writingforfishes

[writingforfishes]

Take care of yourself as best you can, and happy meaning of life, the universe, and everything.

Finally got a venue! So, now it's...like...everything else! Ha ha ha!

But the place is set.

I guess it'll be a few more years until I learn the question. Must be a Thursday...

[writingforfishes]

Happy upcoming-birthday!

In your latest fic, when Atty expresses that their inducing-desires are silly, and Otto consoles the writer…I want you to know, I needed to read that. 

I often feel silly and insecure about it myself. Maybe I’m wasting time. But the frustration truly is agonizing. It is real, and it is valid. And I find a cathartic solidarity in knowing that I’m not alone. 

Good (un?)luck with your diaphragm, friend.

Thank you and this is SO AMAZING to read!

More than anything I want to validate others that they aren't the only ones who go through some of this weird shit having specifically to do with this kink.

Like, is it weird? Fuck yeah. But is it also a shared experience, also fuck yeah.

We are only as weird as each other and there is definitely some comfort in that. I'm glad I can confirm that!

Good (un)luck with your diaphragm as well. And thank you so much for the incredibly sweet message.

[writingforfishes]

I Still Live!

I'm still alive!

Just preoccupied with planning a birthday party for myself. (42 is gonna be the answer to life the universe and everything I just know it!) And also dealing with a nearly 1 year old insurance claim (they're so fussy at this age) and hoping to finalize a settlement amount soon.

In other news, my country is burning (metaphorically, but I'm sure literally in some places) and I have 2 stories in my drafts I keep having the attention span of a gnat in writing!

Feel free to throw me some inbox tidbits to keep me afloat.

Diaphragmic spasms still allude me.

Enjoy life, folks!

[writingforfishes]

Keep an eye on this series, fellow fish watchers. This has been one of my very favorites of hers!

Casanova - 1 - An Intriguing Predilection

Chapter 1

He took her hand again, stroking her thumb with his and kissing between each of her knuckles. “Is there nothing that sets you aflame? I don’t want to give you ‘pleasant enough.’ You deserve passion of the highest order.”

“O-oh,” Geneviève murmured, glancing away.

The look wasn’t lost on Casanova. “There is something.”

Quick preface here: I've watched a couple TV adaptations about Casanova, mainly because I liked the actors in them. I'd always been aware of Casanova in a tropey sense, the "legendary lover" kind of thing. But both adaptations I've seen highlighted that Casanova's irresistibility to women wasn't just about his looks, technique, size, etc. More important than any of that, he listened to women and cared about what they wanted, both in the bedroom and in their lives generally. He didn't just want to sleep with them for notches on his bedpost--he wanted to please them. Historical adaptations should be taken with a grain of salt, of course, but like I said, I've seen two versions of the story that both emphasize that quality. Which led me to this: what if Casanova met a woman with a hiccup kink? I won't describe Casanova physically here, so people can picture whoever they'd like: Heath Ledger, David Tennant, whatever. Personally, I'm basing this fic on, of all things, a pilot for a show that never got a full series order, starring Diego Luna. The pilot is set during a period when Casanova was living in Paris after escaping imprisonment in Venice, so that's where this story takes place.

CW: Brief sexual content, discussion of arousal.

No actual hiccups in this chapter, but they'll be coming in the next one.

The extraordinary life of Giacomo Casanova had seen much travel, but in his opinion, the most sumptuous country on Earth was the one found beneath a woman’s skirt. It was like an exquisite foreign land, filled with rolling curves, the taste of sweat in the air, and enchanting secrets to be discovered. It was a country whose shores he’d sought many times, and his passport was rarely turned away.

At present, Casanova was visiting the country of Geneviève, a bright and charming Parisian woman he’d met at the theatre. Under the folds of her skirt, he caressed her thigh with his hand while making a delicate, more thorough exploration with his tongue.

But there was a problem: he’d been welcomed into the antechamber, but all the interior doors were shut.

Casanova lifted Geneviève’s skirt and poked his head out. “You’re not enjoying yourself,” he observed.

“Believe me, Monsieur Casanova, I’ve no complaints,” Geneviève replied. She was reclining on her bed, but she reached forward to stroke his cheek. “You’re quite the adept.”

“I can tell when a woman is satisfied,” Casanova said, “and more importantly, when she’s not. What can I do better?” He took her hand and guided it between her legs. “Teach me how to please you.”

Geneviève blushed. She had sparkling green eyes and fawn brown hair in curls that drove Casanova wild, but now she looked down. “No, please, just-- just go on,” she said, pulling her hand away.

Casanova frowned. He draped her skirt back over her knees and joined Geneviève at the head of the bed. “Making love is like a duet,” he told her. “Both parts need to be in harmony, or the music sours. Something’s wrong.”

He brushed his fingers against her shoulder. “Perhaps there’s something different you want me to do,” he said. “Perhaps you’re not sure what you like, but you know it isn’t this. Perhaps you don’t want to be doing this at all. Any answer is fine, but I need you to tell me.”

