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cheesycatz · 4 months ago

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The Making of: Life-Size Malworm Plush

(Wormton AU)

STATS

16 ft 3 in (495 cm) long

Total time: 150 hours

Material Cost: $124

Theoretical minimum cost (based on seamstress wage): $2,524

(Progress photos and commentary below)

I'll be referring to my life-size wormton plush as "malworm" for convenience sake.

Unlike my Spamton NEO, Caine, and Fake Peppino plushies, I didn't spend a lot of time on concept art. Since I planned to make the malworm plush as close as possible to its 2D design, I didn't have to add much stylization, other than simplifying some details (no way in hell was I going to make 104 separate embroidered stitches for the segments of his toes, sorry). I mainly used the planning stage to calculate how wide the body pieces needed to be, plotting it out in 1/4 in : 3 in scale and using circumference formula to find the values I needed. I planned to make it around 10 feet long, the length of a young adult malworm. A lot of this project was improv, but, I mean, it wasn't my first or second or third time making a spamton centipede.

The head was quite a complicated shape, so I carved a tiny model out of craft foam, covered one half of it in masking tape, then cut the masking tape mask (hah) into flat pieces. I then traced the pieces onto graph paper and manually scaled them up by using the fact that I wanted the nose to be 1 ft long as reference. The rest of the pattern pieces were very simple, as wormton's teeth, body, legs, etc were very easy to translate into 2D shapes. I used old school notes as paper for the body, as I needed a lot of it. It was entertaining cutting exerpts of Moby Dick and English Renaissance biographies into body parts. I ended up making the body significantly longer; I had to spend $100 dollars on fur anyways, so why not make a maximum size one?

Making the pattern pieces took around 8 hours. While waiting for the fur to ship, I started cutting out the teeth, legs, and eyes. By the time the fur arrived, I had already sewn 36 worm teeth. I did an 11hr all-nighter to cut all the fur in one sitting the day it arrived. After a long vacuuming session and an uptake in the amount of polyester fiber in my lungs, I finished cutting the pieces, taking about 18 hours and 40 minutes.

As usual, the head was the first thing I worked on. It was...kind of wonky once I flipped it inside out. I trimmed some of the fur so that I could actually see what was happening. The main issues were the lack of any forehead, the nose being way too wide, and the cheeks being too flat. I did some ladder stitching as well as modifying the thing from the inside, and eventually made the head look much better. The cheeks still don't stick out that much still, but I'm happy with how the head looks now. I think it conquered the sopping wet owl resemblance. I inserted wire into the nose and jaws to help them keep their shape.

When I started this project, I wasn't sure whether to make it based off of Wormton or just a copyright-free malworm; I decided to do both. I went with red for the non-Spamton version, as I think it really fits the cartoony fly/mothman-style cryptid look malworms are supposed to have.

I sewed a square pouch into the throat and put in all those teeth. I used hot glue to wrap blue squares around a wire for the proboscis, because I think I would've gone bonkers cuckoo bananas if I had to hand sew that entire thing. The throat pouch holds the proboscis when it's not extended, as well as anything else I wanted to shove in there. I never measured it, but it's around 4-5 ft long. I finally made the Spamton... eye patches(?) and a pair of eyelids, though I didn't end up using them in the photo shoot. I also made a new pair of nostrils, as the old ones kind of got swallowed up from all the plastic surgery I was giving him

Now that the head was finished, I got to work on the body. I sewed the white belly and segments of the body together. I left most of the tail open, as the fur was too thick for me to flip it out at a certain point. I worked on the legs, next. After living out my cosplay dreams by putting the claws on my fingers like bugles chips, I grouped the claws together and sewed most of each leg and foot together, leaving me with many pairs of charred drumsticks (did not taste good)

I attached an extra long wire structure into each set of claws, then threaded the wire through each respective leg and stuffed them. I ladder stitched the claws to each foot, then stuffed each with some plastic beans in order to give the feet weight. I then finished sewing each foot shut. I now had a pile of disembodied limbs and one very long scarf.

I wound many long pieces of wire together to create an armature for the body. While the plush's body is way too heavy to be properly posable, the wire does still give some structure. I wrapped the extra long ends of the legs' wires to the metal spine, using the body's leg holes for reference. I then pulled the body up the metal armature like a sock.

I pulled the legs through their respective holes and stuffed the body. It was the first time the malworm was huggable! It's sort of like an oversized body pillow, in a way. I had to ladder-stich all the limbs, the head, and the rest of the tail, as it would've been completely impossible to flip inside out. It was quite difficult to do on furry fabric, and my thread frequently broke from the force I had to pull with to keep the stitches tight. Eventually, I got everything attached to some degree.

The last details I worked on were the mane, tail tufts, and scopula pads. The mane and tail tufts were ladder stitched onto the body, but I decided to use glue to attach the pads to the feet. I think the extra blue details make his proboscis fit much better, and who doesn't love spider paw pads? I also glued some velcro to the eye patches so that they stay attached better. They slide under the black eye rings.

My malworm was finally finished! I tried to put a lot of effort into the photo shoot so that people who don't know about the AU can enjoy it. I wanted to make it seem like some weird entity whose only goal is obtaining more Spamton brainrot. Hence it making Spamton on Mario Kart DS under the bed, obsessing over the Spamton Plush, inspecting the Spamton Shrine, and just generally harassing the photographer (me, I guess?). I wanted to capture the silliness, creepiness, and lack of respect for personal space that Spamton is known for. I thought about giving him a bag of doritos under the bed like that one image of the isopods eating them, but went with the DS instead. I thought it would be funny to see this thing playing Super Mario 64 DS (or Super Spamton 64) and here the "buh bye!" sound effect when it closes the DSi XL.

That's all from me, for now. I have other Wormton related matter to attend to.

Don't let the parasitic Spamton larvae bite

#wormton au #spamton #spamton fanart #deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #spamton g spamton #deltarune fanart #spamton deltarune #cheesycatz art posts #cheesycatz text posts #NOT FOR SALE you can't pry him from my cold dead hands

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yoursweetwife · 7 months ago

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hi i’m absolutely brain rottimg about dr ratio while trying to complete a lab report

just thinking about his partner complaining about statistics and about how they despise statistical analysis. they’ve got this report to do (i wonder where this idea is coming from…) and they’re dreading it

he notices them furrowing their brows as they input data into this analysis program, cursing under their breath.

“aeons, why is this so confusing…? the graphs they use… why can’t i tell if…” they’re mumbling under their breath, absolutely confused. they’ve actually been at it for a while, and ratio *hates* to admit that he’s beginning to miss their presence…

so he goes up and pries the laptop out of their hands, with a soft mumble of ‘you’re an idiot’ under his breath.

“i’ll help you out. it’s better than watching you fumble with the data like an idiot.” he says softly, but he really is too embarrassed to admit he would literally do their whole lab report for them if they asked him.

just thinking of soft fluffy dr ratio begrudgingly helping his partner suffer through their lab work. as a reward they smother him in kisses and he hates to admit he enjoys seeing them so happy and thankful…

GET HIM OUT OF MY BRAIN!!! IM BRAINROTTING!! I WANT HIM DEAD /J

Sorry, it took me a long time to respond to your request. Since you didn't specify gender, I decided to take a female reader

synopsis: [name] was tired and Ratio decided to help his lover

frmale!reader

Sitting on the flock sofa, Ratio looked up from his book from time to time to look at his watch. From the outside it may seem that he is completely calm, but inside the scientist was trying to overcome his own anxiety. Only the rapid tapping of his fingers on the pages of the book betrayed his irritation.

Ratio ran his hand through his disheveled hair and sighed irritably. How long he's been sitting here? Ever since you told him to go to bed alone because you had a lab report to fill out, and Ratio knew how much you hated that, but you hated asking him for help even more. And no matter how much Veritas respected you for this, your absence began to bother him.

And Ratio hates this feeling, now even being alone in the room seems like some kind of torture, he’s used to your more physical displays of affection, cuddling against his side, resting your head on his shoulder..

Quiet rustling noises made Ratio glance displeasedly towards the kitchen. He put the book on the coffee table and headed into the next room, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Already at the door frame, his golden eyes met your tired figure. He could hear you irritably whispering curses under your breath while writing something down, and Ratio began to fear that you were about to cry, seeing your completely confused face and futile attempts to fill out the table.

You didn't even notice his bulky figure standing right in front of you, and his worried expression never reached your eyes. For a couple of seconds, he had the urge to throw the ill-fated laptop out the window.

"Oh, I don't understand...what.."

Here again, Ratio rubbed the bridge of his nose, and with light steps walked straight to the table, before you even had time to come to your senses, as the gadget slammed shut in front of your face, making you flinch.

Veritas stands at the side of the table, keeping his hand on the computer and staring irritably straight into your tired eyes. His whole body was tense, as evidenced by the bulging veins on his strong arms and twitching muscles, you almost thought that he was going to scold you for your idiocy, as if you were one of his students.

"Veritas, what are you doing?"

He interrupted your question and leaned closer to your face, and you involuntarily held your breath, avoiding his assessing gaze and waiting for the next words.

“Idiot, how long are you going to rack your brain over such basic things? If you continue to stare mindlessly at the screen, knowledge will not appear in your head automatically.”

Ratio crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you expectantly. You laughed awkwardly and leaned back in your chair, relaxing for the first time in hours.

“What else could I do but stare mindlessly?”

You decided to joke to diffuse the tension. But your lover seemed to take it seriously and pointed to himself proudly.

"For example, asking me for help."

The look of surprise your face did not go unnoticed, but almost immediately it was replaced by a slight smile. Ratio's face relaxed a little, and his cheeks turned a light crimson shade.He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"I'll help you. It's better than watching you fiddle with data like an idiot."

In just a second he was sitting next to you, opening laptop to see what he had to work with. For aeons, he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible and be in a soft bed with you in his arms.

