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Lelio & Isabella (M)


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Hey all. So after some time of dreaming up little scenarios, I’ve decided to play around more with Ross and Jillian, a couple of my fave OC’s. To make things more organized, I’ll post them all here. Sorry for any mistakes, and I hope you enjoy. <3


Te Necesitan, Te Necesitamos


The drama department is my favourite department in the school for multiple reasons. One example being that Jackson let us get away with tiny uniform slips, such as wearing a hoodie over the navy blue polo or wearing grey sweatpants. Or wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, et cetera, et cetera. Another is that the department was more lenient with noise and conversation. One didn’t have to whisper in order to get help with homework, that is if one wasn’t already copying answers. Well - Jackson often picked up on that. Luckily for the department, drama students were diverse in their other courses of study, ready to lend a helping hand to those in need of it.


“*sddrff!* so thed... *sddf* we cross out the odes that- hahh *sddrff!* repeat add thed... *sddf, sdf* ub... hehh, sorry...” Ross’ voice is low and damp with congestion. “Hiehhh... *snddff! Ughh...” I can imagine the image of him as he pulls out a worn out cloth and holds it to his nose before- “HRRRESCHHHhhieww!! Huh! HYESSSHHIEWW!! *snnrff* unhh... sorry. Excuse be. *ahem*”


“Bless you. You okay, man?”


“Yeah, by allergies are just... hyiehh’TSCHHhh!!-ioo, just crazy today... ugh.”


After a few minutes, I see Ross’ tiny man bun over the top of the stage doors’ stairs railing as he walks through the back hall. He comes over and plops down next to me on the stairs. “Hey Jill. *sddf!*”


I kiss him softly on the cheek. “Hey, how’re you feeling?”


“Dot- huh’TSCHHhieww!! Great. I cad’t huhh-“ Ross eyes close as his rubs his red nose. “Cad’t stob- huh’USSCHHuhh!! sdeezig... Ughh... by beds ared’t workig- ah’TSCHHh!!-huh’TSCHHhh!! Huhhhh....


I rub his back as he groans with discomfort, sniffling and snuffling wetly. He dabs at his teary eyes, which are pink and itchy-looking. “*sdff* I did’t thigk the trees would have be this bad... *sddrff* hahh...” his nostrils flare again, his eyelids fluttering. He raises his handkerchief quickly. “Ah’TSCHHFF!!-Huh’TSCHHIUU!!-AYYESSCHHUHHh!!”


“Let’s go somewhere else then.”


Ross sighs and leans back. “I have tech dext period. Hhh... *sddrff* I deed to leard the cues for the asse’bly cuz- hheh- cuz I bissed theb- last tibe- hah!” His nose twitches furiously, and he quickly holds up his handkerchief. “HRESSSCHHIEWW!! Uh- huh’- huh’JDSCHHHhh!!*snnrkk* ughhh...” he sits up and sniffles several times. “Fuck... *snnrfff* ughh... ahhuhhh...” his eyes are shut again, his nose wrinkling, twitching, looking so, so itchy. “I-huh- I ju’hgg’-huh! HYESSSHHHIEWW!! Hiehhh, HAESSSCHHIEWW!! *snnnnnrff* ohhh...”


“Why’d you miss the cues before?” I ask gently.


“Cuz I was sdeezig too much... I could’t be id the caf without... *sddf* sdeezig every five secods. So I- ahh- huh’TSCHHuhh!! Took bedicide this tibe, add- huh’CHIEWW!! So I could sdop... *ahem* sdeezig...” he pauses for a bit to catch his breath. “But I- hep’TCHIEWW!!ah’TSCHIOO!!” He sneezes helplessly, his frame jerking forward. He groans and runs his hands over his face. “Fucki’g... Christbas trees.... *snnrfl*” Ross sniffles hard, his nose wrinkling. “Unhh, I did’t thig the polled would spread everywhere... “ He rubs his nose hard, squishing it against his wrist. 


“So tell them to get rid of them.” I say.


Ross coughs out a laugh. “Add ruid Christbas? Cad- ahhuh- c-cahh-d you- ihhbahhgih-huh’-! heH’GXxnn!’chuh- Ah’KxXNTCH!’uhhh...”


I stroke his hair and speak softly. “Don’t do that....”


“Sé, pero ellos son demasiado grande...” I can barely hear what he mutters, as fusses at his nose.


I get up off the stairs. “Fine, then I’ll tell Jackson you’re allergic. He’s got to understand.”


Ross looks defeated. He lies back across the staircase, clutching his handkerchief in one hand as he presses a curled knuckle to his nose. He lowers his hand, sniffs, and clear his throat. “No creo que este es un-“


“Oh, shush. We could just get fake ones.”


Ross stares at me blankly. “Te amo en serio.”


I grin.


“Pero ¿que haced cod esos?” He wonders aloud. (What do they do with those?)


“Ummm... sell them? Or give them away.”


Ross lies back and sighs. “Pero como- *snrff*” he leans forward and rests his arms on his knees. “Ellos ya compraron los árboles. No hay razón de tíralos.” Oh boy.


I walk up to him, wearing a gentle smile. His expression softens as he looks up at me, eyes pink and watery. “No?” He says softly.


I take both his hands and squeeze them. I I bow my head, and mumble sheepishly, “I don’t understand.” I’ve been trying to learn more Spanish words since we’ve been hanging out more this year, but I’m not fluent yet.


He kisses my hand, and tells me that since the school already paid, there’s no reason to throw out the trees.


“Couldn’t we have a sale?” I imagine selling them outside wouldn’t be a bad idea. We could raise money for drama.


“*snnf* I don’t want it to be a huge deal. Maybe I should just not be part of the show.” He says, letting go of my left hand to rub his nose. “*snnrff* ehh’- hah’TSCHIEWW!! *sddf*” Ross rubs his nose hard, and sniffles, looking so tolerantly miserable. “I’ll wait udtil after add thed I’ll cobe back.”


“But I’ll miss you.” I say softly. I’m selfish.


