#but in all seriousness she's just such a fun character

[scatter-snz]

Best Laid Plans

My first original piece I've posted here! Around 9k words.

This is VERY self-indulgent so you’ll have to excuse me lol. It’s like.. lizard brain horny. Seriously lol. Slapping NSFW on here for good measure. It’s rare I get embarrassed about my kink nowadays but I feel a little embarrassed about this one. Still, I had fun writing it! I hope someone else can enjoy it too! 

Details: Male sneezes, no pairing (yet..)

Summary: A secret agent is going undercover for a few days, and his target has a sneeze fetish. The agency’s best engineer has constructed something to give him an edge.

These are original characters, all in their late twenties and early thirties! This story was inspired by @testingtwns writing. She has such captivating descriptions, spectacular characterizations, and fascinating world lore. This snippet can’t hold a candle to her amazing stories, but I was moved to try writing it after reading hers. (If you would prefer I remove this shoutout, Red, please let me know! Your stuff is just so great!)

(Warnings: Unrealistic science, my cringe attempt at sneeze characterization, Mess Lite™, questionable workplace dynamics, general horny undertones and overtones, accidental boners and feeling pleasure from sneezing).

THIS STORY IS NSFW!

-

It was never a great morning when Agent Omicron found himself in Dr. Anita Voster’s lab. She was a little eccentric, he thought, and liked to make mischief. Not a good combination for a scientist. Still, she was the best in the force and the one assigned to his case by the powers that be. He knew why he was reporting to Dr. Voster’s lab and he knew what his bosses would say - The sooner you report to Dr. Voster, the sooner you can begin your work.

Omicron reported to her lab sharply at 0800, shrugged off his suit jacket at her behest, and sat himself down in her vaguely threatening patient chair for the administration of her invention. Dr. Voster was far too giddy in handing over a small container of nasal spray. It looked harmless, but Omicron knew better.

“This,” he said, inspecting the bottle, “will make me sick?”

“Something like that,” Dr. Voster replied. She fetched the bottle from his hand as she spoke, and rolled a plush stool over to sit as they talked. “This virus was engineered specifically to make you sneeze, so think of it like a cold in your nose.”

“Similar to allergies?”

“Yes, if you were allergic to air.”

Omicron sighed. He wasn’t in the business of complaining, but this was going to be challenging. He crossed his arms, trying not to fidget. “How long does it last?”

“Just long enough to see you through the mission. Your symptoms should abate by Thursday.”

So he’d be sick the entire time, essentially. Great. His leg started to bounce.

“Will this slow me down?” he asked. Dr. Voster arched a look over her safety glasses. He clarified himself. “Am I going to feel like shit?”

She smirked at him. “Are you one of those man-cold types?”

Heat swept over his ears and burned the back of his neck, and her smile only widened. He crunched his brows with a glare. “No, I’m just being thorough. If this will compromise my performance in any way, I want to know about it.”

“It won’t,” she chuckled, and he tried not to get defensive at the amusement in her voice. “Like I said, the primary function of this virus is to make you sneeze. You’ll be contending with some nasal congestion, but aside from that you’ll be fine.”

That was easy for her to say. She wasn’t going undercover into enemy territory. He tensed as she snapped on a pair of gloves and looped on a face mask. When she uncapped the bottle, he cleared his throat. “The paperwork said something about me being more ‘suggestible?’ What does that mean?”

She huffed at his air quotes and yanked down her mask. “It means you’ll be vulnerable to psychosomatic triggers. In other words, if you think hard enough about sneezing, you’ll prompt one.”

“That sounds unlikely.”

“We have testing data to support it,” she chastised, and yanked her mask back up. “It was a goal for the formula. We thought you might find it handy to take matters into your own hands if a sneeze wasn’t forthcoming.”

“For.. what? Tactical measures?”

“Yes, strategic options. Now, tilt your head and relax.”

He reluctantly settled back into the cushioned chair, sniffing in preparation. One of her latex hands moved to cradle his jaw and keep him still as she nudged the applicator up the right side. It was wide enough to graze the sides of his nostrils, and he felt them flare in response.

“Okay, deep breath..”

Swallowing, he breathed slowly, deeply through his nose. A fffssh from the bottle yielded a mist of curiously warm aerosol that instantly coated the skin. He flinched a wrist up to his mouth to cough in response. It felt suddenly like his nose was running, so he sniffed, sniffed, and sniffed again. A strong flavor coated the back of his throat.

“Why is it salty?”

“Well, we didn’t intentionally flavor it,” she said, already moving to his left nostril. “Probably the saline. We used it as a base. Now, give me another big breath.”

He did as he was told, and again a warm puff of wetness invaded his nose. And another. And another. They performed this three times for each nostril, alternating sides, and the last one rubbed him wrong. A tiny tickle ignited. Omicron warded Dr. Voster back with one cautious hand as the other routed to his nose. He anchored his forefinger beneath his nostrils, pressing deliberately against his septum as he parted his lips to breathe. Voster snorted at him as she set the bottle aside.

“I thought that only worked in cartoons.”

“And on me,” he mumbled in a heady voice. 

It took a moment of concentrated effort, but the urge passed. He sniffed, a little wetter this time as he blinked away tears. Agent Omicron was an old hand at holding back sneezes. Sudden, uncontrolled outbursts weren’t great for business when he was out in the field. That, and he generally didn’t like to draw attention to himself even in civilian life. He caught Dr. Voster smiling at him and his brows trenched.

“What now?”

“I’m not into sneezing,” she told him as she capped the bottle, “but that was pretty cute. Your target won’t stand a chance, Mr. Honey Pot.”

He replied with a scowl and one more see-sawing rub beneath his nose. “When does this kick in?”

“Give it twenty-four hours,” she said, and snapped off her gloves. “I’ll check on you then to make sure it took.”

He stood and slipped back into his jacket, straightened his tie. “Isn’t this cutting it a little close? I’m flying out tomorrow.”

“Maybe, but we didn’t want your poor nose suffering anymore than it has to,” she cooed, and punctuated this with a little tap of her knuckle to his septum. He swatted her away.

“Stop.”

“Oohhh,” she pouted, leaning a hip against her workstation. “Always so serious, Agent O.”

Omicron lurked a warning glare her way as he adjusted his sleeve cuffs and shirt collar. “I’ll be back in 2400.”

---

And he was, though he dragged his feet most of the way.

Omicron believed Dr. Voster when she said this nasal spray contained a virus that would cause his nose some hell, but he didn’t quite understand just how.. intense the experience would be. 

He sniffled, a necessary indignity since he woke up this morning, and the slow, deliberate flare of that ever-present irritation beckoned him toward an unavoidable conclusion. Still, Omicron shoved the hard edge of his finger beneath his nose and tilted his head back for another whip-crack sniff. It flared the tickle dangerously, but the steady breakwater against his septum kept him in the clear. His nostrils twitched and he pinched them, rubbing rubbing rubbing until he heard the embarrassing squelch of something wet in his nose.

Another strong sniff, and a weak huhh on his exhale. Shit. He wiped his hand on the side of his pants with a grimace. He’d have to start carrying tissues.

“There he is!” Dr. Voster greeted him with a disarming smile, but he could see the hawklike way she zeroed in on his nose. He tried not to sniffle. “How’s my magnum opus treating you?”

It’s bullying me, Omicron thought, but as he laced his hands properly behind his back, what he said instead was, “It’s working.”

“Oh, is it?” she said. She wasn’t even trying to mask the delight in her voice now as she crowded him back into her exam chair. “Let me take a look.”

He stared hard at the ceiling as she slipped on gloves and wheeled forward on her stool, leaning over him like a dentist. He hated the dentist. A warm trickle of wetness prompted an automatic sniff, and a huffing exhale when that far-back tickle teased him.

“Runny nose?” she chirped, using her thumb to gently coax his nostril open. She held an otoscope with her other hand, using the little light to peer up his nose. Omicron tried not to shrivel in embarrassment as she crooned with sympathy. “Oooh, poor thing. You’re so inflamed..”

“Wasn’t that the idea?” he sighed, and sniffled again. A spark somewhere in his sinuses caused him a hard blink.

“Yes, but it must tickle so much..”

In response to her words, another spark snapped inside him. Like striking flint to burn kindling. Another reflexive sniffle. His eyes began to water. 

“It must feel like something fuzzy is stuck up there,” she was saying, rubbing her thumb softly against the quivering edge of his nostril. “Every time you breathe, this fluffy thing, lodged in place and too far for you to reach..”

The frantic efforts of the virus continued, tenacious now in its purpose. The fuse caught, as did Omicron’s next inhale. His chest hitched with a stutter. He tried to reach up, finger extended and ready, but Voster caught his wrist and pinned it back down to the chair arm.

“It must be new for you, to be so out of control. This thing inside you, tickling so sweetly, growing unbearable, and there’s nothing you can do but submit.”

That tantalizing feeling got worse. The line of gunpowder trailing through his pulsing nostrils lit up with an unstoppable blaze. It raced through him, and Omicron couldn’t do anything but give it fuel. He gasped hugely, his chest straining against the buttons of his shirt. The exhale crashed out of him clumsily, unrelieved.

“H-HUHhh..”

Dr. Voster leaned away, but set her otoscope aside to pin his other wrist when he reflexively raised it to ward off what was coming. “Don’t fight it, Omicron. That tickle nestled in your nose was built for this. Listen to it. You two are a team, remember?”

Omicron couldn’t even open his eyes, the sensation held him so powerfully. It felt alive, calculated, somehow vying for control. He snatched in another soft breath, breathed it out on a moan, and then gasped again. His lungs strained to accommodate as that demanding tickle wanted more.. more..

He huffed out another helpless groan. “HHUHhhh..”

His hands flinched toward his face, but met resistance. A tear surfed down his cheek and got caught in his stubble. He gasped- gasped-! “.. hH-hiIHH-!”

