#oh no she's being sentimental on main again

[ourladyofmaplemurder]

A dear friend sent this to me this morning.

I laughed. I'm already a little teary.

Today I'm watching the season premiere and finale of each season to prepare for tonight.

I got up early for this. I took two days off work.

I can't believe Riverdale is ending, though I know my journey with this show is far from over. I'll still be writing fics and posts. I've got a lot of essays to finish and record. There's still so much to say and learn from this show.

I've already learned so much. Grown so much. The gift of this show has already been immense. I could ask for no more.

Art is really powerful. I'll leave it at that for now.

No matter what happens tonight, I love you all, everything.

I'll see you on the other side.

[scatter-snz]

Best Laid Plans - Part 3

Details: 11k, M sneezes, no pairing (for this part)

Summary: A secret agent is going undercover for a few days, and his target has a sneeze fetish. When preparing his next move, he finds even the best laid plans go awry.

PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

EVERYONE 🥹💖 Thank you so, so much for your continued support and kindness!!!! 😭 I’m just over the moon that folks are enjoying this and I’ve deeply appreciated all the likes, comments, reblogs, and asks!! I feel like I’ll never be able to say thank you enough times to everyone 😂💕 Please know that I’ve read each and every wonderful word you all have said and those sentiments have given me soul power!!! 💫

This is a fluffy interlude, but it will spice up again in Part 4! 😏 These are original characters, all in their mid twenties to early thirties. Please mind the warnings if anything here might be uncomfy for you.

(Warnings: Unrealistic science, Mess Lite™, getting sneezed on [accidentally, not in detail], questionable coworker dynamics [discussing sexual pleasure in a professional way], humiliation themes [main character gets embarrassed from sexual discussion], micro/macro [it’s a dream], masturbation, being induced by another person [not on purpose], feeling pleasure from sneezing).

THIS STORY IS NSFW!

-

The Wooden Lantern, tomorrow, 6:30pm. 

Omicron knew the place. He’d studied the resort’s directory extensively before they arrived. It was a high class, low-light, white table cloth and well-dressed waiter kind of restaurant. Either Josaline and her husband booked a reservation far in advance or they had the clout to demand one. The backdrop set the tone — extravagant, intimate, an evening of whispered banter. They better not expect me to pay, he thought, weaving around a housekeeper with a cart of towels and sheets. Head office probably won’t foot the bill.

It took longer than planned to pry himself away from Josaline. She was content to lounge for as long as he’d let her, asking him idle questions and tracing shapes on his chest with the tips of her fingers. All the while, she watched his nose. To Omicron it seemed like she was reluctant to miss even a second of his nasal misery, and she was treated to a fair amount of sniffling, sneezing, and nose blowing while they talked. When he finally managed to extricate himself, he surmised his nose was as red as the sunset. The light painted brilliant streaks over the coastline and reduced distant seagulls to silhouettes as they flew over sparkling water. 

And somehow, looking too long at the birds flapping their wings meant he had to sneeze. Bitterly, Omicron tucked a finger beneath his nostrils. They began to flare, anxious as the tickle took flight somewhere in his sinuses. Indulging this in his hotel room was better than the hallway, so Omicron picked up his pace. He could feel the sensation worsen, his nerves trembling, and soon a whole flock of frantic tickles startled into motion.

“-hhHH-” He flipped his hand up over his nose and increased his power walk to a near sprint.

“-gUH!hhh..HHH-” He skidded to his room door and through tears he scanned the keycard, shoved himself inside-

“HHEH’DZZssch!”

“Oh, here he is. He just got back.”

Omicron eased his eyes open long enough to see Agent Delta with his phone to his ear, frowning at him.

“Bless-”

“-IHCHZSSH’oo!” He flattened a hand to his chest, feeling himself breathe and breathe and- “..hah!-CHIZSSH’uh!.. ngghh..”

Omicron groaned and belatedly nosed into his shirt, at this point a decimated, jumbo-sized rag hanging limply from his hand.

“Bless you.” Delta delivered it firmly, and asked in the same tone, “How are you feeling?”

“Whad?” he asked, muffled at first before he lowered the shirt. “I’b fine.”

The senior agent gave him a doubtful once-over, then spoke to whomever was on the phone. “He says he’s fine.”

Muzzily, Omicron looked down at himself. Then sidelong to the closet door mirror. He stood only in his swim trunks, bare from his hips up with hair made wild by hungry hands and a smattering of burgundy lipstick across his throat. Worst was his nose, just as raw and sore looking as it felt. It twitched as he watched, his nostrils slowly stretching wide. His expression collapsed by degrees, jaw slacking, eyelids fluttering, chin tilting, chest lifting in one long breath.

“hhhhhHHH’ADZSSHiew!!” he sneezed, and threw himself a step forward.

Delta sighed. “Bless you.”

Once again Omicron lifted his shirt late and huffed a frustrated sigh of his own. When the tickle came over him, he couldn’t do more than simply sneeze. His days of diligent etiquette were long behind him now. There was a tap on his shoulder and when he looked up, Delta was standing in front of him with a fresh box of unscented, lotion-infused tissues. Omicron could have cried.

“Thag’k you-” he choked, snatching a handful just before he “-hd’ZZSSCH!-guh..”

He transitioned his groan into a strengthless blow of his nose. Even for how little effort he used, the action was productive — more audibly than he would have preferred. At least the tissues didn’t chafe. It took several rounds, Delta patiently holding the box for him, until Omicron’s sniffling was stuffy but dry. The tickle relaxed as much as it ever did, tracing shapes against his membranes. It reminded him of Josaline. By the time he was finished, Delta had traded the box for the room’s little trash bin. 

“Yes, just a moment..” he said into the phone, then tipped the bin expectantly at Omicron. Meekly, he dropped in all his tissues (as well as his shirt, it was a lost cause) as Delta continued. “Let me speak with him first.”

Omicron tried to cobble together some semblance of professionalism. He straightened his spine and folded his hands into a parade rest to deliver his report. “Sir, there is a new development-”

“Apologies, Omicron, that will have to wait,” Delta bulldozed over him. “Something’s come up.”

A prickle of anxiety raised the hairs at the back of his neck. “… Sir?”

“It concerns your condition,” Delta replied, and his faltering loss of eye contact didn’t reassure Omicron in the slightest. “It’s a.. delicate subject, so I’ll leave this to Dr. Voster.”

Omicron closed his eyes in exasperation. He’d forgotten about her. Shit. Delta passed him the phone, and then very conspicuously occupied himself across the room.

Bracing himself, Omicron lifted the phone to his ear. “Yes?”

“Hi, Agent Omicron,” said Dr. Voster in a tinny voice from the receiver. “You’re a hard man to get a hold of lately.”

“Well, I’ve been a bit busy,” he said, then lifted a fist to his nose. Idle as the tickle was, the incessant, gossamer sensation of it was beginning to bother him. “Forgive me if I don’t have time to shoot the breeze.”

“You think I’d come to you for small talk? I’d have better luck with a brick wall.”

“Noted,” he replied as he glanced around for the tissue box. He found it sitting on his bed. “Are you calling to berate me or is there something you want?”

“If you remember from yesterday,” she insisted with unnecessary attitude, “I’m calling to talk about your nose.”

The tickle twinged, perking up like a dog to a whistling call. The rims of his eyes grew wet. His breath hiccuped. “I’d reahh- hly rather not.”

“Too bad, I’ll cut to the chase: are you getting erections when you sneeze?”

Her words pierced him like arrows, followed by the bleed of heat into his cheeks, ears, and neck. Omicron’s hand froze halfway to his face, tissues hovering. She knows, his mind shrieked. She knows. He whipped his head to Delta, who was faffing pointlessly with his suitcase while pretending to ignore the conversation unfolding across the room. And so does he.

“Your silence is telling,” said Anita.

“No.” His mind was static and his mouth was dry. Words wouldn’t flow. “I’m not.. No.”

The lie was so poorly delivered that it wouldn’t have fooled anyone. Sweat slinked down his nape. Dr. Voster blew a breath over the line, sharp and rueful. “Welp. That one’s on me.”

He darted another glance to Delta and caught the man staring just before they simultaneously turned away. Meanwhile, the tickle followed the path of a twitching nerve with a light, curious touch. Hunching his shoulders and scrunching his face, Omicron mumbled into the receiver. 

“What’s that supposed tuhh.. to mean?”

“Your reaction at the lab was extreme, in relation to the vigor of your sneezing as well as the presence of physiological responses indicating arousal,” she explained, her tone appreciably analytic despite the awkward topic. “Dilated pupils, shortness of breath, difficulty concentrating..”

She suspected it from the beginning? Omicron reeled. It made sense; she was impressively educated and one of the most respected techs at the agency. Her knowledge ranged from biology, physiology, immunology, and beyond. In retrospect, he’d been a fool to think he could ever hide something like this from her. 

“Even so, I couldn’t be sure. It warranted further research and I found something unexpected.”

Omicron pushed a hand through his hair, pressing his thumb into the soft indent of his temple. He’d walked in here with a headache and he could tell this conversation would only make it worse. “Oh?”

“It’s a little known fact that parts of the nose contain the same type of erectile tissue as the genitals, and both are linked to the body’s autonomic nervous system.” 

As she spoke, the tickle feathered a persistent, teasing swirl around a sensitive spot. His inflamed membranes pulsed insistently, as did his chapped nostrils. He tried his damned best to ignore it. “... Pardon?”

“I believe because I gave you a higher dose of viral particles than you needed, the overstimulation of your nasal nerves is causing an echoing effect to the erectile tissue in your penis.”

A dangerous emotion lurched up from Omicron’s stomach and got caught behind his teeth: anger. It warred, then mixed, with his humiliation. Exhaustion eroded his willingness to swallow it back down. 

“This is actually not unheard of. Kinks aside, some people experience this during intercourse, or even from simply thinking about sex, though usually the arousal causes sneezing rather than the other way around..”

Anita blathered on about speculative science, and the bubbling pot of annoyance he’d nursed since the start of this assignment at last began to boil over. Frustration erupted into rage.

“..Still, it’s a variable I completely overlooked. I’m sorry, Omicron.”

“Sorry?” he barked, raising his volume to a throat-scratching degree. “You’re sorry? Are you serious?”

There was a pause over the line. “.. Yes?”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it.” The ardor in his voice vibrated in his sinuses, heightening the caressing sensations of the tickle, which only angered him more. “Yhh-You told me I wouldn’t b-be comprhhuh-.. hhmised by your stupid experiment!”

“That was before I saw its effects in action. I advised you not to go forward with the mission, remember? I only agreed in front of Delta because you looked so sad. It was foolish on my part. I should’ve grounded you.”

“So that I could suffer for your mbistake??” he demanded. His nostrils shivered and he shoved them with the heel of his palm. Congestion clogged his words. “I’ve waited so long for this mbission, Anita, you kdnow I have!”

“It wasn’t my intention to compromise you, Omicron,” and while she said it with contrition, there was also resignation. “I can’t predict every outcome. It’s just one of those things.”

The pragmatism in her voice only fueled his fire, but before he could assemble his response, the tickle struck. Even in the throes of wrath it wouldn’t leave him be. Its touch seeped through his nose like a spill. His lungs jumped with a single breath, and then Omicron’s head snapped down. 

“DDJZSSsh’oo!”

The sneeze staggered him two steps back and another was fast on the rise. It held him hostage in its grip, but Anita’s curt “bless you” in his ear waylaid the urge. He fulcrumed a finger beneath his nose to buy time. Emotion roared up from his chest and broke out of him in a rambling crash. 

“I get one chandce! One. To prove mbyself and if I fail they’re gonna relegate mbe to archives and filing duties for the rest of mby career!!”

He was peripherally aware of Delta, who’d at some point moved to stand in front of him. There was something in his hand, a gadget Omicron recognized but couldn’t think to name. His vision tunneled, dark at the edges. His heart pounded in his ears. His nose twitched ominously, not to be delayed much longer. 

“I c-.. hhhan’dt lose this case,” he was babbling, quicker and quicker when his nostrils began to flare. The burgeoning sneeze tugged his eyelids shut and stole his breath away. “It’ll- it.. iyeehh…h-HH!hck’KZSShiu!”

Dr. Voster took the opportunity to cut in; she sounded deliberately calm as he sniffled fitfully through a recovery. “Omicron, listen to me, you’re catastrophizing. Slow down for a second and breathe.”

“Ndo, you listen!” His voice cracked and an ugly desperation made itself known. “They’ll really do it, if I’b ndot perfect they’ll write mbe off a’d I’ll end up a cautionary tale, they’ll laugh mbe out of the agency, everythi’g I’ve worked for will be for dnothi’g, I-”

Glowing numbers flashed in front of his eyes. Omicron startled, teetering unevenly on his feet. At first he had no idea what it was, but as his vision steadied the image formed. Delta stood before him, grim, offering the readout screen of an infrared thermometer.

The numbers read 102.4°F / 39.1°C . Omicron squinted at them, uncomprehending.

“... what’s thad?” he rasped.

Delta’s reply was immediate and immutable. “Your fever.”

Omicron blinked. Squinted harder. Read the numbers again even as they started to blur. I have a fever? he asked himself. As his fury ebbed, new sensations emerged: the painful heat radiating from his head, a pervasive chill seeping from his core, the weakness in his knees and the cotton in his ears. He began listing to the side. The phone slipped from his hand.

Oh, he realized. I have a fever.

“Oop!” Delta dashed and caught him before he could swoon to the floor. Together they sank in a controlled descent as the senior agent muttered, “Easy now, easy..” under his breath. Once they were down, Omicron tucked his head into his knees and tried to fend off the headrush.

Indistinct voices floated around him. He could only catch snippets of conversation — “high grade temperature,” and “want you here by morning” — and he gave up on the rest. Instead, he concentrated on the bracing passes of Delta’s broad hand across the span of his sweaty shoulders. It took longer than he liked, but eventually Omicron raised his head with minimal dizziness. He stared into the weave of the carpet.

“Did she hang up?”

“Yes,” Delta said beside him. “She gave me a list of questions to ask you when you’re feeling a bit better.”

Omicron dropped his head back to his knees. “... is she upset?”

“At your outburst?” Delta asked, and his subordinate cringed. “She’s more worried about you than upset, but you wouldn’t be remiss to apologize when she arrives.”

In the aftermath of his tantrum, clarity pricked him like a thorn. This was as much his fault as it was Anita’s. It was true her virus yielded unexpected results, but by concealing them from her, he’d failed in his responsibility as a teammate. She put her trust in him, and he let her down. There were few things more painful for him than owning his mistakes.

Stewing in his shame, he sniffled and said the only thing he could say. “I’b sorry, sir.”

Delta’s smile grew warm at the edges. “I’m not the one you shouted at, but I’ll accept your apology since you lied to me too.”

God, he wished the ground would just swallow him whole. Omicron folded into an even smaller ball, arms tightening around his shins. The position made his nose run, which required frequent snuffling for maintenance, but he’d rather do that than look Delta in the eye.

“I expect honesty from you, agent. Full stop. Not a single lie moving forward, either directly or by omission. Am I understood?”

Omicron could barely force himself above a whisper. “Yes, sir.”

“Not just about the virus,” his superior continued, “but also your wellbeing. You’ve put so much pressure on yourself, Omicron. I had no idea you were under the impression that this assignment would be your only chance to succeed.”

Without anger as a shield, he’d lost his last defense. Delta’s sympathy felt like a punch in the gut. Even worse, his near constant sniffles were going to make him sneeze. He keenly felt each bead of moisture drip down his stressed passages, then skate back up with every subsequent snatch of air. It was unabating, alluring, and it coaxed little sighs from his lip when he exhaled. He didn’t have to wait long.

“..hh’MMPHssh!!Huh..” Omicron muffled it into his knees, his entire body trembling. Then he hurried to respond before he could be blessed. “-but it’s true, righd?”

“Come again?” Delta asked, and when Omicron spoke it again with more volume, he could hear Delta’s brow furrow just from the way he replied, “No, it’s not true at all. Did someone tell you differently?”

With reluctance, Omicron lifted his head and confirmed with a stuffy mumble. “.. Agent Rho did.”

“Rho!” Delta scoffed, as if he could scold the agent from here. His voice lowered to a grumble, and that told Omicron exactly how Delta felt about Rho. “Don’t listen to them. They enjoy scaring less experienced agents.”

(Here Omicron swore a silent, seething vow that he would exact calculated revenge upon Agent Rho for their transgressions against him. Delta continued, oblivious.)

“A reprehensible practice, but between you and I, head office rarely entertains my complaints on the matter.”

Head office… Fuzzy worries came into focus as Omicron muddled through another lazy, slow-to-arrive sneeze. The fog of it clouded his expression as he tried in vain to soldier on.

“Are you goi’g t-.. hih’KIZSsh!” he bobbed his head, then slitted his eyes open only for them to flutter closed again. “..ehKZSSh’uh!... mmbgh..” 

“Bless you,” said Delta, watching Omicron cup a hand over his nose. “Here, use these.”

Delta held out the tissue box, still half-full with soft paper, and Omicron plucked out several. His breath hitched high, voice heady, as he attempted to relay gratitude. 

“Th-hhah.. ah’NKZSSS’hoo!” He crushed it into the tissues, and then flushed with a fresh layer of chagrin when Delta chuckled.

“Bless you, Omicron, you’re welcome.” He waited for the nose blowing to stop before he continued. “You were saying?... ‘Am I going to’ what?”

Oh, right, his question.. With fever, congestion, and the pledge of sneezes crowding his head, holding onto a thought longer than a few seconds felt next to impossible. “Are you going to ground me?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Delta replied. “Considering your condition, I should say yes, but I’d like Dr. Voster’s opinion first. You’re making progress on this case and I’d hate to halt your momentum prematurely.”

That was fair. Uncontrollable boners and a fever on active duty would probably dissuade any overseeing officer from adapting a ‘push through’ mentality. Especially Delta, since the man had the most heavily bleeding heart Omicron had ever known. It would be up to Anita, then; he couldn’t muster the energy to fret about it right now. They sat together while Omicron tended to his fidgety nose, still side by side on the floor, until Delta made a sound of recollection.

“Speaking of the case, didn’t you mention a development? I interrupted you earlier. What was it you wanted to tell me?”

Ahhhh, dammit, Omicron lamented. I forgot about that too.

Even before Anita threw her wrench, he hadn’t been sure how his date tomorrow would go over with Delta. He’d had plans of carefully breaking the news, laying out the variables and working gradually to the big reveal. But now he could barely remember the basic idea, let alone complex and eloquent details. Wracking his boiling brain did nothing but cost him his opportunity; the meandering tickle of his cold stumbled yet again on sensitive territory.

