Hello weary traveler, welcome to the Intro! My name is Sec! Secret Explosion is a page for reblogging sickfics, whump, and snz content. I may even post my own stuff on occasion. I don't have preferred pronouns, so address me however you please.
I was on a Ha//zb//in Ho//t//el kick but that faded a while ago. I don't think I can muster up the interest for it anymore though, so one project will unfortunately be left unfinished. You can still find doodles and a comic I've done for that fandom though! Other fandoms include(but not limited to): T/M/A, Ma/levolent, The W/itcher, T/U/A, G/ood O/mens, ect
Things to look forward to: I am in the process of writing a Ma/levolent fic and May be starting a ficlet for the game D/ispatch
Now that you know what content to expect, there are a few ground rules of the blog for visitors to follow:
1. To be Absolutely Clear: This Is a Snz Blog. Please don't interact or reblog if you don't relate
2. Minors: do not interact with this blog. I am a grown adult in my 20's. Meaning that this space is off limits to anyone under 18.
2a. Yes, age matters: If you do not have an age listed in the bio and start interacting with me, I will block you.
2b. What Is Interaction? For clarification, Minors: do not follow me, like or reblog my content. Please, just don't. Tumblr is vast! You'll find a blog that speaks to you. Live long and Tumbl on my friends!
3. To those with a regular blog: I do not mind you perusing my content, but be mindful to not reblog. I do not want this blog to reach the other corners of Tumblr
4. To people who are not interested in this content; please refer to rule 1. and 2. Again, I don't want my content spread to the vanilla side of tumblr for any reason
5. Content Control: I tag pretty consistently and pretty well so if there is any content you don't want to see specifically, just block the tag or block me
6. Most Important: Please do not spread hate or shaming. Just be nice to eachother!
Ok, I think that covers most of what I wanted to touch upon.
I cannot write very well, but if anyone has a character they would like to see in a situation, send an ask and I'll post the doodle!
Also, feel free to use any headcannons I post if they inspire something! It would truly be an honor. Thank you for reading to this point! Have a good one!
How silly is it to have a living doodle? Some little guy who responds to the cursor or pencil that draws them?? Who is also extremely ticklish with any sort of coloring??
Alright so I don't know if this is still a thing since the person putting this together's account is deactivated, but I figured I'd still post this. Just to spread around bit of holiday cheer.
@vibing-lizard-nose I'm your Secret Santa, I hope this fic is all that you dreamed of and more! Merry Christmas!!!
~
Lightning flashed outside, lighting up the dim bookshop with light as rain pelted against the glass, like the weather was a beast trying to claw its way inside.
A perfect night to curl up with a good book and a cup of cocoa.
Thatās what Aziraphale thought at least, but he couldnāt help but occasionally glance at the window anxiously. A certain demon occupying his thoughts.
He tried to squash the nervous feelings, attempting to focus on his book.
That lasted all a minute before he heard the front door to his shop swing open, the bell above it tinkling softly.
āIām sorry, Iām afraid weāre closed,ā Aziraphale said, despite knowing who an unlikely guest at this hour meant. He was ashamed at the flutter of anticipation in his chest.
āItās just me, Angel!ā Crowley called out as he heard the demons' smooth footsteps as he sauntered to the backroom.
āAh, there you are, Angel.ā He still said, acting as if he didnāt know exactly where his angel was tucked away. He was carrying a bottle of red wine, and with a snap of his fingers, a pair of glasses appeared on Aziraphale's side table.
Aziraphale couldnāt help the flutter he felt in his chest at the gesture.
āLong day, I take it?ā The Angel questions as he lazily watches the demon pour a generous amount of liquid into each glass.
āYou have no idea,ā Crowley grumbled, without elaboration, draping himself across Aziraphaleās couch with a deep sigh.
Aziraphale frowned. He couldnāt put his finger on it, but something soundedā¦off about Crowleyās voice.
He blamed it on nerves, taking a languid sip of his wine.
The two of them didnāt talk much, but the angel found that he didnāt mind. Happy to just enjoy each other's company, besides, he was sure things would change once the demon had a couple of glasses in him.
Azirphale let his eyes skim over the pages in his book, so deeply focused that he almost missed the small gasp from his companion.Ā
He lifted his gaze, sure that Crowley was preparing himself for a long-winded speech of all the complaints of his day.
