Curses, Foiled Again (SPN)

[Anilkex]

Half-day left before the school year officially ends. Can. Not. Wait. Been sitting on this story, mostly finished, for like, a month. UGH! Several prompts asked for variations on sneeze curses, so here's my contribution.

Day 1

Sam peeled open an eyelid and stared blearily at the clock. It was barely seven in the morning. He had been up until well after two taking care of an English Lit assignment. Why the hell was he awake?

He let out a jaw-popping yawn and stretched lazily.

“ESCHH-uhh!”

He sneezed into his pillow, rolled over and went back to sleep.

Day 2

Sam loved spring. It was such an anti-hunting season - everything about it was so positive. His roommate had allergies, but Sam was lucky enough not to have that burden, so he decided to walk to class.

He adjusted his backpack and began the trek across the quad. He got about halfway, when it started...an annoying itch, way in the back of his sinuses. He tried rubbing his nose, pinching it, scrubbing at it, but it wouldn’t go away.

It nagged him all the way to his class, ruining the walk entirely. His eyes watered a little, and he sniffled constantly. Just as he reached his classroom, it hit full force. “Heh-HETSCHHYUUuu! Hp’TSCHCHCHUhhh!”

He froze, waiting...waiting...nothing. The itch was completely gone. Satisfied that he showed it who was boss, Sam sniffed once more, and stepped into his math class.

Day 5

Sam stood in line at the grocery store, waiting to check out. He had a good day - aced a test, turned in a killer paper, and finished all his homework at the library.

Time to celebrate with peanut butter.

He counted four people ahead of him. Good thing he was patient.

When he was second in line, and all his food was on the conveyer belt, he reached into a pocket for his wallet. Without any warning whatsoever, “Hetschch! Itschchch! Etschhh! Hrschch! Tschchh!”

“Goodness! Bless you!” The older lady in front of him tsk’d at him. “I hope you’re not catching cold!”

Sam smiled, embarrassed, and snagged a pocket sized hand sanitizer bottle off the rack.

Day 9

The student lounge on his dorm floor only held Sam’s study group, frantically trying to prepare for a major test the next day. All five of them were sharing notes, quizzing each other, insulting the professor, and planning for the decompression dinner after the exam.

Sam wiped a hand across his face. He was so tired.

Mike waved a hand at their books. “This suuuuuuuuucks!”

There were grunts of agreement, and Sam got up to sharpen his pencil in the electronic device on the counter. Two steps over, his breath hitched. “Ahhh-choo!” He frowned - they sounded like those cliche sneezes from cartoons.

An absent sounding, “Bless you…” came from the table.

“Thanks,” Sam said, rubbing his nose and proceeding to the sharpener. “Ahh-choo! Achoo! Heh-choo! Hp’choo!” He sniffled, leaned on the counter, and caught his breath.

“Whoa, Sam...you okay?”

A blush creeped up Sam’s face, and he flapped a hand at his friends. “Yeah, I dunno, I just...uhhh….heh...Ha’atchoo! Achoo! H’choo! Ah’choo!”

Jerry turned around. “Jesus, Sam! Nine?”

Sam blinked his watery eyes. “Ugh...I...yeah…*sniff* I’ll be right back,” he stammered, hurrying to the bathroom.

Day 10

The test complete, Sam’s study group headed to the local diner for a celebratory dinner.

“Midterm conquered!” Sean crowed, clapping Sam on the back.

“Christ, I hope I didn’t fail,” Sam said, kicking at a stray pebble on the sidewalk.

Mike rolled his eyes. “Like that’s even remotely a possibility. Seriously, Sam, you spend way too much time doubting how smart you are.”

Sam blushed, hiding a smile. He’d texted Dean already, telling him he was fairly sure he nailed it.

They reached the diner, and Mike held the door open for everyone. Just before stepping through the doorway, Sam pitched forward, stifling sneezes into the crook of his arm. “Hh’Ngxt! Hgnt! Hgnxnxt! Mphphph! Hgnxt! Hp-ngt! T’shht! Ngxtgt! Hrgnnxt! Itschgt!”

He braced himself against the doorframe, panting hard, painfully aware of the many eyes staring at him.

Sean put a hand on his shoulder. “Christ, Sam! That was ten! You trying to beat your record one sneeze at a time?”

He clapped Sam on the shoulder, and walked past him into the diner. He was making a joke - of course he was. But Sam’s mind started turning...

