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aethon-recs · 1 year

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24 Tomarrymort Recs for 2022 (One-Shot Edition)

A thank-you to the Tomarrymort community, inspired by @sitp-recs's wonderful rec lists!

Criteria for this list: one-shot, complete, published in 2022. I tried to include a wide array of tropes and themes and ratings, but of course I haven't read everything published on AO3 in the past year, so please always feel free to drop fic suggestions in my Ask box! I aimed for 22 fics (for 2022) but found too many unforgettable fics in my bookmarks, so 24 it is.

(Standard rec list disclaimers apply: please mind the tags; this is not intended as the ultimate reclist, only a reflection of my own tastes + what I had time to read this year; recs are arranged alphabetically by fic title.)

Multi-chaptered fics and WIPs will get their own posts, but for now, please enjoy these wonderful one-shots that were all written in the last year and remind me of how multifaceted and talented our little corner of the fandom is! These amazing authors made me gasp and cry and laugh and heavy breathe (sometimes all within the same fic). *

Tomarrymort Recs (One-Shot Edition)

Alive Really Isn't Your Color by @meles-merrivale (T, 6k)

A beautifully written, bittersweet take on Harry's life after the war and what it means to fall in love with someone you're supposed to hate and who's supposed to be dead. There's so many stunning, evocative lines from this fic that I could quote, but I'll leave you with this one: "How did Harry ever think Voldemort didn’t understand emotion? The man feels everything, feels it with his whole body, twisting his face and coiling his magic and tearing apart the world with the force of it."

contrapasso by hanamichi (E, 13k)

This was GRIPPING from beginning to end. The author does an incredible job with showcasing Harry's struggling emotional state after the war, and his grief is just so palpable. Harry and Voldemort's dynamic is gorgeous here.

From Every Ruin by @officialsporkintheroad (M, 5k)

Time loops beloved! This was such a clever take on the classic graveyard encounter, and there's nothing more that I love seeing than Harry losing it with every successive time loop.

Gaunt by @wixen-writes-tomarry (M, 8k)

A sense of uneasiness pervades this fic — lots of haunting prose and elements of psychological horror — it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. A must-read if you like alternate takes on Harry encountering another one of Tom's horcruxes (in this case, the ring horcrux).

In Your Image by @perhaps-sunlight (T, 11k)

An AU loosely based on the Portrait of Dorian Gray, with Tom as a painter who's found immortality and eternal youth by stealing his victims' souls away and what happens when he sets his eyes on Harry— very suspenseful and gripping throughout, and I love how it cleverly weaves in elements of canon that were very fun to recognize!

knock it off by TheOnceandFutureQueenofTarts (E, 3k)

Harry having a masochistic streak is a characterization that I adore, and this fic does an amazing job delving into this aspect of his psychosexual development that by the time he meets the locket horcrux, it all goes downhill from there. It's also so funny and written in a snappy way, I laughed out loud at the ending.

Love at First Sight by @dividawrites (E, 5k)

One of the funniest things I've ever read in this ship — every single line of Harry's desperate pleading to Voldemort had me howling. And it wouldn't be a Divida fic without super hot smut at the end (featuring! actual! hemipenes!!) The best take on creature inheritance trope I've read.

My Decorated Horcrux by @youknowmevj (E, 4k)

I love Voldemort wins AUs; it's fascinating to explore the dynamic that he'd have with Harry in his new regime, and oh, does this fic deliver! Voldemort adorning Harry and showing him off is always a treat, plus Harry remaining his defiant self — so many fun elements in this PWP.

on the other side by @philolust (E, 3k)

One of the most haunting things I've read this year. Voldemort's POV is surprisingly heartbreaking; actually, the whole fic is heartbreaking. I don't want to give too much away, but this is an EXCELLENT take on the trapped-in-a-room trope.

On the rejection of love by Baryshnikov (T, 2k)

A really interesting exploration of Tom being aroace and what that means in terms of being in a relationship with Harry. I love this author's series on aroace Tom overall; it was hard to pick a favorite!

paradise / circus by but_seriously (E, 5k)

Snappy banter and really hot smut in this PWP, a perfect generation mashup that showcases a great depiction of how Harry doesn't actually hate Tom as much as he claims 😊

Personal Assistant by @phantomato (E, 10k)

This one is an absolute masterpiece, an incredible study in suspense. It's a really unique take on a universe where Voldemort never comes back after his initial downfall on Oct 31, 1981, and features a very realistic depiction on who Harry grows to be if he didn't have the formative childhood adventures that we saw in the books. There's an incredibly skillfully crafted mystery at the heart of this story, and when it all comes together in the end, I screamed and gasped and immediately reread it looking for clues that Phantomato had layered in all throughout.

saw you in a dream by @duplicitywrites (E, 2k)

Dream sex with Voldemort! The writing is so ethereal and floaty and poetic, packed full of intensely sensual phrases like, "Its shadowy form sinks deeper into Harry's body, soothing him. Harry can feel it everywhere, like ice through his veins, like they’re two halves of the same whole." It's the perfect dream sex sequence fic 💖

Sola Fide by @crowcrowcrowthing (M, 8k)

So very atmospheric and a fascinating depiction of ritual magic and Voldemort as an actual god! AUs are a really great way to explore what makes the core of a character — that even if it's the characters thrust in different circumstances, you can still tell who they are at their core, and this fic does a fantastic job of reimagining Harry and Voldemort meeting under different circumstances.

Something New by @itsevanffs (E, 2k)

A fresh (and super hot!) take on A/B/O dynamics, featuring both Alpha Harry and Alpha Tom, with both of them overriding their natural instincts in different ways in order to be with each other. The control, the restraint, the desperation, the taboo-ness of what they're doing within their society — all amazing elements that have made this into one of my favorite A/B/O dynamics that I've read. Alpha/Alpha is so underrated! (Also, not a tag that can be filtered yet on AO3, for some reason).

such a heavenly way to die by driftingsea (M, 7k)

This was SO clever and funny, and an amazing play on Harry being MoD. I don't want to give too much away, but let's just say this fic perfectly captures how murder is the ultimate Tomarry love language.

take this kiss (upon the brow) by @audair (T, 2k)

Incredibly beautiful and poetic prose. The mysterious backstory behind the Tomarry established relationship had me on the edge of my seat. This is one I'll reread over and over again for the haunting and atmospheric prose.

The gift by @metalomagnetic (E, 1.6k)

The perfect follow-up to 'Either must die' told from Voldemort's POV — surprisingly sweet and, not surprisingly, very sexy. As always, Metalo's fics pack a huge emotional punch; this one accomplishes it in just 1600 words — every single sentence is emotionally significant and not a single word is wasted - a must-read if you've read EMD.

the monster you (don't) see by Lils_White (E, 2k)

Harry pining for Voldemort after the war. A lovely, haunting, perfect depiction of dream sex, where you've left wondering what is a dream and what is real.

The Ties That Bind by @mosiva (E, 8k)

Mosiva writes an amazing Harry and Tom dynamic, as well as consistently delivers on great smut, and Tom here is a gem. This fic showcases Tom at his manipulative (sexiest) best, and the progression of Harry growing more drawn to Tom feels very natural and unrushed. Also, did I mention how hot the smut is? The author has other chaptered works that are worth checking out as well, if you like this dynamic!

The Train Station at Forever by @vdoshu (T, 1k)

This is one of the most deeply emotional takes I've seen on the endless reincarnation cycles theme (usually due to Harry being MoD and Voldemort being tied to Harry's soul). In just 1000 words, Doshu does an amazing job of capturing the angst and torment of Harry and Tom achieving "immortality" in this manner, and left me in shivers.

We Still Have Time by @duplicitywrites (T, 9k)

This was SO BEAUTIFUL and SO SAD, an incredible depiction of holding onto someone you love even after death, and I can't even think about this fic without wanting to weep. One of the most heartwrenching things I've read in all of fanfic, in all of my years reading fanfic. I very rarely cry reading fics, and god, I cry every time I've reread this fic. This is duplicity angst at its finest.

Wrath of the Lamb by @penmanner (M, 6k)

One of the most unique takes I've seen on Harry time-traveling to Tom's time in the 1940s. Something goes wrong, and Harry has amnesia but still a sense of purpose. The author's writing is gorgeous and poetic and does an amazing job of illustrating how disorienting Harry's experience is. I absolutely LOVE the amnesia trope, and this fic does it amazing justice.

you, me, a room we made by @kkeikatt (E, 9k)

This PWP was a delight to read. Voldemort and Harry trapped in a room together and the best option is to fuck each other? YES. Sign me up. The smut is extended and memorable and oh so glorious.

#tomarry #harrymort #tomarrymort #tomarry recs #tomarrymort recs #hp fic recs #2022 reads #2022 recs #one-shot recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #harrymort recs

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jae-birde · 5 months

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This was supposed to come out weeks ago, but I got stuck in the editing process and then I got sick… so yeah, this took a while. But now it's done!

This is also cross-posted on AO3 here.

This fic is dedicated to both @somerandomdudelmao and @tapakah0, both of whom are incredibly talented and huge inspirations to me, both in terms of writing and in drawing, so thank you both so much.

Anyways, spoilers up to chapter 16 of Cass' Apocalypse series.

Donnie was standing in the middle of a crowd.

It was safe to say that he was very much not used to being surrounded by such crowds, even in the Resistance. He was never the one that everyone would crowd around; that was always Leo or Raph or Mikey or April or… literally anyone but him. Even considering that, and even thinking about the few times people did crowd around him, there was something very different about this one. Something off.

He looked around. He could tell that they were talking — their mouths were moving, and sound was certainly coming out — but it was indecipherable, and none of the people had a distinct form, which was quickly beginning to become very unnerving.

Donnie looked around, and a tug in his gut had him scanning the crowd for his brothers.

"Mikey?" He called out. "Leo! Where the fuck are… you…?" Donnie trailed off, frozen at the sight of the pink veins covering his hand. His hands, actually.

"What…?" His mind was suddenly thrust backwards — or was it forwards? — in time, remembering when he'd first seen signs of the infection.

The infection.

"No! No, no, no, no, no…" Donnie couldn't help the desperation in his tone, his horror growing as he watched and felt the infection creeping through his veins, killing him all over again. Only this time, it didn't give him the mercy of time, the pain instead seeming to flood his senses. He sucked in a sharp breath and felt it get caught in his throat. He felt the way the virus weakened him, sapping his strength like poison as it happened all over again. He closed his eyes at the wave of pain that crashed over him, a sick feeling settling in his gut.

His legs gave away, and he dropped to the ground with a groan, one hand out to catch his fall, the other wrapping around his stomach as a pain shot through it. The pink was all over him now; he could see it. It seeped into the ground around him, trying to pull him down with it. He opened his eyes, looking up at the crowd desperately.

"Please— I—" Donnie stopped, staring at the crowd around him.

They all stared back.

"Why are you…?" He trailed off, looking around, hoping to see any sign of someone moving to help.

No one moved.

"…Just looking…?"

The crowd hovered around him, indistinct forms still murmuring incomprehensible words. The pink of the virus encompassed him, and he felt himself growing weaker with every second, pain wracking his body as he sunk lower onto the ground.

"You're already dead," one voice said, seemingly coming from everywhere at once.

They're the first words he heard that weren't his own since he found himself in this crowd, and they made it feel as if the world was crashing down on him.

"What's the point?" Another asked, voice void of emotion as it echoed around him.

Donnie stared at them, uncomprehending. "But… I'm not?" He tried to push himself up, but his arms trembled and gave out under him, and he collapsed again, strength weakening by the second.

"Not… yet… Donnie closed his eyes, tears stinging at them as he lay there, forcing himself to take breath after shuddery breath.

This poison had practically consumed him. It had sapped away his strength until he could barely move.

And he didn't particularly want to.

The crowd's murmuring had silenced, but he could still feel their presence around him, their forms towering over his prone one.

