#but feel free to poke me for a thread if you have something in mind!

[harrysfolklore]

christ-max -mv1

summary: you invite your boyfriend max to spend christmas with you for the first time, however, your family doesn't quite believe you're dating a formula 1 world champion. wc: 5.8k

folkie radio: HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOUUUU! i hope you're having the best day ever with your loves ones. this fic ended up being longer than i intended but i hope you like it!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You're nestled into Max's side on his couch, wrapped in the soft throw blanket he keeps specifically for these quiet moments together. The afternoon light filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Monaco apartment, casting a glow across the room. Your feet are tucked under you, and you can smell the lingering scent of the coffee you both made earlier.

The Netflix show you'd put on - some random documentary about deep-sea creatures - has become mere background noise. Max's fingers are threading through your hair in that gentle way that always makes you melt, occasionally stopping to massage your scalp. .

"I can't believe the season's actually over," you murmur, tracing lazy patterns on his arm. "Feels weird not having to plan around race weekends anymore."

Max chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rests. "Yeah, but now we have to plan around all the end-of-year events instead. Did you see how many galas and ceremonies are coming up?"

"At least those don't involve you flying halfway across the world," you tease, tilting your head to look up at him. His hair is slightly messy, free from its usual styling, and you resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers through it.

"True," he agrees, then glances at his phone on the coffee table. "Speaking of events, I can't believe it's already December. Christmas is going to be here before we know it. Guess time flies when you're busy winning championships."

Your heart skips a beat. This is the opening you've been waiting for. You've been thinking about this for weeks, planning how to bring it up. "Actually… I wanted to ask you something about Christmas," you start, sitting up slightly to face him better.

Max's blue eyes meet yours, curious. "What's on your mind?"

"Well…" you bite your lip, suddenly feeling nervous despite knowing there's no reason to be. "I was wondering if you'd want to spend Christmas with me and my family this year? I know we've kept things private, but I really want them to meet you, and-"

"Wait, really?" Max interrupts, his whole face lighting up with that boyish excitement that made you fall for him in the first place. "You want me to meet your family?"

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Of course I do. We've been together almost a year now, and they keep asking why I'm always smiling at my phone." You playfully poke his side. "Which is your fault, by the way."

He catches your hand, intertwining your fingers. "My fault? I'm just being my naturally charming self," he grins, then his expression turns slightly more serious. "But are you sure? I mean, won't they be surprised when you show up with, well…"

"With a four-time World Champion?" you finish for him, laughing. "Actually, my dad might pass out. He's been watching F1 since before I was born. He has no idea I've been dating his favorite driver."

Max's eyebrows shoot up. "I'm his favorite driver?"

"Don't let it go to your head," you warn playfully. "But yeah, he's got your merchandise and everything. It's actually kind of embarrassing how much he talks about you during race weekends."

Max throws his head back laughing, and you can't help but join in. "Oh God, this is going to be interesting," he says, wiping at his eyes. "What about the rest of your family?"

"Well, Mom will probably try to feed you until you burst - she's like that with everyone. And my little sister Ruby, she's seven and she's going to have so many questions. She's in that phase where she wants to know everything about everything."

"I can handle questions," Max says confidently, then hesitates. "What kind of questions are we talking about?"

You pretend to think about it. "Oh, you know, probably things like 'How fast have you ever driven?' 'Have you ever crashed?' 'Do you want to marry my sister?'"

Max nearly chokes on air at the last one, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "You're joking, right?"

"About Ruby? Nope, she has absolutely no filter," you laugh, then soften your voice. "But seriously, they're going to love you. Just be yourself - the you I know, not the racing driver everyone else sees."

He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'd love to spend Christmas with your family. I can't wait to meet them." He pauses, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Should I wear my race suit when I meet your dad?"

You swat his arm, laughing. "Don't you dare! He'll actually faint." You settle back against his chest, feeling warm and content. "Thank you for saying yes. It means a lot to me."

"Thank you for asking me," he murmurs into your hair. "I love you."

"I love you too," you respond, smiling as his arms tighten around you. The documentary continues playing, forgotten again as you both start planning for Christmas, trading ideas and jokes about how to break the news to your family.

You're sitting cross-legged on Max's bed while he's in the shower, your phone propped up against a pillow as you FaceTime your family. Your mom's face fills most of the screen, with your dad peering over her shoulder and little Ruby bouncing around trying to get a better view.

"Honey, we can barely see you. The lighting is terrible," your mom critiques, and you adjust your position slightly.

"Better?"

"Much better! Now, what's this important thing you wanted to tell us about Christmas?" Your mom asks, while Ruby shouts "Is it presents?" in the background.

You take a deep breath, trying to contain your smile. "Well, I wanted to let you know that I'm bringing someone with me this year… my boyfriend."

There's an immediate explosion of excitement. Ruby starts jumping up and down, your mom gasps dramatically, and your dad's eyebrows shoot up with interest.

"Finally!" your mom exclaims. "We've been wondering when you'd introduce him. You've been so secretive about this boyfriend of yours."

"What's his name?" Ruby pipes up, her face suddenly taking up half the screen as she pushes closer to the camera. "Is he nice? Does he like Disney movies?"

You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, Rubes, he's very nice. And his name is…" you pause, knowing what's coming. "Max. Max Verstappen."

There's a moment of silence before your dad bursts out laughing. "Good one, sweetheart. Now, what's his real name?"

"I'm serious, Dad. I'm dating Max Verstappen."

Your mom is trying to hold back her laughter now too. "Honey, isn't that the racing driver you and your father are always watching? The one your dad has all those caps and shirts of?"

"Yes, and I'm actually dating him," you insist, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Ruby's face scrunches up in confusion. "The fast car man? From TV?"

"The very same one, Rubes."

Your dad wipes tears from his eyes. "Come on now, what's next? Are you going to tell us you're best friends with Lewis Hamilton too?"

"Dad!" you groan, running a hand over your face. "I'm being serious! We've been dating for almost a year. I'm literally at his place right now!"

"In Monaco?" your dad asks skeptically. "Prove it."

You swing your phone around to show the familiar view of Monaco through the windows, but your dad just shakes his head. "Could be any apartment in Monaco."

"You're impossible!" you huff. "Fine, don't believe me. You'll see at Christmas."

Ruby presses her face closer to the screen again. "Will he bring his race car?"

"No, Rubes, he can't bring the race car," you say, softening your tone for your little sister. "But I promise you'll love him."

After a few more minutes of your family teasing you about your "imaginary Formula 1 driver boyfriend," you end the call with a mix of frustration and amusement. Just as you flop back onto the bed, you hear the bathroom door open and Max walks out, his hair still damp from the shower.

"How'd it go?" he asks, noticing your expression.

You let out a laugh. "They think I'm making you up. They literally don't believe I'm dating you."

Max raises his eyebrows, looking amused as he sits next to you on the bed. "Really?"

"Really. Dad laughed so hard he nearly cried. And Ruby, my little sister, just wants to know if you're bringing your race car for Christmas."

"Sorry to disappoint Ruby," he grins, then looks thoughtful. "You know, maybe we should've waited to tell them in person. The looks on their faces would've been priceless."

"Oh, don't worry," you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck. "They'll still be priceless. Dad's going to lose it when he realizes all those times he was rambling about you during races, he was actually talking about his daughter's boyfriend."

Max laughs, pulling you closer. "What else should I know before meeting them?"

"Well, Ruby's seven and obsessed with Frozen. She'll definitely make you watch it and probably sing along too."

"I can handle that," he says confidently.

"And recite all the lines?"

"…Maybe not that."

"And act out the scenes with her?"

Max's eyes widen slightly. "What have I gotten myself into?"

You kiss his cheek. "Too late to back out now, Verstappen. You're stuck with us."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he murmurs, pulling you in for a proper kiss. "Even if it means playing Olaf the snowman."

"Oh no, you'll definitely be playing Elsa. Ruby's very particular about casting."

The look of horror on his face makes you burst out laughing, and soon he's joining in too. As your laughter dies down, you can't help but think about how perfect this feels - being here with him, planning to spend Christmas with your family, even if they don't believe you yet. You can't wait to see their faces when you show up at their door with Max Verstappen himself.

"Hey," Max says softly, breaking into your thoughts. "What are you smiling about?"

"Just thinking about how Christmas is going to be interesting this year."

"Interesting is one way to put it," he grins. "Should I wear my race suit when we arrive?"

"Don't you dare! Dad will actually faint."

"That's kind of the point," he winks, and you grab a pillow to hit him with, both of you dissolving into laughter again.

"Let me guess, another text from 'Max Verstappen'?" your dad teases from his spot at the kitchen counter, making air quotes with his fingers. He's wearing one of his many Red Bull Racing shirts, completely oblivious to the irony.

"Actually, yes," you reply, rolling your eyes. "He'll be here soon."

Your mom chuckles while peeling potatoes. "Honey, you can just tell us who your boyfriend really is. We won't judge, even if he's not a Formula 1 champion."

"Mom, I've told you a million times-"

"LOOK!" Ruby crashes into the kitchen, pointing at the TV in the living room where they're showing highlights from the last race. "It's YN's boyfriend!" She dissolves into giggles, clearly in on what she thinks is a funny joke.

"Very funny, Rubes," you mutter, but check your phone again when it buzzes.

Max: "Just turned onto your street. Nice neighborhood 😉"

Your heart starts beating faster. "He's here," you announce, heading toward the front door.

"Oh, we're still doing this?" your dad calls after you, amused. "Should I get my Max Verstappen cap for him to sign?"

"Actually, Dad, yes, you should," you shout back, slipping on your boots.

