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okay so sirens, mermaids, etc, right? imagine a variety of aquatic humanoid that bioluminesces when sick. their speckled cheeks literally glow with fever, and their irritated nose and gills can be spotted at a distance even in the murky depths.

bonus points for messfuckers if their mucus also luminesces

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I know we all love a good winter cold but ngl I've recently been obsessing over the idea of summer humidity mixed with a humid headcold.

Like, it's one of those hot-and-humid-before-a-storm type of days, and they're definitely coming down with something. A sticky heat clings to their skin, and they keep having to pause to press their wrist to their nose with a soupy sniffle.

When the storm finally rolls through and they're caught in the rain without an umbrella, they almost appreciate that the wind and rain cools them off a bit. A waterlogged sneeze seizes them, leaving their nose streaming. Given the rain, there's not really anything to be done about it.

They find a building to shelter in and wait out the storm, but when they step through the front door, they're hit by the air conditioning on full blast. They sniffle, but the dry, frigid air irritates their airways, prompting another wrenching sneeze that they barely manage to catch, their hands snapping up to their face. Mess pours from their nose and drips between their fingers. They frantically snuffle against their palms, but to little avail. Another sneeze tears through them, just as soupy as the first. With a shiver and a groan, they resign to stepping back outside; the air is too cold and dry in here. At least the rain will do away with some of the mess coating their hands and face.

By the time they return home to their partner, they're absolutely drenched.

"I, uh, think I'mb comi'g down with somethi'g," they explain with a sniffle. Their voice is sultry in both senses of the word.

"You think?" their partner says with a mischievous smirk. They wrap their stricken partner in a dry towel and presses a kiss to their lips.

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A secret nest (cold F/F)

Just a short piece of fluff I wrote to meet some immediate comfort needs.

Summary: A farming couple in a vaguely historical setting; a cold; some silly banter, very fluffy

 :                             : 

The day is done, the sheep are in, and it’s really about time. Not only because of how precariously low the sun has been for some time now, but because the nights are getting really chilly, and to be honest Lily has had her fair share of chill for the day, no question about it. She sniffles and runs her wrist under her nose, cold and damp, unlike that thing that’s nudging her free hand, damp too but warm.

“Go on, Sleepy,” she says, though it’s hard not to smile. Every time he does that, giving her that last extra nudge and lick before going with the others, Lily can’t help thinking about the night Sleepy was born. His ma, Mittens, all heavy with twins there on the barn floor, first time, looking at her with those big bright eyes, knowing that something will happen soon. The first one, Dahlia, coming out so swiftly, but with the second one Lily needed to assist the ewe. First she had thought the poor bastard wouldn’t make it, can still remember that uniquely sad little shape, lying still among the hay.

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you're out on a stroll through the woods at dusk, when out of the corner of your eye, you spot... her

Me!! :)

Picrew link

(It’s cute but the skin tones/colors suck😔)

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imagine kissing a girl and she has to sneeze and instead of turning away she jerks down into ur neck.!!! just a thought

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whats the r/onance fic about 👀👀👀

my inane fic notes aside, it's pre-relationship ro/nance. steve got robin sick because of course he did. nancy is suspicious that this means that robin and steve are secretly A Thing. robin clarifies that they are Not A Thing and that it is impossible for them to be A Thing. this information unlocks secret new (sapphic) emotions for nancy that she does not know what to do with. also they go watch Cl/ue (1985) which is a classic and everyone should watch it. the inherent homoeroticism of watching Cl/ue (1985) with your sick neurodivergent friend who you maybe have feelings for...

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<< Rewind

1.4k words, St/ranger Th/ings — platonic Steve and Robin with brief hints of St/eddie and Ro/nance. As ever, Steve is only capable of worrying about others.

Written for @miserablebabes — I was your secret santa ^^

Thanks again to @softsnzstuff for organizing this!

Keep reading

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Got hit with a little shot of inspiration, so I decided to do a drabble on this wonderful post while I had the brain juice flowing. Might continue, might not, might go write lesbian cowgirls again instead. For now, I hope you enjoy whatever this is!

Hatchet Cove, like most Newfoundland fishing villages, didn’t see many newcomers. In Bree’s experience, anyone who did move to the isolated village was usually marrying someone who already lived there, or joining their family who already lived there… People didn’t tend to go looking to move to Hatchet Cove. Bree’s own family had lived there for four generations, and while she had no intentions of leaving, she did have trouble understanding why anyone would choose to come to their small, isolated village on its own merit.

