writingforfishes

[writingforfishes]

This blog is NOT safe for minors to follow

I've just blocked a blog from a person saying they were 14 years old in their first post.

This blog explicitly talks about kinks. This is not a safe blog for anyone who is not of legal age (18+) to follow.

I can't control who follows me, but I can block those who are underage.

And, yes, also this is my comfort level we're talking about here.

If you are underage and want to keep my blog bookmarked, I can't stop you from doing that. But please do not follow me.

Technically I don't believe I post anything which is not already under a mature filter that will pose harm to those under 18, but my boundaries are my boundaries. I have stated what my boundaries are in several posts and in my pinned post.

I implore you not to follow me if you are underage.

[writingforfishes]

Sideblogs and Communities

We've hit a little roadblock with the innocuous community I made.

If you are using a sideblog, you cannot use the sideblog to join the community.

You are free to join with a main, but I know even in a private community that might not be something in everyone's comfort level.

Please rest assured I won't be NOT posting on the main tumblr website. I will still post all stories here.

The community might end up (for me) being more for discussion about fandoms or joining in on discussions with people who don't feel safe to be active on main tumblr.

And, I guess, I'll also post stories on the community. Unfiltered fandom stories for sure!

At any rate, I hope the community becomes a really neat safe place for others to share more without the fear of being discovered.

You're all worth the acceptance of your kink and the celebration of what arouses you.

[writingforfishes]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6oR9Auv/

OTTOCUS CODED TIKTOK

🤣

Okay! But now I gotta know who you think is which.

[writingforfishes]

Tumblr Community

I know a few people have been talking about a community which is a little more insular or secure.

I'm not really able to use the disco... communities because of it not playing nicely with my computer.

I also don't really want to make another username.

I'm gauging interest in a very under-the-radar titled Tumblr community as an option.

I've thrown together one with a couple of stock images and an innocuous name.

It's private and is also marked for mature content so it can't be found by people under 18 (or those who've been honest about their ages in their settings).

If you're interested, feel free to communicate with me in a way which is most comfortable. You can comment here, send me a DM, or send me an ask.

(A note about sending an anonymous ask is I won't be able to give you the invite code through an anonymous ask. I would have to send it through DM or get your username to invite you directly.)

If not enough people are interested, that is perfectly okay. I didn't spend that long crafting this thrown together community and it won't hurt my feelings. If people are interested, that's great, too! I'll work on rules and boundaries so everyone feels safe sharing whatever content or thoughts they want without fear of someone breaking the sanctity of the community.

Additionally, if there IS enough interest and someone else would like moderator status, communicate that with me as well!

[writingforfishes]

*laughing at the timing of the unfortunate discovery of the post about the thing you just talked about*

I have actually been wondering if anyone would be interested in starting a community on here.

I could very easily start a private community and name it something innocuous like "The Aquarium". Might make a post outside of this reblog about it. I've been thinking of proposing it for a while.

this is entirely unrelated to what I just posted. writing that one somehow reminded me of this other thing I meant to say like a week ago that I don't think I brought up.

ik some of the ppl here have mentioned the idea of a hickink d.scord server before and I've already mentioned myself that I would very neutrally not engage with one if yall made it (im not making an extra account and I prefer this platform for kink community anyway)

when I've weighed in on this previously I believe I forgot to give this warning—if y'all just go looking online for hickinksters for that other platform, be careful and discerning if you join any. the one I was (emphasis on was as I'm not anymore) in i had found from a hickink subredd.t and it turned out to be owned and run by a minor who was like "this age is legally adult in my country n you don't technically have to interact with me"

so just be aware 😭

also idt I've seen anyone add that there's a community feature on this platform? if y'all rly want a more organized space for hickink stuff to filter out whatever else floods our tags then like... there's that, that's an option probably

[writingforfishes]

Trope: Alien

Thinking about an alien race who are incredibly prone to hiccup attacks.

Instead of securing their nervous system to not hiccup, their dumb genetics adapt to frequent bouts of hiccups by building thicker esophageal walls to handle acid reflux, their metabolism slows down during longer hiccup bouts to account for a lower intake of food, and they have a secondary respiratory system to make sure their blood is oxygenated enough to keep their organs working.

Culturally they develop a nonverbal language to use when hiccups are too fast to speak through. Everyone is taught it along with their verbal language.

In my mind, this alien race is also very fetish friendly. This is for no reason except it fits with my narrative.

I think of what it would be like for this species to work alongside other species like humans. Hiccups being so very common for them, they probably would think nothing of suddenly developing a case amongst others. But they learn quickly how different hiccups are seen across a variety of alien races and cultures.

Perhaps they learn to suppress the spasms to lessen the noise whereas they grew up not thinking anything of the sounds. Perhaps they learn quickly how difficult it is to communicate through their hiccups when no one else knows their nonverbal signs.

What would they think of someone who had a hiccup fetish? Would they be bemused by it? Or would it be borderline offensive?

And then I delve into greater specifics of questions I haven't thought enough about on my drive home from work to have answers for.

What does a secondary respiratory system look like? Gills, perhaps? Some openings that rush air into their lungs or circulatory system? Perhaps offering over oxygenated air to account for the lack of breath?

What would some of their cultural mythology look like surrounding hiccups and origin of them? Do hiccups signify anything beyond the physicality of them? Are there superstitions? Are there deities?