Day 14

Sam paced his dorm room, chewing on a fingernail, waiting for Dean to answer his fucking phone. He only had twenty minutes before his roommate would be back, and he was hoping to get through the phone call without being interrupted.

By anything.

Finally, the phone picked up. “Hey - this is Dean Winchester…” Godfuckingdammit! “...I’m sorry I can’t take your call right now. Please leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I’m sober.”

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

Sam stopped pacing, and spoke in a rush. “Dean - please - call me back as soon as you can. I need your help, and I - shit - HETSCHHH! Itschchch! HETSCHHH! Itschchch! HETSCHHH! Itschchch! HETSCHHH! Itschchch! HETSCHHH! Fuck - Itschchch! HETSCHHH! Itschchch! HETSCHHH! Itschchchhhhhhuh!!”

At some point during the fit, Sam dropped the phone and stepped on it, cracking it. He sank to the floor, holding his head in his hands. He didn’t have the money to get a new one, so he’d have to try calling Dean later on someone else’s phone.

He shakily wiped his nose with a Kleenex, praying that Dean’s overbearing maternal instincts would kick in and he’d hightail it to Palo Alto.

He prayed, because he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

Day 14.5

Dean stepped out of the shower, feeling pretty fucking good. He nailed the hunt last night, he nailed the waitress after that, and now he’s ready to take a couple days off and work on the Impala.

Dean checked his phone while towel drying his hair. One missed call from Sam. He smiled a little - he hadn’t seen the brat in a couple months.

He punched in the code and listened to the message.

When it finished, Dean stared at the phone for about ten seconds, before calling Sam back. Okay, so the kid was sick. Not a big deal. That sneezing fit was rather epic, he admitted to that, but he was just sick.

And he called asking for his brother.

Dean absently began shoving things into his duffel while the phone rang. Irritated when Sam’s voicemail picked up, he said, “Sure - leave me a message while I’m in the shower, and don’t pick up when I get out. Call me back and take some medicine!”

He snapped the phone shut, and tapped it against his chin. “Well,” he said to the empty room, “I can work on the Impala in Palo Alto.”

(Barely) Day 15

Dean sped down the highway, fingers drumming against the steering wheel while Air Supply blared on the stereo.

What happens in the Impala when alone, stays in the Impala…

He was pretty pissed that Sam still hadn’t answered his phone or called him back. Dean knew it was ridiculous to be paranoid over sneezing. Sam didn’t sound like he was dying or even hurt.

But he said he needed Dean’s help.

But he was just sneezing.

But he sneezed a fuckload.

Dean sighed for the hundredth time that hour, and pressed harder on the accelerator.

Just as he was belting the chorus for “Even The Nights Are Better”, his phone rang. Jumping like he’d been stung, Dean flipped off the stereo, caught his breath, then checked the Caller ID.

Unknown Number.

What the hell? He was about to fling his phone into the passenger seat and get back to his jam, when it occurred to him - a hospital may have an unknown number.

“Hello?” He asked.

“Dean?”

“Sam! What the fuck, man? Why haven’t you answered your phone? Why didn’t you call me back sooner? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

There was a huff on the other end, and Dean thought, Oh, hell no! “Sam!”

“I broke my phone while sneezing, and I can’t afford a new one. I had to wait until someone would let me call you back.”

Dean frowned. “You broke your phone while sneezing? What the hell does that mean?”

Sam sighed. “I think I’m cursed.”

“You’ve always thought you were cursed.”

Sam angry-sighed. “No, Dean, I mean it. I think I got whammied by someone…”

Dean’s forehead wrinkled. “Dude - who would whammy you at fucking Stanford?”

“How the fuck should I know? That’s why I need your help!”

“Okay, hold on. What makes you think you’re cursed?”

There was another sigh, and a long pause.

“...Sammy?”

“I’ve been sneezing a lot.”

Dean blinked. “And?”

Huffy McHufferson blew out a breath. “And I hardly ever sneeze, Dean. But every day, for the last two weeks, I’ve been sneezing.”

Dean chuckled. “Hey, Sam? It’s called catching a cold. Or allergies. Or a cold allergy. Sneezing doesn’t mean you’re cursed, dude.”

“Dean, I’m not sick. And you know I’m not allergic to anything.”

“You could have developed an allergy.”

“Pretty sure I didn’t develop an allergy.”

