#dunno if ill get to em all

[leori-the-unlearned]

a cattamon for now :)

and a seeeecret concept~✨

[thedrotter]

(cw for a gun, mild blood and suicide in the last drawing.)

Day 1-5 of drawing Re:Kinder daily for a whole month! I'll be doing that all month. ☺️

I did not draw Re:Kinder enough (said both sarcastically and genuinely, because while I know the statement is ridiculous I also do believe it www), so I chose to challenge myself. I will post these every 5 days to not clog the tag too much.

[seawing-vibes]

Whats everyone’s fav friendships within WoF? Theres not alotta conversation around specifically friendships in the series and I’m Curious!! My personal fav is Pike & Tamarin <3 ! They are ! Buddies !!

[todayisafridaynight]

I just want to say you’re amazing and your blog literally makes my day.

I’ve had some of the most stressful few months of my life and little things like getting updates from this blog makes everything so much better. My current favorite thing to do to de stress is just go through your blog and laugh and see our favorite boys and have fun. Your art is incredible, your comments give me life and this feels like such a happy and welcoming environment. Thank you so much, I don’t know what I would do without this ☺️ I hope all is well for you and you have a great night/day!

and if you look to your left you'll see the dude running this blog crying and sobbing while chugging a two liter bottle of canada dry AWWWWW BROO 😭😭 i'm so glad my blog can be a lil haven- a lil place to just chill even :'))

[jinxed-fates]

i know

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 23

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; a tad bit of angst; smidge of illness; all the pregnancy woes in the world; some suggestive dialogue A/N: There's some serious fluff in this. I tried so hard to keep Daryl in character while having him offer all he could to a person doing something precious for him. I hope I succeeded. The explanation of midnight blue is a little bit of self indulgence. It's my own favorite color and the reason why. I know I skipped the nursing home scene but I took the liberty of adding into the timeline somewhere as a mention.

The events of the day before had ended in the most amusing way, with you nearly inviting Carol in before getting dressed.

“She knows what tits and a vagina look like, Daryl.”

“She don’t know what my dick looks like, Y/N!”

“Touche, sir.”

All ended well and Carol saw no genitalia that fine day.

You had officially worn one another out. After the Tylenol and Carol’s snickers and knowing smiles, you and Daryl fell onto the pillows and slept until the next morning. The fever remained, albeit burning less and less hot each time the old man would look him over. His lungs were sounding better. Hershel removed the IV when the archer proved he could keep up with hydrating and promised to take it easy. Of course, he would. He had you as his warden. 

The next evening, after a bowl of hearty stew with the venison you had brought back,—two bowls for Daryl—you laid in bed. He wasn’t complaining, for once, and actually seemed to be close to falling asleep. It had been a relief to watch him eat well, even if he did try to share the second bowl. You were feeling a little nauseated, sharing that knowledge honestly when you turned down his offering. Your condition had definitely improved, the severity of the occurrences much less concerning. Things were actually okay. 

“Daryl?” You licked your suddenly dry lips but continued drawing patterns on his bare chest from your spot against his side with his arm wrapped around you. He hummed, his usual reply, eyes remaining closed while his thumb swept back and forth over your ribs. When you didn’t answer right away, he pulled you a little closer. It was unclear if it was intentional or not.

“What?” He cleared his throat, his voice still gravelly. 

“Can we—I’d like to know more about you.” Your timid request must have snagged his attention because he was shifting your bodies to lie face to face, one hand below his cheek and the other rubbing small circles just over where the baby had finally stopped tap dancing. He was giving you that look, the squinted eyes that scrutinized someone for any indication of dishonesty or hidden agenda. He should know you better than that by now, but you remained quiet.

“Whaddaya wanna know?” He finally queried, his hand going still but remaining where it was.

“Anything. Everything.” You shrugged your available shoulder. “If we’re gonna do this—be an us—then we need to know one another, don’t you think?” He started tapping a finger against your abdomen.

“S’your favorite color?”

You huffed a laugh through your nose, scrunching it with a smile. “Midnight blue. What’s yours?” He pulled a face, curiosity shining through.

“Why midnight?” He asked with a sniff, shuffling around a bit on the pillow.

“Because even though I know it isn’t, I like to think that’s the color of the night sky. Not black, but dark blue and full stars. Black is nothing, it’s lonely, but to think of it as blue. It’s a little more comforting.” The archer gave you a thoughtful look, the corner of his mouth ticking upward so minutely that anyone else would have missed it. Not you. “Now, what’s yours?”

He mimicked your earlier shrug. “Dunno. Don’t really got one, I guess.” Your silence beckoned him to explain. After moving his hand from below his cheek to chew on the side of his thumb, he eventually elaborated. “Grew up learnin’ to ‘preciate all’a ‘em. House was—it was always dark, ‘specially after mama died. When my old man—I spent a lot’a time outside. Noticed things. Blue sky’d turn a bit purple before it’d snow, even if it was just a lil’. Grass—it’d be green but have those brown pieces where I’d walk all’a the time. Creek looked muddy unless ya stood in it. Then ya’d see the bottom an’ how the water’d catch the light. Sometimes it’d be blue, sometimes kinda green. Just depended on the day.” His gaze had dropped away from you at some point, focused on the miniscule area of bed sheets between your bodies.

You were glad for it because your eyes had started to fill and shine. You were granted the opportunity to blink back the tears before he looked up. Daryl was so much more than anyone had given him credit for, than anyone had been willing to learn. Carol had told you a story about an exchange with Andrea, when she had taken a jab at what she thought was his limited vocabulary.

“Get a dictionary. Look it up. Observant.”

“D’ya like dogs or cats?” He asked so suddenly that you nearly flinched, realizing that you had just been staring at some point past his head for an undetermined amount of time. There was no way he hadn’t noticed.

“I like both, but I’m a dog person.” You frowned. Having a dog would probably be something your child would never get to experience. “You?”

“Dogs. Cats ain’t trustworthy.” It was such an amusing thing to say with such a straight face. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Wait, I need to hear this.” You caught him staring at your lips, maybe watching you laugh or maybe he wanted to kiss you. Both? You pretended not to notice. 

“Dogs’re smart but cats’re calculated. Make ya think they’re all innocent when they ain’t. Always up to somethin’.”

“What I’m hearing is that you’re afraid of cats.” You smirked, absently reaching to run your fingers through his hair. Daryl made a disgruntled sound and shook his head to stave off your attempts.

“Ain’t afraid’a ‘em. Just don’t trust ‘em.”

“Right.” You nodded, face falling into feigned seriousness before it became real, your next question burning inside your chest, just below the fear you’d need to surpass to ask. He was likely to shut down the session, maybe even close off completely. You could always hope he’d begun to trust you enough to open up, even if only a little, but the prospect suddenly seemed so far away. “Daryl.”

“Ask.” He was looking right into your eyes with a hint of determination you’d seen before when the circumstances were different, dire even. Was that how he saw this? A dire situation that could result in you being gone in some way?

“Who—what happened?” You let a single fingertip press gently against the deepest scar on his chest, your eyes lingering on it for but a moment before you contradicted his intensity with tenderness. Not pity, but a gentle curiosity. A request to allow you to understand.

“My dad—he was never a good man.” He swallowed hard. “Got worse after mama died. She drank. Fell asleep with a smoke, burned up in our house.” His fingers were plucking at the small space between you, a fine tremor in his hand. He pulled it out of your reach when you reached for it. “Didn’t know what to do with us, I guess. Me an’ Merle—my brother.” The brother that Rick had left behind in Atlanta, the brother who was likely dead. Yet another relative your baby would never know. “Merle tried to—he’d take the beatin’ when he could, did his best. Booked it outta there when he couldn't take it no more. Joined the army.” His eyes were wet, but he sniffed and cleared his throat. “Wasn't nothin’ standin’ between me an’ the old man then—between me an’ the belt. The cigarettes.” He fell silent, clearly finished with talking about his parents.

“Tell me about Merle?” You ventured, shot down with a shake of his head against the pillow.

“Ain’t your turn.” He sniffed again. “Your mama—tell me ‘bout your mama.” It wasn’t exactly a question, more of a soft demand; an it’s only fair. You didn’t mind. You’d accepted her abandonment long ago. You had been content with the amazing father with whom you were gifted.

“She booked it. We didn’t have a lot of money, and she never really wanted me in the first place. Tucked tail and ran the first chance she got.” You shrugged, unbothered beyond the twinge of guilt you felt for being so okay with the hand you had been dealt while Daryl struggled to even think about his past. “I didn’t even miss her. I mean, it sucked at first. I always felt bad, watching daddy struggle. So, I learned to help and that was that.”

He was so obviously jealous, yet another emotion that he didn't know how to process. You saw the anger flare before he doused it, returning to a solemn state of silence. He was awaiting your question, wherein you found a dilemma. Did you push through the conversation about his family? Or did you switch to something else, give him a break? 

“Thank you for trusting me.” When you reached for him then, he didn’t pull away. His mask cracked and a few pieces fell away, but he held the rest steady. “That’s enough for now, okay? If you have more questions, I’ll answer them. Gladly. But you’ve shared enough, okay?” When he studied you, you didn’t let him proceed with his usual scrutiny. “It’s fine, Daryl. We can talk more when—if—you ever want to again. You don’t need to tell me anything else.”

He accepted the out with a long exhale and a nod, his gaze falling away. You embraced the silence and its discomfort, just touching him while he was in a place to allow it. You stroked his cheek, the stubble thicker than usual with his confinement to the bed. You smoothed his hair, scratched gently over his scalp. Finally, you scooted closer and pulled him toward you to meet in the middle. Tangling your legs around his, you guided his head to rest under your chin. He let you without complaint or denial, a testament to how he had silently endured when he needed comforting.

The two of you laid there, his breaths evening out to the point where you thought he had fallen asleep. Then, breaking the silence, he cleared his throat. “Why me?” You pulled back just enough to angle your head and look at him.

“Why you what?”

“Why ya settlin’ with me? We can raise a kid together without you givin’ up a chance with someone better.” He took a deep breath, keeping his head down. “I won’t hold ya to it if ya change your mind later—if someone shows—”

“There’s no one better.” You nearly snapped at him, your tone harsher than you’d ever meant for it to be. He flinched and you instantly hated yourself for it. You’d seen someone’s quick movements earn that reaction before, but words hardly affected Daryl physically, not like that. “Daryl.” You silently pleaded with him to look at you, but were left disappointed. “There’s no one better.” You repeated, so softly that it was almost a whisper, your breath disturbing his hair. “I want to raise this baby with you. I want to be with you. I love you. That’s not gonna change.”