“It’s nothing you’ve done, I promise you,” Geneviève said. She was blushing more furiously now, and she covered her cheeks with both hands. “I-I’ve never had a great love of, well, lovemaking. I mean, it’s pleasant enough, and the man always enjoys it. But in my experience, it’s not some perfect melody like you describe it.”

Casanova tsked, tucking one of her curls behind her ears. “‘Pleasant enough?’” he repeated. “You can’t have had it very good if you think of it like that.”

He took her hand again, stroking her thumb with his and kissing between each of her knuckles. “Is there nothing that sets you aflame? I don’t want to give you ‘pleasant enough.’ You deserve passion of the highest order.”

“O-oh,” Geneviève murmured, glancing away.

The look wasn’t lost on Casanova. “There is something,” he said, smiling like he’d just tasted something sweet. “Would you tell me? A beautiful woman should be loved according to her desires, or what’s the point?”

Geneviève bit her lower lip; Casanova could have feasted on her pout for days. “I can’t,” she insisted. “It’s—it’s too bizarre. What you’ll think of me!”

Oh, Casanova was intrigued now. What were these secret longings that made Geneviève squirm? “You needn’t tell me if you don’t want to,” he said gently, “but I hope you will. Pleasure can be curious, and it can be startling, but it’s never bizarre.” He caressed her cheek. “It’s up to you.”

For a long moment, they said nothing, and Casanova thought perhaps he was going to be turned out. It happened now and again—not often, but whenever it did, he accepted his dismissal with grace.

Then, looking away from him and fidgeting with her hands, Geneviève murmured something. “What?” Casanova asked, leaning in closer. “I didn’t hear you.”

There was such charm in her blush. Geneviève cleared her throat and repeated herself, a little louder. “…Hih-hiccups,” she said.

Casanova had never encountered this before. The notion tickled him. “Really,” he mused.

Geneviève turned away, sitting up on the bed. She wrapped both arms around herself. “You see?” she exclaimed. “You must think me so strange!”

“But strange isn’t bad,” Casanova reminded her. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, sweeping her curls aside so he could kiss her neck. “What’s the fun in being ordinary?”

Geneviève dared a glance back at him. “Y-you’re not…?” she asked, trailing off.

“What?” Casanova replied. “Shocked? Scandalized? Never—I find the mystery of your pleasure intriguing.” He smiled thoughtfully as questions flitted through his mind. “Yours or someone else’s?”

The question must have caught Geneviève off guard, because she turned back toward him now, her embarrassment forgotten for the moment. “What was that?”

“The hiccups,” Casanova said. “Do you like it when they’re yours or someone else’s?”

She looked down again, but more coyly this time. A hint of a shy smile played at her lips. “Either,” she admitted.

She was beginning to relax—good. “And have you had a chance to experience this fantasy for yourself?” Casanova asked. “Made love while—?”

“Never with someone else,” Geneviève told him. Her blush was softer, fonder. “But on my own, on…different occasions.”

Casanova grinned as he imagined it, Geneviève alone in her bedroom bringing herself to a climax, helped along by her intriguing predilection.

His thoughts turned over possibilities. “Do you know a way to get them?” he asked. “I mean, is there something you can do to make them come?”

Geneviève plucked at a stray curl. “I’m sometimes able to bring them on,” she said. “Rich food, a little too much wine—that sort of thing.”

“Well, that’s easy enough to find!” Casanova exclaimed. He jumped his feet and started buttoning his shirt. “There’s always a party somewhere in Paris, and I’m invited to all of them.” He offered her a hand up. “Shall we?”

[writingforfishes]

Well, "hiccups" obviously. But I've trained myself to not react and in fact forcefully reversed course on saying it, pushing myself to say it in normal conversation.

(If I was talking to someone who knew it was my kink I'd have a much harder time saying it in front of them.)

"Muffle" and "stifle" get me a little.

"Excuse me" is one I find myself looking around at to see if it was a hiccup or a burp.

These are more events, but whenever someone takes a first drink of something carbonated, I find my senses on high alert.

Some innocuous sounds make me look around as well. The sound of water dripping used to drive me crazy because it sort of sounds like hiccups.

If I'm watching a video game a lot of the grunts also sound like hiccups to me.

That's all I can think of now, but good question!

Popping in quickly again to ask fellow kink havers if you have any otherwise benign words that are just so associated with kink to you that you flinch when hearing them in normal everyday discussion. For me it is smorgasbord that is just such a kinky ass word

[writingforfishes]

Otto and Atticus: Unduction

Okay, so, I talk so much about my own induction failures and imply Atticus is just as immune to hiccups as myself so why not finally write about it?

CW:

Lots more belching than I've ever had in a story, from Atty.

Frustrated and gassy.

Otto just innocently accidentally inducing.

Hiccups from sparkling water.

