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#have I been on AO3 too long
justsomecouscous · 3 months
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'in my relationship I only want a guy who's 6ft and has muscles' this 'I want a girl who has a big ass and boobs' that
Nah FUCK that
I want someone to lovingly hold my face in their hands and look adoringly at me then kiss me while the fans scream and cry from happiness after waiting for 5 seasons and the old bitter white men to sit seething in their arm chairs
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coreene · 6 days
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Hello Rugan lovers- I have something for you!
It's 2k words of pure smut where Rugan and Tav do it up against that cave right after Tav saves him from the gnolls.
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Thank you @littleplasticrat for the beta! I fixed some stuff after her notes and any remaining mistakes are my own!
The name is purely @captainsigge and @dustdeepsea 's fault (ily)
I hope it is a worthy offering for Rugan fuckers 🥺👉👈
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milf-harrington · 1 year
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y'all gotta learn to like. be polite to writers- stop demanding part two's or demanding to be tagged if a part two happens - it might seem harmless but its really fucking annoying, especially to someone whos automatic response to having things demanded of them is "get fucked im not doing it"
most of the people asking to be tagged if i make a part two to that eddie-in-the-back-of-hoppers-car fic have been perfectly lovely about it, using language that doesnt imply theyre expecting anything but instead are hoping for it which is nice!! i find that stuff a little more motivating because it lets me know that people do want to read my work!!
but anyone whos only commented "part two" or "i need part two" or "tag me" with no accompanying message, keep activating my "fuck you" attitude which is frustrating for both me (who is actually somewhat keen to add onto it) and others (who are looking forward to a potential add-on)
i know no ones likely intending to be a dick or to be annoying but thats what it is - youre demanding the time and energy of someone who doesnt have a lot of that. I stress myself out enough with my own writing endeavours (*looking at the fantasy series ive been working on for 8 years*), i dont need strangers on the internet thinking they get to pressure me for content because they've mistaken it for a compliment
im not saying dont ask to be tagged in future parts, or dont ask for a part two - just be nice about it. remember that youre talking to an actual person who has a life outside of tumblr.
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lit-in-thy-heart · 8 months
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[ID: the train hitting a school bus meme. In the first panel, an empty school bus edges over train tracks and is labelled 'writing planned angst' with a train approaching. In the second panel, the train crashes into the bus and knocks it off the tracks. The train is labelled 'different angst suddenly writing itself'. End ID.]
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nettlestingsoup · 1 month
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normal ways to start a fanfic that will upset absolutely no one
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deanwena · 2 years
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SPN as Ao3 tags (pt. 1): samdean
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kaidiaries · 5 months
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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Marvel's Spider-Man (Insomniac Games Video Games), Spider-Man - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader, Peter Parker/You Characters: Peter Parker, Spider-Man, Mary Jane Watson, Wilson Fisk Additional Tags: set after Insomniac’s Miles Morales game and sometime before SM2, petermj are best friends, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Spider-Man Identity Reveal, First Dates, Organized Crime, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Sexual Tension Summary:
Being a thief and a glorified errand girl for Wilson Fisk landed you in an abandoned maggia front, minutes before your scheduled first date with the cute brunette you’d met online. Peter something. If you ever did get to learn his last name, it’d be after you escaped Spider-Man by the skin of your damn teeth.
or
At MJ’s behest, Peter breaks through the self-imposed romantic drought by trying out a dating app. He’s sure he strikes gold when he finds you.
But Spider-Man’s never far behind when Peter Parker is on the precipice of something great. Of course he has to deal with a break-in first.
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swashbucklery · 10 months
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Writing long comments on friends’ fic even though I’ve already beta read it/seen snippets of it/told them that I like it because it’s a love language!!!! I am here at your locker leaving stickers and love notes because it feels good to have stickers on your locker where everyone can see and I want you to feel like the special creative talented artist that you are!!