You silently watched Veritas’s actions, listening to his explanations, but your thoughts constantly went somewhere else. Contrary to popular belief, Ratio is quite a cute lover, especially in the mornings when he is too sleepy to try to act cool and confident. And his attempts to hide his need for you are adorable.

Soon the work was almost finished, and you even learned something during this time and helped Veritas, for which you received a dry “not bad,” but pride was visible in his eyes.

You couldn't help but yawn, causing tears to form in your eyes. Your lover shook his head softly. His sweet troubled woman.

"Time for bed, you look like you might faint from exhaustion."

“Thank you, Veritas, now I’ll clean everything up and we’ll go...”

Just as you reached for the mess on the table, Veritas stopped your hand, gently grabbing your wrist, and looked at you sternly.

"I'm pretty sure it can wait until tomorrow."

"But..."

With his free hand, Veritas lifted your chin while the other rested on your waist.

"No "but", we're going to the room now and you won't get out of bed until the next morning."

Ratio said, draw out each word. A deep blush filled your cheeks, for the first time Veritas looked so...needy, and he also seemed surprised by his own words.

Veritas let go of you almost immediately and turned away, trying to hide his red face, but you prevented him by grabbing both of his hands.

“It seems like I never thanked you for your help, does it?”

Your soft hands came to rest on his face, pulling him closer to place a light but passionate kiss on his lips. And Veritas wasted no time in deepening the kiss, leaning into your soothing touch.

If you always thank him like that, then he is ready to fill out thousands of such reports.

You soon broke contact and a few more quick kisses landed on his cheeks, forehead and nose, causing him to protest, but despite the outward hostility, Veritas clearly wanted more, and you were going to give it to him.

#hsr x reader #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio #female reader #hsr #dr ratio fluff #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader

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bonesandthebees · 22 days ago

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im confused sorry but why is everyone celebrating tommy, jack, and phil talking about dream that way?? im seeing a lot of mixed sides on them talking about this so im so sorry if you cant answer

oh boy anon uh. this is a bit like opening pandora's box ngl.

I don't know how much context to give but basically a very very pared down version is: back when the dsmp was in its heyday with cctommy being, yknow, 16 years old, there were some instances of interactions he and dream had that seemed off in certain ways, but given that us fans only saw the public thing + general fandom opinion of dream being very different at that time we generally tended to believe that the interactions were joking and friendly on all sides

over the years, as we've come to learn more about the person dream really is a lot of fans have looked back on these somewhat strange interactions with a more critical eye. specifically with the podcast clip I reblogged, tommy, jack, and phil were referring to a twitter interaction dream and tommy had back in 2021. tommy had made a dumb joke about dream, dream replied basically saying he made tommy's career and that tommy owed his success to him and even posted graphs of sub counts and stuff to prove his point?? I don't remember exactly what the reply was but it was along those lines and was strangely aggressive for an obvious joke tommy was making. so phil replied to dream with his own tweet basically saying "imagine taking credit for another creator's success because you helped guide them a bit" which was such an eloquent and simple takedown that the tweet has achieved somewhat legendary status in the fanbase lol

so yeah, in the podcast tommy, jack, and phil were talking about the behind the scenes of that whole thing basically revealing what most of us figured: tommy was joking and dream took it way too seriously and got aggressive publicly on twitter with someone who was ostensibly his friend, who he could've just dmed to clear things up. the reason phil jumped in is because tommy had dmed him at the time asking phil to help because he wasn't sure if dream was trying to joke as well or if he was genuinely pissed at him.

also on this podcast (which is a bonus episode only technically available on their paid patreon) tommy, jack, and phil all talked pretty openly about their true feelings regarding dream during that time and also now. basically, what phil and jack were both saying was there were a lot of red flags with dream's behavior back then with the way he treated the people around him. it's basically very cathartic for a lot of the fanbase to hear about this because we've all suspected for a long time there was a lot more animosity between cc's behind the scenes, especially after that spilled over to dream's public behavior on twitter.

sorry if that's not exactly coherent I am tired but I hope that explains things a bit

#also i have not actually watched the podcast ep yet this is what ive gathered from clips and friends liveblogging it #ask #anon #dream situation

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shapelytimber · 4 months ago

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Look, social media aus are very dumb but fun to do fklxkdk Illya would make short videos (mostly) about fashion, and Napoleon would be very unsubtle about being a Spy

I am formally apologizing to the uncle fandom for tiktoker Illya Kuryakin, I have no regrets (also @quijicroix is part responsible, being my evil advisor)

Here are the posts in details, and the profile pics :)

[COMMISSIONS]

No process this time, just me yapping for way to long about every choice and refs that went into this dumb au below vvv

Illya is younger than Napoleon (I usualy headcanon him at around 25 and Napoleon 35ish), so I think their use of social media would be quite different : hence Illya on Tiktok and Napoleon on Instagram. Also it's not the 60s so Illya can be like 10% less reppressed :)) but as a debuff Napoleon now has the technology to call him a nerd

Illya's page started as a cover for some affair, but he ended up kinda enjoying doing it in his free time. It's like a hobby for him, a way to experiment with fashion ! It's what made him want to pursue fashion design as a career after his curent spy job. And also I think he gets more and more nervous the more followers he gets, because as a spy having a chance to get recognise in the street is really bad dkdldlos Napoleon teases him endlessly that he became a tiktoker (as he should)-

Did I, at one point in the project, had to scrap the thirst trap idea to keep the fashion nerd vibes ? Yes I did, but just know he uses the "twink" tag :)

• The first post is a ref to the discotheque affair, not the best episode and a great miss for not including a disco Illya outfit, so I made him one to match the other :D

• The second is to the Hot number, but he gets to wear the thrush pattern !

• The third one is what made me do all of this ! Because, if you're not french, you might not know about one of my favorite yearly twitter threads : Met Gala outfits as INSEE graphs by Clara Dealberto ! Don't care about the met gala, but this is very funny :) and such a Illya Kuryakin thing to do kdkdkd

• fourth one isn't fashion related, it's a ref to popart and the "he has Dostoïevski eyes" line that made us laught a lot

• A little Fiddlesticks for the dog post, because it's a banger episode. Plus a nod to he dog expert from it, with whom Illya had palpable sexual tension fkfkfkl I like to think they kept contact ;) (shoutout to this fic (Intensity by AconitumNapellus) who absolutely get the vision, 10/10 guy to "cheat" on your boyfriend with)

• and the final one is a make over because of course it is

As for Napoleon, being older and less invested in this, an instagram made sense. But crutialy, I get such strong modern oss117 vibes from Napoleon (the way he shoots his gun, the goofy faces, the awkward stance everytime he enters a place, the inexplicable in universe rizz...) dkfkldls modern oss117 was a parody of both 60s james bond and older oss117 movies, but I'm now convinced they also whatched some uncle while doing these, it's just so obvious- anyway all this to say, in the second movie oss117 has to pose as a photographer and gets way too invested in his cover (it's his thing don't question it), and at the end of the movie we get to see all the photography he took during his mission..... Let me tell you how hard it was to resist him having an instagram full of blurry women on the street (canon 60s napoleon would have done it I'm sorry)- but what I kept was the pretty "badly" shot pics of random things, tho you sometimes get the odd decent pic taken by Illya. And he gets to be in a duck floatie as a treat and nod to oss <3

• Pinned post is because it became frustrating for him having to respond to people asking him if it was his real name or if he was a far right french man simping for Bonaparte

• first post is not a ref, but if my very sexy flat car was burning in the desert I would take a pic (ft Illya despairing) kdkdkd

• Duck floatie is a oss117 ref

• selfie with a beautiful woman (ft his finger), no ref I just love drawing women

• also Fiddlesticks for the cute Napoleon fox !! And to kinda link the two profiles :)

• and finaly Spy with my face ! He tried taking a picture of his date (I'll let you decide who it was), but oops front facing camera kdkdkdk

Can you tell I had a lot of fun doing this ? I love this show way to much omfg

PS : if you've never seen the recent oss117 movies, you should they funny ! But oh god some jokes are terrible- the first one is the best, minus one gay joke frankly not great. They nail the gay joke in the second one but oh god... They do not always win the 'is our character a piece of shit or is the movie problematic' gamble so be aware of that. And the 3rd one is shit don't bother

PPS : I don't use Tiktok, I tried my best to emulate the feeling of it but be aware I have no idea what I'm doing dkkdld

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bellewintersroe · 1 year ago

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Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter!

Max apologises to Leni for his actions prior to that evening. Leni doesn’t think she’s the one Max should be sorry to. Tension ensues. Kinda just a filler chapter.

Part 3, here is the link to part 2. Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow

My eyes lingered over the Dutchman, brows furrowing and stomach churning in a deeper guilt. I was meant to be working, having the lucky of doing it remotely, but a certain Max Verstappen was distracting me. It was quiet in the room that I sat in, that’s why I chose to sit there. I would be flying back to Monaco soon, a place that was starting to become my second home, before heading to Singapore for the race there. In the meantime, I wanted to spend time with my dad whilst I could, even if that meant working alongside him. “What’re you up to, Len?” He walked over, causing my trance on Max to fade. “Really boring documents.” I spun the laptop, sighing out with each work.

“Fun, why don’t you give it a rest and come look at the cars?”

“No, you’re a terrible influence!” I teased seeing him smirk in amusement. “I don’t even know what that stuff is, graphs? What for?”

“Comparing the growth over time of each client- ah, it’s not exciting.” I pulled my laptop back. “I have to get it done by 5 so..”

“Well if you fancy a break there’s some RB19’s that want looking at.” His brows perked, clearly confused as he scanned my work. Some of it was in French, due to the office being based in Monaco. I had to go in once a month or so for meetings, apart from that I’d bagged the most flexible career in scientific studies ever. I wasn’t sure how long it would last, my brains were there for it, but I had the tendency to get bored very easily.

“Okay, cool.” I muttered, getting back to my work.