“-Hah…” It lured a dreading sound from his lips as the urge niggled him. Hadn’t he sneezed enough? His count had to be over a hundred by now, and yet his nose wasn’t satisfied. Overworked as they were, his nasal nerves were as ceaseless in their goals as the virus was. “..hiH-.. ngh..”

Omicron cut his losses. Either he ripped the bandaid off or wasted another ten minutes sneezing while his cold tickled him senseless. He took a moment to steady his breathing before saying, “...She has a hus’BEHSsh’oo!”

It startled them both, barreling out of him freely and with an unfortunate lack of cover. Delta flinched away, visibly caught in the crossfire, and Omicron panicked. Both hands jerked up to cover his nose as a whiplash of shame froze him to the bone. 

“Fuck, I’b so siihH-” Oh god, again? His breath wavered at the top of his throat, almost a whimper, and he was so discombobulated from the first one that he couldn’t prepare for the second. “-ih’GXCHHT!”

It ran roughshod, mostly through his nose, and it scraped his sinuses on the way out. Very unpleasant, but fortunately the tickle had to play second fiddle to the stinging aftermath. Omicron hitched down from the high, hands still cemented to his face for modesty and eyelashes sticking with tears as he threw a glance to his superior.

“b’sorry!” he eked out, and he must have looked truly miserable because Delta’s eyes widened.

“It’s alright, it’s alright!” he said earnestly, with a shake of his head and a consoling pat to Omicron’s back. “I’m not upset, I know that was an accident. Don’t worry about it, hm? Here..”

He fished up the tissue box in offering before politely turning away as Omicron cleaned himself up. The mortification nearly crushed him, but still the junior agent reeled with relief. He could trust his superior at his word that he wasn’t upset; it just wasn’t in Delta’s nature to lie, unless it was for his cover. It took nearly the rest of the box before Omicron deemed himself decent, and even then he pinned a preemptive bushel of tissues around his nose in case another sneeze got away from him. Delta was looking at him with such effusive compassion that Omicron delivered his news without preamble, desperate to change the subject.

“I got invited to a threesome with Josaline and her secret husband,” he said from behind his hands.

Agent Delta was gobsmacked. “Wh- Josaline Jewel has a husband?”

Omicron nodded.

“We have no intel to suggest that at all. Are you sure?”

Omicron nodded again.

There was a bewildered pause, then an even more disbelieving, “And you’ve scheduled a threesome with them?”

For a third time Omicron nodded, bleary-eyed over the edge of his tissues. Beneath his hands, his nostrils spasmed around the shape of a sluggish itch. It stalled out somewhere in his sinuses, too present to dismiss but not yet committed to climax. Don’t tease me, he begged with a slow blink. Either hurry up or go away.

“Omicron,” Delta said, a note of wonder in his voice. “I knew you were talented, but this exceeds expectations. Particularly with the knowledge that you did this while contending with unforeseen complications. Well done.”

His heart fluttered weakly at the praise and Omicron squashed any pleased feelings that arose from it. There would be nothing to celebrate if he couldn’t finish the job.

“Th.. hhagk you, sir.”

“When are you meeting them?”

“T-.. Tihh-..” As he spoke the tickle squiggled like a banner caught in a breeze. He rushed the rest on an exhale — “..t-t’mborrow nhhigh..” — heaved in a huge breath, and then- “IDTZSSH’hoo!!”

“Bless, tomorrow night, hm..” Delta rushed the blessing as well, rubbing his chin with a long sigh. “This does complicate things. I doubt we’ll get a chance like this again, but I’m not granting clearance until Dr. Voster takes a look at you-”

“ht-.. HD’JZSS!uuh..”

“-bless you, because that fever of yours concerns me. That side effect wasn’t listed in the literature and it surprised her to hear that you’ve developed one-”

“.. eh-.. eH’TSCHHOO!”

“-bless you. So better safe than sorry. Your health and safety takes priority over any assignment, Omicron, do try and remember tha-.. oh, bless…?”

“.. h-HDT-!”

Omicron waiting on the cusp of another, eyes rolled skyward and lips parted in desire, still cloaked behind his curtain of tissues. He could feel he had Delta’s undivided attention, which made the tickle shy. It shivered inside him, sending his nostrils into a fit of flaring. Stuttered breaths filled his lungs in tiny bursts, emptying again on uneasy sighs, and he-.. he-!..

.. relaxed, defeated, with a groan. 

“Lost it?” Delta asked, then quirked a smile at Omicron’s moody nose-blow. “I’m sure it’s very disappointing. My condolences.”

Because Delta was being very gracious about all this — Omicron’s dishonesty and careless sneezing — he couldn’t summon up any feelings of exasperation. It helped that he was running on empty, too enervated by his fever to do much more than slump with a nod that made his head gently spin. He waited it out and only when he startled to awareness at a gentle touch on his arm did he realize he’d been falling asleep where he sat. He squinted up at Delta who was now standing, smiling down at him.

“Dr. Voster asked me to collect more data on your condition, but that can wait,” he said, and hauled Omicron to his feet. He guided the smaller man toward the bright fluorescence of their hotel bathroom. “Why don’t you wash up? It might help.”

Too dazed to protest, Omicron stood shivering barefoot on the cold tile in his swim trunks while Delta babbled about this and that. A couple blinks later he was holding a set of sweats from his suitcase, his toiletry bag, and a clean pair of fuzzy socks that wasn’t his. Probably Delta’s. He’d seen the man wear a different pair around the room just last night. Juggling the items and mumbling thank-yous, he nudged the door shut with his foot as Delta stated he’d be going out to grab dinner.

And thus commenced his character assassination. 

Omicron laid to rest and mourned what remained of his dignity. He was, in essence, sick on the job with an unseemly cold and his boss was playing nurse. In other words, a nightmare. Never had any of his coworkers seen him T less than peak health, and he hadn’t bargained on Anita’s monster virus turning him into… this. As he shambled through a shower, pajamas, and then curled up into bed, he hoped in vain that his fever would be bad enough to knock him out before Delta got back. No such luck.

Omicron knew how he could look, especially with fresh, fluffy bedhead and sleeves that drooped over his hands. He could only assume this aesthetic was exacerbated by his glowing red nose and glassy eyes. ‘Cute’ was a moniker he’d take to his grave unfortunately, much as it haunted him. He’d never managed to escape it in any disguise, not for all the leather, fake piercings, or platform boots in the world. 

So when Agent Delta turned around and caught sight of him, snuggled in a poofy duvet clutching the tissue box with a little twitch troubling his nose, Omicron beat him to the punch. “Please don’t patronize me, sir.”

Delta’s smile threatened laughter, but he reigned it in with a polite cough and clear of his throat. “I wasn’t going to, agent. I’m just glad to see you’re more comfortable.”

‘Comfortable’ was a generous word that only got further from the truth as the night wore on. Omicron was treated to dinner in bed, complete with a serving tray borrowed from the staff, and the gesture was enough to obliterate any shred of appetite he had for the hot and sour soup Delta brought him. He just wanted to dissolve into the atmosphere and disappear. What he did manage to eat sprung tears in his eyes and a menacing prickle in his clogged sinuses. He spent most of the meal with a tissue held to flexing, leaky nostrils.

The conversation after dinner was yet another exercise in torture. Omicron would have tried choking down more soup if he’d remembered Delta had orders from Anita to question him about his ‘condition.’

Rationally, Omicron knew he shouldn’t be embarrassed. He had sex on the job now and then, and those wild whims he pursued on his personal time were a cure for boredom more than anything. There was something different about this though, the pleasure he felt from sneezing. It felt intimate, self-generated, and to some extent outside of his control. That he might accidentally get aroused without a purpose, beyond that it simply just felt good, was a thought he couldn’t bare to share with anyone. 

“I find it endearing that you are so bashful about this, considering your line of work,” Delta said, understanding yet undeterred, “but as this pertains directly to your ability to perform on the job, I’m afraid Voster and I are on a need to know basis. I promise it will be quick and painless.”

The unyielding furrow in Delta’s brow told Omicron he wouldn’t escape this discussion, no matter how badly he wanted to avoid it. Maybe by some miracle he’d black out and not remember it after.

Once they got started, the questions were mercifully clinical: How often are you experiencing unexpected symptoms? Under what circumstances do they arise? Are you experiencing any unexpected symptoms beyond those already identified? And so on. All the while, Omicron dissuaded sneezes with nose rubs, nose blows, and general nose abuse of that nature. Each ticklish surge that scrambled for a foothold he countered with equal obstinacy. Nothing he did would rid him of the itch, so there was no reason to indulge it.

Yes there is, said the steady drip of tension into his abdomen. Feel that? It was a formless need, faint enough to ignore. For now. Given time the drip would form a puddle, then a pond, and eventually an ocean of want churning in the core of him. And it will feel so good to let go. 

Omicron resolutely ignored that feeling. 

When they finished with the questions, he didn’t even realize it was over; he dozed off while Delta prattled on too long about meaningless things, his voice soothing in its familiarity, and awoke with a start minutes or hours later from a soft touch on his elbow. Just Delta, whispering something about acetaminophen, offering pills and a glass of water which Omicron tossed back wordlessly before hurtling headfirst back into sleep.

He surfaced in and out of consciousness throughout the night, plagued by chills, sweats, and the strange dreams only a fever can cook up. Vivid, nonsensical adventures that ranged from confusing to harrowing, until Omicron eventually found himself spelunking. How he ended up in this damp, drippy cavern eluded him, but he remained committed to his single directive: explore. 

It was an odd place, even in a dream. Rather than rough-hewn stone, Omicron walked barefoot on a soft, plush surface that spanned the walls and even the ceiling. Caves were usually quite chilly, but this one was comfortably warm. Steady breezes cut through the humidity, first blowing one way and then the other, ruffling Omicron’s hair at each pass. He staggered when a particularly strong gust dragged him like an undertow and leaned against the wall to keep his balance. This immediately backfired because the wall was unexpectedly slick. With a frictionless glide, he tumbled to the ground.

“Sheesh,” he muttered, planting his palms to push himself up. When he did so, there was a near imperceptible shudder through the cavern. The rhythmic wind stuttered, stopped, then continued with an unsteady edge. He raised arm against a blast of air. “What-..?”

A light caught his eye, and Omicron glanced down to find a nexus of thrumming veins spidering out from his epicenter. They pulsed with a beautiful glow, casting a red hue across his face and illuminating the cave floor with a pink, stained glass iridescence. Curious, he trailed his fingers along the branching paths and watched the veins spread further. Again the cave floor lurched, stronger this time, and the wind around him escalated into trembling, intermittent squalls. For some reason he didn’t feel afraid, only determined.

Omicron clamored to his feet. He approached the wall where the veins began to climb. They pulsed weakly, wanting, and he felt that he needed to help them. Feeling around on his person, he unearthed something from his back pocket: a feather duster. The feathers waved in the strong breeze, plentiful and downy. How he’d managed to fit this in his pocket was dream logic he didn’t question. 

“Let’s see,” he mumbled, and crouched to sweep the instrument along the wall. It seemed to cringe from the sensation, twitching madly as the veins hungrily advanced. 

Omicron kept it up, dusting as much as he could reach even as the cavern began to shiver in earnest and the wind whipped his hair like a storm. But he couldn’t stop. He just had this feeling that if he lit the cavern completely, it would be a magnificent sight. As the paths flourished, they brought with them a gorgeous backlight to the tender, rose-petal surfaces of the cave. Funny, they looked almost inflamed. Irritated by his influence, intolerant of his presence here. The thoughts didn’t deter him. Omicron raised up on his tiptoes to take a swipe at the ceiling and had his feet knocked out from under him when the world tremored in response. The gale sucked inward with authority, and the feather duster was ripped from his hands.

Something was happening. Around him, the veins fanned out on their own and he’d been right: the radiance of the cavern was incredible with it all lit up at once. Beneath him the ground throbbed contentiously, convulsing, hot to the touch, and for the first time, Omicron wondered if he might have done something he shouldn’t have. No longer distracted by his goal, he became aware of a weird sound. Something deep, rumbling beneath him, the desirous moans of uhh.. uHhh.. uHHh-!... growing in volume, pitch, and power. 

And suddenly, he felt the echo of this urge manifest in his nose. Its vigor sprung tears to his eyes and his jaw dropped open, helpless as it consumed him. His gasps and groans synced up to the wild chaos around him, and he could feel the very nerves he squirmed against crying out for mercy. It tickled insufferably, teased to heights he couldn’t believe — and there was only one way down.

I’m inside my own nose? was his first bizarre realization. The second was, I’m going to sneeze.

Omicron opened his eyes, only to snap them closed again. “-HP’BBSZZCHHHOOO!!!-”

He groaned, arching against the mattress, as the sneeze went straight to his dick. Bleary, barely awake, all he could do was coast through a yearning gasp and “HEEHDZJJSSSZH!Nnngghh-!”

Raw relief tingled through him, shimmering through his nose and groin, and autopilot took over. Omicron plunged a hand down his pants and gripped his morning wood, firm and ready to burst. There was enough precum trickling from his slit and staining his boxers that he could smooth his thumb over the head and ignore the slight burn from dry skin friction.

His nostrils flittered in anguish, and his sinuses drummed with an insatiable itch. Please, they implored him. This tickle tortured us all night long. Do something. And Omicron was happy to serve. 

A monumental gasp - “hHHHHIIH!” - heralded an comparatively monstrous sneeze - “EEHDDZZZCHHH’Uh!!-hoohhh..”

This was so much better in bed. A tidal wave of pleasure rushed through him, from his nose to his toes, and he couldn’t catch his breath. He gritted his teeth, bowing his back as he thrust into the grip of his hand. It was just on the edge of too much; Omicron wasn’t normally so sensitive, but he’d woken with every inch of his skin tingling and thought it had to be the fever. 

The tickle flexed deep inside, and Omicron recalled the striking visuals of his dream. Wet, pink walls. Encroaching red veins. Sensitive nerves, shuddery membranes, the way he’d ignorantly worked himself up to this very fit with a bundle of soft, stroking feathers. He could imagine himself doing it again, deliberately this time, sweeping the inside of his nose deftly and thoroughly, tickling and tickling and fighting to keep his eyes open even as the sensation forced them tightly closed. Coaxing a hitching breath. Making him sn-..

“-hoh fuhhck-.. hh!HUH!. UHHZZSSSHH’iu!-ooh!” His heels slipped on the sheets, straining for purchase, as he panted his way up to another. “-igih.. iH’GISSCCHOOO!-hah!!”

Each one got him an inch closer to orgasm. He bobbed over every wave with surety the next one would break over his head and drown him. Omicron snuffled unsteadily, aware his nose was running without the care to wipe it, and began twisting his wrist when he felt his nostrils blow wide in preparation. 

Yes yes yes, he cheered. Let this be the one.

He hitched through a dazed smile, a deceptively dainty hh-hht-htt! that then curled him up with a bed-shaking, “HAH’TSSDCH’UE!..hh’mmngg-!..” 

Omicron’s whole body clenched, tense with the impending release, but before it could come he was hitching again. His dream self dusted away, dauntless with a single-mindedness to make him sneeze. And he’d assuredly succeed, as his real self shuddered through a fit-and-start buildup.

“-hihg..ihh!hhoh.. HHT-!chhhoo..” 

It wouldn’t come, hovering so close to the brink that whenever he breathed into the tickle he sighed out the approximation of its finale. His hand never stopped, the steady pumps easier now that he was wet enough. Through the haze of fever, grogginess, and arousal, Omicron imagined the dutiful brush of that duster against his quivering membranes. He was a thorough man, never one to leave a job half-finished, and he visualized himself venturing deeper, farther, to a cowering patch of nerves hoping to escape torment. The feathers caressed them, velutinous and inviting.

“.. iih!HHhhh..”

Deeper, to the responsive edge of his sinuses, where he trailed the duster along the border with deliberate care. The tickle’s magnitude tripled, aching in its eagerness. His dick pulsed in reply, hot and heavy in his frantic hand. 

“-HIH!..hh..hgIHH-”

Deeper still, to the end of the line, so far inside his nose he’d never hope to get it out. The feathers touched quivering flesh. With a smirk, his dream self stroked so gently, agonizingly slow, barely a tease and yet it tickled him to an unbearable degree. He could feel every fiber of the agitating feathers, the promise they whispered. 

Come on, he said to himself. You know you want to.

Omicron’s gasp cut the air like a knife, inflating his lungs to capacity, before he roared violently into his blankets. “-iihHHHHH-?!..WRRIZZSSSCHH’IIUHHH!!-mmbb!!”

He turned his head into his pillow to moan through his orgasm, stroking through it as a euphoric, tingling balm spread through his sinuses. It lasted longer than he anticipated, a continuous ripple of ecstasy that had him whimpering, panting, trembling. All his muscles relaxed, every part of him sated, and when the aftershocks ebbed Omicron sunk into the sheets, hand still in his pants, to let sleep call him back into its arms. It’s not like he had somewhere to be. What did he have to do this morning..? Vacuum the apartment..? Get groceries..? Cuddle with his cats?.............wait-

OH NO.

Omicron jackknifed into a sitting position, then immediately regretted it when his head spun. He drooped onto an elbow, coughing, heart hammering, and in a panic he scanned the room. Nobody here. No sounds from the bathroom either. The relief was so intense it sent him into another sickening dose of dizziness. He flopped flat to the mattress and tried to steady his breathing.

I didn’t just jack off in front of my superior officer, he assured himself. Everything is fine. He finally slipped his hand out of his pants and wrinkled his sore nose at the stickiness of his skin and underwear. But I have to clean up.

It took a pitifully long time to do so. Shivers wracked him the moment he crawled out of bed, and every step was a wobbly gamble. He forgot spare clothes and had to backtrack, then couldn’t figure out how to clean up without taking a shower he didn’t have the energy for. All the while his head pounded, his throat stung, and eventually the whims of the virus brought him to the brink of feeble, fallout sneezes.

Finally, with his dirty clothes stuffed into the bottom of his suitcase and most of the sweat wiped off his skin, Omicron zombied his way back to the bed and collapsed face down. Some flailing got him purchase on the sheets, mercifully spared from most of his fluids, and at last he was horizontal. Of course the position dutched the congestion to a new angle. It tickled him.

Omicron huffed weakly, wearily, and  ducked under the cover of his blankets. “-iih’KIZSSH!’iuh…” Only the one. He sighed, rubbing the edge of his sheet beneath his fussy nose. Now, maybe he could just….

From the door there was the sound of a keycard clattering, then the latch lifting, and a boisterous pair of voices entered the room. “Honey, I’m home!”

Omicron buried his head under the blankets.