The sensation crested, and finally, overcame him.

“HHZZZSSSCHOOO!!”

The force of it threw him forward. It was the loudest, strongest sneeze he’d ever sneezed, but somehow it didn’t feel big enough. Cool, tingling aftermath quickly gathered a second storm. This time, Omicron didn’t do anything but breathe into it.

“..hhHI’JJIZZSHHUE!”

Another uncharacteristically enormous sneeze. His wrists were free, but he didn’t even bother to cover his mouth or muffle into his elbow. Usually he’d rather disintegrate than sneeze freely even in his own home, but.. this tickle.. he just wanted to let it.. let it do.. 

“HEH’CHIZSHOoo!”

.. do whatever it wanted. And what it wanted was complete and utter domination. Omicron sniffled helplessly, half-aware he was leaking out of more than one orifice but too punch-drunk to do much about it. His breath caught fitfully in his throat and he-.. 

“-idzhih.. HID’ISSsshoo!.. huhh..”

Omicron leaned over to press hands over his eyes, his palms coming away wet. He was normally a one-and-done guy, with fairly normal-sized sneezes; this many at this size had him light-headed. His breath hitched again, quick like the strike of a viper, before he let it go on a sigh. And another, just the same. It felt like hiccups. He didn’t dare touch his nose, too wary of setting off the wrath of this thing deep inside him. Instead he just sniffled pitifully, catching his breath.

There was a tap on his shoulder. He glanced askance to a sheepish looking Dr. Voster who was offering a box of tissues. He snatched several, still too dazed to be properly embarrassed as he blew a wet, crackling sound into the wad of them. It took a few rounds, but when he finished he cleared his throat and blinked at her with teary eyes.

“What the fuck, Anita.”

“Sorry,” she winced, and she actually did seem sorry. “I wanted to test the ‘suggestible’ variable and you reacted more strongly than I anticipated. Also, um.. bless you, by the way.”

He sat back against the seat with a stuffy sniffle, arms crossed, and now that he was more aware of himself, valiantly fighting down the urge to blush. “Yes, well. You were just doing your job, so I can’t be mad.”

She hedged a nervous smile. “Can’t be, or shouldn’t be?”

He gusted a long sigh, reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose when somehow even the rumble of his own voice stirred the residual dust of another sinus-deep tickle. “Do you need to test anything else, or can I go?”

His voice had lost most of its resonance from the sneeze attack as the congestion set in -- not yet enough to blunt his consonants but enough to dull the overall sound. Moisture skated down the side of his nose and Omicron wrinkled it with another snuffle that moved nothing at all. How could his nose be both dripping and completely blocked? He indulged a rub this time, soothing his nostrils to stillness with the tempering back-and-forth of his index finger.

The doctor’s voice broke the quiet. “How does it feel?”

Omicron peered up at her, finger still held to his upper lip. “Pardon?”

“Your nose,” she clarified, but not by much. “How does it feel?” He scoffed and stood to leave. She stood to stop him, holding both hands out as if to placate him. “I’m not teasing you. I really do need to know. Are you in pain?”

“No,” he said, chest lifting with another short sniff. He pressed harder against his septum, rubbing in earnest now as the tickle began gathering momentum. It stalled against the wrangling touch, but didn’t back down. “No pain.”

“But it does tickle?”

“I believe we’ve estahh..hkrrrm!” He cleared his throat to steady his voice. “.. established that, yes.”

She eyed him, her gaze trailing down to the finger glued beneath his nose. “You shouldn’t try to hold them off, Omicron. It might be why your sneezing earlier was so extreme.”

All this talk of sneezing was just emboldening the tickle. It’s like the sensation was surging forward, eager to answer to the call of its name. His eyes fluttered closed and he pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth to try and waylay another gasping breath. His nostrils pulsed against his finger, prompting him to pinch them instead, but still they tried to flare against his grip. He heard Dr. Voster sigh.

“I don’t know why they picked you for this mission,” she muttered, just loud enough to be heard. “If you’re too shy to sneeze, you’re going to lose your target pretty much instantly.”

His eyes sliced open, as defiant as his nose still squirming between his fingers. His voice was bottled back in his throat completely. “I’b dnot shy, I’b.. I’b jhhss.. hooh..”

The tickle hijacked his voice, tremoring it on a snatchy inhale. It prickled ominously behind his eyes, insistent, and Omicron stayed perfectly still in an effort to tame it. Even with his nose plugged and his fervent attempts to rub the sensation away, the tickle persisted. It dragged another breath in on a soft gasp, out on another dreading utterance.

“.. H-Ihih!.. ohh..”

“You’re so stubborn,” said Dr. Voster, and he could hear her rolling her eyes. He’d known her for years, and while he tried to rise above her goading taunts, there always came a point when she got to him.

Omicron let go of his nose and took as long and deep of a breath as he could through his trembling nostrils. The tickle welcomed it, greedily advancing, and rather than prolong the fight Omicron simply braced his hands on his knees to keep his balance as the sensation built inside him. As Dr. Voster so strangely asserted during his last volley, he and this virus were a team. He wouldn’t see the success of this mission without it.

It was this thought that compelled him to breathe again, a sniff that coasted directly into a gasp. He waited, hovering on the edge of it, but the sneeze backed away just before he could snatch it. Omicron squinted up at Dr. Voster, who was watching him with bald interest.

“Iihhff… hoo..” He sniffled, abandoning all dignity as he snubbed the wet edges of his nostrils against the sleeve of his suit. “If I let this tiH.. tiihckle ha..uuHUhh.. have its way ev..” 

His eyes fluttered closed, and he snatched in a series of chuffing breaths. Each was a shrill gasp followed by a bleating exhale, utterly beyond his power to stop. The crescendo carried him into increasingly higher and faster octaves, before the sneeze ripped out of him with gusto.

“HAH’CHIZSHOO!-ohhhh..” He swayed on his feet, panting at the ground, and was shocked to find in the tingling aftermath how good that felt. It made it easier to let the next one swell and crash out of him. “..HIH’SSschoo!- fuck mbe..”

Omicron rarely swore, but the power and sheer abandon of these sneezes were so unlike his usual that he couldn’t help it. Through the haze of another rising tickle, he tried to hurry through the rest of his thoughts before he completely forgot what he was saying.

“If I let it have.. hahve it’s wayiiiiee..ig’GIZZSCHue!!-hah... I’ll be sdnee.. sdiizz.. HIZZSSSHOO!!..ughh, sdeezig for..fuh! UH!hhh.. for days.” He finished on a sigh, unrelieved, one hand now holding desperately onto the chair so he didn’t end up on his knees.

Dr. Voster didn’t immediately speak and when he finally blinked away blurry tears, he found her biting her lip with a worried crease between her eyes. “.. Do you always sneeze like this when you catch a cold?”

Even the very word caused his nose to buzz. His willpower was all but shredded, so he clamped onto the chair with his other hand and threw his head down with a body-shaking, “IID’DZZSSSSSTTH!!”

It was an unfortunate sneeze, one that painted his tie and the seat of the chair with its aftermath. Omicron didn’t have the energy to blush about it; honestly, this was all Anita’s fault so if he happened to catch her furniture in the crossfire of his helpless sneezing fit he.. heeeeeeee-

“HEEZZZSHOOO!!” He stumbled forward into a suspended tray of implements that crashed to the ground in a tremendous clatter. Omicron paid it no mind, tilting his head back to the fluorescent lights in an effort to keep his running nose at bay. “Bloody hell, won’t it st.. uh.. ohh.. hH!”

A bridge of pressure appeared beneath his septum, pressing firmly against it. He cracked his eyes open to find Dr. Voster beside him, her finger fearlessly anchored beneath his flaring nostrils. They threatened another revolt, under the tickle’s full command. That enduring, swelling force inside Omicron begged again for release and he gasped loudly against Dr. Voster.

“..hihHIT-!”

“Nope, nope, nope,” she muttered, pressing even harder against his nose. “Work with me here..”

Omicron had no idea if she was talking to him, or the virus, but both struggled to comply. The maddening prickle became tortuous. His nose cried out for relief, as the tickle played his sinuses like a fine instrument. Holding it back now seemed impossible. And to be frank, he was still a bit irked with Anita. He flicked his gaze up to the lights, sensitive enough that the bright flash of them set alight the simmering fuse inside him.

And, because he was a gentleman, he did try to warn her. “.. caahh.. cahhdd..”

“O, don’t you dare. I know you have more control than this, just-”

He heaved his way through an ominous buildup, letting the tickle dictate the pace of his breath until it brought him to the brink. His chest inflated, pressing against Dr. Voster as she fought to the end to keep him together. She pressed hard enough that he half-wondered if his nose would bruise, but no amount of pressure could tide it back. He threw both of them forward with a sneeze scraped up from the depths of his lungs.

“HAAAZZSCHHOOOO!!-ooohhhhh..” 

His knees felt a bit weak after that one, but for the first time since he’d woken up that morning, his nose tingled with welcome relief. It would be brief, he was certain, but he’d take the reprieve while he had it. The satisfaction of the fit filled his head with a pleased emptiness as he teetered his way around the edge of the chair and dropped to sit there. He tried to catch his breath.

“Agent Omicron, I swear to god,” groused Dr. Voster. He cracked his eyes open to see her ripping out more than a dozen tissues to throw at him. “You did that on purpose.”

He gathered them up and groaned wetly into the white bouquet. His voice was an achy croak. “I had no control over that, I promise you..”

Dr. Voster washed her hands at the sink and joined him on her stool when she finished. By that time, he’d managed to make himself somewhat presentable. His suit was a bit of a lost cause, but with luck the stains would dry into something less noticeable before his flight.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said, and there was a serious quality to her question. “Do you always sneeze like this when you catch cold?”

