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Autumn Snz Prompt Challenge October (all female, various fandoms and original)


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I'm ATTEMPTING to do this through October.  :lol: We'll see if I'll keep with it every day, especially with the other projects I'm working on, but I'll try to.

I'm cross-posting from my tumblr. It'll be a mix of fandom and original, but all will be female, because that's what I like. ^_^ 


October 1st: Sniffles over coffee 

(Fandom: The 4400.)


Tom had decided not to say anything. Not a word.


No. He was not going to say anything.


He shot Diana a glare over the coffee. She didn’t notice, she was busy reading through the case file that Ryland had given her. She took a sip of her own coffee, and then she sniffled again.

Tom couldn’t keep quiet any longer, so he said, sounding quite annoyed even to his own ears:  

“Are you okay?!”

Diana looked up, a surprised expression on her face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“Because you’ve been sniffling constantly since you came in.”

“No, I haven’t.”

She sniffled again, seemingly oblivious to it herself.

“Really? Then what was that?”

She stared back at him, now painfully aware of how runny her nose felt, but refusing to admit it.

“It’s called breathing, Tom. I kinda have to do it to stay alive… sniff.”

Tom sighed and pushed the tissue box over on her side of the desk.

“You’re coming down with a cold,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

“After lunch you’re gonna start sneezing. And tomorrow you’ll drag yourself in here with a full-blown cold and a ‘woe is me’-attitude.”

“Really? I’m surprised, suddenly you have the same ability as Maia… sniffff… predicting the future.”

“Yeah, how is Maia by the way, you said she was home from school with a cold yesterday, right?” he said pointedly.


“There we go,” he said. “Bit sooner than I thought, but still. Bless you.”

He nudged the tissue box even closer.

Now will you blow your nose, or do I have to listen to that sniffling all day?”

Diana smirked.

“You’re so sensitive.”

He smiled and nodded.

“Yes. Humour me?”

She chuckled.

“Fine. But I’m not getting sick.”

“Yeah, well…” Tom grinned. “We’ll see about that tomorrow.”


 October 2nd: Seasonal candle allergy

 (Fandom: Mental)

Nora was in her office, doing paperwork and enjoying the scent of the candle burning on her desk. It was labelled “fall scent”, a pleasant cinnamon-y fragrance that reminded her of fallen leaves, but in a cooler place than L.A. Vermont, perhaps. She smiled to herself, and was still smiling when there was a knock on the door, followed by Veronica entering.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Nora said. “Please tell me there’s not a zombie uprising out there.”

Veronica laughed and sat down in the visitor’s chair.

“Nothing so dramatic.” She sniffled and rubbed her nose. “The scariest part out there… sniff… is Jack.”

Nora sighed.

“What now?”

“Planning H-Halloween decorahhh… decorating. Oh God, hold on…” she turned to the side and got her hands up to her face. “AhhESSSH! HahESSSHH! HehhISSSHH!”

“Bless you.” Nora said. “What do you mean?”

“Carving pumpkins. I’m not… ehhhISSSHHHoo! My God!” She rubbed her nose. “I’m not very comfortable with him putting sharp objects in the hands of s-some… hehh… AESSHHH! Of some of the patients. Sniff…. hehhhIISSSHEW! Ugh, what the hell…?”

“Bless you! Are you coming down with something?”

“No. I was fine until…” her watery eyes narrowed. “That candle. Which scent is it?”

“It just says ‘fall scent’.”

“Yeah, I tried that last year, I’m super allergic to it,” Veronica said, quickly getting up to leave. “Could you just talk to Jack about it? There’s other Halloween décor we can make ourselves on the open clinic… ahhhESSSHH! HaESSSHH! EhhhISSSHEW!”

“Got it, I’ll talk to him. Get out, before you sneeze yourself to death,” Nora said. Veronica didn’t need to be told twice, she slipped out the door with a hand cupped over her itchy nose.

Nora sighed, gathering strength for the discussion ahead. Then she blew out the candle and left.


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I love these! Is there a prompt list you’re following, or is it just what comes to mind each day?

Best of luck sticking to it (my Inktober has already started off on the wrong foot, so I know how hard it can be😅)! Always a treat to read more of your work 💛

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13 hours ago, Anonymace said:

I love these! Is there a prompt list you’re following, or is it just what comes to mind each day?

Best of luck sticking to it (my Inktober has already started off on the wrong foot, so I know how hard it can be😅)! Always a treat to read more of your work 💛

Thank you! It's a prompt list posted on tumblr, lots of fun ones. Bit extra challenging for me since most are aimed towards illness and I'm more of an allergy girl (colds have to be very character/person-specific to really do it for me fetish-wise), but it's fun to play. ^_^ 

Hahaha, yeah, I have several drabble threads already and none are finished, and several loose ended stories as well. Ugh. Oh well, it's supposed to be fun, that's the important part! Good luck with Inktober too! :yay:  Thank you so much!! 


October 3rd: Sick after midterms


Professor Graham reached for the tissues on her desk but didn’t quite have enough time; a sudden sneeze exploded out of her and sprayed the papers she was in the middle of grading.


True, she had gotten this cold from her students, no doubt about that, but she didn’t think it was very nice to deliver the viruses right back to them when she handed the tests back.


The next sneeze was properly caught in the Kleenex, and she dabbed at her nostrils, already red and chapped as if she’d dragged this cold around for weeks instead of two days. She was pretty sure she was running a low-grade fever as well, and she was going to finish grading the tests for this class and then she was going to bed. It wasn’t that late, but she was shivering and the warm blankets in her bed called out for her. She couldn’t resist their siren song much longer.

