#I'm deranged for him.. he makes me unwell..

[hollowsart]

I still want that one Mysterio statue figure.. the way they gave him such a realistic and normal body.. but still kept his fat thighs. I love that. I love the consistency of him just having the biggest thighs. 10/10

I want this a totally normal amount. Need him.

[violet-moonstone]

highlights from "searching for oswald...and chicken"

wow I loved this episode...I feel like I say that every time but I REALLY REALLY enjoyed this one

first of all its a Dagur episode, which automatically makes it great...most of the screenshots I took are of him. Honestly all of his dialogue is very quotable, especially since so many of the jokes they give him are thinly veiled adult humour

also the B plot with chicken was certainly something (and makes me think the writers were thinking about the end of the hidden world while writing it?)

ok so the beginning of the episode was already tugging at my heartstrings. I love seeing Dagur and Heather's sibling relationship, whether hey're arguing or getting along.

Well that's deeply upsetting! and the fact that he said "most of his life" makes me wonder how much of the confidence Dagur displayed as a teenager was a cover for whatever he was dealing with internally.

The part where Dagur hugs Heather and she looks happy but almost surprised was very bittersweet. It seems like she's still getting used to having a family, and affection catches her off guard.

Excuse me while I go cry

Call me deranged but I think Dagur slamming Snotlout against a cage was hot

As always, Hiccup is adorable. Literally looks like a cat

This is funny but also very upsetting! Snotlout and Dagur really make a habit of using humourous line delivery to cope with being deeply unwell:

*clears throat* uh yeah Dagur, I'm sure you do love a good "fruit bath," from time to time if you know what I mean...

Come on, the writers, animators and voice actor HAVE to have known that line came across as suggestive. Like the way he sounds? His facial expression? They may not have intended it to specifically imply he was talking about getting in a sauna with some twinks, but it certainly sounded like something sensual was going on.

Also I didn't get a shot of this but when Dagur starts listing adjectives to describe Heather's reckless behaviour, Hiccup says "Sentinel" while looking at Oswald's journal. Dagur says something like "that's not quite the word I'd use," which makes me think Dagur was going to call her a not so PG word...

Snotlout staring directly at the camera while narrating Tuffnut's emotional breakdown in the style of a pun-loving mystery novelist:

What an asshole (I love him). there's something really funny about Tuff leaning against the tree with a hand on his hip. Poor guy. Astrid and Stormfly were clearly less amused than I was.

Ok let's talk about Hiccup motivating Dagur to open the door to Oswald's shelter. My little Dagcup heart was really soaring here. And look at the lighting!

LOOK AT HIM! LOOK AT HIS FACE!

Oooohh man, Dagur expressing guilt about his past and Hiccup trying to help him through it also really got to me.

Dagur: I was a villain!

Hiccup: No, you were a kid

Me: *crying*

Because yeah, Dagur in Riders of Berk/Defenders of Berk did horrible things, but he was also enabled by all the adults in his life who could have stepped up after Oswald left. I've already written (both in posts and in one of my Dagcup fics) about how being thrown into a dungeon as a kid only made Dagur a worse person (no one in the show talks about the scars on his face that weren't there before...). And There is clearly an opportunity for restorative justice when it comes to characters like Alvin and Eret that wasn't extended to Dagur despite the fact that they had already overpowered him and could have at least given him a choice between punishment and trying to make up for his actions. Anyway...let me not rant about that anymore.

Ok what's next...oh yeah! Astrid doing this:

Hilarious.

Um...ok so...I needed to screenshot this for uh...reasons. It's the um...the composition and the...the lighting and...yeah. All that stuff.

THE DRAWING OSWALD DID OF DAGUR AND HEATHER AS KIDS

oooooohhh my heart!

Look. At. My. Boy. He looks so happy and at peace after reading his father's letter.

Ok so again...the writers making very interesting decisions for Dagur's lines.

Dagur being funny and a little concerning again

I liked the colour scheme for this Gronckle

More Dagur appreciation.

Before the episode where Fishlegs helps Dagur fly Shattermaster, I would have assumed Dagur would make fun of Fishlegs for being a nerd -- but instead he appreciates it. I think their friendship is super adorable, and I wish we got to see more of it.

Fishie! He calls him Fishie! (I ship them a little sometimes tbh) I can see Dagur having a thing for nerds.

hehehe

and uh, let's close off with hiccup being hot and windswept

[fairystar111]

fairystar111 Fic/AU Master List:

Hey guys I realized my blog is a little bit of a mess to scroll through so I made a master list of all my current works for my tumblr readers. This will be updated regularly with any new works. Also if you want to see new posts quickest follow me on Ao3 at fairystar111. I usually post things on there first since tumblr is a lot of formatting work tbh.

Series Title: The New Days

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

AU Summary: This is a dark platonic yandere Villains Win AU. In this AU the war broke out right after the stain arc and took everyone by surprise. The villains quickly won the battle and decided to take their spoils of war in the form of the students. Each part focuses on a different child and their new life with their captor. I'm not going to lie some of these are a little heavy(*cough*#6 *cough*) so make sure to read all tags please.

Status: Ongoing

Parts:

Dark New World : Prologue

Dead Man's Wish: Yandere Big Brother!Shigaraki takes Izuku after he receives a letter from Afo's confirming him as his son.

Heirs of Yesterday : Yandere!Dabi taking back what is his (Shouto) and forcing him to be the weak baby brother he left behind all those years ago.

Birds of a Feather: Yandere Villain Papa!Hawks takes his intern Tokoyami as his fledgling and uses his avian instincts against him to force him to submit.

Chain the Past: This one involves the entire Yandere!League of Villains taking other members of class 1A and forcing them to be guard dogs for their children.

Trapped in Heaven: Yandere Dad!Twice and Yandere Big Sister!Toga take Ochaco after she saves Toga and Himiko becomes infatuated(platonically) with saving her in return. Though their methods are unconventional and end up hurting Ochaco mentally.

Two of a Kind: Big Brother!Spinner takes Asui in a moment of weakness/loneliness looking for companionship and ends up regretting his decision. He tries to correct his mistakes but the rest of the Yandere!League of Villains are not so quick to let go.

Series Title: Meant to be

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

AU Summary: This is a dark platonic yandere Omega-Verse AU. That focuses on Omega pup!Katsuki Bakugo being kidnapped by the League of Villains and forced to be their pup. Specifically Yandere!Alpha!Shigaraki and Yandere!Omega!Dabi's child. The rest of the league view him as a pack pup with Toga seeing him as her little brother.

Status: Ongoing

Parts:

Meant to be Ours: This story focuses on Bakugo's struggles with his omega classification along with his fight against both Stockholm Syndrome and his own underused suppressed instincts.

Meant to Be AU Omega-verse Guidebook!: A guide to understanding the fundamentals of the Meant to be AU

Series Title: Baby Blues

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

AU Summary: This is a dark Post-War AU focusing around the Todoroki family. In this AU Yandere!Endeavor is not too hurt during the war and still the Number One Hero after it. He becomes mentally unstable after seeing two of his son's almost die in war that he decides to take Shouto out of UA.

Status: Ongoing

Parts:

Oh Baby Blue don't you know I love you?: Enji is trying to be a good father in his own deranged way by locking Shouto away at home and keeping him away from hero work for his own safety. He convinces everyone that Shouto is mentally unwell that that is why he is gone. He forcibly cares for Shouto drugging him to keep him weak and treating him like a child, doing the things he never did the first time around.

Series Title: Puppy Love

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

AU Summary: Tomura Shigaraki accidentally kidnaps recently transformed puppy Izuku.

Status: Ongoing

Parts:

Chapter 1:

[moodyseal]

FAV APOLLO / PJO SHIPS GO 💞

OOOO difficult ask! I'm not usually someone who focuses on ships that much so I don't have many favourites (despite giving the opposite, much more intense impression) but there are some that make me particularly. How should I put this. Unwell

1. Apollo/Hyacinthus! I know that it's usually considered a boring ship because we were effectively shown 1% of what Hyacinthus' real personality might've been (Apollo spends more time thinking about his death than about his life doesn't he), but I'm hopeless over these two. I don't know what it is that's doing this to me

Maybe it's Hyacinthus potentially being much less perfect than what the myths present him as (as in stubborn and flawed, not homicidal and deranged and whatnot. Let's leave that to Commodus). Maybe it's Apollo's constant waiting and mourning over someone who will never really return. Maybe it's the love persevering despite it all. Maybe it's the mystery behind this man being so extraordinary that not only Apollo never forgot about him (to the point of still being reactive over any mention of him, as if the grief were still fresh) but also wished to be turned mortal just so he could die and be with him

Like dude who ARE YOU what's the deal with you how did you and this god tie your souls together so tightly that he's not known true happiness ever since you died

2. Apollo/Commodus. I have no good excuse or elaborate analysis for this one I just love drama and watching things burn to the ground. A flawed man who sees the good in everyone he lays his eyes upon VS a flawed man who hasn't got anything good inside him anymore. The desperate attempt to save someone who cannot be saved. Poetic cinema

(I do like to explore scenarios where these two reconcile though, because I do still believe that there's just the tiniest chance that Commodus might've been redeemed) (🤡)

3. Apollo/Naomi, the only (modern) rrverse relationship of his that we know anything about LMAO

I've been drawn to this ship mostly through fanfics but I do enjoy even what little content we have about them in canon. Between the song Naomi composed and Apollo's digressions about her in TOA they seem to still really care about each other, plus I'm quite convinced that he still watches over her because idk about you but the crowds cheering EXACTLY when the song about him comes on is a pretty obvious sign of a blessing to me

I'm actually still writing a fic about them!! Hopefully it'll see the light of day someday but anyway if I'm willingly writing something about a ship you just know that I'm not normal about it in any way shape or form

[lover-of-mine]

Anna! Hi! Hello!

I literally just joined tumblr today to be able to anon ask you. I think I should be the anxiety anon (aa is for sure in honor of Capt. Dad Bobby Nash and not in bad taste) because even typing this makes me feel way too seen. Does this count as human interaction? Guys, is it gay social anxiety if you only have inside thoughts because the idea of having outside thoughts makes you unwell? I'm not shaking--no, check--I am totally shaking rn, which is making it hard to type. But, I feel like I have reached critical mass on my Buddie thoughts and I will explode if I can't share them.

It is probably very rude to bust through the wall of your house like the Kool-Aid Man, so I want to say that I love your voice--your characterization and dialogue, particularly how you use humor in your fics is just *chef's kiss* for me. I have read them all but can't anon comment. I love your color theory and costume meta, too. Your takes are so measured and thoughtful and honestly just logical in a time where 9-1-1blr feels kinda sorta unmoored in reality. Fuck Twitter, your spy network tag is now my news feed because fandom reading comprehension and critical thinking scores have plummeted recently. Lou Who knows why?

Some things that are making me laugh/cry/cry-laugh rn:

The cockfighting ring call in Bobby Begins Again (2x16). Let's talk about closet space, bro: he-who-must-not-be-named canonically full-body flinched at literal cock coming at him. Somehow this is his gayest canon moment to me even though he has 2 canon full-on face assault man-on-man kisses.

The bridge call finale in Season 6, which I haven't watched in a minute, so I welcome fact-checking. I can't recall if it happens at the end of Love Is in the Air (6x17) as a cliff-hanger or if it is in Pay It Forward (6x18) proper, but right before the truck hits the bridge and triggers the collapse, Bobby is on the medical call on the bridge and he verbally instructs "K*nnard" to do something. The extra, presumably 1 of the old man retired firefighters they use to fill-out the 118 ranks, is wearing the "K*nnard" turnouts that nobody needed since 2x16's very accurate "Fairwell T*mmy. The 217's Loss is Our Gain" cake. So, how's that for invisible string debunker costume meta. As of 6x18: K*nnard was literally just an unused turnout coat on a hook in the costume dept. "Who cares?!?" is the 118 and 9-1-1's motto, fr. Like, nobody remembers gaf that he's a pilot, too, in an episode where Lucy flies off in the air ambulance, never to be seen again. Is "becoming a pilot" 9-1-1's way of telling your kid the dog "went to the farm" when you really had it put down while they were at school?

My change.org petition is for Buck and Eddie to have OS and RG's tattoos. I know makeup has been covering them up for years, but it has been bothering me so much since the ABC switch. It's like they're using the same tone of cover-up for RG and OS and it reads so yellow-orange that I consider it color theory outlier. Like, real talk, what do yellow-orange arms mean for the data, Anna? Tattoo-having people are known to get more tattoos. This is normal. RG and OS have so many more tattoos now than in Season 2 that Season 7 and 8 Buck and Eddie look like they have skin conditions that stop at their watch-straps and somehow in Season 8 RG is getting forehead-only orange foundation? Listen, I consider myself fandom-standard unhinged, not completely deranged, but like the full body Ken-doll spray tan on OS in Masks (8x05) has pushed me over the edge.

My Ted Talk is titled "Hey, ABC: Buddie = Fiscal Responsibility" because, wtf, just stop paying superfluous guest actors to be love interests and let the 2 mains shack up like God T*m M*near intended. (I lowkey think that smart cookie JLH is a girlboss genius who tied herself to KC, yeah yeah because of chemistry, Madney forever, of course, but also as job security when she said that Chimney was what she wanted for Maddie.) Seriously, let's reallocate the bullshit love interest slush fund money and bring the kid home. I hardcore head canon that Ravi saw Gerrard from the buffet line at the medal ceremony and just noped the fuck out of there indefinitely.

I'm just gonna leave this all here and back away because I've maxed out on all the human/social interaction accepted fandom love language of hyperbolic ranting that I can partake in before I turn into a full-blown thunderstorm chihuahua.

Can someone please Uber me a clown car home?

My love, hi. This was so fucking great to read ksoskaoakoakaoaa I'm literally on the floor laughing. Thank you for the compliments on the fics and metas. When someone says they like my characterization, I ascend to a better plane of existence. Honestly, the cock fight calls is really something else kspskapakoaa and they just didn't bother checking if they had written someone off before using the turnout because they needed more people there I guess.

The tattoos one had me howling tho, the cover-up of Ryan's hand tattoo this season has been AWFUL and the fact that they just wax Oliver all over to cover him in orange foundation drives me nuts, like please, just let them have the tattoos. (I was actually informed that they would need to license the tattoo from the artist for every use of it depending on the tattoos they decide to keep and that's probably why don't let them keep them, but if we are not letting them keep them, please color match better).

Honestly, they just need to get together already, please end this madness, it's been long enough, let Ryan be paid to make out with Oliver like he's been wanting all along kspskspakaokapa

Anyway, I'm obsessed with you, thank you for this one 🫶🫶

[nametakensff]

oooh can i request 🥶🤬🤧 for st/eddie?