Ā āIhhHK-!hnNGKSSHHh!!ā
āGoodness, bless you!ā Aziraphaled said, wincing as he recognized the consequences of his words almost immediately as Crowleyās nose scrunched up.
āHhhā¦ Aāahuhh-angelā hHHRRZZSCHHHāHUE!! HhNgktsCHHāIHHWw! HhdtsHHIHww!!ā
Crowley snapped forward, barely covering, a true testament to how tipsy he was already feeling, only managing to half stifle the last one. He snuffled thickly, knuckling his nose roughly.
At least the angel had managed to resist the urge to bless Crowley this time, at least.
Azirphale stared at him, considering for the first time tonight that the lack of conversation this evening might not entirely be due to a bad day.
āPardon my asking, but are you feeling alright, love?ā He asked, face heating up as he took note that heād reflexively added a bit of endearment on the end of his question.
āIām fine, itās just been a fucking shit day.ā Crowley snuffled, voice flooding with congestion as he realized thatās why the demonās voice sounded off to him earlier.
Aziraphale continued to stare at Crowley, noticing something else.
āGood Hevanās Crowley, youāre soaking wet!ā He exclaimed, leaping to his feet to find a towel or something to dry the sopping wet demon lounging on his couch.
āYeah, soā¦itās just a bit of water.ā The demon said with a bit of tilt to his head, like he didnāt understand why it was such a big deal, āIf youāre worried about the upholstery, I can always get you a new one.ā
āDamn the upholstery, Crowley, you must be chilled to the bone, no wonder you're sneezing.ā Azirphale cursed, snapping his fingers, and in the blink of an eye, Crowley was wearing tartan colored pajamas.
āDonāt you think this is a bit overkill, Angel?ā Crowley snorted, regretting the actions as his nose scrunched up, his nostrils fluttering.
āHIHāZSHHHāssshhh-uhā
āIām afraid you may have answered that question for me, love.ā Aziraphale chuckled, a matching blanket appearing in the blink of an eye as he draped it over Crowley. Not missing the way, the demon nuzzled underneath it.
āNow I believe you were about to tell me about this miserable day of yours?ā Azirphale asked, settling back into his chair, book long forgotten.
āUgh, it was fucking dreadful!ā Crowley growled.
Azirphale smiled, watching the demon launch into an animated explanation of his work day. He couldnāt imagine a better way to spend a rainy day.
(Part 1 here and 2 here; this takes place post part 2, before 3)
Series: D/ispatch (Game)
Characters: R/obert R/obertson, mention of other minor characters (disclaimer: from here on out, all snz very Robert-centric)
Blurb: Robert returns home after a late night of work. (Plot is spoiler-free ā I am now caught up to episode 6 of 8 total though)!
Length: 1.7k words
TW: Light mess, cursing, suspected contagion
**Please do not share to non-kink snz blogs and minors DNI! Feedback and formatting tips are always welcome <3 AND as always, thanks for the tags, comments, likes, etc. May the season finale treat us all well and not break our hearts too badly**
ā¦
Interlude.
Robert swings his apartment door open, taking a deep breath as he steps in and Beef races past his legs. Damn. This place really never got any less depressing.
Not that he particularly cared; itās not like anyone was ever here but him and Beef. Which reminds him of what he and Waterboy had talked about earlier that eveningā¦something about family or having someone at homeā¦?
Eh, that could be dwelled on some other time. For now, the last thing Robert wanted to think about was anything work related.Ā
He wastes no time stripping down, snapping off his shirt and tossing it onto the couch so his bare chest is exposed. Next are his shoes, which he abandons by the entrance, and finally, his pants. He undoes his belt, flinging it to the side like everything else, then removes his slacks, revealing a pair of navy briefs. Just as he prepares to toss them though, he stops, suddenly becoming aware of an unusual mass weighing down the front right pocket.
What theā¦?
He decides to investigate further by turning the pants over in his hands; and as soon as he locates the culprit of his curiosity, he clicks his tongue and hangs his head in exasperation.
There ā still half-stuffed in his pocket ā were Waterboyās gloves. Fuck. How could he be so careless to forget he had his gloves??
Robert sighs, squeezing the bright pair in his hand. Shit, maybe his hands were tiny; why did these feel huge to him? With a care he hadnāt afforded his own clothes, Robert chooses to fold the gloves into a neat square, then sets them atop the countertop beside his pants. He felt a little guilty he took them home, even if he hadnāt meant to; he just knew how insecure Waterboy was about his powers, so Robert could only imagine how serious an inconvenience it must be for the guy to be without them ā even if was just one night. Still, he supposed it wasnāt the end of the world. If anything he probably had spares, and if Waterboy did end up coming to work tomorrow (with or without a cold), Robert suspected thatād be as convenient a time as any to return them. Regardless, it wasnāt worth stewing over now.