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catonatrain · 14 days
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lets build some memories today and tomorrow too
momoi & midorima | rated g | word count: 1776 | where momoi and midorima go on a shopping trip together
for @mason-ajar for the 2024 @knbexchange !! prompt: character a and character b pick out outfits for eachother
i was super excited to see that we've been paired up for the exchange !! i haven't been able to write in a long while, but seeing your prompts gave me the inspiration needed to to write about a friendship that is just so important... and so here they are!!
read on ao3!!
Momoi was lying on her bed, mindlessly reading a sports magazine until her phone rang. It was too early in the morning for Aomine to be calling her. Maybe it was Kise? 
“Hello?” She held her phone in between her head and shoulders.
“Momoi.” To her surprise, it was Midorima. “There is something I would like to talk to you about.”
“Midorin!” Momoi practically sang. She immediately sat up, abandoning the magazine. “You rarely call first! What is it? Oh, let me guess! Do you need a lucky item? Or are you having boy troubles?”
“No, I am not having, as you say, ‘boy troubles.’” There was a pause. Momoi figured it was Midorima pushing his glasses up. “I also have acquired my lucky item for the day. I need your assistance. Could you accompany me on a shopping trip?”
Momoi felt her already wide smile go even wider. “Of course, I’ll go with you!” She loved being invited to things– be it eating lunches at Maji Burger or coordinating streetball lessons for the local kids. Usually, she was the one doing the coordinating– which, for the record, wasn’t something she minded! But it was nice having the invitation go the other way every once in a while. Especially from Midorima! 
People may think he was someone who wanted to be uninvolved, but it was not true! When luck permitted, he always came to different events like the team’s after practice ice cream trips. Sometimes he needed just a bit of nudging, nowadays in the form of Takao, but regardless, he didn’t often initiate events with her. She’d noticed that lucky item shopping is usually his excuse to hang out with others, but he already got his lucky item of the day. 
She wondered if anyone else was coming. Takao or Kise maybe? She couldn’t help but ask. “Are we going with anyone else? Takao-kun? Or Ki-chan?”
“No, it would just be the two of us, if that would be alright with you.” There was a pause. “I understand that it may be… unusual for it to be just us, but you were the friend that I deemed would be able to help me best.”
“Aww Midorin, that’s so sweet of you!” She could imagine him blushing at the compliment. “Send me the details over email, and I’ll be there in an hour!”
Momoi saw Midorima standing on the outside of the clothing store. He wore a simple dark blue t-shirt and beige pants. He tightly held onto a giant penguin plush. When his eyes met with Momoi’s, his grip loosened. 
She ran up to him, stopped right before him, and started bouncing on her feet. “So? What’s the occasion? What are we shopping for?”
“I… would like your help in choosing an outfit.” He turned his head to avoid eye contact. Momoi knew what that meant.
“So you were having boy troubles!” After everything that’s happened in the past few months, it’s been getting easier and easier to read Midorima and this was no exception. She will admit, however, that she hadn’t quite figured out who’d captured Midorima’s affection. Most people would say it was Takao who held the title as “The Boy Midorima Likes,” but Momoi had a theory she had been brewing up. It was still a work in progress, but her “Kagami Taiga: The Boy Who Has Captured Everyone’s Heart” thesis had a lot of evidence. Momoi would simply have to take into account both possibilities today.
“That would… that would imply that I am struggling, which I assure you is not the case,” Midorima’s face flushed and his voice was louder than usual. Momoi couldn’t help but laugh.
“But you’re not denying that this is a boy-related problem!” She winked. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about Midorin! I understand completely! Whenever I’m with the person I like, I always want to look my best. I won’t ask who it is, but I’ll give it my all in helping you out!”
“I… appreciate it…” 
“You’ll definitely capture his heart, Midorin!” She began urging him into the clothes store. “Let’s go!”
“I think this outfit will be the one, Midorin!” Momoi held up a green sweater with an argyle pattern. “It’ll go great with your eyes!”
Midorima took the sweater to examine it. 
“Besides the color being the same as my eyes, is there anything else to take note of?”