Ok, so this ended up at 13.7k 💀 it just took over and I kept going - thank you so much for the prompt! 💕

E/ddie and S/teve had been planning to go to a concert together for months. The day of, however, they wake up sick and grouchy. Everything continues to spiral from there

~~~~~~

Content:

M/M, Established Relationship, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, colds, contagion, mess, handjobs, fevers, they're just generally super fucking unwell but fuck about it anyway, fetishy dirty talk

CW:

Lots of fighting and angst, mentions of homophobia, Q slur is used

Some other notes:

- I've written E/ddie as having undiagnosed ADHD - nobody knows it's a thing, including him

- The fic is set in January 1988, so S/teve and E/ddie have been in a relationship for about a year and a half

- I'm a British person who cannot drive and has been to Indiana twice, I'm trying my best to make this scenario believable haha

Fic is v NSFW, so under a readmore! Hope you enjoy 🥰

If Eddie hadn’t been teetering on the edge of breaking point for the last several hours already, the car rolling to a miserable, sputtering stop out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere would have been the final straw. As it was, he didn’t know whether to scream or cry. So he sat there in astonished disbelief as Steve attempted to start the car, over and over. He watched his boyfriend slap the steering wheel in frustration through unblinking eyes.

“Steve. Steve? Are you fucking kidding me right now!? Why the fuck have we stopped??”

He watched the muscles in the younger man’s jaw tighten, refusing to look at him and instead frowning angrily out of the front window. His knuckles were white where they gripped the wheel, and Eddie could swear a vein was starting to bulge on his forehead.

“We better not be out of gas. Steve? Are we – are we actually out of gas??”

Radio silence as he continued to stare at Steve, growing more panicked by the second.

“Ste-“

“YES, okay?? We’re out of fucking gas. God damn it!”

Steve slapped the wheel again, grinding his teeth. Before he could help himself, Eddie burst into high pitched squeals of laughter. He sounded deranged, hysterical, but he supposed he was having a breakdown and there was nothing much he could do to prevent it. At least Steve was finally looking at him – though glaring would be the more appropriate term.

“What the fuck?”

Eddie concurred – what the fuck, indeed. But no matter how much he willed it, the nervous laughter would not stop. Steve had had enough, cursing as he got out of the driver’s seat and slamming the door behind him. It would do no good to check for any petrol – Eddie had told him they were running low, but Steve just hadn’t listened. He checked anyway – the metalhead watched in the rear-view mirror as he popped the trunk and rummaged for a full cannister, coming up empty. At least Eddie’s insane cackles had fizzled down to the occasional reedy giggle. Steve got back in his seat, slamming the door again.

Several minutes of almost silence passed, both men staring blankly into space. An awkwardly loud sniffle from Steve jolted Eddie back to the present. He watched as Steve lifted a broad palm to hover in front of his gaping mouth, nostrils twitching in preparation for the oncoming sneeze. Underneath the exhaustion, the anger and utter defeat, Eddie still found himself admiring his boyfriend’s profile, eyes fixed on his crumpling expression, almost on autopilot.

“Hh-HAH!! HAAAESHHH’uuu!! H’RRIIISSHHH!! TSCHHHH!! Mother fucker –“

Steve fumbled in the glove box for a tissue, a napkin, anything to clean himself up with. The powerful sneeze had not only drenched his palm, several droplets running down his wrist, but his nose had started to run down his lip. Again, his search was futile – they had long used up any tissue or bandana they had to hand. Eddie sat in contemplation for a moment, then sighed heavily before reaching into the back seat for his things. He opened his backpack, glanced sadly at his Black Sabbath ‘Born Again’ Tour t-shirt, before wordlessly thrusting it in Steve’s general direction.

He heard Steve pause, hesitating, before he gently took the shirt from Eddie. The older man thought he heard a small ‘thank you’, but it honestly wouldn’t have surprised him if it had been a ‘fuck you’ either. Eddie grimaced at the sound of Steve emptying his poor, congested sinuses into his prized possession, arousal and frustration warring in his stomach. He turned his head in time to watch Steve wipe his nostrils dry, painfully red from hours of similar abuse.

Those sneezes had been notably louder and even messier than the endless preceding ones, which had already been amping up in intensity over the past couple of hours, making driving an increasingly difficult task. Eddie wondered if the silver lining of being lost in the middle of nowhere was that Steve hadn’t gotten them into any major accidents by sneezing them into an oncoming vehicle. The thought didn’t help him one bit, however. Silver linings, my ass. Silver linings could fuck off and die – much like he wanted to, in this present moment.

He leaned his head back against the seat, eyes closing against anxiety that flowed through his extremities in waves, engulfing him in a paralytic sense of doom. He really needed to keep his cool, but he was failing miserably. He’d just have to ride it out for now, wait until the panic plateaued and subsided.

He considered their current situation – both of them sick, with what he now suspected was the flu, given how quickly it had come on and the way his head was starting to pound. They were lost; they had no gas and their car was stuck on the side of a road with nothing but cornfields surrounding them as far as the eye could see, like some god damn B Horror movie. They had no food, no more Tylenol, no tissues. They had been fighting for hours. They were tired. It was below freezing outside, and he could already feel the lack of heating. It didn’t take a genius intellect to deduce that they were well and truly Fucked with a capital F.

As if some decidedly non-divine higher power had a personal vendetta against him – a suspicion which Eddie had entertained several times throughout his life – his nose was starting to tickle, again. More accurately, his head was abuzz with the desire to sneeze within milliseconds, giving him almost no warning or buildup before he was jerked forward by a fit of intensely itchy sneezes.

“HhdTT’chiew! Hggxt! Hig’xt! Ehg’xxt! GXXT’CHieww!!”

He had stifled the first one by sheer willpower, able to pinch his wildly flaring nostrils shut between a thumb and forefinger for the next few. The last somehow managed to barrel past his wavering grip, slick nostrils slipping free. He shouldn’t be suppressing them like this – not now, not when he was ill and the only thing it would seek to accomplish was a burgeoning sinus infection. His head throbbed anew, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, willing himself not to whimper.

“…You shouldn’t-“

“I know. Please. Just. Leave me alone.”

He knew that was the wrong thing to say, even after having said plenty of wrong things today already. He had heard the genuine concern in Steve’s voice when he spoke, and he could now feel that his previous anger had been rekindled, emanating from the former jock in almost tangible waves of resentment. He had often fucking hated his life before Steve, but this was the first time he’d ever fucking hated it since.

Steve was right, of course. He knew stifling would hurt him, and he normally reserved it for when he was unable to hold back an allergic fit in public. Here it was just him and Steve – his boyfriend, with the same fetish for sneezing as him. He should be sneezing with abandon, as he normally did around him. It pleased Steve, it pleased him, it didn’t hurt – what reason could he possibly have for bullying the sneezes into submission?

If he was being completely honest with himself, it was this: Steve didn’t deserve to hear them right now. It was possibly one of the pettiest things Eddie had ever thought, and he’d been plenty petty in his time. But right now, he wanted Steve to know how fucking pissed he was at him, even though it hurt to feel the same sentiment directed back at him. He had purposely twisted himself towards the passenger window as he sneezed, biting back the sound and hiding his face from Steve in entirety. He never thought he would be in a position where he didn’t want Steve’s roving eyes drinking in the visuals of his desperate pre-sneeze expression, but here he fucking was.

Eddie leaned his forehead against the window, eyes shut and jaw clenched. The cold glass against his skin felt wonderful, but it also made him shiver, confirming that he was indeed feverish. Just perfect. Wasn’t it enough that they would be missing the concert they’d been looking forward to for months, on top of fucking hating each other right now, without both of them being sick as a dog? He felt the threatening prickle of tears he’d been holding back for hours forming at the corner of his eyes, the final cherry on top of this shit sundae that was his day.

~~~~~~

Steve, for what it was worth, was feeling just as miserable as his boyfriend. Hell, he thought he probably felt worse – the guilt of ignoring Eddie’s warning about running low on gas burning like acid in the pit of his stomach. At the time, he probably even knew the older man was right; but he’d been so fucking angry with him already for fucking up their money that he’d barely listened to him. Admittedly, he’d been a grade A asshole ever since he woke up that morning, lurching forward with a throat-scraping sneeze, a nasty head cold already well settled in his sinuses. His prickly mood had practically invited friction with his sensitive boyfriend, who was also coming down with something himself.

He clenched the steering wheel with both hands and urged himself to calm down. The anger and frustration he’d been feeling almost nonstop for hours had left him shaking. Despite it all, despite how this was the angriest he had ever been with his boyfriend, he couldn’t help his almost pavlovian response to the older man’s irritated little sneezes. His traitorous dick throbbed against the tight confines of his levi’s. The fact that he couldn’t control his physical response just made him even angrier – it was a never-ending cycle of frustration that seemed to travel through him in an uncomfortable thrum. He hated feeling this way.

His sinuses buzzed and he reached up with a fist to rub at his nose, mashing it around so harshly he could hear the resounding wet squelching noises with each motion. He glanced at Eddie, finding him still slumped and motionless up against the passenger door, staunchly ignoring him. His turned back felt like a door closing in his face, the metalhead about as distant from Steve as he could possibly be whilst still sitting less than a few feet away from him. Eddie could be moody at times, but today was a whole new level of dramatics that Steve knew he had been the cause of. The sight of his boyfriend inching himself as far away from him as he physically could was incredibly painful, so Steve turned his gaze back to the steering wheel and tried to think.

They didn’t really have much of a choice either way – they would simply have to wait for someone to come by. He should’ve brought one of the walkie-talkies that had saved him countless times in his misadventures against Vecna, The Mindflayer, the Demodogs – but hindsight was 20/20 and perhaps given all the insane supernatural danger he’d been through, he’d neglected the very real possibility that the mundane could be dangerous too.

His head gave a sudden and sharp throb, wrenching him out of his thoughts as he cursed softly under his breath. He made a mental note to track down and kill the Family Video customer that had gifted him with this real sucker punch of a bug. The second the guy had walked in, eyes streaming and nose bright red, Steve should’ve hightailed it to the back of the store. But Robin was already off with another customer, and the guy beelined to the counter where Steve had been standing. He tried his best to smile welcomingly at him, pointedly looking anywhere other than his twitching pink nostrils.

The guy had asked Steve for recommendations on a date night movie, even as he took a damp wad of tissues from his pocket and pawed with it at his nose. Good luck with that date, buddy, Steve had thought whilst rattling off a list of romantic comedies that would fit the bill. He remembered that ‘Dirty Dancing’ had just come out on VHS, and the guy seemed to brighten at that idea, so Steve went to grab a copy for him. He handed it to the guy and hurriedly typed away at the computer, eager to get this dude and his germs out of the store.

He’d been so close, too, but as he turned to tell the poor guy to enjoy his movie, he’d been met with the sight of him sneezing, uncovered, down at his counter. To his credit, he seemed completely mortified, attempting to wipe the surface clean with an even dirtier tissue, but Steve had assured him through only slightly clenched teeth that it was okay, and to feel better. The man had all but sprinted through the door, and Steve set to sterilising the counter, disgust and arousal battling inside him at the realisation that the colossal sneeze had actually left visible droplets in its wake.

He should’ve known it would be his turn to get sick. It was January, and he’d made it all the way through December without so much as a sniffle, avoiding catching Robin’s cold earlier that month even after they’d cuddled their way through a movie marathon in her living room. It was practically unheard of that he would get through Winter without catching a cold. It was unheard of that he would only catch one. He had only hoped he could count on that good luck a little while longer, just long enough that he could enjoy the concert Eddie had been planning for months.

~~~~~~

Iron Maiden was not a band that Steve had cared to listen to, nor were horror movies something he cared to watch. Dating Eddie Munson meant that he didn’t really have all that much of a choice in the matter. Several months earlier, Eddie had convinced Steve to check out ‘Phenomena’ with him. The last film they’d watched together was ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’, which had quickly become one of Steve’s favourites – and despite his griping, he knew Eddie liked it, too – but he was well overdue a horror movie watch with his distinctly macabre boyfriend. It was totally worth it watching Eddie’s entire face light up, big brown eyes practically glittering with excitement, when Steve acquiesced.

“This one’s from Italy,” Eddie had told him enthusiastically as he pushed the VHS into the player, “But it’s supposed to have a totally metal soundtrack, and the director – you remember ‘Suspiria’, that movie with the ballerinas and witches?”

Steve had remembered, but it was less the witches that had terrified him than the dog suddenly ripping a guy’s entire throat out unprompted. He’d made Eddie escort him to and from the bathroom that night. He nodded.

“Well, that guy, Argento, he made this one, too!”

“Oh, goodie.”

Steve raised an arm against the offending cushion that Eddie flung down at him, the two wrestling briefly before settling in and focusing on the movie. Steve honestly found it horribly boring – it had that one girl from ‘Labyrinth’ in it, a movie Eddie and Robin gushed about regularly, but not much else was going on to keep him interested. In general, watching his boyfriend’s animated profile was much more entertaining.

It had been in a sudden chase scene, a young girl running from some unseen pursuer and towards a gruesome fate that ‘Flash of the Blade’ by Iron Maiden had started to play and Eddie had been head-banging rhythmically within seconds. He turned to Steve, completely and utterly ecstatic, child-like grin splitting his face, and Steve’s heart had been so full he’d been unable to do much more than smile dreamily at his boyfriend. When Eddie had eased up on the frantic fidgeting and belting out the lyrics alongside the movie, he’d snuggled up to him and breathed in the scent of his warm curls until he’d dozed off.

He’d woken up just before the movie had ended. A lake was burning or something like that. When Eddie had turned to him with a huge grin and asked him what his favourite part of the movie had been, Steve honestly answered “The part with the Iron Maiden song." Eddie beamed.

“You liked that song, Stevie?”

“Yeah, it was cool.” Steve answered, not entirely untruthfully. It was less the song itself – more that it animated Eddie in a way Steve would like to see every single day for the rest of his life.

“The lyrics are fuckin’ awesome, too – kind of like a D&D, intrepid knight kind of theme!”

“Totally.” Steve smiled at him.

“You know…The Maiden are coming to Indianapolis in January – I was gonna go with Corroded Coffin but they’re all busy that weekend, so – so what if we went, together? I know it’s not your thing, I totally get if you don’t wanna go, but-“

“I’ll go with you.”

Eddie looked so excited that Steve’s heart skipped a beat. Yes. More of that. Keep looking at me like that.

“Oh, fuck, are you serious, Stevie? Fuckin’ A, man! I need to get organised!”

~~~~~~~

And so, Steve had committed to the gig, nearly as excited as Eddie for their little trip up to Indy. It wasn’t often that they managed to get the time to spend more than their evenings together, even now that they finally had their own apartment. It had taken a great deal of planning, and it should have been perfect. But it had all gone to shit.

The first thing that went wrong, as noted before, was both of them waking up sick. They’d been grouchy, neither of them looking forward to the long drive ahead. Steve was resentful of the fact that he would be crammed in an arena jampacked with sweaty, drunken metal dudes, and Eddie was resentful of the fact that Steve was resentful. Steve hadn’t mean to put a damper on their mood, but he truly felt awful and couldn’t imagine a worse way to spend his evening. He would much rather stay bundled up in bed with his sick boyfriend, where they could look after each other and enjoy each other’s company in peace. Maybe when they felt a little better, they could really enjoy their mutual cold in a more…intimate fashion. But no. They’d committed with both time and money. Car journey and concert it was.

The second thing that had gone wrong, after a bumpy but still salvageable morning, was Eddie losing their food, medicine and other supplies that he had just bought at the first gas station they stopped at. They were good for water, a six pack of one litre bottles in the trunk, and they figured since they’d be grabbing dinner later that evening, a couple of sandwiches and snacks for the road would suit them fine. Steve had volunteered to head into the store, knowing how distracted his boyfriend could get, but Eddie had waved him off and insisted it’d be fine. When Eddie had strolled back to the car 20 minutes later, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, Steve had asked him if everything was okay.

“More than okay, dude.” Eddie had grinned at him, then opened his backpack to reveal a freshly purchased bag of weed.

“Where did you-?”

“Ran into a previous client in the store – he deals now, and he gave me an old chum’s discount.”

Steve pulled out of the parking lot, thinking to himself that smoking up later on might make the miserable experience of being sick at a concert more bearable than if he’d been sober. It was about 10 minutes later that through the brain fog he realised he hadn’t seen Eddie carrying any kind of purchase from the store, and hadn’t seen anything but weed in his backpack.

“Munson, you did – get us food and stuff, right?”

