#I know that's not really the crowd I'm working with here but I think most of you would just roll with it gfsdgsd
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I think think about your piece How to Go Places Alone And Not Feel Like A Freak Looser (or something to that affect) quite often.
While it is uncomfortable, tiring, nerve wracking, to feel like or be the odd one out, I am at least used to the feeling. It takes nerve but (especially as a kid/teen) have always gone to things alone and, once I get over myself, enjoy not caring what anyone thinks about my presence.
As an (ever transsexualizing >:) adult, I am getting back into doing & dressing however I want in public (embarrassing yourself is inevitable, might as well enjoy life!). This is a funner, freer, outlook, but I hoped being more myself would help me find my people.
I’m used to the awful feeling of being an alien freak looser (real or imagined) so I can hype myself up to be in my own world when I’m out. But I wonder if doing this, and choosing events based on interest instead of demographics or friendship, reinforces my felling of disconnect with people. It’s easier to accept, and dress like, I’ll always stick out (be alone) than it is to imagine mimicking those around me.
I went to an explicitly cruisey new years night and instead of studying the crowd intensely trying to fit in, wore my shiny platforms, smiled at people, and danced just for the fun of it. Feeling good about myself and enjoying my experience requires an ‘eh fuck ‘em’ attitude. I can enjoy being in public seeing all my fellow earthlings but it does not feel social. And I realize, my time there felt anything but sexy. I wasn’t about to walz into the darkroom (let’s walk before we run), but I hate that I couldn’t feel comfortable in this place I’ve always wanted to be.
I return to the same questions everywhere I go: I can exist, but how am I supposed to learn the codes of a space when I can’t study (ruminate) from afar?
How could I ever be social when (even joyous and embodied) I can’t get out of my own head?
How do you know when it’s time to listen to your gut and when to play into a social game?
I understand what you mean about the duality between doing your own thing in your own little alien bubble and actively placing effort into connecting with the people around you (which often feels like it requires masking).
But, from my perspective, both of those are strategies for dealing with social overwhelm -- one is more dissociative, and the other's more compensatory. Both of them reflect a discomfort with the people in the space. And they're both perfectly reasonable ways to deal with such feelings! But the way to move forward, at least in my experience, is to continue attending events until you attain enough familiarity with them that you actually start feeling more comfortable.
You said you didn't feel sexy at this cruisy party, and certainly weren't ready to venture into the dark room. That's fine! You can work your way up in whatever order of activities is least intimidating to most intimidating to you.
The first few times that I go to a club, I need anywhere from a few minutes to an hour to get warmed up enough to really dance on the floor and take up a ton of space and make weird gestures. I spend a lot of time lurking in the corner or reading a book at the bar at first. After I've been there a number of times, I know the deal of the space better, recognize a few people, maybe have developed a rapport with the door guy or a regular, and it gets easier to branch out and feel more at ease in my skin. People intuit this and approach me more often when I'm feeling more comfortable, and my reactions have fewer exit ramps built into them (one of my protective instincts is to throw out a lot of conversation-enders that make people feel rejected, lmaoo good one me).
The same general principles I've described here can apply to any new social challenge, including a bar with a backroom where people are fucking. Show up again. Do your thing. Maybe find a spot to post up and observe, since you mentioned an interest in doing that. Bring a book or some knitting if you want, and wear whatever outfit helps you feel comfortable and good with yourself. The first few times you do all this, people may get strong "I'm Doing My Own Thing Leave Me Alone" vibes from you, as they often do from Autistics, and that's fine. You're still learning and acclimating from being there. After a couple of tries, head into that back room. It's not as exciting as you think it's gonna be. You might get to watch some fucking or you might just see a bunch of guys pacing around who are just as awkward as you feel that you are. But then you'll know what it's like. And then you just keep showing up, and observing and participating in small ways (watching is participation in a sex club!), and you'll get steadily more involved in the space and connected to the people each time that you do.
I've been going to pet patrol nights for a long time and I've only just now gotten to the point where I can chat up random people and get into hookups relatively easily, instead of just standing around mutely hoping someone will approach me. Bringing friends has helped a ton to relax me and make me seem more approachable to others, too, so you could try that!
for anyone wondering here's the full piece
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so illario was in the final battle
and this was supposed to be a drabble, but I cannot be trusted to write Illario and Lidia succinctly. TW for a semi graphic description of wounds - I can't tell if it's not really that bad or if I just think the human body is neat so I'm marking that down anyway. no death or descriptions of the wounds being inflicted, though; this is fully set post-battle. the endgame spoilers are fairly mild though - just the location of the final fight.
if you saw my WIP Wednesday, this is what that snippet was from! I hope you enjoy it as much as these two enjoy arguing with each other. thank you for reading!
The dried blood matting half of Lidia’s bangs down against her split scalp didn’t bother her nearly as much as it bothered Teia. She fussed over her gently, blotting a damp rag against Lidia’s head and tutting like a disappointed mother.
“This is what happens,” she scolded between soft pats. “You always run ahead, and you always draw attention, and you always get yourself hurt.”
Absentmindedly, Lidia replied, “I usually work alone.”
“Yes, and this is why.”
“Mm.” The only sign she felt pain was a series of rapid blinks when Teia pressed against a particularly painful cut.
“If you would stop looking around, I’d be done faster.”
Lidia turned her head back toward Teia. “Is it still bleeding?”
“Not that I can see.”
She rose to her feet and brushed the dust of fallen Minrathous buildings off her thighs. “Then I’ll live.”
Teia gave up quickly. She was no one’s parent, no matter how much she cared. “Suit yourself. But Lidia?”
“Hm?”
“You’ve done immensely well. Not just here - since Lucanis’ return as well. House Dellamorte is lucky to have you.”
She smiled thinly. “We’re all just Crows today, Teia.”
“Yes, we are.”
“Speaking of Lucanis…”
Teia nodded her head in the direction of the raucous cheering and the gathered crowd surrounding a few figures climbing down from the rooftop where the final confrontation had taken place. They both saw the flash of a purple jacket at the same time, and a wave of relief washed over them as they shared a look.
“Vi is back a ways, checking the fallen for ours so we can arrange the funerals,” Teia continued softly. “Since you’re upright, could you see to them as well?”
“Of course. Tell Lucanis not to worry about us and just take care of himself if you get a chance to talk to him.”
Teia nodded, and Lidia turned away. She hugged her cape around herself like a blanket as she snaked her way through what was left of the Minrathous streets, hopping over and ducking under various bits of debris that cluttered the city. She caught a few of her fellow Crows out of the corners of her eyes as she passed - most bloodied, bruised, and limping, but alive - and they all shared reassuring smiles with her once they noticed her. We lived, said their grins. We won, and we lived.
She saw Viago leaning against a mostly-intact building, heaving a deep sigh, and she called out to him. He lifted his eyes to her as she approached, but his lips were pulled down into a scowl.
Quietly, Lidia asked, “Is it that bad?”
“We lost just over twenty,” he answered, voice low and solemn. “Not as many as I expected, but… less than ideal. Most were fledgelings, but there’s a small handful of master assassins.”
She felt a selfish desire to ask anyone I know? but stifled it. “Do you need anything? A hand with the bodies? A cart?”
“A cart,” he agreed with a nod. “Though I don’t know if we could get one to the eluvian with the state of Minrathous. We might have to carry them through on stretchers.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed again. “Which means we’d need able-bodied volunteers, a relatively clear path back to the mirror, enough stretchers to make for less back-and-forth, a cart waiting in the Crossroads…”
“Maybe we can ask Lucanis if he knows a clearer route?” Lidia suggested softly.
He blinked, then sighed with relief. “You saw him?”
“Teia and I. He looks alright. Reasonably unharmed.”
He nodded again, more slowly this time. “It's nice to have some good news, at least.”
Lidia looked past Viago, into the building, and saw rows and rows of white linens draped over bodies. A cold, sick feeling gawed at her stomach as she counted them, and she wondered how many more would succumb to their injuries or simply hadn’t yet been found.
Another fear gripped her, too. She scanned the bodies again, making note of the taller ones. From the shoes she could see, none looked more distinctive than the regular steel-tipped Crow boots. Though some were burned beyond recognition. She felt guilty, searching for just one body among the two dozen lying before her, and guiltier still that she was looking for him at all.
But she hadn’t seen him with the other Crows. He should have been with Teia, or Lucanis, or even here pestering Viago endlessly. She shouldn’t care. He didn’t deserve it. But she asked anyway.
“Viago–”
“I don’t know.”
“I didn’t even ask yet.”
“No, but you have that look on your face.” Viago sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know where Illario is. Teia saw him last.”
Lidia frowned. “She didn’t mention anything to me, and I was just with her.”
He pulled a hand down his face before pausing to smooth down his beard. “I did not see him among the dead, if that’s what you’re asking, but I have no idea where else he would be right now.”
“Well, he isn’t with Teia, and he isn’t with Lucanis, where he was supposed to be.”
She glanced over her shoulder just in time to see a pair of Crows carrying the mangled corpse of one of their fellows into the building. Viago sighed again and raked his fingers back through his hair.
“Dammit. One of Teia’s fledgelings.”
Lidia looked back at him, horrified. “I thought you told them not to come!”
“We did,” he answered, voice pained and eyes closed. “But you of all people should know that doesn’t stop them from wanting to prove themselves.”
He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, steeling himself to write another name on his list. After a moment of silence and a nod at the two Crows as they left the building, he sighed again and said, “Go home, Lidia. We’ve been sending the ones who can walk back to the Diamond for now to care for the ones who can’t.”
“Teia told me to help you.”
“And you can help me by going home,” Viago snapped. “And tell them to put a cart in the Crossroads. And station some people with it in case we need them to carry stretchers through the streets.”
She frowned, but gave a single nod of understanding before turning away. They were all Crows today. And she knew better than to question an order from a Talon.
She was welcomed by the warmth of Trevisan air once the cool, watery feeling of the eluvian faded. For just a moment, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, drinking in the flurry of scents that always filled the Cantori Diamond. The smells of spices, wine, and smoke wafted up from the casino floor, but the familiar chatter and laughter was replaced by eerie quiet, broken up only by the occasional groan or cry of pain.
Lidia’s eyes darted toward a flash of purple and she called out, stopping Chance in his tracks. He leaned back, peering at her curiously from around the corner, but smiled warmly as she approached.
“Lidia! You made it back.” He touched her shoulder gently before bowing with a flourish. “Welcome home, my lady.”
She returned the expression as best she could despite her headache and festering worry. “Thank you. The Fifth Talon would like a cart prepared in the Crossroads outside the Minrathous eluvian along with some strong, uninjured Crows who can carry bodies back on stretchers if need be.”
“It will be done. Any other requests?”
She glanced around, but saw no one else nearby. “I heard some of our wounded came through. Where are they now?”
“Using the card tables as extra beds,” he answered before frowning as he smoothed his moustache. “We’ve already lost three, and one more seems to be on his way out. The healers who stayed are all busy, and everyone else went to Minrathous. It’s… going to get better soon. I’m certain. Your arrival can only herald better tidings.”
Again, Lidia bit her tongue to keep herself from asking if the dead were known to her. Instead, she simply nodded to signal her understanding and left.
As she descended the many flights of stairs separating the rafters from the casino floor, her brow furrowed as her concern compounded on itself. Every step felt heavier as she ran over the names and faces of her favorite Crows in her mind. Lucanis, Teia, Viago, and Chance were safe. Jacobus stayed behind in Treviso after Lidia begged him to - their argument consisted of shouting and frustrated tears, but ended with several forehead kisses and a warm, loving hug once he finally agreed to stay. But the others? Heir, Dolores, Cazi, Valerian?
Illario?
She hated herself for worrying about him the most. He had not earned back that space in her head, and yet he’d stolen it again. He occupied her thoughts in various stages of injury, and images of him maimed or charred or exsanguinated flashed through her mind. With everything he put her through, everything he lied about, she knew she should be savoring the idea of him dead somewhere in Minrathous. But it haunted her, the thought of never seeing him again. It ached like a stone with sharp edges lodged in her chest.
I should’ve left Treviso entirely, she thought bitterly as she rounded the corner of the final stairwell.
The floor of the Diamond opened up before her, and she sighed at the state of it. About half of the card tables had wounded Crows perched on them - several with especially nasty-looking injuries - and a corner of the room was sectioned off with makeshift dividers. A few trails of blood - droplets, drag marks, or both - meandered off toward different tables. It would take days to get this place functional again.
Overlapping voices from various healers and patients filled the room. Most were voices she recognized, and she felt a wave of relief as they registered one by one. And as one of them filtered in, her head turned immediately toward the sound.
“I know, quite heroic,” said Illario with a soft groan. “Maybe someday the heroism will outweigh the stupidity.”
Lidia spotted him on a table, shirtless and wrapped in bandages, with his hair swept over one shoulder and a healer tending to his right side. He moved sluggishly and only when told, but his posture was still straight and his voice was still clear. He looked… decent.
She chided herself again for being so worried. Of course Illario was fine. Of course he made it with only minor injuries. Why wouldn’t he? He always had demonic luck. Why worry about him, Illario the traitor, Illario the liar, Illario the cheater, heartbreaker, manipulator–
“Lidia?”
She looked back at him at the sound of his voice, realizing her fingernails were starting to dig into her palms. She grabbed a stray coin off an empty card table and turned it over a few times in her hand as she made her way toward Illario.
He smiled at her approach, winced as he turned too far, and gave a slightly smaller and surprisingly sheepish grin when she reached his side. “Stay right there,” he said, holding out his unbandaged arm. “That’s always been my good side.”
Lidia rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t possibly say hello, or ask me how I am, or ask after Lucanis, could you? Do you even care?”
“I–” He hissed sharply and cursed as the healer pried something off his skin with a sticky sound. He leaned forward at the same time Lidia did, blocking her view of whatever was removed from him, and flashed another forced half-smile. “Of course I care, but I trust your delightful bluntness. I’m certain you would have told me the second you saw me if he was dead. I’m also certain you would look like you’ve been crying.”
She scowled and crossed her arms, angrily spinning the coin between her thumb and forefinger. “You’re a bastard.”
“I’m not, strictly speaking, but I never did get to know my father as well as I would have liked, so I’ll give you–” He cut himself off with another wince as the healer removed another piece from him. Once more, Lidia leaned forward to look, and once more, Illario intercepted her, this time by reaching for her arm.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped, pulling away from him.
He let his hand fall back to the table. “If there’s one thing I can say about you, it’s that you never gave me mixed signals. I always know exactly where I stand. I love this about you - have I mentioned that?”
“You have. A pity I can’t say the same about you.”
Before he could respond, his head surged backwards and he let out a pained cry as the healer unwound one of the bandages on his arm.
“Apologies,” the healer muttered, “but now that the debriding is done, I need to replace these compresses and apply the rest.”
“Sure,” Illario groaned through his teeth. “You’re the expert.”
Lidia took her opportunity and shifted her stance to see the extent of his injuries. She couldn’t stifle a small gasp, which seemed to hurt him more than anything else.
A splotchy pink burn blossomed across most of his right forearm and about half his bicep, and it continued across the corresponding side of his torso. For the briefest of seconds, he turned his head to look at her fully, eyes wide and pleading, as he inadvertently revealed the connecting burn across the right side of his jawline and down his neck. The moment passed, and he lowered his face and sighed quietly.
Raw, red, sticky-looking flesh was visible in a few places, and as the healer set a small bowl on the table to free his hands, Lidia finally saw its contents: a small pile of dead, mottled tissue. How long had Illario been here, having his skin peeled off piece by blistered piece? Most of the burns looked deep enough to go past the pain, but in some places they were angry and crimson, shining as if wet.
The healer covered them one by one with bandages soaked in a healing solution as Illario tried to be still. “I told you that was my good side,” he muttered, his lips pressed into a thin line.
Lidia tucked the coin into her pocket and hoisted herself up onto the table beside him, legs kicking off the edge. “So… what happened?”
His eyes fell to the uninjured hand he had resting in his lap. “Magefire.” His voice sounded low, unenthusiastic - a far cry from the initial charm he laid on so thickly. “But this lovely gentleman here–” he motioned lightly toward the healer– “has assured me the wounds are not fatal. Just scarring. You’re crushed, I’m sure.”
Her headache throbbed dully, reminding her not to take his bait tonight. Instead, she said, “I’m just surprised you got hit at all. You’ve always been the luckiest bastard in Antiva.”
“Well, this time, I left Antiva.”
“Which you have done before, and you know what I meant anyway, idiot.”
He shrugged with his good arm, still refusing to meet her eyes. “Lucanis and I were cornered, and I stood in front of him. Foolish thing to do, I know. But I suppose I was trying to make up for something he would probably tell me not to worry about anyway. He was fine last time I saw him, if you’re concerned.”
“I’m not. Unless he tripped over something during his victory march, he’s alive and well…” She trailed off as she looked him over again. His right arm injured, mostly on the outside; his right side burnt while the left half of his body remained untouched; only the lower right corner of his jaw and cheek scorched… he shoved Lucanis behind him with his left arm and shielded his eyes with his right.
“Then I’m sure he’ll give me a stern talking-to for trying to protect him in the first place,” Illario said wearily, finally glancing up to her. “Who knows, maybe all I really achieved was making the First Talon look weak in front of the others.”
“Or making yourself look even more pathetic.”
“Which would just be impressive at this rate, no?” He breathed a soft, humorless laugh. “Illario Dellamorte, the Crow who lost all his dignity in record time. They’ll sing about my failures someday.”
As the healer left to attend to another patient, Lidia touched Illario’s leg, the weight of her hand pleasant and warm on his shin. “If nothing else, it was brave.”
He gave an indecisive tilt of his head. “It was also stupid.”
“More than one thing can be true.”
He gave a wan smile. “Lucanis probably would have been fine if he hadn’t been babysitting me in the first place.”
“Knowing him, he fought harder with you next to him.”
He studied her face, his eyes searching hers for a moment. “You’ve blood on you,” he said, nodding toward her hairline. “Your own?”
“I’m alright.”
“That’s not the answer to my question.”
She rolled her eyes. “It is mine, but I’m still alright.”
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Venatori.”
When she did not continue, he deadpanned, “The picture you’ve painted so far is vivid.”
“Don’t vex me, Illario.”
“Am I not allowed to ask for details? To be concerned for you?”
She glared at him. “Now you’re concerned about me?”
“One concussion makes another more likely,” he reminded her in that insufferably knowing tone of his. “And I would hate for my hard work in facilitating your recovery from that first one to go to waste.”
“Yes, but whose fault was my first concussion?”
Indignantly, he flattened his hand against his chest. “I accept no responsibility for the actions of previous targets.”
“But said previous target would have been asleep if it wasn’t for you playing hero.”