"Sweetie," your mom starts in that gentle voice she uses when she thinks you're being ridiculous, "you don't have to-"

The sound of a car pulling up interrupts her. You open the front door and step out onto the porch, watching as Max's car comes to a stop in your driveway. Your family has crowded behind you in the doorway, probably expecting to catch you in your "lie."

Max steps out of the car, looking unfairly handsome in his dark winter coat and scarf. His face lights up when he sees you, and you don't hesitate to run down the steps toward him.

"Hi," he grins, catching you in a tight hug and lifting you slightly off your feet. "Missed you."

You hear a loud gasp behind you, followed by what sounds like your dad choking on air.

"Missed you too," you murmur against his chest before turning to face your family, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist.

The scene on your front porch is priceless. Your dad's mouth is hanging open, his face pale except for two bright red spots on his cheeks. Your mom has both hands pressed to her face in shock. Ruby is the only one moving, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"IT REALLY IS THE FAST CAR MAN!" she shrieks, breaking the silence as she barrels down the steps toward you both.

Max laughs, crouching down to her level. "Hi Ruby. Nice to finally meet you. Your sister has told me a lot about you."

"You're real!" she exclaims, poking his arm as if to make sure.

"Very real," he confirms, looking thoroughly amused.

"I… you… but…" your dad stammers, still frozen in the doorway.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. LN," Max says, standing back up and guiding you and Ruby toward the porch. "Thank you for having me for Christmas."

Your mom seems to snap out of her shock first. "Oh my goodness, please come in! It's freezing out here. I… oh dear… the potatoes… I should… more food… I need to…"

"Mom, breathe," you laugh, as Max follows you inside.

Your dad hasn't moved an inch, still staring at Max like he's seeing a ghost. "You're… you're actually… the Brazil overtake…"

"Dad, no F1 talk yet!" you warn. "Let him at least get his coat off first."

"Right! Yes! Coat!" your dad says frantically. "I'll take your coat! And then maybe… could you… would you mind signing my…"

"Collection?" you finish for him, smirking. "The one you thought I was making up?"

Max raises his eyebrows at you, remembering your conversation about your dad's merchandise collection.

Ruby tugs on Max's hand. "Do you want to see my Frozen dolls? And can we watch the movie? Sissy said you've never seen it!"

"Ruby, let him settle in first," your mom calls from the kitchen, where she appears to be panic-cooking. "Oh God, is the food good enough? Do Formula 1 drivers have special diets? Should I-"

"Mom, the food will be perfect," you assure her, then turn to Max. "See? I told you they'd be cool about it."

Max tries to suppress his laugh as your dad continues to stare at him in awe, your mom stress-cooks enough food to feed an army, and Ruby continues pulling on his hand.

"Very cool," he agrees, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Though I think your dad might need to sit down."

"I'm fine!" your dad squeaks, then immediately sits down heavily on the nearest chair. "Just… just give me a minute to process that my daughter is actually dating Max Verstappen and I've been accidentally talking about my future son-in-law during every race and-"

"DAD!" you exclaim, feeling your face heat up while Max chuckles beside you.

"What? I'm just saying… all those times I said 'that Verstappen boy would make someone a good husband someday' and it turns out-"

"Okay!" you interrupt loudly. "Who wants coffee? Max, come help me with coffee!"

As you drag a laughing Max toward the kitchen, you hear Ruby start explaining the entire plot of Frozen to him, your mom muttering about needing to buy more food, and your dad still talking to himself about racing statistics.

"Still think this was a good idea?" you whisper to Max.

He pulls you closer, grinning. "The best. Though you might want to tell your dad to breathe before he passes out."

"Can we build a snowman after coffee?" Ruby calls out.

"Only if Max gets to be Elsa!" you shout back, earning you a playful glare from your boyfriend.

Looking around at your slightly chaotic but loving family, and seeing how naturally Max fits into it all, you can't help but smile. This is definitely going to be a Christmas to remember.

The initial chaos has settled into a cozy scene in your living room. You're curled up on the couch next to Max, who has Ruby practically attached to his side. She hasn't stopped talking since everyone sat down, and Max, to his credit, is giving her his complete attention.

"And then Elsa makes this huge ice castle," Ruby explains, using elaborate hand gestures. "Can you drive as fast as Elsa runs up the mountain?"

"Probably faster," Max answers with a grin, making Ruby's eyes widen.

"Even in the snow?"

"Even in the snow."

Your dad, who's finally regained his ability to form complete sentences, sits in his armchair trying very hard not to bombard Max with racing questions. He keeps opening his mouth, then closing it again when you give him a warning look.

"It's okay, Dad," you laugh. "You can ask him one race question. Just one."

Your dad looks like he might cry from happiness. "The overtake in Brazil-"

"Which one?" Max asks with a playful smirk, and your dad launches into an enthusiastic discussion about racing lines and grip levels.

Your mom returns from the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolate and cookies, having finally accepted that she doesn't need to cook enough food for an entire F1 paddock. "Here we go. I hope it's okay, Max. YN mentioned you like hot chocolate."

"It's perfect, thank you," Max says warmly, accepting a mug.

Ruby immediately reaches for a cookie, then pauses. "Do race car drivers eat cookies?"

"Only the fast ones," Max whispers conspiratorially, making her giggle.

"Ruby, give Max some space to breathe," your mom says gently, noticing how your sister is practically in his lap.

"It's fine," Max assures her. "I have nephews. I'm used to it."

Ruby beams at this information. "Really? Do they like Frozen too?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure they'd love to hear your explanation of it," he says, and Ruby launches into another detailed plot summary.

You catch your mom watching the interaction with soft eyes, all her earlier panic forgotten. She meets your gaze and mouths 'He's wonderful' when Ruby isn't looking.

Your dad has moved on from Brazil to discussing tire strategies, but stops himself mid-sentence. "Sorry, I'm probably boring you. You live this stuff."

"Not at all," Max says sincerely. "It's nice talking about it with someone who understands racing. YN usually just tells me to stop being a nerd when I talk about tire compounds."

"Because you spent two hours explaining the difference between C3 and C4 compounds!" you defend yourself.

"It's fascinating stuff," your dad says eagerly, and Max nods in agreement.

"Oh no, there's two of them now," you mutter to your mom, who laughs.

Ruby tugs on Max's sleeve. "Can we watch Frozen now? Please? You promised!"

"Ruby, let Max rest a bit," your mom starts, but Max shakes his head.

"A promise is a promise," he says solemnly to Ruby. "Should we watch it now?"

Ruby squeals with delight, jumping up to get the remote. Your dad looks slightly disappointed that his racing talk is being cut short, but you can see him hiding a smile at Ruby's excitement.

"Fair warning," you whisper to Max as Ruby sets up the movie, "she knows every word. And she will sing along."

"As long as she doesn't expect me to sing," he whispers back.

"MAX!" Ruby calls, patting the spot next to her on the floor where she's arranged pillows. "You have to sit here! It's the best spot!"

Max obliges, settling down next to her while you stay on the couch, exchanging amused looks with your parents as Ruby starts the movie, already mouthing along to the opening music.

Your mom leans over to you. "I'm sorry we didn't believe you," she whispers. "He's lovely. And so good with Ruby."

"I told you," you whisper back, watching as Ruby explains to Max why Elsa has ice powers.

Your dad joins in the whispered conversation. "Think he'd sign my mug collection later?"

"Dad!"

"What? I'm just saying, Christmas cards would be sorted for the next few years…"

You're about to respond when Ruby shushes you all loudly. "This is the best part!"

Max catches your eye and winks, clearly enjoying himself despite being roped into a Disney movie viewing with a very enthusiastic seven-year-old commentator. Your heart swells watching him with your family, how naturally he fits in, how gentle he is with Ruby.

"Do you want to build a snowman?" Ruby starts singing along with the movie.

"Later, Rubes," you promise. "Let's watch the movie first."

She nods seriously, then turns to Max. "Pay attention to this part. It's very important."

"I won't miss a second," he promises, and Ruby beams at him before turning back to the screen.

Your mom reaches over and squeezes your hand, giving you a knowing look. Even your dad has stopped thinking about racing long enough to appreciate the moment – his youngest daughter sharing her favorite movie with your boyfriend, who happens to be the F1 driver he's been fan-boying over for years.

It's perfect, you think, watching your family and Max together. Different from how you imagined telling them, but perfect nonetheless.

"Shh!" Ruby whispers loudly. "Elsa is about to sing Let It Go!"

Max shoots you a slightly panicked look as Ruby starts to stand up, clearly ready to perform the whole number. You just grin and shrug. After all, you did warn him about the singing.

Later that evening, you finally manage to steal a moment alone with Max. Ruby had fallen asleep during the third replay of Frozen, and your parents took her up to bed before retreating to the kitchen to finish some Christmas preparations.

You find Max on the back porch, leaning against the railing and looking up at the stars. The winter air is crisp, and you can see his breath forming little clouds in the darkness. Quietly, you step out and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back.

"Hey," he says softly, turning in your arms to face you. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Needed a little break from being Elsa?"

You laugh quietly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "You were amazing with Ruby today. I think you're officially her new favorite person."

"She's a sweet kid," he smiles, then adds with a playful glint in his eyes, "Though I didn't expect to watch Frozen two times in one day."

"Just wait until tomorrow. She'll probably want to act it out."

He groans dramatically, but you can see the fondness in his expression. "The things I do for you."

"Mmm, and I appreciate every one of them," you murmur, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly.

Max responds immediately, one hand moving to cup your face while the other pulls you even closer. The kiss is gentle and unhurried, full of unspoken emotions. When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"For what?"

"For being so perfect with my family. For watching Frozen multiple times. For not running away when my dad started his racing commentary."