Dean figured Sam was being a bit dramatic. “Sam...seriously. Sneezing when you don’t normally sneeze doesn’t mean - “

“I’m sneezing in patterns.”

Silence.

“Say again?”

“I said, I’m sneezing in patterns. I know I’ve been cursed for fifteen days, because whatever day of the curse it is, that’s how many times I sneeze.” Dean didn’t know what to say to that, so he kept quiet. “And there’s more. Every day, it’s a different kind.”

Now he had to say something.

“What do you mean a different kind? How are there different kinds of sneezing? You just sneeze!”

Another huff. “That’s what I thought, until I discovered fourteen different ways to sneeze.”

“Uh…”

“One day they were explosive and fast. Another I stifled every one, whether I wanted to or not. Still another day, they were...um...messy.”

“Okay, stop describing. So let me get this straight. On day one, you sneezed once. On day two, you sneezed twice, on day ten you sneezed...ten times?”

“Yup.”

“And each day is a different sneeze pattern?”

“Yup.”

“Only you, Sammy. Only you.”

“You believe me now?”

Dean sighed. “Yeah...it sounds like you have yourself a situation.”

“So…?”

“I’ll be there in three hours.”

xxx

Dean rocked back on his heels while waiting for Sam to let him in the dormatory. He glanced at his watch. He studied everyone nearby. He carefully looked around for any signs of witchcraft.

Nothing.

Finally, Sam pushed open the door, looking like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Jesus, Sam. You okay?”

Sam muttered, “Everyone keeps asking me that.”

“Yeah, well you’re the one who’s cursed, so you get to be asked.”

Dean followed Sam into the elevator. Sam pressed the button and sighed. “I have the room to myself for the next week - Jake went home for his sister’s wedding. So we have some privacy.”

Dean thunked his bag to the floor. “What’d he think of this?

Sam shrugged. “He wasn’t around for every fit, so I dunno. But he did witness day twelve, and that may have freaked him out a little.”

Dean chuckled just as the elevator dinged and they headed down the hallway to Sam’s room. A few random guys waved or nodded, to which Sam responded. Dean watched them all - no one seemed unfriendly or creepy.

They reached Sam’s room, and quickly shut the door behind them.

Dean tossed his duffel on Sam’s bed. “Okay, so today is day…?”

Sam sat down, arms folded across his chest. “Fifteen.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Fifteen, huh? Ooooo-kay. Did you, uh, sneeze today?”

Miserably, Sam shook his head. “Not yet. There’s no way to predict when it’s gonna happen, either. I could be in class, sleeping, eating, walking, whatever. There’s no pattern there.”

“Well, while we wait, fill me in on what you’ve been doing.”

They spent the better part of an hour going through all of Sam’s interactions, from the girl behind the counter at the coffee shop to his roommate and close friends. Dean couldn’t find anyone who would’ve had a motive for cursing his brother.

Dinnertime approached, and Dean announced that food was necessary to keep this investigation going. They stood up - and then Sam sat right back down.

“Okay…” he said breathlessly. “Here…here-we-go - H’chh! H’chht! Hih’chh! Heh’shht! H’shh!” He paused a moment, scrubbing his nose. These were fast and soft, almost whispery, easily buried in the crook of his arm. “Sobetibes they...shit - H’chh! H’chht! Hih’chh! Heh’shht! H’shh! H’echh! T’shh! T’shht! Hesch! Chhtt!”

Dean felt completely helpless standing there, watching Sam sneeze for fifteen fucking times. “Oh, wow…”

Sam nodded, reaching for a tissue. Make that several tissues. After blowing his nose, he leaned back, catching his breath. “Sobetibes they’re fast...sobetimes dot so buch.”

Dean blinked at him. “I thought you were being a drama queen, but that was...okay. We have work to do.”

Day 19, noon

Sam sat on his bed, huddled under a blanket. A half-empty tissue box sat next to him, resting against his knee. One hand held a mass of tissues, the other rubbed his nose furiously.

Dean scowled at a legal pad covered in scribbled notes. “There has to be something.”

Sam sniffled. “I told you - I could’t fide ahhhh….addy...addything-Hiiiiiihhhhhh’tschchhhyuu!”

Dean made a tally mark on the corner of of the paper. “That’s seven.” He glanced at his brother, who was back to rubbing his nose. “I guess these are drawn out, huh?”

There was a sigh, then Sam nodded wretchedly. “Cad’t stop iiiii--itching--Heh’tschchchhh-uhhh!”

