Yeah💕

+18 | in my twenties | Snz blog | They/She | minors DNI

[just-a-nervous-bean]

AN: 4400 words (wow) I used "they" for the reader stand-in/unnamed mechanic character, partially for ambiguity but also to make it clearer whos being referred to (biddley uses he, theres only two characters in this whole fic) :3 I imagine its like some strapping young fellow but it can be whoever you wish! Also, they have the kink, its laid on pretty thick cuz this is like one of the most tropey adult type of fics ive written, its like real corny. ends with biddley getting hella head (lets go t-dude swag) in the seat of a 1920s-30s ford. SUPER innaccurate because i dont know shit bout cars LOL, also small mention of a price, its adjusted to be like 1930s. "20 bucks for a tire change" is a weird whiplash in reading

Fic referred to from this thing

Part of the Package

“I can be there in a bit…! Say fifteen or so?”

The call had come from a diner, right off the edge of the city where the buildings taper off into the remnants of the industrial era. Factories, warehouses, workshops…

In early March, they’d be bathed in a rich orange at dawn, and the cool blue shadows would be cast on the adjacent streets and small coffee houses and diners where the workers would lunch. 

There’d be a car waiting there. 

They hung up the phone and slid on a coat. The morning air was brisk, cool enough to chill your ears and tint your cheeks red, just enough to see your breath, but it wasn’t so cold as to button up. Throwing open the door to the garage, they dug the keys to their tow out of their pocket. 

--------

The drive was calm, with the only activity from public workers or the occasional civilian doing early morning shopping. In this city, it was usually a bustle. It quieted as they neared, passing the diner from where the outgoing call was made, before pulling to the edge of the narrow street. Someone looked up from leaning against the car and began to make his way closer. When he entered the sun, a bulky man came into focus — squarish shoulders, large gabardine jacket, slacks. He looked tired, a fellow of…well, they’d guess maybe forty or so, with dark hair that was a bit grey around the temples. He had an uneven shave and a noticeable strip of bandage on his angular nose. 

They cleared their throat and put their hands confidently on their hips. 

“Hey! Blew a tire?”

“Unfortunately…are you able to fix it here or back at the shop?”

He gave a quick peek at his watch. They scratched their chin. 

“Back at the shop. I can give it a proper look over, the whole thing. You in a rush?”

He debated his answer for a moment before shaking his head. 

“I’ve got time.”

“Then I’ll load it up. You can take a seat!”

It was a quiet drive, the usual thanks and comments about the smooth traffic. They figured he wasn’t one for conversation; it was early, and he kept sighing and rubbing his eyes, sniffing, and leaning back. His voice was raspy, must’ve been a while since he had talked. No matter. They didn’t need to chatter, and there was coffee at the shop to wake up with. A few times when glancing in the rearview, they caught his gaze — dark, worn eyes, half-lidded. He had an air of stoicism to him, but his eyes betrayed that. As sleepy as he was, he was attentive, calculating something, and it was obvious when the morning light hit his irises, making them go from sienna to red.

There was another reason it was quiet. While their hands were on the wheel and their eyes on the road, there would be a sniffle to their side which tempted a turn of their head. 

No, not that they’d look.

A certain voyeuristic quality nagged at them to take a peek, but they resisted. It wasn’t so distracting it was worth veering into oncoming traffic for. 

It didn’t matter! It didn’t matter. They could imagine safely in their head, safe from those prying eyes. He’d cleared his throat at one point and muttered something, a quiet apology regarding the season, the trees, grass…left way too much for the imagination. It must’ve been allergies. Their lip twitched slightly at the thought of his profile in the morning light, a sheen at the edge of his strong nose and red lining the lids of his eyes. 

If there was any room for conversation, they’d ask if he was married. Amusement washed out their momentary fantasy as the shop’s painted green sign came into view. 

The two were apart as the vehicle was set up properly in the garage, and their new customer was allowed to sit off to the side. 

He idled around, a hand tucked into his pocket, the other inspecting the various notes and trinkets which littered around the workspace. Once or twice he glanced at the calendar and flipped through the pages. Finally, after a good twenty minutes of silence from the ride and being at the shop, he spoke. 

“Do you mind if I smoke?”

“Uh, no. Go ahead.”

He gave a silent thanks before sliding a box of matches open with a practiced gesture and quickly lighting the end of a cigar. A sniffle followed and another clear of his throat. 

They watched him settle against the counter, his hand pressed on the cool metal surface where the various tools rattled. God, those slacks. The way his thighs filled them out. Barely casting a glance, they could only imagine how well they fit on the back, with the way he was half-sat against the counter, hips pressing against a leather belt. 

They dipped down behind the car to avoid any further looks. This stranger and all his sniffling…their ears were burning imagining the follow-up. A sneeze, should it happen, would lead to a very awkward lull.

“Unfortunate time to get a flat. Most other shops aren’t open this early,” They said, hoping to continue filling the silence. Each crank of the jack warmed their muscles up for the day, like doing a set. A rhythmic click echoed in the garage. 

“I figured. Lucky me…the diner recommended it.”

“Of course. Working the night shift?”

“Mh.”

“What do you do? Your car seems to get some use,” They bit their tongue afterwards, a quick stop to a question that may have been presumptuous. It didn’t help that there was a pause. 

“Investigation,” He curtly answered. The sound of his shoes rounded the car’s front to stand beside him, and they looked to their right to see those slacks, “Hope you don’t mind if I watch. Oughta figure out the right way to do it…”

“It’s fine!” They looked down to his shoes again, “Investigation, like, detective work?” Those weren’t hobnail boots. Unless he was dressed in civies..? And this wasn't a police-issued car, either.

As if cutting off their thoughts, he added, “Private practice.”

“Oh…! I see,” Interesting, “Mind giving me a hand?”

He shrugged, moved the cigar to the side of his mouth then leaned over with his hand outstretched. 

They were the lucky one, actually, to have someone with this sort of build be their customer. Usually, they’d need a considerable amount of effort themselves to wrench the tire off, even with the help of a lever. But with another person…

He’d slipped off his coat and tossed it onto the hood, revealing  therolled-up sleeves of his white button-up and some haphazard bandages on his arm. 

“Just try to wrench this tire off. I’ll work at it from this side,” They mumbled, eyeing the heft of his arm, “Hope you don’t mind getting your hands dirty. I can do it all myself, but, you know, I assume you’ve got places to be and this is quicker.”

And totally not an excuse to test the stock of this guy. If he didn’t work out now, he certainly did in the past. 

“S’fine…”

His muscles flexed, padded by layers of flesh and fat, and there was a slight sheen to his face from the illuminated sun. The smoke was practically glowing as it silhouetted a hard, furrowed brow. 

The mechanic suddenly felt their tongue becoming incredibly dry. Oh god, it was too early for this. 

“I’ll get a cup of water after this. You want coffee?”

“I’m fine. Just the shop service today, thanks.”

