help i forgot to rb w this THANK U VERY HELPFUL GUYS đđđ (jk ily thanks for voting)
argh ok I'm going to word vomit my thoughts on starting coms rn
pros are that it would be a START I've wanted to have art as more than just a hobby for years now !!! and this would be a step!!!
cons are my schedule and also health are p unreliable rn so I do worry about taking on commitments like that
but on the other hand I'm also so SICK of putting everything especially art on pause for the way my life is currently???
i keep telling myself I need to be more active on here so that if and when I do start coms I'll actually be able to show my work to a wider audience but also I'm so . burnt out I thinkđđđ???????? but also not???? idk I'm in such a weird phase rn!!!!!!!
if you guys have suggestions or like r going thru it similarly pls drop a message I will hold ur hand in the tumblr reply
this cannot be my most popular post guys this is like. basic snzblr fact. this is the equivalent of me saying "women...Sneezing." and the crowd going wild
This is a fic for the anime/manga W/itch H/at A/telier, which is a delightful series that everyone should check out. It's even got this cute little creature called a brushbuddy, who this fic is about!
Other guys relevant to this fic include pov character Olruggio and his best friend/forever crush Qifrey, who he lives with while Qifrey is also training four young witches as his apprentices. This fic is set directly after episode 6 of the anime.
@darlingsnz gets a kudos from me for their post of headcanons for both O and Q that kicked my ass into gear and got me to write something -- thank you for your service!!
Without further ado, here we go! (1.8k)
---
It first came to his attention soon after he discovered that Qifrey, damn the man, had acquired a new apprentice.
She'd snuck into his tower in pursuit of the brushbuddy (apparently the girls had a pet now) and had ended up charming him in a way that he was loathe to admit, although any remaining sense he'd had about turning her in to the Knights Moralis was sure quashed by the way her eyes lit up when she saw the Glowstone Path.
"You're getting soft, Olruggio," he said aloud to himself as he climbed back to his work station. His nose was itching, and he thumbed at it briefly with a dragging sniff. "Letting her run rough-shod over you like that."
He was still grumbling as he went back to his work, a particularly fiddly contraption he was putting together with the Silver Eve procession in mind. He had already been growing tired before the interruption by Coco, having gotten precious little sleep over the past few days while he'd been working abroad and traveling, but now he found himself distracted too. His nose continued to tickle, no matter how much he swiped at it with the heel of his hand or the knob of his wrist, and after a few minutes of it he found himself teetering on the edge of a sneeze.
It was a relief when it finally crossed that invisible line, and he pushed back from his desk to catch the sneeze in the crook of his elbow. "hh'USHhoo!"
He froze there for a moment, waiting to see if a second was coming. When the sensation began to fade, he resurfaced, sniffling and blinking watering eyes.
If it had just been the single sneeze, he wouldn't have thought much of it, but several of them came upon him in the same manner over the next few hours, which was unusual enough outside of hayfever season that it gave him pause.
Maybe he was getting a cold. He'd just go to bed early (-er than usual) and hope he could sleep it off.
When the morning came and he felt fine again, he assumed that was what had happened. He'd been lucky, for once. Maybe he should start doing this (sleeping) more often.
He even went down to have a late breakfast with Qifrey and the girls, who he could hear chattering in the main room as he made his way over from his tower. Qifrey was working with Coco and Tetia on peeling some vegetables for a stew that Agott was poring over on the stove, while Richeh set about measuring out spices. The brushbuddy poked its head up from Richeh's shoulder when Olruggio entered the room and gave a cheerful "Pwee!~" in greeting, as if it was still appreciative of him drying it off the night before.
"Olly!" Qifrey said cheerfully. "Fancy seeing you up and about before noon."
"Yeah, yeah." Olruggio went over to dish up some of the sliced fruits left on the counter from the girls' breakfasts. "Got things to do, ya know."
