#snz ocs
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mamabirbsnz · 2 days ago
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CW: T/odd x Listener, allergy denial, pollen allergies, sniffling, sneezing (obviously), harsh-ish sneezes, breathy (sometimes wheezy) buildups, false starts, stuck sneezes, whiny hitching, (late) Valentine's Day wav
Summary: T/odd got you your favorite flowers for Valentine's Day. Unfortunately, your favorite flowers just happened to be the kind he is most allergic to: chrysanthemums. He refuses to admit his allergy, being the stubborn man that he is.
Happy Valentine's Day!- Oh wait, it's over? I KNOW I KNOW I'M SORRY OKAY?? 😭😭😭 I was busy spending time with my bf and I prioritized that because he can only come up to visit a few times a year. One of the things we did was make this wav tho (yes that's my bf voicing T/odd) 😏 in which I induced him LIVE in our hotel room 🫨🫨🫨
It was awesome and very hot, too bad y'all couldn't see his big ol nose twitch like an adorable little rabbit. 🫠🫠🫠 I included a bonus blooper too. Yknow, to be cute :P I guess it's not really a blooper, just a silly thing I said to him at the end of the recording.
And yes I know it's similar to my original valentine's day wav from 2 years ago, but hey. T/odd is my most popular oc on here and flowers make sense for valentine's day so here you go 😂🫠
Please enjoy!
-Macaw 🦜
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sky-snz · 3 days ago
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Brewing, Stirring (M)
in that when he’s ill, Jonah can fall asleep or zone out just about anywhere. two short recounts.
(1.5k words)
-
I. The Fall Show
Jonah had fallen asleep at the piano twice in the past three days. Not the midi keyboard, the upright piano, which they’d moved into their house from his parents’. It was a beautiful old thing made from maple, scratched and beaten, but trusty and comfortable. In a variety of ways, perhaps.
Lily would catch him pacing in the living room, holding pieces of paper. He’d lean towards the piano and drum something out with his long fingers, once, twice - then sigh and keep pacing.
One evening after completing the line work on a new project, she pulled on her warm beige cardigan and headed downstairs. As her fingers did up the buttons, she wondered what she could prepare for dinner. She spotted Jonah’s frame slumped heavily over the piano, in a new strange position. Her fuzzy socks shuffled quietly over to him. 
His shaggy head faced away from her, laid on top of one of his long arms, which was bent and resting on the open piano lid. Lily heard low, crackly snores. Coming around behind him, she saw his other arm hung at his side, and his face, still with slumber.
Lily lifted a hand, then thought better of it and rubbed it up and down on her sweater sleeve to warm it first. Then both of them. 
“Jo,” she breathed. She reached out and brushed a dark lock of wavy hair behind his ear, then put her hand on his shoulder. He barely roused. Instinctively, she felt his forehead. Warm, about the same as earlier. “Jonah, lovebird.” 
A soft exhale came from his lips. His eyelashes gave a twitch, then his brow wrinkled. He gave a soft, sleepy groan, eyes still shut as he slowly lifted his head from the piano. He dragged his arm from the lid’s surface and brought his hand up to massage the bridge of his nose.
“…. *sdrfk*…. *sdrfl, snnnrff!*” He tried for a few sniffles, the sound thick and hesitant. “Tibe is it?” he croaked, looking slightly away, reaching for the first piece of cloth that came into his line of sight. It happened to be a handkerchief. He touched it gently under his sore, chapped nostrils and lowered it, sniffling thickly.
“Uh, it’s nearly eight-thirty,” Lily said softly.
“Ha-“ he began to speak but was interrupted by an itchy cough, which escalated into a phlegmy fit of coughing. Lily ran a hand soothingly over his back as it tapered off. “Gooddess,” he huffed into his elbow, and sucked in a very liquid sniffle. “*hsddrff!* -unhh…. H-Have you eated?” he whispered.
“No. Blow your nose, sweetheart,” she said, and rubbed his back.
He gave a small sigh and lifted the hanky. Then- “hrr’AASCHHhioo-!!” -his frame shook with a choked sneeze. It was abrupt, as if the urge had come on suddenly, catching him off guard. “Shit,” he panted. 
“Bless you,” Lily murmured, brushing his hair back again.
His frame expanded with a proper breath, and he pitched forward into the fabric with a big, wet-sounding sneeze, desperate and vocal. “HAAAESSCHHIEWWw!! -Agh. *sdrf!* Thagk you. *snrff!*”
“Bless you,” she repeated, and kissed the side of his head.
He sniffled and held the cloth over his nose. His expression crumbled with desperation as the sore itch intensified, causing his eyes to water and his breath to scissor in his throat.
“Oh…” he muttered. “God, I-hiHh?” his brow pinched and he gasped involuntarily. “HAATCHIEWW!!-‘CHH-!! *hsnrk!* Oh doe.”
Lily kept running her hand over his back. “I’ll make some tea, okay?”
Jonah nodded, still hitching. “h-hheih! hih!HRR’AAASSCHHIEWWw!!! 
“Bless you.”
“Unh- HAATSCHHhhieww!!” 
Lily paused, turning back to look at him. “Blow, honey,” she said gently.
“I’b tryi’g,” he croaked.
Lily felt a wave of sympathy and gently combed her fingers through his hair, her nails grazing his scalp. Jonah blew his nose hard and emerged sniffling.
“Wanna lie down on the couch?” she suggested.
Jonah nodded. 
They were running low on eggs. Lily reached for the last two and put them next to the instant ramen packets on the counter. She heard Jonah coughing in the living room. As bubbles began to form in the water-filled pot, the kettle clicked. She opened the cabinet to find the mug shelf half empty. She reached for the largest one she could find, and set it on the counter.
“We’re mbissi’g Cook Dowd.”
Lily turned to see Jonah standing there, leaning a hand on the kitchen table. His dark hair was wild and unkempt, and his eyes looked, as always, like he was somewhere else, or trying mentally to shift back to this moment in time. The stained dining room flooring. The kitchen, where the fan was humming. He came over, a bit wobbly on his feet, and kissed the top of her head. The sound of his next sniffle was thick, whistling.
“I know,” she slowly turned back to the stove, as Jonah opened the cupboard to find the tea. “I lost track of time.”
“I like those guys. *sdrff!*” he mumbled, and turned away to cough.
Lily grinned a little as she lowered the dry noodles into the boiling water. “You do?” 
Jonah snuffled again sleepily, and reached an arm behind her to open the cutlery drawer. “They rud thi’gs like it’s heart surgery,” he murmured. Then, through a yawn, “But it’s edtertaidi’g.”
Lily glanced over with a gentle smile. 
-
II. Wasserman’s Symphony 
Lily found Jonah at the dining table, staring out the window through the lace curtains. It was snowing again, coming down in popcorn-sized clouds of fluff that had collected up to a foot on the deck.
“Hey, love,” she breathed, brushing a hand over his shoulder as she passed him to get to the kitchen. He was so zoned out that he hadn’t noticed her approaching. Lily paused. She turned back to look at him. “Love?”
“Hmb,” Jonah exhaled sleepily, blinking from the haze. He tried to sniffle, but the best his nose could give was a thick, congested snort.
Lily’s eyes ran over his features. His face was flushed. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. His body radiated heat. Lily blinked, jarred with concern. “Hey,” she said softly, as he snuffled and pressed his sleeve-covered wrist to a very uncomfortable-looking nose.
Unsure if he was going to sneeze, she hesitated. After a quiet beat, she raised the back of her hand to feel his forehead. Cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over, Jonah gazed at Lily as her fingers momentarily cooled the warm surface of his skin.
“Hi,” he exhaled lovingly.
“Sweetie,” Lily sighed. She lowered her hand. “Not feeling well, huh?”
Jonah’s eyes drifted a little. He leaned his chin on his hand and sucked in another useless, whistling sniffle. “Ndo,” he said simply. No explanation, no watering down, no dramatics either. Just ‘no’, concise and trusting.
Lily came nearer and draped her arms around his shoulders. Jonah’s hand had already found one of her wrists, his fingers wrapping longingly around it before stopping.
“Wait,” Jonah rasped, then coughed gently to clear his throat. He let go of her wrist. “Wait.”
“What?” Lily loosened her touch, moving back to watch his expression. 
“Your sigdi’g toborrow,” Jonah said softly. “Dod’t cobe dear be, you’ll…”
“Jonah, please,” Lily sighed.
“You dod’t wadt to catch a cohh… *h-hsnrffh!* A c- c- hh-!“ Jonah tried to talk steadily, but his voice shook, his nose looking very irritated. The burning sensation was enough to make him wince, a familiar expression that was almost always followed by a sneeze. He ducked his head and buried his face into his arms, into the thick fabric of his hoodie. “aaAAD’ISSCHIEWW!!-chieww!! hUD’CHIUEWW!! hHt-?? heiHh’YAASSCHHIEWWw!!!”
Lily hadn’t moved. Her hands drifted up to his shoulders, giving them a gentle rub with her thumbs as they shuddered through a sudden wave of sneezes. They were rough and intense, leaving him panting and blinking teary eyes.
“Bless you,” Lily leaned down and kissed his warm temple.
“*hsnrgk! snnrk~*” Jonah’s back straightened. One hand lifted to loosely cover his dripping nose while the other hastily pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He sucked in a very liquid sniffle, hurrying to fold the handkerchief. His eyelids were already fluttering, and he’d barely lifted the hanky before his nose erupted with a thick, snotty sneeze, propelling the contents of his nares into the fabric. “HAAD’CHIUHHh!! g’hh-“ He quickly steepled the hanky over his nose and blew.
“Bless you.” Jonah felt Lily’s hand gently rubbing his back.
Jonah shook his head, sniffling as he lowered the cloth. “I’b bou’d to give you’hhH-! hrAAD’CHHIEWW!! *sndrf!* bou’d to…” He had to pause to catch his breath. “Agh, *hsnrf!* y’kdow,” he huffed weakly, gesturing vaguely with one hand.
“You’re bound to get a sore back if you stay slouching here. Come, lie down on the couch.”
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thekinkyleopard · 11 hours ago
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AHHHHH Elex being oblivious because he was full of birthday excitement was actually so on brand 😂 I also love the part where he almost decked someone when the surprise hit LOL and the fluuuuffff at the enddddd 😭😭😭😭 I love these two 🥺💚
Oxygen
Written & illustrated by: allergeez 🖤
Hey! Remember back in August how I teased a Svelex fic set for Elex’s birthday? NWELL, I FINALLY FINISHED IT 6 MONTHS LATER ✨
Just under 8k words, CW: Illness & Injury (fever, pneumonia, difficulty breathing, passing out) Medical Settings (hospital/ER scenes, oxygen use, discussions of health conditions), Mild Alcohol Use (social drinking, light references), Themes of Self-Neglect (pushing past physical limits, refusing to ask for help)
Though Oxygen explores themes of stubbornness, friendship, and vulnerability, at its heart, it’s a story about learning when to let go—and knowing when someone cares enough to catch you.
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Summary: S7en has never been great at self-preservation, but for Elex’s birthday, he’s determined to pull off the perfect surprise. Weeks of planning, secret coordination, and late-night prep have all led to this—one flawless night where everything goes exactly as planned.— There’s just one problem. S7en is sick. Really sick. And he’s been hiding it.
With the weight of the day pressing down on him, the only thing keeping him going is sheer stubbornness and the desperate hope that he can hold out just a little longer. But as the night unfolds, his body has other plans, and no amount of willpower can fight the inevitable.
As reality comes crashing down, S7en is forced to confront a truth he’s spent his entire life ignoring—he’s not invincible. And sometimes, pretending to be okay only makes things worse.
Prologue:
S7en had never worked so hard on something in his life.
For weeks, he had been obsessively planning Elex’s birthday party—late nights spent hunched over sketches, paint drying on his fingers as he designed the perfect decorations, hours scouring online shops for the exact shade of green streamers that wouldn’t make Elex groan about “clashing aesthetics.” He’d snuck around behind his back to pull together the guest list, bribe people into secrecy, and track down the most obnoxiously over-the-top cake he could find. It had to be perfect.
Elex deserved perfect.
And, as always, Elex had no clue.
Which, honestly, wasn’t surprising. The man could smell a lie from a mile away, sniff out bullshit like a bloodhound, but when it came to anything about himself, he was painfully oblivious. S7en could have probably told him, straight-up, “Hey, I’m planning a surprise party for you,” and Elex still would have just grunted, shrugged, and gone back to chewing on whatever plastic thing he’d picked up that day.
The same way he had completely failed to notice that S7en was getting sicker by the hour.
It had started as a scratch in his throat, nothing major—just the kind of raw, dry feeling he chalked up to too many sleepless nights and the absolute joke that was his hydration levels. He ignored it, popped a cough drop, kept going. He had too much to do to slow down now.
But then it got worse.
The scratch deepened into a constant ache, turning into that burning, sandpaper sensation that made every swallow a chore. His voice had started rasping sometime around day three, but he played it off, clearing his throat and mumbling that it was just from talking too much.
Then came the congestion.
Thick. Unshakable. A slow-building pressure behind his nose and eyes that made his head feel too heavy, too tight. He kept sniffling between sentences, breath hitching every time he tried to take a full inhale, but he was damn good at keeping it subtle.
Elex never noticed.
When he felt a sneeze creeping up, he’d duck into another room, press the back of his wrist hard against his nose, and wait it out. If he got caught off guard, he’d twist away, stifling into his sleeve so violently it left him dizzy. It left his chest tight, his head pounding, but it was better than Elex hearing and asking questions.
There was too much to do.
If he let himself sneeze once, it would turn into five. Maybe ten. And if that happened, he’d never get through his never-ending to-do list.
So he fought it. Again and again.
S7en had become a professional at dodging suspicion. He had to be—Elex might have been oblivious about some things, but he wasn’t stupid. If S7en so much as sniffled too obviously, the badger would latch onto it like a feral dog with a bone.
So S7en adapted. He learned how to mask it, how to time it, how to slip away just before his body betrayed him.
But sometimes… it got close.
The first time was late—way too late.
S7en had been running on a handful of energy drinks and sheer force of will, hunched over his desk, hand-painting decorations that no one but him would care about. The apartment was silent, save for the soft glow of his desk lamp and the occasional sound of Elex shifting in his sleep.
Which was a problem.
Because that meant every single noise S7en made was way too obvious.
He had been trying—really trying—to keep himself together, but his nose was done playing nice. The burning deep in his sinuses was unbearable, and no matter how much he bit his lip or rubbed furiously at the underside of his nose, it wasn’t stopping.
The tickle teased mercilessly, rising, falling, rising again.
Don’t. Don’t. Not now.
His breath hitched.
He jerked forward, smothering the sound into his hoodie sleeve as hard as he could.
“Hhh’NGXT!—h'KXT’chh!"
He held still, heart hammering in his chest.
The silence stretched.
Then—
A sleepy mumble from the bed.
“...Why you sneezing like a bitch over there…?”
S7en froze.
Shit.
He hadn’t even realized Elex had woken up. The badger’s voice was thick with sleep, slurred and lazy, but there was just enough suspicion in it to make S7en’s stomach drop.
Think. Think.
“Fucking… dust?..,” he muttered quickly, sniffling once for effect. “The paper’s covered in it.”
A long pause.
