Sexy On Main uwu

(18+) will be fandom stuff, non fandom stuff, all that lol

[cloudcatssniff]

Just some rules:

Minors can interact but pls be aware that this is a space I will post nsfw and link stuff on, so if that makes you icky, click off.

I have my own kinks and I will hear no kink shaming in this household, for me or anyone else.

This account is not discriminatory: play nice.

This is a side acc! My main acc is @cloudstarcats so if you get a follow, it’s me! I only Reblog nsfw and snz to this acc however

[feverfcking]

Helloo, anon from before again ⁉️

If you're cool with requests... if you do scenarios, i feel like some sort of denial scenario would be epic... or a talkie of any kind tbh would be 🤭🤭🤭

I would go insane over just about anything though.. (i absolutely feel the being stuck in a rut thing though, I feel like my ideas are close to what youve already done but hopefully they dont feel like the exact same thing,,)

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HI ANON sorry this took so long!!!!! I hope u enjoy :D

cw: hitching, sneezing, swearing, talking, sniffling, coughing

AND i have so many wavs recorded, like probably six or seven. hopefully will be posting soon!

[feverfcking]

ahhhh okay uhhh uhhh

all of your hitches and gasps in between your sneezes are so blazing hot so I really am melting imagining you inducing relentlessly but still trying to announce every sneeze but like tripping over your words?? like saying you're gonna sneeze and apologizing and "watch out" and just trying to get it all out before the sneezes overtake you and FUCK I'm horny now lol

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can do baby!!!

pov I’m having a really embarrassing relentless sneezing fit next to you

[cloudcatssniff]

Thinking about being sick on Vacation.

Waking up after you arrive at your hotel with a sniffle and a bit of a sore throat, wondering if it’s the pollen or leftover dryness making you feel off from the plane ride. Stuffing a pack of tissues in your pocket right before you leave, slipping into a convenience store while you’re out to buy some over the counter allergy meds, maybe a nasal spray….

Waking up the next day feeling like you need more sleep. Throat scratchy, nose runny, and your muffling sneezes into your limited supply of tissues throughout the day. Having to pop back to the convenience store to buy more, hoping, praying, it will be enough. The congestion starting to settle in your sinuses says otherwise though… and you wish, for once, it was just allergies.

[cloudcatssniff]

Thinking of going on a date with someone and realizing they’re allergic to something in the restaurant but they’re so insistent on not ruining the date they keep denying anything is wrong—

Sniffling through ordering the entrées, stifling soft sneezes into their napkin that turn more and more wet, desperate, as the night goes on… after the date, leaving the restaurant with your hand in theirs because their focus is on holding back another round of itchy expulsions, offering to drive them home where you can better assist them in their tickly little situation…

[mollysnz]

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You’re cuddling your girlfriend who starts to have a pretty intense sneezing fit….. she must be allergic to something.. >~<

Haven’t done a scenario in a longgg time, definitely plan on doing more gf themed stuff soon! Includes lots of apologies, accidentally sneezing on “you”, and desperate/clingy whimpering

Played this back and woahhhh I sound a lot more uhhhh needy near the end (4:55) than i remembered… I was also kinda lightheaded around that time so I think that just made a few extra noises slip..

[cloudcatssniff]

I’m back~

Decided to induce the second I got the chance and it did not disappoint in how utterly intense it was lol. Hope you all enjoy :)

https://youtu.be/B4jj5vWVQ1k?si=ZqmPSHKt6HoKc8I_

Also I made the rest of my vids public, idk if the timing of them is messed up but they’re all pretty old actually, about two years old. I’m still figuring out wav making while busy with private life stuff, but here’s hoping I can upload more constantly ;)

[cloudcatssniff]

Post St.Patricks day drinking outside and I think I caught a cold lmao. Literally got home and a few hours after I took a nap I started sneezing, and my nose won’t stop running/stuffing. Been having to stifle them cause I was awake really late and didn’t want to wake anyone up, and I’m still sneezing now, though not very consistently sadly 😞

In better news tho- I was able to grab my chhinkni that I left back home (haven’t been able to have a good inducing session in months), so maybe I can see if my nose really is more sensitive now that I’ve got a bit of a cold 😏

Feels very fanfic-esc that after many hours outside in like, 38 degree weather, without a proper coat since the alcohol was keeping me warm, and then a walk in said cold back to the car, I’ve now got the start of a sneezy little cold :3

[snttyinleather]

This is the SNZ first work I've posted on Tumblr, so.. wow! I have an AO3, I go by hazzainleather on that one! I hope you enjoy this. Please leave a like or a comment! I enjoy feedback and encouragement!

These are my.. snz characters, I guess? I made them like YESTERDAY. And, HAHA, so stupid.. but one of the... main... guys... looks like.. Leonardo Dicaprio—WHATEVER MAN. III DOOONN'T KNOOOWW HOW TO DOOOO CONGESTED TEXXXTT. Might be bad.

ORIGINAL WORK (that's made like a young Leonardo DiCaprio movie), MALE SNZ!! Birdman hybrid, fantasy 1910s, mlm! Cuddling, fluff, soft. Sneeze fic, spelt out sneezes, mess, spelt out hitches, illness, fever, caretaking.. ish, AUTHOR HAS A THING FOR WINGS AND SNEEZES.

RAY / RAYMOND (named by Edwin): bird-man creature, like, torso-legs-arms ALL HUMAN LIKE.. except for the dark blue and raven-black feathers covering them, also his head is very normal, but around the sideburns area and facial hair area, feathers are merging into the neck. medium-length hair, naturally middle-parted, looks like Leonardo DiCaprio, BEAUTIFUL blue eyes, gorgeous wings, some facial hair, a bird-themed facial crest, large owl-like ears, and is amazed by animals and humans. And like.. EVERYTHING. Listened to enough people talk to develop a nice-sweet voice, sort of like bird mimicry. 1,000 years old. Young adulthood for his species! (Physically, a 21-year-old!) VERY PUPPY BOY CODED!! HE'S THE SWEETEST THING EVR! SUPERR SWEET!!

EDWIN HALL: (Haven't decided what he looks like yet, so you can think of what he looks like for now!) Human, humble writer in a solitary home. Soft and sweet only to Ray.

"Bless you," Raymond murmured, his voice warm and hushed against the pillow. The sudden dampness on his shoulder didn’t bother him—not when Edwin was curled so tightly against his back, arms wrapped around him like he was something precious. The feathers along Raymond’s neck fluffed slightly at the contact, betraying his contentment.

"ihHih.. Hih'tschiew! Itschiew! Hh.. HihH.." Edwin buried his face deeper into the crook of Raymond’s shoulder, the damp warmth of his breath ghosting over feathers and skin. His nose twitched violently, another hitch catching in his throat before he barely managed to turn his head away—"Hh'tschiew!"—too late to keep from spraying Raymond’s wing. "I'mb so sorry."

Raymond twisted slightly, his wings rustling against the bedsheets as he craned his neck to peer over his shoulder. Edwin’s flushed face was half-buried in the mess of feathers along his scapula, eyes squeezed shut as another shudder worked through him. "Hh-hih’TSCHH!" The sneeze bent him forward like a bowstring, his grip tightening reflexively around Raymond’s waist. A damp spot darkened the cobalt plumage where Edwin’s nose had pressed a moment too long.