“Anita, he may not be awake..” That one was Delta. “Shouldn’t he rest?”

“The sooner I examine him, the better. Where-?.. ah! There you are.”

Omicron tightened his grip on the blankets, and was right to do so because seconds later there was a tug from the outside. It was hot and stuffy under the covers, hard to breathe, but he’d rather suffocate than deal with Anita Voster right now. She tugged again and he didn’t budge.

“Oho?” she tittered. “Trying to avoid treatment, mm? You should know better, Agent O.”

He remained tense, blinking weakly against a flutterish niggle. His nostrils flared, nervous, and he would have soothed them with a touch of his finger if his hands weren’t occupied. He scrunched his nose instead, squirming it side to side when the tickle didn’t abate. Dr. Voster was on the move, he’d lost track of her-...

“Anddd.. voila!”

Cold air and light entered his cocoon. She’d rounded the bed and flipped the covers up from the back side, which was a dirty move. A chill swept up his spine, prompting a shudder that shivered into a sneeze. 

“h-hhi’hHTSSsh!-hh..” He flinched his knees to his chest, tucking an arm around himself as he threw the other behind him for the covers. “Gih-..ig’IIZSSH!”

“Bless bless you,” she cooed in a playful tone that made him bristle. Her hand cupped his shoulder and pulled. “Now, let me see… oh.”

Her smile dropped away as she looked at him, lips parting in genuine surprise, her manicured eyebrows marching up toward her hairline. She was wearing an obnoxious summery ensemble, no doubt excited to exploit the mission for a few days at the beach. When no reply was forthcoming, Omicron glared at her. The ferocity of it was undercut when a twinge in his nose prompted a squeaky sniffle.

“.. Whad?” he croaked.

“You’ve never looked so pathetic before,” she said in wonder. “And I’ve seen you faint after getting a vaccine booster.”

It was an open secret that he hated injections as much as he hated the dentist, but everyone kindly agreed not to acknowledge it after that one time. He growled his words, snatching the blankets back from her. “The ndeedle was really big and you said you’d dnever mbendtion it againd.”

“Voster,” chided Delta, hands on his hips. “Please refrain from teasing him when he’s not feeling well. He’s under enough stress as it is.”

As infantilizing as it was as a grown man to have another grown man scold somebody on his behalf, Omicron shot her a smug look that she met with an arched brow. 

“Fine,” she sighed, and crossed to his side of the bed. “I guess I’ll cut him some slack. Omicron, sit up a little.”

There would be no getting out of this. Delaying the process would probably get him another lecture from Delta, so Omicron reluctantly shimmied to a half-reclining position, arms crossed to ward off chills as she sat gracefully on his bedside. She crossed a leg at the knee, reached for his face, and cool hands cradled his jaw. He let her move him as she wanted, wrinkling and wriggling his nose to keep it appeased. 

The sly bullying he expected didn’t come. Dr. Voster was professional when she asked, “Any fluctuations in symptoms since last night?”

“Umb.. ndot really..” Omicron sniffed sharply and swallowed. He considered leaving it there, but his promise to Delta wouldn’t let him. He mumbled through the rest and could only hope she understood what it meant. “.. there was an.. idncident this mborning. That I resolved.”

“Gotcha,” she said, and didn’t press. Omicron relaxed under her handling. She took his temperature (101.3°F / 38.5°C), tested his glands, pulled down the edges of his eyelids, and then at last took a cursory glance up his nostrils with a wince. “I didn’t think it was possible to see a sneeze but the inside of your nose looks like one.”

Apt, since he could feel it forming between his eyes. He leaned away out of her grip, and without any tissues in reach, Omicron shook his sleeves over his hands and tucked into them. “hh!MMPSSH!..” 

“Bless you,” chorused the other two. 

He surfaced briefly as the tickle toyed with him, playing his nerves like batons on a xylophone. Every note vibrated, compounding in harmony, cacophonous as it crested, “..aak’KZSCHue!.. hh?..hh..”

“Bless you,” chorused the other two, again. Anita passed over the tissue box but he could barely keep his eyes open and his breath from shaking. She took pity on him as his hitches became jagged, pitching in his upper register, and she held out a few in his direction just as he- heeee-!

“-ick’SSHIEW?!”

It relieved him, but his shoulders flinched to his ears at the embarrassingly high sound. Delta quickly turned away with a hand to his mouth and Dr. Voster snorted unabashedly.

“Bless yew!” she parroted, and he kicked her off the bed. She rolled with the momentum into a smooth dismount before plopping right back where she’d been. “I’m done, I’m done! But you owe me a couple free jabs after yelling at me yesterday, you know.”

Right. His stomach soured at the reminder, and he stared at the blankets with a sleeved swipe under his septum. “.. I’mb sorry about that. I shouldn’d have taken out my frustration on you. Or lied to you in the first place.”

Dr. Voster softened, the lines of her face smoothing into something genuine. “Mm, I’m sorry for my sloppy science. It’s my fault you’ve got such a lousy cold.” 

Omicron never knew what to say after such sentiments. He considered and tossed out several replies, still boring holes into the blankets with his gaze, until she reached up and flicked the tip of his nose. His inhale was a hitch into the next before he flinched down toward his chest. 

“h-h-H’TZssh!” He brought a sleeve to his nose belatedly, throwing a scowl her way. “Whad was that for?!”

“For lying to me about that other thing,” she said, leering over him with a grin. “... Seems like you really are the man-cold type.”

Omicron hurled his pillow at her, which she dodged and Delta caught one-handed when it soared across the room. His firm voice broke up a squabble before it could begin. “Enough, you two.” He fluffed the pillow and returned it to his sheepish subordinate before looking to Anita. “Well?”

“Either his immune system is reacting to the engineered virus, or somehow he’s caught another cold on top of this one,” she said. Both looked to Omicron, who was trying to blow his nose without popping an eardrum. “If it’s the former, the mission can proceed. If it’s the latter, we bench him. That’s my opinion as his physician.”

“I’b righd here,” Omicron grumbled behind a mask of tissues.

Delta ignored him. “How do we know which is the case?”

Dr. Voster reached for the medical bag on the floor by her feet, which Omicron only just now noticed was in her possession. “By administering a test,” she replied, digging through it. When she found what she sought, Anita presented it to Omicron with an apologetic smile. “You’re not going to like it though.”

He thought it was a syringe at first. Before he could react, she peeled open the thin package to show him what was inside. Somehow, it was worse. Delta hissed through his teeth and Omicron hovered a protective hand over his nose.

“No,” he told her, eyes glued to the offending object. “No, no. That’s not going to work.”

Dr. Voster twirled it between her fingers: a wickedly long plastic rod with a cotton tuft on the end. “A nasal swab is the fastest way, O.”

He shook his head, unable to look away from it. The sight alone caused his nose grief as the tickle found inspiration. Omicron did his best not to imagine how it would feel. “Anita, it’s not possible. I-.. I can’t evehhn.. look at- at it withhou..HH!with.. withhHHAH-”

Omicron jammed a finger beneath his nose and shoved the sneeze back inside. He could tell he’d be on a roll if he started, and while he’d literally just cum he was terrified this impending volley would get him going again. If at all possible, even if everyone was aware of the situation, he’d like to avoid erections in front of his fucking coworkers. He held his breath and waited until his pulsing nostrils quieted before letting it all go on a sigh. Pointedly, he avoided looking at the swab.

“Hmmmm,” Dr. Voster mused. “I wonder if we blindfolded you..”

“Trust me,” he said, knuckling his nose. It wasn’t happy he’d ignored its demands. “That’s not going to help.”

“Rather than hold them back, could you try holding them in?” Delta suggested.

“Absolutely not,” Dr. Voster said. “He’s terrible at it, and I wouldn’t recommend it anyway. Not everyone can be as proficient at stifling as you are, sir.”

Delta’s smile weakened, properly chastised, as Voster tilted her head back and pressed her palms on the bed. Her leg bounced in thought. The three of them sat in a contemplative silence broken only by Omicron’s sniffling before Anita slapped her hands to her knees and stood with purpose.

“There’s nothing for it,” she said. “You’ll just have to avoid sneezing.”

“I won’t be able to,” he told her. His cheeks flushed, and the flash of heat mingling with his fever made him tremble with a chill. Stubbornness alone wouldn’t deter her, so he forced out the rest with emphasis. “And it-.. might cause an unexpected symptom.”

That gave her pause, but only briefly. “When exactly did you last experience the culmination of this symptom?”

This was embarrassing. “... approximately ten minutes before you arrived.”

“And would you expect yourself to experience that again so quickly after the last occurance?”

Somehow, he felt miffed on behalf of his refractory period. “.... I guess not.”

“Then even if you sneeze your head off after this, you’ll be fine,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “If for some reason you’re not, it’s not a big deal. Agent Delta and I will just leave the room until it passes.”

I’d rather chew glass, Omicron thought, than have it come to that. The tickle nestled comfortably against his nerves, weighing his eyelids and prompting a reflexive sniffle. Cheeky bastard. He wouldn’t let it win this time. He grated the rough edge of his sleeve under his nostrils and squared his shoulders.

“Fine.” His flinty gaze locked onto the swab, his opponent in this battle. “Let’s do it.”

The other two exchanged a LookTM and preparation shortly followed. Delta announced he’d received a message from cyber security earlier that morning that required follow up, so he left to wire into the agency’s VPN in one of the hotel’s private conference booths. Voster snapped on some gloves and cracked open a fresh tissue box to place at Omicron’s elbow. He begrudgingly unearthed a wad of them to keep ready in his lap. Better safe than sorry.

Anita watched him carefully. “Would you like to get a few out before we start?”

If she was asking, he probably looked sneezy already. Omicron made an effort to sharpen his gaze and settle the tiny, twitching microexpressions that told plainly of a persistent tickle. “No. I want to get it over with.” He sniffled with a flutter of his nostrils. “Quickly.”

To her credit, Anita didn’t dawdle. “I’m administering a nasopharyngeal swab for the best results. If I can’t get enough from one sample, we’ll have to do the other nostril.”

Omicron nodded, tilting his chin when she stabilized him with a hand to his cheek. He blinked hard against a lurching itch as the swab came closer, hovering just in front of his flushed, prone nose.

“I need to rotate it for ten seconds, and then I’ll slowly remove it,” she told him. “Would it help if I counted?”

He flicked his gaze to the ceiling, hands fisted in the sheets over his lap. “Yes.”

“Alright, the count won’t start until I have it in place.” Dr. Voster eased his head back further, giving him a moment to arrange himself against his pillows before she touched the swab to the edge of one nostril. It pulsed, uncertain. “Here we go.”

This wasn’t Omicron’s first time with this particular type of swab. Normally he preferred it because of how deep it reached, so foreign and uncomfortable that a sneeze never crossed his mind. It was the shorter swabs, the ones that remained inside the borders of his persnickety nasal membranes that caused him agony. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he feared? 

A second later that confidence was swiftly and callously dashed.

This cold was unlike any respiratory infection he’d ever had. It was engineered to inflame every cell of his airways, heighten them to such a state of paranoia that the very act of breathing registered as intrusive. This tickle wasn’t a physical thing; his nasal cavity was affected by such sensitivity that it inevitably itched and twitched and worked itself up into mayhem. Sneeze was the answer to every problem, even nonexistent ones. So to have himself in this state and introduce a material object into the mix was an instant and powerful regret.

The swab burned as it was threaded through his sinuses, razing his nerves as it went, and when the tip of it touched the back of his throat he could feel every millimeter of its length. He slammed his eyes shut. There was a brief moment of shock, as if his nose couldn’t quite believe what had happened. Then the swab began to spin.

His nostrils flew wide. “HHHHHHHH-”

“Shit,” muttered Voster. “Stay with me, c’mon, it’s just ten seconds.. Two….”

Just?! his brain screamed, overwhelmed by nasal panic and frantic to sneeze. Oh, he could feel it. An instant and oppressive demand. None of the usual hitching hesitation, just a massive and mandatory release sitting at the shores of his dilated nostrils. He couldn’t even communicate to Voster that it was coming. 

“.. Three, fight it…”

Omicron pinched himself as hard as he dared by digging his thumb into the pressure point of his other hand. It took the edge off the swab’s insidious stimulation and downgraded the sneeze from automatic to imminent. Lungs at capacity, all the air sat at the top. His body wouldn’t let him exhale without irritation-induced force. A pitiful sound escaped, heady and weak without breath behind it.

“-uuhh-”

“I know, we’re halfway, hang in there.. Six..”

God, this was torture. His nose throbbed with need, the insides puffy and convulsing. Please, they cried. It tickles so badly. Too much. We have to! He hovered just on the verge of the inevitable. Grinding harder into the pressure point on his hand dampened the sensation enough to keep it from progressing, but it never diminished. Just waited an inch from the finish line. Another high, helpless whimper trembled his chest.

“-huUH!-”

“Eight.. you’re doing great, Omicron, nine..” The hand on his cheek shifted to brace him firmly. “.. almost done, try to exhale..”

He couldn’t. His lungs wouldn’t let go. All he could do was live on the brink, tears skating down his cheeks and his features frozen in what he knew had to be a ridiculous face. Yearning or dreading, he didn’t know, but his entire expression flinched when the swab retreated. She was slowly pulling it out, still twirling it. He could feel the thin ropes of his control snapping, the dam crumbling, the glass shattering. An urgent, breathy shout slipped out, pure desperation, and it heralded something enormous.

“-HUUHH--!!!”

The swab slithered out of his nose completely, leaving behind a trail of unbearable sensation. “Okay! Y-”

“--HHEZZSSCCCHHHHUUUEE-!” Omicron hurled himself over his own lap, dizzied by the release, and gasped immediately for more. “-hH-HH!IIHZSSSSHH’UUh!!”

More. “-HH’AADZZSSCHH’HOO-!!”

More. “-HEH’DTSSHHH’HAH-!!”

More still. “ohh-.. HD’DIZZSHHHH’HUH!!”

But the relief wouldn’t come. His nose was so angry by the intrusion, it would give no quarter. Big, heaving sneezes weren’t doing the job, so he found himself next encumbered by small ones. They burst out of him in a row, each igniting a furious itch to prompt the next.

“ihDSH!-.. hck’ISSH!.. uh-HH’TZIshh!.. ugh, god-hHIH!” Omicron fought his eyes open through another gush of tears and caught a blurry glimpse of white. Oh right, the tissues. He gathered them up as his gaze rolled skyward, mouth agape and nostrils vast. It took a couple hitches before the tickle caught again. “h-hHT.. idzz..iiH!..mgh.. aH!KZSSCHH!”

He sneezed through his teeth, then belatedly raised the tissues. His eyes fluttered closed as even the soft touch of them pried another sneeze loose. They mounted in power as his nose, fed up with the lingering tickle the swab left behind, puppeteered him through an increasingly vicious fit.

“-h’ETZsh!... huh.. TZSSCH!ue… h-H!...EHPZSH’Iu!!-oohh..”

At last, a wave of pleasure rushed through his veins. It was faint, but after the hellish holdback and punishing sneezes, Omicron welcomed it. The knowledge there would be more spurred him onward; he breathed into the next ticklish swell with hope.

“uh-HHUH-HESZSCHUUE!” Cool prickles swept through his nose, soothing the frazzled nerves even as they clamored for another. Omicron complied. “heh.. HET’JZZSSSCHHOOO!-nngh..”

He shivered as his skin erupted with goosebumps. A warm, wonderful feeling unfurled in his gut. Head spinning, nose twitching, lungs hitching, he knew the end was close. He breathed deeply, relishing the way it tickled all the way down. Then-

“HEH…uh.. hHP’BIZSSSHHIEW!!-oooohhhh..”

Omicron massaged his nose through the tissues with quiet noises of relief until somebody clearing their throat caught his attention. With wet eyes, he raised his head to see Dr. Voster across the room mixing the swab in a vial with some sort of solution. She kept her attention on it as she spoke.

“Feeling better?”

He paused to cough and swallow. The fit left him raspy. “Yeah.”

“Any unexpected symptoms?” she asked. Fuzzy headed, Omicron looked down at his crotch. There was no tent under the covers, and while he felt boneless, he wasn’t turned on.

“Ndo.”

“Great!” Dr. Voster chirped. “In other good news, I got enough particulate matter on the first try that we won’t have to do it again.” She continued her work, but glanced over to shoot him a smile. “Bless you a dozen, by the way.”

“Thagks,” he huffed, then collapsed back onto the mattress with the solace of a job finished. 

It took a few minutes for him to clean himself up, and as he got his wits about him, he was appreciative that Voster kept herself busy so he could tend to his nose without scrutiny. His pleasant haze dissipated and Omicron realized he was totally spent. His head hurt, as did his throat, and his abs were aching. Once he was huddled under the covers, Anita swung by with a bottle of water and hushed instructions to take another fever reducer, which he did without complaint.

Some time passed. He didn’t know how much. One moment he was nodding off to the tinkling the whirs of Voster’s on-the-go mini-laboratory, and the next he was startling awake to a door opening. For a split second he forgot where he was, what was happening, but then a hand smoothed over his hair. 

“Just Delta,” came Anita’s voice. Tension left his sore muscles and he melted back into the mattress. For once his nose took pity on him, smoldering with a widespread ticklish sensation he could chase away by pinch-rubbing the sides of his nostrils.

“Ah, I didn’t mean to wake you!” was Delta’s contrite greeting. Omicron cracked open dry eyes to see the man coming around the bedside, eyebrows turned up in dismay. “Sorry, Omicron.”

“S’fide,” he replied, voice creaking, and he had to turn his head into the pillow to cough. Fuck, felt like he’d swallowed a sword and left it there.

“Goodness, you sound terrible.” Delta turned anxious eyes to Dr. Voster, who was leaning a hip against her makeshift workstation at the desk by their balcony doors. “Did you get the results?”

“Yep,” she said, cheerfully brandishing the culture sample. “No secondary infection. He’s just having a pronounced immune response to the engineered strain.” Here, she smirked at the Omicron-shaped lump on the bed. “And being very dramatic about it.”

Delta caught the pillow lobbed in her direction before it could knock any lab equipment over. He arranged it back on the bed, then passed his hand over Omicron’s brow. The smaller man let him, closing his eyes as the cool touch moved to his cheek, to his neck, then glided to his shoulder to offer a reassuring pat.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Please be honest.”

Omicron thought of the mission. It didn’t escape him that Dr. Voster confirmed he wasn’t actually sick. His body thought he was, but with proper symptom management he could see this assignment to the end. Josaline would probably love seeing him like this; hopefully her husband would too. 