Bloated belly-Atty

Scar mention-top surgery

Casual alcoholism mention-in jest

Fast hiccups

Hiccups that get worse

Detailed description of a hard-on and a penis' actions

Atticus' thoughts on genitalia

Clit stimulation mention

Humping

Writer's note mentions farts but farts aren't in the story proper

Longer more detailed descriptions of arousal and acts to solve that arousal

Hairy bellies

Attempts in failed inducing including spice, carbonation, burping, fake hiccuping, breathing erratically, and abdominal manipulation

Hiccups cured by orgasm

It was midnight. Atticus sat forlorn at the kitchen table. They were shirtless, only wearing their sweats. Otto had gone to bed a while ago and the writer had been bored so had, once again, decided to try to trick the elusive hiccups out of their diaphragm's much too tight control over their breathing. They didn't attempt to induce too terribly often anymore, but they did get a wild hair now and then about it, a wonder if they were still impervious as they used to be to hiccups.

Otto knew anecdotally of Atty's attempts but had never witnessed them himself. They were far too embarrassed to do this in front of him. Heck, they were too embarrassed to do this in front of themselves but, being that their disassociation hadn't gotten to expert level yet, here they were witness to all of their most shameful attempts.

Atticus has started innocently enough on the couch. The writer had been reading some hiccup fic by someone else on a community they were a part of. They'd grabbed a cold sparkling water from the fridge and chugged a good portion of it. They tried quickly gulping and the belching to entice some sort of acidic imbalance or glitch in their phrenic or vagus nerve. They held their throat wide as they drank, feeling the burn of the bubbles coat the soft tissues of their esophagus.

From there they performed all sorts of maneuvers. They took in breath in a widened throat and belched it out over and over and over again. They panted, still keeping their throat widened. They stopped breathing after exhaling entirely. They faked hiccups both loudly and silently. They palpated their abdomen under their ribs. Frustrated and leaving their shirt on the couch from having gained access to their soft fuzzy belly during their administrations of attempts at inducing, they headed to the kitchen.

They took the rest of their sparkling water with them as they pulled hot sauce from the fridge. Pouring the hot sauce on a spoon, they quickly downed the spicy liquid with a wide throat and followed it up with more sparkling water.

For a moment it felt hopeful. The sensation at the back of their throat was thick and tight like Otto had described having before getting them. But after a few more belches nothing came of the trials except for a feeling of gassiness and a sore throat.

The writer, defeated and dreading the indigestion which would follow, lay their head on hands folded over each other on top of the table and groaned.

This is how Otto found them as he slipped into the kitchen after waking up with a dry throat and finding his water bottle empty. At first, he didn't know if they were asleep or not as he surveyed the nearly empty bottle of sparkling water, opened bottle of hot sauce, and spoon haphazardly sat next to it upside down with a small ring of hot sauce leaving a mark on the surface of the table.

"Um, should I ask or ignore...all of this?" Otto said, testing their consciousness.

Atticus' head bolted up at the sound of his voice, eyes wide and hands suddenly smacked against the table in surprise as their face put on a distinct expression of being caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing. They had started to doze off when the clockmaker had arrived.

"Um...um..." Atty stuttered, frowning as they attempted to put anything together about the situation that wasn't their obsessive desire to get a case of the hiccups. They then let out a long belch, diaphragm doing its due diligence in bouncing the air helpfully from their stomach without fuss or rebound, "BRAAAUUUUUUUURP!"

Otto chuckled as his partner covered their mouth sheepishly. Then he narrowed his eyes, brain catching up with the significance of the carbonation and spice and the mild look of guilt on Atticus' features.

"So...I'm guessing it didn't work?" Otto asked.

Atticus shook their head, face flushing slightly.

Otto's features grew soft, then. He sat down across from the writer.

"You really want them, don't you?" he asked with genuine care.

Atticus sighed.

"Yeah, man, I really do," they said, speaking for the first time since he'd found them. Their voice was hoarse and low from the hot sauce and carbonation acid. "Just...I want to feel what they feel like. I want to...see my belly jump. I want-I want to try to talk through them. I want to feel my body shake. I...nngh...I know it's silly. Most people try not to get them."

"You're not most people," Otto reminded them. As Atticus groaned, he added, "Which is why I like you."

"It's just...why is my diaphragm so fucking efficient?!" they blurted.

Otto guffawed, throwing his head back momentarily.

"Well," he said when he recovered, "some of us were blessed with highly argumentative diaphragms. We all have our gifts. I'm glad I can share it with you, at least. And, who knows, maybe one day you'll fuck up your body in just the right way to get a case of hiccups whenever you want. But until that day, I'll gladly be your proxy hiccuper. Hell knows I've fucked up my body enough for the both of us!"

Atticus smiled and shook their head with exasperation.

"Well considering I have no immediate plans to become an alcoholic and abuse alcohol until I'm hospitalized..." they said.

"Extremely wise decision, zero out of ten stars, would not recommend. The shiny coins and crappy coffee they give you at the meetings aren't worth it," Otto said with a decisive nod and a decent amount of dark humor.

"But, hey, shiny coins..." Atticus replied weakly.

"I know I know, it's a hard decision between shiny coins and a healthy pancreas and liver but I think you made the right choice, bud. Besides, dodgy diaphragmic control isn't always guaranteed."

"Ahhh, yeaaah, valid point," they replied with an amused huff. Then they reached over, grabbing his hand lightly.

"I'm sorry," Atticus continued. "I know this is silly."