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I like your family. Your dad's racing knowledge is impressive, your mom's trying very hard not to mother me to death, and Ruby…" he pauses, smiling. "Ruby reminds me of Victoria at that age."

You snuggle closer, seeking his warmth in the cold air. "I was so nervous about telling them, and then even more nervous when they didn't believe me. But this… this is better than I imagined."

"Even with your dad asking me to sign his entire Red Bull merchandise collection?"

"Hey, at least he waited until after dinner," you laugh. "Though I'm pretty sure he's in there right now planning which items to bring out first."

Max wraps his arms more securely around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love you," he says quietly, and your heart skips a beat like it does every time he says those words.

"I love you too," you reply, tilting your face up for another kiss.

This one is deeper, more passionate, until you hear the back door creak and quickly step apart.

"Oh!" your mom exclaims, looking flustered. "Sorry, I just… wanted to ask about breakfast preferences… but it can wait… carry on!"

She disappears back inside, and you both burst into quiet laughter.

"We should probably go back in," you sigh, though you make no move to leave his embrace.

"Probably," he agrees, but instead of letting go, he pulls you back for one more kiss. "Five more minutes?"

You smile against his lips. "Five more minutes."

In the quiet of Christmas eve, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but think how perfectly he fits into your life, into your family, into your heart. Tomorrow there'll be more Frozen, more racing talk, more of Ruby's endless questions, but right now, it's just the two of you, and it's everything.

The winter sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains of your childhood bedroom, casting a soft golden glow across the room. You're wrapped in warmth, nestled against Max's chest with his arm draped around your waist. His steady breathing tells you he's awake before he even moves.

"Good morning," he murmurs against your neck, his voice still rough with sleep. His lips brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Morning," you whisper back, feeling his hand slowly slide beneath your sleep shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

"Sleep well?" he asks innocently, but his actions are anything but innocent as he presses closer, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your ear.

"Max," you breathe, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and knowing you should stop. "We can't… my parents…"

"Then we'll have to be very, very quiet," he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. His hand travels higher under your shirt, making your breath hitch.

You turn in his arms, ready to either give in or properly protest - though the way he's looking at you, eyes dark with desire and that signature smirk playing on his lips, makes you lean heavily toward the former.

"You're trouble," you murmur, reaching up to run your fingers through his disheveled hair.

He leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "You love it."

Just as his hand starts to wander again, a voice pierces through the quiet morning:

"IT'S CHRISTMAAAAS!" Ruby's excited scream echoes through the entire house, followed by the thundering of small feet running down the hallway. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! SANTA CAME!"

Max drops his forehead to your shoulder with a frustrated groan. "Your sister has impeccable timing."

"Welcome to Christmas with Ruby," you laugh, pressing a consoling kiss to his cheek. "I tried to warn you."

"YN! MAX!" Ruby's fists pound on your door. "GET UP! There are presents EVERYWHERE! And it SNOWED!"

"Five more minutes, Rubes!" you call back.

"NO MINUTES! NOW!" she insists, continuing to knock. "Mom said breakfast is ready and Dad made hot chocolate and I SAW A HUGE PRESENT WITH MY NAME ON IT!"

Max chuckles against your shoulder. "I suppose we should…"

"PLEASE!" Ruby calls again. "I promise I'll let you drink your coffee first!"

"That's quite the offer from her," you tell Max. "She usually doesn't allow any delays on Christmas morning."

"We're coming, Ruby!" Max calls out, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "Give us two minutes to get dressed."

"TWO MINUTES! I'm counting!"

You can hear her dramatically counting down in the hallway, making Max laugh. "She's serious about this, isn't she?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

The living room is a festival of color and chaos when you finally make it downstairs. Ruby's bouncing by the tree in her Christmas pajamas, while your parents are settled on the couch with steaming mugs of coffee.

"Finally!" Ruby exclaims. "I counted way past two minutes!"

"Sorry, princess," Max says, accepting a coffee mug from your mom. "But I'm here now."

"Max, sweetheart, you really didn't have to get us anything," your mom says, noticing the pile of presents he'd arranged under the tree last night.

"Of course I did," he replies warmly. "It's Christmas."

Ruby's practically vibrating with excitement as your dad starts distributing gifts. "Can I open mine from Max first? Please?"

At your nod, she tears into the elaborate wrapping paper, gasping when she reveals a beautiful wooden chest with golden details. "It's like a treasure chest!"

"Open it," Max encourages, smiling.

Ruby lifts the lid carefully, her eyes widening. Inside is a complete collection of princess dresses, each one a perfect replica from different Disney movies, along with matching accessories and a tiara for each one.

"The chest is magical," Max explains, kneeling beside her. "Every time you open it, there might be a new surprise inside. And look at this…" He reaches in and pulls out a small envelope.

Ruby opens it to find a letter with the Disney castle letterhead. "Dear Princess Ruby," she reads aloud, her voice getting more excited with each word. "You are cordially invited to spend a royal weekend at Disney World, where you will have a private breakfast with all the Disney princesses…"

She doesn't even finish reading before launching herself at Max, nearly knocking him over. "Thank you thank you thank you! Can I try on the Elsa dress right now?"

"After presents," your mom laughs. "Let's see what else Santa brought."

Your dad opens his gift next, finding an envelope that makes him pause. "Son," he says, voice thick with emotion as he reads the contents. "This is…"

"VIP passes to the British Grand Prix," Max confirms. "Including garage access, grid walk, everything."

Your dad has to sit down, clutching the passes like they might disappear. "This is… I can't…"

"And this," Max hands him another package, "is just a little something extra."

Inside is a vintage racing jacket from your dad's favorite driver from the 80s, signed and authenticated. Your dad actually tears up.

Your mom opens her gift next, despite protesting again that Max shouldn't have gotten them anything. She unwraps a beautiful pair of earrings.

"Oh, Max," she whispers, "This is beautiful."

Ruby, who has been surprisingly patient, tugs at Max's sleeve. "Can we do my princess breakfast now?"

"After we finish presents," you laugh. "And maybe we should have real breakfast first?"

"But I'm a princess now," she declares. "Princesses have special breakfast times."

Your mom shakes her head fondly. "How about pancakes fit for a princess?"

"With chocolate chips?" Ruby negotiates.

"With chocolate chips," your mom confirms. "Max, honey, how do you like your pancakes?"

"However they're made is perfect," he assures her, but your mom is already heading to the kitchen, muttering about making sure she has enough chocolate chips.

Your dad finally finds his voice again. "Max, this is too much…"

"It's not," Max says firmly. "You're… you're family now. Or at least, I hope…"

He glances at you meaningfully, making your heart skip a beat.

Later, after pancakes and multiple princess dress changes from Ruby, you manage to steal some time alone with Max in your favorite spot on the back porch. The morning sun has warmed the air slightly, but there's still a crisp winter chill that gives you an excuse to stay close to him.

"Your turn," Max says softly, pulling out a small wrapped box from his pocket.

Your hands tremble slightly as you unwrap it, revealing a velvet jewelry box. Inside is a delicate silver necklace with two intertwined pendants - a heart and a tiny racing helmet.

"Max," you breathe, touching the pendants gently. "It's beautiful."

"Look at the back," he says quietly, his voice carrying a note of nervousness you rarely hear.

You turn the heart over to find an engraving: "You're my biggest victory. -MV"

"I love you," you whisper, pulling him down for a kiss. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if you're the most precious thing in his world.

When you finally part, you hand him your gift - a wrapped box that makes him raise his eyebrows at the weight.

Inside, he finds a handmade scrapbook filled with your personal moments - sneaky paddock kisses, quiet mornings at home, victory celebrations, and candid moments no one else has seen. The final page holds a photo from yesterday - Max on the floor with Ruby, both laughing during their third viewing of Frozen.

"This is…" he starts, voice thick with emotion.

"Wait," you say softly, reaching into your pocket. You pull out a key on a simple keychain. "I thought… maybe… if you wanted…"

"Move in with you?" he finishes, breaking into that brilliant smile that never fails to make your heart race. "Yes. Absolutely yes."

He pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other holds the key carefully.

"MAX!" Ruby's voice carries from inside. "I need help with my Cinderella shoes! And then we have to build a snowman! A FROZEN snowman!"

You both laugh against each other's lips.

"Duty calls, Elsa," you tease.

"Only if you'll be my Olaf," he grins, pressing one more quick kiss to your lips.

"Always," you promise, letting him lead you back inside where Ruby waits, already changed into her third princess dress of the morning.

Your dad catches your eye as you pass, "If you don't marry this boy," he whispers, "I will."

"Dad!"

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, then heads outside to join the snowman-building committee.

Your mom appears at your other side, wrapping an arm around you. "He's right, you know. He's perfect for you."

You lean your head on her shoulder, watching Max let Ruby direct him on where to place the snowman's arms. "I know," you smile. "I know."

"Best Christmas ever?" she asks softly.

Looking at your family, and Max in the middle of it all, belonging there like he's always been part of it - you smile.

"Best Christmas ever," you agree.

[teddy06writes]

Tired...

Alfie Solomons x gn!autistic!reader

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, me struggling to describe my headspace accurately

Summary: You're not having a great day. Alfie does his best to remedy this.

{This is so incredibly self indulgent its not even funny}

{Also send alfie requests?}

"Treacle I'm home! Where are you love?"

It took two tries before your mouth caught up to your mind and you were able to call out, "'m in the den."

You could hear his footsteps drawing closer, with Cyril's plodding alongside him. Alfie took one look at you, lying out on the floor in front of the sofa, and knew that something wasn't right.

"What's going on my dove?"