Eddie, who had been lazily leaning back in his seat and rubbing at his nose with the palm of his hand, suddenly shot upright.

“Shit. SHIT.”

Steve jumped a little.

“What, dude?! Are you okay?”

Eddie groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“I left the stuff behind the gas station – I put the bag down when I was getting the weed.”

Steve gaped at him before cursing under his breath. He looked for the nearest opportunity to turn round and swung the car back in the opposite direction.

“What are you doing, man?”

“We might still be able to find it. I mean, what the fuck, Eddie? Drug deals?? Right now?”

Steve could feel the anger bubbling up steadily, his regular patience almost non-existent. Eddie was more than willing to rise to the occasion.

“It’s not like I meant to lose our shit, okay? I just – you know, I forget things.”

“That’s why I offered to go in myself!”

“I’m not an infant, Harrington, I can function well enough to buy crap at a store.”

“Clearly fucking not?! You left our stuff and spent our money on pot – thanks for fucking asking, by the way - when we could have easily found something closer to the gig. Like seriously, man, not cool.”

“UGH, I didn’t mean to leave it! I got distracted and I just – it was a good deal and I thought it would help us mellow out. That it would help you mellow out.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean.”

“Steve…..you can’t honestly tell me you don’t know how much of a fucking asshole you’ve been to me today?”

“I’m not the asshole who prioritised a fucking drug deal over food and medicine!”

“Ohh my god, Steve! I bought our fucking food, I bought our fucking medicine, I just forgot it, okay?! I forgot to pick the bag up off the ground, heaven forbid a guy make a mistake every once in while!”

Steve could see that Eddie was visibly upset, and he knew he felt awful about forgetting their things. He was about to apologise for overreacting when he noticed Eddie freeze up once again, patting his pockets frantically and moaning.

“What. Eddie, what? What’s wrong now?”

“….Can’t find my wallet. I think I left it in the bag.”

Steve could have sworn he saw red. They’d put almost all of their money together in Eddie’s wallet, leaving just enough for hotel fees in Steve’s, a stupid fucking thing to do in hindsight but something that neither of them had assumed would fuck them in the ass later.

“I genuinely don’t know what to say to you. Oh my fucking god.”

Steve saw Eddie wince out of the corner of his eye, and he realised he had quite possibly never hated himself more than he did in that moment. He was acting just like his father, but he couldn’t seem to stop. The anger was so palpable he could hardly breathe.

They drove the rest of the way back to the store in silence. Eddie was yanking the passenger door open before the car had even come to a full stop, sprinting towards the back of the store. Steve watched as his boyfriend emerged from behind the building empty handed several moments later, taking in his devastated expression. He swore loudly before resting his head on the steering wheel, motionless as Eddie got back into the car.

“…I found a ten in my pocket, but we might need it for gas later on.” He heard Eddie mutter.

“We don’t. We need food and medicine more.”

“No, dude, we’re gonna need more gas.”

“And I’m telling you, we don’t. Come on, I’ll buy us stuff this time.”

Steve looked over at the older man and held his hand out expectantly for the money. The look Eddie shot his way was lethal. The metalhead slapped the bill into his palm.

“Knock yourself out, mom.”

Steve got out of the car.

“Rather be a mom than a brat.”

He slammed the door behind him.

~~~~~~

“Hh-HH! Heh’ENGXT’tchieww!! HDT’Tsiewww!! Eht’tchieww! Hh’ISSSH’ieww!!”

Eddie’s head rocked forward with the force of the fit, clutching the steering wheel like a lifeline. Luckily he hadn’t veered off course too much this time. He noticed suddenly that Steve had reached out to steady the wheel while he sneezed, and though the gesture was perfectly reasonable, he was already so angry with him that it just served to piss him off more than anything. He snuffled and elbowed Steve’s hand away.

“Dude, I got this. Leave it alone.”

Steve threw up his hands and rolled his eyes, a supremely immature gesture that made Eddie resent him all the more. It was a sickening feeling, being angry with Steve, and on top of his worsening cold Eddie didn’t know how much more he could take. He was angry at himself, as well. He felt stupid, so fucking stupid. Steve was right to be pissed at him for the colossal fuck-up he had managed to achieve – hell, we would be pissed at Steve had their roles been reversed.

What really fucking stung, though, was the disappointment and derision his boyfriend had directed his way. It was nasty and it wasn’t like anything he’d ever experienced before from the former jock, even when he really had been an asshole at school. He was normally such a sweetheart. He understood that Eddie could lose track of time, forget what he was doing in any given moment. It was part of what had made school so miserable – he had tried his best but it was like no matter how much he tried to focus, he just couldn’t. Like his brain was on constant overdrive. He thought Steve had accepted that about him, really understood him. But the way he’d looked at him when Eddie had messed up at the gas station, the tone of his voice – it hurt so badly he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He knew Steve was sick, and that made him sulky, but fuck, man.

He heard Steve gasp beside him. They’d both started sneezing in earnest a few hours ago, raging their way through the small box of tissues Steve had managed to buy for them alongside a bottle of Tylenol and a single sandwich that they had split. They were down to just a few tissues.

“HAAAEEESHHH’uuu!! HARRESHHHIEWW!! TISSSSH’ieww!!”

Eddie listened in vague appreciation to the rich vocal sound of Steve’s increasingly violent cold sneezes, wishing he didn’t hate him so much in that moment so he could enjoy them in full. He was concerned at the way they had Steve tumbling forward over his knees, jerking against the restraint of his seat belt. Any thought of them actually having a good time at this concert had all but vanished at this point, but to admit that out loud would be to admit defeat, and mean they’d put themselves through all this misery for fucking nothing.

Steve swiped the last two tissues from the box and blew his nose, a thick, crackling sound that betrayed just how congested he was becoming. Two wouldn’t be enough, Eddie knew, and his suspicions were confirmed when Steve rooted in his pocket to finish cleaning himself up with a used, balled-up tissue. Eddie sighed. He had a few bandanas in his backpack – he could offer one to Steve now, but he just couldn’t stand the thought of talking to him.

They drove for another 30 or so minutes before Eddie started to pull up to a gas station. Steve sat up and looked at him questioningly.

“Why are we stopping at a gas station?”

“To watch a fucking movie.”

“Eddie-“

“We’re fucking obviously getting gas, Steve - we’re not gonna last the rest of the drive.”

���With what money are you getting gas?”

Eddie glared at Steve, patience worn completely thin. God, the way he was talking to him like he was his fucking dad, or something. It was infuriating.

“We still have the money in your wallet – it would only cost a couple of bucks.”

“No, no – we worked it out, this is just enough for our hotel. We can’t show up short, they’d turn us away.”

“They’re not gonna get the chance to turn us away if we don’t even ghh-get th-there-hh!!”

Eddie scrubbed at his flaring nostrils in a desperate attempt to mollify the tickle, but luck was decidedly not on his side today.

“Ehh-!! EGXXXT’shiewww!! HAHDT’chieww!! IGSHHH!! HIGXT’shieww!! EHH’TSSCH’ieww!! Ahh…F-fuck…”

The sneezes were intense and incredibly wet, curling him over the steering wheel and forcing tears of irritation from his eyes. He felt Steve reach out to steady the wheel again, this time not fighting it. He was almost trembling in the aftermath of that fit, an unwelcome combination of pleasure and frustration prickling at his skin. He sniffled miserably.

“Bless you.”

He blushed in response to the blessing, neither of them having acknowledged each other’s sneezing for hours. Perhaps Steve had temporarily forgotten to be angry with him, given the dramatic scene he had just made. For the first time in their relationship, he cursed their shared fetish - it was making things increasingly complicated. He did not like the mixed signals his brain was sending him – ‘never talk to Steve ever again’ and ‘fuck Steve in the back seat right now’ were about as contradictory as could be, and the confusion only made him grumpier.

He continued to drive towards the gas station, about to pull in when Steve’s hand, still firmly wrapped round the wheel, twisted them away. Eddie yelped in surprise.

“Are you fucking insane, Harrington?! What are you doing?!”

“We don’t need gas, Munson. I told you already.”

Eddie could hardly believe what was happening. He had never known Steve to behave so – so childishly. It was fucking rich, considering the brat accusation Steve had hurled his way earlier that day. He smacked Steve’s hand away and continued onward past the gas station.

“Fine. If you fucking say so, King Steve.” He got a small kick of satisfaction watching Steve squirm in response, but otherwise saying nothing.

“We’re switching in 20 minutes.” Steve mumbled after a beat.

Eddie grunted in recognition. He wondered if Steve realised he wasn’t due to drive for another hour, but he was feeling far too petty and passive-aggressive to correct him.

~~~~~

Eddie was practically tearing his hair out. Some way, somehow, they had managed to get lost. Like, middle of nowhere, cornfields for days lost. Both of them had driven to Indianapolis before without a single issue. This had to be a curse. It just had to be.

The road map spread out over his knees made zero fucking sense – it didn’t help that Steve wouldn’t let him turn on the overhead light, and he was instead holding a torch with half-dead batteries casting a flickering beam over the endless configuration of road diagrams. He was starting to feel a little car sick for his efforts, taking short breaks to peer out of the window and find his bearings. The last of the Tylenol was doing fuck all for him, and he could not. Stop. Sneezing. Case in point, his breath started to hitch yet again.

“Heh-!!”

He fumbled in his pocket for his bandana, almost but not quite bringing it up to cover his mouth in time.

“ENGXTCH’tssieww!!”

The first sneeze burst out of him, pink nostrils flared wide in desperation, dousing the map in his lap with a cloud of spray. He muffled the next three into his bandana, gasping for breath when they finally subsided. This cold – this flu, perhaps – was absolutely kicking his ass. These sneezes gave him hardly any warning, taking on a life of their own and pitching him forward helplessly at their leisure. He blinked down at the map through bleary eyes, noticing to his chagrin that he had sneezed a veritable puddle all over Columbus and the surrounding terrain of about 20 miles. Luckily, not an area they should be anywhere near – though perhaps it couldn’t completely be written off given that they could literally be on god damn Mars as far as Eddie was concerned.

He abandoned the map, attempting to fold it neatly for all of 5 seconds before he was scrunching it up in anger and jamming it back into the glove box. Steve had stopped listening to his suggestions ages ago, anyway. He just kept driving down the endless expanse of the pitch black road, sneezing explosively every couple of minutes. Eddie was no longer glancing at his wristwatch, slowly resigning himself to the fact that they would, in fact, be missing the concert in its entirety. He would cry about it later when Steve couldn’t see. Right now, he was trying not to freak out about the fact that he could have sworn they had driven down this particular spread of infinite road before – not that it looked any different, the only visual markers being corn to the left, corn to the right, corn fucking everywhere.

It's not like this could get any worse.

It was as this traitorous thought flashed through Eddie’s mind that he heard Steve curse and pull the car to the side of the road, just as it sputtered miserably and abruptly stopped dead in its tracks.

~~~~~

They’d been sitting there in silence for at least 10 minutes before Steve started to shiver. It was well into the evening now and the lack of heating of any kind was really starting to get to him. His eyes had adjusted to the dark, at least – it wasn’t that bad, out here. The night sky was even brighter than Hawkins, brimming with the light of a billion stars. He remembered the night that Eddie had taken him up to Weathertop Hill and they’d stargazed for hours, never letting go of each other’s hands. The thought of it right now made his chest hurt. He was positive that Eddie would no longer want to be with him, not after today. In a sad way, he was already in a phase of pre-emptive acceptance – a form of self-protection where he convinced himself that the worst was bound to happen, so he may as well get ready for it. Robin told him he had low self-esteem, but he liked to think of it more as emotional pragmatism.

A sudden small hiccup of breath jolted Steve out of his ruminations. He peered over at his (probably soon to be ex) boyfriend’s back and noticed it was trembling. Another slightly louder gasp of breath graced the air and Steve realised with a sickly, sinking feeling that Eddie was crying. Eddie was crying because of him. Steve had felt pretty fucking awful about his behaviour in the past but nothing, nothing compared to how awful he felt in this moment. The pain in his chest seemed to pulse outwards and engulf him in its entirety.

“….Eddie? Baby?”

His voice sounded so fragile he even shocked himself. Eddie froze for a second before continuing to cry softly, giving Steve nothing in response. Steve noticed that the trembling had become full body shaking. He opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off by a fit of sneezes that came on so quickly he only managed to catch the last one in Eddie’s ruined shirt.

“HEEEISSSHHH!! AEEESHHUUU!! HH’TISHHHH!! MMP’TSCHHH!!”

He blushed, wishing not for the first time in his life that he was able to control the volume and force of his sneezing. He normally loved sharing this fetish with Eddie, but in this moment it couldn’t be more of an inconvenience. He blew his nose as quietly as possible, which was not at all, before reaching out a tentative hand to rest in the centre of the older man’s spasming back. He felt Eddie flinch, but he didn’t move away. Steve frowned at the heat emanating beneath his palm, sizzling hot even through the fabric of Eddie’s long-sleeve tee. It startled him, given that he was sure he already had an elevated temperature himself – shouldn’t Eddie feel normal to him? Was he that much warmer?

He felt Eddie’s back expand under his fingertips before the older man was suddenly jerking forward with a series of tightly stifled sneezes, the first five almost completely silent besides a soft squelching sound. Steve rubbed a small circle between Eddie’s shoulder blades in a way that he hoped would be soothing, biting his bottom lip hard as concern coursed through him. Eddie continued to sneeze, finally giving in and letting them loose, the persistent cold-induced tickle leaving him gasping helplessly.

“HIG’tchieww!! Engxt’TCHIEWW!! ‘TCHIEWW!! Eh’NGXT’Tschieww!! Nnn….”

He’d thoroughly sprayed his palm with the fit, which he then wiped shakily on his thigh. Steve heard him sniffle thickly before drooping back against the windowpane. He leaned forward in his seat and placed his other hand on Eddie’s left shoulder.

“Eddie? Are you okay, honey?”

He heard Eddie mumble incoherently before a rumbling cough had him pitching forward again, muscles spasming under Steve’s palm with the effort. Steve cursed and rubbed his back through it. When Eddie’s breath evened out again, Steve used the hand on his shoulder to gently push him back into his seat. The metalhead still wouldn’t look at him, eyes stubbornly fixed to the right, but Steve barely noticed. He took in Eddie’s pale, tear-stained face, the heavy circles under his eyes, his painfully red nose which was leaking down to his lips. He looked pallid, and so, so unwell. His cheeks had little spots of colour on them, a sure sign of fever. Steve felt his heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Ohh, Eds….”

He choked out a sob. It was too much. He hadn’t cried since the aftermath of their stint with Vecna, alone in Robin’s bathroom - and even that had been measured, controlled. He didn’t cry. Harringtons don’t cry. But all the same, here he was, bawling like a little kid. He felt sick, he felt like an asshole, they were lost and cold and hungry and tired and it felt like the end of the world so he just cried and cried and cried.

~~~~~

Eddie had intended to ignore Steve to his final breath. He was too weak to resist as the younger man pushed him back in his seat and out of the passive-aggressive contortion he had worked himself into against the car door. That last fit of sneezes had left his head swimming, and he was honestly grateful for the comfortable upholstery of his boyfriend’s BMW. Even as angry as he was, the warmth and weight of Steve’s hand on his back had been, for a moment, the most reassuring feeling in the world. But Steve didn’t need to know that. Steve could damn well wait until he was ready to forgive him.

But then Steve started crying.