“Must we always revisit that night?”
“You brought it up!” Her head ached as she raised her voice, and she massaged her tender scalp gently as she closed her eyes.
His teasing smirk faded to a soft frown, but he replaced it with a subtle smile before joking, “And here I had hoped you would be kinder to me now that you’ve seen the extent of my injuries.”
“Not a chance. My skin is still crawling from being this close to you,” she answered while making no attempt to move farther away.
He arched a brow smugly. “Well, I suppose, as you said, more than one thing can be true.”
“I am… glad… you made it,” she managed reluctantly. “I was looking for you among our dead.”
“Hoping to see me with my skull split, were you?”
Her hand slid up and his uninjured one met her halfway. They locked gently at his side. “You would deserve it, but… no. I was hoping I wouldn’t see your boots.”
“Oh? And I would have thought you’d only know me by my gloves.”
I would know any part of you, her mind brought forth. She blanketed the thought and tucked it away to be scolded later.
“I suppose I’ll be escorted back to the villa and left there to recover,” Illario mused aloud when she didn’t answer his quip. “I wonder if it’ll be too much to ask for Caterina to let me stay in my own room again. And I’m sure Viago will be just as thrilled as you are that I survived.”
“He’s busy. I’ll take you.”
He sighed fondly - if a touch sadly - and stroked her knuckles with the pad of his thumb. “Do you remember the last time you took my care upon yourself? I don’t suppose you’ll be making me pastina this time.”
Lucanis’ wake. She made a hot meal every day and shared it with Illario in silence as they sat in his bed and he stared into the fireplace. At the time, she had no way of knowing that his grief was doubled by guilt and only compounded by her kindness. She did not regret it, not even now, and that frustrated her more than anything else.
She hopped off the table and pulled lightly on his arm. “On your feet, Dellamorte. Come on.”
He swung his legs over the side of the table and winced. “Where are we going?”
“Home. I’m not letting you take up space in the Diamond when others may need it more.”
“I won’t argue with the promise of a more comfortable seat,” he responded with a grimace as he rose to his feet. Looking down at their hands, still entwined between them, he added, “Though we could stop for coffee on the way…”
“The owners of Café Pietra could be lying under rubble in Minrathous right now.”
“...So, no?”
“No.”
She pulled him out the Diamond’s front door and they started the long walk back to Villa Dellamorte. Out of habit, Illario walked at her side so she was safely between him and the buildings. She pretended not to notice, but heat rose in her cheeks all the same.
At a side street, she directed him to turn, and when he gave her that quizzical where are you taking me look, she explained, “We have to stop at the market.”
“For what?”
“Pastina, idiot,” she said pointedly, as if it should have been obvious.
He smiled and leaned against her, further entangling their arms. “I don’t deserve you, cara mia.”
She glared at him sideways. “No, you don’t. And don’t call me that. Lucanis would be cross with me if I let his brother starve, that’s all this is.”
Neither of them knew if that really was the extent of it. But for once, he neither questioned nor corrected her.
She held his hand the whole way home, and they sat in silence as they shared a bowl of pastina on his bed. For a night, that could be enough.
#dragon age: the veilguard#datv fic#illario dellamorte#illarook#illario x oc#i guess i should probably start tagging this stuff as that instead of illarook since lidia has never been rook but it was for consistency o#anyway i hope you like this if you read all of it <3#oc: lidia valisti#datv spoilers#tw: injury#gracewrites#x: how easy you are to need#i am writing very much out of order#but i do also want to write that job they briefly mentioned so maybe i'll get around to that now that this is done#even though i still have to finish the false contract
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Paper 3
Masterlist
A/N: Happy New Year! 🥳 I’m sorry for the delay, but here is the final paper.
The support has been amazing, I hope you enjoyed this, because I really have so much fun writing it. 💙
Thank you so much for reading.🍒
The first phase was quite simple, most of the work will be in charge of Isabell and Gonzalo; Max only has to focus on racing.
With the excuse that Gonzalo will cover the races after the summer break, he pretends to watch all of them; every Sunday his sister-in-law without knowing will be softly bombarded with images and the voice of Max.
As Isabell anticipated, the first months she fought for barely put attention to anything related too, until Brazil where after a few races where Max wasn't at the podium, he came back in an unbelievable drive.
"Are you sure she said that?" Max covers his left ear trying to hear among all the noise of the club.
Isabell sighs. "Max I was next to her, I swear she said that."
Max smirks, unable to comprehend how a few words, not even from the person you want to hear, cause these feelings in him.
"I'm sorry but can you repeat it?" He sounds stupid he knows that.
"I told you, he won. He's totally unbelievable." Isabell said for the third time.
Max scoffs as he sees Daniel rolling his eyes among the crowd.
"We're such good plan makers." Isabell giggles. "Keep enjoying the night Max, we're in contact."
However, the little elf always has her ways to take him by surprise.
After Qatar with the Champions secured Max is on cloud nine in less than a month he will meet her again.
After the celebrations Max leaves one day after.; with an awful hangover as goes to the airfield, Isabell's phone call distracts him from his headache.
"Isabell hi, wha..." She didn't even let him end the sentence.
"Hey, Max, by any chance is there something symbolic between you two?” Max can clearly hear, she closes a door.
“What?” He sat inside of his jet trying to forget the headache. “Partners in crime are supposed to tell even the smallest detail.”
Isabell chuckles. “You’re doing your part, this is on me.” The silence that follows from Max, was enough for Isablle speaks one more time.
“We need to do something. She's convinced of giving a chance to John." Max is dizzy but he never heard that name.
He covers his eyes, trying to clear his head. "Who?"
"John, the boy I talked to you about." Max's mind clears, like someone throws at him a tray of cold water.
"The one who confesses..." He simply can finish that phrase.
"Yeah, that one." Isabell cleared her throat. "Listen, I don't know what happened but… Don’t worry, ok? Just give me something and I’ll be able to handle this.”
Max's head spins around this time, unsure if it’s totally for the alcohol or the way to remember something in this state is more difficult.
A couple of seconds later, he knows what to do. “Just make sure she sees a video when I tell you, ok?”
“Am, ok?” Isabell is about to say another thing until Max hears Gonzalo calling for her with what you can hear a crying baby in his hands.
“Let me take charge of this Isabell, I bet someone needs you more than me.” Max giggles.
“At this point I think both of you could need the same person. Wait a second.” Isabell mentioned, before screaming. “Hey! Sis! Someone is looking for you.”
Isabell tends to do this for Max, if she can help him to hear her, she will gladly do.
“Hi, baby girl.” It’s still unusual to hear her, her voice doesn’t change so much, but you can notice, the little girl is already grown up. “Your dad is being bad with you?”
Noah laughs. “Come on! When you’re here, she forgot she had lovely and amazing parents.” Gonzalo jokes making everyone giggle.
“Santa won’t bring you anything this Christmas.” Max smirks but even now, he refuses to imagine her, he wants to see her face to face. “Right Noah?”
“Do you mind? I have to make an important call, could you…” Isabell said like she isn’t in the middle of a call.
She laughs. “Another one who won’t have a present under the tree.”
Isabell laughs as Max hears steps getting far away. “Sorry Max, but…”
“I let you know about the video, now go, I bet you’re in the middle of a reunion.” Max takes his bottle of water to open it.
“We keep in contact Max, thanks.”
Max drinks his water with one thing in mind, he just needs to go back to the basics.
“What?” Max takes the things he will need for the video. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Abu Dhabi is the last race; with the Championships secured he is just there to enjoy what he can the last race.
One of the girls brings a thermometer as the other girl grabs the phone trying to figure out what he just asked.
“Come on, girls, this isn…” The other put the thermometer on his mouth, waiting with her arms crossed.
“You think we should call a doctor?” The girl with the phone shakes her head. “He could have something contagious.”
That makes everyone laugh as the beep announces it’s time to take it out. All normal, he doesn't have a fever.
“Ok, can you repeat it one more time Max?” Max scoffs and rolls his eyes.
“I want to do the marketing thing, you know with all these.” The two girls looked at each other in disbelief. “Please.”
The girl with the phone speaks trying to find sense to all he’s saying. “It’s a Christmas thing, it’s originally planned for…”
“I know, but it’s been a tough year, it would be nice, right?” Max smiles at them.
“Ok, likes are likes.” The girl with the phone gave him the last instructions before starting recording.
It’s a 30 second video that could easily be published without someone editing it, Max said what he must, however he put his little touch on it.
“Can I see it?” He asks by the time people start to spread searching for the next victim.
The girl gives him the phone, as he nods.
Max has a Christmas hat and a pair of navy blue gloves. He wished merry christmas and a happy new year, full of love and peace hoping all their wishes make it true.
Waving both hands with gloves at the end of the video.
“That friend is that special, huh?” The girl asks him, seeing how his face turns in a soft pink.
Max narrows his eyes, giving the phone to the girl. “You never wear gloves Max.”
He opens his eyes, is that obvious? “I’ll let you know when we post it, I hope this works to get closer to her.”
Max takes the gloves and the hat, hoping the same.
>It works!
Isbaell texted him a day after the release of the video. She doesn’t have a clue of how but with the topic in the air about spending Christmas in Benasque like the old times, her sister agrees to go one more time.
Isabell by accident let her phone replaying the video as they were having lunch; that night her sister said the most simple thing.
“I want to go too.” Winning the eyes of all her family. “It would be nice, like when we were kids.”
That’s all Max needs, from that moment on, all is on him.
With a stunned expression from his family he let them know this Christmas he will spend it in Benasque.
“Max…” Victoria thought it’s the same reckless decision every year. “It’s been almost a year, and no one contacted you, so there is a big chance she has already forgotten it.”
Max shakes his head, taking another bite of his salad. “I know.”
“Then why?” Victoria let her glass on the table loudly, making her brother look at her.
“I believe in the big guy.” Max points the fluffy toy of Santa Claus in the Christmas tree.
Victoria covers her face, knowing this is useless like every year.
Max arrived one week earlier to make all the arrangements he needs, going one side to the other; a lot of the people of the town look at him like he’s totally crazy and other like he’s seeing the little kid who used to be dragged for his little friend as she they keep rambling about the most silly things.
As Isabell said, they arrived on the 22nd of December, the first day all would be casual, like years ago, just with a few people added to the plan.
His little elf spent the first day making a new tour, changing the order of a few places she used to visit, with different hours. In each one of them a warm welcome waits for her all saying the same, it’s nice having her here one more time.
The second day, she made a short one this time with baby Noah, showing the palaces where she and her mother used to play and spend time when they were kids.
Here is where the owner of the clockmaker's workshop made the special intervention, mentioning like some things are destined to be.
Finally the 24th of December it’s the day.
“Are you sweating on the snow?” Louis asked him, waiting to make his special performance.
Max scoffs smiling, but yes, his hands feel wet. “A little bit?”
Louis nods, as they sit in front of the big old clock. “Is she what the old people call, true love?”
Max narrowed his eyes, such a deep question for a 7 year old boy. “My mom said that from my dad and my dad said that from my mom. So I guess if you’re doing this for a friend, it must be, right?”
Max doesn’t have time to answer because the lady of the bakery appears on the corner with a beanie on her head, his little elf already passed by and bought her favorite cookie, white chocolate chips.
“That's my sign, good luck sweaty man.” Max giggles, if Santa can’t bring what he wants for Christmas, he and Louis' mother already made a deal.
Louis runs to the bookstore as Max runs to the other side ready to take his place.
Max can picture the sequence, Louis with one blue paper in his pockets, will found the girl wearing a blue navy coat and a cookie in her hand; he will wish her a merry Christmas giving her the paper, claiming if she wouldn’t mind to take this to the old clockmaker's workshop, knowing she’s stubborn for making people wish true, she would open it, and will read it.
>Please go to the funny tree.
The funny tree is an old tree in the limits of the town, with a big twisted trunk and a lot of branches. Since they found it, swear in spring this must be insane, full of green leaves all over the place.
She will turn around to ask him how he knows but the kid will be running to the bakery for his dozen cookies.
Max moves around the tree with trembling hands pressing together, putting in his pocket just for a second later taking them out, unable to stay calm.
Not everything goes according to the plan.
Max hears a shaking breath while he is at the back of the tree, raising his eyes he finds her with a shock expression on her face.
Max curses inside because he wants to surprise her.
“Little elf.” Max said feeling all the energy of his body drained in a couple of words.
She’s beautiful as always, the red tones of her face due the cold already there, her big eyes looking at him; her lips that used to be with a soft pink, now are a little bit red too. She’s taller, not more than him but the old little girl is far gone.
“Max.” She said as a smile formed in her face.
Max, along 10 years, believes there isn’t another sound in the world that he loves more than her laughs. Now, the simple way his name sounds in her voice makes it a tough competition.
She laughs at the fact Max is frozen in his place in front of a tree with Christmas lights around dry branches. Like always, she takes the initiative and runs to him to hug him standing in her tiptoes; her arms around his neck hiding her face on his shoulders.
“It’s actually you.” Max's brain stops working and he curses himself inside, by the fact it took him 1 minute to move his arms around her waist.
It’s surreal having her one more time, like this.
“Fuck! I miss you like hell.” He said, hearing her giggling. “I’m so sorry for not coming that year but I was so busy, it was my big chance and all of us believe leaving the UK it's a stupid decision but I came the next year and you…”
She grabs his face, crashing their lips in a soft peck.
“Why do you always say so much when all you h..” Max doesn't waste any second more, he is sick of it.
He grabs her face but this time his kiss is demanding, showing how much he missed her all these years… and how much he loves her.
With her face between his hands and a big smile on both faces, so close to each other, Max whispers to her lips.
“Like I suspect…” She narrows her eyes. “It’s always been you.”
She giggles, throwing her arms around his neck one more time. “What a relief because this will be so awkward.”
Max smiles, giving her a peck. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”
Louis is right, this is what true love feels; for Max, now has a name, Y/N.
Max nods repeating the name over and over again, like he could forget it.
“You’re still frozen hands.” She said as Max put his hands in her pockets pulling her closer. “Can I ask you something?”
Max nods with a glimpse of fear in his eyes. “How?”
“12 paper wishes, a few streams, a reporter, a whole marketing team, a duo of helpers….” Max raises his eyebrows “And a baby.”
Y/N eyes wide open. “My sister? Do you… She isn’t…”
“She wanted me kind of far away…” Max sees her biting her lip. “I was willing to do it. I got it, she only wants the best for her little sister.”
“Although…” She raises her eyes and tingles her fingers with Max inside of her pocket.
“It took me a while, I'm not going to lie, I want to make sure to make the right decision for both of us.” The golden lights that reflected in her eyes made Max’s heart beat like crazy.
“Then I came back here…As you did after snowing in Rome, like me every Christmas, and I realized what you do, as always first.” It was a charming feeling having a clear image of the face from this wonderful woman sitting in front of T.V watching him race every week, probably rolling her eyes at every rage attack he had.
“That I love you.” A trembling breathing begins unsure from who came first.
“M..” He can't resist, having her so close it feels breathtaking.
He takes one hand out of her pocket to grab her face and kiss her.
“Why? I mean how can you trust me so easily?" Y/N observe right to his eyes with a pledging expression.
Max licks his lips. "You didn't even know who I was and you kept encouraging me, you watched all my races, fought to keep all our promises, worried about me even in the slightest things... You keep me warm and make me believe in magic from an early age."
Y/N chuckles as her free hand rests on his neck. "If that's not love, I don't know what the hell is that?" Y/N clicks her tongue.
"You could lie to me." Max laughs, resting his forehead against hers.
"Do you see that?" He closed his eyes after seeing the backpack next to the tree.”You’ll have a lot of red these days, believe me.”
“What?” Y/N perks at his back, seeing the black backpack.
“I’ll write to you every day.” The tears form in her eyes, Y/N swear Max moved on from this bond many years ago, this is something she didn't even dare to dream.
“Or… You know, just in case I can steal you for a couple of days.” She grabs his jacket. “You could read it to me.���
Max remembers the day where they sat in front of the old clockmaker's workshop, as he read to her Christmas stories, with the firm purpose that a little of the Chritsmas spirit caught him.
“Deal.” Max sighs. “Do you think I can steal you for more than a couple of days?”
Y/N raises her eyebrows tilting her head. “You know…”
“I have never been to Monaco.” Max surrenders her waist with his arms giving her a peck.
“I can give you a small tour.” Y/N grabs his face, giving him a peck. “Let’s go, we’re on time.”
“For what?” Y/N careness his hair.
“Write a wish for Santa Claus.” Max hasn’t realized it’s been a while he felt this way, so lighter and in calmness.
“In a pretty paper?” Max chuckles, nodding before pressing her against his chest, connecting two hearts.
The old man observes the other side of the street, what used to be two small kids, one boy looking so marvelous to a girl who is writing every letter so carefully; now it turns into a man and a woman writing face to face with a smile stealing small kisses every time their eyes meet.
He leaned on the counter next to the big Santa Claus.
“It’s a secret between you and me, but let’s be honest, we started all this.” The old man smirks when he sees Max and Y/N folding their papers. “And your magic mailbox.”
They cross the street to open the red mailbox, put their wishes in, then waving their hands to the old man in his classic red velvet suit.
Now they’re the young adults that go down the street holding hands hoping a Christmas wish comes true.
“Merry Christmas kids.” The old man whispers and sees Max’s left hand on Y/N pocket, as he takes the box inside. “Just a small glance.”
The old man smiles while folding the papers one more time. These wishes…are so precious.
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 x female reader#max verstappen imagine#christmas writing#happy holidays#merry christmas
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#mmm I think I am once again (or still?) in that ''I NEED to do something radically different with my art or I'll die'' headspace#but I feel like.... ehh.... the things I kinda want to experiment with are so radically different from what I've /been/ doing#and I'm just kinda 👀💦.....#it's a little bit I don't want to alienate the audience I've built even though I think for the most part y'all would be chill#like idk maybe I'm just Working Through Some Shit but I lowkey want to do some horror/gore#I know that's not really the crowd I'm working with here but I think most of you would just roll with it gfsdgsd#BUT also it's like... I'm so bored with what I'm doing lately but also I hate being bad at things LMAO augh....