"Listen," Otto replied, rubbing their hand with his thumb, "I might not understand why you want to get hiccups so much, but I can guess it's because they arouse you and you want to feel what you're aroused by in your body. I can get that to a degree. Getting hiccups is...well used to be, I guess...so uneventful to me. Can I...do anything to, um, make you feel better?"

Atty tilted their head with a small smile.

"Maybe get me an antacid? That sparkling water and hot sauce is kind of fucking up my insides right no-UUURAAAUP!-ugh!" they replied rubbing their bloated belly with a wince.

Otto chuckled again giving one final rub of his thumb to their hand before getting up and retrieving the medication.

"Guessing you want just regular water?" he guessed.

"Yeah, that sparkling shit can fuck right off! Useless bubbles," Atticus muttered.

"You mind if I finish it, then? I came down because my throat got dry and my water bottle was empty," he asked as he sat the glass of water in front of the writer.

"Have at it, man," Atty said, downing the water and medication with a wince.

Another large "EEERRRAAAAAUUUP!" exploded from the small person as they put one of their hands on their stomach when it expanded before expelling the air.

As Otto took a swig, he startled a little at the sound of it, swallowing the bubbling drink as he stifled a laugh. And, really, the couple should've anticipated this event. A drink meant to induce hiccups in a person impervious to them imbibed by a person fairly prone to getting hiccups should've been a red flag of happening.

But to be fair, they were both quite tired and Otto hadn't had a significant hiccup case in nearly a week. A little sparkling water shouldn't have immediately set him off. But that scoffing laugh certainly didn't help.

The first few hiccups were squelched as the clockmaker was still in the process of gulping water. But he made a face and held his chest as the Lngk! Nngk! cluster charged on into muffled hiccups he swallowed. When he looked up at his partner he was met with an annoyed incredulous face.

"Seriously?! It took you one fucking swig? One damn gulp?" Atticus said with frustration.

"Sorr—y I—wasn't—even—try—ing to-hm'mgk!-get the—them!" Otto said, struggling with the rapidness as he frowned with a fist over his mouth as his body continued to jerk rhythmically to small, muffled squeaks.

The deluge of hiccups halted briefly to a modest burp before continuing.

"You don't have to rub it in!" Atticus exclaimed, which made Otto laugh despite the abruptness of his case. "Great. And now I'm turned on, too!"

"Oh—yeah?-hng'ngk!hm'mgk!Himpk!-uh," Otto asked waggling his eyebrows.

"I mean...are you, like, in the mood? It's midnight and they're really fast..." Atticus said, squirming in their seat a little.

Otto shrugged.

"If you-urngk!-are then Hngk! I a—am!" he said. "I do-ngk't think they'll la-Hilngk!-st lo—ong!"

Otto unconsciously licked his lips as he stared at them from underneath his browline, eyes a little hungry even while sleep hung to his lashes and his lids were lightly blushed and swollen from having woken up.

"Aw jeez," Atticus muttered as they watched his head jerk in with every one.

The couple ended up on their tried (and tried and tried) and true couch. Usually, Atty would straddle Otto's belly (which he'd made very accessible by removing his shirt). But with how bloated their stomach was, they discussed wanting to lay on top of him on their back instead to give all of the gas still pent up in their abdomen room to shift as they got off.

"Can I-hngk!-rub your bel—lly?" Otto had asked when he saw how swollen and round their stomach was under surgery scars. It took Otto until this point to realize how bloated their partner was from their induction attempts. The writer really had tried very hard this time.

"Uh...yeah," Atty said after a moment of consideration to the role reversal.

"Jee—eez, it's so har-hngk'l!-hard!" Otto commented as his thumb pressed down on the peak of air under their ribcage. Atty groaned in response.

"I think that's-nng-my line hu-UUURAAAAUUP! Oh! Man!" they said after they blew the air expelled out of their mouth. Their hips were slowly gyrating to Otto's trembling belly beneath them.

"Heh-hng'l!Hup! W—was that Hukkle!Hulp! a h-hmp!-iccup?" he asked at the spasm he'd felt under his fingers.

"No..." Atty said, trailing off as they grabbed Otto's thigh below them, it already raised at his knee's bend, and slowly started humping it in desperation for stimulation. "Kinda...it's...um...it's like one but it doesn't lead to any more? I think it's just what the diaphragm is supposed to do when it's irritated? Sort of shove at the stomach to push the gas out or something. Gawd, man, you've got them so bad!"

The writer was understandably distracted by Otto hiccuping right beside their ear and feeling every soft cushioned jerk in their partner's abdomen, jiggling along with his spasms as they laid on top of him.

"It's the, um, closest I can get to experiencing what they feel like, though hu-UUUUHAAAAUUUP!-guh! Thanks for pushing that one out!" Atticus said to Otto's thumb adding more pressure to the same place it was before.

Otto's hiccups were getting more intense with him becoming more and more aroused to Atticus' reactions. He hissed between hiccups as he started to lower the waistband of his short over his hardening penis. He had to stop rubbing Atty's soft, fuzzy stomach to do so, but it was worth feeling the pressure from the fabric of his shorts release from the organ's growth.