“Ndot great,” he admitted, and Delta’s puppy-dog expression ramped up tenfold. Omicron rolled his eyes before he could stop himself. “I’b ndot dying, sir. If I get someb rest, I’ll be ready for tomborrow.”

The fact that he’d said all this without even sitting up likely undercut his claims, but Omicron truly believed it. When the time came, he’d rally. He always did. Delta considered him for a long moment before plopping down onto the other bed with a dejected bounce.

“Even if that’s the case, the situation has changed,” he said, lacing his fingers together between his knees. “I got word from Ops that there were attempted hacks into multiple independent identification networks for a ‘Nicolas Foster.’”

Omicron struggled up onto his elbows. 

.. So, they were onto him. At the very least, they were wary of his cover. This wasn’t entirely unexpected. At the agency they explored every outcome, including this one. Josaline Jewel was a suspected cyber criminal. She was rich enough, powerful enough, smart enough to avoid the law. They’d chased her for years. This outcome wasn’t unexpected, but it still ripped a hole through Omicron’s sails.

All this work, he thought, blinking away a sting behind his eyes. For nothing? Because I wasn’t good enough?

“Don’t despair,” Delta commanded. “The hacks left traces and the cyber team is on it. It’s possible they’ll identify a source, and if they do, we can hack them back. This is a victory.”

It didn’t feel like one. Omicron slouched against the headboard, sniffling and sniffling as he compartmentalized any emotions he felt on the matter. Hopefully the others would attribute it to his cold. He nodded at Delta’s words, casting around for his tissue box. He’d knocked it off the bed at some point. Anita silently fetched it from the floor. 

“Intel also shows that they have not left the resort,” Delta continued, gaze glued to Omicron as the man piled tissues under his nostrils. “This suggests they either found nothing dubious in your cover, which I doubt, or…” 

Here, Delta paused and gave his subordinate a little ‘go on’ wave. Omicron flushed, but did as he was told. One big, trembling breath and then a gurgling nose blow. As always, it was much louder than he wanted and yet again he asked himself what unspeakable deed he’d done to deserve this level of karmic retribution. His nose didn’t feel refreshed afterward; rather, it was peeved. He wrinkled the bridge against a dull, undulating tickle.

“Or?” he prompted.

“Or.. they know you’re not who you say you are, but want to meet with you anyway.”

.. Could they be that horny? Omicron mused, swatching the length of his forefinger back and forth beneath restless nostrils. He recalled his time with Josaline by the pool. Yes, probably.

Sniffling, he asked, “Does this chhh..change anything?” 

“They didn’t hack our network directly, so they have no idea what your true identity is or who you work for,” Delta said. “But the nature of the encounter will be unpredictable.”

Red-rimmed eyes tightened at the corners and he gave up on the finger method in favor of tissues. He spoke as he gathered them, his voice wavering into breathier territory as the tickle took shape.

“I c-.. cahhn.. hh..handle unpredict-t.. tahbBBZZSH!” He caught it one handed, not bothering to open his eyes as he lowered the tissues just enough to continue as he contended with an encore. “.. I can handle that.. hhah..” A sharp sniffle. “.. but I doubt they’d t-.. they’d tehh.. hih!PPZSH’uh!.. nguh, tell mbe adythi’g..”

“Well about that, bless you, we need them occupied and away from electronics if we attempt a hack.”

Omicron squinted over his tissues. “So I’d be..”

“A distraction, yes.”

The original mission was to extract incriminating information from the target, but considering the new variables at play, this new directive would be just as effective. Honestly, with this cold, Omicron wasn’t sure he could finesse a subtle interrogation with stellar results. Acting as smoke and mirrors for the cyber team, however.. 

“..hh!uhh.. hHT-”

That, he could definitely do.

“-DZSSh’oo!”

/tbc!

Next up, the big date!! ♨️ Apologies to anyone who was hoping for the threesome this chapter 😅 Had to indulge my rabid desire for hurt/comfort lol. A big huge thank you to anyone reading who’s stuck around!! My next update might be a little slow because of work stuff, but hoping to have it up in a decent time frame. See you soon! 🥰

PART 4 IS HERE!

[cherryredstars]

Oh lord wonderful. My love for you has just doubled, you have no idea. May I please request a exes to lovers mid apocalypse sex with Ellie Williams?? Make it hateful I love it when that girl is mean ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ love you lots

Pairing: Ellie Williams x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fingering, "Public" Sex

A/N: Been wanting to write this but didn't have time :(

Unedited

You hate this place.

You never understood why Ellie was so obsessed with the abandoned mall. Everywhere you went, it felt like something was lurking in the dark corners of a trashed store. It made you overly paranoid, and your hand constantly twitched towards your weapon.

"Boo."

You whip around, hand coming up before being grasped firmly by a warm hand. You freeze up, an annoyed exhale parting from your lips as you come face to face with Ellie's freckled face.

"What the fuck, Ellie." You scoff, roughly tugging your hand away from her grip.

Ellie only chuckles, walking past you to scope out a store. "Not my fault you're so fidgety."

You roll your eyes, reluctantly following after her. Trash and random objects thrown to the floor during raiding and panicked evacuations crumble under your shoes. The sound echoes in the hollow area, and you wearily glance over your shoulder. Nothing looks amiss, but it never hurts to be careful.

"God, could you relax? The place is cleared out." Ellie calls back to you.

She's preoccupied with scanning what's left on the shelves. They're remnants of what was popular before the outbreak, all covered with dust and rotted. Sometimes, when you and Ellie were paired on outings together, the two of you would theorize what they were used for or why they were so popular. When clothes were in good enough condition, Ellie would sneak some back for you and have you model them for her. Now, you'd rather get infected before dressing up for her again.

"You never know." You defend, looking back one more time before venturing deeper into the store.

Most of the things here don't catch your interest, all too decayed to really decipher what they were. You walk out from a row of shelves at the same time as Ellie, and you swiftly look away when you make eye contact.

"What are we even doing here, anyways?" You sigh, just loud enough for Ellie to hear as you browse through another aisle. "This place has been raided too many times to have anything good."

"Do you always have to ruin the fun?" Ellie calls back, the sound of her picking up and placing something down reaching your ears.

You make a face at the rusty metal shelves, rolling your eyes as you silently mock her words. You almost bump into Ellie when you exit to the main walkway, and she quickly grabs your elbow to stop you from falling into the shelf. You grumble, shaking her off again as you walk over to a counter with an empty register. You hoist yourself up, wiping the dust sticking to your hands on your pants.

"I don't understand why you like this place so much," You remark, tilting your head at Ellie as she makes her way over to you.

You expect her to sit besides you if anything, but her hands find their way to either side of your body as she cages you in. The position is intimate, and it reminds you of all the other times your quests were delayed due to stolen moments reserved for just you two. Your eyes trail to her chapped lips, and you hold your breath for a moment before meeting her eyes again.

She has that annoying know-it-all look in her eyes, and you've always been stuck in a limbo of wanting to punch her in the face and kissing her every time she flashes you with it. As if sensing your thoughts, Ellie leans her face closer to yours. You can feel the suffocating warmth of her exhales ghost over your skin, and your lips part slightly as you continue to hold eye contact.

"Sentimental value." Ellie whispers in response to your question.

You can feel her hand creeping closer to your thigh, her pinkie brushing against the covered skin. You try to hide the way your breath hitches and your leg tenses, your thighs pressing closer together to escape her touch. You start to lean your head back, desperate for some personal space, but Ellie's other hand quickly grabs the back of your neck to keep you in place.

"Careful, you might fall back." Ellie jokes, pulling your head back towards her.

You can feel her lips brushing against your own with each of her words. The dry skin catches on your lips, and your eyes fall to them. Ellie seems to be doing the same, a small smile twitching at the side of her lips as your tongue brushes against her mouth as you go to lick your lips. Her thumb brushes over the pulse point in your neck, and you know she can feel the way it jumps.

"What's got you so nervous?" She teases, "Scared a monster will getcha?"

Before you can respond, Ellie silences you with a slow kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, exhaling through your nose as you slowly move your lips to match hers. You can practically feel the way her brows furrow, her tongue licking at the seams of your lips as her hand near your thigh slowly brushes up the side of it. She swallows the gasp you let out effortlessly as she squeezes the fat of it, grasp firm as she slowly pulls it away to part your legs. Despite the buzzing bliss swarming in your head, your hands land on her shoulders and you roughly pull her away.

"We can't-" You choke, locking your elbows when she tries to push against your hold. "There might be Infected-"

Ellie groans, pushing hard enough against your hands that they break away. She almost topples into you from the force she extorts, but she's quick to catch herself.

"I told you the coast was clear." She scoffs, roughly tugging you back into a kiss. It's messier than the earlier one, clearly fueled with annoyance. "You never fucking listen when I speak."

You moan against her lips, melting into her as she continues where she left off. Her fingers skim over the seam running down your crotch, and your body bucks into it. Ellie huffs against your lips, a proud smirk disrupting your kiss. Her fingers trail higher up until they reach the button of your jeans, fingers skilled as they flick it open and reach for your zipper. The sound of the zipper scraping against the teeth echoes in the small space between the two of you. Ellie groans when she feels you place all your weight against the counter, making it impossible to pull your pants down.

"It's gross here." You comment, breathing heavily. Your lips are puffy from her kissing, and saliva makes them shiny.

"So is everywhere else in the world." Ellie tsks, tugging at your pants. "Want me to take you against a wall instead?"

You huff, lifting your hips as Ellie begins to pull them down just far enough to get access to your underwear. Her fingers skim over the dampening fabric, eyes trained on it. You shiver when the cold air brushes against your skin, and you exhale slowly when Ellie's fingers ghost over your inner thigh. Your eyes fall to watch her, but you quickly scrunch up your nose.

"Ellie, you're hands are disgusting." You sneer, catching sight of the dirt clinging under her nails and crusting over her palms.

Ellie groans, slapping the hand from around your neck over her mouth. An annoyed tick scrunches the space between her brows and she glares at you. "Don't you ever shut up? If you care so much, you can lick them clean."

She rolls her eyes at the disgusted look that casts over your eyes, and she pinches your cheeks together and gives them a small wag. "Then be quiet."

Your breath hitches under her hand as her fingers slowly pull your underwear to the side. Your cunt is dripping and glossy despite all the lame excuses you've used to delay her. Ellie admires it for a second, watching the way you pulse from her attention before running a finger over your slick. She can feel the warmth of your gasp against the crevices of her palm, mimicking the warmth of your wet folds. Your hips buckle into her touch, and Ellie chuckles at your desperation. Her finger dips into your small hole, moaning at the way you instantly suck her in.

"God," Ellie mumbles, eyes trained on the arousal dribbling down her finger. "So needy."

You mumble something against her palm, closely resembling the tone of a rebuttal. Ellie quickly shuts it up by forcing another finger inside of you, your walls clenching quickly around the new thickness. Her fingers curl into you, pressing into the gummy walls of your cunt. They squelch from the wetness, the sound echoing in the quietness of the mall. Your moans escalate in volume despite being muffled, and Ellie groans as your walls flutter violently against her fingers.

"That's it, let it out." She coos, her fingers spearing into your soft spot until you spasm.

You fall slack against her, her hand falling away to cradle you as you mewl into her shoulder. Your body shakes against her, and Ellie pets your hair as you come down from your high. When your muscles finally feel solid again, you slowly push yourself off of her and take a deep breath. Your face scrunches as Ellie takes her wet fingers into her mouth, cleaning them off. You turn your head away, sliding off of the counter and pulling your pants back up.

"You're fucking disgusting."

[sukunas-wife]

the Dadkuna series is great!!! Sukuna isn’t my main character that I like in jjk but this series has me SAT and WAITING for the next upload! I’ve always wondered though what momkuna and dadkuna’s relationship dynamic is. We get that sort of in how they met but what about when their relationship is established? I get the sense that obviously dadkuna would quite literally do anything for her but what exactly goes through his mind when he thinks about her?

Oh? Guess whose back 😎🤧

Me- I’m sickly too 🤭 but! The blog is picking up 🥺 and I’ve been working on this for a good time so here you go 🤍🤍🤍

(Indentions are thoughts, things he didn’t actively say out loud 🥺🤍)

Lord Ryomen Sukuna, though emotionally stunted and constipated, loves his wife. Would level cities and kill men easily if she didn’t have such a strong hold in him.

But he’s a misogynist at heart to an extent. He wants you at home with his kids being his cute little wife that he knows he can always come home to. It was your overwhelming passion for helping women who couldn’t bear children that convinced him he could let you live your life, as long as he knew he had people there to look over you when he couldn’t.

He appreciates the fact that when he’s tired, covered in blood that’s not his own, and carrying the exhaustion of his war ridden day, there you are rushing to him when he enters his temple. Disregarding your fine silk robes and the blood partly way on his body. The way you cling to him, always so happy and relieved to see him come home.

The first time he came home after being gone for so long, he remembers how you cried and held on to him, your anguished filled cries when you cried about how you thought he was never coming back, how you were scared he’d left you alone. He remembers how his hands found your waits holding you a bit away, another hand coming to cup your face, thumb wiping away your tears when he looked at you with tired eyes, “It would take the militia of this land's greatest sorcerers to even consider preventing my way back to your embrace.” Your teary eyes softened before you buried your face in his chest again hugging him and clinging to him.

He longed for that feeling of your embrace whenever he would leave you behind, he could deny it but on his way home to you, his heart ached and longed to feel your embrace and hear your praises of how he had returned. You cried no more because you were filled with that confidence he would always return.

——————

He’s a traditional man with his one form of values, not once did he long for sexual pleasure or was he consumed with lust. Misery, pain and the screams of his victims fueled him and filled him with an immense pleasure no woman’s body could ever possibly offer him.

They were all the same, sultry, scandalous, attention seeking harlots, prostitutes and women. Thinking they could better their lives if they could slip into his bed. They were wrong, every woman who he allowed to enter his bed chamber under these pretences had walked in with starry eyes and ambition. Only to cry and scream for their life while he slowly dug his nails into their flesh tearing them all apart, slowly and agonisingly. That was until he saw you that one day, any girl of age would’ve started to present themselves to him in shy or subtle ways hoping to catch his eyes. There you were kneeling out of respect in his presence, scared you had offended your lord.

‘Oh? Is this little morsel afraid?’ Fear filled and humbling yourself before him. You couldn’t look at him, there wasn’t an ounce of “I want to sleep with this man.” And yet these feelings caused a sentiment in the depths of his chest, something stirred inside him, you head captured his interest (non sexual at this point). ‘Hmm?, this will be a fine pet to break.’

You were a phenomenon in the temple, one he wanted to study, to take into his clawed hands and mould, twist, stretch and push to the edge and then just over the point of breaking to see what would become of you. Yet, once he had you in hands reach, once you were close enough for him to graze your skin with his nails… he didn’t treat you like a common daisy or water Lilly, no he took you into his hands like a Lotus floating on the water's surface. Making elegant work and taking care of your delicate bloom. You would be his delicate lotus that no one else would ever take the joy in having.

——————

“My gratifying queen, My delicate lotus, My benevolent wife.” Words he doesn’t speak so freely, he whispers them against your skin whenever you’d sleep by his side.

Delicate words and honeyed names had never once crossed his mind in his existence. Yet here he was, allowing himself to indulge in the smallest amount of vulnerability with these words. The press of his feverish kisses against your neck and cheeks between every word.

‘My little beloved pet, so tired, sleeping away the wares of today. How could something so small and insignificant like you cause this shift in my existence hm?’

The back of his hand brushing hair away from your face, nails grazing the side of your face lightly, he held you in his embrace watching you. Two arms securely around you, one supporting his head, the other kept grazing your skin. You’d stir in your sleep when he shifted slightly away from you to lay on his back. You’d become so used to his body heat even on the hottest days you’d search him out half awake.

‘My little lotus,’ he closed the space between you, pulling you into his side again, ‘rest your weary head without worries of tomorrow, I’m here to hold you now.’

He wouldn’t admit it, he didn’t even know it at that moment, but he was absolutely smitten with you in ways he had yet to comprehend. But it showed in his subconscious movements. A hand on your lower back or waist guiding you, knowing you’re close and safe.

Bringing home little jewels and trinkets he’d usually never spare a second glance . That is until a stone sparkles in the light of his flames and he stops briefly to take a close look.

My queen would look Devine with these adorning her neck. These stones would make fine pieces for my wife.

It was a shock when he came home one night waking you when he sat on the bed. You sat up sleepily while he handed you a bag of precious stones and jewels telling you he had brought you a gift, a free hand of his brushing your hair back and bringing you closer by the back of your head so he could kiss your lips.

——————

It was your wedding, there you were standing beside him in the Ceremonial Robes. You stood on his right, his eyes looking down at you.

Hmm, What an enticing display, to have my little pet dressed up so exquisitely for all to see and admire.

Even more enticing to know soon you’ll be round with my child, what an ethereal sight you will be laid out in silk robes and swollen carrying my legacy

My delicate little lotus, my malevolent queen, my gratifying and honourable wife. Perhaps these thoughts never be spoken aloud with heavy sentiment. But I vow myself to you in this instant, that I will do all to assure our future, our health, our children and our endless lives.

I will assure your hand never be left cold nor alone as long as I can take it. nor will it ever be lifted in vain or to labour. Your stomach is never empty as I will assure you have the finest wine and a feast every night if it’s what your little human heart desires, your head will always have a place to rest even if it is only on my chest. Your nights will never be cold, your days will never be short, your loneliness will exist no longer, and your heart will be mine, and mine will be yours.

It wasn’t all he told himself, but it was in the moment you felt a warm sensation against your skin, on your chest below the centre of your collar bone but above your breast was the same mark you’d seen on his tongue very few times.

Ryomen Sukuna DID NOT enjoy the thought of staining your teeth black, instead he took your hand, as if vowing and brains you, the ring finger of your left hand, the base faded to a black band, above it a snark mark matching your chest and another thin black bank, just below your nail was another black band. That’s how your little husband decided to present you as his.

Tag List: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks

@bofadeezs

@sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira

Broken :( @simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @ilovemybabies378 @anyaswlrd @cyder-puff

[lemotmo]

Oh hey I like this. Yes let it be This

Q. I'm sorry but what would be the point of faking the entire thing resulting in massively pissing off your audience twice?

A. I do think there's a purpose to what they're doing. I also think the execution of it could have been much better. But regardless of flaws, we're here now so here's what I think the point of the entire thing will end up being. I think Bobby will return, but I think what they've done is signal that he won't return in the same capacity or role he originally occupied. Peter himself has said, more than once, that he's no longer up for doing the rigorous stunt stuff, and he has mentioned the long hours taking a toll. I think this whole thing is a changing of the guards of sorts for the show. Bobby will return, but not as captain. Peter will return, but not as the main focus. I think it's the beginning of shifting the spotlight to the other characters. It's kay to let the other characters take center stage now. And allowing the other characters to believe Bobby is dead is also a good way to get some movement in their individual storylines before he returns to the land of the living. Storylines that have been neglected or ignored all together so the show can focus on disaster episodes which neglect much needed character driven episodes. All of these characters have value in their own right but most of the time they get relegated to the sidelines in favor of focusing on the same things over and over again.