“Of course…”

Jesus…yeah, he was still just a customer, probably one who was concerned about the state of his car above all else at this moment. 

With a few agonizing minutes of silence, the tire was off, and sitting there was the empty alloy ring. The man had wandered back to the counter to find something to clean his hands on before giving up and going for a handkerchief in his back pocket. 

“I’m gonna just apply some grease. Should make the drive smoother and easier to handle…”

“I see you’ve got a tub of leather conditioner here…”

His finger tapped on the tin making a hollow metal sound. 

“That’s usually for the seats, not the exterior, I’m afraid.”

“Mmh.”

They wiped their hands on a dirty rag before tucking it into their own back pocket. 

“All purpose…” He added. 

“That’s right.”

They stood, wandering over to a shelf to sort through the various bottles and jars. There was a faint rattle behind them, in time with a faint gust from outside that swept dust around their work boots. 

“—hHUh!” 

The jars rattled as they jolted, fumbling with one.

“-UHsschHHHhuhw!!”

They were expecting it but they still froze. A jolt of warmth shot to their stomach. Springtime, this was an occurrence they should have been used to, but god, how often did they have a man walk in looking like this? Dishevelled, not in a hurry, finely aged. 

They could only imagine the way his features contorted, how he would bend over to make that creaking sound of metal from their workbench. The clench of a fist, the squaring of a jaw, “Heh!hHH—!hHRSCHHhheuhww!!”

“Bless you!” They finally said, like a sigh. 

“Sorry—“ He muttered. They looked with caution, seeing he’d taken out the handkerchief to wipe at his nose with. It left a faint smudge of dirt on his cheek from the tire, “Didn’t mean to startle you. I was trying not to disrupt.”

“Not disrupting at all! Trust me, with how rarely this place gets cleaned, it’s not a surprise.”

They tucked a small can into their pocket before throwing off a tarp on a pile of tires. All the same model, it was a common model Ford. 

“Well, good,” His voice was still low and gravelly, “Because I’m probably going to do it again.”

He gestured at the open garage door, which took a moment to register. Ah of course. Rose fever, is what they call it nowadays; hopefully, it wasn’t too oppressive. The fresh air was nice, it cooled them off as they worked. 

“Just going to have to ask you to bear with it a bit till I’m done. Otherwise, it’ll start smelling like chemicals and nobody really wants that.”

“Wasn’t complaining,” He held up a hand, “It’s your job.”

He found the ashtray and hand knocked a bit off the edge of his cigar onto it. In fact, they realized, he’d probably eyed everything on the desk…including a ledger. Well, it wasn’t like they were hiding anything. 

“So…private investigation? You on a job? Looking out for someone?”

“If I was, I wouldn’t say. That’s confidential…”

“Isn’t that only for cops?” And lawyers and doctors. 

“You can be a cop and own a private practice.”

“Do you?”

He scoffed and exhaled smoke from his nose. 

“I wouldn’t say.”

He watched as they worked, an air of nonchalance that both put them at ease and made them feel self-conscious. They rationalized he was probably just worried about his car. It’s really about the car, always. Nevermind the way they caught his eyes on an off chance, nevermind that he didn’t even bother to break the gaze afterwards. The way he took the cigar from his lips to occasionally lick his lips and stare down at the floor. Nevermind all of it. 

Once or twice he raised a handkerchief to his nose and another small fit would erupt. They wanted to wince. With their knees on the ground, they could barely ignore the pressure that came from their wandering thoughts. 

“HHhngscHHHOOOo!!” Ugh, it sounded desperate. They felt the grease stick to their fingers as they tried to clean a rather clumsy error, “‘Scuse mbe—hHRSCHHhheuhwww!! Jesus Mary Joseph…”

It sounded wet. They scolded their inner voice for such a bold observation. The city was waking up outside, the traffic paired with light conversation. It was not enough to mask the slight groans and complaints amidst the sniffling. Their thighs burned. 

At last the tire. Easier on than off. When they dusted it off, it prompted another sneeze, one that he muffled poorly into his coat. 

“HhRSSCHHhheuhw!”

“Bless you again…”

“Thagks…” 

It took a bit more elbow grease, as they didn’t ask for his help this time around, but soon it was on securely. The rest of the vehicle seemed fine on inspection, a quick assessment was enough. Soon, with a quick polish, all was nicely buffed. The car was lowered, back on solid ground. 

“If you want me to detail the seats, you can always come back. Mind if I get your info?”

He made a gesture to wait before opening his wallet and sliding over a card. 

Kyrios & Ollie, private investigation. 

Wonder if he was the Kyrios or the Ollie. He didn’t look like an Ollie. 

He cleared his throat as they penned his name into the ledger. 

“How much do I owe?”

“It’s a twenty.”

There was a moment of hesitation. They looked up as they set down the pen to see him looking back with a slight furrow of his brows. Those strong brows. They couldn’t tell if he was about to sneeze again or just had something to add. 

“For a tire? Just for the one?”

“And the towing-“ They corrected. He nodded, of course, “The service and…the tire itself.”

He looked a little sheepish before thumbing out a few bills and folding them over. Practically emptied the wallet. 

“Sorry,” They said with a shrug and a lopsided smile, “It’s, uh, just how it is…”

“Hm, I know. It’s fine.”

“Afraid I can’t go lower.”

“No, no, it’s not that-!” He held up a hand. Accused of being stingy, his cheeks were flushing the same red as his nose. He sniffed again, tugging at his collar, “I owe breakfast to some people in about an hour…afraid that’ll have to wait. I didn’t realize I would be-“

Forking over so much? They felt a bit of pity. Nobody ever plans to blow a tire — if that were the case, then they’d be out of business. Something else roiled around their stomach. Something rather taboo.

An opportunity presented itself. 

“Save the breakfast money,” They said with a definity to their tone that surprised even them. The garage door let in another wave of wind, which blew the edges of the paper as they gestured it back towards him with an open palm, “I’ve got an idea of how to make up for it. And I promise it won’t take the whole hour.”

“Seems unorthodox. I’m alright to pay…” He raised a brow, “What exactly is it?”

“You see a lot of favours done in your line of work?”

“What are you implying?”

“You going to answer my questions with questions?”

He shifted his weight and crossed his arms over his broad chest. The cigar was put down on the ash tray, “Maybe it’s a habit from working with the police.”

He was reaching for his handkerchief again. They kept their eyes straight ahead. He narrowed his eyes. 

“Your gaze hardened a little. I saw that…”

He looked them up and down incredulously before looking at the open garage. A thick, palpable silence hung over them. They finally broke eye contact by casting a glance at the car and raising a brow.

“Really?” 

A faint smile appeared on his face, followed by a deep laugh. A rasp, from congestion or from smoke, it was hard to tell. 

“Call me an opportunist…” They said with a shrug. God, how corny. Their confidence was starting to slip, watching him swipe the handkerchief under his nose — the way he was so delicate, must’ve been broken or something. His septum was shiny, and he pursed his lips slightly when he sniffled. It made their fingertips feel like static.