Ross, looking tired and at a loss for words, pauses again as his breath starts to hitch.  His nose wrinkles before he turns to sneeze into the crook of his arm. “Huh’ISSSSCHHIEWW!! Huh’YISSSCHHIUHhh!! *snnrff* uhhh... *snndrff*” he sniffles harshly, as his nose won’t stop running. “Let’s talk sobewhere else before dext period. *sddrff* I’b dyig.”


I smile sympathetically. I wish there was a way we could solve this without removing him from the show.




We walk down the hall to the water fountain, where Ross takes a long drink.


“I mean, I guess I could say that other people could be allergic.”


Ross straightens up, and wipes his chin. “Well, I don’t want it to be a big deal, it took a lot of manpower getting those in.”


“Still. Plus, without Harris this year, you’re the only one who knows how to work the controls properly.”


Ross makes a face, like ‘yeah, you’re not wrong’.


“Unless you want Finn in that chair.”


That makes him cringe harder, until he turns it over in his head. “Finn’s not bad. *snf!”


I didn’t expect that. “He can’t do it by himself!”


We wander into the back hall, where the hall monitors rarely go, and sit down on opposite sides of the lockers facing each other. Ross pulls out the hair tie securing his long-ish hair and runs a hand through it, combing it back over his head. His hair grows really fast, I’ve noticed. I think he cut it a couple of weeks ago and here he it’s, tying it up in a tiny bush.


There’s a tumblr post that I’ve read some time ago online that said: “if he’s ugly after a haircut, he’s just a crush”.


I look at Ross’ long hair now, dark brown - almost black. I like it better longer than short. Still, the broccoli undercut wasn’t bad.


“Maybe as long as I don’t stay too long in the theatre. *snf!* Cuz all day, I get really bad.” Ross thinks aloud.


“That could work, I guess.”


Ross sniffles again, rubbing hard at his itchy nose. “No quiero ser un problema.” He says quietly, a sad grin tugging at the corner of his lips.


“You aren’t one!” I wish I was quicker in Spanish. “Te necesitan. Te necesitamos.” 


Ross smiles teasingly, and starts going off in the sing-songy tone Jackson uses when I practice in drama. “Te amo, me amas, nos amamos, nos aman, uste-“ I tackle him with arms outstretched, and I feel the deep rumble in his chest as he laughs.


“Shut up, okay?” I squeak, squeezing him hard so he can’t speak.


“Oof! Okay! Ow! Jill! I need my lungs!” He wails. I loosen my grip.


“You mean ‘yo necesito’ my lungs?” 


“Mis pulmones.” He gasps. I feel his frame rise and fall as he breathes deeply, sitting close together by the lockers. There’s work we both have to do for class, but it’s too late in the day to submit anything.


Ross stretches the hair tie with his fingers. “I gotta go soon.” He yawns, putting a hand over my arm that’s around his stomach.


“You’re stuck.” I mumble, not budging.


“I’ll take you with me.”


“No. Stay here.” I don’t want him to go back and suffer.


“Alright.” With my arms still around him, I feel his frame rise and one of his arms comes quickly under my shoulder and back, the other under my knees. And - he picks me up?! Ross carries me like a log and lumberjack, striding down the hall towards the drama department.


“What?! Put me down!” I shriek, my face growing hot. “Ross!” His chest rumbles with more laughs.

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Yummm verrrry very very nice! I love the Spanish talked parts and the sneeze spellings!! 
Thanks so much for sharing! I really appreciated it 😍

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This was very 'muy caliente'! Very nice and simple with amazing detail!

I really do hope you continue this or these characters elsewhere. :D

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Hi, thanks for your feedback guys. Ahh ☺️

Just in case (and for organizational purposes) I’ll post a list of links to the other chapters surrounding this story right here in order:

Hairspray - https://www.sneezefetishforum.com/topic/73208-hairspray-one-shot-m/?tab=comments

Not Until Opening Night - https://www.sneezefetishforum.com/topic/73269-not-until-opening-night-m/?tab=comments

“Joe, you’re the best” - https://www.sneezefetishforum.com/topic/73432-“joe-you’re-the-best”-m-another-instalment-of-ross/

Look Less Dead - https://www.sneezefetishforum.com/topic/74924-look-less-dead-m-another-ross-story/

Amor - https://www.sneezefetishforum.com/topic/76504-amor/



That’s better. I should have done that a while ago.
Again, thanks for reading and I’ll be back soon with more. :) I hope you all have a wonderful day!


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Hiya. Hope you guys like the next part. Happy Thursday~

The heat of May


EEISSSHHUE!!” A loud sneeze tells me that Ross is just around the corner playing soccer with the guys. There he is, still managing to look hot while drenched in sweat from the heat of May, his teal shirt sticking to him and a few strands of his hair falling before his squinted gaze. “Hahh’ESSHHUHhh!!” He pulls the hem of his shirt up to cover his nose. He lets it drop, sniffling. “Oh hey, Jill. *sdf!* Wanna play?” He squints and shades his eyes from the sun.

“No thanks.” I chuckle. 

He sniffles wetly and clears his throat. “You ask Jackson if we could use the costumes for our project?”

“Not yet. Maybe after lunch.”

“*snff* Okay. Hih! Hih’TSCHHIEWW!! *sdf*” he turns away and let’s out an uncovered sneeze. “Oh, Jesus.”

“You take your meds today?” I ask, half concerned and half wittily.

“Uh, yeah. I guess being outside kind of ruins it. *snff*” he rubs hard at his nose. “I’ll talk to you later, I guess. Sure you don’t wanna play?” He asks, with a small smile.

“Yeah. I’ll just watch.”

Ross’ eyes are narrowing, his nostrils flaring again. “Huh’AESSHHIOO!! Lord above.” He chuckles breathlessly. “Cad’t stop.” He wipes his eyes, and sniffs. “Quizás es por eso sigo perdiendo.” He flashes me his boyish grin, and runs off back to the field.

“Don’t die, now!” I call after him.

He turns, mid run. “¡Sin promesas!’

