell,, a tiny amount of false praise/name calling, kissing (including a three way kiss 🫣), manhandling, instruction giving, masturbation, oral (receiving), cum eating/swapping, cockwarming, dp in one hole, brief tit play, bulge kink, breeding kink, squirting, creampies

a/n: DON’T YOU LOOK AT ME 🫵🏼 i had to write this okayyy it was the only way to quell the brainworms uwu esp after that dance challenge yuyu posted ohmygodohmfhwwh and migiii GRRRRRRRR BARK anyways, i’ll return to my enclosure now 😔 if you enjoyed plz lemme know~~

song rec: kiss & tell by ethan low + gen neo

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

It only took a week of dating your boyfriend to know that he had a special relationship with his roommate. The both of them could deny it all they wanted, but you weren’t blind. You didn’t even mind it, either — in fact, it intrigued you. The more the merrier, after all. Now that you had just moved in with them, you expected to see it first hand, but you would come to realize that there was a lot more to the story — and you were a major part of it. 

“All we did was jerk off together, Y/N, it was one time, maybe two…” Mingi explained to you over the sound of running water, as if that even helped his case, handing you the plastic plate he had just washed. 

“Riiight, and I only scissored my bestie once or twice, right after the group orgy,” you replied sarcastically, wiping the dish with a rag and putting it back into your shared cabinet. 

Mingi almost dropped your favorite cat mug into the sink. “Y-you didn’t tell me you were into group sex.” 

You quickly took the mug from his grasp, holding it to your chest. “I was just joking, Min, so that you could see how silly you sound.” You reached up to caress his cheek with your cold hand, making him shiver. “Who cares if you’re attracted to your roommate. You know I don’t mind.” 

Mingi’s eyebrows screwed upwards, looking down at you with wide eyes. “B-but, he’s a dude.” 

“And?” 

He bit into his plump lip. “He’s got a dick.” 

You nodded your head. “Even better.” 

Mingi turned off the sink. “He’s my best friend, Y/N…” 

“I don’t see why that’s a problem, Min. You can’t control who you like.” 

“I-i don’t like him!” your boyfriend protested weakly, his rosy cheeks betraying him. 

You sighed, accepting defeat for now. “Okay, baby, I hear you.” 

Mingi suddenly cornered you against the sink, his hands on each side of the counter. He towered over you. “Why are you so interested in Yunho, huh? Do you want him?”

Now that the tables had turned, it was your turn to blush. “Wh-what?” 

Mingi slowly pressed himself into you, his body warm against yours. He was hard. You could feel it. “You heard me.” He leaned down to whisper, “You want to fuck my roommate, don’t you, baby?” 

Just then, the front door opened, a set of heavy footsteps making their way through the corridor until the very roommate you were speaking of appeared in the kitchen. “It’s raining cats and dogs out there,” Yunho chuckled softly, pulling his heavy black coat off, along with his foggy glasses, before shaking his head like a dog, his dirty blond bangs sticking to his forehead. 

Mingi had positioned you in front of him to conceal his boner, trying his best to look casual with his arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on the top of your head. “I told you to bring an umbrella, dumbass.” 

Yunho dropped his stuff down onto the kitchen counter, tugging at the thin white turtleneck he was wearing, the soaked material rolling up his waist. It had been soaked through, leaving little to the imagination. The both of you gulped audibly from where you stood. “You’re right, like always, Min.” Humming, Yunho used the loose material of his sweatpants to wipe his glasses clean, putting them back on, his gaze softening at the sight of his two favorite people. “Silly me.” 

“You’re going to catch a cold like that,” you whined, trying not to focus on the way his top clung to the ridges of his abs, or how his heavy sweatpants began to fall slightly from his hips. “You should take a shower, Yunho.”  

You weren’t the only one sizing him up, though Mingi wasn’t quite as capable of being subtle, instead biting straight into his lip, his deep-set eyes scanning lower until he could see the prominent outline of the very cock he was just talking about a few minutes ago. “Yeah, Yun. You’re soaked…” 

Yunho’s eyes formed half moons. His roommate and girlfriend were just too cute. He wanted nothing more than to fuck the living daylights out of the both of you, preferably in front of the other. Yunho couldn’t even keep track of the amount of times he’s jerked off to the thought of what you’d both act like when he was turning one of you out. He wondered which one of you would cry from being fucked full of cum, who could throat his cock the best, whose hole was the tightest, the list went on. These days, he’s even gone as far as to steal your panties, or Mingi’s boxers out of the laundry basket, just to wrap them around his dick and jerk himself off inside your shared room when the both of you were at work. And, as soon as he brought the soiled undergarments to his nose and inhaled your pretty scent, he blew his load all over your bed, like clockwork. Then, he almost always slipped in the hallway on the way to throw your blankets into the wash. It was getting bad.

He observed the splotches of water that had soaked into your own top and Mingi’s shirt alike, his lips curling up into a small smirk. “Looks like the both of you are wet too. Maybe we could all use a shower.” 

“M-maybe,” you choked out, worried your cover was blown by how flustered you looked. 

“You can go first though, bro,” Mingi finished for you, just about finishing in his pants from the thought of showering alongside Yunho, with you in between them. 

Yunho simply ran his long fingers through his wet hair, letting out a small sigh. “Your loss.” And with that, he made his way down the dark hallway to the bathroom. 

You didn’t even have to say anything for Mingi to know where your head was at, not when his other one poked into your abdomen when you turned around to face him. “Min…” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Bed, yeah,” Mingi breathed out, lifting you up from the floor and carrying you down the same hallway to your bedroom, the one that just so happened to share a wall with the bathroom. 

-

Beads of water slipped past the edge of Yunho’s tensing jaw, dripping past his contracting abdomen, and collecting inside the palm of his hand, aiding him in the pursuit of getting off, jerking himself off to the sound of Mingi piping you down. He could always tell when his best friend was about to cum; Mingi’s breath would get caught inside his dry throat and his words would start to come out jumbled. You were similar in that aspect, growing breathless, except you would always voice your desperation, that is, until all you could do was whine just before your insides were painted white. Knowing you were coming undone together in such proximity to Yunho made him so dizzy, he had to squeeze around the base of his cock to keep himself from cumming too soon. However, it was far too late, already letting out a sudden groan, leaving a few hefty splatters of cum on himself and the shower wall. Seeing white dots around his vision when he blinked, Yunho fought to catch his breath, pressing his cheek to the cool shower wall.

“Haven’t had enough, baby? Bet you need Yunho inside you next. Isn’t that right?” he heard Mingi ask you, finding it hard to swallow. Was he hearing right? 

“Yeah, I need him, Min, please–” you whined from underneath him, your thighs starting to tremble from being so close. 

“Ask him, princess,” Mingi cooed inside your ear, too drunk on lust to truly consider how his actions could backfire, bringing one sweat-covered arm to knock his fist into the wall, his hips smacking relentlessly into yours. “He’s right there.” 

Yunho jumped at the sensation of Mingi knocking through the wall, reaching over his body to turn the shower water off, his heart thumping loudly inside his chest. Finally, it was his time.

“Y-Yun, please, come here..!” Yunho heard your muffled plea, and that was all it took for him to burst through your door, a small, useless towel clinging desperately to his hips, gazing at his roommates past the foggy lenses of his glasses. 

“Y-you actually came.” Mingi swallowed hard, his thrusts growing sloppy, about to climb off of you, but staying while when Yunho slowly shook his head in disapproval. 

“I did. Now, you’re going to cum for me,” Yunho told him in a low voice, slowly climbing onto the bed, reaching down to run his fingers along his arm, leaving light, feathered touches over your collarbone next, sending a shiver through the both of you. He licked at his lips. “You’ll let me see, won’t you?” 

Neither you nor your boyfriend needed to have a discussion about the budding development of your relationship with Yunho. It just felt right. You immediately hooked your thighs around his waist, Mingi responding by pounding eagerly into your cunt until the both of you began to cry out. 

Yunho hovered behind Mingi, his wandering fingers closing around his friend’s waist, controlling the rate of Mingi’s strokes until he began to shudder, Yunho’s leaking cock rubbing along the other’s heated skin. He chuckled softly at the sound of Mingi’s whimpers, holding him still. “You’re cumming, aren’t you, Min? Inside your pretty girlfriend?” 

A bit of drool leaking from his lips, Mingi nodded weakly, as though his head was too heavy to lift, letting Yunho push his hips further and locking him in place, coating your pulsing walls with his seed. “F-fuck, I’m filling her up, Yun, it won’t stop…”

Humming in approval, Yunho gently coaxed Mingi to the side to access your body next, grabbing ahold of your nearest thigh and lifting it up and out of the way. “What do we have here? Mmm, no protection, huh?” He observed closely as his roommate’s load began to leak out past your fluttering hole. “I didn’t know your girlfriend liked it raw, Min.” He smiled perversely at Mingi, suddenly lifting your hips up in the air until you were folded in half like a paper doll, blowing a bit of air onto your cunt just to see you squirm. “Do you like having your little used pussy eaten too, baby?” 

“Y-yes, Yuyu,” you gasped, not used to having your ankles near your head like this, your filled hole on full display. It was so embarrassing, being looked at by your boyfriend and his roommate like they were going to eat you alive, but you couldn’t help but want more of their attention. You reached up, spreading yourself open, feeling Yunho’s heavy breaths against your skin. “Hurry, before it all spills out…” 

Groaning, Yunho dipped his tongue in between your slick lips, licking a long stripe up to your swollen clit with his tongue laid flat, languidly gathering up your combined arousal, repeating this action over and over, earning moan after wanton moan from you. Yunho opened his eyes to see how Mingi had positioned himself behind you, sitting on the opposite side of him, Mingi’s ringed fingers groping at your tits. They eventually shared heated eye contact, both growing harder at the mere sight of one another. 

“How does she taste?” Mingi’s voice is gravelly, low, and dripping with lust. “Tell me, Yun.” 

“Like heaven,” Yunho sighs out onto your hot skin, tonguing at your wet hole and pushing the tip inside. It slips out when you tighten up around it, but Yunho doesn’t give up, forcing it back in, much to your approval, flicking it in and out, in and out, until his chin is soaked with your arousal. He couldn’t help but chuckle with delight, licking his lips clean. “Your princess is making a mess.” 

Mingi couldn’t help but run the pad of his thumb over his twitching cock head, spreading the abundant pre-cum along the rest of his length. “Keep going, and she’ll make an even bigger one…”  

Taking that as a challenge, Yunho dove back in, with even more enthusiastic drags of his tongue this time around, aggressively guiding your hips to his favor. 

You tossed your head back, broken moans and expletives falling from your lips. You instinctively reached out, wanting to hold onto something: Yunho’s shaggy hair, your boyfriend, the warm sheets, or something, anything, when Mingi took hold of your wrists and held you still, his fingers slowly moving down to interlace with yours. “Oh my god–fuck, please…!” 

“Yes, that’s it, baby,” Mingi encouraged softly, giving your hands a gentle squeeze or two. “That’s my girl, being so good for us…”

Yunho’s hum vibrated through your lower half, his nose only bumping into your clit one more time, before a spray of arousal hit his moving tongue. It wasn’t until he could hear your juices splatter down onto his bare skin and the bed that his eyes rolled underneath his fluttering eyelids. “Oh my god…” He was so dizzy with lust, he was going to bust at any second, if he wasn’t careful. Just then, he noticed Mingi pulling you up into his arms, your back to his chest. He watched Mingi tilt your head until your lips met, throbbing at the sight of his tongue disappearing into your mouth. 

With Mingi’s arm snaking around your middle, his hand  cupping your sensitive cunt and his tongue down your throat, you opened your eyes to gaze at Yunho’s lips. Wanting to taste yourself, you lazily broke the kiss with Mingi, pulling Yunho closer to you, so close that you could still see drops of your arousal stuck to his glasses. “I taste like heaven, huh?” 

“Mm-hm…” Yunho pressed in closer, sandwiching you in between him and your boyfriend, his hands moving downwards to explore the closest expanse of skin, whether it was yours or Mingi’s. “I’ll show you.” 

Yunho’s tongue slid into your mouth before you had a chance to properly taste his lips, letting you taste your warm arousal instead. Just then, Mingi lifted your hips up and back down onto his stiff cock, not even moving, just wanting to feel the way you stretched open to accommodate him. It felt so good, he couldn’t help but throb, eyes shutting tight from the pleasure, immediately kissing back when your lips were back on his. You turned your head slightly to kiss each of them, your boyfriend and roommate taking turns swallowing each and every moan you let out, that is, until your lips and tongues met in the middle. 

Soon, you pulled away to take a much needed breath, unable to catch it, especially now that you realized the two men didn’t seem to stop like you did, instead tilting their heads in opposite directions to deepen the kiss, drool dripping along their chins. They both gripped your hips from either side, mutually guiding them up and down, just as Mingi began to thrust up into you, Yunho’s cock rubbing along your clit at the same time. Once your cunt squeezed around Mingi’s cock, he knocked his head back, forcing the string of saliva that connected their lips to break apart. “Fuck, baby– princess, you’re squeezing so tight…feels so good…” 

“Is she? I bet she’ll squeeze even harder with me inside,” Yunho panted near your ear, his head spinning, swearing all the blood in his body had traveled to his heavy cock. 

“What are you waiting for? Give it to me..!” you gasped out, unable to control the volume of your voice, not when Mingi was slamming into you like a short-circuiting sex machine.

“Give it to her, Yun,” Mingi encouraged raspily, lifting your body up and lowering you back down, feeling your cunt slowly stretch open to fit the both of them inside and swallow them up completely. Once Yunho bucked his hips up, Mingi joined suit, their slick cocks rubbing along one another so quick, they would occasionally slip out, though they simply pushed back in and fucked you harder than before. “Oh, that’s it…oh, god…”

“I’m gonna–nnnngh,” Yunho cut his announcement off with a moan, gritting his teeth tight, pumping what seemed to be an endless load into your already used pussy. “Fuck, it really won’t stop…I’m gonna knock up your girlfriend, Min…” 

Just when you thought you would pass out, Mingi wrapped his arms tight around your middle, his hands laid flat against your stomach, swearing he could feel his roommate’s cock underneath the pads of his fingers. “What’s mine is yours,” Mingi sighed out, pulling out for a moment, just to force himself back in, shooting thick ropes of cum deep into your womb. Panting heavily, your boyfriend’s hands slid down along your abdomen, only having to pinch and rub at your clit for a moment, before you completely unraveled in between their heaving bodies. 

Yunho pulled his glasses off, tossing them onto the bed. “You really mean that, Min?” he asked, leaning in closer. Not only did he have free rein with his roommate’s pretty little girlfriend, but Mingi seemed to be up for grabs as well. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. “Does that include you?” 

Mingi scoffed, his cheeks hot to the touch, hoping Yunho couldn’t feel how hard he just got. “Now, let’s not get carried away.” 

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

fff taglist: @yutasbutterfly02 @wisejudgedragonhairdo @dawn-iscozy @bbdeongi @multistanbaby @cr4zyf0rm @kittenfrostt @magicshop1913 @enbysforhongjoong @londonbridges01 @mingisdimple @motherseonghwa23 @wwooyology @everyonewooeverywhere @leo-seonghwa @yourfatherlucifer @hwallazia @vampzity

[14dayswithyou]

Ren's favorite color is dark teal! My brain is so full with brainworms about this game. <3 I hope you have a wonderful day! I know you have answered this question for Violet and Ren already, but I would love to know what the rest of the cast would play (Race, Job) in FFXIV and what they would like to do the most there. 🙏 Thank you so much! <3

@waitlexist asked: Do you have any headcannons for Violet in MMOs? I ADORE MMOs(seriously, she’s a florist and a gamer? I want her so bad), and I’d love to hear a few headcannons about her! Also maybe some about Ren, Angel, and Violet all in a guild together? I like to imagine my Angel is as much of a gamer as me, and I can see Ren acting as an anon guildie to hangout with her. Although I’m not sure if he’d be a rouge-ish type class(or maybe Death Knight’s like in WoW), or a healer to keep Angel alive? I’m leaning toward the former, but I could also see the latter. Thank you, I’m sorry for the text wall KSKSJDJSJSBA ahem. Seriously, thank you for making this game. I dream of the day I can be in a poly relationship with Ren and Violet(v-type, if anyone knows what that means) ok I’ll stop yapping now! Thank you again, lol!