“…well,” He exhaled finally. His key appeared from his other pocket, “Go on then. There’s plenty of room on the floor. It’s my car, I’m going to sit.”

So they were being told to kneel. Like a dog. They watched as he threw one more cautionary — but truly useless — glance outside before closing the door. The warmth in here tingled at their skin. It felt tight, there was a coziness now that wasn’t there before. 

“Jesus…” Their now-non-paying-customer sighed. He rubbed at his nose with his finger with a sniff, “The sun is gleaming right into my eyes.”

“You can close them…”

“I’d like to know if someone’s coming.”

Someone will be coming, alright, they thought with a snort. The clatter of a metal belt buckle against a button brought their attention back and they felt a rush of excitement ripple up their spine. His legs fit so nicely on the seats, the perfect width and firmness to be held by their hands, dirt and all. 

“Fuck, excuse mhH-me…” He groaned quietly as the fly of his slacks opened. Wrenching a burly arm to his head, he aimed over his shoulder, hair pressed to the window, “hNGggscHHHHhhew!!”

“Hhuh…good lord,” They muttered quietly. The sun did not disappoint. The fantasy that had been creeping up since the job started was in full view — the tiny particles in the air disturbed by such a strong force, and the thin, web-like strands that flew from his flared nostrils and barely closed lips. They settled between his planted legs, and eyes level with the dark hair of his forearm as he finished loosening his pants. A wet sniff ended his distraction, and he went to slide his pants off his hips. Not too far, no need to get them around his knees. This was going to be quick. 

“Sh-shouldn’t this be the other way around? Aren’t you the one paying me a favour?” They whispered, trying to hide the lust in their voice. Their legs trembled, replaying the harsh sound over and over.

Each one…showering over them. In the confined space of the front seat. 

“You’re not fooling anyone,” He argued back. His large palm rested on their head, thick fingers into their hair and tilting them back, “I’ve been in the field a long time. Read a lot of people. I know what I’m about, boy. This is me doing you a favour, I'm sure.”

Oh fuck—

The weight on their head only made the yearning worse. Like a dog, indeed. This was a man with many more years under his belt, and they were just some mechanic with an ego. They eyed the slightly grey hair on his thigh and swallowed to keep from looking too desperate. 

He shifted into a slight lounge with a pause and tilted their head back. 

“You keep your eyes on me…” He muttered, “I want to make sure I know what you’re thinking…”

A hefty sniff made a bead of moisture vanish from view. Did not take a detective to figure out what they were thinking in that moment. They threw their arms over his thighs and pressed themselves close. There was a moment where they looked down, accidentally, against orders, and with a moment, came to an unexpected conclusion. 

No comment though. Wasn’t about to give up this golden opportunity. His grip tightened as if to reaffirm their choice. 

“You know, the leather conditioner is really all purpose—“ They manage to add coyly before he guided them onto his body. 

The feeling was electric. Their own body felt ignited with arousal hearing the congestion mixing in with a weighty groan from above. Likewise, the wetness of their tongue sloppily dragging against such a sensitive spot must have felt as invigorating as coffee at this hour. His free hand grabbed the back of the seat as he anchored himself. 

“Ghhuh…ihhH-is— is this-hhHEH!ESCHHHhheww! A c-common offer you give?” He panted after another sneeze. They could see specks against the dark fabric of his tie, no doubt there would be spots on his white shirt too. And their hair. They should look up next time, like he asked. 

A reply was given with a shake of their head. He hummed to himself and relaxed further, practically shoving their face against his sex. 

One of their hands found its way to their groin, unfortunately, restrained by the jumpsuit — damn this profession! They steadied themselves by planting a hand onto his ankle, gripping on tight. They felt the weight of his leg, the coarseness of hair and the faint snapping of sock garter. 

“Hhuh—!hh…damnit—ngSSCHHHuhhw!! Huhh…”

Another. One they could witness. His face had this distant look, glimmering in the sun that snuck past the windshield and the front seat. The sneeze itself looked almost angry, how hard he scowled, how he turned to the side without so much as the thought to cover. A shine appeared on the dip beneath his septum.

“HhRSCHHHhheuhw!! Haah…” 

They felt him throbbing against their tongue. In response, they pursed their lips and sucked against the tip with a bit more pressure. The grip on their hair tightened and their mouth dropped open with a moan of pleasure and pain. 

“Good…” He groaned, tugging them upwards a bit further, “Good boy, keep going-!”

Their mouth was still watering. The thought of putting their mouth to his, to taste the salt on their tongue, feel the stubble on their face…

God damn it, but how could they say it? When he was so clearly enjoying himself?

Their hand clasped onto his knee, and they guided themselves this time. The smell of the leather seats mixed with the semi-sweet air of spring and the man’s natural scent was a pheromone all on its own. 

“IhH!I’mb so sorry—“ He gasped, teeth gritted. They peeked up to see his hand rubbing roughly against one side of his face, “I keep h-having to—iidschhhhHHHOOo!! Hhuh!hHDSCHHhuhww! Guhh…”

God, it’s fine! It’s fine, they couldn’t even say how little they minded. Their response would only be conveyed through an enthusiastic drag of their tongue. They groaned, the sound muffled by his thigh.

He managed to shift his leg up onto the passenger's seat, a feat of great effort based on the heavy breathing. It gave just enough room for them to press themselves against his polished shoe, and brought forth another sigh of pleasure.

"Ff--" He suddenly gasped, and the grip loosened, "I'm-"

A shudder ran through him, followed by a stifled moan and a rush of warmth and slickness against their open mouth. Did he just finish? Their legs trembled and they sighed heavily against his bare thigh. Discreet...maybe that was to be expected of private investigators. They wouldn't mind hearing a moan but the open garage meant anyone could just wander within earshot.

“Bless…” They finally managed to say. He must’ve been one of those types that sneezed whenever aroused because the force and frequency of those last ones really left an impression. They looked down, reaching behind him to roughly drag out the handkerchief and find a clean spot to tidy up with. The man just sat back, stupidly, pants still around his thighs. 

“So…how much do I owe now?” He mumbled, eyes bleary in the aftermath, “Or are there other favours I can offer?”

What vigour he might have had before had been mellowed out. He seemed more than satisfied to sit in the seat of his car and laze. 

“I think maybe a different time. You gave me your card, I’ll come knocking…” They shrugged, ignoring to the best of their ability the heat still fluttering around in their core, “Consider it part of the package.”

“Excellent customer service…don’t suppose I could tip you, somehow?”

Believe me, they figured, some tip was already given. 

Instead, they backed up and tumbled out the car. The wind cleared the stuffy air and he finally shuffled his pants back on, messing with the belt for a good half minute. 

“You’ve got good insight…” They said as he finally came out, “I hope it’s not too weird. But I’m sure you see plenty of weird things, as a detective.”

“It’s tame,” He answered, “Don't flatter yourself. Besides...like you, I’m an opportunist.”

