#you are not immune to pretty woman 😭

[scatter-snz]

Best Laid Plans - Part 4

Details: 11k, M sneezes, M/M/F🔥

Summary: A secret agent is going undercover for a few days, and his target has a sneeze fetish. He’s in for a long night.

PART 3 - PART 4 - EPILOGUE

Me, an aroace individual: (holding the porn I’ve written) is this… sexy?

Haha guysssss I struggled with this one 😭 I’ve never written a threesome before, but all the kind thoughts people have shared about this story encouraged me, seriously 🥹 I love hearing about what you guys enjoyed, so THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!! 💖 If I haven’t told you personally how much I appreciate it, please know that I do and I revisit your words to give me soul power ✨ I really hope I did this part justice for those inclined to read it!

These are original characters, all in their mid twenties to early thirties!

Warnings: Mess [not graphically described but present], fake contagion [nobody can catch this cold], pleasure from sneezing, humiliation [character is embarrassed about illness/sneezing], exhibition [characters get horny/touch intimately in public], sneezing on someone [accidentally and purposefully], threesome, bdsm vibes, cunnilingus, anal sex, overstimulation, orgasm denial, sneeze denial, lol the sex might be intense guys BUT there’s aftercare!!!

EXPLICIT ALERT:

The sex is safe, sane, and consensual from all parties while still respecting the world of deception the characters exist in. Omicron gets worked over pretty good LOL, but everyone has fun and he gets aftercare. If you think the circumstances might bother you, or explicit material isn’t your vibe, please feel empowered to skip the sex!! You won’t miss anything plot relevant. I’ll mark the sex scene clearly with 🔥 emojis so you can skip if desired. This might be overkill, I’m just anxious and want everyone reading to stay comfy and safe ❤️‍🩹

---

Omicron was a punctual man, but he arrived a few minutes late to the venue on purpose. 

The Wooden Lantern sat at the top of the tallest structure on the resort campus, situated in what could only be called an observation tower. Every wall was a window showcasing views of the island’s coastline. With the sun slinging low over the water paired with the romantic glow of the restaurant’s interior, it was obvious why reservations spanned over calendar years. Couples leaned close to smile and share plates, knocking knees beneath long tablecloths to the sounds of smooth jazz. 

Isn’t it tacky to discuss the parameters of a threesome here?, Omicron thought with an arched brow. He lifted a handkerchief (lended to him by Delta) to dab beneath his nostrils. They’d tried to apply vaseline, then concealer, to ease some of its obnoxious color; of course he’d rubbed it all away minutes after application, teased to distraction by the smell and sensation. Even if Josaline and her husband would appreciate the abysmal state of his nose, he didn’t want to look like a sick, snivelling mess over dinner. He sighed to himself, resigned. Even an ounce of discretion is too much to hope for.

A stop by the host’s podium led to a winding walk through the venue that ended at a spot at the back. The table, he noticed, was a little larger than the rest to accommodate an extra person. It sat against a window for privacy, lit dramatically by the sunset sky and sparkling lamps. A man and a woman sat there — one of them was familiar.

“Nick!” greeted Josaline, in that dark velvet voice of hers. 

She rose from her seat with flowing grace, hugged by a glittering black gown, and even Omicron wasn’t immune to the way her hair spilled over her bare shoulders. Her lips were brighter tonight, a classic red, and they brought out the brilliance of her smile. She met him before he reached the table to take his cheeks in her hands and kiss them one after the other. Her smile fell to a pout.

“Ohh, sweetheart, you feel a little warm,” she said. Anita got his temperature down with reducers, but it had yet to break entirely. Josaline’s thumbs rubbed the apples of his cheeks, and just as he predicted, drank in the burgundy hue of his nose. He was uncertain how she’d feel about a fever, so he funneled the anxiety into his performance.

“Yeah, I’b-.. hkkrm!” He turned away to clear his throat when his voice cracked, then slanted a sheepish smile. “I’mb, uh.. ndot at my best. But I didn’d have your ndumber and wasn’t sure if you’d wandt to cancel, and I did really wandt to see you and mbeet your husband- uh-.. so-”

She silenced him with a peck on the lips; her eyes glittered in the lamplight. “It’s alright. We don’t mind as long as you’re feeling well enough to be here. Thank you for coming.”

For someone who was apparently suspicious of Nicolas Foster, Josaline seemed calm and pleased to see him. It set Omicron on edge. Did she have an alternative plan up her sleeve that gave her confidence? Did she simply not care about the risks of spending an evening with someone who might be trying to apprehend her? He didn’t let anything show on his face as she led him to the table, but nearly faltered when he saw who he was about to meet.

“Nicolas, let me introduce you to my husband,” said Josaline, gesturing. “This is Cristoph.”

Cristoph Meyer. Josaline’s nonconcern over his cover made much more sense. 

Like her, Cristoph was powerful, well-connected, and capable of squashing any slapdash probing from law enforcement. Unlike her, he was suspected of operating one of the most prolific dark web identity rackets in the world. Josaline had the business and brains, but Cristoph had the means. The fact they were together at all was incriminating, but with their combined clout across facets of society and criminal underworld, it practically guaranteed them immunity from investigation.

It was now imperative that their hack tonight was a success, or else the agency wouldn’t have enough evidence to touch these two with a one-hundred foot pole.

Cristoph stood from his chair, hand extended, with a perfectly polite greeting, “Nicolas. I have heard so much about you.”

He matched his wife in height, her platform heels notwithstanding. Fair hair parted to the side, tidy salt and peppered beard, browline glasses with a tweed suit that evoked a professorial style at odds with the criminal Omicron knew him to be. A little bulky in the torso, thinner in the legs, silhouetted like a martini compared to Josaline’s hurricane glass curves. Together, they defined elegance. Omicron couldn’t help but feel embarrassingly outmatched in his slightly wrinkled suit, clutching a rapidly dampening handkerchief, with a nose glowing brighter than any light in this restaurant.

“Probably mbore thand I’ve heard about you,” he jested. There was an awkward beat where Cristoph’s offer for a handshake remained unmet. “I, uh.. sorry, I don’d kndow if I should shake hands while I’b still sdiffling all over the place..”

Considering what they were going to do tonight, Nicolas’ abundance of caution was silly, if a little charming. The crinkles around Cristoph’s eyes told him so.

“Nonsense,” he said, and when Nicolas finally took his hand, Cristoph cradled it with both of his own. “If it’s not too forward of me to say, I wouldn’t mind catching a cold from a man as lovely as you.”

Nicolas flushed, gaping for words, before finally settling on, “Uh! Well- uh, that’s.. thagnks, that’s a relief!”

Josaline smiled at the two of them, the cat who got the canary, before shepherding Nicolas toward the empty seat. He caught a glimpse of her loaded glance at Cristoph, a smoldering exchange, before she swept to her own chair. And naturally, as soon as they all got settled and ready to chat, Omicron’s needy nose demanded attention. Now you want to sneeze? he griped, tucking the edge of his hanky beneath his nostrils as they indulged in an indolent flare.

It baited him all afternoon, bringing him to the breathless verge of release and then dancing away just before he could finish. In spite of this, he stayed civil. He didn’t meddle, didn’t try to force relief. He heeded his nose meticulously, minding it’s every demand, no matter how much it wanted to mock him. He did all this with the hope it would behave during dinner.

I’m an idiot, he thought ruefully as the tickle struck its baton on a music stand, commanding a collective ripple of sensation through his nose. It snagged his breath, beat by beat, hitch by hitch, as he pressed the handkerchief more securely over his nose and mouth. Of course it’s going to do whatever the hell it wants.

“..h-h-H..-ih’MFZSSh’u!” One was never enough anymore. And thus, an encore. “..hd’MMPHZzsh!” Before he could be grateful for their manageable size, a ticklish crescendo ripped through him and he gasped helplessly, deeply, to bowl over his lap with a much louder, “-eEH’MBFZSSH!”

At a nearby table, a startled fork clinked against a plate. Ambient conversation paused and cautiously continued. Somehow it didn’t occur to Omicron until this moment how clamorous his sneezing would be in a muted space. When he finally opened his eyes, he found two hungry pairs staring back at him from over the table. 

Josaline spoke first, the words dripping from her lips. “Bless, Nicolas.”

“Mbbgh,” he replied eloquently, before leaning away from the table to blow his nose as quietly as he possibly could. Unfortunately this did next to nothing and he was left no choice but to sniffle most of it back into his sinuses. 

Wrong move. Moisture shifted against alert membranes, and he felt the ramifications all through his nose. The tickle snagged his breath, tugging in, in, in — “.. h-.. hh.. hHT-!” and then it vanished as quickly as it came. In its wake was that awful, unrelieved prickling sensation, lingering like an afterimage. 

He sat back up with dewy eyes and half a smile. “Ugh, sorry about thad.” He waved irritably at his face, the red rosy center of it, and tried to make it a joke. “Tricked mbe.”

Josaline laced her hands and rested her chin there, elbows on the table, shadows on her face from flickering candlelight. “Speaking of tricks, before this goes any further there’s something we’d like to get out into the open..”

“We’re aware you are not who you say you are,” Cristoph continued. Despite his directness, he spoke like he might speak of the weather. “Is it safe to assume you came to this resort because of us?”

Omicron wondered if they might take this route. It was certainly the simplest. He’d been prepared to play mind games all night, adding layer upon layer to his cover as the two of them tried to outwit him into revealing something. Assignments like those got complicated fast. Quiet jazz filled the seconds of silence as Omicron analyzed his options and the likelihoods of their best outcomes. In the span of one congested breath, he made his decision. 

“Ahh, you got mbe,” he said, with a wincing smile and meek rub beneath his nose. “I kdnew Ms. Jewel would be here, but ndot you.” He looked toward Cristoph. “I’mb shocked you let mbe mbeet you, under the circumstances.”

The man chuckled as he picked up a slice of bread from the table’s communal basket, scooting a plate of olive oil closer to swab it in. “I knew the risks, but Josaline insisted. She claims you’re quite special.”

“And you’re a smart man, Nicolas,” she added, and then bent over the table to give him a playful tap on the nose. “I’m sure you can see that between us, you have your work cut out for you.”

He didn’t have to exaggerate the effect of her touch. With his nose on a hair trigger, just the reminder it was there was enough to stir the tickle. Omicron blinked against it, bewitched, as it fluffed up like a startled animal. Knuckling his septum didn’t quite dispel the feeling.

“Youhh’ve g-..” Here he paused, nostrils trembling wide, before they reluctantly relaxed again. He sniffed hard, and the sound was hopelessly stunted. “... ndgh, got mbe there too.”

Cristoph watched them as he took a bite of his bread, savoring it before he swallowed. “I will be candid, so please take me at my word.�� He fetched the napkin from his lap to wipe the crumbs and oil off his fingers. 

“We do not care who you work for, or why you came to this resort. What we do care about is having an enchanting evening with you. Would you be open to setting all other motives aside for the sake of a wonderful time?”

Interesting, Omicron mused. He digested the honesty in their expressions. It would be a relief to avoid juggling advanced psychological warfare with a fuzzy head and nose. Under his new directive he wasn’t expected to extract an ounce of information — he only had to keep them occupied and ensure they didn’t catch on. Easy enough, but agreeing too quickly would attract suspicion. 

Nicolas lowered his eyes with a stuffy chuckle, fidgeting with the edge of his bundled silverware. “I, uh.. I don’d thigk that’ll go over well ond mby end.”

“You’ll be returning to your employers empty-handed either way,” Josaline said. He jumped when he felt her foot slide up the side of his leg. “Why not go with a good memory?”

He pretended to give it some thought, but the furrow in his brow deepened when his sinuses twinged. They’d once again grown intolerant of his galvanizing cold. Omicron wrinkled his nose and got his hand halfway to his face when his lungs seized. The sneeze snapped his head down, aimed uncovered at the table and entirely unmuffled.

“-iihPZSSHuu-!..oh, HH-!” He couldn’t even convey his surprise, it came over him so fast. It felt like the inside of his nose was squirming, desperate to get away from the unyielding sensation of something tickling it. “-ht’TZSsh!.. huh.. HD’IZZSshoo!”

He caught the next two against his wrist, uncertain of where his handkerchief was and too sneeze-brained to open his eyes and find it. The usual size wasn’t cutting it, so it was ‘go big or go home’ time. Soft sounds snuck out of him, feeble with desire, each a little higher pitched than the last.

“..uh.. huh... iihh-!”

He could feel it mounting, feel his nose throbbing with want of it, feel the way his body waited for the tickle to overwhelm him completely before he finally jolted into the cup of his hands.

“HIDJZZSSHOO!!-ohhh..” 

That got it. Omicron snuffled muzzily in the tingling aftermath. A few wet blinks cleared his vision, and there was Cristoph holding out not Delta’s weatherbeaten handkerchief, but his own. It was covered with fleur-de-lis, monogrammed with his initials. Omicron took it with a hushed thanks and wasted no time treating himself to a long, gurgling blow. The reproachful stares of other patrons, including some waitstaff, seared into him. Even if this was all for the mission, it was still fucking embarrassing. Omicron funneled his mortification back into Nicolas.

“Jeez, sorry about that,” he huffed under his breath, clutching the patterned hanky in both hands. His cheeks burned. “They snuck up on me.”

A soft touch beneath his chin coaxed his gaze to Josaline. Her voice was liquid silk, pouring over him just like the tresses of her hair when they’d kissed behind her sunhat. “Baby, there’s no need to be embarrassed.”

He lurked a glance toward a pair of middle-aged women a few tables over that were whispering and glaring in his direction. “... but this is such a classy place, and the other people who-”

“Fuck them,” Cristoph said bluntly, and moved his chair to block the ladies from view. Then he gave Nicolas a disarming smile. “You’re here for us.”