⌞♥⌝ Y'all will need to pay me $14,000 to shut up about FFXIV T_T In this essay, I will—

I like to imagine that Violet plays FFXIV every so often and somehow always has her jobs levelled up to the max. She plays as a Miqo'te who /gposes all the time in Il Mheg, and if she's not doing that, then she's hardcore raiding with some of her online friends.

I've mentioned this before, but Ren would be a Viera and play any support class like Scholar or Sage (because he thinks they look like cunty librarians /silly) — except he'll only heal Angel and refuse to buff/shield anyone else. If others notice this, he'll drop a single healing AoE in the most inconvenient place and leave them to fend for themselves.

[REDACTED] is a max-height Au Ra and claims that he exclusively plays as a Warrior because of the insane self-sustain — but it's actually because he forgets that there are other people in the party aside from Angel and refuses to be healed by anyone other than them. Always likes to Shirk Violet whenever there's a tankbuster <3 It drives her insane <3

My personal headcanon is that Violet was the one who got Jae into FFXIV (because they were classmates back in high school, and they both have a common interest in video games)!! He likes to collect all the minions and mounts, and often pretends to be new to the game to get free gil from veteran players. Jae also started out as a Miqo'te, but used his free fantasia to become a Hrothgar instead since he never seems to come across any.

Moth is an Elezen Dancer one-trick who always gives Angel the Dance Partner buff, no matter what job they're playing. It takes twenty minutes of Ren /playdead-ing in a corner and Violet explaining certain game mechanics for them to reconsider giving the buff to someone else. In turn, Moth always makes it a point to chew out Ren whenever he gives Angel the Kardia buff.

I also think it'd be funny if no one knows that Olivia plays FFXIV from time to time — and if she somehow ends up being the one who brings the gang together via an FC. Maybe someone she had a crush on in the past played the game, and wanting to impress them, she started playing the free trial. Now she's a level 100 Lalafell Pictomancer who always seems to fall for the hot characters AFK-ing in Limsa (a.k.a Violet lmaoooo).

If these guys were all in a Free Company (essentially a guild) together.... Hell on earth lmao T_T

There's always one person who keeps eating the food Moth uses as interior decor and it's tearing them apart. Violet now AFKs inside the FC house to find out who it is.

Olivia keeps inviting random people to the house and leaving them there without any explanation. There are literally four strangers also AFK-ing with Vi in the basement right now... Who are they... Why are they here...

As for Violet herself, she just wants to grow her plants outside in peace, but everyone keeps moving the furniture and blocking her path. Also... Whoever chose the housing exterior needs to have their subscription cancelled (it was Jae).

Ren keeps trying to convince Angel to share a room with him T_T And when he finally gets what he wants, it's at the cost of having Haurchefant's portrait stare down at him whenever he uses /doze next to them on the bed. He'll forever curse Violet for gifting that portrait to Angel.

Jae wants to build an entire submarine underneath the FC house for some reason????? He says it will help them make gil?????? And Violet is so on board???????? She's already a gilionare and a marketboard fiend??????

And if they were to all raid together... Hell everywhere djhsgsj ^^;

Violet got fed up with Ren's constant Shirking, so she picked up Dark Knight and frequently uses Living Dead to scare him.

Ren, in turn, started playing as a Sage and constantly Rescues her off of the map whenever she does this.

Jae likes the Viper job because he can make his glam pirate-themed, but he also enjoys Summoner because it comes with a Carbuncle he can pretend is Maple. Whenever Jae doesn't get healed, he'll summon Bahamut right on top of Ren to annoy him.

Since Moth has been banned from using Dance Partner on Angel, they've switched to Samurai and found that it's way more fun. They also really appreciated all the tips Violet gave them on how to play their job more efficiently.

Olivia gets mad every 5 seconds because nobody aside from Violet stands inside her Starry Muse AoE... and because Ren isn't giving her any attention shgjjsg ^^; She purposefully tries to out-damage Moth in hopes of getting his attention, but it never works.

I also have some more Violet & Ren FFXIV headcanons here!!

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

Bestie I NEED to hear your thoughts about Harley and Bruce possibly being secret twins 👀👀👀👀👀

Been thinking about this for WEEKS i fear!!!! This came right as 'rona dragged me down I'm sorry this took so long!!!

I don't know or care about how secret twins happens, what happens in the bedroom of Thomas and Martha and Alfred Pennywayne is NONE of my business unless they invite me which is fine btw

since they're fraternal twins they COULD TECHNICALLY have different dads. am I saying Alfred is Harley's bio dad perhaps and the clown is going to have empty space where his head used to be but I digress. This explains SO MUCH I feel but also we should in no way think that the parents know this. They don't know nor care because THAT IS THEIR BABIESSS. it would probably be Bruce and Harley finding out when they're forty or something because someone needs a kidney. They purposefully forget the information. They don't need it.

And as insufferable as Thomas is with Baby Brucie can you IMAGINE how AWFUL he would be as a Girl Dad tm. I am thinking of your "if you detain one you detain both I KNOW MY RIGHTS" post but with two children!!. Also Thomas would be THEEE cattiest mfer amongst the other dance moms. My god Alfred and Martha would never know peace. Also a million zillion pictures of each parent konked out while holding 2 sleeping toddlers, THINK on it I beseech thee it's so cute. (But then, Thomas accidentally saving/kidnapping Harley from the park and Bruce and Harley INSISTING they are identical twins. Everyone is like no you really aren't until Thomas gives them the most murderous look known to man over their tiny heads. VERY funny when Jason and Cass also do this)

Maybe Harley was very very sickly as a baby and they kept her a secret to keep the press away. I can see family not talking about Martha's pregnancy AT ALL particularly if it was high risk in any way like she would be visibly pregnant due any day and someone would ask her if she was excited about the baby and she would deadass say 'what baby'.

The ideal scenario the Pennywaynes have for their offspring is that they keep the bambini hidden. as far as the press knows one day 18 year olds pop up outside the Wayne Manor as fully formed scions to the empire. You've never heard of them before? GOOD. That was the point.

Also the DRAMA, the ANGST, I think this makes sense with Bruce's weird dynamic with the Joker (though this could work with just siblings ig)?

Bruce doesn't want to kill the person his twin loves because it would hurt his twin, who HE loves. And killing the Joker could result in Harley hating him! Bruce trying so hard to be supportive for Harley and just be there for her so when she finally decides to leave the Joker she knows Bruce has her back.

Bruce knowing all the stuff about what support systems do that helps and hurts victims of intimate partner violence so he's always playing this balancing act of what he feels like he can say/do about him before it affects Harley. And it being his self given job to stop the Joker from doing HIS self given job. If he helps Gotham he hurts Harley. If he tries to help Harley, he hurts Gotham (does very interesting things to the brainworms when thinking about Jason's murder! about why Bruce feels like he can't or shouldn't go after the Joker--because he's proven he will kill a child and use their mother to get them, that is not a man above using his partner to hurt his nemesis!!! and that would be a whole thing for Bruce, he doesn't act because he's genuinely terrified, worried that if he fails he'll lose harley too

idk if the Joker would know about Harley and Bruce being related or Bruce being Batman but I could see this being the turning point for how Harley views the Joker. Like, she'd been going over to the Manor to help Jason talk through his feelings every month for years. Would it have mattered if the Joker knew he was her nephew?)

Also makes the weird sexual tension Bats has with the Joker even weirder if he IS aware of their relationship. He'd be so gross about it. Yes the Joker wants the Wayne twins. He flirts with them in front of the other to piss them off, mostly Harley. Would highkey lie and say Bruce was flirting with him to drive a wedge between Bruce and Harley oh my god I went such a not fun direction with this

Identical twins could be very funny if they were separated at birth no i do not know why they would be separated just roll with me. the one that does not transition is like "why do you have a picture of me as a kid this is creepy what do you mean that's you' . Everyone at college is like ha ha you two look like you could be related! You do the same icky face when you eat pineapple. They dOn'T sEe iT

Maybe she was kidnapped (by like a very young deathstroke or something idk) and SOMEhow Oswald Cobblepot winds up with this feral toddler in his possession. A goon made a terrible life choice perhaps? And Ozzie is just an up and coming crime lord, still settling into the family business, how tf is he supposed to know the Waynes are missing THIS child? if he knew don't you think he'd be extorting people??? I think they could have some very fun and adorable Stacker Pentecost and Mako Mori vibes this man has NO idea how to raise a child but by god!! He will do it right!!! Literally nobody knows about her, he would have people killed for suspecting her existence.

But also take your daughter to work day??!? Harley yelling at incompetent goons in a sweet baby voice. Ozzie is SO PROUD of her, he wouldn't have minded her going into the family business but she's going to be a doctor!! He is just a proud papa!!! Fearsome crime lord The Penguin with sparkle pink nail polish and bows stuck to his head having a tea party with Lil Harley.

I think this is ALSO interesting with the Joker!! I would love if the only reason his dumb ass wasn't taken out the moment he stepped foot in Gotham was because he's Harley's Boyfriend. The only thing stopping the rogues from turning on him is that Harley likes him!! Is he the Gotham version of a crypto-finance bro?

What if it's an older Harley who is kidnapped? Like post Thomas and Martha shooting. It's part of what cements Bruce's notoriety as the Last Wayne. (Everyone asks if he can sense her through their Twin Bond and he gets sooooo mad that's not a real thing!!!! He feels so guilty because if that was a real thing, shouldn't he be able to find her? Shouldn't he know????)

Cut to Batman and Joker in a showdown and there is Harley and Bats CAN'T STOP STARING?!??? why does she seem so familiar? The Joker notices of course and starts saying some very crass things but the IMPORTANT part is that at some point Harley mentions not minding beating up on Batman because she once had a baby brother who was terrified of bats, so she's doing this for him!!! And Bruce is like wait I once had an older sister and I'M afraid of bats?!?!

Harley looks at him REALLY HARD and all of the sudden she's screaming "BABY B????" and roundhouse kicking the Joker into some metal oil drums. NOBODY beats up her baby brother!!!!

The rogues go fucking insane

(the age thing. Harley is technically a day older than Bruce. She was born at 11:50 PM and he was born at 12:05 AM. They make older sibling/younger sibling jokes all the time and think they are very funny. The Batkids would disagree)

[qveerthe0ry]

If You're Crazy Too

Summary: It isn’t the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you, helping your friend with benefits confess his love for his longtime friend and roommate. But it’s definitely in the top ten. Word Count: 8,600 Pairing: Santi x m!amab!reader x Frankie Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, mutual masturbation, watching porn together, threesome, handjobs, ass eating, oral sex (m receiving), anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up), dirty talk, dom/sub undertones, polyamory Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar thank you both so much, you're angels for helping me through this <3 A/N: Special thanks to the author of this post for making an excellent resource for writing Spanish in fics, it came SO in handy. Also thanks to @triplefrontier-anniversary for inspiring me to finish getting this brainworm all written down before the deadline!

Santi is an incredible fuck. Also, he’s a fairly sweet guy. 

You met him at your favorite club. He’d been dancing with men and women all night long, graceful and respectful, and you itched to get your turn with him. 

When you finally got the chance, his body was solid and sweaty and sure against your own. 

You could barely hear him over the music when he told you, lips brushing over your ear, that he was hoping you’d seek him out. 

He kissed you, after a few songs, and you met it with an eagerness you didn’t even know you had in you. It wasn’t long before he asked you to come back to his place, and he made you fall apart underneath him. 

The morning after wouldn’t have been awkward, either, if his roommate hadn’t been cooking breakfast for the both of you. 

Santi introduced him as “Frankie, or Catfish, or Fish.” He was gorgeous, too, in a softer way than Santi. His brown eyes were wider and less menacing than Santi’s, and his curls peeked out under a well-worn trucker’s cap.

He said it was nice to meet you, and asked how you liked your eggs, and if you were way too loud the night before with Santi, he didn’t mention it. You did, however, catch him sneaking glances at Santi while the three of you ate, and wondered what they meant. 

It didn’t matter much at the time when you thought you’d never see Santi again. But he walked you to your Uber after breakfast, and asked if you maybe wanted to do this again, no pressure, no strings attached. And you did. So you exchanged numbers and he kissed you on the cheek before sending you off. 

You’ve met up with him a few times now. Each time Frankie makes himself scarce. You either hear the TV in his room, or you pass him on your way in, telling you he’s got errands to run. What errands he’s running at 10pm, you’re not sure you want to know, but you don’t think much of it. 

Until now. You knock on the front door of their apartment and hear voices, too muffled to make anything out clearly. 

Santi answers before too long with a smile, and you follow, intent to trail him to his bedroom like you usually do. 

This time, though, Frankie’s sat on the couch in the living room, a beer in his hand, and he looks like someone just kicked his puppy.

“Am I, uh, interrupting something? We can rain check.” 

Frankie looks to you, and then to Santi, and you feel like you have your answer before either of them speak. 

“No, no, you haven’t interrupted anything,” Santi starts, “it’s just our favorite OnlyFans guy released a new video a few days ago and we haven’t had the chance to watch it yet. Fish is a little eager.”

“Fuck you, I’m not. Just thought we were watching it today is all. No big deal.” 

It’s a lot of information to process, that these two not only share a favorite OnlyFans creator, but watch his videos together. And— not to assume, but you’re sure they probably do other things together too. 

“Oh… I mean, I don’t want to ruin your plans.”

“It’s fine—“

Frankie’s reassurance is cut off by Santi though, something that seems like a common occurrence by the way he settles back into his seat and closes his lips when Santi begins to speak. 

“You wanna watch with us? First orgasm of the night, but I promise I’ll make it up to you after.” 

And fuck it, you think. It isn’t quite what you imagined when you left your place, but it doesn’t sound like a terrible way to spend your Friday night. 

“I’m down,” you shrug, and Santi’s eyes crinkle when he smiles and winks at you. 

He turns the lights off while Frankie casts the video to the TV. You settle in the armchair, as Fish looks a little uncomfortable, but he assures you he isn’t when you check in with him. 

Santi takes the opposite side of the couch as Frankie, and then he’s ordering him to start the video. 

The bar on the bottom reads 45:06. Longer than you expected. The video is well-edited with soft royalty-free music over a logo that fades when the man appears on screen. 

You chance a small glance at the couch. You aren’t really sure what the etiquette is here, but neither of them seem to be making any moves yet, hands resting on their own thighs. You mirror them, subtly shifting to do so, and avert your eyes to the television once more. 

The man on the screen is a wicked dirty talker. He spends a good five minutes telling the viewer what he wants done to him. He’s also quite submissive by the sounds of it, which shouldn’t come as a surprise to you. Santi loves the way you submit to him, tells you so every time you hook up. 

You find yourself wondering what Frankie likes in the bedroom, if he’s also just as dominant as Santi, if he’s more sweet or hardened, if he would be vocal like Santi or more reserved like he seems to be in his daily life. 

Before you realize it, the man on the screen is stripping down into a skimpy, lacy set of underthings. His cock is on the smaller side but rock hard and leaking, tenting his little lacy briefs in a deliciously obscene display. Your cock stirs at the sight, and you peek over at the couch again. 

Frankie’s palming the bulge in his sweatpants, eyes glued to the screen so diligently that you think it’s calculated. Santi, in contrast, has his hand under the waistband of his gym shorts already. 

But you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker from the screen, and not to you, but to Frankie, flitting up and down quickly from his face to his lap. 

You try not to sigh too loudly as you cradle your own package, half-hard in your own skimpy briefs you wore just for Santi. You watch as the man on the screen turns his back to the camera and bends over, allows the camera to get a full view of the outline of the plug nestled between his juicy ass cheeks. 

The air in the room feels humid, almost too hot as the video goes on. You definitely get why this guy is their favorite OnlyFans creator. He’s gorgeous, first of all, all lithe muscle, soft in the perfect places. And he’s an incredible performer. He talks to the camera like he’s talking to you, desperate and breathy. It doesn’t take long for your prick to fully fill out in your briefs. 

The camera angle changes on screen. It cuts to him on all fours on the bed, his hole gaping from removing the plug, his pretty pink cock leaking between his legs. A rough grunt from your left has your eyes wandering to the couch again. 

