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i’m such a fever lover bro. like yes you’re delirious. yes you’re sweaty but you’re shivering. yeah you’re cuddling up to whoever, yeah you’re pathetic.
Okay okay okay OKAYYYY you guys convinced me. Here’s me, having a crazy allergy attack, in my car, while doing yard work … (1/2- if you like it, there is another vid from the same fit on my page)
Also I am like tinkerbell I need applause to live pls tell me if you got off to my sneezing
hi friends i was doing yard work the other day and my allergies were going so crazy that i had to go into my car twice to have a crazy sneezing fit. does anyone want to see…? feeling self conscious
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summary: there's no way mira or rumi are letting zoey suffer alone when she isn't feeling well.
wc: 1k // tags: sickfic, uni au, slight pining, fluff
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Mira bumps her knee against Zoey’s, turning to frown at her. “Hey. You okay?” she asks quietly, so that the other students sitting in the lecture hall won’t hear her.
Zoey gives her a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes like it usually does. “I’m fine,” Zoey whispers back, shooting Mira a double thumbs-up.
Mira scowls down at her notes, her chest tightening with worry.
Zoey doesn’t seem fine, is the thing. Sure, she’s taking notes as diligently as usual in her turtle-covered notebook, listening attentively to their professor drone on about mitochondria. But over the three months that they’ve been in Bio 100 together, Mira has gotten to know Zoey as a study partner and now a close friend, and she can tell when Zoey’s off. She’s paler than usual and drooping in her seat, propping her head up with one hand. Her eyes keep fluttering shut every now and then, almost as if she has to force herself to stay awake.
It’s a stressful time of year, what with finals just around the corner and winter in full force, but Mira can’t help feeling protective over Zoey. That might be partially due to the fact that she definitely has more-than-platonic feelings for the other girl, but she doesn’t feel like examining that right now. Right now, she just wants to make sure Zoey is okay.
When class ends, Mira packs up her bag, then helps Zoey with her things, since she’s moving slowly.
“Where are you headed? I’ll walk you,” Mira offers as they make their way out of the lecture hall.
Zoey sneezes – a tiny, squeaky thing – and Mira feels her heart constrict with fondness and concern in equal measure.
“I think I’ll just go to the library,” Zoey mumbles, rubbing her nose. “I think I’m getting a cold and my roommates are germaphobes.”
Mira stops in her tracks, staring incredulously at her. “So they just expect you to camp out in the library all day while you feel miserable?”
Zoey shifts on her feet, hiking up her shoulder bag. “I don’t mind…” she says, trailing off uncertainly. Mira takes a long look at her tired eyes and the pallor under her skin and makes a snap decision.
“C’mon,” she says, slinging an arm around Zoey’s shoulders and pulling her close. “You’re coming to my room.”
Zoey hesitates, peering up at her. “Won’t Rumi mind? I’m all gross right now.”
“You’re not gross,” Mira says patiently, gently steering Zoey in the direction of her dorm. “And you know Rumi loves you as much as I do. Plus she’s really good at taking care of sick people. She brought me like, twenty different kinds of soup last time I was sick.”
Zoey giggles, which turns into a cough. Mira holds her even closer, tucked warmly under her arm. Mira wasn’t lying, her roommate Rumi has adored Zoey since the first time they met, so she knows bringing Zoey over for a little TLC won’t be a problem – in fact, Rumi will probably jump at the chance to dote on her.
Thankfully, Mira’s dorm isn’t far from the lecture hall, so they make it over in a just a few minutes. But Mira can feel Zoey shaking against her with tiny shivers that she’s clearly trying to suppress, and she wants to get her warmed up pronto.
“Zoey!” Rumi exclaims cheerfully once Mira unlocks the door and ushers Zoey inside. Rumi jumps up from her desk and comes over to greet them, but her smile drops off her face as soon as she gets a good look at Zoey.
“What’s wrong?” Rumi frowns, obviously noticing the way that Zoey has all but melted into Mira’s side, leaning against her pale and listless.
“She’s not feeling well and her roommates are assholes,” Mira says succinctly, gently pushing Zoey to sit down on her bed and immediately wrapping her up in her softest blanket.