Donnie couldn't open his eyes. He felt a tear track down his face as he lay still, letting the pain, cold, and exhaustion wash over him and sweep him away. He couldn't do anything now. He was overwhelmed by the pain and misery caused by the infection. There wasn't anything that could be done at this point anyway; he was too far gone. There was an insistent tug around him, pulling him into the ground.

You are dead after all, a voice whispered in Donnie's mind. It's just bringing you to where you belong.

And Donnie didn't have the strength to fight it anymore.

But then he didn't have to.

He was being carried. It was a familiar enough feeling to him, his brothers and sister all having done it at one point or another for him, but this hold was different. Familiar in a way that he was clinging to, even before he realized who it was. And then, all at once, Donnie recognized who it was.

Leo.

Donnie nearly cried at feeling his brother's arms holding him again; he would recognize his twin's hold anywhere. He felt safe in his brother's arms in a way he hadn't felt for a long time. He knew that Leo would keep him safe. Donnie felt himself go slack in Leo's arms before he felt a gentle weight on his head and cracked his eyes open.

And there was Mikey, floating just in front of him, dark hair obscuring most of his face, but his little brother's sad smile was visible.

There was a glow around Mikey, a pale orange that was nearly white, that seemed to emanate from him in an aura. There was soothing warmth pouring from Mikey's touch that chased away the freezing cold of the Krang infection, and Donnie felt himself leaning into the sweet, blessed relief, despite the memories poking at his consciousness, whispering in his ear that it wouldn't help. Mikey had tried everything he could before; all it ever did was leave Mikey more tired than before. It wasn't worth it. Donnie didn't want his brother to feel that not when he'd just found him again.

"You know… that won't really help…?" Donnie trailed off despite himself, lost in an odd mix of pain and relief as the warmth of Mikey's mystic powers seeped through his veins, chasing away the cold of the virus in a way that Donnie had never felt before.

"Hm… yes." Leo mused, and Donnie felt a stab to his heart from hearing his brother's voice for the first time since he died.

Mikey's hand glowed brighter, and Donnie felt the mystics wash over his body. The pink that had nearly covered his hand turned white, and Donnie reached for his brother, desperate to hold onto Mikey's hand while he still could.

"Yes," Mikey continued, taking Donnie's hand in his own and squeezing tightly, his other hand gently holding the side of Donnie's face.

Donnie felt Leo gently rub his shell, and he relaxed further into his brother's hold, smiling up at Mikey, tears in his eyes.

"We do," Mikey concluded, the glow from his hands growing brighter before Donnie was left blinking from the brightness of it.

And suddenly, he wasn't looking at his brother anymore. He wasn't being carried.

His eyes shot fully open, and he sat up, eyes darting around his desk as he remembered where — and when — he was. Coffee mugs were grouped to the side, and paper notes were scattered across the desk's surface. Glowing purple screens were the only thing illuminating the otherwise empty room.

Donnie straightened up, rubbing at his eyes before dragging his hand down his face as his posture slumped. Mikey and Leo were still out there.

He looked up at his screens.

He just needed to find them.

Besides. Death was fixable after all.

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belltari · 6 months

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Happy (early) Halloween!!

I finished editing this today but I couldn't wait until Halloween to post it so here it is, an EXTREMELY self indulgent ghoap sex-in-the-closet Halloween fic.

If you're under 18, you shouldn't be reading it.

warnings & tags: plot with porn (a halloween party, its what the boys deserve), terrible dad jokes, flirty banter, established relationship (I'm imagining that it's still new, like only Price knows and Gaz is putting the pieces together), some dom!ghost tones (nothing too dominant), pleasure dom!Simon (that man just wants Johnny to feel good), public sex (it's a blowjob in a closet), face rutting, cum eating, someone gets called a "good boy" a couple of times

it's about 3 thousand-ish words

This was my first time writing something this explicit, so please keep in mind that I have a lot to learn. The other writers in the cod fandom are excellent teachers and inspire me a great deal.

If you just want to read the porn, start reading after the ' -- '

Anyways, I hope you enjoy and have a great rest of your spooky season!

Approaching the mess hall, Johnny chuckles at the purple and orange 'Happy Halloween!' banner hanging above the doorway, it's very clearly homemade with streaky paint and clumpy glitter making up the words and what looks like an old, tattered tarp as the banner. He wonders if it was a team-building exercise for the recruits, as this whole party was a mixer for them to get to know each other better.

Paper party streamers act as a curtain on the wide doorframe, blocking Johnny's view of the interior of the mess hall, he can feel the bass of the music thumping in his chest and hear cheerful laughter from the other side. Pushing the curtain aside, he steps through to see the short corridor has been decorated. Plastic bats with light-up red eyes hang on strings from the ceiling, jack-o'-lantern string lights flickering along the walls accompanied with signs with sayings like "enter if you dare" and "turn back" written on them. When he gets to the end, he surveys the now-repurposed dining hall, more streamers, banners, and cheap plastic decorations decorate the room. The lights have been turned off and the windows covered, floodlights and spotlights covered with coloured transparent pieces of plastic are the only lights illuminating the room creating a dramatic scene.

Several tables are being used as pumpkin carving stations, one of the recruits is ripping the guts out and complaining about the smell, and another is stabbing their pumpkin with a hunting knife. Gaz is there, dressed as a vampire with a long cape and plastic fangs in his mouth, to supervise. He's laughing with them telling them they need to work on their techniques a bit more when he catches Soap's eye giving him a smile and a quick wave, he returns the gesture and continues scanning the room.

He turns to where the music is coming from, tables cleared from the corner creating a makeshift dancefloor. Recruits dressed as ghouls, goblins, witches, and all sorts of different costumes grind and dance together to the music, drinks in hand, and smiles on their faces. 'No better team bonding than getting absolutely shit-faced together' Soap thinks to himself with a grin across his face. He notices Price standing with a group of other captains and lieutenants, he's got a glass of whiskey in one hand and is using the other to help animate whatever story he's got everyone laughing at. Price is dressed in a tri-corn hat with a tall feather sticking out of the side and a knee-length red coat with gold adornments on the sleeves and lapels. 'Gotta be Captain Morgan' Soap smiles, shaking his head. Price notices him, giving Soap a smile and a quick nod which Soap returns.

Finally, he spots the man he was looking for, his broad back facing away from him. Soap approaches walking up to grab a drink next to Ghost. He has his balaclava rolled up to his nose, a half-eaten cupcake in one hand, and a plate of other confections in the other. "Thought you'd put a little more effort in L.T.." Soap says as twists open the bottle of beer he's picked up and turns to smile at Ghost.

Ghost is wearing his normal skull balaclava and skeletal gloves, but his 'costume' has the addition of a hoodie with the skeletal system of a torso and arms.

"Didn’t put much effort in 'cause my heart just wasn’t in it." Ghost response points to his chest where his heart would be.

Soap snorts. "Bet you've been waiting to say that all night."

"Gotta 'nother one for ya."

"Go on then."

"Why are skeletons so calm?" He pauses. "Because nothing gets under their skin."

"Ugh please no more." Soap says in a playful tone shaking his head.

"What are you supposed to be then?" Ghost asks, pointing to Soap while eating the rest of his cupcake.

"Thought it was obvious? The fluffy tail and ears, the roguishly good looks?" Soap pauses, looking at Ghost with a wolfish grin. "C'mon Ghost, I thought you were good at this?"

Ghost eyes rake over Soap’s form. Starting at his furry-eared headband, then down to his bright red collar around his neck. He pauses there for a second, Soap can see his Adam’s apple bob under his balaclava, before continuing further down to his distressed dress shirt that he’s left open at the top exposing his chest, he’s half tucked in his shirt to his jeans that he often wears on ops, the ones that hug his hips and thighs just right. And between his legs, a dark furry tail hangs ending just above his knees.

"Oh, I see you're one of those yappy little lap dogs."

"Oh aye. I'm very territorial and I never shut up. Watch your ankles L.T., I always go for those." Soap says stepping closer to Ghost. He looks down at the collar he's wearing, lifting his eyes back up, over Johnny's chin, to his smirking lips then setting on his bright blue eyes.

"Hmm" Ghost hums. "And is he a good boy too?" He said as he bites into a ghost-shaped sugar cookie.

"Depends on who's giving the orders, sir." Soap looks up through his lashes at Ghost, taking a swig of his drink.

Ghost looks around to make sure no one is paying any mind to them. When he's sure no one is, he hooks a finger under the collar pulling Soap even closer. He then leans into Soap's ear and whispers "Be a good boy then and go to the utility closet, lock the door, and don't open it until you hear three knocks of a beating heart." He doesn't wait for Johnny to respond before pulling away and walking over to Price, where Gaz has now joined him at the other end of the room.

Soap takes a deep breath, downing the rest of his drink, and grabs another one before joining the rest of 141.

When he approaches, Gaz is in the middle of telling Price about the pumpkin carving recruits and their 'interesting' techniques. But Soap's not listening, he's watching Ghost eat another cookie, licking the crumbs from the corner of his lip, laughing at something Price had said.

Soap's face gets hot, he downs a couple mouthfuls of his beer to try and cool down. "You good, Soap?" Gaz asks smiling at him.

"Aye, but this beer isn't. Has to be the weakest thing I've ever drank."

"It's probably a lot better than at piss tequila you drink." Ghost jokes.

"Think I'll go find ya some then LT. Maybe I can get you to come round to it." Soap winks at Ghost and turns to leave, only to be stopped by another captain holding a camera. "Group shot for the books, boys?" She asks. Soap looks over his shoulder at Price as he answers "Alright, come on then," waving the boys closer.

Price throws his arms over Gaz and Ghost's shoulders, Ghost rolls his balaclava back down over his jaw and Soap takes his place on the end next to him, snaking an arm around his back placing his hand on Ghost's waist.

"Say 'Happy Halloween!" The captain says as she readies to take the picture. Soap throws up the peace sign and the boys say the words the captain wanted when the camera flashes.

She comes over to show them the picture, they all look happy, even Ghost looks like he's smiling under his mask. They deserve a break like this after their last op. They move apart and Soap tells them he is going to find that drink for Ghost and excuses himself.

"Ma'am, could I get a copy of that picture?" Soap taps the captain with the camera on her shoulder on his way out. "Of course, hun! I'll make sure to give Price a few extra copies once I get them printed."

"Cheers!" Soap says raising his bottle in response "Enjoy the rest of your night."

"You too!" She says, giving a short wave to Soap.

'Oh, I will.' Soap thinks as he makes his way out of the mess hall and into the corridor leading to the utility closet Ghost wants him to wait in. He walks as fast as he can without looking suspicious, a tightness growing in his stomach and a heart wanting to break free of his ribs in excited anticipation of what's to come.

Rounding a corner, he meets a group of recruits.

"Leaving the party already Sarg?"

"Don't cha worry I'll be back, I'm only out looking for a little something stronger to drink." Soap responds with a wink as he walks backward down the hall coming to a corner. "You lads better get back there, don't want the captain to catch you out here." He turns the corner, hearing the recruits retreating footsteps as he approaches the utility closet door.

When he's standing in front of the door, he grips the handle, checking both ends of the hallway to make sure he won't be seen entering. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he opens the door and steps inside, reaching to his left to flick on the light and shutting the door behind him locking himself in.

He waits for what feels like ages. He finished the last of his drink a while ago and is now pacing around the small room.

"The things I do for this man." Soap signs. "This is ridiculous, what am I even doing in here?"

He checks his watch, 20 minutes have passed.

He's been waiting in a closet for Ghosts for twenty minutes.

"Oh, I'm so making you pay for this LT." He leans against the wall, readjusting his headband to distract him from the tightness in his pants that has been there for the last 15 minutes.