Omicron shook his head, bringing another bunch of tissues to his face to blow. ‘Sore throat’ may not have been an intended symptom, but it soon would be if he kept shouting sneezes on the hour. He massaged his sinuses through the thin paper, already hopelessly stuffed up as he tried to suck in a sniffle. It just made him cough.

Dr. Voster was muttering beside him. “.. may have hit you harder than intended..”

“Whad was that?” he asked. He didn’t bother masking the reproach in his tone. She sighed and adjusted her glasses.

“I said, I may have underestimated how reactive you’d be,” she admitted. “You rarely sneeze, so I thought your sinuses weren’t sensitive.”

“I have to sdneeze all the time,” Omicron admitted in turn with a sawing rub beneath his nostrils. “I’b just good at holding themb back.”

Dr. Voster stared at him a moment, then bent over her knees with a sound of pure frustration. “Omicron. You should have TOLD me that in the INTAKE INTERVIEW.”

Omicron startled in his seat, sputtering with insult. “Are you tryi’g to make this mby fault? I answered all your questions honestly!”

“I asked you if you sneeze a lot when you’re sick and you said no!!”

“Thad’s because I DON’D!” 

His throat didn’t take kindly to the treatment and he turned away to cough. He yanked out more tissues, determined to free his consonants with a noseblow. Nothing moved, and all he got was another threatening jab from the tickle for his trouble. Oh, please not again, he thought, blinking at the sensation.

“Then what do you call this, O? Are you sneezing for fun?”

Anita’s voice called him briefly back to his ire. “I almost never sneeze this much when I’m sick! In fact I sdneeze more when I’m well, I-..”

He stopped, and Dr. Voster watched him with bare worry as he wrestled with what could be another punishing sneezing fit. Omicron learned his lesson from before, and he didn’t try to fight it at all. Just gave himself over to the feverish tickling until it snagged his breath in one fell swoop.

“H-ih.. TZSshoo!” 

He waited briefly for another, but none came and Omicron could have wept with relief. That was far closer to what he’d expected at the start of this experiment. He wiped his nose with a tissue and was unsurprised to find the skin was already getting sore. His skin was prone to chafing with too much friction, which was just as inconvenient as it sounded.

Dr. Voster frowned at him. “Was that..?”

“My usual, yes,” Omicron verified with a sigh. He was numb to the embarrassment of discussing this by now.

“Okay.” Dr. Voster folded her hands in her lap and with a deep breath, marshaled herself. “Okay, okay. This.. is salvageable. I just have to create an antidote, or maybe a diluting agent, and then maybe I can administer a weaker dose before..” She glanced at her watch and hung her head in defeat. “.. you leave in less than an hour.”

Omicron gave her a half-lidded stare over his tissues. “You didn’t create an antidote?”

Dr. Voster threw her arms up and shot up from her chair to pace. “No, Omicron! No, I didn’t. It’s a cold. It’s a harmless, nose-oriented cold at that. Barely a case of the sniffles. But apparently you have the most delicate sinuses of all mankind because my dose was too strong and now you’re-”

She glanced over at Omicron to find him in a state of sneezy limbo, no longer listening as his nostrils twitched their way to a consuming finale. He stuttered a few breaths, each exhale a sound of unwitting surprise when the sneeze didn’t come. It took longer than Omicron wanted, but he finally got it.

“DZSSSH!” Another pitchy gasp, the corners of his mouth flinching upward in the barest hint of a relieved smile as he vented one down on his lap. “TSSschoo!! ahhh, tha’g you..”

Omicron wasn’t even sure who he was talking to, the tickle or his nose, but each succinct release felt wonderful and left him spent in a way that relaxed him. It seemed if he didn’t try to stop them, they would come in much more manageable waves. Hmm.. maybe that meant if he held them off, he could get another one of those punishing volleys when he needed one. It would depend on the target’s preferences.

“Omicron, are you listening?”

He glanced up to find a fretful Dr. Voster, her hair loose from her ponytail and lab coat a little askew. He sniffed. “No, sorry. What did you say?”

“I’m going to recommend we ground you,” she said. Omicron froze, uncertain if he heard right, but jumped to his feet when she snatched up her phone. “We can’t risk this compromising you.”

He tried to grab her phone from her, but she dodged. “What are you talking about? I thought that was the point.”

“The point was to give you a reliable way to sneeze,” she clarified, quickly typing something out with her thumbs. “Not make you a liabilit-HEY!”

Omicron managed to liberate her phone and held it high above to keep it out of reach as he tried to reason with her. He sniffed again when he felt his nose begin to run, and blinked against the throbbing reply of his nose-tickle. “Listen, Anita, I’ve been training for this mission for months. It’s our only chance t.. to..”

Her eyes narrowed as his fluttered. “You have to sneeze right now, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, but I’m telling you I’m hh!UHhh..” He sniffled again, fighting for composure. “.. I’m learning to work with it, alright?”

“If you can go thirty seconds without sneezing, I’ll believe you.”

Omicron swallowed. Thirty seconds yesterday would have been nothing, but today? His nostrils flared at even the suggestion. If he wasn’t certain viruses had no capacity for thought, let alone emotion, he would claim this tickle had a mind of its own and a chip on its shoulder. It was always simmering somewhere in the recesses of his sinuses, but the moment he committed to staving it off, it surged forward with pure intention.

Somehow, he could tell he’d be in for another seismic sneezing fit if he tried any tricks to keep it back, so he let his eyes fold shut. Rather than increments of jumping breaths, this sneeze was a smooth slide into fruition. He drew in a dreamy breath and felt his nostrils ease wide. Then-

“HETZChuu!” It was cleansing, a reset that cleared his mind. He welcomed another. “h-hHEH!h.. ohhH!hh..” 

The urge abandoned him, and of course the moment he wanted to sneeze, he couldn’t. Clearing his throat, he realized with a measure of chagrin that when he sneezed, he hadn’t done more than turn his head. Where had his manners gone? The urges were so immediate, he could scarcely think of anything else.

Dr. Voster snatched the phone from his hand. “That wasn’t even fifteen seconds! I’m calling HQ.”

“Anita!” he growled, and darted forward. The two of them ended up in a spontaneous spar. While Dr. Voster was rarely on the field, she was trained in hand-to-hand as well as he was. They exchanged a series of blocks, strikes, kicks, dodges, and by the time Omicron wrestled her into a hold on the linoleum, they were both breathless. Splayed out on her back, he huffed heavy breaths into her hair. The silken strands ruffled in the gusts.

She threw him a dirty look from the corner of her eye. “Let me go, Omicron.”

“Not until you let go of this notion that I’m incapable of fulfilling this mission, Anita,” he leveled back at her. “It’s unlike you to worry like this.”

Her glare darkened; she didn’t like his choice of words, but didn’t deny it. “I oversensitized you. It will be my fault if you collapse in an uncontrollable sneezing fit and get captured by the enemy.”

He scoffed. “Is that all? I didn’t sneeze once during our spar and, in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got you in a lock on the ground. Not to mention the mission is information extraction. If I attract unwanted attention, that would be my own mistake.”

She said nothing in return, which prompted Omicron to slide off of her. Together they sat up, still sitting on the floor together. She tucked hair behind her ear, refusing to look at him. He sighed. “Anita..”

She shot him a side glance. “.. are you seriously going through with it?”

“Of course,” he replied, twitching his nose to one side. The tickle rippled, and he sniffled in response. Out of habit he reached up to rest his finger beneath. “If the target enjoys this as much as sources claim, th-h!.. then it’ll beeeeh-”

He tucked his finger more tightly to his septum, only realizing his mistake after the tickle churned restlessly against the tender, tortured edges of his sinuses. “Oh, fuck mHH-.. HIH!hh.. uhh… UH..”

Dr. Voster made a noise of exasperation and he caught the sound of tissues getting snatched from the box. As he gasped and groaned his way through another incredible buildup, a flurry of softness enveloped his squirming nose. He cupped his hand over hers as he flinched forward into their shared grip.

“iiiIHH’GGZSSCHOO!..oohhh, uhduther-..” He caught his breath in a desperate gasp, straight from the bottom of his belly. When he crunched forward, he heard a couple seams rip in his shirt. “AAHHDZZSCHOO!!”

“I guess I should said bless you,” grumbled Dr. Voster. She wiggled the tissues around his nose, which remained twitchy. He had yet to open his eyes. “Are you done?”

He shook his head.

“One more?”

He paused to consider, then nodded. And after another terrific gasp, the force of his doubling-over wrenched their hands down toward his lap. “EEHTTZZSSSCHOOO!!.. ohhh, wow..” 

Omicron nearly shivered at the pleasant, tingling aftermath. Why did they always feel so good? The bigger the better, even if they winded him. Dr. Voster left him with the tissues as he muzzily blew his nose. He kept his head down for a moment to let the dizziness ease, so he was still facing his lap when he opened his eyes.

Oh. That was new. Side effect of the virus, perhaps..? 

Omicron darted his eyes to the doctor, but she was already up on her feet and brushing off her coat. She hadn’t seen - his first and only stroke of luck today. Because if she thought his violent sneezing was grounds for calling off the mission, his sudden sneeze-induced half-chub would definitely warrant a mortifying and career-destroying advisory call to HQ. He rushed to adjust himself as she turned away, and then both of them jumped when the door opened.

“ - yes, yes, just tell them to fax it,” Agent Delta was saying, attention still focused on someone else in the hall. Omicron scrambled to his feet, standing at attention as Dr. Voster filed beside him, just as Delta turned to them both. He clapped his hands together. “Ah, there they are! Case 28947!”

That was the case number to which they were assigned, and the very case that would see Omicron leaving for the airport in the next.. his eyes flew to the clock on the wall.. twelve minutes. That’s probably why Delta was here. 