During lunch, the area I was in got thankfully very quiet, that was apart from a certain Max Verstappen checking out his and Checo’s cars, analysing his test performances.

I felt a little awkward to call out to him, especially after what happened in the Uber. Even thinking about it made my cheeks warm yet my chest simultaneously drop from guilt. I would say mixed feelings, but the guilt clouded over anything else I felt towards Max. Even if I allowed myself for a second to day dream about him, the shame would creep up on me like no other.

I glanced up to him for a second, noticing he was glimpsing in my direction, he fiddled with his cap awkwardly and I felt my heart accelerate instantly.

“Everything alright, Max?” I broke the silence, thank god. It was becoming too much to bare. I acted focused on my laptop, but in reality I wasn’t reading a single word on that screen.

“Yeah.” He quickly spoke. “Are you?” His hand ran through his hair, messing it about slightly. He looked good like that, all dishevelled. He’d allowed his facial hair to grow out even more, not messy, just manly. I took a look of him up and down in his gym wear.

“Yeah, just working.” I shrugged. “Listen..” he suddenly spoke, making his way over as my eyes were now glued to the blonde man walking nearer. “Listen?” I had to play naive to what he was about to say, maybe I should act like I didn’t remember anything? Pretend it didn’t happen completely?

“I’m sorry for the other night, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything.” He came over to the table I was sat. Uncomfortable? Why would he make me feel uncomfortable when I was the one who probably started out with these feelings in the first place?!

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable.” My laptop was pushed aside now as I stared back to him from the other end of the table. He wasn’t so good at eye contact, not when he was shy. I always thought he didn’t like me growing up, but in reality he was just an awkward, teenaged boy. Max nodded along. “You know you’d never make me uncomfortable.” I reassured. “Okay, good, I just got a bit worried-” “No don’t be.” I quickly spoke. “It’s just-” Max’s eyes were on me now, the blue reflecting against the sun making them seem brighter than usual. It took me a moment to actually get my words out, Max could look a little intimidating at times, and right now he did. “Maybe I’m not the one you should be apologising to.” He immediately rubbed over his face. “She went home, I never saw her.”

“Flew home?”

“Flew home.” Max nodded as I exhaled. “Jesus.”

“It’s my fault but now it makes it harder to… you know.” I cringed at his words. “Harder to what? Break up?” The question fell out my mouth, sounding a little harsher than it intended to.

“Do you wanna grab some food, you know, with your dad?” He very quickly changed the topic as I frowned a little.

“No, I’m good.” The two of us were staring back to one another, as though we were about to engage in some weird confrontation. I didn’t like it. It felt tense, and it never felt like this between us. Max nodded, and went to turn around awkwardly.

“Let’s just… like try to forget anything happened. Like forget you told me anything in the first place.”

“Leni, you know that won’t work..” “Whatever tried happened the other night won’t work.”

“Leni…”

“Max, I’m serious. I don’t want to know anything else about you and Kelly, I feel bad for her.” I got a little carried away as Max blinked back to me. He looked shocked, even I was shocked.

“Okay.” He seemed to perk after a minute or so. “I was drunk you know, sorry for opening up to a friend.” I let out a deep sigh at his words, watching him fully walking away now. I didn’t have it in me to say anything else, it was painfully uncomfortable in the room after that, the conversation remained heavy on my mind and you best believe I left there as soon as I possibly could.

I was walking out of the training grounds, bag full of all my work stuff as I struggled in the intense, Italian heat.

“Leeeeennnnniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” A very dramatic call out of my name was the only thing persuading me to to turn back around.

“Oh, Lando!” I giggled out in amusement. The Brit jogged his way over, enveloping me in a quick hug. “How are you?” He questioned.

“Good, too fucking warm, but good- how about you?”

“I’m great, think I bagged myself a date for tonight.” He grinned. “Oh really? Who with?”

“Really attractive Italian girl, she’s called Mila. Look, I have pictures.” Lando pulled out his phone as I momentarily glanced up, only to see Max walking past with the same confused expression I had. I instantly looked away.

“Look, this is her…” he swiped through the pictures of the beautiful girl. “Wait, stop swiping so fast!” I laughed. “I’d pay to see your conversations with her. I hope you haven’t used anymore of those pick up lines.” I looked back up to Lando whose eyes roamed towards Max slightly.

“Oh is Max, hello!!” He waved out. Max gave out a kinda pathetic wave and half a smile with a quick greeting back before he headed off to the car.

“Well he seems happy, anyway, she…” Lando right, in a sarcastic sense. Max looked moody as hell, his jaw was tensed, even his walk was tensed. I hoped desperately I wasn’t the cause for that, and a slight panic washed over me at the thought of me causing that. Maybe I snapped a little earlier at him. Was I too blunt? I didn’t want to hurt his feelings… Fuck, my stomach was in knots, and when his car drove past, it really dawned on me how strong my feelings were for him. “She wears all these like Prada things, I think they’re fake but- are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, sorry Lando, keep going…” I was in fact not listening.

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 x reader

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minty-mumbles · 1 year ago

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Linked Universe Survey 2023

The long awaited results of the survey. Sorry it took me forever, making graphs is hard.

There were 452 responses to the survey as a whole, which is almost double what we got last year, so thank you to everyone who participated!

If you want to see the raw data, you can find that here. I had thoughts about the data, but compiling that into another post would be too much of a hassle. Feel free to send me asks about it though!

The rest of the post will be under a read more as it it large

Demographics

Other: Demigirl (4), Transmasc (3), Grey genderfluid, Unlabeled, Demiboy, Demiagender

Other: Omnisexual (4), Poly (2), Trixic, Abroromantic or Bellusromantic, Demisexual

General Questions

Other: Quotev, Discord, their own google docs

Other: Discord, Variations of "I haven't posted yet, but I pan to" and "I haven't posted my fics in ages",

Other: Wattpad, Deviantart, Discord

Other: Crochet dolls, Custom dolls, Roleplay blogs (2), Fan translations, Headcanons (2), Piano music

The purple section in the “Warriors vs Warrior” chart is supposed to read “Warrior.” I made a typo.

Favorites and Least Favorites

Selected Free Response Answers

im sorry warriors i just can't play your game (it is very very hard. i am stuck very early on in the game)

I love cats meow meow meow

was extremely tempted to put twilight for least favorite. unfortunately he is my favorite to write from the perspective of (he has taken over most of my wips. help) and that probably counts for something. WILD on the other hand. hooo boy how the hell do i characterize this gargoyle. why is he Like That. least favorite it is

Twiddy

very good fandom to be in :) everybody is very nice

It's a straight up crime that Wars lost the aesthetics poll so quickly. He has such a peak Link design with the best colors. Ugh I'm getting wistful.

FROGS. FROGS. FROGS. ALSO HAPPY PRIDE MONTH. FROGS. FROGS. FROGS. FROGS. FROGS.

I will fight Hylia herself and the next person who implies Twi can't handle spice. If we're going to lean into him being southern/Midwestern, which is an alright stero type for our rancher, please keep in mind the culture you're basing him off. The south and midwest can handle their spice, I assure you. Have you ever had authentic Louisiana gumbo? It will melt you tongue off. Or some good old fashion spicy fried chicken? I promise the real stuff has quite a kick. (In all seriousness, though. It's more important that you're having fun. And even I can admit the idea of Twi being an Ordonian who can't handle his spice is more than a little funny.)

I am an OoT Link edgelord and have been since early 2017. So, in September of that year, when an artist by the name of jojo56830 puts out a lineup of nine different Links and the Hero of Time is there – the oldest, no eye, Hero’s Shade armor? I saw that one sketch and just thought “oh this is gonna be bad.” Yeah of course he has the coolest design. By the way, it’s only a matter of time until Fierce Deity shows up in the comic and I have reason to believe it could be this current Dawn arc. Dawn … Dawn of a New Day … and who brought about the Dawn of a New Day? Fierce Deity. Twilight is recovering but still injured and what will happen if he falls again? Fierce Deity is coming and we need to be prepared. In this essay I will—

Remember that time when someone put the whole script of the bee movie in here? I’m not that dedicated, and I don’t have that time, but let us remember and hope someone else does it again this time. Cause someone is bound too. We’re all crazy enough to do it. Alright, love you and stay hydrated pls!

Hi! I joined this fandom really recent but i’ve always seen LU stuff on pinterest and elsewhere. Only recently have i actually took the time to understand the fandom and get back into LOZ stuff and i adore the characters and story! The more and more fanart, fanfics, and comics i see about the different Links the more i love them all. It’s such a pain to pick just one i like or one i don’t like because they’re all so unique. I love this fandom and hope to get more involved!! Have a wonderful rest of your day :]

Epona is an underrated queen

your mom

I really don't get why Zelda is called Artemis. Athena makes more sense???? It perplexes me

Anyone seeing this should check out Breanna’s E!Wild AU

Something something queer every Link into oblivion!

#linked universe #lu survey 2023 #lu wild #lu twilight #lu time #lu warriors #lu legend #lu wind #lu hyrule #lu four #lu sky

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leeehye · 1 year ago

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Sweet Truth - pt. 1

Summary ~ Mr. Choi, an arrogant and cold boss, learns the truth when visiting one of his employees house, Y/n. Who is someone he would like to be more close with. Yet the lack of emotions is a great obstacle for him he will have to do a lot to get to her heart.

Warnings ⚠️ ~ FLUFF ☁️, angst, may contain some smut in future parts, language, long (sorry) - enjoy!!

a/n - definitely turning this into a mini series! Yes I love this so much 💕 I TAKE ANY SUGGESTIONS, sorry for bad grammar

You know what’s more exhausting than working almost 10 hours a day and barely getting any sleep? Having a boss like Choi Seungcheol. Honestly! You could ask anybody in the company, everyone hated him. He was so cold and strict along with being a perfectionist. It would be surprising if he remembered your name. He had also earned my hatred, when I joined the company he packed me with work and sent me for coffees every chance he got. This man had an addiction to dark coffee bitter just like him, and not to forget the fact that he underestimated my abilities.