I just smile and shake my head. He’s so cute. Later, I walk with him back towards the school. He’s still sweaty, and sniffly, rubbing at his nose with his fingers. He keeps sniffling hard.

“You okay?” I question softly.

“Yeah,” he says, but his nostrils are flaring again. “Hold od, I- Huh’GxXMktt!! Ohh...” I look up at him, worried. I’ve never heard him stifle like that unless he was in class.

“Ow.” I say.

He keeps sniffling and rubbing his nose. “I feel like... *snddrf* hhih’GxXnKtchh!!-uhhh I’b godda have a big fit.”

I put my hand on his back. It’s warm and damp with sweat. “Now?” I prepare to usher him to the bathroom.

“Doe,” he shakes his head. “But like,” he blinks hard. “Sood.” I don’t know what that means.

We agree to check in at home room and meet back in the drama room for next period. When I get there, Ross is no where to be seen. I see Andy over on the couch, and walk over.

“Hey, have you seen Ross?” I ask him.

“Oh yeah.” Andy says. “He’s in the back, changing.”

“Okay.” I suppose that’s good. I head towards the back hall of drama, swinging my lanyard around. “Ro-ossss.” I call out.

Hah’Ischh!! ISSHHh!! Hup’ESSSHHIU!!” 

I hear rapid sneezing coming from the makeup room. “Ross?”

“*sddf* Hah- hah’TSCHHIUU!!

I knock on the makeup room door.

“Occu- ahem- occupied.” Ross’ voice responds, sounding more tired and nasal.

“Babe, it’s me.”



“Ode secod.” I hear some shuffling around, some stray sniffles, and finally the door opens.

I enter slowly. Ross is sitting on the makeup counter, shirtless, the his eyes teary and pink, and his nose twitchy and a sore red. Then I notice his shirt is in his lap, and his handkerchief held in both hands. “Hey,” he says, one eye closing suddenly and then both close as his frame swells with hitching breaths. “HEEISHHHIEWW!! EEEISCHHHIU!!-IISCHHIEWW!! Uhh...” he quickly throws his undershirt on, sniffling wetly. He takes his handkerchief and blows into it briefly.

“Bless you. You good?”

His eyes are already narrowing again, his red nostrils flaring. Before he can sneeze, I put my index finger beneath his septum. The hitching stops. He looks down, confused, and then exhales.

“Thagks. *sdf*” I remove my finger. Ross sniffles thickly, and runs a hand through his unruly hair. “Damb allergies, mbad...” he murmurs, rubbing his face with both hands. I touch his face, gently, and take one of his hands in mine. 

Ross looks up at me with sore-looking eyes, like he’s wondering why I’m still coming close. His gaze averts, and he rubs his nose with a curled knuckle. “I don’t look... gross, to you right now?” He asks, as if the answer is an obvious yes. Which is new - since I’d never said it before. Hair dishevelled, nose red and runny, eyes shining with allergic tears. His toned arms revealed wearing a white tank top. 

I don’t realize my lips have been parted for the last few seconds, and blink back to reality, to this reality, where I might just be realizing something.

The desperate look quickly returns to his face, and one hand rises to pinch his nose. “Hah’GXNSCHH!!-Hah’YISSCHHHUHHhh!! *sddrff!* oh, exguse be... Jesus... hehh... HAAESSSHHHIE!! Uhh...” he sighs, and rubs his nose, but then- “oh fuck.” His pink eyes widen at the wet stain on my navy shirt. “Jillian, I’b so sorry *sddf* Oh god baybe I have adother shirt- holy shit babe I did’t bead to-“

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” I take off the shirt in a swift motion. Underneath, I’m wearing a yellow lacy tank top. His sentence is stopped in its tracks. 

“B... are you sure?” He sniffles, staring at me. Slowly, I move toward him. “You’re not gr-“

“Yeah, hon. Jackson doesn’t care about uniform, does he?” I say softly, my breath warm on his face. I nibble his ear. His hand comes up to hold my waist.

“I... I guess dot, but...” I go for it, and we start making out on the makeup counter. “He will care if- we’re dot- mm...” he moans softly.

“Not what?” I breathe.

“Dot wearig- adythig-“ he mumbles between kisses. He pulls away a little. “HRRISCHHhh!! HRRRISSHHIEWW!! Sorry...” he whispers a soon as he can get a breath.

“Don’t worry about it...” I say and shut the makeup room door. “Jackson doesn’t have to know.”

I lean in and kiss him softly. He moves away a little and rubs his nose. “Huhh,” his eyelids flutter. “Hih’TSCHhh!!- ugh. *sddrf* Ah, I have to ihh... hold od...” his frame rises and falls for a couple of seconds, as an intense look of desperation fills his facial expression. I move back a little to give him space.  “ITSCHHIUHHhh!!” He sneezes, loudly, and so suddenly that I jump. He sneezes again, just as hard, as if finally letting loose after holding back. “HAAESSCHHIEWW!!” He exhales and then sniffles wetly, bringing both of his palms to his eyes to wipe away allergic tears. “Ahh, shit. *snnff!*”

“You okay?” I half giggle.

“Yeah, uh-huh...” he sniffles, dazed. That actually felt really good.”


He kisses me again, softly. “Yeah.”

“You’re so hot.” I murmur.

His chuckle rumbles deep from his chest. He moans softly, as I kiss him harder. It becomes hot and intense, one of his hands at my jaw. My arms are thrown around his shoulders. A soft sound emerges from his throat. This feels good. I moan too, and keep kissing him. 

“Hmm,” for a split second he tries to turn, but then- “HhhnN’yESSHHIUHh!!” He helplessly sneezes, a spray hitting me right in the face. 

His face looks horrified, and he jumps back. Me, a little shocked, I’m just sitting there frozen. “Oh shit. Oh, ‘sus Baria ed Espadya- Fuck- fuck I’b- I’b fucking sorry-“ he starts talking fast, grabbing for the nearest cloth (which happens to be my discarded uniform shirt) to wipe my face.

“Babe,” I say, wiping my face a little. “Babe, it’s okay. Really.”