He simply hummed, the sound reverberating against your throat. You wanted to throttle him, but none of his self-deprecation was his fault. You hated people you didn’t even know for it. “Don’t deserve all this.” Your brow furrowed deeply at his words. “Feel like m’gettin’ somethin’ meant for someone else. Like m’takin’—” The words died on the tip of his tongue. What could you even say to that? You could tell him he deserved the world—the fucking universe—but he’d never believe it. You’d just have to show him. It would take time and patience that would likely be tested over and over, but he was worth it.

“You’ll see.” You settled back against him, let silence fall between you again. After a while, he actually did fall asleep, the tension you had noticed in him finally melting away into a restful state he so desperately needed in order to continue getting well. A kiss was pressed into his hair. You never fell asleep yourself, simply lying there with him. Your heart ached yet it was full. With your fingers traveling up and down his back in gentle motions you hoped were comforting even within his dreams, you told him again. “You’ll see.”

Daryl was coughing strenuously by the time you reached the truck, his hand pressed hard against his chest. The cold air, the rush of grabbing up all the bags, the running from the herd—it was taking its toll on his still healing body.

“Keys.” You demanded. “I’m driving.”  You could see it on his face that he was going to argue, but he doubled over in another fit of coughs and deep, wheezing gasps. Digging in his pocket through the ordeal, he tossed you the keyring. The bags you two were responsible for were tossed into the back next to the bike. It took the archer two attempts to pull himself onto the bench seat, which required the effort of both your bodies to move back in order to accommodate your 30 week bump. Just as your door closed, a discolored hand slapped against the window, startling you into a shout.

The van was already moving when you pressed the gas to peel out behind it, mowing down at least three walkers. Dark blood splattered onto the windshield, smearing but mostly washing away when you used the partially frozen fluid and wipers. Daryl’s forehead was against the dashboard as he fought to catch his breath in the chilled air. You were fumbling for the temperature controls when he smacked your hand away.

“Just—just drive. I got it.” He rasped, the warming air filling the cab a moment later. His back thudded against the seat, shaking it slightly, his head falling back against the headrest with his eyes closed. He was finally sucking in gulps of air into irritated, partially healed lungs. When you reached a point that was safe enough to pull off, you would make sure the group remembered his state of health and didn’t travel for too long before finding anything suitable and safe enough for a stay of at least a few days. “Quit your worryin’, woman. M’good.”

“Just don’t, Daryl.” You argued quietly, desperate to keep the peace between the pair of you that you’d managed to create. “Let me worry. If you don’t fight me on it, I’ll be less likely to do something stupid.” You glanced over, finding his head rolled toward you, his jaw set but he relented with a jerk of his head.

“Fine. Just have ‘em find whatever. S’long as it keeps your ass right here beside me.” 

You smiled and silently celebrated your victory, even as he noticed and grumbled beside you. When you placed your hand, palm up, on the seat between you, only a heartbeat passed before you felt him squeezing your fingers.

Roughly eight weeks left, though Hershel said you could safely deliver if you made it at least four more weeks. You were actually becoming slightly miserable. The nausea would come and go, though you actually vomited less and less. Your ankles were missing completely under the puffy skin. Your belly felt so heavy that even just standing was becoming a chore. Lori was sympathetic, constantly giving you advice. Not only you but Daryl as well. You had seen her whispering to him, watched the way he would go completely still, not looking at her but listening intently. Rick could give him all the advice in the world but Lori’s input was crucial. She knew exactly what you needed.

The archer argued with you less and less, though you could see the restraint it took for him to bite his tongue, sometimes literally. He let you hunt with him because you were restless. Lori had said it was because of the urge to start nesting, which you had found amusing, but Daryl already knew about it because of the damn books he continued to snatch up on runs. Why it frustrated you that he was willing to go that extra mile was beyond your comprehension. Maybe because he knew more about what was going on with your body than you did? You should have been grateful, but all you wanted to do was kick him in the shins.

“Can ya just—nevermind.” He grunted from behind you while the two of you tracked some turkeys. You knew they’d be in the trees for the cold weather so you kept your eyes upward, irritating the hunter when you would nearly trip or run into something. Still, he kept his cool, which was admirable for your hot-headed partner. Daryl didn’t like the term boyfriend, you’d discovered during a brief conversation where you’d found your tongue looser than normal and spilling out questions you’d otherwise never ask. The two of you had settled on being partners, though you didn’t feel it was enough to describe your relationship. He had simply shrugged.

You couldn’t hunt with a gun. He’d all but forbade it. Too loud, would draw walkers. So he found you a bow. Not a crossbow but a traditional one. It didn’t take much practice. You only needed to become familiar with the tension of the string, how far to pull for the trajectory and speed needed. Aiming came naturally.

“Shut up, Daryl. I’m fine.” You snapped, instantly muttering an apology. It was but wasn’t his fault you felt so crappy. It took two to make the baby whose little foot or hand or whatever was always pressing into your ribs. You were just as responsible and tried to remember that even when it was you and not him that felt like absolute shit most of the time. As if the world was hellbent on fucking with you, the toe of your boot found its way beneath an exposed root and you nearly faceplanted. If not for Daryl’s constant observance, you surely would have.

He snagged your bicep, dropping his crossbow to reach across your chest and grip your other shoulder. All you needed was a dislocated shoulder when you were already so beyond miserable. He made sure you stayed on your feet, nearly stumbling himself, but saying nothing when you found his irritated but concerned gaze. The weight of it instantly brought on the sniffling you knew was about to lead to a breakdown.

Over the course of only three weeks, the archer had memorized the signs and adapted, learning how to soothe you even at the expense of his own comfort. He immediately pulled you into his arms as close as he could with your ever-growing belly between you, shushing you and rubbing your back. 

“S’alright. I won’t letcha fall.”

Noble as his intentions were, that only seemed to stir up even more guilt. “I don’t know why I can’t just listen when you tell me I should stay behind! Why do you let me just do whatever I want even when you know it’s the wrong choice?!” You rubbed your wet face against his button up, leaving a dark spot and not for the first time.

“Cause you’re hard-headed an’ feelin’ like crap. Only make ya feel worse for me to argue with ya.”

And just like that, the switch flipped. “I’m not hard-headed, Daryl! I’m fucking capable and everyone wants to treat me like I’m gonna break!” You pushed him away roughly and stomped forward, sniffling harder than necessary. You heard a sigh from behind you, the sound of him picking up his crossbow and before following at a distance.

When you shot down the turkey, even beyond the pride you felt carrying it back, something told you that he saw it first but didn’t even raise his weapon.

Carol had heated some water for you so you could wipe down, feeling like your skin was crawling after being in the woods all day. It was a foreign feeling for the leaves and cool, fresh air to feel like it stuck to your flesh and needed to be scrubbed away. You were a mess. Your body hurt and you constantly needed to pee. You were irritable. You’d want Daryl to fuck you one minute and then shove him away the moment he touched the slick apex of your thighs. You were torturing the poor man who didn’t have a clue how to provide the type of comfort you needed when he couldn’t even process how to overcome his own lack of it growing up.

You didn’t hear him enter the room as you bowed over the small sink in the dusty bathroom, your skin still damp beneath your long sleeved shirt and flannel sleep pants. You had washed your hair to the best of your ability, the wet strands forming a curtain around your face that blocked your view of the door. You didn’t startle when you felt the heat of his body behind you. It was familiar at that point in a way you couldn’t explain.

“I’m so sorry, Daryl.” You whispered, the syllables of his name coming out as a soft whimper. His hands settled on your hips, fingers flexing nervously.

“S’okay.” He stepped closer and you fully expected to feel his erection press against your ass, but that wasn’t the case. There was only the firm safety of his body, your human security blanket. “Wanna—can I try somethin’?” His voice shook beside your ear but his hands remained steady, digits still squeezing and releasing. Not trusting your voice, you nodded, his exhale warm against your neck.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t his warm palms sliding beneath your belly and lifting with more gentleness than you were aware a human being could possess. The absence of the weight pulling down was an instant relief, your muscles turning to jello. You leaned back against him and he kept you upright, silently offering you comfort and succor that your body didn’t even know it needed.

“Fuck.” You breathed, eyes fluttering closed and head laying back against his shoulder. The tears came when his lips pressed against your temple, wordlessly expressing his gratitude for what you were enduring. “Thank you.” Your own appreciation trembled over your lips, whether toward the man at your back or a god you weren’t sure you believed in for putting him there.

[spidergutz-writes]

What are some fluff hcs that you have for any and all of your handsome boys?? How would you spend a day with them? What are dates each of them would take you on?

meadow! Your spoiling me with all these delicious and amazing ideas!!

I’ll actually probably make this in 2 or 3 parts just so I can fit all mah bois :) (if requested, I will also add in some of my favorite gals!)

RED GUY:

Hand holding to the max!!

could be watching the most horrific thing unfold infront of him, and his hand would still be slotted in with yours

making dinner? He’s holding your hand.

watching tv? He’s holding your hand.

sleeping? Yup, he’s holding your hand!

he's a very shameless person when it comes to the softer things in your relationship

will not hesitate to pull you into his lap for cuddles.

also won’t hesitate to cling to you on every part of the day.

your cooking? Well so is he, now.

he loves cooking with you. It’s just so…normal.

normality is not something he experiences a lot, so even when you two are doing simple and mundane things, he enjoys it to the fullest :)

bro's sense of humor is so bad, but it gets to the point where it’s so ungodly terrible, that it becomes funny.

“Hey...what do you call a prisoner walking downstairs?”

“i dunno..What do ya call 'em?”

“..a CONDESCENDING… :D”

he thinks he’s funny, so please laugh :((

dates include him and you cooking a dessert of some sort.

his favorite is making apple cobbler pie with you :3

often you’ll end up with flour hand prints on your ass and some whipped cream on your nose.

he's just a silly guy doing silly things with his ooohh sooo silly partner!!

-----------------------------

JIN BUBAIGAWARA: (what? He dies? No. No he doesn’t. Not here. He lives. That’s the reality we have here. Deal with it. Go argue with the wall idc.)

my sweet sweet baby boy. Where should I start?

okay, before he overcomes his trauma:

Took his mask off infront of you once, and now he can’t stop.

hes addicted to how you kiss his scar

how you coo at him and tell him he’s so handsome 🥺

Will fight for you if it’s serious. He’s still scared he’s a clone :((

will stand up for you tho

anyone says anything bad about you? He’s cursing them out while his alter ego is making weirdly terrifying threats.