Whatever was that supposed to mean? They struggled to recall their own words, muddled by the experience of having someone’s flesh in their mouth only moments before. He recovered fairly fast, maybe they had underestimated him. 

“Supposed the debt will be paid on a later date then?” They wiped a bit of sweat off their forehead, “I’ll come to the office, as long as your partner isn’t around?” They waved the card at him. 

“Go ahead…” He answered, eyeing the remnants of his cigar, “Thank you for the tire.”

“Don’t mention it.” 

They let him do a quick inspection of his own before reaching up to wipe the grease stain from his cheek with their thumb. As for the rest on his shoes or slacks, those smudges couldn’t be seen easily on dark fabric. 

“Just…getting rid of the evidence. I’m sure your breakfast party would be worried.”

He didn’t respond but glanced aside. 

“You can count on my discretion,” They said finally, “You’re good to be on your way. Anything else, just bring it back to the shop.”

“Will do.”

They’d part ways without much fanfare. The card remained in their hand, and the day would grow warmer as morning settled in properly. They wouldn't be in the garage to witness it, no. The mechanic had taken a very early break, a quick dip into the office for some personal time. Not that anyone could blame them.

[just-a-nervous-bean]

sorry for the litany of self reblogs recently but ive been rereading my old stuff and bc the search function on my blog has been muted its hard to find em. this one is like one of my most peak fics i fear, i hope ppl are into older scruffy hard boiled 1930s detective t-dick getting head from some mechanic. i COOKED on this one and im not afraid to say it

[just-a-nervous-bean]

AN: 4600 words on the DOT!! This is this post, that devil cowboy and vampire-genasi cowboy fic I said I'd write. WARNING UH MESS FR it gets so gross so fast, dead dove, do not eat, etc etc

Also, there's like lasso shenanigan in here, heads up. Context, Aaron's a fiend/fury, terms used interchangeably because DnD (a fury is a type of fiend, which are devils.) I have it so he can smell/pick up on emotions (and is allergic to pity 👀) AND ONE LAST THING: Red is a vampire genasi (earth/stone elemental), full name Cadmium Red (...toxic metal), I make allusion to him doing the biting neck thing but it fades to black before it happens so there's no blood. Weird power dynamic stuff that's homoerotic in the character with fangs way. that's all. Enjoy!

Live Bait

Red glanced aside watching Aaron throw his jacket onto the tent post. His undressing had revealed a crumpled teal shirt, sleeved rolled back so his bare skin was showing. That pale, greyish-pink colour, how it looked almost marble-like against his glacier blue eyes. He flexed his fingers, accentuating how his knuckles and tendons moved within that snug leather glove. 

Red raised a brow, “Colour me surprised. You have arms?”

“Shut your yap…”

The genasi hid a laugh with a faint cough.

Aaron very rarely exposed himself like that, rare to have his leathers off. Having someone as hypervigilant as him turn his back was practically blue, and Red could only assume it was since they were under oath to do unto each other no harm. Or to leave. Fiends were funny like that; while any fey would honour a loophole, those from the hells would challenge a contract through every layer of Carceri and back. No, there was no funny business, and Red had no reason to hurt him anyway. Quite the opposite. Aaron was hunting down a vampire and, by coincidence, so was he. It wasn’t until he was a week deep into this little hunting mission did he realized the sneaky bastard had set him up as bait. 

Ah yes. The little morsel. A fledgling on a line, drawing its master back to their nest. Aaron always had him at length, strung along by an invisible lure, just one injury away from being vampire prey. 

This would be mutually beneficial as Aaron, not giving two fucks about mortal matters, offered up a favour as an exchange rather than money, and a favour from a fiend was a powerful thing to have. Especially if he needed him alive.  

“HhH-! HHEH!!hHEDT’zzSSJhhhww!! HhHuh!utsHHHyiihww!!” 

“Sheesh…”

The fire crackled from the speckles of moisture. When Aaron sniffed, Red caught a glimpse of the glowing embers just beneath his nostrils. A forked tongue ran over his dark lips. Their reflectivity reminded him of scales…like those of an asp. 

He avoided offering a blessing: saved Aaron the embarrassment and himself the belittling. Who knew that the furies — or any fiend for that matter — could catch a cold? They did have to eat and sleep, so, it wasn’t too far of a leap, but it felt so painfully mortal. 

His pity smelt like spices, Aaron had said. Sensing it now, he’d taken a handkerchief from his back pocket and noisily blew his nose. 

Cut that out, an angry swipe ordered. Red looked away innocently. 

“Everythin’ a-ok?”

“It’s fide…”

“You going to sleep?”

“Yes, I am. That a problem?”

“Not at all, no. Carry on, sir.”

Red crossed one leg over another and leaned back against his pack to twiddle his thumbs. They were out by a large looming cliff face, a dusty canyon to one side and a sparse forest to the other, the rocky surface of which would’ve been uncomfortable to most but Red had his genasi lineage and Aaron didn’t seem to care. He watched as his companion’s silhouette vanished behind the tent flap before folding his arms on his stomach and exhaling slowly from his nose. A piece of wheat was stuck between his teeth. The stem wobbled slightly to the cool night breeze that stoked the fire and made the light waver. 

From his back pocket, he withdrew a small notebook and a piece of charcoal, beginning to make some fine hatches; it was the first step to making paintings, which he’d be able to sell once they were back in town. 

Meticulous and fine yet rough in every way, it passed the time.

The light from the fire would dwindle, he’d barely noticed. It wasn’t until he pulled out his canisters of pastels did he notice the dulling hues. Chilly out…hopefully Aaron wasn’t feeling it. It wasn’t right to feel compassion for fiends, sympathy for the devil, people called it. But it was inherent, part of their charm, their wiles. Lured many into Faustian pacts. Maybe it was due to his proximity, he couldn’t help but think about the discomfort this temperature would cause one with a blocked nose. 

A sudden rattle came from the tent. 

Red turned away. 

That’s another thing he realized; Aaron could smell pity like a bloodhound. Amidst a myriad of things actually; issue was, he was too stuffed up to hone that ability now. So if he was picking up a scent, best to dial it back. 

Red shuffled closer to the fire and knelt, lightly fanning the flames and giving it a soft blow. What it needed was wood, a bit more fuel. 

The paper of his notebook was replaced soon by the hefty wooden handle of an axe. He wasn’t going to cut down one of the many trees around them but there were enough branches and twigs he could chop up to make some more firewood. Wiping ash from his hands, he pocketed his pieces of charcoal. 

Red turned on his heels. He wasn’t two steps from his pack before something snagged him by the ankle, sending him falling flat onto his stomach with a loud clatter of rock, leather and metal. 

“UnFGH!” Came his unflattering, winded cry, “What the devil!?” 

His eyes fell to a glowing blue rope laced snugly around his ankle. On the other end, Aaron, squinting at him. His blue eyes, framed by stray locks of maroon hair, were piercing against the dusty red dirt. 

“Where you off to, boy?”