Momoi giggled. Midorima’s questions reminded her of a time in middle school where Midorima asked about her notes and note taking strategies. He was always serious in his studies, and this was no exception. “You want to pick clothes that fit well and that you’re comfortable wearing! Make sure that colors and patterns don’t clash. Like two very bright colors! It can work, but I’m not too sure if that’s what you want to go with.” 
Throughout her speech, she could see Midorima nodding and paying very close attention to her words. “So for the pants, should I go with one of the darker ones?” 
“Yes! Let me choose…” Momoi looked around, surveying each pair of pants until she found one she thought to be suitable. “I think those black pants should work! Check to see if they fit!”
“Thank you.” He gently placed his giant penguin plush down and grabbed the pair from Momoi. “I truly do appreciate the time you’ve taken out of your day to help me with this.” The tips of his ears were red. She found it quite cute, but chose not to comment.
“Of course, Midorin!” Momoi beamed at him. “I’m honored you asked me to help you out with this! I’ll be cheering you on!”
His blush spread to his face. He managed to mutter a thank you before shuffling off to try on the outfit. She sat down to wait for Midorima. Would this be a one time thing? While it was the first time that it’s been just the two of them, Momoi found that she quite enjoyed the experience. With just the two of them, the energy wasn’t as face paced, which Momoi appreciated. Sometimes, she needed the break from the constant running around of her daily life. And not only that, but Midorima had definitely changed. It was easier to understand him now. 
When Midorima walked out, she saw some people began to sneak glances at her friend. Unfortunately for the interested party, his heart had been taken by someone else. She bounced on over and eye’d her friend at all sorts of angles. Midorima stiffened at the attention, not knowing what to do.
Momoi laughed. “It’s fine Midorin! You look great!” She gave him a thumbs up. 
At that, Midorima sighed, finally letting the tension escape. “That endeavor was just as difficult as I imagined it to be.” He pushed his glasses up. “Thank you Momoi for making this trip much easier. Your knowledge was crucial and your guidance saved me a lot of frustration. Is there any way to repay you?”
Momoi thought about it and couldn’t think of anything she needed at the moment. Just spending time with a friend was already a gift in itself. But she knew that he wouldn’t take that as an answer. She placed a finger on her chin as she thought of her options. 
“I want you to pick an outfit for me!”
“I beg your pardon?” Momoi could see the gears running in Midorima’s head. “Do you not already have suitable clothes?”
“I want to test what you’ve learned! Let’s see if you can make an outfit for me.”
“I’m not sure if–”
“C’mon Midorin! I know you can do it! You’re not one to back away from a challenge are you?” With that, Momoi knew she won. 
“Give me ten minutes.” Midorima rushed towards the center of the score, scanning all around to find an outfit that would look well on her. She couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that his penguin plush was tucked between Midorima’s arms. 
“A brown plaid skirt, a white blouse without any patterns, and a light brown sweater that clashes with neither of these colors.” Midorima used his penguin to hold onto the clothes, as its flippers served the clothes like how there’s a waiter serving food at a restaurant. “Is this a suitable outfit?”
“There’s only one way to find out!” It was her turn to try on something new. She came out with a little twirl, “Well, Midorin? I have my thoughts, but let’s check your sense of fashion. What do you think?”
Midorima wasted no time. “For the skirt and jacket, I was hesitant at first since you chose a sweater that specifically matched the colors of my eyes, but the neutral colors appear to coordinate well. I also ensured that the blouse had no patterns. I do believe that it fits the criteria.”
She saw a slight hint of a smile. Was he proud? She hoped so, as she truly did love the outfit that Midorima chose. “But do you think I look cute? Do you think I can capture the hearts of anyone I set my eyes on?”
“You… you asked me for my thoughts and I believe I answered appropriately. Was I incorrect in this assessment?”
“I’m just messing with you Midorin!” She saw the hint of exasperation on Midorima’s face and so she finally relented. “It’s such a cute outfit! I’m impressed!”
“Hmph.” He turned away and began walking towards the cash register. “In that case, let’s go.”
