Triosk's Drabble Thread (75/101) - loads of fandoms, most recently Giri/Haji

[queenie]

Well, Anthony is a darling. I'd gladly spend more time with him! 

 

Also pretty fond of the ill Remus one, I must say. 

[Vetinari]

Remus Lupin is the perfect candidate for a cold. Nice choice.

And the rest are delicious too.

Thanks Katrelle.

[Shamaël]

I just discovered your drabble thread yesterday and even if the first ones are quite old, I wanted to tell you that I loved the one with Snape (I love Snape) and of course the Star Trek drabbles (with a little preference for Chekov). Your ill Remus is also wonderful! Thank you for these drabbles!!!

[Triosk1]

Thank you so much to everyone who's reading and commenting! It's lovely to feel that people are enjoying what I'm writing. This thread has been going for so long and I hardly ever update these days (except for occasional sudden bursts of frenetic writing, like now), so it's nice to know it's not just disappearing into the void. 

Anyway, these are three more that follow on from Sweat, so more set in an Oxford college with a young academic and PhD (they call them DPhil) students. A Junior Dean is like a Resident Advisor - they're normally grad students who get free accommodation and meals and a small stipend in return for a huge amount of emotional and practical labour keeping the student body sane and vaguely functional, often with little to no help from the Deans who are professors. People who do this are heroes.

 

#39 – Muffle
Fandom/Original: Original, set in a fictional Oxford college
Characters: Alex (female DPhil  student), Anthony (male Junior Research Fellow)
Fetish: Anthony (hayfever)
Word Count: 110

Alex answered the phone on the second ring. “Hello, Alex Haver?”

“Hi Alex, it’s Anthony Marcus.” Alex heard a few unclear scuffling noises, followed by a muffled sneeze from the other end of the phone. “H’MPH’TSHOO!...Sorry, excuse me.”

“Bless you! What can I do for you?”

“I’ve got a…potential concern about a student that I’d like to run by you.”

“Oh, of course, my pleasure.“ There was the sound of another sneeze from a distance away, presumably as Anthony covered the phone’s mouthpiece with a hand.

“Hah’TSHOO!!”

“Bless you. I’ll come right up.”

“Oh no, um…oh…” Anthony stopped as he heard the dial tone, and lowered the phone. Too late.

 

#45 – Sore
Fandom/Original: Original, set in a fictional Oxford college
Characters: Alex (female DPhil student), Anthony (male Junior Research Fellow)
Fetish: Anthony (hayfever)
Word Count: 512

“God, I forgot about your room.” Alex didn’t mince words as the waves of heat rolled over her. Anthony rolled his eyes in commiseration and gestured to the chair on the other side of his desk.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’d have come down…” His eyes unfocused for a second, eyebrows pulling together, and then he sneezed, handkerchief already in his hand. The first was ticklish, quickly over, but then he took a deeper breath and continued, each seeming more torturous and drawn out than the last.

“H’TCHOO!...Hah’TSHOO!!...hah…Hah’TCHOO!!...huuh…H’ISSHHOO!!”

The fit culminated with such a resoundingly loud sneeze that Alex wasn’t surprised when Anthony emerged from it looking slightly dazed. She also noticed how red and sore his eyes were looking.

“Wow, bless you. Hayfever still awful, I’m guessing?”

Anthony nodded silently, refolding his handkerchief and blowing his nose.

“Unfortunately, yes. Sorry about that – no amount of antihistamines are really helping, I’m afraid, and the heat’s just unbearable with the window closed. But anyway, I wanted to talk to you about Michael Atwood. I don’t know if you know him…”

“Second year mathmo, parents in Bath, went to Westminster, lives in the Billingham,” Alex reeled off immediately. When Anthony looked surprised, she shrugged. “It’s my job to know everything about everyone. Junior Deaning is much easier that way. What’s going on?”

“Well, his work’s deteriorated in the last few weeks, and I’ve noticed his concentration is much worse than usual in tutorials. I think there must be something going on; he’s been very dedicated and capable up until now.”

“Ok, that definitely sounds like something we should get to grips with, particularly before exams.” Anthony nodded, rubbing at his nose in a distracted way. “Trinity can be a very stressful term, I’m sure you understand.” Alex thought quickly; it was Anthony’s first term in Oxford, first time teaching to their intense, eight-week terms, and this was the first thing he’d come to her about. “We have two choices. If you’d like me to speak to him and see if I can help with whatever’s wrong, I’m very happy to do that. But alternatively—” she broke off as Anthony raised a hand to stop her, and his handkerchief.

“Heh’H’ATSSHOO!...Eh’TSHOOO!!” He paused for a moment, as though assessing whether another sneeze was forthcoming, then waved her on.