So he was, and dinner proceeded to that end.

Josaline and Cristoph were in no hurry. The group split appetizers, sampling one of every dish, before ordering a family-style main course with the intent to share plates. His cold and mild fever wore him down over time; at their encouragement, he surrendered to his symptoms and let himself be as noisy as he needed to. The fact he wasn’t actually contagious eased his guilt, but not his self-consciousness. His only solace was that in dining with two very powerful people, no one dared approach the table to complain about him. 

Conversation revolved around boundaries, expectations, safe words, and preferences. It was obvious by the way they talked that the couple enjoyed this sort of thing — planning an erotic evening together to take a third person apart. It also convinced Omicron that despite their rampant cybercrimes against the public, they were exemplary and experienced practitioners. That dispelled any lingering doubt he had about tonight, and by the time they got to dessert, the three of them had cultivated a rapport.

Omicron was blinking sleepily at the elegant menu lettering, mulling over the merits of ordering gelato on the criminals’ dime, when Cristoph brushed elbows with him. He glanced up to find the man closer than he expected, wearing a wolfish smirk.

“So, Josaline tells me you have a unique talent, but I do not believe her,” he said, drinking in Nicolas’ delicate features before his gaze stopped squarely on his nose. It stood out in crimson contrast to the rest of his face and twitched under the scrutiny. “I would like to try it for myself.”

It took a few seconds for the implications of that to break through Omicron’s fever haze, but once it did, his gut swooped. He wants to make me sneeze in front of this entire restaurant.

“Here..?” he asked, eyes darting to other tables. “Now?”

Josaline clucked her tongue at her husband with a smack to his arm. “Cris, you’re incorrigible.”

Recollections of yesterday’s poolside humiliation flashed through his mind. No doubt this ensuing fit would be as bad or worse. Omicron had carefully avoided any ‘suggestive’ mental images leading up to the date to stay clear-headed; walking into this restaurant with half a boner would have been foolish.

“Not if you’re uncomfortable, of course,” Cristoph assured him, looking between his wife and their shared paramour. Omicron could tell he was genuine when he added, “I won’t pressure you.”

Omicron was unprepared yesterday when he stumbled nose-first into a lucky outcome at the pool, but tonight was different. He knew what he was here to do, what the situation required of him, and he knew he wasn’t alone; Delta and Dr. Voster were working hard behind the scenes to support him. They all had their part to play.

It’s showtime, he thought, and sniffled with a shy little smile. His nostrils flared, just once. He’s going to regret asking for this before we get to the room.

“Actually..” Nicolas lifted a finger to his nose and gave it a priming rub, back and forth beneath his chapped septum. His nostrils pulsed with an unsteady warning. “I wouldn’d mbind. Mbight give mbe someb relief.”

That wasn’t a lie in the slightest. Both of them saw first hand how tireless the torture really was. Even right this second Omicron could feel faint, idle irritation like a channel stuck on permanent static. It would make him sneeze eventually, whether he had help or not. Cristoph gave the room a cursory scan, probably assessing the likelihood of a waiter walking up on them.

“You will let me know if you’d like me to stop?” 

“Of course,” Nicolas replied. A hand grazed his knee and he found Josaline, doe-eyed, close on his other side. Her eyes asked the same question, to which he nodded in reply.

The two shared a look, and their smiles darkened. Nicolas swallowed. 

“From the way she described it, you can be influenced by psychosomatic suggestions, yes?” Cristoph murmured, his voice accompanied by the underlay of soft jazz. “Let me see now..”

He glanced around for inspiration and found it on the table with a sound of delight. Omicron followed his gaze: a small, lit candle.

“I suppose it might feel like this tiny flame,” he began. “Glowing deep in your nose. An urge in its infancy. Too weak to give you relief, but too strong to snuff out. So subtle you aren’t even sure it’s there.”

The image filled his mind and the tickle took form — a painless speck of light hovering in his sinuses. It was a less tangible feeling than usual, ghostly and almost as if he’d imagined it. Omicron wrinkled his nose with a stunted sniff, blinking repeatedly.

“Ah, yes. It tickles a little doesn’t it?” Cristoph continued. “Negligible at first, just an annoyance on your periphery. But given time, even something this small takes its toll.”

Omicron sniffled again and again, then tried to lift his hand to rub the edge off his itch. Josaline caught him smoothly, twining her fingers with his as her other hand glided over his thigh. Without relief, his expression pinched. Cristoph tsked at him.

“Ohh, poor boy. When you sniffle it only goads the flame. Makes it flicker. Makes it bigger.” 

His words sunk into Omicron, luring him down into a trance until it’s all he could hear, think, or feel. With each breath the light grew, guttering against nerves worn raw by ceaseless, maddening stimulation. They seemed to recoil from the tickle when it flared, futile as it was — soon there would be no avoiding it. Each time he blinked, his eyes were slower to open again.

“Mm, it looks like that adorable nose of yours is getting upset. Your nostrils are twitching. They’re so red and sore that I can only imagine what the inside looks like.”

The observations would have flustered Omicron if he’d been in a mind to process it. As it was, all he could focus on was the swelling flame of this tickle. It lulled his eyes shut, parted his lips, tilted his brows in hope as it spread like molasses wildfire. Ponderous. Intensifying. Each time the tickle wavered, licking against an ever increasing surface area, he felt a similar, encroaching ache of pleasure ooze through his gut.

Josaline’s hand crept over the tent in his pants. He flinched, and a breathy moan tumbled out of him.

“You like this,” purred Crisoph, barely a whisper as his words melted through Omicron like softening butter. “And it will feel so good to let go, won’t it? You are in luck because that tickle isn’t going anywhere. It just grows and grows.”

Cristoph had no idea how true that was. Ever since Anita sprayed this cold up his nose, he’d lived on the edge of a sneeze. When he finally recovered, he wouldn’t miss the permanent little niggle that stirred his sinuses to anarchy. He would, however, miss the way the tingle in his nose echoed in his groin. Omicron hitched in a knife’s-edge breath, and let it go on a soft, stuffy sigh.

“Tell me how it feels,” the voice commanded. Omicron bit his lip as pressure increased against his hardening erection in one long, continuous line down the shaft. He strived to comply. 

“..feels..h-hhh-..” A shivering inhale preceded a shuddering exhale, punctuated with a sniffle. “..huhh.. like mby dose iihss..h-hH!..hoo, whed I breathe, every t.. t-hhime it’s ti.. it’s t…HHH!” A pause, then the rest delivered on a defeated breath as he slumped against his chair. “-huhhhhit’s ticklig mbe..”

Josaline’s hand inched down his cock. Omicron, eyes cinched closed, nostrils flaring so hard he could feel them stretch, tried to arch into the touch. An iron grip pressed his thighs firmly to the chair.

“That tickle is written into every line on your face.” Fingers found the bridge of his nose and traced down to the twitching tip. “Agony.” The lightest touch circled the diameter of each spasming nare. “And ecstasy.”

A twinge raced down Omicron’s nasal cavity. A tear squeezed through his lashes. Oh, it was close. He could feel the urge becoming critical, nerves stimulated to a burning frenzy.

“.. Nicolas, I can see that it’s making you want to..”

Omicron heaved in a preparatory hitch and lost it in a frustrated groan. “-hUH-!..ngghh..”

“.. that you need to..”

Another surge of tickling coated his membranes like a hot, prickling blanket. He filled - “h-hhHH!” - and emptied - “..HUHhhh..” - his chest with another heaving breath.

“.. that undoubtedly you’re going to..”

The depth of his gasp came as a surprise, rolling through him as an entire body sensation that began in his nose and ended in his dick. When his lungs bottomed out and didn’t empty, the corners of his mouth tugged with the hint of a smile.

“-hhHHHHH..”

“Sneeze.”

“-EEHHDZZSSSCHYOOO-!!”

It crashed out of him like a calamity, uncovered and inexcusably loud. Omicron didn’t care. Felt so fucking good to sneeze that he couldn’t spare a thought for anything but the exquisite ache at his core. It would have taken his breath away, if the next sneeze hadn’t already.

“-HIH’YIIZSSSHHOOO-!!”

There was a small percentage of his brain power devoted to public decency, and it was this shred of awareness that kept him from moaning aloud as a powerful burst of arousal shot through him. Like a boomerang, what little relief the sneeze granted him came winging right back in a rush of furious, nose scrunching tickles. 

“HEH-.. HEHSSSHUHhh-!!”

Omicron jerked his head down, sneezing clumsily over his lap, and clenched his thighs together when his dick twitched in reply. He gritted his teeth against any noises trying to escape, fastening his hands to the bottom of his chair to ride it out because it.. it-

“-H’JZZSSSCHhh!uhh..” Fuck it just kept coming. He sniffled wildly, his nose streaming, and flinched with an itch that billowed up from his nostrils to his sinuses. Omicron threw himself forward. “-BZZSSSHOO!.. hhP’BZSSHYOO!!..” 

Each one caused him to crunch in his seat, hunching lower and lower toward the table, until someone pressed a hand to his sternum to push him upright. Omicron couldn’t even open his eyes to see who it was. His chest pressed into their touch with staggering hitches that slammed into a herculean sneeze.

“..iih-hhH-HHH-HD’DIHZZSSSCH!-hahh!” 

He couldn’t quite muscle down the moaning punch of pleasure. While not very loud, it sent ice down Omicron’s spine and he whisked a fist beneath wet, widespread nostrils. His other hand scrabbled blindly on the tablecloth for any shred of fabric he could utilize. In vain, he tried to speak.

“-hhah..” He pressed the edge of his hand harder to his septum as the pressure swelled. “..hhhangk.. KIZSSCH!... hH’KZZSSCH’UH!” 

The dismay at drenching his hand was outweighed by the savory zap through his veins. His erection ached for friction, and Omicron couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad thing that Josaline had stopped stroking him. He snorted, or rather tried to, but was met with a cemented clog. The strain made him cough, and then in a haze of dread, start to sneeze. It filled the spaces the congestion couldn’t, throbbing with a tickle so urgent he couldn’t have fought it off at gunpoint.

“-oh shihH-.. hH-H’PPZSSSCHH’IYA!”

It was a disaster of a sneeze, with consequences that left him in dire need of a tissue. Someone gently pried his fist from his face and cupped something crisp and fresh over his nose — a promise of relief. He didn’t think about it; he blew his nose immediately and as thoroughly as possible.

It took four big breaths before he ran dry, and a singular, jolting “-ihg’KSSHU!” that added insult to injury. Only then, in the panting aftermath, did it register to Omicron what he’d done. He froze.

Oh god, he thought, mortified. The fire was gone from his nose, now dwelling in his cheeks, neck, and ears. I just blew my nose into somebody else’s hand. 

He forced himself into a teary squint to assess the damage. Cristoph was gone, his seat vacant. The restaurant was dead silent. Omicron did himself a favor and kept his head down, absurdly grateful his back was to the room. A rustle of cloth against his nostrils caught him off guard.

“Bless you, Nick,” sighed Josaline. The sultry tilt to her tone reassured Omicron a tiny bit.

She was still beside him, gently tending to his nose with an unused edge of what he realized was yet another new handkerchief. The idea the couple brought extras for him was almost as embarrassing as his sneezing fit. He let her do it, still numb, before managing a croaky whisper.

“I-.. jeez, Josaline, I’m-”

“I hope what you are about to say is not ‘sorry,’ darling,” she whispered back, giving his nostrils a careful upsweep with the hanky. He scrunched his expression when it stung and she tutted in sympathy. “I enjoy this, just as I have enjoyed every moment of this evening thus far.”

“But..” Omicron couldn’t bring himself to look behind him, even as the ambience of the restaurant gradually resumed. “Is Cristoph… did I upset him?”

“Not at all,” she assured. Her warm smile verged toward wicked. “He’s just very eager to pay the check.”

Omicron sat there mulling it over, staring sightlessly at the open dessert menu laying forgotten on his plate. His mind was sluggish with fever, his heart still hammering from the humiliation of causing such a ruckus. Ludicrously resilient, his dick remained erect. And somehow, after all that, his nose still had the audacity to tickle. It came over him swiftly — a couple blinks, a flare of his nostrils, a quiet huffing inhale. Then-

“..ih-TSSHuh!” In spite of its size, he still shook in place. Josaline pressed close to breathe a blessing against his temple. Her teeth found his earlobe after that, a sharp enough sensation that it banished the nebulous itch of another waiting sneeze.

She looped her arm around his, tugging him up from his seat onto unsteady feet. “Come along.”

He felt like he was three steps behind her when he asked, “What about dessert?”

“Oh, darling,” she chuckled, and ducked in to nuzzle her nose to his. “We’re getting it to go.”

+ 🔥 + 🔥 + 🔥 + 🔥 + 🔥 + 🔥 +

As I suspected, Omicron mused as he felt a warm, slick digit tease his rim. I’m the dessert.

The trip back to the couple’s top-floor suite was a steamy blur smeared with wet lips, wandering hands, and an unsuspecting tourist who had the misfortune of waiting for the elevator when the doors opened. After stumbling into the suite, Josaline unzipped her dress to unveil stark lines of lingerie filigreed over her skin, and while still wearing her T-strap peep-toe platforms, disrobed Nicolas like she was unwrapping a gift.

Cristoph wasn’t far behind, striding into the room with an air of impatience that dissipated once he joined them on the bed. It didn’t take long for the evening’s plan to unfold. He allowed them to arrange him as they wanted, pliant in their arms, amenable to their requests, a little shivery when his bare skin touched silken sheets.