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seriously, though. i work in higher education, and part of my job is students sending me transcripts. you'd think the ones who have the least idea how to actually do that would be the older ones, and while sure, they definitely struggle with it, i see it most with the younger students. the teens to early 20s crowd.
very, astonishingly often, they don't know how to work with .pdf documents. i get garbage phone screenshots, sometimes inserted into an excel or word file for who knows what reason, but most often it's just a raw .jpg or other image file.
they definitely either don't know how to use a scanner, don't have access to one, or don't even know where they might go for that (staples and other office supply stores sometimes still have these services, but public libraries always have your back, kids.) so when they have a paper transcript and need to send me a copy electronically, it's just terrible photos at bad angles full of thumbs and text-obscuring shadows.
mind bogglingly frequently, i get cell phone photos of computer screens. they don't know how to take a screenshot on a computer. they don't know the function of the Print Screen button on the keyboard. they don't know how to right click a web page, hit "print", and choose "save as PDF" to produce a full and unbroken capture of the entirety of a webpage.
sometimes they'll just copy the text of a transcript and paste it right into the message of an email. that's if they figure out the difference between the body text portion of the email and the subject line, because quite frankly they often don't.
these are people who in most cases have done at least some college work already, but they have absolutely no clue how to utilize the attachment function in an email, and for some reason they don't consider they could google very quickly for instructions or even videos.
i am not taking a shit on gen z/gen alpha here, i'm really not.
what i am is aghast that they've been so massively failed on so many levels. the education system assumed they were "native" to technology and needed to be taught nothing. their parents assumed the same, or assumed the schools would teach them, or don't know how themselves and are too intimidated to figure it out and teach their kids these skills at home.
they spend hours a day on instagram and tiktok and youtube and etc, so they surely know (this is ridiculous to assume!!!) how to draft a formal email and format the text and what part goes where and what all those damn little symbols means, right? SURELY they're already familiar with every file type under the sun and know how to make use of whatever's salient in a pinch, right???
THEY MUST CERTAINLY know, innately, as one knows how to inhale, how to type in business formatting and formal communication style, how to present themselves in a way that gets them taken seriously by formal institutions, how to appear and be competent in basic/standard digital skills. SURELY. Of course. RIGHT!!!!
it's MADDENING, it's insane, and it's frustrating from the receiving end, but even more frustrating knowing they're stumbling blind out there in the digital spaces of grown-up matters, being dismissed, being considered less intelligent, being talked down to, because every adult and system responsible for them just
ASSUMED they should "just know" or "just figure out" these important things no one ever bothered to teach them, or half the time even introduce the concepts of before asking them to do it, on the spot, with high educational or professional stakes.
kids shouldn't have to supplement their own education like this and get sneered and scoffed at if they don't.
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FIRST masterlist! This masterlist has all my writing from 06/02/24 up until 01/10/24 — for my recent works click on my SECOND MASTERLIST <3
Men In Uniform Do It Best!
Dirty Lil' Secrets
A Picture Lasts Long (But Not As Long As That D*ck)
I'm Addicted, I Admit It!
Give Me Tough Love
Never Ever Seen This Before!
We Don't Have No Babies!
Like A Fever
Bad Things (To You)
Prettier When Messy!
Care For You!
Green-eyed Monster
So Lonely In My Mansion!
Kiss Me More!
Girl, I Do This Often
Cause, I Love Freaks!
Sl*t Me Out!
Match My Freak!
WAP!
R U Mine?
Hot To Go!
Girl, You Earned It!
I'm A BIG Stepper!
BODY-ODY!
SOOO ANXIOUS
Long Overdue!
THIS P*SSY DEPRESSED!
The Family Matter?!
I-T G-I-R-L!
I Lasted Ten Rounds!
BRAT!
She's My Vitals!
Three's a Crowd (But Four...) — “So, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?” “Why? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?” In which you and your boyfriend find very unconventional uses for his powers.
Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? [Part 1] [Part 2] — There were two things missing in the scene in front of you: 1. The aphrodisiac chocolate your friends had given as a gag gift last Christmas that had been hidden away in the back of your refrigerator. 2. Your dear fiancé.
Dream A Little Dream — For the strongest, it was a privilege to dream. Especially when his dream is you.
Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?
One More? Please? — A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?
Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers... — You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.
Hope They Catch Us — When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.
Unmistakably Yours — In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.
Madam Gojo — Gojo Satoru, the strongest clan leader in all of Japan - and the most dangerous, too. You, rejected by the elders, and totally not his future bride, right? Right?
Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) — In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.
The Heir — No, your clan leader husband won’t stop until he gives you an heir. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive.
The Call — After an explosive fight with your boyfriend, you really should feel sorry about being swept up by the blue-eyed stranger at the club - but it’s so hard when he kisses you like that.
Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy — He knows that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels. And you know that you want nothing more than to stay by his side. After meeting an alluring cowboy at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, both of you are sure of one thing - this must be fate.
Go For It, Gojo! [Part 1] [Part 2] — You wouldn’t fuck Gojo Satoru even if you were paid…is what you thought exactly five minutes before you were shoved against the wall of this cramped closet, his face stuffed in your soaked panties.
Unhoneymooners!? — The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.
AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! — When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.
Bad Boys Bring Roses — You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?
The Way You Kiss Me — The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.
Isn't That Sweet? (I Guess So) — Oh no! Why do your pantíes keep disappearing? Well, maybe your hot roommate knows the answer…
Haunting You — A bIoody trail of vampire attácks, a political marriage, and four suitors you’re forced to choose from - all haunting you. But none as much as the mysterious stranger that makes everything in you scream that you might just be fated for the very thing your kingdom is trying to escape from.
You'll Taste Me Too! — How do you last three days on a work trip with the man you hate the most in the office? You don’t - you end up pinned underneath him, instead.
We Neva Play! — Turns out, the “r” in rivals stands for “really good séx” when a mission becomes a little too hot to handle.
Something Stupid — Five times the strongest would rather díe than tell you he loves you, and the one time he almost does. Almost.
Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?
Like An Animal — Of course Toji doesn’t want any more kids. Of course he’s lying as he stuffs your pretty cúnt full of his cúm for the third time tonight.
Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You — When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company!
Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers... — You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.
F*ck You! (Literally) — Of course, you hated your ex-husband. Of course, you found yourself in bed with him on your wedding anniversary.
Government Hooker — With the fame and glory of being an international popstar comes the inevitable threat of an overzealous stalker. You just didn’t think that it would also come with a very sexy, buff bodyguard behind your every move.
Madam Zenin — There’s nothing that rouses Toji, the infamous head of the Zenin clan, nothing that will make him lose control - until they take what’s most important to him. You.
Brooklyn Baby — Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.
Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?
Golden Boy — Falling right back in love with the cult leader you’re supposed to kíll? Happens more often than you’d think.
Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?
A Million Dollar Baby! — Turns out, rent can be paid in much more than one way.
Welcome To The Itadori's! — Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does.
FIVE! — Five hours - it’s all it takes for Choso’s baby fever to take over. After all, you’d look so pretty with his kid - five of them, in fact.
Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) — When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.
Freak On The Cam! — Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?
Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) — In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.
Exes who...
Love Is Blind
“She My Best Friend, Yeah We Not a Couple.”
Wanna Do Bad Things To You
I Wanna Get Freaky On Camera
Lemme Ride, Baby!
Can I Fill You Up, Baby?
"Pull On It. Harder."
Little Heaven
©2024 tonycries. All work belongs to @tonycries. Do NOT repost, modify, translate or plagiarize in any way on ANY platforms. This includes themes, headers, and pinned.
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So High School | Kim Mingyu
pairing: fiancé!mingyu x pregnant!fem!reader
rating: fluff, mature
genre: non-idol au, slice of life, established relationship
summary: you and your fiancé haven't discussed the idea of you having children, but with your wedding approaching, the idea of starting a family with him has been on your mind.
warnings: please read ALL! contains smut! not much but a little! (!!!) some time skips, reader gets pregnant, planned pregnancy, reader's mom loves mingyu, reader deals with morning sickness (for my fellow emetophobics this may be triggering!), minwon coworkers mentioned, smut warnings: creampie, unprotected sex, multiple rounds mentioned, backshots, fingering.
word count: 3k
AHEM! go listen to so high school by taylor swift (perhaps while you read!)
author's note!: i listened to taylor waaaay too much while i was writing this, as you can probably tell by the title 🫣 what can i say! guilty. my first time writing slice of life au! i had fun lowkey. AGHHH i just love writing cute mingyu esp when it involves future dad mingyu. the song lyrics are meant to be spacers for the time-skips btw! shoutout to @jenoslutie for also supporting my vision with this 💋 muah xo
click here to join my taglist!
I feel so high school every time I look at you, I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you...
Mingyu was your dream man in many ways than one. The perfect boy to bring home to your parents, cooked delicious meals for you, and overall made you feel safe.
You two had been engaged for months now, and wedding planning was well underway, the date set for early into the new year. As if it wasn’t stressful enough, your mom had already started questioning whether the two of you had wanted children, or planned to in the future. The answer was always the same,
“Mom, I don’t know… we haven’t talked about it into a lot of detail… maybe later on…” or “C’mon, we’re still young, Mom!”
Mingyu didn’t know any of this, and you’d probably never tell him, not wanting him to feel pressured by your badgering mother. You both knew you wanted children eventually, but you never talked that far into the future.
But… you also thought… maybe you would want to have children, if it was with Mingyu.
Mingyu would be the father to play dress up and makeovers with your daughter, have tea parties with her, or play with faux tools with your son and pretend to fix things, and play with plastic dinosaurs.
You couldn't picture anybody that would be more perfect to do it with than him.
Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It's just a game, but really I'm bettin' on all three for us two...
Mingyu stands at the kitchen counter, cooking dinner like he usually does, and he usually insists since he gets home a little earlier from work than you do most days.
You come from the kitchen after changing out of your work clothes to see him chopping garlic as a pot is boiling on the stove.
“What are you making?”
“Agio e olio,” Mingyu responds, looking up to smile at you briefly. “I know it’s your favorite, and you said you were craving it.”
You smile, coming over to kiss him on the cheek quickly. “Thank you, you make it so good anyway.” You chuckle as he playfully rolls his eyes.
He tosses the garlic in a pan on the stove, stirring it a little, then adds the pasta to the boiling water.
You decide now is the time to break your silence, and tell him what’s been on your mind lately.
“Gyu,” You speak up. “… I think we should talk about something.”
“What?” Mingyu’s gaze turns to meet yours, a concerned look on his face, and you immediately want to kiss him and make it go away.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been thinking…” You pause, racking your brain on how to word what you’re about to tell him, also given that you didn’t want to scare him. “What do you think about us… having a baby?”
You look up at his undeniable surprised expression; after all you did come out of nowhere with that statement.
“I mean, I know we haven’t really discussed it much, and we’re getting married in a few months… but I have been thinking about it a lot, and I want to, we’re at that age-“ You break out into a nervous ramble before he cuts you off.
“I’ve thought about it too. I thought it should be something that we should…you know… talk about.” Mingyu says.
“I don’t want to put any pressure on you, or I guess, on us.” You continue. “I know we’re not married officially yet, and our wedding isn’t until a few more months, but I don’t know, I think I want to.”
Mingyu turns to you, smiling ear to ear in the adorable happy puppy way he typically does when he’s over the top excited about something. “I know, me too.”
“Does this mean… we’re trying?” You can’t even hide your smile, your cheeks hurt as you attempt to be the least bit nonchalant.
“Yeah… fuck… c’mere.” Mingyu pulls you closer to him, kissing you fervently.
You pull back, releasing his grip from your waist.
“Hey, after dinner,” You smirk, giggling at his eagerness. “You’re gonna burn your garlic.”
“Mingyu… I can’t, fuck-“ You whine, your face nearly buried into the pillow underneath you.
“Yeah you can baby…” Mingyu grunts, his hand slides up your back to push you down even more. “Taking it all like a good girl…”
You nearly collapse as you can barely hold yourself up anymore, and you’re being pushed forward almost to the headboard from the force of him behind you.
“I’m gonna come, ‘gyu.” You cry, your hand trailing down to rub tight circles on your clit, making your thighs tremble as you push yourself closer to the edge.
“Go on baby…” Mingyu groans, feeling you get tighter around him. “Cum all over my cock like a good girl.”
You cry his name again as he pushes you over the edge, white-knuckling the sheets as he keeps thrusting inside you, almost even harder.
“Fuck…” He groans as he slows down, stilling before he comes inside you.
He pulls out, watching himself drip out of you briefly as he curses under his breath, before he pushes it back inside you with two fingers, making you whine.
“Sorry, baby…” Mingyu sweetly apologizes.
You flip over on your back, pulling him down to kiss him.
“I wanna go again…” You say against his lips, pushing his sweaty long hair back.
“Really?” He asks sweetly, leaning down to kiss your neck a few times. “Wasn’t too much?”
“Never…”
Truth, dare, spin bottles, You know how to ball, I know Aristotle Brand new, full-throttle, Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto...
The next few weeks were just the usual. Going into work during the day, shopping for the wedding with your sister, … Mingyu practically never leaving you alone, but that you wouldn’t complain about.
“What kind of flowers are you guys doing?” Your sister asks you. The two of you made plans to get coffee, and you guys typically talked about whatever. She always voiced her opinion on your life whether it was boyfriends, career moves, and now: your wedding.
“White lilies; one of my favorites. Mingyu said I could just pick what I wanted, he’s happy with whatever I choose.” You say.
“That’s sweet,” She smiles, stirring her matcha latte. “Even though, he probably doesn’t care.” She chuckles.
“You’re probably right, I think he has other things on his mind other than flowers.” You laugh, only you know what you mean by that.
You never told her the both of you had been trying to have a baby.
“I’ve always liked him, though, you know that.” She smiles. “If there’s anybody you marry and spend forever with, i'm glad it’s him. He’s just right for you.”
You smile, glancing down as your gaze flickers on your sparkling engagement ring under the coffee shop lights.
You’re definitely glad it’s him.
“Do you mind if we go into the grocery store down the street? I need to just run in and get a few things.” She asks you.
You nod. “Yeah, that’s fine. I could probably use a few things too.”
“How do you know if a watermelon is a really good one?” She asks you, as the fruit by the entrance catches her eye.
“You’re asking me?” You laugh. “I have no idea, I have heard though if they’re a dark green, it’s too watery.”
“You were always good at picking them, I know Mom used to always say that.” She replies. “Maybe I won’t get one, are they even in season?”
“Probably not, it’s November. Anyway, what did you need here?” You say, grabbing a hand basket for yourself.
“Just usual stuff, yogurt… eggs, oat milk, some strawberries… whatever else I find that I think i need.” She says, placing strawberries and avocados in her cart. Already straying from the list.
You follow her, bagging up some apples, cucumbers, and brussel sprouts into your basket.
You’re both wandering down the ice cream aisle, as you’re grabbing whatever pint of peanut butter ice cream you can find, when your sister speaks up.
“Oh! Let’s go to the hygiene section, I need to get some tampons. That time of the month soon.”
You pause, ice cream in hand, suddenly racking your brain trying to remember when the last time your period was. A few weeks ago? Last month? Were you supposed to get it? Were you late?
“Y/n…? What’s wrong? Everything okay?” She asks, seemingly able to read your inner monologue going on in your head.
“Y-yeah…” You reply, placing the ice cream in your basket, all while your heart is still racing. Was it joy? Nervousness? “It’s just… I can’t remember the last time I had my period…”
I'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night Your friends are around, so be quiet, I'm trying to stifle my sighs 'Cause I feel so high school, Every time I look at you...
“I feel bad doing this without him,” You say, staring down at the two blinking pregnancy tests on the counter. “Mingyu should be here…”
“He’ll be home from work soon won’t he? You’ll tell him then. C’mon, he’ll understand, practically sister code for me to be the first one to know.” She replies, checking the time on her phone.
It’s true, you both always did tell each other everything before you told anybody else.
“It’s almost time.”
“I can’t look.” You anxiously turn away. “It’s killing me.”
“How did this happen?” She asks. “I mean… not to be nosey….”
“Well we talked about it, and we’ve been kinda… sorta, trying to get pregnant.”
“What?! How come you didn’t tell me you were?” She exclaims, playfully shoving you.
“We decided to about a little over a month ago. We talked about it, we decided it was something we both wanted,” You start, just as her phone timer goes off, you quickly turn around from the counter. “Oh my god, oh my god, I can’t look.”
“I’ll do it first,” She says, shoving her way in front of you. “Oh my god… y/n…” You can hear the excitement and smile in her voice.
You turn around, facing the two tests.
You see it, “pregnant”, displayed clearly on both.
“Oh my god, I don’t,” You almost stutter, lost for words. “I- I don’t know what to say.”
“Good news?” She asks.
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You smile, suddenly becoming teary, feeling a bunch of emotions at once. Excitement. Nervousness. “I just- fuck… I wish Mingyu was here. I didn’t want to find out like this.”
“Relax, you’ll tell him later,” She laughs. “Especially ‘cause I know you won’t be able to keep this from him long.”
“No, you’re absolutely right. There’s no way I’m holding it in.”
And in a blink of a crinkling eye I'm sinking, our fingers entwined Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me...
You spend the evening trying to decide elaborate ways that you’ll tell him.
Putting a test in a gift bag as a present? Corny.
Hiding it somewhere and letting him find it? Too lame.
You decided to literally just come right out and tell him, especially because you didn’t want to figure out some cliche way of getting it out.
Mingyu comes home from work, greeting you as he walks in the door, adorably kissing your forehead as he wraps his arms around you, perfectly engulfing you.
“How was your day, honey?” He sweetly asks you, genuinely curious as he’s awaiting your answer.
“It was good actually, I had coffee with my sister, then we went to the grocery store, doesn’t sound like much but we had fun.” You lean up and kiss his lips, smiling.
“But it’s better now that you’re here.”
Mingyu smiles, kissing you again.
“I’m going to get changed really quick, okay?” Mingyu says.
You jokingly pout. “Aw, but you look so nice in your slacks and button up shirt… at least let me savor it.” You reach up, undoing a few buttons on his shirt.
“Enjoying this?” Mingyu chuckles.
“Yes, very.” You smile.
“Well I was gonna ask you, if you wanted to, Wonwoo and Seungcheol asked if we wanted to go out and get dinner with them, and hang out maybe get some drinks.” He continues, before he starts walking off to your shared bedroom to change, as you follow him. “Wonwoo asked me before I left the office.”
“I don’t know… maybe?” You reply, hesitating a bit.
Meanwhile your mind works a mile a minute trying to think of how to break this news of yours to him.
“It wouldn’t be until a little later, if that’s better. No rush.” Mingyu says, nonchalantly unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off. What a distraction.
He slips on a white t-shirt , and gray sweatpants; his usual after work attire. Suddenly you wonder if whatever you have to tell him is really that important anyway, and you immediately consider just saying “forget it” and fucking him right here in the early hours of the evening. What’d be the big deal? You were already pregnant, anyways.
No! You quickly shake that thought from your mind, refocusing.
“Gyu,” You start, getting his full attention. “There’s something… I have to tell you something.”
“What?”
“I’m not even really sure how to tell you, um hang on,” You continue, leaving the room quickly to retrieve one of the pregnancy tests you’d left in the bathroom.
You come back, very obviously holding something behind your back.