Eddie spun round, eyes fixing firmly on Steve’s crumpled expression. It was terrifying, like seeing a parent or teacher or other unshakeable adult cry for the first time and realising they’re just an overgrown kid themself. His boyfriend looked so vulnerable, so lost, so unbelievably sad that Eddie found that he burst into tears as well. His strong, powerful boyfriend, the same man who had leapt headfirst into a lake in pitch darkness, who had ripped a demon bat monster in two with his bare hands, who had faced paranormal monsters to protect his friends countless times – that man, his Stevie, was crying like a little boy who’d lost his mommy in a supermarket. And it was all his fault.

He reached up and squeezed the hand on his shoulder.

“Stevie…Please don’t cry, Steve, please! It’s ok! We’re ok!”

He was sobbing almost as hard as Steve, ignoring the way the pounding in head was swelling to an almost unbearable throb. He leaned his body awkwardly over into Steve’s seat and wrapped his arms around him in a fierce hug. Fighting be damned, this entire fucking nightmare of a day be damned. He just wanted Steve to stop crying like the world was ending before he actually died of a broken heart.

“Eddie-!! I’m s-sorry-!” Steve choked out where he had buried his face against his shoulder, fingers digging fiercely into Eddie’s back. Eddie shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Stevie – I fucked it up! I always fuck things up!”

Admitting it out loud sent a new wave of sadness rushing through him and he cried harder, squeezing Steve tight.

“Y-you don’t-! You’re not-! It was m-my fault, I was just….awful to you! You didn’t do anything wrong, I fucked it up-!”

Steve sounded close to hyperventilating, so Eddie willed himself to calm down for the both of them. He shushed him gently, stroking his hair and holding his body close as it was wracked with gasping sobs. He’d been such a petty tool, trying to punish Steve with his silence. Steve had been right before – he was a brat, at least he had been today, and he needed to fucking grow up.

“Shh, honey….it’s ok, we were both being fucking assholes. We are fucking assholes, and that’s why we work so well together. We’re soul holes!!”

Steve snorted a brief laugh between sobs and Eddie felt the icy fingertips of dread loosen slightly from where they’d been squeezing his temples in a death grip. He could fix this. As long as they could love each other, everything else was insignificant. They would be okay.

He continued to hold Steve, ignoring the way his back was starting to protest at the angle he was holding himself at. The younger man was starting to calm down, occasional hiccupping breaths shaking him but otherwise slowing his crying. Eddie pressed small kisses to his hair, conscious of his runny nose and trying his best to angle himself in a way he wouldn’t make a total mess of the expertly crafted style Steve was so proud of.

He felt Steve tense in his grip, and started to ask what was wrong when Steve rocked forward against the protective cover of his shoulder and sneezed violently.

“HEHH’MPPTSXHH!! MPP’TSCHIEWW!!! MPPPTSCHHH!!!”

Eddie’s breath hitched, blood rushing south as he felt every shiver, every contraction of Steve’s muscular body in his arms. The sensation of his pointed nose pressing insistently up against his shoulder and the sheer volume of each sneeze so close to his ear had him reeling. They’d been particularly high-pitched for the former jock, making Eddie think he must have had a particularly irritating tickle in his nose. He moaned softly and stroked Steve’s back.

“Bless you, honey. Poor baby,” he sighed, noting that Steve hadn’t made any action to extract his face from where it remained pressed firmly up against him. He could feel the moistened fabric clinging to his skin.

“Did you make a mess, sweetheart?”

“….Ymmf.”

Eddie took that as a ‘yes’.

He gently sat back in his seat, extricating himself from Steve and watching as his boyfriend’s flushed, dripping face came into sight. A thick strand of mess hung between Steve’s left nostril and the damp patch on Eddie’s shirt. Steve scrambled for the shirt in his lap, gingerly wiping the mess away on Eddie’s shoulder and severing the connection before bringing it up to his own nose. His eyes were puffy and sore as he peered up at Eddie, blushing behind the bundle of fabric pressed to his face.

Eddie reached out and squeezed Steve’s thigh. A sudden sharp pain speared through his skull and he audibly groaned, pressing his head back against his seat. Steve took his hand in his own. They sat for a moment, not talking, but for the first time that day the silence was comfortable.

~~~~~

Steve’s head throbbed in the aftermath of what had to be one of the most intense cries of his life. It wasn’t something he wanted to experience in any regular capacity. He was also terribly embarrassed, even though it was just Eddie who had seen him. Robin was constantly reminding him that it was healthy to accept when you needed help, or to recognise when you were approaching your limit. Some metaphor about a pot boiling over that had just made Steve’s mind wander to the food he had planned to cook for when the kids came round to his apartment later that week. The point being, he should definitely work on his listening skills and Robin was right. Again.

He could feel Eddie shaking as he held his palm in his own. The older man was leaning back into his seat with a pained expression plastered to his face. Steve cleared his throat.

“So….”

Eddie squeezed his hand.

“Yeah, Big Boy?”

“On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being ‘this is a total downer’ and 10 being ‘I would like to request some assistance in dying’, where are you at right now?”

He heard Eddie chuckle before moaning softly.

“About a gazillion. I feel….really fucking bad, Stevie.”

Steve turned his head to take in the older man’s appearance once more. He was deathly pale, looking even worse than he had just 10 minutes earlier. Steve tried not to panic.

“You look awful, Eds…” he cooed.

Eddie cracked a crooked smile at him.

“You sure know how to make a guy f-feel…special-hh’HH!! ENGXT’Chieww!! HDDT’chieww!! IGSHHH’ieww!! Hhh’HDT’chieww-IGT’chieww-ICKKSHH!! Ohhh, Jesus…”

Steve was unable to make out the spray in the dark, but he could hear just how wet and sickly each sneeze sounded. His cock throbbed in his jeans, unbelievably still as interested in Eddie’s impressive displays of sensitivity as ever. Eddie snuffled thickly and Steve held out the soiled shirt to him. Eddie took it and blew his nose on a dry spot, of which there were now exceedingly few. Steve rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of Eddie’s hand. His boyfriend groaned before speaking again.

“Ugh, I can’t fucking stop. This has to be some new kind of super plague.”

“Well, it’s no walk in the park, that’s for sure.”

He felt Eddie squeeze his hand.

“What about you? Scale of 1 to 10?”

Steve paused, doing a quick mental scan of his general wellbeing. He felt like ass.

“…A billion, maybe? Not as bad as you.”

Eddie scoffed.

“You’ve gotta be feeling pretty bad to cry like that.”

Steve bristled, embarrassment pulsing through him.

“I-!! You were-! I just-!”

“Woahhh, dude, it’s okay – I’m not mocking you, or anything. I was cryin’ too. Before you even started. It’s no big deal, Stevie. I just know it’s not something you do very often – or, at all, actually?”

Steve sighed.

“Yeah. You know – you know my dad. How he feels about – vulnerability, or whatever.”

“Yeah.”

Steve felt the ever-present tickle in his sinuses flicker to life, suddenly and with little warning. He pitched forward with another round of messy cold sneezes.

“HH’RIISHHHH!! HAARRRESHEWW!! ITSSCHHHH!!”

“Engxt’chiew!! Hh!! HIG’Tchieww!! Ingxt’chieww!! ENGXT’TCHIEWWW!!”

Steve and Eddie made eye contact at the same time, sheepishly turning to look at one another behind their protective barriers of choice – Steve’s hands, steepled to his face, and Eddie’s elbow, which he gripped steadily with his other arm. They burst into laughter, stopping only when Steve buckled forward with a coughing fit, Eddie whacking him on the back as he proceeded to sputter and choke. He finally leant back, wiping the spittle from his lips.

“What the actual fuck is our life right now, dude.”

“You know? I think it’s actually pretty on brand for us, man.”

Steve shot a sardonic glance his way.

“Elaborate.”

“Just, you know – the first time I really spoke to you outside of the occasional encounter at school? I was literally on the run, a god damn murder suspect. We fought demon monsters in an alternate dimension. I figured out you liked me because we have this fucking obscure fetish and you kept popping boners all allergy season.”

Steve groaned.

“Shut upppp…”

Eddie didn’t shut up.

 “What I mean, is this: we’ve never done anything in an even remotely conventional fashion. I think I may genuinely be allergic to conformity. What’s another allergy to me?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I am. We are. It’s fitting that our first real fight be such a huge, dramatic affair that ends with us freezing to death on the side of a country road. Poetic, some might say.”

“We’re not going to die out here, man. Somebody’ll come by.”

Even as Steve said it, he was doubtful. They’d been driving alone for hours before the car had stopped and nothing had come from either direction since. More worryingly, though, was the fact that he could now see his own breath, and Eddie’s teeth were starting to chatter. He fiddled with the ring on Eddie’s index finger.

“Let’s get in the backseat, share some body heat, okay?”

He watched Eddie nod briskly, face scrunching up.

“Okay. Want to hold you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. It’s okay though, remember? It’s okay.”

~~~~~~

Twenty minutes later and the two were bundled up in the backseat of Steve’s car. They’d at least remembered to bring coats with them, but otherwise assumed due to the heat of the venue and the quick turn around from car to hotel to venue to car, they wouldn’t need such heavy padding. Luckily, Steve found an old blanket in the trunk from the last time they’d gone on a picnic, which was now firmly secured around them. Eddie complained the blanket was too scratchy, but Steve had replied that there was no way he could tell through his thick Winter parka. Eddie had eventually conceded.

Steve had wedged himself against the car door, the hood of his thick coat offering some cushioning. Eddie was lying in his arms, his back up against Steve’s chest, head resting on his shoulder. They nestled into each other, desperately seeking each other’s warmth. Eddie felt like a furnace to Steve – which, given the circumstances, was not unwelcome, but it worried him to no end that the long-haired man continued to shiver in his arms despite their combined heat.

They had retired Eddie’s Black Sabbath shirt as an honorary snot rag, moving on to Steve’s extra polo shirt as their new makeshift tissue. It was currently pressed up against Eddie’s face as he shook with yet another sneezing fit.

“ENGXT’tchieww!! HDDT’tchieww!! TSCH’ieww!! HAGT’TSCHIEWWW!!! Uhgg…”

He snuffled thickly, settling back against the younger man. Steve’s cock was hard, pressed up as it was against Eddie’s lower back. He loved being able to experience every tremor, every jerk that travelled through his poor love’s body as the sneezes rocked him back and forth. He knew Eddie could feel how excited he was, but they both ignored it.

The metalhead had suggested fooling around to keep them warm, and Steve had even entertained the idea, thinking he could maybe get past the tight band of tension squeezing at his temples. An orgasm might even lessen the discomfort. But then Eddie had all but swooned to the gravelly earth the second he attempted to get out of the car, and Steve had nipped that idea in the bud almost instantly. He sprinted over to his boyfriend and helped him to his feet – slowly, since that sprint had left his head swimming and black spots dancing before his eyes. He’d deposited Eddie in the backseat, grabbed the blanket, and arranged them as best he could.

Eddie had wanted to be the big spoon, but Steve had flat out refused, stating that he didn’t want to be responsible for squashing the older man to death in his weakened state. He had at least 20 pounds on him and the pressure of his solid musculature pressing the dungeon master up against the door was a surefire way to suffocate him. Eddie had argued that Steve was faring no better than he in the oxygen department, pointing out that he was still winded by the tumultuous journey from trunk to backseat. Steve told him to bite him. Eddie reached out and nibbled on his forearm.

So here they were, mercifully settled at last. Or, as settled as they could be, given that they were frequently curled upwards or jostled backwards by their damn near constant sneezing. As Eddie scrubbed his itchy nostrils against the fabric of the shirt, Steve pressed kisses to his fuzzy curls.

“Bless you, baby. That was a big one, at the end.”

“Mmm. They’re conspiring to kill me.”

Steve snorted.

“’They’? Your sneezes?”

“Absolutely. Always been out to get me, but now they’ve finally decided to put me out of my misery.”

“So dramatic.”

Eddie fidgeted in Steve’s arms, trying to realign himself to the choice position he had been in before his cold had so rudely uprooted him. Steve bit his lip as Eddie rubbed up against his cock, holding back a moan. The older man seemed to find a position he was happy with and went boneless against Steve, letting out a tiny little mewl of satisfaction. Steve tightened his arms around him, an overwhelming wave of affection urging him to draw his boyfriend closer to him.

“You’re so cute, Munson.”

“I know. Now tell me I’m pretty.”

“You’re so pretty.”

“Flatterer. Keep it coming.”

“You’re s-so-! Ohh, gonna-!! HH’HEH!!”

Eddie lifted the shirt in his grasp, angling it back over his shoulder. Steve frantically pressed his face into the folds, inhaled deeply enough to lift Eddie up an inch or two, and sneezed forcefully.

“HRRRRSHH’MPH!! TISHHHHH!! HAEEESHHH!! HEH-!! HEYYYESSSHEWWW!!!”

He groaned in the aftermath, head pounding. Eddie was right, this did feel like some kind of super plague. He was sneezing every couple of minutes or so like clockwork, and every fit seemed to wipe him out as if he’d finished running a marathon. He panted into the cloth for a moment longer, feeling his boyfriend clumsily wipe his nose and mouth as best he could from the awkward angle. He nodded, signalling it was ok for Eddie to lower the shirt. He felt the older man squirm slightly, curls brushing against his face as he angled himself back to press a soft kiss to his jaw.

“God bless you, Stevie. Such a tickle.”

Steve blushed at the attention, his cock giving an appreciative throb in his jeans. He once again entertained the idea of fucking in the backseat, was about to vocalise this when Eddie hissed in pain, head pushing back and digging into Steve’s shoulder. He could see the grimace on the older man’s face.

“Baby?”

Eddie didn’t answer, riding out what Steve knew to be another round of deep throbs in his skull. Brow furrowed in concern, he stroked an arm gently up and down his boyfriend’s side as the dungeon master strained against him. His erection was flagging, momentarily catching up to the seriousness and decided unsexiness of the situation they were in. The older man finally seemed to relax, a shaky exhale leaving him. Steve nuzzled his face down into his curls.

“Feel so bad, Stevie…gettin’ worse…”

Eddie was panting slightly, the small puffs of exhalation visible in the frigid air.

“I’m sorry, honey.”

He didn’t know what else to say. He could feel his own body starting to ache, head swimming with fever. It’d only been an hour since their car had died, but they’d gotten so much sicker in that time that Steve was starting to worry in earnest. He didn’t think they would die, nothing quite so dramatic as that, but they would need more water soon at the pace they were needily gulping it down, and he was worried about Eddie’s fever. If Robin were there – god, how he wished she was – she’d tell him to worry about himself as well, before rattling off about a billion different contradictory fever reduction techniques. He smiled at the thought of her, his partner in crime, feeling slightly better for picturing her face.

He reached for a bottle of water and took a long drink before offering it to Eddie, forcing him to drink as well. When they were finished, he snuggled down again into his boyfriend’s curls.