Momoi followed along happily.
Outside of the store, Midorima said, “Thank you again. I found myself enjoying our time together.” There was a pause as he ruminated on what to say next. “I hope we can do this again. I’ve been told it would be beneficial to be the one to reach out more, so I will try to do just that.”
Momoi felt a tinge of tears begin to form, but she willed them away. To think only a year ago, she was wishing for a time where everyone could smile together again. So much had changed, and she hoped  that it would continue to do so. 
“And thank you Midorin,” She gave her friend a very wide smile. “Let’s definitely do this again. But before you leave, you definitely have to tell me about who you like! Come on! Tell me! Tell me!”
Midorima’s cheeks reddened as he tried to back away, but he realized fairly quickly that this was a battle he would not win. “Fine. But let’s do it somewhere else.”
“Of course, Midorin,” she said as she walked with her friend towards their next destination.
notes:
i couldn't decide if i wanted to have hints of midotaka or hints of midokaga bc i like both ships a lot! i ended up just keeping it vague on both ends, so YOU, the reader, can decide who The Boy Midorima Likes is :)
outfits are based on some merchandise art and official art! midorima's outfit is this:
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momoi's outfit is this:
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erythriina · 5 months
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I probably won’t watch the terror because I know I don’t usually do well with very bleak media, but my dash is full of it and unfortunately I am predictably obsessed with those two gay old victorian men. especially the trans one. jfk, or whatever
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celestial-toys · 1 month
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crawls out of my writing cave on all fours, disheveled and holding a twenty-four-thousand-word-long document between my teeth
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astranauticus · 8 months
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Do mechanites cry?
#rolling with difficulty#vrla rwd#mrsn rwd#vr la rwd#mr sn rwd#art i made#yet another thing i drew then just fully forgot to post LMAO#man i had to listen to 3.7 like 3 times for this. goddammit#easter egg: the 4 big infernal books in the shelf all say contract law like its a textbook series i guess#the small one next to them says Doctor Faustus bc i was looking to my irl bookcase for inspiration#and the christopher marlowe play was one of my alevel lit texts#also i think it would be really funny if the devils have their own version of the story of the deal with the devil guy#honestly this may have been the kinda. last straw of my burnout cuz this was a lot of time spent on a lot of stuff im really not good at#and none of it turned out... exactly how i wanted but oh well. it is what it is#ok the kinda annoying thing about me spending far too fucking long drawing super emotional scenes like this is i kinda#desensitise myself to whatever im drawing. like i felt it the most with the demon possession comic i casually tossed into the discord#bc thats the exact kinda angst i personally LOVE but it just doesnt have the same punch after ive been staring at it for 5 hours straight#(anyway go read cal's fic about it its on ao3 and its bloody good)#all this to say. when i first listened to 3.7 and austin had that exchange of like#'noir can i ask you a lore question' 'sure..?' 'do mechanites cry?'#i straight up got fuckin CHILLS. and sometimes i forget that but i try to force myself not to
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thecryptidbard · 3 months
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Okay ghosties I’m officially back to working on fics
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rainofthetwilight · 5 months
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alright so ive decided the first three chapters of as the years pass by are getting rewritten!!
updates with each will be slow, but ill try to somehow release them all at once to not confuse things since there are some things i need to add, plus i realized how i wasnt actually focusing on jenna and ethan properly so yeah a rewrite here we come lmao
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man-i-dunno · 1 year
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FINALLY finished for the Women in Star Wars Challenge @distantstarssw
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empoleon · 10 months
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stranger things have happened
• rated m, one shot, 3088 words
• also available to read here
Wolfwood is humming something against the fabric of Vash’s shirt—his shirt, because Vash has taken to wearing his articles of clothing as of late—when Vash speaks up.
“They like that,” he says softly, tilting his head back with a smile.
Wolfwood pauses, lips ghosting a kiss near the spot where he was singing. “’S just something I heard a long time ago.”