The finger breached him, and Omicron knew for certain now that his symptom relievers were wearing off. Fevers made him sensitive; even that small intrusion was seismic, yanking a whimper from him before he could stop it.

Cristoph paused. “Is this okay?”

They checked on him often, and while the vigilance was reassuring, Omicron had to repress his reflexive annoyance. He wasn’t a particularly amorous person, but he was very competent in bed. He approached it with the same gravity as he would with any other aspect of his job, and it irked him that he wasn’t capable of his best performance tonight. As a result, they were treating him with the delicacy of spun sugar glass. 

This is what I get for roleplaying a persona with virgin energy, Omicron sourly deduced. Not to mention I look like a stiff breeze could knock me over. Stupid, debilitating, super virus from hell.

Nicolas nodded where he lay belly down with his head resting on Josaline’s pillowy chest, snuffling as quietly as he could. “Y-Yeah, just surprised mbe. Didn’t hurt.”

It took a moment for the man to continue, long enough that Omicron nearly reached back there to help him along. His erection from dinner had yet to fade, as constant as the itch in his nose. Between Cristoph’s glacial-pace prepping, Josaline’s occasional arching pressure against his crotch, and his intermittent, uncontrollable sneezing, it was no wonder. Speaking of which..

He dragged in a gurgling sniffle, one that vibrated enticingly against pleading nerves, and his eyelids fluttered closed. As best he could, he used his elbows for leverage and whipped his head to one side. “..H!heh..h’DZSSHuh!” 

By Josaline’s mandate, Nicolas wasn’t allowed anything for his nose — no tissues, no handkerchiefs, no hands. When he’d stammered out the question of what he was supposed to do if he needed one of those things, she’d bestowed on him a smile worthy of an heiress and said she was confident he’d ‘figure it out.’ What he figured out was that she was goading him into sneezing on her and that he was far too embarrassed to do so. He kept his head turned away as his breath jagged again.

“..iyeh-.. iih’KIHSSH’u!” 

Rather than punish him with a single, prodigious sneeze, the tickle strung him along with several smaller ones. It reminded him of a disgruntled customer ringing a reception desk bell deep in his nose; they waited just long enough to give the illusion that they’d given up before.. DING! 

He felt its call keenly, a request for service that he was helpless to deny. Omicron aimed for the blankets - “het’TEHZSHiew!!-mmgg..” - and trembled in the tingling aftermath. 

In lieu of a blessing, Josaline caressed Omicron’s flushed cheek. Each time he sneezed his muscles clenched, and it wasn’t doing Cristoph any favors as he worked on loosening Nicolas up for a second finger. It was an absolute miracle the two of them found this arousing because Omicron felt like a limp rag for all that he was contributing to the process. He should probably make an effort here.

Snuffling up the aftermath of his last sneeze, he shifted his knees to push against Cristoph’s intrusion. The man’s hands were thick, wide-knuckled, and long. Perfect for fingering, even if he was being incredibly slow about it. At the risk of slipping his cover, Omicron cast aside the shrinking violet act to insist, “I can take adother.”

“Oh, can you?” mused Crisoph. He pumped his finger in and out, inch by agonizing inch. “Care to ask nicely?”

So, he was being slow on purpose. And now he wanted the magic word? It was a testament to Omicron’s exemplary professionalism that Nicolas was able to muster a polite reply. “.. Mbay I have adother? Please?”

After a hum of approval, another slippery finger entered him — a split-second icy burn that heated into gut-clenching delight. A stuffy sigh fell from his lips, gusting across Josaline’s chest as she stroked her thumb up the bridge of his nose. Her voice was liquid gold when she purred in his ear. 

“What a good boy.”

Pressed prone against her thighs, his dick twitched. Hard. Fuck. 

She grinned and dipped to kiss him, soft and sweet, teasing out congested sighs that she muffled with her tongue. He lost himself to her, and soon two fingers became three. He snuffled clumsily when he felt the stretch, panting against her lips as he rolled his pelvis for friction. Then Cristoph crooked them to graze the spot that struck sparks behind Omicron’s eyelids. He moaned into Josaline’s mouth. “MMBgghh-!” 

“There we go,” Cristoph growled behind him. He arranged his fingers and presssssssed. “How does that feel, beautiful?”

Hopefully the fact Omicron couldn’t formulate a reply spoke for itself. All he could do was whimper and squirm against Josaline, kiss her senseless, and chase his pleasure with every rock of his hips. Momentum mounted, heat accumulated, his thoughts quieted to nothing but more, more, more. 

And deep in his nose, the bell rang. 

Omicron snapped his eyes open just in time to close them again. It overwhelmed him instantly — a singular, ticklish sweep down the length of his nasal cavity. Nostrils widening, jaw dropping, he only had time to rip away from her lips and jerk his chin down. 

“-eh’GZISSSHoo!”

It was just the one, but that was plenty.

Warm aerosol misted her bare chest. Cristoph’s fingers pulled away. Josaline gasped. Any pleasure he felt from the act shriveled when panic seized him. Before he could gather himself for a profuse apology, she had him by the hair. Kissed the shame from his lips. Fetched a tissue from a box waiting on the nightstand. She wiped his nose for him, then commanded him to blow. He didn’t dare defy her. 

After that he found himself face first in the valley of her long, smooth legs. Josaline snaked a hand down her waist to unhook the side of her thong and peel it away. Her vulva, like the rest of her, was groomed with exacting precision. The dark curls were trimmed to frame her glistening lips, swollen and open to him like a flower. She didn’t need to explain what she wanted. 

Obediently he lowered his head, guided by her hand, and glanced up at her through his lashes when he nibbled the inside of her thigh. Parting his lips helped with his lingering congestion, and he knew from experience the delectable sensation of hot breath gusting across wet skin. Josaline may not have minded (enjoyed..) him sneezing carelessly on her boobs, but he’d rather give her some top quality oral. He had it on good authority that his technique was solid, coveted even, among those he’d pleasured. Thus it was with confidence that Omicron resolved to blow her mind, his cold be damned.

Until he nuzzled into her curls and was slapped across the face with a familiar scent. Josaline saw him hesitate, and he watched in real time as her vulva undulated with anticipation.

“I’m surprised you can smell it,” she murmured, setting her heels against the mattress and arching just enough to skim the tip of his nose with her burning seam. Her words were a wanton sigh. “My gift for you.”

It surprised him too. This was a testament to the power of her perfume that it could penetrate days’ worth of swelling and congestion. Even at this proximity, his eyes began to water. The tickle stretched like a lazy cat twitching its tail, on the verge of getting restless. His nostrils pulsed in unhappy reply. There was absolutely no way he’d manage this with any degree of finesse. 

Josaline had to know that, and she confirmed it when she told him, “Sneeze as much as your nose desires. As many times as you want, as hard as you want, but do not forget what you’re down there to do.”

The way she tightened her fingers in his hair told him he wouldn’t be lifting his head until she finished. Her vulva flexed again, inviting him in. Omicron allowed himself two steadying breaths before sealing his fate. He ducked down to her swollen folds and skimmed the tip of his tongue up her seam. The way she moaned, low and guttural as her head fell back against the pillows, was promising. He got to work.

Oral was a delicate process, but Omicron let experience lead him. Lick with the flat of his tongue; delve into the core of her for a taste; circle her clit with the tip before tracing the lines of her lips. When her folds fluttered around him, expectant and needy, he doubled down on the techniques she liked. He breathed only through his mouth, kept his nose away from her short hair, and did his best to ignore the way his nostrils flared with increasing frequency. Occasionally the tickle fidgeted, disturbed in slumber, and he sipped in a little gasp. Willpower alone helped him sigh down from the tempting high, each time letting his breath pass over her wet folds to hear her mewl. 

She was gripping him hard now, fingers kneading, thighs shaking, breathing heavy. Omicron smirked against her, tongue in her hole, the bridge of his nose barely grazing the edge of her clit, licking against her soft, pulsating walls with the intention of dragging this out until she made him pay for it. That is, until he felt something hot and slick press up against his ass.

In his concentration, he’d missed a couple telling sounds: the rip of a wrapper, followed by the elastic squeak of a lubed condom. Cristoph apparently wouldn’t be sitting idly by while Josaline had all the fun. Omicron had no issue with this, but what he did mind was the ramifications of the surprise.

At the feeling of a cock against his crack, Omicron gasped. With his tongue deep in Josaline, he did this instinctively through his nose and dragged a billowing cloud of perfume into his sinuses. The tickle woke from its fitful sleep and, as expected, flew into an irrational rage. It was a brutal itch, assaulting his tortured membranes with a storm of demanding, sparking sensation. 

Omicron couldn’t get a breath in, let alone jerk away from Josaline, before the first sneeze tripped out of him. “-PBBTHHhsht!!”

It was the least sexy noise he’d ever made, delivered messily into Josaline’s gleaming folds, but nevertheless she arched into his face with a high, breathy whine. Omicron sniffled reflexively and got a noseful of curls and that infernal, floral scent. His eyes rolled back as he hitched, his head ratcheting by increments and nostrils spasming with distress. The tickle hadn’t diminished at all; it remained an unrelenting, dominating force in his nose down to the deepest reaches.

“-MMBSSshh!” He muffled it into her vulva, feeling the way it contracted in reply, hearing how she cried out, and it was fortunate she liked this because he couldn’t do much more than hold onto her thighs and, “-MPHzssh!.. hk-MPHSshh!!”

Josaline’s hips left the bed, her hands forcing his face more secure to her. She was thrusting in earnest now, so Omicron did his best to slip his tongue inside her and meet her rhythm. Each time they pressed together, he angled himself so that his nose would rub against her engorged clit. Each time he eased back, his ass nudged more firmly against Crisoph’s firm cock. Pleasure skittered through him from both ends, sensations warring for control.

On top of all that, the tickle reigned terror. It led an army of irritation through his nasal passages, running roughshod over his worn membranes while they quaked with stimulation. His nose didn’t know what to do with this other than sneeze. The cloying perfume was all he could smell, overpowering even the scent of Josaline’s pleasure.

“-nggshh!.. hh-HGZssh!!huh-hhGXSssh!” 

There was a stuttering anguish to them in the wake of his body’s confusion. Why isn’t this working? his nose cried out. Please, it tickles so much. Makes us have to-

“-ihgGXZSSHT!!”

It was the closest to a stifle he’d ever come, and it scraped out of him with such misery that he decided he couldn’t do that again. Nor could he muscle through another second of this fragrance. Omicron leaned back with a weak huHH! and tried to aim where Josaline needed him most- 

“-hH’EHDSSH!.. h-HA’JZSSHEE!” Oh that was better- “hhHHH’CHZZSSSHHOOO! Fhhuck-!”

The physical recoil of that last sneeze popped Cristoph past his rim. Jeeeeeezus, he was thick. Omicron hadn’t caught sight of his penis, but he could feel the girth as it pushed into him, slick with lube. His toes curled with the stretch. 

“Mmmmm, god you’re tight,” Cristoph groaned, holding onto Omicron’s hips and shaking with the strain of staying still as the smaller man adjusted. “And so damn hot..” 

It was difficult to know if he meant aesthetically, or physiologically. Omicron could feel his fever thrumming through every molecule, heightening sensations, fogging his head, beading sweat along his hairline even as he shivered from intermittent chills. Lost in the feeling of being filled, he almost forgot about Josaline. She was kind enough to remind him by yanking him back down flush with her quivering hole. Given the rough handling, they’d probably realized he was more experienced than he let on. He grinned as he shoved his tongue in, lapping up her juices and moving up to lavish her abandoned clitoris with long, flat licks.

His nose, not to be outdone by either of his partners, reminded him of the scent he’d spent the last few minutes sucking into his sinuses. Breathing through his mouth did him no favors now that the damage was done. He got a second’s notice of buildup before the tickle waged war. 

“-eh’KSSH!.. hK’IISShh!” They toppled over one another in their hurry to escape his convulsing nostrils, his trembling lips, his shuddering chest. “-eHTSSH!-h’IKSH-.. kshh!- h..HIHkshh-! HEH.. KZZSHHOO!”

He’d never sneezed like this in his life. His nose was frantic with them, and not a single one relieved an iota of irritation. Tears broke their water-lines and painted his cheeks. His nose dripped freely. Each sneeze made him clench around Cristoph, who groaned in reply, and he showered Josaline’s spasming, wet core with a regularity she audibly appreciated. She wouldn’t let go of his hair, keeping him where she wanted him.

“-H’KSsh!-eh’SH!-.. hohhbygoh’DZZSH!-hahh..” This wasn’t going to stop until she came, so- “CHZsh- ehCSH!..h-HH’GZsh!!” -he needed to hurry up and- “TZSsshoo!- fugk-” -do something about it.

Omicron buried himself into her, tongue flicking like mad against her clit, swirling and wiggling and licking as fast as he could manage as her moans hitched to higher and higher pitches. Sneezing with his tongue occupied seemed hazardous, but when the first “eHPTTHHeh!” burst from him with no issue, he let the rest come as they pleased. One, two, four, eight, compounding on themselves so that when the ninth lagged behind with a shivery gasp, Omicron dove to suck her clit between his lips.

Josaline bent over him with a shout, nails scratching his scalp as she was struck with powerful, rhythmic contractions. Omicron polished her off with one last lick, loathe that he couldn’t tongue her through the aftershocks, but-

“-HAHZZSSHHOOO!!” 

His nose was pretty angry with him. He panted into the aftermath before roaring another huge, ab-clenching sneeze between her legs. “HEEHHSSSHHOO!.. ugh, huhh..ht!DZZSHHHYOO!”