My thoughts were interrupted by the voices of my co-workers as they bowed their heads greeting Mr. Choi, I took the files that I needed him to sign, grabbing my iPad. He walked past the workers so arrogantly didn’t even look at them and into his office. I sighed quietly and went to his door knocking three times before entering slowly closing the door behind me.

He was focused on something on his computer as I got there, I noticed he was checking the company’s finances, and checking the graphs.

“Mr. Choi…I have some requests from other companies for partnerships…and about the products—” I started while setting the folders down on his desk, but he cut me off.

“I heard about the problem with the products…I’m going to need you to stay overtime today…we’ll look at it and try to fix it” he said, starting to look through the folders I gave him.

“Oh…” I said quietly, not realizing that my disappointment was noticeable. He looked up at me and frowned, his eyebrows confused.

“Any problem with that Miss…” he mumbled and I clenched my fist gently.

“Y/n. sir…” I responded helping him out, I already knew he wasn’t going to get my name right.

“And no, no problem at all sir…I’ll just have to cancel my plans tonight,” I said softly “Well I need to go check something and I’ll come back to start working on fixing the problem” I said and he just gave me a cold nod going back to his computer. Forming a thin line with my lips I slightly bowed and left his office.

A few workers had already left and it was past my work hours, so I grabbed my bag and my work things and head back to Mr. Choi’s office. This time I found him standing up with his hands on his desk leaning down revising some papers. I had to admit that Mr. Choi was a pain in the butt at times but that didn’t mean he wasn’t good looking. Small strands of his hair fell on his face, and he had his sleeves rolled up revealing his veiny arms decorated with his expensive watch. I gulped and moved a chair next to his like I always did when we worked together.

There wasn’t much conversation in the first 15 minutes, only things I needed clarifications with but that was until my phone turned on revealing a

Text Notification

Vernon 💛

It’s okay sweetie, we can move our date another day!

don’t overwork yourself! ❤️

I had not really taken the message in mind until Mr. Choi spoke, making me widen my eyes.

“Tell your boyfriend that you are busy, remember you need to be professional, you're still at work Miss Y/n” he grunted coldly. I took my phone quickly into my chest slowly.

“No…he isn’t…I mean sorry sir…” I said quickly looking at my phone, putting it on silent, putting it down faced down. I tried to concentrate again until it hit me.

“Miss Y/n.”

He had remembered without me repeating it to him. I looked at him for a few seconds and his head turned to look at me. I’m not joking when I said that we stayed there for a few seconds staring at each other. He cleared his throat and glanced at my iPad.

“what? get back to work” he mumbled.

-minutes later-

Checking the time it read 12 am. Shit. I was so tired and I was afraid of passing out in front of my boss. My eyes started to close but his typing made me come back again.

“Um…sir I think I finished…” I whispered moving my iPad to him covering my mouth hiding a yawn. He hummed and started to revise my work. Silence. His classical music plays in the background. His lights dimmed. Perfect to fall asleep.

My eyes closed again while waiting for him to finish and tell me to go home. He for sure was taking his damn time. My head started to fall slowly to the side, along with my body, my head slowly rested on his shoulder. It was warm and big, of course, and incredibly comfortable.

“Miss Y/n…” I heard far, far away. I hummed softly until I heard it again. Gasping loudly I sat up quickly getting up from my seat.

“Yes sir!” I said quickly pushing my hair back, I started to recall that I had fallen asleep on my boss’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Choi '' I said quickly, starting to rant an apology. He waved his hand gently assuring me multiple times that I didn’t need to worry. I felt a hige wave of embarrassment washing over me.

“I think it’s best if we call it a day huh?” he said in a different voice, it was now his deep voice but now more, friendlier? As much as I wanted to be professional I agreed with him and nodded. I started to pack up my things and so did he.

“Have a goodnight sir…” I said politely bowing and starting to walk out and he came right behind me.

“Wait, why don’t you let me drive you home?” He suggested making my tiredness go away.

“Um…what? Oh no sir…that…that could affect your reputation” I mumbled feeling my cheeks warm up.

He scoffed as we walked out.

“Please, there’s no buses going around at this hour and a taxi is unsafe for a lady like you…at least you can trust me don’t you think?” he said, looking at me. I gripped my bag strap and bit my lower lip taking in mind what he just said.

Was he helping me? I was actually scared to go out alone and of course I trusted him more than a taxi driver or anyone at this hour.

“Um…only this once, thank you…” I said softly following him to his car. I wasn’t surprised but my eyes still went wide seeing his Mercedes g63, it went so well with him I thought and his words replayed in my head, he wasn’t going to let a lady like me go out alone at this hour. That just made him so different from the arrogant boss during the day. No Y/n stop it! He is your boss, you can’t see him any other way!

The car ride was silent except when I told him my address, a few minutes later he parked in front of my house and I sighed tiredly gently rubbing my eyes, stretching slightly, then the door ioening and closing startled me. Mr. Choi had gotten out of the car and opened the door for me.

“Oh…um thanks…thank you…” I said getting out shyly “Well have a goodnight sir—”

“Y/n!” My mom called out coming out of my house. She made her way to us and hugged me before looking at Mr. Choi.

“Oh my my Y/n! He is handsome!” she exclaimed giggling and I froze.

“M-mom…stop…he—” I mumbled.

“He must be a co-worker of yours! Wait! Why don’t you both come in? I made some bibipam, we can also talk about that rude boss that you talk about Y/n!” she yelled, pulling us in.

At that point I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. She kept rambling all the mean things I had said about Seungcheol and I glanced at him, his eyes were slightly wide, but interested in the conversation.

“yes sweetie! You tell me he is such a pain at times and how arrogant he is” she said and I made a face at her.

“mom—” I mumbled, waving my hands to make her stop, but Seungcheol’s hand slowly stopped my hand taking it in his.

“No it’s fine…gone on ma’am…” he whispered, his face didn’t express anger but interest in the conversation, as my eyes darted to our hands. His large hand gently embracing mine, I was so confused.

“Oh you know, it’s Mr. Choi or something, he overworks my little daughter! She works so hard to impress him! What do you think about him, young man?” She asked, setting two bowls with warm soups on the table.

“Well ma’am I think I don’t really pay attention to the boss’s actions…” he said in a gentle tone to my mom as we took a seat and she sat down across from us.

After a few minutes later I was helping my mom clean up, and praying that I don’t get fired. Wiping the table I noticed Mr. Choi looked over the pictures on the shelves, and a thin smile came to my mind. Shaking my head. slightly I went over to him while my mom finished cleaning.

“Nice family” he mumbled, making me look at him.

“Huh? Oh y-yeah thank you sir…what about you I think you’ve lived a wonderful life,” I said smiling softly and he released a soft scoff.

“I wish… my parents divorced and my relationship with my father isn’t that good…I think that’s why I try so hard…” he started still staring at my family photos.

“Oh I’m really sorry sir…I didn’t” I quickly added apologetically.

“It’s fine, sorry I shouldn’t be ranting about my personal life…um I should get going…” he said looking at me before checking his watch, earning a nod from me I followed him outside walking him to his car.

“Um thank you again for giving me a ride home Sir…” I said bowing my head. He gave me a soft smile and responded.

“Call me Seungcheol…” he mumbled. I looked up in shock. “It’s nothing but call me Seungcheol, let’s start from there…” he said, his eyes fixed on me, I could feel my cheeks heating up.

“Oh um start what Mr. Choi? I mean…S-Seungcheol?” I asked shyly and he placed his hands in his pockets.

“Let’s start with me not being a pain in the butt and an arrogant stupid boss…” he said recalling my mom’s words.

“I’m really sorry sir—” I spoke quickly but he beat me to it.

“Don’t be…That way I can see the things that need to be fixed for me to be a good boss and well…impress someone…” he said and he seemed to admire me for a moment. I gently clenched my fist in a soft ball. He slowly opened his mouth looking like he wanted to say something important to me.

His eyes scanned me for a few seconds. I tried to not get my hopes up. The words he said next were so shocking…

To Be Continued…

Part II

#seventeen #svt scoups #scoups x reader #scoups x y/n #svt fluff #svt smut #choi seungcheol #seungcheol imagines #svt imagines #scoups #seungcheol scenarios #Spotify

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zeroseuniverse · 2 years ago

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Doodles

Word Count: 594 Summary: In which they meet at a fan meet. Warning: she’s not an army I'm sorry Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Taehyung was tired, he usually tried to sleep a lot before fan meets but last night his anxiety had spiked and he spent the whole night tossing and turning. Today just seemed to be dragging on, waking up too early, everyone else seems way more energized the usual. Trying to pump up his energy he played music drumming a beat along his thigh, he didn’t even feel the drags on his skin from his soulmate drawing, so drowsy that he was partially asleep in the waiting room as the staff set up the stage.

She was bored, she only came in place of her friend, she barely listens to bts honestly, not because she didn’t like them, it just never came about. But when her friend fell ill and couldn’t come to the fan meeting she agreed to come and get the auto graphs for them and pass out their letters they write for the members. Her friends however didn’t tell her it would be this boring, she yawned as the event continued, deciding to entertain herself with drawing designs on her skin, she dragged the pen across her arm creating elaborate pictures on her skin, with each stroke of her pen the more bored she got, while she loved drawing, especially giving herself temporary tattoos, she couldn’t help but want to leave, the line was so long, was it even worth the extra money for a minute long conversation with each of them.

It took a while before she finally stood before the first member, Namjoon’s dimpled smile growing as she approached, “Hey what’s your name?” He wondered, looking intently at her hand as she handed him the book for him to sign.

She told him her name before quickly telling him to make it out for her friend instead, “You’re not a fan?” He wondered confused as he signed the book.

“I don’t listen to your music much, only when my friend puts it on when we’re together.” She explained with a shrug, moving onto Jin next repeating the process, and then with Yoongi, and Hoseok. Things only got interesting when Jimin perked up at the sight of her arm, eyes widening as he took in the drawings that had appeared on his band member earlier.

