This Charming Man - (The Necessary Death of Charlie Countryman, M)

[Garnet]

So I watched The Necessary Death of Charlie Countryman on Netflix the other day, and it wasn't really my jam, but both Mads and Evan Rachel Wood were illegally hot in it. And that's about all the motivation that I needed to write out this nonsense.

You don't need to be familiar with the film at all, this is set before it begins. Gabriella is a cellist for the Bucharest opera, Nigel is a drug lord. I enjoy their ugly, messed up relationship.

Minor warnings for allusions to sex, drugs, and rock and roll violence, and Nigel's garbage mouth. But otherwise I don't think it's too explicit apart from my flagrant lack of proofreading. Enjoy!

----

Gabriella hadn't owned a cat since she was six. Not since they'd put Carmen down after a short but potent struggle with kidney disease, a wrung out and wasted sack of fur that got buried with half of her six-year-old heart.

She hadn't given the new cat a name yet, but she was thumbing through a mental rolodex of possibilities. Dvorak came to mind, watching him tear around the flat like an animal possessed, back arched and ricocheting into an excited, bouncing crabwalk whenever he encountered an imaginary foe.

"At least I don't have to worry about wearing you out," she smiled, and scruffed her nails in the carpet. The cat came rocketing out from behind an armchair, his little white toes spread for the killing blow on her sleeve-protected hand.

"

A cat?" She'd laughed at her father the day before, certain he was kidding even as she accepted the thrumming black and white bundle of fur in both arms. "What am I going to do with a cat? Where did you

get

a cat?"

"

A kitten, for my puppy-feet girl. He'll keep you company," Victor told her, eyes glittering.

Gabi pulled a face. "Nigel's only out of town for the week," she warned him.

Her father feigned innocence with a shrug. "So he's company for the week. He has all his shots. One of the violins bought him for her girlfriend," he winked.

"

That didn't work out," Gabi predicted, rubbing the feline gently behind the ears as his eyes narrowed with friendly pleasure.

"

She was allergic. You don't want him to end up on the streets."

"

That's not fair, tatic."

But she'd come home with a cat, anyway, and spent her afternoon picking out litter and kibble and wet food. She estimated him to be on the lee side of six months, not quite a kitten but neither was he an adult, all lankiness and bright, jewel-like eyes and attitude. He seemed no worse the wear for his sudden displacement, and it had taken her less than an hour to become wholly smitten. She grimaced to think what fate might have befallen him otherwise.

"Little monster," she hummed in her throat, thumbing the one little white patch on his chin that mirrored the milksplash daubs on his feet and tail. "I hope Nigel's a cat person."

In truth, she wasn't even sure that he was an animal person. Apart from a few roughing passes over the heads of Darko's enormous cane corsos, she could count on one hand the times she'd seen her husband interact with them.

Something guilty percolated in the back of her mind, and she gave the cat the run of the apartment for the weekend. Just in case.

By Sunday evening, the cat seemed to have exorcised some of his demons and sacked out early in a laundry basket. After returning from the opera, she closed the cat gently into her studio with his dinner and laundry basket, and prayed he would stay quiet for a little while. His introduction to Nigel was probably a task best saved until she was sure he was in a good mood.

Gabi moved herself and the cello to the living room instead, and played to soothe her own crackling, post-performance energy. For whatever reason, it was difficult to come down tonight, and her thoughts kept devouring themselves instead of drifting. She was still so occluded in the storm of her own mind that she jumped and sawed a sour note when the door came open behind her.

"You scared me," she breathed, turning a scolding eye to her husband.

Nigel looked amused as he slouched into the apartment and closed the door behind him with one foot. A paper bag dangled from his fingertips.

"It's only been a week, did you forget I lived here?"

"I thought I'd see you at the opera," Gabi accused, but couldn't deny a bubble of pleasure rising in her chest. She made to set the cello aside and rise to greet him, but Nigel closed the distance first, and sank down between her bent knees, where the instrument had been. "Uhf," she sighed, bending forward to fold her arms around his shoulders and bury her nose in his hair. "I missed you, loverboy." As much as she'd enjoyed the company of Dvorak and her father and the orchestra over the weekend, it was no substitute for this.