”YOU GOT SOMETHING TO SAY, HUH?” “I hope you sleepwalk into oncoming traffic...” “DONT YOU FUCKIN SAY ANYTHING ABOUT MY PARTNER” “I hope everyone you love leaves you.…”

Dates consist of you two sitting on top of rooftops while having a picnic. Talking shit, cuddling, and eating.

you two end up falling asleep in each others arm a lot, admiring the sunset or the moon.

he is a human heating pad. Like seriously. You don’t need a blanket when he’s around

Loves lying on his back with you laying on his chest :)

is a little shy :(

Thinks you don’t want others to know you two are a thing :(((

but when you hold his hand in public or in front of the league? He melts.

When you first kissed his lips over the mask in public? He cried a little

tears of joy :)

can’t cook for shit. That man burns water.

don’t ask me how, but you tasked him to make breakfast one morning, and a fire broke out.

there was also mayonnaise on your ceiling. Again, don’t ask, not even he knows.

--------------

Simon Riley "Ghost" (this motherfucker doesn't die either. if anyone tells me otherwise, meet me at the Arby's parking lot at 6, BECAUSE I WILL FIGHT YOU)

oh my lawdy lawd. he is just SO FINE, WHERE DO I EVEN START??

this man has issues. he's really touch starved, but doesn't know how to accept any light touches.

he might shy away from your light advancements, because he's so used to any physical bringing harm or ill intent towards him.

but when you kiss his cheek, and hug his (slutty) little waist, he folds like a lawn chair on a hot summer day.

will scream, cry, throw up, roll on the ground, and promptly die if you ever serve him tea in a bowl (the French do this.)

likes to go to the gym with you. he loves to see you work out iykwim.

Ghost has never been a man for soft things, but he Isn't Ghost with you. With you, he's Simon Riley, a man who longs to have a sense of normalcy, a man who wants to take you out to nice restaurants, and a man who wants to bend down on one knee for you, and ask that burning question that lays in the back of his mind 24/7

he wants to do all of those things, but its going to take time. his insecurities tell him you deserve a man who can do more for you, but as always, you wash those thoughts away for him.

for now, his dates consist of concealed places, like the safety of either his, or your home, where he can take off his mask, safely. sitting, watching movies, drinking wine or scotch, and cuddling.

He's a big advocate on "actions speak louder than words" so he doesn't say "I love you" too often, but when he does say it? you better get the tissues. because he only says it during a really vulnerable moment of his, like when he's calming down from a PTSD induced flashback, or a panic attack, or when its late, in the middle of the night, when he knows its just him and his demons awake, with you sleeping soundly in his arms.

believe it or not, THIS MAN CAN COOK-

listen, i know he's British, and i know he's in the military, but that man just radiates "I'll make you a five star meal before i snap your neck"

he is a god when it comes to making steak. give him a basic ass steak, some spices, and a few other side ingredients and he'll give you a true taste of heaven. A taste of heaven from a man from hell.

we love him all the same though <3

--------------

holy fucking hell this took WAY too long, and I took some extra time on Ghosts.

as always, any type of constructive criticism is appreciated, no matter how harsh or small it is <3

[alphaketoglutaricacid]

man im glad kabru put his sword down n acknowledged hes no good w monsters. He hurt himself so much trying to be a person hes not… dying over n over again… becoming so good at killing people in the service of that goal n it gets him no closer to it… and i dont think dungeon life is actually what he wants either… he had such a miserable time but i feel the people he met…was the journey. Maybe. I think theres something moving about him venturing out n meeting ppl from all walks of life.

And a life of many more…and i may be about to do a horrific misreading but i always thought part of the reason kabru got namari n toshiro to go w him instead of his own party was trying to keep em outta harms way esp rin. But in turn he cut himself off of his closest connections while interacting w ppl who bring up really bitter memories for him. Man kabru n rins relationship… they dont love each other in the same way but u can tell theyre always thinking of each other. Like interacting w the canaries is hard for him. But also on another level he may have taken them bc they do in fact live up to his idealized version of ppl who can effortlessly slay monsters n its something he knows he lacks. But idk if being good at slayin monsters particularly helped in the end of that situation tho it was good to have a few ppl good at it on retainer. Kinda bummed they cut out of a lot of kabrus interactions w namari and shuro bc i do find them interesting in the short moments they interact. Thats the b team (w mithrun acting as the antag of it so he flits in and out)

Like kabru has a moment of vulnerability in telling his own story to them honestly. It was hard for him. And if they cut out namaris genuine moment of unconditional kindness when she reaches out for kabru while everyones trampling over each other and hes having a ptsd moment ill be at their doors. I think it was a pretty vital moment in reminding him why he feels so strongly abt autonomy. I feel kabru very rarely gets acknowledged for his kindness often no string attached. N ppl are much quicker to note hes manipulative n a charmer but i think some of these moments he just likes listening to ppl some of whom have never been listened to in their lives…. Its sad how much kabrus willing to accommodate others n give em grace n yet he wont give it to himself : ( But also that those two were genuinely moved by his moment of vulnerability and even tho theyre mainly there for their frat bro allegiance towards laios where theyre like idc if he did that #freemyman, i do think what pushed them over the threshold is thinking about what he said about the elves trampling everyone and how they trampled over this delicate infrastructure ppl built for their livelihood . I like to think their lil turn everyone against the canaries was them pouring one out for him. Carry his dream on a little bit longer bc they dunno if he survived. I found it like aw. That all his like kabrus been trying to carry a mountain on his back, trying so hard to be a manipulative charming person to that end, but he can move ppl just as he is. By being open n vulnerable .

the last survivor of utaya… but is just surviving enough? Think its good he makes a new home in melani so that he can move onto the next part of his life while keeping every place hes ever been close. A dungeon that wiped out all life. A dungeon that created a new one

[punsmaster69]

19/OCT/20XX

at some ungodly hour, i woke up on the couch, papyrus sitting beside me.

i tried to get to the kitchen and snag something from the fridge without waking him, but he hopped up the second i set foot in the kitchen.

"...'sup, paps. sorry to wake you."

"HOW ARE YOU FEELING?"

"i'm good. pretty hungry, though."

"I'M GOING TO TAKE IT THAT YOUR LACK OF PUPILS IS.. NOT INTENTIONAL."

"...what?"

"they're gone?"

closed, open.

open, closed.

"nothing?"

"THEY'RE STILL GONE."

"..literally knocked my lights out, huh? weird."

"CAN YOU SEE ALRIGHT?"

"vision's the same."

in the light of the fridge, i could see him anxiously fidgeting.

"i feel fine, so you should go back to sleep."

"just gonna eat and then.."

"..well. can't say i'm very tired anymore, so i guess i'll just hang out. watch tv or something."

"I.."

"I'M NOT TIRED, EITHER!"

"..SO, I'LL ALSO JUST HAVE TO 'HANG OUT' ."

"ok. you want me to grab you anything while i'm here?"

he shook his head.

paps quietly observed me the whole time, but i don't know what for.

kept opening his phone, typing to someone.

"who else is up at this hour to be responding to you?"

"ALPHYS HAS YET TO FALL ASLEEP."

"wanna see if she wants to hang out too? that way we can all be nighttime losers together."

"..EXCLUDING THE LOSERS PART, A SLEEPLESS SLEEPOVER SOUNDS HELPFUL!"

"helpful?"

"FUN. I MEANT FUN."

——

"heya."

"Hey-"

"EEK!!"

"Wh-why are your eyes off?!"

"dunno. woke up with 'em stuck."

"HELLO ALPHYS!"

"Hi, Papyrus."

they exchanged a series of looks whose meanings were lost on me.

"..so whenever you're done with the staring contest, there's blankets here for you, alphys.

"Oh- um, yeah. S-sorry. Thanks, Sans."

——

"ARE THERE REALLY BEINGS UP THERE IN THE SKY??"

"This is show is (very) fake, Papyrus."

"REALLY?"

"what, you don't believe in aliens?"

"I do! What I 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 believe is that they'd visit Earth to draw circles in farmland and steal cows."

"WHY WOULD THEY NEED SO MANY?"

"Exactly!"

"Totally ridiculous."

"maybe they wanna make their own farm."

"But why the crop circles?"

"i'm not one to judge someone's artistic medium."

"What meaning do those hold??"

"PERHAPS THEY ARE SUGGESTING THAT LIFE IS BUT A CIRCLE THAT LOOPS ENDLESSLY."

"........."

"that's crazy talk."

"YEAH, YOU'RE RIGHT."

"CIRCLES ARE PROBABLY JUST THEIR FAVORITE SHAPE!"

"I guess that could be true."

"Still, weird place for it."

"maybe they buried treasure."

"THAT'S CRAZY TALK, TOO!!"

"All of this is crazy to begin with."

"true."

——

tori called me, hearing from papyrus that i was awake now.

we got off-topic quickly.

"i think my shirt has a hole in it."

"Would you like for me to lend you another one?"

"...i'll just sew it at some point."

"Hehe, okay. If you say so."

"What a shame, I was looking forward to finding the most embarrassing thing in my closet for you."

"the previous time was intentional?"

"..No! I do not know why you would ever think that."

"i feel less bad about that skeleton-hand shirt, now."

"What a shame it is for you, that I like it so much."

"I have been wearing it to bed as pajamas, since it is not quite appropriate for my little ones to see."

"probably for the best."

if flowey saw it.. my cause of death might suddenly change from 'unknown illness' to 'botany accident'.

"You are sounding a lot less drained today."

"Are you feeling better now?"

"yeah, way better."

"I am glad to hear that."

"Is your eye feeling better, as well?"

"they, uh, don't hurt, anymore...?"

"But, something is different?"

"....."

"nah. they're all good."

"Sans..."

"...."

"If they are 'all good' as you say, you would not mind turning on your camera, would you?"

i stared at the enable camera button on my phone.

it stared back.

"i'm.."

"naked."

"totally bones out-"

"Sans."

"ribs in the open air-"

"𝘚𝘢𝘯𝘴."

"You mentioned your shirt a mere moment ago."

"So unless simply talking to me over the phone was enough to make you strip..."

"Please show me your eyes."

damn it.

"...Please, uncover the camera."

"it's not covered. must be broken."

".........."

the disappointment was loud. i slid my finger off the camera.

"it-"

"this doesn't hurt, at all."

"my sight still works, and-"

"Does that not hinder your ability to express emotion?"

"like i did much of that."

"Sans, a monster's ability to express themselves is one of the most important things they could lose."

"they'll come back. i'll survive without 'em for a while."

"Have you tried doing it manually?"

"like...?"

"Can you use magic to return your pupils?"

"i-"

"Please, just try."

"....ok."

𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸,

....

𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸.

"......"

"anything?"

"Yes!"

"..huh."

had a slight ache in my skull before, but it felt like it got a little better all of a sudden.