Raymond let out a soft chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest where Edwin's fingers had curled into his feathers. "You're adorable," he murmured, shifting just enough to nudge his wing against Edwin's trembling frame. The damp patches from sneezes were already cooling in the morning air, but Edwin's warmth seeped right back into him, his body molding against Raymond's spine like he belonged there. "Hh-hih’tschh!" Another wet sneeze hitched out of Edwin, his breath stuttering against Raymond's nape—hot, then damp, then gone in a shaky exhale. Raymond could feel the way Edwin's nose scrunched against him, the twitching pressure before each sneeze like a little earthquake under his skin.

Edwin’s breath hitched again, a sharp little gasp that made Raymond’s feathers lift instinctively. “Hh’ihh… Hh’tschh-iew!” The force of it sent Edwin jerking forward, his forehead bumping against Raymond’s shoulder blade. Raymond could feel the way Edwin’s nose wrinkled against him, the damp heat of his breath fluttering over his feathers like a sigh. "Hoooh.. Mmngh."

"Bless you again," Raymond cooed, his wings flexing slightly as he twisted fully onto his back, pulling Edwin with him until the man was sprawled half-across his chest. Edwin's nose was pink at the tip, his breath hitching in tiny, desperate little gasps between each sneeze.

"Edwin," Raymond murmured, his fingers tracing idle patterns along the man's spine, feeling each tremor that preceded another stifled sneeze. "You're thinking too hard. I can hear it." "Thinki'g?" Edwin's voice was muffled against Raymond's collarbone, the words thick with congestion. He sniffled wetly, rubbing his nose into the feathers beneath him with a quiet, defeated whine. "Snnrf! Ugh. I'b dot thinki'g—"

"—Hh’ihTSCHhh!" Edwin sneezed violently into Raymond’s feathers, his whole body jolting with the force of it. "I'b thikin'g thad you're too pretty for this," he grumbled, his voice hoarse and nasal. His fingers curled tighter into Raymond’s plumage, like he was afraid the bird-man might vanish if he loosened his grip. "Sobeone like be sdeezi’g all over you… id’s ridiculous."

Raymond's wings arched slightly, a protective curve sheltering Edwin's shivering frame as he pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "You're ridiculous," he murmured, the words vibrating through Edwin's temple where it rested against his collarbone. His fingers carded through Edwin's hair, gently working out the tension knotting his shoulders, each stroke punctuated by Edwin's hitched breaths, the way his nose twitched against Raymond's throat like a rabbit sensing danger. "Hh-hih’ihh…" A pause. Edwin squeezed his eyes shut, his whole body tensing as if he could will the tickle away. Raymond grinned. "Just let it out, sweetheart."

Raymond's grin widened as Edwin's breath hitched again—that sharp, telltale intake before another sneeze tore loose. "Hhh'ihh—TSCHHHH!" Edwin barely managed to turn his face into the crook of Raymond's arm this time, the force of it sending a shiver down his spine. His fingers clutched at Raymond's feathers like a lifeline, knuckles whitening as he whimpered.

Raymond’s grin faltered the moment Edwin’s whimper hit his ears—a sound so small and miserable it might as well have been a dagger to his chest. The playful teasing evaporated instantly, replaced by something far more urgent. His wings, which had been arched in lazy amusement, now folded around Edwin’s shivering frame with a protectiveness that bordered on possessive. “Oh, love,” he murmured, his voice dropping into something tender and hushed, like he was coaxing a wounded bird into his palms.

Raymond’s entire body softened the moment he felt Edwin’s breath stutter against his collarbone—not the playful, fluttery hitch of before, but something ragged and exhausted. His wings, which had been half-spread in lazy amusement, now folded around Edwin’s trembling frame with a fierceness that surprised even him. “Shh, shh,” he murmured, his voice dropping into something low and velvety, fingers abandoning their idle tracing to cup the back of Edwin’s neck instead. His thumb brushed the damp hair at Edwin’s nape, feeling the feverish heat radiating off him. “You’re burning up,” he breathed, more to himself than Edwin, his chest tightening.

Raymond's wings tightened instinctively, cocooning Edwin against his chest as if he could shield him from the fever wracking his body. The damp heat of Edwin's forehead pressed into the hollow of his throat, each labored breath sending a fresh wave of concern prickling through Raymond's feathers. "Oh, Sweetheart," he whispered, lips brushing Edwin's temple, "when did this start?" Edwin only groaned in response, his nose twitching violently against Raymond's collarbone before he barely managed to turn his face away—"Hh'ihTSCHH!"—the sneeze spraying weakly over Raymond's wing.

Raymond's fingers stilled against Edwin's back, the playful teasing dissolving into something heavier as he registered the unnatural warmth radiating through Edwin's shirt. "You're ill," he breathed, the realization tightening his throat. Edwin sniffled miserably, his body curling tighter against Raymond's chest as if seeking shelter.

Raymond's wings flared open in sudden determination, nearly knocking over the bedside lamp as he scrambled upright. "I'll—I'll get you that.. uhm, that thing," he stammered, feathers bristling with frantic energy, his talons clicking against the hardwood floor as he pivoted toward the door. "The uhh.." His brow furrowed, crest feathers lifting in bewilderment. "You know. The little white—" He mimed swallowing a pill with exaggerated gulps, his free hand flapping uselessly in the air.

"The- the thing," he repeated helplessly, twitching in distress. His fingers flexed at his sides as if he could pluck the right word from the air. "The tiny… white… help pellets?" Edwin's laugh was muffled against the pillow, but the sound still sent Raymond's feathers fluffing with delight, even as his cheeks burned hotter than Edwin's fever.

Edwin's laughter was a weak, congested thing, but it still made Raymond's feathers fluff up like a startled barn owl. "The paracetamol is in the left cabinet in the bathroom," he managed between hitches, his voice thick but fond. His fingers twitched against Raymond's wrist, as if he wanted to grab him but didn't have the strength. "Hh'ih—tschh! Ugh. The little white help pellets, as you so eloquently put it."

Raymond's wings gave an agitated flutter, sending a loose feather spinning toward the ceiling. "Right! The—the paracetamol," he echoed, as if testing the unfamiliar word on his tongue. His talons clicked against the floorboards again, this time with purpose, making his way to the bathroom. Left cabinet.. Left cabinet.. What's left again?

Raymond's talons skidded to a halt in front of the bathroom mirror, his reflection staring back at him with wide, panicked eyes. "Left," he muttered, tapping the cabinet door with a clawed finger. "Left is—this one." The wood groaned as he yanked it open, revealing an assortment of human oddities: a half-empty bottle of cologne, a tangle of hair ties, and—aha!—a small box labelled in Edwin's neat handwriting.

Raymond's talons fumbled with the box, his grip clumsy with urgency. The pills rattled inside like dried seeds—tiny, white, and hopelessly confusing. One or two? His crest feathers lifted in distress as he scanned Edwin’s scribbled instructions, the letters swimming before his eyes. "Take two for fever," he mumbled, mimicking Edwin’s inflection poorly, as if repeating it might magically make sense.

Raymond nearly dropped the box in his haste, his wings twitching as he snatched two pills into his palm. They felt impossibly small against his talons—fragile, like something that could vanish if he breathed too hard. He hesitated, staring at them. Was this really enough? Humans were so delicate, their remedies so… tiny.