From the orphanage, but it goes unspoken. Vash is fairly certain it’s in Wolfwood’s mother tongue as well, but he doesn’t comment on it—bringing that up now would probably embarrass him enough to stop and Vash certainly doesn’t want that.
They're in bed together at some rundown inn—traveling too much with Vash in his current state puts a bit of a strain on both of them, so it’s easier if they make frequent stops. They just need to be careful. They have to be careful.
Wolfwood would never forgive himself if something happened to—
It’s almost unnerving to feel the faintest movement touch the skin of his cheek, stopping his train of thought immediately. It’s such a brief feeling and he almost questions if it actually happened, but Vash beats him to it.
“Nick, did you—?”
“Yeah,” Wolfwood glances up at him, unable to hide the awe in his voice. “He moved.”
 .
 150 years. A century and a half, and Vash did not know about this. 
To be fair, there is a lot about himself that he isn’t aware of, either purposely brushing it off as a one-off occurrence or simply refusing to acknowledge it. 
Plant anatomy wasn’t something he was keen to learn about. He understood his basic, primal needs and that was that. 
Humans, on the other hand…
Cross-species breeding simply never came to mind. And even if it did, Vash was far too busy enjoying the feeling of Wolfwood on top of him, holding him close, whispering things he longed to hear—knowing that each spoken word was true—he loves you, all of you, every single piece of your being, every scar and blemish branded from God himself.
(He loves you.)
 .
 “Oi, blondie—you want to tell me why you dragged me out here again?”
The dim lighting in the old saloon feels suitable at this moment, one of the lights flickering idly. It’s noisy, overcrowded and Vash almost reconsiders his priorities. 
“How ’bout a drink first?”
It’s not something Wolfwood refuses, but he eyes the glass of water that is placed on their shared table. It’s murky in color, with a few specks of dirt swirling around, but it’s better than what they have seen in the previous towns. 
Wolfwood grabs his own glass, filled with a smooth amber tinge. “So,” he takes a swig and licks his lips. “What’s wrong?”
Vash wants to laugh. Leave it to Wolfwood to get straight to the point. 
“Nothing! Well, mostly nothing,“ Vash gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You know how it is.”
Except Wolfwood doesn’t know, with the way Vash keeps skirting around the topic at hand. 
The alcohol in his system is beginning to warm him up, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think Vash is about to say something unimaginable. It worries him.
There’s a ruckus outside the saloon that quickly enters through the double swing doors, men shouting unintelligible things—words like ‘bounty’ and ‘where is he?’ are all that Wolfwood needs to hear before he downs the rest of his drink and roughly grabs Vash by the arm. 
“Hey, wait—I didn’t get to finish my drink!” Vash whines dramatically as he stumbles to his feet. One of the men arguing with another patron glances over towards them and Wolfwood curses.
“Damn it! Will you shut it?” He swivels around and pulls Vash into a corner of the saloon, trying to obscure the view of the humanoid typhoon from any onlookers. Miraculously, it works.
The commotion dies down after the barkeep threatens to drain the tap and close up for the evening. Those who initially caused the uproar either slip back out into the night or decide it’s time for a drink.
Vash really wishes he could have one right now, too. The water on the table may not taste great, but his throat has never felt so dry.
His arms find their way around Wolfwood’s waist, and he holds him there for a moment, in the corner of that saloon. The lights flicker again.
“I need to talk to you.”
 .
 “Guess he likes my voice,” Wolfwood smooths a hand against the swell of Vash’s belly. 
“He?” Vash can’t hide the curiosity in his voice at the word, raising an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure?” 
“Spikey, there is absolutely no way in hell you’re giving me a daughter,” Wolfwood states it so seriously that Vash starts to laugh. “I mean it. My heart won’t be able to take it.” 
 .
 When he finally manages to tell Wolfwood what has been ailing him, he isn’t entirely sure what to expect, reaction wise.
Yelling or swearing? An average response, perhaps the best possible outcome, especially when it comes to the man Vash has known for so many years now. Calling him names falls under this category as well.