Do they have more than one word for "hiccups" in the same way natives living in snowy lands have more than one word for snow? Is there a word for fast hiccups? Slow hiccups? Hard hiccups? Loud hiccups? Silent hiccups?

Continuing with language, is there some sort of "blessing" they exchange with someone who has the hiccups? An acknowledgement and well-wish for them? Or is it such a normal occurrence that any exchange is a casual acknowledgement as opposed to something showing care or concern?

I could continue infinitum into more and more detailed specifics and subtleties, but I think you all might get the gist.

Feel free to continue the discussion or share anything inspired by this. And please feel free to steal the notion of an alien race prone to hiccups for your stories. I'd read the heck out of that!

[writingforfishes]

Hey-O, my first pr0n bot!

Under cut is a screenshot of a DM about having sex. But it's worded so badly it's not even worth the mature filter, in my opinion.

I feel like this is a milestone, honestly!

[writingforfishes]

Otto and Atticus: Tickled Hingk!

This is your fault. People have been talking about tickle hiccups on here and I couldn't resist.

CW:

Loud hiccups

Fast hiccups

Hiccups from tickling

Guilt from causing hiccups

Very small mention of nausea-related things

Strong sharp hiccups

Mild pain with hiccups

Teasing

Consent/safewords

Respecting bodily autonomy

Mention of arousal and orgasms without description

Grossly cute stuff

It all started innocently enough.

Atticus and Otto were cuddling on the couch, as was frequent on their do-nothing days.

Otto had been having small cases all day. They were light and their durations were short. Teasers really. No comment was made except for sly exchanges of looks and casual rubs to his belly and him bringing Atticus a bit closer wherever they were.

On the couch, Atticus brushed their fingers underneath his shirt trailing the tips of them along his ribs and he jerked.

The writer pulled back thinking perhaps they'd inadvertently hurt him.

"Ooh, hoo hoo!" Otto verbalized with a wiggle at the sensation.

"You okay?" Atty asked in concern.

"Yeah, yeah. You just...got me...in my tickle spot," Otto said. He said the words in a quick mumble as he cleared his throat and put his attention to the screen again, watching the baking show he loved, and Atticus tolerated.

Atticus paused and frowned, then realization hit their eyes as they grinned.

"Your...what?" they teased as they narrowed their eyes.

Otto pursed his lips and gave them a wide-eyed look then shook his head.

"N-nothing. I...nothing. It's...ah-haHA!" he had started to say until he felt Atticus' hands creep up his side again and tap across the spot just under his armpit and he felt himself laugh as Atticus teased him.

Atty's eyes opened in shocked joy.

"You. Ass. Do you remember when you started tickling me that one time and you were all like, 'Oh no. I'm Otto! I'm not ticklish! Ha! You can't tickle me!' and I relented because I believed you!?" Atticus exclaimed.

They'd tickled him once as an experiment and now waited for his rebuff.

Otto felt his body twitching at the sensation of Atticus' fingers, even though they were stilled. Play it cool, he told himself. He took a breath.

"I...may recall that," he said democratically. "But...I also may recall how you kicked me in the balls when I tickled you, so..."

Otto frowned. That fact may not end up playing in his favor. It was too late to reconsider now, though.

"I told you when you started that tickle fight that I kick when I'm tickled! Not my fault your scrotum got in the way of my very effective defense mechanism!" they argued.

"But...but...buuut..." Otto scrambled. This wasn't going well. "Uh...we're so comfortable. There's really no need..."

"I deserve this, Otto," Atty said.

"Yeah, but..." Otto floundered.

"I'm owed this opportunity of retribution," Atticus challenged.

"Okay okay-hay-hayyyy!" Otto squirmed as Atticus' fingers squirmed. "Ju-huust one...one thing."

"I'm listening," Atticus said.

"If I say, 'rutabaga' you stop?" Otto offered.

"You're safeword-ing a tickle-fight?" Atticus asked incredulously.

"I am and, to be fair, this is more like a tickle massacre so..." Otto said watching them owlishly.

Atty gave a couple of moments to realize Otto's request wasn't completely silly. In Atticus' desire for revenge, they might have temporarily lost sight of providing their partner with full bodily autonomy. They nodded.

"Okay," they agreed. And then they assaulted that tickling place with all of their might.

Otto's shrieks of laughter and expression was enough to make Atticus laugh as well as he squirmed and gasped but, dutifully, stayed put to serve his penance.

And, sure, the punishment might not have exactly equaled the crime. Atticus had in fact kicked Otto, though blindly, very effectively in the crotch and had felt extremely bad after the fact despite their ribs and chest being sore for ages after from his delighted onslaught of their ticklish body.

Otto's laughter had become wheezes as he curled in on himself. Tears ran down his face as he squealed and squeaked. Still, the man hadn't relented to even attempt to speak the word.

He gasped, "Hahaaa," and gasped, "Heheheheee," and gasped, "AaahheeheeHUCK'L!haah-HNGK!HINGK!ULK!-huh! HIC! You sto-HIP'K! I did-NGK! ev--even sa-HLNGK! HUP'K! Sh--it! HMK'L!ULK! Hiccups!"

Compared to the other couple of hiccup cases he'd had earlier, these were off the Richter scale. He hadn't even noticed at first because of the laughter. In the past tickling had made him feel queasy after a while. But he certainly hadn't gotten there yet.

