“Hi, darli’g… umb… *sndrff!* I uh, *grmm!* I hope you’ve beed havi’g a good day. *snff!*
hh’I just wadted… to, ub… … *hsddrff* Oh, I just wadted- hihHH?? uUD’TSCHhiuh!!’tTDSCHHh-!! *snngk!* … Ugh, I… wadted to ask how… h-how you’re feeli’g, cuz- ihH-? aAAESSCHHIOO-!!!
… Sorry. *gsdf* Uh, I thigk I’ve cobe dowd with sobethi’g… dot dice. A’d… I just wadted to ward you. *sdrff* Id case. Sorry. But, it was great seei’g you… *sddrff* hoo… *sdrf!*
Ub, yeah. Have sobe vitabid C, if- if you cahh’d-AAASSCHHhioo!!! *sddrfh! ahemm!* ‘Scuse be, wow.
Ah. *sngk!* Sorry. Ub. Call be whed you get this. Bye.”
“Well, I’d, *snnrff* I’d probably start over here. *hsnrg* Right besihhde… hh’right besS’ZZISSCHHhiew!! *snnngk!* Right beside your ear. *sngk!* Or… maybe right idto your… hh… hhD’ZZSSCHHhhieww!!! *snngk* idto your ear. *snngk* God bless be.
Try Again (m, illness) aka the aforementioned fic 🙇🏻♀️
Jack is a sound designer and he falls super ill once the show opens. a thing goes wrong in the sound setup and here he is trying to give instructions to his assistant on how to fix it.
warning for mess | 525 words
content: messy snz, tissues, caretaking
-
“I dod’t deed to chadge it, I just deed you to listed to be. *snnrff, ah-Hemm!* Yes. It’s id the Saffrod folder. *sddrff!* Uhuh. *hsndrff!* I- hold od, I- yy'ESSCHIEWW!! ESSCHIEWWw!! *snNRK!* g’hhh… *snrk* Thagk you. I’b fide. *hsnnnrk~* Okay, dow add it to the queue…”
Jess is certain that Jack only has a couple of minutes before he drowns in his own snot, trying to get these instructions out. She pulls a couple of tissues from the box on the coffee table and offers them to him. Still in the heat of discussion, it takes a couple of seconds for him to notice, and with a rather thick sniffle, he accepts them.
“Check that… ngh… hihh! k’heihh-! EEIYY’AATCHHIEWWw!!! *hsnNDRFFh! snrgk! snrk*” Thick ropes of mucus burst from his flared, leaking nostrils, oozing down his chin. He has to stop and breathe, finding the rhythm again, eyes shiny and dazed. He lifts the tissues one-handed up to his nose and wipes, pinching away the mess. “I’b fide,” he huffs, voice cracking. "Tell be what happeds whed you hit play.”
As he waits, he slowly rubs his nose with the crumpled tissues in his hand. His eyelids flutter, expression crumbling into a helpless grimace. He pitches forward with another gushing, explosive sneeze. “rrRR’GSSCHHhh!!hieww… *snnrk, sdf*”
He blinks dazedly and pinches his nose, rubbing it hard. “Hehh… hih! Doe, I’b… f-f- haAH’CHIEWWw!!! heih?? eiy’EEESSCHHIEWWww!!!”
Jess pouts a little and reaches over to run her hand gently over his back. Jack takes a few panting breaths, wiping his nose and sniffling thickly. His nostrils are flaring as he wipes them with a folded tissue, and it looks as if it takes restraint not to sneeze again from the delicate cleanup.
“Thagk you. Please excuse be. *sddrffh* ...By siduses are killing be.”
Jess watches as he rubs his slender, rosy red nose back and forth, the rims of his nostrils rounded and dripping with mucus.
Jack groans and wipes his nose again. He leans forward and grabs three tissues.
“Pardod be, just a bidute.”
He mutes himself on the call, then folds the tissues and gives his nose a loud, gurgling blow, flooding and soaking the tissues. Afterward, he sighs and rubs his red nose so hard it squelches.
“Hehh… excuse be… upload the dew file- hht’CHIEWW!! *hsnnrgk!* HAATCHIEWW!! *hsnnrgk! koFF!* Scuse be. hih-! hiHt’CHIEWW!!!”