“Alternatively, if you’d like to speak to him yourself, I can give you some advice on how to do that. You’re very welcome to – I’m not precious about it.” As one of two Junior Deans she was co-responsible for keeping an eye on student welfare at Beaufort, although as her colleague was currently away from Oxford with severe stress, she had been running the shop mostly on her own for the whole year. Her own work had certainly suffered, but she was proud of the improvements she’d made so far. Anthony considered, removing his glasses and rubbing his sore eyes distractedly.

“I’d rather speak to him myself first, but I’d certainly appreciate a few tips on how to best go about it.”

“Great! Let’s get to work.”

 

#98 – Favour
Fandom/Original: Original, set in a fictional Oxford college
Characters: Alex (female DPhil student), Anthony (male Junior Research Fellow)
Fetish: Anthony (hayfever)
Word Count: 277

A week later, Alex got another phone call from Anthony. After a few exchanges of pleasantries, including the fact that his office was still overheated, and her academic work was still not going well, she got round to asking:

“So, how did it all go with Michael Atwood?”

“Very well, actually. Thanks a lot for all of your help. As you suggested…” There was a pause and what sounded like a soft gasp, but then he continued. “I asked if he’d be happy for me to share it with you, and he agreed. He has a girlfriend back at home in Bath and they were going through a rough patch, but it seems to have all resolved itself now. His revision certainly seems to be going better, anyway…sorry…going to…H’MPHT’TSHOO!” She heard a hastily muffled sneeze down the line.

“Bless you. That’s great news, though! And it’s good that you talked to him about it.”

“I really don’t think he would have opened up with your helpful advice. Which is why I’d like to propose a favour. I know your confirmation of status is coming up. I remember mine, and I know something about your area of work. I think it would have been helpful for me to have had someone to run through a practice version with. Do you think that would be a useful thing to do?” He sounded hesitant, but Alex launched right in.

“God, that would be amazing, thank you!”

“Great. How about next Tuesday afternoon? I’ll—Hah’TCHISH!! EH’TCHU!! Hah’TSHOOO!” The quickfire, explosive sneezes seemed to catch him completely by surprise, and Alex heard him sigh. “I’ll book a room.”

[Triosk1]

One more! I have plans for more but no more time for a bit.

#63 – Control
Fandom/Original: Original, set in a fictional Oxford college
Characters: Alex (female DPhil student), Anthony (male Junior Research Fellow)
Fetish: Anthony (hayfever)
Word Count: 450

In the end, they met in one of the small, ground-floor teaching rooms looking out over Back Quad. Alex had sent Anthony a copy of her first chapters, and after a general introduction to what she could expect, he'd taken her through them with a fine-tooth comb. It was a gruelling two-hour session; despite not being his precise area of mathematics, he was familiar enough with the systems to be able to point out several important gaps and errors, and to give her a taste of what she had coming in just a few days.

Alex was impressed by how calmly authoritative Anthony came across. He couldn't be more than early thirties, only a few years older than her, and he wasn’t an expert on what they were discussing. But he managed to steer the conversation effortlessly, keeping her engaged and making progress, allowing her to put her point across when she wanted to and countering it confidently. What could have been a demoralising, defensive experience was in fact some of the best academic sparring and collaboration. She hoped her real confirmation of status would go half as well.

She also began to notice Anthony differently. He wore rimless glasses, which suited him, allowing his strikingly green eyes to be seen clearly. His dark brown hair was unruly but not a mess. He wore the uniform of young Oxford academics in every college: smart shirt, corduroy trousers and tweed jacket with leather elbow patches. Old-fashioned but still fashionable, just formal enough not to be taken for a graduate student.

"Alex?" She realised she'd lost the thread of what they were saying, and he'd asked her something

"Sorry. Come again?"

Anthony tapped an equation. Unlike the real thing, rather than sitting across from him, they sat on the same side of the dark wooden table. She could faintly smell cologne and pencil shavings. Shifting in her seat, she looked down at the equation.

"Should this be summed—” He broke off, turned quickly away from her, and pinched his nose, painfully stifling a sneeze. "Hh'TCH!!" An instant later, as though nothing had happened, he continued. "Summed from 1, not 0?"

"Um. Yes, it should, you're right. So that means..." She followed the logic down the page, looking for consequences.

Anthony quickly stifled another sneeze, turning sideways. The force made his head bob and his eyes squeezed shut for a second, then he immediately went on. "H'TKCH!! Yes, so this equation here should be x squared, not x cubed."

In such close proximity, and since he seemed so determined to appear completely in control, Alex felt slightly awkward acknowledging him sneezing. And she wondered if there was anything else they weren’t acknowledging.

[tma]

Gah!!!!!  I am melting!!! Soooo much that I absolutely adore!!