As he struggled to catch his breath from laughing, he finally opened his eyes to Atty's face. Their eyes were wide, and a hand covered their mouth in shock.

"Dude...I'm so sorry. I didn't even think of that! That wasn't what I meant to do, I promise!" Atticus said as they shook their head.

"No HUNK'LP! it's HICK'P! okay. HIP'K!NK!HINGK!-Ugh, Gim--me a HNK-uh! sec--second!" he said as he held his hands out and pulled up into a better position so he could catch his breath.

It was exceedingly difficult to catch his breath with the hiccups, but he was able to calm down a little from the rush of being tickled while he sat with his hand around chest as loud, sharp hiccups erupted from him. Attics put a hand on his shoulder, and he smiled amid the attack.

"I'm fi-HIMP!-fine," he said and put his hand against his mouth as another cluster hit him and he sighed after. "Nev-HILMPK!-er got th-HIMPK! from MMK'M! being HMPK! tickled before. HAUK!...HUKKLE!...HEELMP! Jeez! MMMK!-uh!"

Atticus put a soft hand on his belly, rubbing it as they felt it pop hard through his shirt.

"Damn. You need to cure these? They seem really intense. I swear this wasn't part of the plan. I was just getting back at you for tickling me..." Atty said as guilt built up at how strong the spasms were and their role in creating them.

"I kn-HULMPK!-ow you d--idn't H'KUMP!HLMP!MK!-scuseme!" he said, having to say the pardon quickly so he wasn't interrupted with another hiccup. "But they-HUMPKA! here n--ow." He winced at another croaking stifled cluster. "We co-HUP'K! enj--joy them?"

"...really?" Atticus asked.

Otto nodded enthusiastically.

"They've be-IPK! teasing all HUPK! d--day. Might as ULMPK! well HUMPK! enj--oy them. They're HUP! strong an-NGK! fast MMK! the w--ay you HUCK!UCK! like!" Otto said as he put a hand over his partner's which still rested on his belly.

"Yeah...really fucking strong," Atticus confirmed in a bit of a daze before blinking themselves to the present despite the movement and squirming their body had already commenced at the stimulus. "Are you okay, though? Really? Do they hurt?"

"A li-HICK!-ttle," he admitted. Even though his stomach was popping a lot, these hiccups seemed chestier, causing the muscles around his sternum to be sore with every spasm. The laughter was a culprit as well, though. "Bu-HUP!, somet-MK! the best cu-HRMP!RMP!-ure is MMK! distra--ction. HULMPK! and--and an HOCK! orgasm!"

Atticus let out a guffaw and shook their head.

"I do not think I'll have any trouble with that," they stated primly.

Otto chuckled between the spasms. Then the hiccups started picking up again. They were nearly as fast as the ones he got when he held his breath. But they were hard and sharp. They made his head snap back into the cushions of the couch and caused him to moan and grunt. Though some of that could've been the arousal he felt.

As they pleasured themselves, and each other, the hiccups became strangled, gulpy, wet, like slaps from the inside of Otto's chest. Then they turned to doubles. Repetitive sounds Atticus rode on his stomach and felt on the sides of his chest.

When they were done, they both laid like rag dolls on top of each other on a couch which had seen its fair share of the couple's antics and was fortunately made sturdy enough to support them.

Otto still had the hiccups, but the time between each one had slowed down immensely. He could tell they were nearing an end, though they were still quite strong.

"HUH'NNNGK!-uh," his body forced out. Then he was allowed a couple of breaths before a surprising, "HUH'IIINGK!" barreled through.

It was like this for a while, at least a few minutes, as Atticus slid their hand in slow steady massaging paths along his chest and tummy.

"They're still so strong," Atticus said softly, their breath against his chest.

"Yeah," Otto agreed with another breath. "HIILNGK-uh. But they're a lot slower. Maybe not my fav-HM'MK!-favorite way to get them, but not the worst. HU'UUUCK!, ooh! Scuse me! Shit."

Atticus giggled a little at the loudness of the last hiccup.

"So, you never got them from laughing before this?" they asked curiously.

"Nuh-uh," he muttered. Then he shrugged. "When I was HU'MMK! was a kid, maybe. Laughing always ma-HU'UP! makes them worse! But tickling usually makes me nauseated hmmk'mmmk!-mmm, not hiccup," he said. He let out a small belch at the air that last one had rustled up from his stomach.

"...you know, you could've told me the reason you didn't want me to tickle you was that it made you want to throw up, right?" Atticus said putting a stern eye on their partner.

Otto whined a little.

"Well yeah, but...that was why I wanted a sa-mp!-safe word! And you look so cute when you're devious," he said with a grin.

"Ugh!" Atticus exclaimed and rotated onto their back making Otto grunt as they rearranged themselves on top of him. "No more tickling, then."

"None...at all?" Otto said with a pout.

Atticus gave him a confused look then sighed.

"Not without consent and boundaries," they decided.

Otto smiled.

"And maybe an orgasm or two," he added sheepishly.

"Conditionally on the state of one party's diaphragm," Atticus amended.

Otto nodded.

"Conditional orgasms, got it. Consent, boundaries, orgasms conditional of hiccups," he summarized. "Should I be writing this down or...haaaa!"

"Sorry, you were talking too much in the middle of my post orgasm nap," Atticus said retracting their fingers from the spot they now knew contained all of Otto's ticklishness.