They exploded from him with such force that he squeezed Cristoph mercilessly. The man leaned over, his huffing chest to Omicron’s heaving back, and reached a hand around to Omicron’s neglected cock. It was so hard it ached, beading precum every time he sneezed. He gasped to the brink of one, and then lost it to a whine when Cristoph’s thumb circled over the tip. Fuck fuck fuck-

“I’b godda-” he choked out, hoarse and out of breath. Cristoph seated himself to the hilt, deep. The tickle writhed in him, deeper. Omicron gasped out a hitchy, “Ghhodda c.. cumb-! uhh-h-HHT-”

“Not yet,” Cristoph grunted, and looped his finger and thumb just beneath Omicron’s cockhead. Then squeezed.

Omicron knew about this type of edging, but had never been on the receiving end. The towering wave of his orgasm hung over him.. and then receded. As did the hovering threat of his sneeze. Both sensations spiraled into nothing, the most unsatisfying thing he’d ever felt, and Omicron shocked himself when he pounded a fist against the bed.

To be fair, they talked about this technique at dinner and declared it fair game for the evening. Foolishly, Omicron didn’t think he’d mind it in bed. It was an unexpected discovery for him to realize he did.

He whipped a glare over his shoulder, and his face — the freshly falling tears, the fever flush, the uninhibited mess leaking from his nose, his furious scowl — did something to Cristoph. He tensed and fell unexpectedly into his orgasm, so unprepared he yelped. Omicron could feel the man’s dick twitching in his hole, but because he was pissed off, he did absolutely nothing to help it along. Just wiped his face on the blankets until Cristoph went boneless on top of him. 

On a better day Omicron would have shouldered the weight no problem, but pleasure and fever made him weak. He floundered, his dick still hard and trapped uncomfortably beneath him, before mustering a stuffy sound of protest.

Cristoph pulled out with a shudder and moments later there were hands on him, scooping him up, cradling him, and Omicron refused to look at anything other than the bedspread. He was angry about the denial, embarrassed by his anger, exhausted and feeling frustratingly fragile as new tears bubbled at the corner of his eyes.

“God, you’re cute when you pout,” Cristoph groaned, burying his face into Omicron’s neck to suck apologetic kisses into his skin. “I’m sorry, love. Had to be done. Wanna see your face when you cum.”

“Let us spoil you rotten,” Josaline crooned, recovered from her orgasm and swooping down to smooth sweaty hair away from his forehead. “After all, you’ve been such a good boy.”

His dick twitched and Omicron bit his lip on a whine. He wanted relief, he needed it, but when he tried to grab himself he was stopped by Josaline’s wrangling hands. The words burst out of him, “Fuck, please, I- I- ndeed to-”

“Shhhhh,” she soothed, kissing the pleas into silence as Cristoph’s big, firm hand came around to grip Omicron at the base. He arched, whimpering, and she ran her tongue along his lips before leaning back. “Listen to me, Nick.”

He laid against Cristoph’s chest, dazed, blinking through sticky eyelashes as the man warmed a handful of lube and applied it to Omicron’s straining erection. Omicron hissed, bucking into the slide, trying in vain to get himself off when he had so little energy. He shook with the effort until he was hushed by his bed partners. They rearranged themselves to settle a shivering Omicron against the soft mountain of pillows at the head of the bed, the other two by his side. Josaline drenched her hands in lube as well, speaking as she warmed it up.

“Relax,” she told him. “Close your eyes.” He complied. “Focus on what you feel.”

First it was just Cristoph’s hand lazily stroking his dick, too slow and light to get him anywhere. Then it was Josaline spreading his legs to sit between them, gliding her touch along his knee, his thigh, until she moved to his empty hole. One finger slipped in, joined by another, and she beckoned his prostate with gentle rubs. He gasped through his nose and mouth, dragging just enough air through his congestion that it kindled the tickle.

After that aborted sneeze, it had sulked in his sinuses for a while. Always present, but for a time immaterial. Just a reminder of something stuck and waiting. His breath emboldened it. 

Omicron’s nostrils twitched, alert to the urges that dwelled within, and Josaline must have seen it because her next words were, “Oh? Got a tickle?”

Always, he thought, but nodded nonetheless. Another tremor from the tickle, and a reflexive twinge of his nose. Someone would probably stop him if he used his hands to rub it, so he turned his head to chafe the ailing appendage against Cristoph’s shoulder. The man denied his orgasm so he deserved it; judging from his hum, however, he didn’t mind.

“I know it’s itchy, sweetheart, but let it come,” Josaline tutted. When he lifted his head he felt the pad of her thumb brush the raw skin of his septum. Her other hand never paused, petting a steady rhythm that she matched to Cristoph’s measured strokes. “Deep breath now..”

Omicron tried to obey, but the effort just made him cough. His membranes were so swollen they throbbed, and the tickle twisted against them with intensifying tenacity. He hiccuped a gasp, sighed it out on a moan, and fidgeted when his other urges escalated as well. Josaline and Cristoph picked up the pace and pressure in harmony.

“What a cold you’ve caught, you poor thing,” whispered Josaline in a honey-soaked voice, “You’re so congested. I bet that sneeze would like some help. It’s gotten stuck so deep in your nose, and there’s not much it can do, is there?”

No, and there wasn’t much Omicron could do either — except ride the electrifying waves of sensation circuiting through his penis, prostate, and sinuses. He was at the mercy of all three of them.

“Do you feel it inside you? Locked away somewhere and struggling. Probably searching for an escape.”

Her suggestions entered him, crawling and prickling as they went. He could see it, this imaginary force that fanned out into feathery tendrils to search the depths of his nose. First it was heedless of the way it lit up his neurons with need. It wasn’t long before it realized its power however, and the irritation was no longer incidental. It was intentional. 

“Yes, that’s right. It will do what it does best and stimulate those susceptible nerves of yours. They must be terribly sensitive. To have something squirming against them at this juncture, I’m sure it’s torture.”

Oh, it was. Hellbent on whipping his nose into hysteria, the tickle was relentless and targeted. The sinuous threads continued to spool, probing his membranes, brushing down his nerve pathways, slowly invading him. Nothing was safe, not his sinuses, not the shores of his nostrils, not anything in between. Omicron turned his head one way and then the other as if he could evade the tickle’s probing touch. The hands around him and inside him responded by shifting up another gear.

“Soon it won’t matter how stuffy you are. This tickle will taunt and tease you, caress those sensitive places only it can reach, entice you and remind you that it will feel oh so wonderful to sneeze until you’re desperate for it.”

Please, he pleaded with himself as he snorted and coughed. Please please sneeze. He could feel each individual tendril dragging against his walls, the stirrings of them deep inside him as they coalesced into an urge looming over him alongside his impending orgasm. He gasped, sighed, gasped again-!, groaned. Arched against the cool, sweat-sheened chest behind him. Dug his heels into the mattress. His head was spinning, nose twitching, on the edge of something enormous.

“Once it starts, you cannot resist. The way you hitch and moan. The way your nostrils pulse with uncertainty and your expression pinches with desire. You ache for it. Crave it. This elusive release.”

Again, the pulsating trio of stimuli doubled speed. The hand on his dick jerked him fast and sloppy. The fingers inside him bore down and swirled. The ticklish threads writhed in his nose, creating waves of irresistible feeling. Soft, yearning hitches became heaving gasps he couldn’t let go of. He felt the scales tip, the first toppling domino, a pleasurable chain reaction with an unavoidable end.

“Your body can only take so much, and I can see you’re at your limit.”

Omicron could only assume he looked wrecked, fucked out, fever-flushed, and splotched with fluids. He strained into their touches and into the unstoppable tickle as they sent him hurtling headfirst into release. It couldn’t come fast enough. Lungs inflated to the brim, throat blocked by waiting air, he couldn’t even beg. Couldn’t think of the words to do so. Could only tremble on the brink with a tiny, broken whimper.

It’s coming, it’s coming I’m-

And then - “Go ahead, my darling. Let it all out.”

His orgasm struck like lightning, followed by thunderous ecstasy. In a singular moment, tension snapped and broke over him in a deluge of powerful, convulsing delight. Omicron couldn’t make a noise, lungs still locked up with an impending sneeze that his body, even in the flood of endorphins, hadn’t forgotten. He was barely through the first spasm of his orgasm when-

“BZZSSHHh-hHUH, ahHH!!” 

It wasn’t the strongest sneeze of the night by far, but it sent a mind-blowing ricochet of pleasure through the core of him. With momentary control of his throat, he managed a short shout before his breath was whisked away on another gasp. His orgasm hovered on pause, building tension and expectation as his body struggled with executive commands. Stymied, it decided to do everything at once.

“H’BBZZSSSHHhuUHHHohgod!!” 

Omicron folded over himself as he ejaculated a second time, and shuddered with another devastating orgasmic rush. His abs clenched, his thighs trembled, he kept one hand on the bedspread to prop himself up as he groaned through seismic waves of sensation. Usually the pleasure centralized to his groin but now it was his entire body, every single inch of him tingling with residual energy.

When he felt his lungs stutter, his nostrils flutter, the come-hither squirm of something in his nose, his eyes widened before rolling closed. His dick twitched, weak but willing. He was helpless against the tickle, didn’t want to fight it, wanted it to tease his nose to insanity so he could sneeze and sneeze and sneeze and sneeze, but the rational side of him knew his head was spinning and his skin was prickling and-

A fittish hitch for every eager moan. “-hh!uh.. hHH!uhh..” 

Omicron’s mind spun, a touch of panic even as he fidgeted with anticipation. I’m so wrung out, I might-

Pressure building. Exhausted, but unsatisfied. “-HHH!uhh!..hHHH!-UH-” 

I might actually black out.

Regardless of the risks, when he felt the surge of sensation finally reach his nostrils flung wide and ready, Omicron smiled into the release. “HH!!- HP’BBBZZSSSHH-!!”

The sneeze reverberated through him like a gong, down to his very atoms. Pleasure overloaded his veins, too much for his body, and he sank down dizzily while he shook through the clenching aftershocks. He had nothing left, but his dick spasmed anyway, leaking what was left of his load onto the sheets. Faintly, he realized he’d never had an orgasm so intense. Probably would never have one quite like it again. It was this thought that made him savor the trembling bolts of brightness that coursed through him as he drifted.

His vision fuzzed at the edges. His heartbeat pounded in his head. I was right, he thought as he watched dark spots overtake his blurry view of the room. Gonna pass out. 

As he faded, he felt soft hands cradle his cheeks and heard a satin voice tell him, “Good boy.”

+ 🔥 + 🔥 + 🔥 + 🔥 + 🔥 + 🔥 +

Awareness came back in pieces. 

First, tactile sensation — a damp cloth wiping sweat, mucus, and cum off his skin; gentle fingers massaging sore muscles, raking through his hair; clean, dry blankets wrapping him up. 

Next, sound — quiet banter; hushed bustling around the room; a door opening and closing, the comforting drone of a television set to low volume.

Finally, Omicron cracked open his eyes. Turned out to be a terrible idea, as the rest of his body came online to remind him of what he’d just done. His head pounded, there was an awful taste in his mouth, and his rear end stung when he shifted his weight the wrong way. Not the worst he’d ever felt, but coupled with the immovable sinus pressure and overall fever-malaise, Omicron would have preferred more sleep to being conscious.

You shouldn’t have been asleep in the first place, came the conditioned response that he ignored. While it wasn’t exactly advisable to fall unconscious in enemy territory at the hands of international cyber criminals, after the intimacy they’d shared Omicron doubted they tried any funny business while he was out. He didn’t have the strength to berate himself for it.

With much effort, he sat up to an empty room bathed in low lamplight. All the traces of guests were gone, save for a few items on the bedside table: two unopened bottles of water, a fresh-bought bottle of NyQuil, a stack of clean handkerchiefs, and a note written in a looping scrawl. He picked it up and squinted at it.

To our dear Nicolas-

Very sorry we couldn’t stay. Thought it was safest for us to dash.

The room is yours for the week, paid in advance. Get rest and feel better soon.

It’s best if we don’t meet again, but we will miss you terribly.

Hopefully Cris and I will catch your cold to remember you by 😘

Kisses-

J & C

Omicron slumped there for a second, zoning out on the lettering with static on the brain. It was over. He completed the mission. Relief didn’t come because he had no idea how successful he was, wouldn’t know until he hiked back to his hotel room. Aside from feeling like shit, he couldn’t come up with an excuse to delay it.

And so after guzzling down an entire bottle of water, off he went.

If the scramble to Josaline and Cristoph’s room was a blur, the hobble back to his own was a blackout. Omicron couldn’t remember much from the trip, aside from glaring at a graveyard shift housekeeper who clocked his walk of shame. Yes, he was barefoot in a bathrobe, smelling of sex, carrying his wrinkled belongings under one arm. He’d also just been vigorously railed up the ass and had lost half his weight in cum, snot, and tears. Excuse him if he wasn’t in the mood to make pretenses.

When he reached the door, Omicron realized he didn’t have his key card. With a sigh, he let his sweaty forehead thunk against the door — after which he almost became painfully acquainted with the carpet when it swung open a second later. A firm body spared him that fate.

“Omicron!” Strong hands steadied him by the shoulders. He raised his head to find Delta, very awake despite the hour and scanning his subordinate like he expected an injury. “Oh, thank goodness. It’s been hours.”

Omicron squinted, partially because he was so exhausted his eyes were blurring but mostly because he was confused. Of course it had been hours. Then a terrible thought struck him. “W-Was thad ndot edough time?”

His voice was a raspy, gunked facsimile of itself. Delta started shaking his head before Omicron even finished speaking. “No, no, it was more than enough! Don't worry, the hack was a complete success. The crypto team is very pleased, as am I, you knocked it out of the park. I suspect you'll receive a commendation from headq- oop!”