Raymond's wings twitched with nervous energy as he hurried back to the bedroom, the pills clutched precariously between his talons. The sight of Edwin curled miserably under the sheets—nose red, eyelids heavy—made his feathers puff up in distress. "I got them!" he announced, voice cracking with too much enthusiasm. He practically tripped over his own talons in his haste, sending one pill skittering across the floorboards. "No!" He lunged after it, wings flaring for balance, only to knock his forehead against the bedside table.

"Ray! Ray, calm down. I'mb not dyi'g, baby." Edwin's voice was a hoarse whisper, but it sliced through Raymond's panic like a knife through fog. The bird-man froze mid-lunge, his forehead still pressed against the bedside table, one wing splayed awkwardly across the floor where he'd nearly faceplanted chasing the escaped pill.

Raymond blinked at Edwin’s words, his crest feathers flattening in slow realization. "You aren’t dying, darling?" he echoed, voice small, as if the concept had never occurred to him. The remaining pill slipped from his talons and landed soundlessly on the rug beside Edwin’s discarded socks. His wings sagged with something between relief and embarrassment. "But—but you’re hot," he protested weakly, gesturing at Edwin’s flushed face.

Edwin’s laugh was more of a wheeze this time, his breath hitching before he could stifle it into Raymond’s feathers. “Thad’s fever, you ridiculous bird,” he mumbled, his fingers uncurling from their death grip on Raymond’s plumage to weakly pat his cheek. “Dot exactly fatal.” His nose twitched violently, and he barely managed to turn his face away before another messy “Hh’TSCHhh!” rattled out of him, leaving him slumped bonelessly against Raymond’s chest.

Raymond’s wings drooped further, the tips of his feathers brushing the floor as he stared at Edwin with wide, liquid-blue eyes. “But you’re hurt,” he insisted, his voice cracking on the last word like a fledgling’s first cry. His talons scrabbled against the floorboards as he crawled back toward the bed, abandoning the lost pill in favor of pressing his forehead against Edwin’s burning temple. “You’re—you’re all wrong inside. I can feel it.” His breath hitched, warm against Edwin’s skin, his fingers trembling where they cupped Edwin’s jaw.

Edwin's fingers trembled slightly as he took the pills from Raymond's talons, his throat working around a weak chuckle when the bird-man practically shoved the glass of water into his hands next. "Easy, easy," he rasped, swallowing the bitter little tablets with a grimace. The water spilled over his chin—Raymond's anxious grip had tilted the glass too far—but Edwin didn't complain, just swiped at the drip with the back of his hand and offered Raymond a wobbly smile. "See? All better." His voice was still thick, nose twitching dangerously, but he pressed his forehead against Raymond's collarbone before another sneeze could betray him.

Raymond's wings shuddered as he gathered Edwin closer, his breath hitching when Edwin's feverish skin scorched against his own. "You're lying," he whispered, voice frayed at the edges. His talons traced the curve of Edwin's spine through the thin fabric of his shirt, counting each vertebra like a prayer. "Hh'ih—tschh!" Edwin's sneeze was muffled against Raymond's sternum, wet and exhausted. The bird-man's grip tightened instinctively, his feathers flaring to cocoon them both in a shield of cobalt and raven-black.

Raymond's wings folded around Edwin like a living blanket, his feathers fluffing up instinctively to trap the warmth between them. Edwin sighed into the crook of his neck, his fever-hot breath tickling the delicate down feathers there. "Stop fussing," he mumbled, though his fingers curled tighter into Raymond's plumage, pulling him closer. The bird-man chirred softly—a sound halfway between a purr and a contented coo—as he nuzzled the top of Edwin's head, inhaling the scent of sweat and chamomile soap tangled in his hair.

"You're so worried about me. Being a mother hen, so to speak." Edwin's voice was muffled against Raymond's collarbone, but the teasing lilt was unmistakable—even if it dissolved into a congested sniffle halfway through. Raymond's feathers bristled indignantly, his wings tightening around Edwin's shivering frame like a living fortress. "I am not a hen," he huffed, though the effect was ruined when his talons fussed with the blankets, tucking them tighter around Edwin's shoulders.

"I dnow, dear, you've made id very clear before." Edwin's voice was thick with congestion, but the amusement threading through it was unmistakable. He pressed his forehead harder against Raymond's collarbone, letting out a shaky exhale that ruffled the feathers there. "I love you.."

Raymond's feathers fluffed up instantly at Edwin's words, his entire body stiffening like a startled fledgling caught mid-hop. "Iiii—" His voice cracked, high and uncertain, his talons flexing against Edwin's back as if searching for the right rhythm to match Edwin's easy affection. "Iiii loove you as well..?" The words tumbled out in a clumsy mimicry, rising at the end like a question. His brows lifted hopefully, eyes wide and liquid-blue in the dim light. "That's how you say it, right, sweetheart?"

"Yes. Good job, love."

There might have been personality switches throughout, and that is because this is my FIRST FIC WITH THEM! I WAS FIGURING OUT THEIR PERSONALITY THROUGHOUT THE FIC 😭😭😭 Hope it was alright regardless? Leave a like, or some commentary if you can! 🥹

[cattewife]

out of context snippet from the same au as [ this post ] (where h/ual/ian are caretakers for multiple mer versions of themselves, including: canon versions ("crimson rain" and "gege"), princel/ian and xiao h/ua ("d/ianxia" and "san l/ang"), and the two featured here: calamityl/ian and wu m/ing ("calamity" and "wu m/ing")

fandom: m/xtx t/gcf (wildly au at this point lmao) rating: T word count: ~900 contains: wul/ian, nonhuman (mer) sneezes, unconventional snz spellings (gill sneezes), allergy sneezing, mess cw, gillplay (fingering) (inducing)

[ pls do not reblog to non-snz/kink blogs, ty! ]

===

Wu Ming wakes up with gills swollen, raw and almost sore, passing water through only sluggishly. Great. So it's going to be that kind of day. The brief period where the blooming of the big trees rooted in the tank edges and the pollen season of whatever the hell else that bothers him in the fields around the farm overlap is always rough.

As though to confirm that thought, his swollen gills start tingling with an insistent itch. Wu Ming doesn't have a chance to do anything-- his gills clamp and his breath hitches thickly in, in, in--

"hhHHHHh-- eXXCHHhhwww'hh!!!" The sneeze catches thickly in the ooze coating his insides in response to the pollen in the water, bubbling sullenly and leaving a thick mess slicking down his throat into his clavicle. Ughhhh. The throat gills always get the worst of it, rakers clogging with mucus and making Wu Ming feel like he's choking until he manages to swallow it all down or cough or sneeze it out.

"Good morning," Calamity says, sounding far more awake than Wu Ming and amused. Good. Amused is always better than disgusted (or worried, which makes Calamity frantic and mean with it). Wu Ming groans dramatically in response, to make Calamity laugh. Wu Ming loves his laugh; soft and a little broken still, but all the more precious for its return. The farm and the pod has given them so much.

"hh! iHHHH?! heh, eh, eh, eHHHH?! hHnh'ixXXSCHHhhwwiuwh!! Ah, fuck," Wu Ming says, instead of the greeting he'd meant to. Even if the farm does come with perfidious inland pollens that settle on their tank and concentrate in the water, making Wu Ming's poor nose and gills go crazy every spring.

