Hello! Welcome to a very niche corner of the internet. You can call me Ghost, or I will also happily answer to Ouro. I'm not picky about pronouns, but please note that she/her pronouns are reserved for close friends.
On this blog you will find primarily sneeze fetish (yes you read that correctly, I'm so sorry) and sickfic content, but also a fair amount of whump and a lot of hurt/comfort. I lean more towards colds/illness than allergies, but by no means exclusively. Panszual, particularly as a reader, but I tend to write almost exclusively M and NB snz content. (This is a fact I genuinely lament, but the horn wants what it wants and it wants to objectify men.)
DMs and askbox are always open, but:
- I am nearly 40 years old, please behave accordingly and make smart, safe choices if you are u18
- Ideally please be 25+ to DM me
- I am not interested in snexting with strangers of any age
A masterlist of my writing can be found here — Mostly OC, but a few fandom things more recently.
Tentatively also throwing out some fandom roleplaying/co-writing interests under the cut — will update as is relevant.
(I'm down to write any of these characters in either a snzing or caretaking role and for nearly any snz cause. Generally speaking the character I've listed as my primary interest is the character I'm most interested in/comfortable writing, but I'm certainly open to swapping that around. DM me if you want to maybe throw some words together!)
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Primary character of interest: Rupert Giles
Pairings of interest:
- Jenny Calendar
- Ethan Rayne
- Olivia [surname not found?]
- I am coming around to Wesley Wyndam-Price, mostly as a platonic pairing, but feel free to petition for romance
- open to platonic dynamics with the Scoobies, but I will not pair him romantically with any of them
Cabin Pressure
Character of interest: Hercules the Bercules Shipwright
Pairings:
- Carolyn
- Douglas
- Platonically with anyone else
Tolkien legendarium
Character of interest: currently Maedhros, but honestly shoot your shot, literally everyone is a babe.
Pairing: Romantically Fingon (but feel free to petition for someone else), platonically pretty much anyone that makes sense.
The Invisibles (2008 BBC miniseries)
Character of interest: Maurice Riley
Romantically I'm really only down to pair him with Barbara, but I'm also extremely down for platonic shenanigans with Syd and/or Hedley, maybe even more interested in that actually.
If there's something else you think I might be interested in certainly feel free to ask!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Found this in my notes app when I was looking for something else Dash related and figured I'd post it here for WIP Wednesday. No snz, but lots of miserable Dash getting attacked from all sides — by a heatwave, by a summer cold, by a concerned and annoyingly perceptive friend.
Minor cw for reference to blood as part of a crime scene.
. . .
"Drink, you look like hell."
Dash barely has time to turn his head, starting slightly out of what is maybe more of a dazed fugue state than intense concentration, if he's entirely honest with himself, before a bottle of neon yellow Gatorade is thrust into his hands. He almost drops it, partly because he isn't expecting it, partly because it's sweating even more than he is.
Lauren's hand is on his forehead before he's even got the cap off.
"You're burning up."
He tries to dodge out from under her touch, but he's sluggish and clumsy and it's probably too late anyway.
"It's hot," He tries pointing out instead. And God it fucking is, it's been creeping steadily into the ninties all week with humidity pushing one hundred percent more often than not.
He's beginning to forget what it's like to not be damply sticky. Standing now in the close, sweltering oven an alley, his shirt clinging to him like a second skin, he can feel the weight of the air pressing on him. Sweat is tracing ticklish paths down the back of his neck, stinging at the corners of his eyes, gritty and aching from the heat, from mounting congestion that he's trying to ignore.
Lauren levels an unimpressed stare at him.
"No, Dash, you're burning up. Like cliche levels of 'I could fry an egg on your face' burning up. Why are you here?"
Mutely Dash gestures behind him at the torn, blood-stained blazer and firework splatter of an exploded dye pack coloring the pavement and watches Lauren roll her eyes so hard it's a wonder she doesn't strain some kind of ocular ligament.
Found this in my notes app when I was looking for something else Dash related and figured I'd post it here for WIP Wednesday. No snz, but lots of miserable Dash getting attacked from all sides — by a heatwave, by a summer cold, by a concerned and annoyingly perceptive friend.
Minor cw for reference to blood as part of a crime scene.
. . .
"Drink, you look like hell."
Dash barely has time to turn his head, starting slightly out of what is maybe more of a dazed fugue state than intense concentration, if he's entirely honest with himself, before a bottle of neon yellow Gatorade is thrust into his hands. He almost drops it, partly because he isn't expecting it, partly because it's sweating even more than he is.
Lauren's hand is on his forehead before he's even got the cap off.
"You're burning up."
He tries to dodge out from under her touch, but he's sluggish and clumsy and it's probably too late anyway.
"It's hot," He tries pointing out instead. And God it fucking is, it's been creeping steadily into the ninties all week with humidity pushing one hundred percent more often than not.
He's beginning to forget what it's like to not be damply sticky. Standing now in the close, sweltering oven an alley, his shirt clinging to him like a second skin, he can feel the weight of the air pressing on him. Sweat is tracing ticklish paths down the back of his neck, stinging at the corners of his eyes, gritty and aching from the heat, from mounting congestion that he's trying to ignore.