“Thagk you. I’b… huhh… I’b… *snngrk!* sdeezig like a bad bad. *hsnnrk!* is it playig? Okay… try agaid…”
Jack sniffles thickly, and his chin lifts, his nostrils flaring wide. "hhehhh..." He sniffles again, hard, the sound wet and marshy. Then- “HAAAESSCHHIOOoo!!!”
They were originally headed towards the back, in the direction of the tiny bathroom at the end of the hall, but something unspoken and exciting had them stumbling into the storage room. A was curling with another wrenching, allergic pair of sneezes, while B was gently moving back their hair, kissing along their neck up to the ear. A leaned their head back and chuckled breathlessly, putting out their hands to stop things from being shaken off the shelves.
“—haAAT’SCHIUH-!! huh-! hUTsz’CHIEWWh!! Oh mby gosh-“ A box of wooden utensils fell from the shelf, rattling onto the floor. B laughs and pauses. “You are not real,” A whispers. They put a hand on the side of B’s face. “A thing for sneezes?”
B smiles wide, going red in the face. Their head bows and they press their forehead into A’s shoulder. They feel the expanding of A’s chest as they draw a deep gasp, and the shudder of a sneeze more monstrous than the ones before, “—hhED’zZZSCHHIEWWw!!!” -aimed freely off to the side.
B’s fingers gripped the shelf as A’s back jerked against it, and a package of paper takeout containers tumbled to the floor.
“Jesus, bless you…”
“This caddot be saditary, *hsnff*” A muttered.
“Here,” B reached over A’s shoulder to retrieve a white cube from the shelf, plastic crinkling in their ear. “Napkins.”
The warm dim lighting of the bedroom is delicious, a soothing break away from white fluorescents. He’s emptying his pockets, shedding his jacket, throwing a handful of crumpled sodden Kleenex into the trash. She’s up before he can take three shaky steps into the room.
Pain sparks like pop rocks as he makes a murky attempt at clearing his throat. He turns his chin, eyes aching, vision blurring as he exhales some assuring words. He feels her hand on his shoulder, then her cool fingers against his temple. She says something, and he opens his mouth to disagree. Before he can, he’s consumed with the urge to sneeze again. And again.
A dizziness hits him, and the room starts to move on an axis. Turning, before a hand steadies him by the shoulder.
Next door, there’s faint bass. While she gets him to sit, his attention shifts to focus on the fuzzy sound, similar but separate from the pounding in his feverish head. It’s too fast to keep up with.
Blinking from a fog, he sees she’s placed a clean, comfy shirt next to him on the bed. She’s still there, by the closet, rooting around. Going on about having put away the winter things just for the temperature to drop again. He recalls the gaping holes he’d avoided on the road - too many to count. She comes back over and sets down a pair of flannel pyjama pants next to the shirt. Pausing to watch as he stares at the clothes, zoning out. He feels her hand on the back of his head and her lips press to his forehead. The next words she murmurs to him, he doesn’t contest.
The other side of the bed was empty when he awoke. He made no sound - swamped with muck and fever, the world like a thick painting of greys and blues. And she wasn’t there on the other side of the bed, where she should’ve been. Curious.
He heaved his sweating, aching form upright, facing the empty unlit bathroom. A streetlight in the window dotted yellow like a bright star. Dull pain swam in his head. A heavy combination of nasal congestion, and perhaps dehydration, and any number of things… Soreness in it all. Breathing, against a course of inflammation and mucus.
“*snrk* …. *’grmm*…”
He found himself standing some moments later, in the upstairs hallway. In a checkpoint of sorts, head still swimming. He dragged his feet to the stairs, and descended them in slow steps, clinging to the railing.
A lamp was on in the living room.
“*sdrff!*” He stood at the bottom of the stairs, still holding onto the railing. The air was cooler downstairs - somehow making the streaming of his nose more apparent. “*sndrff*…”
There was a tissue box on the coffee table in front of the sofa. And on the sofa, there was a lump of blankets, and from the lump of blankets, came a peculiar sound. Slowly, he shuffled closer.
The blanket pile groaned softly as he reached the sofa. From an opening in the fabric, her face peeked out, half-obscured with a rumpled tissue. Making the same strange muffled sounds as before, her body shuddered beneath the blankets, as she muffled sneeze after wet sneeze into the tissue in her palm.
He sank down next to her on the sofa, not trusting his face not to burst with pain if he bent over. He pulled the tissue box nearer. His hand found her shoulder on top of the layered blankets as she sat in a dizzy interlude, panting through parted lips. Her head hung, causing her hair to fall into her face. Carefully, he lifted a hand and moved back the unruly strands.