"Hmm, medicine first today, i think, Xing'er." My star, Calamity's name that he chose just for Wu Ming; just for them. They don't share their private names even with the rest of the pod.

"a-Yue," (my moon), Wu Ming protests, because he's still sleepy and comfortable despite the stuffy, drippy gills and the persistent feeling lurking in them like he's about to sneeze again.

"You should see yourself," Calamity says, not ungently. "Every time I think those gills can't go pinker..."

"You can't really see that," Wu Ming says after a moment. It's dark in the underwater caves where they sleep; they're using the senses of the deep to perceive each other here. Touch and smell, the chemical and electrical signals in the water, pressure, and a kind of dim thermoceptive vision catching on movement.

"Hmm, no, but I can feel it." Calamity runs a hand up Wu Ming's waist to brush cool fingers over Wu Ming's gills (this doesn't mean they're unusually warm, he thinks stubbornly, Calamity's hands are always cold). One finger dips inside to caress the slick frills inside and Wu Ming shudders at the intensity of the tickle that shoots up his whole side at that.

"a-Yu-ehh-EH!" Oh, no. Calamity isn't taking his finger out, even as Wu Ming's operculum clamps strongly down on him, and Wu Ming can't stop hitching, the pressure never building up in his lungs quite enough to sneeze properly without that seal.

"eH- heH- eh- aHh-HHHH! ah, aH, A-UHHH? UHH-huh-! huH? a-ah-hah-aH! Yu-uH, HH! UHHH? HISSH- hIH-IH-IH- ISSH- WWSH-- HI-EHHH--"

Finally taking mercy, Calamity extracts his finger from the clamp of Wu Ming's gill and pets it closed. Wu Ming builds up in a dramatic series of gasps and sneezes hard, "hhhHHHHH'wWHSXXZCHHHH'ngt--hhh," water pressure exploding out of his gills and finally taking some of the burning itch with it.

A dull prickle remains to remind him that even that water had pollen in it, too, and the sensitive flesh of his gills do Not Appreciate It.

"Yes?" Calamity says, in a tone that Wu Ming can hear the raised eyebrow in.

Wu Ming capitulates, if only because he's in no state to serve his love like this. Although he can already tell it's going to be one of those days where the medicine the humans Xie Lian and Hua Cheng found for him is going to struggle to make much of a difference.

///

"Oh, dear," Xie Lian says, when he sees him. Wu Ming stubbornly refuses to look down at himself, accepting the little pill and taking it with a swallow of tank water. He knows his gills are probably flushed and goopy; he can feel them more acutely when they're clamped closed in the air. Breathing air is also making his nose tingle threateningly, which he hates. His nose has no business getting involved in breathing, no matter how much San Lang says it's better for breathing air. That's for long, slow draws of water over sensitive olfactory passages. Not- oh god--

"eh-heh- EH- HEH!" Air pulls itself in through his mouth, inflates his lungs-- "hHH'EDHt'zSCHHiuuhh!!" --and rushes itself roughshod back up and out, scraping through his throat and nose instead of bursting out of his gills like normal. It forces the contents of his sinuses out accordingly.

"Fu'dgck!" Wu Ming curses, pinching the offending mess away from his nose and trying to rub the remaining itch away while he's at it.

"Hmmm," Xie Lian says. "I'll have San Lang," (his nickname for the human Hua Cheng, no matter how confusing it gets with their podmate's name.) "fire up the RO/DI system. I think you need an extra water change."

Calamity nods perspicaciously. This was probably part of his plan in ringing for Xie Lian as though they were out of meds instead of just grabbing the bottle left out for them.

\FIN

---

*"my" star and moon are not exactly the correct translations of their chosen names but look, NARRATIVELY--

[sylviluna]

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Tw: snz ofc, very vocal and moany sounding hitches, possible quality loss from having to downsize the file

stark contrast to my last post, but I remembered a request to post some ragweed sneezes a while back so here's a recording I did a few weeks back I think? Bit different sounding than my normal sneezes - ragweed really brings out the big and intense sneezes for me sorry if thats not yalls jam lol

[lake-snz]

Attempting Some of Your Favorite Sneezes (f)

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I’ve been enjoying reading about and seeing everyone’s preferences via the poll and your comments! There are still many days left for the results to sway, but Out of Control Sneezies seems to be very popular so far!

In this wav, I decided to start out with letting out some breathy sneezes. The vocalizations are always fun and increase my excitement for the whole experience. Occasionally, I hear women sneeze this way in public and imagine how satisfying they must feel. They sound and feel incredible.

Afterwards, I thought about what would happen if I could not let out my sneezes and instead needed to suppress them. During this, I go on a bit of a narrating diverge, lol. If you’re not into that sort of thing, skip to the end for more very wet releases.

Rather than using the tissues I had close by, I chose to allow my last sneezes come to fruition in my prayer-style hands. This resulted in quite a bit of mess. All those stifles caused my nose to itch for relief! And relieving those sneezes were.

[sneezydreamgirl]

In Which a Witch Catches a Wizard’s Cold

Thank you so much for all the love on my last fic! I wanted to do a follow up piece for it. I’ll likely write one more cold-fic for Howl too because I love writing his dramatics 🤣 In Which a Witch Catches a Wizard’s Cold: Sophie comes down with Howl’s cold, and Howl is pleased about it. If only she would admit it!

There came a time in every wizard’s life when he would be bested by a more powerful match. Whether it be in conjuring, shape shifting, or spells, it was the natural order of things to eventually be eclipsed by another.

Howl could not accept, however, being outdone by his stubborn wife.

Sophie Hatter — newly discovered witch, former hatter, and owner and keeper of the wizard Howl’s unruly heart — had caught her husband’s cold. It had been inevitable, he knew, and he could hardly hide his joy when he discovered his wife discretely blowing her nose and drinking a gallimaufry of magic herbal tinctures (which, she should know better than to do, because there was no cure for a cold). She was sick!

He was pleased as punch. Sophie Hatter, who had claimed she wouldn’t catch his cold. Sophie Hatter, who had made so much fun of her husband for feeling pathetic and profoundly pitiful with a cold. Sophie Hatter, who now had come down with his same cold, and was hell-bent on ensuring she did not show a singular sign of weakness to her husband, out of complete and utter stubbornness. 

No, he would not be outdone by her. He would get her to admit she was sick, allow him to take care of her, and then he could breathe his favourite words: I told you so.

It began when they were sat at the breakfast table. Howl was reading his newspaper, and Sophie was reading a spell book. When she turned to the side and stifled three sneezes into her hand — h’igXT! hn’xjt! hh—kng’tuh! — he perked up immediately.

“Something bothering you, Mrs. Sneeze?”

“It’s dusty in here,” she replied in a clipped tone. “You should clean.”

He bit his tongue. “Well, bless you, anyway.”

Then he returned to his paper, and Sophie to her book. Only, five minutes later, she was sneezing again. Her poor nose had not been satiated.

“ih’djSH—!” Then she pinched it off, head bobbing into her hand, and emerged with a breathy, “-guhh…”

He put his newspaper down. “It’s incredibly hard to read with you making so much noise. There must be something bothering that big nose of yours. A cold, perhaps?” 