“Firewood-“ He winced, “Get that thing off me! You know I wasn’t about to sneak off into the woods!”

“Being precautious…” Aaron muttered. He scrambled out of the tent — looking very much like a skittish cat, if Red could admit. It was a funny thing, Aaron wasn’t all that tall and he was on the thinner side. In fact, by appearance, Red could easily throw him sideways, but he wasn’t about to pick a fight with one of the furies. It was just a funny thought. 

“Hh—! HHIH! HIH! Hhd!-tcHHOOo!”

“Damn, bl-“ He coughed, partially to hide a chuckle, “Health to ya…”

Aaron sniffed, head raised. A faint drip vanished, followed quickly by his gloved finger scrubbing at his septum. It was amusing, the way he would hitch so rapidly in succession, only to sneeze in such a vocal, nearly-acted manner. 

“I thought you were going to sleep. Cold keeping you up?” Red turned onto his back, lifting a leg so he could untie the rope himself. 

“Can’t smell a damn thing. My head is about to cave in,” Aaron muttered with a wet cough, “Thicker than a gutter full of mud.”

“Surprised you can’t do anything ‘bout it…”

“Gotta play to the rules of the plane. Too many fey folk, no rhyme or reason bout it…’no cure for a cold’, horseshit” Aaron retrieved his handkerchief to blow his nose again, “Tsch, fuck, when I’m layin’ my head is plugged and when I’m up it won’t stop…”

“We could boil some water and you can stick your head over it,” Red got up again, lifting his axe, “Or in it. M'sure it’ll be a bath to you. I’m going to get firewood over there, I swear it. It’ll only take a sec.”

“Don’t waste your water.”

“Well, we can drink that! Little bit of tea time never hurt no one! You ever have a cup of tea?”

“Don’t get smart with me,” Aaron growled, waving him off dismissively. He watched as he sat down, flopping back awkwardly against the stump of a tree with a palm pressed to his eye. 

Must be a pain in the ass, Red mused, carefully feathering a stick with his axe. To be at such a lofty tier in the divine order only to be forced to play by the universal rule of a cold. He shifted the wheat in his mouth to the other side as he muttered to himself in thought. From the dark of the woods, the sound of a swift axe.

—————

“HHEH! Hh’AETSCHhhhiih!!”

"Health to ya."

Aaron’s eyes darted his way for only a split second. The bastard’s keen senses were second to none. He swore Aaron would be able to hear his heart pick up pace if it came to it. 

The fiend turned away, looking back to the fire with his lips still parted. A sigh brought on a swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing unsteadily; he licked his lips again. Two glassy eyes stared ahead, red rimmed, slowly shutting as another ragged breath was drawn past his chapped nares and shiny lips. 

“HiIIH! HHYEH!-HhITSCHHYIhhhw!!”

“That feel any better?”

“Barely…”

He blinked, not even bothering to sniff. A string of mess hung from his nose to his chin, clinging to his narrow flaring nostrils. He looked itchy, his pale skin having grown chapped and pink as any humanoid would. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and the edge of his nostrils became deeper in the light. Then, they eased. After one more breath, he furrowed his brows and shut his eyes to begrudgingly scrub it away. 

“Keeps going away, hm?”

“Pain in the ass…”

“Need a hand?”

“With what?”

Aaron humoured him with a proper look, eyeing his expression with one cocked brow. Red merely shrugged and set his twigs into the fire to get it burning again. He finally drew the wheat from his teeth and waved it. 

Aaron squinted. 

“You’re a real comic, Cadmium. That is… the stupidest thing to suggest.”

“You sure? You can have it yourself, it’s just more satisfying than waiting for it to come along. Go on. Make use of it.”

“Y-…you can’t be serious.”

“You smell a lie on me?”

Aaron narrowed his eyes. 

“Can’t smell a fuckin’ perfume bottle if you stuck it down my throat right now, that meant to be funny?” 

“No, sir.”

He held his stare for a while longer. Aaron’s eyes remained fixed, even when the drip from his nose finally fell loose to his shirt. 

“Fine…” Red sighed at last, returning it to his lips. He smiled, unafraid to flash his fangs, “Just trying to help..!”

Aaron scoffed. He shut his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a quiet grunt. Something was shifting, the way his expression flowed from concentrated to hopeful to irritated and satisfied all at once. A snarl revealed a dribble under the hood of his nares. 

“Hh!hEH!..HEH! HAHDt’tschHHYIIhw!”

“…hm.”

“Huhhh…” He sighed. Mess dotted the creases on his sleeves. 

“Messy business. You could go back to sleep.”

“So you could ambush me in the middle of the night with that thing? Nice try.”

“It’s not like you’re incapacitated. You’re the one with the rope,” Red pointed to his lasso, a faintly glowing blue emitting from it. It only made the moisture on his leathers more visible, even as Aaron wiped at them with his handkerchief, “And I’m wise enough to know you could probably shimmy outta that whenever you want.”

“Right you are. Aren’t you clever?” Aaron mocked. He let out a low chuckle, reaching for a smoke, “You oughta know, Red, only thing that stings is the holy kind of shit. Though…if it hurts me, I assure it’ll hurt you. Ten. Fold.”

He spat those last words out, his tongue pressing on the back of his sharp teeth. The cigarette was raised to his lips, moving past the streams of mess before he exhaled heavily from his nose. Red glanced aside and dryly smacked his lips.

“Bless you, Aaron.”

“HhT—? DhHIH!hHHIHTZZSCHhhyihw!! Goddamn-!”

“I said bless you. Holy as anything, gods bless ya.”

“ShUT uHHP-! HhizzSSCHHYiiehw! HHZSTT’tchHHOOo!”

“That feel better?”

“Hell no, it didn’t! HUUH! Hhk-!”

He coughed. A bit of smoke clouded his face; it looked like it stung. 

“Would you humour me for somethin’?” Red leaned in. Aaron replied with a smack to the back of his head, “Yow! Easy! Now, I said I know you can slither out whenever suits your fancy, but I’m just…curious ‘bout how that works on ya. I mean, I’m just saying, maybe it would be easier to let me do the work. You get too caught up trying to clear your head up on your own, instincts take over an' all.”

“It’ll be a cold day in the hells before you try that, son, you are testing my patience,” Aaron warned. He’d stood up, and turned about to wipe his nose. A faint rattle came from his tail. 

“What about with some regular rope? You can burn it up, if you want, no catch.”

Aaron’s ears suddenly flicked back. He turned about with his eyes narrow and his lips parted as if trying to read writing etched between Red’s brows. He gave a sniff. Licked his lips. Sniffed again. It sounded more productive the second time. 

“You're trying to suggest something..."

"You don't have to go through with it," Could he read minds? Hope not.

"This some sorta…fancy little-?“ Aaron motioned vaguely with his hand, “Alright, what the two-toned fuck are you on about?”

“Nothin’ devious-! It’s- well, it’s this…it’s a thing my friend, old travelling buddy had, I picked up on. Didn’t really get the gist, never bothered to ask…”

“Cut the shit.”