“Oh, poor thing,” Rumi coos, without a hint of teasing. Her eyes go wide and she sits down next to Zoey, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. “Aw, Zo-zo. You’re really warm, I think you have a fever.”
“I’m okay,” Zoey mumbles, blushing slightly. Rumi just kisses her hair and tucks the blanket tighter around her shoulders.
“No you aren’t, but we’re going to take care of you,” Rumi murmurs, tucking a strand of dark hair behind Zoey’s ear. Mira feels a stab of something in her gut – not jealousy, exactly, but maybe something more like longing. Her feelings for both Zoey and Rumi are far from simple.
“Mira, can you order some chicken noodle soup for delivery?” Rumi asks, already getting up to rifle through her sizable medication stash. “She likes that one from the deli on second street, right Zo?”
Zoey nods, looking a little flustered by all the attention, then suddenly sneezes again.
“Aw, bless you baby,” Mira says, her voice going usually soft and the nickname slipping out before she can think better of it. She joins Zoey on the bed, handing her a box of tissues. She starts rubbing her back with one hand and scrolling through her phone on the other, looking for the right deli to order from.
“Sorry I’m being all…germy, in your room,” Zoey says, peering up at them over her tissues. “I really can go if you guys don’t want to get sick. In fact, I probably should go, honestly, I’ll be fine –”
She starts to rise, but Mira gently pulls her back down. “Nuh-uh. You’re staying here, Zo. It’s fine, I promise,” Mira says, squeezing her shoulder.
“Yeah, we want you here, sweetheart,” Rumi says, giving her a small smile. “Now do you want strawberry or grape for the medicine?”
Zoey makes a face. “Uhh…neither?”
“You have a fever,” Rumi says, in a tone that Mira immediately recognizes as the one that means she’s not changing her mind anytime soon. “Fever means meds. Grape or strawberry?”
Zoey pouts. “Grape, I guess.”
Rumi smiles at her, then pours out the medicine into a small cup. Zoey takes the cup reluctantly but swallows down the medication anyway. Mira kisses her temple, and Rumi squeezes her hand.
“You guys are too sweet to me,” Zoey says, looking between them both, her cheeks slightly pink.
“Nah. We’re just as sweet as you deserve,” Mira says, rubbing her back.
“Yep. Let us fuss a little, you’re sick,” Rumi grins. She fluffs up the pillow on Mira’s bed, then pats it invitingly. “Why don’t you lay down and rest a bit while we wait for the soup?”
Zoey glances at Mira. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”
“A hundred thousand percent sure,” Mira nods. “C’mon Zo, when do I ever sugar-coat things?”
Zoey snorts a little. “Never.”
“Exactly,” Mira smirks. She lays down, then holds out an arm. Zoey obligingly curls up against her side, nestling into her. Rumi somehow manages to squeeze onto the tiny bed as well, laying down on Zoey’s other side.
Mira closes her eyes. For her whole life, she’s never quite felt like she fit in anywhere. But somehow, with these two women, she’s suddenly found a home.
summary: zoey & rumi love showering their new girlfriend in flowers. mira wants to love it too, but might be keeping a tiny secret...
wc: 1k // tags: fluff, established relationship
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“Which do you think Mira would like more, the lilies or the peonies?” Zoey asks, tapping her lip thoughtfully as she considers the flowers in front of her.
Rumi, who’s putting finishing touches on a bouquet, glances over. “She loves all the flowers we bring her, Zo. But I’d go peonies. Lilies are depressing.”
“Ooh, or we still have some sunflowers left, right?” Zoey lights up, already peering around the small shop that’s practically bursting with flowers. “Those are definitely cheerful! Mira deserves cheerful. Ugh, isn’t she just the best, Ru?”
“She is,” Rumi agrees, chuckling under her breath. She arranges the last pieces of baby breath and then steps back to admire her work. “Perfect.”
“So perfect,” Zoey echoes dreamily. When Rumi looks at her, she’s gazing off into the distance with a lovestruck look on her face.
“You’ve got it bad, babe,” Rumi smiles, coming over to slip an arm around Zoey’s waist and kiss her temple. “Guess I’m old news, huh?”