"You'll have to file an addendum for tha---mmpf," Otto started to say until Atty's hand covered his mouth to smother anymore speaking.

"Shhhh," they said.

Atticus giggled at Otto licking their hand, but they didn't move it.

And they both continued to be gross and cute forever and ever.

[writingforfishes]

I imagine it would be neither.

Rather, I think a washing machine would eat the dirt from the clothes and occasionally swallow a sock accidentally.

Perhaps it would also eat the detergent along with the dirt. Sort of a...soda beverage substitute maybe?

If it were sentient and animated, it would take the clothes into its mouth like top or side opening and take a chug of detergent and suck the clothes of their dirt before disposing of them on a line or in a drying machine.

Maybe like sucking artichoke leaves of their meat or something?

[writingforfishes]

A plot is more: There are horrors, but vulnerability is love. Caretaking and understanding.

B plot is: Hiccups exist briefly as a result of horrors. Goofiness and dorkiness is also love.

Thank you for protecting yourself and not reading my sad, sad story about Otto trauma.

I'm ecstatic you appreciated my font joke!

Markets Otto and Atticus as cute little old queer couple, couple of silly bois, neurodivergent nerds, dapper doofuses with endearing social anxiety.

DUMPS ALL THE TRAUMA IN ONE FIC!!

Readers: But...whyyyy?!

Readers floating in shocked listlessness in a pond of their own salty tears.

Me: My darling beautiful fishes. It's quite simple.

I'm very fucked up.

[writingforfishes]

Markets Otto and Atticus as cute little old queer couple, couple of silly bois, neurodivergent nerds, dapper doofuses with endearing social anxiety.

DUMPS ALL THE TRAUMA IN ONE FIC!!

Readers: But...whyyyy?!

Readers floating in shocked listlessness in a pond of their own salty tears.

Me: My darling beautiful fishes. It's quite simple.

I'm very fucked up.

[writingforfishes]

Otto and Atticus: The Crash

Inspired by a prompt from @speech-bubble. An idea I've been floating in my head for months.

This is a complete self-service for my whumping hurt/comfort side. Please read the warnings.

CW:

More of a hurt/comfort whump fic than a hiccup fic

Parent death (mention of Otto's mom and dad in this topic)

Car accidents (fatal with injury)

Car accident scares (non-injury/near miss)

PTSD

Crying and sobbing

Breaking down

Emotional vulnerability

Mention of alcoholism

Panic attack mention

Mention of nearly falling off the wagon as it pertains to alcoholism

Hiccups from emotion/crying

Hard hiccups

Forceful hiccups

Deep mildly painful hiccups

Hiccups are cured

Atticus taking care of Otto

Otto feeling guilty for needing to be taken care of

Atticus deflecting their emotions

Two unhealthy people in a healthy relationship

Mark's inability to grow a mustache is funny

Emotional vulnerability is hard even when you feel safe

All the trauma

All the comfort

Some of the hiccups

It had not been a good day for either Otto or Atticus. It had all started when Atticus walked down in their sock-feet, sweatpants, and an A-line shirt to Otto standing in the kitchen gripping his coffee and looking off into the middle-distance toward the cabinets with a mildly distressed wide-eyed look.

The expression on his face, taut and emotional, reminded Atty of the week after Otto had been informed of Olivia, his mother, passing away of liver cancer. But in that instance the tall clock maker had curled on the floor of the kitchen, back against one of the lower cabinet drawers, his hands red and raw with having scrubbed every inch of the kitchen in an attempt to cope with the sudden confusing emotions he felt about her death.

That day there had been a bottle of scotch he’d discovered in his cleaning spree. He had intended on throwing it away but found the urge to imbibe so painfully great he couldn’t even handle the bottle and, instead, slid down to the floor in a panic until Atticus came home with groceries to find him.

It had been a very difficult couple of months. Atticus had poured the scotch out into the sink at Otto’s shaking behest with trembling hands and tossed the bottle as they’d ordered Otto to go to the couch if he could. There they comforted Otto as best they were able. They’d called Otto’s sponsor as he sobbed in their lap, panicking at the likelihood of him having caved to his urges to down the bottle of scotch if Atty hadn’t come home when they had.

The perishable groceries had spoiled in the cloth bags without being put in the refrigerator as Atticus ran their fingers through Otto’s sweat-soaked hair.

Otto had taken up going to meetings for a while after that experience. He got reclusive. He was terrified to be around any form of alcohol. But eventually, with his sponsor, Atticus, and the local AA group, he was able to find his mooring again.

So, as Atticus peered around at their partner’s face looking so similar to what it had that day, they felt their heart rate quicken in fear.

They checked his hands for the bright red marks of obsessive cleaning but found none. This did little to calm their worry as Otto still had not reacted to their presence, and they were nearly in front of him at this point.

Atticus had woken up earlier than normal. Perhaps if they’d continued to sleep until their normal wake-up time they wouldn’t have witnessed this emotional episode. Though it was uncomfortable, in hindsight they would be grateful they were there.

“Hey, bud...you okay?” they said softly, just loud enough to hear, but hopefully not too loud to startle.

Otto gave a little gasp, but it wasn’t a dramatic unsettling of his reverie. Instead, it was as if he was coming out of a dream of some sort. Or perhaps, more fittingly, a bad dream. He took a larger breath and frowned after spotting Atticus. He looked down in confusion trying to figure out how to answer the question. He was honestly not quite sure what the answer was.