“We’ll be okay, Munson. We survived the Upside Down, we can survive rural Indiana.”

~~~~~

Eddie had no idea how long it had been by the time he heard the familiar rumbling of an approaching vehicle through the foggy haze of his fever. He and Steve were in a state of persistent half-consciousness. They would both be right on the brink of sleep when one of them would succumb to a tickle in their nose, shaking them both to full wakefulness. It had gotten progressively less jarring after the fiftieth time; it almost felt routine.

The metalhead could feel Steve’s cock, half-hard, pressing up against him. He ought to be surprised his boyfriend could still feel arousal given their less than stellar circumstances, but then he would absolutely be the proverbial kettle calling the pot black. His own erection would come and go with every fit of sneezes from either himself or his boyfriend, making him feel like a horny middle schooler. He was almost glad he was too sick to be embarrassed about it. Almost.

He had just finished mumbling a blessing to Steve, his boyfriend having sprayed down the front of his coat with a fierce triple, when the unmistakeable crunch of tires on gravel perked him up faster than an espresso shot.

“Steve? Steve! I think there’s a car – no, yeah, there’s a fucking car, man!”

“Holy shit!”

He felt Steve start and attempted to shuffle off him, but found himself flopping helplessly backwards, entirely winded by the effort.

“Ugh, sorry…”

Steve gently rocked him forward and quickly arranged him so that he was sitting up in his seat, before kissing his cheek and scrambling onto the road.

“Be careful-!” Eddie shouted, immediately regretting raising his voice as he doubled over with a hacking cough. He brought the nearby water bottle to his lips with shaking hands and took a generous swig, gasping. He could make out the headlights of a van pulling up behind them, then the rumbles of a conversation. Alongside Steve’s voice, a rougher, deeper voice registered. A man, then. He swallowed the fear that this guy might clock them as a couple of queers – or maybe he was a serial killer? They were screwed either way. He closed his eyes and listened. No shouting, just a gentle back and forth. He heard Steve sneeze, then the other man chuckle. It was a friendly sound. He relaxed a little.

He started slightly at the sound of the door beside him opening, looking up to see Steve leaning over him.

“Hey, Eds. Great news, this guy – Leonard – he’s heading straight to Indianapolis. Before you ask, don’t worry, I saw his ID. He’s delivering deckchairs, or something? Anyway - he’s got some gas for the car, but when I told him we were sick he said we could ride in the back of his truck and he’d tow us the rest of the way.”

Eddie smiled softly, happy to see Steve looking a little more animated, even if he did look like death warmed up. The eye bags he was sporting made his droopy brown eyes look even lazier than usual. It was worrying, but still cute. Steve held out a hand and helped him climb out of the car. He felt shaky on his legs, like a baby deer. Glancing over Steve’s shoulder he spotted a jovial, middle-aged man approaching with a tow rope. He was sporting a flannel shirt over a pendulous beer belly, peaked cap on his head and a huge copper beard engulfing his face. He looked rough, but his eyes were kind and his smile was soothing.

“You must be Eddie!” Leonard said, walking over to them. He frowned a little as he took in the sight of the two of them up close. “Christ, boys, you look just about dead on your feet! Pardon me sayin’.”

Eddie huffed a small laugh.

“No, you’re right. We’ve been…better.”

Leonard smiled at him, looking paternal and endeared. Eddie liked the guy already – he sort of reminded him of Wayne, albeit a much more chipper Wayne.

“Well, don’t you worry. You and Steve just hop on in the back of the ol’ dream machine and I’ll take you far as you need to go. Y’all said you’re heading to Indy?”

“That was the plan.” Steve confirmed, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible.

“Great – like I said, I’m heading straight over there, but if you’d prefer, I know a decent little motel just outside city limits that’ll have some vacancies?”

“That would be great,” Eddie almost moaned, thinking that even the grubbiest motel mattress in the world would be heaven right about now.

“Sure thing, sure thing. Well, we should be there in less than hour, give or take.”

“Um, Leonard? I meant to ask but – where exactly are we?” Steve asked.

“Just outside of Rushville.”

Eddie and Steve gaped. They’d somehow managed to clear straight past Indianapolis altogether and keep on south. Their faces must have successfully conveyed their almost comical shock, as Leonard bellowed out a rumbling laugh.

“You boys really got the short end of the stick today, huh? Come on, get your asses in the truck – I’ll finish up here and we can get on the road.”

“Thank you, Leonard, really – this is – we were really in a rough place-“ Steve started.

“Don’t you worry, now. Go on, get – there are tissues in the back. I get hayfever something fierce come Spring.”

Eddie watched Steve nod before his strong arm was wrapped around his waist, supporting the metalhead as he walked them both to the Truck in question. They had to pause briefly for Eddie to sneeze, a helpless little fit of six partially stifled paroxysms. Leonard offered a cheery blessing from where he was securing their car, and Eddie blushed. It was going to be a long hour.

~~~~

Steve woke up, slowly, pulled out of sleep first by the slow halt of the truck and then the gentle rumble of Leonard’s voice.

“Boys? We’re here. Rise and shine, now.”

Steve blinked open his eyes, taking in Leonard’s kind expression as he leaned back over his shoulder to look at them. The former jock was aware of the weight of Eddie’s head on his shoulder, and with a sudden icy rush of panic moved to gently push him away. It wasn’t that he thought Leonard would do anything to them, per se, but they needed to be careful. Eddie already attracted so much attention, not that Steve would change anything about him for the world – but still.

Eddie groaned and sat up gradually, squashing his fists up against his eyes and moving them in slow circles. Steve noticed that his boyfriend had left a little pool of saliva – or was it snot – where he’d been resting on his shoulder. They’d both fallen asleep within minutes, the blessed heating of Leonard’s dream machine wrapping warmth around them like the plushest of blankets. Steve was relieved, having been prepared for the embarrassing scenario in which he and Eddie sneezed nonstop all over the inside of the poor man’s vehicle for 50 minutes straight. He was already extremely grateful and a little shocked that Leonard had taken in the sight of their painfully obvious illness and let them ride with him in the first place.

“You boys went out like a light. Sure is nice to be young, huh?”

Steve felt Eddie jump beside him, and realised the older man had temporarily forgotten where he was. He patted him on the shoulder before turning back to Leonard.

“I’m so sorry we just passed out on you, sir. We didn’t make for good company at all.”

“Don’t you worry about that, son. You looked like you needed a decent night’s sleep. Speaking of, you should be able to get some more shut-eye at this little establishment. ‘Rita’s Motel’ – sure, it’s not the Ritz, by any means, but she’s served me well.”

Steve unbuckled his seat belt and leaned forward to look past Leonard at the small building in front of them. The motel was like any other, perhaps slightly homelier than most.

“Thank you, Leonard, for everything. I, uh, I really want to pay you back, but – we’re running low on cash, probably just enough for a night here, and-“

“I won’t hear it, Steve. You boys are clearly in a pinch. Not a single penny will I take. Now, come on, let’s get you inside. I’ll fill up the car while you sign in, then I’ll be on my way.”

Steve mumbled his thanks, over and over, feeling and sounding like he was about to burst into tears at any moment. The relief was overwhelming. Leonard slapped a broad palm down on his shoulder and chuckled, assuring him it was nothing. They were interrupted by a sudden burst of sneezes behind them. Steve turned and watched Eddie catch another three exceptionally loud and sickly sounding sneezes in his upraised hands.

“ENGGXXXTCHHH!!! IGXXT’SHIEWW!! Hahh’ENGXT’Tchiewww!!”

Steve’s heart lurched in his chest. He willed his cock to calm down; the last thing he wanted or needed in this very moment was to shield a mighty erection from their kind-hearted saviour. Eddie snuffled, the sound thick and incredibly messy. The older man blushed deeply behind his hands as he noticed both pairs of eyes trained on him – if he hadn’t been fully awake before, he sure was now.

“Good god, bless you!” Leonard exclaimed.

Eddie blushed an even darker shade of red, mumbling his thanks and frantically searching for something to clean himself up with, or perhaps a hole to go die in. Steve reached back beside Eddie and grabbed the almost full box of tissues Leonard had mentioned earlier. Eddie hesitated for a moment, and both Leonard and Steve seemed to realise his situation as he made no move to shift his hands from their steepled position over his face. They turned around to give the metalhead some privacy, Leonard making his way out of the truck and offering Steve a hand down out of the side door, having climbed over the seat to follow him.

“You take those tissues with you,” Leonard directed at Eddie as he opened up the exterior door for him to climb out. “Won’t be needing them for a while, anyways!”

Steve reached out to steady his boyfriend by the elbow, supporting him as he jumped down from the truck on shaky legs. True to his word, Leonard escorted them inside the antiquated reception area and got to talking with the small owlish looking woman behind the desk. Steve quickly realised this was the titular Rita, and that she was just as friendly and parental as the trucker.

“Oh, you poor things!” She cried, taking in the sight of the two of them, shivering pathetically behind Leonard’s great bulk. Both of them blushed to their ears – the attention was nice, but more than a little overwhelming.

Within minutes, Rita had signed them in and handed over the keys to their room. She had given them a discount, the cost far cheaper than Steve had been expecting. He wondered if it had anything to do with the violent triple of sneezes he had pathetically muffled into a balled up tissue as he gave her his details.  Maternal to her core, she had even thrust a bottle of Tylenol and another of cold medicine their way, free of charge from the little supply she kept on hand. It felt like the universe was righting itself for all the bad luck they’d suffered that day, putting such kind and generous people in their path. Eddie tried to offer the left-over money to Leonard when he came back in from topping up their car, but he refused.

“You boys take care, now. You need anything, you go to Rita, okay? You’ll help these kids out, won’t you, old girl?”

“I don’t know this ‘old girl’ you’re referring to, Len, but I will certainly be here if you need me, boys.”

Leonard gently slapped them both on the back before saying his goodbyes, and then Rita was leading them to their room. Eddie and Steve thanked her and closed the door behind her. They wordlessly shucked off their coats, climbed into the double bed, and were asleep in seconds.

~~~~~~

“Hello?”

“Uncle Wayne?”

Wayne paused for a moment, recognising his nephew’s voice but taken aback by how worse for wear he sounded.

“You okay, son? What’re you doin’ callin’ me at 6 in the morning? I thought you’d be out all night at that concert.”

He heard Eddie sigh deeply before the unmistakable sound of him smothering a fit of coughs crackled down the line. Worry spread through his chest, that old paternal panic gripping him.

“Eddie?”

“Y-yeah, sorry. Actually, we, um? We didn’t make it. We got lost. And then we ran out of gas. In the middle of nowhere. And we’re both down with the fucking plague. So. I’m at a motel right now, a couple of miles outside of Indianapolis. We stayed here last night.”

Wayne blinked at the sudden overload of information. When he’d registered everything Eddie had told him, he sighed wearily.

“How in the hell did you and Steve manage to pull that off?” He light-heartedly jabbed.

“Ughh, I don’t know. We were fighting, like, all day, Wayne. We’re okay now but it was just awful. And so fucking stupid.”

Wayne sighed again.

“Well, as long as you’re okay. Situations like this are the kind of thing that make or break a couple, so if you’re both doing just fine now, I’d say you have successfully navigated your way to the next stage of your relationship.”

“You think so?”

Wayne smiled. Eddie seemed to have perked right up at that, just as intended.

“I do. Now, what do you need me for, you menace?”

~~~~~~

“HHHR’RRISHHH’IEW!! HRRRSHHCH’UU!! AESSSHHUUU!!!”

“Oh my god, Stevie. Bless you, angel!”

“Mmn. Thank you.”

Eddie closed the door behind him, shivering as he came inside from his trip to the payphone. Rita’s Motel had comfortable mattresses but was alarmingly lacking in working telephones. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his coat, unceremoniously dumping it on the floor, before stripping off the rest of his clothes. He took in the sight of Steve bundled up in bed, looking painfully adorable with his messy hair and little red nose, before climbing in beside him. He nuzzled up to him, rubbing his cold nose up against Steve’s.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How’re you feeling, big boy?”

“Like shit, still, but better. The cold medicine worked. Headache’s gone.” Steve pressed a small kiss to his lips. “What about you?”

Eddie kissed him back.

“Compared to last night? Waaay better, man.”

Steve furrowed his brow and reach out to press the back of his hand to his boyfriend’s forehead.

“You’re still really warm, but not quite so bad. I was really worried about you, honey.”

Eddie closed his eyes, pushing his thigh between Steve’s legs and bringing the younger man’s hand down from his forehead to clutch it against his chest.

“Worried about you too, baby.”

They lay there for a couple of minutes in comfortable silence before Steve spoke up.

“Did you get through to Wayne?”

“Oh yeah, shit. Sorry. Yeah. He’s coming through with Hopper later. Should get here around mid-day, he thinks.”

Steve blinked at him.

“Hopper’s coming? Why?”

“He said he owed him one. Hopper’ll come down with Wayne, then he’ll drive your car back up while we die a slow, miserable death in the back of Wayne’s car.”

“Oh…”

“Why even call Wayne to come down in the first place if we have a car full of gas, y’know? He just didn’t want us to drive, and towing the car would be a huge pain in the ass.”

“Right. Sorry. Took me a moment.”

Eddie leaned forward and kissed Steve right on the tip of his nose.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re sick.”

Steve’s nose wrinkled up at the teasing touch of Eddie’s lips against the sensitive skin.

“Eddie, Mm’gonna…gonna snee-!”

“Don’t hold back, baby. Let it out for me.”

Steve obeyed, taking in a final gasping breath, chest swelling to capacity, before sneezing unhindered onto his boyfriend’s face.

“HAAARESHHIIIEWW!! AEESHHHUUUU!! GITSCHHH’EWW!! TISSSSCHH’IEWW!!”

Eddie moaned in appreciation at the sensation of spray drenching his features, eyes closing reflexively against the force of it. Steve’s sneezes were already so loud and cock-teasingly desperate on a regular day, but the never-ending tickle his cold had inflicted upon him made them even more powerful. Within moments, Eddie was almost completely hard, the sudden rush of blood to his cock leaving him more than a little dizzy.

