K | she/they | 20s | minors DNI (age/range in bio please) | don't reblog to non-snz blogs | asks always open :)
Last active 60 minutes ago
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Text
i need co/nnor dbh snz so bad guys drop ur hcs 🙏 i need to share
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
who on here posted about m/outhw/ashing who WAS IT !!!
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
Op I would eat up anything w/ Tim that you write but since you're askin' ,,,,maybe cat allergies with a lil bit of timsasha? 👀 -Tim anon
hello!! this took me so long to finish oh gosh... however here is Tim and Sasha ft. Tim with cat allergies!! also i'm not sure if you wanted it more on the romantic side but it didn't quite go that way when i was writing it, i'm sorry!!! i hope you will enjoy either way :')
“Happy new flat!”
Tim thrusts the bouquet of flowers out in front of him, a shimmery gift bag hanging precariously from his wrist. He peeks round the edges of the daisies to see Sasha in the doorway, clad in pyjamas and a cardigan that’s swallowing her, giving him a bemused smile.
“Sorry, is eleven am on a Saturday too early for you? Need some more beauty sleep?” he teases. Sasha rolls her eyes.
“Come on in. I was just making coffee.”
When he steps inside, there is indeed the heady scent of coffee in the air, along with the telltale burbling of a percolator atop a stove. Sasha regards him with amusement as he slips his shoes off excitedly.
“So? Are you going to give me the tour?”
“Slow down,” she laughs, “We’re having coffee first, Mister Morning Person. And,” she raises an eyebrow, “I won’t let you hold my present hostage for that much longer.”
“Greedy,” Tim quips, but holds up his one free hand to show his acquiescence. Sasha takes the flowers from him as she leads him into the kitchen.
It’s light and airy, filled with light wooden countertops and morning sunlight. Tim can see the beginnings of a few touches of Sasha herself: her favourite mug waiting beside the stovetop, tea towels with brightly geometric patterns, a clock in the shape of a daisy on the wall.
She locates a vase for the real daisies and sets about arranging them, her soft, sage green sleeves pulled up to the elbow. Tim allows himself a smile as he sees her linger to touch their petals gently, to get them just right.
“Thank you for these,” she says, a smile in her eyes as she holds out a hand, “Now the gift.”
“Fine, fine! It’s like you’re not even happy to see me.” He hands it over anyway, watching the grin unfurl as she opens the bag.
“Oh!” She says with a laugh. In her hands is a framed photo, one of the two of them, a stupid photo snapped when they were a little too drunk at the last Christmas party. They’re clinging to each other, cheek-to-cheek, grinning ecstatically for the camera. Inexplicably, they’re both covered in glitter, and the camera has caught it in violet and silver glimmers on their cheekbones. “I’ll give it pride of place.”
“You had better,” Tim tells her. The coffee pot begins to whistle, and he wanders over to remove it from the heat. Sasha tails him, retrieving a second mug from the nearest cupboard. “The next time I come over, I expect to see it. If you lock it away in a cupboard somewhere, I swear to god…”
“I would never,” she laughs. “Mostly because you have easy access to the coffee I drink in the office, and I wouldn’t put it past you to poison me out of spite.”
“I would never!” Tim echoes, a dramatic hand pressed to his chest, before he turns to pour them each a cup of coffee. “This is a lovely kitchen, you know.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Sasha says warmly. “There’s so much more space than in my old flat, and-oh, bless you!” She reaches out a hand to steady Tim’s own as he directs a sudden sneeze into the crook of his elbow. “Please don’t spill the coffee.”
“Sorry, sorry!” He replies, half-sniffling, half-laughing. Spills averted, they take their mugs to the kitchen table.
“Who took that photo, by the way? I barely remember it being taken,” Sasha asks as she sits down.
“Funny you should ask that,” Tim says, “Actually, it was-oh, hello, who are you?” His eyes flicker down towards the floor to rest on the cat that’s just wandered into the kitchen, sleek and black with perfectly round copper-coloured eyes.
“Oh! I forgot.” Sasha gestures between the two of them with a hand. “Tim, Seabiscuit. Seabiscuit, Tim. I’m looking after him for a uni friend.”
Tim squints at Seabiscuit, who sits down opposite his chair and fixes those bright coppery eyes directly on him.
“Seabiscuit, huh? He doesn’t look much like a horse.”
He holds a hand out. After a moment, the cat deigns to rise and sniff at his fingers. A second later, and he’s purring, pushing his head against Tim’s hand.
“I knew you two would get along,” Sasha smiles, taking a sip of her coffee. Tim just chuckles, rubbing Seabiscuit’s ears before he returns to his own mug.
He takes a large swig, concentrating on the way the coffee scalds his tongue, trying to distract himself from the way each breath is beginning to bring with it an inevitable itch. The sneeze when they were making coffee no longer seems so insignificant.
“So, who did take the photo?” Sasha asks.
“Oh yeah,” Tim rubs at his nose with the back of a hand, “It was Jon.”
“Wait, wait wait. He was there? I thought he didn’t go to office parties?”