“Um…” he said. He swallowed, his face still filled with confusion and a terse sort of sadness. He took another breath through his mouth, the air whistling a little on his dry lips. He turned the mug around in his long fingers while tightening his grip on it to feel the heat it still radiated despite having cooled down significantly since he’d poured it.

Otto continued, “I...I don’t really...uh,” he swallowed and cleared his throat shaking his head and blinking. He let a breath out through his nose.

“Take your time,” Atticus encouraged.

They edged closer to Otto as if coming up on a feral animal. They waited until Otto locked eyes with them again before offering a hand to his arm. When Otto didn’t lean away, they laid their hand on his shoulder and gave it a rub. To their relief Otto seemed to relax a little, though he gave a sniff and swallow, a shaky breath, and his brows lifted as if he could cry at any moment. He was obviously fighting the emotion.

“It doesn’t usually…” he paused and gave a mirthless laugh and another breath in before continuing, “It doesn’t usually hit me this hard. But um…” he sniffed and rubbed his nose with what seemed to be frustration as Atticus watched. “I, uh, I guess that close call on the interstate a few days ago sort of...maybe that has something to do with it?”

The close call was a car zagging straight into their lane as they both were on their way back from Margie and Cindy’s house. It was completely unexpected, and if Otto hadn’t evasively maneuvered when he had they would have both had injuries at the least. The worst was something Atticus didn’t want to think about.

Otto had been so shaken up that Atticus had offered to drive home. Thankfully they were driving the automatic car and not Otto’s manual. Though Atty experienced driving anxiety, Otto was in no condition to drive. Neither one of them discovered what came of the swerving car. It continued on miraculously not causing any further incident. The important thing was they both made it home safely.

“This...is about that?” Atticus hazarded a guess as they still rubbed his arm in a way they hoped was comforting.

“Um...no, but…” Otto shook his head and huffed, eyes rolling in further annoyance at himself. He felt tears prickling at his eyes and he was trying desperately not to give into the urge to cry. He knew, though, once he started explaining himself, he would have no control over it. He might not have any control over it either way with the dull ache he felt building up in his chest.

“Sweetie, there is no expectation from me on knowing what this is about,” Atticus said. “But if there’s something I can do to help…”

Otto looked at his partner with fondness. Of course, Atticus wouldn’t expect him to be vulnerable if he didn’t want to. They wouldn’t put that pressure on him. It was sweet but with the safety he felt with his partner, there was no need to fear vulnerability. He just didn’t want to cry. It was messy and a hassle to cry. And he knew this particular dam would break in a particularly violent way. He didn’t want to lay that weight on Atticus, not after all they had already seen of him similarly distressed. But he also desperately didn’t want to deal with this alone and knew Atty would smack him if they knew he was trying to protect them from his emotional outburst.

It was a double-edged sword to have a partner with a high emotional IQ who’d been raised by a mother who was a social worker.

“It’s...uh…” he started and felt his throat rebel against the words. He shook his head stubbornly and cleared his throat in annoyance. “Today is the anniversary of...my dad...of my dad’s death.”

Recognition gleaned in Atticus’ eyes. They hadn’t known the exact date it had happened, but Otto had told them enough about the occurrence, so they recognized the significance and the connection to their close call on the interstate.

Otto had been 8 years old when his dad had been driving him and his two siblings to a rehab facility his mother was being released from. Otto had fought with his older sister to take the passenger seat and won. As a result, he’d had a front row seat of the accident that ended his dad’s life and sent Otto and his siblings to the hospital. The last thing Otto remembered was seeing his dad covered in blood, unresponsive.

A drunk driver had swerved in front of them and his dad wasn’t able to stop the car in time. They crashed into the truck and the cars behind them crashed into the back of the car. The airbag on his dad’s side had failed. The airbag on Otto’s side had caused whiplash in addition to a concussion and he’s sustained broken ribs from the seat belt.

It was traumatic in every sense and changed the entire landscape of Otto’s life. In the current moment his eyes had closed, and his mouth had turned into itself as a thin line trembling to keep his composure.

“Hey,” Atticus said softly as they rubbed his chest underneath an arm still attached to the mug he was clutching in his hands.

Otto opened his eyes, the lump in his throat so large he didn’t even try to speak around it. He could feel the tears building on his lower lids and his body jerked in muffled sobs.

“I’m sorry,” he finally managed as a whisper.

“No reason to be sorry,” Atticus assured him. “I just want to know how to best help. I’m going to give you a couple of options, okay?”

Otto sniffed and nodded, trembling a little.

“Okay. One, you can go upstairs and be alone for a while. You don’t need to worry about hurting my feelings. I totally get it if you need to be alone. If you want, I can check on you. Bring you some water and tissues. Alright, but the second option is that I can stay with you. You can lay on my lap on the couch and do whatever you need to do. And I can just...be with you. Listen if you need to talk. I can offer physical touch...or not. It’s up to you,” they said.

Atticus watched as Otto took in a shaky breath, squinted eyes brimming with moisture, and a flushed redness blossoming on his face.

“The...second one!” Otto sputtered, sniffing as he quivered and frowned with tears starting to break the barriers of his lids and slide down his cheeks. “I’m sorry...I don’t wa—”

“I offered. You have nothing to be sorry for. Lemme get a box of tissues and a glass of water, okay?” Atticus said taking their small hand to the scruff of his jawline and touching the moisture there as Otto nodded succumbing to the soreness of the emotional release he was finally allowing to happen.