Nigel bent his head in her lap, arms loose on her hips, and murmured a noise of agreement. She inhaled deeply, expecting to smell leather and beer and confidence, but sat up in dismay at the reek of cigarettes and cheap perfume. Stripper perfume.

"You were with Darko," she observed coolly.

Nigel sat back onto his haunches resignedly, but without an ounce of shame as he regarded her. "Strictly business, darling."

"I'd be less worried if you were there for pleasure."

Nigel sighed, his face serene and tired, but the faintest tremor to his lidded eyes suggested a roiling current beneath the surface.

"Not tonight. I'm all yours."

Gabriella was no more eager to get into it than he was, and reached to cup his broad jaw, grounding in herself in the good Nigel. Not the one concealing a semiautomatic under his shirt or that owned half of Bucharest's underbelly, but the one that always came home worn out and sleepless, missing her something fierce and something genuine. The one that brought sacks of her favorite covrigi in the city, enough for a meal in and of themselves. The one that only wanted to curl around her in bed after reacquainting themselves with one another's bodies, kissing every freckle from her nape to her toes. A shiver chased up her spine.

He would be fine with the cat, she was sure of it.

Nigel was regarding her with that warm, predictable look, devilish and inviting. "Gabi..."

She pushed him away by the shoulder and snatched up the bag of soft pretzels, all lofty defiance. "Go take a shower, filthy man."

He revealed the crooked tips of his teeth in a grin, but rose and retreated for the bathroom. Gabriella put the cello away, peeked in on the dozing cat, and ate two covrigi, one with poppy seeds and the other filled with a chocolate so hot and sweet and melted that it made her toes curl.

Beneath the rush of the shower, she heard Nigel sneeze.

"Sanatate!" She called, and got no response. She rose to straighten the bed, although she didn't bother to put on fresh sheets. Laundry had waited most of the week, and could wait one day more.

Nigel joined her a few moments later, dressed down to a wifebeater and loose pajama pants. He was plagued by tiny, rapid sniffles, and frequent passes under his nose with a corner of the towel did something strange to her insides. It made them feel weak and watery, like she was a vulnerable little girl.

Maybe she'd missed him more than she thought.

From the doorway, Nigel picked his head up blearily from the towel, his expression a logy haze and the cavernous shapes of his nostrils wrinkling open. Gabriella watched with abject fascination as he crushed himself back into the towel and sneezed again, muffled by the thick fabric.

"...hedt--chfsshh!"

Gabi turned her head to keep her gaze on him as he got three steps, and -- "CHFFSH!" -- right into the towel again, with quivering relief.

"Bless you!"

Her husband didn't sneeze with particular frequency, and rarely got sick. She could barely recall more than a couple of colds, and they tended to settle right in his chest. She'd never given much thought to his quick, wolfish sneezes while leaning to one side in a cafe chair, or splitting the quiet of the air after she finished a piece, as if he'd been holding out the whole time.

Nigel gave his head a single shake, nose wrinkled, then tossed the towel into the hamper. He collapsed onto the bed with a grunt as she changed into a clinging pair of yoga pants and the softest t-shirt she could find. They weren't doing sexy, tonight, they were doing comfortable. She'd decided.

"Do I want to ask about work?" She asked, while kneel-walking across the mattress towards him.

"You don't," he said, even as he opened an arm to accept her against his side. "Do I?"

"We performed Coppelia. Not one of my favorites," Gabi admitted. She pressed a kiss to the pin-up tattooed on the side of his neck, then the prominence of his cheekbone.

Nigel tilted his head, brushing his brow against hers. She noted that he was still sniffling repetitively, the edges of his nostrils twitching with a subconscious effort to keep the tiny bead of moisture within from trickling too far.

"No? Tell me about it."