“I just wanted to see what the fuss is about! Look! I’m-! I’m not doing anything malicious! And it ain’t to humiliate you, I swear on my oath to you! I'm offering to help you with this headcold issue, if you'd allow me.”

“…Fuck me sideways, Cad. If I had a silver piece for every time someone’s asked to string me up and make me sneeze.”

“Who 'n what now?”

Aaron leaned down at him with another sniff. This one was probably to test his honesty. His eyes looked watery. His nose was leaking and the way he breathed and curled his lip only made the mess run freer. Red shrank back.

“You didn’t think a…a person of lesser importance would be suitable to the task?” He had his cigarette raised in his mouth. Strings of liquid and saliva clung to his gloves as he moved his hand away, they threaded the space between his closed lips and the smoke that spilled from his nostrils. Those greyish ribbons, almost like a ghostly mist, filled the blank space between them with air that had a warm sting and buzzed against Red’s metallic skin. 

“No, it was…just a spur of the moment.”

A silence was settling in at an alarming rate. Red felt his stomach turn instinctively. 

“…get up.”

Red’s eyes drifted to the cliff side. 

“Please don’t—“

“‘Kill me’? Get a grip. Do a bowline, farm boy, wrap it round here.”

“Yessir…”

Red could only assume there was an ulterior motive but to take it back now would probably result in something worse. A show of cowardice. He stood, hastily retrieving his rope and hastily forming a knot around Aaron’s hands as instructed.

Thank the gods he knew what knot that was. He felt a pang of pride from it, followed by a nagging thought — if he hadn't then what? Surely Aaron wouldn't do any harm...he might have some choice words. A tender scolding, if he was so lucky.

The quietness was permeating, and Aaron barely moved at all; he could’ve been knotting up a statue, were it not for the searing warmth seeping through his clothes. A cough rattled loose this stony disposition. 

Aaron turned around, which tugged the rope forward and brought them together. He raised both hands to hold the cigarette between his teeth. 

“You’re gonna have to manage this for me, partner,” He muttered, deftly stepping through his hands so they’d be behind his back, “If you’re gonna tie me up.”

Red kept his head down, the brim of his hat obscuring his downcast eyes. He could see Aaron’s tail lashing behind him, the way he shifted his weight on one leg implied impatience. Whenever he sniffled, he’d clear his throat too.

Hurry up. Get it over with, this is the most awkward part. 

He wrapped the rope around once again, knotting his arms close to his sides, then around the top of his hips. He swallowed again, catching a whiff of the smoke lingering. His mouth was watering. His teeth ached. 

“What’s your, uh…what tobacco do you use?”

“Making small talk?”

“No harm in it…”

He finished his ties with a hefty tug, as one would securing cargo to horseback. For good measure, he gave Aaron a smack on the hip too — ‘that ain’t going anywhere!’

“You’re welcome to try a puff. It won’t taste good, it’ll hurt ya,” Aaron muttered, dragging in another breath. He looked up and blinked a few times before coughing, “T-take that won’t you? Just a second…”

Red hesitantly plucked the cigarette from his lips as Aaron stepped back, head shaking, staring up. Lazily, as if he had his hands planted on his hips, he whipped around on his heels. 

“HhHIH!!hhyzshHHHihw!”

The rope went taut and Red tugged at it. Aaron staggered back, half recovered. 

Red didn’t register it at first but there was a dull pain in his ankle; it settled in as he fell face first towards the ground again. Aaron had delivered such a swift sweep of his legs they practically flew out from under him, quick enough to go unnoticed. Red coughed out some dirt as a pair of white boots stood inches from his brow. The cigarette had fallen in that stunt, now smothered under a metallic heel. When he lifted it, it had vanished, the dirt smouldering in its place. 

“C’mon now…” Aaron’s voice urged, hoarse and low. Dripping too, the congestion was so apparent it would’ve been annoying if he wasn’t so sultry with it, “Put up a fight, won’t you? Show me how you wrangle your game.”

The tip of his boot slid under his hat and flicked it off from the brim.

Red reached for his ankle and pulled. His back hit the ground with a thud; Aaron writhed, kicking at the dirt. With a huff, Red planted his hat back on.

A manic grin was on the fury's lips, a challenging one. It invited Red to scramble over him, his sturdy chaps and metal buckles rattling as he locked Aaron’s thin waist between his knees. Snagging the loop of loosening rope, he slammed Aaron by the chest onto the ground. 

To his surprise, there was a genuine wince. 

“Don’t move-“ Red grunted, pressed his weight onto his hands. Aaron’s shoulders rolled in discomfort. Balancing himself on that point, Red withdrew the wheat balanced between his teeth. 

“Cutting to the chase-“ Aaron muttered, “Was more fun when you were mortified…”

He blew a stray lock of hair from his forehead. Red let go of the rope in favour of grabbing Aaron by the chin. He hissed, his eyes went wide and his pupils narrowed in disgust. There was a hollowness to his cheeks, a void, and the primal fear in Red’s stomach told him it was probably so Aaron could unhinge his jaw, and bare his fangs. But he felt warm and tangible, made of flesh and bone. The ache in his teeth returned as Aaron huffed from his nose. 

‘How dare you!’ His glare screamed. He could get out whenever he liked. His tail curled up around one ankle. 

“Easy now. You’re not too different from a rowdy goat, you know?” Red gritted his teeth and pressed the tip of the wheat to his nose. In the firelight, the shadows from his creasing nares and snarling lip only grew darker, and the bright hues of red and orange around his nose were made visible again. Poking the wheat against the opening of his nose caused the fibres to bend back — their dry and scratchy texture scuffing against raw, irritated flesh. The top of Aaron’s nose crinkled and he saw his brows momentarily upturn. 

“HhEh—!”

He twisted the wheat between his fingers. 

“HHIID’dtscHHHiiihw!! IHH’hIDTT!-yssSSCHIEHw!”

The wheat was stiff enough to not bend, nor was it expelled immediately. Instead, the resulting spray and mess had splattered against Aaron’s flushed cheekbones and the knuckles of Red’s gloves. The light showed some of it dispersing. 

“FFuCk-!” Aaron groaned, about to tilt his head back. Red held it still, withdrawing the wheat to find its tip dripping and slick. Missing a few fibres too. No issue, with Aaron gasping and hitching under him. 

“HHINGt’zzshHHIHWW! Fuh! HHEH!”

He didn’t even need to breathe in. His eyes watered as the scratchy stem dragged adjacent against his septum. The edges trailed against the sorest spots, which were burning an angry red. His nostrils flared, their narrow shape revealing another sensitive patch under the roof of his nose. 

That’s where Red would aim, with the stiff tip of the wheat, poking at the sensitive membranes under Aaron’s core tensed once again. Some tiny flecks of wheat dribbled out over his chin. 

“HHEH!ADTSSHH’iiihh!! God damn, Red!” He growled at him, “Move your fuckin’ hand!”