Then—
A heavy sigh, followed by the sound of Elex flopping onto his other side.
“Go to bed, dumbass,” he mumbled.
S7en stayed still until he was sure Elex had drifted off again.
Then, finally, he slumped forward, burying his face in his arms.
Too close.
The second time was worse.
They were sitting on the couch, half-watching some dumb action movie, Elex’s feet propped up on the coffee table as he mindlessly chewed on the plastic cap of a water bottle. He was in a good mood, talking non-stop about how he "just had a feeling something cool was gonna happen" on his birthday.
Which would have been hilarious if S7en wasn’t actively trying not to sneeze on him.
His nose had been itching relentlessly for the last five minutes. That awful, creeping burn was rising up again, and no matter how much he rubbed at his nose discreetly, it wasn’t enough.
Bad timing. Really bad timing.
His breath hitched—barely enough to make a sound.
Too close.
He needed to get out of there.
Stretching his arms in an exaggerated yawn, he forced his muscles to stay loose and casual as he pushed himself off the couch.
“Gonna grab a drink,” he muttered, already heading toward the kitchen.
“Get me one,” Elex called after him, not even looking away from the screen.
S7en didn’t answer.
Because the second he was out of sight, he barely made it to the sink in time before a violent—
"Hh—! HHAHH—! HAHDT’tchhiew!! Hh—! AHHDT’tchhiiuhh!"
—ripped through him, bending him forward with the force of it.
His hands gripped the edge of the counter, breath shuddering as another chest-deep cough tore out of him immediately after. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to get it together before—
“You good in there?”
S7en nearly jumped out of his own damn skin.
Elex’s voice was casual, distracted, but S7en knew him too well.
The badger had noticed something.
Shit.
He barely had time to smother another cough into his sleeve before he forced his voice to sound normal.
“Yeah. Just—fucking—dropped something.”
A pause.
Then, mercifully, Elex just grunted, attention snapping back to the movie.
S7en exhaled slowly, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples.
Too close. Again.
By the end of the week, he knew.
This wasn’t just a cold.
The signs had been there for days, creeping up on him like a slow, inevitable landslide. At first, it had been subtle—a scratch in his throat, a little extra weight in his chest. But now? Now, every breath ached, every inhale felt like dragging air through soaked fabric.
His lungs weren’t just tight anymore. They were drowning.
And when he coughed—because, at this point, there was no fighting it anymore—it wasn’t some weak, dry little thing he could brush off. No, it was deep, raw, rattling, the kind of cough that came from somewhere low and dangerous, scraping the bottom of his lungs like a dull blade.
It hurt.
And Elex still didn’t notice.
Because S7en made sure of it.
He had perfected the art of hiding it.
Whenever Elex was around, S7en played it off like nothing was wrong. He timed his coughing fits so they happened when Elex was in the shower, when he was digging through the fridge, when he was too distracted ranting about something to notice the way S7en had to brace himself against the counter just to stay upright.
If a sneeze hit, he bit back against it with everything he had, muffling it into his hoodie sleeve until his head pounded. If he couldn’t stop it, he’d make sure to stifle it into near silence, no matter how much the pressure made his already aching sinuses throb.
His voice was going hoarse, his breathing was labored, but he pushed through, kept talking like nothing had changed.
When his hands started shaking, he simply curled his fingers tighter around whatever he was holding—a drink, his paintbrush, the edge of the counter—until they stopped trembling long enough to keep up the act.
His eyes were red-rimmed, glassy, but if Elex glanced at him for too long, he’d just mutter something about being exhausted and wave him off.
Everything needed to be done.
And he wasn’t about to let a little cold ruin it.
Even as it got harder to stand without swaying.
Even as his lungs tightened like a vice with every breath.
Even as his body screamed at him to just stop.
He pushed forward.
Forward. Forward. Forward.
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August 10th:
The morning of Elex’s birthday should have been easy.
After all, S7en had spent weeks planning every last detail. The decorations were set up, the cake was waiting in the fridge, and their friends were in on the plan, all waiting for the big reveal later that night.
All he had to do was get through the day.
And yet, when Elex jolted awake that morning—cocky, buzzing with birthday energy, already texting half his contact list like he was about to throw himself the most legendary party of all time—S7en could barely sit up without his vision blurring at the edges.
The second he lifted his head, a fresh pulse of pain slammed through his skull, a migraine so sharp it felt like his brain was trying to escape through his eye sockets. He swallowed against the nausea, trying to ignore the way his throat burned, raw and swollen, while his chest tightened with every inhale.
Bad. Really bad.
But he didn’t have time for bad.
So, S7en forced a grin, let Elex’s nonsense birthday rambling wash over him, and powered through.
“S7en, I swear to God, my birthday instincts are going crazy today,” Elex announced, cracking open an energy drink before he was even fully sitting up.
S7en barely managed to hold back a pained wince at the sound of the can popping. Too loud.
“Oh yeah?” he croaked, then immediately regretted speaking. His voice was wrecked, rougher than usual, like he’d spent the entire night screaming into a pillow.
Not ideal.
But if Elex noticed, he didn’t say anything—too busy stretching with an exaggerated groan before flopping onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. His mismatched eyes gleamed, that lazy smirk pulling at his lips.
“Yeah. It’s like—I dunno, a sixth sense,” Elex went on, taking a sip of his drink. “Like, I just know when something big’s about to happen.”
S7en hummed, noncommittal. “Birthday instincts,” he repeated flatly.
“Exactly.”
“Hate to break it to you, but you might need a refund, dude.”
Elex snorted, waving him off. “Nah, nah, it’s real. Watch—by the end of the day, something sick is gonna go down, and I’m gonna be totally right.”
S7en bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, because if Elex had even the slightest clue about the party, he would not be this calm. But the badger, for all his cocky bravado, was utterly, hilariously clueless.
Good. That meant S7en’s work wasn’t for nothing.
But as he pushed himself up, the room lurched sideways, and his stomach twisted violently.
Shit.
He froze, pressing his hands into the mattress to steady himself, willing the dizziness to pass. But his lungs ached when he took a breath, and his ribs felt like they were wrapped in tight, unrelenting bands.
Breathe. Breathe through it.
Elex, of course, was too busy hyping himself up to notice.
“Bet something sick happens before noon,” he said, checking his phone. “Maybe I’ll win some crazy giveaway. Or, like, get free food somewhere.”
S7en forced out a breathy laugh, ignoring the sharp, rattling sensation in his chest.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Something like that.”
Because at the rate he was going?
Something was gonna happen before noon.
Just not the kind of surprise Elex was expecting.
S7en just had to get through the morning.
Then the afternoon.
Then the party.
Simple.
Except nothing about this was simple when his entire body was actively trying to betray him.
He had barely been upright for two minutes before the pressure in his sinuses flared up again, an unbearable, burning tickle crawling its way deeper. His breath caught just once—a sharp, involuntary inhale—before he forced it down, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to sting.
Not now. Not in front of Elex.
Elex, still riding his birthday ego trip, had zero idea what was going on, stretching like he had all the time in the world. Completely unaware of the absolute war S7en was fighting just two feet away.
"Alright," Elex announced, cracking his neck. "I’m thinking pancakes."
S7en barely heard him. His focus was on not sneezing.
The burning sensation spiked, his nose twitching, his breath threatening to hitch again. He clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly through his mouth, willing the tickle to settle.
No luck.
It was coming, fast.
Shit. Move.
Before Elex could glance his way, S7en swung his legs over the bed and pushed himself up, heading straight for the bathroom. Too fast. His vision swam, dizziness crashing into him all at once, but he barely managed to keep himself upright, gripping the doorframe for balance.
He shoved the door shut behind him, barely able to hold back the gasping inhale before—
"Hh—! Hhh! HAHPT’tschiew!! HAH! AHHDT’shiiiiew!!"
Fuck.
He doubled over against the counter, pressing the heel of his hand against his nose, his breath still stuttering from the sheer force of it. The moment he tried to straighten, another thick, chest-deep cough forced its way up, scraping like sandpaper in his throat.
His lungs felt wrecked. His head was pounding.
And he had approximately five seconds before Elex came looking for him.
Swallowing hard, S7en quickly turned on the sink, splashing cold water onto his face, trying to erase the obvious flush creeping into his cheeks. A second later, he heard Elex’s footsteps outside the door.
“You dying in there?”
S7en cleared his throat, ignoring the sharp pain it sent through his ribs. Make it sound normal.
“Chill,” he called back, voice rough but controlled. “Didn’t know I had to schedule my pisses around your breakfast plans.”
Elex snorted. “I mean, you do. But I’ll allow it, since it’s my birthday.”
S7en exhaled slowly, gripping the edge of the sink.
Too close. Again.
By the time S7en forced himself back into the kitchen, Elex had already trashed his pancake idea in favor of raiding the fridge for anything edible. He stood with the door wide open, shoving a piece of cold pizza into his mouth like he wasn’t the absolute most unhinged person alive.
S7en could barely look at food without feeling his stomach twist unpleasantly.
"You good?" Elex asked around a mouthful, finally giving him a passing glance.
S7en shrugged, keeping his movements casual, despite the way his body screamed at him to sit the hell down.
"Tired," he muttered, heading for the cabinet where they kept their mugs. If he had something in his hands, it’d be easier to look normal.
Elex didn’t press, which was both a relief and kind of funny, considering if their situations were reversed, S7en would have had him in a chokehold demanding answers. But Elex just yawned, stretching again.
"Yeah, yeah," he said. "Big day. You should nap or something."
The irony almost made S7en laugh.
Yeah. Sure. Great idea. He’d get right on that.
As soon as he survived the next fourteen hours.
But as he reached for a mug, the telltale prickling started up again. His breath hitched before he could stop it.
Shit. No. Not here. Not now.
Keeping his back firmly to Elex, he pressed his wrist hard against his nose, willing it to stop. His shoulders tensed as the itch flared up, teasing mercilessly.
Hold it. Hold it. Hold it.
Elex, blissfully unaware, just kept rambling, his voice distant, drowned out by the relentless burning in S7en’s sinuses.
It was winning.
S7en had no choice.
With as much control as he could manage, he ducked his head into the crook of his arm, forcing the sneezes silent.
"Hh'NGXt! Ktchhh!—h’NNgch!"
The pressure was brutal, his skull throbbing with the effort of holding them back. His lungs seized painfully, a cough clawing its way up, but he swallowed it down, knuckles tightening around the counter.
He waited.
Nothing.
Elex hadn't noticed.
Slowly, carefully, S7en straightened, schooling his expression before turning back around.
Elex was still halfway through his pizza, scrolling through his phone with zero clue about the absolute disaster happening right in front of him.
S7en let out a shaky breath, grabbing his mug with slightly unsteady fingers.
He just had to get through the day.
That was the mantra he kept repeating in his head, over and over, like a scratched CD skipping on the same damn track. Just a few more hours. Then the party. Then the moment when Elex would finally see the absolute masterpiece S7en had spent weeks putting together. Then—maybe—he could breathe.
If his lungs still worked by then.
It was getting harder to ignore. Everything.
The aches had settled deep into his bones, like he was dragging concrete around his limbs. His head pounded relentlessly, his chest felt like it was wrapped in steel wire, and his breath was turning shallow, forced, unnatural.
And Elex?
Still didn’t notice.
Somehow.
It was actually impressive, in a way that was borderline offensive.
Because anyone with a working pair of eyes could tell that S7en was not okay.
His skin was pale, fever-glazed, dark shadows lingering beneath his eyes. His voice had gone from a little hoarse in the morning to full-blown wreckage, scraping and raw like he’d been swallowing glass shards for fun.
And yet.
Nothing.
Elex was still living in his own little birthday world, sending obnoxious texts to his friends, hyping up his own damn existence, and loudly debating whether he should get a new tattoo or a pet snake to mark the occasion.
S7en was dying in real time, and Elex was googling exotic pet names.
Ridiculous.
By the time they left the apartment, the sun was too bright, the air too sharp, and S7en was too damn tired.
He had planned to stay inside, get through some last-minute details, maybe even steal a moment to sit down and pretend his body wasn’t actively staging a rebellion.
But Elex, in all his unmatched, chaotic glory, had insisted on going out.
“It’s my birthday,” he had said, flashing a grin that should be illegal. “You’re legally required to follow me around and do dumb shit all day.”
S7en had just barely held back a groan.
The first stop was some hole-in-the-wall shop Elex swore had the best snacks on the planet. S7en, running on sheer force of will and the lingering effects of a third energy drink, followed him in, head pounding, lungs on fire.
He was so focused on staying upright that he didn’t notice the way his sinuses had been slowly tightening, congestion pressing like a vice behind his eyes.
Then, as he shifted his weight, something shifted with it.
A sudden, sharp readjustment deep in his sinuses sent a blinding tickle straight through his nose, pressure tipping over into something unstoppable.
Oh, fuck.
His breath hitched dangerously, his nostrils twitching, the overwhelming sensation building too fast for him to fight.
Not here. Not now.
He turned sharply on his heel, heading toward the corner of the store, hand clamped over his nose.
The moment he was out of sight, he braced against the shelf, burying his face into his sleeve as his body gave up.
“Hh—HhAH’DTschhh! Hh! HHhih—! HAHDT’tchhhiiew! Hhh! AHHDT’tsschueh!!!”
His ribs screamed in protest, his vision swimming from the sheer force of it. His breath hitched again, another wracking cough tearing out of him immediately after, leaving him shaking, dizzy, breathless.
Too much. Way too much.
He forced himself upright, swallowing against the rawness in his throat, fingers digging into the shelf for balance. He needed to move before—
“Sven?”
Shit.
He barely had time to school his face into something remotely normal before Elex appeared around the corner, holding a pack of sour candy and a soda, looking infuriatingly relaxed.
“You find something?” Elex asked, popping open the drink like nothing was wrong.
S7en cleared his throat, biting back the unbearable urge to cough again. “Nah. Just looking.”
Elex blinked at him, then tilted his head slightly.
For half a second, S7en thought—hoped, really—that maybe Elex was finally putting two and two together. That he’d look at him and actually see what was happening.
But then the badger just shrugged.
“Cool. Let’s hit the gas station. I wanna see if they have those weird energy drinks from Japan.”
And just like that, the moment was gone.
S7en swallowed back another cough, another wave of exhaustion, and nodded.
“Yeah,” he muttered, voice scraping at the sides. “Sure.”
And without much more, he followed Elex back out into the sun, lungs screaming, heart pounding, the warmth of the afternoon too sharp, too heavy against his feverish skin.
The heat pressed down on him like a weight, making the air feel thicker, harder to breathe, and for a moment, as they stepped onto the sidewalk, the world tilted dangerously beneath his feet. He forced himself forward, keeping his stride even, controlled, ignoring the way his vision blurred at the edges.
The party was just a few hours away.
He just had to last a little longer.
But his body? His body was done.
The fever that had been simmering beneath his skin all morning had finally boiled over, turning into a suffocating, all-encompassing heat that made the world feel distant and unreal. He felt like he was walking through a fog, slow and sluggish, barely tethered to his own movements.
His hoodie, usually something soft, comforting, familiar, now felt like a weight pressing down on his overheated body. The fabric clung to his skin like insulation, trapping the fever in, suffocating him from the inside out.
It was getting harder to think.
Harder to breathe.