Bobby's 'death' would be a devastating reminder that life is short and people aren't promised tomorrow, a regular theme on this show. Grief is a strong motivational tool for life changes. And an excellent way to move storylines forward. Hen is ready and more than capable of being captain. It's probably something she should have been seeking for a while, but it was Bobby's rightful place. Gerard being in the captain chair is not something that the 118, or the audience for that matter, will allow to become permanent. It's the perfect opportunity for Hen to go for something she has more than earned and proved she can handle. Chimney has come such a long way since season one. He is a husband and father and has become a really good firefighter and paramedic. it's time to let him assume a stronger presence and leadership role within the 118. He's more than comic relief and Maddie's husband. That brings us to tweedle dee and tweedle dumb (you can decide for yourself which one is which 😉). But losing Bobby is the perfect catalyst to jolt that storyline into motion. Eddie needs a reason to examine things. Buck is primed and ready but the show has to get Eddie to the same place before Buck can be allowed to acknowledge what he's avoided since episode 11. Eddie has already lost Shannon. Adding the loss of Bobby would be a major 'the universe is screaming at you' reason for Eddie to finally allow himself to listen to and acknowledge what he really wants for himself in this life.

Bobby's 'death' allows all of that to happen. It allows major character movement and growth for everyone, That's what I think the point of this whole thing is. Moving Bobby's kids into the next phases of their lives. It's fitting. It makes sense and it allows the show to enter into its next phase. Bobby will still be present and important, but the spotlight will shift to his kids.

Thank you Nonny!

Yep, I reblogged a post earlier that had the same sentiment. I fully agree and I honestly couldn't have said it better than this.

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[softenkiss]

breakin their heart (pt 1)! yandere knights of favonius ଓ

tw. yandere, obsessive + posessive behavior, delusional behavior, clingyness, stalking, kidnapping, drugging, rumors & being pressured into things (reader)!

notes. rewritten based on the old post (which has been DELETED,, rip 😔 dw though the others are still privated) enjoy loves (and i hope you like this style of my writing!!) ♡

jean:

oh boy. she does NOT take it well. she's literally like :(( the whole time.

girl is trying her hardest to stay calm but it's hard 😔 the love of her life is literally leaving her,, how can someone not expect her to freak out?? she's trying her damn hardest to convince u to stay. it's her busy work schedule isn't it? she'll make time for you, she swears!! you can even stay in her office as she works if it's not possible. just don't go...

(jean doesn't come to the conclusion that no, her work is not one of the main reasons why you're trying to break up with her. it's her freakish obsessive behavior. and no, she probably won't ever come to that fact either. definitely gaslights herself and goes right back to thinking that her load of work is the main and ONLY reason why ur trying to leave).

when the words leave your lips, she's shaking. blunt and icy, jean's not used to u sounding so cold! her hands are trembling and she can't bear to look at you, drowning your words out because archons...she bear to look at you right now. she already knows that she'll break down into tears and start sobbing pathetically.

keeps quiet and most likely let's you leave with only a few pleading words. you deserve someone better, someone that actually has the time to love and care for you, but by the gods...she couldn't (and wouldn't) let that happen! you both belong together, even if you don't seem to see it.

(which is totally understandable, she gets it, she gets u! she'll be better just for you <3)

overloads herself with work, paperwork mostly. duties related outside remind her too much of you. she'll pass by windrise and literally start bawling (that tree over there was the same one where u both had you're first date!). the other knights are extremely worried about her, and it's not too hard to put the pieces together.

(lisa walked into her office once to her literally sobbing while holding a picture of you in her arms,, her sadness is very easy to see)

some of the knights try (maybe even forcefully hint at it too? they're desperate) to get you back with jean,, coming into ur house and informing you of her behavior. if that doesn't work, jean will...eventually take things into her own hands.

gifts and a overwhelming flow of letters sent to you are her ways of getting you back! ur door is practically loaded with stuff and you always end up tripping over something when you walk out the door. her gifts are sentimental and always (attempt) to alick a memory back into ur head.

(the pink roses she leaves you brings up the time she made a whole garden just for you, or the fancy set of jewelry u once mentioned that you wanted. she has a good memory and writes anything you mention you want down in case she forgets <3)

if you even show the slightest bit of fondness in her gifts/letters, jean immediately takes this as you wanting to get back together. and boy,, does she start amping her efforts up to 100%. i can see her also starting to act a little better and the other knights are just like 'jean seems to be getting better! we should try to help out so she's feeling better again!' and start pressuring you again. they, along with jean, are very persistent and won't stop until you get back with her :))

amber:

thinks ur very silly and just kisses your cheek! just another silly moment from her darling partner, you're hilarious! it'll take a while to convince her otherwise that no, you aren't being 'silly' right now and that you want to break up with her because she's an obsessed weirdo.

(and to stop trying to tickle u in an attempt to make you laugh. because she will definitely bounce on the fact as soon as she sees you start to crack a smile. she knew you were joking! you're smiling and everything!)

and even then, after showing her that you actually mean it, she's...laughing. it's strained and slightly nervous, but she's laughing. her lips twist into a (fake) smile and she justs itching to grab you. ur arm or anything! you have to be joking...right? her smile will widen into a grin that makes you uneasy, though u stay quiet.

opposite of jean completely, doesn't even try to hide how upset she is. just starts clinging into ur arm and begging and pleading for you to stay. oh archons, you can't leave her, please! please, don't go! please...? she begs of you...

you'll literally have to drag yourself back home with her clinging onto ur leg /hj. she will NOT let you leave omg 😭 on a serious note though you could probably just push her off (u gotta use your muscles her grip is tight as hell 😔) and just leave her there sobbing. she'll get over it, amber always does! it's for the best for both of your sakes (...mostly for ur sake though).

amber comes to work looking a MESS. eyes puffy and hair all frazzled. everyone's worried for her and wondering what happened, and soon she just starts sobbing again. she's misses you so much and will literally start crying in the arms of whoever embraces her first 😭

once the knights are informed of the situation (because unlike jean, amber can't help herself and spits out everything),, they're going RIGHT to u. you think you're about to be arrested one day when two knights are at your door but they're literally just there to get you back with her lmao

girlie is a mess without u. she can't eat, sleep, work, nothing. all she can think of is you and it's just so hard to get out of bed 😔 she will...someday with the pursuit of getting you back! yep, that's what she'll do and she'll do it well!

boy,, she does NOT leave you alone for even a second. she's all over u and literally acting as if ur still dating. she's buying you gifts, food (tons of food, lots of food), and even writing you letters (even if she's not...all that good at it- she's trying her hardest, okay??). the knights are also helping her too because seeing the energetic outsider so depressed is not something they want to see :(( ...atleast they care??

give her a inch she takes a fucking MILE. thanking her for paying for your food? you obviously want her back omg,, it's a sign!! she's squealing and literally so happy and ur just trying to enjoy the food and just 😐🍕

(she knew you wanted her back!! she just needed to court you again and gain ur love back! she promises she'll never make the same mistake again, she swears!! she knows how much u hate her popping into ur house unannouced and stealing your stuff so she won't do it! ...as much)

kaeya:

woe is him and he is woe... 😔

he's just so hurt, heartbroken even. the love of his life is breaking up with him, just leaving him as if the relationship between you both wasn't anything. he's just so sad,, sniffle sniffle...

...

seriously, though. he's just :)) throughout ur whole breakup speech. you'll be going off on how u noticed he's been stalking you and the way hes been distancing you away from ur loved ones and he's just grinning and shit.

obviously this pisses u off because he's just taking this so...nonchalantly?? archons,, you can't stand him! u walk out steaming and he can't help but grin and watch you walk away. he's confident, that's for sure. like he knows you'll come back.

but how wrong he is, because unfortunately (for him) you don't! he watches you even before the 'break up' and he's watching you now,, and you seem so...relaxed. happy, even. better off without him in your life.

(this won't do at all. don't you know u mean so fondly to him? don't you know he can't live without you? your disregardment for his feelings really breaks his heart, y'know?)

has a very particular plan on winning u back up his sleeves,, just you wait :)) it'll all start with him being so kind and gifting you things you know you want (or need), and being a corny lovey dovey letter writer (shakespeare wannabe). this'll last for a good month or so and if he sees no sign of process,, it's time for the other part of his plan!

(he obviously has layers to this. this is you he's trying to win back, he's gotta put in all the stops!)

this...is the part where things get a little messy for u 😬 he necessarily doesn't want to,, but his other plans revolve him doing worser (hint! hiding you away is one of them!), so this is for the best for both of ya, okay?

people are going to start avoiding you. with some, it's sudden. with others, it's slower, but it's not unnoticeable. it's strange, because you don't remember doing anything wrong to anyone, but everyone's avoiding you! ...except your little secret admirer (who really isn't so secret,, he signs all the shit he's get you proudly 😇)

and who's behind all this weird behavior from the people in mondstadt? well give it up for ur ex, kaeya alberich! he's a snotty little weasel,, and you have a inkling feeling who the perpetrator was (and ur right!! kaeya thinks your a very smart cookie!!). confronting him won't get u anywhere honestly because he won't admit to it, he has nothing to admit! ...unless you get back together, of course :33

it's all up to you really. facing the rumors with ur head up high and avoiding him won't get you much anywhere as he'll just end up snatching you away after a while (he loves and hates how mentally strong you are sometimes!). and giving up will just have you back in his arms, which was he wanted from the start! he won this little game of urs fair and square!

lisa:

she's drugging your ass lmao

joking...kinda. she's not going to start pleading and begging for you to say, though she's obviously going to be upset. she has emotions, can't you see? she's frowning so deeply 😞

lisa doesn't want you to leave her. she loves you! if that wasn't obvious with how keen she is of having you all to herself and throwing off potential rivals in pursuit of u, then she doesn't know what is! won't you atleast share a cup of tea with her first, just before you go?

(DON'T drink the tea. it's drugged and you will fall asleep before even finishing the cup)

and hey, even if you don't wanna relax with her for the last time, then you both can still be friends right? or atleast hang out possibly? she's rather persistent but it doesn't come off as clingy/pathetic because she's just rather calm about it all. and unlike kaeya, she's not faking dramatics and just let's you leave.

(obviously,, this is all just ruse to get u back into her arms. she's saddened, really. she truly is. she truly didn't expect for u to see her...darker behavior but she always knew you were a smart cookie <3)

will give you a week or two before she's slowly inching back into ur life. she'll give you a small wave, a quiet hello, etc etc. it's little things really. short conversations soon start happening again and she'll just ask u how ur days going, that sort of thing. she just wants to see how her favorite person is doing! nothing wrong with that, hm?

it'll slowly come to the point where she's offering you to share a cup of tea with her, just like when she tried to break up with u. you can obviously say no, but she'll still want you to take this special batch she has!! it's rather tasty and it's good for calming the drinker down <3

...

liar.

you'll end u stuffed somewhere. it's cold, so extremely cold and ur night clothes aren't much help (she did say the tea was for calming, and u really couldn't sleep that night!). ur obviously scared, but that immediately turns into frustration as soon as lisa appears and tells you her whole plan. tell her that she lied about the tea being for calming and she'll literally just tell you that it wasn't technically a lie! you were still relaxed in your last moments in your home, weren't you? 🙂

(situation will end up the same even if you don't end up taking in the little baits she set up so perfectly for u to take. she didn't expect you to be so smart! she'll just have to go into your house with the key u never took back from her and put something in ur drink, easy peasy :))

[helloaugustmoon]

the girl (me) is (most certainly) [his]

warning: mildly suggestive but nothing too explicit

Michael Jackson x she/her!reader

·˚ ◌༘͙[The Girl Is Mine] ! ˊ

It isn’t unusual for Michael to wake up to the sound of his own music playing; he’d find it frustrating if it didn’t stem from your sincere adoration for him that simply cannot be contained. How could you be the love of his life without being his biggest fan, by default? Hearing the familiar tune playing all the way from the radio in the main kitchen, Michael can’t help chuckling softly, turning to press his face into your pillow, taking a moment to breathe you in before he can bring himself to rise from the bed you share. Your absence from said bed will most definitely warrant at least one pout that you will have to kiss off of his face at some point today, by the way.

Stepping into a loose fitting pair of silk pajamas, Michael uses one hand to begin buttoning up the shirt as he leaves the bedroom and follows the sound of his own song through the mansion the two of you call home, until he finds you in the kitchen. It seems you’ve once again sent the kitchen staff to the pool for the morning, in favor of preparing breakfast yourself. Michael leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest with a fond smile that quickly turns to one of flirtation, watching the way your hips sway in time with the song. Standing at the stove with your back to him, you are blissfully unaware of his presence, and his gaze on you as you dance around, but this is his most treasured view of you; one of his shirts draped over your seductive frame, dancing around without a care in the world, lost to your love for him while not even realizing he’s right here with you.

Very slowly, Michael walks up behind you, his large hands finding your hips through the fabric of his shirt against your skin, causing you to gasp in surprise. His hips fall into an effortless rhythm with yours, swaying side to side, and he hums the melody into the side of your neck.

“That she’s my girl, forever and ever…” Michael sings softly into your ear, harmonizing with himself on the record.

You can’t help giggling like a schoolgirl, his voice always melting you beyond belief.

“Good morning, baby.” He smiles, leaving the lightest kiss on the side of your neck as he continues to sway his hips with yours.

“Morning, angel face. Did you sleep well?” You ask gently, smiling over your shoulder at him.

“Mm, dreamt of you, like always. Never comes close to the real thing.” Michael murmurs into your shoulder, large hands squeezing your hips. “How did you sleep, pretty girl?”

You sigh with an unmistakable swoon, leaning your back against his chest as you continue cooking. “I slept well, yeah; I’d have stayed in your arms if I hadn’t been close to starving to death.”

That has Michael laughing.

“Oh? Wasting away beside me, were you? My poor love!” He teases.

“The situation was dire.” You answer in a feigned serious tone, oozing dramatics that he knows all too well.

“Hmm, I can think of a situation that’s far more dire.” Michael’s lips trail the side of your neck, his hips pressing against yours just a touch more from where he stands behind you, still swaying to the music.

Your eyes widen. Before you know it, you’re breaking into a fit of giggles.

“Here I am, preparing a lovely breakfast for you-“ It’s a far from serious sentiment, but you are cut off regardless.

“That I am ever so grateful for.” Michael interjects playfully.

You scoff at him. “Then how can you suggest we waste it?” You ask him with a raised eyebrow, peering up at him from where your back is pressed to his chest.

“Never waste it, baby, just…postpone it. We can eat this later, and it’ll be just as delicious, I’ll bet. Right now, I’m hungry for something very different.” Michael teases, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear.

“And what’s that?” You ask with a deliberate tone of innocence, but the breathlessness in your voice gives way to your true feelings on the matter, causing him to smirk against your skin.

“A girl who happens to be mine.” His voice is barely above a whisper, and no sooner are the words uttered than he’s swung you up and into his arms bridal style, carrying you back up to your bedroom. Which, much to your shared relief, is an entire floor, lest there be enough noise to travel through a wall or two.

At the pool, the kitchen staff begin exchanging petty cash and rolls of their eyes, overhearing your squeals of delight and Michael’s laughter, and heading inside to continue cooking the breakfast they had bet you wouldn’t be able to finish before you were whisked away by your man.

[pleasantspark]

VivziePop might be a (Neo Nazi) and here's why.

Disclaimer

I usually don't make high claims about these types of things and this is actually based on vibes I got, until she properly actually comes out with a explanation these are mere speculation and not concrete.

This is a more transcript coded post for my upcoming video and series I will be making titled the VivziePop Chronicles.

Now if you disagree or find this completely false it's fine. But I'm no Lily Orchard who based things off of ONE thing that they created in the sense of coincidences.

Once again. Here's a reminder to not send hate to ANYONE talked about.

What are Nazis

Nazis are a hate group symbolized by specific hate towards Jewish people in particular. They are a group of people who mainly hate on everything but their own kind.

Led by Adolf Hitler. Nazis had committed grave crimes in the name of being seen as superior to the Jewish Race. Sending Jewish people to concentration camps where they were either gassed or straight up experimented on.

There was some Jewish people that escaped before Hitler did anything and or hid (The well known case in Anne Frank.)

But as of now Hitler is dead and had committed suicide. But don't let that fool you. Just because the main ringleader of this extreme hate crime is dead doesn't mean Nazi symbolism had died out.

What are Neo-Nazi's?

Neo-Nazi's are a hate group subgroup of the main Nazi's, the reason why it's called Neo-Nazi's is to seperate the main group from this group. Neo-Nazi's are Post-Nazism and wanting to bring back that sentiment thus neo-nazi.

An example of a Neo-Nazi is the Furry Raiders, a group lead by Foxlr Nightglove who (and I shit you not.) has an armband of a paw.

Neo Nazi's oftentimes spreads racist, sexist, xenophobic and uses harmful rhetroic in order to insult the people they hate, this and combined with the Alt-Right makes a terrible mix.

Incident One: Nazi OC's

In around the early 2010s Sausage Party took everyone by surprise. People assumed (if they never heard of it before or atleast saw the box cover.) that it was for kids but when you open it and placed it in the disk tray, you're in for a surprise.

Sausage Party is an ezample of "Animation is for everyone." so this relates to VivziePop, around that time. I presume possibly before or during Sausage Party's release, Viv created the Nozz-Arts Blog.

Currently, the Blog was not archived but images made during that time we're screenshotted. Such as:

(Note the art trade she did with this person is called and I kid you not, ihatejewce.)

Then to tie it all here's something I found that compared the two.

And finally here's her talking about the Sausage Party Studio.

Before you say. "Oh this has happened ONCE!" well...

Incident Two: Mimzy and Confrontation

Around the time of the full release of Hazbin Hotel, a Jewish User had decided to speak out against the blatant Anti-Semitism. Posting information about Viv's obvious anti-semtism and (releasing the screenshots regarding NozzArts) and pointing out Mimzy being an offense charactiure on Jewish People (Not to mention Rosie who is a jewish stereotype that is a cannibal.)

(Also as a bonus have a yellow racist charactiure of Niffty.)

Another thing that people seldom doesn't realize is Mimzy's design BEFORE the integration into Hazbin.

This is her current design.