Thus, Robert resumes his nightly routine, starting with a beeline for the kitchenette cabinets where he pats down the empty shelves for a half-emptied bottle of liquor. Striking gold, he removes the cork and sniffs the top, recoiling slightly from the scent that wafts from the lip. It burns his nostrils, but not in an unpleasant way. Without further ado, he holds his breath and takes a generous swig straight from the glass, smacking his lips as he savors the aftertaste.
Hmm. Thatās weird. It didnāt taste or smell as pungent as he remembered it being a few nights ago. Maybe it was stale or something? Waitā¦did alcohol even go stale? He shrugs, not bothering to close the cabinet as he takes the bottle to-go and saunters to the plastic lawn chair centered in his apartment living room.
He doesnāt even pass the counter though before heās seized by a familiar itch. Goddammit, seriously? Now? It wasnāt even that dusty in hereā¦?
Robert tries to will the sensation away, and when that doesnāt work, he resorts to scrubbing at his nose with the heel of his palm. He growls. Maybe he shouldnāt have whiffed the alcohol after all (he wouldāve drank it anyway without the smell test).
āHāhAH-!ā
He gasps aggressively then plugs his nose between his fingers. He was determined not to sneeze, if only because he was stubborn enough to believe he could force it away. Fuck. Why was this happening right as he was finally about to relax and go to sleep?
āhhiyh-ā¦?! hHāUH-!ā
He clamps down harder as the tickle teases him, and rears and bucks against his grip with an ugly vengeance. However, itās like the harder he fought it the worse it got, and following a few more seconds of fruitless stalling, heās eventually forced to embrace the inevitable.
āhhHāNNGXTātt!ā
Shit! That fucking hurt. Stifling effectively did nothing but punish himself and launch a bullet of pain through his fucking skull. It'd done nothing to tame or quell the itch either; he was going to sneeze again. If anything, stifling had caused the tickle to ricochet and bounce around his sinuses. Nonetheless, he keeps both nostrils pinched shut against his better judgment (or relief) as he gears up for another.
The sneeze manages to escape half-stifled, and as dreaded, leaves the tips of Robertās fingers feeling suspiciously damp. He rolls his eyes and curses beneath his breath as he sulks back to the kitchen, sets down his drink, then shuffles over to use the sink. All the while he keeps his hand clamped in place until the water is warm enough where he can scrub both his hands and face with a generous amount of soap.
He sniffles as he washes his hands clean again, frowning as he snorts against a new dam of congestion. Seriously, what was wrong with him? Even now he could still feel something toying with his senses; like a spark or something buzzing around between his eyes to make his nose dance and itch like mad. Usually this feeling only bothered him like this when he got bloodied noses (something he was prone to since his childhood). But now it wasnāt just his nose acting up; his head was aching worse tooā¦or did he really just not notice it because he was busy with settling todayās shiftā¦?
Robert shakes his hands dry and takes another two (or four) gulps of liquor. Satisfied, he scuttles over to his chair, where he settles in with an uneasy groan and leans back to stare at the water damage staining the center of the ceiling. He hums to himself in contemplation.
Huh.
You know, now that he really thought about itā¦he had been a little off the past few days. For starters his head had been aching on and off, often hurting worse in the mornings and nights, or when he was being particularly active at work. Originally heād chalked it up to excessive screen time or a bit of caffeine withdrawal (since the coffee machine in the break room broke two days ago), but now he was starting to doubt himself. It was also a bit concerning (or coincidental, or both) that heād been pretending not to notice the pain in his throat, which burned earlier this same week and has since become a dull, constant scratch heād resorted to nursing with blissful ignorance and alcohol. And as if that werenāt enough, he had been feeling a bit sneezier than usual; sometimes waking up to a brief fit or two before and on his way to work. In fact, even Chase had noticed, having donated that box of tissues to Robertās desk after complaining his intermittent sniffling was starting to irritate the living Hell out of him; the same tissues, actually, that Robert had used to pat downā¦Waterboyāsā¦woundsā¦
āOh fuck me,ā Robert curses, slapping his dumb self in the forehead, which to his chagrin, felt a little hotter than usual. Beef must be attuned to his frustration, because the chubby little chihuahua immediately hops down from his pillow on the couch in favor of balancing on his hind legs and stretching his paws up towards Robertās lap. Robert obliges Beefās request for uppies by scooping him up into his arms. He was still busy staring between his ceiling and the apartment window as the rotund puppy licks his freckles.