“Never!” Zoey’s eyes go wide and she gives Rumi a firm kiss on the lips. “I love you both equally, you know that.”
“I know,” Rumi assures, cupping Zoey’s jaw and running her thumb over her cheek soothingly. “I’m just teasing, baby. I’m as happy as you are that we’re with Mira now.”
“I’m just so glad she wanted to be with us too,” Zoey smiles, and it isn’t hard to read the love in her eyes. “A dream come true.”
“Definitely,” Rumi agrees. “Now, are we doing sunflowers or peonies? Her lunch break is coming up.”
A few minutes later, the two of them traipse across the cobblestone street, leaving their cozy flower shop with a cheerful “be back soon!” sign on the door. The tattoo parlor Mira works at is just across the street from their shop, which is how they ended up meeting in the first place. One day Zoey had stopped by the tattoo parlor with a leftover bouquet and became instant friends with Mira, something she has a knack for. It didn’t take long for Rumi to become friends with her as well, and then even less time for them to decide that they all wanted to be a lot more than just friends.
It’s possible she and Zoey have been a little overexuberant in showing their affection for Mira though, Rumi thinks, as she follows Zoey into the tattoo shop and looks around at the bouquets that are decorating every available surface. They both express their love through florals, it’s why they opened a flower shop together. And so they’ve ended up dropping by Mira’s shop every day with a bouquet – or several. Which has led to the tattoo parlor now looking closer to a second floral shop instead of a place to get inked.
Zoey clutches the vase of sunflowers, looking around for a spot to put them. “Mira? It’s us!” she calls, finding a few square inches of space on a side table to nestle the vase. “We brought you something!”
“Let me guess, it’s flowers,” Mira says, appearing out of a back room. Her tone is dry but her gaze is fond, and she comes over to kiss both of them. “The shop has never looked so…bright.”
Zoey beams and Rumi’s heart grows warm. At least Mira seems to appreciate all the gifts.
The three of them sit down on one of the lobby couches. Rumi opens up the lunchbox that she packed, pulling out three perfectly filled bento boxes. They start to eat, Zoey chattering happily and Rumi and Mira listening in with smiles, and it feels like another perfectly lovely afternoon that has quickly become their routine.
That is, until Mira starts rubbing her face, repeatedly. The first few times, Rumi doesn’t really notice, but as the lunch goes on, Mira’s nose and eyes seem to be getting progressively more red, and itchy too, if the way she’s scrubbing at them is any indication.
Rumi gently interrupts one of Zoey’s tangents about the neighborhood cats. “You okay, Mira?” she asks softly, frowning at her. “You keep rubbing your face.”
Mira immediately drops her hand as if she’s been caught. Something guilty flickers across her expression. “Nah, I’m fine…just a random itch, y’know?”
Rumi might have believed her…if it hadn’t been that exact moment that Mira’s face scrunches up and she hastily turns away to sneeze, violently. Several more follow the first, and Zoey puts a comforting hand on her back, rubbing circles.
“Yeah that doesn’t sound okay,” Rumi says, hopping up to find a tissue box. She locates one, hands it over, and then gives Mira a steady look. “C’mon, spill. What’s up? You coming down with something?”
Mira fiddles with a tissue, not meeting their eyes. “Um…” she rubs her eyes, then sighs. “I might…have a teensy bit of an allergy? To, uh, pollen?”
Rumi and Zoey’s mouths drop open at the same time.
“Miraaa,” Zoey groans, looking around in horror at the flowers crammed in every inch of the shop. “Why didn’t you say anything?! We never would have brought all these if we knew you were allergic!”
Mira grimaces. “You guys were being so sweet! And you were so excited about it! I was okay when it was just a few, but then, well…you know.” She gestures at the shop, then sneezes again. “Ugh. I thought I could handle it.”
“You are ridiculous,” Rumi huffs, kissing the top of Mira’s pink hair, then the tip of her equally pink nose. “Or maybe we’re ridiculous, for bringing all these and not asking first. Which stops now. We’ll get these cleaned up and you should open the door to let in some fresh air. Do you have an antihistamine you can take? I might have some in my bag.”