Another sigh, another tally.

The pen clattered to the table. Dean leaned back and rubbed his eyes. “Okay...we seriously have nothing, here. The only thing I can come up with, is you got caught in the crossfire of something, making all this accidental.”

“Hhhhhh-HESCHCHEWwww!”

Tally.

“Maybe while you were in class, some bitch cast a spell against a sorority sister, so she’d get asked to the dance.”

“Hehhhhh...hhhhhhh…”

“Or, I dunno, a dude didn’t want a rival to get into a fraternity, so he tossed out a whammy and hit you instead.”

“Ehhhh-TSCHHCHHYUuuu!”

Tally.

“Or maybe - “

“Deand! Cut it out. *sniff* Just bake it stahhh...stop. Hehhhh-Hp’TSCHHHCHHYUUuu!”

Tally.

“Sam - how can I make it stop if I don’t know what made it happen in the first place? C’mon, man, I know this sucks - “

“Hhh-hih-hiiihhh-etTSCHEW! How buch bore?”

Dean sighed. “Seven.”

Sam groaned, falling back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. As sneeze number thirteen took hold, he let his body just flop on the mattress, not caring how ridiculous he looked. “Hhhhhh-HESCHCHYuuu!”

“Can’t you sneeze faster?”

Sam raised his head and glared. It didn’t last long, though. “Ehhhh-HURSHHHEWww!”

Dean sighed. Five more to go. Honestly, he didn’t know how Sam held on - each sneeze seemed to sap a little more strength out of him.

“Ehhhh-TSCHHCHHYUuuu!”

Four more.

“You know what? I feel like you should at least be sick or something. All you do is sneeze, then you’re fine. Stupidest curse I’ve ever seen.”

“Haaahhhhh-TSCHCHSHHYUUUuu!”

“I also feel like I’m talking to myself.”

“Hehhhh-etTSCHEW!”

“Or it’s the worst conversation ever.”

“Hiiiihhh-TSCHHCHHYUuuu!”

“Last one, Sammy.”

“Heh’tschchchhhoooo!”

“Finally. Can we get lunch, now?”

Day 20, late afternoon

“Sam.”

“No.”

“So, we’re gonna hide in your dorm room for the rest of the year?”

Bitchface. “Dean - I’m up to twenty sneezes in a row. How the fuck am I supposed to go to class? Or to the store? Or Christ, on a date?”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Something you not telling me?”

Eyeroll. “Dean, you know what I mean.”

Dean sighed. “Okayokayokay. I know what you mean. I just don’t like it. You’re at Stanford on a full ride, and instead of going to class, you’re sneezing in private.”

Sam was pacing the tiny room, chewing on a fingernail. “What am I supposed to do? What if this thing is set for a year?” He stopped and faced Dean in horror. “Oh my God. How would I deal with three hundred sneezes a day? I could...fuck...I could die!”

Dean knew he had to stop the panic train immediately. “Sam, stop being an idiot. This won’t last much longer, then you can go back to class.” One thing he loved about being a big brother was making shit up.

“You have no way of knowing that.” He also got to hear that line a lot.

“Yes, I do. Look man, if I could be cursed instead of you, I’d do it so you could keep up in school. But I can’t, so we gotta figure out a way for you to make the best of it.”

“There is no best of it,” Sam insisted, resuming the pacing and fingernail chewing. “I’m fucking on edge here...it’s almost four and I haven’t sneezed yet. I keep waiting, and nothing happens, and then it’ll happen, and - “

“Sam! Do I gotta slap you to make you stop?”

Sam sighed, and sat on his bed.

“You have got to - “ Dean’s phone rang, jiggling on the table since he also set it to vibrate. “Fuck - it’s Dad.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Does he know you’re here?”

Dean glanced at him while reaching for the phone. “I messaged him, yeah, but he doesn’t know why I’m here.” Frowning, Dean answered the phone. “Hey, Dad…”

Sam knew Dad barely tolerated Dean’s visits. It wasn’t forbidden, but it was definitely not encouraged. If Dean was there, Sam had to keep quiet, just to keep the peace.

He absently diddled line designs on a paper while listening to John, occasionally letting out uh-huh or hmmm.

Sam kept pacing, one eye on Dean’s doodles, feeling more anxious and restless than before. When Dean looked up at him again, speaking into the phone, “He’s in the shower. Why? What’s up?” Sam paused, eyes narrowed and locked on Dean’s.