Ross sits there speechless, not knowing what to say or do, and I’m afraid he’s going to leave. I wouldn’t blame him. All the ‘it’s ok’s and ‘sorry’s in the world won’t rewind what just happened. Slowly, he bows his head. “...Fuck.” He mutters, and exhales long and hard, burying his face in his hands. His entire face is red, even his ears. He head butts me gently, avoiding my gaze, and I know he knows it’s fine, he’s just not used to it. 

I run my fingers through the messy strands of hair that fall just before his eyes, and kiss the top of his head. “Ross, baby.” I chuckle. “You’re not even from Spain.”

“I know.” He says, muffled into his hands. He looks up at me, face still tomato-red. “You’re- *snnff*” he pauses. “You’re really dot grossed out?” He asks for the millionth time. “I just, I sdeezed on you, and your shirt, and-“ he glances at me questioningly, with wide eyes. “No?”

I smile a little and vaguely shake my head.

“You freak.” He teases.

“Shut up.” I push his head away. He laughs, and then starts to cough over the congestion. 

“You’re not gross.” I say, like it couldn’t be clearer to me. “I promise. You’re not.” I squeeze his hand.

Ross sniffles hard, and after a moment, goes serious. He shakes his head. “I- ... you’re- ...” He starts to say. He turns to look at me, and I stare back into his dark eyes. There’s a new kind of wonder there in his expression, in the air, something that’s made the air go thin. He glances down at our hands, one of his on top of mine... and looks at me again. Then he quickly leans forward to kiss me on the lips.



Until next time... <3

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  • 1 month later...

Hey everyone. I hope you’re all safe and well, and that you’re taking care of yourselves. <3 In my down time, I came back to this bit, which I started a while ago and decided to finish up. It might be shabby, but it was fun revisiting the stage vibes. Also featuring a good one, A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams. :)



Maldita Suerte


Ross’ hair looks shiny in the soft light backstage. His skin looks like that of a pale porcelain doll. Although not as drastic as that time when when Steve picked up some stage makeup about ten shades too light, he could conform to the nickname that Mrs. Chan often called him: Caspar The Ghost. Black eyeliner shadows beneath his eyes, as instructed, for the effect that they would look bigger from farther away. He sits still near the props, clearing his throat and brushing a knuckle under his pale nose. 


Andy is onstage, rehearsing a scene with Jessica. He’s playing the role of Stanley from Streetcar Named Desire, and Jessica is playing Blanche. Andy pounds his fist on the table, making everyone backstage jump.


“Oh!” Jessica shrieks.


Hhgk’NxXgg!!-unhh... *snf*” Ross sniffles. 


I suppose all the dust we’ve been kicking up by unearthing the props and furniture for Streetcar has been making him sneeze. He sniffles delicately, and goes on watching.


“Some awful thing will happen, it will..”


“What?” Andy growls.


I hear Ross sniffling and rubbing his nose, sounding a little frustrated, trying to be quiet.


“I‘m warning you, I’m in danger!” Jessica shouts, sticking out a plunger towards Andy. The plunger we replaced the broken bottle with since the shards would have been dangerous. Jessica backs further stage right, Andy advancing like a tiger. I swear, Jessica has some serious talent onstage. 


“What’s that for? Cleaning now?”


“I’ll hit you with it.”


Somewhere behind me in the dark, I hear Ross scoff a quiet laugh. I peek over. He sniffs and blinks. I really shouldn’t be staring. Then luckily I forget I am, because Andy roars- I turn back to see him carrying Jessica horizontally in both arms, and drop her onto the bed stage left.


“Drop it! Drop it!” He snarls, so much like a predator that I’m scared for a moment- and then the trumpets of the band squeal and the lights black out onstage.


“Go go, scene eleven.” Helen hisses.


The set crew rushes to set up the living room setting, with the table and cards. In a span of twenty seconds, I’m pretending to pack a suitcase, waiting for my cue.


“Maldita sea to suerte!” Ross exclaims as Pablo, throwing down his cards.


“Put it in English, please.” Andy huffs.


Ross scoffs dramatically and puts on his heavy Colombian accent. “I am cursing your rutting luck.” 


“You know what luck is?” Andy booms.


“Es lo que tuve anoche, muchacho.” Ross says quickly, under his breath. 


Huh? When I look up, a smirk is playing on his features.


“Ross,” Mrs. Chan says.


“Sorry.” He clears his throat.


Andy continues his line. I zone out for a second, then I hear Ross sniffle. At a pause where Jackson is making a note, Andy claps him on the shoulder.


“Y’okay, bud?”


Ross sniffles again and wrinkles his nose. “Mhm. *snf*”


Steve stutters out his line - my cue to go across to join Jessica.


Huh’Nxgkk!-tuhh... *sdf*”


“Bless you!!” A few people shout. Ross goes a bit red and chuckles.


“Thank you.”


I glance over at Ross, who at a first glance looks pretty chill. But looking closer, he’s breathing mostly through his mouth, meaning - and another wet sniffle is a dead giveaway - he must be pretty stuffed. His hand comes up to rub hard at his nose, the nose that’s been red any time he set foot on the stage - I guess except for now, in which case he’d have to be careful not to completely rub off the makeup. The next moment, his eyelids flutter, in an express of utter defeat, as Ross only had the time to lift his fist. “eei’Esshieww!! *sdf* *snrff*” It’s so restrained, I feel a rush of sympathy for him.


“Bless you!” Again.


“Thank you... *sngrk*”


Rehearsal ends after we finish the scene, rounding out at about five o’clock. Backstage I find Ross in a black t-shirt and jeans, taping up some rope lights.


“They fell again. Even after we got the uh, *sdf* expensive tape.”


“Hope it stays this time.” I kiss him on the cheek, his skin soft after having removed the makeup. Now I can see how red his nose had gotten, and it makes my heart sink a little.


“Hih,” his eyes go distant, then he ducks away from me. “Hih’ESSCHHh!! *sdf* bless me.” he says, sounding a bit breathless.


 I rub his back. “You okay?”