She glared at him, then stood from the table. “I’m going out.” 

He all but leapt to his feet, rattling the furniture and their breakfast laid out before them. Out? She couldn’t go out. She was sick! 

“You’ll make your cold worse,” he protested.

His wife left the kitchen, to the front door. He followed. “I don’t have a cold,” she said. She gathered her shopping basket and her hat.

“Oh, you—“ he wagged his finger at her. “Your shining dishonesty will not be your salvation. I have never met someone as pig-headed as you, wife.”

“That’s odd,” Sophie mused, “as you often gape at yourself in the mirror several times a day.”

This woman was a master at stroking his ire, and she was in top-form today. 

“Admit that you’re ill!” he screeched. He stood in before the front door, blocking her. “You have caught my cold, and you feel terrible, and you need your husband to look after you. Admit it.”

Sophie looked like she was ready for a fight, as always. A light breeze fluttered through the open window beside them and rustled her pretty hair. It was a beautiful day outside, the air fresh from spring rains, and she was determined to do her shopping, even if she felt run-down and cold-ridden.

“Not everyone is as miserable and useless as you when they’re sick. Which— hih…“ She paused, suddenly, and turned to the side. Her features pinched up and he heard her breath hitch.

But, to his disappointment, she overcame whatever sneezing spell she was about to suffer through, and she continued, just as obstinate as before.

“— which I am not. Move aside. I need to go to the market so I can make a spell for Lettie.” His wife sniffled and Howl felt a protective heat boil inside him.

“Bother Lettie, you are sick—“ But before he could keep rattling on at her, she ducked past him, and charged forward into the beautiful spring day outside. She wasn’t even wearing a jumper!

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the front door. His mind raced with evil, nefarious solutions to break his wife’s iron-clad will. 

“Don’t do what I think you’re going to do, Howl,” Calcifer chimed in from the hearth. “She won’t like it. A scorned witch is a dangerous witch.”

“Bother you, too. I’m tired of everyone acting as though they know better than me,” Howl growled. “That woman does nothing by halves except think.”

Then, he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose, concentrating. 

Magical energy began to thrum through him like a war drum, beating faster and faster in line with his ever-racing heart. His skin tingled. Calcifer gave a frustrated groan and sunk deeper into his logs.

“Here we go again,” the fire said. 

Outside, dark, ominous rain clouds formed across the beautiful blue skies. Lightning cracked and thunder boomed as rain suddenly began pouring down in sheets. 

Howl opened his eyes and smirked. It wouldn’t be long now.

He began to count. Three, two, one…

And the front door opened again, presenting a dripping wet, hard-breathing, sniffling Sophie Hatter. 

He was pleased his plan had worked. Now she would feel just as awful and cold as he did, and beseech her husband for a hot drink, and he would tend to her in bed and remind her of what a good, kind man he was, and then he could tell her off for ever thinking she could get the better of him.

She began to squeeze water out of the bottom of her skirt, then sneezed — “h’iCHhhu…!” — quietly, softly, behind her hand. 

“Oh, get a bit damp out there did you, Mrs. Plague?” Howl taunted. He leant down until he was (large, angular) nose to (small, straight) nose with his wife. “Perhaps you should go lay down, before you make your cold wors—“

He was at once cut off when Sophie shoved her way past him, stomped up the stairs, and slammed the door. He heard drawers flying open in their bedroom. Some more stomping followed by even more politely muffled, feminine sneezes. 

Then, his wife emerged from the stairwell in a new dress and his trench coat, holding a great big umbrella over her shoulder. He was worried she may hit him with it. It was the one he took when he went golfing with his sister’s husband, larger even than Sophie. It was heavy, and bulky, and how she would manage with it and all her shopping, he had no idea.

“I promised Lettie I’d get her this spell by tonight,” she explained. “I’m going out, Howl, no matter how hard you try to stop me.” Then she was gone out the door, leaving only the echo of the bang. 

“I told you so,” said Calcifer. He would be the only one saying it. 

Howl kicked over a chair. “Curse everything! Why does my heart belong only to the most stubborn of women? Imagine if I had married someone docile as a lamb, how easy my life would be! Instead I married a tigress, and I am constantly paying the price,” he moaned, and picked up the chair.

Despite the storm still raging outside, he shoved on his rain coat and, with a sweep of his hand over his body, conjured himself into a cat.

Following his wife was much easier as a feline. He could scope walls and rooftops, watching her from afar. He became drenched from his own thunderstorm spell, though he cared little, as at least Sophie was dry beneath the umbrella.

In between desperate, cold-ridden sneezes, she struggled with the umbrella here and there, especially when it blew opposite in the wind. When he’d finally had enough of watching her plight, he magicked the umbrella to float obediently beside her so she didn’t have to hold it.

She seemed shocked when it simply began floating above her. But he knew his wife very well, and if she didn’t immediately suspect it was his doing, she would attribute it to her own unmanageable powers. With the umbrella bobbing beside her, she was able to finish her shopping, and Howl raced back to the castle so he would arrive home before her.

Changing back into a man, he installed himself in front of his hearth with a book. Calcifer crackled in front of him but did not rise to greet him. Perhaps he was sleeping, or thought it better to hide from whatever war Sophie and Howl might wage next. 

The wizard felt Sophie’s aura approach before he actually heard the door open. He stood from the couch just as she came bustling into the castle. The thunderstorm still rampaged outside, a cacophony of splitting lightning and howling winds. 

Behind her, the umbrella tried to come into the castle, but it was too large and bounced helplessly against the door frame, eager to follow its master. Howl snapped his fingers behind his back and it fell to the cobblestones with an empty clatter.

“Did you find your ingredients, my dear?” he asked politely, coming round to help her out of his much-oversized trench coat. He took the basket from her and kissed the crown of her head. Playing nice might save him from facing her claws.

“Yes,” she said. Her anger seemed to have subsided on her walk home, for which he thanked all the gods above. “I have everything I need for the… um…” 

He did not miss the way she rubbed at her nose, pinching the tip as she did so. It was pink, and damp with moisture.

His entire body thrummed with excitement. Yes, here it was, she would sneeze, and then admit to him how awful she felt, and then his stubborn as a mule wife would let him take care of her, and he could proudly declare, “I Told You So!”

Howl waited patiently, grinning. “For the…?”

“… the…” Her breath hitched. Once, twice, her breasts rising beneath her blouse. Howl magicked a handkerchief discreetly behind himself. “ahh-hh…”

Here it came. The bridge of her freckled nose scrunched up, and it was so adorable that he found it hard to keep his heart from melting just a bit.

She brought up a hand to cover her mouth, but he was faster. He grabbed her (regrettably, he thought) cold hand and pressed the tissue to her nose.

“hyiiSCHhiew! —THhyiew!”

“My goodness, bless you, Sophie.” He couldn’t help but consider how cute her sneezes were. Feminine, soft, and perhaps a bit damp, where a cold was concerned. It endeared him to her even more, if such a thing was possible.

When she recovered, she snatched the handkerchief from him, scowled, and pushed past him again, leaving him standing by the door with her shopping.

He’d gone too far with the thunderstorm, he knew. If he was going to get his wife to finally relax, and perhaps let herself be looked after, he would have to try a different approach.

“When does your sister need this spell by, again?” he asked as Sophie began to unravel scrolls on their work table. He brought the basket to her.