What he didn’t expect was the silence, or Wolfwood’s cigarette falling out of his mouth a second later. 
“You’re—”
Vash nods, unable to say anything else. It’s hard to meet those dark eyes that are glued to his body.
“And it’s…” Wolfwood trails off, motioning to himself.
Another nod. 
There’s a long pause before everything goes back to normal—whatever that actually is, Vash isn’t certain, but it feels like he can breathe again once Wolfwood regains his senses and finally says more than a few words.
“I thought you said we didn’t need to use condoms!” Wolfwood exclaims. “I asked you three times!”
Three separate times, in fact. Vash groans and runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, we don’t need to—we’ve never had—I didn’t think this was possible,” he settles on saying, because it’s true. 
This was purely impossible, and yet somehow, after 150 years, his body finally decided it was time. 
“With how often we fuck, I’m surprised this didn’t happen sooner,” Wolfwood mutters. 
He’s not wrong, as embarrassing as it is to think about it.
“So…” Vash wrings his hands together, eyes flickering between Wolfwood and the cigarette that has long since been forgotten on the ground. He moves his boot to step on it, putting it out. 
“So,” Wolfwood parrots, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Are you okay? With all of this, I mean.”
“Me?” Vash blinks, confused. “I guess so, I was mostly worried about—”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Wolfwood reaches over and pulls Vash into an embrace.
“Save it, blondie,” he says quietly. “You and I both know I’m fine with kids.” Wolfwood is also not wrong about that. 
“That’s not what I asked you.”
Are you okay with this? Is this what you want?
“I—yeah,” Vash lets out a shaky breath. “I really am.” He wraps his arms around Wolfwood’s neck and buries his face into his shoulder. “Thank you, Nick.”
For everything.
 .
 A daughter… she would look just like you, Nick, Vash thinks to himself while Wolfwood continues to argue with him—with their child. And she would act like you, too.
“I don’t need two needle-noggins in my life,” he says sternly, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “So please inherit some damn common sense—”
“I have plenty of common sense,” Vash interrupts him. “For example—”
Wolfwood scoots his hand up underneath Vash’s t-shirt and squeezes the warm skin of Vash’s hip with a rough hand, eliciting a yelp out of him.
“Don’t say another word,” he grumbles, “unless you want me to knock more of that so-called sense into you.”
Vash’s smile is everything devious in nature. “I would love to see you try.”
 .
 The first time Wolfwood sees just how different Vash is as far as humans go, he’s equal parts aroused and surprised.
“You really weren’t kidding,” he says while trailing a finger across the inner part of Vash’s upper thigh, tracing a scar that mars the skin there. It stops just short of what he could only describe as thin, petal-like folds, tightly wound and—quivering? “This is pretty freaky, spikey.”
“Don’t tease me,” Vash all but huffs as his body is out on display for him. One too many drinks later and they find themselves in yet another unfamiliar, yet all too recognizable inn bedroom. 
It was easy for both of them to make it to this point—they always, always do, but this time it is different. It’s edging closer to something that neither one of them can turn away from.
Wolfwood grins at him. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”
 “Can you—y-yes, right there,” Vash’s calves tighten around Wolfwood’s shoulders instinctively, hands gripping the bed sheets beneath him. 
“Easy, Vash,” Wolfwood is a little breathless when he pulls back, a hand trailing along the metal of his prosthetic. “Digging into my neck a bit there.”
Vash almost immediately tries to sit up, looking extremely concerned. “Shit, I’m so sorry—”
Wolfwood carefully presses a hand to Vash’s lower abdomen, stopping him. “It’s fine, sweetheart,” he licks his lips. “Lie back down.”
His legs loosen a bit, this time more mindful of Wolfwood’s fleshy shoulders. Vash had insisted on leaving his prosthetics on, enjoying being able to anchor himself against his lover. 
Wolfwood continues where he left off, nose brushing the inner, wetter petals that are waiting for him, taking in Vash’s scent with a soft inhale. 