He was still holding him in place. Each sneeze, uncovered, out of control, was let loose with Aaron’s overstimulated nose aimed right towards his chest. He arched his back, head pressed against the dirt with his chin high. His heels, once dug into the earth, had stilled.

Red clicked his tongue.

The oddity of the situation he'd quickly jumped over. Now, he was looking at the way Aaron's lithe muscles strained against the rope, watching the minute bumping rhythm along his neck and temples. His thumb tugged up Aaron's lip to look at his fang but moved to his nose so as to not linger. Tugging at the edge of his nose, the alar crease, Aaron's eyes fluttered shut again.

"I won't bless you," He reassured, feeling a twitch under his thumb as he spoke. A dry, scratchy breath only resulted in a cough.

"Are you done?"

“Depends. How’s it for you?” Red asked with a laugh. It just came up, from nerves. He couldn't stop it, “Damn, it’s a good thing I’m no posh peacock! You're one nasty bull-”

“Ihht-It’s annoying, that’s ‘how it is,’” Aaron growled, simmering. He gasped again, his chest rapidly falling and dropping before the sneeze was forced, as if out of spite, from his tender nares and curled lip, “--iiHHDT!’ySSCHIiihhw! Hah-...”

Another burst of spray. He was running out of steam, the sound now was just itchy and hot, like a dry tingle in the back of his throat. 

Aaron swallowed, and Red was suddenly made aware of the tendons running along his neck. He slid a finger around his collar, the end of the wheat brushing against Aaron’s clenched jaw. His thumb dragged along his neck. 

His pulse.

Every breath, each hitch, the bastard took in made his Adam's apple shift, and the muscles around his jaw and neck would tense. He sniffed, then sighed. Satisfied and cleared up, at least for now. Aaron's body went slack. 

Instincts taking over, Red slid the wheat between his fingers and gave his neck a gentle backhand. Smacking, teasing at his flesh, so it’d be easier to see-

“Hey now. And just what do you think you’re doing?” 

Aaron’s hands were suddenly squeezing his wrist. How he’d untied himself in an instant, Red couldn’t even fathom. All he could focus on was that hefty, thudding from Aaron’s chest cavity.

“...Something strike your appetite suddenly?” Aaron continued with a murmur. Red nodded, his legs shimmying tighter around Aaron’s hips, “Didn’t think twice…”

“S-sorry,” He answered with a swallow. Oh gods, he felt his mouth get all gummy, like he was going to drool. About to sit up, Aaron’s hand appeared behind his neck and kept him locked in place. His thumb pulled back his lip to look at his gums as was done to him, the singe of tobacco still lingering on the warm leather. And as if deeming him up to par, Aaron pulled his head closer; Red cleared his throat, “Wait, I…it’s- it’s poisonous- Or, rather, I’m-”

“Venomous,” Aaron sternly said, licking his lip. Another sniff brought on a brighter gleam in his eyes, “Lucky for you…poison ain’t anything more than an itch to a devil. Go on. Your desire’s got a scent second to none…”

Red’s wrist pulsed as Aaron let go and rolled his head. His hands slipped behind his back as if the rope never untangled. Red’s thumb angled Aaron’s head further up, the grip sturdy enough he’d worried he’d ache, but there was no resistance. 

—————

“You’re welcome.”

“Don’t look so smug. A good deed doesn’t count if you’re doin’ it for yourself.”

“And I suppose you’re about as good-natured as they come? You’re the expert?”

“Oh, I’m very well behaved. I have been,” Aaron muttered with gritted teeth. He turned around, handkerchief dabbing at the spot on his shirt before doing the same to the two little marks on his neck. The lasso, having fallen from his wrists, wriggled. It slithered, and rapidly snaked back around Red’s hip and arms. He gasped lightly, “I’ve let you have your fun, don’t you get cocky.”

Aaron tugged at the rope over his abdomen, lifting him from where he sat a few inches. The way he flexed his nares with each bite of his lip revealed the aftermath, an infernal head cold that was festering. Though cleared, they both knew it was a temporary relief, “You listen to me, Cadmium. You’re a righteous fellow, a helpful boy, I highly doubt you’ll ever end up on my lists. But that doesn’t give you the luxury of running that tongue of yours whenever it likes. I won’t hurt you, no, but you’ll bend the knee to me when I say so. And I’m saying so. You hear me?”

His voice, smooth and gentle yet authoritative eased off with a sigh. Aaron drew in a breath, and let it out. 

“HhIH—…hh…”

He set him down again, leaving him tangled up. The metallic, undead blood in his veins felt cold. Aaron stood over him and sat on his bent knees, his bleached leather boot digging into his shoulder. He could see the heaving from his breath, the redness below his watery eyes and leaking nose. Aaron was selfish whether he chose to be or not, he had tendencies, and the way he was breathing over him with his lips parted, fangs showing, was slightly sadistic. 

“HhHEH!! HdttTSHYYIIEEHww!”

The heel pressed in and Red gave a lowly grunt. Spray dotted the front of his vest, against his pale, stony skin. He would've grimaced but instinct told him to resist.  

“Sensitive feelings for a fiend,” He snided instead, “I’ve been cooperative!”

“Pardon me. You still are,” Aaron answered hoarsely. The leather of his glove was soft and warm, worn down, as it grazed his chin. A finger snuck down past his jaw, pressed to his collar, and with a tug, the neckerchief he wore was loosened and drawn away with a smooth grace so Aaron could wipe his nose. It was tucked back between two loops of the rope on his sternum, “But you got greedy. I’m righting your wrong, Cad, consider it a favour. A good deed comes with some sort of sacrifice on your part, and you’ve already taken more than your share, don’t you forget it.”

He yanked on his collar to flash his neck. Red ran a tongue over his teeth.

"I can think of an appropriate consequence. What's your say, Red?"

He didn’t elaborate. With the way he leaned in, breath ragged as he wiped his nose on his neckerchief, he didn’t really have to. Red understood and nodded.

[itsjustaflower]

Thinking about when I was a kid watching cartoons….. whenever I thought/knew a character was about to sneeze, I would get so embarrassed that I’d RUN out of the room 😭😭😭😭😭

[lolgamorph]

the difference between a kink and a fetish is that kinks are fun and cool and they can spice up the bedroom a little bit and a fetish is a curse that makes you feel like you're missing the part of you that makes you a real person

[neptunosnz]

Silly flower is allergic to his lover's pollen.

First time drawing B/lue and Y/ellow from D/elta r/une My boyfriend pointed out the sneeze potential since they're both flowers! I thought about having Y/ellow saying something other than bless you but I thought it could be kinda corny so I left it like that!

I love them so much and I haven't even played the game, like a poser but it's fun so it's okay

[silversinfinity]

A stoic, pretty-faced someone who always maintains a sharp appearance, having a sneezing fit so intense it leaves them winded and flushed and with dark, messy streaks of eyeliner/mascara running down their face

[neptunosnz]

Silly flower is allergic to his lover's pollen.