Every inhale was tight, shallow, unsatisfying, as if the air itself had thickened, turning into something too dense to pull into his lungs. He knew he should have eaten something, but the mere thought of food made his stomach twist violently, nausea crawling up his throat.
But none of it mattered.
None of it could matter.
Because Elex was still completely oblivious.
So when the badger shoved his phone into his pocket and announced they were going to the arcade, S7en nodded.
When Elex cracked another joke about his “birthday instincts,” S7en forced out a laugh, even though his ribs ached from the effort.
And when a sneeze built out of nowhere, sharp and relentless, he bit down on the inside of his cheek hard enough to sting, forcing it back, forcing his breath to even out before it could betray him.
It was fine.
He could do this.
And then—
Elex threw an arm around his shoulders, dragging him closer, leaning some of his weight into him in that effortless, careless way he always did.
S7en felt his legs nearly give out beneath him.
It was only for a second. A brief, involuntary dip in his balance that he corrected just in time, locking his muscles in place before he could actually collapse.
Elex didn’t notice.
Because of course he didn’t.
He just kept talking, laughing, existing, completely unaware that the world around S7en had started to tilt dangerously again.
That the sounds of the arcade were beginning to blur into a low, distant hum.
That every inhale was tighter, shallower, harder to take in.
That S7en, for the first time all day, wasn’t sure if he could keep this up.
A single thought forced its way through the haze.
You’re not gonna make it to the party.
The arcade was a neon-lit blur, the pounding music and overlapping voices slamming into his skull like a hammer to glass. His fever had reached new, unbearable heights, making the room feel hot and cold all at once, the flashing lights too bright, the noise too much.
And still—he kept moving.
Elex was having the time of his life, completely in his element, button-mashing through some fighting game like it was a life-or-death battle. S7en barely processed what was happening, just stood there, hands shoved into his hoodie pocket, rocking slightly on his heels to keep himself upright.
The floor tilted beneath him again, nausea coiling tight in his stomach.
Just a little longer.
Just a little—
“Dude, you’re terrible at this,” Elex announced, nudging him toward the machine. “Come on, you gotta play at least once. Birthday rules.”
S7en knew if he sat down, he wasn’t getting back up.
But Elex was staring at him now, actually looking at him, and S7en had to move, had to do something, had to make sure Elex didn’t catch on.
So he shrugged, smirked through the absolute exhaustion dragging at his limbs, and picked up the controller.
The match was a disaster.
His hands were too shaky, his reflexes too slow, but somehow—somehow—he made it through without drawing too much attention.
By the time they left the arcade, the sun had begun to set, and the cool air should have felt refreshing. Instead, it only made his fever chills worse.
S7en barely made it through the door before he was shrugging off his hoodie, the fabric sticking to his overheated skin. His t-shirt underneath was just as bad, suffocating, but Elex was already grabbing beers from the fridge, completely unaware of the absolute train wreck standing behind him.
Elex tossed one over without looking.
“Happy birthday to me,” he announced, cracking his open. “Now drink, coward.”
S7en caught the can out of reflex, but the thought of alcohol sent an immediate wave of nausea rolling through him. He hesitated, fingers tightening around the cold metal, trying to psych himself up.
If he refused, Elex would notice.
So he lifted it, took a sip—
And nearly gagged.
The second the liquid hit his throat, his stomach flipped violently, his body rejecting it on instinct. He swallowed it down, forcing his expression to stay neutral, relaxed, normal, but the warmth rising in his throat told a different story.
Fuck.
The carbonation burned going down, only agitating his raw, sore throat further. He barely contained a cough, throat clenching as he forced himself to lower the can casually, like nothing was wrong.
Mercifully, Elex had already turned away, completely distracted by his phone buzzing on the counter.
“Rex?” he muttered, before picking up.
S7en exhaled silently, relief cutting through the fever haze.
“Yo, what’s up?” Elex answered, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder as he grabbed his keys.
S7en barely processed the conversation, his focus slipping in and out as Elex and Rexar started talking about car problems, something about the transmission, something about a weird noise.
Then, finally—finally—Elex headed for the door.
“I’m gonna check my car while I talk him through this,” he said, already halfway outside. “Don’t drink all my beer while I’m gone.”
S7en barely managed a smirk, lifting the can in mock cheers as the door swung shut.
The second the lock clicked, his whole body gave up.
The first cough was immediate, tearing through his chest with enough force to make him double over against the counter. The sound crashed through the empty kitchen, harsh and unrestrained, his body finally allowed to react after an entire day of suppression.
Then another. And another.
It was unstoppable now, his body making up for all the times he’d held it back, a brutal mix of hacking, gasping coughs and desperate, shuddering sneezes.
"Hh—hhAHH’Tschh! Hhh—! HhhAHH—! HAHDT’tchhhiew!! Hhh! AHHDT’tschhhiu!!"
His body jerked forward with each one, raw, painful, messy—his breath barely catching before another slammed into him. His hand scrambled blindly for his phone, barely able to see through fever-glazed eyes as he pulled up his contact list.
The party. The guests. He needed to check the plans.
He hit the first name.
Freya.
Her face appeared on screen, and the second the call connected, she took one look at him and frowned.
"Geezus, S7en. You look like death.”
S7en sniffled hard, rubbing at his nose with his wrist, attempting to smirk, but it came out more like a grimace.
“Damn, angel, don’t hold back,” he rasped.
Freya narrowed her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Are you seriously still running this party?"
"Obviously."
"You can barely hold your damn phone up."
S7en rolled his eyes, regretted it immediately when the movement made his head swim. "I’m good."
Freya looked like she wanted to reach through the screen and shake him, but before she could argue, another rapid-fire sneezing fit tore through him, leaving him breathless and hunched forward over the counter.
"Hhh! HAH—hhAHDT'shhiiew!! hHh—! HhHPTT’tchhiEW!! hh—! HAHHDT’tchhIEEW!!”
Freya just stared.
Then—flatly: “Uh-huh. Sure. You sound great.”
S7en groaned, sniffling thickly as he waved her off.
"Look, just—are we still good for eight? I don’t have time for a lecture.”
She sighed, clearly not thrilled, but nodded. "Yeah. Everything’s set."
"Good. See you then."
And with that, he ended the call before she could press him further.
Next.
Kriia picked up on the second ring.
And just like Freya, she took one look at him and immediately frowned.
"Yo. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Evening to you, too," he muttered, sniffling into his sleeve.
"You look like you lost a fight. With, like. A bus."
S7en snorted, regretted it instantly as another cough tore through his chest, sending a sharp, tearing pain through his ribs.
Kriia’s expression shifted, concern settling in. "Dude. Are you sure you should be doing this?"
S7en waved her off before she could start, ignoring the way his vision blurred at the edges.
"It’s Elex’s birthday. I’m not ruining it.”
Kriia exhaled slowly, like she was debating whether to fight him on this. But in the end, she just muttered, "Your funeral, man," before confirming the plans.
S7en ended the call and dropped his phone onto the counter, fingers digging into the surface as another wave of dizziness hit.
The door clicked open again.
Shit.
His body snapped upright on instinct, throat still burning, lungs still raw, but Elex was already stepping inside, phone tucked away, beer still in hand.
"Apparently Rex’s transmission’s fucked," he muttered, completely unaware of what had just happened.
S7en forced a half-smirk, voice barely above a whisper.
"Tough break."
Elex flopped onto the couch.
"Whatever. Commute’s gonna be shit, though."
S7en swallowed hard, ignoring the fire in his chest.
"Yeah," he murmured.
Everything was too hot, too loud, too sharp at the edges. His body was dragging, fever weighing him down like cement blocks strapped to his limbs, but the worst part was his head. It was pounding relentlessly, a deep, throbbing ache that had settled right behind his eyes, making his vision swim every time he moved too fast.
And yet—he still almost forgot the damn restaurant reservations.
It wasn’t until Elex, now two beers deep, kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and stretched like he had no plans to move for the rest of the night that it finally hit him.
Shit.
"Alright, get up," S7en said, standing way too fast. The floor tilted. He gritted his teeth, planted his feet, forced himself to stay upright. "We got dinner reservations."
Elex blinked at him, caught mid-yawn. "Wait—what?"
S7en sighed, rolling his eyes like his head wasn’t spinning in slow, miserable circles. "You really thought I wasn’t taking you out for dinner? What kind of boyfriend would I be?"
That earned him a grin, lazy and smug. "Damn. I really am the best."
S7en snorted. "Uh-huh. Now get your shoes on."
And just like that, the plan was back on track.
As long as S7en didn’t pass out before they got there.
The drive was a blur.
S7en shouldn’t have been driving. He knew that.
His vision swam every time he shifted lanes, his hands felt unsteady on the wheel, and every time he blinked, his fever-hazed brain took just a little too long to process what was in front of him.
But if he let Elex drive, that meant questions. That meant attention. That meant a risk he couldn’t afford to take.
So he forced his fingers to grip the wheel tighter, focused on the road like his life depended on it.
Which, honestly, it probably did.
By the time they pulled into the restaurant parking lot, his knuckles were white from how hard he’d been holding on.
Just a little longer.
Except—when they got inside, it all went to hell.
S7en barely processed what the hostess was saying at first, his fever-glazed brain lagging behind reality.
“…I’m really sorry about the mix-up, but unfortunately, we don’t have a reservation under that name.”
S7en blinked. "…What?"
The hostess winced. "It looks like there was an error in our system, and we’re completely booked for the night."
Elex frowned, looking at S7en. "Didn’t you book this, like, a week ago?"
"Yeah," S7en rasped, throat raw, jaw tightening. He turned back to the hostess, forcing himself to stay calm. "So… what’s the wait time?"
She gave an awkward smile.
"About two hours."
S7en nearly laughed out of sheer exhaustion.
Elex sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "Welp. Guess we’re going home, then."
And for the first time all day, luck was on S7en’s side.
Because that was exactly what he needed to happen.
He gave the hostess a half-hearted nod before turning back toward the door, shoulders tense, every muscle aching.
Fine. Home it was.
S7en still should not have been driving.
His head was swimming, the world tilting at the edges, but he was too stubborn, too deep into the lie to stop now.
Elex, meanwhile, was perfectly content, reclining in the passenger seat like he hadn’t a single care in the world. "Honestly, I wasn’t that hungry anyway," he mused. "Good call, though. The universe clearly wants me to have homemade pizza instead."
S7en made a noise that might have been agreement, though it came out more like a weak exhale.
His grip on the wheel was tight, too tight, but he didn’t trust himself to loosen his fingers without them shaking.
Then—a problem.
The congestion that had been building behind his eyes all day shifted suddenly, sending a sharp, burning tickle straight through his sinuses.
His breath hitched violently, the urge to sneeze crashing into him like a tidal wave.
No. Not now. Not while driving.
He swallowed hard, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth, clenching his jaw so tightly it hurt. His fingers flexed against the wheel, breath quivering, trying desperately to force it back down.
It wasn’t working.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
His vision blurred, breath stuttering, but just as his body jerked forward involuntarily, he lunged for the volume knob on the radio, cranking it up just in time.
"Hh’NGXT! K’tshhh!—h’NNgch!"
The pressure made his ears ring, his head throb twice as hard, but Elex didn’t even flinch.
"Okay, why the hell is the music so loud now?"
S7en sniffled subtly, shifting in his seat. "Needed to wake myself up."
Elex huffed a laugh. "Damn. Didn’t know dinner cancellation trauma hit you that hard."
S7en forced a smirk, even as his sinuses screamed in protest. "Devastating."
And then, thankfully, mercifully, they pulled into the apartment lot.
The second the car was in park, S7en let go of the wheel like it had burned him. His fingers were stiff, locked from how tightly he’d been gripping it the whole drive.
Elex stretched, groaning dramatically. "Man, what a weird-ass birthday. Hopefully, the universe has one more surprise left for me."
Yeah.
You have no idea.
S7en forced himself to stand, lungs protesting, vision blurring dangerously for just a moment.
Almost there.
He just had to get inside.
Just a few more steps.
Just a little—
His breath hitched again, and he clenched his jaw, swallowing it down.
Not yet.
Not until he was alone.
S7en barely made it through the door before chaos erupted.
“SURPRISE!”
The apartment exploded with noise—cheering, shouting, laughter—all blending into one deafening wall of sound.
Elex’s reaction was instantaneous.
His fists shot up, body twisting instinctively, already halfway through swinging on whoever had dared to startle him.
For a split second, S7en had a horrifying vision of Freya or Kriia getting decked in the face, but just as Elex’s arm tensed, realization hit.
His narrowed eyes scanned the room, taking in the decorations, the crowd of friends, the drinks already in waiting hands.
Then—he turned to S7en.
That stupid, crooked grin stretched across his face, all sharp teeth and amusement, his previous fight mode already forgotten.
“You little shit,” he muttered, clapping a heavy hand on S7en’s shoulder, shaking him a little. “You actually got me.”
S7en barely held back a grimace at the sudden contact, his body thrumming with exhaustion, but he forced himself to grin through it.
“Told you your birthday instincts were trash,” he rasped, barely audible over the noise.
Elex laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah—okay, you win.”
The moment should have felt like victory.
And in a way, it did.
S7en had done it. The party had come together exactly how he planned, every detail falling into place just as he had imagined.
He had made it.
But as the music turned up, as drinks started passing between hands, as people settled into the celebration, S7en realized—
He still had to survive the rest of the night...
By the time everyone had arrived, the apartment was a perfect mix of chaos and celebration.
Music blasted.
Drinks flowed.
Elex was in his element, soaking up the attention, grinning like an idiot as his friends hyped him up.
S7en stayed near the edges, tucked into the background, letting the night move around him.
Everything felt far away, like he was watching the party from the other side of a glass wall. The fever had dragged him into a dreamlike haze, every noise muffled, every movement just slightly out of sync.
Still, he could see Elex—laughing, teasing, play-fighting with Rexar over some inside joke about "Toad Biscuit" merch.
The night blurred around him—colors bleeding together, laughter twisting into an indistinct hum, the weight of the room pressing down too heavy, too hot, too much.
S7en had spent the entire day pushing forward, ignoring the way his body was crumbling beneath him.
This was the last thing.
Just one more step.
One more task.
Someone called for cake.
The words barely registered, muffled beneath the fever’s grip, but his body moved on instinct.
S7en stepped toward the table, striking a match with trembling fingers.
The tiny flicker of fire blurred before his eyes, swaying unnaturally, and it took him a second too long to realize—it wasn’t the flame that was moving.
It was him.
The floor lurched beneath him like the ground had been ripped out from under his feet.
His chest tightened—seized—refused to expand.
A sharp, deafening ringing filled his ears.
His vision tilted violently, everything twisting into a warped, spinning mess of distorted colors and movement.
Far away—too far away—he could hear Elex’s voice, lighthearted, distracted, still caught up in the conversation, still completely unaware.
S7en tried to step forward—to finish what he started, to keep going, to keep standing—
But his knees buckled.
His breath stuttered dangerously, shallow and weak, his body losing the battle he had forced it to fight all day.
And then—
Elex’s voice sharpened, cut through the fog.
Something in his tone shifted—not joking anymore, not distracted anymore.
Alarm.
Realization.
“Wait—Sven!?”
Elex saw it happening.
But he was too far.