Atticus held their hand around Otto’s body to his chest when they were both situated. Otto was on his side faced away from Atticus instead of his back, like he usually was. The pillow on Atty’s lap was already becoming wet with his tears as his cheek pushed against it. The feeling of their hand against his chest was both comforting and triggering. He held a hand against theirs to keep it there, though. It felt painful and safe.

Soon, to the sensation of Atticus raking their fingers through his hair and on his scalp with their other hand, Otto finally let the rubber band snap in his chest. He found himself gasping and sobbing until his chest hurt with the exertion of the shallow breaths. He would gasp again, embarrassingly loud, and audibly let out the soft wails his body forced from his lungs through his vocal cords.

It wasn’t necessarily memories he was reliving, but emotions. He wasn’t experiencing flashbacks but, rather, the sensations of helplessness, loss of control, and grief. For a moment he was an 8-year-old boy in the hospital learning his dad had died all over again. Gasp after gasp brought a new emotion back into his body and mind to be relived. He missed his dad so much.

“It’s. Not. Fair!” he felt himself saying. The words weren’t a completely conscious act but burst out of him in a primal way. The words were spat similarly to a cat wailing out in fear or a dog growling and then whimpering.

Atticus felt Otto’s heart race and his chest rise and fall rapidly at his outburst. The arm he’d tucked down on their arm holding their hand to his chest was hot and the writer could feel the wetness of sweat from his armpit from the exertion of his sobs. They did their best to rub his chest from the awkward angle.

“It’s not,” Atticus agreed softly to Otto’s yell.

“If he...if he hadn’t died maybe...maybe I wouldn’t have...fucked up as much as I did. Been so stupid. Why did he have to die?” he whined.

Atticus leaned down toward him and put their head on top of his. Again, the heat of his emotion radiated from him as if he were a furnace. They didn’t care, though. They curled themselves over his body protectively and put their cheek against his hair after kissing him there.

“I dunno, sweet boy,” they said. “I don’t think there’s a reason to things like this. They just happen. And we just have to live through it the best we can.”

“It’s not fair…” he reiterated. This time it was softer, though. It was broken and thin. He gasped after it and then again before another round of crying hit him and he caved at the unsteady breathing and sobs.

“No, it really isn’t fair,” the writer said into his ear. “You didn’t deserve it. No one deserved it. You’re worth so much more than to have to feel this way. But I’m here and I will never let you go, and I will do my best to keep you safe, okay?”

Otto gasped in a couple more times in involuntary sobbing.

“Do you promise?” he managed in a whisper.

Atticus looked at his bright red flushed face marked with veins popping out on his forehead with their head so close to his and snuggled in a little deeper.

“I promise. I absolutely promise,” they replied emphatically.

Otto panted at the statement and was finally able to get some longer breaths into his crying jag.

“I think,” he said and sniffed finally having the mind to pull a tissue from the box on the coffee table in front of him and rub it over his nose and face. “I think I know why I feel so...so safe when you have your...hand on my chest.”

“Oh?” Atty asked.

“Mm,” Otto nodded against the pillow under his head. “The...last thing I remember...in-in the accident was…” he took a breath, “was my dad putting his hand across my chest to...to protect me.” He sniffed again, feeling more tears coming up at the sudden memory becoming sharper. “So...when your hand is there, I feel...safe…”

The last of his words came out in a whine again and he felt Atticus’ arm tighten around his chest.

“Oh, you sweet man,” Atty mumbled as they pressed their hand deeper into his sternum.

The huff Otto gave could’ve been a laugh or an expression of some other emotion. Otto would be hard pressed to define it, just that the action made him feel less tension than before.

After a while the clock maker finally was able to start to control his breathing again. The urge to contract and release sobs was ebbing. It was unfortunately suddenly replaced by…

“Hnk’uh! Oh! Ngk’l! Uh!” Each of Otto’s hiccups popped his stomach out forcefully and he made and airy chuckle through them. He hadn’t had the hiccups from crying since he was a kid, at least from what he recalled.

The hiccups were deep and forceful. They were nearly soundless except for the suction in his throat. They were double syllable, the sucking in and out of his stomach in time with the sensation and small sound they made. Instead of coming in clusters they were consistently spaced, slightly fast but slower than his clusters.

Atticus could feel the liquid in Otto’s belly sloshing with each spasm, stronger than they’d ever felt his hiccups before. At the first hiccup Atticus had startled but now they trailed their hand down to his stomach to hopefully offer some comfort. They quashed the arousal they felt at first very quickly, feeling a little ill at having felt it at all.

“You okay?” Atty asked in concern. By this time Otto had seemed to calm down except for his diaphragm. The way his body jerked around each second to half second was endearing but Atticus hoped it wasn’t as painful as it felt or sounded.

“Yeah,” he said and swallowed after another hiccup. He took a moment to blow his nose before he continued. “Haven’t ngk’kuh!had th—e hiccups l—kuh!-like this af—ter crying in a lo—long time.”

Otto made a sound more like laughter than before and rolled his eyes as he rubbed the tissue underneath them in bemused disbelief at the silliness of what he saw as a throwback from his youth.

Atticus had leaned back up and was carding their fingers through his hair again. The dampness had curled and frizzed it and they trailed their hands through the ringlets it had formed.