She took another tissue and put it over her mouth and nose, sneezing into it several times and then blew her nose.

No. She was done for tonight, she could do the rest tomorrow. She needed sleep.

And more tissues.


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5 hours ago, Ghost_no5 said:

but she didn’t think it was very nice to deliver the viruses right back to them

Dang, why is she so considerate? :rolleyes: :wink2:

Ok, but seriously, it's a great idea to start into fall with such an interesting challenge and you've done great so far.

Looking forward to the next prompts ^_^

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59 minutes ago, Spookylene said:

Dang, why is she so considerate? :rolleyes: :wink2:

Raised to be a lady, perhaps? :P 

59 minutes ago, Spookylene said:

Ok, but seriously, it's a great idea to start into fall with such an interesting challenge and you've done great so far.

Looking forward to the next prompts ^_^

Thank you! We shall see how long the muse wants to play along. :yay: 


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Wooohooo, I'm with it still on day 4!! :lol: 


October 4th : Flu season


Carmen hated flying during flu season. She either caught colds on the plane, or – as in this case – she was the one with the cold. A drippy, sneezy cold that she did everything she could to keep to herself, but the young woman seated next to her was probably going to get her own sample of Carmen’s cold within a few days.

Her nose tickled constantly, and sometimes she would start sneezing in fits that seemed to go on forever.

“Tssh! Tsschh! HihTSSHHoo!”

She took a shaky breath and immediately snapped forward into the wad of tissues in her hands again.

“TSSHOO! Hih-eeSSHHoo! HAH-tsshh! Tssschoo!”

She was helpless against this sneezing fit, and she could feel the disapproving glares of passengers around her.

Please stop, she quietly begged her nose, but the sneezes just kept coming, a barrage of tickly torture. Once she was able to rein in her out-of-control nose and discreetly look around, she saw her seatmate leaning as far in the other direction as possible.

“I’b really sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay,” the other woman said. She sounded like she only said it to be polite.

Carmen couldn’t think more of it; she had to sneeze again.


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It's the 5th where I am! :P And since I'll be busy I have no idea when I'll be able to post, so I'll do that right away.


October 5th : Chilly air

(Fandom: The 4400.)


Tom hadn’t even realised that Diana was trailing behind; he had even kept talking all the way until he had almost reached the parked car, when he realised she wasn’t responding. He turned around to see what was going on, and found her several yards away, standing still, with a blank look on her face.

He sighed. A white cloud of his breath came out; the air was chilly today.

“You gonna stand there all day? Come on! You’re gonna freeze.”

She took a couple of dramatic gasping breaths and then she sneezed, an equally dramatic-sounding outburst that was completely uncovered. It didn’t matter because she was nowhere near anyone either way, but Tom was fascinated by the whole production.

“I said freeze, not sneeze, but sure…”

“I always sneeze when I go from warm to chilly air like that,” Diana brushed him off. “And I don’t want to walk and sneeze at the same time because I always end up tripping myself.”

Tom shook his head, but there was a crooked smile on his lips.

“You’re so weird.”

She gave him a bright, genuine smile.  

“Thank you.”

“I’m not sure I meant it as a compliment.”

“Oh I’ll take what I can get,” Diana replied in a light tone and walked past him, heading towards the car, then stopped halfway and turned around. “Are you coming, or are you just gonna stand there all day?”

Tom shook his head, laughed to himself, and hurried to catch up with her.


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October 6th : Warm fireplace



It’s nice, warm and comfy, and the crackling from the fireplace is very soothing. The snowstorm is howling outside, but in here, everything is calm and comfortable. I’ve almost fallen asleep on the couch when my girlfriend, who’s been leaning against me, halfway asleep herself, suddenly sneezes.


I startle a little, not because it was very loud, but unexpected. She giggles sheepishly and rubs her nose.

“Sorry, I’ve been wrestling with that one for several minutes.”

“Bless you,” I mumble.

Hehhh… ehhh… oh I have to sneeze again… hehhISSSHHoo!”

I’ve barely opened my mouth to bless her again, when she snaps forward with a third and a fourth sneeze, back-to-back and desperately itchy-sounding.

“Holy shit baby, what’s going on?”

She sits up straight, sniffling thickly.

“Fuck. I think I’m getting sick. I wondered why I’ve been feeling so tired all day, and now my nose… ehhhISSSHHH! Won’t stop tickling. Ugh.”

She begins a clearly uncomfortable attempt at getting out of this much too comfy couch, and I gently push her back and get up myself.

“I need tissues,” she says.

“I’ll get them. I’ll make us some tea too. Sugar or honey?”

“Honey.” She clears her throat. Now that I think of it, there’s been a slight rasp in her voice all day, but not so much it’s been very noticeable. Well, that’s about to change. “Thank you.”

“Back in a flash,” I say, and she smiles. Before I’ve even turned my back to her, the look on her face changes into that tickly, hazy pre-sneeze look again.

Yeah, she’s definitely getting sick. She’s pretty sneezy on average, but she doesn’t usually sneeze this much in such short period of time, not unless it’s pollen season.  


“Bless you!” I call over my shoulder and she sighs.

“Thank you.”


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Oh, these are all so wonderful!  I really want to imagine myself in that last one with the fireplace.  I can't think of anything more lovely than freezing cold outside, cozy and warm inside, and a partner who needs my attention.  Mmmmmm.