"HU'UGK!-H'URGK!-mm! Oh! H'IRGK!HULGK!H'MILGK! They d—do feel a H'UR! lot li—ike a hi-HI'LMP!-hiccup. Gaw—awd! HNGK!NGK!HU'ULP!-uh!" he said as his arousal continued to climb.

"Yeah, I like see-oof! Nngh! I like seeing my stomach jerk when they happen. Ooh! Wait, Otto! Don't...don't touch yourself, yet! I wanna-wanna see you...it...wait a sec," Atticus put a hand on his forearm and could feel him panting into their ear with a whine.

It had taken a while for Atticus to be normal about Otto's penis. They'd never really been particularly attracted to penises, honestly. No sexual organ was something that aroused them particularly and, thus, they remained impassively curious about things like penises and clits (despite paying attention to their own) until they had a partner who had a penis.

For the most part, it was still a body part that held no intrinsic value to the writer. It existed and it looked a little weird and that was that. Over time they'd appreciated stimulating it to see what it did to their partner, though, and they gained respect for the organ in a peripheral sort of way.

They'd read something on a forum they had to know was true or not. Someone claimed when he hiccuped his dick jumped in time when he was hard. So, they stopped Otto from satiating himself so they could watch.

To their delighted amazement, Otto's erect penis did jerk ever so slightly to each of his hiccups. They found themselves laughing.

Otto huffed beside them, deep gulpy hiccups clicking in the back of his throat.

"Are y-HLNGK! laugh-HINGK! at m-ILPK! pe-HIP'K!-nis?!" he asked gruffly.

"No! Fuck! No! It...it jumps every time...every time you...you hiccup!" Atticus hurriedly explained. "It's...it's kinda hot."

"Ca-HULPK!HILNGK!-uh, beli—ieve you ne-HILGNK!HULK!HU'UCK!-uh, mm, never HI'ULP!HILK! no—noticed that HMK!HMMK!HMMMK!-uh, before!" he said as his face crinkled in the sensations of arousal without stimulation to get off.

The feeling of Atticus humping his thigh was driving him absolutely insane. The writer unintentionally edging him was making his hiccups all the harder.

"Can HM'MMK! Can I-HI'URRGK!HI'ILP!HU'ULP!HUP!HNGK!-uh! HI'URK!HI'ILK!-UUH!" Otto asked desperately as his fingers twitched toward the swollen member.

"Huh? Oh, gawd, yeah! Yes! Sorry! Gawd!" Atty struggled to say.

Otto's arm had wrapped around Atty's back and now, as one of his hands was busy with finally servicing himself, he trailed fingers down the fuzzy happy trail of Otto's soft fleshy belly and pushed an index finger at the waistband of their sweats in permission.

Atticus looked down at the sensation and grunted with a nod as they lifted the elastic band and let the digits find their engorged clit, their mini penis, in the nest of pubic hair. The writer was always surprised how much focus Otto could have during these moments where his body was completely out of control in two very big and expressive ways, but he was cognizant enough to purposely service Atty and pay attention to their arousal.

If they thought about it more, they'd realize Atticus' arousal played a direct role in Otto's. The more aroused Atty became the more aroused Otto became. So, it ended up being very much like second nature for Otto to seek out ways to increase and intensify how much enjoyment the writer got.

As it was now, they were both in the throes of orgasms. Otto's hiccups had started to elongate with his moans between panting breaths.

"HU'UUUUURK!-guuuh! HU'ILLLNGK!-H'NNNGK!-UH!HUH!MM!" Otto vocalized as Atticus' desperate pants and whines accompanied him.

With throaty vocalizations they both finally relaxed, spending a few moments twitching against the residual stimuli brushing against the live-wire sensitivity of their privates.

Otto panted free of hiccups as his hand lingered in Atty's pants and on top of his penis for a moment before he retracted them slowly, a grunt from Atty as he withdrew from them. He rested one of his hands on his bare chest, running his fingers lightly over the hair there. The other hand he rubbed on his partner's belly in comforting motions.

During the arousal Atticus' belches had accompanied his hiccups. They were sharp, pushed out by their clenched body.

Writer's note: *pushes against the curtain of the 4th wall until they finally find the separation in the fabric and comes out on the stage disheveled.* Hey all! Just a note here. I'm not really into farts, but I just wanted it to be known that Atticus probably did fart during this. It's only natural, but I just didn't mention it. If you are into farts and you want to imagine that happening, go for it. I just...wanted you to know that. Just to keep the realism of it all. Okay. I'm done. Just...gotta find out how to get back in...gimme a second...heh...got it! No, I found it. Curtains just...are very deceptive, okay...have fun with the rest of the story!

Otto rubbed Atty's belly, then, in hopes to help calm their stomach down from the gas he still felt bubbling inside it.

"You good?" the clockmaker asked as he grabbed a lungful of air and let it out.

"Yeah, mmph!" they said and squirmed onto their side, slowly disengaging themselves from Otto's thigh in the process.

Atticus snuggled their face into the crook of Otto's neck as they felt their stomach contents calm down with the new position.