“I guess I should say I kind of have a surprise to tell you.”
“What? What?” Mingyu asks, eager already by the way you’re already smirking, unable to contain yourself.
“It’s, um, this…” You start, pulling the test from behind your back. “I didn’t know how to tell you, I was gonna plan something but I couldn’t wait.” You laugh, smiling ear to ear.
Mingyu takes it from you, seemingly uncaring, or forgetting, that you literally peed on the thing. His mouth drops opened, in awe.
“Oh my god…” He speaks, beaming. “When did you find out?”
“Today, actually.” You say. “I wound up taking a test, and… yeah.”
You sigh. “I feel so weird about it, I know I was expecting it but I feel so excited and nervous at the same time.”
You glance up at Mingyu, and you see him still examining the test in his hand.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu nods, his eyes meeting yours and you see he’s now smiling. “I’m just… happy, surprised..”
“I mean, cmon, what were we really expecting…” You joke, blushing.
“You know what I mean, it’s still crazy to me.” Mingyu comes closer to you, kissing you.
“Yeah, it sure is…” You smile up at him.
“It’s okay, honey,” Mingyu reassures you, speaking softly. “Just get it out…”
Mingyu kneels behind you on the cold tile floor, holding your hair back as you’re hanging your head over the toilet as your stomach empties its contents.
“There you go…”
You wonder how he can even stand to be in the bathroom with you, if the roles were reversed, you’d be outside the door nearly gagging.
“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks, helping you sit up, as he wraps his arms around you to keep you steady.
You slowly nod as you flush, still feeling a touch of nausea. “Yeah, can you just- just stay here for a little bit.”
Mingyu sits on the tile floor as he leans against the bathtub, and he guides you back to sit in front of him.
You lean back into him, and he leans down and kisses your shoulder. You catch a glance at his watch on his wrist even in the dim light of the very early morning.
“Oh my god, Gyu, is it really 5am?” You groggily ask, feeling sorry. “You have to work in the morning, don’t you?”
“Shh, it’s okay, it’s not a big deal.” Mingyu reassures you. “I can always go in a little later, I wanna make sure you’re okay.”
“…I think I’m good now,” You say, starting to stand up slowly, as Mingyu helps you all the way. “…You know, I have heard that the more nauseas you are, it probably means you’re having a girl. And if you have none at all, it’s probably a boy.”
Mingyu chuckles, “Where do you come up with this? Is that even a thing?”
“The internet… you know, social media. Everything’s on there.” You protest.
“You’re delirious,” Mingyu playfully rolls his eyes. “Cmon, let’s go back to bed.”
“Gyu, we have to leave in like an hour,” You say, as you’re getting ready in the bathroom, finishing up your final touches on your hair. “I don’t want to be late for dinner at my parents house.”
Mingyu stands in the doorway now, “This okay?” He shows off a navy blue polo shirt and black jeans.
“Yeah, honey, you look nice.” You smile. “Besides, you could wear anything around her, she adores you anyways.”
It was true. Your mother would always be calling Mingyu to help around the house when your Father was away on a business trip. She needed help fixing something? She’d call Mingyu. She needs help building a side table? You bet she’s calling Mingyu. His height was also a bonus, being able to reach things stored higher up.
Mingyu smiles at you adoringly, as his eyes trail down your body.
“What?” You ask when you notice him.
“You’re starting to show a little,” He smiles. “You look cute.”
You giggle, placing your hands on your stomach. “Yeah I know, she wants to be seen now, she’s done hiding.”
“Well, are my girls ready to go?” Mingyu smiles, kissing you.
“Yeah,” You giggle, smiling as you kiss him again. “Let’s go.”
It's true, swear, scouts honor You knew what you wanted and boy, you got her.
tags: @jenoslutie @wonuwrites @aaniag @cosmojinyoung
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Pretty When You Cry [Father Charlie Mayhew x reader]
pt. 2
Word Count: 1916
Warnings: manhandling, kinda munch! Charlie, one slap, mean! Dom Charlie, blasphemy (they fuck in the church😬)
A/N: not my gifs! I have the originals reblogged on my page😘 this was actually already being written and then I got an anon request for basically exactly what I was already writing!! Hope ya like it hehe 🙃 i also dont really ever write like this kind of smut so i hope i did good!!
Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.
You weren't a religious person by any means. But staying the night at your parents had you up early, trying to find the most church-appropriate outfit. of course, your parents failed to tell you that they were planning on bringing you along to church. Your skirt was a bit too short. But it is not like you had room to complain with such short notice!
You remember going to high school with Father Charlie— or as you knew him Charlie. The two of you didn't run with the same crowds-- but you knew each other.
Now, here you were. Paying no attention to the words coming from his mouth and all attention to how good he looked. Damn-- maybe you should have shot your shot years ago when he was a personal trainer.
As you watched him at the head of the room, you allowed your mind to wander.
One extremely long and boring sermon later, you stand awkwardly behind your parents as they talk to what Seems like every member of the church. God how you regret agreeing to come-- It's not like you knew anyone here- none of your friends went to church. But here you were, being judged by middle-aged churchgoers. How fun.
The sound of your name being called catches your attention.
You whip your head around to the noise, "Father Charlie!" The name is unnatural as it falls from your lips. You quickly look at your parents- too engrossed in a conversation. “It's been a while!" You awkwardly step closer to the man.
He hums, "It has been, hasn't it? The first time in the church as well.”
“Well, you know...” You gesture back to your parents.
"I'm assuming this wasn't on your schedule.” He looks you up and down, “Given your attire.”
You gasp sharply, heat rising to your face as you pathetically try to pull your skirt down. "I-uh,” you try to think of an excuse, "I didn't pack any pants..." You lie-- lying in a church is one thing but to the priest?
If Charlie sensed your lie he didn't comment on it. "Well, I hope you enjoyed today's sermon.”
"I did!" You lie again, a little too enthusiastically.
Charlie narrows his eyes at you, "You weren't paying attention, were you?" His voice is playful.
"No, I was not," You quickly confess.
He laughs, you have to fight to not stare shamefully at his beautiful face for too long. "That's odd— because when I looked at you, you looked very focused," He teases.
“I wasn't paying attention to your voice. Just your fa-" you stop in your tracks. Utterly petrified at the situation you have just found yourself in. His eyebrows raise in surprise at your slip-up. “I mean I didn't even know that you could see me in that crowd-- I-I- just figured that-”
“That every time we locked eyes it wasn't on purpose?” he finishes your thought.
You nod pathetically, your shoes suddenly extremely interesting.
Charlie takes a step towards you, the proximity making you look up at the man. Has he always been that tall? "I want you to go into my office and wait for me.” His voice is a seductive tone you have never heard him use before. It sends a shiver down your spine.
“But what about my parents?” you ask, voice just above a whisper.
“Dont worry about them,” he assures before walking away. Leaving you standing alone— stunned.
To say you were terrified was an understatement. Sure, you weren't in any danger-- at least you didn't think so. What exactly had you gotten yourself into? Here you sat, in a priest's office. Surrounded by biblical Imagery. And you were 99% Sure you were soaked through your cotton panties, you didn't care. No one but you was going to know... right?
Five minutes turned to ten. You sat anxiously in the chair across from Charlie's desk. A clock on the wall ticked away obnoxiously. You had figured when you walked in it would take him a while for him to return. how long should you wait? Has he forgotten that you were sitting in his office, impatiently waiting? You didn't dare to snoop, or even scroll on your phone. Charlie said to wait for him, and that's what you would do.
For thirty minutes you're alone in that office. you straighten your posture when you hear the clicks of Charlie’s boots nearing. The sound of the door opening makes you flinch pathetically. You don't dare turn around. Eyes glued on the desk in front of you.
Charlie is silent as he moves around behind you. Your pulse pounds in your throat at the anticipation.
“You seem nervous.” You tense at his voice, still refusing to turn around and face the man.
You try to swallow the lump in your throat, “I am nervous, Father.” You press your thighs together in an atempt to find some sort of relief to your throbbing center.
He groans quietly from behind you, “look at me.”
Like a magnet your head whips around to look at the man. His sharp gaze made your breath hitch. You felt hazy as he stepped towards you. Your eyes locked on his as he comes to stand right in front of you. Your breath quickens when he captures your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger.
Charlies predatory gaze on you deepens, his lips curling into a smirk, "you--" he rubs the lipstick on your mouth, smudging it. "Are such a pretty mess for me, darling.”
You bat your eyelashes up at him, “I don't know what you mean, Father.”
He grips the sides of your face harshly, cheeks smushing together into a pout. “Showing up to my church dressed like a slut—” he spits, “shamlessly eyefucking me the whole time like you were the only one in the room.”
You whimper at his words— he was right of course. But that didn't stop your face from flushing in embarrassment.
“Now look at you. Slut. Sitting before me like a doe as if you didn’t wait in my office hoping I would come in here and fuck you like the whore that you are.”
You moan shamelessly when he lets go of your face, while your whole body was screaming at you to submit to the man before you. You could help but push his buttons just a little bit further.
“You know for a priest you sure do have a filthy mouth—” His eyes narrow on you as you speak. “im such a slut but here you are hard in your pants over a damn mini skirt.” If looks could kill, you’d surely be dead. You needed more.
You open your mouth to speak again. But before you could even get a sound out, Charlie strikes his large hand across your cheek. You moan again, “fuck!”
Wordlessly, he turns to the desk before you. You watch curiously as he haphazardly pushes the clutter on his desk onto the floor. Your hands tremble in anticipation as you watch him bound towards you. He effortlessly picks you up from the chair you sat on, as if a reflex you cross you’d ankles behind his back as his hands greedily grip your thighs and ass.
He gently places you on the recently cleared off desk. A stark contrast to the way he effortlessly hoisted you from your seat. You attempt to grind down in the wooden desk under you for some kind of stimulation, but Charlie’s grip stops you.
“So impatient,” he purrs. He captures your lips in a quick, gentle kiss. You whine at the loss of him, but you don’t have to worry for long as his hands greedily grasps at your skirt, tearing at your legs. He leaves you with one last opened mouth kiss as he begins to trail wet kisses down your neck.
He mumbles something you can’t quite hear. But you don’t really care when he sinks to his knees, his strong hands prying your legs open. He trails more kisses to your inner thigh all the way up to your core. He licks a stripe over your soaked through panties, your legs try to close but his hands are holding your thighs open. His eyes lock on yours as he pulls them down your legs, the speed agonizing as you whimper. In a second his lips are back on you, his wet kisses up your thighs driving you mad.
“Charlie,” You thread your hand through his hair as he bites and licks at your heat like a starved man.
He mumbles a quick “no,” as he pulls away from you. His chin slicked and shiny from you. The scene is pornographic, if you had a camera you’d take a picture. He fumbles with his belt buckle and throws it to the side, the metal clanking to the floor loudly. You shamelessly stare as he stands back up, towering over you again he gets close enough that you feel his breath on your face.
“Look at you,” he tuts. You lurch forward— pulling him into a greedy, filthy kiss. When he moans into your mouth it’s the most heavenly sound you’ve ever heard. Pushing you back into the desk, once again he’s muttering something, a prayer. You paw at his zipper and he lazily watches you has you pull out his angry cock.
“Please?” You beg, tears welling up in your eyes from sheer sexual frustration.
“Since you asked so nicely~” he steals a quick kiss before dragging his leaking tip through your folds.
He pushes into you fully in one smooth motion. Your back arches up off of the desk, wood painfully digging into your spine. You didn’t care— all you cared about was him.
Fast sharp deep thrusts have you screaming as the sounds of skin ring throughout the office. You curse- throwing your arms over your head. Charlie’s mouth gaping while he groans, pressing and thrusting himself into you.
"Just, like that, oh.. god." You wail as he slams himself into your g spot repeatedly.
Charlie greedily paws at your clothed breasts as his hips slap into yours. You clench around him— you can already feel your orgasm building from the rough pace set. Charlie’s hips stutter from your action and you clench again. A low groan leaves his beautifully shaped lips as he digs his fingers into your hips.
You moan— you try to form words but Charlie feels so good inside of you that your brain feels like mush. He seems to be able to tell your close however by the way his thumb reaches down to rub sloppy circles onto your clit.
Your vision turns white as you come undone. Your nails dig into the desk below you as Charlie chases his own release. He leans down, pressing kisses into your cheeks and necks, unlike the kisses before; these are gentle and caring. You hiss when he pulls out of you, missing the feeling of him inside you immediately.
“How much convincing will it take for you to come to next weeks service?” He breathily laughs against the side of your face.
“If it’s gonna end like this again— none at all.”
♡︎༻🌸༺♡︎
Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)
@Nallasstuff @chmpgneprblem @qoopeeya @lilybellalana @sleepysongbirdsings
#friends#mutuals#art#wattpad#writing#original story#fanfic#fantasy#moodboard#nicholas chavez imagines#nicholas chavez fanfics#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas chavez x reader#nicholas chavez#father charlie mayhew#charlie mayhew x reader#charlie mayhew x y/n#grotesquerie
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Roleplay Is Not Dead Nor Doth It Sleep
There's a post going around about how text-based, freeform roleplay is dead, and I was typing up a huge response to this, with an accompanying guide on how to find roleplayer in 2024, when I realized it might have a bigger reach if I made it its own post. So here's that guide.
I hesitate to say that there isn't a problem with the new format of social media making roleplay more difficult to find, but in the desire to make that point, the OP of the original post has left people with the idea that there's no way for them to get into freeform text roleplay in 2024. Which just isn't true! Here, look at all the ways.
Forums
The link to RPG-Directory to find roleplaying forums is a good start. Once you've found a forum RPG, even if you don't join, there's usually an 'advertising' section on that forum where other forum RPGs post their ads - this may help you to find forums that don't advertise on RPG-D.
Another really good forum to find roleplay on is Barbermonger. Barbermonger is focused on connecting people for one-on-one roleplays.
This last one's going to be weird, but it turns out that there are still people seeking roleplay on the Gaia Online forums after all these years. I think this is delightfully retro and then crowd there seems a little older than average. No pre-existing knowledge of Gaia required.
Tumblr
You can also find forum roleplay groups (as well as tumblr and Discord groups) right here on Tumblr. Usually, the thing to do is to use the search function - search for "[genre] rp" or "[fandom] rp" and sort by "latest." (If you sort by Top, you are likely to find dead RPs.) For example, here's fantasy rp, historical rp, and marvel rp. You can also try jcink rp, as most roleplay forums are hosted on Jcink these days, or discord rp, depending on your favored platform.
There are also tumblr blogs specifically dedicated to advertising roleplays. I'm not super familiar with these nowadays, but just in the process of searching those tags above, I found these:
Jcink Tinder
RPG Adverts
RPings
There are more, I just don't know them off the top of my head.
Reddit
Listen, don't run away, I swear it's good now - I swear Reddit is good now -
Reddit is a good place to find Discord roleplays. It's a little heavier on smut-only roleplays than other platforms mentioned here, but it's not impossible to find sexless, plot-based roleplay here either. Most ads are for one on one RP, but you can find groups mixed in here too. The big subreddits for text-based freeform RP seem to be:
r/DiscordRP
r/RoleplayPartnerSearch
r/roleplaying
r/Roleplay
Some of these have weird rules about what you can put in your ad, and I don't remember which ones, so read carefully and don't get discouraged if your ad is initially removed.
Discord
In 2024, Discord is by far the biggest and most popular platform for roleplay, and it has its own native roleplay advertising hubs. Here are a bunch:
roleplay partner hub
Rockin Roleplay
The Roleplay Garden
roleplay help
the roleplay connection
RP Central
Roleplay Central
Roleplay Hub
Barbermonger also has a Discord server
Roleplay Meets: Reborn
RP Hub
The Scribes Guild
DM Rp Village
cherry blossom! roleplay hub
DM-RP
Roleplay Round Table (21+)
The Historical Syndicate (specifically for historical roleplay)
The Roleplayer's Directory
If you can't find the Discord roleplay you want on here, you can also try Discord hub websites, like Disboard. These work similar to tumblr tags - search for [genre] rp or [fandom] rp.
Other
The original post specifically mentions that 'all the old "omegle but for role play" type websites died out ages ago'. This is mostly true, but not quite! There's still Rolechat. It's a little janky, but what it needs more than anything is a bigger user base. Their Discord server is also a good place to find one on one discord roleplay. It is, of course, free, but if you want to support its development, they have a patreon.
Please reblog this post, and add your own tips on how to find roleplay!
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izuku loves to talk about you during interviews
- anything and every topic it will ALWAYS be about you
- the question won't even be remotely related to you and still izukus answer will revolve around "y/n, my wife!!" <3
- oh, the glint in his eyes, the peaking smile when he speaks about you, lover boyyy
- the media knows he LOVE LOVES you, they think it's funny for this big, confident, mighty hero to be reduced to sap when it comes to you
- it's like his whole personality is HIS WIFE
- the journalists lowkey get so SICK of him for this, they don't want to invite him anymore 😭
- but they kinda have to, due to to his status as #1
"Good evening everyone and welcome Hero Talk! Tonight we'll be staring someone you all know and love, single handedly the greatest hero of all time, Deku! Alright, Deku how are you tonight?"
"Feeling pretty good! This is one of my wife's favorite shows, so I'm even more grateful to be here. And how are you?"
"Oh, same old. Really, just living. Now, we wanted to ask you some fun questions. Let's start with this one. Why did you want to become a hero?"
"Wow, haha! That really brings be back to my youth. When I was kid, my biggest influence was All Might, and he miraculously became my mentor. He was a good hero, and a good man. I wanted to be just like him: fearless, persevering, saving people with I smile. I would beg my mom everyday to watch this video on the computer of him saving a bunch a people. I was really swayed by All Might. I wanted to become a hero to make an impact in the world. I wanted to save people with a smile too."
"That sounds really endearing, Deku. I remember All Might's reign. He wasn't number one on the top charts all those years for nothing. So, did you ever think you'd be standing as Japan's top hero?"
"Well, it was never really my goal to become number one. That was Kacchan's- Dynamight's. My dream was, like I said, to become a hero and save others. But I have to say, it really is a blessing. I'd like to thank my Mom, All Might, my friends, and especially my wife for who I've become. My Mom has really done a lot for me growing up: protecting, encourage, and just always caring for me. All Might has kinda been that father figure for me when my Dad was away. My friends have shown me what it's like to work together and really be part of a heart. And my wife? Haha...I can't thank her enough for all the times she's been right by my side, even before we were together. Nothing I can say or do will ever be enough to express how much she means to me."
"Mm. Quite the supportive group. Your wife sounds like quite the lady!"
"She is. She's wonderful."
"Moving on to the next question, do you use social media often?"