Also the phrase "getting sick" sends me into freaking orbit.  Man, those two words.  Together.  So simple, yet they say so much.

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22 hours ago, SpookyPhlox said:

Oh, these are all so wonderful!  I really want to imagine myself in that last one with the fireplace.  I can't think of anything more lovely than freezing cold outside, cozy and warm inside, and a partner who needs my attention.  Mmmmmm.

Also the phrase "getting sick" sends me into freaking orbit.  Man, those two words.  Together.  So simple, yet they say so much.

Thank you so much! :heart:  

Also... *makes notes to use in a certain other fic* :shifty: 


October 7th: Tender loathing care

(Fandom: Pine Gap. Sort of a sequel to this fic

but also reads as a standalone. ^_^  And BOY am I glad I decided to write ahead and have a few prompts filled already, because this booster jab reaction is really kicking my ass! 🤒 🤕



 “You don’t have to stay,” Kath said as she started making her way towards the door. It had been a long night, they had eventually managed to save the world from nuclear war, and she could finally get home and suffer through her miserable flu.

“Nice try. I’m keeping an eye on you at least until tomorrow. You’re too sick to be left alone,” Jacob said.

“Did you already forget that part about how you hate me, you know, this mutual thing we have going on?” she said, but her voice cracked several times through the sentence and once she had forced her way through it, she doubled over with a chesty, rattling coughing fit.

“Oh, I do hate you, Kathleen, I just don’t want you to die.” Jacob put an arm around his ex-wife’s waist and began helping her inside. Kath, too exhausted and sick to keep up the resistance, allowed him to help her, but reluctantly.

Once inside, she shook his arm off her and went straight for the couch, where blankets from her afternoon nap/blackout were still crumpled up. Bruce was fast asleep on them, thankfully, so they were blissfully warm when she pulled them over her. Almost as if he had deliberately done it to keep them warm for her, he simply moved aside and let her find a comfortable position before curling up beside her, purring loudly.

“Hey Brucie,” Jacob said, bending down to scratch Bruce under a furry chin.

“Don’t pet him like that,” Kath snapped. “He doesn’t like it.”

“Sure he does.”

“He’ll bite you.”

“He’s my cat, I know what he likes, right Brucie?” Jacob said.

“He’s not your cat, the judge… uhhhERRSSSHHooo! Ugh, God..”

“Yeah yeah, the judge gave him to you after our divorce, so what? He misses me, he wouldn’t bite…”

At that moment, Bruce decided enough was enough, and bit Jacob. Not very hard, but enough to tell him he was perfectly happy staying with Kath.

Ow! Bloody hell..!”

“Told you.”

“Smug now, ay?” Jacob said, but when he looked at Kath, he almost regretted his tone. “Ah fuck, I’ll make you some soup.”

“You cook now?”

“Do you want me to leave, or what?!”

“Yes.” Her stoic glare melted away. “No. Sorry. Soup would be nice.”

“Some fucking gratitude would be nice, too,” Jacob grunted and shuffled out to the kitchen, but he was more concerned than he wanted Kath to know. She was riding high on fever suppressants right now, but once they stopped working, she would be a complete and utter delirious mess. This flu was really beating her up.

From the couch, Kath let loose with a really painful-sounding, barking cough that had Jacob grimacing. She wrapped up the coughing fit with a sneeze.


Jacob shook his head. Her throat must be insanely raw at this point. How she had any voice left at all was beyond him.  

Poor love.

He froze. No. He did not just think that.

Poor bitch.

That’s better.


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17 hours ago, Dgrayman said:

These are all perfectly crafted!

Thank you so much! ^_^ 


October 8th: Bonfire smoke


The smoke from the nearby bonfire hangs heavy in the crisp autumn air. It doesn’t bother me, but my girlfriend is sniffling and rubbing her nose.

The tip of her nose was already pink from the cold, and with the continuous rubbing, the rest of her nose has soon reached a similar, glaring cherry shade.  

I hum the tune to ‘Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer’ and she lowers her hand and glares at me.

“But it tickles!” she says in a tone that sounds slightly more complaining than just stating a fact.

“I didn’t say anything.” I give her my most innocent gaze.

“You didn’t have to,” she says and sniffles wetly. “You really think my nose is that red?”

“Oh silly, come here,” I say and cup her face in my gloved hands. “Yes, your nose is red. It’s cold. You’re rubbing it constantly. And that smoke is getting right up there causing all kinds of trouble.”

She sniffles.

“But you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Red nose or not.”

I place a gently kiss on the tip and she immediately rolls her eyes.

“Oh you just had to, d-didn’t… hehh… y-you…?”

Her breath hitches desperately and I pull her close, muffling the small fit of sneezes into the front of my warm jacket.

I hug her and whisper;

“Of course I did. Your sneezes are even more adorable than your nose.”

She untangles herself from my embrace, grinning.

“You and that weird kink of yours.”

I return the grin.

“Yes. Me and that weird kink of mine.”

“You owe me.”

Yep. I owe her playtime with her weird kink. Which is about as weird and simultaneously completely harmless as mine, while not being one bit related.

We may be an odd fit... but we have fun with it.