"You?" they asked. "They got pretty violent there for a little while."

"Yeah," Otto confirmed as he rubbed their shoulder. "They didn't last long, though. I'm good."

"Mmm," Atticus hummed, hot breath leaving their mouth onto the surface of Otto's collarbone. Their body spasmed again and another airy burp left their mouth, hotter breath on Otto's skin. But when he waited nothing else followed.

"You really are built way too efficiently," Otto said with amusement. "You're so close to actually hiccuping."

"Bane of my fucking existence," Atty agreed with a grumble.

"Maybe one day, sweet wordsmith," Otto said softly.

Atticus chuckled at the term of endearment.

"From your mouth to my diaphragm's ears, beautiful clocksmith," Atticus joked.

Otto poked Atty's stomach as they twitched with the tickling sensation.

"Hear that, buddy? Better start acting up or my partner is gonna make themselves sick trying to get the hiccups," Otto said, antagonizing their diaphragm.

"Okay okay. Let's go to bed now, man. I'm exhausted," they said as they swatted Otto's hand away.

"Alright. Love you, little writer," he said.

"Love you too, big clockmaker!" they replied.

[writingforfishes]

Otto would love to go to Mini Con with this dude. Do you KNOW how detailed miniature grandfather clocks can get? Not to mention tools for miniature stuff would most likely be very beneficial to have for watches!

And as long as Otto's diaphragm behaves, I'm sure they'd both have as fun of a time as you could have at a miniature's convention.

"nobody wants to go to Mini Con with you man. there are no hot chicks at mini con" "im worried i can only go to Large con, im kind of a big fella"

[writingforfishes]

Bah ha ha ha ha!

Atticus coming off as well-rounded and charismatic is such a genuinely bizarre thought! It's even more ridiculous considering Atticus is basically me with a mustache and the ability to get paid for writing.

But cool! (I probably do write them so much cooler than me, honestly.)

But REAL. Atticus can't fucking get hiccups. And I think the next fic I'm going to go into it how annoying they find it.

(Enoch having super-fast hiccups does things to me...that smart dweeb needs to be comforted while hiccuping and be assured it's okay! I love Cael and Enoch so much, y'all!)

Does Enoch ever hiccup? Or is he just like an Atticus?

He can under certain circumstances like coughing a lot or laughing a lot (things he tries not to do, he'd rather throw up) they're the kind where you can't even get a word in so he doesn't like to induce or anything like that.

it's rlly funny to try and compare because Enoch is a hapless nerd with unnerving hobbies and interests without a drop of rizz and Atticus is so nice and well rounded and charismatic to me?? Comparing this show dog to a dirty nervous rat I found in the alley

Also funnier to refer to someone who can't hiccup as an Atticus LEAVE THAT MAN ALONE!

[writingforfishes]

Question, will Bran, Otto, and Atticus ever meet? Or are they in separate universes?~

I feel like for some reason it'd be interesting to see them interacting with each other.

I have absolutely given this some consideration. The answer is, perhaps.

If anyone has ideas of how they could see them inhabiting the same area, let me know.

The most obvious one is at an art gallery. I feel like all three of them would find their way there. A coffee house is a second no-brainer on somewhere they'd all end up naturally.

As far as Bran becoming part of the Otto and Atticus story, I'm not sure. I think crossovers and cameos could be amusing, but I also want Bran to have a much fuller lore and be way more developed before I put him up against such developed characters with rich histories.

Bran has been great rp fodder, though. I'm learning a lot about him from silly little role play activities. As he's not based on any specific character or person, it's gonna take a little longer to solidify his personality and history.

Thank you for the ask!

[writingforfishes]

Just thinking of hiccups...

Round hiccups HUP! HIP! HUP! HOCK! HULP!

Double-sylllables HU'UP! HU'UCK! HU'IRK! HI'ULK! HI'URK!

Fast hiccups HIC!HIC!HUP!UCK!HICK'M!...HI'UCK!HOCK!HUCK!HILP!

Silent hiccups that are both single and double syllable, strong and fast.

Muffled and stifled hiccups HMP! HMPH! HMK! MK! HM'MK! MMK! MPH!

Sharp high-pitched hiccups HILK! HILP! HI'ILP! HEEP! HIC!

Low-pitched hoarse hiccups HURK! H'MURK! URK! HUCK!

Gulpy hiccups HLNGK! H'URGK! HINGK! URP! HURP! H'ULGK! HNGK'L! UGK! H'MULK!

Hiccups that don't end in a hard syllable, breathier inhales that can be hard or soft HUH! HM! HIH! H'UH! HUH'M! UH!

And all the hiccups in between.

Just thinking of hiccups and giving my OCs the worst ones in the world.

Then giving them people who care about them to ease the soreness and frustration and help them rest or wait with them until they end.

[writingforfishes]

Laying around like a group of distended ticks unable to do much more than revel in the ecstasy and laugh at themselves.

This is a fantastic sentence.