"Occasionally, yes?? My wife uses it regularly, posting about us when we go out and stuff. It's mostly for her family to see how she's doing. She handles most of my official accounts. She says it's to be more appealing to the public, and I guess to show that there's more to heroes on the inside?? I'm not really sure, but I trust her process. Although, I'd rather be appealing to her alone."
"The public will always interested in a hero's private life! Now, Deku, what is your ideal setting of relaxation?"
"My wife doesn't like places that are too crowded or noisy, so maybe a cozy day at the beach?- but early in the morning or in the evening when the crowds calm down. Maybe a movie theatre, but days after the movie is released so it's just us together. Actually, a lazy day at home together is great too! Cooking meals and watching a movie on the couch? Really, any place is relaxing if my wife is with me."
(am i questioning Deku's wife or Deku!?) "How scenic! Those sound very fitting for you!! How about any restaurants?"
"Not really. My wife really knows how to cook, it's amazing! I love her home-cooked meals, so there's no way I'd go out of my way to a restaurant. But if my wife is feeling it, I'll be sure to make reservations."
"(sigh)"
"(smiling warmly)"
#w.midizu#izuku x reader#deku x reader#midoriya x reader#deku x y/n#deku x you#izuku x you#bnha x reader#mha x reader#deku#izuku#izuku midoriya x reader#deku headcanons#izuku headcanons#izuku midoriya#midoriya izuku#mha izuku#bnha izuku#deku x fem!reader
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Bill hates it when people mention Euclydia. Everyone thinks it's because he doesn't want to hear his home's real name; it's actually the opposite.
Here, have some fic. The naming of Euclydia (among other things), the birth of the Nightmare Realm, and the Axolotl planting the seeds of a trillion-year-long plan to keep Bill from the death penalty.
This is the 🎉FINAL PART🎉 of a 9-part plot about the Axolotl in the aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. If you wanna read the others (or look at the art), here's one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight.
####
With the immediate crisis averted and the triangle, for the moment, not attempting to invade and/or demolish the multiverse, most of the god militia pulled back. A group remained stationed near the unstable border between dimensions to watch the triangle; but the less powerful gods could trickle back in to get back to their own work, first and foremost the construction workers doing emergency repairs to reformat and stabilize the neighboring dimensions.
The Axolotl—who, he suspected, would have been arrested himself for interfering if they weren't still focused on the triangle—wove through the crowd until he found the Time Giant; and then swam angrily up to her and demanded, "You used me as a distraction?"
She turned a stone-hard look on him. "That was the agreement."
"No! The agreement was that I'd try to talk him down! We'd only resort to distracting him if I couldn't get through to him!"
"Ya didn't get through to him." The Time Giant nodded at the Axolotl's burned side. "Look at you. Your leg's off."
He looked down at his missing foreleg. He'd been so distracted by the near end of the multiverse, he'd barely noticed the pain. "It's just a flesh wound," he insisted. "I'm an axolotl, it'll grow back!"
She shook her head.
"I would have gotten through to him! You saw me talk him down after an entire army threatened him!" the Axolotl said. "What if I had succeeded, and when we left my tank he found out you already wrote him off?! You never gave me a chance—"
"We did give you a chance," she said testily, "and I saw that you weren't gonna succeed." She hooked a thumb over her belt and tapped a finger on her time tape; the stylized symbol of the Time Giants glowed on the side, an unsubtle reminder that she knew what was coming far better than he did. "So I did my damn job."
So she'd sent him in already knowing that he would fail. The Axolotl was speechless for a second. "But—you couldn't know—I got so close, if I'd had just one more try to talk to him..."
"If I'd let you, I'm sure you woulda kept trying until the end of time," she said. "You seem like a good guy, Ax—but you can't save everyone." She pushed past him to get to work. "There's first aid near where Dimension 2 Gamma was. Get those burns looked at."
"They're fine."
She was wrong. He could save everyone. Because he wouldn't stop until he did.
####
"You're replacing it?" the triangle asked petulantly.
"I'm not talking to you," VENDOR said, turned away from the triangle. "You had your chance at diplomacy and you blew it." The crablike cop was holding up a clipboard with some paperwork for VENDOR to review, and didn't look pleased to have been temporarily reduced to a secretary.
"I'm just asking a question!"
"We're not speaking."
At the top of his lungs—which was, it turned out, very loud and very shrill—the triangle said in the direction of the reporters, "Oh wow, that's a crazy thing to say about Lady Morgenstern! And talk about obscene! She'd be furious if she could hear that—!"
"Shhhhh!" VENDOR rounded angrily on the triangle. "You don't even know who she is!"
"I know her name and I'm not afraid to use it," the triangle said. "You're really replacing my dimension?"
"If I can be left alone long enough to finish signing the authorization paperwork," VENDOR muttered. "The construction crew's already out here and waiting, so if you don't mind..."
"It just seems pretty tacky, replacing a universe just like that." The triangle spoke like dimension he was talking about was just a pawn to be used in a trivial argument about etiquette, rather than everyone and everything he'd ever known. "No memorial or anything? Yeesh."
"So hold a memorial for it," VENDOR said. "We don't have any choice, we have to repair all the fallen walls to keep reality stable. If you'd let us into your hovel to sweep up what's left of your old dimension, it could have at least been incorporated into the new one."
The triangle half reached for his hat, stopped himself, and curled his hand into a fist and thrust it down at his side. "Over my dead body," he said. "Which I'm pretty sure got incinerated! So that means never!"
"You're pretty sure?" VENDOR asked archly.
"It... I had more important stuff to take care of, okay? I'm a busy guy!"
"I'm sure," VENDOR said. "Well, it's too late for any cleanup operations anyway. Enjoy rotting away in your landfill."
"Wow, that's how you talk to a refugee from the biggest disaster ever?" The triangle laughed. "Hey, bet the muckrakers over there would love to hear how sympathetic you are to the—what'd you say I am—the 'last surviving soul from my dimension'—?"
"Let's find somewhere quieter to work," VENDOR said to the cop.
He looked relieved "You got it."
As VENDOR and THEIR impromptu secretary moved away from Dimension Zero, the triangle shouted after THEM, "Hey! How do I vote for Municipalitron!"
Volcanoes on several of VENDOR's planets erupted. THEY whipped around to face the triangle. "You don't! You aren't in my district!"
"Well, whose district am I in? This Morgenstern creep you keep bringing up?" the triangle asked. "How's voting work, do you toss a ballot across the border and I toss it back—?"
"You're not in anyone's district! If you were, you'd have been arrested already!"
The triangle stared in dumb shock. "Wait, so I don't get to vote for which of you idiots I have to deal with?" He hollered at VENDOR's retreating back, "That's fascism!"
Fuming, VENDOR passed the Axolotl muttering under THEIR breath about showing the triangle fascism; then stopped, abruptly turned to face him, and snapped, "You."
"You," the Axolotl agreed.
"You're an optimistic fool."
Yes, well, he knew that already. He'd been voted Most Adorably Idealistic in his law school yearbook for a reason. "I don't think I like you, either."
"No one does." THEIR camera whirred irritably as they looked the Axolotl up and down. "What are you doing here, anyway? I assumed you'd been sent to figure out who's liable for this whole mess—but no, you only handle afterlife cases, don't you? Who sent you?"
The Axolotl was silent.
Furiously, VENDOR said, "Are you serious?! We could have avoided half this mess if it weren't for you!"
"If it weren't for me, he'd have knocked down the multiverse before anyone realized he's setting the fires," the Axolotl snapped. "And if you had figured that much out, you'd have gotten your cops killed before anyone realized he's a god."
"The professionals here to handle the situation could have figured it out faster if you weren't derailing their investigations," VENDOR snarled. "And arguing about jurisdiction! We could have arrested that that little troublemaker the moment we figured out just what he's done—"
"Right after you arrested that kid with the spray can who didn't have anything to do with this?"
THEY growled in frustration. "Forget it! I hope you're happy with your genocidal pal over there—you seem about as concerned with public safety as he is." THEY stormed off, the cop with THEIR paperwork chasing after THEM.
The Axolotl watched VENDOR go; then turned to look ruefully toward Dimension Zero.
When the triangle caught his gaze, he formed a heart with his fingers over his top point and called out, gleefully singsong, "Genocide paaals!"
It wasn't exactly the reaction he'd hoped for.
####
The Axolotl was attempting to distract himself from scratching his itchy leg while it regrew by eavesdropping on the triangle. It seemed like the triangle was entertaining himself by darting around the border of Dimension Zero to start arguments with anybody he happened to recognize (except the Axolotl, whom he seemed to be trying to ignore outside of throwing a few odd quips at him.) At the moment, the triangle and the Time Giant were hollering at each other about her decision to reinforce the second dimensions by making them splinter into multiple timelines.
"So you're really willing to sacrifice zillions of lives by letting me incinerate all their parallel timelines?" The triangle laughed in disbelief. "And everyone here thinks I'm the killer! That's not a good look for you, buddy!"
She glanced up from a table full of paperwork to give him a totally neutral look. "You're the one who's willing to incinerate them. You could not do that."
"When I do it, it's justified."
The Axolotl was distracted from the argument as the storm cloud with the apoc agents gloomily blew past him. It was talking into a walkie-talkie as it went: "Yeah, I know he's a nut. But he's a nut that can't throw fireballs outside the border of his dimension, and I've got to finish this report before we can get outta here." He sighed at whatever the walkie-talkie said in response, and said, "Yeah. We'll rendezvous after I have his testimony." It let its tornado suck the walkie-talkie back in and drifted to the Time Giant. "Mind if I steal your conversation partner for a minute? ATTF business."
She grabbed a binder to try to shield her papers from the worst of the storm's rain. "Please. Take him."
"Thanks." It floated closer to Dimension Zero and raised its voice to bark, "Hey! Magister Mentium!"
The triangle looked over mistrustfully. "What?" As he'd talked to the Time Giant, he'd been playing with the fabric of reality, creating a circle out of raw... stuff. The Axolotl couldn't tell what the stuff was, but it looked like it was some sort of animal tissue, except far too uncannily homogeneous to be natural, disturbing in its uniformity. Like a slice of baloney. When he saw who'd called out to him, he rolled his eye and turned his attention to extruding the circle into a baloney cylinder. "Heeey, Officer Fun Police! Here to rain on my parade again?"
"Rain jokes aren't as funny as you think they are," it said. "No, this is Apocalyptic Threat Task Force business."
The triangle's eye narrowed. "What business? Are you gonna complain about my renovations again?"
"No. If you're not about to knock reality down, I don't care what you do anymore," the cloud said. "It's not my business to punish anybody for previous apocalypses, I just want to prevent future ones. Answer a few questions for our incident report and I'll be out of your life." There was an implicit and you'll be out of mine in its tone.
"All right," the triangle said dubiously. "Fffine. Then we're on the same side. I'm not fond of apocalypses either."
It paused like it wanted to argue with that claim, but said, "Good enough for me." It pulled out the soggy notepad it had been using all day, flipped through it, couldn't find a free page, and with a sigh pulled out a tape recorder instead. "You're from Dimension 2 Delta, right?"
"If you say so," the triangle said, lifting his hands in a shrug. "You guys are the ones who named my dimension."
"Uh-huh." Under its breath, the cloud muttered, "Not exactly a name, but... If you're from 2Δ, that makes you the only direct witness to how your universe was destroyed."
The triangle paused. "Mm."
"Can you explain what happened, exactly?" When the triangle didn't respond, the cloud added, "I'm not gonna arrest you for it. If we want to have a chance of stopping something like this from happening in the future, we need to know what happened here."
"Uhhh, yyyeah. Suuure," the triangle said. It wasn't clear exactly how Dimension Zero rearranged, but the view of the eternal dance party simply vanished. There was no sign of the millions of shapes. The music had fallen near silent, just a constant distant low thumping noise, like your heartbeat in your ears; quiet enough that it couldn't drown out the whispery hiss leaking out of Dimension Zero. "It's not like I have anything to hide." Whatever he was about to say, it seemed like he wanted to hide it from his party prisoners, at least.
A bolt of lightning shot through the storm's recorder, turning it on. "You said you were an active participant in the end of the world, right?"
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" He eyed the recorder suspiciously. "What is this, some trick to try to get a confession out of me?"
"Again, I'm not a cop. And you already confessed in front of a thousand reporters," the storm said. "If you were involved, you've got a different perspective than some guy ten superclusters away who only witnessed it, that's the only reason it matters."
"Oh," the triangle said. "Then—yeah, I was there for the whole thing. Start to finish."
"Great," the storm said gruffly. "Then could you explain in your own words what happened when the universe ended and, to the best of your knowledge, what caused it."
"Oh. Yeah. Right. The cause," the triangle said. "It... it was a—monster."
"I thought you said you—"
"It was a monster," the triangle said, more confidently now.
The cloud hesitated. "All right," it said. "Tell me what happened."
The triangle took a deep breath. "Okay. So. It uh—started with the third dimension."
"The monster came from the third dimension?"
"No, we were going to the third dimension. But we needed—"
The hissing background static exploded into a roar.
The void filled with the staticky screams of countless dead voices, pleading for mercy, pleading for it to stop. Death rattles, howls of agony, wails of terror. Most of the crowd of gods outside Dimension Zero fell silent, turning to stare at the disembodied hysterical shrieks.
One voice, strained with pain, rose above the cacophony, crackling, "Emergency services! We need medical assistance! Ambulances, or—please—I don't know what happened—it's like everyone's internal organs spontaneously ruptured, there's—there's hundreds of people here! Some of them are missing parts of their body, they just—disappeared! I'm hurt too, I don't know what it is—I can feel it inside me—"
A second voice replied, "We can't send assistance. Everyone's bleeding, the whole city's dying! We can't help you!"
Whatever the triangle said was lost beneath the roar. He didn't even seem to notice it. His eye was filled with static. The word "blood" was just barely audible. The word "mandibles."
Another voice, trying to sound professional, trying to sound authoritative, but trembling with fear, "This is an emergency announcement! This announcement will not repeat! The fire can transmit over radio waves and sound waves! Turn off all radios and TVs! Turn off all radios and TVs and destroy any wireless phones and pagers! Do NOT listen to the screams! Again, the fire is transmitting over radio waves, this message will not repeat, destroy your radio and warn your neighbors!"
The Axolotl saw images flash in the triangle's eye, too fast for him to mentally process one before another ten had gone by: a plane like infinitely thin glass with tiny delicate shapes painted on its surface shattering in a rolling wave; a bleeding body reduced to shards and then the shards reduced to chips and then chips reduced to dust; fire spitting and crackling into every crack split in existence; a light shaped like a triangle. (Was that the light that had blinded the Oracle's seer?)
Another voice gasping, "It's doing something to the gravity, I-I don't understand—we don't even have the equipment to read... it's like gravity's turned in a direction that doesn't exist! Does anyone know how to stop it?! Our universe is tearing ap—" and the words were cut off with a scream; and the scream was cut off with a sudden silence that was swallowed whole by the other voices.
The triangle had peeled open, shining golden panels stretching out like petals, his mandibles unhinged and curling around his eye in a ring of teeth, like a blooming carnivorous flower, sun-soaked and mesmerizing. God, he was so bright. He shot light in every direction like an explosion that never ended. Like a star trapped in the moment of supernova.
Another voice, shaking with rage, "Did you hear that, you monster?! I told you we weren't ready yet! Why didn't you listen?! I can see the destruction from here—the sky's on fire, everything is burning. How could this happen?! YOU killed them all—" and the rage cracked, revealing the fear and grief just barely hidden underneath, "Remember us. If you're the only one left, you have to remember us. Please—"
The static snapped off; the triangle's body snapped back into place; his eye snapped back into focus; "—and then they appointed me their god," he said cheerfully, "and here we are!"
And with only a couple more dying cries of pain and pleas for help, the voices fell back to their constant background whisper.
The storm cloud had started sleeting.
The Axolotl had stopped breathing. Just the sound of the carnage was enough to make him sick.
But the triangle sounded perfectly at ease—more than he had before he'd answered the cloud's question. "So is that all you needed?" He'd resumed playing with the cylinder of meat he'd been constructing—extruding it further, and then, dissatisfied with the results, collapsing it back into a circle.
His hands were trembling as he messed with the cylinder. There was a tightness around his eye.
"What..." The storm cloud let out a low rumble of thunder, ahem, "what... did you say about blood? I didn't catch it."
The triangle blinked blankly at the storm. "I didn't say anything about blood."
It paused. "All right, then—what about the other voices? Who were they?"
"What voices?"
The storm stared at the triangle, baffled sunbeam fixed on him; then swung the sunbeam over to the Axolotl. "You heard—?"
So his eavesdropping had been noticed. He nodded. Oh, he heard, all right.
The triangle glanced between them. "I think you guys are hearing voices," he said. "The only one talking here is me."
He said it like he meant it. The Axolotl was sure he did. Had he not heard the voices?
"Never mind, forget it," the cloud said uneasily. "You said someone... Who appointed you their god?"
"Uhhh..." the triangle tilted to the side as he tried to think. "Pretty much all my people? Yeah. It was everyone!"
"Your people? From your universe?"
"Yup!"
"They didn't appoint you their god," the cloud said. "They're all dead."
The triangle scoffed. "I don't know what you're talking about. They're all in here with me!"
"You mean the mortals from the other universes?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," the triangle repeated, a little slower, warningly. "They're all from my universe."
For a moment, the cloud just stared at him, at a loss. It glanced again toward the Axolotl. The Axolotl had nothing to offer it.
"Is that everything?" The triangle tried to keep his voice peppy, but there was an edge of exhaustion that hadn't been there earlier. (Yeah, him and everyone else here.)
"I guess that wraps up that part of the questionnaire," the cloud muttered uneasily, trying to recover its professional tone. "Just a couple more questions. I need your name. For the report."
Dimension Zero's hissing background static rose again: "The murderer... The name of the murderer... is—"
"NOBODY ASKED YOU!" The triangle turned and chucked the cylinder he'd been working on into the Dream Realm. He grumbled under his breath, created another circle, and started stretching it out again.
The triangle could hear the voices. Then why hadn't he been able to hear them earlier? Unless he had been able to hear them—and he just... couldn't remember that he'd heard them?
Even if the Axolotl hadn't known about the incomparable trauma the triangle had survived/caused, it would be pretty obvious by now that something was going terribly wrong inside his head. Contradictory stories about his own reality, memories he refused to remember, facts he simply set aside as not relevant. Was he refusing to face them, or was he unable?
From their conversation in the Axolotl's tank, he thought the triangle understood more than he was willing to admit. But the Axolotl might be the only one who knew that.
And that was beginning to give the Axolotl an idea.
"Just—put me down as the Magister Mentium, okay?" the triangle told the cloud. "Everyone'll know who you're talking about."