[Triosk1]

Yay! I'm thrilled you like it. It's nice just writing some fluff in a setting I love and know lots about. I feel like we have similar tastes in fics sometimes

Another one, but I have at least 2 more parts coming when I have time!

#8 – Joy
Fandom/Original: Original, set in a fictional Oxford college
Characters: Alex (female DPhil student), Anthony (male Junior Research Fellow)
Fetish: Anthony (hayfever)
Word Count:  569

On the Saturday of Summer Eights, it seemed that the entire college had crammed onto the Beaufort boat house to watch the final day of rowing. Anthony spotted a familiar flash of red hair near the front rail of the roof, and shouldered his way through. Just as he arrived, Alex turned and spotted him.

“Anthony! I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“I couldn’t miss the chance to see W1 get blades, even if—” he raised his handkerchief and directed a resigned sneeze into it. “Hah’TSHOOO!”

“Bless you.” He looked vague, as though the need to sneeze hadn’t really gone away. “Do you want a drink? There’s a cool box.”

“Thanks.” He found a chilled can of coke and opened it, but after a few seconds, removed his glasses and held it against his eyelids, sighing.

“You teach Eleanor Wilson, don’t you? She’s number 6 in W1.” He nodded, returning his glasses to his nose.

“That’s right. She’s one of my star students…sorry...Hh’TCHOO!! H’ah’SHOOO!!”

“Bless you.”

“Thanks,” he said thickly through his handkerchief. “Do you row?”

“I did as an undergrad, not well though. It just took up too much time. You?”

Anthony nodded. “As an undergrad in Cambridge: Emma. But I really got into it when I did my PhD at Harvard.” He took a breath as though to say more, then gave a tiny shake of his head, eyes closing, mouth opening slightly. “Hh’TSHOO!! Hah’TSHOOO!!...Huh’ASHOO!!”

“Bless you. Did you not get hayfever in the US?”

He smiled. “Actually, if anything it was worse. But student health insurance paid for some kind of shot that cleared it right up. I can’t seem to get it on the NHS." He dabbed at his unruly nose before continuing. "Anyway, congratulations on your confirmation!”

Alex grinned. “Thank you. It really went well in the end. Thank you so much for your run-through – I felt so much calmer going in, and they weren’t too harsh.”

“I’m glad it went well – I was sure you’d do fine.”

“You could have told me that!” She laughed, and then they heard the klaxon. They pressed forward until they were leaning on the rail, waiting for the boats to come round the bend. As the first oars came into view, Anthony rubbed at his nose, trying not to sneeze at a crucial moment.

“Here they come!” The boathouse went wild, cheering for Beaufort’s top women’s crew as they rounded the bend. They were rowing hard towards Wolsey College’s boat and looked like they were going to make the bump.

“YES!” Alex screamed at the top of her lungs as the boats touched. Anthony was suddenly cheering along with everyone else, carried along on the wave of joy and exuberance. They’d won blades.

After the excitement died down and the crowd started to disperse, they both started to make their way down.

"Are you coming to the dinner tonight?" Alex asked casually. "Maggie's taking me to high table."

"Yes, I'll be there. It'll be my first black-tie event at Beaufort." He paused on the steps, and lifted his handkerchief. For a second he teetered just on the edge of sneezing, nose smarting, eyes closed. Then:

"Hah'TSHOOO!!...H'EESHHHOO!!...Hah'TSHOOO!!...ugh..." He let out a low moan.

"Bless you."

"Thanks. Look, I've just got to get out of here, give my nose a break. Tell Eleanor well done from me if you see her, ok?"

"Will do. See you later."

Edited June 14, 2017 by Katrelle

[queenie]

Ohhhh, these are so fun. This is a good setting and poor Anthony never does seem to get a break. (I don't want him to.)

[Triosk1]

MOAR! Nearly done now, though, sadly. 

#29 – Purple
Fandom/Original: Original, set in a fictional Oxford college
Characters: Alex (female DPhil student), Anthony (male Junior Research Fellow)
Fetish: Anthony (hayfever)
Word Count:  395

This time, Alex spotted Anthony before he saw her. Over the shoulder of Maggie, her supervisor, she took a moment to enjoy the view. Being at Oxford meant that she saw a lot of people wear black tie, and just because it was more restrictive for men than women didn't mean that all men looked the same in it. Anthony was wearing a black waistcoat under his jacket, hugging his slim frame. He was wearing a purple bow tie which brought out the green of his eyes – and, she realised with a start, matched her dress almost perfectly. Alex took a sip of her champagne and turned back to the conversation, resolving not to make the first move. It didn't take long.

"Congratulations again." Anthony handed her a card in a cream envelope. She looked incredible, sun-kissed and glowing with happiness, wearing a purple dress with a back which swooped down to below her shoulderblades and was cut low to flatter her figure. Her hair was loose, except for a thin plait at each temple which twisted together at the back like a tiara. She wore elegant gladiator sandals rather than heels but they were of a height.