Her face crumpled with a closed-eyed scowl as- “iyY’ISSCHhiuh!” another sneeze came, misting his hand. She lifted the damp tissue to sneeze again, over and over, intense and less smothered than before. “huUd’ISCHHh!! uht’ISSCHH!!-isschh!!-isschhioo!!” Suddenly, he turned away from her and let out a harsh, spraying sneeze, too quick to consider covering.
“hdt’zZZSCHHhioo-!!” He sniffled liquidly, and coughed, blinking teary eyes. She huffed an awful, wheezy shell of her laugh. The “Bless you” sounded worse. The urge was still strong, making his breath snag. She was pressing a tumbleweed of tissues into his hand, which he only had time to lift before a fierce second sneeze burst from him. A desperate exclamation, grazing his raw throat and soaking the layers of tissue. “haAD’TCHIEWWhh!!!” He pulled more to blow his nose, making a noise he could’ve compared to a brass solo in a sad andante.
As he sat quietly, blinking in reset, he felt her head sink onto his shoulder. She drew a thick, liquid sniffle. The warmth that emanated from her was both pleasant and concerning. He let the side of his head rest gently against hers.
warning for gratuitous mess, no plot except a guy looking for a handkerchief
The absence of proper equipment is rather catastrophic, in the present moment.
“hUH’GKCHHIEWW-!! *hsdDRk!* g’hh…”
His long fingers cage awkwardly over his nose. It’s dripping onto his upper lip, causing a very urgent, eye-stinging tickle. He pants softly into his palm, blinking tears down his cheeks to clear his itchy eyes. Thick snuffles hardly keep back the dribbling flow of mucus, and he tries to breathe steadily.
“h-hHt! Unhh, *sddrff!* unh…”
He huffs through parted lips, stopping reflexively in his tracks as his nose burns, and it’s positively overflowing with mucus. He can’t sneeze again. Not without... He sniffles sharply and liquidly as his nose begins to itch fiercely, feeling as if feathers are teasing at the raw, sore edges of his sensitive nose. Involuntary, he draws a stuttering inhale. Out comes an explosive sneeze, snot spraying through his long fingers.
“AAD’TCHIUEE-!!!”
He sniffles frantically, his face very flushed. His eyes are blurry with tears, and there’s a glob of snot hanging between his fingers. He sniffles desperately, but there’s a constant sheen about his upper lip, sore and red beneath his moustache. Tears drip from his chin, his cheeks and his eyes shiny.
He sucks in a snorting sniffle and blinks the moisture from his eyes. The urge to sneeze creeps back in with teasing, questionable urgency, causing his breath to shake.
“hihh? heihh? hihh-!”
He can’t keep sneezing like this. It won’t stop in until he blows his nose. But the urge is intense, deep and sore, and too strong to suppress-
“huH’gk’CHHIEUWwh!! *hsnNrgk!*”
Fucking hell. Mucus shoots from his nostrils, oozing into his palm. And god, that really itches-
Shit. He holds both hands over his nose and mouth. His flushed nostrils widen and scrunch as he sniffles hard, ineffectively. Once more his lungs steal the air with an urgent gasp, and- “hrruUD’CHHIEWWw!! *snnngk* ‘guhh…”
yeah okay whatever I’ll get you the nice seasonal hot drink with the whipped cream if you’re good stop grinning at me with those big wet allergic eyes go wipe your nose yes I’ll get you a pastry too “you’re the best” WHATEVER
-
hi yes it’s me I’m back sorry I scared you why is the air purifier still off who opened the window. you?? okay it’s fine god your eyes are so gorgeous and puffy let’s close that fucker okay? bless you yes that’s for you, bless you bless you yes I’ll get the fan it’s hot as balls in here.
-
what did you say? ..what? it’s okay, I’m not asleep yet. bless you. where are you going? it’s okay, come back. bless you. here, these should be better. stop that. I’ll wash them, it’s okay. lean back for me. bless you. oh, it hurts. okay. I’ll get you drugs. how does that sound? just sit tight. ..no? I’ll… okay. I’ll stay. yeah. yeah, no, I’m actually not tired. I’m serious. I was wide awake just now, thinking about things. I’m glad you’re up with me, now I have someone to torture relentlessly with my deep philosophical wonderings…