"If you say so," said the cloud. "What was your universe's name?"
"Its name?" The triangle glanced up from his new cylinder and gave the cloud a perplexed look. "You asked already. You said it's Dimension 2 Delta."
"That's its serial number. Every dimension's assigned one at its Big Bang. But it's standard to let a dimension's own residents choose its name. It makes it more personal." The cloud sounded as though it had memorized this explanation. The Axolotl wondered how many times it had had to take statements from a destroyed dimension's grieving survivors. He hoped it usually got to give this spiel to witnesses of a narrowly averted apocalypse. "Typically the first explorers to leave their dimension get to name it; but the only person ever known to leave 2Δ is... you."
"Oh," he said. "Right."
"So, what did your people name your universe?"
He stared at the storm like it was stupid. "We called it... the universe?"
"Everyone calls their universe The Universe," the cloud said. "Followed by The World, The Dimension, Reality, and Home. They're all taken, come up with something else."
"Seriously? You're making me name my whole universe and now you're telling me how to name it?"
"They're not my rules," the cloud said. "If you don't have a native name, we usually name a dimension after the first known explorer to leave it. Was that you?"
The triangle was quiet for an uncomfortably long moment. His gaze twitched away; and for a moment the Axolotl thought he saw another image flash in his eye: a triangle floating in space, eerily serene, dead. His voice was small when he said, "No."
Surprised lightning quietly flashed in the storm's cloud. "Oh. Do you know the name of the first?"
"Of course I do. He's my..." He stopped himself. He said, too evenly, "His name is Euclid."
Obviously, the triangle wasn't speaking a language that can be spoken with human mouths or written with human symbols. "Euclid" is a stand-in word for an unpronounceable name; trying to say the name without the right anatomy—without even the right laws of physics and sound waves—would only mangle it.
But the rest of the multiverse didn't have the right physics or anatomy either. "Euclid," the cloud repeated, mangling it. The triangle winced. "Fine. How's Euclydia sound?"
"It sounds stupid," the triangle said.
"Well, it's your dimension. Do you have a better suggestion?"
"I..." The triangle floundered helplessly. "That... Okay hold on, I've had a very long..." He floundered again as he tried to figure exactly what kind of time span he'd been having a long one of.
"If you want me to come back later..." said the cloud, who very obviously did not want to have to come back later.
"I don't knowww, gimme a second," the triangle whined. "I've never thought about a universe having a name! It's—it's fine. Euclydia's fine."
"If you're sure—?"
"Of course I'm sure," the triangle snapped. "Euclydia. Yeah. Great. Fine."
"All right." The cloud zapped its tape recorder, turning it off. "Thanks for your time."
As it started to hover off, the triangle said, "Hold on! I answered your questions, you owe me some."
The eye of the storm reluctantly swung back toward the triangle. "What?"
He held up the shape he'd been extruding. "What do you call this... 3D circle thing?"
The sunbeam swept over it. "A cylinder?"
The triangle pointed toward VENDOR, who was out at the edge of the crowd answering the questions of some reporters who'd caught THEM attempting to slink away from the scene. "And what are the 3D circle things Coin Slot over there is hauling around?"
It glanced at VENDOR's stock of planets. "Spheres."
The triangle shook his cylinder. "Well, what am I doing wrong, then!"
"I don't know, math's not my thing," the cloud said. "Try rotating it."
The triangle waited until the cloud had moved on; then created another circle, extruded it again, but curled the extrusion around into a circle. He ended up with a shape like a donut. He said, quietly, "Oo-oo-ooh." He sounded impressed.
The Axolotl swam up alongside the storm cloud as it left. "So. Find out what you wanted to know?"
The cloud laughed ruefully.
That was what he thought. "Are the interviews you've been taking classified?"
"No, our reports are open to the public. Anyone can request copies. The database is a nightmare to navigate, though."
"Let me know who to contact for the records on this incident. Especially the witness testimonies."
"I take it you're also planning to go through that noise we just heard with a fine-tooth comb?"
"That's hardly the start of it."
If the Axolotl had been convinced of anything during all his conversations with the triangle today, it was that the triangle could barely begin to grasp just what it was he'd done to his dimension and all the dimensions around it—and he did a very poor job of communicating what he did grasp.
And if the Axolotl could prove that—if he could build a convincing argument that the triangle hadn't understood what he'd done, psychologically couldn't understand, that even now he only had the fuzziest comprehension of what he was involved in...
Someday, that triangle's sins would catch up to him. Someday, he would be in the hands of the gods of death and justice, and they would have to decide what fate his actions had earned. And when that day came, it would be the Axolotl's job to ensure that the triangle didn't end up damned or erased from existence.
As it was now, that triangle didn't stand a chance in the multiverse of being found innocent. But there was more than one way to avoid a "guilty" verdict.
By the time the triangle stood before a judge, the Axolotl would make sure that the right laws were in place for him to do what he wanted to do.
####
Where there had been swarms of firefighters earlier, now the scene swarmed with construction workers, working on the emergency genesis of over half a dozen replacement universes—carefully, so that the big bangs didn't do any further damage to an already unstable situation; but quickly. Already every destroyed one-dimensional universe had been replaced. Several half-burned dimensions had been supplanted with oddly-shaped undersized universes that met at the older universes' burned edges; jagged 1D dimensions sealed the gaps between these dimensions like a line of solder between two panes of stained glass.
By now, the flat planes and edges surrounded the zeroth dimension like the sleek shifting surfaces of an infinity-sided die; all except for one last missing wall in the middle of the damage.
Dimension 2 Delta. "Euclydia."
The construction workers were already setting up the scaffolding and equipment to set off another big bang.
As the Axolotl looked at the copious warning signs around the construction site—"DANGER! COSMIC EXPLOSIVES" "GENESIS IN PROGRESS"—the specialized equipment, the veritable army of workers, the mountain of papers the Time Giant had been reviewing earlier to ensure that everything was up to code and nothing would go wrong... he couldn't help but think of the triangle holding the seed of a big bang in his bare glowing hand, threatening to set it off right there. The Axolotl had known it was foolish, but seeing all the workers' preparations put just how reckless it was into perspective. Like a toddler holding a stick of TNT over a campfire.
He spotted the Time Giant among the workers, flickering back and forth across the scene as she tried to literally be multiple places at the same time. When she settled down for a moment over a worktable to double check a pile of blueprints and forms and calculations and even more paperwork, she caught sight of the Axolotl passing by, and tipped her chin up at him in greeting.
He paused, then nodded back to her. No hard feelings. He was just following his principles; and she was just doing her job. They'd each found their own way to help hold up the multiverse.
"Hey," she called out, and gestured for him to come over. As he did, she said, "Your leg's healing nicely."
He glanced down at it. His new toes were stubby, but at least they were back. "I don't like being uneven." He'd take a few more days on his tail. "I'll probably pay for it tomorrow, though." When he finally got home, he'd have to see if he could cancel his morning appointments.
"Reckon we'll all be feeling this tomorrow." She tilted her head toward Dimension Zero. "I've got a message for the god of DIY over there. I think you're the only one he likes—you mind carrying it over?"
####
It wasn't hard to find the triangle; he was leaning against the membrane around the zeroth dimension, moodily staring out at the third. He seemed to be gazing past all the gods, unfazed by their hubbub. The Axolotl tried to see what he was looking at, and didn't spot anything of note. As far as he could tell, the triangle might as well just be stargazing.
Along with the police tape and the ATTF barrier and the long-forgotten cordons to hold off the reporters, there was now an additional grid of orange cones set up blocking anyone from getting too close to the destroyed wall and the construction site. The Axolotl glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention before he slipped past the cones and swam up to the triangle.
When he approached, the triangle was muttering under his breath: "Stupid, now it sounds like an STD. I should've named it something cooler. Like... Triangletopia. Or the Party Plane. Or Margaritaville—I bet no one's ever used that one before..."
"Magister," the Axolotl said.
The triangle's eye snapped to him. "Hey, look at that! The pompous psycho is back! If you're even thinking about sticking me back in your 'office'—"
The Axolotl held up his forelegs appeasingly. "I'm not." He wasn't even crossing the threshold into the triangle's turf. "This is the last time I'll speak to you today."
"Finally, some good news," the triangle grumbled. "What do you w—ha! Ah-haha! I caught myself, that one didn't count."
The Axolotl decided not to count it. "The Time Giant wanted you to know they're about to set off the big bang where Dimension 2 Delta used to be. You probably don't want to be too close to the wall when it goes up."
The triangle's expression darkened; but he just said, "All right. Fine. Have fun. Not my problem! Just keep the construction noises down."
That was all he'd been sent to tell the triangle; but he added, "If you ever want to leave your dream realm, this is your last chance."
The triangle groaned. "This again? Listen, frills, I already told you I'm not interested! And you don't have the right to drag me out, this is my sovereign god territory—"
"I'm not threatening to," the Axolotl said gently. "I just—wanted to make sure you know. If you change your mind later, you physically won't be able to leave."
That gave the triangle pause. "I... don't see why not."
"For something to pass from one dimension to another, it needs a large enough hole to pass through," the Axolotl said. "For a person carrying the mass and energy of an entire universe to cross from one dimension to another... they need a hole the size of a universe. The missing wall where 2Δ was is the size your universe used to be. And now... it's the only exit big enough for you to pass through. Do you understand?"
The triangle stared at him silently. There was that hard, heavy look in his eye. It was awful to see. He did understand.
"If you don't come now..."
"We came up with a way to fit my entire universe into this one," the triangle said. "If I ever want to leave, we'll invent a way to get it back out."
"Your universe didn't fit in without incinerating it."
The triangle tapped the side of his hat with a finger; somewhere inside it was the speck that used to be his universe—the seed of a big bang. "It's travel-sized now. The next time will be easier."
For the first time since seeing the awful ruin of Dimension 2 Delta, the Axolotl forced himself to turn his fearful gaze chronologically forward. He squinted toward the hazy, far-flung future; and then he gave the triangle, in the present, a sorrowful look. "No, it won't," he said. "But I'll do what I can for you."
The triangle stared sullenly at him, unmoved by the offer. "I don't see what you're getting out of helping me. Everyone else is dying to send me to ghost jail or however things work around here."
"Isn't it enough to help you just because you exist and that makes you worth it?"
"If you ever, ever say something like that again, I'll kill you. I will find a way."
He wasn't particularly surprised. But that was truly what the Axolotl believed—and believed strongly enough to guide everything else he did.
The things this triangle had done were too ghastly for even an ancient, experienced god to fully wrap his head around. Without exaggeration, he might have done the worst thing anyone anywhere in the multiverse had ever done.
But.
But if the Axolotl could prove that he, the worst person ever, was worth giving a second chance—that he could change, that he could show remorse for what he'd done, that he could be a force for good in the multiverse... then he would have proven that everyone, no matter what, was worth it.
The Axolotl had been voted Most Adorably Idealistic, but he'd never been called soft. His ideals were harder than diamond and sharper than obsidian. He hadn't decided to protect the triangle in spite of the impact that might have on the multiverse; he was protecting him because of the impact it could have.
The Axolotl was a god of justice, of monsters, of second chances, and through his actions he could shape what justice meant throughout the multiverse as if he were sculpting clay; and he thought a small, sharp little equilateral triangle would make a perfect sculpting tool.
"In truth, I just don't believe in punishment. Not even for you." The Axolotl lay a forefoot on Dimension Zero's bubble. "But I don't see why you trust me." Because it was clear the triangle did. He'd trusted the Axolotl to judge the character of the other gods. He'd kept looking toward him like he was trying to gauge his own situation based on the Axolotl's reaction to it. He'd admitted the truth about the remains of his universe and his plans for it. It seemed like the Axolotl was the only one the triangle trusted in all this mess.
The triangle thought that over; then said, "You seem like a grade-A sucker."
He laughed. "I'll try to live up to your opinion of me." He had a guess what kind of people this triangle thought were suckers. The charitable; the caring. The people who didn't think that seeing the worth in everyone was a kind of illness.
"You should know, I intend to legally register my tank as a purgatory. I'll probably submit my application before the end of the week. If you claim it as your afterlife, you'll be transferred to my tank for holding while awaiting trial to decide your final afterlife."
"Ugh, now it all makes sense: you're starting a cult! I don't wanna join your cult, frills—I've got my own."
"But you do want to go straight to your lawyer's office if you're about to go on trial for your sins," the Axolotl said pointedly. "I don't intend to house anyone in my tank permanently. It will just be a transfer place for clients preparing for trial or figuring out where they want to go next—another afterlife, reincarnation... You're already technically dead; you can request at any time to come to my tank, and you'll be there."
"Sounds great for your other clients! But I'm not planning to go on trial and I don't want to be in an afterlife," the triangle said testily. "I'm pretty sure we've been over this!"
"I know you don't. I wish you didn't have to face it. But when you have no choice," the Axolotl said. "When you need it. When your time comes to burn like your people—" (the triangle flinched) "—call me. I'll offer you a second chance at any time."
"Low blow," the triangle muttered. "Don't put yourself out on my account. I'll be fine by myself."
"I'm sure." The Axolotl suspected he'd be putting himself out on the triangle's account for a long time. "What's your name? Your real name."
The background hiss of cosmic noise roared louder. The echoes of billions of erased ghosts said, "THE NAME OF THE MURDERER IS—"
With a flinch, the triangle cranked the distant dance music louder so it spilled cacophonously out of Dimension Zero again. It was too late, though. The Axolotl had heard the triangle's real name.
He pretended he hadn't. He waited.
The triangle didn't answer for a long moment. "You probably wouldn't be able to pronounce it."
"Maybe not." He'd seen how the triangle had winced hearing the cloud try to pronounce the name of some other shape. "I still want to know who you are."
He wrestled with his words; then finally gave up and asked his question. "What... is this place? We're not in the third dimension. When I—freed my dimension, I expected to go up; but we went... down. I didn't know there was a down." He confessed his ignorance in a near whisper, almost drowned out by his own music.
"You're in Dimension Zero." But that wasn't right. Dimension Zero was—should be—a point, and it's impossible to be "in" a point. A point simply is. "You are Dimension Zero."
The triangle said, "Then call me King Zero."
The Axolotl considered that. "Yes," he said. "I think that is your name."
Someone shouted, "Clear the way!" One worker at the construction site was looking directly at the Axolotl. "That means you! Unless you wanna be boiled frog legs!"
"I'm not a frog," the Axolotl muttered; but, he turned one last time to newly-crowned King Zero, said, "Call me," then hastily swam to the safe side of the orange cone barricade.
"Five, four, three..."
The Axolotl watched the triangle—and the triangle watched him—until the detonation. The big bang went off in a flash of light bright enough it would have incinerated anyone in the vicinity had it not been contained to a flat plane.
When the Axolotl looked away from the light, the afterimage of a triangle was burned into the center of his vision.
Dimension Zero was sealed off from the rest of reality—locking its king in for the next trillion years.
####
When the triangle said his name was "King Zero," of course, he wasn't speaking English. English wouldn't exist for a long time. The name King Zero is simply a convenient translation.
The English word "zero" comes from the French zéro. Zéro comes from Italian zefiro. Zefiro comes from Medieval Latin zephirum. And zephirum comes from the Arabic صِفْر—ṣifr.
####
Centuries ago, in the dream of a naive, trusting human, the human asked in Arabic, "What should I call you?" And King Zero responded, "Call me Ṣifr."
And years later, a dreaming human asked in Medieval Latin, "What should I call you, o muse of mathematics?" And of the two Latin words descended from his current Arabic nickname, Ṣifr responded with the one he thought was closer: "Call me Cifra."
A dreaming human asked in Old French, "What's your name?" And he replied, "My name's Cyffre."
Speaking Middle English, he told a dreaming human, "My name's Siphre."
And in Modern English, he told Edward Bishop Bishop, "The name's Cipher. But you can call me Bill."
In a year's time, and two years before his death from sleep deprivation, Edward would write Flatworld, a book about a 2D shape and his Muse journeying up to the highest dimensions; and also all the way down, below the spaces and planes and lines, to the self-absorbed King Zero, buried in the point-sized zeroth dimension, who thought a whole universe was contained inside him.
####
(It's FINISHED. 🎉🎉🎉
Hi y'all, if you just joined us for this Axolotl plot arc, usually this is a post-canon human Bill fic. I took a break from the main plot for one week to post a one-chapter flashback and then it was nine chapters. This bitch is 50k words. It's a novel unto itself.
Anyway if you only showed up for this story about the Ax, it only exists in service of a much longer story; so if you enjoyed this check out the rest of the fic. This is technically chapter 69 (lol). (If human Bill isn't usually your thing, I've been told that this is The Human Bill Fic For People Who Don't Like Human Bills because Bill is clearly very much a triangle unhappily trapped in a human body, rather than just chill with being human—so you might wanna give it a shot.)
And for the regulars who are already reading the whole fic: OH MY GOD IT'S FINALLY FINISHED, WE'RE FREE, WE CAN RETURN TO THE PRESENT. Listen I love the Ax and his bizarre but unbending morality, but guys. Guys. I miss Mabel so much.
Pre-warning that I may end up needing to skip a chapter or two before the end of the year, because work's piling a LOTTA extra work on me this month and I might just flat out not have time to edit & do art. I'm up at 3 a.m. editing & queueing this post and I was up til 3 a.m. another night doing the art because I HAVE NOT HAD TIME this week to do it any earlier. I did this because I love y'all.
No that's a lie, I did this because I want to FINISH this DANG ARC. That's my birthday gift to me.
Anyway lemme know what y'all think!! 💕)
#bill cipher#euclydia#(for the art & the chapter)#the axolotl#gravity falls axolotl#(for the chapter even tho he isn't in the art lmao)#gravity falls#gravity falls fic#gravity falls fanart#fanart#my art#my writing#bill goldilocks cipher#(I'm queueing this at 3:30 am and i'm so tired i almost hit 'post' instead of scheduling it lmfao)#(It's done it's done it's finally done)
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hello !! it is again almost 3am where i am but i cannot stop thinking at nerdy james before he gets buff from quidditch.
headcanon time; first or second year, before he knew his friends, he was like this wimpy little kid that got bullied a whole lot (especially by slytherin kids) and that's why he plays pranks on people.
but but! a request maybe of reader liking james before he got popular, but they never made it known because they're the quiet type. but as james became popular, reader stayed the same and they never really really crossed paths again. but there was a time where reader did something small for james back then which he remembered all those years and then they kiss kiss fall in love.
you can you whatever pronouns you want again for reader !!
- 🌱
took the liberty of making the reader a gryffindor hope thats ok
𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞
⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 2.8k ⟢ warnings/tags: intoxication (not reader or james), unsolicited flirting from random guy, james is taller than r, gryffindor!reader, introvert!reader, no specific pronouns for reader used
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Secluded in a quiet corner is where you feel most comfortable at parties. Your fellow Gryffindors are a boisterous bunch, and that's never been your style, making it much easier to watch events like these from the sidelines.
