A SF blog for the ages

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.

forced caretaking as a trope i think is like cocaine to people who know they need to be taken care of but have mental blocks in the way like yeah please do gently force me into a state of vulnerability so my body learns it is a safe thing to feel around you

someone sneezing through an explanation of what’s making them sneeze — and only managing to get 1-2 words out at a time 🥵

When they're all dried off from being caught in the rain but their nose just won't stop dripping 😪

A Victorian man writing at his table feeling a tickle in nose nose that won’t go away, so he just used the feather pen he’s writing with to tickle it

does anyone else feel like they have specific writing weaknesses :')

everything in life just comes back to hot nerds sneezing

there’s something so inexplicably hot to me about a very well covered sneeze into the crook of the arm. it’s nothing special, it’s how you’re supposed to sneeze, but the dedication to proper etiquette??? the extra effort to really make sure they’re not spreading their cold??? yeah 🥺

LOVE people who fan their face with their hands when they're about to sneeze. No idea what that's doing but I love the desperation of it all 🩷

I love the concept of sneezing into the thing that is causing you to sneeze. You're tickling your nose with a feather duster AND you use the dusty feathers to sneeze into because they're all right in front of your nose???? Same thing with a bouquet of flowers or something fluffy that would tickle your nose like a big pile of fur or feathers. Perhaps an article of clothing with far too much perfume on it.. ouuhh. The way you'd just sneeze and sneeze and sneeze from this 😵‍💫🩷

Currently dreaming about a person slowly coming down with a nasty cold. Listening to their usual, polite little stifles get gradually wetter and less controllable before they inevitably pitch forward into an uncontrollable, unexpectedly messy explosion. Their poor fingers, thinking they were just there to contain another harmless (although quite powerful) stifle, finding themselves covered in spray. The desperate plucking of tissues out of a box and the first helpless, incredibly needed noseblow that completely fills them, confirming to them and everyone else in the room, that they have, indeed, caught a cold.

Sickbed love confession featuring caretaker who has so thoroughly convinced themself that they’re unlovable that their immediate assumption is that whumpee’s fever must be higher than they thought. They’re talking nonsense.

A shy and nerdy botanist with debilitating hay fever working in a greenhouse. Gardening gloves in one pocket, a pollen-coated handkerchief in the other…