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Yeah it's the 9th where I am, so I'm gonna post this one already because I can't contain myself. :lol: 


October 9th: Sweaters


The knitting needles click rhythmically, the sound now and then punctuated by a sniffle. I have a book on my lap, pretending to read, but I’ve been looking at her more than I’ve looked at the pages for quite a while. Her slender fingers working that fuzzy yarn and those needles with a graceful efficiency that is a pleasure to behold. Also, I like that whole ‘hot librarian’ look she gets when she wears her reading glasses. She thinks I’m just teasing her when I say that, making gentle fun of the fact that she can’t see for shit up close and hence makes the dumbest ‘typos’ in text messages and Twitter posts when she’s too lazy to get her glasses. The truth is, I really do think she’s hot in those glasses. Hot librarian maybe, or hot professor, or hot-other distinguished academic profession.

She is neither. But she could easily pass for it with them on.

Her nostrils quiver as she sniffles again, even wetter this time. Her nose is starting to get a pinkish tint, and her eyes water; I can tell all the way from here based on the way her mascara is smudging.

I think it’s the yarn causing this slowly unfolding allergic reaction. She was so excited about it, how it would be so nice to work with, but it’s some kind of alpaca or something like that, and ever since she told me I’ve wondered what her allergies would have to say about it.

“How’s the book?” she asks without looking up from the knitting.

“Oh, uh, great.”

“Must be a lot happening on that page, since you haven’t turned page in what, twenty minutes?” Her voice is amused. A little bit congested, too. She wasn’t congested earlier.

“Lots happening,” I agree, but I keep looking at her instead. Her elegantly shaped nostrils flare a little, and her eyebrows begin to pull together in that tell-tale sneezy expression. She pauses what she’s doing, turns her head away from the knitting, and sneezes openly, aiming the spray over the side of her chair’s armrest.


“Bless you.”

“…snnrrrfff! Thank you. I don’t know why I’m so sniffly all of a sudden.”

Seriously. For someone so smart, she can be so dumb sometimes.

She keeps working, keeps sniffling, and I keep watching. A couple of minutes later she calls me over.

“Can you get this over your head? Snrrfff…”

“Oh you’re knitting a collar for me, how sweet,” I tease her and she has put the knitting down on her lap to rub her nose. There’s wetness glistening just inside her irritated red nostrils and she gets some of that wetness on her hand.

“I should, so I can keep you on a leash,” she says, laughing softly and wipes her hand on her sweater. That sweater is another one of her projects, it’s soft as can be but synthetic. No natural allergen there. “But no, it’s a sweater. Like this…” she gestures to the one she’s wearing. The one she just wiped her hand on. “Same style. But different yarn. You’re gonna love wearing this.”

I usually hate wearing knitted things, because most knitted things I’ve worn are wool, and that itches. I’m not allergic, it’s not giving me a rash or anything, I just hate the feeling.

I try pulling the collar over my head and it works fine.

“I love that colour on you,” she says. “It matches your eyes.”

She playfully tugs at the yarn, pulling my head towards her.

“Could work as a collar though.”

I lean forward and give her a quick kiss.

“Let me loose or I’ll unravel your work,” I whisper, taking that thread that can undo the whole thing and dangle it in front of her.

“Your loss,” she says lightly and rubs her nose again. “NNKTThh! Snrrrfff! Jesus.”

“Bless you. Don’t stifle.” I’m getting out of the collar and give it back to her. She holds it up in front of her, gives a curt nod as if approving of her job so far, and goes back to it. By now, from being stretched and pulled, the sweater-project has released lots of tiny fuzzy particles in the air, and her sniffling becomes more frequent, wetter, more itchy-sounding. She puts it down on her lap to rub her nose several times, but the itch is no longer allowing itself to be controlled.

Her breath begins to hitch, and she turns away from the knitting and sneezes, still uncovered, still wetly, but with an urgency and force that’s only getting worse.

Heh-ISSSSHHHEW! Ugh… I’m gonna get whiplash turning to the s-side like this… ahhhISSSHHH!”

“Just sneeze straight ahead,” I suggest. She looks at me over her glasses as if I’m a complete moron. “What? You know I don’t mind your sneezing…” I wiggle my eyebrows in a deliberately non-sexy way and she laughs, nodding.

“Yeah, I know, you’re weird like that. snnrrrfff…”

“I’m kinky like that,” I correct her, and she grins.

“Yeah, true, okay, let’s go with kinky.”

“… and either way, I assume it’s washable. So we’ll just wash it before I wear it.”

She shrugs.

“If you say so.”

“I do. I also say you’re allergic to that yarn.”

“You are probably right about that.”

“You want an antihistamine?”

She gives me that mischievous grin that makes me melt into a puddle every time.

“You’ve clearly been more entertained by my allergies than by your book this whole time, so why change that? Enjoy the show.”  

Next sneeze – or fit of them, rather – she just unleashes all over the sweater-to-be. Itchy, desperate, juicy sneezes, a flow of her lovely allergies all over it.

I think she’s right. I think I’m gonna love wearing that sweater.


Edited by Ghost_no5
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October 10th Herbal tea

(Fandom: Pine Gap. And yeeeaaahhh I'm posting early, because I'm still up anyway. :lol: )


Kath’s throat was so sore she could barely swallow. Very carefully sipping a cup of hot herbal tea, she was trying to regain her lost voice enough to get through the work day.

So far, it didn’t do fuck-all. Oh, yes, it did one thing, it loosened up the thick congestion that all but bricked up her nasal passages and efficiently blocked all airflow. Had she been at home, this would have been a great thing. At work, not so much, because when the congestion loosened, her nose started to run. And when her nose was running, the sneezing wasn’t far behind.

