#or my sneezes lol

[farthertothemoon]

It's ok to have bad days when you're healing. It's ok to have regressions even if its "been some time." It's ok to say "no, I can't do this right now" or "I need some time." It's ok to heal how you need to.

You experienced something no person should ever have to go through and you've fought every day to stay afloat. You are strong. You are powerful. You are worth it. Life moves forward and so do you. Every single day you make progress. You may not see it, but it's happening. You have something to be proud of.

You are loved, even if some days you feel utterly alone. Once again, you are worth it.

[medicalunprofessional]

never change, man !

[lover-of-mine]

#Allergies season be like

[apolaskiart]

Get yourself friends who will support your ironic relationship through the medium of marketable plushies

[snzluv3r]

dying for that wav so I shall be the messenger 🫡rubbing ur nose makes u sneeze ❤️

somebody else sent me an anon for nose rubbing leading to sneezes, as my unmedicated allergies have left my nose so sensitive that i can’t even touch it without sneezing, but i posted the wrong audio so “make a wav about it” anon, this is for you <3

contains so much hitching, RAPID sneeze, nose rubbing sounds leading immediately to sneezing

[sneezyonmain]

Today on this wonderful June day I am thinking about a dark-haired, toned man in his early to mid-20s, who is a chronic workaholic. He's got some standard corporate job and wears suits that don't do justice to the body underneath, save for when he rolls up his sleeves to reveal his sculpted arms.

I am thinking about such a man catching an unfortunate cold, but simply shoving a pack of tissues into the pocket of his suit, taking a double dose of Dayquil, and forcing himself to go to work anyway. He's not the type to miss a day of work, nor is he the type to appear weak, even though his face is pale, his cheeks are flushed, and his nose is an angry pink.

I am thinking about him throughout the course of the day, insisting he's fine. He's sniffling his way through meetings, suppressing weak coughs, and not so discreetly blowing his nose when he thinks no one is looking.

I am thinking about him unfortunately discovering that this is a particularly itchy cold, as the medicine slowly wears off. He's holding his breath as he goes through the halls, only to swiftly shut the door to hide his dripping, red nose and the bags under his eyes. He spends hours straining to focus on his work, but he has to pause so frequently to scrub at his nose with a finger, trying to suppress the tickle that won't subside. His trash bin soon overflows with tissues.

I am thinking about how the day nears its end, he begins to think he may have gotten away with his little ruse. There's just over an hour until he can go home and rest, only a short while that he must continue to pretend to be well.

I am thinking about his rival and co-worker, perhaps an occasional lover, who is equally ambitious and eager to tease him. I am thinking that they have certainly noticed his not-so-subtle sniffling, and heard the stifles even through the walls of his office. I am thinking they find him, either out of a desire to gently bully him or maybe pity. They walk to his desk with a knowing look, eyeing his muscular arms past his rolled-up sleeves as he shoves more tissues in the bin, and they remark on his strange behavior.

"I'm fine," He insists, and he intends to continue. His rival intends to interrupt, to tease him about his sniffles and his tired expression, but they don't get a chance.

I am thinking about the way his breath hitches, and his rival's expression shifts. I'm thinking about the way his arms and shoulders flex, his nostrils flaring. The first word of his next sentence gives way to a buildup, and he realizes with annoyance that oh shit, they're wearing that damned perfume, the one that always makes his sinuses itch and burn. He's so tired at that point and so caught off guard by the irritant that he can't even bother to get a tissue, his whole torso is tense and his lungs shakily fill with air. He lets out his first unstifled sneeze of the day, and is causes his body to lurch forward with a force that startles even him.

His rival is left standing, lightly sprayed and surprised, and all he can let out is an exhausted "--guhh". He wipes his nose with his wrist and makes eye contact with them. All they can think of is that he really needs a nap, preferably in their bed.

[suddencolds]

insatiable appetite [1/?]

sooo... this is one of the thirstiest things i have written—and also one of the only times i've written a character with the kink, ever T.T warnings in advance for mess, character getting sneezed on, implied contagion, possible ooc-ness, & me writing this entirely with my d instead of my head

ivan and till are from al//ien sta//ge (a very fun watch which will only take 30 mins out of your life; i really recommend it!!). that said, this fic takes place in a modern au setting, so feel free to read it without any prior context :)

special thanks to @6pmsoup for sending me a very cute alnst doodle of these two which altered my brain chemistry permanently

—

Summary: Till shows up to a dinner outing with a brewing cold. Ivan suffers. (est. relationship, kink!Ivan, ~2k words)

—

For all Till tries to hide it, Ivan can tell immediately.

There’s this: Ivan has been paying attention to Till for most of his life. A full decade before they’d gotten together officially, and some more—this is how long Ivan has had to observe his tells. Always from the sidelines, always with a detached air of indifference that, in reality, was anything but.