Santi’s cock is out, and the sight alone makes your mouth water. Thick and glistening in his big hand, his balls sat atop the waistband of his shorts. Your own throbs under the pressure of your palm, and you let yourself sneak a look at Frankie, too. 

He’s finally got his hand down his pants, and you almost feel bad for wondering what his cock is like, too. If it would mirror the differences between he and Santi’s bodies, longer but thinner. You wonder if he’s uncut like Santi is, and you wonder what he’d taste like. 

A loud whimper makes you peel your eyes away from the couch and look back at the TV. The guy is three fingers deep in himself, fucking them in along with the messy amount of lube he’s used. It’s fucking hot, and you throw all caution to the wind to unzip your jeans and pull your cock free from its confines. 

“He’s fucking hot right?” 

You turn your head to Santi at the sound of his voice. Your heart picks up at the sight of him, one hand stroking his balls while the other works slowly up and down his shaft. 

You squeeze your own in response. 

“Yeah, not exactly my type but he’s still doing it for me.” 

Santi chuckles, nods his head back to the screen. But before you turn back yourself, you see Fish glance at Santi out of the corner of his eye. He starts to shuffle his waistband down his hips, but you turn away before you see anything you think you shouldn’t. 

The guy on the screen is limber. On his back now, knees pressed to his chest, he’s whining and whimpering while he fucks himself with a big, realistic dildo. 

It’s massive, much bigger than any real cock you’ve taken, but you guess that’s some of the appeal. You try to quietly spit in your hand, then spread it up and down as you lazily stroke yourself off to the video. 

It’s loud. The obscene squelching and consequential moans fill the living room, but not enough that you can’t hear the strokes from both Santi and Frankie on the couch next to you. Occasionally you hear a muffled curse, or a stilted gasp, and you can’t be sure which man they’re coming from but you want to hear more. 

You glance over again. Your eyes land on Santi first, of course, who’s almost shamelessly staring at Frankie’s crotch, the way he lifts his hips to fuck into his fist every few thrusts. 

Frankie’s cock is longer, and thinner, and you’re delighted to find that he isn’t circumcised either, the fat head of his cock disappearing and reappearing from under his foreskin. 

He turns his head, and you stop stroking your cock all together, afraid of Fish’s reaction to you sneaking a peek. Only, when you meet his eyes to shoot him an apologetic look, he’s not looking at you. 

He’s looking at Santi, staring, eyes roaming up and down his body, lingering where he fists his prick, then back up again. You’re stunned still at how intimate it feels, the heat in Frankie’s gaze as he licks his plush lips. 

You turn your eyes back to the video with a pounding heartbeat. Your erection begins to wane as you stare through the TV. You can’t get it out of your mind, the way they look at each other. You’re surprised they haven’t caught each other looking yet. The heat from both of their gazes looked tangible, hungry and yearning. It’s as plain as day to you, on the outside looking in. 

“Ah fuck—” 

The curse is not from Santi. Your eyes trail over just in time to see Frankie pull his shirt up and spill across his stomach. His eyes are closed, head thrown back against the wall behind the couch, and you see Santi’s fist speed up, a blur of tan skin. 

You watch him watch Frankie, unabashed now as Fish’s eyes are shut in bliss, and Santi comes too with a deep hum, closing his own eyes just in time for Frankie to open his and look at the both of you. 

He quickly averts his gaze when he sees you staring, reaches for the tissue box on the coffee table in front of him. In a move that looks so familiar, he pulls out two for himself, and then two for Santi, handing them over with practiced ease. 

Santi pants out a gruff gracias and uses one to clean up with, then holds out his hand to offer you the other. 

“Oh— no thanks, I’m good. Didn’t quite get there.” 

Santi hums, uses the extra tissue to finish wiping himself up. 

“What’s wrong, hermoso? Have I ruined you for all other men?”

His grin is cocky when he asks, tucking himself back into his shorts. 

“Yeah Santi, that’s it.”

You roll your eyes and look over to Fish as if to say this fuckin’ guy, but he’s busy boring a hole into the paused TV screen like his life depends on it. 

Your dick is hanging fairly limp out of your underwear, so you stow it away, pull your jeans back up. 

“Don’t bother,” Santi tells you, nodding his head toward his bedroom, “let me make it up to you now.” 

So with your fly undone, you stand on weary legs and follow Santi to his room. When you make it, you turn back to Frankie, to say thank you or sorry, you can’t be sure, because he’s already closing his own bedroom door behind him. 

Santi makes good on his promise, though. He eats your ass for what feels like hours, until you’re shaking and begging for him to fuck you. And then he does, somehow riding the perfect line between rough and tender, holding your back against his front with one big hand on your chest as you both kneel on the bed. His other hand works your cock so perfectly that you come unglued in a grand way, like you always do with him. 

He cleans you up after, gentle. He’s a huge cuddler, so it doesn’t phase you anymore when he spoons you close and presses his mouth along the little love bites he’s left. 

“You really aren’t into subs, are you? Not even a little bit?” 

You know he’s referencing your lack of interest in the video. You could agree with him, or you could tell him the truth. You’re not sure what to do, and so you sit in silence for some time before you decide to bite the bullet. 

“It isn’t that. I mean, I am more into doms but— that wasn’t it.” 

You feel him go stiff behind you. 

“Shit, was that too weird for you? I didn’t mean to force you into—“

“No! No, Santi, it was fine. I just— you’re into Frankie, right?” 

Air escapes his lungs in something akin to a sob. 

“What!? Why would you say that?”

He’s not denying it, which is a good step. 

“C’mon man, you were watching him more than you were watching the TV.”

“Pendejo, no I wasn’t.” 

“Pendejo” you mock him, “don’t gaslight me. I don’t care. This isn’t, we’re no strings, right? I’m just saying, I don’t wanna come between this thing.”

“There’s no thing to come between. Even if you were right, which you’re not, Fish isn’t into me like that.”

You laugh. 

“O-kay.”

“Don’t ‘okay’ me. How would you know? You’ve known him for a grand total of an hour and a half.” 

“He was looking at you, too. You know that, right? You’re just in denial?”

“I would’ve seen if he was looking at me.”

“Because you were looking at him.”

“Fine! Okay, I was looking at him. He wasn’t looking at me so what’s it even matter?” 

“He was, Santi. He was looking at your cock and licking his lips like he was starved. I saw it.”

Santi huffs behind you, and it tickles your neck. 

“I’m not lying to you. I’m not in love with you or anything but I care about you a little bit.”

His arm around you tightens for a beat.

“Awww, so sweet, querido.”

“Shut up,” you huff, “you’re changing the subject. He was looking at you, like he’s always looking at you. I’ve watched him moon over you every single breakfast I’ve eaten here. You know how bad that makes me feel, eating the breakfast he made me while your cum drips out of me?”

“Fuck, why’d you say it like that? That’s so hot.”

“Because it’s true. If you guys have feelings for each other you need to figure that out before I die of a guilty conscience.”

You can practically feel Santi’s eyes roll behind you. 

“Dramático,” he groans. 

“You do have feelings for him. It seems like he does too. Get your poop in a group about it, man.”

“Will you still stay over? I’ll need a morning fuck if this is the way my weekend’s gonna go.” 

——

I can’t do it. Frankie’s visiting his kid this weekend

The text comes a few hours after you shared your now routine, dysfunctional family breakfast, where Fish was indeed making googly eyes at Santi, and Santi’s cum was indeed leaking out into your underwear.

Likely story

No really. I don’t want to mess with his vibes, his kid is super important to him. It’s cute.

Oh my god just fuck him already

I’m TRYING okay? Can you help? I need moral support.

And look, it isn’t the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you, helping your friend with benefits confess his love for his longtime friend and roommate. But it’s definitely in the top ten. 

So the two of you devise a plan. It’s convoluted as all hell, but also fairly simple. The next time their OnlyFans guy posts a video, Santi invites you over to watch again. Conveniently, just before you arrive, he spills a glass of red wine all over the seat of the armchair, and soaks the cushion trying to get the stain out of the beige fabric. 

You show up, ‘none the wiser.’ Still, the vibes are absolutely weird in their two bedroom apartment. Frankie’s fidgeting on the couch, and Santi misses your cheek and plants a kiss to your eyelid. You have to get these boys together. 

The plan goes off without a hitch from there. Santi flicks off the lights, and Frankie casts the video to the TV, just like they did last time, just like they’ve probably done dozens of times before. But now, the armchair is out of commission, so you all squeeze together on the couch. Santi’s in the middle, of course, his thick thigh pressing against your own as you all point your attention to the flatscreen. 

You’re kind of excited. It’s a weird thing for you to be excited about, but you weren’t lying all those days ago. You do care for Santi. And Fish too, really, if only for the delicious breakfasts he makes, and for making Santi happy. 

This time, you don’t wait for any of their cues. You pull your cock out as soon as the OnlyFans guy starts stripping his clothes. Santi grabs your hand, and for a second you think you’ve ruined the plan. But then spits into it, and Frankie groans from Santi’s other side as he watches the display. You moan a little too, partly for show, partly for the way Santi never fails to make your dick rock hard in record time. 

You stroke yourself, and it goads the boys into pulling their pants down, too. The guy on the screen is doing things a little differently this time, fingering a see-through fleshlight as he lubes it up. This is hotter to you, anyway. It doesn’t take long at all for pre-cum to gather at your slit and slick your strokes even more. 

By the time the guy is fucking into it with timid strokes, whimpering through the speakers, Santi still hasn’t made a move. You elbow him in the side, and he flinches, then elbows you right back. 

You turn your head toward him, make like you’re kissing his neck, because Frankie’s eyes are about to pop out of his skull with the way he’s got them trained on Santi. 

“Go on. You already have an audience,” you whisper. 

Santi shudders, and Frankie looks away. Just in time, too. Santi eyes the way Fish is stroking himself, and then you hold your breath as Santi lifts his hand and wraps it around the base of Frankie’s cock. 

“Ohmyfuckinggod.”

Frankie’s head thunks against the wall behind him, and his hips jolt up into the touch. You’re watching without any hesitation now, and Fish’s eyes are closed anyway. Santi squeezes and Frankie whimpers and scrambles to find Santi’s cock without looking. 

“Fuck, Fish. Yeah?”

Santi’s voice is dripping with arousal, low and gruff, his cock twitching in Frankie’s grasp. 

“Please, please.”

Frankie finally opens his eyes, lets his head loll to the side to look at Santi. But his eyes quickly flutter to you, his expression twisting up in confusion. 

“Santi, what—“

“Shhh, hermano, s’okay.”

You lean forward, and for a moment you’re having an out-of-body experience, watching yourself cradle into Santi’s side, not knowing if you’re helping or hurting their cause, but wanting to reassure them both that this is a good thing.

Frankie takes the encouragement for what it is, allowing himself to fuck up into Santi’s fist and look at him with hooded eyes, mouth gaping open. 

Like a fish, you think, and chuckle against Santi’s neck. 

“What’s happening? Why?”

Frankie looks between the two of you for an answer, and you bite down on Santi’s earlobe to goad him to answer. 

“He caught you looking, last time. Caught me looking at you, too. Put two and two together for me. This okay?”

Frankie shudders and closes his eyes, but nods his head. 

You watch both of them, their hands on each other’s pricks, their hips meeting the thrust of foreign fists. 

“Waited so long,” Frankie whispers. 

“Lo sé, me too.”

Their faces inch toward each other, and you nuzzle the curls at the nape of Santi’s neck. To encourage him, or maybe to shield your eyes from the intimate moment, or probably both. 

You feel the kiss, the way Santi’s neck cranes and flexes, and you hear the ragged moans from their lungs, and you are rock hard.

But your work here is done. You may need to jerk off in Santi’s bathroom before you leave, lest you tumble down the apartment stairs since there’s hardly any blood flow to anywhere other than your dick. 

But as you make to get up, Santi’s free hand plants firmly on your thigh. You still behind him, a rush of awkwardness flushes through your system. 

His head leans back when he pulls away from the kiss, and you watch the way Frankie physically recovers from it, takes a big lungful of air and slowly opens his eyes, licks the taste of Santi from his lips. 

“What do you think, Fish? Should we thank him?” 

Your cock throbs where it’s pressed against Santi, and you feel him chuckle, but Frankie’s nodding his head fast and looking straight at you. 

“Yeah, yes,” he answers, breathless. 

“My bedroom or yours, hermano?”

“I couldn’t give any less of a shit.”

They both laugh, and you find it in you to huff, but it’s anything but authentic when all you can think about is having these two men in bed with you, thanking you. 

“Go get comfy, yeah? We’ll be there in a minute,” Santi tells you. 

You’ve never moved more swiftly in your life, and you’re sure it looks so graceful, walking to Santi’s room with your hard prick swaying in the wind. But you, like Frankie, couldn’t give any less of a shit. 

You undress in the now familiar bedroom, lie back on freshly washed sheets as you hear Santi and Frankie mumble, incoherent all the way out in the living room. Your heart rate picks up when you hear footsteps, but only one pair, and Santi struts in. You can hear rustling from beyond the door, a kitchen cabinet opening and closing. 

“He‘a grabbing us some waters. I wanted to check in, make sure this is all okay? I know it wasn’t the plan.”

Now you laugh. 

“Is it okay? Do I want two gorgeous men thanking me for squishing their heads together like Barbie dolls? It’s more than okay.”

Santi clicks his tongue at you. 

“No need for the sass.”

Your blood runs cold at his tone shift, even as his lips quirk up just the tiniest bit at each corner. 

Frankie walks in, then, and almost looks startled by the staring match happening. Still, he wades further into the room, sets a few glasses of water down on the nightstand. 

You’re suddenly feeling self-conscious, naked and spread out on the bed in front of these two men, fully clothed and practically leering at you. Frankie’s not so shy now; you can feel his eyes on you as they roam across every inch of exposed skin. It’s a heated, tense moment that only breaks when Santi tugs Frankie to him by the hem of his shirt. 

Christ, is it hot to watch, the way Fish’s body goes lax as Santi’s tenses, grabbing the back of his neck. His strong arm flexes as his hand gets lost in Frankie’s curls. They share a kiss that looks like less lips and more teeth. Then Santi’s sliding his hands under Frankie’s shirt, along his flanks, exposing smooth, tan skin. 

They part to fling their shirts off, and you can’t help it, you reach down to touch yourself. You’re watching something beautiful. Their dance is stilted with novelty but still looks so easy, familiar in an unfamiliar way. 

Their noses bump together awkwardly at times, but their hands map out patterns across each other’s bodies that look practiced, like they’ve done this thousands of times before, if only in their dreams. 

And they look incredible together. Santi’s thick and bulky, skin so taught over his frame. And Frankie is leaner, corded muscle covered in softer flesh. It looks so squeezable. It is, you find out, second-hand, by the way Santi grabs him by the hips and pulls him closer, just to push him away to get his pants down. 

They don’t part for long, and you’re stuck in this haze, a participant only by the way you’re sliding your hand lazily up and down your shaft while you watch them. Santi hasn’t waxed since you first met him, and now all that chest hair is growing in, a stark contrast to Fish’s hairless one. And you know it feels incredible, to be in Frankie’s position, getting scratched by all that wiry hair. You know his own hairless chest will be red and splotchy by the time the night ends, like yours has been countless nights before. 

Finally, they come up for air, naked and heaving breaths across each other’s faces as they share a look. Santi raises his strong brow, tilts his head in your direction, and you’re snapped out of your voyeuristic state. 

“Let’s show some gratitude, yeah?” 

His voice is all low and hoarse, and you watch it affect Frankie in the same way it affects you, cocks jumping. And fuck, Fish does exactly as he’s told once Santi coaxes him with a playful slap to his ass. He crawls up between your legs, and his full lips are even more so now, bitten and slick and deep red. Glancing up at you with those long, pretty, fluttery lashes, his sweet brown eyes are all heavy-lidded and hesitant. 

“This is okay?” 

His voice is small, and he’s so goddamn perfect. 

“Yes, Frankie. Please.”

You both exhale at the same time, and then he gets to it, immediately. His tongue hangs out of his mouth when he opens it wide, and he wastes no time sinking down on your prick. 

“Jesus Christ, Fish.” 