"Oh, thank you!" She took it from him, slipping it into her purse to open later. "The perfect end to a perfect day." She gestured around them. The upper library was radiant with evening sunshine, giving a golden sheen to the ancient globes and dark wood bookcases and leather spines. There was a comforting murmur of conversation and tinkling glasses all around them.

"Maggie has an offer to make you," Alex told him. "She heard about your heating pipe situation."

"Utterly ridiculous," the older lady chipped in brusquely. "Sometimes this college is completely antediluvian. Anyway, I'm off on sabbatical next week, so you can have my office until October 1st. How does that sound?"

Anthony was taken aback. As a senior professor, her office was about four times the size of his. "That's very generous. Thank you so much."

"Not at all." she trundled off to greet another colleague.

"Eleanor was over the moon to get blades," said Alex, as they began to make their way down to dinner.

"I'm sure." Alex quickly pinched his nose and sneezed as they descended the stairs, other hand gripping the handrail. "H'TCH!! Eh'TCH'U!!"

"Bless you."

"Th-thank—H'TTCH!! Thank you," he finished.

 

 

 

#23 – Alcohol
Fandom/Original: Original, set in a fictional Oxford college
Characters: Alex (female DPhil student), Anthony (male Junior Research Fellow)
Fetish: Anthony (hayfever)
Word Count: 396

Throughout dinner, Anthony was torn between listening to the chatter around him admiring Alex. He had never been one for High Table chat, but she kept up her end of sparkling conversation as though born to it. He found he hardly needed to do more than add an occasional anecdote or nod along as she took the Dean of Corpus through the entire day's rowing without pausing for breath.

The food was excellent, the rest of the Hall was rowdy with enthusiastic students reaching the end of term and their exams, the wine was flowing freely, and Anthony felt himself finally start to relax.

"So, you've survived your first term. How did you find it?" Sarah, the senior tutor asked him kindly. Anthony considered.

"Not too bad, I think.” His nose was itching again. “It's another week before everyone's finished Mods and Finals, but I'm not worried…H’TCH!!” He stifled a sneeze and continued smoothly. “Excuse me, I’m not worried about them. If they work hard, they… all…Hah’TTCH!!...all deserve to do well."

She nodded. "Excellent. That's excellent. Well, I don't mind telling you, that all the other mathematicians have been extremely impressed so far." She lowered her voice and leaned across the table towards him. "Truth be told, I think this year's results are likely to be the best we've had in some time, and you can take plenty of the credit for that."

Anthony blushed and took another drink of wine. "That's very nice to hear," he mumbled. Part of him was hoping that Alex, engrossed in conversation beside him, might have heard as well. He rubbed at his nose, which was suddenly itching badly. Turning to his right, which his neighbour had vacated for a minute, he fumbled in his pocket. No handkerchief.

"Hah'TCHSH!!" He sneezed as quietly as he could manage. He must have left it in his other jacket. "Heh...TCHU!!" His hayfever had calmed down so much this afternoon that he hadn't thought, but now it seemed to be coming back with a vengeance. Perhaps it was the wine, loosening him up. "Hah'TSHISH!! Ah'TSSHU!!" The desperate sneezes caused more than one head to turn his way as he sniffed, embarrassed.

He felt something being pushed into his free left hand. It rustled slightly. He looked down to see Alex deep in conversation with the Bursar, and himself holding an unopened pack of tissues.

Edited June 15, 2017 by Katrelle

[tma]

I have to write more about this later, but wanted to be sure that you know that I am fangirling this sooooo much!!!

[Triosk1]

Last one for now! I'm so glad you're enjoying it - all feedback welcome

#60 – Bike
Fandom/Original: Original, set in a fictional Oxford college
Characters: Alex (female DPhil student), Anthony (male Junior Research Fellow)
Fetish: Anthony (hayfever)
Word Count:  362

Several hours, courses, and wines, later Anthony and Alex made their way out of the dining hall to look out at Front Quad in the moonlight. They had both given up any pretence that they weren’t interested in each other, but now, the evening drawing to a close, they were reluctant to make the next move. Anthony felt slightly dizzy, his heart beating slightly too fast, hyper aware of Alex beside him.

“Look, you can see Orion’s belt,” Alex pointed upwards. He tried to follow her finger, but instead had to dig a tissue out of his pocket, pressing the back of his free hand to his nose.

“Hah’TSHOO!” He sneezed, but the tickle in his nose didn’t show any sign of leaving.

“Bless you.”

He shook his head slightly, hand still raised, eyelashes fluttering. His head dipped again. “Hah’TCHOO!! AH’TSHOOO!” Sniffing, he blinked a few times. “Thank you.” They started to walk towards the porter’s lodge and the door out of the college.

