pockysh

[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 🥀💌☺️🥴

[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

[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 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[duesternis]

And one more for the way - Serennedy

The bar was mostly deserted by now, only a handful of other patrons still nursing drinks, saying their goodbyes. With a little sigh Leon heaved himself up on one of the barstools and Luis touched his shoulder as he walked past, behind the bar, to pull up Marc’s tab for him. Sitting here Leon was awfully close to the photograph of the young dancer and he couldn’t keep his eyes averted. It showed the young man from the hips up, his torso twisted with movement, spine arched as his arms swooped dramatically. The suit or costume he was wearing was tight, showing off a trim waist perfectly. “An old thing,” Luis said suddenly, leaning against the bar, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers, distractingly elegant. “Sorry?” He pointed at the photograph with his cigarette. “The photo.” His Spanish accent was more pronounced now than it had been earlier. Maybe the late night was getting to him. “I don’t know, ten years old now? Nine, maybe.” “It’s good. Very...” Leon trailed off, gesturing vaguely and Luis laughed, nodding. “I know! The Photographer did such a good job capturing the dance, it makes me hear the music again!” There was a spark in Luis’ eyes, an animated flair to his movements and even the way he stood that made Leon feel like a deer in the headlights. He nodded now, playing with a coaster on the bartop.

Click here for the full thing

thank you @waldwasser for introducing the lads to me and feeding my brainworms so well, love you!

[sugar-omi]

(swiftie asker - i love that this is how i've cemented myself here) I'M GOING TO SCREAM TYSM??? HELLO???? WRITER'S FREAK HAS BEEN MATCHED AT 3:30AM ON A THURSDAY????? YOU'RE TELLING ME /THEE/ OLBA BOYS CEO LIKES /MY/ WRITING??????? YOU DON'T GET IT I'VE BEEN SITTING HERE STIMMING SO HARD MY GIRLDICK MIGHT FALL OFF /QUOTE, POS

OHHHHHHHHH YOU MADE SUCH A BIG MISTAKE BRINGING UP TSMWEL. THIS ISN'T EVEN A "HEAR ME OUT" SITUATION IT'S A "YOU WILL SIT DOWN AND YOU WILL LISTEN GODDAMMIT" SITUATION. and to that my ass is FIRMLY planted in this seat and i am slamming a comically overstuffed manila folder onto the table as we speak. starting with "they just ghosted you - now you know what it feels like" and how this line was written for baxter alexander ward. in this essay i will

THE BRIDGE OF THAT SONG. FUCK DUDE I WAS LISTENING TO IT DURING ONE OF MY REPLAYS OF THE BAXTER DLC AND I WAS LITERALLY IN TEARS. MY KEYBOARD WAS GETTING WATERLOGGED AS I SAT THERE. I AM SO GLAD YOU BROUGHT THIS UP BECAUSE BOY OH BOY DO I HAVE SOME SHIT TO SPIT.

"in fifty years, will all this be declassified? and you'll confess why you did it, and i'll say 'good riddance'." FIFTY YEARS IS FIVE IF YOU SQUINT. IT JUST MATCHES UP TOO PERFECTLY SO IT OFFICIALLY WORKS NOW. THAT'S GIRL MATH. the way baxter eventually tells mc why he did what he did and by then it might be too late for mc to forgive him (cough. 'and i'll forget you but i'll never forgive...')

"you crashed my party and your rental car" IT'S LITERALLY TOO PERFECT??? HELLO????? THE PARTY PLANNING MOMENT AND THE CHAUFFEUR BULLSHIT HE WAS ON???????

"you said normal girls were boring, but you were gone by the morning" YOU WERE GONE BY THE MORNING. YOU W. WWWHAHATT THEF UCKKKKK.

you're literally cooking up a fucking FEAST with the prechorus lyric though because was that his goal? it very well could have been - baxter could have stepped out of that cab, taken one look at mc, and decided they would be the one he strung along. because what if he was well aware of just how much it hurt others for him to become a normalcy then a novelty all over again - and he still couldn't stay away from dangling their heartstrings from his fingers like ribbons, if only to at least feel some semblance of control over his life anymore? he was just some hurt kid - barely, if at all, but semantics - but that never gave him the right to hurt those around him in the way that he did. what right does the smallest man who ever lived have to strike a deal with the devil, then act surprised when the blood's on his hands?