The rest of the morning passed in quiet contentment, with the girls studying in their own workspaces and Qifrey puttering around collecting and setting herbs to dry in the kitchen. After Olruggio finished his breakfast, he decided to also bring his in-progress contraption down to the main room. He generally preferred to do his work in solitude, but Qifrey wasn't bothersome, and in fact Olruggio found that he did tend to get more work done when he was around. Something about the quiet familiarity of occupying the same space as Qifrey put him in the proper creative mindset.
However, after a few hours of work, he returned to the main room from a break to find that the brushbuddy had curled up on his draft signs, drawn no doubt to the drying conjuring ink. It was definitely cute, Olruggio thought as he approached the furry white creature curled into a cozy spiral, but it was still in the way.
"Go on now, get," he said gently, reaching out to nudge the brushbuddy with the back of his hand when it opened a sluggish eye. "Go find one of the girls."
It uncurled with a grumbly squeak and hopped from the table, then rippled across the floor towards Tetia and Richeh's rooms, where it knew it would be more welcome. Olruggio brushed some stray fur from his papers and got back to work.
Unfortunately his productivity was doomed to stay fractured, because a few minutes later, his nose began to itch again. It started as a tingle in the very tip, but as he sniffled and scrubbed at his nose with his finger with little luck, the tickle grew and spread until his sinuses were buzzing with it.
Finally, his nose had had enough, and he leaned away from his work to sneeze heavily towards his shoulder, elbow half-raised in anticipation. "hrUSHHhoo!"
But this one required a follow-up, he realized quickly, and he snapped towards his shoulder once more. "USHHieu!"
"Bless you!" Qifrey called from the kitchen.
Olruggio ignored him; Qifrey always seemed to find great pleasure in blessing him when he sneezed, but he knew better than to expect a response from Olruggio in return. But, frustratingly, it wasn't more than five minutes later when he had to sneeze again. He squeezed his eyes shut and brought his elbow to his face again expectantly.
"USHieu!"
"Bless you!"
"hih? â hh'USHieuhh!"
"âŠBless you. Are you all right, Olly?"
Olruggio looked up, sniffling wetly, to see Qifrey poking his head around the doorjamb from the kitchen, a half-stripped bundle of sage in his hands.
"I feel fine," Olruggio protested, though a third sneeze had begun to creep up from the back of his thickening sinuses, and he knew he was going to require a handkerchief soon. "Just this blasted sneezing."
"Perhaps you're catching cold?" Qifrey offered with no absence of concern. "You have been traveling a lot lately and wearing yourself down."
"And have another trip coming up this evening," Olruggio said with an irritated cough. His throat did feel a bit off too, though it was more itchy than sore. It felt almost like the way he reacted to grass pollen, though it was the wrong season for it. He wasn't sure quite what was going on.
"I'm sure they'll understand if you can't make it," Qifrey said, though they both knew that wasn't necessarily true. Some of Olruggio's clients could be quite demanding.
Olruggio shrugged. "I'll be all right, no need to worry about me."
The symptoms persisted throughout the early afternoon, until he gave up on working and retreated to his tower to bathe. The steam and humid air helped clear the congestion that had begun to set in, and after he emerged and began to dress for his trip, he found he felt almost normal again.
A bit odd, but he wasn't going to complain about it.
And in a way that continued to be odd, his symptoms completely dissipated over the next few days while he worked with some townspeople in a village to the west. Perhaps it had just been a small cold and he'd gotten over it, he thought, mildly perplexed.
But then, to his consternation, they began again as soon as he returned to the atelier. He was chatting with the girls and Qifrey in the kitchen when the brushbuddy scaled him until it could perch happily on his shoulder, fluffed up and preening as it welcomed him home.
The urge to sneeze swept upon him like a gust of wind, and he took a hurried step back from Qifrey and leaned away for an itchy, irritated sneeze into his elbow. "hrr'USHoo!"
The brushbuddy squealed and clung more tightly to his shoulder with its little black feet, but a second, harsher sneeze dislodged it and sent it skittering across the floor to Coco, who scooped it into her arms, wide-eyed.