“How long do your allergies last? Are you going to be this miserable all summer?”

Anthony shrugged vaguely. “It varies. They normally calm down a lot by September. I’m used to it.”

“God. So you’ll have a month of respite before all the new students arrive and give you Freshers’ Flu.”

“Exactly,” he laughed, and pushed through the normal-sized door within the enormous wooden ones which opened only for very special occasions, like getting the Christmas tree in each year. He turned back to Alex. “Well, I guess this is—”

“Watch out!” She grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him towards her, pinning her against the stone wall. A cyclist zoomed past on the pavement, missing them by inches, with no lights or helmet.

“Bloody hell,” Anthony breathed, his heart racing. But before he could move, Alex had leaned in and kissed him. She tasted of dessert wine, and strawberries, and he wrapped his arms around her waist without hesitation and kissed her back. When they pulled apart, he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She grinned at him, and they walked off down the High Street into the night.

Edited September 17, 2021 by Triosk1

[tma]

Oh my gosh... I *adore* this pairing.  The setting, the type of characters.  And yes, the type of "wrongness" - too.  Just...

 

So absolutely lovely!!  I'm just SO dead with that kiss too.

And yes, I definitely think that we have very similar "types".

[Triosk1]

Yay! I'm really, really glad you liked

I lied, one more. I couldn't resist. This is a cold one, though, and it's set a bit later. 

 

#43 – Contagion
Fandom/Original: Original, set in a fictional Oxford college
Characters: Alex (female DPhil student), Anthony (male Junior Research Fellow)
Fetish: Anthony (cold)
Word Count: 189

“Anthony Marcus?”

“It’s me. How’s it going?”

Anthony smiled to hear Alex’s voice on the phone. “It’s plodding along here. We survived Freshers’ Week without hospitalizations, I think.”

“Really? That’s pretty good. There’s normally at least one at Subject Settlers. How are the new mathmos.”

There was a pause on the line, and then a resounding sneeze. “H’AH’TSHOO!! *sniff* Contagious,” Anthony managed thickly.

“Oh no! They’ve given you Freshers’ Flu!” Alex sounded amused. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and wrinkling his nose, warding off another sneeze.

“Yep. But never mind. Tell me about Copenhagen.”

“It’s amazing, the city’s great, very cold. And the conference is going really well. Posters tonight.” She heard a muffled sneeze, then two more.

“H’MPHT’TSHOO! Hah…Hah’TCHOOO! ISSSHU!!...ugh…”

“Bless you. Are you ok? You sound miserable.”

“I’m fine. It sounds worse than it is,” Anthony lied, sniffing. “I’m glad the conference is going well.”

He listened to her rave about the speakers she’d seen and the research they’d talked about until she had to get ready.

“Take care, ok?” She asked him more seriously.

“I will. Good luck tonight. Enjoy yourself.”

“Will do. Bye!"

[queenie]

Aww, he lied to her so she wouldn't worry. She's going to be very let down when she comes home and finds him worse than she had been led to believe!

[tma]

Awwww!!  The lie to make her not worry, and keep spotlight on her and enjoying herself.... just way too sweet!!

[camillapapen]

Katrelle, I love these! I am an Oxford grad, and I still live in the city, so it's amazing to read something that's been set in the world I know. Thank you for writing.

[Triosk1]

New story! This is fanfic from Endeavour, a TV series about a young Inspector Morse. Also set in Oxford, as it happens, but that's not important. Don't think it will go any further than this. Inspired by @RiversD's lovely Endeavour one-shot.

 

#57 – Hospital
Fandom/Original: Endeavour (TV series)
Characters: Endeavour Morse, Monica Hicks
Fetish: Morse (cold)
Word Count: 225

Morse stood outside the door to his flat, struggling to find his keys while holding his heavy overcoat and handkerchief. He’d been feeling rotten all day, suffering from a cold which was reducing his cognitive faculties to so much cotton wool, and he was looking forward to a quiet evening and an early night. His fingers finally closed on the metal keyring in his pocket just as the next-door flat opened. To his surprise, a young woman he had never seen before emerged, dressed in a blue nurse’s uniform. She had dark brown skin and big brown eyes and, even with his cold-addled brain, Morse noticed that she was very attractive.

“Hi!” She said, locking up. “I’m Monica, just moved in next door.”

“Morse,” he managed, as his nose gave a sudden twinge. Features crumpling, he turned away from her to bury his nose in his handkerchief, before an exhausted sneeze overtook him. “Hh’RRSCHOO!!”

“Bless you.” He nodded in acknowledgement, dabbing at his nose dazedly.

“You’re a nurse?” He asked, stupidly. Monica smiled.

“That’s right, at the Radcliffe Infirmary. I’m on nights this week, so I don’t suppose we’ll see very much of each other for a while. Good to meet you!”