For the second time on this mission, Delta caught Omicron before he could swoon to the ground. The knowledge of a job well done thrummed through his veins. He felt like Atlas letting the world roll off his shoulders; his knees were weak from the strain of carrying it. With one arm anchored around his waist, Delta lifted the other to test Omicron's forehead against his palm. He hissed at the heat he found there. 

“Oh, Omicron,” he muttered, exasperated, and glanced over his shoulder. “He's burning up.”

“Probably overexerted himself,” came Anita's voice, clearer as she got closer. Another hand, colder than the first, cupped the nape of his neck. Omicron couldn’t fight off his reflexive shiver. “Mm. Well, we still have some acetaminophen he can take.“

I'm standing right here, he thought, miffed but unable to marshal an objection. He let them bicker about what to do with him, limp in Delta’s arms, until his stuffy breaths grew shaky. For fuck’s sake, after everything, still?? Omicron groaned against Delta’s chest, eyes pinching and nostrils bucking in preparation for what was assuredly coming. 

Conversation abruptly stopped, and Delta stiffened. “Omicron? What's wrong?”

“heh-..eh’TZSSsh!” His head bobbed and Delta tightened his hold while Omicron blinked in the limbo of another. It came gently, a feathery wind through his tired nose, and he took his gasp in sips. “h-h-hH’TDZSsh!”

‘I'm in charge here,’ he told his cold mere days ago. To imagine he began this journey with such hubris. He was defenseless, drained, devoid of the will to fight the way it twisted his expression. Lassoed his breath. Made his nostrils flutter, his balance suffer, and yet-

“DZZSSh’uu-!”

-they delivered him a visceral satisfaction he couldn’t begrudge. Someone pressed a bushel of tissues into his hands. Logically he knew he should use them, but the tickle kept him immobile. All he could do was lean against Delta, helpless to the thrall, breathing into it greedily with a feeble hope it would give him something strong enough to feel satisfied. 

“..idzh.. h-HH!” It stalled out in his sinuses, and his expression froze in wait. Then-.. it rocked him forward. “..ZZSSH’uu!.. h’EH-” Stuck again. Omicron wavered there as the tickle smoldered, jogging his head back by tiny degrees. Oh, it felt big, then bigger and bigger as his nose wrestled with it. The back of his head bumped Delta’s shoulder before the tickle finally pushed him over the edge. He doubled over, anchored by the arm around his waist. “EEHCHZZSSSHHhhhhaa..”

A momentous sneeze petered out on a fulfilled sigh that dissolved into a muffled cough. He sagged, and Delta’s grip tightened again. As the world came back to him, he realized he’d sneezed freely, possibly catching somebody in the crossfire, but he just didn’t care. He belatedly lifted the tissues to his nose and cringed when they grated like sandpaper. The skin was so tender he dare not do more than blot it.

“Are you injured?” demanded Delta. Omicron shook his head against the man’s chest. No, no injuries. Nothing beyond what’s expected from vigorous sex. Delta asked next, “Do you want a shower?”

That was the politest possible way of saying, You look and smell like an utter wreck and it sucker-punched the tattered remains of his ego. Omicron shook his head again, partly because doing anything aside from laying down might make him cry, but mostly because he couldn’t stomach the idea of needing help from either of them in the bathroom.

Delta hitched Omicron more securely to his side, a decision made. “Alright. Bed, then.”

No, wheedled his sense of duty. I haven’t given my report yet. Omicron could barely keep his eyes open. He mumbled, “But, the debrief..”

“Can wait,” his superior finished. There was a rare sternness to his voice and it brokered no argument. “You need rest. That’s an order.”

Well, the boss meant business if he was throwing around orders. They washed over Omicron with a comforting finality — he didn’t have to worry about anything anymore. Delta would handle it. Responsibility evaporated and it was sweeter than anything he’d felt that evening. Heat welled up behind his eyes, a lump in his throat, and Omicron turned his face into his superior’s shirt.

It was so rare he could drop all his walls and lay himself bare, not on a bed but in life. Trust wasn’t a word in his dictionary, but tonight he wanted to know it. He sought solace in the steady thump of Delta’s heartbeat under his ear. Emotion loosened his congestion, forcing him to repeatedly sniffle as he tucked the sleeve of his bathrobe under his sore nostrils.

“Okay,” he whispered, and surrendered. 

The walk to the bed was slow, shivery, and stumbling, but Delta threw back the covers and lowered him to the mattress. Once Omicron was supine he brought the blankets back up and took care to tuck them in. He’d make a good dad, his fever mused as he watched Delta fetch a fresh box of unscented, lotion-infused tissues for him. He ripped out a dozen to hand over and Omicron gathered them to his nose for a strengthless blow. It didn’t do much for his congestion, but got his nose dry enough that he wasn’t constantly sniffling.

The vibration of his sinuses chased out a sneeze, one that came over him like a misty cloud — foggy, permeating, gentle. His eyes weighted gradually as the tickle filled him up, and he huffed little hitches as it mounted. Someone (Delta) exchanged his used tissues for clean ones. He brought them up to his nose just in time to catch it.

“-heh..TSSsh!” 

He blinked as the cool, tingling conclusion hazed into another declaration. As if it knew how tired he was, the tickle barely tried. It reminded him of the way someone might pet a small animal, with just one finger and very little pressure. Delicately, carefully, like you were scared of hurting it. The tickle was a repetitive, soothing stroke against his frayed nerves. What once wouldn’t have been enough was now plenty, and Omicron relaxed back against the pillows while he let it come. 

“hh!ih.. h.. h…mmbb..” A soft sniffle, a softer sigh, and oh- “.. ih’TZSssh!..” His eyes fluttered open, eyes tilted skyward under heavy lids. His nostrils flared methodically, hypnotized, and his lungs gathered breath with an unhurried hhhhhhh.. before he jolted into his pile of tissues. “TZSSshoo!.. huh..”

His nose tingled pleasantly, and while it would be temporary, Omicron let himself float.

“.. Bless you.”

Delta stood there with a hand on his hip, scrubbing the other back and forth through his cropped hair. There was a look on his face that Omicron couldn’t parse — knitted brows, lips pressed in a line, thoughts racing behind his eyes too quick for Omicron to guess at them. Anita walked up behind Delta’s shoulder, studied him for a moment, and then pinched her nose with a long, silent sigh. Omicron caught her smiling, a tiny, amused slant to her lips, before she stepped up alongside their team leader to give him a hearty slap to the back. 

“I’ve got him, sir,” she said with a grin. He turned to look at her, then back at Omicron, then Anita again. His feet stayed rooted to the spot until she arched a brow. Then scratched his head one last time.

“Alright,” he conceded, though he sounded unhappy. He bent down to Omicron, cupping his subordinate’s shoulder through the blankets, and gave him a genuine smile. “You did a stupendous job, Agent Omicron. Leave the rest to me. All you need to do now is sleep. Do you understand?”

Omicron nodded. The praise of a job well done, so sincerely and deliberately conveyed, sprung instant tears to his eyes. They gathered faster than he could wipe them away. Thankfully Delta didn’t see, already moving for the door with an authority he seldom exuded. 

“I’ll radio ops to update them. Call me immediately if anything changes.” 

It shut behind him, and Anita plopped herself down on Omicron’s bedside. Her smile was warm, not a trace of good-natured mockery, as she reached out to thumb a tear away from the corner of his eye. This wasn’t the first time she’d watched him come apart after a mission, or found him docile because he didn’t feel good. This also wasn’t the first time she’d seen him cry. Because of this, she knew how to handle him when he got this way.

Quiet voice. Yes or no questions. No unnecessary attention drawn to his demeanor. Simple instructions when she wanted something from him, and positive feedback when he accomplished it. She gave him medication, water, and ignored his weak complaints when she insisted on a quick physical examination to ensure the night went as safely as he insisted it did.

And when there was nothing left to do, as Anita stood to give him space, Omicron reached around to hook a hand at the hem of her shirt. She paused. He heard the huff of fondness and felt the bed dip when she sat down again. He closed his eyes when her hand smoothed up the plane of his back through the sheets.

“Until you fall asleep?” she asked. He nodded into the pillows, and sighed when she moved her hand back down his spine. Up again. And down. Steady and reassuring, a sedative that reached for him and escorted him toward slumber. 

But because this was Anita, and because she was the way she was, she couldn’t help but mutter around a smirk, “Why can’t you be this cute all the time, O?”

He grabbed a pillow and lobbed it at her. This time, it didn’t miss.

/tbc!

Omicron: (has mind blowing sex while sneezing his brains out) Omicron: Omicron: this better not awaken anything in me.

There will be a short epilogue to wrap up the story! Thank you for sticking with me this far! 🧡

EPILOGUE IS HERE

[spirit-lanterns]

I stopped playing HSR after the HuoHuo ghost hunting event so everything I know about other characters is pretty much dubious. Well, so, Castorice is said to kill everything she touches, no? Imagine her feeling touch of a woman for the first time in her life ToT reader being a visitor and not knowing who she is, accidentally stumbling into her and rather than dropping dead we just apologize and bolt off.

The realization that this person just touched her without consequences ToT

If you were somehow immune to Castorice’s death curse and accidentally touched her, I’d honestly think she’d harbor a little obsession with you 🫢

She’s definitely touch starved. Hasn’t touch anyone in forever, let alone another woman. The moment you collide with her and she feels your skin, your breath, your warmth, she feels something she hasn’t felt in a long time. She begins to feel an ache in her chest, a longing, a feeling that she needs to be with you or else she’d die of loneliness. She finds herself watching over you from afar, craving your touch and wanting you close to her at all times.

When you do accidentally touch her again, Castorice is absolutely floored. She can’t help herself and ends up grabbing your hands, committing the feel of your skin to memory and pretty much groaning in pleasure. The touch doesn’t even have to be erotic for Castorice to feel things, just holding hands is enough to get her all worked up.

Aeons, imagine actually touching her erotically though. I think Castorice would actually melt because the thought of sex felt so alien to her and now she had a pretty woman like you about to eat her out. She could die of happiness 😭😭

[grimm-writings]

Can I please request a namari x shy female dwarf reader.

The reader is shy but admirers namari from afar ( especially her muscles😍). And namari likes to make her flustered. caging her against the wall, flexing her muscles.

(THERE ARE NO NAMARI X READERS ANYWHERE 😭😢🥺 SHE NEEDS LOVE TOO!)

sweet thing

…ft! namari x fem! reader

…tags! fluff, headcanon format, reader is a dwarf

…wc! 1150

…notes! namari my darling my dearest!!!!!!!! my biggest flex is that her english va clocked me being extremely normal on main for their performance of her 😶 . twice . 

Is anyone immune to Namari let’s be real here.

She may not have the most stellar reputation because of her father, but that doesn’t stop her from thriving where she can.  Under Mr. Tansu’s employ, she’s been making a better name for herself!

Namari knows what she wants in a partner but she falls apart in actually trying to communicate that.  She can be rather shy herself!

When it comes to you, though, she’s determined to make you see that she’s serious about you.  Your anxiety overwrites her own!

…That doesn’t mean she won’t go to Kiki and Kaka and ask for advice on how to woo you.  She still is pretty shoddy at that.

Honestly, you were mortified when Namari suddenly approached you one day and started talking to you as if you were any other buddy she hung out with.  You hardly speak.

Sure, she’s noticed you staring at her from across the bar, and you tend to be somewhere around the corner when she’s in public, but honestly she couldn’t be mad at it!

How can she, when every time she shoots a big grin at you, you immediately flush red and hide your face from her?!  You’re just adorable!

Namari asking you out is her avoiding eye contact as she tries to ‘casually’ ask you if you want to get some dinner together.  Once you’re out of earshot, she’s pumping her fist and celebrating to herself.  She scored a cutie like you!

“So, see you tonight?” Namari cocks her head to the side as she smiles at you.  Trying to play it cool is tough.  She has no idea how others do it without exploding on the inside. Your smile is enough to make the butterflies in her stomach fly more freely.  “I… yeah, tonight!”  You nod and grin, turning on your heel to walk away. Once you’re a number of steps away, you stop as the sound of whooping and cheering fills the air just when select conversations die down in volume.  Loud and clear, you hear Namari celebrate asking you out. You turn to her, eyes bulging in embarrassment, and Namari mirrors your expression. She tries to brush it off as soon as possible by sending you a thumbs up.  “S-Sorry!  Just real excited!” You can’t help but giggle.  Who knew she’d be such a funny person too.  “As am I!”  You call back before returning on your way with a dumbstruck grin.  “As am I…”

Once you’re officially an item, Namari is a super loving partner!  She has her boundaries – such as no PDA around her employers – but when you’re in private this dwarf is all over you.

She gets over the sheepish, unsure wall she previously found it difficult to pass through the more comfortable she gets around you.

Yep, this woman loves to tease.  She’ll pick up on things she couldn’t before now that she has the knowledge you’re attracted to her.  Oh, you were staring at her so often because you like her muscles?  Aw, how cute?  Wanna touch?

Take all the time you need to stare as she pushes you up against the wall with a grin.

She’s still pretty easy to fluster herself if you know what to do though.

(LEGS.  USE YOUR LEGS, I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT.)

Her favourite nicknames to use for you are “my girl” and “sweet thing”.  Your hers, and you’re awfully sweet to boot!

Namari opens her arms wide for you as you run into her embrace.  Her hugs are always the tightest, warmest.  If she weren’t so gentle with you she would have noogied you by now. Instead, she instead wraps her arms around your waist and picks you up.  You squeak and cling onto Namari’s shoulders as she swings and twirls you around in a circle and then places you down on your feet again. Your giggles are always so musical to the other dwarf’s ears.  It’s great to be home. “So,” she releases a breath of laughter with you, “how’s my girl been doing while I was away?”