“Fuuuck, baby! Such big sneezes. Bless you.”

~~~~

Steve reached for a tissue from the box lying between them – Rita had gifted them with another several alongside Leonard’s gracious offering – and gently wiped the spray from his boyfriend’s face, blushing slightly to see droplets starting to roll their way across Eddie’s cheeks to the pillowcase.

“Damn, those were big!”

“Mmhmm. Just how I like them. You’re so gorgeous when you have a tickle, Stevie.”

Steve reached down between Eddie’s legs, smirking at the gasp the older man choked out as he gave his cock a teasing squeeze.

“You really are feeling better, huh?” He started to pump the length, long, slow strokes that squeezed the head of Eddie’s cock before making their way back down.

“Fuckk, Steve-!”

“Is that good, baby?”

“So good, always so good, holy shit-!”

Eddie bucked involuntarily in his grasp at a particularly hard squeeze to the base of his cock. Steve’s breath stuttered, feeling Eddie’s thigh press up against his own budding erection as his body jerked against him. Moaning, he pressed their foreheads together.

“You wanna get off with me, Munson?”

Eddie laughed breathily.

“Is the pope a catholic?”

“Ugh, don’t make me think about God right now, man.”

“Why? I’m right here.” Eddie grinned at him, looking far too pleased with himself. The cocky expression was somewhat weakened by his miserable complexion and swollen pink nose.

Steve wanted to think of a witty retort, but any thoughts of meeting Eddie with some cleverly formulated response vanished the second he felt his boyfriend’s sweaty palm wrapping around his cock and jerking it with several fast, hard pulls.

“Ohh, yeah,” He moaned, losing himself in the sensation, eyes fluttering shut and teeth biting down on his bottom lip. He was already embarrassingly close. His own hand faltered only temporarily before returning to stroking his boyfriend in earnest. Eddie pushed his thigh up harder between Steve’s legs, and he gasped.

“Mm, you like that, big boy?” Eddie moaned, mouthing at Steve’s lips. Steve closed the space between them and kissed him, both groaning as Eddie sucked hard on Steve’s tongue. They couldn’t keep it up much longer, though, noses far too stuffed up. It didn’t matter; they exchanged small kisses again and again, hands working each other in the ways they knew they liked best.

Steve peered down his nose at Eddie, his boyfriend’s face a rictus of concentrated pleasure, eyelashes fluttering  above blushing cheeks as he panted and moaned. He looked so good like this; Steve felt himself lurch even closer to orgasm. He pictured the older man sneezing messily, an endless fit on loop for him in his mind, even as he stared at Eddie’s nose just at the end of his own. His nostrils would flare every now and then, in pleasure rather than in response to a burgeoning tickle. The subtle movements were such a tease – Steve wanted to watch those poor pink nostrils flare to capacity as Eddie built to a powerful sneezing fit. He cock throbbed against his boyfriend’s fingers.

Mind made up, Steve pushed their noses together and rubbed them back and forth. Eddie glanced down at them, slightly bewildered and looking temporarily cross-eyed. It was so cute – Steve chuckled under his breath, all the while continuing to rub his nose against Eddie’s, hoping to coax a sneeze (or five) out of him. He felt Eddie’s nostrils flaring wildly as he rubbed his nose down the side of the metalhead’s twitching appendage. His own nostrils flared minutely in a sort of sympathy twitch.

“Hh-HH!! Ohh, Stevie, s’gonna make me – make me-!!”

Steve groaned, just about managing to hold back from coming at his boyfriend’s words. He loved that Eddie played up every tickle for his pleasure, knew just what to say to work him all the way up. He nuzzled their noses together, slowly, feeling every tick of Eddie’s nostrils against him as they flared wide. A few more breathy, mewling gasps escaped from the older man before he was pulling back with a frantic urgency.

Steve started to come at the sight of the metalhead poised right on the precipice of losing all control. His eyebrows arched, mouth hanging slack as his nostrils twitched and twitched. He buckled forward at last, aiming each sneeze down between them. Steve’s orgasm engulfed him as he felt his boyfriend’s fit bathe his cock in spray, huge, cold-induced sneezes that he himself had helped to tease out.

“HIDDDTT’SHIEEWWW!! AHDDTT’ZSHIEWW!! EHh-NGXTCH’CHIEWW!! GXXTSH’TZSIEW!!”

A few more desperate, hitching gasps before a final, definitive “EHH’DZZTT’TSCHIEWW!!!” burst out of Eddie, so strong he trembled with it.

The orgasm continued to pulse outwards from his cock and throughout his limbs, the sweetest pleasure, leaving him shaking and moaning the metalhead’s name, coming in heavy spurts into the cage of his fingers.

He wound down from his peak, feeling sleepy all at once but willing himself to stay awake. Eddie was staring at him with a look of such intense desire that Steve’s spent cock pulsed pitifully in response. His grip retightened on Eddie’s cock and he resumed his stroking, desperate to watch his boyfriend fall into an orgasm of his own.

“Bless you, baby, fuckkk. That felt so good. You’re incredible.”

Eddie groaned, sniffling at the slight mess that dripped from his nose after that body-bending fit. He looked up at Steve before raising his hand to his lips and licking at the mess the former jock had left all over his fingers.

“Mm. You taste amazing, Stevie. Not that I can taste all that much right now.” He flashed a cheeky grin at Steve.

Steve grinned back and pulled Eddie closer to him with his free arm, pressing their chests flush together. It made jerking his boyfriend off a little harder, but they both sighed in satisfaction at the skin contact. Steve felt Eddie’s thighs starting to twitch, saw how his face had started to screw up – sure signs of his approaching orgasm. Not to mention the filthy, nonsensical ramblings pouring from his mouth that normally started up when he began to fall to pieces.

Eddie reached up to cup Steve’s cheek with his clean hand, tilting his face towards him.

“Do you have a tickle, baby? Sneeze for me?”

Steve sniffled experimentally. His cold had left him with a near-constant tickle just on the edge of fully culminating. He reached up briefly to rub the tip of his nose in small circles, feeling his breath catch as the tickle started to build anew. He sniffled a few more times for good measure.

“Yeah….oh-hohhh, yeah, definitely gonna…gonna sneeze..!”

“Unnnhh, Stevie!”

As Steve’s eyes started to flutter shut, he took in the sight of his boyfriend frozen right on the edge of orgasm. He was flushed all the way down to his chest, tattoos standing out in stark contrast. He was so damn pretty. Steve gasped, burying his nose in the crook of Eddie’s neck.

“Get ready, baby-! It’s coming…gonna sneeze for you...HH-HAH!!”

One more final inhale, chest expanding against Eddie’s, before the tickle crested and he was pitching forward helplessly.

“HAHH’TISSSCHHH’IEWW!! ITSCCHHHIEWW!! HH-H-HUHH!! HUHHRESSHHHOOOhh!!”

Eddie’s strangled moan was loud in his ear as he snuffled against his neck, strong arm wrapped around the older man’s slender waist, feeling him strain and shiver against him. It looked and sounded like a particularly intense orgasm for the metalhead, and Steve felt a sort of pride mingled with affection spreading through his chest. He loved making Eddie feel good. He felt his hard cock jerk in his grasp, painting his fingers and both of their lower stomachs in hot stripes of cum.

Steve was almost asleep as his boyfriend came down from his high, mumbling and giggling as endorphins rushed through his system.

“Ohh, Steve, holy fuck!”

“Mmf.” Steve snuggled closer to Eddie, nestling up to him with the intention to pass the fuck out.

“Stevie. Steve. Not yet, honey. We need to clean up. And put some clothes on before Wayne gets here.”

Steve stubbornly did not budge, even as Eddie’s captured cock softened in his limp grasp.

“Noooo. They won’t be here for hours, anyway…” He nestled further into Eddie, then moaned in displeasure as his boyfriend wriggled free.

“Nuh-uh. Up, now. I don’t trust you to wake up in time. Not after that nut, and with that fever.”

“Ungggg……okay……”

Eddie helped Steve sit up, both of them swooning at the effort. Now that their orgasms had cleared their heads, the discomfort of their sickness was starting to filter through the afterglow. Eddie wiped Steve’s hand clean with a fresh tissue.

“Let’s jump in the shower – just for a couple of minutes, dude, stop whining! We smell like sick people and cum.”

Steve nodded. Eddie may be blunt, but he was right. He squeezed his hand in his own.

“Okay. I really, really love you, by the way. Let’s not fight over stupid shit anymore. Please?”

Eddie kissed him softly before wrapping his arms around Steve’s muscular shoulders.

“Yeah. No more fighting. Love you so much.”

They held each other for a couple more minutes before stumbling to their feet, shaky on their legs en route to the small bathroom and finding it hilarious. Their weekend might not have gone even remotely as planned, but neither of them regretted it, knowing they’d look back on it all one day and remember only the love they felt for each other as the tepid shower water sluiced over their feverish skin.

[teaveetamer]

I really don't want to be rude and I'm sorry if it appears that way, but why are you still engaging in all FE discourse? It's clearly not making you happy.

There's many cool project to focus on for FE ( there's a Blue Lions fanzine coming up!! ), and even outside of FE, I'm sure there's many games that could be to your taste? Idk if you already played it, but Baldur's Gate 3 has nearly everything cool FE have while being a really good game!

Discourse make us all miserable and we often end up doing things we regret, if not just for the time wasted talking to asshole. I know how it is, I was there before.

Blocking people and tag then moving on sometimes is for the best ( even asshole like Raxis, he might have stalker-ish behavior but the best that can be done is ignoring him ). I was sad to see your profile bc of random discourse, I would love to find you the same way but this time for speaking of something you love.

Anon I’m going to take this in the best possible faith here, and no I’m not assuming you’re being rude

1) I do have a blog which is ENTIRELY dedicated to just talking about things I love. It’s called my main blog, which used to be linked to this one, but I had to remove that link after one of the more deranged members of the fandom chose to follow it and comment pro-genocide stuff on my fun polls about which PNG is the sexiest. I also still write fanfic, livestream, participate in niche-r discord severs, and run several side blogs and accounts for events and tournaments, none of which I advertise heavily here because, again, a subsection of extremely deranged fans of a particular character seem to take it as an invitation to be extremely deranged.

2) I made this side blog explicitly to quarantine fandom negativity from my more positive endeavors, and frankly I have been trying (key word trying) to wind down its usage for years now because, frankly, I have better things to do and I don’t have that much more to say about 3H itself anyway but…

3) I have blocked the losers who are engaging in this kind of behavior. The problem is that they do not respect that block and continue to stalk, harass, and repost the things I say anyway to various social platforms, which has led to death threats made against me (among other things) because they are unwell beyond anything a block button can fix.

And 4) since I am not the only one these people do this kind of thing to, I figure the least I can do is warn people of their deranged behavior by using what little platform I have here.

So anon if you want to see me do something I enjoy, chances are you’ve already seen me doing it even if you didn’t realize it was me. And if you would like to see this blog stop posting, I highly encourage you to call out dangerous fandom behavior such as stalking, death threats, false accusations of pedophilia, harassment, etc. when you see it.

And sorry this took me a few days. I spent most of the week with a nasty sinus infection and I spent all my energy Thursday on going to work and class

[silverwarewolf]

2, 12, 23 for keiji or alice (or both) :D

HI thanks for the ask. omg my boys.

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

KEIJI: that he's a lil bitch. he's self serving he's arrogant he has a stick up his ass sometimes. he can be harsh and hates vulnerability and his temper is so. ahhhh you know? but also he cares so much. he trusts so much. the whole thing with sara is endearing, in a way. he's so unwell i love him i want to study his brain and offer him mysterious tea. also, he's hot.

ALICE: this man is so fucking dramatic i love that. also, the entire trans-but-not-quite backstory? and how much care he has for reko omg the sibling dynamics in yttd make me UNWELL.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

KEIJI: i am not immune to keishin. also i guess this doesn't really qualify as an answer but i hvae a very specific idea of how he smells (like, what perfume he would use + the smell of ironed clothes + the idea of him). also i think he would enjoy a bowl of very spicy noodles with cheese, and subsequently die.

ALICE: mwell, kai/mai/alice is the ship i'm aboard and one i will valiantly sail against the world. (although other ships of him are good too). Also the smell thing. Also, i think he's chased by misfortune, major and minor. The murder of sou, the murder of hinako, being locked into a fate with reko... so i think he should also get hammered with minor ones like idk, he always slams his head on cabinets and stuff like that. also he should get a lot of plushies.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

Keiji: deranged hot man. no further comment.

Alice: LOOK AT WHAT WE COULD'VE HAD.

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

I honestly feel so bad for Nat. She seems like such a fun and sweet girl and I would kill to be friends with her, and I'm sure there are very valid reasons as to why she doesn't post about dating Evan like crazy. The whole comparison between her and his old girlfriends is so unfair. They're not the same people, maybe Nat just doesn't feel all the romantic posts are necessary? I mean, looking at her posts before dating Evan, I don't think she's ever posted about her relationships much. It's always her partners or her friends posting photos or she has one here or there, and then maybe reposts some stories about herself or her friends. You don't have to blast something online for it to be real or a good relationship. You seriously can never win with these types of fans, genuinely, because even if she did do that like they want, they would paint her even more like a fame or gold digger. Yet, wouldn't they do the same if they were dating Evan? But of course, it's ok, because she's actually a bad person and they're not (based on no evidence of course other than their own delusion and nit picking.) And of course, as soon as she stands up for herself, she again can't win. They want her to respond, yet as soon as she does and she makes some poor or vague wording choices, now it's "They broke up" "She's doing what Fran did and pretending they're still together" "She said they're just friends" "She's insecure" "Why did she respond, she should have just blocked them!" (All real quotes I've seen on Instagram.) I mean it's baffling. The pressure is insane on this woman just trying to live her life.

Logic doesn't register to these people for real. It doesn't exist in their world.

For however long their relationship lasts, I truly hope that Nat is coping fine with all the negativity and has the support of Evan, her family and friends at all times about this. And in the same note, hopefully it will all die down eventually and she can be present online peacefully. They're slandering her and dragging her across the floor for a man, who if he knew of their behavior especially, would never even consider looking their way. And the fact that some of the worst of these people actually got to see him last month and he had no idea makes my stomach churn like crazy. Like, what is this deluded thought that saying all of this might make Evan happy or applaud you? You fan over this man and say you love and care about him, yet you drag someone he loves for what reason other than jealousy and threads? Do they seriously not realize that Evan would never approve of this and probably sees what they're doing and is enraged by it? And then to have the audacity to show your face to him and pretend you aren't doing those things behind the scenes like it's your full time job? brother EUGH. I know we like to joke and get a little silly on here, but in all seriousness, I hope Nat and her friends are aware of this blog and read it and feel at least a little comfort and hope with being in the community, because this is deranged. The fact that she had to limit her comments genuinely makes me so sad, it shouldn't get to that point, and I also seriously just personally enjoy Nat and her content. And that being ruined because of mentally unwell and seething fans is disheartening.

thank you anon 💗 very well said. no one deserves to face this level of animosity and scrutiny simply over dating a man. it’s unhinged and over the top. i completely understand if natalie chooses to keep her relationship off of social media - for any reason, but especially if people are just going to act psychotic over it and try to harass her.

[linaselandbasil]

You Too, Ezarel?

Ezarel/Lance, oral sex, kinda deranged, okay very deranged, hey look nobody's drunk this time!, it's roughly 2000 words, not that long by my standards but I'll make a part 2

Tw: daddy issues, light physical harm (with consent of course)

The fic is below the cut, but here's the link to it on ao3 anyway.

Have fun, everyone!

...

The key turned in the lock.

His back hit the wall, the fright of being shoved so suddenly caused a weird aching feeling in his limbs. He had no reason to be afraid, Lance wouldn't hurt him. Even if the man acted like he didn't care for others, he's still the same as he used to be.

"Take it off." The elf said, referring to the mask. He really doesn't like the dynamic of being seen by him whilst not being able to see him.

"Hmm." He took the mask off and put it on the shelf next to him. "Nice office you have. It's almost as messy as your room." He hovered over the other man, trapping him against the wall.

Ezarel unbuttoned his shirt as he spoke. "As if your job was any more prim." He reached up to hug Lance's neck, which he took as permission- nay, an invitation to touch the elf. He pulled the hem of his shirt out of his pants and reached up his birthmark filled back. "Careful, I have a bugbite." Lance was barely listening, he was busy pulling the fabric off his shoulder with his teeth. Not in a sexy way, more like he was a feral animal pulling on your pantleg.

"I don't need to know about that." He said, hugging Ezarels thin waist and taking his gloves off behind his back. "So, what were do you wanna do tonight?"

"Bend me over my desk... And how about a blowjob?"

"At the same time??"