He was on the other side of the room, still surrounded by people, still grinning one second ago, still completely oblivious to just how wrong things were.
Then he turned.
And his stomach dropped.
He saw it—the way S7en swayed violently, the way his fingers slipped, the way his breath hitched in a way that had nothing to do with laughter.
His body was giving out.
Too fast.
Too soon.
Elex moved instantly, shoving through the crowd, but he was too late.
S7en’s body tilted forward, his orange eyes rolling back slightly.
The match slipped from his fingers, flame snuffing out before it even hit the ground.
His legs crumpled.
And before Elex could reach him—before anyone could react—
S7en hit the floor.
S7en drifted somewhere between consciousness and nothingness, floating in the thick, fevered haze of half-awareness. His body felt heavy, his limbs like lead, his chest wrapped in tight, suffocating bands that wouldn’t let him breathe fully.
He could hear voices.
Familiar, but distant—like sound carried through waterlogged fabric, muffled and uneven.
Then, one voice cut through the haze, clear and sharp.
“His blood oxygen was at eighty-one percent when they brought him in.”
That was bad. Even he knew that was bad.
A sigh��low, exasperated, but not surprised.
Elex.
“Geezus fuck,” he muttered, voice strained with something tired, frustrated, guilty.
The other voice—a woman’s—continued speaking, firm but calm, the kind of voice used to dealing with stubborn, repeat offenders.
“He has pretty severe pneumonia," she said, matter-of-fact. "You’re lucky he passed out when he did. If he’d stayed upright much longer, he probably would’ve just stopped breathing entirely.”
S7en didn’t have to see Elex’s face to know exactly what expression he was making.
Jaw clenched.
Hand rubbing over his face.
That rare moment when Elex wasn’t just annoyed, but genuinely upset.
And not at anyone else.
At himself.
S7en could practically hear the weight settle in his voice when he muttered, “…I should’ve noticed.”
The woman—whose voice was familiar in a way that took too much effort to place—sighed through her nose, not unkind, but firm.
"Yeah," she agreed bluntly. "You should have."
A pause.
Then—paper rustling, the sound of something being shifted from one hand to another.
“These are his prescriptions,” she continued. “Antibiotics, steroids, inhalers—we’re trying these this time. Make sure he actually takes them.”
That voice.
The realization hit sluggishly.
ER nurse.
He knew her.
She had been there every time he’d landed himself in this exact same situation.
Enough times to know him by name.
God, that was embarrassing.
Elex sighed again, and S7en could hear the distinct crinkle of the paper bag as he took it from her.
His voice was quieter this time. Tired. Guilty.
“I got it,” he murmured.
Another pause.
Then—her voice softened just slightly.
“Just… be more observant next time, yeah?”
No sharpness now, just gentle warning.
“Could be worse, next time.”
No argument. No defensive retort.
Just the quiet sound of Elex nodding.
S7en wanted to laugh.
If only he had the breath for it.
After a moment, a long, heavy sigh broke through the silence.
Then—the soft creak of a chair being dragged across the tile.
S7en felt more than heard Elex drop into the seat next to his hospital bed, elbows resting on his knees, the weight of exhaustion settling into his frame.
Then came the sound of both hands dragging down his face, a quiet but telling frustration behind it.
S7en almost would’ve gotten away with pretending to still be asleep.
Almost.
Except—his damn ear twitched.
Elex caught it immediately.
"I know you’re awake, dumbass," he muttered, voice low and uncharacteristically gentle.
S7en hesitated.
Then, slowly, he cracked his eyes open, squinting against the harsh fluorescent light overhead. The world swam for a moment before settling, and when his vision finally focused, the first thing he saw was Elex watching him.
Worried. Tired. Like he’d just come back from a war he hadn’t even realized he was fighting.
S7en’s ears flattened instinctively in embarrassment, a quiet flicker of shame settling in his chest.
The room was small, sterile, impersonal—the same goddamn hospital he had spent far too much time in over the years.
And the weight of his failure hit him all at once.
This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.
A shift in his nose made him suddenly aware of the cannula, delivering pure oxygen to his wasted lungs.
His fingers twitched, reaching up to pull it off, but Elex’s hand was there first—firm but gentle, gripping his forearm.
"Don’t," Elex said softly.
S7en stilled, swallowing hard, ears pinning further against his head.
A beat of silence.
Then, in the same quiet, unusually careful voice, Elex asked,
"Why didn’t you tell me?"
S7en hated how much that question hurt.
He couldn’t bring himself to look at Elex. Instead, he dropped his gaze to his lap, claws absently picking at the thin hospital blanket.
"I—" He stopped, voice raw, barely above a whisper. He swallowed, trying again.
"I didn’t want to be the reason your birthday sucked…"
Elex stiffened slightly.
S7en continued, ears still pressed flat, tail curling closer to himself.
"I worked so hard to make it perfect," he muttered, barely breathing the words. "And after everything, we’re still here. Another—" his voice wavered, thick with frustration, "another claustrophobic, shitty little hospital room."
Silence.
S7en braced himself for Elex to be pissed. For the usual snark, sarcasm, maybe even an exasperated rant.
But instead—
Elex sighed, slow and deep, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer than S7en had ever heard it.
"Dude. I don’t give a shit about some stupid party."
S7en blinked, glancing up at him hesitantly.
Elex ran a hand through his messy, dark green hair, shaking his head. "You really think I care about that more than you literally—collapsing in front of me?" His voice wavered slightly, jaw clenching before he forced it back down.
S7en didn't know what to say.
Elex exhaled sharply, leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees.
"I should’ve noticed." The words came out quiet, guilty. "I mean, fuck, you looked awful all day. I just—I was too caught up in my own bullshit to pay attention."
S7en shook his head weakly, ears twitching. "Not your fault."
"Not entirely," Elex agreed, mouth quirking slightly. Then, more serious, "But you’ve gotta stop doing this, man."
S7en swallowed, feeling suddenly very small.
"You don’t have to—I don’t know—carry everything yourself," Elex continued, voice softer now, tired but firm. "It’s okay to tap out sometimes. Party or not."
S7en hesitated.
Then—finally—he met Elex’s gaze.
And what he saw there wasn’t annoyance, or frustration, or the usual bullshit banter.
It was genuine concern.
That made something tighten in his chest in a way that had nothing to do with pneumonia.
The corner of Elex’s mouth twitched into something softer, and after a pause, he added,
"By the way, next time you try to fake being fine, maybe don’t fucking pass out in the middle of a party. Kinda ruins the illusion."
Despite himself, despite everything, S7en huffed a weak, breathless laugh.
"Noted."
Elex rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind it.
And for the first time all day, S7en finally let himself relax.
The end 🖤
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snzcaretaker · 2 months ago
Text
𝕬𝖒𝖇𝖗𝖔𝖘𝖊'𝖘 𝕬𝖜𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌
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As promised in Part 1, I'm introducing Edwin's Caretaker, Ambrose! Because I make shameless self-inserts, he is transmasc and a little gender non-conforming. He found Edwin crying and descending into fever, and looked after him. This experience awakened his interests in the kink, as shown by the following letter:
Dearest Edwin,
How can I convey what is happening to me on your account? What you initially called "the most undignified experience of [your] entire life" was, to me, a strange and illicit honeymoon. And perhaps it became that way for you as well, given how sweetly you parted from me, with so many words of gratitude.
Ever since I found you sniffling in that parlor, and locked the door against every prying eye to create our own little world, I have been wracked with a constant urgency. There has been, continuously, a burning inside my veins. Especially when I heard (forgive me for listening to the gossip passed so rudely from your servants to mine) that you are already ill again, so much as to be bedridden, and that you are generally this way all winter. How I pity you, sir! I pace and I pace and I think of you. I cannot sleep through the ravages of memory. I think about the way my heart battered the inside of my ribcage trying to crawl closer to yours. I think of the warm flush of your skin radiating into me. I think of your tears shimmering like pearls that I so gladly collected with my own sleeve, and how wasted they will be if you cry alone. I think, most scandalously of all, about how your delicate, miserable sneezes shook your body as you leaned into my touch, and how you will shake yourself to pieces without me.
I have never been charged with someone so tender and in need. It tore at my heart to think that you would never return the strange feelings blooming in my chest. But when, in your fever, you called me "angel" over and over, "my light, my angel..." even as you struggled to speak through many fits of the sinuses, my hope and my desire each grew overpowering. Something has awakened in me, and it is consuming me from the inside out.
Do you even remember what passed between us? You were so ill...if this is devilish lust running away with me, then censure me, burn my letter, and never speak of this again - I certainly never will. But if you feel the same, send for me at once and I will pack my bags, say my goodbyes to my own lodgings, and tend to you until April at least. Affairs are very settled here and can all be handled by post, so you need have no fear of any inconveniencing factors. If you are willing, I will soon be...
...yours,
Ambrose
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sfblah · 4 months ago
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SNZ OC Ranking Asks
Inspired by an ask I got a little while ago, and I wanted to make a proper ask meme based on it to share the love.
For any of the given categories below, list off your top OCs, however many you want.
📢 Loudest Sneezes
🔇 Quietest Sneezes
🌊 Messiest Sneezes
🤪 Weirdest Sneezes
⏱️ Longest Buildups
🎭 Most Dramatic Buildups
📋 Longest Sneezing Fits
💐 Most Allergies
🥀 Worst Allergies
❄️ Most Temperature Sensitive
🌡️ Most Illness-prone
☁️ Weirdest Sneeze Trigger
😱 Most Shy About Sneezing
🤩 Least Shy About Sneezing
☕ Best Caretaker
👉 Best at Stifling
👋 Worst at Stifling
😶 Best at Holdbacks
😦 Worst at Holdbacks
📰 Best at Covering
🗞️ Worst at Covering
📐 Longest Nose
↔️ Widest Nose
🏵️ Most Unique Nose
🐽 Biggest Nostrils
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horridly-plagued · 9 months ago
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Women anyways Mary art because I love her and she’s very pretty
For obvious reasons please don’t post to vanilla blogs or non Snz related blogs thank you
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bloodorangeslices · 2 months ago
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You know which snzario I find really really cute? When one half of a couple is helplessly sneezy from allergies or a cold and they and their SO are cuddling in bed while SO holds them and catches their sneezes. Because the sneezy one is too tired to keep bringing the tissues or handkerchief up.
Aaaaaa my heart
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accidentalmistress · 12 days ago
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Snzfic - Sparks of Something New
I'm planning to post a Zayne snzfic soon, but I realized that I never posted the first Zayne fic on Tumblr. So, here's the first snzfic I've written with my OC Zayne: a six and a half foot tall nerd with a PhD in immunology and the worst allergies on the planet.
Word count: 2852
Content and warnings: male allergy sneezing; mild swearing
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No one uses the cubicle next to me. Or the one in front of me, for that matter. I'd say no one uses the one behind me, either, but the only thing behind my cubicle is a wall painted in a hideous dark orange color that some far-removed executive probably thought would be "fun" or "invigorating." There's no one in the cubicle on my other side, the one that shares a wall with mine. The ones diagonally in front me are empty, too. In fact, no one else sits in my row, or in either of the adjacent rows. This entire section is empty, excepting little ol’ me, of course.
When I requested moving my desk after that whole incident with my supervisor Greg, HR claimed that this deserted patch of cubicles that sits down a short flight of steps in the half-sunken ground floor of the lab building was the only area with open seats. I know that's bullshit. The Boys' Club of Upper Management wanted to shove me somewhere out of the way—in a whole separate building, even. Joke's on them: I thrive in solitude. I love having this quiet corner all to myself, without the dull drudgery of small talk or people bothering me with inane questions. I put my earbuds in, get in the zone, and focus on my work without distractions.
Which is why it's super weird when I hear someone in the cubicle across from mine.
I've been so engrossed in what I'm doing that I didn't notice anyone coming back here. It's only because of a lull in the music playing through my earbuds that I notice anything at all. It sounds like… heavy breathing?
"Heh… heEHHhh! … Hh'xcht! … h'gnKT! Heh-hahCHT!  Ugghh…"
Someone is sneezing like crazy in the empty cube next to me. Or, rather, they're stifling an onslaught of sneezes. Do they not know I'm here? I unlock my phone and touch the pause button on Spotify. Oh, I am so glad I didn't start jamming out when “Careless Whisper” came on, because when I get really into it I do the saxophone parts and everything.
Still, I'm honestly a little surprised whoever it is hasn't noticed me yet, or at least the clicking of keyboard keys beneath my fingers. From the sound of it, though, they're probably focused on their own problems with, y'know, breathing. Besides, if they're expecting this area to be deserted, it may not even cross their mind that someone could be back here.
I slowly push my office chair backwards and lean so I can look into the cubicle across the aisle to my right. Sure enough, someone is sitting at the desk. Well, more like slumped over it. Looks like a guy. I watch his back spasm a few more times.
"Gh-CHT! CHT! hhCHT! heh-EHssht! Mmmhh…"
Capping off another string of stifles is a pathetic-sounding whimper that tells me this is not the beginning of his suffering. I have no idea whether he's been back here for a while now or if his problems started somewhere else and he only snuck back here moments ago. Man, why’d he have to come to this section for his little sneeze attack break or whatever? I know I have no claim over these rows of empty cubes, but even so it feels like he's intruding on my quiet sanctuary of productivity.
I could try to ignore him—turn up my music, pretend he isn't there, and refocus on my work. Maybe he'll remain blissfully ignorant of my existence and leave quietly whenever he's done, uh… getting whatever it is out of his system.
Yeah, right. Refocus? There's no way I'll be able to refocus as long as I know he's there. His mere presence will loom like an unseen specter and eat holes in my concentration. Which means my only real choices are to sit quietly and hope he leaves, or make my presence known and hope he leaves. One of those options will have far more immediate results, so I sigh lightly and remove my earbuds.
I get up and go peer at him from the relative safety of standing partly concealed behind the cubicle wall next to the doorway. Do cubicles have doorways? Whatever, the opening entrance thing. He's facedown on the desk, forehead resting on his arms and a box of tissues close at hand. I can't see his face, but I don't think I recognize him. Dark brown hair that’s on the longer side and messy in that tousled, “I just woke up like this” way that I can never achieve when I try to do it intentionally. Slim build. Wearing a white coat. Lab coat means lab guy. His whole upper body tenses up every time he sneezes.
“Heh-chxt! EhCH’nx! Huhh… God, it won't stop…”
"You all right there?"
I take a kind of perverse satisfaction in the way he jumps. His head snaps up, and he fixes me with a wide-eyed stare behind round-rimmed glasses. I'm struck by just how blue his eyes are. It's a deep blue, like a sky just beginning to darken. Now that I can see his face, I know I definitely don't recognize him, but something twitches in my gut all the same.
"Wh-wha-!? Oh n-no- heh-hehh- hhx'ch-TIEW! Heh-ts’CHIUHH! heGH’SHiuhh! HAH-GHSHIEEW!!"
He tries to keep stifling, but I guess I startled him too badly, because he quickly breaks down into a full-blown sneezing fit. It sounds pretty harsh, too, and I have to admit that I feel a little bad.
"Uh… sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."
"N-no, no, it's- heh-tchiuhh! I, um… I di-hihdn't know anyone was o-over heh-here."
I point across the aisle to my cubicle.
"My desk is right there, my dude."