"Bless you!" She said, echoed by Agott and Tetia. Qifrey, oddly enough, said nothing at first. It wasn't until Olruggio had found a handkerchief to blow his suddenly running nose that he spoke up.
"Have you considered that you might be allergic to the brushbuddy, Olruggio?" He asked mildly. Tetia looked dismayed, and Coco looked down at the fluffy creature in her arms. "You said you weren't sneezing at all while you were away, and it started back up as soon as you came home."
Olruggio sniffled wetly. "It has been years since I've been around them," he admitted. "And I can't say I've ever lived with one before. It's possible."
"This is horrible!" Tetia cried. "Poor Master Olly!"
"Do we need toâŠget rid of it?" Coco asked in a tiny voice, her eyes wide as the brushbuddy tried to curl into the smallest ball possible, keening quietly.
"I can manage," Olruggio began to say at the same time as Qifrey said, "There is a medicine that should help with it. It's what you already take in the summer, for the grass pollen."
Ah yes. It tasted foul unless it was in the form of a tea heavily sweetened with honey, and Olruggio was rubbish at remembering to take it, but maybeâŠ
He shrugged. "I can do that. There's no need to get rid of the creature."
"We can make sure to sweep up more often," Agott said quickly. Olruggio was briefly charmed; he hadn't thought that the girl had cared much for the brushbuddy. Perhaps she was speaking more out of concern for her friends than out of her own love for the beast. "We'll make sure the main rooms stay clear of fur."
The brushbuddy had wriggled up onto Coco's shoulder, where it was half-hidden in her hair, but when Olruggio locked eyes with it, it gave a soft "pweeee" that sounded almost apologetic. He rubbed the back of his neck, abashed.
"It'll be fine, girls," he said, and sniffled.
And it was, overall. Taking the tonic, he would occasionally get sniffly or sneeze a few times if the brushbuddy made its way into his tower â apologetic or not, it did seem to be particularly fond of his writing materials, and once or twice his bed â but the girls held up their end of the deal, and they all benefitted from having a stricter cleaning schedule in the atelier.
"They would have been quite sad, if they'd had to get rid of the brushbuddy," Qifrey said one day to Olruggio as they were washing up. Olruggio had sneezed as soon as he'd entered the kitchen â the cooking spices in the air, as like as not â and Qifrey had blessed him merrily as usual. "Thank you."
"And break their hearts?" Olruggio scoffed. "Please. I didn't want apprentices of my own, but that doesn't mean I'm a monster."
Qifrey huffed a laugh, and Olruggio looked over to see the other man smiling fondly at him. "No, my friend. No, you are not."
Quifrey catching an awfully messy cold and trying to hide it because he doesn't want it to spread... but Olly catching said cold while taking care of sick Quifrey đ«Ș
⊠hiiii !!!!! anon!!!!!! i want u to know that this hasnt left my brain from the moment you sent it. this is the first thing ive finished in so long. i wish it was longer and had more snz, but im so rusty T_T pls enjoy!!!!