"Without your pupils, you have quite the threatening energy about you."

"oh. ..yeah."

"It is nice to see your expressions again!"

"...."

"guess i'll keep doing this, then."

"There is nothing else I should be concerned about, is there?"

"that's it."

"It is easier to tell whether you are being truthful or not!"

"nevermind. i'm turning 'em off."

"Do not!"

"don't need an automatic lie detector on my face."

"It is so nice to see you look my way."

"..if you turned on your camera, i'd have more to look at."

".....Then, give me just a moment."

after about a minute, she returned.

"I apologize. I had to find some pants."

"n-"

"no worries."

tori turned on her camera.

i waited in anticipation as it loaded.

her fur was slightly ruffled, which she also said sorry for.

"I hope you do not mind too much."

"not- not at all. it's cu-"

"uh, looks. looks good."

"You are also looking good, for a skeleton sitting in bed right now."

"thanks. guess that's why they call it beauty sleep."

"It must be!"

——

she stared at me intently, as if trying to memorize my features.

"you're not gonna forget me that quickly, right?"

"Forgetting you would not be easy. I simply wish to have your image as fresh as possible in my mind."

"..You cannot stare back!"

"why not?"

"I am appreciating your candid face."

"...it's hard to stay that way when you're looking at me like that."

tori leaned even closer to the phone.

i covered the camera.

"Awww."

"I suppose I should go back to sleep now, anyway."

"Good night, Sans."

"goodnight, tori."

"....."

"I care for you very much. Please be safe."

"i ..care for you, too."

i stared at the blank phone screen for a while, replaying the call in my mind.

my soul felt like it was gonna jump out of my chest.

eventually gathering myself, i reentered the living room to join papyrus and alphys.

[fuckin-sick-bih]

Tattoos and Tissues pt 3!

Fandom: Stranger Things Summary: No Upside Down. Tattoo Artist and Florist AU. Eddie goes to Steve's place to take care of his florist boyfriend who has fallen ill. CW: Mess, inducing, stuffy talk, illness, mentions of erections and adult themes/kink, Steve has the kink and Eddie likes indulging Word Count: 4.3k Author Note: I did it! I finished it! I finished a fic! Holy fuck! No one ever let me do this again... I am absolutely going to do this to myself again no questions, I just suck at pacing myself lmao. Honestly, the first draft was WAY more Adult lol But also I don't want this to be the end of this AU. I just don't wanna do another 3-part fic, I wanna do little mini fics or drabbles if ideas happen tbh. Regardless, enjoy. I am aware not all things resolve, but hey that's why it can be something cute and small and on-going, right? Eddie - bold Steve - Italics MINORS DNI

whats your address?

What? Why?

because i come baring gifts, Harrington. address, please, so i can figure out where the hell im going im so lost

413 Building D Maple Glen Apartments just off Terrace Street. I’ll buzz you in, just come up to the fourth floor, and I’ll be poking my head out.

When Eddie showed up at Building D of Maple Glen Apartments and saw he had four flights of stairs to climb, he decided he was going to strangle Steve instead of nurse him back to health. He adjusted the bags of goodies for Steve in his hands and began the climb up to the fourth floor. The top floor, of course. 

As he reached the top and exited the stairwell, he spotted Steve poking his head into the hallway as promised. Sure, Eddie was panting, but Steve looked wrecked. There were dark circles under his eyes, his nose was bright cherry red at the tip and rims, and the rest of his face was pale. 

“Jesus H. Christ, you weren’t kidding… You really are sick, huh?” Eddie said in a soft, somewhat concerned tone as he approached Steve.

The other’s pale cheeks seemed to flush up a dark shade of red at Eddie’s words. “What id the world are you doi’g here, Eddie?” Steve asked in a congested and raspy voice that made Eddie wince in sympathy for his throat. 

Instantly, Eddie went digging in his bags for the bag of cough drops. “Please suck on one of those, Harrington. Talking sounds like it hurts. And they’ve got menthol-y stuff in ‘em. It’ll help your nose, c’mon lemme in.” He shoulders his way into Steve’s apartment before the other can stop him. 

“Eddie!” Steve rasped out before turning away from the other to cough harshly into his arm. “You dod’t wadt to be id here, you’ll get s-siiih… IXXGH’T! Sick.” There had been just enough time for Steve’s hand to shoot up and pinch his nose to stifle what sounded like a powerful and still just barely restrained sneeze. It made Eddie wince to think how it must have hurt his ears. 

There was a scoff from the curly-haired tattoo artist, who was already unpacking his bag of goodies on the nearby countertop. At the same time, Steve shut the door, not protesting anymore. “Bless you and puhhh-lease. I don’t get sick, Steve. Munson Constitution. Allergies? Yes. Sick? No. I can’t even remember the last time I was sick. Wait-” He frowned as he tried to dig up the memory. “I think it was like 8th grade? And I had the flu? I dunno; Uncle Wayne came home to me curled up asleep in the empty tub with a fever. He couldn’t find me for like twenty minutes.” 

There was a mildly concerned but still somewhat fond smile on Steve’s face. “You’re a bess, Budsod.” He sniffled thickly and grabbed a tissue from the box beside the couch where it looked like Steve had taken up residence. A nest of blankets, a pillow from his bed, crumpled tissues surrounding the nest, and a few empty water bottles. “But seriously, you should go. Robid high-tailed it out of here to Dadcy’s the seco’d she heard I was sick.”

“All the more reason for me to stay!” Eddie chirped, stepping back to show Steve the menagerie of sick supplies he’d brought. “Not that you need a babysitter, and if you seriously wanna be left alone to your misery, I get it, but…” He side-stepped a little closer to bump their shoulders together. “I never liked being alone while sick.” He admits softly.

The little bump made Steve’s lips twitch, and Eddie counted it as a win. Then Steve moved forward to have a look at the supplies. “Jesus, you didd’t have to get b’me all this…”

Eddie pats Steve on the back as he moved with him, eyes scanning over the cold/flu meds, a couple cans of chicken noodle soup, some bottles of Gatorade, the cough drops he’d mentioned earlier, and even- “Those fucking dissolvable shower disks are evil, Harrington. That’s your treat if you’re a good boy and take your meds, deal?” He said with a smirk growing on his face now.

A sputtering noise from Steve turned into a coughing fit almost right away, bad enough that Eddie was rubbing his back through the end of it. “W-What the hell does that bead?” He choked out, eyes wide. “If they’re evil thed, why did you bri’g theb?”

A laugh escaped Eddie, who was now taking Steve’s hands to guide him back to the couch, settling the sick man down to wrap him back up in blankets. “Because they work and because you will probably love it.” He said playfully and hesitated momentarily, trying not to overthink it before pressing his lips to Steve’s forehead. “Not warm.” He whispered softly.

Steve let out an almost shuddering-sounding sigh like he was just happy to be touched. To be taken care of for once. They’d only started getting to know each other but had been texting a bit. With all those teens he babysat, Eddie could believe it. Between work, babysitting, and probably taking care of things at the apartment with his roommate… when did Steve get time to care for himself? No wonder he got sick, Eddie thought. 

“What do you say to some daytime cold meds, a cough drop, some Gatorade, and I’ll heat you up a can of soup in a bit?” Eddie asked Steve softly, running his fingers delicately through the other man’s messy bedhead. It was as if Steve was a cat, utterly leaning into the touch despite how sick he must feel with how he looked. 

There was a nod from Steve, so Eddie took that to mean go ahead with his plan. “Kinda glad to see you keep work at work.” He admits to Steve in a casually playful way while grabbing Steve a Gatorade and some pills. “Would’ve sucked if we were both sneezing our heads off- bless you, by the way.”

As Eddie spoke, Steve’s face had been going slowly slacker, and his eyes were unfocused in a classic pre-sneeze hang-up. “Ixx’TSH! IXGh’t! Oh god… I’b dot godda be able to stifle those buch lo’ger…” Steve mutters with a much soupier-sounding sniffle than Eddie expected for some pretty well-stifled sneezes. 

Nevertheless, Eddie pulled his bandana from his back pocket and swatted Steve with it before offering it out to him. “Here. Stop stifling then, jackass. Didn’t see me stifling for you, hm?” He pointed out, handed over the meds and drink, and gestured to the cough drops. “Try one. It’ll feel good on your throat and help your congestion.” 

Steve caught the bandana and gave Eddie an appreciative smile for the soft fabric against his nose. “Ugh, fide if it gets you to shut up.” He teased, punctuated by a weak cough after downing the meds. Then he grabs a menthol lozenge. After popping it into his mouth, Steve’s eyebrows raise. “I was expecti’g that to taste worse… cad defiditely still taste the bedthol…” He admits with a slight sniffle.

“Sorry… what were you sayi’g earlier?” Steve asked with another little sniffle as he settled on the couch, pressing the bandana to his nose some more. There’s the slightest flush that wasn’t there a little bit ago. Eddie would’ve remembered if it had been there or not. It’s too cute, barely spreading over his cheekbones and nose tip. 

Eddie was knocked out of his daydreaming by remembering he had to answer Steve. “Huh? Oh- thanking you for your lack of plants. That’s all.” He jokes and shakes his head. “It’s stupid, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad to get a break from being the sneezy one.” He teased.

A quiet, albeit raspy, chuckle escapes Steve while he sucks on the lozenge. “Ab I givi’g you a rud for you b-buhh…bodey yet? Or do I deed to snff let byself sdeeze bore for that?” With all the stopping to sniffle and how his nose seemed to be tickling, Eddie got the idea the menthol in the lozenge was working on Steve’s sinuses. 

“Well, I think you’re doomed to sneeze more soon either way, big boy.” Eddie teased as he watched the other man’s expression fall again into that pre-sneeze desperation. 

Still, Steve seemed to want to deny himself release. “D-D’noh idea… w-whhaahat you bead, Eds-” His breath was beginning to hitch dangerously now, coming closer and closer to its inevitable crescendo. 

Eddie took Steve’s hands, “Don’t stifle, Steve… just sneeze. It’s okay.” He urged the other, getting the feeling it was far more than just a matter of Steve not wanting to spread germs. Like he was still embarrassed and shy.

“Oh, okaaehh-! AeISHHue! HeiiISHhuh! Ngh- Ugh… Oh fuck. Still tickles.” Steve admits, scrunching and wriggling his nose in all sorts of ways Eddie found altogether too damn endearing. 

Eddie rolled his eyes and dropped down onto the couch with Steve. “Come here, sniffles.” And he can plainly see that has an effect on Steve from where he sits now. Steve’s breath catches, and there’s the slightest tent to the front of his Hawkins High Swim Team gray sweatpants. Whoever designed those pants for the swim team, Eddie could kiss them. “Oh, you like that?” He purred.