His face is already flushed from sneezing, especially across his nose, which has a prominent aquiline shape and Roman bump at the bridge. I can just barely make out that he has freckles beneath that blush. He gets a few shades darker before my eyes.
"Wh- R-really? I- oh, hh'chnxt! Nguh… I-I'm so sorry, I ha- hah-shiew! h-had no idea anyone even s-sat over here. Oh, God, then you've been here this whole t-time?" He groans and puts his face in his hands. "Oh man… this day can't get any worse… heh-chtt! Nnhh…"
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I had headphones on, so I only just noticed you were here… So, uh… you sick or something?"
He shakes his head and his eyes screw shut as he grabs a handful of tissues, then he draws in a deep breath and buries his face in them.
"Hehh-GSSHHT!! … Allergies."
“Oh…”
I’m not the best conversationalist, but I feel like I should say something else, so my brain spins a roulette wheel of possible responses that apparently lands on: “To what?”
He looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes and sniffles miserably.
“Everything. Dust, mold, the pollen of every flower and tree you can think of, cats, dogs, fragrances. I swear a light breeze will set me off… -snfff- I th-think what’s really geh-getting me now is the- the- heh- the r- ragweed- heh! HEH-CHSHIEW! ESHyuu!”
He blows his nose into his wad of tissues with a wet honk and a slight moan. Part of me says I should just say a quick "welp, hope you feel better", go back to my desk, and really crank my music up. And yet…
There's something about this guy that glues my feet right where I’m standing. I don't know if it's instinct or empathy or the fact that, despite the streaming eyes and red, sniffling nose, he's actually kind of cute. In the same way a scraggly, wet kitten is, I guess.
"Wow, that… sucks. Bless you."
"Thanks… Um… I-I'm Zayne, by the way. Zayne Reynolds. -snndf-"
I nod, slowly. I'm pretty sure I remember there being a Dr Reynolds in the immunology department. Guess this is him.
"Lynette Sparks. So, like… do you take medication or anything?”
He nods and looks away to the side with a slightly uncomfortable look.
“Mhmm. B-but this morning, I um… Heh'ISSHiuh! -snf- I-I was running late, and I… I forgot.”
“Oh. Uh, well… Can I do anything for you? Or get you anything?"
He regards me with some surprise, eyebrows raised.
"You… want to he-help m- heh-hehh- HIH'chgdt! Nngh… -snfff- You want to help me?"
"Is that weird?" I say the words slowly, second-guessing myself. Maybe he'd rather be left alone.
"N-no, I didn't mean— It's just the guys I work with don't usually… Th-they don't, uh…" He sniffles, nose scrunching with obvious irritation. "Oh no… I-I'm gonna… hehh…"
His chest jumps with hitches of increasing urgency, and I can't help but notice the way his reddened nostrils twitch. His voice quavers and rises in pitch as his breath catches.
"G-gonna h-have a f-fit. Oh God- hehh! HhheEHH!"
He stifles a sneeze. Then another. And another. And another. The next he tries desperately to stifle as well, but the outburst breaks through his efforts to contain it, and from there it's all downhill. A dam has broken. His body is wracked by more and more powerful sneezes, and all he can do now is grip the bundle of tissues tight against his face to catch the expulsions and muffle the sound.
"HEH-TCHIUHH!! EHHSHHGHT! EHHSHHGHT! HEHH-EHH'SSHHIUHH! Ehsht!-Ehsht!-Ehsht! Ehh'SHHIUHH! Oh God- heh'CHSHIUHH!"
He goes on like that for what has to be at least a full minute, and I can think of nothing I can do but try not to stare. By the time he's done, his entire face is cherry red, and his breath comes in labored pants. He moans.
"Oh my God… I'm- I'm s-so sorry. I can't h-help it- Hah-gghhssiuh! Oh man… now I'm lightheaded… I-I’m really sorry…"
My face pinches into a scowl. "What? You- Why are you apologizing?" I sigh and smooth my features. "I was gonna ask if you're okay, but… you're obviously not."
Any irritation I harbored at having my workflow concentration broken feels insignificant and petty now. I may be antisocial, but I'd have to be pretty friggin heartless to just go back to my desk and leave this poor guy on his own.
"Give me a minute." I point a warning finger at him. "And don't go anywhere!"
He looks up at me with confused and bleary eyes. He doesn't even need to speak: his expression screams, "Why would I?"
I duck into my cubicle and grab my bag, hauling it up onto my desk. Rummaging through, I find a small zipper pouch, which I toss lightly into the air and catch with a smirk. Then it's off to the opposite side of the room where a water cooler sits plugged into the wall. I'd heard the phrase "water cooler talk," but I didn't think offices still had actual water coolers until I started working here. Not that there's anyone around for me to talk to, but the water cooler is genuine enough, and I fill one of the little paper cups.
I find the ailing Dr Reynolds much as I left him: hunched over the vacant desk with tissues attached to his face like a diver with a SCUBA mask. I plunk the water down next to him before unzipping the pouch and rifling through until I pull out a small, neon pink pill in a plastic blister pack.
"Here. Benadryl. Might make you sleepy, but I figure that's preferable to… this."
Zayne raises his head and stares at the pill in my outstretched hand for a few silent seconds. I clear my throat when it gets awkward.
"Uh, you don't have to take it if you don't want to."
That at least spurs him to respond. "N-no, I don't- I mean- heh-chhzhiuh! I-I'll take it if… you're sure?"
I raise an eyebrow. I don't know why he's making it sound like a question.
"I wouldn't be offering it to you if I wasn't."
"R-right… sorry. Thank you."
He extends a hand, and I drop the pill into his open palm. He sneezes twice while trying to get the blister pack open, and I'm about to offer to open it for him when he finally gets it himself. I watch the tiny pill vanish as he downs the water and sits back with a sigh. He looks exhausted.
"That should… eh… heh'chgt! Guh… Should hopefully kick in soon… -snfff- Um, thank you again… You said you're, um, Lynette?"
I nod. "Yeah. Sparks. Lynette Sparks. And please don't say something like, 'sparks flew' when we met. I've heard it a bajillion times before, and it's not a great pickup line."
"Huh? P-pickup line? Why would I… try to… um… heh-heh-hehh! HEHTCHIEW! Nnh. -sndf- Excuse me… Um, I-I wouldn't do that… T-try to hit on you, I mean. That's not, um, work appropriate."
Wow, this guy's a dork. I fight a giggle that threatens to bubble up, but it's not that I want to laugh at him. His timid stammering is actually oddly endearing. Maybe this is what people mean when they call someone "adorkable." I cross my arms as a smirk creeps across my face.
“Well, I appreciate your professionalism."
I'm not lying. I genuinely do appreciate that he's being considerate of me as a coworker. Yet, there's something else, too: a twinge of disappointment. Well, that's… new. I chew on my bottom lip for a second before I decide to take a chance.
"So… what if we got to know each other better first?"
I think that makes him short circuit, because he just stares at me for a good five seconds before he can speak again.
"I… What?"
"I'm just saying, if we got to know each other, that would maybe, y'know, open an avenue towards things happening outside of work. Where flirting might be more appropriate. I mean, if you actually wanted to. It's okay to say no; for all I know you're not even into women."
"N-no, I am! Uh, interested in women, that is. I just- I- oh, h-hang on- ah-hahh-HAESHIUU! Nguh, excuse me… I mean, um…"
His gaze rests on the desktop for a few more moments. I can't tell anymore how much of the flush in his face is from allergies and how much is from how flustered he is. I don’t know what it says about me as a person, but I can’t help but think it’s cute. He takes a breath. When he looks back up at me, though, there's something strange at the back of those deep blue eyes.
"Are you messing with me?"
My eyebrows twitch upwards for a moment. In retrospect, I can see how he might think that, what with my rather flippant tone. I’ve never been good at any form of socializing, let alone flirting, so I end up hiding behind sarcasm and humor. That way any screw ups I make can be passed off as a joke, no harm done. Of course, it doesn’t always pay off, like right now. In fact, I may have just blown my chances.
I clear my throat with a somewhat embarrassed cough.
“That was not my intention, no. I’m sorry if I offended you or made you uncomfortable. Maybe we should just, uh, forget I said anything?”
I take a step back with an awkward chuckle, not really intending to return to my own cubicle yet, just wanting to offer a little more space between us in case he is uncomfortable. He must think I'm leaving, though, because he stands up with such abrupt force that the chair he was sitting in rolls and hits the wall behind him. I can’t help but stare for a moment with slightly wide eyes. What I could not appreciate while he was seated (and, furthermore, hunched over), is that Zayne is tall. Really fucking tall. Like, he must be at least six foot six, which means he’s over a foot taller than I am.
Well, shit. He just got a heck of a lot hotter in my book. I'm not the least bit ashamed to admit: I have a thing for tall guys, and the taller the better.
He doesn’t seem to notice my reaction, though, or maybe he’s used to people gawking at his height.
“Wait, I didn’t mean- H-honestly I just… couldn't understand why you’d be interested in me. B-but I would, um, l-like to… ah… ahh-hahh-AESCHIUUH! S-sorry! I-I’d like to get to know you better… if that’s really alright with you.”
The corner of my mouth twitches into a smile that blossoms wider by the moment, and I nod.
“Yeah… Yeah, that's definitely alright with me.”
No one uses the cubicle next to me, and suddenly I'm finding myself even more grateful for that fact than usual. I don't know why Zayne chose this area of the building to hunker down and suffer through his allergy attack, but it seems those dickheads in HR did me a greater favor than I realized when they moved me here.
After all, this could be the start of something very interesting…
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his-tamine · 11 months ago
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INDUCING 💥💥💥‼️‼️🦅🦅💥🐺
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snzyflowrr · 4 months ago
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OC master post
these are the links to all my Molly and Emilia fics, so we can have our girls all in one place. let me know if I missed any <3
fics are all 18+
Molly’s morning sneezing fit wlw allergies
Molly’s library sneezing fit allergies
Emilia’s nose piercing sneeze wlw nose tickling
Molly’s road trip sneeze attack wlw allergies
Molly’s cold sneezes cold
Emilia’s tanning sneezes wlw photic allergies
Molly sneezing while cuddling wlw nose tickling
Molly’s drunk fit wlw allergies
Molly spills her perfume allergies
Emilia’s sneezing at work allergies
Molly spring cleaning wlw allergies
Molly picnic sneezing fit wlw allergies
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snifflie-ollie · 5 months ago
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THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG (SINCE MAY???) HOLY SHIT
In Hiding
Two secret agents suddenly have to hide together. Tight spaces and itchy noses might make it difficult, though.
this is my first fic that ive been working on forEVER (i kept. um. getting distracted while writing...) sorry if there's errors!!
tags: sneezing while hiding, stifling, oc has the kink, failed holdbacks, inducing, allergies, i need to write them having sex now
Listening for the others outside, Audrey shifted slightly--as much as she could--to get a bit more comfortable in the space. Her and Robin were pressed up against each other suddenly. It was dark inside, only slightly illuminated by the cracks between the door and the wall, so she couldn't see Robin's facial expression inside the... was it a closet? a locker? She hadn't looked long enough to check, only rushing in as soon as she heard more voices. Whatever it was, it was way smaller than anticipated, and uncomfortable--she made a mental note to schedule an appointment with her chiropractor.
Of course it just had to be Robin she was stuck with. Pent up feelings toward them made for a very awkward position, as her struggle to remain professional began to crumble.
Suddenly, Audrey noticed a shift in Robin's breath, which she could feel on the base of her neck. It was sharper now, and she felt their body begin to tense up.
"When was the last time someone cleaned in here?" They whispered, soft enough that only Audrey could hear. "Shit, I have to sneeze. Can I muffle it into your shoulder?"
Fuck.
Audrey simply nodded, and Robin shifted to the suit fabric that she was wearing, hovering over it as their hitches grew.
Audrey could feel her heart pounding over every trembling breath. She wasn't paying any attention to the people outside anymore; how could she?
"Ha--haaahh..." Each hitch was a shake in their chest, just audible enough to pull Audrey in as the tension rose. She'd seen their nostrils flare the previous times, straight nose crinkling at the top. God, she wished she could see it now.
"hhHHXXSH--" they jerked, stifling into Audrey's shoulder, causing her to shudder.
Quietly sniffing, Robin pulled back for just a moment, giving a sniffle. "Fuck, sorry, I don't want to get your suit all gross."
"It's fine; I don't mind," Audrey muttered, attempting to hide her fluster. She really didn't mind.
"Shit, aahnother one--hh... hahh..."
She could feel their warm breath hitching against her again, quicker this time.
"HXXSHMF--"
This time they miscalculated, aiming into Audrey's neck instead, whose stiff outward appearance shattered as she melted in the moment.
"Audrey--"
She snapped back, trying to regain any sense of levelheadedness. "Hm?"
"Your... hhhair," they whispered into her ear, voice trembling, and Audrey realized in the faint illumination that her hair was now completely brushed up against their nose, some of it inside, tickling their already sensitive nostrils.
"Shit, let me--" she cut herself off, attempting to squirm around and move her hair out of the way. However, the moving just irritated the itch, and she realized that only a bit too late.
"Don't move, you'll ju... ah--HAH--H'ASHHXX!"
Robin just barely muffled in time into a now dizzy Audrey.
"What was that?" A voice boomed from outside, and the duo froze in place.
Sniffling, Robin scrunched up their face in the dark, something Audrey could now see as her vision adjusted.
She shook her head at them. Any noise now would give their position away and get them captured.
They nodded their head back at her--one they Audrey loved and hated about them. If Robin was going to sneeze, Robin was going to sneeze.
"Hhaahhh..." They began to hitch again, tilting their head back slightly. "HAhh-! Hhh..."
Audrey could see their nose trembling in the dark, their hands instinctively trying to reach up to it, so, without thinking, she took matters into her own hands and shoved a finger under their nose.
It was wet from the previous sneezes, and Robin flinched in enough surprise to distract their nose for the moment being.
Eventually, they could hear the sound of chairs shifting and people walking out as one of the voices grumbled about the end of a meeting.
After a few minutes of painstaking silence, they opened the locker to find the room empty again, and both sighed in relief.
"Okay, we've got the files, lets get the fuck out of here," Audrey commanded, looking over at Robin, who had a rolled up tissue shoved up their red nose with a dazed look. "What are you doing?!"
"I d,diidn't--hah--get the laaahsst sneeze out," they hitchily replied.
Crossing her arms, Audrey continued to stare, pretending to be unammused.
They sniffled, taking out the tissue. "Fuck, I can't get it."
Audrey rolled her eyes. "Here, let me do it."
Robin complied, and Audrey rolled up another end of the tissue and placed it in their left nostil, rubbing up and down the insides. She could see their fluster, but assumed it was simply from never having induced before.
"That reh, really tiiickles--"
"That's the point."
Now that they were in the light, this time, Audrey could see Robin's desperate scarlet nostrils flaring and trembling, begging for relief. She stuck the tissue further, circling the back of their nose.
"Ah, Audrey, I'm gonnahh--hAh--sneeh, eeze," they warned through hitched breaths.
Audrey didn't move, simply pushing in further until she hit a particually sensitive spot. "Shh, don't try to talk, just focus."