"It's kind of... I don't know, goofy." So she said, while getting a silent kick out of watching her husband's nose run. She could make hypocrisy an art form. "An inventor makes a life-sized dancing doll," Gabi began, watching the steady fizzle and fade of his focus as she spoke. "And one of the townsfolk, already engaged, falls in love with her. Before he even speaks to her. I don't think I'm one for those love at first sight stories, you know?"

"Isn't that most of them?" Nigel said distractedly, voice heady as he sat up and cast around. With an idea of what was coming, Gabi rolled onto her back and watched him thoughtfully.

"I suppose. Even ours."

Nigel tried to cut her a sharp glance, but the relentless crease of his features got the better of him -- nostrils arching wide and the corners of his mouth folding downwards.

"--hd'CHH-shh!" He sneezed miserably to one side, not bothering to disguise the fine and explosive aerosol that accompanied.

"Jesus fu-- chhdssh-shh!" The ugly curl of his expression deepened, as if each sneeze were only tickling him more deeply instead of offering relief. "...hehdt--CHDSSHH-ue!"

Gabriella felt the swell of his frustration like a rising tide, setting off a mental ping of warning even as her exhilaration kited bright and wild and strange in her mind. She leaned to snatch a box of tissues from her side of the bed.

"God bless. What's this all about?"

Nigel's eyes and nose were streaming, so she didn't need to bully him into taking the handful of tissues. He blew his nose, producing a sound that was thin and liquid, and seemed to take the edge off the irritation.

"No fucking clue," he grimaced, with a rheumy series of blinks afterwards. He sacrificed a tissue and set to blotting first one nostril and then the other, struggling to keep ahead of the insistent leak.

"Come here, loverboy," Gabi invited, then reached to lay a hand on his brow. "You sound like you're getting sick." She had never felt threatened by the path of Nigel's hair-trigger temper, but it didn't mean he was pleasant to deal with. Defusing it with a tender gesture would save her a headache later on.

That, and she would never get over her weakness for broken things. She liked him with a sniffling nose as much as she did licking his scars. This man has had too little love, these gestures said. I need to fix that.

God, even she knew how dumb she was, sometimes.

"I feel fine. Something caught in my nose." Nigel was reluctant, but not combative. He was always happy to receive her attentions. Sometimes she didn't know if it was reassuring or scary how much he loved her, how very different were the faces he presented to her and to the rest of the world.

He was right, though. His forehead didn't feel hot to the touch, to her mildest disappointment. That spring of guilt cracked the surface in the back of her mind again, threatening with a thought, but it didn't quite make it to gestation with the distraction of his sharp, urgent sniffles. Ugh, so cute.

"Is that all?" She hummed, sketching his profile with a fingernail trailed down the hawkish shape of his nose. Her eyes narrowed suddenly, with an unwelcome throb of suspicion. "...not shitting where you eat, right?"

She was pretty sure that Nigel's addictions began and ended at a pack of smokes a day and horrible taste in liquor, but--...

"Please," Nigel made a disgusted noise and caught her roughly by the wrist, pulling her hand from his face. "I don't touch that shit," he snapped, and then planted a firm kiss at the center of her palm, the tip of his nose squishing softly, damply against its heel. Her heart constricted.

"Okay, loverboy, okay." Her eyes lowered with flickering pleasure as he chased a series of kisses up her arm and to the centerpoint of her chest. Gabi angled her knees apart to couch the solidness of his body in between. "Think you can get through this without sneezing on me?"

"No promises, darling."

----

The following morning, Nigel paced through their sprawling flat and sneezed like a showerhead stuck on pulse. He soaked through half a box of tissues before he'd even gotten out of bed, with a repetitive "--chzssh!" that prickled beneath her skin.

Gabi was relieved when they ran out of coffee and he jerked on a coat and muttered something about going to get more. Not just because he was being cagey and short, but because she very nearly had to excuse herself back to the bedroom for some private indulgence as she watched him smoke on the balcony. He evacuated sneeze after ticklish sneeze in an effort to scratch the itch in his sinuses. Expression crinkled, head ducking as each spray of irritation caught the morning sunlight and evaporated on the air. In the interim, he would itch his nose so hard that it produced a soft, wet clicking sound and turned pink at the septum. It was grotesque, and beautiful.