You damn near give yourself whiplash to look over to Santi, frozen in place next to the bed, eyes glued to where you and Frankie connect. The latter moans around your cock, encouraged to bob his head faster already, take you deeper. 

“Knew you’d be such a good little cocksucker with those pretty lips. Fuck.” 

It’s so hot, it’s too hot. You’re going to blow in record time with the warmth of Frankie’s mouth and the filth Santi is reciting. 

He must see it in your face, the panic of this all being over way quicker than you want it to be. He kneels on the bed beside you both, gets a hand in Fish’s silky curls and you see the shudder that cascades down his body. 

“Not a race, hermano,” Santi says, tugging at his hair to get him to lift off of your leaking prick. 

Fish stares, wide-eyes and ragged breathing, as Santi arranges himself to lie beside him, both of their faces now inches from your throbbing cock. 

“Control freak,” Frankie mumbles, but the smile on his face makes any heat from his words dissipate.

Santi punishes him with a bruising kiss anyway. Your hips jolt as Frankie’s hair brushes across your dick, so on-edge that even that whisper of a touch sends you reeling. 

Santi chuckles around Fish’s bottom lip that he’s got between his teeth. 

“He so sensitive, Fish. Gotta take it slow, alright?” 

It makes your entire body burn, the way he’s talking about you like you’re not even there. The way he’s been guiding Frankie through everything so far, and the way Frankie follows so obediently. 

Santi shuffles a bit, and Fish does too, so in-sync that you almost laugh. Their unplanned choreography has them both straddling one of your legs respectively, arms in between, their hands finding each other just close enough to your heavy sac that you can feel the heat coming off of them. 

They both look up at you, and for a moment everything is so eerily perfect that it feels like you’re in some sick, twisted Truman Show remake, and this was all a ploy to get you into bed with them. 

But then Santi looks at Frankie, a soft bueno? uttered toward him, and Frankie nods. Santi leans in, for what you assume is to kiss him more, but his nose brushes the base of your shaft. And then Fish leans in too, his own strong nose nuzzling just under your head. 

Your hands find purchase on the backs of their necks, a light touch to ground yourself as you watch. It’s so fucking intimate, and you’re the catalyst for their exploration, and it’s driving you up the goddamn wall. Your curse and watch twin grins break out on their faces. 

Shitheads, both of them. 

They continue on with this dance, breathing in your scent as they nose up and down your cock. Their eyes open and close, but their gazes always seem to land on each other at the same time. 

And then Santi leads, licking a long stripe up the side of you. Frankie follows eagerly once he catches on, meeting him for a sloppy dance of tongues all over the head of your dick, your frenulum, lapping up the pre-cum that’s been steadily leaking from your slit. 

It jerks wildly under their loose attention, and Frankie chuckles deep and low as he chases your cock and Santi’s mouth at the same time. Your nails start to bite into their napes, the burning in your gut becoming far too intense. 

“Guys,” you gasp, “I— fuck. I can’t.” 

Santi hums, leaves a playful nip at the base of your prick that nearly sends you over the edge. Fish lets up, intent to lick up every last drop of your taste from Santi’s mouth, and groans when he succeeds.

You’re all left panting for a minute. You can’t decide who to look at. Santi’s head has fallen onto your thigh, and Frankie’s propped up on an elbow, staring down at him, all along the dips and curves of his tan skin. Santi gets a hand around Fish’s cock, thumbing under the head in slow circles, soothing and relaxed. 

“Everyone still having a good time?” 

Santi’s tone implies he already knows the answer. A weak Jesus, yes huffs out of your vocal chords, just as Frankie nods his head eagerly where it rests in his palm. 

Santi cranes his neck to look up at you, and already you know you’re in for it, a wicked glint in his eyes. 

“You want Fish to fuck you?” 

Your cock throbs near their heads, and Frankie snorts. 

“Think that’s a yes, huh?”

You answer Fish with a nod. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone but Santi. The thought shorts out all the wires in your system as you realize you get to learn him this way, what he’s into, what he’ll want to do to you, and how different it is from his counterpart. 

“All fours, both of you. He’ll let you eat his ass for hours, Fish,” Santi instructs. 

“Jesus.”

If it weren’t for the way Frankie scrambles to get into position, you’d ask if he was alright with it. But once he’s hovering on his hands and knees between your legs, he’s manhandling you to do the same, and you love it.

Your cock sways and leaks between your thighs, and Fish pulls and tugs to get you exactly how he wants you. You feel even more exposed than usual like this, with these two men behind you. He spreads you open for him, and you feel your hole clench and relax as it’s exposed to the humid air of the bedroom. 

Then he spits, perfectly aimed, and you feel his saliva trickle all the way down your taint, tickling your balls as it drips onto the sheets. 

A puff of hot air is all the warning you get before his tongue is following that same trail in reverse, all the way up to where your crack meets your back, and then back down, and your elbows buckle and so does your resolve. 

You moan a mix of curses and Frankie’s name, and it only eggs him on, gets him to zero in on your rim with his tongue, circling then flicking, over and over. 

You try to crane your neck enough to see Santi when you hear him swear. 

“You really fuckin’ like this. Don’t you, Fish?” 

All you can see is his tight curls behind Frankie’s own arched back, and his big hands wrapped around Frankie’s slender hips. 

You feel Frankie answer him, an incoherent groan into your asshole as the tip of his tongue breaches you. 

You’re on fire. Your cock is leaking a really pathetic stream onto Santi’s bedding, neglected, and you know you won’t come without any friction, but you also don’t want to. Not for a while, not until you get to feel Frankie’s cock inside you, get to see Santi watch him fuck you. 

You’re anything but impatient, though. Santi was right, the smug asshole. You could keep Fish here for eternity, especially with how fucking diligent his tongue is, lapping you up and pressing inside of you, over and over. It’s dizzying, especially when he begins making desperate noises against you. 

You know he’s in for the time of his life. Santi, as smug as he is, loves eating your ass ‘for hours.’ He’s fucking sloppy with it, and he does this thing with his thumbs that drives you—

“Fuck! Ay dios, Pope, what the fuck?”

Frankie falls lax into you, his nose against your hole and his lips brushing your taint as he curses. 

“Yeah, you like that? Want me inside this cute little ass?” 

Fish whines, shifts his face so he can bite the tender flesh where your thigh and ass meet, and all you can do is groan and push back into him as he gives Santi his answer. 

“Damelo, need you, please.”

Santi hums, and you can tell by how it’s muffled that his mouth is once again occupied. Frankie recovers, though his tongue is much less coordinated now, a messy flurry of licks as he prods at your entrance. 

Then you hear it, the click of a bottle opening, bouncing off the bedroom walls in a familiar way. You clench around Frankie’s tongue, a Pavlovian response, and he groans and fits his lips around your hole and sucks. 

You’re babbling now, strings of nonsense, begging, and praise in the otherwise silent bedroom. You know the exact moment Santi sinks his thick finger inside of Frankie, because you feel him stiffen and shake against you, feel his nails dig into the meat of your cheeks where he’s spreading you open. 

His mouth retreats, and you whine, but he’s tugging on you again to get you to lie on your back. 

It’s a fucking sight when you’re finally able to watch. Fish has his back arched like a goddamn cat, presenting his ass to Santi, mouth gaping open at his skilled fingers.

Santi’s looking over him, one large hand splayed out on his back to keep him still as he fucks into him with what you assume is at least three fingers, the way Frankie’s drool is dripping from the corner of his mouth. Santi’s eyes are glued to his ministrations, where he’s slowly thrusting in and out, his big bicep flexing as he goes. 

He manages to tear his eyes away, though, to look at you and wink. 

“How’d he do? Think he deserves to fuck you, papi?”

You whimper at the mere thought of it, finally feeling him inside you. 

You shake your head, but Santi tuts. 

“Yeah— Yes, Santi. He did so good.” 

Santi’s lips tilt up into a wicked smirk.

“There he is, that’s it, tell Francisco how good he is for us, huh?”

You see Frankie’s cock throb between his legs, hear a pathetic little noise fall from his lips. You and Santi both get a curious but delighted look on your faces at his reaction. 

“Did so good, Francisco.” 

He shivers, hides his face in the bedding between your thighs for a hot minute. A lungful of air escapes him, slow and methodical, before he tilts his head back to Santi. 

“Lube?” 

Santi huffs, tosses the bottle next to Fish’s head. 

“Doesn’t take long for him. He likes the stretch, don’t you bebito?”

You huff, and your face feels hot and prickly as both men look at you. You squirm, and you don’t want to answer, you want at least a tiny bit of pride going into this, because you know you’re bound to come out the other side with absolutely none. 

“He asked you a question,” Frankie says. 

His gruff voice makes your breath catch. 

Santi hums his approval behind him. 

“Yeah, yeah, just— just two, give me two and I’ll be good.”

“What do you say, papi?” 

And Jesus, this is the most Frankie’s said all night and it has your toes curling. 

“Please, Frankie.”

He makes a patronizing, satisfied noise that makes you want to hide but also expose yourself even more. You want to give him everything, him and Santi, let them use you to get their pleasure however they want. 

But then Fish groans, and you see Santi’s arm twisting behind him, reaching for that perfect spot. He makes a mess squirting lube out onto his fingers, and you at least have enough control of your faculties to lift your sac out of the way so Frankie can spread it across your hole. 

It twitches under his fingers, begging, and so are you, just incoherent babbles as he teases you, toys with you. You think you maybe could wait him out, knowing he doesn’t get his until his cock is pressed inside you, but you don’t want to. 

“Fuck,” you whimper, “please fuck me.” 

“Yeah, good boy, there you are.” 

You open your eyes at Santi’s voice. 

“Give him what he wants, Fish. Give it to him so I can fuck you.” 

Two fingers, right off the bat, pressed in slowly but surely in one swoop to the knuckle. You cry out, reaching for purchase and finding the bedsheets to twist into your clenched fists. 

“You’re okay, you can take it, right?” 

And it’s so goddamn mind-blowing, Santi talking you through it with Frankie’s fingers deep inside you.

You nod, opening your eyes again to look up at him. His eyes are so dark, and he’s stroking his thick cock as he continues stretching Fish out, and he looks hungry. He licks his lips and watches where Frankie’s fucking into you, boring holes where you’re connected. You have to reach down with your free hand and squeeze the base of your prick to get yourself together. 

It doesn’t take long for you to adjust, to relax around his digits with a few deep breaths. He praises you, that’s it, take ‘em so well, wanna be fucked so bad don’t you? Your head spins with it as he works you open. Little by little your legs spread wider for him, hips canting up to direct him to the spot inside you that you want him to reach so desperately. 

But he doesn’t. Once it’s obvious you’re ready to take him, he slips his fingers out and wipes the residue on the inside of your thigh. 

“Gonna take me now?” 

It’s a rhetorical question, obviously, as he grips behind your knees and pushes them to your chest. You answer anyway, your own voice so foreign to your ears as you plead for him. 

Santi shushes you, and that familiar noise is calming enough to bring you back down to Earth, where he’s resting behind Frankie, one hand caressing his chest while the other grips his waist. 

“Wanna be inside you, Fish,” he mumbles, nose pressed behind his ear, lips teasing his earlobe. 

Fish’s eyes close, but he guides the head of his dick to your entrance and sinks in, blinding pressure as the head of him stretches you wide. When it slips past, you both gasp, and Santi groans into Frankie’s neck as he watches. 

It feels like years, waiting for him to seat himself all the way inside you. It burns in the best way, friction that has goosebumps dotting every square inch of skin. 

But then his thighs reach the backs of yours. He curses, moves your legs out of the way so he can cover your body with his own. Santi’s gaze is heavy where it falls, the place you and Frankie are fused together, as he spreads a healthy dollop of lube over his prick. 

“Ready for me, baby?” 

It’s palpable, the way the energy of the room shifts when Santi presses closer behind Frankie. Like he’s about to step off a ledge, Fish’s eyes widen and he looks at you with his brows drawn up tight. You reach for his curls, run your fingers through them, scrape your nails across his scalp in hopes that it evens out his breathing a bit. 

Past Frankie’s shaking form, Santi’s expression is nearly identical. His bottom lip is caged between his teeth, brow furrowed, shoulders squared. His eyes flicker to you, and his features soften just a fraction before his hips begin to press forward. 

Frankie sobs at first contact. His sweaty forehead falls to your chest. His cock is jerking inside you, rhythmic pulses as you watch Santi’s hips slowly inch forward. 

“Relax for me, Fish. Deep breaths, baby. I’ve got you, take it for me.”

Santi sounds so wrecked. His voice is wispy, and so deep you can hardly hear from the bass in it. He’s never really sounded this way before, and the reality of this entire situation makes you clench around Frankie’s throbbing cock. 

Santi curses in whispers, and you watch the sweat from his forehead drip down, between his eyes, down his nose, and drip onto Frankie’s heated skin. And then Frankie shifts, pulling out of you. And then, you realize, pressing Santi’s cock deeper inside himself. 

You groan at the revelation, chase Fish’s hips with your own, a domino effect that sets both of them off as well. It doesn’t take much at all for them to find the right pace, like this is just as natural as everything else they do together. For a while you just take it in, let Frankie get his pleasure from you, let them discover the feeling of being so close to each other after a long while of only imagining. 

Santi’s signature filthy mouth doesn’t make an appearance. Instead, he looks stunned silent above the both of you. His mouth hangs open like he wants to say something, but all that leaves his lips are grunts and groans that Frankie echoes into your sternum. His eyes don’t know where to look, so they float between where he’s fucking Frankie, and your own roaming eyes, and finally land where your hand grips Frankie’s hair. 

He lets go of one of Fish’s hips to tangle his fingers with your own, tugging on those chestnut curls. Frankie slams his hips into you at the sensation, bites down on the meat of your pec and keens before he lets Santi’s grip pull his head back. 

His eyes are completely fucking black, no iris to be found when his heavy eyelids open to look at you. And it’s a very strange thing, when you watch him look right through you and call out Santi’s name. 

Strange, but fucking hot. 

“Let it happen, Fish.”

“No. I– I can’t.”

“You can, fuck, don’t hold it. Come inside so I can fuck it out of him.”

Frankie crumbles. You watch it happen, his eyes snapping shut as he chokes on a high-pitched sound. His face twists up, and you feel his hips stutter against you as he starts chanting Santi’s name, over and over. His cock jerks with every wave of his release, and he’s shaking, collapsing dead-weight on top of you. 

“That’s it, did so good. Feel so fucking good squeezing me Fish.” 

You’re momentarily squished by the weight of two grown men when Santi rests against Frankie’s back. He kisses where he can reach, soothing the place on his scalp where he was tugging at the hairs. 

“Mierda, Santi, get off you fucking oaf.” 

And it’s cute, the way Frankie gets so grumpy even after he’s just come his brains out. You ruffle his hair, when he’s finally not sandwiched between you two, let him collapse beside you instead with a sweaty arm draped across your middle. 

You only have a few moments to appreciate the tenderness before Santi’s lifting your leg onto his shoulder pressing his thick fingers inside you. The noise is obscene, and Santi swears as Frankie’s cum trickles out of you. 

You know you’re in for it now. Santi sets his jaw and arranges your hips so he can slide right into you. You moan at the feeling, and the knowledge of where his cock has just been, noises tumbling out of you as he picks up the pace where Frankie left off. 

And you almost forget about Fish, caught up in the pleasure of Santi railing you just how he knows you like. But then a warm, trembling hand wraps around your cock, even though Santi’s own are gripping onto you tight, and it’s heaven. 

“Let me see you come,” Frankie says, voice all hoarse and worn out. 

You whine, loll your head to the side to look at him. 

But this time Santi’s hand is grabbing you, just shy of too rough when he takes your chin in his hand. 

“You look at me. Look at me when I make you come, papi.” 

And you take it as an order, because Frankie’s hand speeds up and squeezes tighter, and Santi’s fucking into you deep and fast like he does when he’s about to come. 

You shake with it when it finally happens. Your spend splashes down Fish’s knuckles, up your stomach, your chest, christ some of it even lands on your chin. And you know you’re babbling but you don’t know what words you’re using, only know that they come from high in your throat as you gasp for air. 

Santi follows you so closely, burying himself impossibly deep as he releases. You hear Frankie encouraging him, but the sound is miles away as your head swims in that familiar, blissful place. 