"Hhah... hh--hAH...!" They leaned their head back with closed, watery eyes, reaching up a hand out of instinct, though, it was futile; Audrey was in the way. Robin lurched forward, letting out their first unstifled wet sneeze in hours, and, unintentionally, all over Audrey.
"HhhHHAI'CHEW!"
Sniffing, they wiped their nose. "Fuck, that felt really good. I need to try that. You're great at that."
Audrey shrugged, but couldn't help but give a smirk. "I'm good at everything," she replied cockily.
With that out of the way, the two of them left. Both would think about the incident later that night, individually relieving the tension they'd had beforehand.
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oh-no-my-hand-slipped · 2 months ago
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Introducing…The Sneeze Squad!
This group of sneezy supers was born out of necessity. In a world where superheroes are pretty easy to come by, these unfortunate souls were cast aside for their…unbecoming superpowers. They came together under their shared snotty theme, and thus — The Sneeze Squad was born!
The following members make up this group:
Captain Sneeze: The leader of the group, and arguably the most powerful. Her sneezes can overturn cars, knock down people, and cause a loud enough sound to break nearby glass. If she is especially snotty, her mucus can also be used to trap villains. Compared to her teammates, her powers are the most consistent, only fading when exposed to high-grade antihistamines or a strong clothespin.
Because of her large family, she’s very used to wrangling people towards a common goal, and her kindness can often win over even the most distrustful of civilians. With the rest of the squad, she is very supportive, forgiving, and clear in her intentions. However, she is slow to ask for help and to trust the group with specific tasks, leading to failed missions or her overworking herself.
Señor Sniff: In a lot of ways, Señor is the right hand man to the captain, due to his amiability and general cooperativeness. His abilities involve being able to teleport very short distances with a flick of his cape. The problem? He can only teleport if he sneezes (hence the rose he carries between his teeth), and each sneeze teleports him to a nearby location. This can be useful in some situations, but is usually just disorienting for him, and confusing for his teammates.
As his alias, Señor may appear very dramatic and confident. But to anyone who actually knows him, he is actually very self-conscious, often covering his face with his cape when he’s embarrassed (which is often). His eagerness to please others means that he follows directions well, and his quiet nature makes him observe things that the others may miss. However, he second-guesses himself both in battle and his personal life, and he usually struggles with making quick decisions. In the end, he just panics.
The Uncommon Cold: The Uncommon Cold, or TUC (“Tuck”) for short, is the most unpredictable of the four. They have the ability to spread their nasty case of the sniffles to anyone in a short radius, who will be infected in seconds. The unfortunate thing is that the average henchman’s immune system will fight the illness off almost immediately, making Tuck’s power close to useless in many situations. They also need quite a bit of rest between battles, making long missions difficult for them.
Tuck, as you can well imagine for a person who is sick all the time, is very grumpy, especially when their cold is at its worst. That leaves very little room for nonsense, which makes them the voice of reason. They don’t sugarcoat anything, and always present the truth with little bias. However, this also means they can be blunt, or just plain rude to the people around them. They often make snide comments, both to enemies and allies alike. However, they do have a soft spot for the chronically ill, or just the sick in general.
Dust Bunny: A villain turned super, Bunny has a strange past that she will not easily disclose. Her powers seem wonderful on paper: creating dust clouds that can hinder enemies, reveal lasers, or provide a perfect getaway. However, her criminal life was cut short when she developed an allergy to her dust, making it nearly impossible to use in her heists. Luckily, her combat skills more than make up for her sneeziness.
Bunny is extremely intelligent, and is knowledgeable in many subjects, including ciphers, mathematics, and a few common languages. She is cooperative (if she must be), though largely self-sufficient. Bunny keeps a lot of her thoughts close to her chest, still not quite trusting those around her. Vulnerability doesn’t come easily to her, and her and Captain Sneeze often butt heads due to her lack of forthcomingness.
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glitterrosesnzz · 4 months ago
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@hachiibun HAPPY (PROBABLY LATE) BIRTHDAY HERE TAKE THIS LIL PHANTOM THIEF DISASTER DUO THING-
“Shut up.” Renard hissed, reaching to the side and slamming a hand over Vân’s mouth.Vân made a muffled sound of surprise, as well as a vague gesture that non-verbally conveyed ‘but I didn’t even say anything?!’. Which, well, he hadn’t. But Renard could just sense that Vân had been about to make some kind of comment, which would’ve been incredibly unhelpful right now. 
The guard patrolling up and down the hallway that Renard and Vân had been about to go down mere seconds ago was absolutely not in Renard’s plans. In fact, it wasn’t even in the defense plans that Renard had stolen from the detective’s office a mere night ago- thinking about it, it was fairly easy to steal… had the detectives finally wisened up to how Renard always knew their plans in advance?
…No. It couldn’t be. This guard must simply not be authorized. Yes, that had to be it-
“...Renard-” 
“Shhhh!”  
“N-no, Renard, I-I’m gonna-” 
Renard pulled his hand back as though he’d been shocked, freezing for a split second like a deer in the headlights as Vân’s breath hitched. 
He tried to scramble for the other side of the hallway just a moment too late. 
“HihN’KTCHh-chu!! HihH-! HheH”KNTtt-chu!!” Vân stifled, as usual, but even so, the resulting small magic breeze was enough to make Renard’s breath catch as well. 
“Hh…hiH-” Renard rubbed his nose, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he tried to swallow the urge to sneeze back down. 
“...Sorry, the hand sanitizer you’re wearing was a lil strong.” Vân whispered, giving him an apologetic smile- which Renard immediately chose to outright ignore, his ears starting to turn a little red as he turned away- 
-and realized that while he’d been distracted, the guard he’d been overthinking about had rounded the corner, spotted them, and was already reaching for their walkie talkie. 
Renard panicked. 
“B-bye!” Wasting absolutely zero time, Renard grabbed hold of Vân’s wrist, dragging the other behind him as he kicked open a window and jumped out of it. Vân followed him willingly without resistance, and, since Renard had just made the absolutely normal executive decision to jump out of a fourth floor window, had to use his wind magic to break their fall. 
…Which, of course, was more than enough to fully set Renard off. 
“Hh’TShh!!” Renard let go of Vân’s wrist as soon as his feet touched the ground, his hands hovering in front of his face as he backed away from him. “H’TCHh!! Hh–’tch! ‘TSHhi!! Heh- hiH’TSHh!!” 
Vân stood off to the side, occasionally glancing at the building to see if anyone was immediately coming after them, and waited until there’d been a minute without any further hitching from Renard before saying; 
“Bless you. …Soooo, are we calling it a night, or are we… going back in there?” 
‘We can never attempt another heist again’ was Renard’s immediate thought. Instead of responding to Vân though, he turned and started walking away. 
“Wh- hey?! Is that meant to be your answer?” Vân quickly caught up, walking in time with him, albeit keeping a slight distance between them. “Renaaard. C’mon, I need to know if I need to adjust my schedule to try again tomorrow night-” 
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thekinkyleopard · 11 hours ago
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Me during the whole ending piece of Sven falling apart and Elex just doing his best to help him through it 😩😩😩😩😩 I love their banter so much 🤪 so many moments of me just giggling and kicking my feet
Got a request by @1dwaekki to write a follow up fic to Oxygen~
Yes I know, I suck a lot and didn’t feel like drawing a new cover so I used the most recent pic I did of S7en, oops 😅
Breathless, Again (oxygen pt 2)
Written & Illustrated by: allergeez
6.7k words // Summary: S7en is still recovering—but if you ask him, he’s fine. He refuses to be treated like he’s fragile, refuses to be a burden, and most importantly, refuses to let his own body ruin things any more than it already has.
So the second he’s back home, he pushes himself too hard. Too fast. Ignoring the exhaustion, the weight in his chest, the way his lungs still fight him for every breath. Elex sees right through it—but S7en is nothing if not stubborn.
It’s only a matter of time before everything catches up to him.
As S7en fights against his own limits, Elex is forced to step in, not with anger—but with patience. With quiet insistence, steady hands, and the kind of care S7en doesn’t know how to accept.
Because S7en doesn’t need to prove he’s okay.
He just needs to be okay.
Content Warnings:
Illness themes (fever, sneezing, coughing, breathing difficulty, pneumonia)
Medical care (medication, inhalers)
Emotional distress (self-worth struggles, reluctant vulnerability)
Anxiety (frustration, overstimulation, physical exhaustion)
Lighthearted teasing and affectionate insults
Strong language
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S7en had barely been conscious for the car ride home, floating in the fevered, exhausted haze that had consumed him for the past two days. Two whole days trapped in a sterile, suffocating hospital room, his body reduced to nothing but a collection of strained breaths and clipped medical jargon. His lungs had refused to cooperate this time—tight, stubborn, unrelenting—and despite his best efforts, he had spent most of his hospital stay tethered to a nasal cannula, sucking in pure oxygen like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.
Now, finally free, the crisp evening air wrapped around him like a long-forgotten luxury. He could breathe—sort of. Enough that they had let him go, at least. That was all that mattered.
S7en exhaled slowly, eyes heavy-lidded as he turned toward their apartment door, ears sagging slightly against his will. His entire body was still unimaginably weak, the kind of exhaustion that settled into his bones, weighing down every movement. Even his tail, usually flicking with lazy amusement or irritation, hung limp behind him.
Still, he could open a fucking door.
Moving slow, careful, he reached into his pocket for his keys, fingers trembling just slightly as they closed around the cool metal—
“Oi! Stop.”
S7en barely had time to react before the sound of heavy boots on pavement announced Elex—barreling toward him from the car, arms overloaded with bags, jackets, and whatever-the-hell else he had grabbed from the hospital room. His voice was sharp, authoritative, the kind of no-questions-asked command he only used when he was pissed—or worried.
S7en froze, rolling his vivid orange eyes as his tail gave a singular, weak flick of irritation.
"You know opening the door won’t kill me, right?"
Or, at least, that’s what he tried to say.
What actually came out was an embarrassingly hoarse, pitiful squeak.
His throat was wrecked, voice completely shot, every syllable barely audible through the raw, swollen wreckage that the infection had left behind.
Elex, already shoving his own keys into the door, stopped cold.
Slowly, he turned his head, brows furrowing, mismatched eyes locking onto S7en like a sniper sighting a target.
“…Excuse me?”
S7en, annoyed but too drained to argue, simply coughed weakly into his sleeve, not bothering to answer.
Elex, silent, finished unlocking the door in one sharp motion before pushing it open.
"Inside. Now."
S7en, beyond done, dragged himself forward, stepping over the threshold into the dim familiarity of their apartment. The smell of home hit him immediately—paint, lingering traces of incense, the faint, ever-present scent of Elex’s cologne. Warmth. Comfort. The opposite of the cold, sterile walls he had been trapped in for the past two days.
For a moment, he simply stood there, letting the exhaustion pull at his body, letting himself sink into the sensation of being home.
Then—
A sudden, heavy thud as Elex dropped their bags unceremoniously onto the floor behind him.
S7en turned just in time to see the badger shrugging off his jacket, expression tense, posture stiff—all telltale signs that he was about five seconds away from losing his shit.
Here we go.
S7en’s orange eyes scanned the apartment, taking in the aftermath of the party, and something tight and miserable twisted deep in his chest, his ears pinning back against his skull.
Oh.
It looked like a massacre.
The walls were still adorned with limp streamers, hanging in sad, sagging loops, their once vibrant colors now dulled and lifeless. Half-deflated balloons clung desperately to the floor, some rolling listlessly with the draft from the open door. The hand-painted decorations he had spent hours—days—perfecting were scattered across every available surface, abandoned and forgotten.
And then there was everything else.
Plastic cups, crumpled napkins, empty beer cans—a graveyard of discarded celebration. The coffee table was littered with half-eaten food, and somewhere near the couch, a party hat sat crushed under someone’s boot print, like a cruel, careless afterthought.
S7en felt his throat tighten.
His chest ached—not just from the pneumonia, not just from the exhaustion pressing down on him like dead weight, but from something deeper. Something raw.
He had worked himself into the ground for this party.
Had spent weeks planning it.
Had given everything he had left—his time, his energy, his health—to make it perfect.
And now—
Now it was over.
Now it was ruined.
He swallowed hard, but the moisture was already beginning to build in his fever-glazed, glassy eyes, threatening to spill over before he could stop it.
God. He was so fucking tired.
And his body—his emotions—had nothing left to give.
Behind him, Elex noticed immediately.
“Hey,” the badger murmured, his usual rough-edged voice softened at the corners. “Don’t—don’t worry about this, alright?”
S7en didn’t respond, still staring at the mess, his ears slowly sinking with quiet devastation.
Elex ran a hand through his messy green hair, exhaling before rolling up his sleeves.
“I’ll clean it up. By tomorrow, it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”
He said it with the same casual confidence he used when getting out of trouble—like he could will the situation into something manageable just by deciding it would be.
But when he turned back toward S7en—
His breath hitched.
Something was off.
S7en’s distant, unfocused stare wasn’t just exhaustion.
His slight squint wasn’t just from the moisture in his eyes.
Elex knew that look.
Knew it very well.
A slow smirk tugged at the badger’s lips.
“Bless you in advance,” he said.
Immediately, a light pink dusted over S7en’s already fever-flushed face, his shoulders tensing slightly.
His nose twitched again, the slow, creeping itch beginning to build—tantalizingly, maddeningly—deep within his sinuses.
God, not now.
He tried to glare at Elex, something half-hearted and unimpressed, but the mounting sneeze cut him off completely.
“Hh—! Hh'AHHTschh! Hh—! HHAHH—! HAHDT’tchhiew!! Hh—! AHHDT’tchhiiuhh! ”
The force of them jerked his frame forward, and before he could so much as breathe, the sneezes morphed into a brutal, chest-deep coughing fit.
The raw, scraping sound tore through him, his entire body curling inward as his lungs fought viciously against him.
Elex’s smirk vanished immediately.
He was there in a second, one hand bracing S7en’s back, the other gripping his arm to keep him steady.
"Jesus, fuck, S7en—breathe, kid—"
S7en barely heard him, too caught in the wreckage of his own body, his ears pressing flat against his skull.
Elex tightened his grip, grounding him.
When the fit finally, finally eased, S7en slumped forward, his breath still rattling in his chest, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to recover.
Elex exhaled through his nose, shaking his head, but his hand remained firm and steady against S7en’s back.
"...You good?"
S7en cracked open one watery, miserable orange eye, shooting him a weak, glare-adjacent look.
Elex huffed a laugh—quiet, fond, just a little exasperated.
Then, softer—genuinely meaning it this time:
“Bless you.”
S7en wanted to crawl out of his own skin.
The moment Elex muttered, "Bless you," the badger’s warm, steady hand still braced between his shoulder blades, something deep in S7en’s chest twisted in frustration.
He hated this.
Hated the way his body betrayed him every few minutes, tearing through his last scraps of dignity with these brutal, relentless fits. Hated the way Elex looked at him—worried, watching him like he might break apart at any second. Hated that every time he so much as shifted his weight, Elex was there, ready to catch him like he was seconds from collapse.
Maybe he was, but that wasn’t the fucking point.
This wasn’t him.
S7en was used to being sick, but he wasn’t this kind of sick. He wasn’t fragile, wasn’t someone who needed to be taken care of—wasn’t supposed to be this goddamn weak.