“Hey did you draw those today?” He wondered, not even trying to be subtle.

“Yea in line. It was boring.” She hummed, before explaining who she was, why she was here and who to make it out to.

Then came Taehyung, his patterned skin reaching to grab the book from her patterned hand with wide eyes. She looked down, noticing the situation before glancing back up in surprise, her soulmate was an idol? Quickly shaking out of her thoughts she repeated what she told the others and as time ended, he called a staff member to wait at the end for her so they could talk.

After meeting Jungkook who was practically doing a bunny bounce with his excitement she met with the staff and waited for the line to lessen. And when everyone left the seven found their way over to her, all buzzing with excitement.

“Nice to officially meet you, I’m Taehyung, your soulmate.” He introduced, his black hair falling over his eyes slightly as he gave a shy grin.

“Hey it's the non army!” Yoongi called, pointing at the woman with a teasing grin, “Bet you’ll be an army soon.”

The woman gave a faint grin, grasping Taehyung’s hand gently in hers as her nerves dulled down feeling him accept the bond as well.

#bts au #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts fic #bangtan sonyeondan #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung imagines #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung imagines

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lamuradex · 25 days ago

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Novella November: Day 7

@novella-november One Week Update!

A week already. And yet it feels like it should be longer.

Anyway, wordcount.

My Current Wordcount: 15,882

Alright, that's more than I expected. I've only just realised I've passed the half way point. I'll say, the TrackBear leaderboard is acting as quite the motivator. That line graph. I'm getting a little competitive.

Whatever, I'm enjoying myself. And it's a good distraction from certain world politics going on... More importantly, this is just a story I've wanted to write for ages, Ninth Realm, and I love having a good excuse to write with a challenge like this!

AND, as I did back in September for 40K in 42 Days, I'm gonna start posting large-ish snippets of what I've been writing with each update.

So, snippet time.

This snippet is an early pivotal moment in the story, where Angela is finally given a voice... literally. She's been mute up until now and has had some trouble communicating, with only a vague grasp of sign language and some written words.

Snippet below the cut!

Elsewhere in the building, Angela, as was now her name, was sat in a cell. The door was open, unlocked, and the bed given fresh linens. It honestly was just a barely decorated bedroom with a solid door and a camera in the corner. One of them, Hunter, had promised to switch the camera off.

She sat back on the bed, alone with her thoughts. She often was. Unable to speak, socialising was a rarity. But these seemed like good people, the friendly Pheobe, her nervous looking paramour, big kind Hunter, stern Mike, the man Reggie who she hadn’t really met yet… and then that pleasant doctor. Simon. Polite and caring. It was a long time since someone had properly cared. She wasn’t even sure how long.

Her dour thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. It waited, clearly expecting a response, but Angela didn’t have a method of answering. The visitor eventually worked this out, and opened the door, Pheobe popping her head in.

“Hi. Sorry, forgot you couldn’t answer. How are you settling in?”

Angela gave a thumbs up. There was nothing to complain about, really.

“Cool. I just wanted to come down and check on you. Also, I thought I’d bring you some clothes.” She produced a pile from behind her back. “Those bandages look a little chilly, you know? I’ve got nothing again the au naturel look, but I thought you’d like the option. Just some of Jess’s old things that she never wears. She prefers to make a statement with her clothes, as you likely saw. I think she’s also a bit bigger than you, so you might need a belt, but it’ll do for now. So… enjoy.” She put down the clothes and stepped back.

Angela accepted them with a genuine smile. She had no trouble with the au naturel look either, but now that she mentioned it, it was a little cold in here. And she did generally prefer to wear clothes.

“Also… there was something else,” Pheobe said a little more hesitantly. “I don’t know if this is stupid or not, but I made you something.”

Angela curved an eyebrow curiously. Pheobe produced something from a pocket, a small device on a strap.

“I know you can sign and everything, but I’m not a great translator. Simon taught me some last year, but most if it’s fallen right back out of my brain. But I saw the way you communicated using my phone, and Simon said you did the same with his tablet. Something to do with you… emitting emotions, like how I felt yours. So, I just thought…”

She handed the device over, which Angela took carefully.

“It’s basically just a speaker attached to a small computer. Repurposed an old phone with text to speech. I can’t guarantee it’s perfect, but it should work, and it might mean you can communicate without us looking at you or over a radio. And that’ll make Mike happy, if we’re working with you for the time being.”

Angela held up the little device. It was as described, just a little speaker grill on a box on a strap. She tested the strap for its strength.

“I was thinking you could put in on an arm or-”

Angela placed the strip across her neck, laying the box across the front of her throat.

“Or wear it as a choker. That’s cool too. It’s like a voice box!” she realised.

Angela clasped it at the back, and swallowed to make sure it wasn’t in the way. She nodded once it was comfortable.

“It should be able to communicate just like the phone.”

Angela sat straight, focused, and tried to focus her thoughts. To speak without moving her lips. To speak with-

“BZzztt… SPEAK WITHOUT-” the device blurted. Angela stopped. “I CAN… I can speak,” she said through the box, concentrating and lowering the volume. The voice was flat and monotonous, and just vaguely female, but it was a voice. She concentrated again. “I can speak,” she repeated, trying to fluctuate the tone. It barely shifted.

“There you go!” Pheobe said excitedly. “That doesn’t, like, hurt or anything?”

“It’s a little DIFFICULT,” the box suddenly yelled. Angela pulled her new voice back. “It takes effort. But thank you.” She said in her new flat monotone.

Pheobe was beaming. “It’s no trouble.”

“Thank you, Phay-o-be.” She paused, hearing the wrong sound come out. “Phay-o… Phay-o…”

“Maybe I can tweak it a little. Tighten up the text to speech.”

“Phay… Phee… Phee-Be… Pheobe. Thank you, Pheobe,” she said finally, genuinely aglow with gratitude, even if her new voice didn’t show it. “This is wonderful.”

“Seriously, it’s no trouble. I’ll leave you to work out how to use it. See you in the morning, Angela.”

“GoodNIGHT Pheobe,” Angela returned, managing regain control of her volume.

“See you in the morning,” Pheobe repeated, and headed back upstairs.

Angela sat on her bed, cross legged, thinking of all the words she could say. She picked out some that seemed the most important.

“Hello. My name is Angela. What is your name?”

And into the night, she continued to practice with her new gift.

#writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #writing community #lamura dex writes!#NinthRealmStory #novella november #I'm not going to stop at 30K #I'm gonna keep writing until this month is over

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canary0 · 1 year ago

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Aug 9 - Dracula 2023

The Diary of Mina Murray

After Jonathan passed out last night, no matter how Lucy and I tried to wake him, he stayed out. His pulse was all right, and his heartbeat and breathing. I think perhaps he simply had a great shock, and between that and still being a bit tired, it wiped him out. Lucy agreed. Lucy’s mother fretted quite a bit, but then hurried us all off to bed. It was after midnight, after all. I stayed with Lucy to keep her from sleepwalking and to give Jonathan some room and air. At least as much as we could – we didn’t unlatch the window with the storm still blowing. Jonathan must have woken in the middle of the night and wanted it for himself, though, as the window was unlatched when I went in in the morning.

He slept for a while longer after I came in, and while he seemed tired still when he finally got up, he didn’t seem too much worse for wear. He kissed me and greeted Lucy and her mother amicably. I asked him if he was all right and what happened last night, and he just said, “It’s related to the diary.” Lucy’s mother didn’t notice my expression, but Lucy must have, because she looked between the two of us like she was trying to read our faces.

After breakfast, she suddenly declared that we would all take a morning walk up to the abbey ruins. We were all surprised, but agreed.

Once we were up there, she asked for an explanation – she suspected we knew something between us that she didn’t. And honestly, she was right. We’ve always been close, and something like what Jonathan experienced isn’t helped by isolation. I told him this, and he agreed. So… we began to explain about Jonathan’s experiences in the castle.

It took a long time, and Lucy seemed quite shocked by the whole thing. I wasn’t exactly sure how she would react.

I shouldn’t have worried.

Once we were finished, she was nearly in tears, and she got up and suddenly hugged Jonathan. She said, “I’m so sorry.”

He looked confused, then shook his head as he hugged back. “Please, I don’t…”

She pulled back and shook her head. “Oh, it’s not pity, I’m sorry. I just… haven’t been as charitable to you in the past as you deserved in the past. I’m apologizing for that.”

He smiled at that, and I joined him. She then sat down and rested her chin in her hands before saying, “So… this has something to do with the ship last night? That dog looked right at us.”

Jonathan just nodded.

“So… Whatever it is, you were in danger. So… it might be dangerous here, too.”

He nodded again.

It took her another while to respond again. “Do you two mind if I make some calls? I can’t imagine anything like what happened, but… Arthur, Jack, and Quincey – my three suitors, I told you about them, Mina – they’ve seen quite a lot of the world. They might be able to help.”

We looked at each other and Jonathan shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

She grinned and leapt up. “Wonderful! Arthur might need some more time, but Quincey and Jack may be able to at least talk about what’s going on.” With that, she hurried down the long stairs, leaving us behind. Jonathan unexpectedly started laughing, and I couldn’t help but join him. Count on Lucy to make the world seem a little brighter.

–

Article from The Daily Graph (accessed online)

A derelict cargo ship crashed last night near midnight in Whitby Harbor, during a storm dramatic enough for observers to estimate that it might be the harshest storm to hit Whitby in 100 years. With harsher weather increasing across the globe, it’s worth considering whether this sudden storm is yet another piece of added to the pile of evidence for climate change.