“Do you need to cure them? They feel pretty violent,” Atticus said as they rubbed his jerking tummy again.

Otto smiled but shook his head against the pillow.

“No,” he said, body flinching again with another spasm. “I ju—ust want you t—to keep hold-ngk’l!-holding me fo—or a little wh—while, if—if that’s okay?”

“Yeah. That’s okay,” Atticus confirmed.

Otto sighed, hiccup in between, in relief.

“How do you feel otherwise?” Atticus asked as the hand previously rubbing his scalp made it way to massaging his neck as his head was thrown by the continued side effect of his emotional release.

“Okay,” he said. He paused to let another hiccup happen with a grunt. “Tired.” His stomach punched again. “Feel a little si—illy. Guilty about y—ungk!-uh! you having t—to see me...ng’kuh!...freak out...ag—again!”

Otto felt a sharp ping of pain hit his ear as Atticus flicked it.

“Ow!” he exclaimed.

“Sorry! Force of habit,” Atty said, half sincerely. “We take care of each other Otto. You have been the level-headed one in this relationship way more times than me. Not that we should even be keeping track of that, but...suffice to say I am really very okay with being able to be present for you like this, okay? And...I’m glad I can be. Because...because for all the ways you think you fucked up in life, and maybe you genuinely did, you didn’t fuck up with me. And you can’t fuck up with me. I won’t let you.”

Otto swallowed down another wave of emotion, his body jerking into Atticus again. He grunted and put the tissue against his eyes again.

“That’s very swe—eet,” he said as an understatement and then, more lighthearted, “and a little om—minous…”

Otto heard Atticus snort a laugh above him and he turned his head back to look at them.

“Hi,” Atty said, finally seeing his face for the first time since he laid down facing away from them.

“Hi,” Otto said back, his chest caving in as his belly popped with another silent hiccup.

“Your face is all red,” Atticus noted. They traced the blotched patches across his forehead and down his cheeks with their finger.

Otto turned fully on his back and flinched as another hiccup hit him.

“Yeah?” he asked. He hiccuped again with a grunt.

Atticus nodded and placed their hand from his stomach to his chest, noting the way it pulled in sharply and the expression on his face as it did. Otto’s hand automatically covered Atty’s and now that the writer was aware the significance of the subconscious act they felt a swell in their chest at the symbolism. But they winced in unison as the hiccups kept hitting their partner so violently.

“These have got to hurt a little. I’ve never seen them so hard before,” they finally said.

Otto sighed.

“They act—tually do,” he relented. He hadn’t wanted to tell them the sharp pain each spasm was causing below his ribs. It seemed remarkably unfair to have the hiccups this badly after such an exhausting cathartic release filled with grief and emotional pain.

He so rarely had pain with his hiccups, so it was doubly frustrating to experience it now.

Atticus patted his chest a couple of times with the decision to cure them and Otto, for his part, wasn’t particularly resistant to the plan. After a couple of shots of apple cider vinegar and a full glass of water to rehydrate the clock maker, the couple made their way back to the couch to continue their cuddling.

“I do feel better,” Otto said as he only half-watched the documentary Atticus had pulled up on Netflix.

“Yeah?” Atty said, hopefully.

Otto nodded and pulled the writer in closer.

“I still feel sad,” he said as he took a breath. “But I’m really really glad I found you.”

“Well...technically Mark found me. But...I get what you’re saying. And, honestly, giving him credit for us is just...making his head way bigger than it needs to be. Dude’s already basically a model with a beautiful wife and two gorgeous children. Maybe let’s not make him the hero of our love story, huh?” Atticus said deflecting the compliment Otto had given them.

Otto just laughed and kissed their forehead.

“Deal. But, yeah, it is kind of irritating how handsome he is, isn’t it?” Otto said, falling into the comfortable banter.

“It’s just rude,” Atty confirmed.

“Well, at least you can grow a mustache. So, you have that over him,” Otto encouraged.

“True. That,” Atticus said. They preened said mustache with their fingers with a grin. “Take that, Mark! My upper lip follicles are far superior to yours!”

Otto laughed, holding a hand under his ribs as the action revived the soreness from his hiccups.

“You’re so weird!” he said affectionately with a chuckle.

“Yeah...you wouldn’t want it any other way, bud!” Atticus said, still grinning.

“I really wouldn’t,” Otto agreed as Atticus’ head leaned against his chest and he wrapped his arm around them.

[writingforfishes]

Reiterating how real this is.

I often wonder if I'm writing Otto's hiccups way too fast. Like, because then I have to figure in how fast he speaks and that messes with the math, too.

But I just try to remember cases I've witnessed through videos and audios and try to sort of match the speed up to how fast I want his.

I also can't control how someone else hears what I write. So, they might hear his speech pattern, hiccup sounds, speed way differently than I first imagined.

In fact, sometimes I'll read back what I read and I, myself, will hear it differently than I wrote it the first time.

I suppose what we write is, more than most other fictional writings, dependent on how it is read more than how it's written.

status: staring at a draft, wondering how IRL hics-per-minute translate into hics per sentence. I love-hate when math creeps into my process™ .

[writingforfishes]

What about a hiccupy character who's usually NOT clumsy but turns a bit clumsy when they hiccup?

Like someone who is usually very deft at fine details but when they have the hiccups, they get them so strongly it makes it impossible for them to achieve the accuracy they often have.