'Fuck it' he thinks, 'I'm not waiting any longer.' He reaches to palm himself through his jeans, moaning at the feeling of finally being touched. His briefs are wet with precum and creating a slick surface that his cock twitches against earning another sign from him. He reaches into his shirt to grab his nipple when a knock from the door startles him.

Knock-knock

Soap takes two long strides to the door, unlocking it and flinging it open. Ghost pushes his way in, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Jesus Simon, I thought you were going to make me wait here all night," Johnny says moving to stand chest to chest with Simon. He places one hand on Simon's waist and moves his other to take off Simon's mask.

Simon grabs his wrist and moves away. "Thought you were being a good boy? Think you need to learn some patience."

"My patience ran out 15 minutes ago." Johnny groans, freeing his wrist and ripping Simon’s mask off, throwing it somewhere on the floor behind him. His hair is an absolute mess, sticking up in all directions and a smirk is plaster across his face, he's looking down at Johnny hungerly.

Johnny smashes his lips onto Simon's in a desperate sloppy kiss, tongue and saliva pushing into Simon's mouth. A moan escapes Johnny. Simon reaches one of his hands up to the back of Johnny's head, caressing his nape first then gripping the back of his mohawk to deepen the kiss.

Johnny pulls away breathing hard when Simon's other hand touches his cock through his jeans. "Fuuuuck" he moans into Simon's neck, placing several open-mouthed kisses there and bringing his hands to wrap around Simon's broad back grabbing fist fulls of his hoodie.

Johnny ruts against Simon's hand earning a chuckle from Simon, "Desperation looks good on you, Johnny."

"Can think of a couple other things that might look even better."

Simon pulls away from Johnny, placing a hand on his chest pushing him away, "Stay." He says as looks down at him with half-lidded eyes. His gaze wanders down Johnny's face to the collar he wears on his neck, then to his chest that heaves in excitement, shirt half unbuttoned showing off his well-defined pecs that are covered in dark hair. Simon takes his hand and brushes Johnny's shirt where he knows his nipple sits underneath, drawing a shutter out of him. He smiles, looking up to Johnny's eyes that are already staring back at him. Simon looks down to see Johnny has clenched his fists that hang by his sides and sees that he's straining against his jeans, a wet spot has formed where the head of his cock has been twitching, wishing to be free from the confines of his jeans.

"You gonna me show how good you are?" He asks Johnny.

"Simon, please I-"

Simon walks Johnny backward until his back meets the shelf full of cleaning supplies behind them, shaking when they collide with it. Simon goes to plant a kiss on Johnny's mouth when Johnny tries to meet him halfway, "Ah-ah, I said stay" he scolds as he grabs Johnny's jaw with a firm grip. He places a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth, then on the scar on his chin, and then one more on the pulse on his neck, he can feel it racing under his lips.

He suddenly pulls away and crouches down to settle on his knees in front of Johnny. Simon reaches for Johnny's belt unbuckling it, he unbuttons his jeans pulling them and his boxer briefs halfway down his thighs in one fluid motion, letting Johnny's cock spring free in front of his face.

A string of precum hangs from the half-covered head of his cock, creating a string that connects to the inside of his briefs. It twitches and another pearl forms under Simon's gaze. The pearl drops to the floor when Simon's gloved hand connects with his shaft, slowly moving his foreskin back to reveal his glistening, swollen head.

"Ahh, fuck" Johnny sighs, throwing his head back to smack against the self with a bang, knocking over a couple of the bottles.

"Careful, Johnny. Need to stay quiet, don't want anyone finding us do ya?" Simon teases as he starts lazily stroking his cock. He gets a hiss from Johnny, as he slides his gloved hand down his shaft to the base, creating a rough sensation for Johnny.

Simon's hand slides back up to his leaking head, thumb going to Johnny's frenulum drawing agonizingly slow circles on it. Simon looks up at Johnny to see his face contorted in pleasure with the overstimulation he's causing and that his headband has been knocked out of place. He brings his other hand to grip Johnny's balls, pulling them down gently. Johnny's chest heaves in when he releases a heavy breath, his hand shooting out to grip the edge of the shelf he's leaning on, his other hand hovering over Simon's head, hesitating to grip his hair. He looks down to Simon for permission, to which Simon responds by releasing his hand from Johnny's cock and catching it on his tongue.

"Yer gonna kill me." He breathes, getting a open-mouthed grin out of Simon. He wraps his lips around him before sucking on his head, flicking his tongue on the underside.

"Simon." Johnny warns.

Simon sinks his whole cock into his mouth, nose pushing into Johnny's pubic bone, a burning feeling in the back of his throat. He sticks his tongue out to caress his balls while he starts messaging them with his hand. Drool drops into his palm helping ease the rough feeling of his glove for Johnny. He slides Johnny's cock out of his mouth to take a deep breath.

"Think yer enjoying this more than me." Johnny chuckles at Simon looking down at the saliva dripping from his wet lips. Simon only looks up at him in response before pulling his cock back into his mouth, sucking and bobbing up and down his cock with a relentless pace this time. He never breaks eye contact with Johnny as he starts playing with his balls and moving his forefinger to brush against his taint. This makes Johnny buck forward deep into Simon's mouth and grip his own pec, wanting to place pressure on his nipple. Simon pulls Johnny's hand away, ripping his shirt open making a couple of the buttons fly free. He finds Johnny's nipple and pinches. Hard.

"I'm- I’m gunna-!" Johnny pants out. Bucking forward once again, pushing his cock farther down Simon’s throat, making his eyes water.

Simon can feel him twitching and pulsing inside his throat. He pulls his head away quickly just as Johnny starts to come, he tastes it briefly on his tongue before releasing his cock with a pop and feels Johnny's cum land on his face. One release squirts up his cheek stopping on his cheekbone and another across the bridge of his nose just missing his eye. More oozes out as Johnny grips the sides of Simon’s head to rut through his orgasm, rubbing and grinding his cock against Simon's face, his balls slapping against his jaw with a wet sticky sound. Simon closes one of his eyes as Johnny’s cock gets dangerously close to it, even more cum is leaking out of the tip as Johnny overstimulates himself. When he stops, he's breathing hard and hunching over, shaking from his orgasm, his cock jumps against the bridge of Simon’s nose. The cum pooled there drips down his face and over his chin, dripping onto his neck and disappearing under his shirt.

"Good boy." Simon says as he pats Johnny's thigh.

"Lemme be even better than,” he says, as he unsteadily crouches down in front of Simon, “and help clean you up." He sticks his tongue out, licking the cum off Simon’s neck, trailing up to his chin, then up and over his cheek. After he's collected it all in his mouth he kisses Simon, holding eye contact when he pushes it into his mouth with his tongue, smiling when he accepts it. Johnny pulls away, looking very impressed with himself, a string of saliva connects them and Simon swallows what he’s given him. Wiping his mouth with the back of this hand, Simon stands them both up, pulling Johnny's pants up, tucking him back in his briefs, and making his best attempt to fix his shirt.

Johnny places an arm around Simon's neck pulling him into a sweet tender kiss. "Let's get you sorted then." He smiles into Simon's lips, he reaches underneath his hoodie to brush along Simon’s abdomen, running his fingers through his happy trail, flattening his hand to slide into the top of his cargo pants.

Simon pulls away slightly, reaching up to fix Johnny’s fluffy-eared headband. "You know I don't need that."

"I know" he pauses "but I want too," Johnny whispers into his cheek. "I'll come to your room later. This time you'll have to wait for me." He smirks looking up at him.

"I'll be waiting." Simon kisses Johnny one last time, then steps out of his reach, picking up his discarded mask from the floor and slipping it over his head back into place. He grabs Soap's long-forgotten empty bottle and says, "Wait five minutes before leaving, yeah?"

"I know, Ghost. This isn't my first time." He smiles.

"And remember that piss tequila you were supposed to be findin'."

"You won't be callin' it that by the end of the night."

"Mmm, I doubt that." Ghost opens the door quietly to listen for anyone outside, when he hears nothing, he looks back at Soap over his shoulder and nods a 'see you' then steps out closing the door behind him.

Soap takes in a deep breath. 'Think I gotta start wearing a collar more often.' He thinks. 'Maybe I should start wearing the throat mic again?'

#ghost has a sweet tooth and i wont hear otherwise #price and gaz are here but they play a small part so imma not tag em #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod #bell writes

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desertfangs · 3 months

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Swipe Right [AO3]

Armand/Daniel, Louis/Daniel - 5 Chapters - Explicit

Y'all, I'm so excited about this because this is, no joke, the first AU I've ever written in terms of truly being an alternate universe (I've done some canon divergent stuff but that's it.) I've just been so inspired by the wonderful AUs and AU ideas in this fandom and when I saw the prompt, I knew what I wanted to do.

This was written for @valenfangs for the prompt "Dating App."

Anyhow, I'm a little nervous because this is something I haven't done before but I'm so excited about this fic and I'm really happy with how it turned out. It's 5 chapters, all written (so it is complete), although there is potential for more chapters or a sequel so we'll see. I will post one chapter per week.

Also, where is that anon who asked if I'd ever write Louis/Daniel because uh... here you go. They are not the main focus but the first chapter is pretty much them so... You're welcome! I told you I never know what might happen!

Summary: In this modern, human AU, Daniel is a radio intern with a podcast who installs a Dating App to find love. He matches with a strange, pretty guy named Armand, and meets another gorgeous man, Louis, in a bar. Dating is complicated and weird, but Daniel just wants to find love.

Short Excerpt:

It was an alert from the new dating app he’d signed up for. His pulse quickened. He’d made a profile in a fit of loneliness the other night, a little tipsy and unable to sleep. For all his time spent talking to people, he never seemed to make any lasting romantic connections and the app was a desperate attempt to change that.

Most of the matches had seemed wrong to him immediately and while he didn’t mind the odd dick pic, he didn’t understand the point of sending them without so much as hello to accompany the photo, nor what he was meant to do when he received them. He’d sent one back once and the guy unmatched with him, which hadn’t helped his confidence. Since then, he’d pretty much written the app off as a failed experiment.

He looked at this new match. The guy was gorgeous, that was the first thing he noticed. Auburn hair curling around his chin, big brown eyes, pale skin, and a dusting of freckles. He was young, maybe a few years younger than him. In the photo, he was wearing a t-shirt (a rarity on these apps, most dudes went shirtless), but the funniest part was his profile photo made him look kind of bored. He was smiling faintly but like the photo had been taken by someone else holding him at gunpoint. Daniel found that endearing.

His profile said his name was Armand. He was twenty years old and a student at SFSU. He liked video games, science, and museums. Daniel had to admit he was intrigued. He accepted the match and then sent a short message: “Hi! You’re hot. I also love museums. Maybe we could go sometime.” He hit send and then immediately worried it was stupid. He resisted the urge to delete it. He silenced his phone and tossed it onto his bed.

He went back to editing the podcast, because he needed to get it uploaded by midnight so it could go out tomorrow on time. Not that any of his 67 subscribers ever complained if he was late.

Read the Rest on AO3

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firstsprinces · 3 months

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Thank you @anincompletelist for the tag this week! I can't wait for more of the dom!Henry/Alex you've got us begging for! I've been purposely saving the rest of bridesmaids so I can read it all in one go, and partially because I'm not ready to say goodbye to them yet!

We’re so close to this WIP finally being posted! This may be the last preview you'll get from this chapter. Below the cut, you'll also get a bonus share of this fic's title.