He flicks his tongue across them, watching as they unfurl and invite him into something far greater. 
“Nick—” Vash arches his back with a groan. “More, I—”
“More what?” Wolfwood murmurs it against the opening of his slit, lips finding their way around the swell of a small bud that is nestled between it. “Full sentences.”
“More, please,” Vash’s voice trembles, “Don’t fucking stop.”
“Language, sweetheart,” Wolfwood presses a kiss to the bud, nips at it gently with his teeth and proceeds to curl his tongue around it. 
He sucks long and slow, far too slow for Vash’s liking, evident in the way he hears another groan come from him. 
Vash’s hand reaches for Wolfwood’s hair, tugging as he rocks his hips closer.
“Oh, Nick,” he gasps this time and Wolfwood is certain that he’s close, noticing how the room begins to glow a touch brighter. 
Seeing those intricate patterns spark to life across various parts of Vash’s body ignites something truly deep within Wolfwood, far deeper than any spoken word of some higher being he could imagine.
They dance across scarred legs, skipping over pieces of well worn beryl-infused metal, trailing up Vash’s torso, his neck—
Vash shudders when he comes, fingers flexing into Wolfwood’s hair, purposefully forcing the man to stay put between his legs.
Not that Wolfwood would have ever minded.
He laps up everything that Vash gives to him and tries to coax out even more with his mouth, relishing the sweet taste that hits his tongue. 
“Still with me, darlin’?” Wolfwood breaks away from him with a quiet gasp. He brings a hand up to his lips and wipes at it, grinning. 
“Uh-huh,” is the only coherent response he gets, Vash’s body going limp with bliss. “’S good, Nick, you’re so good.”
“Preaching to the choir, I see,” Wolfwood runs a hand up Vash’s thigh, tracing along the intricate plant markings and noting how they shimmer brighter with each touch. “Let’s see what else that pretty mouth of yours can do.”
 .
 “How did the appointment go?” Wolfwood eventually asks, moving up to settle beside Vash. “Did Brad ask about—”
“The feathers,” Vash nods and sighs quite dramatically. “It was going so well, too, but then I sneezed and everything just,” he lifted up both his hands and spread his fingers, metal and flesh flexing wide, “Exploded?”
“Exploded?” Wolfwood can’t help but laugh. “Our child is already a menace, I can't believe it.”
One morning Vash had awoken to small, downy feathers attempting to sprout from his shoulders and forearm—the last time that happened, any time that happened, actually, was when they—
Well. Vash definitely didn’t relay that information to Brad, but he didn’t try to hide any of his bodily changes when he went for his most recent checkup. 
Luida suspected it had something to do with the pregnancy—that energy, a life, now being constantly generated from within him. He was bound to have some… interesting side effects.
“I couldn’t believe it,” Vash says after a moment. “You should’ve seen the look on Brad's face when it happened though, or the room,” he pauses and glances at Wolfwood with a smile. “Completely covered in feathers.”
Wolfwood snakes an arm across Vash’s chest, moving to rest his head on his shoulder. “Bet he loved that,” he closes his eyes. “Glad everything went smoothly, blondie. I should be able to come next time.”
Vash turns his head and presses a kiss to Wolfwood’s hair. “Luida would like that. She’s been dying to see you again, you know.”
“More like dying to have someone help out around the ship,” Wolfwood sighs, but there’s no malice in his tone. “Say, next time we visit…” he lowers his hand down Vash’s chest, stopping pointedly at his stomach. “They’ll be able to tell us what the little sprout is, yeah?”
Vash’s small intake of breath doesn’t go by unnoticed and it causes Wolfwood to sit up, getting a better look at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Well—” Vash starts to say, but closes his mouth promptly. 
“Wait,” Wolfwood reaches over to the side of the bed and suddenly the room is illuminated by the warm glow from the lamp. “Vash, don’t tell me you—” he glances back over at him and studies his face for a moment in silence. Vash desperately wishes Wolfwood wasn’t so damn good at reading him for once. 