When the ringing in your ears settles, and your vision unblurs, and all your nerve endings don’t feel like they’re on fire anymore, Santi’s cock has been replaced by his tongue. You give a weak protest at the overstimulation as his greedy mouth licks the mess out of you. It doesn’t matter, he comes up for air just as soon as you realize where he’s at. 

Your bleary eyes watch as Santi leans over you, grabs Fish’s face in his hands and tugs at his bottom lip with one of his thumbs. Frankie opens his mouth, obedient as ever, and then a mix of Santi’s cum and his own is tumbling from Santi’s lips into Fish’s mouth. 

Once the damage has been done, an image that will forever be burned into your mind, Santi lets his lips press against Frankie’s. He kisses him deep but slow, savoring the concoction of tastes, until Frankie has to lean back for air. 

And then it’s silent, and still, and a pit of dread makes itself known in your gut in record time. 

“I’ll grab us some towels. Don’t either of you move a muscle.” 

Frankie huffs but stays put. You shake out some of the tensed-up muscles in your legs, grasping for something to say to break the tension. 

Turns out you don’t have to. 

“Bossy little prick,” Frankie mumbles. 

It makes a giggle bubble up out of you, even though it’s not even that funny. You suppose the nervous energy needed out somehow. 

“Don’t know what you see in him,” you agree. 

Frankie hums, tilts his head like he’s contemplating it. 

“I’m kidding. He’s sweet. You’re a lucky guy, so is he.” 

You’re interrupted when Santi reenters, two fluffy towels in hand. You tidy up as best you can, then sigh when you no longer have anything to occupy your hands with. 

“Stay the night?”

And this time, those familiar words are uttered by Frankie. It surprises you. For a moment you think he’s just being nice, appeasing you. But his brown eyes do that same thing that Santi’s do, where they get all wide and watery and it’s impossible to say no. 

So you snuggle under the covers, and it’s a bit awkward at first with an extra set of limbs. Santi takes his coveted position as big spoon, but this time behind Fish. Then Frankie coaxes you closer, a hand at your back to urge you to rest your head on his outstretched arm. 

The three of you talk about how hard you’re all going to sleep, and you close your eyes and listen to two other sets of breaths. You let it lull you to the edge of consciousness. Just before you slip under, Santi’s voice is deep and smooth. 

“Te amo.”

And Frankie’s whisper is just as silky. 

“Te amo.”

—

In the morning, you all wake up slow, and take care of business, and mosey out into the kitchen. It’s natural to watch Frankie make eyes at Santi over his eggs, but you know that Santi’s routine walk to your Uber will be anything but. 

Their apartment door slams heavy behind you two as you head to the normal pick-up spot. 

“So this is probably it, huh?”

You have to force yourself to look at Santi’s face, squinting in the mid-morning sun. 

His brows draw up, and you really hope he doesn’t make this anymore awkward than it needs to be. 

“It doesn’t have to be, no.”

His head shakes back and forth with his declaration, and you almost flinch when he reaches for your hand. 

“Listen. Give us some time, you know? Let us… figure… this out. Once we settle, I wanna see you again. Fish does too.” 

You’re sure your face is doing something funny, because Santi laughs and pushes you. 

“Not gonna get rid of us that easy, cabrón.”

[krizariel]

Stripper jason dating CEO Timmy :X

Big thank you to @galkyrie for indulging my midnight jaytim brainworms, helping me make sense of them and adding more to it. This is basically me putting together our convo, so not much of a fic.

FYI, for those who care about this: This AU ended up being switch because we can't help ourselves hence why I tagged both jaytim and timjay. Generally my AUs are more vague on that regard but on this one there's mention of both dynamics so figured, fair warning on this one.

They met at a small party thrown by Dickie and Kory (dating or married idk, whatever fits your fancy) for Dickie’s birthday. Tim is like a little brother to Dick and by extension, to Kory. Jay is close friends with Roy and Kory.

Somehow Tim and Jay had never crossed paths before; with Tim taking over higher responsibilities at the company because his father is ready to retire and leave it all up to him - he is proud of his son and despite whatever Tim says, Jack knows his son is more than ready - Tim has been busy and barely had time to socialize and well, have a life out of work.

They start talking, they hit it off pretty well. Somehow what they do for a living didn’t come up in their conversation because they were too busy talking about their hobbies, Star Trek, AngBang (Sauron has a ship and Jason couldn’t stop talking about it) and  whether or not smore’s count as dinner.

They exchanged numbers but Tim never got to call him again until one night he saw him performing at the club. It was Tim’s birthday and as a surprise, his friend dragged him to a popular stripclub. Roy worked as a bartender there so he’d slip them free drinks every now and then.

When the show started, the room went crazy. Apparently, Jason was very popular and indeed, he was amazing. At some point Jason actually noticed him and even waved at him while he was spinning on the pole.

Steph: I’m sorry… did Mr. Beefcake actually waved at you!? 

Tim: Looks like it

Steph: YOU KNOW HIM?

Tim: Well, remember that guy I told you about that I kinda liked, mayyyybe had a little crush on?...

Steph: YOUR CRUSH IS A STRIPPER?

Tim: I DIDN’T KNOW THAT PART!

Tim was a bit embarrassed and figured it was probably for the best that he never called him to ask him out, as he saw Jay work and all his audience ogling over him… he didn't know how he felt about dating a stripper. Plus, who knows if he’d even be interested… he must have many people behind him and flirting and looking like a sin incarnate is part of his job.

They met again out of work but Jay didn't even want to talk to him again because he figured Tim was just another uptight asshole who just judged Jay for his job so he didn't call him again and avoided him. Tim felt like a real asshole and figured it didn't harm to be friends... Jay was really cool and Tim enjoyed his time with him. Tim apologized for how he came through at the beginning.

Since then, they became friends, sometimes they would text or meet for coffee. It’s not dating - he tells himself-  and every time he’d make a stop by the stripclub to grab a drink, hang out with Roy and Kory at the bar, ~~maybe catch a glimpse of Jay as he danced, flirted and got flirted back~~ he was always reminded of it.

Sometimes he’d get a lapdance himself. What’s the harm…nothing is gonna happen anyway. But oddly enough they’d mostly talk about their day. Tim would be the kind of guy that would sit on his hands to not touch and Jason found it really cute. He enjoyed teasing the little guy.

Other times, Tim pays for a private room/dance to give Jay an hour break from being on the floor, because he notices he is tired. Jason was surprised at first because he thought Tim was finally pulling moves on him but nope, instead he wants nothing but to give him a break and spend time with him, pulling his laptop to watch Star Trek since Jason hadn’t watched it and was interested. Jason just kept falling and falling for Tim’s little gestures. He knew Tim found him attractive, it was obvious, but he was always the proper guy, never making any advances, just making Jason feel cared… which WAS WORSE! because he was starting to imagine it was Tim instead of those men or women who’d he’d dance for. Jay just wanted Tim to fucking snap and fuck him senseless in that stupid couch from the private room. Meanwhile, Tim was starting to finally stop being in denial and was working out the courage to ask Jay on a date because he knows he caught feelings hard.

The next time Tim paid for a private dance, Jay was having none of it. He was going to put on a show and was determined to make Tim snap. 

Jason, rolling his hips so his abs are almost brushing Tim's face: who'd think a CEO would be so timid … (Art here )

All the while Tim’s hands are hovering over his skin and not yet touching. Jason's kind of expecting him to get aggressive, or super eager, once he does touch him, but Tim's almost reverent when his fingertips brush along his outer thighs. Tim really -really- wanted to ask Jason out first but he is just about to lose it. And he does, eventually, snap and fuck Jason senseless on the couch. While they are cuddling Tim finally tells him he has been meaning to work up the courage to ask him out... Tim just tells him he wants to date him for real, he deserves to be dined and wined and maybe they are doing all this out of order… and Jason doesn't know how to respond because how is this man so damn cute and yet so savage. Jason asks him if he is sure… he doesn’t want this to be a on-time thing but he’d understand. Most of his previous lovers have ended quickly because they tried to pull the “savior” card, couldn’t get past what he does for a living and he doesn’t have plans to change this for anyone. But Tim is sure, he thought about what this means and he really wants to try if Jay will have him. Tim brings Jason flowers when he picks him up for the date and opens his car door for him. Just total romantic shit that Jason should be too jaded to fall for, but...it's Tim.

So it works on him, because he's already gone on Tim.

By the fourth course Jason's already daydreaming about peeling Tim out of his fancy suit and having his way with him on whatever stupid fancy couch he has at his penthouse. When they get back to Tim's place and Jason eases himself onto the couch and pats his lap like: I think it's your turn to be the one in my lap Tim: hope I don't need to dance because let me tell you already, I suck. But Jay walks him through it, gives him directions and suddenly Tim is taking orders. He finds he likes giving away control if its Jay.

For a while they were dating secretly but it was just because Tim didn't want the inevitable attention on their relationship and wanted to have privacy for them to develop their relationship first. He respected Jay’s job, he did it because he liked it and he was certainly amazing at it - but then Tim realized Jay might not be ok with Tim always introducing him as a friend even among their close friends because he thinks Tim is ashamed so he took Jay as his date to a Wayne gala. And of course people around Tim take it as a license to badmouth Jay and mock Tim by insinuating they had seen all there is to Jay (since some of them apparently went to the strip club Jay worked at). Jay was actually very charmed with Tim because unlike other boyfriends he’s had, Tim didn’t try to make him quit his job. Truly it took a lot from Tim at the beginning to get used to Jay dancing and everyone ogling over him… sometimes some men or women would recognize him while they were on a date and talk so amicably with him essentially ignoring Tim’s presence…but Tim focused on the fact that only Tim got to see how Jay sang while he cooked; how he genuinely laughed like a dork; how he screamed Tim’s name when he reached climax, how he slept like a starfish, etc, and slowly found he loved that more than any jealousy or insecurity he could feel.

and if you missed it, timjay art here

[sweetestberryofthebunch]

Roaring 20s - Agatha x Jen

Jenagatha on the mind and I FINALLY GAVE IN. Just some free-form headcanons of my take on them. They’re such an interesting dynamic!

@azaleasallalong @ragnarockz @revleftshark I typed it out for you and just for you tbh, hope y’all enjoy the brainworms!

Jen will always remember the place where she met Agatha Harkness. It was the early 1920s, New York was bustling with art and dance and jazz, and in a hidden corner tucked away in the darkest alleys of the Island, there was The Cauldron. Formed by Jennifer‘s own coven, the secret speakeasy was one of the few true safe havens for witches of the time. And, thanks to Jennifer‘s talent and quickly growing reputation, doubled as one of the finest potion shops in the country.

It was no surprise that they caught the attention of witches from all over. Including one Agatha Harkness, whose infamy exceeded herself. Jen was less than pleased the first time the woman walked into the bar, the fringe of her dress swaying with her hips, sitting down right in front of Jen at the bar, even though the bar was empty.

“What can I get you, Witch Killer?” Jen’s smile is sweet and accommodating, but her tongue is sharp, “I’m sorry in advance, we don’t offer the souls of the innocent here.”

“I guess I’ll settle for the souls of the guilty then” Agatha smiles back just as sweet, “But I’ll start with a martini.”

There are no other customers, and Agatha certainly likes to talk. As she sips her drink, she wants to know what Jen does and when Jen tells her, Agatha’s finger slowly skims the edge of her glass. “If your potions are anywhere close to your martinis you have a bright future ahead of you.”

The comment makes Jen smile and quickly turn away, however, when she glances back over her shoulder, Agatha is watching her with a smirk. She is leaning forward on the counter, her dress slipping down off one shoulder. She is all skin and smugness and Jen is getting flustered for maybe the first time in her life.

There is a purple ostrich feather in Agatha’s hair that slipped slightly to one side. Before she can help herself, Jen reaches out to fix it. The hair beneath her fingers is soft. Agatha’s eyes begin to twinkle.

Jen clears her throat. “It was hanging down. Looked stupid.”

That makes Agatha laugh. “You have such a way with words.”

When her drink is empty, Agatha gets up to leave. Jen watches her throw her coat over her shoulders, swallowing hard. “You have to pay for that, Harkness!”

“It’s on the house”, Agatha calls back, heels clicking on the ground. She pushes the door open, “Just ask the bartender!”

But this is Jennifer Kale she’s talking to, there is no way she's getting away with that. When Agatha steps out into the dark back alley, Jen is right behind her.

“Pardon my French but I think the fuck not!”

To Agatha‘s surprise, Jen pushes her back, long fingers wrapped around her throat, nails filed to be sharp and pointy. “You think you can just waltz in and take things from me because you have a pretty face?”

Oh, Agatha likes this. She arches her back against the brick wall, chest pushed forward against Jennifer. She can feel the layers of pearls adorning Jens body dig into herself. “What I’m hearing is you think I’m pretty.”

Pink energy is flickering in the air, reflecting in Agatha’s bright blue eyes. Jennifer pushes Agatha harder against the wall, forearm pressing against her collarbone. “What I’m saying is, if you take from me, you better pay up.”

Agatha just grins, leaning into Jen’s grip. Jennifer feels Agatha‘s heart beat against her chest just as fast as hers. Her lips surge forward before she knows it. The kiss is messy, needy, and certainly lacks all the decorum Jennifer usually prefers so much.

Clashing teeth, smudged lipstick, Agatha’s fingers hooking underneath the pearl necklace around Jen‘s neck, tugging her closer. When Jen‘s knee slots between the shorter woman’s thigh, Agatha grinds against it with no hesitation.

She goes home with Jen that night, and almost every night after that for several weeks. The sex is good, Agatha is a generous giver, and something about the excitement of it all really does it for Jen. She‘s had her fair share of suitors, more proposals than she can count on her hands, but the rush she feels of having the infamous Witch Killer crawl back to her night after night; it fuels her. Though, when they talk about it, Jen will tell Agatha that she just enjoys the way the older witch shuts up whenever Jen gets a little mean in bed.

For most of that winter, Agatha practically lives at The Cauldron. She watches Jennifer work her magic in the back, freely helps herself to samples and potions, even helps find suppliers for rare ingredients once or twice.

The rest of the Cauldrons Coven is less than pleased, Agatha’s presence distracts their best potions maker, and Agatha also has a habit of ordering „on the house.”

Everyone perceives her as somewhat of a pain in the ass, but for some reason the others don’t understand, Jen seems to like that. Or at least enjoys butting heads with her.

Evenings are spent at the front of the bar. They dress up for the live music and sit in their favourite corner, sharing a plate of olives as they whisper their opinions on other guests, on the acts and the singers to each other, barely trying to conceal their judgement at all.

Eventually, Agatha’s hand always finds Jennifer's thigh, and that's how the Potions Witch knows it's time to go soon.

There is one time where Agatha convinces her to stay and just hide in the supplies closet. They end up getting caught and get into major trouble. However, Agatha just laughs it off and returns the next day like nothing happened.

There is also the incident with the Love Potion. Agatha had found the pink liquid with its sweet scent on a shelf, and held it up to Jen.

„What’s that? It’s not on the menu.“

“It‘s a Love Potion, or at least that's what I want it to be. Nothing strong, the effects wear off after a few hours. But they say if you loved a person once, you will never be able to look at them the same again.“

“Well, in that case…“ Agatha leans over the countertop, holding eye contact as she dribbles the entire potion into Jen‘s half empty martini. Big, brown eyes stare at her in disbelief, and Agatha has to grin. „Let’s put that theory to the test, shall we?“ Jen may have rolled her eyes, but she did drink the entire drink in one swig.

They have the best sex of Jen‘s life thus far that night. And, for a short moment, Agatha wonders if maybe, just maybe the potion worked both ways. But that would be stupid.

It ends how all stories of Agatha Harkness end. With a crime scene, an empty bed, and a dead coven. The witch herself nowhere to be found. Jennifer doesn’t want to think about why she was spared. It hurts too much.

She never hears from Agatha again after that. She doesn’t seek her out either.

Two years later, Jen gets bound.

[dumyhead]

HEY YOU !!!

YES, YOU!!

*grabs you aggressively like a stress ball*

DO YOU WANNA SPEND ALL OCTOBER MAKING MK RELATED STUFF ?????????

then come look at this thing i made :))

YEAHHHHH BABYYY MK PROMPT LIST !! i did a dhmis one last year, but my brainworms have moved onto something else. specifically mortal kombat. SO NOW YOURS CAN TOO FOR THE LOW PRICE OF NOTHING !!?