“Yeah, just allergies. *snf!* One of the guys must’ve sprayed axe in drama *snnf* cuz I was there and my nose wouldn’t stop running. *snnrf!*”


“It smells like seventh grade in there,” Andy adds, untangling some more rope lights.


Oof. That brings up memories. “Quentin, right?”


Without missing a beat, Ross answers- “Oh, yeah. Definitely.”


When he finishes the lights, he sits down on a stool. His hair is still in place with the gel, and his eyes have a faint shadow from the removed eyeliner. His eyes narrow, and he rubs his nose with a curled knuckle.


“Good run today.” Andy says, before leaving through the backstage doors. After the heavy sound of the doors closing, there’s quiet. I turn to look at Ross, whose face has gone full pre-sneeze. His shoulders start to rise and fall with uneven breathes.


Hah’- AESSHHIUHHhh!!” Ross finally lets loose, luxuriously, now that it’s just us. 


“Damn, bl-“


“Bless you!” A muffled shout through the wall. Andy. I see Ross hide a grin behind his hands, sniffling thickly.


“Thangk you! ...uck. *sdrf*” Ross stops rubbing his nose and allows his hand to drop, revealing his face had turned a tad redder.


I come up and gently touch his shoulder. “Wanna go home now?”


Ross sniffles, not looking at me. After a bit, he answers softly, his voice laced with congestion. “I- hehh... I duddo. *snrff!* My mom’s boyfrie’d is usually over dow- huh’ESCHh!!-unh.. *sdf*” 


He lets out a long sigh and rubs hard at his nose. I touch the edge of his fringe, which is a little hard with gel. Lightly, I stroke it with my thumb. I can imagine why being backstage makes him so sneezy, especially during spring. There’s dust everywhere, being kicked up when things are moved, plus everything is so old. Hairspray and perfume are a whiff away. That’s a lot for the flimsy store brand he takes to combat. Ross rubs stubbornly at his nose, like he’s tired of sneezing all afternoon. “Ack’TSCHHIEWW!!” He leans off to the side to sneeze again, hard.


“Ugh.” He blinks, his eyes pink and glassy. “*sdff* I thigk I mbight die if I go idto drama ndow. *sdrf!*” He chuckles, and sniffles wetly. “Huhh’- ! Unhhh...” He builds up breathily, but ends with a lengthy sigh, sounding tired and itchy.


“Come over.” I hear myself say.


Ross tilts his head up to look at me. “Sure?” he breathes.


“Mhm.” I know my parents will be pissed with me for not giving them a heads up, but I’ll tell them it’s for a project. Ross sniffles, and lowers his gaze. 


“*snf* ....Okay.”

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This is really good! Love how embarrassed he is by his sneezes and how she's so sweet about it!! 

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  • 10 months later...

Yeah, so um. Here. Hope you guys like. xoxo





A late summer afternoon. August. A clear, beautiful day. Perfect for sitting on the grass. Ross lightly holds the middle of the flower to his nose and inhales. He coughs a little and lowers it, pressing two fingers under his nose. Strands of his dark hair, getting long again, tumble over over his forehead. 


“Oh gosh.” A smile is lingering on his devilishly handsome face. I giggle, eagerly watching. Slowly, he holds it up to his nose again and breathes in. And out. The flower petals descend. His shoulders rise. “Huh’-“ a quiet hitch, his eyes close- “Huh’ISCHH!!” His head snaps forward with a ticklish-sounding sneeze. “Unhh,” he exhales, and sniffles delicately. 


“Aww, bless you. How... how does it feel?” I ask softly.


“Hunhh, it feels like...” he raises the petals to his face again. He breathes in. “Hehh... hhit smells... oh.” His brows furrow for a second, and his nostrils flare. “Hih’TSCHH!!-ohh, smells so sweet...” he sneezes into the flower, the top of his nose getting lightly coated in yellow pollen. His nostrils start to twinge. “Hhhh... it makes me hehh...” he finally ducks away from the flower to rub his wriggling nose, looking positively itchy. “Hhuhh.... Ah’ISSCHHhh!! *snf*” he starts to sniffle, his nose gaining a reddish hue. “Makes me feel, um... sneezy. *snrf!*”


He leans in to sniff it one more time. A long, deep inhale. His brows crumple, his breath coming unpredictable and choppy. “Huh! Huhh, huh!” He quickly ducks into the crook of his elbow. “HURRSCHHhh!!” Oof. That one was with his whole chest. HURRRISSHHhhioo!! *snrf* Ohh... *snrff”




“Uhh... Uh huh... *snrff!*” His eyes are still narrowed, his nostrils rosy red and flaring wide. “Huh... *snf*” He starts to sniffle more constantly, the need to sneeze becoming more urgent. “Hih’TDSCHHh!! *snrk* Huh’- huh’isSCHhioo!! Oh.” He sniffles wetly rubs fiercely at his nose, making some squelching sounds. “Oh gosh.” He chuckles, rubbing and pinching his nose.


“You’re so cute.” He laughs some more when I say that, his face going red. God, he’s gorgeous.


“*snff!* Okay.” He takes the flower once more and holds the middle of it up to his nose, the petals brushing his cheeks and chin. His eyes close. “Uhhhh...” his breath hitches dramatically, and I giggle. A hint of a smile plays on his lips when hears me. He lowers the flower, eyes still shut, shaking his head trying to coax out a sneeze. “Huh’JDSCHH!! *snnrk*” He sneezes freely, powerfully. He pinches his nose again, his nose running like crazy after that one. “Oh.... I thigk I deehhd.... Huh’JDSCHhioo!! A tissue.... *sdrff!*” He blinks, his eyes glassy with allergic tears.


I pull one from my bag and hand it to him. “*snrff* hhthagks.” He folds it and blows his nose, producing gurgling sounds. When he’s done, his nose is a nice shade of scarlet, still a little sniffly. “Ahhh... *snf*” He continues to rub hard at his nose. Man, he looks itchy. It might not have been the best idea sticking his nose directly in the flower. “HAASHHhhioo!! *snrk*” Rub, rub, rub. 