COUGHCOGUHGVOCH BUT AHAHAHA ANYWAYS. making those little shoo motions with my hands, go rest up silly!! i'm more than thrilled that you've stuck with me and my brainworms for this long, and you most definitely deserve the best of rests omgomg 🫶🏼🫶🏼

LMAOOO NO NOT THE QUOTE. I HAVENT HEARD THAT IN FOREVER

idk about ceo but I'm honestly happy my words are worthy of such a happy reaction 🤭

ALSO "what right does the smallest man who ever lived have to make a deal with the devil, then act surprised when the bloods on his hands?" I WILL LITERALLY JUMP OFF A BRIDGE. STOP. IM IN TEARS??? GENUINELY?????

someone put that on a billboard, I'm so serious.

but omg, to ride off the "you said normal girls were boring, but you were gone by the morning" and everything you said about baxter doing it on purpose...

baxter stepping out and seeing you wait with cove for your new neighbor for the summer, maybe remembering you sneaking into the soiree with derek or sneaking into your soiree and dancing with you charmingly.

either way, regardless of if you snuck across the lawn or shared a dance with pre-teen baxter, he finds you charming. ethereal. captivating.

no one would wait for a random neighbor if they weren't sweeter than pie, and no one should welcome him so warmly, approach him even if shyly, if they weren't special.

you're special. he can see it. he feels it.

and I've said it before, baxter knows your life has been small. confined to this little street in this little town, so small it's hardly a blip on the map.

he knows you're curious, enthralled by this mystery next door to you. but if you had grown up next to him, you wouldn't be so curious.

you'd have known how pompous and arrogant he was. how simple his thinking was.

and he tries to keep his affection with you surface level. tries to keep it to just a summer fling, something to satisfy your curiosity, to get you to stop looking at him like that. to make his heart stop yearning and for his eyes to stop wandering to you...

holds your hand, visits you in the middle of the night to tell you he's home, but too shy to say he misses you. doesn't wanna give you that inch over him, doesn't want to make this more than what it is. because it's just a fling, and you're just temporary warmth for him cold heart.

won't admit you're the only one to make him feel this warm. will never even think to himself that you are full of love and he's willing to step into the ocean of your loving arms, for fear that he'll drown in it.

everything is about money. everyone uses each other. his parents taught him that much.

love is fickle, love is too sensitive, and baxter knows he's a bulldozer. his edges are too sharp for such tenderness.

but in front of you, in the end, he does as he wants as he always does.

he doesn't take it further in the hotel room, doesn't tell you he missed you, doesn't keep his "confession" to himself.

because he's selfish. he knows this could end badly, not all his break ups have been smooth. but he wants to know what it feels like to be loved by someone special. what's to know what it's like for someone special to call out to him, touch him, yearn for him. seek him out and still pull him closer for more...

he just wants it to be like a movie, just for a little while. he wants that coming of age summer love that the movies produce, and he wants to live out fairytales that his baby sitter read to him.

even if it's at the cost of you... maybe that dark part of him hopes he leaves a dent in you so deep that you feel it years later and still remember his name. he wants you to yearn for him like he yearns for normalcy, for human warmth and affection.

but he also hopes that you forget him and that he's the only one who yearns so painfully. that his heart is the only one who aches at the end of the night, and you forget these summer nights.

it's selfish. he's so selfish. he wants too much even though he tries not to want anything at all.

that's why, even though he hopes you'll just let him go easily once summer ends, he wants some nice memories. he wants to be genuinely happy, wants to "love" and be "loved" in return.

and you're right. he striked a deal with the devil and signed away his tiring fate for "control" over his life, even if it meant trading broken hearts and morality, his humanity for it.

but even though he knew the deal he signed, seeing you cry or get angry is much different than imagining it. it hits much harder than he never thought, having chosen to ignore the fate of your summer fling. he couldn't bare to imagine it, but he didn't think about how to bare seeing it.

and even though his heart aches, he feels bad for you. feels bad for himself in many ways, a mix of self hate and guilt and desperation sinks its teeth into his stomach and gnawed on his insides with a gluttonous hunger.

even with those feelings, he glares at you, reminds you cruelly that this was the only fate for this relationship, and it wouldn't end any other way, and that you are the one wasting your energy getting upset over a fate he "predicted."

but even though he says that... even though he slams the door on you... even though he's the one who blocked your phone number... why is he the one who is unable to move on? why is he the one who sees your face and hears your voice and feels your touch in every person that tries to fill your place.

and why is he the one looking at your window, hoping the lights are still on and you're still waiting.

(and why, after all these years, does he cry when he sees they are off.)

[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

[sethmacfarlanedeathpose]

Omega Gambit brainworms; maybe like a year or two before they get together, like right after one of them joins the team, Rogue & Gambit are kind of indifferent to each other (or so they tell themselves) until Remy's heat comes around. He's the horniest bastard ever and while it isn't uncontrollable it greatly hinders him, so he's got a sort of no strings attached deal with a few of the other mutants (Logan). Rogue knows this and is quietly seething cus she can't have sex like a normal person due to her mutation, and totally not because she wants a piece of Remy, not at all. Maybe Remy's heat catches him off guard, or him & Logan get a bit carried away, but regardless it ends with Rogue walking in and seeing Remy bent over the couch in the TV room getting knotted. And what a fucking sight it is, it haunts her for weeks in the best possible way. Gambit can barely bring himself to look at her and that makes missions together a real trick, u til Rogue comes to him & confesses if she could, she'd have a piece of him too, so he has nothing to be embarrassed of. Now Gambit can't really get off with any ody else, now with thoughts of Rogue's smile and curt flirtation drifting into his mind (they will dance around each other for the next two years and he will perish immediately after she tells him she returns his feelings. Seethe)

My mind created a vivid image of Logan knotting Gambit and it was glorious. And the idea of Rogue being so worked up because she can't do the same to Gambit is so good. Like she will do anything to be in Logan's position and have Remy on his hands and knees.