She wiped her nose with a tissue. It was just a very light touch, but it was enough to set off a tickle that she knew would result in a sneeze. To help it along, she turned her chair a little and looked into the bright sunlight shining in through her office window.


She sneezed violently, not bothering to cover, and winced in pain as the sneeze tore at her impossibly sore throat.

Oh for fuck’s sake, she thought as the tickle returned for a second round, but there was nothing she could do about it; the next sneeze was every bit as violent and painful as the first.

Now tears of pain streamed down her face, and she reached for the tissue again, giving her nose a strong, determined blow, hoping that would be enough to give her some reprieve.

Instead, this further aggravation made her need to sneeze again, and she did, helpless against her virus-invaded body’s needs, spraying another misty cloud of potential contagion into the air.

She looked at the tea, the innocent trigger of this painful outburst, and sighed. At this point, her throat was so raw that there was no way she could swallow even this soothing drink.

She poured it out into one of the flower pots, then sat there for a minute, debating with herself. Her throat was so fucking sore she couldn’t even think about anything else, and she was pretty sure she was running a fever to add to it. Eventually she stood up and grabbed her purse. Slinging it over her shoulder, she left her office, the door locking behind her. She walked down the corridor, knocked on Ethan’s door, which was slightly ajar. He looked up from a pile of paper on his desk.

“I’m going home,” she mouthed, her voice having completely bailed on her. “Too fucking sick.”

She left before Ethan even had time to respond; a little bit embarrassed about cutting and running over a cold, but mostly relieved to be out of there. Jacob was coming in later today and she really didn’t need his mockery on top of her misery.


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6 hours ago, Purplelily said:

Ahhh all of these are so perfect! 

Thank you so much!! :heart:  


October 11th Dusty libraries

(Original. ) And yes I’m doing this crap again where I post just past midnight where I am, :lol:  



I’ve always loved libraries. Not only for the books and the knowledge, but for the silence, the smell, the atmosphere. My girlfriend loves libraries too. Though it’s mostly about the knowledge for her. She loves learning new things, and she always has a ton of new projects that she needs to read up on.

Frankly, she can be exhausting to live with at times. I love her dearly, but it’s true. This time she’s dragged me (okay, libraries, I go with her to willingly) to the library to look for information about a very specific and largely forgotten type of painting technique – her latest obsession – and while she’s rummaging through books that hasn’t been disturbed in decades, I’ve found a nice reading spot and a collection of short horror stories.


A sudden sneeze cuts through the silence, creating a bit of echo inside this big space. And yeah, I recognise that sneeze. I also know it very rarely comes alone.

“NTSSschhoo! hehhISSSHH!”

There we go.

My beloved emerges from the dusty back rooms with a couple of books. Her eyes are red and watery, and her nose is already getting pink. She’s so allergic to dust it’s not even funny.

“Whoa, so dusty over there,” she whispers.

“So I heard.” I wink at her, and she sticks her tongue out in response, like the very serious and mature grownup that she is. She slides down onto one of the chairs and opens the first book, sniffling wetly.

“Fuck,” she mumbles, looking around at the other visitors. “I have to sneeze again, this is so embarrassing.”

Her eyes are already narrowing and filling with that hazy sneezy expression, her nostrils twitching, chest rising with a hitchy inhale.

hehh… ehhh…” she searches her pockets for a tissue but either can’t find any, or runs out of time, because instead, she pulls the collar of her shirt up over her mouth and nose in the hopes that the fabric will muffle the sound. Poor thing tries to sneeze as quietly as possible, but her allergic sneezes are really hard to control. “NkTSH! Mpssshhoo! MmpTSSSCHHew!

People are starting to stare at her now, and even though most of her face is hidden by her shirt, I can see she’s blushing fiercely. She sneezes again, and again, and again, and then she looks at me over her now visibly damp shirt collar, eyes rimmed with red and overflowing with tears.

“Could you check out these books for me? NnnTTSSGGHHH! Ugh… I can feel th-this… ahhESSSHH! Won’t stop any time soon.”

“Sure.” I slide the car keys across the table so she has somewhere to escape to without having to display her drippy self too much for public viewi. She takes them and all but runs out of there, still sneezing helplessly down her own chest every few seconds.

I get up to go check out these books and take them home for an afternoon of quiet reading time.


Well… maybe not that quiet.



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October 12th Magic sickness

First things first; I’m cheating, :lol: . I have absolutely no idea what to write for “magic sickness” since that’s not my usual forte, so I’m tweaking and twisting this into something else. Also posting just a bit past midnight is apparently my habit now. 🤷‍♀️  Hope it doesn't get too weird for those of you in other timezones. :lol: 

(Fandom: Mental.)


 This cold had come on so fast it was like magic.

Well, okay, maybe not magic, but Veronica had felt completely fine when she went to bed the night before, and she woke up with a sore throat, a blocked nose, and a constant need to sneeze.

Danny had been trying to coax her into taking a sick day, but Veronica was adamant about going to work, a display of stubbornness that she seriously, deeply, thoroughly regretted once she was there.

Now she was trying to focus on the patient while fashioning the recurring bouts of sneezing into polite, bottled-up stifles that interrupted as little as possible.

When she stifled her fourth sneezing fit in thirty-five minutes, the patient jokingly said;

“Bless you, doctor Jones. It sounds like you’re the one needing a doctor today.”

She smiled, trying to rise above the frequent feathery tickle in the back of her nose. Mind over matter. Willpower over colds.

Not that it actually worked.