Since dwarves probably grow body hair pretty frequently, Namari and yourself probably take a lot of days to have self care days!

(I am whispering directly in your ear, reader.  Shave your legs in front of her.  Do that and she’ll be sent to another dimension and the higher ground will be yours.)

If you’re too shy to be too personal with her, Namari understands, but that doesn’t mean she won’t try and help you out of your comfort zone with baby steps.  She’s super encouraging that way!

…Though if you’re like me and prefer a woman with some body hair then you better let her know before these self care days!  There’s some motivation for ya.

She’s so endlessly proud of you if you do end up standing up for yourself.

But depending on what you do…

Namari is quite privy to how people tend to talk about her at this point.  Even from across the tavern she can sense the sneering and gossipy whispers of a group in a booth further away. You worriedly glance at the group and then back at Namari.  “Aren’t you going to do anything?” “No point,” Namari sighs with a shrug.  “I’m used to it.” She goes to take another bit of her drink.  You ball your fists together.  She shouldn’t be. Namari stutters in confusion at you when you push the barstool out and hop off, marching over to the group.  She’s so surprised she couldn’t take the chance to stop you. “Do you have anything better to do?”  You ask the group.  They stop to stare at you.  Namari is sure that you’re about to stutter and shy away from the glares you’re being given, but you don’t. One of the people speaks up, “what, like you aren’t hanging around her?  Drinking an’ hardly speaking with anyone else!” “Namari spent all day in the dungeon actually making a living for herself.  She deserves a break.”  You remain steadfast, crossing your arms.  Even if you’re smaller than a lot of other races, you still use your bigger proportions to your advantage.  “And you’re here just day drinking?  I don’t see any spoils, armour or weapons under your table…  Goodness, what might your families say?” You soon return to Namari’s side to leave the assholes to ruminate in guilt.  Your girlfriend’s mouth is in an ‘O’ shape as she keeps her eyes on you.  You glance up at her, your shyness returning.  “W-Was that too much?” “Too much?”  Namari repeats.  “Sweetie, that was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen!” “H-Huh?”  There you go, flushing red again. Namari takes your hands in her own, squeezing them.  “Whaddya know, you ended up being my hero today!” The grin she gives you is the happiest you’ve ever seen her.  She really loves you, you know?

[therabbitthatpostthings]

Live Arcane Reaction; Act 3:

Ep 7: Thank god the killmonger cut only exist in the hell dimension- don’t let them give you a fuck ass cut Ekko.

Powder my princess- IS THAT VANDER’S FINE ASS

OH MY GOD MILO CLAGGOR!!!

Jayce my princess I never doubted you. I knew the Hexcore fucked you up girl🫶🏾

Goddammit every frame in this show is a painting

VI MY POOKIE BEAR WHY

There is something so heartbreaking about the Bridge of Progress being used as an actual progression between the two cities. An olive branch. What could have been.

Jayce istg they do not want you to be happy-

BRO HE JUST WANTED TO PLAY WITH SOME MAGIC-

“Viktor is the mage” theory you might just have merit

Arcane artists I will see you in HELL for that Viktor/Jayce parallel of them literally building themselves up, morphing their damaged bodies to move forward.

Ekko and Jinx girls enjoy your SCRAPS-

WHAT WE COULD OF BEEN GODDAMMIT! FUCK!!!!!

Actual fucking tears in my eyes- FUCK THEY COULD HAVE BEEN SO CUTE- also the hard cut to Jayce and the Hexcore glitching like TV glitches as the universe breaks down.

MY BOY JUST WANYES TO PLAY IN SOME MAGIC!

Thank god he didn’t die in that universe too I would have crashed out Powder deserves to be- SHE KEPT THE CRYSTAL!?

Ep 8: oh thank god my Pookies is alive- IS ANYTHING SACRED- why the fit kinda eat tho….

I need everyone to understand I was SO happy about Mel being alive that I barely understood anything those mages said. I was just happy my babygirl is alive. GOD THAT MAKES THE FLOWER IMAGERY IN THE OPENING MUCH BETTER.

I just remembered Isha is dead... FUCK HIEMERDINGER DIED TOO 😭

Nooo Vander- NO VIKTOR- nice to know I am not immune to indoctrination.

Huck cannot catch a break omfg

LORIS MY BELOVED 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

Hi traitor- omg Cait cute hairstyle

The divorce is not going well for these two.

Jayce and Mel have not seen each other for god knows how long- DONT FUCKING YELL AT HER JUST CAUSE YOUR SITUATIONSHIP WENT SOUTH!

The throuple is back together and it’s TOXICCCC

I would just like to point out that when Viktor said this all started with Jayce, the parallels between Jayce and Ekko is still going. Like I could on for pages about these two at this point.

Fuck they made this Yaoi TOXIC-

FUCK THEY MADE THIS MAGIC TOXIC- is it wrong still stand by Viktor. Like I know he’s wrong but he’s so fine. Jayce and Viktor’s parallels, Jayce and Ekko- lord.

FUCKING FINALLY THE SISTERS ARE- well shit

Jayce and Mel, I never doubted this ship. I never doubted this relationship. I thought they were good for each, the rest of the world is just full of haters.

Sevika thank god they dumb bitches get on my nerves, I need someone with a functioning brain cell to lead us to salvation.

I’m gonna be on my fucking deathbed talking about the Zaunites joining Piltover to fight a battle they done have to, to save their homes- to make Progress.

Vi, it’s okay- OH MY GOD

Istg this show cannot- I’m- Ambessa my love I’m still reeling from the gays, give me a moment. VANDER MY LOVE NOOO! SINGED I'LL SEE YOU IN HELL!

Oh fuck- we’re in it now

Ep 9:

EKKO THANK GOD- most stressful 3 mins of my life.

Honestly I don’t trust these dumb bitches at all. Jayce and Vi are like 2 for 2 on losing fights. Ekko save us Ekko. I had hope on Sevika but her leaving is so real. She has been let down by these people so many times- GERT NOOOOO

LORIS NOOOOOO

Thank god fish guy made it

Ambessa rises from the ashes like a demon- I KNEW IT I KNEW THAT BITCH WAS A TRAITOR!

GOD IS A WOMAN AND HER NAME IS MEL MEDARDA!!!

YEA JINX! SEVIKA IM SORRY I DOUBTED YOU QUEEN NEVER AGAIN I SWEAR!

There is something so special to me about piano boy being the one to make the shot. Like the smallest thing can make a difference, anyone can rise to the occasion.

Of course Ambessa is one step ahead

I have issues, I still think Viktor is so hot rn.

I know my girls are getting their asses beat rn but let’s appreciate they let the girls get down and dirty in a fight. No pretty fighting- my bitches scrap-

Bow your heads. We lost THE bad bitch today.

Omfg there’s still like 20 mins left

I should have known this plan was gonna go to shit the minute Jayce and Vi sat next to each other.

Praying for the salvation for my girl, Sevika I promised not to- FUCK

Ekko please save these idiots- SAVE US EKKO.

Jayce understanding that he was the soldier in the ash like yeah dummy- DID IT CLICK YET- Please let Viktor be the mage, I will not let this theory die.

Fuck I wanna side against Viktor but he looks gorgeous in the Arcane.

Oop Jayvik nation rise.

EKKO THANK GOD THATS MY BOY SAVIOR

HE WAS THE MAGE THE WHOLE TIME-

I’m actually in tears this isn’t a bit, like I’m actually crying

Viktor I never doubted you, I never forsaken you, I never hated you, I never turned against you, I never thought less of you. He could have actually succeeded and I would have stood by him.

Oh damn Jayvik nation rise for real, I was just joking the first time-

JINX I NEVER DOUBT- FUCK

This show is so beautiful, every scene a painting. Mel in all noxian gear while still wearing her purple eyeshadow, a mix of her roots but also the promise to move forwards and look ahead.

Yall im so fucking stressed and there’s only 3 minutes left.

No one talk to me for the next few days- I’m going through some shit okay-

[midnight-black2]

Hiiii! I'd like to request Prompt 11 for Jann 🫣. Idk something probably after winning Le Mans; being all famous and stuff. Meeting reader on a neutral place like a snack bar or smthn. LMAO. Jann absolutely falling head over heels because reader is cute and nice and doesn't know him 😭😭😭😭

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing : jann mardenborough x reader

synopsis : genuinely just what the req says

disclaimers : honestly none, just some nice fluff which is not common for this blog lol

note : sorry this oneshot got delayed so much ! also i did not see that you put *snack* bar, and wrote it for an actual real alcohol bar instead, im so sorry lol. anyways, hope you like it regardless !

there was only one place jann could go to get away from everything. away from all the noise, people, and fans. don't get me wrong, he loved everyone who looked up to and supported him. however, there was a point where it all became too much.

the bar. the little one not too far from where he lived. the little hole-in-the-wall, quiet bar. there weren't many people that went there, and most of them were typically too drunk to even notice jann. either that, or they simply just didn't know who he was, which was refreshing. he didn't even go to drink, it was just that most of the time he needed a way out.

so that's where he found himself, walking through the door of the beloved bar. the owner greeted him. jann had been there so many times, that all of the staff knew who he was. jann waved, before taking a seat on a stool near the counter.

"hey, jann," noah, the bartender spoke.

"hi noah," jann said back. "slow night?"

"yep. its a good thing for me, though," noah replied. the two shared a small laugh. there was a moment of pure silence apart from the soft music playing in the background, before jann spotted in his peripheral a woman--you-- sitting and enjoying a drink. you were pretty, and it was odd to jann that you were sitting alone.

you glanced over, and met eyes with him. he almost immediately looked away, not wanting to seem weird, and also not wanting to draw attention to himself. you smiled softly. he seemed around your age, and he was cute. small tamed curls, caramel skin, dark brown doe eyes.

"hi there," you greeted, eyes scanning his body. he was tall, too. really the full package. his eyes darted back over to you, widening slightly at the fact that you had actually spoken to him.

"oh h-hi," he stuttered, blinking a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. he wasn't, a beautiful woman was sitting right next to him and did just say hi.

"here all alone?" you questioned, tilting your head to the side slightly. he cleared his throat, in a fruitless attempt gather himself, and some confidence.

"uh, yeah. how about you?"

"yeah, same. i come here for the quiet, and a good drink," you said with a soft smile. "would you like some company?" he grinned slightly, and nodded.

"yeah that would be...that would be really nice actually," he replied, looking down at his hands. you moved to the seat beside him, before taking a sip of your drink.

"so, what's your name?" you asked. he was a bit surprised, not entirely, though. you didn't seem drunk, so he hadn't expected you to disregard him. however, it seems most people at this bar were immune to the news or something because he could finally be a normal civilian here, without anyone knowing who he was.

"jann. yours?"

"Y/N," you responded, reaching out a hand for him to shake, and he happily did so.

"so, what brings you here, since you seemingly don't want to drink," you ask, taking another sip of your drink.

"oh uhm, i come here because it isn't so busy, or loud. i come to get away for a bit, you know?" he explains. you nod.

"i do know. i love this place. it's like the only spot where i can breathe," you said back, smiling. jann noticed you had nearly finished your glass.

"would you let me buy you another?" he queried, nervously.

"another drink? no no no, i couldn't possibly. this was expensive, i'd feel so bad."

"it's not a problem, really." and before you could protest again, he had already ordered another from the bartender.

"you're sweet, jann," you started, and he softly smiled at the compliment. "i like you."

"t-thanks. i...i like you too," he said back, fingers fidgeting a bit.

"so, what do you do?" you asked. he grew even more anxious that you'd find out who he was, and it would ruin this all.

"well uhm, i'm a race car driver..."

"what? like, actually? like you're not screwing with me?" you asked, unbelieving. he chuckled, and shook his head no.

"nope, not screwing with you, i really am, promise. sounds weird, right?"

"no, not at all. i totally meet race car drivers all the time at random bars. it's my typical friday evening." he laughed.

"well, what do you do?" he asked. you explained your job, with this sort of passion. he could tell you did what you loved, which made him fall even more for you. you had this glint in your eyes, and this huge smile on your face. he had never seen someone so beautiful.

"w-wow," he said, after you had finished speaking. you tittered.

"yeah, it's not quite race car driving, but it's what i love."

"no that's amazing. it really is," he replied.

"you're too flattering."

"well i...i think you deserve it," he said, and your smile widened. you gazed at jann, admiring him. he was so kind, and he had even gone out of his way to spend money on you. he was adorable, at the very least.

"thank you," you finally said, keeping your eyes on him. he swallowed.

"you're welcome." time had passed as you two were simply chatting about anything and everything. it was nearly eleven pm before you had decided to call it quits. jann was partially disappointed, but he didn't want to hold you captive or anything. he noticed you pull a pen from your purse, and write something on a napkin.

"call me sometime," you had said, before exiting the bar. on the napkin was written your number, with a heart next to it. he felt his heart flutter with excitement.

turns out the quiet little bar down the street had another pro, too; a kind, pretty lady named Y/N that spends some time there.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[ravangie]

Your AU has done what only the best can and that is made me appreciate the original art in a different light.

Because normally in Shrek I don't understand Charming at ALL. He's loud, entitled, obnoxious, and just a generally a very unpleasant person. I can't see him as anything but a villain, at best a pretty face for someone worse to hide behind.

But Princess Charming turns it from "ugh why the hell is everyone so enamored with this guy?" to "I am not immune to propaganda" and I think I get it now

Thank you so much omg!!!!! 😭😭😭

It is SO REWARDING to hear, you don't even know it!!!

I think the problem here is me, hahah. Even I am not immune to Princess Charming's well... charm.