Another harsh, rattling cough clawed its way up from his lungs, cutting through the feverish static in his head. He barely had time to turn away, pressing the sleeve of his hoodie against his mouth as his body shook with the force of it.
Elex’s hand tensed, fingers gripping into the fabric of his hoodie, steadying him again.
S7en’s ears flattened in irritation.
Enough.
He jerked out of Elex’s hold, staggering forward a step, breathing hard, barely steady on his feet—but still standing.
"I'm fine," he rasped, voice a raw, scraped-up wreck of sound.
Elex snorted. Loud. Unimpressed.
"Yeah? You sound fine."
S7en ignored him.
Or tried to.
Except—his sinuses had other plans.
The burning tickle had barely given him a break, lingering just under the surface, simmering relentlessly behind his nose and eyes. And now—with his breath still short, his body still weak and trembling—it surged forward again, sharp and overwhelming.
S7en barely managed a gasp of warning before he snapped forward, the fit tearing into him with brutal force.
“Hh—hhAHH’Tschh! HhAHHKTschhh! Hhh—! HHhh! HHAHH—! HAHDT’tchiew! Hhh! AHHDT’tschue!”
Each one ripped through his already shredded lungs, leaving fire in his chest, his ribs aching like something had been bruised or cracked from the sheer force of it.
And then—the coughing hit again.
Hard.
It stole the air from his lungs, wracking through him until his knees nearly buckled under him.
His hands gripped the counter, holding on for dear fucking life as his body fought viciously against itself.
Elex was there again in a flash.
Hands on him, steady, grounding, pulling him back before he could fall.
"You’re fine, huh?" Elex muttered, half annoyed, half furious, but his grip was gentle, voice low and serious. "You think this is fucking fine?"
S7en wanted to answer.
Wanted to tell him to fuck off, to stop looking at him like that, to just back off—
But he couldn’t fucking breathe.
The coughing fit was too deep, too brutal, too much, and his vision spotted at the edges, his lungs screaming, his head swimming with fever and exhaustion.
His fingers trembled against the counter, and his legs wouldn’t stop shaking.
Elex felt it.
And that was the worst part.
The badger cursed under his breath, wrapping an arm around S7en’s waist, pulling him back before he faceplanted right there in the middle of the fucking kitchen.
"Okay, that’s it—I’m done with this bullshit," Elex snapped, hauling S7en toward the couch despite the feline’s weak, half-hearted struggling.
S7en let out a low, frustrated growl, batting at his hands even as he stumbled against him, utterly defeated by his own fucking body.
"Dude, seriously, let me—"
"No."
Elex cut him off sharply, voice hard, final, leaving no room for argument.
Then—his tone softened—just a little.
"You need to sit down, dumbass. And for once in your miserable life, you’re gonna listen to me."
S7en hated how exhausted he was.
Hated how his body wouldn’t move the way he wanted it to.
Hated that—no matter how badly he wanted to fight back—his traitorous limbs had already given up on him.
Elex barely had to guide him down onto the couch before he collapsed against the cushions, completely drained, head swimming, breath still uneven and wrong.
His ear twitched in irritation, but he didn’t move.
Didn’t argue.
Didn’t fight anymore.
Because—fuck it.
He was too goddamn tired.
Elex didn’t let himself relax until S7en’s breathing evened out—well, as even as it was going to get. The kid still looked like hell, slumped against the cushions with half-lidded eyes and a slack grip around the blanket Elex had thrown over him. His tail flicked weakly, more from habit than any real energy, and his ears twitched in irritation every time his breath hitched into a congested wheeze.
It was bad. Still too bad. But at least he was sitting, not swaying like he was about to drop. That was a start.
Elex exhaled sharply through his nose, dragging a hand down his face before pushing himself up from the couch. He needed to get his shit together. They had a whole bag of meds sitting on the counter, and for once, S7en wasn’t going to be the stubborn idiot refusing to take them. No, that was Elex’s job now—figuring out how the hell all this medical bullshit worked.
His boots were heavy against the floor as he moved toward the kitchen, flipping on the dim overhead light. The white pharmacy bag sat there, mocking him, filled to the brim with bottles, blister packs, inhalers—hell, one of these things might’ve just been straight-up magic. He grabbed the first bottle, squinting at the label like it had personally wronged him.
"Take one tablet by mouth twice daily with food—unless otherwise instructed by a physician."
What the fuck did that mean? Was he supposed to wait for otherwise-instruction? Or was that just there to fuck with him?
Elex muttered something under his breath, shooting a glare at the offensive medication. Fucking hell, how did people do this every day?
He scowled, shaking the bottle like it might start making sense if he rattled it around enough.
The next one was just as bad.
"Take two puffs every four to six hours as needed. Do not exceed prescribed dose."
Okay. Cool. That was fine.
Except—the hospital never actually told him what the prescribed dose was.
And then—there was the liquid medication, which had no dosing instructions at all—just a cryptic warning about side effects and some useless-ass guidelines about food intake.
Elex ran a hand through his hair, exasperated, glancing back and forth between the bottles, the inhalers, and S7en, who had been silent this whole time, sitting on the couch, still trying to get his breathing under control.
The kid looked like hell.
Still pale, still feverish, still sitting with his head tilted back slightly, eyes half-lidded, like even the act of keeping them open was just too much effort.
His chest rose and fell unevenly, each inhale too shallow, too weak—not enough to fully fill his lungs, but too much effort to take in anything deeper.
Elex sighed heavily, rubbing at his temple with his free hand.
"Okay, what the fuck is all this shit supposed to do?" he muttered, glaring at the pile of medication like it personally offended him.
S7en huffed softly, the sound half-exhausted, half-amused, and didn’t even look up before he started listing them off.
"Antibiotic, once in the morning, once at night."
His voice was wrecked, but steady, like he had done this a thousand times before.
"Steroid—twice a day, no food restrictions. Just tastes like absolute shit, so, fair warning."
Elex blinked, glancing down at the bottle in his hand.
"Rescue inhaler—only if I’m actually dying. Preventative inhaler—morning and night. That’s the one that makes my heart feel like it’s about to explode, so don’t freak out when that happens."
He cleared his throat, wincing slightly like the action made it worse, before continuing.
"Cough suppressant—doesn’t work, but I have to take it anyway. Decongestant—also doesn’t work. Painkiller—every six hours. Liquid bullshit—tastes worse than the steroid."
Elex just stared at him.
For a solid five seconds, he didn’t say anything.
Then, finally—he glanced back at the pill bottles, thumbing through them until he found the right ones.
"Geezus Christ," he muttered, shaking his head. "You almost have your own pharmacy here with all the meds they gave you."
S7en let out a tired, unamused huff, before scrubbing at his nose with the back of his knuckles, his ears twitching with irritation.
Elex handed him the first set of pills, watching carefully as S7en picked them out of his palm with slightly trembling fingers.
For a moment, Elex debated saying something else, something serious, but instead—
"You know, I feel like if you took all of these at once, you’d either level up as a person or just ascend to the next plane of existence."
S7en snorted, which immediately backfired.
His breath hitched sharply, his body seizing up involuntarily as the tickle surged back with a vengeance.
"Hh—HAHDT’tchhiew!! Hh—! AHHDT’tchhiiuhh!!"
The cat barely had a second to recover before another sharp, breathless hitch overtook him, his sinuses pulsing with maddening intensity. He gasped sharply, trying to brace himself, but the force of the next fit crashed into him with zero mercy.
“Hhh—! HHhh! HHAHH—! HAHDT’tchiew! Hhh! AHHDT’tschue!! Hh! HhAHHKTschh’uhh—!”
The pills slipped from his fingers, scattering across the hardwood floor with a light, traitorous clatter.
His cheeks burned instantly.
For a second, he just sat there, frozen, ears pinning back against his messy teal hair, his tail curling tighter around himself. He wasn’t even sure what was worse—the fact that he had just sneezed the meds out of his own damn hands or the fact that it made him feel so fucking infantile.
He groaned, tipping his head back against the couch in pure miserable humiliation, before leaning forward slightly, already reaching to grab the fallen pills.
Elex swatted his hands away before he could even touch them.
S7en scowled instantly, his fever-glazed orange eyes narrowing as he snapped his gaze up to glare at the badger. “I got it—”
“Yeah, you sure do,” Elex deadpanned, already crouching down to pick up the scattered pills himself.
S7en huffed, irritated, before quickly scrubbing at the underside of his still twitching nose with his knuckles. His tail flicked sharply behind him, his ears twitching again as Elex scooped up the last pill and stood, smirking lightly as he dusted them off in his palm.
Something about the expression made S7en’s already thin patience snap.
He glared up at him. "What’s so funny?"
The moment the words left his mouth, his already destroyed voice cracked halfway through—a pathetic, raspy break that made him sound more like a dying animal than an actual person.
Elex exhaled a sharp, amused breath through his nose. Not quite a laugh, but damn close.
S7en scowled harder, sniffling sharply against his wrist to regain what little dignity he had left.
Elex pressed the pills firmly back into his palm before straightening up, shaking his head slightly. “Nothing’s funny,” he said, voice casual—before immediately following up with, “I was just trying to figure out how the hell you hid being sick from me for so long.”
S7en rolled his eyes, leaning back into the couch with a tired huff. “Elex, I hide shit from you all the time—”
“Yeah, no, see—that’s bullshit.” Elex raised a brow, crossing his arms. “Your sneezes when you get sick are not very… stealthy.”
S7en scoffed, sniffling again, before a slow, smug smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “That’s because I stifled them so well,” he admitted with a nonchalant shrug.
Elex blinked.
Then—he frowned. "You what?"
S7en lazily rolled the pills around in his palm, smirking despite himself. “Yeah, man. I stifled the hell out of them.”
Elex squinted at him, skeptical. “When?”
S7en sniffled absently, rubbing at his nose with the edge of his sleeve. “You remember when we were watching that dumbass action movie, and you wouldn’t shut the fuck up about how the stunt choreography was unrealistic?”
Elex tilted his head, thinking, before snapping his fingers. “Oh, yeah. That one scene with the glass—”
“I was literally dying next to you.”
Elex paused.
Stared.
“…Excuse me?”
S7en smirked slightly, tail flicking lazily behind him. “Had to fake getting a drink so I could leave the room. Barely made it to the kitchen before I fucking lost it.”
Elex’s eyes narrowed, his jaw working slightly as he absorbed that information.
S7en, seeing his moment, went for the kill. “Oh, and also—remember when we were at that corner store and you spent ten whole minutes debating between two energy drinks, like they weren’t both just sugar and violence in a can?”
Elex frowned. “That was an important decision, dumbass.”
“Sure.” S7en’s smirk deepened, lazy and teasing. “Meanwhile, I was behind you, holding onto the counter for dear life because my lungs weren’t cooperating, and I was pretty sure I was about to pass out right there in the snack aisle.”
Elex’s frown deepened.
S7en leaned back slightly, gaze flickering upward in mock thoughtfulness. “Oh, and—you remember when we were in the car and you were yelling at Rex on speaker about how he treats his transmission like a war crime?”
“…Yeah?”
S7en snickered, pressing the back of his wrist against his nose. “Dude. I was dying next to you. Had to time my sneezes with your road rage just to keep you from noticing.”
Elex blinked. “…What?”
“You literally screamed, ‘USE YOUR FUCKING BLINKER YOU GODDAMN TWAT,’ right as I sneezed,” S7en wheezed a short, small laugh, rubbing his nose. “It was a perfect cover. Like, cinematic-level shit.”
Elex’s jaw dropped slightly, blinking at him in pure, stunned disbelief.
S7en grinned wildly. “You really don’t pay attention, man.”
Elex crossed his arms, planting his feet, his entire posture shifting into something stubborn.
“Alright. New house rules.”
S7en blinked. “…The fuck?”
Elex pointed at him. “One—you’re gonna let me take care of you.”
S7en opened his mouth, already scowling. “Oh, absolutely not—”
“Two—” Elex steamrolled right over him, ignoring the protest entirely. “There will be no more of that stifling bullshit.”
S7en’s ears pinned back slightly, his tail flicking sharply. “Dude—”
“Don’t ‘dude’ me,” Elex said firmly, brow furrowing. “I don’t give a shit what the reason is—you’re not doing that anymore.”
S7en let out a sharp, exasperated sigh, tossing his head back against the couch. “Christ, you’re so dramatic—”
“Says the guy who passed out holding a birthday cake.”
S7en froze.
Elex’s smirk was victorious.
“…Low fucking blow.”
“You’re the one who literally hit the floor—”
“I hate you.”
“Anyway,” Elex continued, finally dropping it, as he flopped into the chair across from him, stretching his legs out with a loud sigh. “I’m starving, and you gotta take some of that hospital-grade poison they sent you home with after eating, right?”
S7en hesitated, glancing at the various pills Elex had slipped into his palm. He couldn’t really argue.
“…Yeah,” he muttered begrudgingly.
Elex nodded, clapping his hands together. “Cool. What are we ordering?”
S7en sighed again, dramatically this time. “I don’t care.”
Elex raised an eyebrow. “No, see, that’s how we end up ordering some dumb shit that you pretend to like so you don’t hurt my feelings.”
S7en rolled his orange eyes, sniffling lightly. “Not my fault you eat like an unsupervised toddler.”
Elex grinned, not remotely offended. “Damn right.”
And with that, he grabbed his phone, already pulling up a food delivery app, leaving no room for further argument.
S7en tried to get up.
Tried, being the key word, because the second he started shifting toward the bedroom, Elex shot him a look.
“Oh, no, no, no. You’re staying right here,” Elex said, pointing at the couch like it was some kind of containment zone. “Where I can see you.”
S7en groaned loudly, tail flicking sharply. “Dude. I’m not gonna fucking evaporate if you look away for five seconds.”
Elex raised a brow. “You literally collapsed in front of me two days ago. Forgive me if I’m a little concerned about your ability to stay upright.”
S7en scowled, arms crossing over his chest. “I’m fine.”
“You sound fine,” Elex deadpanned, watching as S7en immediately broke into a chest-deep coughing fit.
S7en glared at him through watery eyes, rasping, “Fugk you.”
Elex just snorted, unfazed. “C’mon, sit your ass back down.”
S7en huffed, annoyed, but conceded—partly because he was too tired to keep arguing, but mostly because the food was almost here, and he was not letting Elex order something objectively terrible out of spite.
The smell of food hit first. The second Elex opened the door, the warm, greasy aroma filled the apartment, making S7en’s stomach tighten in anticipation.
They settled in, their usual chaotic banter tapering off into something comfortable, familiar, easy.
Elex picked a movie—some ridiculous action flick with an actual stunt budget this time, S7en noted—and for the first time in days, S7en actually relaxed.
Until his nose itched.
Badly.
He froze mid-bite, the unbearable, creeping tickle flaring to life behind his sinuses, building way too fast.
Shit.
S7en barely managed to shove his plate onto the coffee table before his breath hitched sharply, his ears flattening as his body jerked forward.
“Hh—! Hhh! HAHPT’tschiew!! HAH! AHHDT’shiiiiew!”
Elex chuckled, not even glancing away from the screen. “Bless you.”
S7en groaned, scrubbing furiously at his nose, already feeling the tickle threatening another round.
Another sharp inhale—
“HAHDT’tchiew!! HAH’tsschhiew!”