Much less anyone like Kai.

They’d moved into the old lighthouse and taken over as its keeper almost a year ago now, but the locals hadn’t warmed up to the newcomer anymore than the land had. From what little Bree had heard about them, Kai was Hawaiian born and raised, making Newfoundland’s climate seem a perpetual winter to them. The people of Hatchet Cove, while glad to have the lighthouse staffed again, were skeptical at best of their new lightkeeper.

While few were at all hostile, most somewhat looked down on Kai’s apparent “weak constitution”. Bree, who’d had the privilege of visiting Arizona once and promptly decided to never go so far south again, privately figured most of the people rolling their eyes at Kai’s shivering wouldn’t last a day in a tropical climate. Still, there was no denying that Kai found the icy weather of their new home to be… Difficult.

That morning, when they made their weekly trip to the general store, for example.

Bree got most of her work as a mechanic, but when no one needed anything repaired, she helped out her parents with the general store, stocking shelves or manning the register. It was a slow day for her, and she’d already worked her way through the new inventory for the day, so she spent her time idling at the counter, wondering if anyone was going to bother coming in with the vicious wind howling outside.

Her question was answered when said wind slammed the door open, allowing Kai to stumble inside and wrestle it shut behind them. Bree half stood up to help them, but relaxed when they managed it on their own. Kai leaned against the closed door for a moment, catching their breath.

Kai’s dark, curly hair was dusted with snow where it stuck out from under their knit cap, as were their coat and boots. Most of their face was obscured by a scarf at first, but they yanked it down a bit frantically, revealing their large nose to be red and flaring.

Bree winced in sympathy as Kai buried a gut-punch of a sneeze into their arm. Another cold, then. They’d been on the mend when they came in last week, but considering they’d spent their first winter here with back-to-back colds, Bree wasn’t exactly shocked to see they were catching another one. As Kai blinked their watery eyes and snuffled, cleaning up their ever-besieged nose, Bree tried to make herself look busy.

She was glad the store was otherwise abandoned, since it saved Kai from being subjected to the disapproving tuts and glares from some of Hatchet Cove’s less polite citizens. Bree was never bothered by Kai’s perpetual case of the sniffles, personally; she found it kinda cute, to be honest. Well, days like today it made her chest twinge more than it endeared her. She listened as Kai shuffled around the store, sniffling and muffling sneezes every minute or two. Kai always sneezed like their life depended on it, and trying to tamp it down just made things worse.

Finally, Kai made their way back to the counter, knuckling their nose absently as Bree rang and bagged their groceries. Their rich brown eyes were watering slightly, and a bit glazed from fever. Bree frowned to herself, concern battling her reluctance to go poking into other people’s business. As Kai ruffled through their wallet to pay for their food, Bree couldn’t help but poke a little.

“Looks like that cold wasn’t on the way out after all, huh?” She was shooting for friendly, but more concern leaked in than she’d intended. Kai shrugged, handing over the cash.

“It was. This is…” Their breath caught slightly, nose starting to twitch. “Is… new--”

Kai was cut off as a sneeze wrenched its way out of them, clumsily catching the spray and snot with their gloved hands. Before Bree could respond, another sneeze ripped forth, even more violent and messy than the last. Kai was left a bit stunned in the aftermath, hands still clamped over their face and eyes blinking away tears.

Bree grabbed a handful of tissues from behind the counter, shoving them into Kai’s hand and politely averting her gaze to count their change. Bree felt another pang when the slight squelching of Kai tending to their nose gave way to an exhausted moan. She handed over Kai’s change, not commenting on their suddenly missing gloves.

Kai muttered their thanks, gathering up their groceries in their arms, visibly bracing for the walk back home. Unable to stand it any longer, Bree jumped up.

“Hey, y’know, my shift’s about over anyway, why don’t I give you a ride home?” She offered, hoping she didn’t sound nervous. Kai looked over at her in surprise, forgetting to sniffle for a moment and causing a bit of snot to drip down. “Just got new snow tires put on.” Bree added lamely, when Kai didn’t answer.

“That’s, uh…” Kai glanced out the window at the raging wind whipping up flurries of snow. They sniffled, then sighed. “Yeah, that’d be great, actually. Wasn’t looking forward to the hike home.”

Bree grinned in relief. “Yeah, it’s no problem! C’mon through the back here, I’m parked just outside.”