“No, he seems okay…”

Sam’s eyebrow rose, Dean shrugged.

“You know - same old Sam. Whining about grades, freaking out because he got an A instead of an A+. The usual.” Sam’s look soured, Dean just grinned. “You sure nothing’s up?” As John spoke, Dean’s eyebrows rose, along with Sam’s curiosity. “Oh...yeah...okay...yeah, I can stay a few more days and keep an eye on him...if anything weird happens, I’ll call you. Sure. Take it easy...yeah...bye.”

Dean snapped the phone shut and stared at it. Sam almost exploded. “What’d he say??”

Dean set the phone down and looked up at Sam. “Well, looks like Dad had an encounter with a couple witches.”

Sam pounded a fist against the wall. “I knew it had to be something. It figures that it’s ITSCHCH!!!” He interrupted himself with a sneeze so forceful, he bent almost in half.

“Jesus! Bless you!”

Sam sniffed carefully as he straightened up. “Great. Now there’s...there’s twenty...twen...tee… HETSCHH! ETSCHH! ITSSSCHHH!”

Ignoring the sneezing, Dean continued. “So anyway, Dad didn’t go into details, but - “

“ATSCHHSH! EHTSCHHH!” Sam made a scramble for the tissue box, which Dean calmly handed over.” “TISHSHSCHH! HITSCHCH!”

“ - But I’m thinking the curse somehow got you instead of him.”

“HRSCHCHH! ITSCHHHCH! HATSCHCH!” Sam stumbled to his bed, face covered with tissues.

Dean put his feet up and continued. “He didn’t seem to know that it was a sneezing curse, and obviously he doesn’t know you got it, so - “

“ITSCHCHCH! ETSCHCHCH! HETSCHCHH! HRSCHCH!”

“ - we still don’t know when it’ll stop. But he obviously thought it might affect one of us, since he called.”

“T’SCHCHH! Eh’TSCHCH! Hp’TSCHHHCH! IH’HRSCHCH!”

Sam sat panting, trying to catch his breath.

“One more, Sammy, then you’re - “

“HETSCHCH!”

“...done.” Dean put his feet on the floor. “Okay there, Tiger?”

Sam nodded, face still buried in tissues.

“Awesome. Well, you’re done for today. Let’s see what happens tomorrow.”

Day 1

Tomorrow came. Sam passed the day pacing the room. Dean watched TV.

No matter how much Dean tried to get Sam to go somewhere and act normal, Sam hunkered down, refusing to leave the room. When he started talking about leaving school, Dean had enough.

"Sam! Knock it off!"

"Dean! I can't do this and be at school! I'm waiting for twenty-one sneezes to strike and - "

Dean sighed and went for gentle. "I know, man. Like I said. If I could do this for you, I totally would. I don't know how I can. Dad want real specific, And I...uh...hih...hetschh! *sniff* if there was anything I cuhhh...could itschh! Hrshshh!”

The both froze - staring at each other.

“Dean…?” Sam asked.

Dean flapped a hand at him, mouth already open and his face scrunched up. “Hrschchh! Itschhchsh! Hatschch! *sniff* Hih-Tschch! Et’tschch! Eschch! Hetschch!” He paused, catching his breath, throwing Sam a look.

Sam sat down, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “Oh fuck, Dean, you said...you said you’d do this for me if you could. What if - “

Dean shook his head, grabbed some tissues, and pressed them to his face. “Tishshch! Hitschch! Ischchh! Hih’Atschch! Itschch! H’schch! *sniff* Whoa...this is - Hetschch! Itschch! Hih-Tschch! Et’tschch!”

Twenty. Sam counted twenty sneezes. That’s where he left off, so either Dean would hit twenty-one, or he was matching what Sam did yesterday. He chewed on a fingernail and waited.

Dean kept a mass of tissues over his face and waited.

When nothing happened for over a minute, Dean lowered the tissues and inhaled experimentally. Sam didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath, and slowly let it out.

Still nothing.

“Okay…” Dean croaked. “Guess I’m done.” He sniffled and rubbed at his eyes.

Sam snorted. “For today. Gotta see what happens tomorrow.”

Day 4

Dean was going insane in his motel room. He couldn’t drive until his sneezing fit du jour passed. Sometimes it was too late to start driving.

Like today.