All the signs are there the night before. Till, turning up the thermostat a couple degrees higher than he usually keeps it. Spending a little too long in the shower and using up almost all of the hot water. Clearing his throat one too many times in the morning before Ivan leaves for work, his smile distracted, the rasp of his voice nearly indistinguishable—but only nearly.

Now, Till is here for dinner—it’s a dinner they’ve had plans for a couple weeks now, at one of the nicer restaurants downtown, in celebration of Till’s recent promotion. Ivan had booked the reservation a couple weeks in advance.

When Till arrives, stepping out of a taxi cab, he’s wearing a scarf, even though the weather is too warm for it. Ivan steps up to meet him. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Till says. “Traffic here was the worst I’ve ever seen it, swear to god.”

“Was it cold outside today?” Ivan asks, a little pointedly, tilting his head towards his scarf.

Till looks at him, his expression unreadable. Then he nods. “Colder than usual, for this time of year.”

“Strange,” Ivan says, just to be difficult. “But the weather forecast says it’s the same temperature today as yesterday.” 

“It’s probably just windier today,” Till says, readjusting his scarf around his neck. His face is a little flushed.

“Your voice sounds a little off, though.”

Till clears his throat with a scowl. “You must be imagining it,” he says. “It always sounds like this.”

No admission, then. That’s fine. Ivan will get the truth out of him at some point. He lets Till guide him into the restaurant.

It’s a nice restaurant—worth the hassle of the reservation, Ivan thinks. Each table is set with flowers arranged tastefully in long glass vases, empty wine glasses turned on their heads. The server—who leads them to their table in a small, private booth—is wearing a suit.

It’s a shame, really. Ivan has a feeling that he won’t be able to pay attention to any of that tonight.

They sit. Ivan looks down at the menu, picks out something at random in a matter of seconds. Truthfully, he can hardly think of anything less worth his attention right now. He turns his attention to Till instead—Till, who’s seated directly across from him, the scarf still around his neck, obscuring the lower half of his face. 

Till sniffles, reaching down to turn the page, and oh. The sniffle is terribly liquid—has he been sniffling like that all afternoon? Perhaps it’s a good thing that they work at different offices—Till at a law firm, Ivan as a senior manager at a consulting company—because Ivan certainly doesn’t think he’d be able to get any work done with Till sniffling like that. 

It’s not two minutes later that Till is reaching up to wipe his nose against the back of one knuckle. All in all, it’s discreet. Just a quick brush of the fingers against his nose, which is still hidden under the scarf. Though, the look of sheer ticklishness that passes over his features for a brief moment there is...

“What are you thinking of ordering?” Ivan asks.

“I can’t decide,” Till answers. He turns the page again. “It’s between the ribeye steak and the… snf! The pork belly. Is this the kind of place that skimps on the portion sizes?”

“Not from their Yelp reviews,” Ivan says. “You know, if you really can’t decide, I can flip a coin.”

“I’ll pick,” Till says. “Why? Hungry already?”

He looks up, now. His eyes are a little watery. There’s a faint flush over the bridge of his nose. Ivan thinks that if he reached out and touched him, he’d probably be running warm. The thought is almost unbearable.

“Your taxi did take forever to arrive,” Ivan says, by way of explanation. 

“Did you really wait that long?”

He looks uncertain, for a moment. Ivan says, “Not at all. But you know, I’m always impatient when it comes to you.”

Till rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “There was a meeting that ran late. I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“Is that also a part of your new position?” “I guess so, yeah.”

“I can see why they were eager to promote you, then,” Ivan says. “How productive can late afternoon meetings be, anyways?”

Till snorts. “Not that important. It definitely could have been an email instead. I was about ready to doze off.”

He sniffles again. “Okay. I think I know what I want.” The way he says know betrays the slightest hint of congestion. 

“At long last,” Ivan says, just to be a little bit of an ass. “I’ll call over the waiter.”

He flags their waiter down, waits for Till to order first.

“A spiced apple cider,” Till adds on, at the end, with the slightest of coughs. “Hot, if you can.”

That’s new, too. Till seldom orders hot drinks at restaurants, though he’ll drink tea without complaint if it’s offered. Perhaps his throat hurts, then, from the cold that has clearly started to settle in his system. Subtle, still, but Ivan is familiar with colds like this. He knows it will probably only be a few hours before this deceptively “small” cold turns into…

Ivan orders, too, and thanks the waiter, who leaves with a curt nod. When he looks back over to Till, there’s a… strange something to Till’s expression, a slight distractedness. Irritation.

Ivan swallows hard. He should look away. 