Whatever response Kai was about to make was interrupted by a harshly stifled sneeze; their arms were full of groceries, they couldn’t exactly cover. Sniffling furiously in the aftermath, they followed Bree out to the truck, setting their groceries in the footwell and immediately yanking out a handkerchief to sneeze into. Three times, rapid succession, a pretty lenient punishment for a stifled sneeze by Kai’s standards.

Bree started warming up the car as Kai mopped at their geyser of a nose, sniffling miserably. “Thagks.” They offered, nose now thoroughly blocked. They gave it a quick blow before continuing. “This is, uh, really nice of you. I don’t… I don’t get a lot of that, around here.”

Bree grimaced. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. They’ll warm up to you eventually.” Kai shot them a skeptical glance, and Bree laughed. “Well, maybe. Some of them.”

Kai shook their head, smiling a little. “I knew what I was getting into when I moved here. I didn’t become a lightkeeper for the vibrant social life.”

Bree laughed, starting off through town and towards the lighthouse. They lapsed into silence (well, except for Kai’s increasingly desperate attempts at sniffling their nose into submission) until Bree tentatively offered, “Y’know, if you’re ever not feeling up to it, I could always deliver your groceries to the lighthouse. I’ll even give you a discount on it.”

She half expected Kai to refuse outright, but they surprised her with a thoughtful look. “You deliver?”

“I do a lot of things.” Bree shrugged, returning her attention to the road as they pulled up outside the lightkeeper’s cabin. “Seems easier than hiking all the way into town when you’re sick, though.”

Kai snorted amusedly, which turned out to be a mistake as it triggered another pair of harsh sneezes, hastily caught in their increasingly-sodden handkerchief. They moaned, snuffling into the cloth before gingerly removing it, some snot still clinging stubbornly to their flaring nostrils.

“Cad’t argue with that.” Kai tried to clear their nose with another quick blow, but it didn’t do them much good. “I’b pretty set for dow, but I could text you…?”

Bree grinned, pulling out her phone. She was never going to complain about another odd job in her roster, and if it gave her an excuse to lend their sickly lightkeeper a hand, well… She wasn’t going to complain about that, either.

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i wish u could poll on tumblr but in general how do we feel abt snz-irrelevant plot in our snzfics? do we prefer short and sweet snz-centric stories or longer ones where the illness reveal is a slow burn thing where theres stretches of text with no snz? im curious bc i like to read both but i also want to know if people have a preference

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3 and 7 from the ask game please!

Heya! :D

3) Do you write fics from start or finish, or jump around?

Oh I 100% jump around. My writing process is chaotic as hell but it usually goes something like this:

Write a rough list of major plot points / things I want to happen.

Pick a scene I feel motivated to write and take a first pass, leaving notes in any places where I have ideas but don't have the energy for execution.

Repeat with other plot points.

Refine and edit as I go.

Go back and decide I want to make a few (or more) structural changes.

Possibly rewrite the whole thing up to three times (thankfully this doesn't happen too often lmao).

Is this efficient? Not usually. But it works well enough for me. And idk I get to chuckle at the notes I leave myself, such as this one I just rediscovered on the Ro/nance fic I'm working on:

7) Which part of writing do you struggle with most?

I have a tough time getting and keeping writing momentum. I already write for a living, so it's often not easy to find the energy for recreational writing. Sometimes when I sit down to write fic I just end up staring at my word doc and writing maybe a paragraph or two in an hour. Burnout and perfectionistic habits can be rough.

Anyway, thanks for the ask!

Behind the Scenes of Fic Writing Asks

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You know what they say about ground being weak to grass 😏 (someone requested R¡ka…you’re a genius)

Don’t reblog to non-kink blogs!

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Behind the Scenes of Fic Writing: 30 Questions for Authors

What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

Do you participate in any writing events or challenges throughout the year? If so, what do you like about them?

Do you write fics from start or finish, or jump around?

Do you outline before you start writing? If so, how far do you stray from that outline?

What is the perfect environment for you to write in?

If you’re really concentrating, how many words can you write in a day?

Which part of writing do you struggle with most?

Do you listen to music while you write? If so, share a song that’s been inspiring you lately.

Do you prefer to write AUs, canon divergence, or canon-compliant fic?

Do you enjoy writing dialogue, exposition, or plot the most?

If you could only write angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your life, which would it be?

Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

Is there a trope you wouldn’t write if it was the last trope on earth?

If you were stuck on a desert island with only two characters, which would you pick?

A Hollywood producer tells you that they want to film just one of your fics. Which fic would you want it to be?

What is your most underrated fic?

What fic are you most proud of?