“You already know, don’t you?” 
Vash groans and brings a hand up to his face. “It was an accident, Luida brought it up before I could stop her. I’m so sorry, Nick.” 
Wolfwood exhales and slumps back against the pillows. “Unbelievable.”
Vash attempts to roll over to face him, being on his back for so long starting to become a bit uncomfortable. “Nick?”
Silence. 
“Nicholas,” Vash pouts—he definitely has no right to do so, but he can’t help it. “I can just tell you, would that make it better?”
“No,” Wolfwood sighs. “I still want it to be a surprise.”
“I can act surprised when she tells us!” Vash says with enthusiasm. Wolfwood gives him a withering look. “No? Okay, okay,” he frowns, “it was worth a shot, though.”
“You are a complete needle-noggin idiot, you know that?” Wolfwood reaches over to flick Vash’s head. “And… it’s all right, don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure?” 
“Yes,” Wolfwood stresses the fact with a poke to Vash’s cheek. “I can wait a few more weeks. You better not bring it up on accident, though, or else—”
“I won’t! I promise, scout’s honor!”
 .
 Wolfwood is a lazy kisser—Vash used to tease him for it, but it wasn’t as though he was much better—or had any practice.
And they really did have the time now for these sorts of things.
He sighs as Wolfwood peppers a trail of kisses up his chest, taking his time with each scar and meld of flesh and metal his lips come past. 
“Nicholas,” Vash’s voice is light, full of warmth. “I thought you said— oh!”
Wolfwood captured his mouth with ease, stopping whatever teasing comment that was about to be said. 
His lips are chapped, but still somehow soft, warm—Vash has half a mind to point that out, but Wolfwood won’t allow it with the way his mouth is working. 
Vash gives in and sighs into the kiss, tugs him closer, prosthetic fingers raking through Wolfwood’s hair. It’s enough of an incentive to keep going, by any means. 
Even if there is shouting outside the inn bedroom’s window, or the ringing of a few gunshots sounding off in the lingering desert air. 
Vash breaks the kiss to turn his head, ignoring how Wolfwood sets his aim for his throat.
“Should we go—mmh,” Vash tries to suppress a moan, unsuccessfully, “check that out?” 
Wolfwood pauses, lips lingering near Vash’s collarbone. “During the middle of this?” 
He has a point. 
And to further express said point, Wolfwood slowly rocks his hips along Vash’s thighs.
“You’re right,” and Vash can’t believe he’s saying it with a smile on his face, one that Wolfwood can’t see from this angle, but knows that the man can feel. 
The whole room is lighting up, after all.
“It can wait,” Vash decides, and Wolfwood takes him.
 .
 One minute of silence passes between them, and then two. 
“Okay, I can’t do this,” Wolfwood rolls over to face Vash. “’M not going to be able to sleep unless I know.”
Vash is unable to restrain himself from laughing. “Really? Surely there’s something in your good book about rewarding patience.”
“Always be humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love,” Wolfwood recalls the passage in a low voice. “I think I’ve been pretty gentle lately, all things considered.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Vash agrees, amused. “Not so humble, though. Might need some brushing up on that.”
Wolfwood slides a bit closer to Vash. “Good thing we’ll have some down time for the next couple of months then—I could use some practice.”
“I happen to know an excellent teacher,” Vash says. He feels Wolfwood snake an arm across underneath the blankets, reaching for his shoulder to pull Vash in an embrace. 
“If you say Brad, I swear to fucking God—”
Vash’s huff of laughter is the only response Wolfwood gets before a pale hand beckons him closer. 
Even in the now-quiet of the room, Vash’s whisper to his ear is perhaps the softest thing Wolfwood has heard in a very long time. 
He can’t help his too sudden reply, his own voice on the verge of cracking. “Really?”
Vash nods. “Yes, really.”
And if Wolfwood hid his face in the crook of Vash’s neck, eyes filled with a dampness that threatened to spill over and unable to say anything else except a murmured ‘thank you’—
It was enough. 
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