"I-" Your voice faltered, and you craned your neck to look up at him, desperately searching for some answer you could give him without saying 'everything'.

"That's alright, you just take your time, eh lovey?"

Cyril padded over to you, sniffing at your outstretched hand for a moment before settling down beside you. You ran a hand over his fur letting out a saddened sigh.

Alfie moved over to the sofa, plopping down with a grunt, "'scuse me, for not joining you, treacle. 'S just with me sciatica I might not be able to get back up again."

With your free hand, you reached up, grabbing for his hand. He gave it to you easily, running the rough pad of his thumb over your knuckles.

You stayed there for a few long minutes, staring up at the nothingness of the ceiling and trying to arrange your thoughts into something coherent enough to share with your husband.

Eventually, you clambered up onto the couch, tucking yourself under Alfie's arm. He squeezed you tightly against his side, pressing his lips to your hair for a long moment, waiting patiently.

"I just- I feel so slow today... like I have to build up every thought letter by letter. And I couldn't get any of my work done cause I'm so tired.... and and my brain doesn't work right cause I know it's all my head but I can't get it to go away-"

"Now hang on one second, petal," Alfie said, interrupting your rambling, "Your brain is not wrong."

"But it doesn't work right!"

Alfie shook his head vehemently, "No, no, no, it just works different- and that ain't your fault treacle, eh? It's just them fucking worms fault, yeah?"

You let out a huff, thinking back on the conversation you'd had with Alfie so long ago now, where you explained that sometimes it felt like there was something else in your head, poking around and making you think differently. He'd taken the metaphor and ran with it.

"I'm just tired of it- of all of it," You let out a sigh, trying to worm your way further into his side, "'s like the only thoughts I don't have to work for are the ones that are making me feel worse..."

"Listen to me, petal," Alfie said, threading his fingers with yours, and squeezing your hand to invite you to do the same, "All them lies those bloody worms are tellin' you, just ain't true. Right? So listen up you in there, you fuckin hitch hikers, you stop tellin' my boy your fuckin lies or I'll- I dunno, evict your sorry asses. yeah?"

You let out a huff of a chuckle, "Alf..."

You could practically feel him beaming into your hair, proud of himself, "Right, i think they got the message, don't you love?"

"Loud and clear." You nuzzled into him once more, giving his hand three rapid squeezes.