What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

Who is the easiest/hardest character for you to write about? Why?

What’s your favorite minor character you’ve written?

What is the one fic that got away?

Have you cried while writing a fic?

If you had to remix one of your own fics, which would it be and how would you remix it?

How did you come up with title for [x fic]?

Which idea came to you first in [x fic]?

Which part of [x fic] was the hardest to write?

If you were ever to do a sequel to [x fic], what do you think might happen in it?

In [x fic], what is a happy, post-fic headcanon you have about [pairing]?

Send me a word. If it’s in your WIPs, include the sentence and a short summary of the fic.

Tell us an idea for a longfic you want to write in the future.

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there will never be enough wlw and F/F sneeze fics i constantly crave more

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<< Rewind

1.4k words, St/ranger Th/ings — platonic Steve and Robin with brief hints of St/eddie and Ro/nance. As ever, Steve is only capable of worrying about others.

Written for @miserablebabes — I was your secret santa ^^

Thanks again to @softsnzstuff for organizing this!

Keep reading

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<< Rewind

1.4k words, St/ranger Th/ings — platonic Steve and Robin with brief hints of St/eddie and Ro/nance. As ever, Steve is only capable of worrying about others.

Written for @miserablebabes — I was your secret santa ^^

Thanks again to @softsnzstuff for organizing this!

It’s another slow evening at Family Video. Snow falls gently outside, bright silver against the thick cover of clouds. Hardly anyone’s out and about tonight — certainly not for the sake of renting a movie, at least.

That’s not to say there’s nothing to do around the store, though. Far from it. Although they obviously do their best to do as little actual work at Family Video as possible, Steve and Robin still recognize that Keith will be on their asses if they neglect regular upkeep.

The VHS tape rewinder clicks off, and Robin retrieves the rewound tape with a yawn. She fits the movie back in its plastic case and places it atop a growing mountain of movies to her right. Shifting back to the stack of movies on her left, she pulls another from its case and places it in the rewinder, turning it on with a soft click.

It’s all far too dull. On the other side of the customer service counter, Steve is fast asleep, head nestled between arms folded on the table. He must’ve dozed off while she was rummaging around in the back, Robin figures.

She considers letting him sleep. It’s not like she needs him to help deal with the store’s nonexistent patrons at the moment. But a hand with all the goddamn tapes in the return box would be nice. Well, that and she’d love to have someone to chat with. The Family Video is far from quiet — Back to the Future is playing on several screens throughout the store, its audio punctuated by the rhythmic whirring and clicking of the tape rewinder — but the white noise feels distressingly empty without their usual banter.

“Hey Dingus,” Robin says, ruffling Steve’s mess of big, stupid hair. “Have a nice nap?”

Steve groans awake at her touch. “Hands off the hair, Buckley.” The counter he’s resting his arms and head on is ungodly cold, so he clumsily forces himself upright on his tiny little stool, looking like he might start to lean too far one way or another and topple over.

Robin eyes him, unsure of where all this drowsiness is coming from. “You good? It would be nice to have some help sorting these tapes.”

“Shit, you’ve been doing that yourself all this time?” Steve runs a hand through his hair and casts a dazed glance over the stacks of movies scattered about the counter, then a concerned look back at his friend. She looks tired. “Hey, Robin?” Steve mumbles. “You don’t look great.”

“Wow, I bet you say that to all the girls.” Robin rolls her eyes and slides a few stacks of tapes over to Steve. “Scan these in.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.” He swipes a sluggish knuckle under his nose and gets to work on logging the returned tapes.

Robin shrugs, placing another movie in the rewinder. “I’ve been manning the store while you were knocked out. Perhaps you just might be able to find it in your heart to forgive me for having a few strands of hair out of place from running back and forth between the counter and the new releases. We can’t all look as flawless as Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington all the time.” She glances over at him, but her eyes snag on his slumped shoulders and pallid expression, and she’s suddenly aware that he really does not look flawless at the moment. Quite the opposite of flawless, actually.

Steve leans forward on the counter and rubs at his eyes, annoyed with himself both for falling asleep on the job and for his apparent inability to properly convey concern for a friend. “Right, sorry,” he says with a sniff. God, his head aches.

The VHS rewinder clicks off again, but Robin pauses before taking the tape out. Even if he is pretty out of it, she wasn’t expecting Steve to sound so dejected. When she chooses her next words, her voice is a little gentler. “You’re awfully concerned about me for someone who looks like he might keel over at any moment. What’s going on?”