“Me too, but- well. Martin s-said-” He breaks off, frowning, still rubbing fitfully at his nose. His breath is just on the edge of catching, his eyes burning now, and he only just has the presence of mind to uncurl his fingers from round his coffee mug before-
“hh-KTSHH-uh!...huh-...huh’KTSCH-uu!-fff-fuck, sorry.” His apology is premature. He twists to the side again, a third, more desperate sneeze tearing against his throat. “huh’TSCHUU!-ohhh, god.”
“Woah, Tim, bless you!”
Scrubbing at his eyes, he doesn’t see Sasha’s quick glance between him and Seabiscuit, still loitering near his chair. Decisively, she stands and circles the table to pick up the cat, carrying him gently from the room. As she goes, she says over her shoulder, “You could have told me sooner you’re allergic to cats!”
Tim, sniffling persistently now, grimaces. “I forget sometimes!” He calls back, before sneezing again, twice, into the crook of his arm.
When Sasha returns, it’s with a box of tissues and a packet of antihistamines. “Your eyes are going all puffy,” she says as she sets them down in front of him and goes to fetch a glass of water. “Should I be concerned?” There’s a bite of anxiety underlying her voice that belies her genuine worry.
“No, no,” Tim waves her off and grabs a tissue, taking a moment to blow his nose before he answers. “Cats just make me… huh’KSHHuu!-ugh. Yknow, itchy and sneezy. Nothing life-threatening.” He accepts the water and downs one of the pills with practiced ease.
“Yeah, I can tell,” Sasha says. When Tim raises an eyebrow at her, she cocks her head to one side, regarding him. “The puffy eyes are a good look on you. Very love-sick romance protagonist.”
Tim makes a face and grabs another tissue to sniffle into.
“Why did you call him over if you’re allergic to cats?”
“God, Sasha, who do you take me for? I like cats-” His breath stutters and he smothers another sneeze into the tissue, followed by a groan. “They just don’t like me. Adorable little bastards.”
Sasha shakes her head, a smile on her lips. “Next time you’re coming over, I’ll stock up on antihistamines.”
“Got it, boss.” Tim gives her a thumbs up. “I still want the-...hh-....hh’KKSHHuh!-...the tour of the whole place. You’re not getting out of it just because of this.”
“Bless you!” She pulls a fresh tissue from the box and holds it out to him. “Let’s wait for the pills to kick in properly first. Then I’ll show you around, I promise.”
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
On the subject of the ever-intimate hand-to-forehead fever check. Of course I love the classics — “You’re burning up,” “You’re really warm,” etc but, for your consideration:
“That’s a fever.”
Decisive. Objective. Authoritative. It isn’t a question, it isn’t just a possibility, it’s a point of fact. It is so very obviously a fever that it can be referred to by the term itself rather than with subjective descriptions of warmth. No further inquiry is required, it was confirmed the instant a cool hand met skin that is much, much too hot. The one last piece of evidence for a conclusion they had, for the most part, already come to.
281 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love me someone who covers their sneezes with a limp wrist
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
why am i still seeing posts surrounding non consensual contagion that is NOT hot.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
! ! DO NOT REBLOG TO NON-SNZ KINK BLOGS, WILL RESULT IN A BLOCK ! !
Thank you everyone who encouraged me to upload my art! Here's to a snz art beginning (lol) Teasing you with A simple sketch for starters... Will post more Detailed stuff if you guys enjoy this.
I don't believe it rains only when the h/ydro dragon is crying... :^) Do What you want with this information.
Try to convince me he doesn't get the nastiest colds with the runniest nose, spoiler, you can't!
Also he's DEFO whiny about how he can't work, about how the people of f/ontaine need him etc.
ALSO HIS SNEEZES ARE DAD SNEEZES 100%
Neu/vil/let/te my beloved.
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sneezing so hard/loud that instead of a blessing they earn a “woah” from anyone around them.
130 notes
·
View notes
Text
my hc is That j/ayce generally runs warm hes a warm guy . but when he’s sick he gets weirdly cold and never knows how to deal w it,, hes just constantly shivering w these awful chills cause he isnt used to being so cold
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
j/ayce cannot stifle or hold back to save his life i know this btw he told me
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
why are blogs being hidden for mature content on ios. what is going on
0 notes
Text
my hc is That j/ayce generally runs warm hes a warm guy . but when he’s sick he gets weirdly cold and never knows how to deal w it,, hes just constantly shivering w these awful chills cause he isnt used to being so cold
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
men should be shivering pathetically more…
135 notes
·
View notes
Text
Currently at work thinking about someone's sneeze sound changing depending on their mood. Like imagine someone's voice rising in frustration and suddenly they sneeze, the tone harsher and just as frustrated as their words.
"I don't know! It juhh— hisSHHEEW! It just happened!"