Alfie pressed his lips to your hair one more time, "I love you too, treacle."

~~~~

Enjoy this fic? Support me on kofi :)

[sarahscribbles]

𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐕𝐀!𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟗𝐤

𝐀𝐍: 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲.

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You hear the sharp sound of Loki’s footsteps on the atrium floor roughly twenty minutes after slipping the note undetected into his coat pocket. 

“You’re too chicken to fuck me in public,” you had scrawled across the yellow TVA issued notepaper, feeling a heat begin to form between your thighs with each stroke of your pen. 

Was he too chicken, though? You aren’t sure what you and Loki are exactly, but heaven help you you’re enjoying the secret trysts in broom cupboards and bathrooms. It’s what spawned the idea to write him the note - the fact that all your hook ups have been in secret away from prying eyes. 

It was meant to do nothing but tease him, to poke the proverbial bear, but with how quickly and forcefully his footsteps are approaching from behind, you fear you may have flown too close to the sun.

Your heart begins to thump wildly in your chest with each step he takes, and you lose track of what the analysts huddled around you are discussing. Vaguely, you catch snippets of their concern over yet another variant causing havoc on the Sacred Timeline, but their voices fade to a faint drone when the familiar scent of cinnamon and patchouli wraps around you. 

Each quiet inhale of his scent sends an addictive giddiness zipping through your veins. You imagine him slipping his hands in his pockets and feeling the sharp edges of the note - had he just stepped through the Time Door on another assignment with Mobius? Or had he only found it while they were already in the field? How long has he been stewing over that single, teasing sentence and assembling, to him, a suitable consequence?

It has you fighting not to squeeze your thighs together where you stand.

“Terribly sorry!” That familiar, smooth voice rolls over you only seconds later, and you feel two firm hands grip your shoulders. “I’m afraid I have a very pressing issue that requires one of the best minds in the TVA! I’ll have her back in a jiffy!”

Before you can even draw breath to object Loki’s fingers are curling possessively around your upper arm. His pace is frantic as he steers you through Chrono Bay Three, so much so that it really does look like the future of the TVA rests on your shoulders. 

You know different, though. 

You know that, beside you, is a man with enough pent up sexual energy to power a small town. 

It’s exhilarating to see what you do to him. From your place at his side, you can see the tense way he’s holding that strong jaw; you can see how his free hand is curled into a half fist, and you can feel the flex of his fingers through the material of your shirt like he’s itching to get his hands on your bare skin. 

Again. 

“So, what’s this pressing issue that requires my brilliant mind?” you tease him as he continues to pull you through the deserted atrium. “Are the threads of time disintegrating as we speak? Has Miss Minutes gone rogue?” 

You swear that the corner of his mouth quirks, just a little bit, and, for a second, all you want to do is make him laugh. 

Loki’s pace doesn’t falter even for a second as he keeps weaving you both through the intricate halls of the TVA, but he turns briefly to flash you that devilish grin. “Do you really wish to do this, darling? After that little stunt you just pulled?”

Something lurches to life in your stomach, but you forcibly will it down. This is all just a little bit of fun, really. A little bit of excitement in the otherwise boring days of being an analyst. What better way to liven things up than with this man with those beautiful green eyes and the…

No.

Not this time. 

You’re, ironically, saved from any further traitorous thoughts by the very subject of them. Loki comes to an almost comical stop beside that ridiculous “minimise chat in the cafeteria please” sign that’s become a favoured inside joke between you and Mobius, in large part due to the weary sigh it garners from Loki. He throws a casual glance at the handful of other agents milling around - none of whom seem remotely interested in either of you - and yanks you through a door with a sign that reads “Authorised Personnel Only.”

Although the corridor he’s pulled you into looks just like every other corridor in the labyrinth of the TVA, you recognise this as one you’re not overly familiar with. Does this one lead to Repairs and Advancement? Or is this the shorter route to the Automat? You aren’t sure. 

What you are sure of is that it isn’t very wide. 

You turn to face Loki as the door snaps shut. Even under the harsh yellow lights running overhead, he still manages to look every inch the handsome god that he is. It’s both infuriating and exhilarating. 

“A stunt?” you whisper with feigned disbelief. “Who would dare to try the God of Mischief?”

Loki takes two steps to the side so he’s standing directly in front of you at what counts as the “other side” of the corridor. One hand is deep in his trouser pocket while the other rises from his side. Between two elegant fingers sits your little note. “Care to explain?”

An impish smile curls across your face in tandem with your heart beginning to thump wildly in your chest. “Oh, that! I meant to slip that to the new Minuteman this morning. You know, the tall one with the blonde hair? Whoops.”

The god in front of you doesn’t smile. Instead, he inhales slowly, deeply, and locks those hypnotising green eyes with yours. “I thought we had addressed this little issue last week? Do I need to put you over my knee again?”

You swallow silently and make a valent effort to ignore the heat that’s rising to a crescendo between your thighs. The last time Loki had held you over his knee you hadn’t been able to sit comfortably for three days. It hadn’t been the first time and you pray it won’t be the last. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Your Highness.” You smirk at him, knowing how much he loves this.

The quirk of his lip is barely perceptible, blink and you would have missed it. He takes two silent steps forward, closing the remaining distance until he’s looming over you. He’s so deliciously close that you could easily get drunk on the scent of him and on the mix of mischief, desire and lust that’s swirling in those pretty green eyes. 

A lavender haze of raw arousal has settled around you like a blanket, twisting tighter and tighter with each second Loki stays silent. His lips are quirked in a half smirk that makes you desperate to know what’s going on in that devilish mind of his, to know what concoction of pleasure and pain he’s cooked up to make you pay for your brattiness. 

It’s foolish, though, to think you’ll ever be able to guess his next move. 

You become overly aware of the wall at your back when he reaches out a thumb and forefinger to grip your chin. It’s a soft touch, but there’s no denying the jolt of electricity that rushes through every vein and pore. 

Because that’s what Loki is; he’s electrifying. 

“On your knees, Agent. Now.” His voice rolls over you low and smooth, but there’s a clear undertone of dominance flowing beneath each word. 

A thrill of excitement shoots along your spine, but it leaves something else in its wake. Something that feels oddly like nerves. 

“Here?” you question him, turning panicked eyes to the rows of doors lining both sides of the corridors. “But…Loki, there are people here!”

Loki answers you with a raising of his brow. “Oh, I do beg your pardon. Perhaps you’re too chicken to be fucked in public?” He throws your own taunt back at you. 

Something in you bristles and you curse your nervous outburst. He has quite enough to hold over your head. “You wish. I do this all the time,” you lie. 

His face is impossible to read. “Then why am I waiting? On your knees.” 

He expects you to obey and the threat of what will happen if you don’t hangs heavily in the air. Normally, you’d want to keep pushing his buttons to see just how far you could push him, your ass be damned, but you’re so completely under his spell that you fall to your knees after only half a second of defiance. 

A satisfied smirk curls across Loki’s face. “There. See how much easier it is when you obey, sweet girl?” he purrs, using those sinfully long fingers to tuck some hair behind your ears. 

“Don’t get used to it,” you shoot back before you can help yourself. 

Loki’s answering laughter is short but genuine. “I wouldn’t be so foolish.” 

His hand curling around your skull is a sign that the talking is over. He holds you there firmly in place while his other hand works at the belt and zipper of his trousers. In several seamless movements, he frees himself from the black boxers he’s wearing underneath, and you feel the slightest pressure on the back of your head as he pushes it forward.

“Open,” Loki orders, curling a hand around his cock and guiding it to your lips. 

They part obediently and he wastes no time in feeding you his cock inch by inch. It’s becoming familiar to you now - the taste of him on your tongue and the musky scent that quickly wraps around you - and yoi’ve done this enough times before to know how much he loves when you run the tip of your tongue along the underside of his cock. 

As expected, you’re rewarded with a soft moan and the feel of his fingers flexing in your hair. It only serves to embolden you. 

Loki’s eyes drift closed as he savours the warm wetness of your mouth around him, and you take the opportunity to take as much of him as you can into your mouth, refusing to stop until the tip of his cock slips down your throat. With teary eyes you hold it as long as you can until you feel your throat start to convulse with the need for air. Only then do you pull back off him until just the tip rests between your lips. 

“Fuck! You divine creature!” Loki rasps out, curling his hand even tighter in your hair. “Keep going! That’s my good girl.” 

You eagerly obey. 

Ignoring the ache that’s beginning in your knees and the quiet hum of voices from behind several of the doors, you focus your attention solely on getting this man off. You do everything that you know he loves - you swirl your tongue hungrily around his tip and lick the aching length of him until his hand flies out to slam into the wall with a groan. 

“Faster !” he grunts, and when you peer up at him, you see him slowly coming apart piece by piece. 

That beautiful face is contorted in pleasure and several black curls have fallen haphardly around his shoulders. He’s panting and moaning like a whore, causing your eyes to dart frantically back and forth between him and the doors behind.

But it’s no longer fear that’s pumping through your blood. It’s raw, hot arousal. 

Loki won’t last much longer, but just when you begin to drive him towards release, he pulls his cock free from between your lips.  “Enough,” he says huskily. “On your feet.” 

Shakily, and with Loki’s help, you climb to your feet, but you barely have a second to appreciate the relief before his lips crash against yours. His kiss is hungry and dominating and, at the same time his tongue slips into your mouth, a hand is pulling your leg around his waist and pushing the brown material of your skirt around your hips.

“Tell me you were wrong,” he pants, hot and heavy against your lips. “Say it.”

“I…I was wrong,” you say as his skilled hands make short work of your underwear. 

“Yes. You were,” Loki taunts, “and I’m going to show you just how wrong right here in this corridor.”

One long finger begins to circle your clit at the same time the blunt head of his cock presses against your soaked cunt. You’re aching for him - you have been since the last time he had pulled you into Time Theatre Four - but Loki only slides his cock through your wetness.

“Fucking hell!” you whimper, reaching out to grab his shoulder through the thick material of his pea coat. “Loki, enough. Just fuck me, please!” 

You see a flash of white teeth before he rolls his hips, sinking his cock into you in one smooth thrust. It’s been so long since he’s filled you that a shameless moan slips from your lips before you can stop it and echoes down the empty hallway. 

You snap your mouth closed and look to Loki with panicked eyes, but he only gives you that infuriating smirk. “I hope you can be sufficiently quiet, little mouse. We’re in quite the compromising situation.”

“Fuck you,” you murmur, but press down on his ass with your foot to coax him into moving. 

Loki chuckles and thrusts into you once more, forcing you to bite your cheek to stop from crying out. “You do have such a way with words.”

His fingers stay at your clit as he thrusts his cock into you over and over. It’s enough to send you dizzy and you grip his shoulders for dear life, but it’s impossible not to let them drift into his curls. They’re soft and silken between your fingers - like they always are - and you’re rewarded with the same deep groan when you twist them around your finger and tug. 

It’s something you accidentally discovered that night Loki had taken you on top of one of the desks in the library - he enjoys having his hair pulled. It’s a small slice of knowledge that you filed away, and it only made you eager to discover what other filth this man got off on. 

Loki, it seems, is just as kinky as you are. 