Then... oh, does he dare? He takes one more sniff from the flower, and immediately sneezes-


EESCHH!! *snrg* hehhh....” his nose squeaks with more hard rubs. “Huhh....Hng’JDSCHHieww!! *snrk* unhhh...” 


“Okay, I’m going to take that from you now.” Smiling, I pluck the flower from his grip and he uses his now free hand to rub his nose.


“Huhh... ohh by gosh... huh’- ehht’isSCHUHhh!! *snrff* ohh... *snnrf*” he nods the hair out of his face, and combs it back with his fingers. “Ahhh... *snrf* So. How’s that?” He asks, grinning adorably.


“Gorgeous.” I can’t stop smiling, taking in this beautiful allergic sight of my boyfriend. Clandestinely, I smear my index finger against the pollen-filled centre of the flower.


“Ahh’- heh’KSCHHieww!! *snnrff* hehh’thagk you...” he sniffles, his eyes narrowing with the hint of the next sneeze. I lean forward and press my index finger under his flaring nostrils. “Ehh’-!unh. Oh, doe.” 


“Ha ha.” I tease, watching his eyelids flutter over teary eyes. 


“Hahh.... I will so sdeeze od you.” He tries to sniffle, but my finger is there. His nose starts to drip. “Oh gosh. Babe,” His nostrils flare against my finger.




“Hehh- gohh- hhgodda... hh!” I take away my finger. He looks up at me in bewilderment, but his nose, dusted with the yellow grains of pollen, twinges. “ESSSHHIOO!! Hehh hohhld ohh- hyY’ESCHhioo!! Holy shit. *snrff*” his eyes squeeze shut. “Hih’ESSCHH!! *snrk* Ohh, by gosh. That was idtedse.” His voice is so deep, it’s like it could get carried away with the breeze. He picks up the tissue and blows his nose. “*snrf* ahh...” he sniffles.


“Ross, babe?”


“Ye?” His eyes peek at me over the tissue.


I lean close, my chin resting on my hands. I stare at his red, sniffly nose. “You’re cute.”


“Hehh... *snnrf* ....Yeah I ab.” Right in front of my eyes, Ross’ nose twinges and he quickly rubs it, sniffling wetly. He exhales stuffily, and keeps rubbing his nose, looking truly allergic. “*snrk* huh! Uh’pTSCHhh!! *snrk!* *snnrff*” He coughs and sniffles.


I put my hand on his face and kiss his cheek. “Time to go?” I say softly.


“Albost.” Ross clears his throat more thoroughly and wipes his eyes. I watch him, entranced by how perfect he is. He blinks his glassy eyes, and they narrow as his shoulders continue to hitch steadily. He stares somewhere off into the distance, his nostrils flared, deeply flushed from rubbing. He blinks slowly. “I... I thigk there’s ode bore, buhht... ahh... *snnrk*” he sniffles hard and dabs at his overflowing eyes with his sleeve. I think he realizes again how vulnerable he is right now, because he snuffles and laughs. “Fugck. *snnrff*” He bows his head, blushing, still trying to sneeze but nothing comes. I can’t stop the grin that pulls the corners of my lips.


“Babe,” I breathe. He holds up his index finger.


“Heuhh,” His breath hitches, and he waits a few seconds. After a bit, he stops and exhales. “*snrf* Baybe *ahem* we should go dow.” He croaks, looking down.


“Oh.” I hide my disappointment. I start to get up, but-


“Wait. Hahh- Ah’- Huh’JDSCHHhiuhh!! Huh’ISCHHioo!! Heh’GXSCHHh-ioo!!” Ross suddenly erupts desperately, into open air. The spray is revealed in the golden dusk, leaving me speechless for a second. “Hahh’- HUURRRSCHHhioo!! *snnnrff, snf, snnnrff*” He blinks his watery eyes, sniffling frantically, and I can see tiny droplets caught in his eyelashes. 


“Oh my god, bless you!”


He quickly grabs a tissue from the packet and unfolds it, then refolds it in half to blow his nose. “Heh, Jesus. *snrf*” He chuckles, and coughs over the congestion.  He wrinkles his red nose, which by now looks swollen. He sniffles and rubs it hard in an upward swipe. “Okay... *ahemm~* *sdrf* dow I’b ready to go.”



Haven't posted in a while, so hope everyone is doing okay ❤️

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  • 4 weeks later...
  • 2 months later...

Hey all. Back with another short bit. Hope y'all have been doing well <3


Basement Chronicles: Quest of the Dress





“*snrf* Hhh… *sdf* ugh.” I hate the start of an allergy attack. My eyes ache, pleading to be rubbed, and my nose is running already. It’s like with every sniffle, my nose seems to tickle more. Part of me wishes that this is as bad as it gets. Just itchy eyes and a bit of a runny nose. “Ahh… *sdf*” My nose is getting stuffier. I sniffle and breathe through my mouth. That doesn't make it tickle any less. The upper and inner membranes of my nostrils are the itchiest, and will make me want to sneeze within a matter of seconds, although I can try and hold it off… “*snnrff*”


The next thing I know, my index and middle finger are kneading against the underside of my nostrils. Although it feels good for a moment, applying this pressure seems to spread the itching everywhere, and when I stop, it’s too much to withhold. Lips parted, nostrils flaring. “*sdnrf, snnrf*” My sniffles are getting more drippy. I can feel it, about to happen, but I will it not to, picturing that it could shrink and disappear. Like it could just settle down. 'Calm down, damn it'. It’s not working. If anything, it's making it worse-


It’s going to happen. “*sddf* hh-“ No tissues or handkerchief. No one around, though. Okay, maybe one. Good, just to get it over with. “Eh'KZSCHHh’hioo!!” I sneeze freely, into the air. I sniffle rapidly as the drippiness seems to accelerate, and before I can stop it- “Hh’ZZDSCHHhh!! A desperate follower, as if the first one had made it brave enough to emerge. I sniffle liquidly, blinking my watery eyes.