His absence also gave her an opportunity to check on Dvorak, who greeted her with sleepy-eyed affection as he slept on one of Nigel's shirts in a patch of sunlight.

"Little gentleman," Gabi sighed, picking his drowsy form up to tuck under her chin. She eyed the patch of little black hairs he'd left behind with trepidation. "I think we're both in trouble. I can't keep you in here forever."

She cuddled and fed him, scooped his litterbox and draped him back into the laundry basket, praying that his energy reserves didn't return for another couple of hours.

She quickly ran a lint roller over her shirt, absolving herself of the sin of cat hair mere moments before Nigel returned. Apparently in better spirits, as he handed her a strong cup of street coffee and set a bag of grounds on the kitchen counter. He went about loading the machine for the eventual second, third, and fourth cups while she puttered around the island counter, feeling too edgy to enjoy the rare moment of domesticity.

"You sound better," she observed, as she picked at a leftover pretzel from the night before. Had he eaten last night? She debated whether she felt settled enough to fix him some eggs and tomatoes.

"Don't jinx it," Nigel warned with a backwards glance as he licked his thumb and peeled a stack of filters apart. "I haven't sneezed at all for the past twe--heh...hh!"

The irony was not lost on either of them, but Gabi had a hard time appreciating it. She bit her lip as he braced one hand to the counter and wrenched aside with a tremendous sneeze.

"--hedt--CHISZSHHUE!" He snagged a square of paper towels from the counter just in time to field a second, "--CHFSSH! Oh, for fuck's sake."

"Bless you. It has to be something here," Gabi hastened to declare, knowing that he would make the conclusion on his own shortly. She minced in to finish the task of setting the pot while Nigel stalked away, blowing his nose. Think of something, quick quick quick. Not laundry detergent, you haven't done it. Not a new perfume, he'll ask to smell it.

"I haven't cleaned."

Nigel lowered the makeshift tissue, glaring. "So what. You never clean."

"Of course I clean," she retorted with a toss of her jaw. "What, did you think I'd hired a maid?" Snapping the lid of the coffee maker shut and setting it to brew, she turned and strode towards him, wiping her hands on her hips. "I'll vacuum after rehearsal. Didn't know your nose was so ticklish, loverboy."

He ignored her playful baiting, and didn't seem to buy the household filth story, either, as he turned away and shrugged back into his coat.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"Business out, or you're-mad-at-me out?"

Nigel huffed a frustrated sigh, and paused in headed for the bedroom. He ducked to kiss the corner of her mouth, just prolonged enough to soften the slope of her shoulders.

"Business. Why would I be angry with you?" He grunted, bumping his forehead gently against hers. Not unlike the way Dvorak did, she noted to herself. The irony. "I'll get you a maid, you know."

Gabi smiled. "I know. I don't want one."

"Okay." He caught the back of her neck in one hand, and kissed her brow this time. "I'll see you tonight."

Tonight could mean anywhere from late in the afternoon until four in the morning, so while he armed himself, Gabriella drew up a battle plan in her head.

After pecking Nigel goodbye and seeing him off with a tremulous smile, she called Bela at once to beg off rehearsal. He wasn't pleased, but she did a good enough hangover voice that she managed to navigate a day off with only a few disgusted and disappointed noises.

With the block of her morning cleared, she swept through their entire duplex with the vacuum. And then did it again, quietly ruing why they needed so many rooms for just two people, and why she'd let Dvorak play in all of them.

The laundry came next, at last, she fitted the bed with freshly washed sheets and pillowcases, and left the windows open despite the chill in the air, in an effort to clear out the worst of the allergens. She left the studio until last, it was three o'clock by the time she joined the loudly meowing Dvorak with her laptop and cell. Cycling through her list of friends and fellow musicians didn't yield anyone who could take the cat that day, and her father had gone out of town.