“How is it…that you feel better…every time?” he pants and slams into you with such force that you can’t swallow your cry of pleasure. 

“Just part of my charm,” you answer on a single breath, though it’s a breath that’s quickly lost to you as Loki increases the pressure on your swollen clit. 

He builds you up expertly, and the tiny ripples of pleasure that begin to ripple in your core are like no other. Whatever this thing is between you and Loki, it’s ruined you for anyone else. 

Each thrust of his cock has the edge crest ever closer, and every pant and groan that escapes his lips has you clenching down harder around him. 

But it’s right when you feel the first swells of your orgasm that the scraping of chairs begins behind a door only a few feet away. 

You look to Loki wildly, but the asshole only waggles his eyebrows at you. “I’d say you have about two minutes to cum, Agent,” he whispers wickedly in your ear. 

You whine and tug him closer, willing your orgasm to wash over you before the door opens. You’re too pent up, too desperate to be left dangling on the edge today.

“One minute,” Loki taunts, though it’s questionable if he’ll last that long.

Maybe it’s from how relentlessly he’s fucking you and the gloriously filthy way he’s grunting in your ear, or maybe it’s due to the exhilarating thought of being caught fucking this god in an open corridor, but your orgasm tears through you only seconds later, drowning you in a pleasure so intense that you bury your face in Loki’s shoulder to stop from crying out. 

It’s white hot and steals the breath from your lungs. You feel it from the very tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes. It’s a neverending tsunami that you would happily drown beneath again and again. 

Loki spills inside you moments later, panting your name and cupping your ass to keep you as close to him as physically possible. It’s a release so blinding that it leaves your ears ringing and your heart hammering in your chest, and you’ve barely come down off your high when your leg falls from Loki’s waist back to the ground. 

The afterglow of release settles around you like a pink cloud. Your chest is heaving as you stand boneless against the wall on shaky legs. It’s beyond you how they’re still supporting you in the wake of a climax so powerful that it’s robbed you of your ability to speak or to form a coherent thought. 

Though you aren’t sure if the feeling of relief is from the explosive orgasm he’s just given you or the fact that you managed to reach it before being caught. 

Your eyes drift lazily to Loki. He’s standing before you infuriatingly proud smirk as he tucks himself away and straightens the brown pea coat that you’ve nearly clawed off his shoulders. It only grows when he reaches out to straighten your skirt down just as a door opens several feet down the corridor. 

He takes a few steps backward to begin melting into the small crowd that emerges from within, but not without sticking his hands in his pockets and giving you a filthy wink. “Until next time, Agent.”

[f1amboyant]

Will you by any chance write a carcar fic? 😗 I just recently read your girl!carlos fic and I CANNOT help but imagine CARCAR in that kind of sitation or any situation really but just girl carlos.

I’ve been lurking at ao3 but it is so rare 😔

Hi anon!

First, thank you for reading my latest unhinged fic (girl!carlos x reader truly wasn't on my bingo card of what i would write for 2024 but here we are) 😘

Second, you have put an idea in my head and just 😮‍💨🫠🥵 As I said in the previous ask (the one that inspired that last fic), a character turned into a girl is not usually my fave trope. But girl!carlos?? With Oscar??? Yes??? Why does this work so well?? I can't get it out of my head. This is TOO GOOD. It's going straight to the 'to write' folder.

Please, feel free to share more ideas about this anon! 🧡

And also. Maybe I started writing a little something. A teaser maybe? 🤭

"You're a girl," Oscar deadpanned, arching both eyebrows high on his forehead.

Oscar wasn't sure he imagined the faint blush on Carlos' cheeks (his perfectly shaven cheeks). No, not shaven. Hairless. Smooth.

"No, I'm a man," Carlos protested with a deep frown. "I'm just… You know." He gestured vaguely at his whole body, forcing Oscar to look (as if he wasn't looking already).

Carlos' brows were just as dark and thick as before, his eyes just as wide and brown, his lips just as plush. Why would Oscar notice such details, that was a mystery to him. But he noticed the differences even more. The hairless cheeks unnerved him for no reason. Too slim limbs poked from the too big shirt and oversized shorts. The clothes dwarfed Carlos in a way that was impossible usually and completely irked Oscar's mind, but they bore the characteristic 55, meaning they truly were Carlos' clothes, it was just that Carlos was… Well. He was…

"You're a girl," Oscar repeated because there was no other way to put it.

The clothes also displayed the iconic Ferrari logo and there was no mistaking the swelling curve just underneath it, distorting the sponsors' logo and that little point that… Nope. Not happening. Oscar wasn't going to look at Carlos' chest.

At his breasts.

"You have boobs, mate," Oscar deadpanned, as if it wasn't obvious and as if he just hadn't forced himself not to look. "You're a girl."

"I'm still me," Carlos grumbled, threading his fingers through his hair. Longer hair. Black as always. Falling beautifully under his shoulders.

Beautifully? Really? Get a grip, Osc.

"Like," Carlos continued, searching for the right words he couldn't find. "I'm still me, a man. But just my body is… You know."

Oscar thought hard not to roll his eyes.

"Yeah, okay, sure. Gender and sex are different things," he shrugged. "It doesn't change the fact that this kind of things happen. You're a…"

"Don't say it again," Carlos hissed.

He plopped down on the bed, sitting at the edge of the mattress and crossing his arms and legs. Oscar didn't notice how that made the swell of his breast even more visible through the Ferrari t-shirt and he didn't notice how the already short shorts rode up even higher on Carlos' thigh. Nope. He didn't notice at all. Not at all.

Was it getting hotter in there? And why was he in Carlos' hotel room again? He never should have come in there. No. More importantly, why had Carlos texted him to come over? That didn't make any sense.

"I know it happens and believe it or not, it happened to me before but just," Carlos was saying, looking everywhere but at Oscar. "You don't have to say it. Just. Can you help me?"

Oscar's brain froze.

What?

He heard wrong, right?

Carlos couldn't be asking him what he was asking.

Right?

"Sorry?"

"Can you help me?"

"Why me?" Oscar looked around the room like he would find someone else hiding there and could push that person into Carlos' arms. Anyone else but him. "Why don't you ask Lando?"

The disgust on Carlos' face was telling, no matter what his face looked like at the moment.

"Lando is like a little brother to me. I can't do that with him."

"Charles then," Oscar decided more than he suggested.

Carlos looked back at him with eyes so wide and so still it was almost scary.

"I can't let Charles see me like this."

"Why not?"

And why was Oscar asking truly? Why was he still here? He should have left a long time ago. He should have left when Carlos had opened the door, half hidden in the shadows of the hallway and refused to show his face until he had closed the door securely. He should have left the moment he had laid eyes on Carlos and almost lost all sense of reason.

He shouldn't have come at all.

"Me and Charles, it's… It's complicated. I just can't, okay?"

"Okay."

It wasn't okay.

"You realize what you're asking me, right?" Oscar said, taking a step forward, like it could prove his point. What was his point, again? "Because this?" He gestured to Carlos' body, the body of a woman, no doubt about that. "There's truly only one way I can help you with this. You know that, right?"

Carlos softly bit his lip for a brief second, immediately followed by his tongue wetting the invisible indentation left there. Oscar was looking. He was looking so bad.

"I'm aware," Carlos said.

"And you're still asking me?"

"Yes," Carlos huffed. Like he was asking something so trivial and Oscar was being difficult about it. The nerve of this guy truly. This woman. Man. Whatever. "Stop stalling, Oscar." The r rolled on Carlos' tongue, unusual for Oscar's name. "What do you say?"

Truly, Oscar should have left a long time ago. Truly, he never should have come at all. Because now. Now this was an opportunity he couldn't pass. Now, he was tempted to say…

"Yes."

[yellowocaballero]

I love your moon knight fics so so much — would you ever consider writing more of them? Sorry if you’ve answered this question before.

Also, the way you portray Boba and Fox inspired me to write a fic about the two of them which is not very good but is so in my brain all the time that I have written like 40k words and counting in a week. Twilight On Owl Creek Bridge is such a masterpiece that it has irrevocably changed the way I view Star Wars as a whole. I genuinely could not have cared less about the Clone Wars before reading it, and now it is on my mind 24/7. Boba and Fox are the most tragic characters in the SW universe and nobody can change my mind about it. They both just want to live goddamnit!

On another note, have you watched Thunderbolts? I’m not usually a marvel movie fan but watching that one really hit me in a way I seldom feel except for reading your works. The idea that a group of unambiguously, absurdly fucked up losers are truly the only people that could feasibly make a team of heroes we deserve felt like it just fit so well with all of your marvel stuff.

I will not be writing more Moon Knight stuff! I told all of the stories I wanted to tell, and then some. I did recently post a 60k thing that I should have probably put on the masterpost...here's the post, I'll stick it onto the masterpost. Beyond that, I do have a bunch of unposted stuff lmfao, but none of it is really fit to print. When I first got this ask I poked around my drive a bit to see if I should throw any of it on here...the third story in the MK mens rea trilogy was really ALMOST done, there's the entire Heroes For Hire backstory fic, it's a lot but none of it's really...I might reblog this with some of it, when I have a second.

And I'm SO HAPPY that Fox and Boba live rent-free in your brain because they also live rent free in mineeeee. Fishhooks was a solid little story, but I ended up touching on some concepts that got much, much more fleshed out in the Boba POV story for the No Chip AU. Every time I write Boba I really do just go deeper and deeper into how fucked-up weird that entire situation is. Also Fox. Unfortunately, my takes are very - uh, Meg specific, they're very much a me thing, so it makes me happy to know that the vision is spreading (somebody wrote a Supernatural/SW AU influenced by my Boba and it was FANTASTIC).

Obviously I need to see the fic once it's done. Obviously you have to link me. Obviously. Give me it. It's also very hard on me being the lone cowboy in this town.

I have not seen Thunderbolts, and I wasn't really planning on it! That tracks with the Heroes For Hire thing lmfao - the connecting thread between them is honestly how they were all fucked over and disenfranchised by society (or is Danny), and that feeling is very coherent with them Just Being Guys. Something I liked to do in the best life world was to just imagine superheroes being things other than superheroes, living their lives in their own way - MK as an indentured servant, She-Hulk as both a superhero and an influencer, the HFH as losers who live like college students helping people for very little pay, Dr. Strange working retail, MCU!Peter Parker being his assistant and finding his own path, Ghost Rider doing Doordash. It makes the actual superheroes in the story a lot more purposeful - the Avengers (She-Hulk, Wasp, Monica, Hawkeye, Sam!Cap) are Avengers on purpose, it is a very specific kind of thing that a very specific kind of person does. It creates this rich and robust feeling world and I ended up being very fond of it.

I'll let you know if I do see it, but I wasn't expecting to. I haven't seen an MCU movie innnnn a while (I would say that the last I saw was No Way Home In Literal 2021 but Wikipedia says Wolverine & Deadpool is MCU, which - doesn't feel right at all). Glad everybody has the Avengers 2012 fanfic life that we all wanted, though.

[asgardianhammer]

|| Heavily canon-divergent from Ragnarok onward || Driven and developed by threads and personal headcanons || Mun: 30 + || she/her ||

|| Verses || Memes || Plots || Perma starter & Interaction call || Bio II

A study in: duty & honor personified, survivor’s guilt, the godly urge to rage and release some of the pain, a quest for a home within himself and within others, finding value in others, finding value in living, guiding with a strong but gentle hand, learning still, processing the inevitability of death, remaining kind when all else is cruel, forgiveness without forgetting, containing and not abusing power, finding joy and purpose, honoring what once was and creating a new future.

psd: @jjcre8 <3

family: @torxnn ♡ || @hollustu || @divinityrisen (sif )

exclusives/affiliates: @untamedtempest ♡ || @utsxlevshiy || @summerxmelodies || @frostkingoftheapocalypse || @yellingmetatron || @vallorouslly || @xlianovna

avenging with ❤️‍🔥: || @70yearsofwinter || @archcr