Old Design.

Viv has responded to the Allenazations by stating:

She was uncomfortable which is BS, because she doesn't care about people being uncomfortable so why should WE?

Incident Three: "Subhuman"

The final nail in the coffin was Viv liking a tweet that referred to Criticals as "Subhuman"

Before you ask why it's linked to Nazism, here it is.

These things are limited but not include:

Mentally Disabled People

Handicapped People

People who don't fit Hitler's Critera

Speaking of Hitler's Criteria, this might be a stretch butttt.

I've noticed the red and blonde things too often and I realized that most characters (I.E. Abel, Lilith, Charlie and Lucifer) all have blonde hair, Lucifer and Charlie has red eyes, and what's a inverse of red?

Blue, and when you put blonde and blue together?

Hitler. He loved them.

But then again Viv couldn't have done this shit on purpose because everyone KNOWS Color Theory and it's awfully close to Blue.

Conclusion

This is an allegation, not a full scale proof she is one, but as I say

"Once is by chance. Twice is a coincidence. Three times is a pattern."

You don't wake up one day and decide to unironically make a Nazi OC, you don't decide to subconsciously make a character be obsessed with money, have a tattoo of Mammon (Symbolism of greed and also whose fat, considering OG Bible's Jewish then we can also count that as Anti-Semitism) and blantly say she's a chicken and you certainly DON'T just like a tweet calling most of the critical (Some are Jewish and Mentally ill) subhuman. You tried to save face by stating all those bad guys cease to exist but we all know that's false, now is it.

[sozzledjuja]

Mephisto & Praxina - A Relationship Analysis

Because part of me wishes that the twins' dynamic had been more explored in the show, while Mephisto was still "alive".

There are honestly so many scenes, especially in season 2, where you could feel the main underlying issues between them, but they were never actually adressed or explored.

Also, feel free to add your own thoughts, maybe stuff that I missed, or things you disagree with as well.

Let's start with this scene, from Cute As A Doll, which I'm surprised not more people are talking about:

So, Praxina gets hurt by Auriana's blast, and Mephisto immediately stops his chase for Iris to teleport next to his sister, to make sure she's alright.

Aaaaanddd- she yells at him for caring/worrying, telling him to just go after Iris.

LOOK AT HIS FACE BRO. Homeboy was truly worried, but then immediately gets back in the game.

It's easy to just look at the dismissive and "careless" way in which Praxina treats Mephisto most of the time, and rule her off as "heartless". However, this sentiment seems to also be present when HE tries to "connect" or worries about her.

We see this again in Forget You:

She sees attachments and emotions as a sign of weakness and vulnerability, and clearly doesn't allow herself to feel it and lashes out whenever her brother does.

This refusal to accept love and affection is usually born out of an inherent lack of trust in people. It comes from a place of fear. She seems to prefer to remain impartial and formal as much as possible, regardless of how much her brother (or anyone else, for the matter) wishes to get close to her.

When it comes to other people, I believe she simply doesn't trust that the gestures of affection are real/genuine.

Good!Praxina, in Forget You I believe, was less of a "possibly redeemed" Praxina and more of a "blank page" Praxina, as in, what she would've been like had none of the Gramorr or the other bad stuff happened.

Still, let's not forget that Good!Praxina still clearly had some concerning instincts, so some of her less pleasant characteristics like her destructive behavior, lack of empathy, difficulty accepting affection and praise, and connecting with people, were probably already there since the beggining.

Iris said it herself:

Remember, Good!Praxina still didn't like the idea of helping people when the girls first tried to teach her how to be a good person; Only AFTER being exposed to good influences did she actually begin to redirect her energy torwards "good" goals, and I think this proves that, in a different, more positive enviromnent, she would've definetly turned out differently.

But, alas- she didn't, so here I am, writing this big ass psychological assessment. Which is mostly her fault.

Also Mephisto clearly has some issues of his own when it comes to how his sister treats him (which, let's be honest, while I wouldn't call it abusive, she definetly isn't an easy person to care about).

Also the fact that she seems to think he's incapable of doing anything right definetly bothers him more than he lets on.

It's easy to laugh these moments off but there's definetly something much deeper going on.

Again

And again

And again. and this one was fucked up

And in many other times.

Oh- and the fact that she always blames him for everything. Which is another one of Praxina's biggest flaws: an inability to admit fault or take any sort of accountibility. Aaand shifting the blame.

Which he knows, and this is clearly something that he takes and takes, until he snaps.

This moment in If You Can't Beat Them was also really telling on how he actually feels about how his sister never actually shows any appreciation for his contributions, and seems to think he's weaker and less capable of reason as she is.

I genuinely do not know what goes through Praxina's brain to make her do this. I don't know wether she actually genuinely believes he's stupid and fucks everything up or not.

And Gramorr, although he doesn't outright show much preference for Praxina in spite of Mephisto, seems to share the sentiment, given that he appears to be slightly less patient/harsher towards him than his sister.

What I can say is that Praxina definetly believes that he is the weakest link between them (which might seem like it's true at first glance, but I wouldn't be so sure as to state it), which, given the previous statement, might also be a result of Gramorr himself thinking/saying it, since they've probably been training under his wing for quite a long time, which would make her (and Mephisto) easily influenced by his opinion, as an authority figure.

And he might pretend it doesn't effect him, but we all know that deep down it does, and that he's kinda insecure despite all his bravado.

I think Mephisto's always been more sensitive and more "emotionally-inclined" than his sister, even before Gramorr. I believe that both twins have the potential to be good, but Mephisto is definetly more "hardwired" for it than Praxina.

And we already know what she thinks about that: emotion=weakness.

And part of her wants to keep reminding him she's better too. The girl's got a big ego to stroke.

Mephisto also seems to have more morals than his sister.

We can see that throughout the show he's helped the princesses sometimes: Iris, with whom he teamed up with to save his sister in If You Can't Beat Them, in which he even told her he'd be honored to serve her as queen of Ephidea, had circunstances been different, which I truly believe he meant;

And Carissa, in Statue Game, who he ALSO teamed up with to save his sister, and who, let's not forget, he gave the other evil amulet back to, so that the princesses could reverse the spell that turned that human girl into stone.

And when Gramorr got the last gem, Mephisto seemed to actually be horrified by what was happenning.

He clearly wasn't totally fine with enslaving the entire planet.

Praxina, on the other hand, seemed pretty okay with it.

Ecstatic even.

She's relishing in what's happening, that's what she wants. To bend other to her will, to be feared rather than loved, to have power over others.

Maybe not what she needs, but what she WANTS.

Mephisto realizing that is GOLD from a storytelling prespective.

I feel like he looked at her in hopes she'd be as concerned as he was, that they were on the same page about the situation, only to find her- well, laughing. I joked about this being his "oh shit, these people are actually evil" moment, but I think part of him was only surprised with Praxina. Maybe he hadn't realized just how far this "lifestyle" had actually shaped his sister.

We know for sure that Mephisto has higher levels of empathy than Praxina. And common sense. This is why I always disagree when people say that Praxina is smarter than Mephisto. She might be more "logical" and "rational", but neither of those things equate to cleverness. Mephisto seems to be more astute and more intuitive.

Him starting to realize Gramorr was probably not gonna give them shit is a great example of this.

Which Praxina did NOT even think about. She was on a high, thinking about all the power they were gonna have now that Gramorr was free and back in action. Miss girl, you are delusional.

Honestly Praxina's fatal flaws deserve their own separate post.

Because let's be clear: I'm trying to debunk all of the twin's relationship issues, and everytime, it's clear who's actually responsible for everything going badly in the emotional realm.

I love her but she IS the problem. Not saying Mephisto is a poor innocent baby who never did anything wrong his whole life (I'm looking at you, lolirock fandom). He definetly has a lot of flaws and bad traits himself, but he's not the one to blame for anything regarding his and his sister's relationship.

To conclude,

THIS is normal sibling behaviour.

All the rest I showed above this SHOULD. NOT. BE.

This is not me saying they have a bad relationship, but I am saying that they don't have a fantastic one either.

Also, I blame dark magic too. The Team has confirmed it makes them more irritable, so there's that too.

They really care about each other, and I don't doubt that BOTH of them would do anything to keep the other safe. But they got lots of unspoken stuff to talk about.

And are both in desperate need of therapy

[steveharrington]

major hornets nest moment here but i must speak my truth. its so fascinating to me how will byers was clearly written with the driving motivation and intention of making him a beloved fan favorite character and instead he falls so flat that, if you asked the average casual viewer of the show who doesn't engage in the fandom like, say, your coworker, the odds of him even being in their top five of favorite characters is pretty low.

will's disappearance kicks off the plot, singlehandedly. the first episode is literally called the vanishing of will byers. his name is shouted so much in the first season that most people would recognize the reference if you used the right cadence and desperation that winona ryder does. after not being featured much in season one, you'd think season two would've just like launched will/noah schnapp into stardom with how much more screentime he's given and how dramatic his plot is that season. but instead the fan favorites of season 2 were by and large el, hopper, dustin, steve, max, even bob who's barely there. that's not to say that there AREN'T will fans out there (and online i understand there are like entire armies dedicated to him/byler, but i'm talking about the average opinion of viewers as a whole, not just in fandom spaces) but think about all the stranger things merch you see in stores, the halloween costumes, the characters that appear in promotional materials when the show has partnerships with brands....will is so rarely featured. idk if any of yall ever got the chance to visit the stranger things pop up shop in any of its various locations, but there was such little mention of will in the stores theming or merchandise that it was almost funny. actually it WAS funny, to me, someone who does not care for him

i think the flop can be attributed to many things. one, noah schnapp is just not a very good actor and he doesn't have the same appeal in his performances that millie, sadie, caleb, gaten, priah, or finn do (although finn i've noticed is also kinda falling out of favor from majority audiences). one could argue that noah schnapp intentionally isn't given much to do, which is true and i'll circle back to that, but the decline in his acting between seasons 2 and 3 is truly a sight to behold. when he's not like tied up and screaming, he reallllllly struggles on the smaller scale performances compared to the other cast members his age. he doesn't really have the charm that gaten does or the humor that priah does or the depth that caleb does. (i don’t feel bad about saying this, btw, given noah schnapp’s behavior)

back to the vanishing of will byer's screen time. my beloved prettymuchit's eric striffler commented on how diminished will and mike's roles in the story have become in s4. "noah schnapp is below the grips on the call sheet" is my fav line, but he also makes an observation on finn's role that i think is soooo accurate. when mike and will are kneeling down next to the pizza dough freezer and watching el just kinda twitch while she fights vecna in her mind, eric and his co-host miles say "this is so embarrassing! finn's like, 'oh so gaten's fighting the monster? and i'm kneeling next to a tub at a pizza place? i used to be this show" and i think the same exact sentiment can be superimposed onto will

but i think this happened naturally, as the nature of the show is to shift its focus from character to character. not to mention the duffer brothers' obsession with tweaking their story to give audiences what they want. i've always held the belief that there isn't one main character of stranger things, rather a rotating circle of characters depending on the season you're watching. season one is mike, season two is hopper, season three is el, season four is max imo. again that's a little subjective and arguments could be made to swap those a little, but overall i think those characters stories and point of views take center stage during each of their respective seasons. by season 3, the duffers wanted to kick things up to a larger scale. the UD is no longer targeting just will, it's targeting the entire town. this works because a THIRD season in a row where this one kid specifically gets possessed would just be bonkers, so they kinda had to let him take a backseat. i'm not sure why they didn't let will be more involved in the mystery-solving portion of season 3....to this day that decision baffles me, but what's done is done and the will that everyone watched in season 3 literally just kinda follows everyone around and gets a small little slice of a plotline about wanting things to go back to normal, but alas

it like totally worked, though. though there are MANY complaints commonly made about season 3, i've never heard anyone offline complain that there wasn't enough will byers. i think the group in s3 that had the most success like, commercially, would be scoops troop and then a bit farther back i think most audiences enjoyed hopper/joyce/murray's dynamic. i think if there had been a huge outcry in the minimizing of will's role, the duffers would've backpedaled immediately. they aim to please. they can't even commit to killing of a main character out of fear that audiences will lose interest if we permanently lose hopper or max, so they just do some creative writing that allows them to milk the emotional consequence of those characters deaths without actually writing them off. if audiences on a large scale demanded that will be center stage, he would be. but they dont!

final point: i think will gets fucked over by the duffers obsession with romance. in season one, two of will's strongest dynamics are with his mom and brother. which like, yeah. theyre his immediately family and he is 12. but in seasons 2 and 3, jonathan spent all his screen time with nancy and from 2-4, joyce has spent all her screen time either with hopper or in the pursuit of finding hopper. these characters are written together as a package deal, typically. it was refreshing and unexpected to see jonathan get a whole season with a friend of his very own and his siblings, but they barely took advantage of that. jonathan and will get ummmm one (1) scene to talk about their emotions in a fucking 20 hour season. it's hard for will to be a main character when he rarely gets to interact with the people that make up the other half of his main dynamics.

as for byler, im of the belief that it will not be endgame because i just don't think they're going to break up mike and el at this point. i could be completely wrong and stand corrected, but im like 90% sure lol. i do think that will's s4 storyline resonated with a lot of people. even eric striffler! i think the issue is that the vastttt majority of people who watch this show above the age of like 15 do not feel invested about the romantic relationships between any of the kids. because why would they!!! theyre literally in middle school for 3/4 of the show. you would be hard pressed to find a vocal will stan online who doesn't also dedicate 90% of their engagement with the show to byler. which makes sense, because most if not all of will's scenes revolve around mike to some degree. but according to neilsen, the majority of stranger things audience is consistently in the 18-49 age range season by season. its more likely for adult audiences to identify with adults (or characters who are narratively treated like adults, like steve and nancy) than with any of the kids. esp when the kid in question, despite being written as the focal point of the show, has less relevant plotlines, less interaction with other characters, and an actor who just doesn't deliver on charm the way his fellow younger costars do

[thethiefandtheairbender]

a few disclaimers before i get into this post:

I have not watched anything past the halfway point of JWCC S4, but I do have a general gist of the plot

I've watched the final s2 scene and a few of the flashback scenes / other scenes from JWCT and S4/S5 of JWCC

I was never a fan of Kenji/Brooklynn, and always preferred Brooklynn/Darius

So I may get things wrong / have missed other lines or opposing sentiments in canon — please feel free to correct me in the comments/replies!

That said, thinking about what I do know, story framing, and the themes it seems like they're setting up... I think it's very likely Darius/Brooklynn will be endgame, and here's why.

1) Having Darius be in love with her at all

This is the biggest one I think, but not perhaps for the reason you may think. For starters, this is noteworthy purely because it's not really 'necessary'. There were a lot of other paths to get to the same place, re: Darius not going to see Brooklynn when he said he would and subsequently feeling guilty about her death. He could've even just been busy (maybe something with the anniversary of his father's death) or even more reserved and upset over Brooklynn and Kenji being broken up, perhaps on Kenji's behalf.

Instead, they chose to have a main character state that he's in love with another main character, and that it's accordingly complicated/messy. However, in the current framing, Darius and Kenji's relationship had more of a fallout over Darius not being there than Darius being in love with Brooklynn being an issue. It's heavily impacted him as a character, but for the other two people in the 'triangle', less so (though we see more of Brooklynn's side of things in S2 of JWCT).

We also see from JWCT that Brooklynn does not, as Darius tells it, make it clear that she doesn't have feelings for him. She doesn't say that she doesn't like him, she doesn't even say no, nor does she let him have an easy out from his accidental confession. Instead she seeks to clarify and only fumbles when Darius asks if she feels the same for him, which is understandable given she's semi-recently (3-6 months?) gotten out of a long-term relationship with their mutual best friend.

B: Did you just say 'love'? D: Oh that? No, I mean, I love all my friends the same way. Well, not the same way, but e-equally. The same amount of love. Even if... the love is different. B: And is the love different with me? D: Maybe. But our friendship is too important to me, and Kenji's my best friend, so let's just forget about it. Unless... B: Darius, I just don't think... I'm not really ready for—

Which makes sense. In Brooklynn's head, she's had one relationship fail because of her drive/work, and getting into another one wouldn't be smart with that in mind. And again, she's left a 6 year long relationship, moving on is going to take time even just in terms of figuring how to be single as a person in their early 20s.

However, we know that Brook and Kenji had been broken up long enough, and she'd been staying with Darius long enough, for him to develop feelings.

D: But when she came to stay with me, things started to change.

And we also see more than once that Kenji thinks it's plausible that Brooklynn could've loved Darius in return:

K: So my best friend fell in love with my ex-girlfriend. Did she love you back?

There's also the way this is tethered directly to Darius' character arc. If his 'origin point' in JWCT is that he feels like he failed Brooklynn and blames himself for her death, routinely framed under the language of 'needing,' then that sets up a character arc where he comes through for her (even though he's let go of his self-blame about her death "I couldn't have changed what happened" in the s1 finale).

'Being there,' or rather not there, is also a crucial aspect of what led to Kenji and Brooklynn breaking up.

K: I can't be with you anymore if you're not going to be with me.

(Which, Kenji trying to show Brooklynn something beautiful with the caveat "it doesn't last long," and then they break up? Yeah.) And we see that Darius is committed to being there simply because he's called her, sometimes multiple times a day, for months.

Even down to it being ultimately his idea to get on the ship, and everyone else following his lead (Kenji most reluctantly of all), when getting on the ship and going in deeper is identified as

So Darius being there for Brooklynn is something that has to happen in the future, which does not seem to be a part of Kenji's arc, and also works in tandem with Brooklynn needing to let people in / help her (which Darius can also relate to, as they are both fiercely independent and "keep trying to do everything alone"). He's become the person she Needs, narratively, and that's a very hard thing to undo and one that lends itself well to the idea of a future romance.

2) Darius vs Kenji as partners

This is not to say that Brooklynn is a perfect partner, even before things got bad.

She decidedly wasn't for Kenji at least in in the final stages of their romantic relationship, but merely that we routinely see her put her faith in and seek out things from Darius that she never seeks out from Kenji or the rest of the group in the same matter, and they know it. (The fact that Darius' boss Ronnie is also the one who tends to her, and the only person at the point in-universe, to think there's something between the two, also stands out to me.)