This doesn't make you the most popular student in your house. It's not as though people don't like you, but they don't really know you. If they had to, the vocabulary they would use to describe you would be limited to quiet, nice, and… quiet.
You’ve always wondered if you would've fit in better in another house. Ravenclaw always seemed appealing. Or Hufflepuff maybe. But for reasons you don't understand, the sorting hat put you here. With the daring, self-assured, unreserved students that you couldn't be anymore like. But, you never really minded. As different as they are, at least they're nice.
For the most part.
"Hey, baby," one of your housemates drawls, emerging from the lively crowd and invading your corner. You can't say you remember his name as he cozies up next to you, unceremoniously situating himself against the wall. His shoulder crashes against it roughly as he says, "You look lonely over here."
His warm, beer-scented breath invades your senses and you scrunch your nose in discomfort, veering away from him as you reply, "I'm fine."
"Want some company?" he presses, surging forward to make up for the space you created and then some.
"No, thank you." It's almost annoying that your instinct is to be polite as this guy invades your personal space.
"Cos I could make for some real nice company," he adds, a sinister smirk working its way onto his face as you cringe away from him.
You're wracking your brain for a way out of this situation, when a familiar voice sounds from behind you, saving you the trouble.
"Hey, ready to head out?" James Potter says, and you have no idea what he's talking about, but at least it makes the other guy back away from you slightly.
"James," you blurt, rather dumbly, surprised at his sudden closeness.
Truthfully, you have been eyeing him from your corner; admiring the boy from afar as you have for years. Most of Gryffindor fancies him, and you're no exception. But who wouldn't have a thing for Gryffindor's valiant captain and ever confident head boy? Especially when that boy looks the way James does: standing over six feet tall with a chiseled, muscular physique (thank you, Quidditch). He seems to know it too, the way he carries himself with confidence.
His most captivating feature, though, is his bright, infectious smile. It's always been your favorite thing about him, even when it was still the shy, hesitant grin of a boy who wasn’t yet confident in himself.
"It's about time for us to get out of here, don't you think?" James smiles, baring all of his pearly whites, and he looks like something out of a dream. His eyes flick from you to the boy to your left. "Oh, hey Callaghan, didn't see you there."
"Potter," Callaghan nods in greeting. "You, uh, you know..." he trails off, gesturing aimlessly to you. You're not surprised that he doesn't know your name.
"Y/N? Course I do," James says, stepping closer to you.
But that. That's a surprise.
James towers over both of you, making Callaghan take another step back in intimidation. You're too busy being surprised to feel relieved over the space. James knows your name?
Callaghan gestures between the two of you, trying the gauge your relationship. "And you two are...?"
"Leaving," James says, offering you his hand, “Right?”
You stare at his hand, momentarily dumbfounded, before you take it, “Right.”
You feel kind of hazy as you let James lead you away from Callaghan, away from the lively party, and out into the corridor. The situation is so surreal that you wouldn't be surprised if you suddenly woke up to find it was all a dream. When was the last time you even spoke to James Potter?
"You alright?" James' voice cuts through the silence of Hogwarts' halls. Your eyes meet his concerned ones as he leans against the stone wall, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
"Yeah, I'm alright," you say, still a little muddled. You snap out of it with a shake of your head, remembering your manners, "Thank you, by the way."
"Psh," he waves his hand through the air, brushing it off, "You don't need to thank me. Any person with eyes could see Callaghan was being... off putting." James scrunches his nose in judgement, pausing as if to bite his tongue, like has more to say about Callaghan but better not. "Any decent person would've stepped in. No thank you necessary."
"Well I'm thankful anyway," you say quietly, the corner of your mouth tugging upward into a small smile.
James' eyes dart to your lips, your gesture conjuring a wide smile on James' own lips. You're momentarily distracted as his tongue runs across his teeth, barely hearing him as he says, "Well, I may be reluctant to accept your gratitude because I may have had some selfish reasons behind my method."
Your lips part, twitching into the shape of various words that never leave your lips. You feel very warm all of a sudden.
James does a rubbish job of hiding the amusement in his eyes, but he is kind enough to put you out of your misery with an explanation, "I need a walking buddy. Was hoping you'd like to join me?"
You're not any less dumfounded but you manage to get the words out this time. "You want me to go on a walk with you?"
"Yeah," James says, like it's not strange at all.
"Why didn't you ask one of your friends to go?"
"You are my friend," James insists, and you cock and eyebrow.
"I was surprised that you even knew my name."
"Of course I know you! We're friends," he emphasizes.
You look at him skeptically, not sure what you did to make a friend out of him. Not that you wouldn't like to be his friend, but friends usually talk to each other. The last time James spoke to you was last year to ask if you had an extra roll of parchment. And he was more so asking the entire class, you just so happened to be the one with the parchment.
"Do you not want to be my friend?" He asks in a teasing tone, having let you stare in silent skepticism for long enough.
He's not being serious, but you panic anyway. "What!? No! I mean no I don't not want to be friends!"
He chuckles as he pushes himself up from wall. "Then walk with me, would'ya?" He nods his head off in the same direction he starts walking, expecting that you'll follow.
You do, your feet moving faster than your brain can overthink your way into a no. But as you walk next to him your thoughts catch up with you.
What are you supposed to talk about? What do you know about him? Quidditch. What do you know about Quidditch? You know lots about Quidditch. Quick, say something about Quidditch before this silence gets awkward. Why do you suddenly not know anything about Quidditch?
The effects of your racing mind are written across face, your features contorted in worry and a lasting skepticism as you glance up at James every so often.
James is glancing at you too, finding every little crease and contour from your worried look endearing as silent laughter bubbles in his chest.
"Alright, what's that face?" James finally asks, his tone as gentle as possible as not to make you uncomfortable.
Your expression softens into sheepishness. James looks at you with such kindness that you find yourself voicing your concerns.
"We're friends?" you ask in a small, hesitant voice.
James is quick to defend his claim, "I've known you since we were kids!"
"We haven't spoken since we were kids," you say.
He seems to deflate at your words, faltering as he experiences a moment of speechlessness.
"Besides," you go on, a hint of smugness creeping up on you, "we've known everyone at this school since we were kids. Does that make us friends with everyone?"
James is quick to shake his head. "Not everyone was as kind as you back then."
Any trace of smugness has been quickly expunged and replaced by a fluttering in your stomach as his eyes fill with what you would call admiration if you didn't know any better.
"And you were exceptionally kind," he adds on, not helping ease the butterflies in your stomach. "Though you're right. I should've talked to you. I don't know why I didn't talk to you more."
"It's okay," you say in a small voice, prompting you to clear your throat before you continue, "We're talking now."
James smiles that radiant, charming smile that makes you swoon. Before silence can settle over you James' face lights up as an idea pops into his head.
"Have you even been on the Quidditch Pitch at night? I mean, when there's no game going on?"
You shake your head, your eyebrows creasing as you find his question rather random. Before you've fully grasped what he's implying, he's grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the castle.
A gasp escapes your lips as he tugs you along, his enthusiasm and long strides causing him to race ahead without realizing how fast he’s moving. It's only when you're outside that you find your voice again.
"James!"
He slows his pace and drops your hand. For a moment, he looks almost embarrassed, shrugging his shoulders as he lacks an excuse for his sudden burst of energy.
You shake your head with a smile. “Some things never change. Do you ever take a deep breath and just mellow out?” you ask, noticing with amusement that he’s just as hyperactive now as he was when you were kids.
James makes a big show of taking a long, deep breath as he falls into step with you at a much more leisurely pace than before.
You shake your head again, chuckling.
"Some things do change, by the way. For example, you were taller than me back then," he says, resting his elbow on the top of your head to emphasize the difference.
You jerk your head away, playfully retorting, "Everyone was taller than you."
"Shut up!" he laughs, letting his arm fall to his side. He's close enough that his arm brushes against yours as you walk. You feel the shake of his laughs against your skin and you can't help but giggle along.
It doesn't take long to walk to the quidditch pitch. The walk felt shorter than it does on game days, but maybe that's because you didn't have James to walk with.
You follow James out to the very center of the field, where he wastes no time to plop down into the grass. "Lay with me," he says, crossing his arms behind his head. "You can see all the stars from out here," he says to convince you.
"You come out here a lot?" you ask as you sink down beside him. The grass tickles your skin as you lay down.
"I've been coming out here since I was a first year," James reveals. "I used to lay in the grass, just like this, and imagine what I would look like flying above dodging bludgers and scoring winning goals."
"Yeah?"
James hums affirmatively. "I've always loved Quidditch. Wanted to play for as long as I can remember. And then I came to Hogwarts, and Merlin, I thought the Quidditch players were so cool. Wanted to be like them so bad."
"What does it feel like?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you’re the one first years are looking up to now."
"No, they're not," James scoffs in complete disbelief.
"James," you deadpan, thinking he can't be serious. "You're the Gryffindor captain and rightfully so. One of the best chasers Hogwarts has probably ever seen. I mean, way you escaped that bludger last weekend?” you muse. “Not to mention the Chudley Chop Down you pulled off. You looked just like the professionals, it was incredible!"
James is caught at a loss for words again, a rare occurrence for him, but you've managed to make it happen twice now.
You clear your throat, realizing how you've just raved on about him to his face. You excuse yourself with, "I, um, I really like Quidditch."
James blinks away the awestricken glint in his eyes, responding, "Figured as much. Don't think I've ever played a game I haven't seen you in the crowd of. But enough about me," he continues. "What about you and your achievements, eh?”
“What are you talking about?”
"Don't be coy. You have to be the brightest witch at Hogwarts."
"No, that's–"
"C'mon I've seen the marks you get. And no one gets Gryffindor more house points in class than you do. All the professors love you; Slughorn always seats you to his right at Slug Club meetings. And I thought Minnie had a soft spot for me but then I saw how she talks to you."
"Maybe if you called her Professor McGonagall once in a while," you tease, trying to distract him from showering you with anymore compliments to spare your heart from racing any longer.
"Wouldn't matter. She likes you because you're smart. Driven too. She knows you’ll do great things after school. Everyone knows you'll be one of the most successful in our class."
"I hardly think anyone notices me,” you say, nervously ripping up blades of grass from the ground.
"I have," he says, looking at you with so much fondness it takes your breath away.
Your eyes widen, sparkling with warm astonishment at all his kind words. James notices the way your parted lips curve into a small, shy smile. Slowly, it grows into a grin.
He nudges you, "Now what's that look for?"
"This is just... unexpected."
"Unexpected?"
"I mean I didn't realize you remembered by name, let alone knew anything about me."
James' expression is tinted with disbelief. He removes his arms from behind his head as he angles his body slightly toward you, gearing towards something serious. "Of course I did. When I said you were kind to me back then, you were really the only one who was. How could I forget you?"
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as James sighs deeply.
"Merlin, I really should have talked to you more," he says, shaking his head.
"It's okay–"
"No," he insists, "I should have talked to you more. I don't know why I didn't– I mean I do know why I just..."
You swallow hard, giving yourself time to find your voice. "There's a reason?" you ask.
James turns his head, shifting back against the grass as his gaze finding the stars above him. You can see the moon reflecting in his eyes as he bathes in its light. He looks ethereal like this.
"You make me nervous," he's able to admit in the comfort of not having to see your reaction, pretending it’s just him and the moon out here.
Your jaw goes slack. You'd sooner think you're being pranked or he's under some kind of spell than to believe his words.
"What?" you finally utter. Your hand freezes with a chunk of freshly ripped up grass held hostage between your fingertips.
James chuckles, "You were so nice to me. And I always thought you were so pretty I– every time you said something kind to me I would get so red in the face."
You're silent, at a loss for words as you try to wrap your mind around his admission. If the tips of his ears hadn't turned red, you'd think he's lying.
"I mean everything made me nervous back then," he continues. "Thank Merlin I grew out of that, but you..."
James finally looks at you again, his eyes darting across your face as he absorbs your reaction. Carefully, he takes hold of your wrist, placing your palm flat on his chest, over his heart.
"You still make my heart race," he says quietly, and you can feel the proof under your fingertips.
Words make their way past your lips almost instinctively, driven by a desire to reassure him. "I... I was too nervous to talk to you too."
The fondness in his eyes grows even warmer, and he begins tracing gentle lines on the back of your wrist with the pad of his thumb. "It's alright," he says. His tone is genuine and hopeful as he continues, "We're talking now," he repeats your words from earlier with newfound affection. "And I'd really like it if we could keep talking."
"Yeah," you say. A wave of courage washes over you, and you adjust your hand to intertwine your fingers with his. "Me too."
After that, you find yourself out here a lot more often, staring at the stars with James, your fingers intertwined. You're both much more comfortable around each other now, but from time to time, you still make each other's heart race.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
#james potter x reader#james potter fluff#james potter one shot#james potter fanfic#james potter#james potter fanfiction#james potter x you#marauders#marauders fic#marauders oneshot#fluff#james fleamont potter#james potter drabble#james potter fic#james potter oneshot#gryffindor!reader#james potter x gryffindor!reader#marauders era#marauders drabbles#marauders drabble#marauders fanfic#james potter x anxious!reader#anxious!reader#james potter x gn!reader
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A Surprise Visitor
Word count: 2.1k
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Summary: After two years of watching from afar, Y/n surprises her boyfriend, Lando Norris, at the Monza Grand Prix, creating a buzz in the paddock and revealing their private relationship.
Requests are open
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The hum of the jet engines thrummed through the cabin, but I was too excited to care. This was finally happening. After two years of watching Lando's races from my cramped little apartment, I was on my way to my first Grand Prix. It had taken a miracle—or more precisely, a break in my grueling medical school schedule—to make it happen, and now I was on a plane bound for Monza. Lando had no idea I was coming.
For two years, we had been each other's biggest supporters, but always from afar. With my studies and his relentless racing schedule, we made it work through late-night FaceTime calls, stolen weekends, and text messages sent across different time zones. Lando understood how much becoming a doctor meant to me, and I understood how much racing meant to him. It wasn't always easy, but it was worth it. And now, finally, I was going to surprise him at one of the biggest races of the season.
The plan was simple: get to Monza, navigate through the labyrinth of the paddock area, and find Lando. But of course, it wasn't going to be that easy. After all, Lando had kept our relationship very private—mostly because of my request. I had wanted to avoid any extra scrutiny or attention that could interfere with my studies. So, not many people knew who I was. That anonymity had always been a blessing, but today, it might turn into a curse.
As I approached the entrance to the paddock, the reality of the situation hit me. The security was tight, and without a pass, there was no easy way in. I tried to remain calm and confident as I approached the guard at the gate, a stern-looking man. I put on my most winning smile.
"Hi, I’m here for Lando Norris. I'm his girlfriend," I said, hoping my nerves didn’t show in my voice.
The guard didn’t even flinch. He glanced at me. “Do you have a pass, ma’am?”
“Uh, no, I don’t. I’m surprising him. He doesn’t know I’m here.”
He raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t have a pass, I can’t let you in. Anyone could say they're someone’s girlfriend.”
I felt my face flush. Of course, he was right. I had counted on my story being enough, but without any proof, I was just another face in the crowd. My mind raced, trying to think of something, anything, that would convince him. I pulled out my phone, scrolling frantically through my photos to find one of Lando and me that wasn’t overly intimate but still proved I knew him. Finally, I found one from his last birthday—a picture of us at a quiet dinner, his arm wrapped around my shoulder, both of us smiling like idiots.
“Look, this is us,” I said, holding the phone up to the guard.
He squinted at it, but it still didn’t seem to sway him. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but without clearance, I can’t let you in.”
I bit my lip, starting to panic. Would I really come all this way just to be turned away at the gate? Just then, I heard a familiar voice from behind the guard.
“Hey, is there a problem here?”
It was Charlotte, one of Lando’s closest friends who often accompanied him to races. Relief washed over me. She knew who I was, thank goodness. The guard turned to her, explaining the situation, and Charlotte’s eyes lit up when she saw me.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re here!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a quick hug. “She’s with Lando. She’s legit,” she assured the guard, who seemed to visibly relax.
“Alright, you’re good to go,” he said, opening the gate for me. I breathed out a sigh of relief, thanking Charlotte profusely.
“Lando’s going to flip when he sees you,”
Charlotte led me through the bustling paddock, weaving between crew members, engineers, and the odd driver. My heart pounded with every step. I couldn’t believe I was finally here, in the thick of it, about to see Lando. I’d spent so many weekends watching him on TV, wishing I could be there to support him in person. Now, I was just moments away from making that a reality.
As we rounded a corner, I saw the familiar McLaren colors and a group of people crowded around, busy with last-minute preparations. And there he was, standing near his car, deep in conversation with his race engineer. I paused, taking him in. Lando looked focused, his brow furrowed as he listened intently. He was in his element, and seeing him like this—so determined, so alive—made my heart swell with pride.
Charlotte gave me a nudge and a wink. “Go on.”
Taking a deep breath, I walked toward him, trying to keep my emotions in check. With each step, my excitement grew, and I couldn't help but smile. When I was just a few feet away, Lando turned around, still half-listening to his engineer. His eyes skimmed over me at first, not really registering who I was, but then they widened. His mouth fell open in shock.
“Y/N?” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “What… what are you doing here?”
The smile on my face grew wider. “Surprise!”
For a moment, he just stood there, frozen, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Then, in a heartbeat, his face broke into the biggest grin I’d ever seen. He closed the distance between us in two strides, wrapping me in a tight hug and lifting me off the ground. I laughed, burying my face in his shoulder, his familiar scent wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.
“I can’t believe this,” he said, his voice muffled against my hair. He set me down gently but kept his arms around me as if afraid I might disappear if he let go. “You’re really here?”
“Yeah, I am,” I said, my own eyes brimming with happy tears. “I finally managed to get a break from school. I wanted to surprise you.”
“You did more than surprise me,” he said, pulling back to look at me. His eyes were bright with joy, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
I felt a warmth spread through my chest, seeing just how much my presence meant to him. “I’m so proud of you, Lando. I’ve been watching every race from my apartment, but I’m finally here to cheer you on in person.”
His face softened, and for a moment, it was just the two of us, standing in the middle of the chaotic paddock, wrapped up in our little world. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “I wish you could be here all the time.”
“I wish I could too,” I replied. “But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He chuckled, the sound warm and full of relief. “I have to admit, this is the best surprise ever. But how did you even get in? Did anyone recognize you?”
“Not exactly,” I laughed. “It was a bit of a challenge. Charlotte saved the day.”