Mira looks at her, frowning a little. “You’re not mad?”
“Of course not,” Rumi says gently, kissing her again. “I mean, you definitely should have told us, and I will certainly be asking about any other allergies you are neglecting to mention, but you were trying to be sweet.”
Zoey, who’s already collected several bouquets into her arms, calls out, “You can be honest with us, Mira! That’s what this is all about. We love you and want you to be happy!”
Mira blinks quickly, and Rumi has the sense that the sheen in her eyes isn’t from allergies right now.
“We’ve got you,” Rumi says, wrapping her arms around Mira and giving her a squeeze. “Now, go take an allergy pill and we’ll get this cleaned up.”
🤍 i decided to do a series of polytrix drabbles for the au april prompts so that i can get back in the flow of writing again! these will all be fluffy and mostly sickfics as well. hope you all like them! xo
wc: 600 // cw: none
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The door to the coffee shop feels heavier than usual as Rumi struggles to push it open. It probably has something to do with the fact that her arms feel like jello and she’s shivering under three layers of cardigans, but she won’t let it stop her. She comes by this shop every weekday morning for her coffee and she’s not going to stop now.
Her regular schedule might have more to do with her hopeless crush on two of the barastias rather than her dedication to caffeine, but that’s neither here nor there.
“Rumi-ya!” Zoey chirps as soon as Rumi enters the tiny, cozy cafe, her face breaking into one of her usual stunning grins. Something flips over in Rumi’s stomach. “Mira’s already started the dark roast for you!”
“Thank you,” Rumi tries to smile back, but her voice catches on a cough. She turns away to cough into her elbow, wincing at the rough sound of it.
When she turns back to the counter, Mira and Zoey have matching looks of concern on their faces.
“You sound like shit,” Mira says, raising an eyebrow. Zoey elbows her in the side and Mira gives a yelp. “What? She does.” She gestures vaguely in Rumi’s direction.
“Aww, are you sick?” Zoey asks, her tone much more sympathetic than Mira’s. She pouts at her, brown eyes wide and caring.
Rumi feels her cheeks grow hot, and she shifts on her feet. “I’m okay,” she tries to assure, even though her croaky voice certainly isn’t helping her case.
“Sure you are,” Mira says, deadpan. Before Rumi really knows what’s happening, Mira has rounded the counter and is guiding her toward one of the shop’s squishy armchairs with a hand on her back.
“I’ll be fine – it’s just a cold –” Rumi protests, as Mira gently pushes her to sit down.
Zoey comes over, a steaming mug in her hands. “Chamomille with extra honey,” she announces, carefully settling the drink on the table in front of Rumi. “It’ll be good for your throat.”
Rumi swallows thickly, looking between the two women at her side, feeling unusually exposed. “Why…” she trails off, clears her throat. “Why are you guys being so, um…nice?”
Mira snorts, and Zoey grins. “Rumi, did you really think I give every customer a free pastry on a daily basis?” Zoey asks, giggling a little. She pulls up a chair and sits down at Rumi’s side, and Mira sits on the other side.
“Or that I memorize everyone’s coffee order and draw little hearts in the foam?” Mira adds, her lips curving in a small smile as she looks at Rumi.
“I mean…kind of?” Rumi admits, looking between them, blushing.
“I told you we needed to be more obvious, Zo,” Mira says, smirking at Zoey. “She’s clueless.”
“Rumi, I literally wrote my number on a muffin wrapper last week! It said ‘call me xoxoxo’!” Zoey exclaims, but her voice is fond, not teasing.
Rumi ducks her head, shrugging. She really hadn’t thought much of it. The idea that Mira and Zoey could also harbor feelings for her had literally not even crossed her mind.
Mira cups her chin with a warm hand, tilting her face back up. “Well, we’ll just have to show you how much you mean to us,” Mira says, smiling softly at her, brown eyes sparkling.
“First up, tea,” Zoey adds, pushing the mug closer to Rumi. “Let us take care of you, Ru.”