A shaky sort of breath left Steve, but Eddie wasn’t quite sure if it was from being teased or still needing to sneeze. Though Steve moved a bit closer, his eyes were watering a little now with the irritation that wouldn’t budge. “O-oh god, cobe o-ohhhih-!” Even with as desperate of a hitch as it sounded, Steve still faltered into sniffles and groaned. 

The curly-haired man looked at Steve with an exceptionally soft pout, one of distinct sympathy. “You want some help with that? Seriously, that looks like torture.” He tilted his head when Steve sniffled, and his eyes widened at Eddie’s offer. 

“I’b sorry, what’d you just ask, b’me?” Steve asked, like he wasn’t sure if he was hearing correctly. He was still rubbing his nose against the cuff of his hoodie; Eddie wasn’t sure if he was encouraging or fighting off the tickle anymore. 

Eddie raised a brow at Steve in confusion, “Do you need help with that stuck sneeze? You’re starting to look more miserable than me peak allergy season, Stevie.” He teased, watching as the other continued staring at him like a deer in headlights until it clicked for Eddie, and he had his lightbulb moment. “Wait! Does that turn you on?” He asked, sounding utterly delighted to have figured out how to get Steve going to the point where he was nearly speechless.

Instantly, Steve was sputtering, and it caused a few coughs to escape him. “Oh by god, you cad’t just say thi’gs like that to b’me, Eds…” He complained, leaning back against the couch to tip his head back while rubbing at his nose some more. “Fuck… ugh, bay- maehh… hehih-!” And once again, Eddie watched him wind up, only for nothing to happen. 

“Sooo…?” Eddie prompted and gave a vague wave of his hand as if gesturing Steve to continue. 

It was truly remarkable how red Steve’s face could flush, Eddie thought as he watched the lighter brunette make the internal debate. “Fide. Jesus, we practically flirt all the tibe adyway.” He reached forward to snatch a tissue, twisting the corner into a point.

Eddie’s brows furrowed as he watched in utter confusion while Steve strangled the tissue. “Okay, I gotta ask… what the fuck are you doing?” 

“I’b- ihhih… ugh, I’b baki’g sobethi’g for you to i’duce b’me.” He explained before handing the tissue, now twisted to a neatly pointed tip, over to Eddie. “Probably wod’t get bore thad ode use out of it because I’b all coldish, but iihh-! it should do the trick.”

After accepting the new tool, Eddie turned to face Steve more as he started to get the idea. “Ohh, I think I get it. Okay. Never actually thought to use a tissue like this, honestly.” He admits before smirking a little. This was Steve’s kink, and well… he wanted to perform for him a little. Make it fun for him. 

He trails the very tip of the twisted-up tissue end over the tip of Steve’s red nose and watches as his nostrils flare in response to even just that. “Jesus, someone’s sensitive.” It was just a stray comment. Sometimes, Eddie couldn’t keep his mouth shut, but judging by how Steve’s hips suddenly squirmed, he really enjoyed it. 

A grin split across Eddie’s face, and he suddenly moved to straddle Steve’s lap, “Think I need a better position for this, don’t you, sweetheart?” he asked teasingly and winked at his boyfriend, who was now bright red as he looked up at him. Eddie eased down to sit more in Steve’s lap, which caused the other man to groan softly. 

“Sure, E-Eddie…” Steve stuttered out, but this time, it clearly had nothing to do with his sensitive nostrils that Eddie was already getting back to teasing. “You cad go i-ihhh idside…” 

That made the darker-haired man raise his brows in mild surprise, but he nodded, gently slipping the tip of the tissue into Steve’s nose. He gently twirled the tissue curiously, which had Steve instantly gasping beneath him, and Eddie’s dick twitched at just how powerful he felt for a brief moment.

The twirl seemed to do the trick because Steve’s nostrils flared out, and his eyes fluttered closed with another desperate, hitching breath. Eddie’s hand shot back with the tissue still clutched between his fingers, the twisted tip now all damp and limp despite its short adventure. 

“Ihh… IXXTISHHUE!! HEIIISHUE! Uh… Hupt’IISHHuh… ugh oh by god…” Steve groaned out after the sneezes. The first two burst forth with a sudden intensity Eddie hadn’t been expecting at all. The lighter-haired brunette hastily grabbed a tissue to press to his face, cleaning himself up while a blush spread across his neck and cheeks. “Fuck that’s so e’barassi’g.” He whispered, but Eddie could feel Steve’s erection pressing firmly against him. 

The ease with which Eddie could get Steve so hard he was pressing up against him like that even while he was under the weather was borderline intoxicating. It didn’t matter that Steve had snapped right forward to sneeze, the spray misting briefly against Eddie’s forearm and stomach.

“Bless you, hey… it’s alright. You’re sick; gotta get that gunk outta you. Maybe a shower with one of those disks would be a good idea, actually… clear out some of that congestion, huh?” He offered and grabbed Steve another tissue to replace the one he’d just about soaked through by now.

Little, congested snuffles were coming from Steve constantly as Eddie sat back in his lap to let him tend to his leaking nose. “Baybe…” Steve relented a little, still seeming shy, and wiped away the tears at the edges of his eyes from sneezing. His sinuses were so utterly full it was hard not to tear up with every sneeze. “What uh… what exactly do they eved do? Dever really tried theb before.”

At that, Eddie perked up and grinned at Steve before moving out of his lap. “Oh, you’re gonna love this- c’mon, sniffles. Let’s get you in the nice warm shower with one of those disks then.” He slid backward off of Steve’s lap carefully. He offered his hands to pull him up, ensuring Steve was steady on his feet before grabbing one of said shower disks and being led to the bathroom. 

The bathroom was admittedly a little small for two people. Eddie wasn’t sure how Steve and his roommate managed it, but he went about getting the disk out of the packaging. Of course, the moment the menthol scent hit him, his eyes watered, and his nose prickled, making him pause to rub roughly at it with his hand.

A sudden hand on his arm made him pause, blinking over at Steve, who was looking at him with a concerned expression. “I cad oped it?” He offers softly, but Eddie takes a moment to look at him. Steve looks exhausted and sick, sure, but his pupils are wide and lust-blown. That hard-on from the couch is still half-present and painfully evident in those gray sweatpants, too.

“I got it, sweethhheart.” Eddie assures, wiggling the disk as his own breath tries to hitch, and he lets it for once. In fact, Eddie sniffs slightly, which only irritates his sensitive nose more, so his nostrils twitch and flare. “Told you… you’ll l-love.. thhhh… hEXZT’Shiew! Whew! Okay. You’ll love these.” And without another moment to waste, Eddie sets the little disk in the shower for Steve with a wink. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

Finally, Eddie sees Steve’s unfiltered reaction to one of his sneezes, similar to in the library. It was as if the poor man had completely bluescreened briefly before rebooting. Pupils wide and lust blown as he stared at Eddie, who still rubbed his nose. “Uh… yeah, so just… shower like dorbal?” he asked with another soupy sniffle and began to pull off his shirt, already starting to shiver.

Suddenly, Eddie’s throat felt dry as Steve began undressing with him in the bathroom, and he nodded. “Yep. That’s the idea. It’ll dissolve, and the scent will help clear out your sinuses. Want me to go sit on the couch and wait?” 

With his pants still on, Steve was reaching forward to crank the water as hot as it would go, still sniffling. “Uhm… ki’da… ki’da dizzy actually? Could you baybe like… keep close? Id case I deed you?” There was a quiet plea in Steve’s voice, the request coming out awkward and stunted like he wasn’t used to asking for help. 

Something in it tugged on Eddie’s shriveled heart, and he looked up at Steve with a soft expression. “Yeah, Stevie. I can stay. I’ll turn around so you can strip and get in, deal? Deal.” He agreed, tucking himself into the corner by the sink to stare at the wall. There was a good deal of shuffling behind him before he heard the shower curtain and the spray of water finally being interrupted. 

The menthol scent from the shower disk was already making Eddie’s nose twitch and tingle, so he closed the toilet seat lid, going to sit down on it. “Remember what I said earlier? We’re trying to get that gunk out of you, man. Trust me when I say I’m not gonna judge you or anything. Seriously, I’m sure you’ll get to see me peak allergy s-seeh-season, and you’ll get it.”

His idle chatter as Steve showered made the man give a quiet grunt. “You sure?” Steve’s voice was tired, nervous, and still congested, but it already sounded a little better than before. 

“P-Positiihh-“ But just as Eddie had been about to respond, his breath hitched dangerously, and his hand flung up to cover his mouth and nose. “IXT’SHiew! Ugh, positive! Sorry, sensitive nose.” Eddie admitted with a little sniffle and scrunched his nose up to try and dispel that tingling sort of itch. It wasn’t like his usual allergic itch, just maddening enough to make his sinuses wonder what was in the air to react to. “Hit’SHZiew! Snf! Motherfucker. It’s supposed to make you sneeze, not me!” 

A laugh escaped Steve, turning into some productive-sounding coughs that had Eddie grimacing in sympathy. “Give m’be a m’bidute, dod’t worry.” He assured, sniffling a little as the shower disk worked its magic while he went through his usual shower routine. 

It was barely a minute later when the bathroom had gone oddly quiet. “Heh… Gonna- HEIKTshuh! HI’TShue! Eh… ET’SHHue! HN’kt!” The last one sounded strange, and Eddie blinked a few times, wondering what in the hell Steve had done to make it sound like that. 

“You good, man?” Eddie checked in softly, almost tempted to peek over the shower curtain just to make sure he wasn’t going to pass out or anything.

A shaky breath left Steve, and Eddie saw one of his hands come up to grab the shower curtain rod for support. “Uh-huh… snff! Yeah, just-” Another little groan came from the lighter brunette, and Eddie felt worry fluttering in his ribcage like a frightened bird. “Dizzy… m’okay. Rad out of breath od that last sdeeze…” 

Something like a little cough slipped out of Steve, and Eddie stood to put a hand on top of Steve’s that had a white knuckle grip on the shower curtain rod. “Maybe it’s time to rinse off and get out, yeah? I’ll get your towel and look away so you can hop out.” He encouraged, already moving, to grab the fluffy maroon towel and hold it open. 

Only a few moments later, Steve sounded like he’d rinsed off, but then there was a soft catch of breath just above the spray before- “HeXT’SHHuh! EXT’SHHUE! Hihh… IXT’SHHuh IT’SHH! Oh by god…” If anything, Steve’s tone sounded exasperated, but the sneezes had sounded productive. “You were right. About the shower disk.” He groaned, and Eddie could hear the shower spray being disrupted again, making him smile a little before the water shut off.