₍⁠₍⁠ ⁠◝⁠(⁠　ﾟ⁠∀⁠ ﾟ⁠ ⁠)⁠◟⁠ ⁠⁾⁠⁾

come join this thing maybe !!!!!!!! and take inspo !!! any kind of media is acceptable. writing, drawing, painting, interpretive dancing, just pull it outta ur brain and slap the tag on there! and you dont have to do EVERY prompt, just the stuff you find interesting. unless you wanna do every prompt. then go ahead dudebroski you do that challenge HAVE FUN !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[lorna-d-m]

Chapter One: Puck Bunny

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!oc (Eleanor Roy)

Summary: Eleanor Roy is the coach's daughter and totally off limits to Miguel O'Hara. As a defensive player, he's known for being gruff and harsh. But when he wants to change his image, there's only one person he can think of to help him.

Word Count: 3,873

W: language, drinking, mentions of a creep but nothing too bad

Ao3 link here

A/N: Anything that is italicized within the quotation marks is said in Spanish.

The Hockey brainworms got to me, so here we are. He's just the perfect beefy player and I want to bite him. Enjoy muah 😘

“Whiskers or no?”

Eleanor stood in front of the cluttered bathroom counter with an eyeliner pencil in hand. Chocolate curls framed her face, and she pulled the sides back with a few bobby pins. She was close to finishing her look, or as close as she would get with a last-minute costume.

“No!” Gwen chimed in from the other room, “you want your gorgeous face to shine!”

Jess, perfecting her eyelashes beside her, spoke without looking over. “True, and you have the bunny ears and the tail, so whiskers would be overkill.”

“You want to find a boyfriend tonight, not scare him off. What if he doesn’t want to kiss you and get whiskers on his face?” Gwen stepped into the crowded bathroom to finish her hair.

Eleanor sighed, putting the pencil away and reaching for the fluffy bunny ears. “I think I’m ready.”

"For a boyfriend?” Jess teased, her eyebrows wiggling.

Gwen giggled. “For a hookup?”

“...to call the Uber,” Eleanor deadpanned.

At 24, Eleanor never had a boyfriend, had never been in a situationship, and had never been kissed. It was easy to blame her younger years on the all-girls school she attended, limiting her contact with any boys. Then, in college, she was too focused on her studies and her art to try dating. And now, two years later, she had yet to step out of her shell, as everyone told her. It would happen when she least expected it.

She did not, however, think tonight was the night she would make out with a random guy or find “the one”. Especially not when she was dressed like a knockoff Playboy bunny. Eleanor hoped to God her father would be asleep when she came home so he wouldn’t see her Halloween costume.

Miguel didn’t know what he was doing out with the team. Maybe he was sick of sitting at home alone or maybe it was the high from their recent win, but he said yes when his fellow defenseman asked him. The pulsing music and flashing lights reminded him of the skate out before a game, but he didn’t feel the same excitement or adrenaline.

Miguel was grateful some of the boys had enough of a connection to get a spot in the VIP section where the music was muffled and the lights less severe. He took a beer, not wanting to get too drunk too soon, and hung out at the table. His single teammates, in matching neon costumes, quickly dispersed, looking for someone to dance and share a drink with.

He didn’t get the memo, or the group text since he silenced them, to dress like the 80s threw up on them. Instead, he wore one of his own jerseys and claimed to be a hockey player, as if it was just a costume and not his career.

Miguel planned to stay for a while, having enough conversations for them to remember he was there, before making a swift exit. Ben slid into the seat across from him, and they gave each other the acknowledging head tip-up before taking sips of beer.

“Not gonna go out and bust a move?” Ben shrugged, gesturing to the dance floor.

“And do what? Bust my ass?” No thanks.

Ben laughed, his head tipped back, “Nah man, and get a piece of ass.”

Miguel rolled his eyes. Sure, in his rookie season or so he was out there, buying drinks and asking women to dance. He lived the wild and sex-crazed years, too much money, fame, and independence at a young age. But Miguel mellowed out; now the only pussy he wanted at the end of the night was his cat, Marilyn. She was a diva and far too spoiled, and the only one he let cuddle him at night. He thought about the pink fuzzy blanket she needed, meowing at him until he found it and gave it to her.

“Speaking of ass,” Ben did not take Miguel’s silence as a hint, “did you see Coach Roy’s daughter over there by the bar?”

Miguel scoffed. First, he doubted she would even go to the club, second, there was no way she was showing off her ass, and third, Ben had to be stupid to be making comments about the coach’s daughter. Everyone knew she was gorgeous, and while it was not against any official rules, no one wanted to piss their coach off. “No way, dude. You’re checking I’m paying attention.”

“Serious as a hat trick. See for yourself.”

Miguel turned, and he instantly regretted it. He could never go back to before this moment in time before he saw Eleanor Roy in a skintight low cut black dress rather than a frumpy sweater or baggy jersey. Miguel could never unsee her with her hair carefully styled rather than haphazardly pulled back, or with her bold red lipstick. Miguel could never unthink the dirty, raunchy thoughts he had about her bouncing like the bunny she dressed as.

“Holy fuck,” Miguel could barely string two words together. His eyes stayed trained on her as she carried three fruity drinks through the crowd. Who was she with? It couldn’t be anyone from the team, he would know if she was. He watched her wiggle her cottontail through the crowd and stop at a high-top table with two other women. One dressed in 70s retro and the other 2010s punk. An odd group, but they seemed happy as they cheers’d before taking a sip of their drinks.

“Hey, hey,” Ben snapped in front of Miguel’s face. He grimaced, debating throwing his beer in Ben’s face in retaliation, but that would be a waste of overly expensive beer.

Miguel practically growled, using his best defense voice, “Fuck off.”

“Happily,” Ben flourished, “You’ve made for stunning conversation tonight, and I’d love to go off and fuck.”

Miguel didn’t bother saying goodbye. His eyes stayed on her, on Eleanor Roy, of all fucking people. She seemed to be having a fun night out with her friends, even doing a few rounds of shots, while Miguel nursed his beer. His teammates tried to pull him away, but he stayed put.

Some guy, who didn’t even bother wearing a costume, tried chatting her up. Miguel could see the little pinch in her brows and her polite but uninterested smile as she turned him down. The guy walked back to his friends, downed his beer, and ordered another. Good, Miguel thought, he wasn’t good enough for her anyway.

Jess was the first to leave, citing her work the following morning as a reason to call a cab. She was an assistant at a law firm while she studied for the bar, and Eleanor knew she would kick ass once she passed. Gwen stayed a bit longer, dancing with some guy named Mike or Miles a few times, before calling it a night.

Eleanor waited by the club door for her Uber. It would be ridiculously expensive, but it was also her best bet to get home. Every time the door slammed open and shut, people on smoke breaks strumbled by, it felt like an Arctic breeze. She regretted leaving her coat at home, and she wrapped her arms tight around her.

“Need someone to warm you up?”

Eleanor rolled her eyes, sick of hearing that voice tonight. Apparently, politely rejecting him at the table, near the bar, and outside the restroom was not enough to get the message. She hoped her ride would arrive soon and she could say bye, not goodbye, for the last time.

“No thank you,” although there was not much grace or civility in her voice, “I’m fine.”

She could smell the liquor on his breath already. “I know you’re fine, baby,” he stepped closer and she stepped back, “why do you think I’ve been trying to take you home with me so bad?” Eleanor’s back was to the door, and she reached for the handle. She’d rather brave the frigid air than Chad or Tad or whatever his name was. “Don’t run away from me…”

Her heart raced, her fight or flight kicking in. The liquor dampened her senses, but she recognized a flit of danger. Eleanor’s palms sweat and her knees shook as she reached for the door handle.

“She said she’s fine.”

Eleanor looked up, trying to place the familiar rumbling voice. She squinted in the dark light. A tall broad man, so big he blocked out almost all the light, shouldered forward.

“O’Hara?” She questioned. She saw him at practices and games, she always sat near the bench, and she was sure they were introduced at some point or another.

“You can call me anything you want,” Chad or Tad or whatever his name was reached for her bunny tail, but O’Hara was faster. He grabbed the man’s wrist and pulled him away from her.

“Try it again and see what happens,” Miguel hissed in his ear. He shoved him away, not caring that he stumbled and cursed. Miguel’s attention and his piercing brown eyes never wavered from hers. “Are you alright?”

Eleanor stuttered, her face flushed and not just from the alcohol. “I’m fine, thank you.” She brushed away a piece of hair and tightened her grip on her purse. “My ride should be here soon, so…”

He rolled his eyes. “So you’re not waiting any longer with that creep lurking nearby.” Miguel gestured to the door with his chin. “Let’s go.”

“Go? Go where?” Eleanor’s brows pinched between her eyes, not quite processing what was happening. He moved too fast for her sluggish state.

He chuckled, a low rumbling sound from his chest, but she didn’t feel he was laughing at her. “You did have fun tonight, didn’t you?” She nodded sheepishly, her bunny ears flopping. “I’m taking you home. You’re not waiting for an Uber.”

Eleanor shook her head and bit her bottom lip. “You don’t have to do that.” She lived out on Long Island with her parents. It would be an hour for them to get there, and then another hour for Miguel to get back in the city. She didn’t want to ruin his night like that, not when he was out with the team.

“You’re right, I don’t have to.” She breathed a sigh of relief, too soon. “But I want to know you got home safe.” Miguel shrugged off his black peacoat and draped it over her shoulders. “Just like I don’t have to give you my coat, but I don’t want to see you shiver on the way to the car either.”

Eleanor relented, realizing there were worse ways to go home, and if insisted on driving her, there was no sense in refusing. Not when Chad or Tad could still come back and bother her. She was glad for Miguel’s coat, covering some of her immodest costume.

Cameras flashed and photographers shouted at them as soon as they left the club. Miguel pulled her close with one arm and blocked the cameras from her face with the other.

“Miguel, who are you with?”

“O’Hara, did you find yourself a puck bunny?”

“Miguel, what’s her name?”

He moved them quickly past the barrage of press and into the side parking lot. They trailed after them, shouting his name, but he never gave them any attention. He opened the door to a luxury black SUV and covered her until she got in. It smelled like his cologne, deep and woodsy, and she assumed it came from his jacket and their close proximity.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said as he cranked the heat, “they must’ve heard the team was here and looking for a cheap story.”

“It’s okay,” Eleanor said, picking at her nails. She felt stupid with her bunny ears hitting the top of the car, so she ripped them off, undoing some of her hair. Hot tears pricked in her eyes, but she realized he turned on the seat warmer for her, and it made her blink them away.

He fiddled with his phone, but he looked into her eyes through the rearview mirror. “Are you alright? Not too shaken from everything? Warm enough?” Miguel sounded more concerned than she thought he would be. Eleanor wanted to reassure him.

“I’m okay, I promise. A little shaken, a little cold, and hungry, but I’m alright.”

He nodded, his confidence back, and he handed her his phone open on the maps app. “Put in your address so we can get out of here.”

She typed it in while he pulled out of the parking lot. The photographers left them alone once they got in the car, retreating to the door hoping to catch another player.

“Do you live with your parents?” he asked, glancing at the address.

“Yeah,” the moving lights made Eleanor dizzy, so she closed her eyes and leaned back. “It makes drunk ordering food a little embarassing, but I can’t help it.”

He laughed again, and she thought it sounded warm and rich. Eleanor couldn’t help but crack an eye open at him to see his smile. Crooked, and a little toothy, but genuine. “Gotta get those cravings somehow.”

She spent a long time thinking about her cravings, trying to decide what she wanted most. “I think I want ice cream, no wait, a milkshake. And fries, nice salty fries.”

He hummed appreciatively. “What kind of ice cream?”

“Milkshake,” she insisted, “I want a vanilla milkshake, not ice cream. There’s a difference.”

He apologized, “Right, right. Do you dip the fries in the milkshake?”

“Duh, of course. You have to balance the salty with the sweet.”

They fell quiet for a little bit. He put on soft music, and she couldn’t recognize the lyrics. She thought she heard him humming to the music, but when she peeked open her eyes, he fell quiet. Eleanor liked listening to his soft voice, so she kept her eyes closed.

She didn’t realize she fell asleep until he gently nudged her awake. Eleanor blinked slowly, adjusting to being in the car again, and squinted when she looked at Miguel. He held out a fast food bag and cup, waiting expectantly for her.

“Did you get this just for me?” She was an emotional drunk, and tears brimmed in her eyes.

“It was on the way,” he shrugged, “and I wanted a coffee.”

Eleanor blinked rapidly, trying not to make a big deal of it. She ate carefully, not wanting to make a mess in his nice car, but she needed to dip her fries in the milkshake. She offered one to Miguel, vanilla dripping, and she fed it to him. He nodded in approval.

Miguel took steady sips of his coffee, and he reached out every so often for another fry. She happily gave them to him, pleased he enjoyed it. Eleanor typically didn’t like sharing, but she didn’t mind sharing with him.

They neared her parents’ house, the ETA only five minutes away, and she felt pretty sobered up. Tired, but not drunk anymore. Her parents should be asleep, and she had both the key code and a physical key. Hopefully, Edward wasn’t prowling the kitchen for a midnight snack… as long as she made it upstairs without making any noise, they would never know.

Miguel cleared his throat and glanced over at her. “Put my number in your phone. If you ever need a ride, I can be your Uber.”

She giggled, reaching for his phone to add her contact, too. “Five-star review, for sure. Singing and snacks.” Eleanor debated, wondering if she should put her own name or some sort of nickname for herself. She settled on “Eleanor 🐰”

He dimmed the headlights and parked by the gate. Eleanor reached for the door handle, but before she could do anything Miguel was around the car and opening the door for her.

“Thanks for uh, everything,” she said, shrugging out of his jacket and handing it to him. “I really appreciate it. Seriously.”

She swore she thought his face flushed in the dark night. His hands were warm as he brushed against hers for the jacket. “You’re welcome. And I’m serious, you know? If you need a ride, if you need help, just call.”

Eleanor tilted her head up, not normally having to do so since she was tall herself, but Miguel was taller still. She wanted to look in his deep brown eyes, the same ones that froze her on the spot earlier that night.

“You know, you’re not as mean as everyone says you are.”

Miguel smiled, sheepishly and nervously. “You must still be drunk. Goodnight, and I hope you don’t feel horrible in the morning.”

With that, she punched in the gate code and started walking. It was freezing out, and without Miguel’s jacket, it felt much colder. Eleanor wanted a nice, warm shower and to crawl into bed.

Miguel did his best to push all thoughts of Eleanor from his head as he threw on his headphones and hopped on the treadmill. She was an adorable drunk, and a cute little bunny, but completely off-limits. No one messed with the Coach’s daughter unless they wanted to get their ass and a transfer notice handed to them. He blamed his dry spell for his thoughts and feelings.

His music paused, and the automated voice told Miguel he had an incoming call from his agent. He cursed, paused his run, and hopped off the treadmill. “Yeah?” he panted, still catching his breath.

This snippy and sassy voice of Lyla, his agent, greeted him. “Fun night last night? Couple beers with the team?”

He didn’t feel like playing any games. “Yeah, why? You gonna tell me or are you gonna drag it out?” He wiped the sweat off his face with his baggy gray t-shirt.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I wonder why…” Miguel cursed under his breath, and Lyla had the audacity to laugh at him. “There’s pictures of you with a girl last night, dressed as a bunny, so naturally, the pundits and the press have started calling her your-”

“-puck bunny.” Miguel cursed again. A girl more interested in the players than the game, and usually looking to hook up. Eleanor Roy fit no part of the definition, yet due to her costume and her proximity to him, it became an easy hit piece. His stomach clenched with guilt.

Lyla carried on as if Miguel wasn’t calculating exactly how much shit he was in. “I thought you should know before you showed up to practice today. Realistically, it should blow over in a few days, as soon as someone else gets caught doing something more stupid…”

Miguel growled, his hands scrubbing his face. “Do they know who she is yet?”

“Not yet,” Lyla ignored his attitude, “so far they only have the tabloid pics where you do a pretty good job covering her face, but give it some time for people’s own pictures and videos and detective skills to go to work, and they’ll have a name for her.” She paused, “Why? Should I know the name? Is it going to cause more trouble for us?”