“Tonight,” said Sophie. She sniffled and unpacked the basket. “It’s very urgent.”

“I see.” Howl touched his wife’s red-gold hair. It was still damp from the rain.

“Let me help,” he offered guiltily.

Sophie eyed him curiously but did not object. Together, they finished the spell, and Howl sent a raven to deliver it to Lettie. Sophie was pleased they had finished it so quickly and busied herself with making a cup of tea. 

By this time, it was early afternoon, and Howl gave a dramatic stretch and a yawn before telling his wife, “The rain is making me feel very tired. I think I shall have an afternoon nap, if you would be so kind as to join me,” and then retired upstairs.

It worked like a charm. While he pretended to sleep, his wife eventually followed him. In the washroom, he heard her gargling water, sneezing again (soft, and cute as a mouse, he thought), before she emerged dressed in her nightgown. She joined him in bed. 

Howl pulled her to himself, her back flush to his chest. She was warm and shivered when he kissed the back of her neck. Fever-sensitive skin, then.

Like this, with only the soft patter of rainfall on the window, he could hear her gentle breaths. With his arms around her waist, it was even easier to feel when her breath suddenly began to hitch, and she sneezed again. 

“…hih…! hh—…. hhihCHshu! — ihhjSCHhh’Yue!” Then she sniffled, and turned towards him in his arms, seeking his warmth. 

“Poor heart, bless you,” he said. He did not like to see his wife so poorly, and he realised he had let his ego win again. He hadn’t wanted to tell her, “I told you so” at all — he had just wanted to take care of her. 

You stupid old sod. He thought to himself. Later, he’d make her tea, and bring her sweet cakes in bed as an apology. For now he simply brushed her hair back from her forehead, admiring her pretty red eyelashes, the freckles on her nose. She was winsome even with a cold.

“Do you know,” Sophie croaked after a moment, “in the market, I saw this odd ginger tomcat watching me from afar. He had the same colour eyes as you. I thought it very strange.”

Then she kissed the space where his neck met his jaw, closed her eyes, and fell asleep with soft, congested snores.

And Howl had been outdone, once again, by his wife, the extraordinary witch Sophie Hatter. 

[sneezydreamgirl]

In Which a Royal Wizard Catches (Another) Cold

I saw a post from @sickficluvr about a h/owl’s m/oving c/astle fic and I simply could not resist…. I love that sneezy Welsh man so much. this follows more closely with the actual book (I’ve never read anything other than the first book, but I know Howl and Sophie get married and Sophie ends up being a powerful witch, so enjoy a slice of their married life and Sophie using her witch powers to subconsciously make Howl sneeze!) it’s quite short, and rushed, and I literally wrote it in 30 mins

Sophie was not entirely convinced that her husband, the remarkable wizard Howl Jenkins Pendragon, was in fact on death’s door, as he so ardently professed to her.

“Sophie,” he whined, like a petulant child, from where he lay prone in bed, “mby dearest… You dod’t understadd. I’b— I… fear I bay be hh-hh—ihh!! h’hyiiZzSCHhue!— Hhy’bzSCHCHhHue!! Guhh… sndffgk! Dy’igg… I bay odly have a few hours lehh… lefffhhyhh… leftTH’SHHHhzzIEW!— hh—aahh…! AhSCHHhyii—HIEW! Sndff—!” 

Then, when she didn’t bless him and instead rolled her eyes, he added, “You’re by wife. You should be bore — SNfFF! Sybpathetig…” 

Without a moment to spare, he buried his large, pink nose into a handkerchief, and blew it until he had no air left in him.

She could only sigh. He was the most pathetic wizard in the world, that was for sure. 

“At this rate, you’ll sneeze yourself hoarse, Howl,” she chided, fixing one of his many decorative pillows to help him sit upright. 

“If it awards mbe eved a droplet of compassion frob your icy heart, so be it,” Howl muttered. He settled back against the pillows with a congested cough.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if her husband lost his voice. Choosing to ignore him, Sophie felt his forehead and tsked her tongue at the warmth beneath her palm. “How did you even come down with such a bad cold?”

“I told you,” he said from behind a navy blue handkerchief that he magicked out of thin air. “Everytibe I go to Wales, I get a blasted cold.”

“And why did you go to Wales?” Sophie simply could not make sense of his faraway home. It was a strange place, with strange people and buildings and rules, and she did not like going there, not even when Howl once dragged her along for a “rugby” match. What a strange game that had been. 

Howl sneezed again, three times in rapid succession, as if the very mention of Wales was enough to make him sneeze. The bedframe croaked under him. She could think of no one else who sneezed as much as him when he had a cold.

“H’igCHU! HhH’izSHhu!… hh’aah… hAHCHhu! Ugh. It was—“ he paused to blow his nose, then sunk down further beneath the blankets. “Saidt David’s day.”

“And who is Saint David?” That was a funny name. Sophie moved about the room and gathered the endless half-empty mugs of tea Howl had been drinking since last night. “Is he a friend of yours?”

“Heavens, no. It’s a ndational holiday id Wayyhh… WayyhelsSHZSSHiew!! Oh, hell.”

He cursed again in a different tongue, the language that Sophie was only just beginning to understand as Welsh, and coughed heartily.

Sophie hummed. “I see. You went to see your family, I suppose?” Then, feeling mischievous, and thinking how funny it was that he seemed to sneeze at all this talk of his hometown, she added, “In Wales?”

The effect was immediate— she may as well have blown a plume of pepper in his face. Howl’s long, angular nose twitched, and his perfectly plump lips screwed up to reveal white canines, and he forwent the magicked handkerchiefs all together and sneezed — loudly, wetly, and directly — into the quilt Sophie had laid over him.

“hh!HUH!… H’BbYZSCHhhhhYyIEWwhh!!!”

The sneeze scraped the very front of his throat, sounding awfully painful, and Sophie could not help but feel a little bit guilty. Perhaps him sneezing at the mention of Wales was her fault, a secret magic spell that she had unconsciously brought to life, simply by thinking it. That sort of thing seemed to be happening more and more lately. 

Still, despite the fact that she felt slightly at fault, Howl saw the merriment dancing in her eyes and scowled at her with a fiery vehemence. 

“I understand, ndow. Mby deteriment amuses you. Dod’t vex mbe so much, wife, or I wod’t spare you so much as a cursory glance whed you catch mby terrible cold. Maybe thed you will kdow how dreadful I feel!”

Then he pouted, appearing genuinely put out, and pulled the multi-patterned quilt dramatically over his head.

“Oh,” Sophie cooed, laughing despite herself. Perhaps she’d taunted him too far. She abandoned the mugs of tea and sat beside him on the bed. 

“Howl, come out.” She patted his hip, but he did not reveal himself. 

His only reply was a poorly stifled sneeze — “hIGKtt—guh…” (small, sad, pitiful) — like he was trying to hide the very fact that he was under there. His entire body jerked with effort beneath the blanket.

Sophie ran her fingers down his side. Even with the quilt covering his very ticklish skin, he jerked away from her touch like he always did when she tickled him, and growled at her. 

“Quit,” he grumbled.

“Come out so I can take care of you properly.” Sophie tried to peel back the blanket, but he kept it firmly trapped in place, and moved further away from her.