He should, but then, Till’s breath hitches. He pulls the scarf higher over his face preemptively, as if he anticipates having something to have to cover for. The sharp intake of breath that follows is breathy, though Ivan can hear Till’s voice in it. He should really look away.

Instead, he takes the scene in, painstakingly, little by little, as Till’s shoulders jerk forwards. As Till presses a hand to the scarf, presses the fabric closer to his face, to muffle a sneeze into his fingertips:

“hhH-Ih!! hiHH-’IESCHH-eew-!”

God. It sounds utterly miserable, the harsh release of it scraping against his throat, the spray tearing into his scarf. It’s the kind of cold sneeze that is undeniably telling: this is going to be one hell of a cold. It’s not very quiet, either, even muffled into the fabric.

For more reasons than one, Ivan is glad they’re in a private corner of the restaurant, not somewhere more public.

“Bless you,” he offers, once he can trust himself to speak. It’s a good thing that Till is too distracted to look up at him right now. Ivan isn’t sure he can keep what he’s feeling off of his face.

Truthfully, he isn’t sure he’s going to be able to endure a whole night of this.

The problem here is that Till—Till, of all people; Till, who Ivan has been pathetically in love with for almost as long as he can remember—has no idea about Ivan’s… relatively niche interests. That is to say, he has no idea what effect it has on Ivan when he does that.

“Thanks,” Till says, a little stuffily. He sniffles again, lowering his hand. 

Ivan can’t help it. He knows he shouldn’t pursue this line of questioning, but he can feel his self-control dwindling by the second. “Don’t you think it would be better to take off your scarf, now that we’re inside?”

Till freezes. “Y-You know what,” he says evasively. “It’s pretty cold in here.”

Ivan tilts his head in question. “And just how do you plan on eating like that?”

“I’ll take it off when our food comes.”

“I can ask the waiter to turn the temperature up, if it’s a problem,” Ivan says. 

“It’s not a problem.”

Ivan rises from his seat. Till watches him, perplexed, as he heads to the opposite side of the table, where Till is seated.

When he gets there, he stops. Stands, unmoving, so he can study Till from above. 

“What are you—”

Ivan reaches out, settles his palm across Till’s forehead. As expected, it’s warm. Not quite feverish, which is a good sign, but warm enough to be notable. 

“Just how long were you intending to hide this?”

Till stares back at him, wide-eyed. “Hide what?”

Shouldn’t it be obvious? “The fact that you have a cold.”

“I didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” Till says, slowly.

“Hmm.” Ivan drops his hand to his side. He is a little concerned, now. “We could’ve called a rain check.”

This time Till really does roll his eyes. “For the reservation we planned weeks ahead?” he sniffles again. “That just sounds completely and utterly unnecessary. Are you the type of person to call things off just over a little cold?” 

Ivan leans over, tugs down the edge of Till’s scarf. Till bats his hand away just a moment too late, cups his other hand over his face to shield his face from view. For a moment, he looks faintly mortified.

Then his expression settles into something more disgruntled. “What are you doing?” he hisses.

So uncooperative. “Let me see,” Ivan says. Slowly, gently, he pries Till’s hands away from his face, and then—because the restaurant is dimly lit—tilts Till’s face up slightly so that it catches more of the overhead light. 

Till’s nose is redder than usual. He’s probably been rubbing it all afternoon, if the redness that percolates into his cheeks is any indication. There’s  a damp, liquid sheen on the underside of his nose.

“What’s there to see?” Till says, a little crossly.

“Your face, since you’ve been so intent on hiding it under that scarf,” Ivan says, leaning in to get a better look.

Till scowls at him, but there’s no heat to it. “You see my face every day.”

“On the contrary, I don’t see it nearly enough,” Ivan says. “And you hardly ever get sick. Is it so wrong for me to be concerned?”

Without looking, he reaches behind him with one hand to grab a couple cocktail napkins. The other hand he keeps held up to Till’s cheek. 

But then, Till’s breath hitches. “Wait,” he says. Panic flashes through his face. “Ivan, move, I—”

Oh. Well, seeing as there’s no way he’ll be able to get the napkins over in time, it looks like he’ll have to improvise. If Till wants to cover, Ivan can help with that. He moves his hand to cup it loosely over Till’s mouth. Not a second too late, it seems. Till jerks forward unceremoniously, his nose twitching, his eyes squeezing shut.

“hHheh-! HHh’EIITShHh’yYiew!” he gasps sharply. Two? “Hh-! hHiiH’DSSCSSHh-IIew!”  

The jolt of the sneezes is practically electrifying—all of that force, brought to an abrupt halt behind Ivan’s waiting palm. He feels the expulsion of air against his skin, the warmth of Till’s breath, feels the slight dampness behind his hand as the spray mists over his fingertips.

Ivan swallows, hard. Thank god it’s so dark here, otherwise Till might notice what this is doing to him. 