“How’s our experiment? A success?” He strolled over to Omicron, over whom he held a few inches. Omicron stood his ground, resolving not to drop his eyes when Delta jovially scanned his features. His gaze lingered on Omicron’s nose. “Looks like it was.”

“It was.” Dr. Voster and Omicron briefly locked eyes before she continued. “It’s.. functioning as intended.”

“Really?” asked Delta, impressed. Dr. Foster preened under that look, in spite of the circumstances. The senior agent looked between the two of them with a polite smile. “I suppose you wouldn’t mind me testing it as well?”

Again Omicron and Anita met eyes. This time, Omicron cleared his throat and nodded his reply. “If you wish, sir.”

Delta scratched his cheek thoughtfully, studying Omicron in silence until the shorter agent couldn’t help but sniff. He also couldn’t help the need to briefly wrinkle his nose afterward. Delta grinned.

“From how it was described, it must tickle pretty bad in there, huh?” he said, nodding to Omicron’s nose. It must be blushed pink by now, if not darker. He waited for Delta to continue, and then realized that his superior was waiting for an answer.

Much as it humiliated him to say it, he replied, “It does, sir.”

“Mmm,” Delta hummed thoughtfully, and to the man’s credit he sounded a little sympathetic. “It must feel like.. hm, how did your poetic literature put it, Doctor? What was it?.. Liiike..”

Dr. Voster, who was busy putting her hair back up into its customary ponytail, darted an apologetic glance toward Omicron. Well, it wasn’t her fault. Omicron knew what literature Delta referenced and it was only part of protocol for her to write something thorough for their records.

“Like feathers.”

“That’s right, like feathers,” Delta continued, shifting on his feet in front of Omicron. His eyes never left his subordinate’s face. “Constantly and tirelessly petting the inside of one’s nose.”

The words seemed hypnotic to Omicron because he could feel it. He could feel those feathers, stroking so gently and repeatedly against the far depths of his sinuses. Somewhere deep, somewhere too far to scratch. They were careful with the fragile nerves there, but dauntless in their purpose. To make him sneeze. And sneeze.. And sneeze…

Omicron’s eyes fluttered shut, his breath deepening as his nostrils flared softly to the siren call of those thoughts. His hands remained firmly clasped behind him.

Delta continued as if he didn’t notice. “Yes. An ever-present irritation in the most sensitive depths, coaxed to greater and greater strength by your breath. Isn’t that ironic? That you yourself are the catalyst to this growing fire inside you, cursed to fan the flames even in sleep.”

Did it start while I was asleep last night? Omicron wondered. Because when he woke, it was to an itchy nose. So itchy in fact he snorted, sniffed, and rubbed it with such single-mindedness he nearly forgot he was due to Dr. Voster’s lab today. He breathed now, a slow and reverent inhale that squeaked around his blocked sinuses and added speed to the stroking sensation of those silken feathers.

His lips parted, his chest jumping with a sudden breath. He sighed it out, the ghost of a moan carried on his exhale.

“And once it starts, it is nigh impossible to stop. That tickle won’t let you. No matter how badly you might want a reprieve, those feathers are mindless. You can’t reason with them. They’ll just keep at their work, teasing and teasing that aching flesh until..”

The tickle buoyed him through a catching gasp. Omicron sighed again, his voice carrying, wanting. Another cresting gasp, the wave of something reachable, and then he fell short again. His nostrils pulsed plaintively, begging what dwelled inside to give him relief. But Omicron didn’t mind this limbo, this torture. He knew what came after would be well worth the wait.

“.. agitating.. working you over.. beckoning you with a relentless tickle.. until you can take it no longer.”

His chest swelled, and what he thought might be another forsaken gasp turned into the exclamation of climax. “HAH-.. BBZSSSSCHHUUHH!”

The first one came, because of course there would be more, and he snatched an arm around his middle when there was a strong, delicious undulation of pleasure deep in his gut. He groaned, his voice deep and gravelly and unfamiliar to his ears.

“Whoa!” came Delta’s exclamation. He sounded shocked. “That sure was something. Omicron, bless-”

“HEH-.. BBZSSSHHOO!.. nnnnghh.” 

These were smooth as butter - one big, long, scooping breath and then a knee-shaking release. He sniffled thickly, wetly, with his eyes shut in concentration. Omicron wanted another, and this time the tickle delivered. Those invisible feathers rustled like wheat in a windstorm, and he caught himself grinning as he gasped another huge breath. 

“HHHH!.. EHDZZSSSHUUE!!”

He swayed forward as another cramp of ecstasy swirled in his gut, and Omicron felt a strong hand brace his shoulder to keep him from tipping over.

“Is he okay?” was one faint voice.

“Yes, just-” came another.

Omicron sneezed.

“HIIH!.. IIHTDZZSSSHHHTT!! .. fuck.”

That one was particularly wet, fired haphazardly at the floor like the rest. It also contracted in a burst of stars behind his groin so intense that Omicron became instantly and fearfully aware that he would actually come in his pants if he kept this up. And holy shit he didn’t want that to happen. Not here. Not now. 

He jerked his free hand out, holding it expectantly toward the voices. With tremendous effort, he tried to be understood. “Tiih.. Tiizzusss.. HUH-”

“One second, one second!!” he heard Anita’s tempering assurances over the rush of blood in his ears. 

And the rush of ticklish sensation through his nose. He couldn’t get the visual of feathers out of his head. Delta, damn him. All Omicron could see behind the dark of his wet eyelids was a field of pristine, white, downy feathers positioned diabolically against every inch of his nasal walls. The tips of them wavered each time he hitched a stuttery inhale, and huffed a helpless exhale. They were devoid of life beyond that which he gave it, breathing intent into them as they swayed against swollen, irritated flesh. He could picture his nasal membranes flinching helplessly against the onslaught, crying out to him for relief. And he would give it-

“hH-.. uHH’TZZZSSSHHOOOO!!”

The feathers fluttered wildly and his nose calmed with a prickling balm, sated. Until he sniffled against the slogging block of congestion in his nose and what little air there was eeked through and-.. the feathers trembled, dragging their soft tips gingerly against his quivering flesh, an endless torment, so subtle yet compounding in its simplicity because he could feel the echoes of that tantalizing sensation all through his nose and as he snuffled against the feeling, the feathers trembled again as if in eagerness, excitement, their tendrils tracing long worn paths on fraught nerves as the aching pressure built and built in his nose, deep inside, and oh-.. ohh-

“hHHHHH-”

“Oh no you don’t.” 

The sudden presence of a hand over his nose surprised him, frightened the sneeze away, and Omicron felt an irrational pang of frustration when his gasp escaped from him with a gutteral hhuhh unrelieved. He realized in retrospect that the voice was Dr. Voster, and the hand belonged to her too. He also realized, in a wash of cold sweat, that he was achingly hard where his prick was tucked into his belt.

“Blow your nose, Omicron.”

He struggled to comply. A hitching breath got out of his control, only emboldening the tickle, and again he thought of the feathers. They were everywhere, impossible to blow out, and they’d just keep… keep-

“RRZZSSSSCHH’HOO!”

It tore out of him with a passion, and the pleasure washed over him so fiercely he would have gone to his knees had Delta not stepped in to catch him. Omicron panicked, bursting into motion to put distance between himself and the others. They let him go, only for him to stumble backwards onto his ass. The impact shook an impending sneeze out the queue, and Omicron had a moment to collect his bearings.

He quickly got to his hands and knees, trying to keep his crotch pointed to the floor. He was still painfully hard, but thankfully he hadn’t managed to sneeze himself into orgasm. Now that he had his wits, he realized he still had the wad of tissues in his hand. He brought them to his face and blew as hard as he could, concentrating only on the act of getting something out rather than thinking too hard about what was happening inside.

Adrenaline and humiliation were quick and quiet boner killers; any residual arousal swirling in his thoughts extinguished as he assessed his situation. He was somewhat sweaty, stained with a few of his own sneezes, and his damn nose still tickled. Omicron threw caution to the wind and rubbed it with fast, punishing pressure against his septum, as if to admonish it. Rather than chance a sniffle, he breathed only through his mouth as he climbed to his feet.

Both Dr. Voster and Agent Delta regarded him warily. Omicron straightened his vest, his jacket, and smoothed back his hair where it had fallen into his eyes. 

“Pardod be,” he rasped, still breathless. He coughed into his fist to clear his throat.

Delta’s features eased into genuine concern. The man’s flippant nature notwithstanding, he did care about his people. “Agent, are you alright?”

“Of course,” insisted Omicron. He cleared his throat again. “Just fine. Why?”

“Well, that just..” Delta looked over to Dr. Voster, who was refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “.. it seemed very intense, don’t you think? Doctor?”

The doctor startled at her name, then reached to adjust her glasses. She looked now at Omicron, her expression as hard and firm as her voice. “Yes, I agree. And I would recommend..”

Here, Omicron bit his tongue. If Anita really did want to rat him out, he’d only dig his own grave if he tried to deflect. But then her eyes softened.

“.. that Agent Omicron desist from triggering the suggestion impulse until this initial sensitivity wears off.”

Tension left his shoulders. He closed his eyes briefly in relief.

Delta rubbed the back of his neck, contrite. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realize it was an issue. You should have told me!”

“I wasn’t aware it was a pattern until you tried it, sir,” said Dr. Voster. She crossed her arms and nodded toward Omicron. “And with all due respect, sir, you should really apologize to Agent O.”

Delta turned to him with dewy puppy-dog eyes and Omicron wanted to evaporate out of embarrassment. He didn’t do well with anything sentimental and at times his superior was pure sentimentality. “Forgive me, Omicron. I hope I didn’t cause you any distress. I’m sure that wasn’t comfortable.”

On the contrary, thought Omicron, but admitting anything even close to the truth made his tongue wither. His cheeks burned, and to add further indignity, he sniffled. The brief, tickling swell prompted him to thumb the end of his nose to encourage good behavior. 