Qifrey knows Olruggio. Knows almost everything, after years of being together, his tells and behaviors, and he loves it, aside from when it goes the other way around. Olruggio isn't easily decieved by him, no matter what he tries. Qifrey can tell from the sideways look he gets at breakfast while heâs resisting the urge to cradle his head in his hands.Â
He had woken up late after turning in early, exhaustion seemingly triggered by the rain that had been pelting the atelier for a few days now, making his head throb. Upon waking up that morning, he realized it was only actually accentuating an existing pain, starting under his eyes and working its way into his temples. He had scrambled up to find the girls already awake, and came up with some flimsy excuse that none of them bought. It's his own fault for having such smart apprentices, but he would appreciate it if they gave him some slack.Â
As is his usual luck, it's one of the few days Olruggio is awake before noon. While Qifrey struggles not to slump against the wall of their kitchen as his apprentices eat their breakfast in the other room, easily entertained by their own ideas, thank goodness, because Qifreyâs throat feels thick and the vibration of his own voice echoes through his head in sharp pains, Olruggio staggers downstairs and into the room, likely in search of coffee. His hair is mussed, and he's still blinking away sleep, but when his eyes lock with Qifreyâs they hesitate for a moment too long.Â
Qifrey tries to smile, but it makes Olruggioâs brows furrow, so he just turns away to gently wipe his nose against his wrist. Heâs been caught like always. Itâd be easier to hold up the facade if Olruggio didnât wear his heart on his sleeve, because he just feels guilty lying to him. He sighs with defeat when Olruggio leans against the counter and levels him with a stern look.Â
âYou look awful.â Olruggio says, voice still rough. Qifrey sniffles again, nose irritated by the steam wafting off the bowls of oatmeal in front of him, feeling all too much like he's advertising his symptoms. âIâm quite alright.â He says, and his voice is just as congested as he feared it would be. How embarrassing he is. âJust a cold.âÂ
Olruggio huffs, leaning over to gruffly force a hand against Qifreyâs forehead that he's a bit too unsteady to dodge. âJusâ a cold.â He murmurs. âYouâre awfully warm for that.â Qifrey smiles again, suddenly finding his nose itchy. He pushes olruggioâs hand away, not unkindly, and steps back a bit to create space, waving a halfhearted hand in front of his face. âNot at all,â He canât help the wince that comes across his face, the feeling aggravating both his sinusâ and his headache. âIâm merely warm from bearing near the stove. Iâm in a fine state to-â has to pause to press a knuckle against his nose, which ends up having the opposite effect. The itch crescendos, so he has to whip around in an attempt to protect Olruggio from the worst of his symptoms.
â âchT-!" he has to pause for a moment, curled over into his wrist, until his vision returns from static and he can feel anything but the thundering pulsing of his own skull. After a few deep breaths, he manages to straighten up and almost-look Olruggio in the eye. He looks annoyed, but not in the way he does when dealing with frustrating clients or mental blocks. He looks, frustrated, almost, closer to when their girls stubbornly refuse rest, or even Qifrey, sometimes. It's not a look he likes very much when it's placed onto himself.Â
âGo to bed.â Never one to mince his words, Olruggio tells him flat out. âYouâre going to fall over.â Qifrey was perfectly able to come to that conclusion himself, because there is still grey towards the corners of his vision, and his legs are starting to get suspiciously shaky. It's not something his lovely Olruggio should be seeing, though. Having his own weakness thrown back at him sparks an age-old defensiveness every time, like a cat backed into a corner. He sort of wants to snarl.Â
âThe girls need a master present.â He grits out instead between clenched teeth. Olurggio sighs, looking worn already, drags a hand down his face. âIâll watch âem. Iâm basically their master already.â He makes a shoo-ing motion. âGo off to bed before they start worryinâ.â It's a bit lowbrow to bring them into this, but Qifrey canât argue it, no matter how much his skin is prickling with desire to fight back. He sniffles against the back of his hand again instead of replying, starting to stumble his way upstairs to his chambers. Olruggioâs shoulders are tense as he passes, and his eyes look even more tired than normal, even though he doesnât have any upcoming deadlines that heâs heard about. Not that he's been a good listener these past few days.
âąâąââââ đ€ âââââąâą
His room is dark when he wakes up. Intentionally, surely, because he had been too tired to bother closing his own blinds when he collapsed against his bed, had fallen asleep with his head buried into the pillow to try to drown the light out. Thereâs only one person that would be in here, so he squints against the dark shapes, ignoring the way it makes him ache, and can vaguely make out a dark robe.Â
Olruggio must be focused, or else he wouldâve noticed. Qifrey takes his time getting up, for no reason relating to the way the world spins and heady pressure shifts in his face, tries to study Olruggio. There's the faint scratching of a quill, and Oruggio's posture seems stiffer than usual, like he's focused. Once Olruggio sniffles a few times, unconsciously, because his nose has started running since he lifted his head up, Olruggio looks up at him.