The radio announcer’s voice comes back in, breaking up in between his words as the signal Henry’s found seems to weaken, “if you are planning any kind of travel for this weekend, the Deputy Sheriff advises everyone to be cautious as the ‘Boxcar Bandit’ moves his way closer to our city. Policemen have begun to post these signs in businesses as well as passing around a sketch of what this twisted man may look like from an eyewitness who described him after spotting a suspicious-looking person rummaging through his pigs' feeding troughs late at night.” At the mention of the wanted poster, Henry twists around to reach into the pocket of his coat where he’d placed the paper the policeman had given him at the train station. He quickly unfolds it in excitement because he’ll finally have an idea about what the notorious outlaw may look like. When he opens the paper’s final fold, his eyes are met with the large bold letters spelling out ‘WANTED’ with a picture of a man wearing a black cowboy hat and a kerchief that covers everything but his eyes. Dark brows are furrowed on top of filled-in eyes, making him look deranged. Henry studies the way the man’s expression has been drawn because how could a witness describe the angry look in his eyes if he never approached him, especially if his face is covered and it had been dark outside? Henry wonders if this sketch will also be printed in the Western Observer, or if it already has been included in today’s edition. Surely, they must have because this is the biggest news story to hit the city since the railroad workers’ strike during the last war. Nobody’s going to bother with reading Henry’s column about the church’s fundraiser and bake sale when they can read the exhilarating update about the outlaw from the Southwest. He doesn’t blame anyone for wanting to skip his piece because it doesn’t compare to the increased fear about this criminal that could be heading their way. Henry doesn’t want to be a columnist anyway, but at the time it had been the only job available for the paper once he’d been granted entry into American territory. One day he hopes that he’ll be able to impress his boss enough so he can become a featured journalist and write and report on more newsworthy material that giving his short personal thoughts on things happening in the city or the surrounding farmlands. He doesn’t necessarily wish to be a reporter on politics and international affairs – partly because he has come to America from a different country and he will not tarnish his homeland just to please other people. He wants to travel and write about all the places he’s been, or maybe become an investigative journalist – just something with a sense of adventure.

Here’s the bonus share of the inspiration board with the fic’s title! I’m aiming for this week, or Monday at the latest to start!! If you'd like to be tagged when I publish his to AO3, let me know!

I know you've been tagged alreadt @priincebutt but you're also someone who always tags me and I also always appreciate when you do! This tag is always open and I will be checking in with everyone's posts shortly!

#firstprince #wip #wip wednesday #firstprince fic #rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince fanfic #firstprince au #current wip #wip update #outlaw alex #columnist henry #journalist henry

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court-jobi · 1 year

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Just Be Gentle

Pairing: Paz Viszla x reader (fem!reader, 'Songbird' for the use in the fic)

Words: 3,589

Rating: Teen+

Warnings: post-mission, light banter, mutual pining, mild!grumpy/sunshine, FLUFF, tender touching, teaching self-care, injury care, washing up- (not spicy yet, sorry loves) cuddles if you squint

Summary: He is a Cornerstone in his own right. The moment the Hunter dropped her off to him, she knew instantly by the reactions of everyone around her that this was a leader they respected, followed into the grittiest of scraps, because he’s the man with the biggest gun and equal fire. They call him Al’orad, their Top gunman, and always, brother. And brothers, well– he sure fought to protect them as only family would.

Paz Vizsla is the storm itself. Only now, it seems he got caught in the crosshairs and succumbed to the hurricane of the skirmish. It didn’t worry him, he’s patched up his own scrapes before.An immovable Mandalorian he may be, but she his Songbird– gentle soul who’d sooner see to his wounds herself than watch him treat himself so roughly any longer.

A/N: Special thanks to @newpathwrites for the original ask! Here's to you~ The response to my Paz thoughts inspired me to finish this one out the rest of the way, and was a joy to write. If you're like me and still reeling from the episode which must not be named, then you'll be glad to know PAZ LIVES ON IN FIC! This was written in third person as a practice for me, but please put yourself in Songbird's shoes in whatever race, kind or creed you claim. It's a big galazy, so imagine along with me~ edit: @newpath3432!

For my Star Wars | Mandalorian Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on A03

She could tell by the slight limp: Big Blue was hurt. He walked the earth with a strong presence, and now that presence hobbled with a case of the hiccups. It would be funny, if it weren’t stemming from a place of clear pain. Wouldn’t be caught dead admitting it, but he can’t avoid the obvious.

When he started walking into a lean towards the pillar in the dank entrance to the covert, she walked even faster. The heavy artillery strapped to his back in coils was slipping. Speeding up to a light jog, she caught him fast by the elbow– flitted past the other sentries like the little Songbird she is, straight to his side to corral him by the arm.

"THeRe you are.."

Her name flowed off his tongue when he realized she’d snuck up on him; not that the Mandalorian ever really used it. By the way she’d been caught humming at all hours of the day and night, she’d come to earn the nickname ‘Songbird’ around the dank halls of Nevarro’s underground lava flats.

There’s barely a point trying to hide someone as tall, broad, and vast as him; as her blue-armored warrior claims the attention of everyone in any room he enters… but perhaps for just a minute, she could manhandle his form so that he’d blend into the support column on the other side. To keep him behind it, and out of sight for only a quick once-over.

He is a Cornerstone in his own right. Both a buoy in the sea and a lighthouse on a hill. The moment the Hunter dropped her off to him, she knew instantly by the reactions of everyone around her that this was a leader they respected and would gather arms with him into the grittiest of scraps. They call him Al’orad, their Top gunman, and always, brother. ‘You couldn’t be in better hands,’ the one she’d later call Din Djarin had said:

Paz Vizsla is the storm itself and brings the fire befitting a Mandalorian. Only now, it seems some of the fire has caught him.

He halted at her first call to him, yet followed into her tug willingly. A testament to their unexpected orbit; Paz found himself biting his tongue and falling into her draw whenever she sought him out even though he’s twice her size– just as she could pick his boisterous call out of a crowd and would come to stand alongside him as if no one were watching. For her, stepping out under everyone’s helmeted attention took an uncharacteristic flare of courage- one that Paz brought out in her.

Under the arch, the Alor’ad was quite literally pulled from the roster of tasks in his mind to her will. That stern look in her usually tender eyes siphoned his full attention. How they never failed to stare right where his would be.

Paz greeted her with his immediate sense of concern.

"--shouldn't you be inside?" he braced an arm against the pillar ledge, relaxed.

"Shouldn't you be in the med tent?" Her eyes flickered across him: around his belt, to holster, and up again.

"I'm just fine."

"Paz."

He pressed a hand over hers, where she’d gripped the lip of his chest plate. "I will go when the others are seen to.”

“You need to be seen to!”

“Our healers are few; they’re overwhelmed.” Paz’s firm words -though delivered peaceably- commanded this conversation. “Those who suffered entry wounds receive attention first. My injuries are not urgent."

"You're limping; I could see it a mile away, and that's no good to anyone if you're ignoring your own problems,” she stressed again, “Play ‘Mr. Defender’ to your tribe all you want, but you’re fooling yourself if you think you can serve them at your best in this shape..."

He paused, looking back to her again and winced internally at the level of quiet care she was pleading to him.

"In my experience, I know you Mandos tend to shrug off anything short of a lost limb when it comes to pain,” Songbird’s a natural at this; making a case. She spoke her peace with a rein on her temper. “I'd prefer to see it not get to that point. You're no exception… and you're the strongest one I know." she admitted.

Against impropriety’s warning bells in his bucket, Paz cupped her cheek, mindful of the rough leather to not irritate her. It’s indulgent, but he risks it.

"I'll be there soon,” he promises, “I give you my word, if you'll believe it."

"I want to, Blue," she offered with a gentle warning.

"Then keep me accountable. You’ll find me sitting in that alcove in ten minutes. If I'm not..." His head quirked with a little show of amusement, "You have my permission to drag me by my shebs there."

Sure enough, he did– true to his word, once his offloading task was completed.

The covert’s Song remained under the awning of the covert’s med tent in the karyai as she watched Paz’s still-armored self being seen and treated on the left triage station. There she waited for him, until he reemerged with a hand to her shoulder in greeting. She squeezed it, asked if he was good to go, and he was all too ready to agree to some downtime. To seal the deal, she offered an arm around his back and he willingly outstretched his across her shoulders.

It would be pointless to assume she’s honestly bearing any weight, but her offer to help was received kindly, as if he did. Then again, the way Paz spoke of her to the others in his faction, she knew he believed her capable of heart.

Then, with every grace like a nesting dove, she moved independently in his space like it was second nature, despite her only having been here one or two other times as emergency demanded it. A sealed bacta patch had been applied to the slope of his neck on one side, but after inspection, they’d hardly cleaned him up much. She'd located clean handcloths and a pitcher since they were ready and prepared at a moment’s notice on Paz's galley counter.

The question of what the case for water was at the front table lingered at her tongue, but it left her completely as she heard Paz grunt on sitting, one leg extended further than the other. He busied himself with smaller huffs of effort trying to get his armor off.

"Do you need help?" She offered gently, not wanting to coddle the grown man before her.

“M’fine. It's-- (ah) tricky, anyway. Faster if I do it."

But even as he turned to wince and release the back plate with no success, she’d stepped over to him and released the clasp with a few well-placed fingertips. It unlocked easily and loosened into his lap. He turned a bit -until the woman he’d come to adore came into his visor’s view- to see a smile finally eased across her features.

"I've watched Djarin work it enough times, I could wear a kit myself. May I?"

Just the sound of that one word alone sunk a ballast into Paz's stomach worse than the fight did. Not even the clan he was folded into–she knew his first. His low tone shared such, though she took it as tiredness at first,

"You know his name."

"Hm? Oh, yes! I do know," she piped up. "It was the two of us drifting out on the Belt for so long, I think he took pity on me. Only so many times I would say 'hey you' before he felt bad for me, I think. Just calling him ‘Mando’ like everyone else seemed odd after a while– especially since he said I’d be meeting more soon; even that was never going to last as a nickname around a covert of them."

Paz only hummed. The clear picture of familiarity came to mind, how their months were spent in the time before him buzzed around his jealous thoughts uncomfortably. That nasty inkling of jealousy seeped into her sharing of stories of him.

But her lightness never wavered as she kept speaking–she simply moved her way to take care of his shoulder pauldrons next.

"--but he did tell me that's not the case everywhere, telling a non-mandalorian their name... He asked for discretion, so I never speak it around anyone else. Said it was fine here though, that you would call each other by clan name or given, so. Uhm.. where do you keep these?"

Paz turned to see her cradling one piece under each arm, one contoured to her breast, and the other gently in the crook of her elbow - hands full with the inner paddings of both. He leaned forward a touch, drew up a bottle of some solvent from the crate nearest him, and squirted some into the basin of water.

"In there is fine.."

She emptied her arms, and noticing he made no move to continue disarmoring himself, she kept going in his stead. She imagined he'd probably never had someone tasked to do this for him, and perhaps enjoyed the doting behind closed doors.

"Secret ingredient?" Song pried.

"It's an old recipe; cleans the armor without stripping it." He leaned back to where he was before, widening his legs for her to step between if she needed. “The alchemical reaction requires a tub to dilute the concentrate. Too strong and potent on its own, it would oxidize on contact without water."

“You’re on the wrong planet for that.” She grimaced with a jerk towards the window, the lava flats beyond.

“All the more reason for us to keep sentries by the reserve tanks. It is precious.”

Huffing a bit, she chuckled. "I can tell. oof- but that smell would be strong on a ship."

He hummed back to agree, and in a rare show of comfort as the weight of beskar was taken from him piece by loving piece, spoke, "...You're good at this."

She shrugged, a little tone in her voice.

"Yeah, Din came back half dead after a run-in with a pack of Trandoshans on Ord Mantell, so that was a trial by fire I won't forget. I had to do it all myself. He could barely talk, his concussion was so bad- oh gods, I was terrified the whole time, because I knew I needed to check to see if any bits were cutting into him between the plates. But also figured because of the Creed, I thought he might have to kill me once I was done. Had to weigh the options for a sec, but really, he was too passed out to notice. When he woke up the next day he was mortified, poor baby.. Felt bad that I had to manage on my own, but he didn't care at all that I had seen actual skin."

Her eyes twinkled and she smirked at what happened next.

