#totomoo nerding out

[thetotomoo]

Placeholder for Master List, Works, OCs, About Me, and Transformative Policy.

About Me:

I do recognize that connecting with people means being open and vulnerable to a certain degree.

So... a few personal things: I was originally from the Philippines and moved out west with my parents when I was young. I'm a dog person (because we can't have cats for medical reasons). I love to cook, read, and stress clean. I have a literature degree but this just means I'm more of a nerd and an expert into reading (yes, I know you said it's just blue but it can be blue for other reasons!!! Indulge me!!!). I've been creatively writing since spring/summer of 2023.

I am multi-fandom, multi-ship (name it and I might goad you into writing fic for it XD-- seriously... ask all people on the servers I'm currently on), and have been reading fanfiction for much too long (and will likely still do so on my death bed many, many years from now).

Link to Works:

AO3

Wattpad

Current Work in Progress (As of 12/2024):

"Sins of the Father"

Pairing: M/F, and M/M

Sebastian Sallow x F! OC and Ominis Gaunt x Garreth Weasley

Future Work in Progress:

Resolve-- An Anne Sallow Story

"The Relic" (Which Has a one shot accompaniment "Where the Moon is Blue")

Original Characters:

Caroline Rookwood: Fictional daughter of Victor Rookwood and Cecilia Rookwood

Vincent Rookwood: fictional son of Victor Rookwood and Cecilia Rookwood

Tessie of House Rookwood: sassy house elf

My MCs (so far...):

Isabella Marguerite de'Montmercy: From "Confessions". Belongs to the de'Montmercy family-- famous in HP canon for their love potions. Future Queen of Ominis Gaunt

M---- C----: From the "Sins" Universe. Antagonist. Loves Sebastian Sallow (not his end game though). I do love her and all her flaws.

Transformative Policy:

I am open to most transformative works, such as writing inspired by or in the same universe as my stories (alternative storylines are welcome), translations, handmade bind-ups, art, playlists, etc., and would love to see and be tagged in the results! You do not need to seek individual permissions for these things.

Please respect other artists' work if you are binding and obtain their permission for your personal usage.

I require that all works remain and be shared freely. Under no circumstances should it be hidden behind paywalls or be monetized for profit.

Please DO NOT repost my work to another site or archive without permission (I am on most major platforms-- see list above for official accounts).

While I appreciate the enthusiasm and love, please do not post my work on Goodreads (not that it's there, but I'm just saying this now). Such works there have gone through multiple edits and believe me-- mine still need editing, correction on typos, and whatnot.

Thank you for reading my works!

[totomoowrites]

Prompt: identity and language as an obstacle to finding one’s place in the world.

OR

He was just different his mother would say. But different and estranged were two matters entirely.

He knew he was not the first of his kind and he knew he would not be the last. To some he was called a bastard. To his mother he was a happy accident. But despite all the names he might acquire in this lifetime, he was more than aware that he was a mistake— happy or not.

It did not help that he was far different in stature than any counterparts— he was not tall like any witch or wizard nor was he of average and acceptable height as other goblins. It mattered little if he wore the most unassuming clothes he could find— he could never fully disappear into the background. While such methods benefitted his comfort, he could not deafen himself to the comments and whispers as he walked past.

Being of two worlds, he knew and understood the guttural inflections of his mother’s tongue and the cuts that lay beneath a witch and wizard’s words. Understanding however did not make him part of their world. He was, as both society’s deemed him, a traitor to any kind.

Further notes:

The use of language in any society, be it fiction or the real world, can emphasize the socio political relationships between countries or simply one’s identity.

In politics—

Knowing two (or more) languages requires parties to rely on the interpreter for translations. But such translations (especially if there is a measure of personal interest) cannot fully be trusted.

In personal situations (example)—

This can likely strain relationships between parental units and children or friends. In an attempt to fit in, perhaps the new generation seeks to hide connection of their family’s origins (perhaps masking an accent).

[thetotomoo]

sorry to bother you, I'm your hl fanfic fans, I love you write arthur plummly ,amit thakkar, andrew larson and other little character ,thank you write this

Hello, Anon! No bother at all! ❤️❤️❤️ I’m happy to answer comments and questions!

I’m very happy you enjoyed reading them! They were a joy for me to write and I hope I can one day bring the gentlemen back together in some odd shape or form. 😂

Funny enough I do have a random draft for them all together in a piece currently titled “The S.A.D Club” aka Single Arsed Dad Club. It’s one of many WIP (my notes literally tell me to stop making more WIPS 😂) that focuses on the HL characters as single dads and finding love! (Leander is an honorary member because he’s just so loveable I couldn’t think of possibly making him single, divorced, and/or widowed). It’s not complete by any means (I seem to keep running out of time this year for all the works I want to do 😅).