Regarding the ship itself: The ship is the Demeter, a small scale cargo container hauler out of Varna, Bulgaria. The ship was hauling its full load of 1000 containers, with the manifest including leather goods and wine from Romania, medicines from Bulgaria, and a variety of miscellaneous other goods. The only part of the shipment brought to shore in the morning was a cargo container filled with boxes of earth, which were taken charge of by Mr. Samuel Billingsworth, a local solicitor. The police are currently notifying other recipients.

Of the crew, most were missing. Only one was still present on the ship was the captain. The police and rescue crew had to break through considerable fortifications on the bridge, some of which appear to have already had something attempting to remove them. One of the doors was broken open, with a considerable amount of blood left on the razor wire set up outside it. Inside, the bridge was awash with blood, with multiple bullet holes toward the door. The captain was on the floor inside in critical condition. He has been rushed to the hospital. We will update this article as information becomes available.

(A/N: You know how I said we were off the rails before? I underestimated the effects of many previous events culminating today.)

#dracula daily #dracula 2023 #fanfic #jonathan harker #modern retelling #mina murray #lucy westenra #the demeter

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writingforfishes · 7 months ago

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Otto and Atticus Chronicles Part 6: In Sickness

I've been working on this for a couple of weeks, actually. I didn't intend for it to take so long to write, but I kept getting stuck on feeling a little guilty with how much I was putting Otto through and how it was reflecting on my internalized shame for my kink and whump/sick fic leanings. I also just, generally, haven't been feeling particularly well.

As usual, exposition is just as long as the fiction. Feel free to scroll down until you see what you want.

Contains: Hiccups that are NOT pleasant Sneezes and the author's valiant attempt to describe those sneezes through onomatopoeia (Author does not have a snz kink but enjoys the aspects of snz fic) Coughing and descriptions of coughing Fever and descriptions of fever Body aches Sickness Whump Hurt/comfort Just a little sliver of backstory for Otto's alcoholism Discussion of arousal (a smidge) Mention of nausea, but no emeto No sex No self-pleasure Gratuitous stroking of hair and kissing of forehead

This is another work that was inspired by a prompt that was sent to me via message.

Otto being sick in bed with hiccups and Atty nurses him back to health as much as they can This fic has a LOT going on. Much Otto "torture". If any aspects up there in red are not your jam, please feel free to move on. I do plan on writing other fics focusing on fun hiccups in the future.

Without further ado:

***

It all started a couple of days ago when Atticus found Otto staring at his computer with a graph of numbers open. He was balancing the books of his clock and watch business. It was one of the few reasons Atticus ever saw Otto on a computer.

Their partner’s eyes looked a little glossed over as they twitched over the screen. It could be the blue light emanating from the computer, but he looked a little pale this morning. Also, there was a distinct lack of aroma in the house that Atticus didn’t fully recognize until they came into the kitchen and searched the countertop for a full French Press or Chemex that didn’t exist.

Their eyes scanned until they found both appliances on a drying rack beside the kitchen sink from the previous morning. They frowned. Atty knew they were up a little early, but they certainly weren’t up before Otto made coffee.

“You...want me to make coffee?” they said, elevating their voice so that Otto could hear it from the other side of the house.

“Huh?” Otto said, just realizing that his partner was in the kitchen. “Oh yeah! Sorry...got stuck on the books. I’m a little out of it this morning.”

As Otto projected his voice Atticus heard the hoarseness in it. But that could be easily attributed to him having woken up and not used his voice yet. Still, the clearing of the throat he did afterward was a little suspect. Atty side eyed at their partner’s direction from the kitchen.

After a while Otto saw Atticus coming from his peripheral with a steaming mug. He rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat again.

“Thanks,” he said shortly and put the mug on the desk beside his laptop to let it cool.

Atticus observed his movements and his face a little more closely. He was definitely pale. But, then again, that Irish-German blood he had kept him pretty pale by genetics. Still, he looked ashen. Atticus sipped their coffee slowly still studying him.

It took Otto a while to notice Atticus’ intense staring and he looked up questioningly.

“You feeling okay, bud?” Atty asked, keeping it light.

“Yeah, just tired for some reason. Took me forever to get up,” Otto said, idly scratching his chest and suppressing a yawn. He sniffed and rubbed his nose with his wrist.

Otto felt Atticus behind him, then, reaching to put an arm around his chest. He looked up at them, his head against their chest, and didn’t dislike the sudden physical contact but was a bit confused by the reason for it.

Atticus leaned their chin on stop of Otto’s fuzzy curls and then put their cheek against his forehead.

“Hm,” they said. Otto was just about to ask for clarification as to what Atticus had discovered when they spoke again, “You feel a little warm. Have you been sitting next to the window?”

It was sunny outside and the drapes were open allowing the warmth to filter into the living room. But Otto had been there in the shadow of the office desk seeing by lamps all morning. He shook his head no in response.

“You sure you feel okay? Headache? Sore throat?” Atticus continued.

“A little headache,” Otto admitted. Then he sighed. “Now that you mention it, I don’t feel great. My throat’s been dry. Aw man…”

Atticus chuckled, “Think you might be getting sick?”

Otto whined a little.

“Alright, time to practice this in sickness and in health part, huh?” Atty said.

“I’m kind of a baby when I get sick…” Otto admitted sheepishly.

“As long as I don’t have to change your diapers, I think I can handle it,” Atticus said with confidence.

“You say that now, but just wait until we become octogenarians! I mean, give me 40 ish more years and we might be changing each others diapers!” he said.

“Oh good. Something to look forward to,” Atticus said dryly. “I obviously request diapers with superheroes on them.”

“I mean, you’re small enough for the toddler si—ah!” Otto was cut off as Atticus pinched with excessive pressure into the side of his torso. “Uncle! Uncle!!”

“C’mon, man, really?” Atticus said, letting go.

Yes, Atticus would admit to there being a humorous height difference between Otto and them, but short jokes were a dime a dozen and Otto was better than that. Usually.

“It was kinda funny,” Otto replied, grinning with dopiness.

Atticus had glared and Otto had laughed, but it turned into what would be the first of many coughing fits over the next two days. It was a dry cough at first that then turned a little more productive at the end as the beginnings of mucous started latching in consequence of immune system battling.

“Oh yeah...definitely getting sick,” Otto confirmed, needlessly.

Otto didn’t really get sick, often. Neither of them did. Allergies certainly had their way, but a virus was rare. Atticus would laud their strong immune systems but, really, it was probably that both of them were homebodies if left to their own devices. Take away hikes, parks, coffee houses, and invitations to small get-togethers with friends and the couple’s social atmosphere was only broadened by work-related necessities, grocery store trips, and some really enthusiastic discussions about going on vacation that never led anywhere past imagining.

Otto had recently completed a pretty full day of home visits. Some of them were new customers and Otto would reflect that one of them had a small child with a runny nose. It didn’t take much to narrow down the source of contagion when the pool of social activity was so small.

The next two days Otto’s body mounted a pretty solid defense against whatever virus had decided to invade. His coughing had gotten into the realm where Atticus winced to hear it and how painful it must be. It barked at night to such a level that he had insisted on sleeping in the loft bed to which Atticus denied and they took the loft bed, instead. Though they frequently checked in and when he seemed calm, they would appear with a damp rag and wipe sweat from his forehead. He rarely stirred too much. His side table had become a clutter of cups and medicines.

His sneezing was so intense they thought he was going to crack a rib if he sneezed wrong. They’d heard his rapid-fire sneezing fits caused by allergens, but this was next-level. Atty wasn’t sure if the intensity of his sneezing coincided with the reason his hiccups tended to be fast, while day long returning bouts were hard, but there were similar nerves responsible so the writer thought it was probably not outside the realm of possibility for both to be caused by some anatomical propensity toward the respective fits’ severity having something to do with the vagus nerve.

When Atticus had mentioned the possibility Otto sighed in response, blowing his nose in a tissue as he had used all of his handkerchiefs (that Atty hadn’t hidden because having found several soiled crumples of cloth had traumatized them).

“I was never a fan of Vegas,” he had finally responded, looking blearily at his spouse with a snuff of his nose.

Atty looked at him with confusion until the pun finally dawned on them and they gave an exhausted eye roll. Otto being ill they could deal with but if there were many more puns like that they might just walk out. Otto, for his part, was pretty proud of himself for coming up with it through the heavy brain fog and dizziness.

Fortunately for Atticus, Otto’s illness stayed upper respiratory. He never had any nausea or other...downstairs issued, at least not that they had been privy to. Atty didn’t think they would be as able to hold themselves together if Otto was vomiting. Not that they wouldn’t still offer care, but it was certainly something they would’ve had more issues with. Mainly they would have issues with trying not to vomit sympathetically.

Otto was at least partially true to his word. He did not handle his symptoms with subtlety. He didn’t hide how crappy he felt. But Atticus almost preferred that. He wasn’t demanding, he just told Atticus how he felt and what he needed and, quite honestly, Atticus appreciated the straight-forwardness. Being able to care for Otto in the ways he revealed to them he needed was actually a relief. Him being able to voice how he felt made them feel safer in knowing how he was doing. Otto was nothing if not an eloquent speaker. The illness had dulled the ability to say his words with grace, but he was still able to get his point across.

“Can you...just stay with me?” Otto had said last night when his fever had started to spike again. His voice was wrecked, coming out a little wheezily and thin. His breath had quickened and that wheeziness increased with each inhale.

“I just...feel funny,” he’d continued. “I can’t...seem to keep still. And my bones hurt. Nothing feels solid when I touch it. I can’t keep track of things in my head. I’m kinda…I’m getting a little panicky I think. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to get this thing. I just...I’m feeling a little dizzy and...it would be nice to have you here. Touching me. So I don’t...so I can stay still?”

And, while he hadn’t meant to, the absolutely terrible coughing fit that followed the request would have convinced Atticus even if they hadn’t already planned on immediately agreeing. It was usually Atticus who asked for cuddles and physical comfort. Not that Otto didn’t appreciate physical connection, but Atticus seemed to crave it more. So being able to give back in a way that Otto did regularly was something the writer was more than happy to do for the clock maker.