“You’re kind of adorable when you’re sick, y’know that?” Eddie said as he shut his eyes, turning his face as he held out the towel for Steve. “I mean- you’re adorable in general, don’t get me wrong! But like… I dunno, man. I know you can take care of yourself, but I just wanna make sure you’re looked after.” 

There was another brief pause, and the continued silence as he felt Steve press into the towel had Eddie’s anxiety spiking. He wrapped the towel around the other’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze there. As the silence dragged on, Eddie felt a need to fill it, “Sorry, is that weird? I don’t wanna like- infantilize you or anything. I just… I wanna drag you to bed, wrap you in blankets, get you whatever you need until you feel better, y’know?”

“Would you lay with me?” Steve asked suddenly, voice right in front of him, and it shocked Eddie so much that his eyes snapped open. 

In front of him stood Steve. Hair dripping wet still, the towel now around his waist, and droplets of water running down his sinfully pretty chest. A more perverse part of Eddie had the intrusive thought of licking the water off him. Steve still had dark circles under his eyes, but those eyes were bright and pleading. “Of course I will, Stevie. We can get comfy and lay together as long as you want.”

Visibly, Steve’s shoulders relaxed, and he nodded with an almost pleading expression, pulling at his brows and lips. “Yes, please? That sounds- snf! fantastic.” He lifted a towel corner to dab at his sensitive, red nostrils with a bit of a wince. “Ugh, ow.”

With a little purse of his lips, Eddie made a sympathetic noise. “Nose all raw?” he asked, reaching out to open the bathroom door so Steve could lead the way to his bedroom. “I didn’t think to get any Vaseline; sorry, sweetheart.”

“S’okay. This always happens when I get si-ihh…. Ihih-!” Halfway down the short hallway, Steve paused with one hand on the wall as his breath began to hitch and his eyes fluttered. “Oh no come o-ohhhhh-!” Eddie watched as Steve’s hand hovered in front of his face, expression utterly helpless and slack before suddenly exploding. “IX’TSH! HiISHHue! Snf! Ugh- sorry.”

A little chuckle came from Eddie, who just shook his head, “I am the last one you have to go apologizing to for sneezing.” He assured Steve and put a hand on his lower back as he followed him. 

It didn’t take long for Steve to be dressed in some boxers and a sweatshirt since he was cold after his shower. Without even thinking about it, Eddie began pulling off his shirt and sat down on the bed to take off his shoes. The sudden sensation of fingers against his back made Eddie jump a little, and his head whipped around to find Steve tracing the dice tattoos along his spine. 

“Like what you see, Harrington?” Eddie asked in amusement as he finally kicked off his shoes to lie down beside Steve. He wiggled out of his dark pants, which got tossed to the floor as well, leaving him in boxers. Most of his upper half was covered in tattoos at this point. 

Some kind of sleepy slight hum came out of Steve, slightly congested again but not enough to hamper his speech yet. “They’re pretty. Your tattoos. Did you do them yourself?” He asked curiously, and his hand now strayed curiously over the large moth just below Eddie’s sternum. 

Eddie adjusted himself to get the blankets wrapped around them both, making sure Steve was tucked in properly before tossing the blankets over his legs. “Some smaller ones, yeah. Because I’m an idiot. Don’t tattoo yourself, Stevie. I mean it.” There’s amusement and a warning, but he leans to press his lips to Steve’s forehead again. Both checking his temperature and enjoying the simple intimacy. “Chrissy did a lot of them. Gareth, one or two, actually.”

This time, the hum from Steve was more distant, and when Eddie looked, he saw the other man was nearly asleep, tucked against him. “Get some rest, sleeping beauty. You need it. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Taking a deep, slow breath, Steve let out a long and decidedly sleepy sigh through his mouth. His nose was still a little too congested for such things. “Promise? You won’t leave?”

Something physically hurt inside Eddie to think once upon a time; Steve might’ve been in a similar spot, vulnerable and left completely alone when he didn’t want to be. “I’ll be here. I promise.” Eddie moved his hand to find one of Steve’s, interlocking their pinkies so he could squeeze the other man’s tight before bringing it up to kiss his knuckles. “I’m here, Steve.”

The reassurance was all he needed. Steve was out like a light, soft little congested snores sounding against Eddie’s shoulder as they cuddled beneath the blankets in the cozy queen-sized bed. And really… Eddie couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be. 

[svgvru]

would you do gojo cumming in his gf'a (whose also a teacher) panties cuz he wants to see her all wiggly 'n uncomfy. not bc it feels weird but bc she actually wants it in her. ?

✮ THIRSTIN' OVER...SATORU! your boyfriend who just had to masterbate with your panties this morning. and he had to be loud n make it known so early in the morning as the both of you (are supposed to be) prepare for your class in the next few minutes. you'd chastise him, ignoring the ache in your lower stomach from the sight of him. tip an angry red and oozing cum into the inner fabric of the panties you had laid out to wear after your shower. "'m sorry, baby. but you looked too good!" "wear 'em f'me? pretty please with a cherry on top!" he adds a little extra pop! to the end of his words as he begs to you wear the panties in his hand, now lined with cum. and after minutes of annoying you, you reluctently agree. "fine! okay okay."

you muffled a whimper by biting your when you slip them on, feeling his warm cum press against your pussy. and with the confidence you'd be able to handle it, you left with satoru to teach your students. and in the passing minutes you grew less confident. it spilled over the edge of your panties when you rubbed your thighs together to relieve the tension you were feeling. you lost it when you went to move and you felt it stick to thighs and now wet folds. you didn't want it on you, you wanted it in you. and you could hear the white-haired idiot snickering while he watches you suffer from the corner of his eye. and the second your students were on break you ran walked with a purpose to satoru.

"bathroom, now." satoru finds it funny how commanding you could be as if you wouldn't be drooling over his cock later. and that's exactly what happened. your cheek is pressed to the wall of one of the bathroom stalls with fat tears streaming down your face. one of your hands desperately clamping around your mouth to prevent the screams you were letting out to be heard by anyone else. although, by the obnoxious clapping of his hips to your ass, anyone would understand what was happening. his large hands were holding one of your legs up, the other gripping your hips tightly as he slams into your inviting pussy. your gummy walls grip him like a vice while he fucks you. your panties simply pushed to the side and clit swollen from his balls slapping against it.

"missed this, sweetheart?" he laughs, not being quiet about his moans whatsoever. "wan' me to cum in ya, huh? that's why you pulled me in here, so desperate to be filled up?" he's not really asking. he knows thats exactly why you "commanded" him to come to the bathroom, your desperate nods only fueled his drive to fill you up. maybe even give you a baby. "i'll fill ya up, baby don't worry," he coos as if he isn't balls deep in your stomach. that coil in your stomach starts to tighten again, your previous orgasm dripping down yours and gojo's thighs. "ngh—aH! fuck, 'toru," the combination of your voice cracking and your pussy gripping his cock as if it'll run away sends him over the edge. he burries himself inside of your cunt, dumping a hefty load in your waiting pussy. a hiss leaves his lips when you cum with him, the both of you panting and coming down from your highs.

"ill fill you up more when we get home."

꒰ n: dunno if i did tis justice. but here ya go! haven't written for a fem reader ina while, this was great practice ty! ꒱

[dramarising-replacement]

Really glad staff clarified some stuff but now im dreading the onslaught of performative teeth-gnashing thats likely going to start flooding the tag from all fandom outrage tourists.. Funny how many of them weren't too active in the FR tag before they had something to be angry about huh. Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll just fuck off back to twitter or discord.... but i doubt it

Anyway, staff has been making some good changes lately. I worry they lurk too much in tags and try too hard to appease the obvious shitstirrers, but aside from them being a bit slow to fix some stuff i feel like it's fairly obvious they want the players to have a decent experience. I get the feeling there's issues with ill-informed management practices and bad time management among the team but that's another topic I guess. Sometimes when you guys talk about 'em you make it sound like they just came in and took a giant shit on your keyboard or something.

I think some of you posting in the main tags need to learn to relax sometimes and stop being so perpetually shriek-angry I dunno lol

[exx-bee]

decided that i probably should just. Sit down and get some canon iterators designed. I had NO ideas for SoS or GW, so that’s why they aren’t here :-) (maybe ill design em soon? dunno)

they’re all inspired by different creatures in the game! some r easier to see than others lol :-]

left to right goes

moon, pebbles, suns, sig, and innocence.

more design rambling and heeadcanons under the cut!

I like to imagine that the Ancients thought that the different critters in the world were cute/funky, and thats why the iterators are designed with beasts in mind. Perhaps even a bit of an apology to the world for ruining the ecosystems slowly- making gods in the image of nature.

Moon is based on an eel lizard :-) i associate her super heavily with water. Moon is the oldest iterator, hence the fact she has a more “clunky” design. If she was Off the String, she would easily be the most durable. Imagine nokia phone. Her puppet is powered by hydraulics. I think that ancients not only used Iterators for solving the Great Problem, but also had specialized iterators for different purposes. I think Moon was, alongside housing Ancients and puzzle solving, proficient with astronomy. She WAS the Ancients space program /hj.

Five Pebbles is based on a Slugcat :-) not only because i find it ironic and funny, but because I think he was a sort of “blank slate” iterator. The ancients that lived in his city were very endeared towards him, and thought his puppet was so cute. This is partly why hes aggressive/neutral to the slugcats in canon. His specialty, alongside Everything Else, was Anthropology. He is the second youngest.

Seven Red Suns is based on a King Vulture. This one is entirely vibe based, (alongside the fact that the first time i ran into a King Vulture was in my Spearmaster run) and i thought they looked cool! Suns was revered by his Ancients, but overall is kinda Stupid Silly. imagine an old man in the body of a 20 year old. Thats Suns. He specialized in bioengineering and biotechnology. It’d be fun if a lot of the biomechanical beasts in game originated from research done in Suns’ city. Suns is the middle child lmao.

No Significant Harassment was a strange one. Mix of a Dropwig, Stowaway, and Miros. Hes like a bug 2 me :-). He was very friendly with his Ancients, and they hated that. His City was abandoned pretty early on, due to the fact that many Ancients found that he wasn’t really taking the Great Problem into account. Sig focused in on communications and exploration. He’s the second oldest.

Unparalleled Innocence is, pretty obviously, based on a Chief Scav. They’re pretty vain and egotistical. They put great effort into making it as Difficult as Possible for Ancients to consult them on anything. They are ultimately so soso lonely, but dont care for solving the Great Problem. They kept their City running, but ultimately focused in on Archiving information- utilizing communications to get information and images from other Iterators, then turning them into Pearls. They are the youngest.