[ferrarihamilton]

anyone want some brainworms about a charlos coming of age indie movie? thank @finalgirlcharlesleclerc for this!

opening sequence is short shots of *insert misc european city*. it's that weird just past dawn light, so the city is just waking up, we get silhouettes of the tall buildings, maybe some people going to work early.

eventually we see shots inside a big train station where there's a train pulling in. the first shot we see of carlos is him stepping off the train, looking rumpled and disheveled, big backpack on his shoulder. he's probably fiddling with his phone, restlessly turning it on and off again. he gets off the train, cut to several shots of him hopelessly trying to hail a taxi, him staring out the window as the city goes past, checking into a hostel with polite tight lipped smiles to the receptionist. the hostel receptionist asks much planned while you're in the city? and he kind of shrugs and doesn't answer. goes up to his room, flops down on the bed. goes onto his phone, his face lit up by the screen and tired.

charles is a busker, he plays *insert instrument here*. he loves it! he likes seeing people come in and out of the city, he likes talking to the little kids who dance, he likes flirting with the strangers who compliment him. his haunt is the train station & recently there's been this beautiful man with MASSIVE COW EYES coming in and staring at the long distance departures screen like his life depends on it but he never even buys a ticket?

so eventually after a while charles is like hello? are you okay? and carlos ofc has been miserably looking at the departures screen because everyday he's been thinking maybe i AM an idiot for going on an oe now, maybe i should buy a ticket back to spain and try make amends with my father, where would i even go next?

and charles is like well if you don't know whether you should go home or go somewhere else, why don't you just stay here for a little while? do you not like this city?

and carlos has to awkwardly kind of be like i...... haven't really seen much of the city yet. too busy brooding and being sad.

and charles is like i refuse to let this beautiful man turn his independence trip into a sadness trip. also fuck you my city is AMAZING and im going to PROVE it to you. cue charles dragging carlos to his friend's jazz gigs, an underground bar. they visit an art gallery together. they have a picnic on the riverside. and at first carlos is like ah, charles, i do not know if i would like that, except charles is like c'mon you WILL, you WILL!

and wherever they go he gets carlos to take a billion photos of him and carlos is a bit eh about it at first, like who is this guy who's dragging him around? he looks about 12 years old, and he nags carlos until he agrees to go somewhere because you are young and in *city*! it's illegal to be sad here!

and eventually along the way carlos finds him annoying in an endearing way instead of an actual aggravating way, and ofc he's so busy being annoyed (affectionate) the whole time he's around charles that he forgets about being sad about his dad.

anyway the climax of this is they probably go to a gay bar and as they're walking home at like 5am, when the sunrise is just starting (call back to the opening shots :))) charles is like did you like that? and carlos has been quiet the whole night because he did like it, and he's trying to figure out why it makes him feel happy and complicated all at once. and then the sun comes past the horizon and charles turns to look at him walking backwards on the cobblestone streets still waiting for an answer, silhouetted by the dawn, and carlos is like oh. OH. fuck. and charles is looking at him carefully, and carlos says charles, but can't say anything more, because it's hard being brave.

but charles just softens in understanding and says, i know, and without speaking they go back to charles' flat and they don't fuck but they do fall into bed together.

cue the next morning carlos wakes up to a text message from his dad and just completely freezes up. bolts back to his hostel. charles wakes up alone and texts carlos like ??? and is lowkey heartbroken when there's no reply.

carlos is having a panic attack in his hostel. eventually one of his sisters calls him and she's mad that he has been ignoring their texts, and he feels shameful and guilty all at once all over again, but then she's like fuck dad. i love you, go live your life, just don't fucking go ghost again. are you happy?

and he takes too long to answer, but he does say yes, and she's like, knowingly, you met someone, didn't you.

it's not a lie, even if carlos isn't sure if charles fits what she's implying, so he says yes. she hangs up and he feels a million times better. and then he looks down at his phone and he sees 5 texts from charles that get progressively more and more upset and he's like oh shit. i fucked up.

and because carlos the classic romance hero, he DOES run through the train station to where charles is busking and charles is like ?? and carlos has to be like im so sorry im an idiot, im sorry i left you, and charles is smiling kind of shakily trying to say i was very upset as a joke but his voice cracks in the middle and carlos just feels even WORSE and he goes on a mini monologue about how when he came into the city he was lost and trying to find himself and instead i found you. or you found me.

and charles kisses him as the sunlight is coming in through the huge ornate windows of the train station :)) they live happily ever after THE END.