Elex snickered, shaking his head. “Dude. Are you even eating anymore?”
S7en just glared at him, sniffling before finally grabbing his food again.
But the damage was done.
Between the sneezing and the growing warmth in his stomach, S7en’s exhaustion finally caught up with him. His limbs felt heavier, his blinks slower, and before he knew it, he had somehow ended up half-laying down, his head resting on Elex’s lap.
Elex didn’t comment on it.
He just kept watching the movie, one hand idly moving to S7en’s hair, running his fingers through the tangled strands.
S7en sighed, melting into the touch, his ears twitching slightly as Elex’s fingers absentmindedly scratched at the base of them.
He didn’t remember closing his eyes.
Didn’t remember the movie ending.
Just the steady warmth of Elex’s lap and the slow, rhythmic drag of his fingers through his hair.
Then—
The tickle.
It built slowly, creeping back to life somewhere deep in his sinuses, sharp and relentless.
S7en’s breath hitched.
Oh, no.
Not now.
Not here.
Not while he was literally using Elex as a pillow.
His ears flattened, his tail curling tighter around himself as his breath trembled, fighting desperately against the overwhelming urge to sneeze.
But it was winning.
Shit.
S7en clenched his jaw, pressing his wrist hard against his nose.
“Hh’NGXT! Ktchhh!—h’NNgch!”
The pressure spiked, throbbing through his sinuses, but he forced his body to stay still, stifling the rest down into silence.
…Or at least, he thought he did.
Until—
A low, familiar sigh from above.
“…Dude.”
S7en’s heart sank.
Shit.
Slowly, hesitantly, he cracked one eye open.
Elex was staring down at him, unamused, brow slightly furrowed.
“Seriously?”
S7en winced, clearing his throat weakly. “…Didn’t wanna wake you.”
Elex tilted his head, voice flat. “You think that’s what woke me up?”
S7en blinked. “…Yes?”
Elex exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “Geezus Christ, dude.”
S7en sniffled, grumbling, “What.”
Elex gestured vaguely. “Your head was literally on my lap. I could feel you physically trying not to explode.”
S7en’s cheeks burned, his tail flicking sharply.
“…Not my fault your legs are too bony to absorb the impact.”
Elex scoffed, nudging his shoulder. “Not my fault you’re an idiot.”
S7en huffed, rubbing at his temple.
His head pounded, the self-inflicted pressure ringing in his ears.
Elex noticed.
S7en saw it in the way his expression softened slightly, his lips parting like he was about to say something.
But instead—
Elex just sighed again, shaking his head before gently shoving S7en back down onto the couch.
“Go back to sleep, dumbass.”
And S7en, with absolutely no energy left to fight, did exactly that.
S7en woke up with his body already fighting against him.
The headache was still there, dull but persistent, lingering behind his eyes like an uninvited guest. His throat burned, his chest ached, and every inhale still felt just a little too tight—but it was better than before. Better than the hospital.
And that meant he was fine.
That meant he could get up, do things, prove to Elex—and to himself—that he wasn’t some helpless burden.
So, the second Elex left to run errands, S7en forced himself upright, shaking off the exhaustion that clung to his limbs like lead. He ignored the way the room tilted slightly, ignored the way his chest protested, and made his way to the kitchen.
Dishes. There were dishes in the sink. He could do dishes.
Never mind that he had to lean against the counter for balance, or that his fingers trembled slightly when he reached for a plate. It was fine. He was fine.
Until he wasn’t.
S7en barely made it through rinsing two plates before his breath hitched violently, his lungs locking up like rusted gears. His hands clamped down on the counter, knuckles white, as the coughing started—deep, raw, and completely unstoppable. His body lurched with the force of it, his chest burning as oxygen became an afterthought.
The plate in his hand slipped.
It shattered against the floor.
And, of course—that was exactly when Elex walked in.
Just in time to see S7en wobbling like a newborn deer, gripping the counter like it was the only thing keeping him upright.
His eyes narrowed. Immediately.
S7en, caught red-handed, tried to play it off.
"Chill, I was just—"
"Sit your ass down."
It wasn’t even angry. Just flat, exasperated, and completely done.
S7en barely managed to straighten up before Elex was right there, steering him firmly back to the couch like a misbehaving toddler.
He grumbled the entire way down, but Elex didn’t care.
Instead, he pulled his phone from his pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and—
BZZT BZZT.
S7en squinted at him. "…What was that?"
Elex, expression blank, held up the screen.
The alarm read: “S7EN MEDS. 3PM. NO EXCUSES.”
S7en blinked. Then blinked again.
"…You set a fucking alarm?"
"Yep."
"To—what, force-feed me medicine like I’m a goddamn child?"
"If that’s what it takes."
S7en stared.
Elex stared back, completely unfazed.
Then, without waiting for an argument, Elex grabbed the nearest prescription bottle, shook out the correct dose, and handed it to S7en along with the half-empty water bottle from earlier.
S7en groaned, dramatically flopping back against the cushions.
"You are such a pain in my ass."
"And you are a fucking menace," Elex shot back. "Now take your damn meds."
S7en grumbled something under his breath, but he took the pills anyway. Partly because he had no energy to argue. Partly because he knew Elex wouldn’t let him off the hook.
As he swallowed them down, he sighed, rubbing the back of his burning-hot neck.
"…I dunno how you’re even standing this," he muttered, not looking at Elex. "You probably wanna burn your whole outfit after sitting this close to me."
Elex snorted. "You’d think."
S7en hesitated. Then, quieter—almost sheepish:
"…Sorry."
For once, Elex didn’t have a snarky response.
He just shook his head, sighing, before reaching over to mess up S7en’s already disaster-tier hair.
"You’re a dumbass," he muttered.
S7en huffed, ears flicking.
But he didn’t argue.
He kept his gaze fixed on his lap, fingers picking at a loose thread on the blanket draped over his legs.
He meant it. The apology.
He knew how Elex was about germs. Knew he was probably the last person in the world the badger wanted to be around right now. Hell, if the roles were reversed, S7en was pretty sure Elex would’ve exiled him to the couch and disinfected the entire apartment on sight.
But instead, here he was.
Sitting barely a foot away, watching him like he actually gave a shit.
S7en’s throat felt tight, but not from the illness.
"...Sorry," he muttered again, softer this time.
For once, Elex didn’t bite back.
No sarcasm, no snark, no immediate smartass remark.
Just a sigh. Then a hand in his hair, ruffling it up in a way that was almost—affectionate.
"Again, you’re a dumbass," Elex murmured, voice gruff but not unkind.
S7en blinked, startled by the sudden shift, his ears flicking instinctively at the touch. He turned just enough to glance at Elex—noticing, maybe for the first time, just how exhausted he looked, too. The shadows under his eyes, the way his shoulders sat with a tension that had nothing to do with annoyance and everything to do with concern.
The realization sat uncomfortably in S7en’s chest.
He’d been so focused on proving he wasn’t a burden that he hadn’t stopped to think about how much of a pain in the ass he’d been anyway.
S7en huffed, leaning just slightly into Elex’s touch before he could stop himself.
"...You didn’t have to stay, y’know," he muttered, almost embarrassed. "Could’ve just thrown cough drops at me from across the room or something."
Elex scoffed. "Yeah. That’s what I should’ve done."
S7en smirked, just a little, but it was softer now—less of a smirk, more of a quiet acknowledgment.
He still felt like shit. But at least now, he didn’t feel like he had to deal with it alone.
For the rest of the night, S7en was weirdly compliant.
Took his meds without arguing. Didn’t complain when Elex adjusted his pillows. Even let himself be half-buried under the weighted blanket without making some snide comment about suffocation.
And Elex didn’t trust it for a second.
He narrowed his eyes as he sat down on the couch across from him, cracking open a can of some disgusting energy drink he probably shouldn’t be drinking at one in the morning.
“You’re being suspiciously cooperative,” he muttered, watching S7en like he was waiting for him to snap back into his usual brand of stubborn bullshit.
S7en just shrugged weakly, tugging the blanket higher like he was trying to disappear inside it.
"Yeah, well," he mumbled, voice thick with congestion and something else. "Turns out fighting you on this whole thing was kind of a massive dick move."
Elex raised an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”
S7en exhaled shakily, his ears flattening slightly. He stared down at the blanket in his lap, his fingers fidgeting with a loose thread.
“I just…” he started, then hesitated, chewing the inside of his cheek.
Elex waited. Didn’t rush him.
And then, S7en crumbled.
His shoulders sagged, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer, rawer.
“…I just wanted you to have a good birthday.”
Elex blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift.
S7en swallowed hard, shaking his head.
"I tried so hard to make it perfect," he whispered, his fever-flushed face twisting in frustration. "And all I did was—ruin it. I passed out in the middle of the fucking party. You spent your whole damn birthday sitting in a hospital with me for two days while my lungs tried to fucking kill me, and I was a complete asshole the entire time because���because I didn’t want—"
His voice cracked. His breathing hitched.
“I didn’t want another thing making me this—weak, fragile thing that everyone has to tiptoe around."
The words came fast, unraveling all at once, like he had been holding them back for far too long.
His ears flattened further, his tail curling tight against his side. His vision blurred, burning hot and heavy, and before he could stop it—a tear slipped down his cheek.
S7en gritted his teeth hard, like he could will himself to keep it together.
But it was too late.
S7en groaned, dragging the blanket higher over his face like it could physically shield him from the absolute disaster this night had become. His chest still ached, every breath too tight, too shallow, his limbs shaking from exhaustion and fever.
And now? Now he was crying.
Like some pathetic, fragile thing that couldn’t even hold himself together.
He sniffled hard, but it didn’t do much—his nose was already a mess, congestion weighing heavy behind his eyes, his entire face burning.
"I’m sorry, El…" he rasped, voice cracking painfully.
Elex, predictably, just snorted.
"Nah. This is new. I’m not used to emotional S7en. Kinda nice, actually. You should be pathetic more often.”
S7en let out a weak, miserable wheeze of a laugh, half-buried beneath the blanket. But the moment the breath left him, his face twisted again, another surge of heat rushing behind his eyes.
He sucked in a shaky inhale, gripping the fabric of the blanket so tightly his fingers ached.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Elex blinked, the teasing smirk dropping instantly.
And then, before S7en could stop it—before he could shove it down like he always did—the words came tumbling out.
"I’m so sorry," he whispered, voice hoarse and broken.
Elex froze.
S7en sniffled again, his breath shuddering, his ears flattening against his skull as the weight of everything crashed down on him all at once.
"I—fuck, I ruined everything,” he choked, his throat closing up mid-sentence. "Your birthday, the party, all of it—I just—I wanted it to be perfect for you. And instead—"
His hands curled tighter into the blanket, his shoulders trembling.
"Instead you spent two days in a fucking hospital waiting for me to breathe properly. Instead of having fun, you were—sitting there, watching me, waiting for me to fucking—"
His voice broke completely, his vision swimming, his face already damp with fever and tears.
“You didn’t deserve that,” he rasped, hiccupping on the inhale. "I should’ve just—I should’ve told you—"
His breath hitched hard.
And then it all went to hell.
The crying set off a coughing fit—a violent, wrecking thing that tore through his lungs like fire. His chest seized, his ribs protesting the force, his body curling in on itself as he fought for air.
The second cough didn’t even fully land before the next one slammed into him, then another, then another—too fast, too deep, too much.
His vision blurred completely, a horrible static rising in his ears as the burning in his chest tightened—tightened—
Fuck.
Fuck.
He couldn’t breathe.
The panic set in immediately, his claws digging into the fabric of the blanket, his body locked in a frantic, gasping spiral. He couldn’t stop coughing, couldn’t inhale properly, couldn’t—
Elex was there in a second.
"Hey—hey, hey, breathe—S7en—slow down, you gotta slow down—"
S7en shook his head wildly, his hands gripping Elex’s hoodie on instinct, but it wasn’t working. His body wasn’t listening. Every breath came out short and frantic, his chest spasming like a malfunctioning engine.
He heard his own name, Elex’s voice breaking through the haze, but the static was getting louder, the world tilting dangerously, his lungs refusing to—
Then—something pressed against his lips.
"Inhale. Now."
S7en barely had time to process before the quick burst of medicated air hit his lungs.
He gasped. Choked. His hands shook violently, his tail flicking frantically as his body fought to cooperate.
Elex gave him another hit, then another, rubbing circles into his back, muttering something grounding and firm.
“That’s it, kid—just breathe—”
Slowly—painfully—S7en’s lungs unclenched.
The hitching eased.
His muscles unlocked.
And when he finally, finally took a full inhale—it actually fucking worked.
S7en collapsed back against the couch, his entire body trembling, his breath still uneven—but at least it was breath.
Elex let out a heavy sigh, dragging a hand down his face.
Then, in true Elex fashion, he let out a sharp scoff.
"Geezus, your fever’s really cranking up the dramatics," he muttered, shaking his head. "It’s never been this easy to tell how you’re feeling."
S7en, still wrecked, let out a weak, exhausted wheeze of a laugh.
"Go fuck yourself."
Elex grinned.
"Yeah, yeah. Love you too."
S7en was spent.
Completely and utterly drained. His body felt like a bag of lead, every muscle too heavy, too sore, too exhausted to do anything except exist.
But for the first time in days, he wasn’t fighting it.
His breath still wasn’t perfect, but it was steady. His fever still lingered, but it was manageable. His body still ached, but for once, he didn’t feel like he had to push through it alone.
So when Elex moved to get up, S7en half-heartedly grabbed at his hoodie sleeve, murmuring something unintelligible.
Elex paused, glancing down at him.
“D’you need something?”
S7en, barely awake, flicked his tail weakly.
“Don’t—” he mumbled into the fabric of the couch, already half-asleep before he could even finish the sentence.
Elex huffed, but instead of teasing him like he normally would, he just sighed, shaking his head.
“Alright, alright,” he muttered, shifting just enough to get comfortable.
He grabbed a stack of pillows, carefully arranging them on his lap, then nudged S7en toward them.
The cat didn’t even argue.
Didn’t crack a joke, didn’t make a snide remark—just weakly adjusted himself, resting his head on the pillows, his breath slow and deep.
Elex pulled the blanket up over him, making sure it covered his shoulders, his arms, even his tail. Then, without thinking, he carded his fingers through S7en’s hair, slow and lazy.
The soft purring that followed was instant.
Elex snorted, a small, amused smirk pulling at his lips.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath.
But his voice wasn’t mocking.
It was fond.
And when he finally let his own eyes slip shut, his fingers still idly combing through S7en’s hair, he barely had time to register the exhaustion catching up to him before he, too, drifted off.
The room was quiet.
The air was warm.
And for the first time in days, neither of them had to fight anything.
Just sleep.
Just breathe.
Together.
The end 🖤
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snzcaretaker · 1 month ago
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𝕱𝖎𝖑𝖙𝖍𝖞 𝕮𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖆𝖙
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Oh no! Ambrose has caught Edwin's cold...He started feeling under the weather halfway through the day and didn't have a handkerchief available. (Finally got the chance to use my own prompt about sneezing into a cravat <3)
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clownsocks69 · 6 months ago
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PLEASE DON'T INTERACT WITH OR REBLOG TO NON KINK BLOGS!!! anyway back to our regularly scheduled programing have a funky nose tickle of another one of my OC's hee hoo
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