I quickly regret giving up so prematurely, because holding back becomes near impossible. I go back to rubbing, because ‘how could I make it any worse’, but it doesn’t seem to be helping. I sniffle, and feel my pants pockets for a handkerchief. “*snrf* hehh…” Demanding. Man, I don’t have one on me. “Hehh *snnrfl*” My nose is becoming runnier with each sniffle, itchier with each sniffle.


God, I just have to…. No. No, I can do this. Okay.


I clear my throat and return to my task, trying to find the right costume so I can go back upstairs. Jill has an exam and we forgot that today was the last day that we’d have access to storage for the rest of the month, since another school would be taking over the stage. And I wouldn't have been down here this long if I could just find the damn thing, but the last production they used it for must have been a while ago. “hihh, *snrk*” Shit. “Huhh’-!” My hands drop from the fabric on the hangers and quickly over my nose, pinching tightly. “HAH’NXxXGGnn!!juhhh….” Ow. It’s dizzying, but definitely less messy then one uncovered. “*sdf!* Huh’KchxXGTtt!!-unhhh… *sddff, snnnrf*” Fuck. Just lovely. I cringe, sniffling hard and wiping my hand on my jeans.


It’s really hard to search at this point, the sensation of feathers twirling inside my nostrils and my eyes pooling with itchy tears. Every sharp sniffle threatening to send me into a sneezing fit, which I have no means to cover. Nothing clean, at least, and I’d sooner die than bury my face in a dusty blouse.


Oh hey. 


Somehow I manage to find it, wedged in between two gaudy satin dresses, the dress that Jillian needs. A sixties style, yellow gingham. Lovely, but it’s current state will send my nose into a frenzy. Nose mid-wrinkle, I turn my head away and pull it out, being careful of any details that might be caught. Man, I should’ve brought a mask.


“*snnrff, snnrfff*” Oh god. I think now a good time to run. I step out of the corner of costume racks, straightening the dress on the hanger. I sniffle and cough. This is becoming a bit much. If I sneeze now, it’s not going to be a pretty sight.




“H’RRRESCHHIEWW!! Hh-! HRRRESCHHHIOO!!-unhh… *sdf*” It feels so much better to be doing that with my face buried in a handful of clean cloth, in the comfort of the drama room couch. “*snrf* hh... heht'ESSCHHIUHhh!!” My nose is still inflamed, eyes crawling with the clinging allergic itch. A clean gasp of air, and- “huh’ESSCHHIEW!!” Congested sniffles and pink teary eyes, but an adorable vintage yellow dress laid out on the table, one that would fit Jillian perfectly.


“It’s still got the tape from the last production. ‘Katie’… Ooh, it has actual pockets.” I wince with every flouncing movement of the cloth, covering the lower half of my face.


“Isd’t she Steve’s older sister?” I rub my nose hard, back and forth.


“I think so. Wow, it’s so cute.” She holds it up in front of herself in front of the mirror. It seems perfect. Although-


“I thigk we *sdf* deed to wash it.” It’s more of a pleading than a suggestion, the idea of spreading more dust making my nose tingle just thinking about it. “Hihh, Huh’KGSCHHh!! Ah’TDSCHHhh!!-ughh, *sddff*” God. I don't want to be dramatic, but they feel more intense than usual. 


Jillian’s dreamy gaze drift from her reflection to me, her eyes sympathetic. “Okay, I’ll go wash it in home ec.”


Good. “Thagk you. *sdf*” I exhale, folding and re-folding my handkerchief.


She leans over and kisses me on the forehead, and I reflexively lean away from the dress on her arm. She grins sheepishly. “Thank you for finding it,' she says softly.


Before she moves away, I catch her arm and kiss her on the cheek. “Mmb, you’re welcobe.”

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Hellooo. Here's another part I've been working on. Hope you like~

(Lately I feel like my writing has gone down a lot in quality, which has led me to writer's block even though I've really been wanting to update some of my other series. Maybe at some point I will, but it might be while. Anyway, thanks for the comments guys :wub:)



Tech week


“See, efficient.” Charlie, a second year, stands next to a tower consisting of a writing desk and a stool, with a typewriter on top.


“No.” I tell him. I turn rub my nose on my shoulder, wondering if Jill is back from the store.


“It’s safe. I swear.” He goes to pick it up. For a second he manages to lift it, but the typewriter slips and I dive to catch it. Ow, bad idea. It’s like a blow to both of my forearms, but at least it didn’t break. Damn, those things are heavy. “You said the transitions were taking too lo-“


“I said no. *snrf*” I don’t like to raise my voice, but that easily could’ve been my foot. I dust myself off and clear my throat.


Finn walks in, as I set the typewriter down on the props table. “Ross, I padded the doors. What else needs setting up?”


I can barely think at this point. “Thagk you. Ub… *sdnrff*” I sniffle, trying not to rub my nose too harshly. “*snrk* Strike the furditure, if you haved’t… *snnrk* Ugh, sorry. Actually, get Jess to do that.” My nose has been killing me for the past few days, the towering pollen count reducing my daily allergy meds to be as effective as a glass of tap water. But I can’t get a rest because opening night is next week, and we still need to finalize details for our show.


“Yeah, uh, Fidd, you- *snrk* you hang ub the rope lights… dod’t forgehht- huh- *sdrff* ub. the stairs.” I wipe my watery eyes. I can barely take this anymore. Breath huffing through my mouth, vision blurring with tears, I fold my handkerchief and bury my nose in it. “RRRSCHHH!!-uhh,” I try to hard to restrain it, and the result makes my head spin. “gg’HYESSCHHIOOO!!!” I blow my nose immediately and after a few good rubs with the cloth, I get back to work.


“*snnnnrk*” Ugh, I must sound disgusting. “Doe, I’b fide. Ub, I’ll be right back, I just deed to check sobethig.” I say, preparing to flee to the back of the department. Josie, a first year, approaches me.


“Hey. Um, where can I find the extra batteries? Jackson told me to switch the ones on the table.”