He glanced over my shoulder and waved a grateful hand at Charlotte, who gave him a thumbs-up and a knowing smile. “Remind me to thank her later,” he said with a grin before turning his attention back to me. “But seriously, Y/N, you being here… it just makes everything better.”
I felt my heart flutter at his words. “Well, I’m glad I could make your day a little brighter. Now, you better go out there and win, okay? I didn’t come all this way for nothing.”
Lando’s grin widened, and he nodded with determination. “With you here, I feel like I can do anything.”
He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, and I felt a rush of warmth spread from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. “Stay close, alright? After the race, we’re celebrating. Just you and me.”
“Deal,” I said, squeezing his hand. “Now go be amazing.”
Lando jogged back to his team, but not before throwing a final, beaming smile my way. My heart swelled seeing how happy he was. I lingered by the McLaren garage, watching him fall back into his pre-race routine. As I waited, Charlotte stayed with me, giving me a quick rundown of the paddock scene. The energy was buzzing, filled with engineers shouting, journalists hunting for stories, and drivers moving from garage to garage.
As Lando chatted with his team, I noticed a few heads turning in my direction, whispers circulating among the crew. It wasn’t long before Daniel Ricciardo, Lando’s former teammate, appeared with his trademark grin, clearly having caught wind of the new face in the paddock.
“Oi, Norris!” Daniel called out, his voice cutting through the noise. “You’ve been holding out on us, mate! Who’s this lovely lady?”
Lando looked up, a sheepish yet proud grin spreading across his face. He glanced at me, then back at Daniel. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend. She’s finally here to see me race.”
I felt my cheeks flush as all eyes turned toward me. Daniel's grin widened, his playful nature kicking in immediately. “Girlfriend, huh? And you kept her hidden all this time? Smart move, mate.”
He walked over, extending a hand to me. “Daniel, nice to meet you. I’ve gotta say, we all wondered if Lando had someone special cheering him on from the shadows. Now I see why he’s been driving so fast. Gotta impress the missus, eh?”
I laughed, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you too, Daniel. And yeah, I’ve been watching all the races from home. I’m finally getting a front-row seat.”
Before I knew it, more drivers began to gather around, curious to meet Lando’s mystery girl. George Russell approached with a friendly smile. “So, you’re the one who’s been keeping Norris in line? Good job,” he said, giving Lando a teasing nudge. “Didn’t know you had it in you, mate.”
Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “Oh, shut up. Just because you guys didn’t know doesn’t mean I was keeping secrets.”
Charles Leclerc joined the group, his charming smile lighting up his face. “Y/N, right? I’m Charles. It’s nice to meet you. I have to say, Lando’s been very quiet about you, but now I see why. He was trying to keep you away from us.”
“Not a bad idea,” Lando chimed in, trying to sound casual, but I could sense a slight edge to his tone. “You lot can be a bit much sometimes.”
Charles chuckled, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease Lando. “Come on, we’re not that bad! Besides, now that she’s here, we can all get to know her better.”
As the group chatted, I could feel Lando's arm subtly wrap around my waist, a gentle but possessive gesture. I couldn’t help but smile to myself; he was clearly proud to show me off but also keen to make sure everyone knew I was his.
Max Verstappen wandered over next, always one to enjoy a bit of friendly banter. “Lando, man, you’ve been hiding her from us because you knew we’d try to steal her away, huh?” he said with a playful smirk.
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Lando shot back, his tone light but his grip on my waist tightening ever so slightly.
As we continued to chat, I noticed Carlos Sainz giving me a slightly lingering look. He flashed me a charming smile. “You know, if you ever get tired of this guy, you could always come cheer for Ferrari,” he joked, winking.
I laughed, enjoying the light-hearted teasing, but I felt Lando tense beside me. He tried to play it off with a chuckle, but I could tell the idea of me getting attention from his friends—even if it was in jest—was stirring a little jealousy.
“Alright, alright,” Lando cut in, his voice a mix of amusement and a hint of possessiveness. “I see what you’re all trying to do, and it’s not going to work. Y/N is here with me, and that’s how it’s staying.”
Daniel, always quick to pick up on vibes, grinned broadly. “Look at him getting all protective! I think we’ve found Lando’s kryptonite, boys.”
Lando rolled his eyes, but his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. At least I have someone to protect,” he shot back, which earned a chorus of “ooohs” from the group.
I squeezed his hand reassuringly, leaning in close to whisper, “You know they’re just messing with you, right?”
He nodded, his expression softening as he looked at me. “Yeah, I know. But I still don’t like the idea of anyone hitting on you—even as a joke.”
I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his protectiveness. “Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m exactly where I want to be.”
#fanfiction#reader insert#fanfic#f1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#fluff#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando x reader#formula 1#formula one#formula racing
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Throughout all your years as an artist now working at DisneyTVA, have you ever felt pressured to keep your work and image "family friendly"? Like, have you ever had an idea, whether for a project or your Hanamusa comics, you scraped at the last moment in order to keep a "professional image"? As a small content creator, I sometimes think about it to the point I avoid things like cursing lol.
Not particularly! I feel like most employers and most other people in animation don't care what you do in your free time and what you post (save for being like,,, an actual bigot and being vocal about it)
I feel like the only time I really cared was really early on when I was just trying to break in. But I quickly learned no one else cared and just being yourself and allowing yourself that freedom showed employers who I genuinely was and I think people can feel that authenticity.
I've drawn nsfw, I've cussed, I post all my gay shit, etc. I think the only people that might care are the "very online" crowd. I'm usually not on the receiving end of that since I generally have a pretty "clean" presence online but the only time I've felt any sort of pressure to keep appearances up was on here or twitter from random users.
I will say, I do have stuff that I only post my locked private/nsfw accounts, not because of pressure, but my own personal values. And also not everyone needs to know exactly what's going on in my brain all the time haha. That's for my close friends and people I trust.
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Continuation/just ideas I have of the Mecha Pilot Jazz Au by @keferon
First part can be found here :)
A03 version -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/60978709
---
No one is really sure what to think when Jazz finally returns to the general populace, the crowded common room he steps into with Prowl at his side going silent at the mech's arrival.
No, not a mech, a frame piloted by an organic Wheeljack swore to the Pit and back was smaller than most of their servos.
"Soooo, what's up?" Jazz leaned against the closest table as Prowl got himself some energon, no longer keeping up the pretense he needed such liquid.
"That's what you have to say?" Starscream gawked from his seat, the seeker looking like he wanted to start dissecting Jazz's mecha as much as pry the pilot out. "Are all organics from your planet this...this flippant?"
"Not really?" Jazz shrugged, glad no one could see the grin on his face when Prowl rejoined him, placing himself between Jazz and everyone else in the room with a minute flick of his doorwings. "Hell, you sound like one of my commanders, he'd be having a fit right about now."
"Rightfully so, I should say." Mirage commented from behind Jazz, the pilot grinning to himself when he turned, only to see what was supposedly a blank wall. "Then again, you seem to be the type of bo - organic to cause mayhem on the regular."
"Human." Jazz could hear more than a few processors whir at the strange term, and after a moment, grabs a seat at the table next to him. "Organic sounds weird to me, so you can call me human or just my name, I'm not picky."
"Human...weird." Jazz isn't sure who spoke as his visor offlined, ensuring his mecha was supported before fully breaking the connection. The entire room went silent when Jazz's chassis made a soft click before opening, noises of alarm escaping vocalizers as they expected to see a spark, wondering what in Primus' name the org - human was thinking when something moved. What should have been a spark chamber was something else entirely, the central interior some sort of piloting seat that housed the human they'd all come to trust and fight alongside, who waved as he undid a harness. Prowl was the only thing stopping the Cybertronians around Jazz from moving any closer, his doorwings up in a sharp V when he carefully placed one of his servos just below Jazz, Mirage shimmering into view on the other side of Jazz's mecha when the human hopped onto the limb.
"Hey, fellas." Prowl kept his hold on Jazz as he stepped back from the temporarily deactivated suit, setting him on the table's surface as carefully as possible. "Aw, thanks Prowler!"
"You look strange for an organic." Thundercracker tilted his helm slightly, wanting a closer look but not stupid enough to test how close he could actually get.
"I guess?" Jazz reached up to unlatch his helmet, biting back a laugh when there were a few surprised vents at the reveal of his hair. "Back home, I'd say I'm about the best we humans can look."
"With an ego to match." Mirage cycled his optics with a smirk, eyeing his friend curiously while keeping himself between any bot stupid enough to try and sneak up on Prowl's blindside. "Your frame suits you."
"And don't I know it." Jazz winked, setting his helmet on the table by his feet. "Man, you guys are just...so much bigger in person. I mean I know you are, it's just weird ta see it with my own eyes, er optics."
"Trust me, it's weird for us too." Sideswipe commented from his spot among the crowd, amused more than anything when the inevitable questions started pouring in. To his credit, Jazz tries to answer some of them, but he steps back when Prowl draws himself to his full height and silences almost everyone when he crosses his arms, smiling to himself when the bot speaks.
"If you have any further questions, you can ask them another time, most of you are late for your assigned duty shifts, Jazz included."
"Ya wound me Prowler!" The human let out a whine at the supposed betrayal, but the grin never left his face as he turned to his mecha. "I guess I could get movin', don't want to keep Brawn too late."
"Indeed." Prowl offered his servo once more, aware of the many prying optics watching as Jazz hopped onto his palm, slipping his strange helm covering back on as he was safely delivered back to his larger frame. They watched Jazz buckle himself back into the harness within the spa - piloting chamber, the chassis closing up when something connected with the back of his helm covering, the visor on the frame they were all accustomed to lighting up with a slight hum.
"Fun time's over." Jazz waved his servo, everyone murmuring to each other while they slowly dispersed. "Man that was fun."
"You find most activities fun, dangerous or otherwise." Prowl shook his helm in exasperation as Jazz laughed, the human leaning over to gently bonk his helm against Prowl's.
"I'll see you later, gorgeous." With that Jazz sweeps out of the room, Prowl watching him go with a look that made Mirage do a double take.
"You definitely chose someone...interesting." The saboteur chuckled, saving the image of a soft smile on Prowl's face for some future use.
"So I have..."
---
Jazz had wondered what Prowl's face felt like from the moment the met, in awe at how the metal creased and smoothed out much like his own skin did. Would it be cold and stiff, or warm and pliable? Ah the thought plagued him from time to time, becoming worse when he fell for said mech.
So, when he comes across Prowl asleep (no recharge) at his desk, a data pad clutched in his clawed hands, Jazz grins. Locking the door to Prowl's office, more for the tactician's peace of mind than his own, Jazz quietly grabs the only other chair in the room and sets it down on the other side of Prowl's desk, resting one arm on top of the table. Prowl is still asleep when Jazz powers down the link with his mecha, shivering at the sensation of becoming so small before slowly unbuckling himself, setting his helmet aside before starting the (admittedly) long journey across the room. Thankfully his magnetic lock boots made his journey down the arm of his faithful mecha relatively safe, staring up at his boyfriend (boybot? Ugh no, no way in hell) with an amused smile.
"Always gonna be the smallest huh?"
Now, here comes the hard part, one that could end up getting him flung across the room or smashed into paste if he triggered the wrong response from his sleeping partner. Okay, deep breath, and with a quick crossing of his fingers, Jazz activated the magnetics in his gloves before placing them on Prowl's arm as a test run. One doorwing twitched at the initial contact, but Prowl remained still, and with a deep breath Jazz started climbing, climbing up his mech's arm nice and slow. It was a little tricky when he reached Prowl's shoulder, but with a little awkward shuffling and a twist of his upper body, Jazz was within reach of his partner's face.
Now here comes the Hard Part Two: Electric Boogaloo.
It took a few tries to unwrap the base of his glove with his teeth, heart racing when he was only attached to Prowl via his shoes and magnetized knee pads in order to free his hand, but soon he was ready to do the biggest thing he's wanted to since he first laid eyes on Prowl. His hand is shaking slightly, but that doesn't matter when it makes contact with Prowl's cheek, brain short circuiting at how...soft and warm the metal was to his touch. While it didn't exactly move with his touch, Jazz could feel the nanites that were on the outer surface of every Cybertronian react, twitching when he felt a buzzing under his finger tips. He becomes used to the buzz as he takes his time mapping out the dips and curves of Prowl's face, missing the cycling of optics before a loud chirp breaks the silence, Jazz yelping as he jerked back in surprise far enough to detach from Prowl's shoulder. He doesn't fall very far when he lands on a hand (servo dude) with a grunt, Prowl looking worried as Jazz propped himself up on one arm.
"Are you alright?"
"Yep! Next time I need ta clip a harness on you or somethin', don't want to fall again." Jazz waved with his uncovered hand, sitting cross-legged on Prowl's palm. "Saw you asleep, an' I couldn't resist."
"Resist what?" A quick look at his chronometer showed he'd not been asleep too long, optics flickering down to his partner when he felt something strange touch one of his digits.
"This might sound kinda weird, but I've wanted ta touch your face since we met." Jazz had uncovered his second hand and was touching the closest digit, a look he couldn't classify crossing Jazz's face when he gave it a squeeze. "Weird, these are warm, but not as warm as your face."
"Did you enjoy your...examination?" Something fluttered in his spark at the smile Jazz gave him, and once again gave thanks to Primus that he'd been given a chance.
"Mhm! I'd love to again some time, see those pretty lil' optics of yours." Jazz winked, watching doorwings give a full on flutter. "Glad we both agree."
"You shall be the end of me, Jazz." Embarrassment colors Prowl's words as he sits back in his chair, watching Jazz lay back on his palm, hands underneath his head as he sighs happily.
"Your hand is pretty comfy...not a sentence I ever expected to say to my boyfriend, but it is what it is."
"I suppose you shall have to make yourself comfortable then, I still have some reports to finish." Prowl clicked, grabbing the pad he'd been reading before he fell asleep.
"Gives me an excuse to nap then." Jazz moved to remove the outer layer that supported his pedes, his processor supplying the word shoe as Jazz resumed his position with a yawn. "Have fun Prowler."
"Have a pleasant recharge, Jazz."
Jazz doesn't need to know he had already completed his work before his "nap", merely settling in for a novel he'd wanted to get through as his partner slept in his grasp.
#personal#transformers#mecha pilot jazz au#tf mecha universe#jazzprowl#jazz#prowl#mirage#absolutely adore this AU#feral Prowl barely holding back to keep his human safe
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— oh and by the way im married (zhongli) .
synopsis !! zhongli neglects to inform his friends that he's married.
contains !! they/them reader but referred to as wife, comedic dialogue
Z H O N G L I
Perhaps it's the fact that you've been married for centuries that informing others didn't seem to be a priority for Zhongli.
It wasn't obvious either. He had his day job and you had yours. To regular couples, the amount of distance you two spend would be a little strange, but time is something you have in abundance so it didn't really matter when you spend a few days apart doing your day jobs.
It was Hutao who brought it up the on the evening's Lantern Rite dinner.
"Aiyaya, it seems like everybody alive and dead has a date for this year's lantern rite."
"Hahaha! And here we are celebrating a feast with new and old friends. It doesn't sound like much of a loss to me." Venti laugjs, pouring himself a drink that threatens to overflow from his hand.
"I'm not saying it's a loss, I'm simply wondering wouldn't some of you want to spend the night with a special someone?" She smirks, eyes scanning the group. Chongyun coughs into his cup as Xiao averts his gaze from the troublemaker.
"If you're asking for my opinion, I'd say everyone here is quite special to me," Lumine smiles warmly before glancing at the two archons and yaksha, "I'm sure there's still time for dating in the future. We're not that old."
"Well. . ." Hutao turns to Zhongli. He raises a brow, placing down his cup.
"May I ask why you're staring at me, Director Hu?"
"No reason~ It's just, as your boss, of course I'm a little bit concerned. Aren't you wasting your youth by not going out on dates, mister Zhongli? I'm sure there's a line of Liyuens who would love to–"
A burst of laughter comes from the green bard. "Oh, him? On a Lantern Rite date with someone else? (Name) would surely kill him."
"(Name)?" Everyone questions.
"Huh? He didn't tell you?" Venti tilts his head.
Zhongli coughs, "Ah. . . Please don't be concerned about my dating life, Director Hu. After all, I am already married."
Silence.
A cup drops.
Tea spills (literally).
Then,
"Married?!" The restaurant shakes as Hutao and Lumine jolt upright, hands slamming the table.
"Married." Zhongli confirms.
"What! For how long? When? What's their name? Why have you never–"
Zhongli hushes, trying to calm his boss from jumping over the table. His face dusts a light pink, perhaps embarrassed by the whole ordeal.
"For a few. . . years now. As you know, they're (Name). And as for why I never mentioned my wife. . ." He glances at the crowd, ". . . I simply forgot."
"You. . . forgot," Xingqiu slowly repeats.
"Yes, it seems I've forgotten to inform everyone. Then again, is it not obvious that I'm a married man?"
Chongyun covers his face in his hands, processing the whole ordeal, "Thinking back. . . mister Zhongli always had a domestic kind of aura. It seems so obvious now."
"Wait, wait, wait! How come I didn't know about this? We work together almost everyday! And why does Venti know! Didn't you two just met! Do you even have a ring?" Hutao interjects, flabbergasted as Zhongli and Venti freezes.
In truth, he does have a ring. One he carved himself made of only the most precious of jade and metal. It has rested under his glove for centuries—
Under his glove also hides his draconic arms, golden veins against dark brown, almost scale-like skin. Proof of a entity greater than human.
"Ehe. . . about that," Venti nervously looks away, "I've actually. . . met his wife before!" He covers up, voice laced with enthusiasm.
"Yes, yes, my wife is quite fond of Mondstadt's songs. They've frequently visited the nation before."
"And you don't come along?" Xiangling asks.
"I don't."
The group blinks.
"And what about the ring? I never see you wear a wedding ring." Hutao narrows her eyes.
"That's because I don't wear it." He answers bluntly.
". . . and you never introduced them to us because. . .?" Lumine questions.
"Because . . . I haven't had the time to?"
Hutao rests back on her chair, her eyes glazed in judgment, "No offense mister Zhongli, but you seem like a terrible husband. If you don't get your act straight, I'd say your marriage won't last."
His jaw drops. Venti laughs.
|| ko-fi support / character m.list ||
~ bonus ~
"Darling, am I a terrible husband?"
"No? What makes you think that?"
"No reason. Although I believe we should try dating publicly."
tumblr has been deleting my last paragraphs why
//for some reason tumblr has been deleting my last lines in drafts so i have to type this so my last sentences wont get deleted
"No reason. But perhaps it's about time I show you off to the public more."
ko-fi support | character m.list
#genshin#genshin zhongli#zhongli x reader#genshin impact#zhongli#zhongli fluff#zhongli fic#genshin fluff#genshin x reader
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