For example, the biggest actual issue with Brooklynn being so distracted is that for months (years?) she refused to tell Kenji anything about what she was doing with Dark Jurassic:

For a multitude of her own personal reasons, she didn't trust him with it. That doesn't mean Darius and Kenji are never in the same boat — she faked her death and left both of them, alongside everyone else in the group, in the dark — but that Brooklynn was pretty clearly going to bring Darius into the fold in ways she was never going to do so with Kenji, previously. It's not as though Brooklynn's obsession with the possible smuggling was the healthiest thing in the world, either, but she is 1) an investigative reporter, and 2) that drive to Know things is what sent her to Camp Cretaceous in the first place. If she'd approached things as a team (like she was trying to do with Darius, albeit very belatedly and likely because it felt like she didn't have other options), it wouldn't have been so unhealthy. It was that she was so routinely distracted without really sharing how and why, and therefore not letting anyone help pace her or help her at all, that was the problem.

In a lot of ways then, it's not so much "who's the better partner for her between Darius and Kenji" (though there is some of that), as much as it is "Which one does Brooklynn treat like a partner," and uh... I'd say Darius; her coming and crashing at his place semi long term immediately after her breakup only lends to this, tbh.

Speaking of which, next to the framing of it within Darius' plotline, this is the 2nd most 'damning' piece of evidence to me that they're, at the very least, not going back to Brooklynn/Kenji:

Identity theme

Initially pinged by the S2 trailer's big line of "I'm not the same Brooklynn you knew," it was clear that they were going to explore Brooklynn going on a tumultuous series of changes (possibly reflected by a change in hairstyle) and the idea that she no longer fits / belongs with her old life and her old friends.

This idea of "I'm not who I was / you're not who I thought so we can't be together" is not a new idea in terms of Brooklynn and Kenji falling apart, as we see it in S5 quite prominently:

They, of course, come back from that, as Kenji chooses Darius / the group over his father, and swears to never abandon them again. Nor does he abandon Brooklynn in breaking up with her, even if it leads to a much larger distance between them, with neither being physically or emotionally present with one another. It can be easy to chalk up Brooklynn's sentiment here, then, as being similar:

They can leave without her, because the Brooklynn (the 'you') is one she thinks no longer exists. As Brooklynn immediately follows up with, "I have a job to finish," showing that her determination and willingness to do anything to expose the smuggling ring is the 'one thing' that has stayed intact from Before everything went down (pre-breakup and fallout, etc). She also still gives the team Bumpy's egg, showing that she won't actually fully forsake them and that she does still care.

And, in some ways, I think Brooklynn is sort of right. The person they all deeply new is not who she is; she has become someone new because of her experiences, her loneliness, and trauma. She can't go back to being the old Brooklynn who hadn't lost an arm or cut her hair or hadn't faked her death.

This is pretty similar to what Darius worries in S5, after all:

B: Trust me, Kenji is the one who lost his way, not you. D: What if I'm changing? All the "life or death" situations, the choices between this bad thing or that even worse thing, it's turning me into someone I don't know. Someone I might not like. B: You know why we all look to you? Because your light burns bright, Darius Bowman. No amount of terrible choices can put it out. And I'll follow you anywhere.

So at Darius' biggest moment of doubt, Brooklynn affirms that she knows and sees the real him underneath the terrible choices he's made or their even worse circumstances, and that she sees him as the hero he is, and one that she'll follow. We also know throughout both shows that Darius thinks highly of Brooklynn ("Darius thinks the world of you!"); this doesn't mean idolization or idealization for either of them, but that what might be flaws for other people is not for each other. The scene where they discuss what happened with the breakup is not Brooklynn being entirely fair to Kenji, nor is Darius' tale of what happened ("She was really sorry, for not paying attention, for not appreciating all of this") since it was never discussed in that way. Instead, Brooklyn states that Kenji:

Brooklynn will possibly have an arc where she puts her friends above her mission, much like Kenji had to put his friends above his father. The push and pull of whether friends or dinosaurs' safety is worth more has been a frequent issue, with S3 and S5 notably making it clear that Brooklynn and Darius will both put dinosaurs first, and Kenji won't. This continued into JWCT for Brooklynn as well. I don't think her solution is to not be as obsessive but to allow others in on helping her. She's not being entirely fair to Kenji in her assessment of why they broke up, but the fact she tethers it to identity, something she is wrestling with all the more in S2...

If you feel on a fundamental level that your partner wants you to be someone other than who you are, it is extremely hard to come back from that. The fact that Brooklynn doesn't feel ready to face her friends because of how changed she is, and facing their potential reactions, reflects this uncertainty that she might be someone they don't recognize or no longer love. (Cue literally looking at her own changed reflection and citing what she had said to Darius: "I'm not really ready for...")

This uncertainty has made Brooklynn into someone who runs. She runs away from her friends, she runs away from her feelings, because she's not ready for potentially drastic changes. Therefore in order to grow, she has to trust Darius to be there for her again, he has to make a different choice... they're not the same as they were, maybe, but that doesn't mean they're totally different, or that she's a Brooklynn that he no longer loves.

The way she says "I'm not the same Brooklynn you knew" is also framed as being to the group, yes, but with a specific emphasis on Darius. I'm not the Brooklynn you think is so dedicated and wonderful, tackled onto I'm not the Brooklynn you'd do anything for, because you didn't.

They both have to meet in the middle in order to grow characters; Darius has to affirm that his devotion and love/loyalty for her is unchanged, and Brooklynn has to accept that she can still be a Brooklynn he's in love with, someone who's dedicated and wonderful and accepts his help.

Everyone over and over has reiterated that she needed him. It's not surprising, therefore, if the series decides to go with a romance, and say that she still does.

[roi-des-aulnes]

OK, a little disorganised rant below but I had to get it out of my system :

I hated season 4. We had to suffer a whole year of messy plot lines, the characters pulled in too many directions and still doing fuck all because they keep having the same sentimental (and sometimes, frankly corny) conversation over and over again. And the side characters were disappointing. I saw the positive reactions to the Butcher, Noel and Oscar, and I understand. It was refreshing to have other human beings that were going to be more fleshed out than #Dead Body n°3 or # Mad Old Woman n°273849. But that didn't really happen in the end. The butcher felt like a caricature of a villain in a CW tv show, and don't get me started on his "redemption". The finale episodes were just. Bad. I was audibly sighing with annoyance during the big fight between John and Yellow which was way too cliché. The big Larson machine thing went nowhere, and I feel like the Kayne scene was just a lazy solution for getting rid of all the loose ends all at once because HG felt stuck at that point and didn't know how to end the arc.

Anyway. All of this just to say, I felt like season 5 was a good opportunity to shake things up by changing the setting, giving Jarthur completely new challenges, maybe it would let them explore that new aspect of their relationship they talked about in the first episode, idk. Instead we got a John recap episode, whatever the fuck Malam was, the useless Horig disease, the Agatha Christie medieval plot ... when Everard introduced Alia, Antoine and Vale, i remember thinking "why are we losing time on this, they'll most likely be dead and discarded soon".

What's worse is that it's getting more and more difficult to remember that John is more than a disembodied voice narrating whatever is happening. Occasionally he says "yes Arthur !" or "careful Arthur" but that's about it. OK then. I thought he wanted to stop feeling like a voice trapped in another man's body. Didn't they discuss it at length before ?

Oh and I don't care about Lillith. I've tried, but maybe it would have been easier to make her more interesting if her and Scratch were different characters? Idk. They beat Scratch once they can do it again + Arthur Just Doesn't Die so why should we care ? As far as I can see she's not a threat, just a nuisance.

And I'm not even gonna talk about the Faroe thing but that's yet another one of my main problems with this podcast lately. Basically, throughout the show I went from "aww no poor him he has a dead daughter :(" to "oh of course he's still grieving" and eventually to "OK can he maybe let her die for real actually ? Instead of waving her dead body around every time Arthur is inconvenienced so he can cry about it?"

What's maddening to me is that there is still potential. The sound design is great, I loved the eerie music in the forest episode. And I can see that HG has ideas, or pieces of ideas at least. There are characters that you want to get invested into. But I feel that the main character is getting less and less compatible with them, and so most of those ideas end up botched and lesser versions of what could have been.

[cakepoppresent]

A little backstory and transcript below~

So when Luna said, "Oh my god! Did you know she was the one who I met in the summer? She convinced me to talk to that dude". She was referring to when she met Asuka during her stay at Brindleton Bay for the summer. Luna had a fight with Daisuke about his lack of intimacy and they weren't talking when she left. At the same time, Asuka looked into Luna and found out where she was staying and went to Brindleton Bay to "scope out" the women that Daisuke was seeing. They met and Luna shared that she's not seeing Daisuke at that moment. Asuka convinced her that if she wanted to see if Daisuke really cared she should flirt with other men and post it on her social media for him to see It ended up all over the tabloids and they got into another argument and Daisuke drove down to Brindleton to set the record start. This is where he shared that he is a Demisexual and he has had some issues in the past with women and their expectations of him sexually and how he couldn't meet up to their standards so it left him a little worried about Luna's reaction. They made up in the end! If you want you can read it Here! and it ends Here! (7 Chapters)

Luna: Can’t get over how beautiful Mt. Komorebi is

Luna: All this land belongs to your family?

Daisuke: Yes, It’s been in my family for generations. We can go on a tour later

Luna: I would love that. It looks gorgeous!

Daisuke: It’s especially gorgeous during the winter season

Luna: I’m excited~

Luna: All this for me?

Daisuke: Would have been more extravagant but I didn’t want my mother to scare you

Luna: All this is going to go to my head

Daisuke: That will be fine

Luna: Ha! Remember you said that~

Daisuke: I will

Daisuke: If anyone steps out of line feel free to use River or Tadashi. You don’t need to put up with anything

Luna: You’re making it seem like I’m going to be attacked. Any scorned lovers that will be going for my throat?

Daisuke: They know better.

Luna: How long is the line of scorned women?

Daisuke: There is no line. Don’t be nervous.

Luna: I’m not nervous anymore. We’re going to have a great time

Daisuke: Hmm...That’s right

Asuka: Oh my! Look at him! Don’t they looks so cute together?

Masatomo: I didn’t think he’d bring the actress home

Asuka: She’s a Villarreal and of better substance than that Sohma girl

Masatomo: This will cause more harm than good Asuka and you know that

Asuka: I’ve already set my heart on Miss. Luna being my daughter-in-law. I refuse to be associated with the Sohma family

Masatomo: It was the better option

Asuka: I don’t care, my son’s happiness is more important. Make sure you keep those sentiments to yourself~

Luna: Oh! That’s your mother?!

Daisuke: Yes.

Luna: Oh my god! Did you know she was the one who I met in the summer? She convinced me to talk to that dude

Daisuke: I’m aware

Luna: Are you the reason why she disappeared?

Daisuke: Partially. She had overstayed her vacation

Asuka: Luna Dear! I’ve missed you! Its been too long!

Luna: Asuka! You disappeared on me! I can’t believe you’re Daisukes mother!

Asuka: I couldn’t let that silly boy loose a women like you. Like I said some men just need a little guidance

Luna: It’s good to see you again!!

Masatomo: We need to talk

Daisuke: Alright

Luna: Let me introduce you to my twin brother, Malcolm! Daisuke asked him to join I hope thats no problem

Asuka: Its no problem sweetie! The more the merrier! Come in from the cold! I’ll show you where you’ll be staying! Let Daisuke and father have their little meeting, we have a lot to catch up on!

Malcolm:...Hello...

*In Masatomo office*

Masatomo: Are you sure you want to go down this path with Miss. Villareal?

Daisuke: Yes.

Masatomo: The Shoma family is demanding answers. They were under the impression that their daughter's expulsion was temporary. That her spot would remain open

Daisuke: That was never a possibility.

Masatomo: You need to clean up this mess you’ve caused. We have too many people waiting for the Main Branch to fail to fumble now

Daisuke: I understand.

Masatomo: Do you? If you did there wouldn’t be a Villareal in my house.

Daisuke: I told you I have it under control.

Masatomo: I hope so and do something about your cousin, why bring him back if he can’t be of use

Daisuke: Leave him to me

[elix8r]

Monkey Bars (sjy) - Teaser

PAIRING: jake sim x fem!reader

GENRES: smut, fluff, crack, college au, frat au, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, maybe the slightest bit of angst?

TEASER WC: 0.35k once again i have no clue how long this is going to be but from what i feel rn it’s gonna be another long one and it’s also going alot slower than pink whitney rip ૮₍•᷄ ࡇ •᷅₎ა

SUMMARY:  Jake Sim was like the epitome of the perfect fourth-grade boyfriend. He had it all – being a year older automatically put him on the cool list (which in turn also boosted your popularity), genuinely kind, and very cute. But then, the earth-shattering truth that he was a two-timing cheater hit you like a ton of bricks. You caught him red-handed, holding another girl's hand and it devastated you beyond measure. So of course, in your nine-year-old mind, there was only one deserving punishment – a forceful push off the monkey bars during recess, resulting in a broken arm. 

And so, the battle lines were drawn. You and Jake became sworn enemies, a feud that carried on even into college. You saw him as a total fuckboy who always knew how to get under your skin, while he saw you as a snobby bitch who thought she was better than everyone else. But fate, in its twisted sense of humor, had other plans. Out of a class brimming with a hundred other possibilities, it was Jake who ended up being your assigned partner. 

Clearly, the world had favorites and you weren’t on that list.

THE FRAT DIARIES MASTERLIST

As Waka Flocka's "No Hands" reverberated through the pulsating house, your body instinctively moved to the infectious rhythm, the alcohol adding to the blissful sway. Suddenly, a strong arm snaked around your shoulders, and the intoxicating scent of cologne filled your senses. Your body melded snugly with theirs before they leaned in, whispering into your ear.

"What's your name?" His voice jolted you, instantly recognizable and sobering. Slowly, you turned your head to face him.

Jake fucking Sim. 

Out of all the people in the world, of course, it was him. The realization seemed to mirror his own sentiment, evident from the annoyance etched across his face. Disgusted, you pushed him away, eager to distance yourself from his unwanted proximity.

"Oh, fuck no. Fuck off," you shot him a withering look, brushing at your shoulders as if trying to wipe away any remnants of his presence.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" His question only served to reinforce your belief in his sheer stupidity. You rolled your eyes, mustering up the patience to respond.

"Really, Jake? Why do you think you dumbass?" The realization hit you that Epsilon Nu was the frat Jake belonged to, instantly eroding any remaining respect you might have had for the house.

"No way you got a bid from AES," he exclaimed incredulously, disbelief radiating from his eyes. "Only hot and cool girls go AES, and obviously, you're neither."

"You've clearly become even dumber since high school 'cause it seems like you've forgotten that I'm a triple legacy," you emphasized, feeling your blood pressure rise with every passing second of the encounter.

"Whatever, get away from me," he retorted, his face still contorted with disdain, prompting a scoff to escape your lips.

"You're the one who came over to me, you asshole." With that, the two of you abruptly turned away from each other, stomping off in opposite directions, each eager to put distance between yourselves. The excitement and joy that had previously filled bid day were now replaced by a sour mood.

Leave it to Jake to ruin everything.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jake is so mean in this story but i love him sm like it’s so fun to write when both your main characters are assholes lmao it adds spice like this is already such a different vibe than pink whitney despite being in the same universe but i love it (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) 

[13as07]

Motherhood #1

(Kakashi Hatake)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to Garajiru]

Requested by: Myself

Keys:

None

[Idea inspired by Criminal Minds - Garcia and Derek; Season 8, Episode 11]

Word Count: 3,979

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

None

———————————————————————

My whole body aches as I walk across the grassy field of the Third Training Ground. I'll never understand why Kakashi insists on training so far away from the main parts of the village. Well... I do understand. Despite how he comes off, he is a very sentimental person.

Pain sizzles across my rib cages, a side effect from littered stitches across my skin. I'm never going to hear the end of it when Kakashi finds out.

I should wait until he's done training with his students. I know he's a personal guy and I get it, especially with our line of work, but I want to see him. The burning need for him has been clawing at my heart for the past week. That burning only grew once the stab wounds registered in my head, and somehow became even heavier as needles were being threaded through me to close my wounds. He's going to be pissy or at least off his game when I find him, but that's okay. I know he'll smooth himself out.

As if the universe wants to apologize, a mix of 'why's', groans, and 'Sensei!'s fill the meadow. I can feel a smile perk up at the sounds.

I've heard a lot about my husband's little genins; Sasuke the Uchiha boy who shows great potential if he could get over his attitude, Naruto the chakra-packed spaz-ball who dreams of being Hokage, and Sakara the kunoichi with impressive chakra control who's just a little too distracted by Sasuke.

My smile only grows as the big blob of my husband and his three little blobs fall into my sight. The yellow and orange blob - I think that one is Naruto - is bobbing up and down. What a cute little jumping bean; well jumping blob.

Despite the burning across my sides, I hurry up my pace to get to Kakashi faster.

Once I can make out the details of my dotting husband, the burning in my heart starts cooling off. God, I miss him so much when we're apart. The seemingly unreachable retirement in our future sounds so good right now.

"Calm down, guys. It's just a progress exercise," Kashi's voice rings out, paired with the soft clinking of the bells wrapped around his belt loop. Before I left he mentioned redoing the bell test with his genins to check how they've improved. I guess today is the day.

"Oh, come on Kakashi-Sensei! Do you have to? We all know I'm already the best, do you really have to double-check it?" Blondie whines as he messes with his headband. That is definitely the spaz-ball.

"Being less sucky than Sakura doesn't make you the best," the raven-haired boy mumbles, arms crossed over his chest as he glares at Naruto.

Sasuke's eyes catch me for a second before he glances at his Sensei for guidance. Said Sensei hasn't caught wind of me yet, curtsy of his back being turned towards me with his students facing the both of us.

Sakura's face sinks at her crush's words before a closed-eyes smile crosses her face. "I think it'll be fun to do the bell exercise again, Sensei!" When her eyes snap open, they catch on me too, just like the Uchiha did a second ago. Unlike the boy though, her face scrunches up as she stays focused on me. "Sensei-"

I jump forward, arms wrapping around my husband. I immediately regret it when my stitches come into rough contact with Kakashi's vest. A pain-filled whine slips out as I bury my head between his shoulder blades. "That hurt," I whine again, softly digging my fingertips into his stomach.

"Then maybe don't do that," Kash teases, his smile slipping through his words.

My head lifts before falling back down, softly headbutting his back. "Don't be mean."

A soft chuckle fills the air, spilling out from my husband. The sound fills me with warm, the good love-filled kind instead of the longing kind of heat. "My little crybaby," he mumbles, shifting in my hold so my head is against his chest instead of his back. "Why are you being such a crybaby?"

"I'm not being a crybaby," I bite back but it comes out as a pout instead of the strong 'don't fuck with me' attitude I was trying to have.

"Aww, now you're being pouty," he continues to tease as his hands slide under my shirt.

Despite his teasing tone, everything else about Kakashi is serious. His hands are soft and nimble as he rubs them over my skin, checking for new wounds from my mission. His eye repeatedly scanning me, looking for obvious wounds and any sign of real distress.