I, like you, am also very much not of a fan of the original Prince Charming, so when the idea of Princess Charming first came to me, I thought it would just be a funny ha-ha character. Right up until I actually sat down to draw her. She had me ready to risk it all for her after the very first sketch.

After that, I couldn't help myself, but give her an actual story to tell, because I loved her so much and saw greatness in her. I wanted to see the roots of her flaws, see her motivations for her devious acts. And I also wanted to find some positive sides to her. And thus her lore kept expanding until it became what it is today. I gave her a lot of my own struggles (I'm very sorry btw, my baby Charming), explained some things through my own experiences. She's very much her own alive and complex woman today.

I think my biggest accomplishment with her - apart from making literally everyone fall in love with her - is giving her an actual character arc. It starts in Shrek 2, where her backstory and behavior is being presented and partly explained. But then it continues into Shrek The Third where she gets to find her own purpose outside of the inflicted by her mom and society one, fight her demons and go through personal growth and transformation. Love that for her 💖

Don't get me wrong, she's still spoiled and arrogant and whatnot, but in a more nuanced way. She's not being herself or making decisions out of nowhere. All of her actions have places from which they come.

Welp. I really am not sure how all of the above translates into art, but somehow I managed to put the love that I feel into this little drawn woman from my nogging.

I love her very much 🥺🤲💖

[ryctone]

Forget the updated ref, my girl needed an ENTIRE glow up 😭😭😭

Praline Cookie, finally!!! She's my first Cookie Run OC ever along with Hibiscus and I care her very much, now with a design I'm more happy with ❤️.

Her color palette looks familiar now tho... Mmmmh...

...

ANYWAYS-

Here are some facts, her lore remains mostly the same nowadays but just wanted to share;

She is part of a noble family that are secretly monster hunters called the Praline Order; her father named her after the Order.

Used to have a crush on Raspberry Mousse Cookie when young, but this one rejected her when she finally got the courage to confess to him. They are still friends however and both their Houses have a strong alliance.

Oh, she resides in the Hollyberry Kingdom.

Unlike what you may believe, she is in friendly terms with Rose Cookie.

Her weapons are called the Choco Crimson Daggers.

Since her father is the head of the Order, she is expected to take his place when the time is right... And that time will only come when she manages to capture and kill a certain siren.

Sachertorte Cookie is her mom but she and her father divorced when she was little, she still visits though.

Chocolate Bonbon Cookie is her aunt, and Praline considers her more of a mom than Sachertorte.

She actually cried the first time she had to kill a monster as part of a test her father instructed her to take.

As her noble woman persona, she always denies any suitors that want to marry her at parties.

The moon in her forehead is a birthmark and has nothing to do with Moonlight Cookie... Unless...? /J

Her family pretty much evolved advantages to neutralize almost anything a monster throws their way; thicker skin(dough) for claw attacks, being faster than the average cookie and are even immune to any kind of hypnotizion.

[msnihilist]

What's your reasoning for liking Ben X Eunice? Personally I've always seen them as siblings but I'd love to hear what makes you think of then in that way

You see them as siblings?? Anon, that is WILD considering the way they were making bedroom eyes at each other only five minutes after meeting.

As Kevin puts it:

"Dude. You're drooling."

To be fair, I am also not immune to seeing a gorgeous woman wearing my clothes. I'd have my brain leaking out of my ears 🙏

And the way that Eunice giggles after Ben's stupid ass falls in the water—

I love Gwen's expression here, you can tell that she knows EXACTLY what's going on and isn't enjoying watching this AT ALL. (Gwen, Ben had to be a witness to you keeping Kevin's sweaty handkerchief, you can deal with him and Eunice flirting for a day!)

Gwen and Kevin also refer to Eunice as Ben's girlfriend. Gwen saying, "this was supposed to be the three of us, not the three of us and Ben's new girlfriend," and Kevin jokingly saying, "man, you cannot keep a girlfriend."

Kevin also says, "She's way too good-looking for you," which I think is really funny, lmao.

Their flirtatious banter does a good job of being suitably-awkward for teenagers while also being just really earnest and cute.

"You're awful at flirting."

"Sorry, I'll stop."

"I said it was awful. I didn't say stop."

"Does it bite?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure that bear you were going to fight for me does."

Eunice is just really quick-witted and she does a great job of teasing Ben without being mean. There's just so much fondness oozing from her, it's so soft, I love it. She woke up in the forest with three strangers and knew two things: 1) her name, 2) that she loves this fuckin' dork who gave her his jacket.

"Come here often?"

Ben is literally the worst at flirting, I kind of love it 😭 NOT THE TIME, BEN!

I think it's so sweet that Ben was willing to fight Azmuth for her, too. He's only known Eunice for a day and is already ready to throw hands if someone disrespects her.

He's also quick to comfort her even though he clearly doesn't want Eunice to go. Eunice leaves him with a little parting gift, and Gwen asks:

"What did she give you?"

"Something beautiful."

Ben's answer isn't referring to just the flower, he's talking about their time together. It was brief, but beautiful, and a little part of him fell for her that night even though it was never meant to last.

They're not the craziest relationship ever, I just think there's a lot to like here with these two characters and I don't know why more people don't love Eunice. She's got a surprisingly distinct personality for someone with no memory and only two appearances.

[kuruna]

Doodled a bronze age Xanthos to go with my bronze age AZ from a little ago ^.^ people who hadn't met them before would often mistake Xanthos for being the older brother, and later would mistake Xanthos for being the king 😭

Look here if u wanna see my rambling about them ⬇️

When Xanthos and AZ were kids they often went exploring together... Xanthos was always a bit more reckless than AZ, which unfortunately led to the event that damaged AZ's leg and gave him his limp; he kinda had to shove Xan out of the way so he wouldn't be killed in a rock slide 😭 AZ never blamed Xan for his injuries... but Xan blamed himself. It changed the way he interacted with AZ- he decided that he no longer wished to depend on his brother lest he end up getting hurt again. He started taking on a lot of the roles that you may associate with an older sibling, and he became a lot more independent too... but it was to the point that he struggles to ask for help even now.

(also: Xan became jealous of Floette during this time 💔 when AZ was recovering from his injury she stayed with him pretty much the entire time, and was able to help him in a way Xan couldn't. I'll talk about Xan and Floette's Complicated Sibling Relationship some other time though!)

This also led to Xan becoming Very overprotective and hypervigilant, to the point where he treated AZ as if he was entirely incompetent. That's something dangerous to do with someone as smart as AZ is! It annoyed AZ too, of course. It's part of why he started to ignore Xanthos later on... always acting as if he knew what was best, and not allowing AZ to forge his own path. Even if Xan's demands were reasonable... it was all tainted by his pushiness.

A lot of their problems with one another could've been solved if they'd just talked to each other 😭 unfortunately by the time they actually did it was when they were both So Angry and Frustrated with one another that it just came pouring out in the worst possible way.

A fun fact: Xan got Immortality not while the Ultimate Weapon was in "life-giving" mode but while it was in "destruction" mode, so it affected him a bit differently from how it affected AZ or Floette. He has some health issues, most notably chronic migraines and a weak immune system. Being immortal doesn't stop people from falling ill 💔

You know in "Millennium Actress" where Chiyoko is playing in a film where an old woman tricks her into drinking an elixir of immortality. And when the old woman is asked why she did it she says something like "Because I hate you... more than I can bear! And yet, I love you... more than I can bear!" they're like that 😔

[youremyheaven]

https://www.tumblr.com/youremyheaven/754471721589997569/httpswwwtumblrcomyouremyheaven75444648981897?source=share

Gonna go find me a Venusian man. Only they can fix me now. Literally the perfect man for me I think would be a Venusian.

Me lmfao 😂🤭

Manifesting a healthy evolved Venusian man for u bbg, YOU DESERVE IT 🥺✨😩🤌🏻

I know I hype Venusian men up a lot etc but I just want to take this opportunity to say that they're not immune to being flawed.

It's just that I have more patience for a Venusian man's flaws than I do for other planetary types. At the end of the day, it's about what you're willing to put up with 👀

An imbalanced and immature Venusian man will be a womanizer, they have a crazy high libido but they don't enjoy sex for its own sake because of their Venusian nature BUT they will keep chasing that high repeatedly and it WILL corrode them from within.

Sex addicted Venusian men who sleep around always look like they're rotting

Venus naks are predominant in the charts of many many notorious sex offenders 😭😭😭💀 (including Harvey Weinstein 🤡)

Venusian men take their "I wanna spoil my woman" thing a little too far sometimes. It can feel like all they want is a pretty little doll to play dress up with and look at. They'll give you everything but it can feel empty if you're not in the right headspace for it.

Venusian men are very masculine men. If you're not comfortable with a guy with a heightened sense of masculinity, they're not the ones for you. They're kind of traditional in the sense that it hurts their pride immensely if they can't be the guy who protects and provides. If you're someone who is very independent, they're NOT the ones for you.

They'll cashapp you money and ask you to go get your nails done and many women will enjoy that kind of treatment but I can also see how many others will feel like they're being talked down to or something 😖

Venusian men fall for women who are feminine, a bit trad yet still freaky (the whole lady in the streets but stripper under the sheets bit was written by a Venusian man for sure) and they expect you to be that way always. This can be exhausting for anyone who isn't naturally inclined to be like that. All they want is for you to be pretty and be submissive enough to make them feel like a man 🫣so if you just run your life by yourself and act like you don't "need" him, you'll end up hurting his feelings.

The key is to never need anything from any man but to make him feel like you do 😈

They really really enjoy showing off their partner like she were a trophy. They take pride in being with their woman. But if you feel uncomfortable being a little bit objectified then Venusian men are not for you 🚫 they very much think of their woman as a status symbol and take immense pride in bagging beautiful women so 😬😬he may speak of you like a conquest at times

If you have a low libido, stay away from Venusian men bc they have to bang all the time 😩😩

Also they can be very cheesy and cringey. Their displays of affection can be very over the top at the most unwarranted of occasions.

I know that sounds like a good thing but bbg it gets tiring after a while cause it can feel performative and it is but Venusians just are performative by nature. They LOVE putting on a show.

If you can't stand a man being lowkey deranged and highly obsessed, texting you 24/7 and remembering every random detail (can feel stalker-y or like your space/privacy is being invaded) then Venus is not the way to go. They'll drool all over you and sing praises to you 24/7 to such an extent that you'll just be like "ok give it a rest king I've had my fill" lmao

If you're insecure about being complimented then a Venus man will be hell bc all they do is compliment their lady. I know some people think others complimenting you is fake etc and are disgusted by it but yeah you'll get the ick from Venus men that way 😬😬

Honestly Venus attracting Venus makes sense bc only a Venusian women could put up with all this and not feel exhausted and even enjoy it. Obviously everyone's a mix of influences and you absolutely can find a Venus man even without being Venusian but you should have a lot of Yin to be naturally receptive to their giving energy

[sillygoofybrain]

Avengers (Loki) brainrot

I saw a post one time that talked about the inhuman parts of the Avengers but it was a tumblr screenshot on Pinterest so I will probably never find it 😭

anyway. my turn.

Tony: Smells like a new computer at all times. like the fresh metallic scent ykwim. its bc of the arc reacter.

also when you hug him (if you're the right height) it has a sound

Bruce/Hulk: yk how some people are too pretty so god puts a visible vein in their forehead? yea. his turns green btw.

he can also do the hulk voice. like people make him do it at parties. he hates it

also you might get radiation poisoning symptoms if you're around him for too long. yeah sorry about that. he's sorry too

I like to think that he gets urges to break things just like the hulk does. like he'll be in the lab with Tony and he'll throw glass across the room and Tony's like ermm.. what was that... and bruce just goes and gets the broom with a stupid little sigh. the man is also an avid pop can crusher. and styrofoam cup picker ater. and bubble wrap popper etc etc

Vision: Smells like the air from a computer fan iykwim.

completely hairless. doesn't sweat. he does, however, overheat. he cant be in the sun for too long in the summer because he will start mixing up words and miscalculating movements and such.

social fumbles. just a little faux pas every once in a while. just enough to remind you that he's not quite human. almost. you would almost think it was autism (I'm projecting)

Thor: Static. electricity. everywhere. he will accidentally shock you. ik what you're thinking, "hes been alive for over a thousand years, I'm sure he has it under control by now??" and youd be right!!he does!! by asgardian standards. his pain tolerance is so high that he cannot feel himself shocking you. you will suffer. you will have staticky hair and clothes. beware.

earth animals act a little funky around him. I go by movie logic, so allspeak isn't a thing. cats fluff their tails, dogs whimper, birds flee, deer react like he's a walking headlight. do not take this man to the zoo

Natasha: Pain tolerance through the roof. if she stubs her toe she says oops/shit and keeps walking. and this only happens when shes drunk btw. otherwise she's far too aware of her surroundings to ever stub a toe.

speaking of her when she's drunk, I cannot explain to you how much alcohol it takes to get this woman even remotely intoxicated. she's lucky Stark's rich

she's got the uncanny valley stare down pat. she will give you the creeps for fun.

random things trigger her btw. she's just good at hiding it. trains, the color red, the letter M, The number 7, Fast movements. she's too introspective for therapy so she just talks to Clint.

Wanda: low empathy icon. I love thinking of her as a real previous test subject kind of person. like in her first movie. she has seen the worst of humanity and she doesn't ever want to be surprised ever again.

I also think she gets cramps in her hands after overusing her powers

Pietro: prefers to do stuff using his speed, but that doesn't mean he's immune to motion sickness

muscle cramps go crazy. twins

Steve: Stretch marks galore. he literally grew like 2 feet in 30 seconds. they healed quick bc super soldier serum but they def left scars

Muscle spasms. breaks glasses regularly

bonus:

Loki: Smells like whatever you want him to. it's part of the glamour.