“You too.” He watched her walk down the corridor as he unlocked his flat at last. Maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

 

#66 – Raincoat
Fandom/Original: Endeavour (TV series)
Characters: Endeavour Morse, Monica Hicks
Fetish: Morse (cold)
Word Count: 125

In fact, he saw Monica again right away, on his way out of the flat the following morning.

“Like ships in the night,” she commented, returning from her shift just as he was leaving for his.

Morse just nodded, once again fighting the urge to sneeze, and unable to find a handkerchief in the pockets of his massive raincoat into the bargain. The weather was foul, rain hammering on the windows when he woke up, and as he was finally starting to feel a little better, he had no intention of getting soaked to the skin.

“Heh’H’RRSCHOO!” He dug out the handkerchief just in time as the harsh, congested sneezes hit. “H’EESSCHOO!!”

“Bless you. On your way to work?”

“Yes. I’m a Detective Constable at Cowley Police Station,” he managed, thickly. “Well, have a good day.”

“You too.”

 

#79 – Music
Fandom/Original: Endeavour (TV series)
Characters: Endeavour Morse, Monica Hicks
Fetish: Morse (cold)
Word Count: 424

It was just gone 2pm when Monica heard a knock at the door, quiet but insistent. A policeman’s knock, she thought, then laughed at herself. She’d been making a start on unpacking, a jazz record on the turntable, boxes and unbuilt furniture scattered all over the place.

Opening the door, she found her instincts had been correct.

“Morse! I didn’t think you’d be in.” She took in his pink-tinged nose against pale skin and red-rimmed eyes.

“Got sent home,” he said, sheepishly, his voice muffled and extremely stuffed up. “Guvnor accused me of infecting the whole station.”

Monica smiled, then held the door wide as she went back into her chaotic living room. “I’m so sorry,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll turn the music off, it must come thumping through the wall. I’m sure you just want to get some rest.”

Morse lingered in the doorway. “Actually, I came round to ask if there was anything I could do to help? It can’t be much fun unpacking around shifts.”

Monica looked up and waved him in. “Well, if you’re offering, I’m not going to say no. But don’t feel you have to be chivalrous if you’re feeling awful.”

“Honestly, it sounds worse than it is.” She raised her eyebrows, unconvinced, but shrugged.

“If you say so. You can help me put this bookcase together.” She threw him a set of Allen keys and together they started screwing the pieces together, Morse having to stop frequently to blow his nose or sneeze into his handkerchief.

“H’EEESSCHOO!!” After the tenth sneeze she finished the frame, and they levered it upright into position.

“Great! If you make a start on the shelves, I’ll put the kettle on.” She went off into the kitchen and Morse began putting the shelves into place. As he finished the last one, he paused, overcome for a second, one hand on the bookcase, the other raising his handkerchief. “Heh’HRRRSCHOO!! H’ESSSHOOO!...H’ESSSCHOO!!” The resounding sneezes made him dizzy for a moment, and he took a heavy seat on the sofa, thankfully already constructed. Monica arrived with two mugs of tea and some biscuits on a tray, which she put on some unopened boxes. She sat next to him.

“Thanks for that, it looks great.”

“No problem.” He sipped his tea gratefully. “Is there anything else I can do?”

“No, I’m going to leave it there I think. Get some shut-eye before my shift. Thanks ever so much for your help, though.” She smiled at him genuinely, and he blushed.

“You’re welcome. Any time.”

Edited August 2, 2017 by Katrelle

[Leafeon78]

Really enjoyed reading these such wonderful pairings keep it up.  

[tma]

Ooooo.... 1) Now I **have** to find where to watch this show.  Never saw Inspector Morse, but was a huge Inspector Lewis fan.  Son and I went through all of them.  Definitely need to see.

2) LOVED these drabbles     Unsurprisingly.  Sweet little snapshots and you write things in just the way that has me into puddle of goo inside.  lol!

Lovely!!

[Triosk1]

Thank you so much for the nice comments! @tma, I think you might really like Endeavour: Shaun Evans is completely adorable and spends a lot of time being a bit tortured and very, very sweet. The quality of the writing varies but it's often very good,  and Roger Allam is wonderful as Morse's DI.

Edited July 28, 2017 by Katrelle

[March Hare]

Oh my god. Endeavour?  ALL THE YES. 

Because yes. He is ADORABLE. And with a cold... hell to the fuck to the yes, all of that. 

WONDERFUL.

[Triosk1]

Something completely different, sorry for those who aren't into female sneezing. I really don't write much of it, but this was inspired by a festival I was at recently.