“Not at all, sir. Please don’t trouble yourself over it.”

Delta clapped him companionably on the shoulder, and when he turned toward Dr. Voster, Omicron leaned around him to throw a scathing look her way. She only smiled. That prompted apology was likely just her getting some revenge. To be frank, the new complication of sneeze-induced arousal would absolutely complicate the mission, but Omicron begged to be given a case like this for months. More than a year, even. He’d take the risk rather than give this up.

Besides, it wasn’t his fault his nose couldn’t calm down. He didn’t conduct a half-baked intake interview and design an overpowered tickle virus, so why should he be the one to suffer the consequences? Beyond those he was already suffering, he supposed.

Once again, thinking too much about it summoned the tickle forth. Omicron refused to get stuck in another self-perpetuated sneeze-cycle, so he focused only on the wall as the urge lapped at the edges of his sinuses. Oh, the ones that made him wait were the worst.

“.. to it that we grab your luggage on the way to the jet,” Delta was saying. He still had his hand on Omicron’s shoulder and squeezed when he got no response. “You already packed right?”

Omicron took a breath to reply, but it hitched in his throat. Then rushed out with a soft uhh that he couldn’t suppress. Gone were the days when he could quietly build up to a sneeze; it seemed this virus wanted everybody to know as soon as his nose started to tickle. He fought to keep his eyes open, and his ears from flushing red.

“.. yeh..hssirr..”

Delta’s smile tilted back into concerned territory, and he rubbed Omicron’s shoulder. “Looking a little sneezy, Agent. Try not to knock yourself down this time.”

Omicron huffed a laugh that trembled into a gasping inhale, a fitful exhale, an even more urgent inhale-.. “-uUHH!” and then left him on a frustrated sigh. He rubbed his face with both hands. “Fuck,” he mumbled. Then his head shot up in alarm. “Oh-.. ah, sir-...”

Agent Delta only laughed, booming and cheerful as he slid his arm further across Omicron’s shoulders to give him a jostling side-hug. “Don’t worry, Agent. These are extenuating circumstances, I’ll let that it slide.”

Omicron nodded as he was jerked around by Delta’s strength, reaching up to push his hair back when it fell out of style again. His nose was still tingling, unrelieved, and he scrunched it with exasperation. Sneeze or don’t sneeze, won’t you? 

“Off we go!” crowed Delta, escorting Omicron toward the door while still under his arm. He looked back to Dr. Voster. “I’ll be with him on the flight, so we’ll let you know if there are any case developments.”

He tightened his hold when he said this, and Omicron fought down a flash of annoyance that Delta probably meant any developments with Agent Omicron’s nose. Speaking of which… 

Omicron let his eyes roll shut as Delta led him into the hall, their footsteps echoing down the corridor. He was saying something, probably about the jet, but Omicron let the words wash over him just as he let the tickle wash through his nose. Wary of what might happen, he strayed away from thinking too much about feathers. Instead, he thought of dust motes. A dandelion seed. Something small and irritating and hopelessly stuck somewhere deep inside him. Whatever it was, this thing wanted to escape. It squirmed and twisted, fluttered its wings or flicked its tail. The throbbing urgency of Omicron’s tender pink membranes wouldn’t deter it, neither would the gradual unsteadiness of his breath. He exhaled, yearning.

“..uh-..”

The invader redoubled its efforts, writhing against his most sensitive places. He couldn’t-.. he..

“.. huhh-..”

If only he could reason with it, but on a baser level, Omicron didn’t want to. He wanted it to flap and struggle, tickle and itch, uncontrollable and impossible to satiate. Fan the flames of this urge so feverish that he couldn’t do anything but-

“HAH-!”

Omicron found himself smiling again, delirious as he breathed into this unstoppable force. He was completely helpless to its thrall. This thing in him, nuzzling and ruffling and bothering his nose so fervently, dotingly, sweeping him up with its caress. He.. oh-.. oh-!

“S’combi’g-” He gasped out, if only just to himself. The breathy word preceded an absolutely euphoric sneeze. “WRIZZSSSSHUUU’uoohhhh…”

Omicron stayed as he was, one hand cupped to his nose and the other bracing his middle. Another dagger of pleasure had stabbed him through, but it was fast to dissipate as he sniffled into his palm. The way his nose tingled signaled a temporary relief. Omicron couldn’t decide if he was disappointed by this or not.

“Goodness, bless you!” Omicron jumped. Delta stood beside him, both hands in his pockets now, looking amused. Omicron had forgotten he was there. “That was a big one! Sounds like you worked your way up to it.”

Why was Omicron cursed with the chattiest superior Agent in the force? He snuffled again behind his hand, by habit searching his pockets for a handkerchief or a restaurant napkin, anything. He paused when Delta extended a travel pack of tissues. 

“Thought you might need these, so I brought a few packs along.”

“.. Tha’g you.” 

Omicron took it with grace, turning around so he could use both hands. He blew his nose yet again, dismayed with the sheer amount of moisture he was capable of producing. At this rate he’d need to stay hydrated. Once he finished up, he turned back to Delta to find him extending a small bottle of hand sanitizer. He eyed the other man.

“You can’t actually catch this, sir.”

“I know, Agent, but the public won’t know that,” he said, as carefree as ever. “And even if you’re not actually sick, better to keep your hands clean, mm? And maybe try the vampire trick too.” Here he demonstrated by lifting his elbow and tucking his nose in. 

Omicron burned with the embarrassment of having his lackadaisical sneezing addressed in such an obvious way. Normally he was very thorough with his hygiene practices. He sneezed into his elbow or better, a handkerchief if he had one. He washed his hands frequently and properly. Something about this tickle just emptied his head of all sense when it came over him. It was a miracle he’d managed to even cup a hand to his mouth just now. He didn’t remember doing that.

So he could only nod, his cheeks burning, as he took the bottle and copiously applied. The stringent scent bloomed in the air. Delta could probably tell he was upset because he gave the shorter agent a lighthearted slap on the back. “You’re usually very conscientious. Just a gentle reminder, agent.”

Omicron nodded again, this time with a yip of surprise as his eyes slammed closed. Suddenly his nose was frenzied, filled to the brim with that strong, alcoholic smell. It burned, so sharp it brought tears to his eyes as he rushed his elbow to his face. Unlike the other sneezes of this morning, this itch wasn’t indulgent. It was almost brutal. 

“Chssh-! Tschh!” Even without muffling into his jacket, they would have been small. Smaller than his normal sneezes, even. They were fittish, barely letting him up for air. “Itschh! HHtschh!.. uh-.. TSSH’hee!!.. fucking hell..”

It only lasted seconds, over as suddenly as it began, and Omicron picked his head up blearily. He sniffled, coughing again at the remaining scent on his hands as he fished out another tissue and nursed his nose. Stupid thing was so needy now, he couldn’t even use hand sanitizer without a complaint. Belatedly he realized he’d cursed in front of his superior again.

When he looked at Delta, the man was regarding him thoughtfully. Not his usual fond musing sort of look either. The kind of discerning expression that awarded him the rank he currently held. Omicron’s blinked at him, wide eyed over the edge of his tissues.

“S-Sorry for sweari’g, sir..”

Delta stirred from wherever he’d been, and dropped into a polite smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s alright, Omicron, I honestly don’t mind. But, I’ll ask this again: are you alright?”

Omicron blinked at him again, owlish. “Me, sir?”

Delta chuffed an airy chuckle. “Yes, agent, you. You’re sure this..” He warred over his words, trying to pick the best ones. “I know you’ve been waiting a long time for this opportunity, but are you sure? About this?”

Omicron bristled, and he was certain Delta could tell. He finished up with his nose, balling up the tissue and foregoing hand sanitizer this time. “Respectfully, why wouldn’t I be sure, sir?”

“This science isn’t exact,” Delta told him. His voice was lower now, the proper tone of a superior officer. “Dr. Voster is a genius, but this is the first time we’ve tried something like this. There’s bound to be a margin of error. So I’m asking you again, Agent Omicron..” Here he fixed his subordinate with a firm stare. “.. are you sure about doing this right now, as you are, in this state?”

Omicron didn’t have to think about it. He merely drew himself up to a force-standard posture and looked Delta in the eyes without flinching. “Yes, sir. Very sure.”

Delta held his stare, but when Omicron didn’t buckle, he sagged where he stood. With a long sigh, he once again patted Omicron’s shoulder. “Alright, agent. But if you change your mind or if you become compromised, you must be honest and tell me immediately. Am I understood?”

Omicron just barely managed to resist twitching his nose; he could feel it wanting attention, but didn’t want to give Delta any reason to doubt him. “Of course, sir.”

Delta gave him a jaunty thumbs up, back to his usual lofty cheer. “Grand! I’ll take you at your word.” He turned away, beginning to stride down the corridor with expectation Omicron would follow. “Now, we ought to get a move on. They’ve got the jet idling and you know how they are about the fuel budget..”

Agent Delta carried on, blind to his subordinate keeping step behind him. Omicron absently, then more purposefully, rubbed his nose. The skin was starting to sting, no doubt ready to peel by tomorrow like sunburn. The tickle stretched languidly, lazily working Omicron up to another toe-curling sneeze. The hedonist in him wanted to welcome it.

However, he had nearly twelve hours on a jet to contend with, surrounded by other personnel. And he was certain now after that little conversation with Delta that the man would be watching Omicron carefully from here on out. If he noticed anything suspicious, he’d ground the mission and take Omicron off the case without remorse. He couldn’t let it happen, not after how hard he’d fought for this.

His nostrils flared against his finger, a premature warning to what was brewing. But Omicron knew, and he was prepared for the impending battle. It wouldn’t be easy, but he fully intended to negotiate with his nose and keep sneezing to nil on the flight. Almost nil, if he couldn’t hold out. Again his nostrils flared, as if playfully chiding him. You’re not in control, his nose seemed to say. I am.