First time drawing B/lue and Y/ellow from D/elta r/une My boyfriend pointed out the sneeze potential since they're both flowers! I thought about having Y/ellow saying something other than bless you but I thought it could be kinda corny so I left it like that!

I love them so much and I haven't even played the game, like a poser but it's fun so it's okay

[clarkkent102000]

Are these bouts of rapid sneezes during your wavs new? I’ve been listening to you for a long time and I’ve never heard you be overcome by a rapid fit until recently like the last few years. I love it and it’s so sexy, it would be fascinating if you developed a new style of sneezing recently. Do you think anything in particular is causing it?

Hello! No there's nothing new about the rapid sneezes. The difference is that when I initially started posting content - ironically to get over being embarrassed about how I sneeze- I got a barrage of negativity about the rapid ones so for a long while I edited them out or didn't post if my fits went rapid. Obv since then idgaf about anything like that as neg stuff comes with every post. I just didn't understand back then at all so everything stays in now.

In terms of cause, idk I usually find that when something just really hits the most sensitive part of my nose I get so desperate to sneeze my body just can't sneeze fast enough to shake the tickle. It doesn't happen every time at all and I have no idea if they will even mid fit which is exciting.

I know what the cause is here though! I hope you still like them when I'm overcome? ❤️🤸🏻‍♂️

[neptunosnz]

There goes my oc Bruce sneezing again! I wish I knew how to draw lmao

[clarkkent102000]

Ooooohhhhh my goodness i can't wait to hear those sick sneezes! Please please post as many times as you want and we will bless them all!

Please feel free to bless them all now ❤️🤸🏻‍♂️

[feverish-cuddles]

going to a contagion clinic and getting paired with someone who's desperate to give you their cold. clinging onto you, nose red and streaming constantly, visibly full of cold too. they tell you to get closer while they build up so they can snz in your face and make sure it lands just right Asking if you could play with their nose, having you cup your hand under their nose while they let snz after snz fill it with mess blowing their nose on you just being near you makes them need to snz bc they're thinking about you catching it the air is dence with their germs, each breath you take you're breathing it in you've seen them snz against a mirror or a screen and the amount of spray and mess that comes out it more than you could hope for

[feverish-cuddles]

lil thought for the contagion clinic shy sickie(A( getting put in a room with someone(B) who definately wants their cold. The room is set up like a small bedroom. soft blankets and all that jazz. The A has been hiding in their hoodie, all sniffly. it sounds wet and a bit watery from the sounds of it, but its desperate. Then there's finally that soft hitch. B pulls A close and gently pulls down the collar of their hoodie that A has been hiding in revealing their poor red runny nose that drips when A builds up. its nothing too dramatic quick but airy sounding hitches, A tries to bring up their sleeve but B stops them right in time. A snzs wetly right in their face a few times, spraying them heavily. Thin trails of mess oozing down. But their nostrils are still flaring

"aw you have more, its okay come on, don't hold back, don't hide." B coos gently and kisses the tip of A's nose. This time the snzs are more desperate and vocal and definately more messy A gets head pats and praise for each fit they let out and B sees its flustering them. Poor thing is gonna be bright red if another "good job" comes out of B's mouth

[willsneeze]

Decided to do something a little different and re-record my very first sneezing while hiding scenario, this time in Spanish, with the script translated by my dear friend @gentle-sniffles

¡Espero que los hispanohablantes de la comunidad lo disfruten, aunque sea con mi acento brasileño! 😅

[just-a-nervous-bean]

Oh my god people can we pLEAAASE not reblog vanilla drawn snz like FROM THEIR BLOGS DIRECTLY IS WILD!!! 😭😭😭 have the times changed? I might be out of touch but like idk I feel like this is so absurd and I’ve definitely posted about this before, but there’s been huge waves of new snz blogs since. This might be old man yells at cloud and if it is, SERIOUSLY someone please reality check me on this, maybe im being too paranoid about things that aren’t that serious.

I get there’s a whole “my blog my posts, don’t like don’t read” vibe and truly, at the base of my heart, I believe in live and let live. However, if I can state my opinion on why I personally discourage like making commentary on vanilla sneeze posts and reblogging it to your niche fetish sneeze kink blog:

1. I can’t force ppl to do this or that, but (likely, at least) these vanilla OPs did not make that art/post with sneeze kink in mind. They probably have never considered it to be a kink AT ALL. I’ve seen genuine negative reactions (albeit it was on FA which is 50x more unhinged) where someone (vanilla) felt genuinely uncomfortable about the fact a snz page favourited art of them being sick. If their post isn’t meant to be sexualized, maybe don’t come at it from a kink angle on your kink page.

2. Follow up to point 1, gives all of fetish/kink a bad vibe!! This is like those ppl on YouTube who comment how hot someone’s sneeze is on some random streamer’s video, unprompted. And not just snzblr but everyone! Asking is consent, knowing when to separate kink from non-kink spaces is consent!! We want to make sure people know that we care about communication and feel safe to talk to kinksters, and reblogging some random vanilla post and MAKING COMMENTARY ON THE POST without asking does not demonstrate that!

Like idk this might be a hot take but I do feel like it’s a responsibility of being in a community to maintain it within and outside of. Not everyone is comfortable with the general public knowing about their kink blog, recognizing them from their wavs or art style etc. and while, if that is the case, it’s on them to leave, it shouldn’t have to get there.

3. If you absolutely must share it, I feel like linking or screenshotting is the way to go. Respects the fact that the OP didn’t ask to be part of a kinky conversation and still allows kinksters to have a discussion about whatever the post is.

Like at the end of the day I don’t think the OPs would really care that much, this is like the Internet and will not be anyone’s last run in with a niche community, but like just as a courtesy, you know. I always use the analogy of sharing a picture of your socks and getting some random person commenting on your feet or your toes, or sharing it to their collection of kink content. Is it harmful? No not really. But is it a little creepy?? Yeah I think so? same difference I think? Is this old man yells at cloud??

Kinda wanna just revitalize this conversation and get ppl’s opinions on it, I might be of the minority vote on this and if that’s the case then I’d like to know

[neptunosnz]

My OC Bruce! They evolved (like a p/okemon) to say a few things about them, he's very allergic to flowers, daisies make him sneeze like crazy. He's also very sensitive to strong scents, and if you're dating them they will sneeze from your perfume all over the place, it's like they're allergic to you!

[sneezypotato]

Announcements and apologetic sneezes together??? 👉👈

I mean why not??? hahah as you wantedd Annoucements and apologetic sneezes together ~

Hope yall enjoy (✿◡‿◡)

Visit Original Link

[ktaaaashu]

If no one's gonna post gachiakuta snzart...then I'll be the one to do it!!!!!! Behold!!!! Enjin sneezing smoke from his nostrils 🔥🔥🔥 (I swear I start meowing LITERALLY when he appears in screen) EUGHHHH he makes me go CRAZYYY and Oh dear-the dub in English...god...his voice...his hands- OH BOYYY