Rumi still feels like she’s struggling to catch up to the turn of events, but she picks up the tea anyway and takes a sip. It’s sweet and feels heavenly on her sore throat.
“Thank you,” Rumi says quietly. Mira and Zoey smile at her, and Rumi’s heart thuds.
She supposes that her feelings weren’t quite as unrequited as she thought, after all.
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I know I'm being very particular once again, but can I maybe have someone who's basically turning into a big whiny and very dramatic baby when sick? Someone who desperately needs their Mommy/Daddy to watch and fuss over them? Especially if they're very capeable and self-sufficient when they're healthy. Someone who's basically a strong top most of their time, but a very bratty bottom when they're having so much as only a hint of a cold.
Watching h/ockey and thinking about how fights usually just involve alot of gripping of the opposing player, and also more likely than not end up with the players on the ice. Thinking about a player who's perhaps suffering a head-cold with a terribly itchy nose. It's been bugging them all game. Thinking about them getting into a tussle, the only thing they can think to do is pull the opponent closer and tighter to let out a string of wet sneezes over their shoulder. Or thinking about their movements becoming more sluggish as the tickle fully grips them until it cannot be staved off any longer. Thinking about the slight differences that come dependent upon if they're on top or bottom.
*i'm thinking about women specifically so do not tag with THOSE men. Tyvm.
Sombody who blesses every sneeze - a comprehensive list
Sombody who blesses every sneeze but they match the tone, speed and inclination to that of the sneeze.
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Somebody who blesses every sneeze but they find a different blessing for each sneeze (Bless you! Bless! Gesundheit! God bless you!)
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Sombody who blesses every sneeze but the sneezer is sneezing so fast that they stumble over their words as they try to keep up with them
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Somebody who blesses every sneeze but they loose count and end up saying it ten extra times just to make sure that they blesses every one of them
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Somebody who blesses every sneeze and each one comes with an add on (eg. head nod, confering touches, words of encouragement, gentle words, genrel worried humming)
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Thats all I have for now but I might edit it later, please tell me any that you have I want more
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Thinking about A being dragged to some fancy party, by their partner B, one that they absolutely do not want to attend. Especially not when they can clearly feel their body succumbing to what will undoubtedly be a treacherous head cold. But A can't possibly handle being emotionally vulnerable enough to admit this to B, or perhaps they're just too stubborn--if they ignore it long enough it'll go away... right?
So in the end they relent and allow themselves to be dragged along.
When they arrive the air is still thick between the two of them, the car ride filled only with the sound of music from the radio, A managing to get away with swiping incessant at their nose to keep from sniffling and alerting B that anything is off.
As they walk in together, tension still heavy, A considers coming clean, although what would be the point when they're already at the party now... it'll probably just make B even more annoyed. Or worse, what if B doesn't believe them?
A is doing their best to play the role of the supportive partner; at first they stick by B side, but when an hour goes by and it feels like their shoulders are too heavy to hold up and they can feel the tickle building in their throat and sinuses, they decided to break away.
The try and blend in with the crowd until they can't take anymore sniffling and stifling of sneezes--which has their sinuses throbbing--and the soft little choked off coughs aren't doing them much good.
A rushing off to the bathroom, thinking they've gone unnoticed, but B has been eyeing them all night, A has just been too preoccupied with their dwindling condition to notice.
At first it was because B thought A was just being a brat, but it didn't take long to notice the patterns.
The way A gets handsy with their irritated nose and swipes at it with the sleeve of their fancy suit, the fact that their glass of alcohol has barely been touched, and at one point was replaced by cocktail napkins. Not to mention the way even stifled their sneezes are too powerful to go unnoticed; the way their head bobs and jolts, the way their shoulders hike up and fall dramatically, and the way the swell of their chest visibly relaxes.
B excuses themself, giving A a moment before following in their tracks into the bathroom.
They're only a couple steps behind but when they find A in the bathroom they're a mess of breathy gasps that borderline desperate panting, their nose already leaking down to their cupids bow, and they've discarded the jacket to their suit on the counter, their sleeves rolled up. They hadn't made their way to get tissue, instead they're poised in front of the mirror, hands--shaking with the effort of holding it all back--at the ready.
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