Or someone who is usually very aware of the space they take up as they're tall and gangly but sometimes their hiccups can affect their body/focus and they accidentally get in someone's way or bump into someone and they're having to apologize for it.

A hiccuppy character is good, love those

A hiccuppy character who's clumsy too ough aough aaaaaa!!!!!!

[writingforfishes]

It's so funny how hiccup themes sort of coincide. I was already planning on writing something here about spicy hiccups and got on the feed and there it was, already in discussion!

Anyway, had thought it would be fun to write Otto doing either a formal or informal spice tolerance challenge with Mark and Margie. For some reason I get the impression Otto is actually a big fan of spice. And I also have a sense it's probably one of the things that DOESN'T give him hiccups. At least not immediately.

I think he'd totally be down to try and outlast spicy foods with his friends as Cindy, Alice, and Atticus all sit there and shake their heads, eyes rolling.

Mark, I think, would definitely get the hiccups from spicy food. Like...immediately. Margie is a beast. She'd win. But Otto would put up a hell of a fight.

The aftermath would be intensely uncomfortable in that adorable but exhaustingly hilarious sort of way. Atticus could feel zero pity as Otto has to double his intake of antacids and groans and moans when he gets home.

But then he'll get a pretty bad case of hiccups either in the middle of the night or the next morning and damn will that leave Atty feeling very...stimulated and interested in the whole challenge. But not enough to encourage him to do it again because he really would suffer quite a bit with the aftereffects.

Anyway. Just sitting here continuing to torture Otto in my mind. Don't mind me...

[writingforfishes]

I WISH I COULD'VE TOLD YOU BEFOREHAND!!!

The worst is that it doesn't only hurt going in and that is SO unfair!

I have never succeeded in inducing intentionally with spice. I have tried...so many variations. After being diagnosed with IBS and GERD we are not going to be attempting that ever again! (Though I do adore spicy food and do still eat some spice at times.)

The things I've induced with in the past have been (unplanned, btw): ice cream, sparkling water, and sparkling alcohol.

Ice cream and sparkling water have abandoned me when purposely trying to induce. And I no longer trust myself with drinking enough sparkling alcohol (Blanc De Blanc, if you were wondering) to induce. It's just not worth it, honestly.

Spice has led to hiccups in the past, but never purposely and it's never worth it for the amount I force them away as it's usually around other people.

I've recently been getting some frustratingly enthusiastic teaser hiccups when I eat my chicken noodle soup and drink my sparkling white tea with pomegranate juice beverage. But not one case.

Listen to me TRUST you will not induce off of the spicy whatever, it'll hurt so bad it'll suck and hurt so bad and it'll suck LOSTEN HELP HELP ME NOT ONLY WILL YOU DIE ITLL HIRT THE WHOLE TIME YOURE DYING

[writingforfishes]

Superheroes/Superhumans and Hiccups

The hiccup hyperfixation is STRONG today, so congratulations to everyone who gets to see all my rambling. /s

As I was looking up a character from DC someone posted on my feed, I had really curious thought about superhumans/mutants with specific biological abilities/conditions. (Not my nonbinary ass literally unable to write a sentence without trying to find the most general way to say something without indicating its quality level.)

It made me consider individuals with elastic abilities and what those abilities would do (if anything) if one of those people had the hiccups. I would assume elastic abilities (stretching abilities...whatever you want to call them) would make hiccuping exaggerated.

Would it make hiccups harder or easier to induce/get rid of if one's body was able to stretch past the point of the average person? I know that one of the unfortunate symptoms of EDS is anecdotally having hiccups more often and those hiccups being painful. But if a stretching ability (and dislocating ability) didn't come with pain/instability, would that person still experience a prone-ness to hiccuping?

I suppose one of the things EDS does is create instability which might trigger hiccups. Someone with stretching abilities not hindering their body's stability might, in turn, not have any additional vulnerability to getting hiccups unless they were careless, I suppose. I haven't thought about the details of what would create stretchiness and what it would incorporate in the body (do bones stretch too?).

I read a fiction once about T0ny St@rk getting painful hiccups because of the location of the arc reactor in his chest. I thought this was an interesting concept, though ultimately flawed in anatomy. If the arc reactor created pain during hiccups, we can also assume it arrested his ability to breathe properly which would have been ultimately ineffectual at giving him a healthy life as his heart would be compromised by the reduction in oxygen intake.

In my limited anatomical knowledge, it wouldn't make sense for a hiccup to hurt because there was a device in your chest as a hiccup is just as deep as one would be able to breath inward. But I could be wrong, and it defeats the purpose of a good hurt/comfort story! Anyway!

(Caveat to say if you have EDS your bone structure connections are insecure, and a hiccup CAN cause pain because your soft tissue is being stretched further than it should and possibly dislocating or straining ligaments holding your bones together, but a structure in your chest which is static and exists pain-free while breathing normally shouldn't create pain when you hiccup...in my, again, limited and too literal opinion...)

I've strayed so much from my original thought. Are you still reading? Goodness, why?

At any rate, meta-human/mutant/superhuman beings and their presentation of hiccups or possible proneness to hiccups fascinate me in theory. Perhaps I'll explore this at some point. I like the idea of marrying a "super ability" with the annoyance of a side effect like hiccup proneness and then watching the individual find a person who doesn't mind that at all...not at all...