“It’s just a cold, I’b fide…. Nnkt! ‘scuse be. Uh, those thoughts you’re describing, whed did they start?”

The patient pondered the question for a few seconds, and Veronica discreetly wiped her nose with the cuff of her white blouse, not wanting to reach across the table and take a tissue from the box that was in the patient’s personal space. Only a few minutes left of this appointment and then she could go on break.


Jack came into the breakroom while she was making a cup of tea to calm the pain in her throat and maybe – just maybe – have enough voice to get through the next therapy session too.  

“Lemon and honey tea?” Jack remarked, knowing that Veronica usually drank coffee. “Are you getting sick?”

“Doh.” Veronica turned around and Jack, usually never shocked by anything, did a double take. “I’b dot getting sick, I’b already sick.”

As if speaking had triggered it, and maybe it did, her eyes began to narrow as the desperate urge to sneeze came over her again. She frantically searched for something – tissues, napkins, whatever – but nothing was within reach.

Jack produced a handkerchief, seemingly out of thin air, and handed it to her right before the sneeze overtook her. This time, with something soft to release the sneezes into, she didn’t bother stifling. It felt so good to let them out, finally get that suppressed need taken care of.

“Neat trick. How did you do that?” she asked once she got herself back under control and had blown her nose enough to at least sound somewhat intelligible. She dabbed the soft cotton cloth under a nose that surely had taken on an angry red shade by now.

“Magic,” Jack said, eyes twinkling. “My turn. How did you manage to get this sick just overnight?” he asked, in part concerned and in part amused.

Veronica shrugged.


He threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh.

“Fair enough.”


Edited by Ghost_no5
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October 13th: Stoic monster

(Fandom: The 4400.) You're gonna be impressed by how I can twist around prompts I don't really know how to write, lol. And yeah, this is how I roll now, posting soon after midnight in my timezone. We're just gonna have to live with it. :P If anyone actually still reads these, that is. :lol: 



Diana was well on the way of coming down with the worst cold she’d ever had.

Unfortunately, she also had a daughter who wanted to go trick-or-treating, but wasn’t comfortable enough in this time and place to want to go on her own. Meaning Diana had to go with her. And when they first made the plans, Diana had been all-in and made her own costume, a vampire, to match Maia’s bat-costume.

Decked out as a living dead, Diana certainly felt the part.

Her head felt fuzzy from congestion, her throat was sore and scratchy, and she was shivering in her too-thin black outfit. Every once in a while, the tickle in her throat moved into her nose, and she’d have to duck into her cape and try to sneeze as discreetly as possible. She didn’t want Maia to know how miserable she felt, because then Maia would insist on cutting this short and go home, and Diana wanted Maia to enjoy herself.

Unbeknownst to her, Maia – a returnee with the ‘gift’ of clairvoyance – already knew all this and avoided asking to go home, because then Diana would think she did it just for Diana’s sake and sacrificing her own fun. In reality, Maia had quickly realised that this wasn’t as fun as she had thought.

Diana’s nose was starting to run, and she had added a quiet but wet sniffle to the obvious signs of her cold. Then she sniffled a little bit too hard and immediately snapped forward with a sneeze, unable to stifle or hold this one back.


Diana was certain people accidentally bit themselves now and then when sneezing. She was less certain if anyone but her had managed to do so while wearing vampire fangs. It was almost funny. It would have been if it hadn’t been her. Or at the very least if she hadn’t been so miserable already.

Maia came back from one of the houses, glumly put her hand into Diana’s, and looked up at her.

“I wanna go home.”

“Are you sure?” Diana swallowed past that scratchy irritation that coated the inside of her throat, barely managing to withhold a wince. “Your bag is only half-full, and I thought…” the tickle in her nose was too strong to fight; she leaned away from Maia without letting go of her hand, and sneezed into her shoulder. “NngtSSHH! Sorry, I thought we would do the next block too.”


“Yeah, sure, if you want to go home, of course we’ll go home, sweetie.” She squeezed her daughter’s hand reassuringly. “It’s not because of me, though, is it? Because if you’re worried about me, you don’t have to be. It’s just a cold, I’ll be fine.”

In part, it was, but it wasn’t only that, and for a moment Maia had a very grownup thought: how lucky she was to have been adopted by someone she could tell these crazy things to without scaring them.

“The people in that house, their daughter died in an accident last month. I could see the accident in their minds. It was scary.”

Diana pulled Maia close.

“Oh Maia…” she mumbled. “I’m so sorry. I wish you didn’t have to know things like that.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, baby, it’s not. If I could fix it, I would.” She sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe. It’s scary though.”

“Well, all the more reason to talk it through, then,” Diana said. “Let’s go home and talk. And have some candy.”

She sniffled, then had to cough.

“And some tea?” Maia suggested.

“Tea sounds wonderful,” Diana agreed.  


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October 14th: Faux fur/costumes

I’m pushing this too a bit because I got inspired by a photo I saw of my celebrity crush in a.. rather tickly-looking feather-decorated dress. :twisted:  

This fic is original, though.



When she first put the dress on she had been certain it was faux fur. Or rather, faux feathers. Because who used real animal fur/feathers in clothes nowadays, right?

Well, whoever made this dress had, and she had figured that out within minutes. Every inch where the soft, fluffy feathers touched her skin had started itching with an intensity that was almost unbearable. She wouldn’t be surprised to see hives starting to form on her sensitive skin, and could only hope it wouldn’t show on camera if that was the case. Trying to keep herself from scratching at the itch was suddenly a fulltime job in and of its own, her hands kept twitching with the urge to give in.