“‘s nothing, guess I just didn’t sleep great last night.” His gaze is glossy and distant as he keys in the password to the computer, messing it up several times before typing it correctly. Before Robin can probe him further, his eyes narrow, then flutter shut, and Steve ducks to the side with a rough-sounding sneeze. “hiH- GKT’Sshhuh!”

“Mmm,” Robin hums. “You sound sick.”

Steve swipes his nose across his sleeve. “snnft. I guess, yeah.”

"You could’ve said something. Why drag yourself through the mud if you’re in bad shape?”

“Don’t be stupid, it’s just some dumb cold.” He sniffles again, thicker this time, and returns to scanning in tapes.

Robin raises an eyebrow. “You fell asleep at the customer service counter.”

“Really, Robin, it’s fine. ‘m awake now, good to go.”

“And now you’re scanning in movies from the stack you already scanned in.” She walks over to him and plops down on the stool next to his. “Sorry I woke you.”

“Is that an invitation to pass back out? I’d feel bad if I left you with all these goddamn tapes.” Steve gives her a weak smile, slumping back over the counter, chin propped up on folded arms.

“Something tells me you’d also feel bad if you kept yourself awake,” Robin says, brushing a gentle hand across his forehead.

“Christ, Buckley, what did I say about the hair?” Steve hisses, wincing and recoiling slightly.

“You’re burning up.”

“Figures,” he groans.

“Honestly, Steve.” Robin exhales a small sigh.

“Colds always make my head hurt like hell. 's normal.”

“I don’t know where you got that idea, but being this out of it is not normal.”

“No, I mean, like, it’s normal for me.” Steve pauses, an uneven breath sifting through his teeth. He presses his nose against his sleeve in an attempt to rub away the burning sensation prickling his sinuses. “ihheH- hehH’TCH’uhhh! Shit. snf. ghuuhh. Y’know. After all the, uh, the head trauma.”

Robin’s expression softens. “Steve - ”

“ihh-! hH’CHHUHshh!” The second sneeze wrenches through his chest, damp and breathless.

She watches him, shivering and sniffling and folded in on himself on his tiny little stool. Something close to guilt tightens in her chest, and she finds herself foolishly wishing she could rewind time like one of these VHS tapes and take a blow to the head or two in his place. It’s a completely unreasonable thought, but not any more unreasonable than Steve’s proven willingness to throw himself into danger for others’ sakes.

“snnft. ghuhh. Sorry.”

“You’ve gotta stop getting beaten up,” Robin says, handing him the tissue box from under the counter.

Steve exhales a bitter laugh and presses a tissue to his shiny-damp nose. “How else will I have any sense knocked into me?”

Robin slides several stacks of tapes aside and joins him in leaning forward on the counter. “So how many more concussions ‘til you figure out that you don’t have to be Mr. Tough Guy around the people you’ve gone through literal hell with?” Coming from anyone else, the question would’ve sounded accusatory, but the way Robin asks it, staring off into the empty winter night just beyond the front door, she mostly just sounds forlorn.

“How many more concussions? snnft. Yeah, how many.” It’s not intentional, but he’s doing a great job matching her tone, he realizes. Steve rests his head back between his arms and closes his eyes. The lights in the Family Video are way too goddamn bright.

“I’m gonna go grab you some painkillers and call Eddie, okay?”

Before she can get up, Steve speaks up. “Robin, hold on.”

“...?”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks.

“You already apologized, Dingus. It’s fine. Gross colds happen to everyone.”

“No, I mean - ” he pauses to rub his nose against his wrist. “ - I’m sorry I’m, I dunno, such an overconfident idiot.”

Robin tilts her head. “Don’t be. That overconfident idiot has saved my ass a few times. I just wish he was a bit kinder to himself.”

“I can try,” Steve says with a sniff.

“Good.”

“Also,” Steve cracks open an eye to meet Robin’s gaze. It’s weak, but there’s a sly smile creeping across his lips. “Since when do you carry painkillers on you?”

“Shut up.”

“Nance insisted, didn’t she?”

“Shut up!” Robin laughs. If he wasn’t in such bad shape, she would’ve shoved Steve right off his stool for that.

“Yeah, she’s a real walking pharmacy, huh?”

“Frankly, Steve, in an ideal world, everyone around you should be a walking pharmacy. You have all the self-preservation of a wet paper towel.”

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obsessed with that new pok*m*n game (and shipping these two)

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accidentally found my first shiny in P/okemon V/iolet today