THIS MAN WILL POST THINGS SO CRYPTIC THAT THERE IS SIMPLY NO HETEROSEXUAL EXPLANATION
KNOW WHAT? KNOW WHAT DUŠAN ANSWER QUICKLY 🔫🔫🔫
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For @kylivier <3
Dusan: I made tea.
Federico looks up from his phone: I don’t want tea.
Dusan: I did not make tea for you. This is my tea.
Federico rolls his eyes: Then why are you telling me?
Dusan: It is a conversation starter.
Federico: That’s a lousy conversation starter.
Dusan: Oh, is it? We are conversing. *Federico gets up from the table*
Dusan: Wait, where are you going?
Federico: I'm ending the conversation. *sits on the couch*
*Dusan stays quiet and takes a sip of his tea.*
*Minutes passed, and it's still quiet.*
Dusan, trying to make conversation: A-are you sure you don't want t- *gets cut off*
Federico: I'm sure; I don't want it.
Dusan: OK, no need for the attitude. *Dusan sits next to Federico and turns on the TV*
Minutes later.....
Federico, looks at Dusan: Can you make me tea?
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A GROUP OF QUEERS??? IM BAPTIZING YOU
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holding hands😇
I mean cmon ain’t no way ts isn’t gay
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Happy 2024 from the dumbass duo
They're literally dumb as rocks
DUŠA LOOKS LIKE A HOLYWOOD VILLAIN. FEDE LOOKS HOMELESS. (they're both beautiful in mind bogglingly incomprehensible and silly ways.) THEY'RE IDIOTS
Also I'll take this as confirmation of Fede being Duša's new year's kiss
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With @kylivier we were talking that Dusan would be a total horny moron all the time and that when he saw Fede's photos he would have no control, even if they were such mundane photos of his day JBJKFDSJKF 😭😭😭
(Ho finito = I'm done [in that way])
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He follows the two most important people of his life
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HIIII ALI
Can I ask some former Yugoslavian and Mr. church crumbs 👉👈
I could do it but I'm mid
hi jules!! <3 crumbs coming right up :-) set when fede was injured bc i am uncreative and unoriginal and crave pain apparently. smh
Fede’s eyes are sullen and his hair is damp when he lays his head on Dušan. Burnt, sickly sugar and the bitterness of Seville orange are warm on his skin.
“What did you do today?”
Dušan traces a drop of water that runs down the nape of his neck. Fede shudders a little, a labored, molten breath.
“Nothing,” he says. His shoulders drop against him. “Nothing at all.”
He closes his eyes. Dušan absently thinks he could count each of his eyelashes, one-by-one, serene and trembling over the pearl of his skin. His hand hovers over his head, searching, seeing.
He doesn’t touch.
“You can, you know,” Fede says after some time. Quiet, warm breath spoken into his collar-bone.
That horrible feeling fills Dušan, slow and so hot that it’s cold.
“Can what?”
“Touch me. I won’t break.”
Well, there’s a crease between his brows.
So he presses his thumb to it.
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