[themummersfolly]

The Escape

“The men out there, they’re not like Vuvalini fathers. A girl to them is nothing but a body for them to use. But that’s their weakness- a weakness you can use. You let him get close, let him think he can use you at will. By the time he realizes he can’t, he’ll already be bleeding out at your feet.”

K.T. Concannon had said these words when Furiosa was eight. In the days that she’d been in the Citadel, they’d come back to her more and more.

Rictus was obsessed with her, she knew it now. By her two hundredth day in the Vault he was inventing reasons to visit, to stand too close behind her and touch her hair. On the day Aqua’s not-quite baby was born, she knew she needed to get out. She wasn’t sure how, or where she would go after, but she knew that Rictus was her key to escape.

“What do you mean, gone? Where is she?!” Immortan Joe stormed through the entrance to the Vault, his wives scattering before him. The Organic Mechanic turned from where he was putting his tools away.

“Easy, Boss, easy-”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

Organic raised his hands defensively as the warlord loomed over him. “This is the first I’ve been in here since the last birth. I come in to do the check-ups, and they’re saying she’s gone. That she’s been gone for two days.”

“Two days?!” Joe whirled on the nearest wife, a heavily pregnant woman who shrank behind Organic.

“We thought you had her,” she whimpered. “S-somebody came in the middle of the night, the night after the birth. We thought it was you-”

Joe slapped her open-handed, not hard enough to hurt the baby but enough to leave a bruised handprint. He whirled to face the Praetorians that had followed him in.

“It must’ve been him. He was out and about that night, and he’s been acting jumpy ever since.” Scrotus paced in the audience chamber. Outside in the halls, shouts and hurrying footsteps echoed as Joe’s Praetorians turned the Citadel upside down. Joe flexed his hands anxiously.

“Search it! Search every nook and cranny! Organic, stay here. If she’s hidden herself this long, she may be ill.” He seized the unfortunate woman by the hair and dragged her to her feet. “You know I did not come here that night. So tell me, who did?”

“I need to know which of my wives was complicit in this. Such treachery cannot be tolerated.”

“They weren’t complicit in anything, Dad.” Corpus Colossus fiddled with the control stick of his powered chair, causing the servos to buzz back and forth. “They hushed it up ‘cause they were afraid you’d go off on ‘em when you found out. Which you did.” Around the time the girl had arrived, Corpus’ opinion of his father’s breeding program had shifted from this is a bad idea to this is worse than I could have thought possible. Had he not been fighting a serious illness at the time, he would have spoken out at length against inducting her.

Scrotus scowled. “How did he get in and out with her if one of them wasn’t helping him? Someone has to pay!”

Rictus sat hunched over in a chair before his father and two brothers. It had taken almost half an hour to find him; when the search for the girl had started, he had tried to hide in the back of one of the store rooms.

“Rictus is a big boy,” Corpus shot back. He can get in trouble all by himself.” He turned to their father. “We need to get his side of this. You know how he is about dolls, and he’s always following the new war pups around. He may be able to tell us where she is.”

“Tell me the truth, Rictus. I won’t be angry.” Joe’s voice was as gentle as it ever got. “Did you enter my Vault two nights ago?”

“No.” Rictus stared miserably at the floor.

“They heard footsteps, someone big. If it wasn’t Dad and it wasn’t you, then who was it?” Scrotus demanded.

“I dunno!”

“Think.” Joe leaned forward, held out his hands. “You were awake at the time, many people saw you. Did you see anyone near the Vault?”

“No! Maybe- maybe it was him!” He pointed to Scrotus, who clapped a hand over his face.

“Rictus! This is serious!” Corpus snapped. “They’re searching your room as we speak. What are we gonna find in there?”

Rictus looked up in alarm. “You’re not gonna let ‘em touch my stuff? Dad, you’re not gonna let ‘em touch my stuff, are you?”

At that moment, one of the Praetorians entered.

“Sir. We found these. They were sitting out in the open in his room.”

In one hand he held a chastity belt, adjusted all the way down, the fasteners cut. In the other hand he held Rictus’ personalized bolt cutters.

Scrotus was the first to find his voice.

“What the fuck did you do?!”

“Scrotus! Shut it!” Corpus yelled. Rictus had contracted in on himself so hard he seemed to be trying to disappear into his own chest cavity.

“Enough!” Everyone fell silent at Joe’s roar. The warlord leaned forward again. “Rictus, my son. You will feel better if you tell me the truth.”

The big man’s lip wobbled. “It wasn’t my fault! I just wanted to see what it felt like. And then her hair came off, and-”

“Wait. Her hair?” Corpus rolled forward a few inches.

“Yeah! It just fell off in my hand, all of it! And then she ran off, and I couldn’t find her. I tried, Dad, I really tried!”

“Rictus.” Corpus craned his neck to meet his brother’s eye. “Where’s the hair that fell off?”

“Uhhhh…”

Joe closed his eyes in dismay. Scrotus threw up his hands.

“You believe me, right Dad? Dad?”

“Fuck’s sake!” Scrotus snapped. “We all know what you did. She’s dead, isn’t she?”

“I didn’t do anything to her!”

“Yes you did, you stupid pumpkin head, just like you did to the girl Uncle gave you, you can never keep-”

“That’s enough!” Joe shouted. Rictus, who had started to come out of his chair, promptly sat back down. “Scrotus, go help with the search.”

“But-”

“You will be more helpful assisting with the search, my son. Go.”

Scrotus groaned, but did as he was told. The Praetorian followed him out. Corpus sighed.

“Why’d you do it, Rictus? You knew better.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“I’m disappointed in you, my son.” Joe took Rictus’ hands in his. “You may no longer go into my Vault.”

“But- when the new baby-”

“Even when the new baby is born. You may keep Corpus company instead. If your new brother is born safely, we will introduce you afterwards.” Joe stood up and turned away. Rictus stared after him, tears in his eyes.

“But Dad, I didn’t do anything!”

“C’mon, Rictus,” Corpus puffed gently. “You need to tell us where you put her.”

“She ran away from me, I don’t know where she is!”

“Come on. Walk me through it, every step of the way, and we’ll find where she is.”

“That character over in Gastown won’t be happy.” The People Eater picked his teeth with a carved bone toothpick. “He was rather fond of her, whatever she was to him.”

Rictus sniffled and got up to follow his brother’s chair. “Ok.”

Night had fallen, and the Immortan sat with his inner circle around the remains of their dinner. Corpus and Rictus were still out, trying to retrace Rictus’ steps in a way that made sense. Scrotus scratched pensively at a rash.

“What are we going to tell him?”

The People Eater chortled. “Not the truth, certainly! That’d be dropping a lit match onto relations!”

“He won’t come after her.” Joe sat back to allow a war pup to remove his plate. “Not after she turned on him. He doesn’t seem the type. But we must not allow word to get out. If it becomes known that one of my wives vanished from the security of the Vault, it will significantly cut down on willing candidates. It’s difficult enough now to convince someone to sell me a healthy full-life.”

Footsteps sounded in the entryway and they all looked up. A Praetorian stepped aside to let the Organic Mechanic pass. Joe perked up.

“Anything?”

“’Fraid not. Corpus is starting to think he just chucked her off a gantry when no one was looking. The Wretched wouldn’t have left a lot to know her by.”

A collective groan went up from the table. Joe shut his eyes.

“A healthy full-life on the verge of her child-bearing years.”

“Ah, if I may?” Organic offered. “You might not have had much luck with her anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Scrotus demanded.

“Well- you know I been with her a long time, I’ve seen her grow from a pup herself. And she’s been healthy the whole way through, eating regular, no hard labor, never had a fever. And I do exams on the regular, make sure all the breeders are in good shape and healthy-”

“I’m aware,” said Joe. “What is your point?”

“My point is- most healthy full-lives at her age have started to menstruate, or are showing signs they will soon.”

“They’re doing what?” Scrotus wanted to know.

“Menstruate. You know, bleed from the crotchal regions. That’s how you know they’re ready- I mean, depending on who you ask, there’s different schools of thought. But I keep tabs on her, I keep tabs on all of ‘em, and she’s never bled. And not just that. She’s got no tits, no pubes-”

“Truly you are a paragon of good taste, Organic.” The People Eater made a disgusted face. Organic turned on him, arms akimbo.

“Speak for yourself, Fatso-”

Joe cut them off. “Are you telling me that she was not, in fact, likely to be fertile?”

“I mean, can’t tell unless we open her up, and we’re not likely to get that chance. But yeah, you probably wouldn’t even get a mutant out of her, much less a son. You really didn’t lose that much.”

Joe sat back, massaging his temples.

“I need to find a way to keep Rictus busy. He’s been getting in too much trouble lately.”

“You need to figure out what you’re going to tell Gastown, too, if they ask.” The People Eater wiped his toothpick clean on his suit and tucked it into its case. Organic shrugged.

“Just tell ‘em she got sick. It happens. She got sick, it was real fast, nothing we could do. Happens all the time.”

“Even to one of my wives?”

“Has Dementus ever seen the inside of your Vault?” Organic countered. Joe nodded thoughtfully.

“Good enough. Thank you, Organic, you’re dismissed. Scrotus, I need you to find something to put Rictus in charge of. He has too much free time.”

“Me? What’s he gonna be in charge of, he couldn’t pour piss out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel!”

“Something simple but time consuming. Scouting runs, perhaps. He’s a good enough fighter that I won’t worry.” He turned to the People Eater. “When does my war rig leave for Gastown next?”

“Seven days.”

Whether or not Dementus believed the Immortan’s story was difficult to say. He was dealing with the fallout from yet another clash between his bikers and the Gastowners, and doing it without the help of his most trusted underboss, who was, he explained, “on walkabout.” The questions asked about the little girl’s demise had been few.

“Then in seven days I will send my regrets to Dementus that the girl he brought me has died of an illness. An unfortunate episode, but one that need do no lasting harm.”

The same story was spread in the Citadel by stone-faced Praetorians in response to anyone asking what that ruckus had been about. But quietly, a different story made the rounds, whispered from war pup to blackthumb, circulating at night through the lice-ridden huddles where the treadmill fodder slept.

Vanished, right out from under his nose.

One of the brothers what did it, I heard. Hid her body in the hydroponics.

Wonder who’s next. Might be cushy, but I’d sell me girl to the maggot farmer ‘fore I sold her up there, if she was alive.

Huddled in the back, a scrawny, mute child listened to the speculation and, comforted, drifted off to sleep.

Like what I'm doing? Buy me a coffee!