He glanced at his watch. Nine o’clock. Dean sighed, and sat back down on the bed, reaching for the remote. Just as his fingers wrapped around it, his phone rang.

Sam.

“Hey, Sammy. How’re you doing?”

He was rewarded with a huff. “I’m still fine - no sneezing at all. How’re you doing? I still think you should’ve stayed here until this thing passes.”

Dean turned on the tv, muting the sound. “Nah...you have shit to do. I can sit in a motel room and sneeze anywhere.”

“You’re bored as fuck, aren’t you?”

“It’s not so bad if I sneeze early. But when it’s nine and it hasn’t hit yet…”

“Jesus, you’re still in Nevada?”

“Yup. Can’t chance crashing Baby.”

“What’d Dad say?”

Dean shrugged. “Eh...not much. Didn’t tell him it hit you - just me. He wants me in Nebraska, but understands that I’m not all that reliable right now.”

“*sigh* I still say you should’ve stayed here.”

“Dude. I’m good. Go study. I’ll come back soon so we can actually visit. Okay?”

They said their goodbyes and Dean flopped onto the bed. He’d just found a documentary on Ancient Egypt when they hit. “H’chh! H’chht! Hih’chh! Heh’shht! H’shh! H’chh! H’chht! Hih’chh! Heh’shht! H’shh! H’echh! T’shh! T’shht! Hesch! Chhtt! H’chht!”

And that was why he wouldn’t drive until they passed. He knew, with certainty, that a fit like that would’ve run him off the road. It hit without warning, and didn’t stop until all sixteen were done.

He ran some Kleenex under his nose, sighed, and turned off the light. He wasn’t gonna start driving now.

Day 10

Dean furiously scrubbed at his nose, trying like hell to stop the incessant itching. He paused, leaning against the Impala, and waited. Finally, “Hiiiihhh-TSCHHCHHYUuuu!” He sniffled and sighed. Only four to go.

“Hehhhh-Hp’TSCHHHCHHYUUuu!”

Make that three.

He slowly opened the driver’s door and sat behind the wheel. The itching was such a Goddamn pain in the ass. “Heh’tschchchhh-uhhh!”

Dean put the key in the ignition, knowing that there was only one left for today. It was almost noon, and if he could get this last one out - “Hp’TSCHCHCHUhhh!” - he could get on the road.

“Yes!” Dean blew his nose, and pulled out of the gas station.

Day 15

John was watching him out of the corner of his eye. Dean knew this, but tried to ignore his father’s scrutiny, focusing on lathering his pancakes with butter and syrup.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Dean rolled his eyes, spearing a nice chunk of flapjacks. “I’m fine, Dad. It’ll hit, then be done.” He shoved the food in his mouth, trying to appear nonchalant. He was down to only five a day. He could handle five easily.

Dad didn’t have to know that nineteen was a bitch.

John sighed. “Yeah, but - “

Dean’s head snapped forward, “Hp-ngt! T’shht! Ngxtgt! Hrgnnxt! Itschgt!”[co

[Mustang]

Day 19, Noon was my absolute favorite day. It took me a while to figure out what was going on. Very well written!

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

Holy mother of Cas....

...

... ... ...

... ... ... ... ...

I love you

[luckyleprechaun]

THIS IS GENIUS!!!

So well written.

[HPG]

So so so good!!!

[anna]

Day 19, Noon was my absolute favorite day.

Saaaame. Love it.

[AngelEyes]

Awesome

[27jj]

HEEEEEEE I loved this so much. Day 19, mmmm. Excellent job!

[Sawyer]

The thing about the different styles, and hearing them described by someone without the fetish. Oh my god! Thank you thank you thank you.

[Always-a-Ginger]

I love that I found myself trying to figure out the pattern

I love the sneezes

I love that when I did figure out the pattern it shifted

I love that the styles mirrored each other

I just plain love this

[Sass]

I really enjoyed this fic! great idea for a plot with the curse! Also I have to ask, are you the same anilkex from fanfiction.net? Cos if so I loved your story "So now we now" I don't think I have seen it on the forum but it is one of my favs because it has a great dynamic between all the characters.

[Anilkex]

Thanks for all the kind words.

S.S. Smithington - yes, I'm on ff.net, and yes, that's my story. Glad you like it. It's not really one for this forum, which is why I never posted it here. I'm guessing you read other stories in that 'verse...and some of them have been posted here.

Thanks again!