She even resorted to looking up and calling animal shelters just outside the city, against her first impulse. Unfortunately, most had their hands full with Bucharest's roving feral dogs, and few had more than an impatient word for even a hand-raised cat with all of his shots.

"You can bring him in, but we have a three day waiting period," one woman snipped over the phone.

"Three days until he's put up for adoption?"

"Until he's euthanized."

Horrified, Gabi had hung up and sat with Dvorak in his lap for as long as he would tolerate it, feeling her throat cramp. Marcela, one of the flautists, had eagerly agreed to take him on, but not until the following weekend.

She'd just need to put her foot down with Nigel and make him wait it out. He wouldn't be happy, but he'd have to deal with it. Gabriella picked her battles. This was one of them.

Dvorak eventually grew bored with snuggling, and began wandering around the studio. With a sigh, Gabi got up to retrieve the cello and a crumpled ball of foil. She resigned herself to a few hours of working through next month's pieces and toeing the makeshift toy around the floor for the cat, grinning distractedly at his antics.

Too bad. If Marcela would take him, maybe she could arrange visits. She was already smitten with the little fellow.

The evening fell, and she missed it. Dinner passed, and she missed that too. Eyes shut, leaning into the draw of the bow and the smell of rosin, Gabriella only barely registered the sound of the front door opening and shutting. She froze.

Oh.

Hastening to set her instrument aside, she nearly dropped it as she watched Dvorak streak by in a blur of black. The sequence of events that followed reminded her a little of watching a train wreck. She thought she'd shut the door fully during her last trip outside the studio room, but evidently not. With seemingly divine purpose, Dvorak curled his paw around the edge and tugged it open, charging out into the living room to investigate what he evidently hoped to be a new source of entertainment.

There was a squeaky miaow of greetings, followed shortly by a startled yowl and Nigel barking, "What the fuck is this?"

Gabi scrambled so quickly to the door that she'd later swear she teleported.

"Don't hurt him!"

Nigel stood in the center of the living room, holding Dvorak by the scruff of the neck and at arm's length. The cat had its ears laid out flat as a landing strip, and was escalating a mean sound of discontent for his handling. Gabriella swept forward to rescue him, clutching him to her breast.

Dvorak struggled for freedom, spooked, but she held tight as she backed away from Nigel's ire.

"A cat? Honestly, Gabi, a fucking cat?"

The animal in question managed to get one hind paw free, and in sudden terror left three bright red, oozing scratches down her arm as he launched from her grip and bolted for safety under the sofa. Nigel tipped his head back, grimacing wildly, and sneezed.

"--CHSSHH-ue!"

"Christ, it's not like I knew you were allergic. I never would have brought him home."

Nigel tried to bite back a retort, but he couldn't seem to keep his eyes open and shoulders straight for more than a splitsecond. He cringed forward again and again, each with a whippish, "hdt-CHSH!" sneeze.

Gabi went to the sofa while he was locked in a seemingly infinite loop of jagged inhales and sneezes, and lifted up one end. Dvorak tried to retreat towards the other, but when he realized the futility of this, he went hurtling back towards the perceived safety of the studio. Gabi closed the door hastily behind him.

"Are you trying to fucking--..." Her husband's eyes shivered shut, nose tightly wrinkled and streaming freely now. "--chzsssh-ue! -- kill me?"

Gabriella cut him an angry glance, for all of what Nigel could see through eyes blurred with allergic tears. Defensive anger and miserable guilt warred strong in her chest.

"Give me some credit, loverboy. If I wanted to kill you, you'd go out with a bang."

To her surprise, Nigel bleated a rough laugh in between sneezes. He'd staggered towards the kitchen and managed to get a wad of paper towels to his nose, harsh but serviceable. She barely remembered him looking so disheveled, not since they'd first met and that old scar on his side was still gory and new.

"--edt-chsszshh!"

Encouraged as the fit began to wane into a series of false starts and tickly coughs, Gabriella approached.