"No." He was visibly so done with Lance and his bullshit, but the dick is good so he keeps quiet... and if he complains too much Lance might just beat the shit out of him. "What do you want to do?"

"I donno, I'm too mentally unwell to even know what deranged acts would please me." He cupped Ezarels face in his hands and kissed his soft lips. Let me tell you, the guy has his skincare routine on point. Every inch of his body is silky smooth and well moisturized... on the other hand, Lance hasn't bathed in 28 hours and 43 minutes. "One thing is for sure, I want you to remember tonight." He kissed below his ear." Every time you try to sit down." Ezarel gasped, sarcastically of course.

"Oh how scared I am! Have mercy!" He said as the shirt fell off his shoulders. It's cold, his pale hairs stood straight up.

"You say that like it's not true. Your voice is weak, your palms all sweaty. You think I don't notice?" There's vomit on the sweater already, moms spaghetti.

He looked away. "How do you know my palms are sweaty? You can't possibly feel them through the armor!"

"No, but I can see the frikin paw prints you left on my chest! You nasty little bitch, I literally cleaned it yesterday!" He chuckled and slapped the elf on his rather underwhelming stickbug ass.

"Whatever."

"Whatever?" Lance got closer, roughly shoving him into the wall and kissed him. "You're an ass." Ezarel laughed.

"You're calling me an ass? You? After what you've done- what you're doing to your brother, you call me an ass??" Lance looked at him for a few minutes, seething. With each second that passed, Ezarel trembled more and more in anticipation. This happened every time. He can't ignore his hatred towards Lance, even if he adores the man at the same time. They keep bickering, poking at each other like they used to, but with the elephant in the room it always comes to this. "You've got nothing to say, Lance?" The man took a step back from him.

He teared up from the hard slap that landed across his face. The force of it made him fall over, bumping into the shelf. Lance went closer and pulled his hair to make him look up at him before his anger melted away. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry... Can you do it again please?" Ezarel pleaded with polite words. He was breathing fast, he had a big red mark on his left cheek. This happened every time, he played with fire until he got burned. He was on his knees, cowering under the monster he loved to bring out from his dear Lance.

"If you miss your father so much you could just visit him." He yanked him up by his hair and, pulled him close.

"He stopped beating me when I got taller than him." He said, pushing their foreheads together. "That's why I need you." Lance caressed his sore cheek, making him wince. He almost felt guilty that he enjoyed the fear he saw in his emerald eyes. When the elf got a little more comfortable, he shoved him away and slapped him on the other side to match. Ezarel sure loves symmetry. Lance wrapped him in his arms and rocked him back and forth until he once again felt safe. He then pushed him a little further away from the door, towards another blank wall.

Ezarel didn't dare look at him, but if he did, he'd see a satisfied smirk. "On your knees." His legs were already weak, as he lowered himself he nearly collapsed. Lance slowly walked closer. "Look at me." He made sure to step on the bony fingers of the elf. He didn't put his whole weight on it, but the disrespect is still apparent.

"Lance?"

"Hmm?"

"More?" He rolled his eyes.

"What, you think you deserve it? You're having too much fun."

"Don't make me beg." He pulled his hand out from under the shoe and stood up.

"On. Your. Knees." The way Lance was hovering over him was scaring him. In a good way of course, he's been hard since the first slap.

"M-make me." He backed away as he said it, hitting the wall almost immediately. Lance scoffed and grabbed one of his ears to pull him down with. "Nononono wait, please! Ah!"

"Oops, sorry. I made you beg." He smirked when he had the elf back on the ground. "You wanted a blowjob? Go ahead, but keep your hands on the ground." He unbuttoned his pants and whipped it out. Ballsy move, literally.

"Not exactly what I meant..." Eza drew in a deep breath and took the tip in his mouth. Lance pulled him back by his ears, grabbing them at the base. He hissed, but did nothing.

"No, that's rude. Give him a kiss first." Ezarel was sort of pissed for being micro managed like this, but this is exactly what he needed. He wanted a man to replace his father. (Weird, I know. Shut up.) He gave it a kiss right on the tip and opened his mouth to take it back in. He heard the almost inaudible grunt from Lance. It made him feel so accomplished. He went up and down, trying to relax his throat. "Good job." He pulled the elf away. "Undress."

He complied, working his trembling hands as fast as he could. The shirt dropped to the floor without any effort, the pants he had to fiddle with until he managed to unbutton them. He kicked his lab shoes off and he was finally able to rid himself of his pants. The snake yearns for freedom.

"You look like a fork."

"Excuse me?"

"You." He pointed at Ezarel. "Look like a fork."

"I understood what you said!"

"I know, I just wanted you to hear it again."

Ezarel sighed. "Asshole."

"Watch your mouth, chopstick man." Lance grabbed his shoulder and pushed him down, the cold floor doesn't exactly feel great on his bony knees as he sits on them. "Open up."

He obeys, although he'd like another slap. Too bad he can't aggravate the man with his mouth full. His lips touch the *coughs* staff, he relaxes himself as Lance pushes deeper and deeper without mercy. He feels the strong hands caress his head, strangely caring. Chills went down his spine when Lance lightly scratched his scalp. He enjoyed it until he realized that he's being scratched like a dog. "Hmm!"

"Don't like it?" Lance's rough voice had a barely noticeable tremble in it. The elf is happy to know that he's enjoying himself. He tried to free his mouth to answer, but his partner was not having that. He trapped Ezarel between himself and the wall. He can hardly breathe, and Lance knows that for sure. The hand came to rest on top of his head. No more head scratches sadly.

He tried to shake his head to answer. It's pretty hard with his predicament.... Amongst other things that are pretty hard right now. 💀

"No teeth." He pat his blue head a bit harder than necessary. Ezarel groaned and intentionally nipped the skin. Lance was not hesitant to pull him away and slap the shit out of him, the spit that slid down his chin made it sound somewhat different than before. "Behave." Ezarel grinned like the bastard he is. Even with the state that he's in, he still manages to exert just enough control to be an assertive, annoying, way too confident asshole.

His pale face was a little red from slaps and from how intense his previous activities were, his lips had reddened significantly, he has tears In his eyes. He looks beautiful. Lance lovingly tucked his spit soaked hair out of his face and scratches his scalp again. "You don't hit me as hard anymore."

"And you complain about that? Dumbass."

"That first one was good, the rest were weak. Do better." Lance scoffed, grinning down at this idiot.

"You freak. Get back to work." Ezarel looked up at him, seriously contemplating biting him.

"Make me." Lance didn't look at all amused, but believe me he was.

"Bitch." He grabbed the other man's pristine elven likeness and shoved his dick down his throat. Ezarel was used to it but he still choked from the roughness. He held onto Lance's thighs, he needed something to ground himself. "Didn't I tell you? Hands on the floor." When he was done gagging and let go of his thighs, Lance began thrusting into him. He was surprisingly not wrecking the elf. He moaned, which made Ezarel really happy.

He needs male validation, courtesy of his emotionally unavailable father.

"You doing okay?" He stopped for a second, breathing heavy.

"M-hum!" Ezarel answered, looking up at him through tear soaked lashes.

"Good, I'm impressed, you learned this so quickly." Oh boy, Lance KNOWS exactly what he needs! "You still wanna get bent over?" He pushed Ezarel down on his cock until he couldn't breathe. He nodded, fighting his gag reflex. "Well, whatever. I'm nutting now." What a gentleman.

Ezarel hummed, accepting his grim fate. Lance gathered all of his hair in his hand and held his pretty swan neck in the other, he widened his stance like the true warrior he was and began ramming into the poor elf like he was trying to poke a hole into his skull. It was quite enjoyable for Ezarel, he likes the humiliation. Lance moaned as he pressed against his shaft with his tounge, he was seconds away from the finish line.

The elf was trying desperately to not touch Lance, he wanted to so badly. The man slowed down significantly, he could feel the salty mess on his tounge already. Lance pushed at his chin with his thumb to open his mouth, pulled out and jerked. Ezarel stuck his tongue out to welcome the cum. "Hands." He held his palm out. Ezarel reached up and his bony fingers were guided around the shaft. He milked as much out as he could, mouth still agape. Lance's blue eyes were fixed on him, admiring him. "Good boy." He praised.

"Thank you." He said, sounding strange since he hadn't swallowed. After the way he got chewed out last time he swallowed without permission, he didn't dare to do it again.

"Nah, you did great. Don't thank me for what you deserve." He still firmly held his hair. "Swallow." His throat tightened but he forced it down. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and let out a sigh of relief when Lance sat down besides him. It was fun, but it was intense.

"Lance."

"Hm?" Lance leaned into the wall, resting.

"What about me?"

"Eh, in part 2."

Ezarel sighed. "Okay, fair enough."

...

I'd like to SUMMON THE COUNCIL!!!!

@aide-falls @losyashkakus @lumen-anima

And since this is a Lance fic, I would like to invite an honorary guest: @slowiedrakie

[goldenalbum]

Respectfully disagree you saying that Jimin is your ult. You and your anons must be sleeping during FACE era if you didn’t see how vile Jk solos were towards Jimin. Tagging spotify to split LC version, saying the most disgusting and vile things about Jimin because he had 2 remixes, making SA edits about him. Heck forget about 8 months back, it was just 2 days back Jk solos were tweeting that they hope Jimin’s plane crashes while he was returning back from Hungary. They were DMing people and saying horrible things about Jimin just because they praised Jimin after the Stuck With You dance reel. That poor person went private because of that.

That’s how disgusting and deranged JK solos are. And if you didn’t know all this then that it because you are diet solo yourself. At this point I am just going to assume all Jk biased people are akgaes themselves and definitely have an agenda against JM cause tell me why I didn’t see such posts defending Jimin against other solos especially JKs. You are a solo yourself if you are trying to rank which solo is the worst. Where is the post targeted to Jk solos to respect other 6 members since Jk is supposed to love them right? You guys are the precise reason Jk solos get away and have been getting away with their atrocious behaviour towards other members especially Jimin.

bestie you're really unwell if you think you can dictate who my biases are and if i'm a solo or not. that's not how any of this works. i have been a fan of bts since 2015, so how about you respectfully remove yourself from my inbox if youre going to come here trying to tell me about my own damn self.

oh yes look at me the clear jk solo who *checks notes* runs an ot7 blog, talks about how much i love jimin in my private conversations, has jm as my discord pfp, had the url jihopi for years before the temporary change to support jk's album, and plays jimin's songs more than anything else.

also idk why all of yall anons have reading comprehension problems. i never said jm akgaes were worse than jk ones. i never ranked them. for the third time now, i said jm akgaedom has some of the loudest ones, at least here on tumblr which is the only social media site i use. as a fellow jm lover, it really pisses me off. in fact here is me in another private convo almost 2 months ago talking to a non bts friend about how annoying both jm and jk solos are and one month ago mentioning the shit both of them get all the time.

maybe it's BECAUSE jimin is my ult and i am constantly in his tag that i tend to see those posts more, i will admit that much, but for the past few months i can't go one day without seeing someone shit on jk or a post claiming that the world is out to get jm which is just weirdly false. me defending jk, as i would any member, doesn't make me a solo and it's really sad that you think that way.

also where is the post calling out jk solos? literally right here. me calling out all malicious solos is LITERALLY what started the bullshit in my inbox.

but continue pretending like you know literally anything about me and my thoughts. i'm interested in seeing what you'll come up with next.

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

confession time! I was out with a friend watching a concert near halloween, and I swear there was someone hiding behind the tubes of the pipe organ. My friend didn't believe me but I swear there was a humanoid shape there but my friend said she didn't see anything. We both joked it was the phantom even though it was probably just a stagehand or something, and then since the audience area was so dark because we weren't allowed phones out during the performance, I got the idea to catch the person's attention. My friend said no, and because I'm a dumbass, I proceeded to do so without thinking, holding my lit up phone over one side of my face to mimic the phantom's mask, and she slapped me and I got scolded by the usher but I managed to prove that there WAS something or someone behind the organ all this time because whoever it was vanished and didn't appear again. Now that it's happened I can't stop thinking about it and giggling a little. Brought this up with my friend because I felt like it and she said I would be the first to die in a horror movie AHAHA

btw potnential thought experiment. if someone saw Erik and signalled that they could see him like I did (but with a mirror flash or something because phones didn't exist back then) how do you think he would respond

this is SUCH a fun message because I spent several sentences expecting a copypasta or a tree tree fiddy joke, but no! we're just all mildly Unwell about this fictional man and consider him potentially anywhere and everywhere!

My answer might be a bit different from most. I do not think Erik is socially "awkward" or inept at all, and I firmly, wildly, passionately disagree with the current dominant fandom take that's like "haha yeah he's so socially stupid." (and imo even worse: "haha he's so stupid obviously this is and this alone means autism I am so Enlightened about marginalized mental health issues.") Especially going by book canon, Erik is brilliant and in many ways CORRECT about his plight: Christine outright says that it's his face that's the issue, and more than once says she would stay if he were handsome. etc. etc. Most of Erik's deranged behaviors make absolute sense in the context of: nosferatu looking motherfucker that gets screamed at, scorned, banished, blah blah blah each time somebody sees his face.

So, with THAT in mind

My concept of Erik is that he is, most essentially, at his core, a performer. Chronic theatre kid energy. He is in full black tie attire at NOON. this man is SO extra and he's like that on purpose and he's a massive troll. He takes the time to make or acquire elaborate masked ball costumes with DO NOT TOUCH embroidered on.

I firmly believe this man is ready and willing to do a magic trick at ALL TIMES.

So if Erik's in a FUN mood and you see him--I think he's delighted. I think he probably can't help but to fuck with you a little. He's gonna throw his voice and whisper in one of your ears and then the other. You'll feel a ghostly brush against your shoulder and then turn around and see nothing. You get echoing footsteps when you leave later that night. You get twinkling in the eaves, something moving not quite right in the mirror, a floating candlestick in the distance. THE WORKS. The opera ghost is IN and he's having a fine time. tbh you're providing him enrichment in his enclosure. It's like giving a tiger a meat stuffed watermelon to roll around.

Nothing malicious, though. He pick pockets something and it turns up in a different pocket. He steals some change and tips Giry with it or he leaves you a tip instead. Probably folds bills into weird ass origami. Nothing malicious, again, and nothing untoward. He is, ultimately, a gentleman.

But if he scares you a little bit, if you're a teensy bit uneasy, actually, if the venue is actually kinda too dark, in places...I think he probably likes that, too.

Erik in a bad mood?

DAGORA I SWEAR EVERYBODY IS TRYING TO KILL ME. JUST TONIGHT SOMEONE IN THE AUDIENCE THREATENED ME. THEY WANTED ME TO KNOW THEY WERE WATCHING. Little do they know I am watching THEM. I am going to make them step into a muddy puddle, just so that they know that I know that they know. What? Of course I'm going to let them fall into my traps if they try to find my house. That's not even murder.

(Erik is a big believer in the Castle Doctrine.)

[articskele]

Cedric Desmond McClain my new beloved

YES...... YES!!!!!!

Cedric is SUCH a fun and interesting character to me and I'm SO unwell about him. Believe me when I say I've never been as utterly deranged over a character as I have with him. He's everything!!! He's everything

Here are some fun facts about The Guy Ever:

- Hozier fan, enough said

- I'm VERY picky about voice claims, but the closest ones I can find are Love Eat and Bernadette (which I WILL make an analysis post about bc this is SUCH a Cedric song you have no idea)

- I don't know shit about scents? Cologne? The funny smells? But he definitely smells very good

- He unironically likes La Croix

- Cedric was born in America, but his relatives on his mother's side are British!

- He studies Latin! A: Because he just thinks it's interesting, B: things don't have to be useful to have value (not to mention the history behind it all), and C: to curse people out in the most dramatic way possible ajfklsjdfsd-

I'm just imagining he and Mel are playing some FPS game and he gets killed for the fifth time this match and he just starts fuckign gamer rage shouting in Latin and everyone in the voice chat is just losing it-

- Bi with a preference for women. "I love the kind of woman that will actually just kill me-" aKJASHFKJSAF

- Always sleeps hugging a pillow. He needs something to hold.

[starrierknight]

okay first off i feel like i have had obsessions that were at a similar level at the very least so i find you completely perfect about this

secondly that's tall i love that i love tall men so much i want them also he's so pretty you are so right and the personality sounds great you are SO right

thirdly sorry but why do i feel like the internet would call him bbg

pls lmao okay good for us honestly, gotta have the silly little obsessions to get thru The Horrors