"I told him I was flattered of course, but I wouldn't have peeked.. if for no other reason, then out of respect for that sweetheart he's got on Sorgan."

–And thank the MAKER for that sweetheart on Sorgan.

But rather than scream his relief, Paz laughed it out to cover up his anxious nerves.

"Sorgan, huh? Isn't that planet just a bunch of fishing holes?"

“Farms of them, apparently.” His elbows were now exposed, and next, the vambraces.

“So Djarin was wooed.. by a farmer.”

"Mhm," she removed the second, slipping out the lining and gloves to wash. "Widowed, with a cute little daughter who has eyes for the nugget- sweet guy was done for. She started leaving him his meals out for him on a hot plate the first night, so he wouldn't have to eat it cold. He still denies it," she rolled her eyes, "--but he said if he had the chance, he'd love to 'teach the little ones how to hunt one day’. Tell them more stories since so much has happened since we last stopped there. He'd make a good retiree. Deserves someone like her."

She seemed full of nothing but pride as she spoke. However, soon the sentimental coles turned impressed.

"And hell, she's a real catch if her shot is any indication. No wonder he was so gone on her. So... Who knows?"

She busied herself with turning the gloves back inside out to wash and knelt to start on his boots, but froze looking up when Paz asked,

"And you? Anyone else on Sorgan?"

"No. Not into farmers." she didn't look up, but shrugged, "Nothing Sorgan could offer me." She leveled out her mouth oddly, “...Might find it here, though."

"Is that so?"

"mhm..." She finished loosening one and yanked it off with a little give before moving to the hurt one, more carefully.

"If I can get 'im to quit getting banged up," she groused adorably, "maybe, just maybe I might find a Mandalorian to put up with me long enough…."

Attentive as always, Song remained mindful of his breathing to ensure she wasn't jostling too much.

"Might have to learn how to shoot better though. Those weapons are everything to you. I doubt anyone around here would take on a civvie like me as I am." She looked up and leaned into deprecating humor with a shy look. "M'not exactly the strongest either even though I’m light on the feet. That won’t do much good around here.. And I have a pretty bad mouth to get myself in trouble enough as it is."

This worry under the surface– not unlike a turtleduck spending its days furiously pedaling under the water, but looking ever too graceful on the surface. Naturally, the covert’s Songbird herself made counting her faults look like preening.

Paz chuckled.

"That's hardly a bad thing." He eased her worries. "Shooting can be taught. It's things like that ‘smart mouth’ that draw someone in. Catch someone's eye and ear."

How dare her heart give her that much hope…

"Y'think so?" She loosened his knee braces, doing her best not to ogle the strength of his legs in such close proximity. Surely he’s being too kind.

"I listened to you, didn't I? The list of those who can manage that feat is very short– ask anyone here…”

This seemed to humor her at least, if not outright pleasing her, and she shuffled back up to her feet, taking the cloth he'd been wiping his hands with and taking it with the dirty clothes.

He'd shed his shirt too in the space while she talked-- and she hid her surprise the moment her back turned and her ears burned with the sight.

Thick arms matched his thicker-than-durasteel legs, and strong ones– they’re downright gorgeous like the rest of him… but when she looked back, a tremor of panic surfaced, seeing how rough he was wiping along his patches from the nurses station, and she hurried back to his side right away to remedy that,

"--hey, easy!"

Paz looked up with surprised and she second guessed her urgency, coming back calmer.

"Y’just-” the poor thing braved a word of careful guidance, “You shouldn't be so rough, when the edges are still healing.."

Although intimidated by his size and what foul response he may have for being chastised, Paz surprised her with a simple 'by all means' and surrendered the cloth. She dampened it, and dutifully stood before him again.

To her surprise, Paz patted his leg and prompted her to sit: just as she had by the fire.

Yet while she took the spot, she didn't fall into his arms with the same comfort as that night a few weeks back. A wine-drunk flirty version of herself sunk into the embrace of her protector to chat him up, at his invitation. She’d not even been that nervous then, or even days after when they’d both been sober. There was a shortage of chairs in one of the meeting rooms, one glance turned to another, and he patted his leg in just the same way. She’d hardly shied away from his attention– enjoyed it, actually, to the point of craving. The top-of-the-line thermal compression pajamas she’d seen spread around on all the midwinter advertisements around the market could never warm her through like he could. She’s ruined for life if this trend turns into a habit…

But this was hardly the time for a cozy rendezvous– not while he was hurting.

Unaware of any of these inner ramblings, Paz laid a hand on her waist to train her to relax anyway. His free hand simply held her to his lap, thumbing along her far thigh. To ensure she didn't slip, of course.

Starborne’s Grace and Favor… this man is a delight for the eyes. For a man brimming with muscles, the cushioned fat layer made Paz quite comfortable– and quite the sight with blossoming tattoos along his chest and ribs.

While she set to cleaning the remaining blood the nurses missed first, Song also freshened the cloth, waving it a bit to introduce cool air, and dabbed off his collarbones and along either side of his neck, swiping along where his lean indicated.

Gods it felt good. He'd be asleep in minutes if she kept this up. Paz bit his tongue to keep from moaning outright.

Attention trained towards his comfort, the Songbird asked softly, "You must be hot under there."

His words slurred a tad in response, "I'm used to it."

She frowned a little but just tipped the chin of his helmet up just a touch, wiping up his throat to catch some sweat. She was interested to find dark, auburn stubble to hint at a full beard under the seal, but evaded from peeking too much and jerked her sights up to his visor instead.

"I don't say that to pry about what's under there, but I'd reckon to say a beard does make it warmer y'know…"

"I count on it during the cold seasons here." He murmured just as low as the first time, tilting whichever way she wanted. She could feel his true voice hum along his throat by the bob of his Adams apple. " I didn't plan on going to a damn swamp for the last week, or else I woulda shaved it."

"Poor thing." She mimicked, caressing the back of his neck. She spaced out at some point over him as she worked along his shoulders and passed the hand towel back and forth, registering only through touch how warm he felt beneath her. Warm and pliant and dangerously close to stealing her heart away and ruining her for other men…

It felt incredibly good, but Paz had half a guilty heart; she must be getting tired. The helm faced her head on,

"You don't have to do all that..." he cupped the fleshy inner part of her palm with utmost care– care that he typically never treated himself with.

"I want to.” she hummed back easily. “You deserve it.”

At his encouragement, she swept broader strokes down his back and up again with one hand, bracing on his shoulder with the other. It was so contoured, sweeping hills of strength along his spine where muscles built up over years of use. A landscape worthy of some special attention.

Paz just sat there –calm on the exterior, but a swirling pool of doubt and bewilderment, and unworthiness weighting down his chest into heavy breaths. This girl was making him into mush by the minute.

"How's that. Better?"

The helmet nodded back and its voice hummed a little.

He’s growing more in love by the minute, too. Just keep talking, sweet sparrow.

She sat back and propped up in his lap, crossing her ankles.

"I can warm up that food if you want; or you can shower up and I'll have it inside for you before I go."

His hand caught hers, "--You don't have to go."

"Not even so you can eat?" She clarified, curiously.

"I can wait on that. You..." He tipped the helmet down so their joined hands were in view. "...Food can wait."

The Paz Vizsla was holding her hands in both of his now, and she let him. These hands– the ones that made it their mission to treat him kindly when little mercies in this galaxy ever did…

She smiled, even though he was hardly watching: his big blue helmet is trained on feeling how soft hers must be by comparison. She’s finding it adorable that the big, strong Mandalorian seemed fascinated by her hands of all things. Song couldn't imagine she was the first girl to be perched on his lap like this, but by the way he rubbed over her like something precious, she secretly hoped she could be the last.

" ‘Food can wait.’ “ she repeated in a tease, “Since when would any fiery Mandalorian say such a lie– stalling a meal just because you found a little bird on your lap, huh? You want me to start singing for you next?"

Nudged from his trance, the visor lifted to her again making him lean back more comfortably,

"I wouldn't say no to that." Paz flirted right back.

With outstretched legs once more, Paz brought one up to be elevated as advised while guiding her in by her waist to relax in his lap again and take a break herself.

The Songbird followed his lead this time– and resumed her trademark humming with the knowledge of a job well done.

#paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you #paz vizsla x oc #big blue mando #the mandalorain #welcome to the haitus #the mandalorian fanfic #star wars fanfiction #paz viszla #paz vizsla

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wishing-stones · 8 months

Text

Updates

Apologies for the lack of updates on any R&R content lately, the brain does not want to do it LMAO

Instead, I've started work on another multi-chapter fic: Ready Aim Fire (With... punctuation in the title pending)

This would be the Star Sanses x Paintball Reader fic. I've gotten a few chapters written, but unlike R&R, RAF has a beta. Should help with continuity errors and the like. I won't be posting any of it until it's been gone over.

I'm not abandoning R&R, but I'm having difficulty getting started on the content I want to write for it. Nothing good comes out of what gets forced, so I'm directing my creative energies elsewhere.

Additionally, my workstation has been moved. I do the vast majority (98% or better) of my writing at work because the lulls in responsibilities and tasks are often wide and boring. Without real consultation, my station was moved out into the open a little more (where I previously sat in a corner specialized for my job) with the manager occasionally sitting over my shoulder.

Feeling like I'm being babysat does not help my creativity in the slightest, and I feel like I have to kind of... hunch over to be able to write anything without someone reading over my shoulder. Even writing the most innocuous of things, I haaatteee people reading over my shoulder. It's already happened once at this job (I was editing a site page at the time) and I really don't want it to happen again.

Fortunately, the manager both isn't here very often, and doesn't like the setup. I'm hoping this is a very temporary thing. My back is also to the office printer, so I have a pretty steady stream of people behind my desk a lot. That isn't new, but it's more difficult to handle now than it was before.

Also contributing to my lack of ability to make anything is the somewhat unfortunate complete-attention-grab of Baldur's Gate 3, since my partner and I got it on our PS5 to play couch co-op. BG3 has my brain in a chokehold LMAO. I'm trying to evenly split hyperfixation between my projects and the new fandom/special interest, but BG3 is winning that LOL

Also, the domesticity of the first half of RAF is not as exciting for me to write. I'm struggling through a chapter because there's nothing really going on. Still have to make it engaging without dragging ass, so I've rewritten six paragraphs already. I also have to work with a couple of characters I'm not as practiced in writing, and I'm trying to do that well. (Neither of whom were in R&R, for the record.)

I've seen a couple of things for R&R floating around in the wild (ie, not shown directly to me; either I saw it in passing, or friends showed it to me) and it's absolutely mind-boggling that my work is as inspiring as it is, and that people talk about me without talking to me. It almost doesn't feel real. Thank you guys.

Speaking of R&R, I haven't done a proper promotion for this, and it's a crime:

If you enjoyed R&R, especially from a character interaction standpoint, you will absolutely love Rubble&Ramparts by Hiddenshadowwolf on Ao3

Here's a link

The story's premise is: what if the events of Chapter 20 didn't go so smoothly? If everyone got injured in the fight, not just Ren and Dust. What would happen if Baggs was in over his head trying to make sure everyone survives? The answer is to accost a nurse from a very mundane AU to help out, but... there's more to her than meets the eye.

Ru&Ra follows Alexis, a nurse, as she navigates the prickly personalities of Nightmare's crew, discovers and learns about magic, and becomes entangled in the complex web of events that follow xGaster's attack.

Every new chapter is a wonderful treat and an absolute goldmine of characterization and study. You can feel the love and effort put into it.

If you're over there chewing the walls waiting for content from me, go read this, it'll scratch the itch very effectively.

For now, I'll happily take continued questions about the fics, the casts, and the characters. You can ask about RAF, but some things might get a very vague answer if they're spoilery.

Thanks guys!