6th sense for when people are lying. he's the good of lies, he can tell. Spidey sense type shit

heightened senses, even past asgardian standards. he was raised as a picky eater, but it was just because he could taste every separate flavor in the food

speaking of, he prefers plain food. not that he can't appreciate some seasoning, it just takes him a minute to process.

hngggughfhfjkhogdsr there's more in my brain but it's not coming out

idk I might make a part 2

update : FOUND IT

[musical-chick-13]

Why can't people ve normal about female characters 😭😭😭

I am ALLLLLWAYS asking this.

I feel like anything I say beyond this point is just. Repeating myself, so I'm going to link to a post I made about how I personally judge a work in regard to how it handles its female characters.

here it is

Wait, apparently I do have one last thing to say upon rediscovering this post. Which is that...yes, obviously some writers mishandle their female characters because of misogyny. They don't let them do anything, or they villainize them when whatever they did wasn't comparatively that bad when stacked against the other characters' actions, or they intentionally give them less backstory/glimpses into their inner emotional world/realistic human flaws that are important to the story, or they use them to make "commentary" on how all women are shrill or unreliable or manipulative or stupid or [insert sexist descriptor here]. I'm not disputing this claim, no group of people--including artists/creators--is immune from perpetuating misogynistic ideas and behaviors.

BUT!!!! This is. My God, it is NOT the case every time. There are plenty of people out there writing interesting women who do interesting things. There are plenty of romance arcs involving women (one OR more of them!!!) that are satisfying and compelling and narratively important, actually. Everyone is going to find some duds occasionally (see: how even I couldn't manage to finish Ore.shura and my continued hatred of Cit.rus, despite those both ostensibly putting objectionable, flawed female characters center-stage. And also my uh. Highly controversial takes on a certain Toy Movie, which I promise I will actually get into at some point.) But to act like it's just...a fact of life that NO female character is going to live up to her male counterparts.............for one, that's wrong. (Go watch Crazy Ex-Girlfriend!! Go watch Doom Patrol!! Go watch The Apothecary Diaries or Search Party or Kaguya-sama: Love Is War or, LITERALLY ANY NUMBER OF THINGS.) And for another...well. You know what "because of things out of my control, a woman in a given context can never truly reach the level of a man" sounds like right.

Honestly, I think that a big part of this is the continued refusal to look at things with nuance. You know the post I linked? That was actually about Kill la Kill. The show has...some pretty egregious issues (to the point where people are always surprised when I say that I like it). There are plenty of things about it that I would change. But you know what ELSE it has? A core cast of three interesting and entertaining female characters (and one genderless piece of sentient clothing) who drive the narrative, have dynamic relationships with other characters, and have distinct personalities and ways of looking at the world. People can argue night and day about whether this is a good show (I personally happen to think it is, overall, in spite of its flaws, but I am very much only one person), but the three main girls ARE good characters. It was clear Studio Trigger cared about them and saw them as worthy of the audience's attention, sympathy, and investment. I'm not going to call it a feminist masterpiece. But it DOES do a quality job at writing interesting female characters with clear arcs and emotional complexity.

I could also make a similar case about GoT. I'll be the first to admit this show has. God, SO many problems. Not the least of which is the way it shoehorns in all sorts of nudity and violence against women for literally no reason. But all the female characters are different. They have important effects on the story, they have realistic flaws, they have different and engaging relationships with the people around them and the world at large. If you cut any of them out (aside from...probably Ros, sorry girl), the story becomes incomplete. There are pieces that won't fit together, themes that won't get full commentary or crystallization. It's completely fair to say this show isn't for you, that the flaws it has outweigh the good, that you can't stomach the way it handles certain topics. What isn't fair is to say that the women in it are shallow or one-dimensional, or to solely reduce them to one or two qualities that the viewer finds annoying. The women are better than that (the story and its themes straight-up don't make sense if they aren't). Not being willing to recognize that fact is a you problem. (<-general "you," not "you" the anon)

A piece of media can have plenty of issues (even misogynistic ones) and still have interesting women worthy of analysis and consideration in it. A piece of media can handle some topics well while handling other topics poorly. A piece of media can be too flawed for one person while giving something incredibly valuable to another. But, as always, women enter the picture and any general attempt at nuance goes out the window.

[dokjas-lostselfpreservation]

*clicks your profile* OURPLE?!

so soft and pretty! :D

anyways hiiiiiii- *checks newspaper from like a week ago* YOURE GETTING MARRIED WHAT

💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐tosses bouquets at u CONGRATULATIONS

this calls for a gift. 🎁 wonder what it is?...

🐇bnuuy?! specifically a qiao ling bnuuy to go with ur rings... don't worry, she's a strong independent woman who knows how to take care of herself :) sometimes she'll even take care of you when she thinks you need it!

not much to update here I fear. I finished a book on the immune system by kurzgesagt's Phillip Dettmer and I feel myself becoming increasingly knowledgeable. even gave my parents whole 30+ minutes talks about immune cells and responses without even touching the book. twice. my mother may be traumatised

CONGRATS AGAIN?!?! that is it today farewell for now :D

*skips down the driveway joyously*

HEYYYYYYYYY

omg thank you 😭🤍 i have taken a liking to pastel colours recently, so i was thinking of doing a pastel theme msmsjsnsns

YES I'M GETTING MARRIED AHAHHAHAAHHAHA THANK YOUUU

omg thank youu *takes the gift* *opens it* *gasp* BUNNY???? she's soo cute oh my goshh and qiao long at that? this is world teasure I'll protect at all costs (tho don't think she needs protection, she's a girlboss afterall)

ohhh now then, to traumatize your parents in a way that you can't even be scolded upon is a flex lmaooo, honestly tho even I like books that give me random knowledge that may or may not be of use to me specifically, just makes me feel like the jack of all trades or smth

*looks at you go* damn, I hope she and her 'partner' becomes a thing soon (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

[sadboytournament]

ROUND ONE

Propaganda

Adriane Tepes/Alucard: Bro's mom got murdered and his dad went insane and tried to wipe out humanity, and Adrian had to kill him to save everyone. AND THEN he had to deal with people trying to revive his dad to cause even more deaths! Also he's immortal so he's outlived everyone he's ever cared about 😭

Jason Todd: (tw: sexual assault mention) the second robin, gets taken in by bruce after his abusive dad walks out and his mum dies of an overdose (and he also steals the wheels of the batmobile, king). bruce trains him to be robin and for his original run he was a pretty cute kid (with the occasional Angst Arcs that are pretty common w robin - special shoutout to jason finding out his dad was actually killed by two face and he just didnt know, and an arc where a woman that reminds him of his mum gets raped by a guy that iirc has diplomatic immunity i think?? or enough power to get away with it? anyway jason fucking kills him so not that immune ig) then death in the family happened and jason found out his mum isnt his biological mum so he sets off trying to find his bio mum, and eventually he meets her, but shes working for the joker and sells jason out to him. the joker then proceeds to beat jason with a crowbar and blows the building hes in up with his mum also inside it, killing them both. dc then does a fun thing for the next 20 years where they start treating jason like the '"""troubled""" """angry""" robin who was too reckless and was always going to end up dead. eventually dc brings jason back (as dc is wont to do), by having him wake up inside his coffin years after dying, dig his way out with his bare hands, and walk half-dead in the general direction of wayne manor until he's hit by a car and taken to the hospital (where all his says is 'bruce' over and over, and when asked who bruce is he responds 'my dad' and passes out) eventually he ends up in talia al ghul's care and is dunked in a lazarus pit to revive him completely, and he finds out not only is the joker still alive, but batmans also replaced him as robin. jason returns to gotham as red hood and has an honestly pretty slay arc where he taunts bruce by doing a better job of cleaning up gotham than him ngl. eventually it all culminates with him luring batman to a building where hes keeping the joker and telling b that his no kill rule is bullshit, and he shouldve killed the joker for taking jason away from him. he gives bruce an ultimatum thats basically if you dont kill me ill kill the joker, you gotta pick' and bruce chooses to instead disarm jason and save them both, and jason escapes. what follows is a lot of ups and downs for red hood comics (mostly due to the "angry robin" narrative dc writers have spun, making a lot of jasons appearances wildly ooc fights, lots of weird (tragically in character) cringefail behaviour, and this odd period where hes a natural redhead and his helmet is this ugly dome). itd be too long to list every jason todd sadboy moment from the last 20 years here but i do want to give a special shoutout to a currect story arc where bruce (who thinks hes being controlled by a 'perfect batman' hes got in his head) gets sick of jason's """reckless behaviour""" and fucking alters jasons brain chemistry so that whenever his adrenaline rises, he'll have a panic attack so severe hes basically incapacitated and can barely speak through his fear (the instant he escapes bruce's captivity he jumps into a burning building to save a little girl im SOFT for him!!). also second special shoutout to the jason todd in the arkham games who didnt even have the luxury of dying at the jokers hand, and was instead tortured for like 3 years, branded, beaten by p much everyone in batmans rogues gallery (and some of jokers goons dressed as batman), eventually jason breaks himself out only to find out that NOT ONLY has bruce replaced him, but it took the man like. a month. like jason wouldnt be thought dead for a long time, he was missing and bruce just went 'ill let this new kid adopt himself' ig? also theres a vr game in the arkham series where you can go into arkham asylum and hear jason screaming 🙃

[hime-bee]

(since i know you also have a mega breeding kink, here's some arknights men who i think would have breeding kinks large enough to fucking repopulate the entirety of terra,,)

silverash (wow how original) has such a massive breeding kink that it's not even funny. and he's entirely unashamed about it, huskily cooing at how lovely and adorable you'd be with your tummy all swollen, even when he's balls deep in you and pushing you well into your nth orgasm. each drag of his cock along your walls serves a purpose, acting as a way to remind you that he's the only one who'll ever be able to see you come undone, as well as the only one who can possibly knock you up. and with each load he fucks into you, soothing away your broken sobs from the overstimulation, he's getting pretty successful.

it wasn't młynar's intention to get hooked on the very risky thrill of knocking someone up, much less a woman much younger than him. but the way your cunt hungrily swallows up his dick aaallll the way down to the base and the loud moans you make when the tip keeps bullying its way against your cervix leaves him little room to deny the fact that he gets off on the risk. and, well, the fact that you keep trapping him in leglocks and forcing him to spill everything inside is also a factor. (also did you know that horse pp actually flares during mating to ensure the semen stays inside and the chances of the mare popping out a baby are increased?? hope that fact stays with you the next time you think of the honse uncle >:3c)

despite his well-disciplined and down-to-earth personality, even chong yue isn't immune to the thought of encasing your much smaller body underneath his and filling your pussy with his seed until it takes. plus, given his draconic roots, being endowed with two wonderfully sized lengths gives him all sorts of advantages, especially when you're babbling nonsense as he stretches you wider than you ever thought possible. doesn't really help that ling and nian are eager to become aunties, pestering their dearest brother and you at every opportunity they can get.

lee was nowhere near lowkey when it came to his breeding kink, and he's made it nothing short of becoming your problem. gifted with a lung's hemipenes and kept tucked safely within a cozy little vent, he takes every opportunity to fill you to the brim with the promise of making you into a mother. and of course, he played the 'senior citizen' card the first few times he refused to pull out, claiming that he's getting too old to remember (lies) or asking you to "go easy on this old man~" (lies 2x) but can you really blame him? it's not every day he gets lucky with someone as cute and eye-catching as you. plus, those kiddos of his certainly wouldn't mind another addition to their little group.

that charming smile of his did absolutely nothing to prepare you for the depravity that tequila hid behind it. having practically sweet-talked his way into your bed, tequila made short work of ensuring that you'd never look at another man but him. his need to knock you up stemmed from his canine instincts and his need to monopolize you, because all those stewing emotions he's kept buried certainly aren't doing his mentality any good. not that he'd care, especially when he's sunken his teeth into your shoulder as he unceremoniously pushes his knot into you with a lewd pop! and starts filling your pussy to the brim with plenty of his release until it finally takes.

(hope you enjoyed some lil thirsts for these goobers, bc i want all of them to mating press the shit outta me mostly młynar. i would've have added more but its like 4 am as im writing and im very eepy. but hopefully this made ur brain go brrrrrr ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭)

Lati, you didn't have to call me out like that-- 😭😭 You're 100% right tho, I really do and I'm so predictable LMAO

Which is prolly why most of the guys you listed, I've either written, or have a draft planned for 😭 (RIP to my Lee and Tequila fics that haven't seen the light of day smdh). ANYWAY. Continue to cook, chef!! 😩💦💦💦 I wonder what kinda situation the Doctor would have on their hands if more than two Operators were trying to breed em 🤔 Personally, I think they should take turns trying-

(Also, God bless you for providing me and my followers with these scrumptious little meals, it's so nice reading these from you, Lati 😭💞 Especially when all I can really do is read rn-) AND I WILL BE SAVING THESE TOO LOL

[vodika-vibes]

The clones when you call them pretty: you just like me for my looks and genetic superiority 😫😢🙄 (drama queens)

Me: yes that’s exactly correct congratulations you found the point. Look around you! Every other man around here is a 5 at most and a 0 in personality. Let alone have the skills and emotional capacity they do. And hey, evolution has finely tuned my feminine sense to select a mate with the best immune system so congratulations you passed the test for perfect man👍😭🤣

Lol, they can't help it. They're dramatic by nature, they have to be to be able to keep up with the Jedi.

Also, they pass the test for the perfect man, or woman, because Sister exists and she's amazing and I love her.

She could shoot me and I'd thank her and tell her I probably deserved it.