“How?”

Sebastian Sallow was struck— quite literally and figuratively.

“What do you mean how?” Ominis Gaunt cast him a rueful look, “I suspect it happened the same as anybody— he asked.”

“Yes, but how?” And ‘why’ was the other question currently needling his brain.

Among the few friends gathered in the room alike, Sebastian could not comprehend how in Merlin’s name, Duncan Hobhouse managed to be the first of their little club to find a woman to marry him.

Dubbed by Ominis Gaunt as the “Single Arsed Dad’s Club” or as Ominis like to refer to themselves in public, “The SAD Club” hosted weekly gatherings to exchange helpful information for the successful rearing of their respective children.

In truth, the brunch hours spent at someone’s home, the park, or the zoo were spent little on the merits of meal planning and tips on toilet training in favor of more pressing matters— gossip.

What had begun in their early years of polite conversation had devolved into a screaming match one fine afternoon. After several nights of interrupted sleep and months of no enjoyable company, the fine group of single fathers’ had broken down and recounted precisely the nature of their backstories.

Everett Clopton had broken first. Separated from his wife for irreconcilable differences and granted full custody of his daughter, the lady’s man of their formative youth had put himself in a state of wondering how he was supposed to raise a successful young woman.

Andrew Larson broke next, widowed and citing that their problems paled in comparison to the problems of the father of a young boy possessing a brilliant and exceptional mind as his.

Duncan Hobhouse had broken third, newly separated then, and feeling ill-prepared and ill-equipped to handle feedings and the administration of his daughter’s medicine.

Garreth Weasley broke after a moment of silence after that. Not a separated father or a widow— but a man who had been desperate to start a family and so adopted two of his own. It was his own fault– he sobbed. He loved his children; he did. But a young father at the age of nineteen? Even his family had thought him mad.

Ominis Gaunt had broken down not long after—also not separated or a widow; he had not wanted children. But the unexpected passing of his older brother and the news of the sorry state his two children had been left in tugged at his heart. At the gentle prodding of his Aunt Noctua, he ran at the last hour and took them into his home. Rescue aside, he felt aloof and cold in their presence, unsure how to speak or help them—did children like the ballet or the opera?

And Sebastian Sallow? He had sat silent, mulling over everyone’s words. He was widowed with a son, much like Andrew was. But his son was… just his son— happy, curious, and with a penchant for a bit of mischief like his Aunt Anne. He was a good boy. It was Sebastian who was suffering. Widowed and a father at a tender young age, the loss of his wife had not sat well with him for months. He had become a shadow and so far removed from enjoying the company of his own son. And so, at the eleventh hour of their scheduled meeting, he broke.

What followed was an Ominis Gaunt-mandated holiday for everyone in their group on a remote island, fixed with their own furnished cottages, the fabled Gaunt staff that would see to their and their children’s every meal, cleaning, and needs. And despite the chaos and likely a set of traumatized staff after a week, the gentlemen of “The SAD Club” forged on stronger and more honest with one another.

“Come on, Sallow… surely, you still remember how to talk to a girl.”

Tall, lanky, freckled, and sporting a shock of ginger hair, Sebastian glared at Leander Prewett, “What are you doing here? Since when were you single?”

“Hmm, I don’t quite remember,” Leander smiled, “I am a father, though.”

Leander Prewett—dubbed the honorary member of “The SAD Club” stood before them bearing baskets of home-cooked meals from his wife for the gentlemen and yet… still married (happily), still the father of his brood of three children, and still just as hopelessly lost as they were in fatherhood.

Sebastian stared wistfully as he waved farewell to friends. One arm was laden with toys and extra clothes, the other held the basket of food, and his shoulder carried a giggling, albeit tired, young boy.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, love?” He peered up to meet the brilliant blue eyes of Silas Oliver Sallow.

“Helena didn’t come play today.”

Helena Hobhouse and Silas had been friends for as long as Sebastian could remember. He had been surprised— so sure his cheerful son would cling to Garreth’s children more. But he thought Silas took after his mother, preferring to find his company among those he thought didn’t fit quite right in.

“Helena’s daddy erm… has gotten married,” he coughed as he strolled down the sunset drenched streets leading toward the train.

“Married,” the soft hum and silence were much too brief for Sebastian when Silas asked, “What’s married?”

“It’s…” he paused, chewing his cheek as he settled them into their compartment, “It’s when two people come together and become a family.”

“Like us?”