He was going to be difficult, then. Fine. She stood from the bed, brushed off her skirt, and then walked in place, placing her weight more lightly towards the end, to really make it seem like she was receding down the hallway.

It worked like a charm. Howl mumbled something about only falling in love with difficult women, sneezed once, twice, three times, then four times more in earnest, and then emerged from the blanket with his raven hair askew. He gasped when he saw his wife still standing above him. 

“Sophie!“

“You’re not so hard to fool, are you? Now come here, you ridiculous wizard, and let me look after you.“

Smiling, she leant down, kissed his forehead, and joined him in bed. He eagerly invited himself to lay his head upon her chest, locking their limbs together as though they were a natural puzzle. He had clearly been waiting for this sort of attention ever since he felt the beginnings of his cold (he believed his wife’s touch to be better than any medicine, after all).

Sophie began to pet his hair, Howl practically purring beneath her touch. He pressed his lips to her neck and said, “I cannot believe you used your magic to mbake mbe sdneeze. It’s a horrible waste of your powers.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” He scrubbed his nose against her hemline. “I, for one, would ndever do such a thing. I love you too much.”

“How sweet,” she said, scratching her nails across his scalp. He sighed contentedly. “Almost as sweet as those cakes you brought back for me from—“

“Dod’t you dare.”

“— Wales.”

He sputtered, his beautiful nose twitching once again as he fought against the magic settling over him. But even a royal wizard (especially one with a cold as insufferable as his) was no match for her spells.

“Oh, you rotten… you intolerable… you… hh— you…hh-HDT!!!—… Woman…—!! hhIH!!-HUH! HIH’YIIZSSSH—HYIEWHHh!”

[allentown32]

Your wavs are so good :3 I'm melting!!!

Can I pretty please request the following? Someone who knows how much flowers make you sneeze is about to stick a bouquet in your face. You warn them, you explain to them what will happen, but they don't listen and do it anyway. You then break out in the most unrestrained, loudest sneezes possible.

Hey Anon - I hope you didn't melt too much so you can listen to this classic request:

My partner wants to see what would happen when they put a huge bouquet of flowers right up to my nose. The predictable happens.

This is the first time I've tried editing with two different voices - I'm unsure on how I feel about it, but I hope it's ok? Shoutout to @waterfallofspace for her tech tips!

**DO NOT REBLOG TO ANY NON-KINK BLOGS**

Let me know if this does it for you! And let me know thoughts on having a dialogue going? I hope you all enjoy it, and as always, hit me up for any ideas/requests! I love you all!

Visit Original Link

[aller-geez]

You ever draw a picture and it inspires a completely random 2k word ficlet that breaks your brain to imagine? Cause, same.

Exposure Therapy

(A 2k word Vee allergy ficlet~ it was supposed to be a Drabble 😭😭)

A preface:

Valentine’s Day is coming up, and it’ll be the second Valentine’s Day Vee and Kalypso have had while together. The first one wasn’t even 2 months after they started dating, so Vee had zero expectations. He thought he could get Kalypso some… idk, flowers? Some chocolates? A teddy bear? And things would be easy peasy..

Now, what he didn’t account for, was how much bouquets of flowers just sitting inside on the table irritated his allergies, or how much it would piss Kal off that they couldn’t even finish watching the movie she picked (aka heavily making out) because he kept having to duck into his elbow or shirt hem every few minutes with another one of his signature sneezing fits. After a particularly harsh sneeze caused the two to knock their foreheads together with a force that nearly knocked Kalypso out, the two got into a very heated argument and later on eventually they broke up for the first time. (They got back together 2 days later at a house show Toad Biscuit played at) She was a little sad that she had to throw away the bouquet of flowers, but did so to spare herself the headache (haha get it?)

So, if at all possible, Vee would rather NOT repeat the events of their first Valentine’s Day, so this year, he’s decided that he’s still going to get her flowers for Valentine’s Day, but he read an article somewhere online about “Allergy Desensitization” by exposing yourself to the allergen repetitively for an extended period of time would gradually lessen your allergic reaction, and he figured not only would it allow him to have a concussion-less Valentine’s Day this year, AND possibly lessen his inevitable spring time allergies that always drove him crazy every year, why not? And he already knew just where to go to attempt his allergy experiment. There was a shopping center a few blocks away that have these huge, fluffy pink trees that would WRECK his allergies. Even just thhh—inking.. about those feathhh- ehh—ery branches that almost look like smoke when the wind blows them too hard from the amount of pollen cast into the air made Vaelyn’s nostrils quiver in anticipation. If that plaza didn’t give him the exposure he needed, no where would.

It’s the 2nd week of January, so Vee figured that was plenty of time… He wasn’t going to see Kalypso today, so his plan was to head to the shopping center, with no allergy medicine, and survive for as long as possible until he has to tap out, and retreat back to the house to finish the day under a blanket in a dark room with tissues stuffed in his nose.

And to make matters worse, he got distracted on the way out talking to Rexar, telling him of his plan for the day and to leave him alone when he gets back cause he’ll be… occupied and completely forgot to even bring a single tissue… difficulty definitely increased.

Vaelyn Hawthorne had made a lot of questionable decisions in his life—joining a band called Toad Biscuit, attempting a backflip off a stage while holding his guitar, dating Kalypso again after their first of MANY spectacular breakup—but this? This might actually take the cake.

The plan was simple: expose himself to his biggest enemy (pollen) for an extended period of time, slowly build up his resistance, and emerge victorious, able to withstand an entire Valentine’s Day bouquet without turning into a sneezy, miserable disaster. A flawless plan, really. Genius, even.

Except now, standing in the middle of the shopping center, staring down the aggressively pink, feathery trees lining the plaza, Vaelyn was starting to regret every life choice that led him here.

The sheer amount of pollen drifting through the air made his breath hitch before he even stepped closer. His nostrils twitched in warning, his sinuses already staging a revolt, but he held his ground. He was here for a reason. He wasn’t about to let a couple of overgrown cotton candy-looking trees ruin his shot at a romantic, concussion-free Valentine’s Day.

Except—damn. It was already hitting him.

Vaelyn scrubbed a knuckle under his nose, sniffling sharply. “Okay,” he muttered to himself. “Mind over matter. You got this.”

He took a deep breath.

Big mistake.

The second the pollen-laced air flooded his nose, a violent shudder ran through his body. His breath hitched, and he barely had time to pivot away from the nearest café entrance before the sneezes overtook him.

“Hh-! Hh’ISCHHh! EISHhh! H’ISHHhh! —ish! shh! —sh! ………………hh’EISHHhhhuhh!”

Each one pitched him forward with increasing force, his whole body jerking like he was being electrocuted. He stumbled back against a lamppost, already lightheaded.

Great. Not even one minute in, and he was already dying.

Still sniffling, he patted his pockets out of habit, only to come up completely empty. Right. No tissues. He had specifically planned for this and still managed to forget the most important thing. All because he’d gotten distracted telling Rexar about his plan before leaving the house.

“Dude, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Rexar had been unimpressed.

“You’re gonna go stand in a pollen cloud for what? To impress Kal? Bro, she already likes you. Just don’t get her flowers...”

“It’s about the principle, man,” Vaelyn had argued, shoving on his boots. “Besides, think about how much easier my life will be if this actually works. No spring allergies, no sneezing my way through shows, and no more fights over me ruining our Valentine’s Day date.”