Well, thought Omicron as he stepped out of the jet bay and into the sunshine. The jet sat waiting on the tarmac, a flurry of activity around it. We’ll just see about that.

/tbc??

I’m not sure if I’ll continue it, but I hope you had fun reading!! Part 2 is in the works!

[yandere-romanticaa]

I seriously have to stop falling for BookTok hype. Most of the books have the exact same formula and I am getting so tired of it.

Fourth Wing, ACOTAR, Powerless - these are just a few that I've read in the past year and it all feels like the same story told over and over again.

I will tell you the plot for all of these books right now - hot but poor little petite girl is really weak but she's stubborn, which that makes her strong and special. Little petite girl meets a big strong man who is in some high position of power, he's natrually handsome, is amazing in bed and is also often a little tan. Big strong man falls head over heels for petite girl, there is a plethora of sexy banter between them and the book may or may not end on a little cliffhanger but you know that they will all be fine in the end.

And look, I'm not here to give you shit for liking these books. I feel as though they're the female versions of standard male power fantasies. For example, most isekai anime have a male protagonist who is the strongest character in the show and he ends up getting a harem of women who love him. Women meanwhile usually like to read more than men so their needs are usually catered to here. The things that the fem MC has to overcome are usually easy to read and are typically creative, which gives the story a bit of an edge, especially if you're a very casual reader who just wants to shut off her brain for a while.

But I just find it so interesting how the modern writer has mastered this very specific formula which manages to cater to the masses, especially BookTok. I've noticed that a lot of books have started to advertize themselves as tropes such as Enemies to Lovers in order to look more appealing online, which feels a little tiring sometimes.

I also feel tired at how cheated I feel whenever I read these books and just go. Oh. That's it?? Boo!!!!

If you love these kinds of stories, knock yourself out. Have fun with them, I don't see them going away anytime soon. Hell, I am someone who legit enjoyed Haunting Adeline of all things (and the creators other works) while still thinking that the book is kinda shit LOL.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Do you have an HP character that you hate or dislike other than Ginny? I'm curious because you seem kind of neutral toward most characters, so I was wondering if you have one

Yep, a bunch.

Some more controversial than others I guess.

I do want to preface this by saying that I have nothing against anyone who likes any of these characters, liking a fictional character is pretty subjective and I don't really care. I would also like to note there are different ways to like/dislike a fictional character.

1. Due to their personality or morals, i.e. who they are as a person

2. Due to how they are written, i.e. if they function well in their part in the narrative.

As such, there could be characters that are horrible people but are fun and interesting characters, so I love them (such as Voldemort) or characters that are good people who I dislike because I think they're badly written or underwhelming in how they are written compared to what they could've been. Similarly, there are badly written characters I like because they are fun or dislike because I don't vibe with them. So, all this shouldn't be taken all that seriously.

While Ginny definitely has aspects in her personality that I don't like, the main reason I dislike her is how she is written. I like meaner and ruder characters than her because they are interesting and serve their narrative rule well. I consider her a badly written love interest though, so my dislike of her on both fronts, but mostly due to the second category that feeds into the first one. The idea of Ginny could've been alright if she was written better, I wouldn't even care that much if she was mean if she was a more interesting character that felt like a real person (Like Hermione or Harry that have their mean moments, but I love Harry and like Hermione).

Now, onto other characters I dislike from commonly disliked by the fandom to controversial takes:

1. There are typical ones to dislike, like Umbridge, whom I despise as a person, and everything she represents but she's a great villain who serves her role in the narrative brilliantly. She's on this list because I don't find her interesting enough (like Voldemort or Bellatrix) or fun enough (like Rita Skeeter) to like her as a character.

2 & 3. Vernon and Petunia. For obvious reasons I expanded upon here. They are another example of characters you are meant to hate so they are written well for what they need to be. (Though I don't hate Dudley who's also a character you are meant to dislike)

4. Crouch Sr. I don't think this is controversial at all, but Crouch Sr is a git. I mean, sentencing Sirius to Azkaban without trial, everything with his son (even if he was a Death Eater, 12 years in a basement under the Imperius is extreme and Barty probably wished to die), Winkey, etc. So, personality-wise, he sucks. Writing-wise, I think he's great for what he is meant to be in the story. JKR is pretty good at writing characters you just hate the moment they open their mouths and Crouch Sr is one of them.

5. Amos Diggory. He is another member of the "characters you are meant to hate club", so I hate him as a person, which is kind of the point with him. And the only explanation is this entire conversation:

“Harry fell off his broom, Dad,” he muttered. “I told you . . . it was an accident. . . .” “Yes, but you didn’t fall off, did you?” roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. “Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman . . . but the best man won, I’m sure Harry’d say the same, wouldn’t you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don’t need to be a genius to tell which one’s the better flier!”

(GoF, Ch6)

Made my blood boil.

6. Fudge is another typical one, but like, I hate that guy's guts. Again, it's because I hate him as a person. As a character, he is what he needs to be, so I have no complaints about how he is written. Being a pathetic, incompetent fool is part of his narrative role. (Again, a character you are meant to hate).

7. Quick round for honorary mentions of the characters you are meant to hate club I dislike that I am not as passionate about my dislike of them but I still actively dislike them: Cormac McLaggen, Marietta Edgecomb, Rufus Scrimgeour, Mundungus, the Carrows.

(Zacharias Smith and Blaise Zabini are also part of the above club, but I love them, so they're not on the list. Fenrir, Rita, and Ludo Bagman aren't on the list because I find them entertaining although the reader is supposed to dislike them. Filch is a useful character and has his fun moments as well, so I'm fine with him. I also like random DE Avery because I like his name)

8. I'm weird about Albus Dumbledore. I think he's an interesting character, though I have some gripes with how he was written, and I would find him infuriating as a person. If I had to talk with Dumbledore irl, I'd have to fight the urge to strangle him (not that I actually would, or could since he's really tall and I doubt I could reach his throat). I understand Tom completely when it comes to wanting to kill Dumbledore.

9. Arabella Figg. Rubs me the wrong way and I don't like her as a person. It might be due to the writing but I never cared enough to analyze my feelings toward her — which are negative. I mean, she didn't do shit to help Harry even though she knew and was in touch with Dumbledore + didn't help him at all with carrying Dudley which would've been in her best interest since it'll get them back to the Dursleys quicker. So, I think she's not a great person who doesn't really care about Harry or is very ignorant and passive — when I need to question whether a character is malicious or incompetent it's not a good thing when the character is supposed to be one of the good guys.

10. Alaster Moody (the real one). I don't think this is a common opinion, but I really don't like the real Moody both as a person and as a character. Writing-wise, he's a little blander than I'd expect from someone like him. Also, after Barty acts him as such a fun character, meeting the real one is kind of a letdown since he isn't as inspirational and fun as the imposter (this is how I figured out I just like Barty Crouch Jr). This is a writing flaw, I think, since you are supposed to like Moody. I think. Personality-wise, I don't like him. He rubbed me off the wrong way, I hate his complete trust and devotion toward Dumbledore, his opinions and treatment of Harry, and his general incompetence:

“Come here, boy,” said Moody gruffly, beckoning Harry toward him with his wand. “I need to Disillusion you.”

(OotP, Ch3) - sounds too much like Vernon for my liking

“Clear night,” grunted Moody, his magical eye scanning the heavens. “Could’ve done with a bit more cloud cover. Right, you,” he barked at Harry, “we’re going to be flying in close formation.

(OotP, Ch3) - an experienced, intelligent auror would not come up with this plan or think this plan is valid. He is a moron and for some reason not treated as such. At least Kingsley has some good ideas throughout the books and shows he's competent, Moody has close to zero competent moments. I think that's a writing flaw though.

“Yeah, well,” said Moody, “there’s something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that.”

(OotP, Ch22) - I do not like the Harry slander. While Moody does things to protect and help Harry (because Dumbledore told him to) I don't think he actually likes Harry much.

11. This is not a very popular opinion, I think, but I don't like Lupin. In both categories. Personality-wise, he's allergic to responsibility and never actually tries to bond with Harry, going out of his way to not mention he was friends with James. He is so stuck in indecision that he allows Sirius, who he thinks is a serial killer to enter the school. And he attempts to run away from his pregnant wife. Writing-wise, I like the concept of Lupin, not the execution. How he is makes sense for what we know about his life, but I find him underwhelming as a character. Mostly, I find him disappointing since he is less interesting of a character than I think he could've been.

(Peter is not on this list as I have no complaints about how he was written for his role in the story. Also, unlike Remus, I didn't expect better from Peter. I was ready to be disappointed by him and he positively surprised me by having a better character arc than Remus. I dislike Remus because I had higher expectations from him and his narrative arc)

Also, this quote from Remus really soured his character for me, which I was indifferent towards until OotP:

Harry, I’ve left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry —” “They won’t,” said Harry. “That you’re safe —” “That’ll just depress them.” “— and you’ll see them next summer.” “Do I have to?” Lupin smiled but made no answer.

(OotP, Ch3)

(I have other characters I find annoying such as Draco, Trelawney, or Colin Creevey, characters I don't really vibe with such as Ollivanders or Pansy, and characters I find dull such as Crabbe and Goyle but I don't actively dislike them enough, like, I'm mostly indifferent to mildly annoyed by them, so they don't count).

[9210n]

I'm not, this blog is genuinly so great it's amazing

Spotted the blog in martyns discord again.

...

....

...