So they both reclined on the bed and Otto put his head on Atticus’ chest, taking deep breaths to try and center himself as Atticus carded their fingers through his hair which was damp in sweat from his fever. They whispered encouragements to him until he finally fell asleep.

The next morning Atticus was up before Otto. The past two days had made this a more common occurrence. They were fixing coffee and eggs and pancakes. They were pulling out some fruit from the fridge when the stairs creaked. Atticus peeked outside of the threshold of the kitchen to catch their partner ambling slowly down, catching himself on the handrail briefly.

Otto hadn’t appeared out of their bedroom by himself since he’d gotten sick. Atticus would retrieve him to come downstairs and eat before ushering him back upstairs to continue resting with medication. This was a nice surprise that gave Atticus hope that he was turning a corner.

“You okay, man? You need me to help?” Atticus called as Otto paused in his downward journey.

“No, I’m good,” Otto said, voice strained and half-whispered. “Just need a second.”

With concentration Otto continued to walk, step by step, from the middle of the staircase down to the living room. Atticus met up with him and put a hand on his elbow as he shuffled to the couch to finally settle down into the cushions.

“You feeling any better?” Atticus asked.

“Yeah, actually,” Otto said, and cleared his throat again. He winced as he swallowed. “Ugh. I think my fever broke last night.”

“Tell me about it. I woke up sweating!”

“Ooh, sorry about that,” Otto said. He had a small coughing fit, but recovered, rubbing his chest and ribs. His ribs had taken the brunt of his sickness. Now that the headache that plagued him in the first two days had faded (and his fever had finally decided to release its grip) he felt the most pain in his ribs and throat. The fire he felt when he swallowed didn’t seem to be quenched by any sort of liquid. He hadn’t really shared the severity with Atticus, though. He’d already asked so much of them. A sore throat remedy seemed smaller compared to everything else.

Atticus must’ve been quick because when the fit ended Otto found a glass of water in his hand.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you aren’t feeling as bad as you have been,” Atticus said. They sat next to him and softly pushed his curls away from his forehead to give it a kiss. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“I know,” Otto said softly. “Thank you for taking care of me. I hope you don’t get this from me, though.”

“Nah,” Atticus said with confident bravado. “I have been doubling down on the vitamin C! I’m invincible!”

“You...know that’s not how that works, right?” Otto said, “Like, at all.”

“Shh! I’m invincible,” Atticus repeated, whispering it into Otto’s ear.

Otto gasped in a guffaw and laughed, it turning into coughing again to which he swallowed down some water to squelch. The water offered a small respite from the pain at least. He swallowed two sips of it as his partner asked him a question. He felt pressure in his throat build up.

“You want some breakfast?” Atty asked, moving toward the kitchen.

“Ye-heek-uck! Oh! Heek-uck! Oh, ow. Heep! Oh, this isn’t a good time. Herk-uh!” Otto started hiccuping and winced with every one.

Atticus turned around, an immediate feeling of arousal rushing to their nether but it was instantly subdued by Otto’s expression and comments. Then a look of compassion settled in their face as they stepped back toward him.

“These aren’t good ones are they?” Atticus said coming over and sitting down again, rubbing his back.

“No. Heeyuck! No, they aren’t. Heek-uck! It’s like h’meek-like little knives stab-heep-uh stabbing my throat hnk-uck my throat over and heek over again! H’yuck! Ow. Damn. Sorry hikk’l sorry they aren’t fun. Mk!” he said, grunting at the last one.

His nasal passages weren’t completely clear so he was having trouble keeping them inside. But with that last one he realized it hurt more to suppress them. His throat was raw and sensitive and every time his glottis closed and air pushed against it and his vocal chords it rubbed against the inflammation and felt awful.

“You don’t have to apologize for that,” Atticus said, quickly. “And, trust me, any arousal I felt when first hearing them is gone. So let’s cure them, okay?”

Otto’s hiccups squeaked in a way they never had before. They were the same pace as they usually were, but muted by the illness that had stolen the majority of his voice. So his hiccups cracked through this throat unpleasantly, airily, and squeakily. While the sounds would have been arousing had Otto not been in pain, Atty only felt pity as they watched him struggle and hold stiff to anticipate his next hiccup.

Otto nodded in agreement to curing them. He followed his partner into the kitchen where at least his nose allowed him to smell the coffee, eggs, and toast. For the first time since he’d gotten ill he felt his appetite triggered and, aside from getting rid of these demonic hiccups, he wanted nothing more than to eat what smelled like a delicious breakfast.

As Otto was set up with and then commenced it the steps of curing his hiccups; sugar, salt, and lemon; Atticus prepared both of their plates and also retrieved some Ibuprofen from the cabinet and tea from the pantry.

“I’m gonna make you this lemon ginger tea for your throat instead of coffee, okay? You want honey?” Atticus asked.

Otto was struggling through holding his mouth closed to let the sugar and salt dissolve individually. His nose snorted in air ineffectively and once or twice he had to open his mouth to catch a breath. Inevitably it would be when another hiccup would happen and he’d close his mouth around the contents of it again to continue the process. The squeaks of the hiccups he had let out were not only embarrassing but also painful. In the middle of his battle with the mouthful of salt, the one he despised the most, Atticus asked the question and he gave a little nod. Tea would probably be better than coffee, though he’d lamented not having coffee.

“You doing the salt?” Atty observed.

Otto nodded again, wincing as another hiccup wracked his body. He closed his eyes. This displeasure was only magnifying the pain in his sinuses and head.

“I’m so sorry you feel so bad, sweet boy,” Atticus murmured, giving his head a little kiss, as they went to the cupboard to get a mug.

Otto sighed in a moment of contentment at the gesture. Then he winced again at another hiccup. His diaphragm had definitely chose violence this morning and he was lucky that Atticus was parrying it with love.

Otto sucked on the lemon wedge. He hadn’t anticipated the acidic nature to sting his throat but it did. And when he salvaged some brain cells to consider it, the stinging made sense. His throat had been abused by the inflamed coughs he’d been prone to. If there was any abrasion the lemon juice was probably finding it.

He coughed at the irritation. The fit was interspersed with more hiccups. Thankfully the spasms were weaker than before so his ribs were taking less of the brunt but they didn’t go away entirely. He wasn’t sure if it was the lemon’s acidic sting or that the hiccups were caused by something his illness had let loose into his throat. Regardless, after the coughing fit he still found himself jerking and squeaking, though perhaps not as quickly.

A steaming mug of tea and a plate of eggs, toast, and sausage appeared in front of him. Four white pills were lined up on his napkin and he looked up at the handsome face of his spouse, brown eyes wide with care and worry.

“Dessert,” Atticus explained, pointing to the pills.

“How kind-heek!-uh,” Otto replied, rubbing his throat. His attempt at talking had come out more as a half whisper, the loudest part being the small squeaky hiccup.

“Damn,” Atty said, disappointed.

“Yeah,” Otto agreed. His body jolted with another squeak and grunt. He swallowed against the pain. “I think I’m gonna just-eep!-uh just have to wait these out. They aren’t as meek!-uh as bad as they were before though. I sound like a sq-eek!-uh SQUEAKY toy, though.”

He put his hand to his face at that last sentence and looked through his fingers to see Atticus trying to suppress a smile. When they were caught they shook their head.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I know you’re in pain, Otto, but they are...really...adorable. I know. I’m sorry…” Atticus sputtered.

“No-no. That heep!-uh last one was pretty funny,” the clock maker relented as he took another bite of eggs.

“Why do they sound like that?” Atticus mused.

Otto shook his head while he ate and shrugged. He grunted at the hiccups he had to suppress while eating and took a sip of the tea.

“Tell me if you need more honey,” the writer said.

“It’s good. Really-eek-uh really good,” Otto said. In the middle of a bite he continued, “Maybe meek!-uh maybe my throat being infl-eep!-inflamed is making them like this.”

The writer cooed and pulled a face of pity.

“Maybe you should have your dessert early,” they suggested, pointing to the neat row of ibuprofen.

“Mm,” Otto said agreeably and took the pills in his hand. He took up his water and threw his head back as he washed the pills down. He let out a soft belch followed immediately by another hiccup.

For once it wasn’t Otto that carried the conversation of a meal, but Atticus. The writer talked about inconsequential topics. They talked about what they’d submitted to literary magazines. They lamented the frustration at Mercury always seeming to be in retrograde. They revealed they didn’t even know what retrograde meant and, no Otto don’t tell them, they really didn’t care that much. They spoke of how much they’d miss the sound of the clocks when they went to the writer’s conference next month. And, yes, they’d miss Otto, too.

Otto knew Atticus was doing this out of both anxiety and also to distract the clock maker from his current situation. Otto smiled softly as he watched his partner babble, their expressive face animated as they used a fork full of dripping pancake to gesticulate. Atticus caught the look and the slow blink that accompanied it and paused.

“What?” Atticus said to the intensity of the expression. The last time they had elicited that look it was on their wedding day. So they were confused at the disconnect they perceived in Otto giving them such a sincere and loving look while they were battling to keep syrup from dripping down their chin.

“Just heeyup!-mm,” Otto started and winced, taking a breath and rubbing his throat. “Just grateful for you.” Another hiccup squeaked through his throat and tossed his chin down. He grunted and rubbed his eyes. Despite himself, he yawned, causing yet another hiccup to interrupt the act and he let out another soft belch as air escaped from being pushed in unexpectedly.

“Weird…” Atticus responded to Otto’s statement with a little smile. Then they watched him yawn. Atty considered their partner as he took a long sip of tea and rubbed eyes again with the heal of his hand.

“You’re tired,” Atty said.

Otto whined, “I just woke eeyup!-woke up!” His last word had completely muted, but was easily understood by his lip shape and context.

“Yeah, and your body still needs to heal. Wanna go back up to bed after breakfast?” Atticus asked.

Otto responded with a scowl not unlike that of a toddler. He shook his head no, the only sound being another breathy, squeaky hiccup jerking his head.