Her eyes started to feel a bit itchy and watery as well, meaning it was only a matter of time before the itchy discomfort reached her nose, and by then it would be game over.

She adjusted her pose as the photographer directed and when she did, she felt that tickle in the back of her nose. Not so bad at first. Just a tickle, as if a tiny piece of fuzz from the dress had gotten stuck in there. But it quickly got worse.

She really had to sneeze. Her eyes watered from the allergic reaction and the effort of holding back the building sneezes alike, and that in turn made her nose run. She sniffled discreetly, but instantly realised she shouldn’t have done that. The need to sneeze flared up like a wildfire, and she was about to raise her hands to her face when she realised that she was literally wearing feathers, any movement could send them flying, so instead she turned away from the photographer and the camera – carefully, so not to rouse too much feathery fuzz into the air - and sneezed openly towards the ground. She tried not to take too deep breaths, everything to keep as still as possible and not get even more feathers in the air and subsequently, into her face.  

“AaayyISSSSHHHew! ..ehhh.. sniff…! HuhhISSSHHoo!”

“Whoa, bless you! You okay?”

She nodded, but her nose still itched like crazy and she painstakingly stifled another three sneezes, hands-free but still turned away from view.

“Uh, this dress…” she sniffled, an embarrassingly wet sniffle, and continued; “… these aren’t real feathers… are they?”

There was a pleading tone in her voice, begging them to say no, but she already knew what the answer was. The histamine storm in her bloodstream was all the evidence she needed.

“Yes…? Why? I can assure you it’s been done as ethically as possible.”

Yeah, because ripping feathers off living birds is far more ethical than killing them, she thought to herself, but at the moment, even compassion for other creatures had taken a backseat to the absolute firestorm that was raging behind her face.  

“It’s not… I, uh…” she sniffled and hastily raised her hand to her face, completely forgetting to be careful in her movements, “I’m ah-allerghhh… allergic… NnkTHH! She pressed her knuckles against her nose hard, as if she was trying to push the stifled sneeze back inside rather than just stopping more from coming out.

The photographer threw his arms out in an exaggerated gesture, visibly annoyed.

“Great. Makeup!”

The makeup artist came over, but she didn’t seem to know why exactly she was summoned.

“Fix her up.”

I went from covergirl to renovation object in one sneezing fit, that’s almost impressive, she thought, but the humour was bitter.

“No, I… I need to change, I can’t wear this… HAH-itssshhh!” The deep inhale and jerking of her body sent more feathery fuzz into the air. “I’m sorry… ”

“You couldn’t have said so a bit earlier?”

“I’m sorry, I thought…”

Yeah, what had she been thinking? That her acting skills were strong enough to act like she wasn’t dissolving into an allergic goo? That her willpower was somehow strong enough to override the very way her body was wired?

She was blushing, mortified, but much as she would have wanted to ‘the-show-must-go-on’ this situation, she couldn’t. The allergic itch was burning inside her nose and her eyes were streaming. She couldn’t pose for photos in this condition. The dress was beautiful, but what good did that do if she was desperately allergic to it?

“Just a few more photos. Okay? The dress is gorgeous and perfect for the cover.”

She had seen the other dresses she would be wearing, they were all gorgeous… but she didn’t think those photos would be much better, because those dresses were all more low-cut in the front, exposing the upper parts of her breasts, and by now, the itch was so fierce it couldn’t not be indicating hives.

She surrendered. It was just a matter of getting through this. Let them touch up makeup and dab away the allergic tears streaming down her face, she would be the perfect robot and follow commands and they could do maintenance as they went. Hide the redness around her nose, wipe away the wetness leaking out of her eyes and nose, cover the rash, she would focus on holding back the sneezes and just obey commands.

She privately thought the only way these photos could ever be used would be after a ton of photoshop.

“Okay… nnGTSH-ughhhh..!”

A. Ton. Of photoshop.


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I haven’t been commenting because I mostly just don’t log in, but I look forward to your drabbles every day! They’re always so lovely and there’s never enough lady sneeze fics! Many thanks for always putting out great content!

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Oh, that last prompt and that one picture were made for each other.

The latest offerings are so lovely.  I loved the Diana one and that was a very creative use of the prompt. 

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16 hours ago, Purplelily said:

I haven’t been commenting because I mostly just don’t log in, but I look forward to your drabbles every day! They’re always so lovely and there’s never enough lady sneeze fics! Many thanks for always putting out great content!

Thank you!! :heart:  It really means a lot. It's hard writing some of these prompts, especially when I'm not big on colds (unless super character/person specific) and so many of the prompts only lend themselves to illness. :lol: 

8 hours ago, SpookyPhlox said:

Oh, that last prompt and that one picture were made for each other.

The latest offerings are so lovely.  I loved the Diana one and that was a very creative use of the prompt. 

Thank you so much. Hehe, I know, I actually started writing for that prompt the same day I had seen that picture. :yay:  She really did have a bit of that allergic look about her. :shifty:  Oh man, I loved writing the Diana one!! It just flowed! :yay:  🧛‍♀️


Okay, here's the one for today... that is, Saturday... because it's Saturday here now already. :lol: 


October 15th Free birthday space – the creator of the prompt list celebrates their birthday today, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY! And also, that will inspire my prompt:





It started like this:

“Honey, if I order a birthday cake, could you pick it up on your way from work?”