He chuckled, “Adults, love.”

“Oh… you mean like you and Aunt Anne.”

And then he choked wide-eyed at the only other person in their compartment, a woman with long blonde hair and a summer dress, hid behind a large newspaper, “No! No– no… not— erm…”

“But you and Aunt Anne are adults.”

“Yes, but—”

“And we’re a family.”

“Yes, but—”

“Are you and Aunt Anne getting married?”

“No!” Sebastian squeaked out, glaring at the rustle of paper and feminine cough on the opposite seats, “No… Aunt Anne and I will not be getting married. Ever. Erm… marriage is… between two people who become lifelong friends.”

“Oh,” Silas nodded, “Like me and Helena.”

“Exactly,” he breathed, making a note to apologize to Hobhouse if his young son was already thinking of proposing to his daughter, “A marriage is a good friendship between two people who stay together and create a family of their own.”

“A family? Like a mummy and a daddy?”

“Yes,” he said softly, “Like a mummy and a daddy. Or mummies. Or daddies.”

“Oh,” Silas nodded again, “So, Helena has two mummies.”

“Yes, love,” Sebastian smiled, “Helena has two mummies.”

“Will I get another mummy?”

Sebastian’s breath caught, and he stared at the wide and hopeful eyes. He had never considered it— the dark few years of Silas’ mother’s passing had left very little space for another woman in his life. After Anne shouted at him, he had focused so much on Silas that all thoughts of the prospects of dating and becoming married again had never occurred to him.

He had urges certainly… but it was nothing that a quick wank in their bathroom or in the dead of night could accomplish.

What would it be like to give Silas another mother? To have a wife again? Sebastian thought deeply with Silas’ big blue eyes waiting impatiently for his answer.

“Yes,” he said after a second, “But… they would have to love you first.”

And, he thought silently, they would have to love Silas with all their breath and heart as though he was one of their own. Anything less, and Sebastian would consider it imperfect.

“Daddy,” Silas snorted, “That’s easy!”

Suppressing a roll of his eyes, he laughed at the Sallow charm etched on Silas’ face– reaching to tuck him closer beside him.

One more hour– he thought as giggles turned into soft snores and the train rumbling on the tracks moved along.

“He’s a lovely and precocious child,” the soft voice proclaimed behind the paper.

“I’m glad we were so entertaining for you, miss,” he spat.

“Now, now… that sounds just a tad too bitter, sir,” she said before folding her paper carefully beside her to reveal a coy smile, annoyingly pleasing pout, and twinkling green eyes, “I meant nothing terrible, sir. Why— my brother and I are often mistaken as our father and mother at formal functions. And I can assure you, it’s right embarrassing to interrupt a Minister to correct him in the middle of our introductions to several other ambassadors.”

He flushed, lips twitching as she arched a brow at him.

“Fair enough,” he smirked, “Though I think I’d rather prefer explaining the definition of marriage a hundred times than be asked about a new mummy again.”

“Ah,” she nodded, crossing her legs as she leaned back in her chair and smiled— eyes softening at the sight of Silas curled beside him, “Well, I’m sure whatever you decide, they’ll easily fall in love with someone as sweet as he.”

~~~***~~~

Sebastian lay that night, tossing and turning for a good hour before he reached for his mobile, opened “The SAD Club’s” group of texts, and wrote:

SS: Silas asked if he was going to get a new mummy.

EC: 🥵🍆🍩🙌

GW: ❤️💖💞💘💒

AL: Good. And I would like to offer my condolences for the future Mrs. Sallow in advance.

LP: Oh my days! Mate, what do you need??

OG: Emergency meeting. Steepley’s at eight. DO NOT BE LATE.

[thetotomoo]

Anon!!! 😭❤️ I have your question (for a Confessions of the Gentlemen AU) and I’m still mulling over it— are we talking about subverting the endings with dark elements or shall it be Fire, brimstone, and lord of death? (And tragedy)? 👀🙌❤️

Either would work 🤔 if I subvert it, I may make it a prequel of sorts. If it’s fire and brimstone with tragic ends, I may just do mini Drabble shots 😍

[thetotomoo]

[thetotomoo]

@totomoowrites

Hello Anon! I’m going to answer this here for my uh… ocd organizing tendencies! 😂

Thank you for your comment, I appreciate it very much! I will admit, I’m very much a Sebastian Sallow fan but I do enjoy all the works for other NPCs. It’s a lot of fun doing character studies and whatnot!

🤔 I do hope I can do another one in the near future (longer and likely featuring other casts). It would be a fun side project to do alongside more serious works.

Thank you again! ❤️