Lauren levels an unimpressed stare at him.
"No, Dash, you're burning up. Like cliche levels of 'I could fry an egg on your face' burning up. Why are you here?"
Mutely Dash gestures behind him at the torn, blood-stained blazer and firework splatter of an exploded dye pack coloring the pavement and watches Lauren roll her eyes so hard it's a wonder she doesn't strain some kind of ocular ligament.
Found this in my notes app when I was looking for something else Dash related and figured I'd post it here for WIP Wednesday. No snz, but lots of miserable Dash getting attacked from all sides — by a heatwave, by a summer cold, by a concerned and annoyingly perceptive friend.
Minor cw for reference to blood as part of a crime scene.
. . .
"Drink, you look like hell."
Dash barely has time to turn his head, starting slightly out of what is maybe more of a dazed fugue state than intense concentration, if he's entirely honest with himself, before a bottle of neon yellow Gatorade is thrust into his hands. He almost drops it, partly because he isn't expecting it, partly because it's sweating even more than he is.
Lauren's hand is on his forehead before he's even got the cap off.
"You're burning up."
He tries to dodge out from under her touch, but he's sluggish and clumsy and it's probably too late anyway.
"It's hot," He tries pointing out instead. And God it fucking is, it's been creeping steadily into the ninties all week with humidity pushing one hundred percent more often than not.
He's beginning to forget what it's like to not be damply sticky. Standing now in the close, sweltering oven an alley, his shirt clinging to him like a second skin, he can feel the weight of the air pressing on him. Sweat is tracing ticklish paths down the back of his neck, stinging at the corners of his eyes, gritty and aching from the heat, from mounting congestion that he's trying to ignore.
Lauren levels an unimpressed stare at him.
"No, Dash, you're burning up. Like cliche levels of 'I could fry an egg on your face' burning up. Why are you here?"
Mutely Dash gestures behind him at the torn, blood-stained blazer and firework splatter of an exploded dye pack coloring the pavement and watches Lauren roll her eyes so hard it's a wonder she doesn't strain some kind of ocular ligament.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Thank you for the ask and for coming up with the questions! I answered 🐑 already here , but for the other two:
💓 - What is your favorite thing about this community?
How quickly I felt welcomed when I first joined, and how welcome and supported I’ve continued to feel. I was really nervous to join the snzkink community on tumblr because a lot of what had led me to leave the forum years ago was how exclusive and cliqueish and antagonistic it felt, how somehow simultaneously shark infested and yet also puritanical, and it was such a breath of fresh air to find the community here (or at least the part I’ve ended up in) to be so friendly and accepting and laid back.
👃🏼 - What would you like to do with your blorbo's nose? (Break it? Tickle it with a feather? Wipe it with tissues? The possibilities are endless!)
There I something very appealing about a physical injury to a nose, and it’s something I haven’t utilized much (not at all in any published work). I would like to play with that at some point I think. Dash’s nose has canonically been broken once, and a narrative version of that does exist in his ever evolving timeline document, but I don’t think I’ve ever shared it here. Maybe I will someday.
🤩 - Is there any symptom/torture tactic/snz trigger that you haven't portrayed or seen yet that you'd like to try?
I’ve been thinking a lot about swollen glands/lymph nodes as a peripheral symptom of respiratory illness a lot recently and while that’s not a new fixation for me I don’t think I’ve ever actually incorporated into into a story before and I’d like to.
🐑 - What scenario are you currently thinking about before bed?
Perhaps quite basic bitch of me, but the combination of the early stages of a headcold and getting caught in the rain.
Not enough pointing out characters’ hair being scruffed-up when they’re sick. Unbrushed hair from the morning when they got up and didn’t have the energy to mess with it, hair that’s gotten messy from their attempts to nap or lay down for a little bit. Hair that’s messier than usual just because they don’t have it in them to fuss with it during the day. More scruffy hair from sick characters nowewwwwwwwwwww
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Not be all Debby Downer coming onto your feeds looking for pity or whatever, but it's my birthday and I'm just so fucking sad and it's not fair. Which I realize is a thoroughly juvenile thing to say, but also, I mean, it's NOT fair to spend the kick off of the last year of my thirties grieving yet another devastating loss.
Fuck this god damn whole fucking world. My Nana's dead, my mom's dead, my favorite professor from college is dead, my favorite actor is dead, and now my fucking dog is dead. MY FUCKING DOG IS DEAD. Because he's a fucking idiot who likes to chase cars and my dad is shitty about tying him when he takes him to work with him and I don't know how to not be angry at him for that right now even though it's not really his fault exactly.
Fuck this god damn whole fucking world. My Nana's dead, my mom's dead, my favorite professor from college is dead, my favorite actor is dead, and now my fucking dog is dead. MY FUCKING DOG IS DEAD. Because he's a fucking idiot who likes to chase cars and my dad is shitty about tying him when he takes him to work with him and I don't know how to not be angry at him for that right now even though it's not really his fault exactly.
It feels like a particular type of heresy to be reblogging snzblr posts while sitting in the allergist's office 😅 Half expecting to be smote from the heavens or something.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