“They’re, ub…” Oh god, no. “They’re od- *sdf* they’re od the- oh, excusebe-hehk’TSCHHhh!!” I turn and sneeze in the crook of my arm. “*snnrff* Oh god, I’b sorry. They’re… *sdrf* od the shelf. Id a box. Here, Steve will show you.” I pat his shoulder as he passes by. He takes one glance at me, and nods, then goes to help Josie. Thank God.


I race backstage and into the back hall, walking towards the makeup room. The air is less stuffy, which is nice. I walk inside and sit on the counter, finally being able to blow my nose properly. I close my eyes for a few seconds.


“Ross?” I hear Jill outside, approaching. “Babe?” When she sees me in the doorway, her shoulders sink a little. “Hey, Mr. Director. How’re you doing?”


“Uhhh. Dyi’g.” I say, and laugh, which turns into a cough. “*sdf* By dose is like… totally blocked… hih!” Of course the vibrations of talking will make my nose tickle. “Hold od, I- heh! I deed to- huh-!” Quickly, I raise my handkerchief. “ERRRSCHHHIOO!! Heh! EERRRISCHHIOOO!!-unhhh… *sdf!* hih! Huuuhhh… *snrk*”


“Go home, babe.”


“*sdrf* Doe, I cad’t. *sngk* I cad’t just leave, I’b- hehh, *sngk* I’b supposed to be directing, a’d thehhre’s… hhso buch we… hhh…HAAAESSCHHhh!! *snnrff* So buch we deed to do. *sdrf*” I sneeze freely off to the side, to tired to cover. I rub my nose briefly, sniffling wetly. Jill comes and puts one hand on my shoulder, stroking gently with her thumb.




I sniffle, a horrible, congested sound in this silence, and chuckle. “Dod’t you bead ‘salud’?” She smiles.


“Oh I’m sorry. It’s just, the way you look right now, I feel like it’s safe to cut to the chase. Amor.” She brushes my hair away from my forehead and kisses it gently. A smirk pulls the corners of my lips. I can feel her fingers combing through my wild hair, in a slow, soothing way. I stare at the striped pattern on her shirt, thin black stripes and wider yellow and white ones. She kisses me again, on the other side of my temple. “You have tangles.” She says softly.


“Well, I dod’t- huh’ISCHHh!!” I turn away, and she withdraws her hands. “Huh’ESCHHhiew!! *snrk* Sorry. Dod’t have a comb.”


“I’ll comb it.” She starts again, and she hits a tangled spot-


“Ow, you’re-“


“Sorry. Sorry.” She does it more gently. I sit there, sniffling softly, pulling both legs on top of the counter.


“We deed to rud it agaid. Tradsitions and all. *sdf* There’s Just dot edough tiehh… heh! tibe to- huh! EESSSCHHHhh!!” I try to sneeze downward, but I still end up getting her a little. “*snrf!* Oh god, sorry...” I stretch the hem of my shirt and dab at her pants with the inner cloth.


“That’s okay.” Her voice is always kind, a reaction I always have trouble believing. I choose not to argue. I sniffle hard and rub my nose with my wrist.


“There’s just dot edough tibe-“


“Let me take over for you” I can’t make her do that. I don’t know if she knows which part I’m talking about. Plus I don’t want her to stress about this - at this point, it’s loose end after loose end - and call me stubborn, but I think I can get myself through this. I mean, I always have. “Babe, you need sleep, okay? The crew will be fine if you decide to go for a few hours, besides, it’s not doing you any good with all the dust, and it’s allergy season.”


“I dow, but, I still have t-“


“You have to rest.” When I look at her, there’s this grin on her face, and I have to look away again because I know it’ll convince me. “I mean, yesterday… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sneeze that much.”


I sniffle, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “They brought a lot of stuff frob dowdstairs, it was dusty…”


“Well, now they’re unpacking it, it’s just gonna go everywhere.”


“hheh… I dow, but… hih! Huh’TDSCHH!!Uh’pTSCHHhh!! Hih’-! Huh’ESSCHHIOO!!” I don’t want to think about yesterday. All that time we lost.


“I mean, all that time downstairs… collecting dust.” She continues casually. “Now I bet it’s swirling around the air, just… flying.”


“HRRRSCHHhh!! Hehstob ihh- h’ESSCHHIEWW!! ghh…”


Jill has stopped combing my hair, just sitting opposite me on the makeup counter. I rub my nose fiercely with both hands over my nose. It feels like millions of tiny feathers stroking the inside, constantly teasing me, relentlessly. I force myself to stop, taking away my hands. Jillian says nothing. The silence between us is still, but calming, as she waits patiently. I can feel her looking at me. I feel like I want to curl up and hide, so she wouldn’t have to see me like this. It’s not the first time, but still. What she said before about me barely seems true. But the feeling of her fingers in my hair. Her kiss on my forehead. She hasn’t left yet.


I sigh and sniffle, combing back my hair with one hand. Huh. She did a pretty good job.


“*snrf* …Heh.” I smirk a little, looking down. “I dow you like this.” I croak.


“Well… Yeah. But. I like you more.”


“*snf* …That was cruel, just dow.”


She has the grace to look sheepish, but I can’t be mad at her. “I know. I’m sorry.”


“‘s fide.” I swing my legs back over the edge of the counter. I can see myself in the mirror on the other side of the room, and cringe. Fine. “There’s…” I sigh softly. “There’s sobe ndotes I left id by script. About sobe parts that deed ibprovebedt. *sngk*”


“I’ll take care of it.”


“Andy a'd Steve will be there to help.”


“Got it.”


“A’d bake sure the mics’ batteries are changed. I thigk Josie’s doi’g that.”




“A’d, ub… hhih! HRRISCHHhhiuh!! *snrf* hahh-“ my eyelids flutter as the the urge to sneeze overwhelms me. “HRRISCHHhhioo!! *snnrff, snrf, sngk*” Jill rubs my back. “God..." I chuckle, refolding my handkerchief. "What’re we goig to do?”


“It’ll work out, I promise.” I sigh and lean my head on her shoulder.

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