What if Waterboy wasnāt sick? Maybe it was just the physical cold that had bothered him. Hell, Robert himself was like that; itās one of the many reasons he despised the winter, wore jackets all year-round, and dedicated himself to avoiding cold rooms. But now, after having spent all day man-handling Waterboyās face, touching his hands, invading his personal spaceā¦what if nāhH-!ā¦n-nowāH-..heād inadvertentlāhiyh-?!
āHHāRRZSHāHUuih!!ā¦HAāTTDJSSHHāUu!ā
Robert manages to tug Beef close to his chest just in time to avoid sneezing on him. He doesnāt, however, bother with covering or stifling this time; rather opting to sneeze freely in the comfort of his own home. He sort of regrets it though, since it leaves his nose running and smatters his lap with sprinkles of fallout; but hey, thatās kind of what he gets for never wearing pants around the house.
Instead of blowing his nose (because what are tissues?), he sniffles back the remaining tide, which adds to his congestion and irritates his throat enough to make him cough. It ends up being harsher than he expects, coming across more like a bark Beef would make. It also ached a bit; one of those he could really feel rattling around in his chest.
Fuuuuck; he was so fucking fucked.
At least Beef was here to comfort him though; the little guy whimpering in sympathy and nuzzling his owner with his wet little nose. Robert scratches him behind the ears, smiling down sweetly at his faithful companion.
āThanks, Beef,ā he says, turning his head and coughing at his shoulder. He sniffles and clears his throat again. āYou really are my rock, huh boy?ā
Beef yips in agreement, plastering on that goofy grin everyone at the SDN couldnāt help but fall in love with (and feed table scraps to). Actually, now that Robert looked more closely, that smile sort of reminded him of Waterboy; the lopsidedness replicating his cheerful grin with a splitting amount of accuracy. Honestly, the resemblance was uncanny.
Robert catches his mind wandering again. Shit, was he seriously buzzed already?
Another yawn sneaks up on him, this time bringing a crash of sleepiness Robert hadnāt realized he was fighting. He wiggles in his seat, making a mental note to reconvene with Waterboy sometime tomorrow, both to check in on him and return his gloves. In the meantime though, all Robert wanted to do was sit with his dog, forget he existed, and go to sleep.
Which is exactly what he does, and it takes him no more than seven minutes flat.
āSnfā¦technically, we are all under some sort of weather.ā
āLet me rephraseā¦it sounds like you have the sniffles.ā
āIāve been having a lot of them lately, yes.ā
āOkay ā I mean, you seem like you donāt feel yourself.ā
āI would never do that in polite company - koff!ā
āJesus, I mean youāve come down with something!ā
āI always cobe down with everything ā I certainly donāt want to go back up for it, so I - snf! - bring it with me.ā
āAlright, fine, smartass, youāre sick. Ill. Indisposed. Ailing. You are housing a foreign body that is causing a set of specific symptoms to the detriment of yourself. Now get out of here and back to bed!ā
this is my first ask but i am a lurker how does one get over the nervousnes of postin f*tish art more importantly if i have a recognizable art style gahh i wish i could post things for likeminded people's eyes only i want to share tenna art.......................
Hi, super sorry for the delay!! But gosh, that sounds like quite a pickle! I'm sorry you're struggling with this, Anon. :(
I'm... not really good with advice, but I have seen people with kink/fet accounts have in their bios and/or pinned posts saying something among the lines of, "if you recognize me and/or my content from my main/a different account, please do not bring it up to me". So far, I haven't seen anyone trying to talk to other snzfuckers about their mains or trying to out them, so chances are likely that people will respect that.
I reached out to the folks within a snz server I'm in and a few of them have said not only to ignore and block people who give you flack along with blocking vanilla mutuals that you're worried about stumbling upon your content, also chances are that maybe a couple to few of your moots might have a snz kink of their own as well! Maybe even see the appeal and get into it! Who knows?