Especially if the person usually sneezes softly or politely, but suddenly they're angry and their sneezes are angry too 🥺 i love it sm
103 notes
·
View notes
Note
The way I know the exact ao3 user other anon was talking about and have been binging their caitvi LMAO
ABSKSJDHSD OMG great minds think alike
i skimmed one of their fics it seems so lovely im gonna have to read more properly soon
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
if you find anything caitvi snz lmk bc i am SEARCHINGGG. loved the new zen fic and there's someone on ao3 called derpydonuts that writes SO MUCH snz for caitvi but i can't tell if they're just a rlly crazy vanilla or a snzfucker in the closet bc all of the spellings are really suspicious... idk
YES ANON OFC I WILL 🫶 also im planning on writing some c/aitvi myself so…. yeah …
also im gonna go check them out right now oh my god thank u
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
ok so we all agree caitlyn kiramman will stifle until she physically can't anymore, until she has the itchiest most rapid fit, and she HATES it, saying "excuse me" after each one, or at least trying. and she only uses handkerchiefs and ONLY ones with the little kiramman insignia on them. and vi will encourage her not to stifle, like whenever she starts hitching she'll be saying "all the way out, don't stifle" AUGHHHHHHHHHHHH I CARE THEM
For you, my liege 🫡
All The Way Out for Me, Cupcake (Arcane)
Caitlyn Kiramman paces back and forth at the front of the room, arms behind her back, chin up as she does when she addresses her soldiers as commander. Violet watches just behind her, leaning against a dusty chalkboard with her thick arms braided above her neck, fingers running circles over the shaved part of her hair--something sensory to keep her grounded.
Not everyone approves of Vi having special treatment--being able to be so close to the commander, especially during prep speeches. Especially with their past. Especially when--
“Hh--snf!” Caitlyn’s words warble and she unclasps her hands to bring one up for a nose rub. Then resumes her powerful stride. “I want you all to be prepared. I want--” her thin nostrils flare--wider than Vi used to believe such a dignified woman could, “HvFm!” she knocks the stifle away with a flick of her knuckle and sips a breath, “Excuse me--” continues her strut. “We must engage the enemy--KxtS!”
Vi rolls her silver eyes. Cmon Cupcake. All the way out.
But her girlfriend is a chronic stifler. Especially in public. She continues to pair each stifle with a pinch, an “excuse me” and one perfectly booted strut. Pinch. HxsT! “Excuse me…” Strut. Pinch. IgFm! “excu--”
Vi tuts and shakes her head, feathered bangs ticking her cheek. She knows this will continue until those stifles turn into full releases. And Cait Kiramman will fight it like a cagematch for hours.
Cait's nose begins to run and her eyes water as she gasps through another clipped sentence.
“We will make a di-hpxS! Direct-MxPH!” She pats at her breast pocket, tiny wrinkles forming between her eyes as she hunts her signature kerchief.
But she won't find it. Because earlier, she was using it to dab sweat off Vi's brow and left it with her.
Vi cracks a grin as Caitlyn dips once again into a slew of “Htx-eh-xcuse--Shx-eh!! Exc-cuu-hkChz! KmGH!!” Until she is using both zealous hands to press and stem the flow of her allergic fit.
Finally, Vi catches her attention and Cait's eyes land on the sigil luxuriously embroidered on the handkerchief Vi is waving smugly in her direction.Vi cups one hand over her mouth sassily and mouths: If you want it, sneeze like you mean it.
Caitlyn's cheeks flush deep as apples and her lips form that cute bow shape that makes Vi want to dive into them even though she's covered in--
Caitlyn jerks her chin and mouths back: Not a ch-”Chx!” This one bends her slightly at the waist and now the crowd is murmuring…noticing their commander is perhaps under some sort of duress.
Vi wiggles her brow at Cait and shimmies, using the handkerchief as a prop for a sultry dance, embarrassing her more than a few simple sneezes. C’mon Cupcake. Just one. All the way out. For me?
Caitlyn gives a half growl, half sigh. “Fine,” she mutters out loud, and about faces so her back is to the soldiers who are looking so confused at the strange show, but are mostly used to this kind of behavior from both Cait and Vi.
Vi slides up to her and smirks, “That’s a good girl.”
With an angry swipe, Caitlyn snatches her beloved kerchief and buries her raw abused nose into the heavenly cloth. She instantly relaxes and inhales so deeply she feels her ribs strain.
“Hie'ieh!”
Vi squeezes her girlfriend's arm, reassuring. Don't be self conscious. It's just a--
“AiiiSHH-AYEEUUU!” The full release warms the cloth, shudders her shoulders, and makes the normally stone rigid soldier stagger with the force of it.
Vi beams with pride and takes it upon herself to offer death glares to anyone behind Cait who might look upon her with any amount of judgement for her sneezing. She even flexes for good measure.
Caitlyn blearily comes up for air and recovers fast, smoothing her uniform and hair. “Do I, ahrm, still look--”
“Badass? Rebellious? Commandeering? Sexy?”
Cait snorts, “Oh shut up.” She about-faces again and resumes her air of authority as if nothing had happened. “Apologies. Now…” she continues pacing, the only evidence of her previous fit a small pink tint to her nostrils. And maybe a few stray blue hairs.
#oh my actual god#this is SO GOOD. GOODDDDDDDDDDD#c/ait my beloved this is so so so amazing so in character so perfect#thank u for the food#a/rcane
53 notes
·
View notes