I

Am

Shocked right now

[coraniaid]

Okay, look:

The reason people often read Faith as being openly and unashamedly attracted to women (or at least more so than Buffy) isn't because they somehow missed the fact that Faith is full of ill-disguised self-hatred. (Of course she is, that's fundamental to her character.) It's not because they missed the fact Faith flirts with random men all the time but doesn't do the same thing with women. It's not because they missed the fact Faith never actually refers to herself as a lesbian or as bisexual and never mentions any previous girlfriends when she's describing her dating history to Buffy. It's not because they missed that she never openly asks Buffy out.

Given the era in which Buffy was made -- given that Eliza Dushku was being given explicit instructions by at least some of the writers to dial down any lesbian subtext as late as her appearances in Season 1 of Angel -- all that is kind of a given. (I think some people in today's fandom really underestimate just how much of a huge deal Willow coming out in Season 4 was. This was not something that happened on popular genre TV programs. By modern standards the show is painfully coy about it, but that is not how contemporary audiences saw it!)

It's not because they feel asleep during Who Are You? and never saw how Faith interacts with Tara, either. (Which, sure, you can interpret as Faith projecting her own internalized homophobia onto Tara if you like. But which you can also explain pretty easily when you remember that Faith really doesn't like Willow -- she's just been reminded in an earlier scene how much Willow doesn't like her, which she responded to by immediately fantasizing about stabbing her -- and that she's doing this because she doesn't want Willow to be happy.)

No, the reason for thinking that Faith is open and unashamed of her sexuality in a way Buffy isn't is that this is the obvious conclusion you reach once you start to take the queer-coding of being a Slayer seriously.

If Slaying is a metaphor for queerness -- which moments like Joyce reacting to Buffy coming out as Slayer in Season 2's Becoming ("it's because you didn't have a strong father figure, isn't it?") or later talking about "marching in the Slayer Pride parade" in Season 3 or, as early as Season 1's Never Kill A Boy On The First Date and as late as series finale Chosen, Slaying being given as a reason Buffy can't have a "normal" relationship (i.e. one with a boy) or ever make "the guy thing" work all suggest it is -- then what does that imply about Buffy and Faith's respective attitudes to Slaying?

Well, Buffy spends years hiding the fact she's a Slayer from her mother, only ever shares this part of herself with a handful of trusted friends, openly wishes at times that she could give up being the Slayer, tells herself that being a Slayer makes her "a freak", insists against all evidence that she doesn't really enjoy Slaying. And Faith tells people she's only just met how much she loves Slaying ("Buffy never talks that way!" Joyce notes when Faith comes around for dinner), doesn't try to live the double-life Buffy has pursued (where she's both a Slayer and a "normal girl"), and repeatedly challenges Buffy to admit that Slaying is "fun" and something she wants to do for its own sake ("tell me you don't get off on this?" she asks in Bad Girls).

I mean, am I wedded to this being the best or only interpretation of the character? No, not at all. As I said, Faith's self-loathing is a huge part of her characterisation, and -- even if it's not something that originally stems from her (assumed) attraction to women -- it makes sense it would bleed through into it. You can tie that back into the metaphorical reading too, pretty easily. Faith isn't as happy and confident about being a Slayer as she pretends to be. She isn't having as much fun as she'd like Buffy to think she is. She is, in fact, jealous of Buffy's "normal" life.

But I think, if you're going to be critical of this reading of the character, you have to seriously engage with why it's popular. People don't just assume Faith is unashamed of being attracted to women because they just decided she should be and they're ignoring all the explicit clues to the contrary. Rather, they're approaching the show in the context of US network television in the late 1990s -- when explicit confirmation of a character being anything other than straight was almost unthinkable -- and taking their cues from the metaphorical reading instead.

And from that lens, "Faith is proud to be a 'Slayer' [if you know what I mean] and enjoys spending the night 'Slaying' with other 'Slayers'" really is the natural conclusion to come to.

[aaxzlyte]

please elaborate on the breast size thing

LMFAO OKAY, ANON – i will give you some of my headcanons on this with little to no explanation (only doing gender swapped characters so no characters that are already female and technically have canonical breast sizes since like... we see their breasts)

Light: generally considered to have conventionally attractive looks, but also is a very average person, therefore — C or D

L: definitely has smaller tits and i think she would forgo wearing bras (or any undergarments, though i think she'd prefer to wear boxers/briefs over traditional women's undergarments) whenever she can get away with it (which is always),,, and larger breasts do not allow for such careless behavior tsk tsk — low-scale B or A

Near: very 'petite' person, i think... i also hc Near, in general, to be consistently underweight and obv we already know she is pretty short — AAA maybe AA, if i'm being generous I will give her an A cup

Mello: also smaller than average tits, imo,,, partly bc there is no way she is shoving huge melons into that damn leather she wears all of the time — B

Matsuda: i love her, give her — D or DD

Aizawa: holy mama, this bitch is either flat-chested or huge when it comes to her tits let me be so honest — A or DDD

Ryuk: *taps mic and leans in* Z cups – okay but in all seriousness,,, human, female Ryuk is definitely pretty large, i imagine she'd be pretty tall though fairly slender? he and Rem's torso are suuuuuper wide at the top though — F

Mikami: honestly she definitely has some pretty decently sized tits bc like... c'mon... — DD or DDD

Soichiro: — DD

Mogi: (do you guys think she'd let me call her Mo–) — G

Raye: *sighs* — B or C

Watari: uhhhhh — D or C

Beyond: i hc that her breasts are larger than L, like at least a little noticeably larger,, and that she may have used binding as a way to seem more L-like during the LABB murders,, but she does still give me small tits energy – between a B and C (so basically... BB)

okay that's all hehe – let me know if i missed someone you want to know about bc i love coming up with shit off the top of my head and then letting it become canon in my brain (also i'm open to hearing your guys' opinions about this very serious topic of conversation within the DN fandom),,, also i'll answer questions asking me to elaborate on why i think a certain character is that big or whatever but keep in mind i'm going mostly off of vibes and not much else

also please keep in mind that i am a sucker for small breasts... i love small breasts... cue wistful sighing – this post is not exempt from extreme biases (they're literally my headcanons so that was probably obvious but i'm a chronic oversharer, i fear)

please keep in mind that this is all in good fun and just a headcanon,,, please don't start arguments over the size of a character's breast – it would be hilarious but exhausting !!

[pepper-flakes]

rlly wanted to draw melt since she's such a long time favorite servant of mine,,, 👉👈 I love the kind of woman that will actually just kill me

[hotdogmchiggin]

Aw shit they put the horrors of late stage capitalism into my Pokémon Mystery Dungeon 😔

(Mostly) Based on the mouthwashing dev QnA about each character’s favorite Pokémon. Couldn’t get the idea of throwing them into PMD out of my head.

Typical job at the Poke Express Guild:

Some more bonus drawings below

Jimmy secretly wishes he was a mega rayquaza but he’s just a poser who’s obsessed with pikachu’s popularity and position as the mascot. So. A mimikyu.

Daisuke is a zorua because it’s the closest to weregarurumon and I think it matches his vibes. Just a guy who causes a little bit o mischief here n there :)

I did make Daisukes weregarurumon wishes come true (No mega rayquaza for jim)

I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do with the background so I threw them into the dungeon. WOE upon ye

[welcometogrouchland]

my Stephanie Brown hot take is that she should get mad bitches now that she's single in comics. Yes yes shipping BUT the one time she had sex she was punished by the narrative via teen pregnancy. I think she should be allowed to have as much sex as she wants with zero consequences. Could be a lot of sex, could be a little. Point is she should get to do it without getting narratively baby trapped this time. she should get them pregnant, actually.

[bitchfitch]

I've started playing Potion Permit, and so far it's one of my favorite games I've messed around with, but the most big brained move the devs made was giving you a dog on day 1, and then making that dog able to track NPCs and lead you directly to them no matter where they are in the town.

[camellcat]

it confuses me when people say they like willow or xander and then get all uncomfortable and condemning about, like... major parts about them. you don't like that they're wildly possessive of which often leads them to acting irrational and awful...... which is like one of their biggest traits? oh, and you hate that they're not fantastic friends to buffy............. which is also like. how they are. pretty much the entire time we know them. okay!

wow, you find xander to be annoying bc he's a dumb dude who seriously needs to unlearn some ideals and really outta treat his girlfriends nicer. I'm dismayed at his typical guy-ness. bummer, we don't enjoy that willow is like totally abusive when it comes to exerting whatever power can get over people. that sure is a bad thing she does.

I just. I like them BECAUSE of these things idk how the hell you could possibly separate these things from them and still enjoy these characters it boggles my mind

[spacedlexi]

A little while ago you said that you have nuanced feelings on Clem x Louis, and I think that’s how I’d describe my opinion on the ship as well. I was just wondering, what makes you feel that way? Personally, I think they’re romance scenes are cute and sweet, but the whole situation with Marlon makes me unable to see them as anything other than friends. I think they both mean a lot to each other, but the idea that they’d want to date so soon after that whole ordeal’s a bit of a stretch to me.

putting this under a read more so if anyone even Thinks they might get upset about mild louis opinions they can move on and stay happy. seriously people take this stuff too seriously sometimes and i dont want to stir anyone up but also im allowed to have my own opinions OKAY. none of this means i dont like him or them OKAY??

okay

thats pretty much where my opinions are too

the stuff with marlon and the vote is Definitely the biggest thing that influences my opinion about their romance. i always forget just how Cruel he is in EP2 😭 like im on your side dude what aj did was wrong can we just talk about this 😭 but he votes to kick them out. like his reaction about marlon doesnt bother me, its his insistence on kicking them out that does 😔 my clem will always forgive him for it, i believe him when he says he regrets it, but its gonna take some time for trust to build again. for both of them

having only one scene between his apology and the lock in was just not gonna happen for my clem. she was mad at him for it. aj almost died because of it. she might be doing better now but she still has trust issues and her trust was broken just as much as his was. he was fine with never seeing her again, sending her and aj out to their deaths because he struggled to accept his confused feelings about marlon. that pissed my clem off shdfksd she is barely keeping this child alive let alone herself. her face when ajs kicking the wall bro she was like "its so fucking over" 😭 cmon bro look at her shes dead inside have some compassion. and he still hits her with the "i dont know [if i want you to stay]" even after aj gets shot like cmon man...... Cmon.........