mains: || @talvisoldat || @kingoftheravens || @outlawiism || @mantcdea

( RULES BELOW THE CUT )

updated 05-2025 : I have not seen Love & Thunder and I will not be adopting anything from that movie, please also keep in mind that during Ragnarok his arc goes bananas and canon-divergent. I can’t stress this enough so please, please check out my rules and the Ragnarok PSA for clarification. I have also not seen Loki the series yet, I plan to still but don’t have the mental stamina for it yet, I apologize.

BLOG & MUN INFO: Private and selective MCU based RP blog, this means I rp only with mutuals at this time. Multi-ship/verse/continuity. Mun + Muse are both 30+, we will not rp with anyone under 21+ regardless of the plot/topic. I have no specific triggers, all questionable content is tagged with general tags ________tw or ___________ cw.

Blog and writing can contain NSFW and/or highly triggering content, please read my stance and PSA regarding that.

ON WRITING:  Medium to High Activity, this means I am online quite a bit, speed of replies however is depending on muse, real life stuff and can vary from absolutely insanely fast rapid-fire to a bit longer. Multi paras and novellas will usually be queued to keep my sanity from going haywire.

I consider myself adaptive and literate ( English is technically my 3rd language, and typos are the bane of my existence please forgive me any errors ). I’m comfortable with any length, script/chats, multi-paras, novellas and everything in between. There is no need to match length, just give me enough to work with and it’s all good.

ON INTERACTIONS: The best way to start writing together is to poke me in IM, throw something via Ask, or make use of the Memes . There is also a permanent starter & interaction call here that I check when I’m inspired to write small or big interactions/starters.

OC and Multi-muse friendly. I am however selective with both.

For OC’s, it’s helpful if you have a plot in mind already and your character is developed with some info/bio I can read up on, feel free to come to me with suggestions ^^

Multi-muse blogs are also welcomed and loved. However, we appreciate well-developed muses, and we love developing relationships with said well-developed muses.

I cleanse my following and followers regularly, if we haven’t interacted IC or OOC after quite some time I will cultivate my lists accordingly. No hard feelings, the door is always open. This also goes for following to remade blogs or new blogs, I will pick and choose if I follow you elsewhere.

ON TIMELINE & CANON:  I’m in general very anti-Marvel and very MCU critical, especially when it comes to the movies and some directors. Negativity regarding this is rare, if I post about it it will be tagged with “ marvel wank “.

My muse and timeline are hella canon divergent since Ragnarok, things are cherry-picked from canon.

Please make sure to read my Ragnarok PSA and Endgame PSA. When in doubt, poke me with questions :3

ON MY CONTENT:  I don’t enforce reblog karma on my blog, so feel free to reblog memes, general gifsets, quotes, music or whatever else from me <3

Please don’t reblog my world building posts or head canon posts without checking with me if it’s okay.

As much as I appreciate people’s approval of my creative works these posts are for my muse and for his universe specifically ( or even verse dependent ). More often than not things spread like wildfire in the fandom, and I don’t necessarily like my content to be exposed to a large group of people. It messes up my activity feed, it opens doors for needless discussion and discourse, and it is more likely to get stolen or copied. Please consider this before reblogging any of these posts and contact me if it’s okay to reblog a particular post. Original posts that are verse or ship dependent are off-limits by default, as are posts not created by me but by others for my muse or our verse.

ON RELATIONSHIPS:  I match your freak, IC and OOC.

Any NSFW content will be played out with partners we’re comfortable with and we established a relationship with. If your sole purpose for interactions with us is shipping and/or smut I’d rather you look elsewhere, I’m probably not the right partner for you.

I ship Thor with a LOT of people, he loves a lot and loves hard, we ship chemistry first and foremost. He is not picky in the slightest, but plotting and development are awesome things! We don’t assume or insta-ship ( not even if the ship is canon), and any kind is welcomed. Brotp’s, enemies, strange neighbor, weird uncle? Yes please.

Ships are only possible with development, when there is undeniable and natural chemistry, and especially if we vibe well OOC, I’m not a fan of pre-plotted ships.

Exclusives/Affiliates:

For my own comfort I prefer to build relationships for my muse that are meaningful and will last. This means that I have main muses/partners that have our love and trust and we will prefer new plots and threads with them over new partners.

However we will not be exclusive with anyone unless there is a mutual exclusivity.

Please note that the exclusivity/affiliation extends to faceclaims also, I’m old af and Thor is set in his ways, neither of us enjoy confusion or chase faceclaims.

Regular non-shipping rps:

There is no issue however with rp-ing as a certain character if I already am with someone else, however I will keep everybody out of each other’s world.

Don’t assume kinship, or friendships. Thor will approach canon characters according to the MCU timeline and will treat them as such.

Thor only has children in side-verses and plotted verses with specific muses. In default/main he has no children ( yet ) so any replies or approaching him as his offspring will result in confusion. Please approach me first to see if I A) am open to new threads and B) am willing to plot something before interacting.

Please don’t be mad if I deny participating, I will always inform you about the reasons.

I take relationships, IC and OOC, very seriously, and expect the same courtesy in return. This means I value OOC communication and enthusiasm a lot, and will expect depth and development between us as muns and our muses. This goes for romance but also family, friends and any other sort of interactions. Wordlessly dropping essential ( key word essential ) and plotted out threads, or disappearing for prolonged periods of time without any sort of communication, or blatantly discarding a ship is hurtful, it kills my muse and the will to invest in interactions.

CURRENT STATUS:

* Inbox/Submit box: OPEN

* IM:  OPEN to mutuals

* Plotting:  OPEN

* Memes: always OPEN

* Discord available to mutuals after we have interacted for a while.

[arctxcambush]

Less Is More, Simple Is Key

🦈 indie / selective / semi-private 🦈　　

RP/Ask Blog for ELLEN JOE from ZENLESS ZONE ZERO

✖Rules✖ About the Muse✖Interest Tracker (optional)✖

(Follows from @theannoyedskittle)

✖ Mobile Rules Under the Cut ✖

🔹️ I'm not interested in rping with individuals under the age of 18. I am over 25

🔹️ I’m open to multiple fandoms, ocs and canon characters! If they’re ocs or fandoms I’m not familiar with, I may pester you for more information.

🔹️ I am multi-ship but I prefer heavy chemistry before a ship is agreed upon. 

🔹️ I’m open to any sort of thread, but if there’s a particular path you want to feel out feel free to DM me or send an ask! With that in mind, I don’t immediately jump into more suggestive threads without some sort of discussion first.

🔹️ While common triggers are likely not going to be present on this blog, I do try to accommodate personal triggers and tag things as “TW: [Blank]” - if I miss something, I will happily go back and tag something. 

🔹️ Give me grace, and I’ll give you grace. Life is busy and I have 1 braincell so if I don't respond after a little bit, feel free to poke me.

🔹️ In a similar vein, try not to pressure for replies- whether it be ooc contact or replying to a thread.

🔹️ I’m mostly on mobile so my formatting will be all over the place.

🔹️ I’m Skittle! If you want to talk via Discord feel free to ask! 

[tellioari]

FAQ thread!!

Just an FAQ answer thread for me and Leafenzo's dye mods (of which we've decided to call them "El & L's Dyes!")

Where can I download the mods?

We are actively developing them! - so they are not out yet. Once I reach 1K followers on Twitter, we will release a playtest consisting of solely the mint dye and the associated content. I'll post on my blog of mod progress and updates, and will edit this thread in the future.

What version are the mods on?

The mod is being developed for Java Edition 1.20.1 Fabric. We may poke around with a Forge port at some point, but because of how Forge handles dye enums and such there is absolutely no guarantee.

Will it be on Bedrock?

There is no Bedrock Edition port or addon planned at all at this time. Bedrock is a completely different platform and neither me or Leafenzo have much experience with it. Perhaps it may be considered down the road, but again, no guarantees.

Can I use your textures in my project?

Generally, I don't mind my textures being used for personal texture packs, but please ask me before doing so and give credit. I do not allow my textures to be used for any public texture packs or projects. I may be open to making something if you absolutely *have* to have a texture. DM me!

Dye "mods"... how many are there?

As development moves forward this may change, but at the present moment we plan to split the main 16 dyes into 4 mods with 4 dyes each. These will be: Pastels, Vivids, Neutrals and Darks. We may also make some more dye mods with unique concepts (like glow-in-the-dark or Vantablack) but those would be for fun.

Do you have any other projects?

Besides our dye mods, we have a mod called Squashed! that is nearly finished with development and a cave/rock mod called Lithogeology in the concept stages. I'll post about those on my blog as well.

Thanks for your interest!!! Feel free to ask me more questions. Check this post in the future, as I may update it with more answers to questions later.

You can contact me on Twitter (@tellioaridoitsu) or on Discord (tellioari) and our discord server: discord.gg/ZHcPrrW29t

[trulycertain]

Tedium

A study of early game Lora and Astarion, and the absolute mess that was. Developing mostly-good bard Tav/Astarion, with so much arguing. 1.6k.

Lora has always found small, petty bastards boring - the kinds who tried to make her and so many others' lives a misery in the city. They've just got so little imagination. Their excuses are all the same, it's just a matter of scale. Even if they pretend to be misguidedly noble, the self-interest slips through eventually. Evil in stories is grand, elegant, tragic. It has really good tailoring. Evil in real life? It's banal, grey or mud-soaked, and seems to take place in offices half the time, for some reason. Good, that cheap, trite thing in too many stories? In reality, it's a sudden sparkling surprise every time it happens; Baldur's Gate is not a place known for being gentle. People are more beautiful when they do a good thing. The sky is brighter, the grass just a little bit greener.

Astarion is small, in the sense of both generosity of spirit and actual stature - it's not her fault that she's six foot two and that he gets so irritated when she sees something over the top of his head. She's not doing it on purpose. Mostly.

He's incredibly petty. (“Oh, I'm sure she's just a delight at parties,” he says of the druid guard who's stopped them at least twice, thinking they might be refugees. “Refugee? Me? Have they seen this thread? Have I a pair of horns and an air of pathetic desperation? Just because I didn't know that dirt-encrusted branches were apparently ‘in’ this week...” Finger-quotes and everything. Lora might have snorted at that. He catches her; he raises an eyebrow in response, but with the tiniest pleased tilt to his mouth.)

And he's definitely a bastard. He's happy to leave the tieflings to die - happy to leave anyone to, it seems. She has to take a deep breath at that, but there are the pressing time constraints of soon turning into a mindflayer; no wonder he wants to get straight to healers and the creche. Good intentions won't mean much if you turn into a squid mid-fight and end up killing or kidnapping all the refugees anyway. She tries hard to bear that in mind while he sighs melodramatically, as if helping people is an inconvenience that might lead to his breaking a nail, and she glares at him. He delights in a holy relic being stolen - but with something like genuine approval of the tiefling child's bravery, somewhere under all that. And he's not wrong that all this self-righteousness about not interfering in nature is a bit rich when you're very intentionally turning people out to the mercy of raiders. But that's all he's right about.

A small, petty bastard. All that's true, and real. So why does she keep talking to him? Why isn't she bored? Angry, most of the time, and amused, sometimes, but not bored.

If Lora knows one thing, it's a narrative. Retellings wear grooves in the dirt for a reason; it feels like there's a way some stories have to wrap up. She knows exactly how it would have ended if she'd met Astarion before the tadpole. A cruel vampire too well-oiled by half, who seemed to delight in death and blood? One of them would have ended up dead, the other with a twist of satisfaction - his at having survived another day and, as a bonus, shut up a pompous hero type; hers at having taken someone that dangerous out of the world, even if she'd have completely missed the master pulling the strings.