“Bless you,” he says, withdrawing his hand at last to wipe it on one of the cloth napkins. It comes out slightly raspier than he intends it to, though perhaps it’s a miracle that he’s still able to talk at all. “Some cold, hmm?” Belatedly, he hands Till the stack of napkins.

Till practically snatches them from him, turns aside to blow his nose wetly into the top few. The way he sniffles afterwards suggests that his nose is still very much running. 

“Do you have no self preservation? It’s as if you want to catch this,” Till says, drawing back with another sniffle.

Oh, Ivan thinks, fighting back a shiver. That would be far from the worst thing.

[keepyourpantsongohan]

Entertaining Highlights from Naruto Retsuden:

Kakashi being compared to both a mountain goat and a sloth in the span of a single page!!

For some reason, in a world of near entirely names of Japanese (or very rarely, English) origin, there's a blind astronomer named Jean-Marc Tatar, seemingly the only French man in the history in the Naruto universe, who is also friends with Ninja God.

This exchange between Sakura and Naruto: “Same old idiot as always.” “Me? Sasuke?” “Both of you, obviously.”

The reveal that there's a nap room next to the Hokage's office!

The insane reveal that Orochimaru has developed a pair of goggles that look exactly like Obito's from when he was kid but give you the power to use the Byakugan?!

Naruto perfectly landing motorcycle jump over a cat with zero practice while being shot at by laser beam drones??

Naruto's little antisocial scientist friend repeatedly saying how much she doesn't need friends and Naruto going, “I’m not gonna force you to connect with people or whatever, you know,” like that hasn't been how he's resolved every conflict he's ever had.

The incredibly specific take from Yamato that by himself he can raise a mokuton pillar 310,000 feet into the air to support the weight of a motorcycle. Babygirl. Why do you know this!!

Sakura, Sasuke and Naruto having this impressive little adventure in the clouds before it immediately cuts to Sai also thousands of feet in the air slowly suffocating of altitude sickness, who unlike them doesn't have an oxygen tank, because Shikamaru is not a medic but also maybe an idiot.

Sakura realizing that Sasuke is about to do something incredibly dangerous so they share a little kiss above Naruto's head (on a motorcycle, 660,000 feet vertically in the air).

[uncanny-tranny]

I know other adults like to joke about how much pain they're in, but genuinely, please try to get your pain checked out if you're an adult experiencing it, or at least adapt your life in whatever way lessens your pain.

Your pain deserves to be addressed. Please don't "let" it get worse because you've been told that to grow older is to suffer. No, you aren't being needy or selfish or annoying. Ultimately, you are the one who suffers the most from the state of your health, and it's entirely reasonable to want your health to be up to your standards.

[nostrildamus]

had a good time playing around with inducing today, my nose was super sensitive and I found a reeeeeeally tickly spot. also played around with doing some vocalizations before I sneeze just for fun. Ummmmmm enjoy 🫣

(forgive the weird shifting shadow video, couldn't convert it to just an audio this time lol)

[clovesnz]

Contains: talking, whining that might sound a lil nsfw, dramatic buildups, false starts, mentions and graphic sounds of mess, a smol cough.

Not as much sneezing as the prev one but I went out to the car for privacy and just let myself make a mess and…yeah. Ya gal is snotty. It was kind of a relief though, I’ve been half-stifling sneezes all day and trying to keep my nose from running so good to just let it all go

[temporarilyunspokensneezes]

Horny contagion thoughts

Someone who only cares about not making a mess because it's embarrassing, not because they're worried about spreading their cold. So in large groups they pinch off their sneezes, duck away to cough if they really can't keep it in. But around those one or two people who they feel comfortable around, they sneeze freely, cough openly even when facing the person and without covering. They'll grab a tissue while building up but use it post-sneeze to wipe away the mess on the back of their hand, never even considering that they could just sneeze into the tissue to begin with. Contagion is simply something that doesn't even cross their mind to worry about. Sick or not.

[snzluv3r]

What about an allergy denial scenario?

ask and you shall receive (six months later <3)

here’s my first attempt at a proper allergy denial scenario where you gift me flowers that i insist i couldn't possibly be allergic to as i apologetically sneeze all over them, not wanting to spoil such a beautiful gesture. lots of hitching and some very harsh sneezes

[koreofitall]

I really love an intense "hhHADT-!" followed by a VERY soft sneeze.

[nametakensff]

Posting these four sneezes I managed to actually record yesterday! I'm never normally fast enough lol so I was excited to catch them

Also tried to make them sound more like an "achoo" but pretty sure I failed at that

Adding a little screenshot of the past 6 days of snz stats because I know they are appreciated:

[icantalk710]

This semi-mild cold has been an annoying start to this week 🤧😪