Very specific fantasy scenario: a bunch of vampires overindulging on blood and lounging together in the aftermath of sanguine gluttony, normally well put together individuals letting themselves relax and getting tipsy from going way beyond simply sating thirst. A gaggle of ordinarily vain and disciplined individuals giggling at each others’ bloated bellies and drunkenly slurring between belches and hiccups. Laying around like a group of distended ticks unable to do much more than revel in the ecstasy and laugh at themselves. Guh

[writingforfishes]

So, just doing a cursory search about shape language and it is really interesting. Here's my breakdown from a novice understanding of it.

Otto's face is full of triangles. Eyebrows and browline are triangular making him appear fiercer than he actually is. He has higher cheekbones that also lend to sharper features.

His lips and shape of his beard are rounder and softer even though his jawline comes to a sharper chin. So, while his eyes make him seem unpredictable and dangerous, it's very symbolic that what he uses to speak negates that.

His shoulders would be rectangular, though he slouches at times which makes them look a little rounder. His belly is round as well, though not remarkably so if you're looking at him dressed. It's more a collection of roundness than a circle.

His legs would probably be described as more rectangular as well as his forearms. His hands are a collection of rectangles. Again, this seems to be symbolic as he is most sure with his hands and carries more ability and strength in them.

Apply this to a tall clock and you might end up with something with a steepled top like this one

and a body sort of like this one

Something with either an overtly curved center or a very large circular pendulum.

Been looking at a lot of grandfather clocks and thinking about shape language. The diversity of shapes and curves and angles is mesmerizing. I wonder what Otto's shape language would look like.

[writingforfishes]

In one of the first fics of them, I think, Atty asks Otto something similar.

“What would you say is a clock version of a hiccup?” Atticus wondered out loud. Otto had rested his head in his hand, though the hiccups were throwing his head away from being propped up consistently, and curled his fingers in his hair in sudden though. “I-HUCK!-uh. I don-don’t think-HUCK!-the-HMP!-there’s HUP!-a d-direct com-MMP!-MP!-parison. M-maybe HUP-UH!-s-someth-HMP-ing w-HIP!-ith th-HMP!-the esc-NK!-apeme-NK!-t? Or-MP!-or str-HIC!-striking a-at HMP!-the wr-HNK!-ong MP! HMPK!-hour?” Otto replied.

But thinking about it more, I think a clock OC would probably have an issue with the pendulum or hair spring. Something that would cause the time to stop, perhaps? I'm not sure what technical issue that would be, but it makes more sense than it triggering strikes or chimes.

The idea of Otto or Atticus writing a clock OC is ADORABLE and I love it!!

Also, obviously the OC would be a tall clock like a grandmother or grandfather clock. And if it had weights, that could be a part of it, too!

How ‘bout a clock OC whose hiccups interfere with their timekeeping duties? Lots of potential reactions. Now I’m staring at pictures of random-ass timepieces and thinking, “okay, but what PERSONALITY would that clock have?”

[writingforfishes]

Hi, I read your ao3 stuff even if I’m too cowardly to leave a comment on anything (yet) BUT I wanted to tell you I enjoy Otto & Atticus a lot. It fills a niche I don’t see filled very often, aka slice of life stuff, and the fact it’s a queer couple makes me <3 just thought you should know!

Y'all gotta quit given me compliments like this. I literally have no brain storage for this content.

[writingforfishes]

You're so welcome! Thank you for answering them!

Good to know I've been at least intuitive about muscles being sore in the chest area and have included more than once someone hiccuping in their sleep!

It's interesting that the link for you is overindulging. It sounds like a fun way to enjoy hiccups interactively! I wish you many casual comments like, "Hiccups? Did you eat too fast/too much? Awww."

You've said you get hiccups a lot, near chronic amounts. You are also into hiccups as a kink.

What is your idea of the perfect case of hiccups for you to experience in yourself?

Do you appreciate others enjoying your hiccups, or is that not part of it for you?

If you could create for yourself the perfect kink experience involving your hiccups, what would it look like? (With or without someone else. And, obviously, you don't have to answer this to completion or at all if you're not comfortable sharing.)

Additional question: For those of us who don't get hiccups who write fiction about people who are prone to hiccups, what things do you think we should know about having hiccups a lot? Is there something we might not be considering which might increase the believability of the story or experience of the fictional hiccuper?

Ultimately, it's a work of exaggerated fiction. But I'm always worried/curious if I'm depicting hiccups realistically. It might not change my fantasy experience, but adding realism is always a goal and definitely enhances the experience of writing it.

(Once again, passing on answering any part of this and only answering some parts is completely acceptable.)

I appreciate you sharing what you have. I hope you're able to find acceptance in your fetish and a supportive community here.

Hello and sorry I’m late answering this!

Perfect case of hiccups — I’d say I definitely best like them when I’ve overindulged in some way, either ate or drank too much or both, I enjoy feeling my full belly lurch around. They also just feel and sound better when I’m full or tipsy lol. Deep and robust

How I feel about other appreciating them — Positive to neutral, I don’t like being asked to perform but I’ll take appreciation for what I choose to share. On a kink level I do like people noticing I ate too much or something because I’m hiccuping. It’s a fun embarrassment XD

Perfect kink experience — I can’t really answer this right now, haha

One thing to know about having hiccups a lot — Muscles in and around my chest can get sore and thats not fun, but they’ve toughened up over the years. Also, hiccuping in your sleep happens more than you might think it does!