“More like no more oxygen. You’re literally gonna suffocate.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

And now, standing there with his nose running and his eyes burning, Vaelyn had to admit—Rexar might’ve had a point.

He sniffled miserably, already feeling his resolve starting to crumble. But no. He had two whole months until Valentine’s Day. He just had to make it through a little longer.

He straightened up, ignored the strange looks from the café patrons who had just witnessed his public sneezing meltdown, and stepped determinedly further into the plaza, directly under one of the biggest trees.

This was fine.

He could totally handle this.

Probably.

Vaelyn took another deep breath through his mouth, refusing to admit defeat just yet. Sure, he already felt like his skull was packed with cement, and sure, his nose was twitching like a live wire, but this was fine. He was fine.

The trees swayed gently in the breeze, and with them came another thick wave of pollen. His whole body tensed as the invisible storm settled over him, clinging to his clothes, his hair, his very soul. He could feel the microscopic allergens crawling into his sinuses, setting off a chain reaction he had no hope of stopping.

“hhehh… Hhhiihhh... Hh’ISCHHh! EISHhh! H’ISHHhh! —eishh!-ishh!-ish!-’shh!... ish! shh! —sh! ………..—hehh’HH-EESSSHHHhhuh!”

The sneezes exploded out of him one after the other, each one leaving him more breathless than the last. His body curled inward with the force, his hands fumbling uselessly at his face in a desperate attempt to stop the onslaught.

Oh, yeah. This was going great.

His legs wobbled, and he stumbled toward the nearest bench, plopping down unceremoniously. He blinked through watery eyes at the blurry figures passing by, some giving him concerned looks, others pointedly ignoring the disaster unfolding in real time.

“Hh’ISCHHh! —ish! shh! —sh! ……………… hh—huhhh—hh’EEIISSHHhh’uhh!”

The force of it nearly knocked him forward off the bench, and he barely caught himself on his knees, swaying slightly. His breath stuttered again, his oversensitive nose completely overwhelmed.

Shit. He was getting dizzy.

Still gasping, he fished his phone from his pocket, rubbing at his streaming eyes as he tried to focus. He hadn’t planned for this. He figured he’d last at least ten minutes before crumbling, but it had barely been four.

Squinting through the fog of misery, he hesitated before pulling up Rexar’s number.

He was not about to go home defeated, but if he passed out here, he was going to end up on someone’s livestream, and he refused to go viral like that.

With a deep, congested sniffle, he tapped the call button and braced himself for the inevitable I-told-you-so.

It only rang twice before Rexar picked up.

“Yo.”

Vaelyn tried to respond, but all that came out was a strangled, hitching breath.

“…Dude?” Rexar’s voice was laced with amusement. “You good?”

“EISHhh! H’ISHHhh!!” Vaelyn practically sneezed into the receiver, barely managing to pull the phone away in time.

There was a long pause. Then, a slow, incredulous chuckle.

“Oh, my god, you actually did it, didn’t you?”

Vaelyn groaned, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead. “D-dod’t,” he sniffled, voice a wreck. “Dod’t say shit.”

“Oh, I wasn’t gonna.” Rexar said, clearly grinning. “I was just gonna laugh.”

And then he did.

Loudly.

Vaelyn scowled, coughing into his sleeve before dragging himself upright. “Listed, asshole.” he rasped, dragging his sleeve under his nose with a miserable sniff. “I just… deed you to pick be up. That’s it. No cobbedtary.”

“You say that like I’m capable of not commenting,” Rexar snorted. “Where even are you?”

Vaelyn sniffled, tilting his head back against the bench. “Shuhhh—shoppi’g district. Dear that ode café. You dow, the ode that—hh’ihh… Hh’ISCHHh! EISHhh! H’ISHHhh! —has the good coffee.”

“Oh, you mean literally the worst place you could’ve gone?”

Vaelyn gritted his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Rex. Just cobe get be before I die.”

Another pause. Then, a dramatic sigh.

“Alright, fine. Try not to drown in your own snot before I get there.”

Vaelyn hung up before he could hear any more smugness in Rexar’s voice.

He let out a long, congested groan, scrubbing at his nose. So far, his brilliant plan was off to a phenomenal start.

At least Kalypso didn’t have to know about this part…

Vaelyn sat there, head tilted back against the bench, blinking blearily up at the hazy sky. The shopping center was still bustling around him, people milling about with their coffees and shopping bags, completely oblivious to the absolute hell he was currently experiencing. His nose twitched, breath shuddering as another sneeze built—again.

“HH’EISHHhh! ISCHHHhh! Hh-ISHHhh! ...ish! ...sh!!”

His whole body jerked with the force, and fuck, he was so over this already.

With a groan, he sniffled thickly and dragged a hand down his face. His sinuses felt like they were packed with molten concrete, his eyes burned, and there was a distinct, itchy pressure blooming between his eyebrows that made his whole skull throb. Oh, yeah. This was a great idea.

He heard his name before he saw Rexar, the pyromancer’s voice laced with way too much amusement.

“Dude.”

Vaelyn cracked an eye open and groaned at the sight of him, arms crossed over his broad chest, a smug grin plastered across his face. Great. He was never going to live this down.

Rexar took one look at him—the pink-rimmed, watery eyes, the way he was curled in on himself like he was physically trying to retreat from the pollen-filled air—and just wheezed out a laugh.

“Holy shit, man,” Rexar shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face. “You look so bad.”

Vaelyn squinted up at him, already exhausted. “Fugk off,” he rasped, voice shredded from congestion and sneezing.

“Oh, I plan to,” Rexar snorted, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Right after I take a picture.”

Vaelyn groaned, tipping his head back dramatically. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you love me,” Rexar grinned, but he was already digging his keys out of his pocket. “C’mon, sneezy, let’s get you outta here before you explode.”

Vaelyn didn’t even argue, just pushed himself off the bench with a sniffly sigh.

Then immediately stumbled.

Rexar caught him before he could completely faceplant, grip firm as he steadied him. “Whoa, easy there, champ.”

“’M fide,” Vaelyn muttered, waving him off and immediately regretting it when the movement sent his head spinning.

Rexar just raised an eyebrow. “Oh, totally,” he said dryly. “That’s why you’re walking like a newborn deer.”

Vaelyn flipped him off, but his hand was still a little shaky, which only made Rexar laugh harder.

By the time they made it to the car, Vaelyn was done. His nose was so red, his face felt swollen, and his breath was hitching helplessly before he could even buckle himself in.

“Hhh… hh-Hhh! HH’EISHHhh! ISCHhh! ISHHh! hh—ISHHh! ISCHHHhh! Hh-ISHHhh! ...ish! ...sh! ……………. Hhh—EEISSHHhuhh!!”

“Jesus fuck,” Rexar muttered as he started the car. “Did you seriously think this would work?”

Vaelyn groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It had to be worth a shot.”

Rexar just shook his head, glancing over at him with a smirk. “Bro, you just turned yourself into a sneezy jackass in public for nothing.”

Vaelyn sighed, congested and utterly defeated. He was going to need, like, six allergy pills and maybe a mild coma to recover from this.

And the worst part?

Kalypso was definitely going to find out.

[bluerose777]

I think I found the reason I've been sneezing like crazy!! 🤧

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