#61 – Idiot
Fandom/Original: Original
Characters: Alice, set at a music festival
Fetish: Alice (hayfever)
Word Count: 426

“Idiot. Idiot,” Alice muttered, emptying her bag for the fifth time and checking in the corners of her tent. No luck. She was sure she’d packed more than enough antihistamines for the whole festival, but somehow she had run out. Now she was camped in a field in the middle of nowhere, with two days to go and pollen counts sky high. Great.

Well, she was damned if she was going to let it spoil her trip. She dug out all the spare packs of tissues she could find, showered, washed her face thoroughly, and shoved her blonde hair into a messy bun. It hadn’t rained yet, so she could get away without wellies for once. She cursed herself again that if she’d just brought enough pills, this would have been the perfect weekend for it.

The main stage was in a large open marquee, covered in case of bad weather. As the music was only just starting, it wasn’t too full, lots of families on picnic blankets and space to spread out. Alice found a spot near the middle to stand and watch. To her dismay the grass on the ground had been trodden on so much that it had dried out and now looked more like hay, dusty and brown. She scrubbed at her already itching nose with her knuckles, determined to enjoy herself.

The band were good, electric folk-rock, with fast-paced, upbeat Celtic tunes and enthusiastic singers. Alice swayed along, relatively unself-conscious among the crowd of young people enjoying themselves. She had to keep sniffing as time passed, though, and her brown eyes were tearing up and itching. Finally:

“Heh’tch!” She held her knuckles under her nose, trying to stifle the sneeze, but it did nothing to dispel the tickle; almost immediately her eyelids fluttered shut and her head bobbed forward. “Heh’tchuh!! Hih’tchu!” They were getting harder to contain, and the itch showed no signs of subsiding. Alice took a shaky breath, cupping one hand over her face while she felt in her pocket for a tissue. “Heh’tchu! TSHOO! Hih’tchu!!”

She managed to extract one from the packet and blew her nose, hoping this would calm her allergies for the moment. No such luck; almost immediately she felt the itch multiply, and inhaling sharply, she sneezed again.

“Heh’tchoo! Ah’TSHOO! Hih’TCH!-Ah’SHOO!!” Sniffing, eyes streaming, she gave up on any hope of stifling, and held the tissue to her nose instead, sneezing freely. “Hah’TCHISH! Heh-hih’TCHOO! Ah’TSHOO!...heh…hah’TSHOO!!” At last, her nose seemed satisfied, and she stood, regaining her breath, wondering where the nearest chemists might be.

[Triosk1]

Merry Christmas everyone! I felt the need to write something silly, so this is Mark Darcy from Bridget Jones being allergic to cats:

 

#34 – Relief
Fandom/Original: Bridget Jones’s Diary
Characters: Mark Darcy, Bridget Jones, Jane (original)
Pairings: Mark Darcy/Bridget Jones
Fetish: Mark (male), cat allergy
Word Count: 161

“I am so sorry!” Bridget’s wail followed him into the bathroom as Mark opened the cupboard and pulled out a crumpled packet of antihistamines. Taking two without water, he soaked a flannel in cold water, put it over his face, and sat on the side of the bath waiting for relief.

“It’s alright, Bridge,” he called wearily. “You didn’t know she had a cat.”

The last two hours had been torture. They’d gone round to an old schoolfriend of Bridget’s, Jane, for tea and cake. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to them, her living room had been dominated by an extremely curious (and fluffy) ginger tomcat. To which Mark was extremely allergic.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he had managed through his handkerchief after the third sneezing fit. “If I’d known, I would have taken a…a pill before we came-” He broke off, breath hitching as another sneeze inexorably began. “Heh…hah’tshoo!!...I’m sure it’ll…calm down in a min-…hah’SHOO!!...in a…Huh’SHOO!!...in a minute,” he finished lamely, refolding his handkerchief.

[Triosk1]

More! I recently rewatched the amazing French film Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1023441/?ref_=nv_sr_2 

Visual aids: https://www.tumblr.com/search/coco+chanel+%26+igor+stravinsky

It's one of the most beautiful films I've ever seen - the cinematography is just gorgeous. And it's incredibly sexy, particularly if you like Mads Mikkelsen and music, which of course I do! Anyway, it's a fictional story about the composer Igor Stravinsky having an affair with Coco Chanel in the 1920s - he and his wife Katia and their children lived with Chanel in her country house outside Paris. After the First World War and the Russian Revolution their family was unable to go back to Russia and lived in various places. Katia was also diagnosed with tuberculosis (although she lived until 1939).

 

#16 - Three
Fandom/Original: Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky (film)
Characters: Coco Chanel, Igor Stravinsky, Katia Stravinskaya
Pairings: Coco Chanel/Igor Stravinsky
Fetish: Igor (cold)
Word Count: 231

He grimaced at the handwritten score in front of him, complicated harmonic lines crossing and interweaving with one another, covered in pencilled corrections and changes. He couldn’t think. One of the drivers had been sniffling in the car and, sure enough, a few days later he had woken with a pounding headache, sore throat, and a general feeling that the world was ending.