#k talks #fic nonsense #r&r(r&r)#raf fic #ru&ra #reminded of that “handle your stuff like it's a press release” post

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kylekirkwoods · 24 days

Note

‘If you have questions the asks are open’ you know what I’m about to ask about o7, beautiful woman and her man who has never combed his hair. Or tbh any of your other wips I like hearing people talk about their wips :3c

(I was half tempted to just dm you but you said asks so ask it is >:))

erika, you've given me the amazing opportunity to rant about my wips/fics so i am going to utilize it. i'll tell you about the beautiful woman and her man who has never combed his hair first, and everything else below the cut (for context, here is that wip summary poll). :DDDDDD

beautiful woman and her man who has never combed his hair this is my wag au for the fest!!!! i have talked to many a friend (including you) about this wip, and everyone seems to be very excited which i am happy about :)) basically, it's loscar with trans girl logan as the wag. they're very sweet and in love and it is simultaneously annoying and adorable to all of their friends. the main cast also includes max fewtrell (my beloved) as oscar's teammate at mclaren, lando norris as logan's bestie and max's wag, fred vesti as the most amazing supportive friend anyone could ask for, and a few other things that i am still working out (lawnsonoda is a very real thing that may or may not be included in this fic). i plan for it to be a semi linear narrative, by having the 2023 f1 season as the main thing but with flashbacks, social media, and other things sprinkled throughout. you have seen some of my outrageous planning and this will be a behemoth when i am done. i'm so excited!!!!!

gatekeep, gaslight, girlboss, george russell <3 imagine with me: george russell was born georgiana russell. so she's like if irl george was 50 times more neurotic and worried about what people thought of her. it will also be secret relationship gax (gasp... tuser gaxpodium writing gax... crazy...) and overprotective girl dad toto.

can the ghost of enzo ferrari fix my relationship? catholicism and being italian go hand in hand, so we're translating that religious fervor into f1. teams have a patron god (usually someone important to that brand or team) and surprise surprise, enzo ferrari is the patron god of the scuderia ferrari f1 team. your fealty and worship to your patron god will greatly impact your race results. this is angst central, with deeply heavy lore, so it will take me a while. and it focuses mainly on sewis and charlos (and how they deal with the whole "ferrari chewed me up and spit me out and you're still worshiping him" thing)

first a fan, then a teammate, then things got really mushy anyone else deeply impacted by leaf's dando video edit to "love of my life" by harry styles? no, only me? but i'm serious, this is entirely based on my visceral and life-changing reaction to that video. it changed me as a person...

uptight british bitch versus kind-of-rude dutch dickhead actually the first bit of rpf i ever wrote. it started as an assignment for my fiction 1 class (crazy...) and will probably be pretty short when i actually post it (no more than 10k words probably). it's a two part canon compliant gax fic, one part from george's perspective and one from max's. there's not much to say about this one since there's very little planning for it lol

what if three guys were in love but they were all stupid about it? it's geochalex. i feel like this should be obvious for me, but the three guys who are stupid and in love? geochalex. my notes rn for this fic mainly consist of the words "geochalex miscommunication!!!!!!!" so like yeah, that's the stupid right there

there are a few other wips/ideas that i forgot about when making the poll including a chalex apocalypse au that is inspired by the last of us (and also written for my fiction 1 class)

#*g.ask #alpinelogy #erika💖#rpf #hehehe read my writing ideas >:)))))

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robo-cryptid · 1 year

Note

What are some common writing mistakes you see in fic that are easily remediable? (also, i love your writing a lot & it has inspired me to start writing as well, sending much love!)

Starting from the bottom because THANK YOU. Inspiring other people to start creating too is probably the best compliment a writer can get. ;o;

As for "mistakes," I don't know if I'm qualified to answer, lol, but I guess one thing I see a lot (and deal with when I'm writing too!) would be using more words than you need. I talk about this a lot, but I don't think I've ever gotten specific about what I mean, so here we go. This answer got pretty long!

The first way I see this is in the "turned and went" category. I was betaing for someone who wanted me to help with pacing specifically, and we figured out together that what made it feel slow and stilted was that every few sentences, they'd use "he turned and went..." or "she stood and walked..." or something like that. You just don't need both verbs. Your readers will know that if the character was sitting and now they're walking, at some point they also stood up.

I also see a lot of overuse of modifying words. "Really," "somewhat," "a bit," etc. The banes of my personal existence are "just" and "a little." I have the words "just" and "a little" in my editing list so that I do a search and delete most instances of them before I post a fic, lol. It's a writing tic that I can't get rid of. A lot of these modifiers are unnecessary 99% of the time, and they clog up sentences so they take longer to read for no good reason.

Next would be over-describing. Sometimes you get into a fic, and the first thing you get is an immediate description of what a character looks like. Because it's fanfic, it's probably a character we've met before, so it's not strictly necessary to include at all. But sure, maybe your POV character is cataloging some details when they first meet. That happens, and it can be an easy way to imply some attraction if this is a romance. Still, they're probably not going to make a laundry list, like, "his hair was black and pulled back with one strand that hung in his face, and he had big brown eyes and a bold nose and great cheekbones, and he had a goatee, and now here's the full detailed list of everything he was wearing too." We also don't need to know every single object that's in a room, or what the journey from one place to another looks like, or the "hello, how are you?" parts of a conversation before they get to the meat of it, or where every person is standing if it's a whole group, etc. You only need enough details to ground your readers, and the details your POV character is most likely to notice. For example, I remain obsessed with Hanzo's huge, expressive eyes in the "Dragons" short, and also I'm just partial to brown eyes, lol, so I often have Cassidy notice their color and maybe that Hanzo's really muscular or something. But I don't give you a rundown of every detail of his face all at once, and you probably only get a quick sense of what he's wearing. Obviously, this is not a hard and fast rule. If your character is especially observant or obsessively detailed or something, having them do this can be a way of showing that. For some people, maybe they want the setting to feel like a character itself, so you'll get a lot more description to get people to really know the place. But in general, most of the time, you only need a quick handful of descriptors and you're good to go.

The other type of over-describing would be microinteractions. Fandom lives and breathes these things. This is probably the one I struggle with the most, too, lol. Fanfic writers give us every minor piece of body language in a conversation, and honestly, that can be fun to read and fun to write, but it can also get tedious fast. Do readers really need to know every time someone sighs? Probably not! In fact, a lot of them are skimming past those details altogether, lol.

I'm of the opinion generally that a desire to over-describe everything from characters' interactions to setting to clothing, and using a ton of words in the prose, is actually us as writers trying to control the readers' experience. Like we don't trust them to "get it" or have imaginations of their own, so we're micromanaging every detail. Not only does this not work (I have had readers who did not understand something I took pains to make extremely clear, and readers who picked up on subtle stuff I barely hinted at), but it's also a pain for you and the reader.

You have to know readers' experiences of your writing are going to be different than you intend. It doesn't make you a bad writer or communicator; it means readers aren't passive sponges, but actively bring their own interpretations, backgrounds, and baggage to what they read. You have to trust that most of the time most of your readers will get it and even enjoy filling in some details themselves, and you have to let go of that desire for control.

Anyway, my final piece of advice on this is that if you're worried about any of these issues, challenge yourself to trim as many words as possible from your fic. (You can paste it to a new document so you don't have to lose the old one!) Seriously, delete things until you're afraid the structural integrity is about to crumble. Then see how much of your fic still makes sense, and which parts might need some description put back in either for further clarity or simply for flavor. Learning to write to word maximums is, imo, as important as, if not more important than, learning to write lots of words.

#robo answers #anonymous #writing about writing #writing advice #long text post #'use fewer words' she says as she types the longest post of all

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redthreadoffate · 4 months

Text

the gift of communication

happy holidays to you, dear @citrus-cactus. i was your secret santa and i am very sorry this is so late. i was supposed to post this after one more check once i arrived but my parents told me that there was no need to bring my laptop, so here i am posting it using my ipad and i hope it still looks okay!

anyways, backstory aside, i do hope you enjoy this little thing i wrote! and i'm really sorry if this isn't what you had in mind. i had to re-watch some hurricane touchdown scenes to get wallace's character as good as i could, i would've watched the movie if i had the time so i super apologize if this isn't to your liking. i had a lot of fun writing it and i would really love to know your thoughts if you get the chance to give them :)

just a few notes in case you want to run ; editing mistakes here or there [there better not be…] // timeline is more on adventure 02 in between the ending and epilogue // this is not set in the same world as my other fics due to inspiration reasons // i will post this on ao3 soon // i tried my best to give the digimon feel and i think I achieved it, so…

…without further ado, i present to you this little fic. enjoy! have a merry christmas and a happy new year! 🥰

the gift of communication | main characters ; wallace, terriermon, lopmon, daisuke motomiya | pairings ; slight wallace x daisuke (if you squint), mentioned takeru x hikari, mentioned taichi x sora, mentioned yamato x mimi | genre ; friendship | word count ; 3,598 | rating ; g

Terriermon and Lopmon were enjoying the company of their fellow digimons. They told each other stories, laughed, and even played a little. At some point, they fell asleep next to each other after consuming most of the food and drinks that Miyako had brought for them for the day. Terriermon had his head rested against Chibimon who was snoring softly while Lopmon was a few inches away from them.

The Chosen Children were gathered around in a circle, sans Ken who had told them that he would be late but promised to come as soon as he could. He mentioned something about helping his mom with some gift-giving in an orphanage.

“So, Wallace,” Daisuke started, his head turned to him. “Since when did you like coming here to Japan?” It made him suspicious as he remembered that Wallace had kissed Hikari once. He kissed her cheek, and Miyako’s as well, but it was still a kiss. “Are you here for anyone in particular?” But Daisuke also knew he was in denial about the fact that Hikari and Takeru had had some sort of unspoken romantic feelings for one another. “I heard there are more women in New York.”

Wallace shrugged, simply ignoring Daisuke’s obvious accusations. “It’s a nice place to be in during the holidays. The spirit of Christmas is really taken seriously. Back in New York, people tend to be busy and get caught up with one another.”

“Looks like New York isn’t as cool as people say it is,” Iori said. “I’ve always thought it was a white Christmas there.”

Wallace nodded. “It sounds nice and it looks nice when you see it on tv and the movies but it isn’t spectacular or anything.”

“Nothing for you is ever spectacular,” Daisuke muttered. This made Hikari nudge him without much force and in turn made Takeru chuckle. “Either way, I’m glad you're here, Wallace. It’s been a while and I actually do miss you.”

Wallace’s eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. “You miss me?” he echoed. For him, that was a first for someone. “You. Miss me? You?”

“Am I not allowed to?” Daisuke raised an eyebrow.

Wallace smirked.

Daisuke narrowed his eyes. “Don’t push it.”

Miyako laughed. “Don’t mind him, Daisuke. It’s just Wallace being Wallace.”

“You don’t know much about me,” the American-raised boy defended. It was an absolute surprise to hear that from someone he had not had much interaction with in a while. “How could you say that?”

“We know enough,” Takeru spoke. “Like how you consider us as your friends. After all, you accepted our invitation to this gathering.”

Wallace did not reply. His mind was wondering how this group of friends suddenly thought that they were somehow close. It was not as if he did not like the group, he liked them a lot, especially after they helped him with Kokomon. But he needed to figure out how to handle this.

Hikari smiled at him. “Onee-san is throwing a surprise birthday party for Sora-san the day after tomorrow. You should go, it’d be really fun. We’ll be there, and I’m sure Terriermon and Lopmon would enjoy the company of being with more of their friends.”

“I’ll think about it,” he replied, still a little lost in thought. This invitation to her future sister-in-law’s surprise birthday party was, for him, a big step. He had not known much about them, yet they were thinking highly of him here.

What went into his head when he called Daisuke Motomiya yesterday to tell him that he was in the country, visiting for the holiday and seeing the sights with his mom.

He had called his home’s telephone, which made him feel anxious because he was not so sure what to say if it had been someone else who would answer. Luckily, it was Daisuke who took the call right away.