âMorninâ.â He says, voice soft like he knows. âWant a light on?â Qifrey feels his face pull into a frown. âWhy not just open the blinds? Natural light is always better.â According to Beldaruit, anyway, who liked to preach on the importance of nature at random turns. Olruggio opens his mouth, then shakes his head like heâs thinking better of something. âItâs the middle of the night, Qifrey.â Is all he says, quill taping an anxious rhythm against his paper.Â
Qifrey sits up in a frantic motion, almost tipping over in the process. He has to grip the sheets hard and pant for a second, the whole world consisting of spinning shapes and his heartbeat in his skull. He sniffles again, uselessly, and Olruggio shifts around for a moment before handing him a grey handkerchief.
The gentle touch of fabric against his nose sets him off almost immediately. He barely has time to take in a breath before twitching. â âdszhh-!â The shifting of congestion in his nose makes the itch reignite before he manages to catch his breath. He watches Oruggio's gaze as his breath wavers, on the edge, until he's finally set free. â âdSZh - eHâdTZh!â thick and so unlike his usual sneezes, they hurt his throat.Â
âBless.â Qifrey hums in response. He doesnât trust his ability to talk. He's sick of this song and dance with Olruggio. Tired of pretending, tired of everything. He's exhausted, aching, and feels trapped in this room.Â
âYouâve got a fever.â Oruggio says, startling him out of his fervor. His hands are gripped in the sheets, handkerchief still in hand. He avoids Olruggioâs eyes. âNothinâ bad, youâre not too warm.â Qifrey sniffles again, pathetically, clears his throat into his shoulder. Heâs so foggy-minded. âOkay.â he murmurs. âThank you, Olruggio.âÂ
Olruggio doesnât say anything, for a few minutes. Long enough that Qifrey nearly starts nodding off, lulled to sleep by rhythmic noises of anxiety. His quill never stops its tapping, probably bleeding through the paper and onto his sheets. Neither of them mention it.Â
âCan I just take care of you, for once?â Qifrey finally meets his eyes, through his half closed eyes. He looks more ragged than usual, accentuated by the dark shadows of his room. Qifrey wants to ask him when he last got a good night's rest, when his next commissions are due, when the last time he checked up on the girls is. Wants to ask if Richeh ate much dinner, if Tetia is too hyper without enough to do today, if Aggott even looked up from her studies once. He does none of this.Â
Instead, he sighs. âWill you take no for an answer?â he tries, to Olruggio's scoff. âDo you ever?â Qifrey canât help but feel a little guilty at that, sinking back into the bed sheets with flushed cheeks. Olruggio stands, groaning, like he had been sitting there for a while. He shuffles across Qifreyâs room to his desk, full of books and scattered sheets of paper. Thereâs a bowl on it, and Olruggio takes it before returning to his chair heavily. He reaches out the bowl, full of cool oatmeal, until Qifrey begrudgingly takes it, is slow to release it like he is worried Qifrey will drop it. It lays heavy in his lap. He sets it aside, despite Olruggio's look, and neither of them mention it.Â
  Olruggio shuffles around a little more and pulls a few snugstones out of his pocket. He sets them around Qiferyâs form in the blanket, and theyâre too warm, but he doesnât have the heart to say anything with Olruggioâs thoughtfulness. He closes his eyes, too tired to keep whatever it is they have going, and lifts a corner of the blanket. âCome in here, then. You look tired.âÂ
Olruggio gives him a long look, and Qifreyâs worried the fever got to him for a second. But then he stands from his chair, slides into bed without complaint. Their bodies are so close, and wife's aflame. He falls asleep burning.Â
âąâąââââ đ€ âââââąâą
Qifrey feels disoriented when he wakes up. He canât find anything that could have startled him awake, and he hadnât had a nightmare. He stares at the dark ceiling for a few moments, trying to get his bearings, until heâs startled by a sudden â ârSZCHh!â, and the previous hours start to drift back to him.Â
âBless you..â Qifrey murmurs, voice surprisingly present. He must have passed the worst of it, finally. âAre you okay?âÂ