"I'm so sorry, Nigel. My father gave him to me over the weekend, it honestly never occurred to me." She watched as her husband blew his nose messily, well-concealed in the thick handful of white. "I vacuumed everything, and I've kept him in the studio. I was looking for someone else to take him most of the day."

She suspected that Nigel still wanted to be angry, but the force of the fit had knocked most of the wind right out of his sails. He lowered the paper towels at last to reveal a bright pink nose and weepy eyes. Gabi took a mental snapshot of the moment.

"And did you find one?" He croaked, hoarse with the effort of trying to vigorously evacuate most of his upper respiratory system.

She nodded. "She has to cat-proof her place first. A few days, you won't even know he's here, I promise."

Nigel groaned and blew his nose into a fresh sheet, but it sounded like mostly air. "And the shelters?"

"All had a time limit before, you know, the big sleep." Gabi made air quotes, chasing it with a knowing glare. "So don't even think about spiriting him away when I'm not looking, because I will never forgive you."

"You know me too well, darling."

"I mean it."

He threw the wad of towels away and scrubbed his eyes with three fingers to each, digging in tightly. "Well."

Gabi reached up to pull his wrists down before he blinded himself. "Let's try this again." She cocked her head, feigning an airy, cheerful tone of greeting. "Hey, loverboy. My father gave me a cat, and he really means a lot to me. Can he stay in the studio for a few days, because I know that you love me so much?"

Nigel chuckled, then rested his brow against her crown. "This may be a prudent time to mention that I am very, very allergic to cats."

The corners of her lips curled. "Then it might also be prudent to tell you I find your sneezing very, very charming." She drew back and emphasized it with a quick flick of her fingertip along the angled underside of his nose. It was still soft and warm and raw, she actually felt it twitch to the touch just before he averted himself to one side with a weakened atomizer sound.

"-heh-chshh!"

It was just enough to make his nose drip. He drew away to clear his throat and tend to it. "Don't tease, gorgeous, or I may change my mind."

Gabi knew that she already had him eating from her palm, but strolled afterwards with hands on her hips and elbows canted backwards.

"Oh, I'm not teasing. You didn't notice my enthusiasm last night?"

Nigel flashed her a suspicious eye, black and shining. "I'd been gone."

She shrugged. "You've been gone before. You were a hot mess, all itchy and sniffling and pissed off. You know how I love a wounded animal."

Nigel continued to regard her warily, but little by little, amusement filtered back into his expression. "I see. And what are you calling your other wounded animal? You're bleeding, by the way."

Gabriella glanced down at the welts beading on her arm in surprise. She crossed to the sink and ran her arm under the faucet until the cold of the water abated the stinging itch of the soap. She pressed a paper towel to the puffy streaks and hoped her father was serious about the cat being thoroughly vaccinated. "Dvorak, but he's such a little asshole, I may call him Nigel."

Nigel caught her injured arm, and gently kissed the center of each cut. "Better not, don't want him to come running to the bedroom when he thinks you're calling his name."

She sputtered a laugh and gave him a ruthless shove. "Go take your pants off and we'll see, loverboy. I'm going to make sure he's not traumatized for life, and get you an antihistamine."

Nigel gave her a wry smile, and retreated into the bedroom.

Edited May 1, 2014 by Garnet

[AngelEyes]

Oooh. Lovely!

[tenderwarrior]

Garnet! I really, really enjoyed this mainly because I have a thing for allergies and also your writing is great. I've never watched The Necessary Death of Charlie Countryman and I can't really since I don't have Netflix anymore, but I'll keep it on my list. Anyway, this was so

[Kildre]

Aw, I'm so happy to see this! I loved Charlie Countryman so much and I had such a soft spot for the relationship between Nigel and Gabi. And yeah, they were both WAY too hot. I honestly never expected to see fic for this film, let alone well-written fetish fic, so this is awesome. Mess isn't usually my thing, but you really made it work here. <3

[Garnet]

AngelEyes - Thank you! :>

greetingsfromboston - Aw, I'm extra glad you read it, then! I realized that I really don't do enough with allergies, and cat sensitivities are always a favorite of mine. VoOs does such a good job with them that I had to take another stab.