He couldn’t risk making Katia’s condition worse, but he had assured her it would only be for a few days. She’d cried as he kissed the top of her head. She seemed to cry at everything nowadays. Coco was entirely bereft of any maternal instinct; one sneeze and she had decided to spend the week in the Paris shop. She had written him a note left on the piano. I hope your cold is better, the last line read. So the three of them, their lives so closely entwined, were forced briefly apart.

He took a hot bath in the hope of clearing his blocked sinuses. It worked, in a way; inhaling the warm, fragrant steam curling up around him.

“Hih’SSHAAA!! H’ISSSHH’OO!!” He sneezed and sneezed: tremendous, explosive sneezes that defied containment and echoed around the tiled room. Brow furrowed, eyes closed, barely able to snatch a breath, he continued uncontrollably. “H’ISSSHH!! H’SHOOO!! H’ISSSHHOOO!! ISSSHHOO!!” But when the fit finally ended, his head did feel a little clearer.

 

 

 

#5 - Pencil
Fandom/Original: Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky (film)
Characters: Coco Chanel, Igor Stravinsky, Katia Stravinskaya
Pairings: Coco Chanel/Igor Stravinsky
Fetish: Igor (cold)
Word Count: 191

Now back at his music he felt more stupid than ever. The piano’s notes were slightly muffled by the congestion still clogging his head, and he couldn’t concentrate on the score well enough to truly hear the harmonies. The pencil markings blurred and wandered the page, incomprehensible. His nose was streaming; every few seconds was punctuated by an irritated sniff as he scribbled down a few more notes or played an isolated fragment on the piano. And he was further disturbed by a constant, lingering need to sneeze, each sniff magnifying it until it finally grew too much.

“Huh’SHHHAA!!” Dabbing at his nose with a linen handkerchief, he continued to write, frustrated at this interruption. But it was no good, less than a minute later he was forced to stop again as his breath caught and his eyebrows knitted together.

“H’ISSSHHOOO!! H’ISSSSHOOOO!!” He paused, handkerchief raised, eyelids fluttering, mouth slightly open, waiting for the next thunderous sneeze which remained teasingly just out of reach. He took a shaky breath and at last something pushed him over the edge. “H’ISSSSHHOOO!!!” Furious, he threw his pencil aside and stormed out of the room.

 

Edited January 2, 2018 by Katrelle

[Triosk1]

One more! This is from some happy AU (or future) Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them world where Newt & Tina are together, Jacob and Queenie are together, and they all live in one happy wonderful New York apartment.

 

 

#3 - Frightened
Fandom/Original: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (film)
Characters: Newt Scamander, Queenie Goldstein, Jacob Kowalski, Tina Goldstein
Pairings: Newt and Tina (implied)
Fetish: Newt (allergy)
Word Count: 307

“What’cha got in the box?” Jacob asked as Newt entered the apartment in an excited blur. It was dinner-time, and Tina had just got back from work and was sitting reading a book. Queenie stood in the kitchen, happily whisking her wand in circles around her as food flew in all directions.

“It’s an Appaloosan Puffskein,” panted Newt, out of breath from hauling his travelling case and the box up several flights of stairs.

“I thought you were only pretending to look for one of those as a cover.” Tina looked up from her book suspiciously.

“I was,” admitted Newt. “But then I started reading about them, you know, in case anyone asked me about them. And they’re absolutely amazing creatures.” Tina rolled her eyes.

Newt set up his case, still talking. “They have this incredible self-defence mechanism when they’re frightened – they release a cloud of tiny hairs into the air to distract the enemy. And they bite.” His voice became muffled as he descended into the bag, still holding the closed cardboard box. The case snapped shut behind him.

A few minutes later, there was a muffled “Ow!” from the bag, which then became to quiver violently. Shortly afterwards, Newt emerged, looking dazed. He paused, halfway out of the bag, blinked slowly, then sneezed several times. His upper body was covered in a fine yellow dust.

“K’tchu!! Heh’kshu! Tshoo!!”

“Gesundheit,” said Jacob, offering Newt an arm to help him up. Newt accepted, still sneezing; quick, itchy, breathy sneezes that showed no sign of slowing or stopping.

“Hih’tchu! Heh’tshu! K’tchu!!...Hih’kshu!!” During a brief moment of respite, Newt looked around himself, beaming. “Fascinating,” he said, before sneezing again. “Hih’tchu!!”

“What’s fascinating, hon?” asked Queenie from the kitchen. Jacob handed Newt his handkerchief.

“Well, I…Hih’tchoo!! I think I must have frightened it!” Newt said triumphantly. “It is…heh…heh’kshu!!...certainly very distracting.”