[munacy]

Anticipation

@wolfstarmicrofic

A continuation for @stars-a-n-d-scars Part 1 (ignorance) Part 2 (duck)

There is no way this plan can go wrong. It was concocted by the ingenious James F. Potter himself, and James F. Potter does not fail, as a general rule.

"All we have to do, Wormy, is come up with a list of things that gay blokes like, and see if Remus likes those things too!"

Peter's eyes become as round as Galleons. "That's genius, Prongs!"

James is aware.

"Okay, so what goes on the list then?" Peter asks eagerly.

Well, alright, he's not thought that far.

"Hell, I dunno, Peter. How did we know with Sirius?"

"You mean besides the fact that he follows Remus around like a...well, like a puppy dog?"

"No, you're right, Sirius was too easy," James agrees grimly. Then he sighs. "Well, s'not like I'm some authority on queer culture; I've never fancied a bloke before!"

"...Not once?" Peter says slyly.

James tenses.

"...And just what are you implying?"

"That I know that you've given Regulus Black's bare arse a good peek in the lockers--"

"I WAS NOT CHECKING HIM OUT, YOU CRETIN! I WAS TRYING TO SEE IF HE HAS THE SAME BIRTHMARK AS SIRIUS!!--"

"--Okay, not helping your case even a little--"

"--AND I TOLD YOU THAT IN CONFIDENCE, YOU BASTARD!!"

-----------------

The following morning, they decide to wing it. Winging things has worked out well for them in the past, and the timing could not be better, as Madame Pomfrey has decided to keep Sirius in the Hospital Wing until she rules out a few magical maladies (although, not once has she let James skive off after being lovesick over Lily, which is a genuine illness). It's not often that they can get Remus alone without Sirius attached like a limpet.

"Watch this," Peter hisses, holding a peach in one hand and a banana in the other. "Gay blokes love bananas."

"By Merlin, Peter, I'm beginning to suspect there's a genius hidden under all of that blue-eyed naivety."

Peter makes a pleased expression before turning to Remus at the breakfast table. "Oi, Moony, I've grabbed two fruit, one for you, one for me. Which one would you like?"

Remus barely looks up from his book before selecting the banana with a muttered "thanks".

James and Peter share a look of unbridled glee, then turn to stare at Remus as he chomps away at the benign yellow fruit. His amber eyes finally drift up to meet their combined intense gaze, and he swallows, looking uncomfortable.

"Are you two alright?...You're sort of being… really weird, right now."

James breathes out a bit shakily. "You really like bananas, don't you, Moony," he says unblinkingly.

"Erm...No, not really. Actually hate 'em,” Remus scowls, clearly disturbed by their laser-focused attention.

"What!? Why did you pick it over the peach, then, why?!" cries Peter melodramatically and clawing the air with his hands.

"Because!" Remus yells back, brows furrowing with increasing bewilderment, "Pomfrey wants me to try to get more potassium in! Says it might help with the cramps around the full!"

He looks between James' and Peter's inexplicably devastated expressions, and scoffs, picking up his tray and leaving to go sit with Lily Evans and Mary Macdonald.

"Fuck," James moans.

-----------------

"Okay, okay, this is a sure thing," James mutters at rapid-fire. "Gay blokes love ABBA."

"Brilliant," Peter nods, face open and trusting.

"Quick! I hear him coming!"

As Remus enters the dormitory to exchange his Arithmancy book for Ancient Runes, his eardrums are viciously assaulted with the bouncy strains of "Dancing Queen", blasting from their record player with enough magically-enhanced volume to rattle the window pane.

OOH, YOU CAN DANCE!

"WHAT THE FUCK, GUYS!"

YOU CAN JIVE!

"ISN'T IT WONDERFUL!" screams James.

HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE!

"IT MAKES ME FEEL MY DEEP INSIDE FEELINGS ON THE OUTSIDE!" howls Peter.

OOOH, SEE THAT GIRL--

Remus casts a wordless spell that goes off with a bang, bringing the record player to a tenth of the volume.

"I fucking hate disco," he growls, storming out of the dorm and slamming the door on his way out.

Peter sighs. "Prongs, maybe he just isn't bent? Wouldn't that be such a shame for poor old--"

"PETE! P-Pete, mate, your foot!"

Peter looks down at his traitorous foot, tapping along—completely of its own accord—to ABBA. "Fuck!" he wails. "It's too catchy!"

-----------------

They have one last idea, but neither of them is enthusiastic about it.

"It's got to be you, Prongs," Peter whimpers panickily, "I haven't got the pectorals!"

And Peter, unfortunately, has never been so right.

But what if Remus falls in love with me instead? He's bound to! Doesn't that defeat the entire purpose? Poor Padfoot, he'd be so devastated.

"Don't think about the ramifications just now," Peter interrupts his internal monologue, snapping his fingers in front of his friend's gold-rimmed spectacles. "We've got no choice, Jamie. At this point, it's embarrassing we haven't been able to figure out this very basic thing about our best mate."

James nods reluctantly.

Into the breach.

That late afternoon finds James, alone in the dorm, exiting a gratuitously steamy shower once he hears that snick of the dormitory door shutting, signaling that Remus has returned from Charms Club.

Took the wanker long enough, I'm all pruney now.

"Oh, Reeemuuus!" James calls in a purr, very loosely wrapping a towel around his hips. "Could you come here a second?"

The door opens tentatively.

"Christ, Prongs, it's like a rainforest in here. How long did you shower for?" Remus accuses, his unruly tawny curls already protesting against the humidity. "And why are you showering in the middle of the day?"

James waits until Remus finally makes eye contact with him to take a few slow, deliberate steps closer, looking up at Remus (damn, but the boy just keeps shooting up) from under his dark lashes.

"And...when do you like to take long showers, Remus?" he murmurs.

"Eh? I dunno, sometimes I like to take a hot bath or two after the full." Remus' brows furrow in concern. "You feeling alright, Prongs? Maybe you've got whatever Padfoot has. Where is Padfoot, anyway?"

James steps ever closer. He could touch Remus. He's about to touch Remus. HIs mouth goes oddly dry with anticipation.

"Don't worry about Sirius. Worry about me for a second," he whispers.

Remus' intense golden eyes finally break their gaze as they subtly flick up and down James' body.

"Oh, is that why you called me in here?"

Gotcha, you lovely, queer bastard.

"Why, yes, Remus, I'm dying for you to--"

An exasperated sigh and eyeroll interrupt what would have been a surefire seduction.

"As I've told you nigh on a hundred times, Prongs, wizards don't get skin cancer. That mole on your lower back looks perfectly normal, as I've already said, and I'm not going to look at it again!"

James can only gape at Remus.

He tuts. "I don't have time for this; you're literally fine. I'm going to see if Pads is still in the Hospital Wing."

Remus exits in a whirl, leaving James reeling in the bathroom--wet, humiliated, and, if he's being completely honest with himself, just the tiniest bit aroused.

-----------------

"James! James!" Peter bursts into the dormitory with Sirius in tow, moments after James has gotten clothes back on. "Padfoot's out of the Hospital Wing and I've informed him of our mission!"

"Right, mate," Sirius follows breathlessly. "You lot are trying to figure out if Moony's gay, then?"

James moans and put his head in his hands. He feels this close to unraveling. "We've been trying to figure it out all day!"

"Really?? What have you tried?" prompts Sirius eagerly.

"POTASSIUM!" shouts James incoherently.

"Erm--"

"Disco, too, louder than eruption of Krakatoa," interjects Peter mournfully.

"Great--" James suppresses a sob--"Great, rock hard pectorals. Prize-winning pectorals. Boy's unflappable. I have no idea."

Sirius purses his lips, clearly between seeking clarification on the gibberish they've spouted and slapping them both silly. Fortunately for all involved parties, he does neither.

"Lads. Here's an idea. Why don't we just ask him?"

-----------------

Thanks to those of you that have stuck around! <3

Part 4: Thirst

[istherewifiinhell]

HM for the bingo: matoba, um um um. your least favorite oppie. your most favorite starscreamer. ummmmm. Abyssal Black Flame Dragon

HEHEHE

shitty id in alt. WELL THATS URRRR GUY. thats the guy thats nat.sume is about. pretty sure <- took me like a year to figure out this is not the case. he is silly. ive seen it in the gag manga. hessss a pretty loser goth in and out of drag what is not to like. im just assuming ur the most right about him i dunno if that means other ppl are wrong tho

joelle joelleity joelletwo is trying to get my ass murdered on tumblr dot gov. EDITED AND UPDATED. need to reflect that my constant with this one is i get why megs got like that

[alt]. ohhh buddy...... you asked. 1. no personality. 2. hate his whole vibe (aesthetics/affect) 3. BETRAYED THE REVOLUTION. 4. not a very good conflicted pasicfist if thats what they were gonna go for. 5. tee fee pee special. u know show dont tell. this is tell, then forget to bring up ever again. simply. simply. listen if the girlies in the tag have to make him interesting for their fanfic and fuck nasty shit (honourary) go with god. i have read good fic of him. but thats compliments to the fans. me personally. i would simply use any other iteration. i suppose u cant beat how DIVORCED this guy is. im not opposed any of his specific characteristics really. its the holistic sum thats my enemy.

DOODLING HEARTS AND GRAPHIC VIOLENCE ON THE SCANTRON <- which tf is that 🥁🔔

[ALT] actually can i edit this again lets do a bingo for bullying. he got bullied possible the most anyone has but ill bully him some more 😏🤨😳. now ur some ppl might think oh u like this screamer so much to u inversely not like this megs for beating him up. well not u tho. thats gotta be one of my favourite 2 minutes in all of tf kajdgbjfdhb. hes not real so hes fine with that i asked him myself. ANYWAY WHAT IF U WERE BACKED INTO A CORNER BY UR OWN VIOLENT IMPULSES AND CONSEQUENCES OF UR OWN ACTIONS and also millennia of unending war so u just decide to go full nihilist about it. and this literally saves your world and people. well not the ones u killed but most of em. and u keep winning <3 and ur pettiness and self severing survival instincts also saved the universe. btw. idk if i have HC so much as. i can see my reading of the text not being universal but also im right <3. billybob thompson one of 2 fav non latta screamers. prettiest modern screamer design

out of LEFT field but i LOVE IT

[alt] wait how did u land on a orbeez side character i would at remember the vibes of enough to get double bingo. was it dragon sooyoung? kfjjdf. DO U KNOW. how often i watch something and think. this character would be improved if they were an edgy anime fourteen year old. WELL HERE IT IS. the most important thing u can be in the world is a shitty emo teen with a deviant art dragon fursona. i dont remember anything else im literally just like. thats perfect. what a shit head. the best character in the book now im saying so.