and while shes waiting for louis to finally be ready to talk about what happened with marlon (which my clem apologizes for in the dorm, she does genuinely feel bad about it), her and violet are only growing closer, focusing on preparing the school together for the bigger problem. clem knowing vi has her back is a huge source of relief in everything thats going on, and that means a Lot for my clem, who appreciates the idea of having a partner she can rely on. my clem is already sure of her feelings for vi by the time louis apologizes. but she appreciates his apology, and is looking forward to being friends again, because she did genuinely appreciate his friendship at the beginning. but her heart was really truly Broken about everything with marlon and the vote and i think thats gonna take more time to heal. depending on player choice some clems might not even forgive him (some others might say he was right and that clem didnt stop it but... i do not agree with that.. like how could she have... aasim calls mitch a hypocrite for saying the same thing)

the other less important thing is just his general blasé attitude. my clem takes things seriously, but that doesnt mean she doesnt know how to have fun. she Wants to. she just Cant. she has a child to take care of first, and she cares about the survival of the group. its why my clem is looking for someone she knows she can rely on. she never wanted any of this, and she just wants a little support, someone to help take the weight off so she CAN relax. shes so tired 😭. playing with louis while aasim hunts by himself made me feel Dirty 💀 (i literally couldnt do it the first time i felt so bad AASIM WAIT UP). and while i can understand and appreciate his "there might not be a tomorrow so enjoy today" outlook, it cant come at the expense of the group. louis i feel eventually learns this, finding a balance between the two, and Becomes someone clem can rely on. but his change doesnt begin until like.. after the raiders take everyone (because we have to get through the marlon stuff first). and if you save vi, you dont get to see any of it 😔

the thing about these two problems is that, if you were to take them out of this setting and throw them in like, a modern au, suddenly these are not issues anymore. no more life or death. the stakes are a lot lower. so i can see them dating in that scenario and having fun together. they do have cute moments!! but also due to less stakes, theres less to motivate louis to change. and i think they would fundamentally just not click on their worldviews. clem while she can have fun, ultimately takes things seriously, and louis doesnt. that doesnt mean they dont care about each other, and clem definitely appreciates his energy, but its why i see them still ending up as friends instead of romantic partners (esp if vi is around IM SORRY 😭 they just Click too well for me 😔 this is why my messy au exists 💀)

i also understand this is mostly personal preference and some people might like them for these reasons 😭 but the dynamic that they have i prefer as friends personally. theyre supportive of each other and deeply care about each other, just not romantically imo. especially not after the stuff with marlon. and thats ok!!!! i see it a lot like louis' relationship with vi. not romantic. but they Love each other regardless. honestly the reason why i like clem vi and louis as a trio so much is that clem slots between them really well. louis who doesnt take anything seriously, and vi who takes things Too seriously. clem exists between them. knowing having fun is important but also understanding the weight of responsibility. she helps louis become more responsible, and she helps vi chill the fuck out. she brings balance :)

i will say tho louis' "nothing wrong with short and sweet, right?" line was cute he got me there

[jessamine-rose]

*squeezes aine this time*

Read my Yandere! Dottore fics first (⁎⁍̴̆Ɛ⁍̴̆⁎)

Chemistry ๑ Magnum Opus

So @ainescribe decided to surprise me with more Darling fan art, this time of Dottore’s Assistant!! *sobs* I love it so much ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Once again, feedback will be in the tags. Thank you so much for enjoying my writing, Aine <3

[mbat]

stories about redemption and redeeming even the worst characters, they could never make me hate you

[fandomcrazy]

This is all based on a dream I had that woke me up coughing my lungs out (not related to the dream, I've just been sick the past few days)

Hawks quirk (from mha if it wasn’t clear) being Robyn's quirk

Her apartment is in the sky (like actually I'm not even joking, it's just hanging there by pure magic) and right across from the lecture hall she takes notes from with her super vision (part of the quirk ig)

Steve becomes her roommate

Before she meets steve she's known nancy for a while now

Nancy think steve might not know Robyn's a lesbian but Robyn let's her know that "no yeha I told him everything we've been talking about this hot girl that literally everyone in town knows and how her nose is so perfect and how she's so graceful and-"

"Yes Robyn I get the point" Nancy says.

Steve up until this point just thought they were making conversation and was getting to know his potential date. His world view comes crashing down after only hearing Robyn's side of the conversation with Nancy on the phone.

Steve has a mental quirk so it doesn't outwardly show that much except for the little details around his body. Robyn doesn't know what the quirk is (neither do i honestly) and doesn’t remember to ask. Steve appreciates this and is large bonus to having Robyn as his roommate/friend(?).

Most people don't like going to Robyn's apartment because you need to activate your quirk to get there and you need to be synced up with her security feed, which takes a lot of patience and time to do. Steve feels conflicted about hearing this. On one hand it's good because that guarantees almost no one will be able to get to him here but he has to use his quirk everytime he wants to go home.

Now the rest of the Hawkins gang have all been synced up to the security monitor just in case, except for the quirkless and mutation type quirks but they still have a system for that. Almost everyone asks Robyn once in a while if she can just fly them there instead of them activating probably dangerous or embarrassing or not easily accessible quirks. No one else except robyn in the Hawkins gang has a transmutation quirk until Eddie comes along with bat wings on his back at all times. Robyn are the same in that sense, that they can both fly but Eddie can't exactly fly over large bodies of water and he's not as fast as her. No one is as fast as Robyn everyone in the party has agreed.

Robyn knows what she's capable of. She knows she could easily cheat during tests or quizzes at her university without getting caught but she just. Doesn't want to. She wants to prove to herself that she can accomplish something without resorting to taking the easy way out. If she has to bomb 3/4 of tests she takes than so be it as long as she doesn't get thrown put of the university she doesn't care. She'll work double shifts if it means getting to prove that she can do things herself. (This might or might not lead to her slowly neglecting herself and her needs, needing someone to make her understand spreading herself so thin she can barely hold her wings up in the sky is not proving anything to anyone, especially herself(Steve says all this yall, maybe less eloquently but the point gets across)). Maybe this all started from a young age when her parents expected a lot from her, expected her to solve all their problems for them (maybe financial? Idk) and it just made her more convinced to not do anything for themn, but for herself. And although, at the time, this kind of thinking was healthy, it was not sustainable in the long run after separating herself from them in the future.

Oh uhhh heros and villains don't exist, quirks and criminals exist. There is technology created that stuns a persons quirk factor and makes them immobile (paralyzed) temporarily. This technology was used on Steve as a child to make him more "docile".

I like to give as much angst to characters that I think would look hot being pathetic wet dogs-

Robyn and Nancy end up together obvi (if you didn't catch it up there, Nancy was a little jealous of Robyn talking about someone she might be interested in like that that isn't her (that was literally her who Robyn described but whatever)).

Steve and Eddie

And literally anyone else you want to ship I'm a big elmax or elumax supporter and Dustin being steddie's kid basically

Also why the fuck is nobody talking about the sass potential with Dustin and Erica friendship?? They're like copy paste stobyn but with a different font that makes them roast everyone else instead of each other

Anyway don't take any of this too seriously it only took like 30 minutes (that's a lot fo time holy shit 💀😭😭 I'm a slow writer) and no brain power because, again, I just woke up with a coughing fit that probably made me lose a lung. I should probably check on that.

Anyway, BYEEEEE

[coraniaid]

Not a surprise to anyone who's ever read anything I've written, I suspect, but there's something so fascinating to me about the character of Faith's first Watcher.

Well, I mean, 'character' is already putting it a bit strongly. We don't know practically anything about her, other than the fact she was killed in front of Faith. Faith never (explicitly) brings her up again after her first appearance (although she has to be implicitly referencing her, and perhaps her mother as well, when she tells Gwendolyn Post in Revelations that she has "this problem with authority figures: they end up kind of dead", and we can assume she's also thinking of her when she confronts Buffy in Enemies: "you get the Watcher, you get the mom [...] what do I get?")

There are some things we can infer about her. She was presumably in better standing with the Council than Giles (although Faith was lying about her being away at the Watcher's retreat in England, she must have been invited and told Faith about it or else why would Faith know that was happening and assume Giles would be there?). She was, perhaps, older than Giles (Faith's flirting with Giles on first meeting him is just a warped self-defence mechanism on her part so we can't take it too seriously, but she does profess to be surprised by how young he is). And, of course, from the way Faith reacts to Mrs Post and the Mayor, we can assume Faith bonded to her pretty strongly (no doubt making her failure to save her from Kakistos all the more painful).

But ... that's it. We don't even have a canonical name. Even Kendra's Watcher managed that much, and Kendra was only (barely) in three episodes. Some people -- including me -- sometimes use the name 'Diana Dormer', but that's from the tie-in novel Go Ask Malice which isn't even considered canon by those people who consider some of the tie-in books to be canon.

And yet, as I've said, she kind of fascinates me. What was she like? How long did Faith know her? What was her relationship with Faith like: was it something close to what Buffy and Giles had, or more like Buffy and her first Watcher (also not named canonically, unless you count the film)? Would she have left Faith alone in a motel room all year? Was she anything like the Watcher Gwendolyn Post pretended to be? Did Faith ever complain about her "taking the fun out of [Slaying]", the way Faith later complains about Wesley? Was Faith thinking of her when she went to visit Buffy and her mom for Christmas? Was she the last adult Faith had ever brought a "crappy" present for when visiting her home?

Why are there so few named adult women characters on this supposedly feminist show?