Miguel chewed his bottom lip. Lyla would find out eventually. “Eleanor Roy,” he admitted.

He could practically see the gears of her brain turning. “King? Hmm let me think… wait King, like your Coach Roy?”

“One and the same.”

“Oh Miguel! I thought we moved past all this puck bunny business and stupid hookups years ago. I thought you learned after getting burned by Xina and Dana…”

“It’s not like that-”

“-of course, she’s different, she’s special, honestly, Miguel, could you be any stupider?”

“We didn’t do anything!” he protested, resisting the urge to throw his phone. “Some creep kept hitting on her while she waited for her Uber, so I gave her a ride. That’s it, end of story. In fact, there’s no story, only the truth.”

“Oh. That’s a lot less exciting, though I suppose that’s good for you. I can work with that. It’ll spin you as a hero instead of a hound. I’ll tell your story to the journalists that tend to work with us and let people decide the rest.”

Miguel ended the call, and he saw a text he should’ve expected.

Coach Roy: My office before practice.

Fuck. Miguel might as well finish his run and get a move on with his morning. He sent a reluctant “understood” so Coach knew he saw, and hopped back on the treadmill. He’d tell him the truth, and he’d be fine. Why wouldn’t he? Roy was a reasonable man, well reasonable enough when he and the team weren’t fucking up, and he didn’t do anything.

***

Miguel made sure to arrive early, giving him enough time to talk to Coach before he needed to change. He slung his bag over his shoulder and entered the Nueva York Arañas training facility, careful not to step on the spider logo by the front entrance. Jerseys of players past decorated the hallways, as did still shots from memorable games, although the team hadn’t held the Stanley Cup since 1999. Miguel remembered watching as a very little kid, practically glued to the TV when it happened, and making it his mission to play for them.

Now, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to stay with the Arañas. They were booted in the opening rounds of the playoffs for the last three years, and as much as Miguel wanted to be the player to bring them back to greatness, he knew they didn’t listen to him and his hot temper either.

He knocked twice on the wooden door, a courtesy, before entering. Coach motioned for him to take a seat, but Miguel preferred to stay standing. It would hopefully keep the conversation short.

“I saw the headlines, and I talked to Eleanor…” he paused, leaning back in his plush leather seat, “and I wanted to say thank you.”

Of all the things Miguel thought Richard Roy would say, that was not on his list. He blinked twice, needing a moment to process what he said. He stumbled looking for the right words.

“It wasn’t a problem, sir. Just thought she deserved to be safe.”

“Believe me, she and I have had our own conversion about her outfit, safety, and the power of headlines, but I appreciate you taking the time to make sure she got hom safe. If any of them out there,” he pointed generally to the locker room, “gives you shit for this, send ‘em to me and I’ll put them right.”

He nodded once, not even considering what the other players might think or say. It would be easy chirping material. “Thank you, sir. Just glad she’s alright.”

Coach Roy chuckled, “Embarassed like hell, but alright.”

Miguel smiled, imagining Eleanor with flushed cheeks and avoiding his eyes. He might tip her chin up with his fingers, forcing her to look at him and smile.

Fuck. These were not the thoughts to be having in her father’s office, his coach’s office. He needed to get out and warm up, fast. Being on the ice always cleared his head.

[urarart]

Teenage teasing

Ok so- I got lost in the brainworms (hah) and just had to write this. 2k words in an hour and a half is a new record for me, though, and this fic was a pure delight to write.

For any tags and warnings:

Characters: Tav (Eira, she/her, set personality, check my blog for further information and whatnot), Halsin, all six Origin companions, and the tadpoles

Warnings: Absolutele shameless thirsting, and equally shameless teasing. Also probably second hand embarrassment

Relationships: Everybody being friends with each other, and one-sided attraction towards Halsin from Tav

Timeline: A few days after the party, but the setting is still in Act I

It's an uneventful night at camp.

Everyone exhausted of the day before, all camp members were doing their leisure activities in peace.

Lae'zel tending to her weapons, Astarion reading his book, Shadowheart in her own corner a while away, Wyll and Karlach practicing some dance at Karlach's tent, Gale organizing his own items including the food, Eira reading a book they picked up on their travels, and Halsin whittling wood.

It was supposed to be an uneventful night at camp.

// This is so unfair \\

At the sudden sound, Astarion pauses his reading, his ears unconsciously perking up.

He looks up.

Everybody is still focused on their own activities.

// Who told him he can be so cute? \\

He can't locate the source of the noise.

Gale also stops, his hands freezing in mid-air, and turns towards the center of camp.

Astarion raises an eyebrow, a silent question, and Gale shrugs and shakes his head in response.

// How was I supposed to know he'd be this adorable in his down time, making wooden DUCKS??? \\

Lae'zel stops polishing her sword, a scowl on her face.

She shoots a glare at Astarion, and he puts on an offended face.

// Ugh and he has such pretty hair... I just want to kiss him silly and mess it all up \\

At that, Karlach slows down, a smirk on her face.

// And maybe sit on his face as well \\

Wyll trips over.

Karlach wordlessly helps him up, trying her hardest to hold back a laugh.

Halsin looks up at that, and asks him if he's alright.

Wyll takes a second to respond.

“Yeah I'm.. I'm fine. Don't- Don't worry about me.”

He shakes off the grass on his face.

“I think I heard Shadowheart call me.”

And he leaves the scene at that.

Astarion shuts his book closed and sits on the ground- whatever is going on now is way more entertaining.

// Aww, but they were dancing so well... \\

Karlach shines at the compliment.

By now, it's obvious who the source of the daydreaming is. The remaining members- Karlach, Astarion, Gale and Lae'zel- all share a look of various degrees.

Only Eira is not in the know.

// I hope I can dance with Halsin like that someday \\

Ah, young love, Gale thinks.

Which is immediately followed up with-

// And a different kind of dance as well \\

A blush creeps up his neck.

These thoughts are supposed to be private, especially when they're of this degree.

...yet he can't turn away.

Astarion wears a mischievous grin, while Karlach is full on smiling, the gums of her teeth showing.

It's obvious how Eira is not looking at the book anymore, completely enraptured by everything Halsin does.

// How someone that huge can be so cute is BEYOND me \\

Lae'zel scoffs, while Karlach coos.

// He can split me open like a walnut and I wouldn't even complain \\

Gale sputters, while Astarion simply chuckles.

Karlach has less success in keeping in her amusement, if she was trying in the first place, by giggling like a maniac.

Eira is none the wiser, no hint of shame on her face, her thoughts wandering off course all the while.

She doesn't know, does she, Astarion thinks.

Gale sends the three a furious glare, his embarrassment reaching new levels, urging them to do something about this.

Astarion thinks it over once, twice.

Sure, he'll extend an olive branch.

// You know, darling, if you want him to bed you so bad, you can just ask him \\

// Well I can't just walk up to him and ask him to nail me down to the ground like the Oak Father intended! That's rude! \\

Gale bangs his head against his bag, tired of it all.

// Tsk'va, coward. \\

Ah, thanks for the helpful contribution Lae'zel, Gale internally thinks. It seems like they're not intending to make Eira stop, and who knows if she realizes the situation.

// I do have to admit, soldier, I never expected you to have such thoughts \\

THANK YOU KARLACH, Gale screams internally.

// What do you mea- \\

At that point, the stream of constant dialogue stops.

He looks up at Eira, who seems to have frozen up in time, her gaze a thousand miles away.

Slowly, her mouth pulls back, her eyes widen, and a small but rapidly growing yellow blush spreads her face, daring to overtake her natural green skin.

// YOU GUYS COULD HEAR ME THE ENTIRE TIME?????? \\

She looks at their faces, their answer obvious.

She covers her face with her hands, shame shrouding her entire body.

// Oh I'm sorry that was- no I'm- UGH I'm sorry- \\

// Dearest, it's fine, it's fine. If anything, this was a nice shake up of our usual routine- and we learned you're not as frigid as we thought \\

She sends him a glare at that, still yellow in the face.

// I don't even have any words for you, of course you'd enjoy my shame like this \\

She mindlessly combs her hands through her hair, making a mess of it instead.

Gale decides it's time to step in, to remedy the situation.

// If I can say anything, Eira, we don't mind you thinking this, it's a healthy outlet \\

He awkwardly coughs.

// But maybe try not to use the tadpole to... declare your intentions like that. \\

// I didn't even do it on purpose! \\

// This lusting of yours was so strong you used the ghaik powers, you mean? \\

// ...well if you say it like THAT \\

Astarion lets out a laugh so loud it startles them.

“Is staring at the ground mindlessly so entertaining, Astarion?”, Halsin asks.

“Hehe- well. You can say something like that, yes.”

// If you say anything to him I will stake you, don't you DARE \\

// But what's the fun in not doing anything~ \\

“So, Halsin-”

Astarion speaks the next words, but no sound is said.

He stops his question, tries saying something else, but nothing comes out.

He turns to the only suspect.

Eira cast a Silence spell on him, the brat.

“Are you alright? You were asking me something?”

Astarion shoots a glare at Eira, which then transforms into a smirk.

// Well, if I can't speak, then body language works \\

// nO DON'T DON'T DON'T DON'T- \\

Astarion ignores her pleading, and stands up to walk over to Halsin.

He, however, fails to notice the leg Karlach sticks out.

He stumbles forwards, ungraciously, and Karlach takes that moment to sweep his leg under him.

He falls to the ground, hard.

“What he means to say, big bear, is that he had a bit too much blood for tonight, so he's out of his mind right now.“

”You mean he's drunk?“

”Yep yep!“

// Thank you Karlaaaaach \\

Karlach winks at Eira in response.

“So, Halsin, ever had any lovers in the past?”

// KARLACH WHY \\

Astarion looks up, still on the ground, repositioning his body to make it look like he wants to lay there, assuming a comfortable position, with one knee in the air and an arm resting on it.

“Hm. That's a sudden question, but yes.”

Halsin sets down his project, the duck almost finished.

Eira covers her face with the book, her curious eyes peeking over the edge.

Gale sighs.

Even though he's among the youngest, in comparison to elves, he sure feels his energy being drained quicker and quicker by this teenage teasing.

“Ohhhh do say more~”

Halsin chuckles, a bit of a frown on his face.

“I'm not sure why you're suddenly curious for this old elf's past relationships.”

“He's uncomfortable, Karlach, leave him be.”

Astarion turns his head towards Eira so fast, it was almost like it snapped.

// Trying to save him from embarrassment, huh? You might as well be declaring your wanting for him right now, darling \\

“Well- oh I can talk, finally- we were simply curious. It's called bonding, you know?”

He narrows his eyes.

“And besides, why do you care, Eira? You never had any, so why does it matter to you?”

She puts her book down, almost slamming it to the ground, her mouth a thin line, her eyes burning with fury.

“It's called common courtesy, Astarion. Not like you'd know what it means.”

“To answer your question, Karlach- yes, I've had previous lovers, but they never held for long.”

“Hmm, a believer in carnal desire, then?”

“I- well, that's crude wording Lae'zel, but yes. You can call it that.“

Astarion nods in understanding, ignoring the way Halsin doesn't speak about it with pride.

He mindlessly picks up his duck again, continuing the project.

”My heart doesn't stir lightly, so I never had the bliss of calling someone my lover.“

”But you DID have sex, right?“

”Of course.“

Astarion chuckles.

”So, when does your heart shake, or whatever that wording was. What does it take to move the beast?“

Halsin raises an eyebrow in response.

“Why are you so curious?”

“No reason~”, Karlach grins.

Halsin hums, thinking for a second.

“Thinking back, there is no pattern in any of them. Nothing with race, gender, body, or conviction. There were a few that I refused, but the ones I wanted were all good by soul, nothing else.”

“Ah those blessed souls, to have the grace of your company for a single night without putting in the work.“

”Fangs you know you're not any better.“

He only shrugs in response, and then turns to lay on his back, his arms splayed by his head, his shirt falling open just a bit.

He turns towards Eira.

”Any questions you have, my friend? Surely you must be buzzing with them, you never know when to shut up without concerning the others' privacy.”

She only frowns in response.

“If... If I can ask, and do say if it's rude or anything like it.”

“I don't mind, I will answer to the best of my ability.”

“...these... experiences you have. Were they all with humanoids?”

It takes a few seconds before the question is understood, Gale getting the hidden message before any of them.

”What kind of question is that, Eira?!“

”I'm just curious!“

// pfffttTTHAHAHAHA- \\

“Tsk'va, sorcerer, that you'd ask.“

”Oh come on Lae'zel!! I regret asking already. And stop laughing, Astarion!”

She crosses her arms, an annoyed pout on her face.

“...there was this one instance.”

All heads turn to Halsin immediately.

“One day, I was grazing through the forest while my wildshape was a bear-”

“Ugh, seriously? You fucked a bear while you were a bear? That's dirty, even for me, and I've seen some stuff.“ Astarion waves his hand, bored.

”-if you can let me finish my story. But while I was in the forest, I forgot it was the mating season, and a female bear tried to claim me. However, she didn't appreciate my refusal, especially when I turned back into my Elfish form, and that is,“ he holds a hand to his face, touching his scar, ”how I got these marks.”

Karlach and Gale stare at him, stunned. Eira covers her mouth with her loose hair out of shame, and Lae'zel looks mildly interested in the story.

Astarion, well.

“Boooooo, you couldn't go through with it. Cowarddddd.“

”I would never disrupt the cycle of nature like that- and to answer your question, Eira: yes, only with humanoids.“

It's awfully silent on her part.

While Karlach and Astarion continue to talk and joke with Halsin, she remains quiet.

So quiet even Lae'zel gets confused about it.

”Sorcerer, did Gale cast a Silence spell on you? Why are you-“

// HE DIDN'T GET THOSE SCARS FROM FIGHTS AND I NEED TO GIVE HIM NEW ONES \\

The force of the connection stuns Lae'zel halfway, and a little chuckle escapes her.

Eira looks at her, wide blue eyes staring in shock.

Lae'zel only nods in response, her approval granted.

Gale has decided to completely separate himself from the conversation at that point.

They hear a yell from Shadowheart a distance away.

“What was that I heard?”

Halsin looks in her direction, confused.

”Nothing happened, what's wrong?“

”Something about scafjskflj!”

She gets shushed by Wyll before she can finish her sentence.

She slaps his hand away, but he hurriedly talks over her.

“Nothing, we just thought an animal was walking nearby and got spooked!”

He talks in a lower, quiet voice to Shadowheart, too soft for the rest of camp to hear.

“Ah, that's good to hear. Nature lives on as it should.”

“Ugh you bo~ore me with all that nature talk every time. That gossip just now was way more entertaining.”

“Right, of course. Although I'm sure you have more interesting stories in comparison to mine.”

He holds up his wooden duck, looking for faults or anything he can improve.

He's quickly satisfied, however, signified by a small smile.

“Well, this is done.”

“It looks good, very neat and super cute!”

“Yes, yes, that's a nice wooden duck, whatever.”

Astarion turns to Eira at that, his grin so wide his fang pokes through.

“Darling, you like it as well, right? His duck.“

She takes a deep breath in, both frustration and shyness evident in her face.

The insinuation of Astarion's comment was not lost on her.

”Yes.“

Short and sweet.

Seems like I got to her~, Astarion notes.

We're not short on entertainment in this camp for sure.

He grins, sharing a look with Karlach.

She smiles in response, a twinkle in her eyes.

Oh this will be a very interesting time at camp.

[jamiesfootball]

Please please please say more about send help

send help: man who believes in rom-communism just found out he's aromantic

A while ago I sent this brainworm about an aromantic Ted story idea to @altschmerzes (because who better to share aromantic headcanons with?) except now the brainworm has eaten into my brain and what has happened is-

Mom City Alternate Ending

Roy and Keeley show up literally seconds earlier than they did in canon and end up witnessing through the treatment room window the moment Jamie sends the text to his dad. And since there is a difference between 'I will pretend things are fine' and 'I will lie to the people in front of me', Jamie fails to shrug them off and admits to him what Ted told him on the field.

Roy and Keeley? Not happy. United front in the Taking Care Of Jamie Tartt Brigade. They take him home. Talk him through it.

Then they talk about other stuff, the three of them.