and YES UES FKFLSKSNB SO TALL!!!!!! SO SO SO SO!!!! TALL!!!!! and strong!!!!! ohhhh god he's so fkflsjsbks he's just. just. so so. so. he makes me SICK he makes me UNWELL his personality.... I love it so much like. you do not understand I am so deranged abt him

I'M SO GLAD YOU GET IT!!!!

and yes LMFAO so many of us call him babygirl or princess bc I mean. well.

[dinsbeskar]

I NEED A THERAPIST TOO, I AM UNWELL

sorry I am actually feral for this, he is so unhinged, I need him

"sludge in a cave" absolutely sent me, like I'm currently editing my fic where he is all goo, and frankly nothing I have written compares to "sludge in a cave", you've won that 😂

He couldn't lie to you. Not truly. Not without regret. The lies he spoke to you were like needles coming from his throat and spilling from his tongue, gashing and cutting him before spilling past his lips. He could not lie to you.

Ooooof oh my god the great deceiver realising he can't lie to her, ohhhhhhhh i am in pain, it is too good???

He could never be sated.

Me neither!!! Christ I could read this forever

The feel of your skin would be an invisible tattoo etched into his hands until the stars rained from the skies.

Fucks sake this is just gorgeous, what a bloody beautiful metaphor, I couldn't come up anything to rival it if I sat like those hypothetical monkeys at the endless typewriters who spontaneously write Hamlet (weird metaphor but it is true!!)

One day, he would carve his name into your flesh, and he would lap at the blood that flowed from the wound.

Is that a threat or a promise???? Jesus I need to lie down

“That's it, that's my girl,” he mumbled softly, his fingers never ceasing. “C'mon sweet girl. Fuck, look at you. Look at that pretty fucking face.”

I feel like him calling me his girl might just cure me of all my ills, or make them 10 times worse, but uhhh we need it, there's something so endearing yet possessive about it that's perfect for his character

You were his. His alone. No one could have you. No one could dare. He'd burn the world to the ground and everyone with it. He'd drown the world in blood. No sin was too dark for him to commit, not if he ended back here. Deep inside you.

Holy mother of God, this is insane, unhinged, deranged, I love it so much, he needs to be stopped!!! Fuck!!!

Something about how you looked at him in that moment, he realized you owned him. He was yours. No one else's. No elf. No Maiar. There was only you. You were his religion, and this was his worship. He was yours. You owned him. He was ruined for anyone else. Perhaps you were not made for him, but he for you.

Okay????? Holy shit????? Oh god it's the "this was his worship" for me, I am broken, I need to touch grass

And I have such a soft spot for him wanting to be called Mairon, christ I need it to happen?? The angst when she finds out he's Sauron though, oh goddd

Flawless, 10/10, absolutely filthy, as we knew it would be

And Comes Dawn pt 10.2

Pairing: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader

Words: 2.6k

Summary: The wall breaks.

Tags: manipulation, mentions of blood, smut, cream pie, fingering, sauron needs a therapist he is unwell, wall sex, obsession, sauron pov,

Notes: you sluts convinced me. I'm very proud of this one, especially the first part. As always I love your feedback.

He splashed the water over his face, mind reeling back to hours earlier. He hoped his ruse with the blacksmith worked. Yes, he wanted a job and a fresh start. At least part of him did, the part that didn't seek to take over the world and force every race under the sun to their knees. But he also knew where you'd be. Of course he did. He could sense you anywhere. You'd never be able to hide from him. The sight of you with the boy made his blood boil, but it all served a purpose. To make you doubt. To make you think. To convince you, he felt nothing real for the elf. Nothing like he felt for you.

That wasn't a deception. He didn't feel the same for her that he felt for you. She was a powerful ally and the best pawn he could have at his disposal. She intrigued him, but in a different way than you did. She had such darkness in her, but she didn't acknowledge it. She was beautiful, of course. But you were different in ways that he dare not think too much of. The wall he has built in his mind was too strong to allow his mind to wander to what his feelings for you meant, where the deception ended, and his truth began.

The knock drew him from his thoughts, and he made quick work of dressing himself. He couldn't help but smirk. It was you, of course it was, and it meant that his plan had worked. In a moment, his face changed as he opened the door.

“When did you get back?”

The sound of your voice started a chorus inside his soul. The miniscule part of him that could feel love and affection and joy and hope came alive. Morgoth convinced him it was the weak part of him. Morgoth had worked endlessly to destroy that. Sauron could almost believe it was gone until he looked into your eyes, and it ravaged him, shaking his being and willpower and fighting against everything he knew and believed.

“Early this morning, before sunrise.” He spoke softly. Your silence was thick in the air. Perhaps he needed to do more.

“Sweet one, I am sorry for what happened before. I ..-”

“Do you love me?”

What?

No.

He didn't.

He couldn't.

He wasn't capable of it.

Inside his mind, the carefully constructed wall began to crack.

Do you love me?

The words rang in his ears, getting louder and louder until it was all he could think. His mind could not break free. There was no manipulating or deceiving his way out of this. His consciousness would no longer let him deny it.

He couldn't lie to you. Not truly. Not without regret. The lies he spoke to you were like needles coming from his throat and spilling from his tongue, gashing and cutting him before spilling past his lips. He could not lie to you.

Why?

He could not look you in the eyes and think of bringing you harm. He had tried. How many times on that raft had he thought of drowning you in the sea. Or stabbing you. He could imagine his body acting the movements. He could see it in his mind's eyes, but he could never do it. He could never harm you. He couldn't even make something else bring you harm.

Why?

You made him think of home. Of song and light and love. Of a time before time when everything was peaceful and quiet. Your touch brought him a warmth he had not felt in time unimaginable.

Why?

Why did he have to protect you? Why did he seek you out every moment of every day? Why did 3 days apart from you feel longer than the thousands of years he spent as sludge in a cave?

Why did you make him wonder? Wonder about the future, about his morality, about his redemption. About the mystery of if Maia and mortals could ever have children. Why did you make him think of a family?

Why was your mere presence so utterly groundbreaking to who he had become that it felt like an apocalypse had come over his very soul?

“Halbrand, do you love me?”

Your voice tore him from these thoughts, and looking at you, he knew. He knew.

And in that knowing he feared. He feared what he could do to you. He feared what others could do to you. He feared his old master long dead.

He feared because it was true.

He feared because he loved you, and he could no longer keep it hidden from himself.

“I do.”

He was not prepared for when you sprung on him, and he couldn't gather the willpower to hesitate. He had felt lust before, for others of his kind and for a select few elves, but what he felt for you transcended the physical. You tasted sweet, of course you did, and he couldn't help the groan that rumbled in his throat. His fingers dug into the plump flesh of your cheeks as if afraid you'd move away.

He had longed for this moment, it seemed for an eternity, but he knew that was not the case. He broke the kiss, holding your chin in his grasp as he kept your face away from him. He could not just take you. He had to know if you wanted him too. He craved it. And if you didn't want him, he would wait until you did.

“Sweet one,” his voice was deep and rough, looking down at you. You looked so pure and so innocent. “Tell me this is what you want.”

“I want this. I want you.”

You spoke with no hesitation. There was not even a moment. What he thought about in the quiet of the night with his cock grasped in his hand, the lewd sounds he'd only imagined you making, it was all about to become a reality.

“Fuck,” he groaned and made quick work of pulling you into his room. He pushed you against the door, knee between your legs and lips bruising yours. He could feel your arousal on the cloth of his pants, his tongue slipping inside of your mouth. You tasted so sweet. So pure. So good. He could never be sated.

Your skin felt soft in his hands. He squeezed and kneaded all of you. Your stomach. Your thighs. Your ass. Your breasts. The feel of your skin would be an invisible tattoo etched into his hands until the stars rained from the skies.

It was him who whined when you pulled away. He was desperate for more. His forehead rested against yours as he watched you. Your lips swollen and red, he could taste your spit on his tongue, and he needed more of you.

But only if you wanted him too. Only if you needed him to. The devastation of his love for you had been immense. He could not imagine the havoc your rejection would cause. One hand gently rested at the base of your neck to direct your eyes to him, his thumb softly caressing your skin.

“Tell me to stop, sweet one, and I will.”

You looked up at him, and his breath caught in his throat. How could anyone compare to you?

“I am yours.”

Oh, sweet one.

You did not know what you spoke. You did not know who you were saying this. He had selfishly claimed you, but in this moment, he felt almost broken because you did not deserve him.

“Do not say words when you do not know the weight of them, sweet one.”

“I am yours.” And suddenly you were leading his hand under your dress and to your soaked underwear. He had to grit his teeth to stop his eyes from rolling back. He doesn't dream, but he had dreamed of this. It was slick and wet and hot. And you smiled at him.

Fuck.

He did not care about his deception in this moment. He would fill you with his corruption, his darkness until it flowed from you like a fountain. Until it dripped in pools at your feet.

He moved his fingers against your clit, softly and slowly, “Has anyone touched you like this?” His voice was thick with desire.

You shook your head, but that was not good enough for him. He gently squeezed your throat, and he felt the blood that surged under his touch. One day, he would carve his name into your flesh, and he would lap at the blood that flowed from the wound.

“Use your words,” he mumbled softly.

“No, only you.”

Only him.

He slid his finger inside of you, relishing the sound it made. The wetness and slick on his fingers made him want to taste you, but he couldn't, not tonight. He knew he would spend forever in between your thighs, and he did not have the time for that.

“Fuck, do you hear that?” His finger moved faster, the wet sound of your arousal filling the room. “My sweet one,” he cooed, “fucking soaked at the thought of my cock, huh?”

He breathed heavily, his cock was achingly hard. He was addicted to the feel of your cunt and the sounds it made as he fucked it. The way you backed against his palm, the blissed out look in your eyes, he watched it all intently. He added a second finger and as your lips parted, he hungrily tasted your mouth once more. It was sloppy and wet, his teeth tugging at your lips. He couldn't get enough. Grunts and groans and growls ripped through him as he fucked you with his fingers harder and deeper. His lips trailed to your neck, licking your salty skin and sucking until your skin turned red.

You belonged to him.

You whimpered and gasped, and he needed more of it. He gently rubbed your peaked nipple and that was enough. You were a squirming mess as you came, soaking his hand.

“That's it, that's my girl,” he mumbled softly, his fingers never ceasing. “C'mon sweet girl. Fuck, look at you. Look at that pretty fucking face.”

He watched you intently as your body relaxed and your head hit the door. “That was incredible,” your voice was soft and spent.

He chuckled, his thumb coaxing you to look at him. “Pretty girl, look at me.” You did as he told you, his hands cupping your face. You were so pretty. So beautiful. Especially now, exhausted from how hard you came.

“That's my girl,” he squeezed your cheeks in his hand. “My pretty fucking girl. I need you to look at me, okay, and I need you to be honest. There is nothing more I want right now than your cunt squeezing around my cock but I need to know you want that too.”

“Yes, Halbrand, please.”

And that was all it took.

It was a blur as he moved clothes to the side but the moment his cock slid inside you, any moral dilemma or internal conflict disappeared. Only you mattered. Only how perfect your cunt wrapped around him was important. He held your face so he could watch how you reacted to him and he could tell from your lidded eyes and flush face you felt it all too.

"Fuck,” his breath hitched.“Fuck. Does my cock feel good, sweet one?”

You nodded, but again, that wasn't enough. He needed to hear your voice say it, “No, no, no. Use your words. Let me hear it.”

“Your cock feels good,” you breathed out.

Hearing you say that made his cock twitch inside of you. “Such foul words from such a pretty mouth.” His thumb traced your bottom lip. “I'm going to move now.”

You nodded before catching yourself, “please.”

One day, he'd have to make you beg for him.

He looked down to where your bodies connected and moved, watching his cock fuck your cunt for a moment before his attention turned to you. Your eyes rolled back and lips parted like a cock drunk slut already. His cock drunk slut. The slick sounds filling the room pulled his attention back to where you two met. The way you stretched around him was intoxicating to watch.

“You're taking my cock so well, sweet one.” He kept moving, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

Your hips moved to match his thrusts and the fingernails in his skin. You had broken so easily. Given into him so easily. He knew he could take you wherever, knew by the look on your face that you'd be his to fuck whenever he pleased.

“You're mine,” he whispered. “This my fucking cunt, isn't it?”

“My cunt is yours,” you whined.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

He thrusted deep and hard, watching your face. You were his. His alone. No one could have you. No one could dare. He'd burn the world to the ground and everyone with it. He'd drown the world in blood. No sin was too dark for him to commit, not if he ended back here. Deep inside you.

Your eyes fluttered closed, and he couldn't have that. He roughly squeezed your cheeks until your eyes opened.

“Eyes on me. Focus on the feeling. I want to see how good I make you feel. Look at those pretty eyes. Those. Pretty. Fucking. Eyes.” He gasped, his grip on your face tight. You whimpered and arched into him.

Something about how you looked at him in that moment, he realized you owned him. He was yours. No one else's. No elf. No Maiar. There was only you. You were his religion, and this was his worship. He was yours. You owned him. He was ruined for anyone else. Perhaps you were not made for him, but he for you.

“You feel that cock, huh? It's yours, only yours. This is your cock, sweet one. I am yours.”

He could tell you were close, and he was too. How he wished it was his true name falling from your lips. He fucked into you harder and harder.

“Tell me you love me,” he whispered, “tell me you love me, and I will come undone.”

He needed it. He needed the release. He was desperate.

“I love you.”

It was music to his ears. Moments later, when your cunt clenched around him and cries ripped through your body, he was soon to follow. His head buried in your neck as his warmth coated you. Your name passed through his lips. He would never be sated. He would always need this.

And later that night, long after you fell asleep, as he caressed your face, he knew he could never go back across the sea. He would stay here with you and prove his redemption to the valar. That he would start a family with you. That he would make you happy. The only thing that mattered more was keeping you safe.

Nothing mattered more than that.

[lulu-zodiac]

all the times jensen ackles has slapped misha collins' ass: a masterlist

i can't believe there are enough examples of this to make a masterlist, but here we are. inspired by this glorious post which showed up on my dash recently and made me lose my mind over how it's only the TIP of the iceberg. if they do it this much in public, i don't even want to think about what happens in private...

red carpet ass slap (1)

the ust and tenderness of this moment just before the slap takes place is... a lot. i will never forget the first time i watched it and literally heard the slap. also, the way misha totally loses all capacity to speak afterwards is absolutely everything.

red carpet ass slap (2)

the sheer, unrestrained joy with which jensen slaps misha's ass here is PEAK cockles derangement. i mean, just look at his giddy little face??? the fact that the movement also exposes jensen’s cockles necklace is the icing on the cake.

jib 6 ass slap

he's literally so determined to slap misha's ass here that, bless him, he perseveres through several failed attempts.

one of my favourite things about this moment is that it actually happens when other stuff is going on onstage. this is so clearly just about them and not anything that's for show. in fact, i'm pretty sure jensen has totally forgotten that the audience is even there.

mid-interview ass slap (1)

i love how jensen is absolutely incapable of letting misha pass him during an interview without going for the ass slap. i also love how this is just SO reflexive and automatic, and jensen's soppy little smile that he tries to hide afterwards?? poor, unwell actor man.

mid-interview ass slap (2)

again, i simply refuse to get over the fact jensen’s hand just automatically gravitates to misha’s ass during interviews. i love this take on the fact it’s not just a slap here but also a grab.

just a quick passing ass slap

jensen’s brain: if you do it quickly and without making eye contact no one will notice

comic con ass slap

the way you can literally see several moments before the slap takes place the idea taking shape in jensen’s mind?? insanity

overly vigorous ass slap

i mean. the man literally bounds up to misha for the sole purpose of slapping his ass. i don't know what else to say about it.

gag reel ass slap

the unrestrained glee on jensen's face?? how absolutely DONE jim looks? jared's super awkward body language? the way misha is literally presenting his ass to jensen??? jesus fucking christ how did this show even get made

possessive in the middle of a signing ass slap

oh boy this one really is WILD given the context, the body language and the fact jensen clearly thinks it’s totally hidden from view. this analysis of the whole moment is amazing and will make you lose your actual mind. it has to be one of my favourite underrated cockles moments because the body language is just SO LOUD.

bonus:

staring reverently at misha’s ass

other resources: this compilation | another compilation | video compilation