Olruggio makes a thick, snuffling sound somewhere to his left. The bed is still warm, so he must have just gotten up. âYeah,â he says, and then itâs quiet for a few moments until the floor creaks with his return. âI didnât mean to wake ya.â He says, voice more rasped then it usually is when he wakes up, nuzzling back into Qifrey. He falls back asleep quickly, but he tosses and turns uncharacteristically. It eats at Qifrey, keeps him awake.Â
Itâs likely sometime after sunrise when Olruggio starts to stir again. He never really settled, and at some point Qifrey stopped trying to help him for fear of waking him up, so his limbs are knotted in the quilts. He doesnât seem to notice, blinking slowly at Qifrey. âGood morning,â he tries, with a smile. Olruggio doesnât say anything, just buries his head back against Qifreyâs chest and takes a slow, congested breath through his nose. Qifreyâs heart hurts.Â
They stay like that for a while. Qifrey doesnât want to move him, but his nose starts to itch at some point, and despite his fight he ends up jostling him with a sharp movement. âhâTShh-! âtSZhih!âÂ
Olly startles up, probably having been half asleep. Qifrey wants to apologize, but his nose isnât satisfied, so he holds a placating hand and shields his mouth against his other one as he sneezes once again. Finally, he falls back against the pillow, pushing Olruggio back against his chest with a gentle hand. Olruggio doesnât say anything for a long while, and when he does speak it's rough and painful sounding.Â
âI think weâll both be stuck in here for awhile,â he says, and thereâs nothing saying heâs mad at Qifrey for it but he canât help but feel so guilty, especially when Olruggioâs so busy. âSomebodyâs got to tell the girls.â Qifrey hums, allows himself the pleasure of running one brief hand through Olruggioâs messed up hair.Â
âIâll do it.â He says, without making any move to get up. âI think I may be better off than you are, now.â Olruggio huffs at that. He doesnât want to move, feeling kind of like Olruggio is a cat that wonât come back if he moves even the slightest bit. But he can hear birds, faintly, and the floor above him is starting to creak with life as his girls start to stir. No matter what he wants, he canât leave them entirely alone.Â
So he gets up, and Olruggio watches him leave with droopy eyes, and he smiles at the girls as they trickle in, passing off his own stuffiness as just a bit of allergies. When he serves their bowls, he finds himself suddenly famished, so he ends up scarfing down a bowl in the kitchen while they eat in the other room. Their quiet chatter is so warm, but the light in the kitchen spills out from the windows. His head aches. He has to bid his girls farewell, instructing them to learn on their own for a second day, and return to his room with an orange and paring knife.Â
Olruggio makes no move to sit up from where heâs sprawled out in his absence, so he sits himself at the edge of the bed. âAre they doing alright?â He mumbles into the bedsheets. âOf course,â he replies, choosing not to tease him for his worrying this time. âTheyâre a bit concerned, though.â Olruggio hums. âToo smart for their own good.âÂ
Qifrey has to stifle his laugh. âI brought you food,â he says, holding up the orange even though Olruggio canât see it. Fruit doesnât count as a meal, really, but Olruggio tends to get upset stomachs when he doesnât feel well, so heâs hoping it's good enough. Olly groans into the mattress, but he eventually shifts around until heâs sort of sitting up. His face looks pinched, and it isnât long before heâs muffling a heavy sneeze into his elbow. â hârRSZhh-iuh!âÂ
 âBless you,â Qifrey says, and Olruggio makes a lazy flapping motion with his free hand before gasping again. â ârRSCHhhâiuh!âÂ
âBless you,â Qifrey says again, because he canât help it. Olruggioâs face is flushed when he comes up, expression still pinched looking. He grumbles something inaudible. Qifrey hands him slices of fruit as a peace offering. Olruggio takes it with a steady  hand, holds it hesitatingly near his mouth before starting to eat. Qifrey feeds him slices until he eats them all.Â
origamiaround
titsay
andulkaphoto
tangentwithtanner
turnnoffyourmind
gracieabrams
blakekathryn
amandla