It's an... interesting movie! It goes in a few different directions, but it's worth it to me to see Mads beat the piss out of Shia LaBeouf for a couple hours :|

Kildre - Nnnnh me too, I just wanted to know so much more about the background of everyone. Of course the audience is set up to only see it through Charlie's eyes to emphasize that fish out of water feeling, but still.

Thank you! I wasn't sure that mess was my thing either, but I've been writing so much hyper-restrained, dignified Hannibal setting sneezing that it was kind of fun to just be gross and who-gives-a-damn with Nigel. Because he's nasty.

[SterlingSilver]

Garnet fiction, yessssss~~~~ *rolls around happily*

I've never heard of this fandom, but I have to say, I fell in love with Nigel pretty quickly~

You write him with such a nice, volatile temperament x33. It seems like you really know the characters~

And I always appreciate how well you characterize the sneezing too! Those sneezes fit him as a person <33.

Fantastic show, as always, my dear~~ Absolutely delicious >w<~

[Anonymouse]

Unfortunately I read this on my phone so I won't be able to give my usual sprawling commentary but I LOOOOVED this with a capital L and some extra O's. I saw you write on another topic that you're flattered when people read your stuff for no other reason than because you wrote it, and I can't think of many authors besides yourself that I do that for. Haven't seen the movie but with your stories I'm more willing to step out of my comfort zone and I'm so glad I did. Add this to my list of forum fics I'll be coming back to several more times to enjoy.

[VoOs]

I haven't seen this movie, but Garnet fic + Mikkelsen character + allergies = verrrry happy VoOs. :yes:

[March Hare]

Oh look it's my fix

WOW SUCH PORN VERY LOVE MUCH HOT.

Back when can brain.

[Garnet]

BlackScatter - Awww yay, thank you! Haha, I loved Nigel too (more than the protagonist, incidentally) even though he is quite a few different kinds of screwed up. I'm glad my winging it with the characterization translated to competence, lol. Appreciate you reading!

AnonyMouse - HNNNGH thank you ;_; I wasn't kidding when I said how much I appreciate that, especially since I've meandered off into left field with fandoms lately. Fortunately this one doesn't require much backstory knowledge or anything, since he didn't have that big a part in the film.

I think I have maybe four or five people that I will read regardless of the "setting" as well (you included, of course).

VoOs - There's just something about the ugly-hots, isn't there? Thank you, dear! I super appreciate the read, especially since, as I mentioned above, I always love your allergy fics.

Maru - WOW THANK. MUCH PLEASED. MAY OR MAY NOT BE WRITING MORE (ACTUAL) PORN AS WE SPEAK.

[March Hare]

Nigel paced through their sprawling flat and sneezed like a showerhead stuck on pulse

Every time I think the descriptions have all been used, you come up with one that is both new and my undoing. GAGKLGSHSFLSFDLAJFKHS.

[Bruyere]

I've not seen this film either but I don't think that diminished my enjoyment of this one bit. I don't know Nigel as a character but from his job and being played by Mads Mikkelsen he strikes perfectly at that intersection of tough guy being bought down by tiny cute furry animal that is irresistible to me.

Gabriella felt the swell of his frustration like a rising tide, setting off a mental ping of warning even as her exhilaration kited bright and wild and strange in her mind.

I love this line.

He evacuated sneeze after ticklish sneeze in an effort to scratch the itch in his sinuses. Expression crinkled, head ducking as each spray of irritation caught the morning sunlight and evaporated on the air. In the interim, he would itch his nose so hard that it produced a soft, wet clicking sound and turned pink at the septum. It was grotesque, and beautiful.

This really should be kind of gross and yet it's just incredibly hot.

Also goofy is the perfect way to describe Coppelia. /Heroically does not leave another 1000 words of thoughts on this ballet.

[mystic-chibi]

I watched this movie last week and I love love LOVE this story! Mads Mikkelsen's Nigel so gorgeous and I just love how you made him all sniffly and sneezy. Mmmmmmm