“Okay…” Atticus responded, bemused. They took a warm mouthful of coffee and swallowed it, not missing the way Otto’s eyes followed the movement longingly. Atticus snorted a little in their mug at noticing his expression.

Atticus continued, “Do you want to nap down here, then? I can sit on the couch and you can lay your head on a pillow on my lap and I can stroke your hair?”

Otto’s face took on that dreamy quality again, smiling as he nodded. Another shriek of a hiccup broke through and he followed that hiccup with another hearty sip of his tea.

“Your throat hurts too much to talk…” Atticus surmised in a soft voice, giving Otto a look of compassion.

“Yeah hyulk!-uh. Also just really tired,” Otto all but whispered back.

“My poor guy…” Atticus murmured, reaching over to grasp his hand momentarily. He gave it a squeeze back before they both refocused on their breakfast.

***

Atticus settled on the couch and fluffed up a small pillow they’d found in the loft bed. They’d laid out a sheet and blanket while Otto was using the restroom. When the tall man lumbered in he sat down gently on the couch, soreness from being sick still lingering in his joints. He settled himself on his back with his head on the pillow that sat on Atticus’ lap.

Otto let out a croaky heeyulp as he settled into a comfortable position.

“Oh, you still have them…” Atticus said, disappointed. They’d hoped the hiccups would’ve solved themselves quicker. They placed a hand on his head and started stroking his hair, running their fingers along his scalp in the process.

Otto sighed contently, only wincing when another obnoxious hiccup landed in his throat and chest. He nodded at Atticus’ discovery. At least his throat wasn’t hurting as much without the hiccuping. But as soon as he hiccuped he could feel a momentary sting that made him want to cough. The sensation of Atty’s fingers on his scalp was calming though.

“I wish they’d go away,” Atticus said sympathetically. They put a hand on his chest and rubbed his sternum in the middle lightly with their thumb.

Otto put a hand over theirs on his chest and took another deep breath between the spasms. He held their smaller hand in his and caressed it appreciatively. His other hand he settled on his stomach, feeling it bounce and convulse with each hiccup. At least they were incredibly slow compared to his normal hiccup fare.

“Me too,” he responded hoarsely before letting out a prolonged heeurp! “Ugh!” Laying down was encouraging the hiccups to change their tactic of attack, causing him to suck in air through his closed epiglottis longer than he was used to. He chuckled, though, the sound nearly imperceptible as it was just puffs of air. “Bet you never thought you’d heeyup!-oof! Um...you’d not want someone to hiccup?”

Atticus couldn’t help but feel Otto’s chest caving in with each of those elongated hiccups. They winced in unison with him as their husband’s body tensed up at the same time it spasmed.

“I don’t like it when you’re in pain,” Atticus said. “And if the hiccups are causing you pain then I definitely want them to stop.”

“I know heeyurp!” Otto said, tensing up again as hiccup drew through his battered throat.

“I wish they didn’t sound so funny, though. Cause otherwise this would be prime teasing fodder. You sound like a broken dog toy, man. I’m not kidding,” Atticus said, feeling Otto’s silent laughter jostling on their lap.

“Somebody get the number on that eeyup!-canine? I’d like to have a word,” Otto said. He heard and felt Atticus chuckle. And, yes, it hurt to talk but talking was kind of Otto’s thing. Then again as he gasped at another coughing fit perhaps he should hold back a little of that need to speak.

A warm thermos appeared in front of him and he took it, looking up at Atticus in question as he continued to cough.

“I made you more tea while you were in the bathroom. I also have water here,” they said and held up the reusable water bottle with the silicone straw, “and tissues!” And like a magician they brought up a box of tissues from the side table beside the couch.

After quenching his cough with warm tea and honey he handed them the thermos where they placed it neatly beside the other items.

“You’re pretty heeulp!-good at this,” he said.

“Thanks!” Atticus said jovially. “It’s actually not been that bad. Aside from seeing you miserable. You’re not as bad of a ‘patient’ as you think you are. I’m just glad you haven’t been nauseous. Throwing up is kind of my limit. You might have to deal with that one on your own.”

“Nauseated,” Otto said.

“What? Wait, you are? Crap, I have a waste bin for the tissues…” Atty said getting frantic to reach for it.

“No! Heeyup! No-no. I mean. Nauseated. It’s...nauseous means something that causes n-heeulp!-nausea. Like...spoiled milk is nauseous. Nauseated means feeling like your go-eeeep-uh gonna throw up,” Otto explained.

Atticus gave him an incredulous look.

“Seriously, dude?” Atticus said in disbelief. “You corrected my grammar?”

To his right, Otto did give a sheepish look in response.

“At least I’m not going to vomit?” Otto said, followed by another chest-caving hiccup.

“You are lucky you are so fucking pitiful right now, man,” Atty replied, but there was humor in the comment. “Those hiccups are bad enough. I’m glad you’re not NAUSEATED.”

Otto smiled, but then his face changed drastically. Perhaps Atticus had spoken to soon? But no, they recognized the desperation on his features and the way his eyelids shut softly and his arm coming up to his face to try and nestle his nose in his elbow before it all started.

He turned away from his partner’s body to sneeze forcefully into his elbow. And, knowing him, this would be the first of many. Another trait he’d probably inherited from his mother, aside from his hiccups, had been his sneezing fits. Allergies were hell and this illness had made his repetitive sneezing all the more powerful of an occurrence. Perhaps he had his mom to thank for all of his vagus nerve conditions, come to think of it. Alcoholism was another thing to blame on her, but that was a deep dive into a psyche he couldn’t allow himself to focus on as he was hit over and over with sneezes.

HIH’CHOO!HNK’CHNX!ETCH’chuh! HETCH’UH! ETCH’chuh!ETCH’huh!HETCH’chnx!CHUH!CHOO!

Otto stopped for a moment, panting to catch his breath. And then panting because he still felt a sneeze still building.

“Jeez, man!” Atticus said, stroking his head as if to calm him. “You done?”

“Nuh,” the clock maker said shaking his head. He was still turned away, and arm half-way up to catch the stubborn hanger-on.

“Look at the lamp!” Atty exclaim.

“Hunh?” Otto said, expression weak in anticipation of the next sneeze as he turned his blotched face toward his partner.

“I heard that if you look into a light it triggers a stubborn sneeze,” they explain.

“Huh,” Otto responded as he tilted his head back into the light bulb of the lamp beside the couch. He squinted but then gasped, shoving his face back into his elbow as his entire body convulsed with the power of the last sneeze.

HNK’KCHNX’CH’YOOO!

A coughing fit immediately followed, one of his worst. He felt his partner’s hands on his shoulders lifting him a little.

“C’mon, sit up a little, sweetie,” Atticus cooed. They grabbed the tissue box and beverages from next to the couch and put them in Otto’s lap now that he was upright.

Otto grabbed the water first. The coughing had been so deep that it felt like it was digging into his lungs like knives. Then he hocked and spit whatever had become lodged in his throat in a tissue. THEN he used tissues to purge his sinuses of the result of his explosive sneezing.

He balled up tissue after tissue as he forced more and more gunk out of his body’s upper respiratory system. He felt Atticus’ hand rubbing circles on his back. When he was satisfied he’d gotten all potentially gross liquids out of his facial hair and away from his nose and lips he looked back at them, eyes lined in red and nose and cheeks flushed. Even his lips were bright red with the effort and strain of the coughing and sneezing fits.

“Trash bin?” he croaked.

“Behind you on your side, sweetie,” Atticus said. They moved the bin a little closer with their foot as they watched him toss tissue after tissue in.

Otto took a long drink from the tea before handing that, the water, and the tissue box back to Atticus. He then settled wordlessly back down on Atty’s lap, pulling the pillow underneath his head and turning his face to snuggle into his partner’s soft midsection. He took Atticus’ hand and placed it back on his chest, rewarded with Atty stroking their thumb in the center as he covered his hand with theirs.

Atticus felt Otto’s nose nudge into their abdomen. They occupied the hand not taken by Otto to hold on his chest with the clock maker’s hair and scalp.

“I think your hiccups are gone,” the writer whispered after a moment.

Otto took a big breath and let it out slowly.

“Yeah,” he replied, the word imbued with relief.

“But maybe violently sneezing and coughing isn’t a cure we need to implement for future cases…” Atticus mused.

Otto coughed out a laugh, warm breath against Atty’s stomach.

“Nuh-uh,” he agreed emphatically. He snuggled further into the softness of his partner’s belly. It was so comfortable and warm. He could feel their heartbeat on his forehead. He could smell Atticus’ scent, a smell that was purely theirs. It gave him comfort as he felt himself become fuzzy and disconnected to consciousness. Soon he was asleep.

Atticus watched Otto as the profile of his face relaxed and his lips parted softly. The redness that had blotched his face earlier from his sneezing and coughing had lessened to reveal the freckles that littered across his cheeks. Soon the clock maker started twitching ever so slightly. His congestion gave him a soft snore that ebbed and waned with each breath. He lightly tugged at Atticus’ hand unconsciously, pulling his fingers around it more fervently before relaxing again. He pulled his legs up to rest his knees on the back of the couch then down again. Then one leg bent and one straight. Atticus watched the dance of their partner, completely immersed in his sleep journey. They were invested in following his movements until the writer found their own eyes growing heavy.

Atticus dozed, their head on the back of the couch, while Otto slept. The morning had already taken so much energy. Otto would recover in the next day, though his voice would take longer than he would like. Atticus would, in fact, contract the same illness. Though they would only have to suffer it for one day, a fact Otto would seemingly never stop complaining about the unfairness of. Though he would begrudgingly admit that having Atticus dependent on him was surprisingly fulfilling. Even if it was only for a day.

#hiccup kink #hiccups kink #hic fic #minors dni #hiccups #kink fic #otto and atticus #hiccuping #snz fic #sick fic #whump writing #whump fic

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