"I might have had a not-so-perfect mission," I mumble, glancing behind him at his students. They're all looking at each other in confusion, hushed whispers - and Naruto's failing attempt at being quiet - being passed between them.

     "What does that mean?" Kashi asks, his fingers light as he comes into contact with my wrappings.

     It's taken some practice, but I can see the small cracks in his calm composure. His eyebrows are ever so slightly pushed forward, jaw locked almost unnoticeably under his mask, eye slightly wider than normal, and a drop of worry hidden in his words. From an outsider, he'd look as calm as ever, but not to me. I can see the storm brewing under it.

     "I was stabbed a couple of times but it's not that big of the deal. No casualties and my squad came out less harmed than me, so over all a good mission."

     Another slip of composer; his fingers stiffing a bit as he dips them under the bandages. "I can't believe you were stabbed," he whispers, face inching closer to me so I can pick up on the soft volume.

     I feel bad about not being able to wait to see him. I know it's difficult for him to keep his composure when I'm hurt, and even more difficult when we're around people because he's worried his composure will slip.

     "I got stabbed in my vest," I mumble back, wrapping my hands slightly around his arms before I stand up a bit straighter. I use the extra height to nuzzle myself against his cheek. "It's just a couple of stitches, I'm okay."

     "Why don't they make better vests?" Kash mumbles to himself more than me, his focus on his hands as if he could see them through my shirt.

     His breath has picked up too, fingers not so light as they cling to my wrappings. My poor anxiety-filled husband is getting into his head way too much. "They're not stabproof. It's like when your watch gets wet and stops working. That's water resistant not waterproof. They need to make our vests knife-proof. They should-"

     "I... am... fine..." I breathe out, following each word with a kiss. First to his reviled eye, then to his cheek at the edge of his mask, and lastly, a light one against his masked lips.

     "I know but-"

     My hands dip further down his arms, tugging my shirt up gently so the edge of my bandages is exposed. "See? I'm fine?" I tease a bit, dipping my head behind his ear before pressing another soft kiss into him.

     When I fall back into place, Kakashi's eye is dancing over the edge of my wrap, fingers lightly dancing over my skin again. A barely visible pink pokes out from his mask. My partner might be a very composed man, but he's still a man. One that falls victim to the shaping of my waist, especially when it's empathized by a skirt or crop top; or bandages in this case.

     "It's just a couple of stitches," I repeat before dropping my hands back to my sides, my shirt following pursuit.

     "How... how, um..." Kakashi's flustered state is adorable, the pink getting deeper and his eye still locked in please even though his favorite sight is gone. "How long do you need to be taped up like this?"

     "I don't know. A couple of days maybe," I answer, letting my own eyes wander over him. I'm as pleased to look over Kashi's body as he is to look over mine; though his v-line is my favorite part.  A soft hum comes from him, his body going back to his actual calmness instead of his fake composure. "You relaxed now?" I tease, pulling away from his touch.

     "Ya, I'm relaxed now," he husks out, stepping forward in a slow attempt to chase me.

     "Sensei!" All three of his students call, pulling my husband back down to Earth.

     I think he missed me as much as I missed him. The thought makes me happy, tugging another small smirk to my face.

     "Students!" He calls, eye going wide as he looks at me. Perhaps Kakashi doesn't want me around his students because I'm too much of a distraction. Oh well, one day of distraction won't hurt. "Students," he repeats, turning away from me to face the children he's responsible for.

     "Sensei, who's the cute lady?" Naruto asks, his eyes wide as well as he looks over me.

     "Um..."

     "You can call me Mrs. Hatake!" I chirp out, sidestepping Kashi so his students can see me better.

     "She's not even that good-looking," the little emo boy says, rolling his eyes at Naruto's compliment.

     "And you're not as badass as you think you are," I respond, tone still chirpy as I smile at the Uchiha.

     "Maybe let's not insult Sensei's girlfriend," Sakura pipes in, sending a glare at her heartthrob.

     "Wife," Kakashi corrects, a small smile on his face. My heart jumps a bit at the word. I don't think I'll ever get used to him calling me his wife.

     "Wife?!" They all call out, surprise on their face as they look at me.

     "Wife," Kashi repeats, tugging his glove off his left hand before grabbing at mine. He holds up our hands, showing off our matching wedding bands to his students.

     The bands are basic but cute; black with blue lightening strips through them. Gai teases that Kakashi had them made this way to mimic his Chidori as a fail-proof claim to me. I don't mind the teasing, I find it adorable that Kashi wants people to know for certain that he's my husband. What better way to do that than marking me with his personal ninjutsu?

     "You... are married to someone like that?" His kunoichi asks, face scrunched up in disbelief.

     "Is that supposed to be an insult, Sakura?" Kash asks, his face still covered in a smile as he wiggles his glove back on.

     "No, you're just so..." she makes another face, causing a laugh to brew in my chest. "And she's so pretty."

     "You're pretty too, Sakura. I like the color of your hair," I answer, sending the kid a compliment back. Her face shifts to a smile instead of the previous face of disbelief. Good, I'm making a good impression on my husband's students.

     "You know Sakura's name?!" Naruto asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

     I hum a yes, turning my attention to him. "I know your name too, Naruto, and I know Mr Moody over there is Sasuke."

     Naruto - somehow - beams even more with happiness, and Sasuke's face scrunches in disapproval. "How do you know our names?" The ball of chakra asks, his in-place bouncing shifting to actual bouncing.

     "Because she's a jounin, duh. Do you ever use your head Naruto?" Mr Moody asks, paired with another eye roll.

     "Actually, I'm just a chunin. I'm not as skilled as your Sensei," I correct, sending Naruto a soft smile of reassurance.

     "Like a C-level chunin or a B-level chunin?" Sasuke asks, his attention finally caught.

     "Usually B-leveled but I do take C-level missions on occasion."

     "You just got back from a mission, ya?" He asks, body language opening up some. I'm three for three in the student department. That is a solid win.

     "Yes, I did. Maybe we can talk about it over some food, hm?" I gently push, sending Kakashi a sheepish smile. I know he's going to give me what I want; he always does, but I should have asked him privately before bringing it up to his students.

     On the other hand, Kakashi is out of his groove so I'm sure his students are out of a training mindset as well. Some food would help set them back on track, maybe. Probably not, but I want to get to know his students a little more. After all, they're a big part of his life, which makes them a big part of my life.

"Really?! Can we, Sensei? Can we? Can we? Can we?" Naruto cheers, running circles around Kash as he pleads.

"Alright, alright!" He calls, stopping Naruto in his tracks. "We can take a small break and go eat at Ramen Ichiraku, but as soon as we're done eating we are doing the bell test. Y/N can't wiggle you guys out of that," Kashi answers, sending me a warning look, telling me to not even try to stop their testing again after we eat.

"Yes!" Naruto cheers, darting in the direction of the village's main road.

Sasuke rolls his eyes again but follows after his squad mate, his pace notably slower than Naruto's. Sakura follows suit, trying her best to get Sasuke to promise to sit next to her. He is having none of it though, at least not until Naruto offers to sit next to her. Then he seems a little more interested in the offer. The little Uchiha boy takes after his Sensei more than he knows.

—————————————

"That sounds so cool," Naruto yells around a mouth full of noodles. I'll have to send Iruka a passing comment about his kid's lack of table manners. Despite that, Naruto is still adorable and the cutest little fuzz-ball I've ever met.

"Didn't feel cool when I was getting stitched up," I reply a small chuckle following my words.

"If you can take the cut, you can take the stitch," Kakashi teases despite the tighter grip he has on my hand under the table. Mr. Play-It-Cool isn't as laid back as he's pretending.

     "What about you guys? You just got back from the Village hidden in the Mist, ya?" I push gently, trying to change the subject. I can almost hear the 'thank you' brewing in my husband's throat, even if he'd never voice it. The relaxed fingers tangled in mine are enough of an approval. "That must have been fun."

     "It was alright," Sasuke mumbles, chopsticks messing with his noodles. Little Moody isn't as good at playing off his emotions as his Sensei.

     "You got your second tomoe, right?" I try again, turning my focus to Sasuke. He's a closed-off one, just like Kakashi... and his brother.

     The Uchahi's eyes go a bit wide before his full attention is on me. "Um... ya, I guess."

     "You guess? I feel like that's something you would know."

     "I did, ya," he mumbles before turning his attention back to his bowl.

     "Well, that's quite the accomplishment. Your father would be proud."

     I should not have said that. Sasuke's grip on his chopsticks tightens, head snaps back up, glare directed at me, as he pushes himself to his feet. The stool he was standing on clinks to the ground, making Sakura jump. It would be a cute scene if the Uchahi didn't have murder in his eyes.

"And what do you know about my father? Nothing. Just like you know nothing about me, so stop trying to be a mother hen. I don't need you to be one, neither does Naruto or Sakura, so knock it off. And while you're at it stop pretending you know anything about the sharingan too, cause you don't."

     A soft smile sits on my face as I look over Sasuke. He reminds me so much of Kakashi, right down to the similar anger they have. The only difference is I managed to get Kashi to process his anger for the death of his loved ones.

     "Are you done?" I ask gently, ignoring the feeling of Kakashi repeatedly squeezing my hand under the table. That, and the stare he's burning into me.

     "Yes," the Uchiha hisses out, eyes squinting in anger.

     "Well, first, information on anything - sharingan included - is available at the library. Second, your Sensei has a sharingan so I know a good deal about it. Third, there's a difference between me wanting to get to know you and me wanting to mother you. Fourth, I did meet your father quite a few times before his death so I can say for certain that you were one of his pride and joys."

     "Oh," is the only answer I get back, but I don't mind since it seems my speech worked. Sasuke is still a bit on edge but his body language relaxes a bit before he picks his stool back up. I'll count that as a win. What a little spitfire.

The feeling of Kakashi's hold on my hand tightens again, pulling me out of the situation. I turn my attention to him, being met with a soft masked smile. Flowers of love blossom in my chest at the sight. God I love this man, and our little make-shift family. Maybe Sasuke is right, maybe I am accidentally trying to mother my husband's students.

—————————————

"Hatake!" A voice rings out, pulling my attention away from Gai. I've spent the day helping him train his students, aka being an example dummy for new taijutsus he wants to show his genins. It's not all bad, he promised me dinner to "ease my bruises".

"Yes?" I call back, glancing at Gai and his students before turning towards the noise.

Gai's mini-me - Lee - is beaming with joy as he races past me. "If it isn't my greatest competitor for Sakura's heart!" He yells, falling back into his defensive pose. I swear this new generation of Shinobis is just packed full of energy.

     Sasuke makes a face at Lee before turning his attention to me. "Sensei wants you," he murmurs before turning in his heels.

I shoot Gai an apologetic smile before heading off after the Uchahi. It's funny watching him trying to stay a step or two ahead of me. Given, that it doesn't last long, him falling back to a normal pace.

Most of the walk is uneventful, nothing more than silence and eye daggers being thrown at me. "I don't like you," Sasuke finally says once we get to the outer fields of the village.

"Well, I don't like you either," I shoot back, trying to keep the smile off my mouth.

Once again Sasuke makes a face, this time in surprise instead of disgust like earlier. "You can't say that to me."

"And yet, I did," I answer, letting the smirk settle on my face.

"You have an attitude problem."

"I'm copying you, so maybe you have an attitude problem."

Another face, this time leaving him as the spitting image of his mother. It's always surprised me how much Sasuke looks like his mom. Will Kashi and my child look that much like me? Or take after their father? I hope they at least get their father's Shinobi skills. Though, children can't be something I think of right now. Kakashi has his hands full as is.

     Once again silence falls between the genin and I, but this time it's a comfortable silence instead of the anger brewing one from before. As we walk, Sasuke occasionally bumps into me, his nose scrunching up each time followed by a couple of side steps away from me. Despite his efforts, the little Uchahi keeps hovering back to my side and continues to bump into me. It's good to know under all the brewing, Sasuke is still a child.

     "Look!" Naruto's voice echoes across the empty field, his blob coming into view again. "Lady Hatake!" He screams, dragging out my Clan name as he races across the field, Sakura in tow but she's screaming for Sasuke instead of me.

     "Naruto!" I call back, bracing myself for impact. Despite my preparation, I still end up taking a step or two back when Naruto's body collides with mine. His limbs stab into me in a few different places, bones colliding against my own along with my stitches. I suck in the hiss of pain trying to slide out as I hold on to the small boy.

     "Naruto," Sasuke hisses out, dagger eyes back on his face. "Be careful. Hatake is still hurt, dumbie." An eye roll is paired with the end of his sentence, along with a disappointed tongue click.

     "Oh, right. Sorry Lady Hatake."

     "It's all right," I hum, straightening the boy before letting him go. "What are you guys working on?"

     "Chakra control! Which I'm doing awesome at, by the way," Sakura answers, a proud smile across her face. I can't help but smile too at how proud she is of herself. My husband does have some good genins.

     "Hello," Kakashi's voice rings out, pulling my attention away from his students, but not for long.

     "Nah-uh! You get her all to yourself all the time Sensei, wait your turn!" Naruto barks, a sorry attempt at a glare on his face. "Guess what Lady Hatake!"

     "What?" I ask, glancing down at the chakra ball before looking back at my husband. He's beaming - well beaming as much as he lets himself outside of the safety of our house.

     "I tried a new ramen last night!"

     "Oh ya?" My empty question is followed by a twenty-minute conversation about some spicy ramen Naruto tried. It's also filled with Sakura reminding him that he's stupid and Sasuke's disapproval being openly shared.

     "Okay, that's enough about your dinner, Naruto," Kashi pipes up, cutting Naruto off. "You can have her back in a minute. Go... see who can hang upside longest." He mumbles, shrugging towards the tree a couple of feet away.

     "It's totally going to be me," Naruto cheers, running off towards the tree.

     "No way I'm going to let you beat me!" Sasuke yells, dashing after his squad mate, Sakura hot on his heels.

     The thought of children crawls back into my head. I already adore Kash's students, I can only imagine how much I'd adore our children.

     "Hey, Kash-"

     "Love-"

     Silence follows our accidental overlap, before being chased away by both of us chuckling. "What were you going to say?" I ask, soaking in my husband's appearance. No matter how many times or how long I look at him, Kakashi is always the most handsome man in the world.

"I think we should go to dinner tonight," he answers, glancing at his students. As ordered, all three are hanging upside down like bats. Though, Sakura looks tired so the competition will probably end up being between the boys.

"Why's that?" I ask my attention also on the genins. My chest bubbles with joy as I watch the boys try to tug each other off the branches.

"I want to talk about having a baby."

"What?" The word is torn from my lungs as my head flips back to Kakashi.

He's stood there, arms crossed and a faint smile under his mask. "I want to have a baby." He repeats, my head spinning a bit. Maybe he's more prepared for a child than I thought.

"Kash-" I start again, but end up getting cut off for the second time today.

"Naruto is cheating!" Sakura yells, waving her hands around to try and get Kakashi's attention.

     "I'll see you tonight. Naruto! Knock it off!" My eyes trail after him as I watch his path toward his students. The idea of motherhood seemed so lovely a second ago, but now? It's terrifying.

———————————————————————

[jinnie-ret]

Hey can I request a fluffy comfort gif where y/n has period cramps and stays to work from home and is kind of in a bad mood so when Hyunjin comes home early from (idk doing Versace ambassador stuff lol) and he tells her he isn’t feeling well and he’s got a stomachache too, she gets annoyed and thinks he’s just teasing. But later on she realizes he’s actually sick and being serious and she feels bad and takes care of him 🎀🤭

under the weather

hyunjin x reader

gif imagine

genre: fluff, teeny tiny angst

content warnings: none

summary: you think hyunjin is teasing you as normal when you're on your period, but turns out he's not feeling too great himself.

My first gif imagine! Hope you enjoy!

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

HYUNJIN'S MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

You were used to his teasing, even when you were in a bad mood like this. Cramps, a raging headache and not enough food to satiate your cravings. Of course he always made sure you were okay too, which was why you were surprised by his quiet mood, especially since he has just come back from his recent Versace trip. You had seen plenty of posts on social media and it made you miss him even more. Why wasn't he his normal excited self?

"Hi love, I missed you," you clung onto him as he entered your apartment, looking more tired than usual.

"Mmm, yeha, missed you too," Hyunjin sighed as he walked in, automatically collapsing on the sofa.

"Wow, what a great welcome back," you roll your eyes, unable to help your bad mood from returning as you sat next to him.

"Sorry, I did miss you, I saw your texts as well, I know you've not been feeling great," he sat up slowly, stroking your hair.

"Cramps have been extra bad," you groan, leaning into him.

"I know how you feel," he groaned, leaning against you, staring off at the wall after taking a glance at you.

"Don't tease this time, they've actually been so bad," you playfully whack his stomach, but he hunches over and groans.

"Stop messing around, Jinnie," you whine.

"I'm not, got such a bad stomachache, must have been bad plane food," he hunched over again.

That's when you realise he wasn't joking around this time, it should have been obvious from his mood, you thought.

"Oh, love, I'm sorry I thought you were messing," you sighed, sitting up and wrapping an arm around him and rubbing soothing circles into his back.

"No, not this time darling," he groaned again.

"Let me get you what normally helps me," you pouted as you wiped away his small tears of pain.

You got up and grabbed two hot water bottles, slowly moving around and pouring boiling water into them, as well as two mugs of tea. First you brought over the bottles and gave him one, gently pressing it against his stomach. He immediately let out a sigh in response, seeming to relax a bit.

"Here, have some tea, take these too," you put down your mugs of tea on the table, just as you handed him some paracetamol.

"Thank you Y/Nnie, I know you're not feeling too good either," he took the tablets, curling up on the sofa.

"It's ok, you know what though, I think we'd both be comfier in bed right now, yeah?" you pushed back his hair as you planted a kiss on his forehead.

He nodded and slowly sat up, carrying the mugs as you held the hot water bottles and rested your hand on his back.

"What are we gonna do, hey? We're both gonna be like potatoes laying around in bed," you lightly laughed, the roles now reversed as you carded your hand through his hair as he cuddled up to you, head rested on your chest.

"I'll just be a potato forever then if I get to lay here forever with you," he murmured lightly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles of your other hand.

"Do you always get sentimental when you're under the weather?" you teased him now, your cramps easing ever so slightly.

"Sshhh, you, I'm unwell, you need to take care of me," he looked up at you with pouty lips.

"I will, love don't you worry," you pecked him on the lips, smiles prominent on both of your faces as you relaxed in the comfort of each other.

tagged: @skz-streamer @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @kiraisastay @sakufilms