Was it because he was indebted? Because they helped him get Kokomon back? He did not think so, it could be more than that.

Just then, the door of Daisuke’s room opened and Ken appeared with Wormmom beside him. “I’m sorry for being late,” he said, bowing.

“Ken!” Miyako grinned. “The food’s almost gone, help yourself to what’s left, Wormmon.”

Ken chuckled nervously. “I’m sorry, Wormmon. I’m sure there’s still some good food somewhere there.”

“Of course! I always choose the best of the best,” Miyako said proudly.

Wallace watched as Ken walked from the door and sat down in between Miyako and Iori. They had briefed him of the former Digimon Kaiser. He felt the anger boil inside him as they told him the story, how could someone do that to digimons?

But they had assured him that Ken had changed and was very much on their side. He was a little skeptical, and truth be told he still was, but he told himself to watch out for Ken before he could make his final judgment.

“Hello,” Ken greeted. “You must be Wallace.”

He nodded. “Yeah. And you’re Ken, right? Ken Ichijouji?”

Ken nodded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, raising his hand.

Wallace blinked a few times before shaking his hand. “And it’s great to finally meet you.”

“Ken!” Wormmom called him. “This is Terriermon and Lopmon!”

The group all turned back. Ken had a smile on his face. “I hope Wormmon treats you well.”

“Hey!”

Everyone laughed.

Iori said, “Try the new chocolate drink, Wormmon. I told Armadimon to hide one for you.”

“Here it is!” Armadimon held up the box.

“Thank you, Iori and Armadimon,” Wormmon said happily as he began to consume the drink.

Wallace watched as they looked at the worm-like digimon drink. Despite what had happened before, they welcomed Ken with open arms. It might take a while but he hoped he would fully forgive Ken and replace the thought of the poor digimons with happier faces. It sounded easier in thought but perhaps interacting with him more will be good for them both.

“This is so good, Miyako!” Wormmon exclaimed. He then dug into some snacks. “It's a good thing I didn’t eat before coming here.”

Wallace laughed. “That’s true, the food you brought really did make me feel full.”

Miyako grinned again. “I told you all! Wallace does like Japanese food.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll like the food that will be prepared for the party,” Hikari stated, smiling. “Please come.”

“I’ll think about it,” he repeated. But to be honest, he was very keen on going. “I’ll have to ask Terriermon and Lopmon first,” he added. “And my mom, of course.”

“Yes!” Terriermon and Lopmon shouted at the same time.

Hikari giggled. “I hope your mom says yes, Wallace.”

‘I hope so, too,’ he thought. He smiled at them. “Yeah, let’s see.”

On the way back to the hotel, Wallace carried Lopmon as Terriermon sat on his favorite spot, Wallace’s head. Wallace had not spoken to either of them as they walked. This did not go unnoticed by his digimon partners.

Both Terriermon and Lopmon were looking at their human partner, then they would look at each other, then back at Wallace, and then make eye contact again, and the cycle repeated a few more times before both sighed.

“What’s got you thinking?” Lopmon asked, looking up at his partner. He touched his cheek and patted it a few times. “You’ve been quiet since we left Daisuke’s house.” He tilted his head. “Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun, Wallace. I know you did, everyone could see it.”

Wallace sighed and looked down at the brown digimon. “I’m just wondering about the party they invited me to. Invited us to.”

“What about it?” Terriermon questioned. “You want to go, don’t you? I saw the way you smiled, you seem excited about it.”

“I do,” he admitted. “I do want to go and it does seem pretty exciting.” But as they left the Motomiya residence, he had a sudden reflection about the other Chosen Children. “But what about the others? I don’t know much about them, they don’t know much about me. I’ll feel left out.” He was never really scared of being alone, but he found this situation different. Maybe because they all had something in common. “I don’t think it’d be fun if that was the case.”

Terriermon and Lopmon looked at each other.

“We’re sure Daisuke won’t leave you alone,” Terriermon said. “And neither will the others.”

“You can’t be sure,” Wallace said.

“Sure we’re sure,” Lopmon said. “They like you, Wallace. They won’t let you feel left out. I’m sure they’ll even introduce you to the others.”

Wallace bit his bottom lip. “I’ll ask Mom if we can go. It won’t be until the day after tomorrow, I don’t think it’ll be too sudden.”

“And besides, your mom will be happy you have friends here,” Lopmon added and Terriermon nodded in agreement.

That made Wallace smile. “Yeah, I think she will be.”

“Cheer up, Wallace.” Terriermon smiled. “I’m sure everyone will be glad if you go.”

He nodded. “Let’s go ask Mom then.”

Both Terriermon and Lopmon grinned. “Yay!” they exclaimed.

“You two do seem so excited about this,” Wallace said, chuckling.

“We want to see you happy,” Lopmon told him. “And we’re glad that you have friends here.”

Wallace smiled and nodded. Then, it dawned on him that in a few days, before Christmas day, he would have to leave the country and head back to New York. He had not told them this—they had not asked—but he would have to soon and it made him feel sad knowing that he would leave them behind. “Just when things were brightening up,” he murmured.

“What was that?” the two digimons asked in unison. “What did you say?”

Wallace shook his head. “It’s not something I want to talk about right now, and I don’t want to think about it yet either. Let’s just enjoy the rest of our stay here while we can. Japan is a nice place, let’s not ruin the vacation. Okay?”

The two digimons looked at each other for a few seconds before nodding as they shifted their eyes to Wallace. “Okay.”

As Wallace and the twins expected, his mother was very happy that he had made friends. “I didn’t expect this,” she admitted.

“They’re the same friends I told you about before,” he said. “I…missed them.”

“Is that why you wanted to come here for the holiday?”

Wallace nodded slowly.

His mother grinned. “I’m glad you’re finally letting yourself out there.” Then she tilted her head. “But how did you find them?”

“I asked for help from Mimi-san,” he answered. “You remember her.”

“Oh yes, that pretty girl you met back home.” She smiled.

“She’s in a relationship,” he immediately said, knowing where that smile was headed.

She giggled. “Alright then. When is the party again?”

“The day after tomorrow,” he replied. “A lot of people will be there. My friends and their older brothers and their friends as well. And Terriermon and Lopmon’s friends, too.”

“My, isn’t that a big party,” his mother said. “And you don’t know the others?” Wallace shook his head. “You won’t feel out of place?” Again, he shook his head. “You won’t be in the corner alone?” He let out a soft chuckle before shaking his head once more. He was suddenly so sure, surprisingly, that he would not be left alone by the group. Terriermon and Lopmon really do have an effect on him. “But you’ll have fun, won’t you?”

“I will,” he assured. “I know I will.” He knew very well that he would have a lot of fun. ‘I know I will,’ he repeated in his head. ‘I know I will.’

“That’s good. That’s all I needed to hear.” His mom grinned. “So what’s the theme? What will you wear? We’ll need to make a good impression on them. I know how you can be, Wallace.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s like you have no faith in me.” His mother frowned. “I don’t know much. I’ll call Daisuke and ask for more information.”

“Okay. But remember to just tell me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

“Yes, Mom.” He smiled.”You’re just as excited as Terriermon and Lopmon.”

“We’re just very happy for you, Wallace.” His mother leaned to kiss his forehead. “My sweet boy, I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

When she straightened her body, she added, “I would very much like to meet your friends one day. Maybe invite them after the party. Perhaps the next day or the day after that?”

Wallace nodded. “Yeah, I’ll ask them. Will you be cooking?” He had always loved his mom’s cooking and was very proud of how others liked them as well.

“Of course, I need to make a good impression on them, too.”

They both laughed.

The day of the party had arrived and Wallace was quite nervous about it. He had kept himself composed and ready for the event the past day but he did not think about what would happen as he was on the way to the Takenouchi residence.

“Aren’t you excited?” Terriermon asked cheerily.

“I am!” Lopmon answered. “What about you, Wallace?”

Wallace put on a smile. “I am. I am excited. But I’m a little nervous, but I guess that’s a normal thing to feel when you’re about to meet a bunch of new people.”

Lopmon nodded. “Don’t worry, you’ve got us. We can leave anytime you want.”

“Thanks, guys.”

They continued to walk and then finally arrived at the condominium. As they entered, having made sure that Terriermon and Lopmon had returned to playing as stuffed animals, he walked to the receptionist and informed them that he was there for the surprise party in the apartment of the Takenouchis.

Just as the receptionist gave him the floor and room number, an unfamiliar voice called his name. “Wallace?”

He turned around and recognized the man in front of him. “Koushiro.”

The redhead smiled at him, his digimon partner in his arms. “That’s me.” He walked closer to Wallace and stopped just a few inches away from him. “Takeru-kun said you would come.”

“I was a little hesitant,” he lied, not wanting to sound too eager. “But I thought it would be fun to make new friends and, you know, hang out with them.”

“I’m glad you think so. I’m sure Taichi-san and the others would love to meet you. Mimi-chan is here already. I know you two are acquainted with one another.”

“Yes,” he said. “We met in New York one time, she recognized my partners.”

Koushiro nodded. “This is Tentomon.” Then he paused. “Let’s get going,” he said as he looked around the lobby. There were not many people but they still had to be careful.

The two, with their partners, rode the elevator going up. Wallace was getting a little more nervous now. He got a warm welcome from Koushiro, yes, but what about the others?

‘What’s got you hot and bothered by this, Wallace?’ he questioned himself. ‘This shouldn’t keep you on your toes.’

“They’re really nice,” Koushiro said, as if reading his mind. “My friends are really nice. You don’t have to worry about them. Not even Yamato-san can ruin your mood.”

“What do you mean?”

Koushiro smiled. “He’s been a handful before, but he’s become very mellow over the past few years. He smiles a lot more, too, ever since he started dating Mimi-chan.”

Wallace looked at him.

“I didn’t read your mind, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Koushiro added with a soft chuckle. “I just saw it in your body language.”

Wallace raised his eyebrows. He was always so calm, not once had he shown people his true thoughts and feelings. How did Koushiro know about this?

“I was like you before, back when I was young. Even before I met Taichi-san and the others. I hid myself behind my laptop, not once showing emotions. But when I started hanging out with them…it felt good, it felt nice. I felt like I belonged. That’s how great they are.” Koushiro looked at him. “Chosen Child or not, they’re nothing to be afraid of.”

Wallace grinned. “Thank you.”

They reached their floor and they quickly walked to the apartment. Not everyone was there yet but when Daisuke saw that Wallace had arrived, he grinned and walked over to him. “You came! You’re here!”

Terriermon and Lopmon grinned as well. “Are the others here, too?” Terriermon asked.

“Of course,” Daisuke answered. “They’re at the back.”

Terriermon and Lopmon leaped from Wallace’s arms and ran down the hallway.

“They’re excited,” Koushiro said as he let Tentomon fly away. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Wallace gave him a nod while Daisuke’s eyes followed Koushiro’s steps. When he was in the kitchen, Daisuke grabbed Wallace’s wrist and dragged him to the living room. “You have to meet Taichi-san!”

Wallace’s heartbeat raced. He was about to meet the highly talked about Taichi Yagami.

They stopped in front of a young man whom Wallace knew all too well just basing it on pictures. “Taichi-san!” Daisuke greeted. Taichi looked back and gave Daisuke a questioning look before looking at Wallace. “Taichi-san, this is Wallace.”

“Oh, so you’re the Wallace Hikari-chan talked about.” He raised his hand and said, “Taichi.”

“It’s so great to finally meet you.”

Meanwhile, in the background, they ignored Daisuke’s question about Hikari talking about Wallace to her older brother.

“Sora will be here soon, I suggest you find a place to hide. Daisuke can lead you around. I’ll get to know you more later, alright?”

Wallace nodded. “Okay.”

Daisuke narrowed his eyes. “Hikari-chan talks about you.”

Wallace could not help but laugh. “Let’s find a place now. As Taichi said, Sora will be here soon.”