I've also talked with someone who had an issue similar to yours. They've been trying to work on altering their original art style a bit so that it's at least a bit less recognizable to some extent, so you could practice on that if you wanted. That and eventually -- and I feel like you might end up coming to terms with it, too -- they've learned that no one really gives a fuck when it comes to kink posting and they don't gotta give a fuck as to what people think either.
TL;DR You have options and you're allowed to use them for the sake of your comfort and safety in any given situation. Ya gotta find the right people. And even if it's hard to not give a fuck (I'm a bit of a fake idgaf-er myself when it comes to kink posting), at some point you'll get exhausted of thinking on it too much and say, "fuck it, we ball".
In the end, while I encourage you to share your works and dip your toe in the water in being active in the community while enforcing your boundaries whenever you're ready, it's your choice on what you want to do. Act on what you feel is best for you.
thinking about someone who uses the excuse "we're sick" to get out of plans, except it's in the same vein as when a man who's never felt a single menstrual cramp says "we're pregnant." Thinking specifically about partners who cannot get sick or the risk is so low it might as well be zero.
alrighty here goes nothinThought Iād post some of my snz art on here involving one of my characters! Heās a wild magic sorcerer, and I thought it would be really funny if he was really allergic to Pixie dust. I wanted him to have some sort of silly unusual allergy, and Fairy dust seemed to fitting!
It's interesting chatting with Sneezy Peopleā¢ļø sometimes simply because their lived experience is so different from mine. It seems to go both ways, too, because as much as I have a hard time grasping the concept of sneezing every day, or even just the idea that simply being around something can make someone sneeze, they sometimes seem to have a hard time grasping that, for some people, those things don't happen.
"Can't you induce just by rubbing your nose?"
"Well, around that much pollen, anyone would sneeze... Right?"
"Wait, months?! You've gone months without sneezing?! How is that even possible??"
Like, my friend, believe me, you are just as much of a mystery to me.
It's interesting chatting with Sneezy Peopleā¢ļø sometimes simply because their lived experience is so different from mine. It seems to go both ways, too, because as much as I have a hard time grasping the concept of sneezing every day, or even just the idea that simply being around something can make someone sneeze, they sometimes seem to have a hard time grasping that, for some people, those things don't happen.
"Can't you induce just by rubbing your nose?"
"Well, around that much pollen, anyone would sneeze... Right?"
"Wait, months?! You've gone months without sneezing?! How is that even possible??"
Like, my friend, believe me, you are just as much of a mystery to me.
a sophisticated ai/bot goes rogue and the human theyre hunting down thinks they can get the upper hand by using a magnet to mess with their hard drive or otherwise disorient them. unfortunately their info is about a hundred years out of date because no ordinary magnet is powerful enough to meaningfully damage a machine this advanced. however said robots body happens to have been designed with a sort of simulated nervous system to allow it to detect and repair internal damage autonomously, and wouldnt you know it even an ordinary magnet touching their chassis makes the "nerves" beneath the metal vibrate ever so slightly.
the way the robots "brain" processes this unfamiliar input is as an unbearable twinging ticklish sensation localized to wherever the magnet touches that only stops once its removed. this comes as as much of a surprise to the robot as the human. in fact the human is probably better informed as to whats going on because at least they are no stranger to involuntary reflexes. they realize one little magnet alone may not be enough to take them down, but once they stick it to their "face", sparking a relentless fit of glitchy staticy sneezes, it is certainly enough to distract them.
hhhh malevolent robot ranting about the superiority of mechanical lifeforms and their plans for world domination and shit but they cant stop sneezing because they have a fridge magnet stuck to their nose ^u^
For context I have not played de/ltaru/ne yet because Iām waiting until I finish the first game first, so I donāt know much about it but I need to air my vision
T/enna keeps having allergy attacks on stage and either he or someone else guesses that his internal fan is dusty, so a specialist doctor-esque-computer-person is hired to take a look inside and clean it up, maybe even install a new one if needed. When they open T/enna up, however, they realize that his internal wires are super outdated, and thus need to be prodded at and replaced before the fan is even touched (hence, wireplay), all the while heās still sniffling and sneezing, especially because theyāre starting to kick up dust in the process
A giant being used as an unwilling sneezy weapon against their tiny allies. Tied up unable to move an inch, nose pointed toward the nearest village, and their nose being repeatedly tickled. The giant begging to be released, they don't want their sneeze to be used to destroy the village of tinies they're meant to protect, but the sneeze inducing doesn't let up. It's only a matter of time before they blow. They can't resist forever.