“Excuse me what?”

Oh no. I thought if I mention it casually when she’s immersed in her book, she would just say yes and not remember having agreed to it, so I can just tell her in passing when we get ready for bed ‘oh by the way, could you pick up the cake tomorrow?’ Apparently, the book wasn’t interesting enough.

Buying a birthday cake? Not on my watch!” she jumps out of the couch – suddenly way more agile than she claimed to be when getting out of bed this morning – and I can see that she’s already plotting out the decoration and everything for it.

“Baby…” But I already know it will be in vain; talking her out of something she got excited about is a full endeavour, and she’s really good in the kitchen. I just wanted to save time and be lazy.  

Thing is, I somehow always get dragged into her projects, so here I am, unexpectedly on kitchen duty.

“You’re gonna make the whole cake from scratch?” I ask.

“Unless you rather eat those disgustingly stale pre-made sponge cake layers you can get at the store?” she says, and that is a resounding ‘of course I fucking am’ in a nicer package if ever I heard one.

“Stupid question,” I say.

“Yes it was,” she says with a sweet smile. “Get the stuff from the fridge, please?”

Well… her baked goods taste way better than store-bought, and frankly, better than the bakery’s too most of the time. I’m not gonna tell her that part though, because she’s already so good at everything, she’s gonna get cocky.

When she starts mixing it all together, flour dust gets into the air, swirling around dangerously close to her very sensitive nose. It’s fascinating. I even see some of it get into her nostrils, and for a moment, it seems like she can handle it.

Then her nostrils twitch and flare. Her lips pull back as she fights against the tickle, and her eyebrows knit together. Eyes slowly closing. Chest heaving. Hitching. Sniffling. Fighting it back.

“Oh, I got some in my nose,” she says in a breathy voice, “I think I h-have to … heh…”

She shakes her head, as if trying to get rid of the tickle that way, which of course doesn’t work. Her nostrils flare even wider.

“Babe…” her breath hitches, “I’m gonna n-need a h-hahhh… hand…”

Oh for the love of…! Why does she know exactly how to use this to her advantage? But yeah, I’m game, of course I am.

“A hand...?” I walk up close to her and pulling my top down a little. “How about a cleavage?”

“Thatworkstoo” she says so quickly it’s one word, rising in pitch as it spills out of her, and then she presses her face between my tits and sneezes, muffling two wet outbursts into my waiting cleavage.

“MmmpTSSHHew! mmTISSSHooo!”

“Bless you, sweetness. You know what I’d rather do than bake now, right?” I coo when she resurfaces, hoping she’ll agree.

“Cake first,” she says, in a tone that there’s no arguing with. “Happy birthday in advance,” she adds with that mischievous grin that I love so much. “I hate spoiling surprises, but since you look so disappointed; there’ll be more of this tomorrow. I got you flowers.”

Leaning in very close, she whispers:

“Chrysanthemums and Gerberas.”

The two kinds of flowers that set her allergies off the worst? Oh God. Happy birthday to me, indeed!


Edited by Ghost_no5
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6 hours ago, chronic reader said:

Happy early birthday!!!

Oh, no it's not my birthday, but the person who came up with the prompt list's. ☺️ I'm not up for birthday until January. But thank you anyway. 😉😆 

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October 16th: A sickly visitor

(Fandom: The 4400.)


“Aunt April is coming to visit,” Maia said without taking her eyes off the TV screen. Diana had just poured herself a glass of wine and sat down next to her daughter.

“No she isn’t.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Well, if she is, she’s gonna have to leave. I don’t want her here. Not after what she did the last time.”

The doorbell rang.

Suspicious green eyes met unsurprised brown.

“Seriously? At this hour?” Diana said. Maia nodded.

Groaning, Diana got up and went to answer the door, steeling herself to send her selfish younger sister on her way.

The creature that showed up on Diana’s doorstep looked like a drenched cat.

“April.” Diana’s annoyance didn’t completely give way for sympathy, but it wasn’t as strong as before. “What the hell happened to you?”

Before April could even answer, she sneezed a rapid triple into a pair of soaked gloves. Probably soaked by rainwater, but from how April looked – and sounded – these weren’t the first sneezes today.

“Cad I cobe id, Di?” April asked, giving Diana her most pleading puppy eyes. “Steve kicked be out.”

“Steve? I thought you dated some guy named Chris?”

“That was bodths ago.” She sniffled thickly and started coughing. “Please, Di. I tried the botel but it was full.”

Her big sister sighed.

“Fine, come in.”

When Diana turned around, Maia stood there.

“Go back and watch the movie, sweetie.”

“Hi aunt April,” Maia said, ignoring her mother and went for a hug. April took a step back.

“Hi babygirl,” she said in a raspy voice. “Let’s skip the hug, I’b soaking wet… and really sick.”

“Okay,” Maia said. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve bissed you too,” April said.

“Go back and watch the movie,” Diana said again and this time Maia went. She waited until Maia was, if not completely out of earshot so at least more focused on the movie, before she spoke again. “I said I didn’t want you anywhere near my daughter again. I meant that. You used her abilities for your own gain and betrayed the trust of a little girl who adored you. You can stay tonight, but only because it’s late and you’re sick.”

She shook her head.

“I’ll get you some fresh towels and dry clothes, and you can go take a hot shower.”

“Thag you. Uhh.. ahhISSSSH! ISSCHHoo! HahISSSHHew!”

“Mhm. Bless you. I’ll get you some tissues too.”


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