Then they end up in a qpr.

Jamie, come the following week, is practically floating on air. Ted sees this and, naturally, thinks that maybe Jamie took his advice and things worked out for the better. Even makes a remark about it to the other coaches, in that off-hand Ted way of his.

Ted doesn't know what's up with Roy, who seems incapable of standing in a room with him without emitting a low-level growling, but Ted does have other stuff on his mind. He's leaving Richmond. He's saying goodbye to a lot of people, people who mean the world to him. He can hardly look at Rebecca, Trent can't stop looking at him, and Beard and him have been playing a game where whenever one of them looks over, the other looks away.

Anyways, it's very possible that this is just a Roy Kent-ish way of Roy dealing with whatever thoughts Roy has on Ted leaving.

So Roy corners Jamie at home and tells him, 'you got to talk to Ted before he leaves. Tell him he was wrong. Or instead of telling him goodbye, I'm gonna punch a hole in his face.'

Except Jamie can tell, with that Jamie laser-focused perception that's really good at football and also really good at Roy Kents, that Roy isn't just saying it because he's angry. Behind the guard-dog face is something sincere, some hurt bit that doesn't like being mad at his friend because Ted is Roy's friend, so Jamie says, "Keep your shirt on, grandad. I'll talk to him."

Unfortunately, that's the last time Jamie doesn't fail a perception check.

So he goes to talk to Ted, and under the weight of the task of telling Ted he was wrong, Jamie flounders. Because somehow in telling Ted that he was wrong, Jamie realizes he's actually going to have to say what kind of a piece of shit his dad is. Not imply it, not rely on them knowing him well enough to fill in the blanks - Ted hasn't caught any of that.

Jamie, looking for any way into the conversation that doesn't make him want to tear his skin off, ends up blurting that him, Roy and Keeley are now in a relationship together. Kind of.

No, not like Ted's thinking. But yes, he does mean together.

It's complicated.

See, there's a lot of things about being in relationships over the years that always confused him. Sometimes it was gestures, sometimes it was the way people would talk to him or talk about him or touch him, and it always left him feeling... wrong. Like there was a bit of the conversation he just wasn't keeping up with.

There's been a lot of things that he's done, things he did to keep those relationships, that he....really doesn't want to do anymore. Nothing bad, but it's like there's this person yeah? And they want to dance, and Jamie knows theoretically how to dance, but he doesn't like this dance. In fact he'd prefer if there was no dance. Sometimes the people he's dating, they want to be close to him like that, but then when he doesn't, they feel like he's pulling away. So he puts up with it because he wants to please them, but then the weight of it gets to him, and then it builds and builds until everything feels wrong, and then he doesn't want to be close to them at all, and then he feels like the world's biggest bastard, because who feels that way about someone they care about? And about- stupid things! Minor things, that don't seem like they should be important at all! Except everyone else seems to think its the most important part of a relationship, like everything else Jamie did couldn't make up for him lacking this one thing.

Lust Conquers All was a lie; turned out even that show wanted that same more out of him too - and at that point he just didn't care anymore, which is why he ain't been seen with anyone in a long time.

And to make matters even more infuriating - he can't even explain what that thing is! Just that it makes him feel like he's going to break out in hives when it happens! So yeah, he figured, he'd just stay single.

Except then there were Roy and Keeley, and they were like his favorite people in the world? So he tried to tell them the truth, as best he could put it, that it wasn't what they were offering that was wrong - it was Jamie that was wrong.

Roy and Keeley listened to him, and Keeley was super understanding and said that she'd gotten a vibe from him before that she'd never been able to put her finger on, but she'd always let it guide her on when she needed to give him space. Then Roy got the angry caterpillar look on his face and told them both to wait a moment, and he called some lady that he knew from yoga, and anyways it turned out that her son had just come out to her as aromantic, and it sounded like maybe I was struggling with that, and its been such a relief, you know? Like, there was nothing ever wrong with me, it turns out there was just this word I didn't know; and now that I know it, I can get what I want - and I can be with who I want, 'cause then no one's going into it blind, see? We can all be on the same page, and no one has to be disappointed and get their feelings hurt, and I don't have to be alone if I don't want to be alone, and.... Ted?

Ted?

Ted has a panic attack right there in the pub.

As the fic then continues, Ted has a series of revelations about himself and Jamie finds himself acting as a sort of.... accidental aromantic guru. To Ted.

Who he still hasn't told about the thing with his dad.

The fic itself is still very early-days conceptually, but it absolutely ends up with Ted being in three separate, openly spoken-about queer platonic relationships with Rebecca, Trent, and Beard before he ever ends up making it back on American soil.

I say 'openly-spoken about' because Ted and Beard are their own thing that ends up being confronted - with Ted admitting that part of the reason he never felt comfortable telling Beard he could do better than Jane was that in a way that seemed like crossing a line. Telling your friend who they could and couldn't date. There was a line, wasn't there, a status quo on which relationship you had to put first if you wanted a real commitment with someone. There was a line right?

"There's never been a line for you, Teddy."

From there it's like- what's it mean if he's always sort of known Trent is into him, and he's always been worried about leading him on, but at the same time some of his favorite nights have been when the two of them stay late at the Dog Track and they just... talk?

What's it mean when he loves Rebecca, but he's never once had the urge to wine and dine her? When he doesn't want anything to change between them, but he would like to exist in the same room as her basically every day until the end of time? Is that even fair to her?

Is that fair to any of them?

How is it fair if Ted asks for what he wants when he knows full well he can't give any of them what they want in return?

Will Ted ever even be comfortable asking for that? Asking for what he wants?

Actually, he will ask for one thing he wants- he wants Roy Kent to stop growling at him.

He doesn't know how to get that either.

[the-ocean-in-motion]

A post for publicly sharing the products of my Drawfee Lalafell idol project!

(if u don't know what the fuck I'm saying just scroll on)

NOTE: I am not affliated with Drawfee I just stole their logo for that edit. I'm not making money Julia pls don't sue me

FAQ

Q: Why do this? A: Fatal case of brainworms

Q: How long did you spend on making these? A: Too long. Enough questions

Jokes aside, here's a proper intro to what this is for people who aren't in that one very specific discord: As a creative project of sorts, I decided to make 4 Lalafells in FFXIV based on the Drawfee crew (youtubers). SPECIFICALLY these are based on their Newsday Comic Designs, because there's only so much staring at real people's faces really zoomed in I can do before I start feeling like a creep.

So, No, these are not "lifelike" or even "as close to life like as i can make potato people in a 10 year old video game". They're based on stylized ideas of people, warped by my creative liberty. That left me more space to make them cute instead of uncanny valley, which I'm sure any drawfee members that see this post might appreciate too.

They're also all heavily modded. It's more fun for dressup.

With that said! Onwards to the pictures (and design notes)!

Nathan: I actually "made" the beard for this myself - or, rather, I refitted it from a modded beard for Roegadyn. I even made an effort to mold it into a rough flower shape, but I'm afraid it doesn't show up that well. Still, remembering that there is no full beard for Lalafell in the vanilla game, I think it actually looks quite cute! For this "casual" fit I made an effort not to make Nathan look too fashion-y. Of course, they're idol photoshoot style pics, so I still had to dress him up a bit! With this sporty fit with the fun big red boots reminiscent of early video game character designs, I think I landed in a pretty nice middle ground.

Julia: This is the only design I paid real life money to make. I spent forever futzing with free hair mods trying to find one I liked, but in the end I forked over a few bucks to an experienced hair modder's online shop and got this hair that comes with all the features I wanted. Can't say I regret the purchase, it's very pretty. For the outfit, I knew what I wanted pretty much immediately. I have had this outfit mod for a long time, but I've never really known what to use it for. It feels very Julia, even if I can't remember necessarily seeing her wear this kind of thing before. Maybe it just feels French, and I associate Julia with France?

Karina: Karina's face sculpt mod was very easy to decide. Looking at the list of the free female Lala faces, I saw one that looked like a little shit - and named "Give Me the Phone" - and immediately knew it was perfect. I had to edit this hair to become hat compatible for later outfits, but overall this one was full of easy picks. Maybe I'm projecting too hard, though? I even dressed her in a top I modded for myself, after all.

Jacob: Jacob's design is one I agonized over, because finding a hair for him was quite hard. Short hair mods are rarer than long ones, and Newsday Jacob's hair is very distinctive. In the end I had to settle for a more realistic style, but I'm told it still reads as him. I wound up putting Jacob in maybe the cutesy-est outfit of the four. I don't think he'd mind, but either way the funny little overalls were too big a temptation for me to resist. Accessorising with bandages is where my weeb roots really shine through, though. Portraits done, here's the additional materials I've made!

Drawfee Kindergarten Field trip! Fun fact, I took this screenshot mere seconds before the dungeon I used as a set kicked me out, which means I spent the entire instance timer just deciding on accessories and posing! Where are they going? To see the big squid at the Aetherfont's center, of course!

The first music video! Motions not by me, I'm not that talented, these are retargeted Project Sekai dances (retargeting also not by me lmao animation modding scares me)

Childish war is such a fun song and dance, never mind the fact that none of the "personalities" really work for drawfee. It's dancing lalas! Who cares!

That's it! I might do more music videos or photo shoots in the future, but that's highly dependent on my brain chemistry, so truly nothing is certain. If you made it this far, I hope my silly little project brought you some joy! (and olive) And hey!

Check this out!

[casdeans-pie]

Fanfiction Q&A

Tagged by @thepagemistress thanks so much for the tag!! I love stuff like this asdfghjkl

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

36

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

311,091

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Supernatural because it's my most recent fandom and I have extreme destiel related brainworms - but I do also still write Izuocha/My Hero Academia stories from time to time. I've officially 'left the fandom' but I find the ship cosy to write, so they're easy to come back to every so often. I would really like to get back into writing for Genshin too at some point! There are so many characters and their personalities are all so barely defined that it's a lot of fun to shake the grab bag of them and play around with ships and tropes.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Ahh they're all MHA. I wrote them at kind of the emergence of the MHA fic scene though. So it was just good timing. It's crazy that they've remained my most popular fics even this many years later wow.

Also fun fact, the two ships here had fandoms that actively hated each other because Ochako is in both of them. I was living my best multi shipping life.

Also also, the jump in number between #1 and #2 is wild. BBB is a fandom experience I will treasure forever.

#1 Beep Beep Beep - Izuocha / My Hero Academia - 2,245

#2 Saw This. Thought of You - Izuocha / My Hero Academia - 787

#3 Ceiling Scorch Marks - Kacchako / My Hero Academia - 675

#4 Green's Your Colour - Izuocha / My Hero Academia - 582

#5 Sweaty Palms - Kacchako / My Hero Academia - 544

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Heck yeah!! It may take me anywhere between a day and a month, but I will always reply at some point. I like to repay the kindness of leaving a comment with acknowledgement <3 even if all I can manage back is a keyboard smash and a thank you

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh, easily easily Don't Stop Dreaming (Izuocha/MHA) I cackle like a classic disney villain every time someone leaves a comment about how they didn't notice the main character death tag and the ending broke them. Did I put it in the middle of the tags simply to make missing it easier? maybe so.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Okay this one is hard. Because 99% of my fics are fluff. They pretty much all have a happy ending lmaoooo

The cheesiest happy ending might have to go to Cat Thief (Reddie/IT) though - that whole fic I tried to capture the vibe of a cheesy Hallmark movie and then for the ending I really dialled it up to ten. Cavity inducing honestly aaa

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I don't think so??? I've had the odd piece of criticism here and there, which makes me like >:( because I didn't ask for crit and I'm doing all this for freeeee

But otherwise, nope <3

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not anything I've ever published (because it's not very good asdfghjkl) It's honestly very vanilla and mostly about the ooey gooey feelings more than the smut itself, so I don't know whether it would really appeal?

Either way any smut I ever decide to post on AO3 would have to be anonymously. Too many people I know in real life know my Izupie username and just the thought of one of them googling me one day and finding my AO3 is bad enough even without any smut fics being on there RIP

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Hmm, not really crossovers? I write AU's of other worlds - like, I wouldn't write the cast of IT meeting the characters of Soul Eater, but I wrote the characters of IT in the world of Soul Eater. Does that make sense??

Two birds with stone because Dances of the Souls (Reddie/IT/Soul Eater) is also the craziest 'crossover' I've ever written. I saw some fanart and got inspired, and to this day I can't believe I wrote like 10k words of that.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I did !! Many manyyy years ago. Someone sent me a message to say that they'd noticed somebody had reposted one of my fics but just changed the characters. Can't even remember what fandom they'd made it for.... They'd stolen a whole bunch of Izuocha fics and just changed the names! So a few affected Izuocha writers including myself sent them messages asking them to take the stolen fics down and within a few hours their whole profile had been deleted.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No!! But I would LOVE that !! Anyone who ever wants to translate any of my fics, please know the answer will be yes!!

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I'm the process of that actually with Seal My Heart (Izuocha/MHA)!! It's been such a fun process but I feel so bad because I'm really bad at procrastinating and getting distracted by working on multiple things at once and I don't have a whole lot of free time, so I am probably the worst collab partner you could have!!! (sorry!!!!)

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I usually change this answer based on my current fandom tbh! Right now I can't imagine any ship affecting my brain in quite the same way as Destiel.

I think it's the ALMOST of it that has given me infinite brainworms and hurts my soul. And they have just the most delicious dynamic. They're best friends. They're fighting. They're soft. They're gonna burn the whole world for each other. They're wearing silly cowboy hats. etc etc

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I wish I had it in me to write part 2 of Barks (Reddie/IT). I had this whole extra plot with all these conspiracies and saving the town and ultimately wanted to end it with Eddie getting turned into a werewolf too, but it had already gone on to nearly 100k words and I just wanted to write other things asdfkl

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hmm.... I would say maybe the way that I create a mood? I like to really appeal to all the senses when I write to kind of make you feel like you're there in the scene. Changing my writing style to add to the atmosphere is also something I think I do quite well? Like short choppy sentences for tension etc etc.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue. Dialogue all day. If everyone could just, not speak? That would be great. I really struggle to capture characters specific voices.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic.

I can't say I've ever given it much thought... I think it would be okay as long as you're VERY sure that it's correct.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Ahh that would be my Yu-Gi-Oh self insert fanfiction all hand written in a little notebook that I wrote as a child :') I wrote me and a friend into so many adventures with the Yu-Gi-Oh characters. It's extremely cute.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Beep Beep Beep without a doubt. I had so so so much fun with it. I have a whole notebook filled with plans and notes about each character (even the ones that appear for small scenes or are only mentioned!) and I just had a blast the whole time coming up with what cameos I could insert and little references I could scatter around. I had backstories planned out that didn't even make it into the fic but helped inform how this universe had changed the characters from their canon counterparts.

Updating it and having people anticipating the updates was such a buzz I can't even explain. I would get messages about it, some very kind artists drew fanart of it! The whole experience was all I had ever wanted as a fanfic writer. I loved every moment.

On a more recent note - I haven't written anything as self indulgent as Flicker, Fizzle, Pop (Destiel/Supernatural) for a long long time and I LOVE that for me. I had soooo much fun! And I was so excited to update it because I had so many people excited to read it! Very very fond of this fic <3

Phew that went on for longer than I expected - turns out I can ramble about my own writing for a long time, who knew right???? asdfghjkl;

Tagging some writers! @encyclopika @amynchan @citrinediamondeyes @velvethopewrites @loserchildhotpants @king4aday @fivefeetfangirl @jemariel @microsuedemouse No pressure though! (I'm just curious about your answers hehehe) But also if you see this and you're not tagged and wanna do it anyway - do eeeeet!!

[omaegorverse]

YOU are giving me serious brainworms with the omegafication thingy...like what if after a series of brutal labours to wonky loser children you still don't have your conquerors reborn trio PLUS are now unable to have any more??? well surely you m-pregify your (alredy breedable imho) brotherhusband?? like that's the next logical move, right???

i just feel like the post-dance targs relly didnt have enough imagination.... egg nearly got there but he blowed everypony up. but he was nearly there Trust. daeron should have used rhllor magic to make fire swords maybe the dorne conquest would have stuck. baelor should have invented faith magic every other religion gets some. daena you could have birthed dragons i believe in you. she should have mpregnated aegon