These were fun questions, tysm!

[writingforfishes]

I'm on the gel too!

It's the alcohol. It's very pungent. It's also why it's good to moisturize after it dries on your body. I don't do that enough, though. But the alcohol will dry those parts out.

And there's evidence saying putting lotion on an hour after helps your body absorb even more. But I'm usually doing it after the shower I take right before I go to work, so I don't have that opportunity.

@worm-writes-hicfics hid "fem&m's" in the tags selfishly as another name for estradiol and I'm exposing it for the beautiful pun it is.

T doesn't come in pills, unfortunately. Only injections, patches, and gels. (And I think an under the skin implant thing.) I guess it can't be absorbed correctly through the digestive system? Ionno.

so.... finale came out. Freed's still dead.

(from @writingforfishes )

......

yeah i need this now too. ignore how bad i am at non angst

cw: hiccup kink, kissing (without direct consent but reciprocated), confessions

(all the nicknames are from last time i wrote these, same universe, consider this an alternate +1 to my last fic)

Gift flopped onto the couch next to Freed, sighing softly. Freed's heartbeat sped up slightly. Gift swallowed. Maybe a part of him broke in that moment, safe next to Freed.

"Why does your heartbeat speed up around me? Did I do something to make you fear me?" Gift asked, voice soft. Freed's heart sped up exponentially. His breath paused for a moment, his teeth creaking softly as they clamped against each other.

Then... HUCK!

Gift's breath caught on a snag in his throat. He'd never heard Freed hiccup before, and somehow he understood the speed of Freed's heart would increase at his own hiccups. He could feel the faint heat off Freed's face.

The usual sensations that would come from Freed, the heartbeats, the increased swallowing, the warmth of his body, didn't come with Freed having hiccups himself. Gift however, was beginning to realize where those sensations came from in Frees.

"I'm not HUP! afraid of you, Gi-HURK!-Gifty." Freed's elbow creaked softly and his words became muffled by fingers over his mouth. "Shit, sorry about HUK! these."

Gift shook his head. "Don't worry, I don't mind."

Freed shifted in his seat, suppressing a hiccup with a hrmfp! sound. Gift pressed his teeth to his tongue as the couch dipped with the hiccup. Gift waited for an explanation wordlessly.

"G-HURK!-Gift. You can't be HURP! this dense, hon-HUP!-honestly." Freed sighed, attempting to hold his breath before giving up with a hiccup. Gift didn't move, now allowing himself to think of the other options. "Oh for HUCK! gods sake, Gifty."

And then soft skin was on Gift's lips. Freed's breath tickled Gift's faint mustache, and his hand curled around Gift's face. It took Gift a moment to process the sensations as Freed's lips jolted with hiccups against his own.

Fuck. They were kissing.

And Gift loved it.

Gift pressed against Freed, falling into the kiss head first. His hand found it's way up Freed's arm, tracing his jolting adam's apple and curling in Freed's hair.

They pulled back breathlessly. Freed's forehead met with Gift's gently. "I'm in love HUCK! with you, id-HURK!-idiot."

Gift didn't speak. Even if he had tried to it was unlikely words would come out. Instead he shifted to lay his head on Freed's shoulder, pressing himself against Freed. Freed instantly wrapped an arm around Gift, kissing the top of his head. His hiccups unfortunately jolted so that Freed's nose hit against Gift's head. Gift suppressed a yelp of surprise.

"Fuck, I'm HUCK! sorry," Freed held Gift closer and breathed in slight faster. Gift rested his head against Freed's heartbeat.

"I'm alright, just surprised is all. You didn't hurt me." Gift managed to get the words out his throat, listening to the echoing of Freed's hiccups and heart in his rib cage. "I love you too, for the record."

The room temperature shifted around Gift as Freed's face warmed. The smell of bug spray and musky sugar began to fade into Gift's awareness. The smell of testosterone, of Freed's excitement.

Gift sunk into Freed as his hiccups seemed to speed up from excitement.

"T-HURK!-Thank HUCK-UP! you," Freed mumbled. Gift chuckled softly and found Freed's neck by tracing down from his lips. He placed a soft kiss on Freed's neck, not pulling away as it bounced. The temperature near Freed increased again.

Gift soaked in the heat, he ran cold as it was. He could nearly fall asleep in Freed's arms. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so safe. And Freed's hiccups were practically rocking him to sleep.

This was good, Gift thought. Freed smelled like peppermint cologne and the strawberry candle Ray had lit in the office. Freed was safe, and Gift felt safe with him.

"I HURK! lo-HUP!-love HUCK! you."

"I love you too. I wish we'd done this sooner."

"S-HUMF!-Same."

[writingforfishes]

(from daydreammm)

author your updated bio is so funny i didnt even think of that when i read the fic

Haha!

Another user informed me after I posted that fic that my bio was no longer correct, so of course I had to change it!