The surprise party was a success. Sora arrived with her mom and was shocked to see her friends surrounding her and shouting “happy birthday”.

Sora’s eyes teared up but she was smiling from ear to ear. “And I wonder who came up with the idea,” she said, giggling.

Taichi went up to her and intertwined his fingers with hers. “Take a wild guess.”

She giggled some more and gave her fiancé a kiss and everyone clapped. Then, Sora went over to hug and thank everyone in the room, including Wallace.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” she said when she stopped over to hug and thank him. “I’ve heard good things about you.”

For some reason, that made Wallace’s cheek turn pink. “I hope so.”

Sora smiled.

The party was still in full swing—that is, everyone was chatting with each other and the food and drinks needed refilling—when Wallace headed over to the balcony for some fresh air. He was just overwhelmed with how friendly the others were, how they welcomed him with open arms, and how comfortable he was with them. He hated that he would be leaving soon.

He has instructed Terriermon and Lopmon to play with the other digimons as he wanted to be alone for a while. The twin digimons seemed to have sensed it as they did not object to the request.

Just then, someone stood beside him, holding up two drinks, and offering one to him. Wallace did not bother to look up as he took the cup, he was actually thirsty but was not yet ready to go back inside. “Thank you.”

“If you just want to stay silent that’s fine with me, but let me stay here with you for a bit.”

Wallace nodded. “The party’s a success.” He looked back at the gathering behind him and then back to the horizon. “Taichi really loves her.”

“He does,” Daisuke said. “They’re in love.”

“How are you and Hikari?”

Daisuke sighed. “I’ll give up soon enough. She and Takeru have a lot of stuff going on, going around each and all. They have a history. They have the present. And,” he paused. Wallace could see how heartbroken Daisuke was about this. “And they have a future.”

Wallace pursed his lips. “There’s someone else out for you, I promise.” He placed a hand on Daisuke’s shoulder and rubbed it. “I know it.”

Daisuke smiled. “Thanks, Wallace. You’re a good friend, you know that?” He raised his hand and rubbed Wallace’s shoulder. “I know Mimi-san is missing a lot.”

Wallace shook his head. “Why does everyone think I’m into Mimi?”

“Uh, because it’s obvious? The way you keep looking at her? The way Yamato-san looks as if he’s about to start a fight soon.”

Wallace felt like he was shrinking. “I didn’t notice.”

Daisuke laughed. “Anyway.” He regained his composure. “I don’t want to ask but it’s bound to happen. When are you leaving?”

“Three days from now,” he answered, his head bowed down. “I don’t wanna leave,” he admitted. “I’m…having a good time.”

Daisuke nodded. “Yeah, I know you are.”

They stayed quiet until Daisuke ended it by asking, “What do you want for Christmas?”

Wallace cocked his head to the side. “What?”

“What do you want for Christmas?” Daisuke repeated. “You’re leaving three days before Christmas Day and I want to give you something before we part ways.”

Wallace was silent. Then, he took out his phone and handed it over to the man in front of him. “Can you give me your email?”

“My email?” Daisuke echoed.

“Yeah,” Wallace nodded, “I’d really like it if we talked some more. Even when I’m back in the US, I want to be able to communicate with you guys properly.”

Daisuke grinned. “You read my mind.”

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heich0e · 9 months

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wait if you said that you're gonna stop the oopsy baby series 'for now' are you implying that you're gonna continue it at some point in the future or....? 🤨

I've gotten way more asks about this than I expected, and I won't reply to them all to spare your dash (since they mainly address the same things) but in the interest of transparency here are the highlights:

1. Are you going to continue the mini megumi series? /post any other parenthood fics?

I honestly don't know. I was going to add more to this reply but I've just been staring at the screen for like 10 minutes.

2. Why?

A couple of reasons, but if I'm being really honest I saw a lot of mutuals (who I sincerely like and respect, present tense) posting about how much they dislike parenthood/pregnancy fics and how sick they make them feel and it just didn't feel good.

I want to be really really clear that I TRULY and wholeheartedly believe that everyone is entitled to like what they like, and dislike what they dislike. But the problem is that when you express those opinions while disparaging the people whose opinion are different from yours, or if you choose to be vocal about your dislike of something when you see someone enjoying it, it can be really hurtful. It made me feel uncomfortable about continuing the series if I knew people felt that way and I was possibly upsetting them.

3. Is it because of the "exclusionary" ask?

No! This all happened before I received (or at least saw) that ask. And while I do completely and totally understand where that anon was coming from, and I support them 100% in sharing that very valid criticism with me, the fic probably wouldn't have changed because of it—though I would have started putting a tag in the updates alerting readers to the fact that Kota is described at multiple points throughout the story as being identical to Megumi in case it was sensitizing/alienating/in any way offensive to them.

The inspiration for the fic was that a child who is virtually identical to him shows up at his doorstep, and the entire series is predicated on that idea. I should have made that much clearer at the outset and I really apologize for my oversight and to anyone who I hurt by being careless in that way. I have since gone back and edited each instalment to feature a warning about this in the header, and hope that people who will feel excluded by this plot point can make whatever decision feels best for them in regards to engaging with the fic!

4. I don't like you.

Me neither.

5. I love parenthood fics and I think you should keep writing them.

I also like parenthood fics, and I think they're fun to write! And this is coming from someone who isn't even sure they ever want to have kids themselves. But sort of nodding back to point 2, I don't want to post any kind of fic that people who i consider friends begin vocally posting about disliking. Especially because I really don't follow that many people, so when every third post on my dash is dunking on the trope I'm actively posting about, it just makes me feel kind of sad and unwelcome.

This is absolutely NOT intended to be an indirect/vague about those moots, and if you're reading this I hope you know that I mean that from the BOTTOM of my heart. They are JUST as entitled to this space as I am, and I am in no way at all trying to impose myself and my opinions onto them. I just don't know how to filter anti-trope content from my user experience without inadvertently also filtering the content I DO want to see, and if I'm being honest I just don't think it's not worth losing mutuals who I really like over.

I'm saying all of this with nothing but love, and I hope that no one is too upset about it. I'm sorry if you were enjoying the series and now aren't sure about its future. I'm sorry if me expressing the way I was hurt makes you feel bad too. I'm really logging off now for a bit, and I hope you all take care of yourselves!! Be good, sending love, talk soon <3

#liv got mail #i apologize if i'm being dramatic! life is already hard and i just don't need to feel this way about a hobby!#kiss kiss kiss kiss #love u big #tw parenthood #tw pregnancy

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patronsaintofhomosandpain · 20 days

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🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate

🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told?

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?

🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises?

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

Hi hi thank you so much for all the emojis!! 🥰

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

Pffftt well, I've been "editing" my book for the past two years, so..... Joking aside, I would probably give it a solid 8. Nothing is as good as seeing all the hard work you've put in and then just giving it that extra little cherry on top!

Now, if you're asking me about spelling and grammar editing.... Don't.

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

🧛‍♂️🗡📓👻🏳️‍🌈

🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?

I've never written a reader insert but now yall got me thinking 😅

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

I have this weird thing where everyone thinks I look like someone else, and it's caused some pretty hilarious phenomenons. One time at the airport, a kid started screaming and crying because I waved at them. I still, to this day, have absolutely no idea who they thought I was ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?

So I have this fun little thing called ADHD...... But yeah, honestly, I'm incredibly chaotic, and while trying to keep up with the real-life stuff and all the distracting stuff and all the projects I got going...... Yeah, that's why I'm typically up until 2 am writing lol

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Yay another one!!!

Zukka (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Anytime Hakoda takes Sokka for some father-son bonding time, Sokka relentlessly insists Zuko come along. Zuko and Hakoda think he's just being a clingy boyfriend, but he just wants to show Zuko that he is deserving of love from a father figure and that Iroh isn't just doing it out of guilt.

(In turn, Iroh tags along from time to time, and their trips quickly go from family bonding to a dad joke battle)

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

Literally just come say hi!! I swear, contrary to popular lore, I don't bite!

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

I'm very lucky. Everyone in my family is doing great. Having this great opportunity to finish and publish my book. And I have great, supporting and loving friends 🖤

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?

"He was just one of this like shitty guitar players in a shitty band."

"And?"

"And he was in a punk band, and I did graffiti. Can I make it more obvious?"

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

I never finished Stranger Things' first season, I don't know that I even got through the first five episodes. I was so bored the whole time.

Bonus hot take; I had the exact opposite problem with The Walking Dead. Around season five, I got really bored.

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Guys, go Google New England Vampire Panic. Very interesting to read about, and also a good band name if you're from New England!

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

Even if you absolutely suck at it, if it's something you love, do it with all the confidence in the world, and you'll find your place.

+ Nobody's as confident as they claim. It's all a production. Fake it 'til you make it, but don't sell your soul over it.

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

So I've recently gotten into Baldur's Gate, and I just really fucking need Gale and Astarion on like a buddy cop mission where it's just absolute clown to clown communication. Gale being his waxing poetic self, and Astarion is far too emo and far too gay for this shit.

I don't know! I'm willing to bully all my friends until one of them picks it up or I just do it myself lol

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

Don't force it. If it's not coming to you take a break don't chase it! You'll only wear yourself out and hate what you did write.

Rome wasn't built in a day, but it sure burnt down in one. Remember that.

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Very specifically, "You're evil"

Muahahahahaha 😈

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate

Oh man, I don't think there's absolutely anything redeemable about that woman.

1.) Uhh, when she shuts up, she's cute ig.

2.) She's fun to write because I don't get to be pure evil a lot.

3.)................... She's kinda the gateway to one of my favorite characters?? 👀

🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told?

Here's a fun little fact about me, I'm brutally honest sometimes to the point of offense 😅 and I don't ever really have a need to lie.

That being said, I love randomly lying to strangers for literally no reason. Just recently, someone was being rude and interrupted my dinner with my family, so when they asked what I did for a living, I gave them a very detailed description of how I work in a morgue. I've never worked in a morgue a day in my life lol but it got them to leave me alone.

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately

Man, this might be too deep for tumblr, but it's that time of year again when I can't stop thinking about death and all that good stuff. I'll spare you guys the gritty details, though.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

"Look, when I moved out here, I got a mess in Oakland waiting for me, okay? My friend got all this shit and fucked this guy over and this crazy motherfucker showed up ate half my burger and killed a fucking guy. When the boss showed up, told me to get his wife outta there, I did and I ain't never been back. I got know idea what's waiting there for me."

"Hm, that's unfortunate," I crossed my arms, "Especially 'cause I watched it happen in Pulp Fiction with you last night!"

"Goddamn it."

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

So I answered the username part over here, so I'm going to answer about my pen name now!

I actually changed my pen name fairly recently to Gabryél Grimm-Goretz. Gabryél is actually part of my legal name 😅 and so I thought it would be cool to use it because i never get to use it day to day. I went with Grimm-Goretz to kinda represent my family and heritage in a way while also leaning into how my writing is typically grim and gory.

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

Whelp, we've got a nice handful of followers over here now, and unfortunately, I can't tag everyone. BUT I want to tell you all that you are appreciated. You are talented, and you are loved! Never let anyone tell you you're not good enough 'cause they're no better 🖤

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

Right here! uwu

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

I'm gonna be a little bit of a punk ass and tag myself here lol Link link link

I did this piece last year in celebration of one of my favorite band's new albums, and yeah! I just love it. It came out so good.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

When a narrator is like, "She smiled tit-ly, so deeply that her large pendulum breasts heaved, then jiggled tightly into her pink, completely see-through lace bra. Her breasts were no doubt expressing their own excitement." 🙄

For you 😌💞

#okay maybe thats a fucked up meme BUT I LOVE YOU ITS FINE #gabyrels grumbles #gaybi answers things #writeblr #writerscommunity #writerslife #writers #writers on tumblr #writerscorner #writing #writblr #writer things #book blog #miss may i

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