Later, when she realises she's been imagining completely the wrong backstory for him, she thinks of the Grove again. Of being free for the first time in two hundred years, finally able to walk in the sun, and losing it in minutes because your leader ran headfirst into a battle.

Hells, she hates when he almost makes sense. It makes her dust off her moral compass for a quick check.

Still, he meanders up to her - to poke her, to tease and taunt, but sometimes just… to ask questions. Feeling for her weak spots, probably, but there's a cheerful curiosity in his eyes that seems genuine when he asks her how she learned to play the lyre, what her other instruments are. It's a rare moment of peace in between their mutual arguments. He plays it off soon enough with some comment about her being good with her hands and an eyebrow-waggle, but the questions were real. He prods her to see what falls out and she… lets him. If anything, she does the same. And she still isn't bored.

He delights in bloodshed and mayhem; he drinks deeply of death just the way he does of life. She’s caught him laughing under his breath when someone falls to the floor, caught him licking the blood off his daggers when he thought she wasn’t looking - that just got her a red-stained grin and an obscene widening of his arms like he was inviting her to look. He makes jokes about killing gnomes. He makes jokes about killing her, though those are actually funny, and he's right about having to face what will happen if they change; it's best to do it with a laugh. It's also oddly forthright, oddly brave, for a man who's never been forthright in his life. He beams at her when she plays along, like she’s just given him a gift, morbidly pleased at speaking of his own beheading. Death and bloodshed and mayhem, yes.

Except.

Except when she’s watching a young tiefling girl about to be bitten by a snake, or pretending to offer the goblins’ general the tiefling camp on a platter. His eyes harden, in that moment, even while his mouth twitches and he makes amused, contemptuous quips: like he’s waiting for her to make the obvious choice. And even as he makes approving noises at the thought of the goblins’ victory, even as he castigates her for her soppy kindness…

Cruelty would be the obvious, the easy choice. It would be exactly what he expects. It would also be, she’s certain more and more when she feels those red eyes on her, the boring choice. To him, too. Even if he doesn't want to admit it.

She's always had a good instinct for people, so her mentor used to say. It got taught to her early, taught her when a glassing was coming or she was about to get stiffed on payment at a tavern or just how to work a crowd.

Stories in well-worn grooves. Two hundred years of death and desperate self-service and making sure everyone's expendable but you, over and over again. The same narrative shoved down your throat for two hundred years.

The shape of it is there in her mind, sketched out but not detailed yet: he knows cruelty like the back of his hand, partaking and receiving. He can sleepwalk his way through it. There’s a delight when he speaks of it, an amusement in his eyes, but it’s the same as when he spoke of being a magistrate back in the city, it’s all very tedious, lording his power over her, pointed and urbane and far, far too well-rehearsed. The same way she looks over her shoulder and catches him flirting with their companions, incorrigible, a lazy, leering lean closer in his tone even as he keeps walking beside them. There’s real amusement there at getting to play with words, at making them uncomfortable, and yet... I saw you mouthing that one to yourself in the mirror earlier, Shadowheart points out, when he tries a particularly trite line on her. And Lora thinks, Exactly.

He bristles and shouts at her and makes drawled comments about how much of a drip she is. She agrees to find an elderly woman’s missing daughter; behind her, she hears him sigh and not even bother to hide it, the rolling of his eyes entirely audible. They get back to camp and he asks her, “This will take us closer to understanding the tadpole how, exactly?” He hates every minute of it, hates her - but there’s a wildfire in him, searing bright and unrehearsed and fascinatingly real, when he snarls at her and melodramatically turns his back to her and calls her tedious.

She bought it at first, the way he called her that. She was boring, certainly, and he was a self-serving shallow ass - that part was true, even if he was lying through his teeth about so many things. He got to stay because they dearly needed a lockpicker and archer as good as him, and because she was too reluctantly herself to let him turn into a mindflayer alone, even if she should have. As he said that second night: you need someone to put you out of your misery.

And then she realised precisely what it was, behind all the bared teeth and callous suggestions: he’s waiting.

He waits for her to slip and kill someone because it’s easier, or say that he deserved his master’s treatment. She laughs sometimes at his sense of humour - less dark, more Underdark - and takes precisely none of his suggestions. He waits for her to be a humourless paladin type who crushes him underfoot or turns out to be a stiff fraud wearing mail, and she cackles at his muttered observations, happily humiliates the little tyrants they see on the road along with him. The moments their eyes meet and she sees the silent vicious glee in his, too, the both of them knowing pride comes before a very long fall, they almost understand each other. She lies and cheats the false servants of Tyr before killing them anyway, because they were going to drag an innocent tiefling back to the Hells, and sees his reluctantly impressed eyebrows out of the corner of her eye - and then she gives the money to refugees while he sighs. He snarls, I was a slave and waits for her to order him about or step over him; the best she can tell, she treats him just the same. As they keep to the road and he realises that the mask he’s been trying to pry away is just her face, the easy, dulled cynicism in his eyes is starting to be replaced by something else: a confused, furious surprise. Maybe the first surprise he’s had in two centuries.

She’s learned to read him a little better, over these weeks on the road. She’s driving him mad. He’s incandescently angry with and baffled by her in turns. But she doesn’t believe him when he says he finds her tedious.

[heirloomficinfo]

Heirloom Chapter 5

read it on ao3

<<first <prev next>

Fall, Year of the Boar Tsubame Atae, age 7

Tsu was returning from resetting one of his fish traps in the river just outside of the village when he sensed Orochimaru in the distance. The sannin appeared to be approaching Tsu’s apartment building. Not looking forward to another one of his tests, Tsu turned and wandered into the forest instead of returning home. Maybe if he was away from home for long enough, Orochimaru would give up and find something else to do with his free time.

Laying on the forest floor, hands on his stomach, Tsu looked up through the foliage at the sky. Even his own apartment building seemed crowded, these days. At least out here in the forest he wasn’t stumbling through a tangle of imaginary magic threads, sorting through the interpersonal relationships of hundreds of ninja and even more civilians. Closing his eyes, Tsu considered - not for the first time - simply leaving the Leaf to live in the woods, eating fish and whatever edible plants he could find.

A rustle in the grass drew Tsu back to reality; rolling his head to look in the direction of the noise, he found a thin green and black snake weaving through the grass toward him. Realizing it had been seen, the snake froze for a moment.

“Hello,” Tsu said politely. “Are you going to try to eat me?” He knew such a small snake wasn’t likely to see him as a meal option, but it seemed rude to ignore the animal. The snake responded by raising its head and eyeing Tsu suspiciously, licking the air.

Moving slowly, Tsu reached one hand out toward the creature, vaguely interested in feeling it. He’d never touched a snake before; books told him they weren’t slimy as many people thought they were, but he wanted to feel for himself. Surprisingly, the snake didn’t retreat. It seemed to consider the outstretched hand for a moment, tongue flicking again.

Finally, to Tsu’s great surprise, the snake approached the outstretched hand and slid its head into his open palm. It was soft and dry, the scales surprisingly cool to the touch.

“Please don’t change your mind and bite me,” Tsu said. The snake slithered up his outstretched arm instead, making its way to his collar. Tsu stayed still, not wanting to startle the creature, as it crawled under the cloth of his collar and down the sleeve of his opposite arm.

The snake settled there; with a shock, Tsu realized the snake actually had a thread attached to it. Normally, animals didn’t register in Tsu’s strange sensory abilities; this one, however, had a teeny cobweb of chakra trailing off of it in the direction of his home. Remembering that Orochimaru was the snake sannin, Tsu sighed. This wasn’t a wild snake, then, but a summoned one sent to find him here in the woods.

Sitting up slowly, Tsu got to his feet and turned in the direction of the thread between himself and Orochimaru. The snake wrapped itself around his arm and then turned around until it could poke its little triangle head out of Tsu’s shirt collar.

Orochimaru wore a kimono again, her face already shifted by that disguise jutsu. Tsu briefly considered asking the sannin to teach him the jutsu, but decided against it. Bowing politely, he took a moment to appreciate the delicate shade of pink Orochimaru had chosen for her kimono. Little flowers, only a few shades darker than the rest of the outfit, decorated the hems and collar of the kimono; a plain brown obi gave the impression of a tree branch.

“Another test, Captain?” Tsu asked, standing still so that Orochimaru could greet the snake that was still sticking its head out of his collar. There was a strange softness to Orochimaru’s eyes and touch as the sannin greeted the snake, a sense of happiness at the animal’s presence that Tsu would have expected from someone greeting a particularly cute puppy.

“A real mission, this time,” Orochimaru answered. When she pulled her hand away from the snake, Tsu turned and led the way into his apartment building. “Aren’t you curious about the details?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me what I need to know, Captain,” Tsu said calmly. The exhaustion of spending so much time in the village - and the prospect of following someone around again in the heart of the village - made him testy and decidedly incurious. As long as he was paid this time, Tsu decided, he didn’t care what the mission entailed. If he was lucky, it would be a C-rank instead of the usual D-rank. With the income from a C-rank mission, he might be able to afford the materials to make a bird-summoning scroll.

“An important scroll has been stolen,” Orochimaru explained once they were inside Tsu’s apartment, “and we have reason to believe two of our own are responsible. I will introduce you to them, and when they leave the village we will follow them.”

“Understood, Captain,” Tsu said tiredly before stepping into his bedroom. Traitors to the village, then. An assignment like this seemed well above the skill expected of a genin, but it wasn’t Tsu’s place to argue.

Orochimaru had Tsu’s book about elemental chakra natures open when he stepped from his bedroom to the bathroom. When Tsu had begun to change clothes, the snake had shifted until it was looped gently around one of his forearms, as out of the way as it could manage without leaving altogether.

The bone hair pin in a half-bun wasn’t Tsu’s only choice to look more feminine this time; after a moment of hesitation, he reached into his mother’s little makeup box. A thin black stick of ink carefully applied around his eyes made his father’s eyes pop more than usual; a touch of pink stain on his lips made them look fuller. Surveying the finished look, Tsu smiled slightly. It was nice, he decided, to feel pretty every once in a while.

Orochimaru pointed out the two ninja they’d been assigned to follow by leaning down close and whispering in Tsu’s ear. He resisted the urge to pull away, afraid for a moment that Orochimaru would touch him again and his father’s jutsu would force an exchange of memories. That would definitely draw attention to them both and ruin the mission.

The two followed their quarry for about fifteen minutes before Orochimaru pulled Tsu away and ordered him to focus his attention on the tallest of the two, and to report any unusual activity directly to the snake still tucked in the sleeve of his kimono. Before Tsu thought to ask the snake’s name - it seemed impolite to speak to any creature without knowing its name - Orochimaru disappeared.

His quarry wandered the village innocently, visiting little shops and the village’s best bathhouse. Tsu stayed within two blocks of the pair, eventually forced to buy himself lunch at a stall when they showed no signs of leaving the village. The price of the meal made Tsu wince, but hopefully this mission’s pay would make up for it. He offered a bite of meat to the snake in his sleeve, but it only licked the air next to the morsel before tucking itself away again.

Tsu passed Guy in the street, amused when the boy didn’t seem to recognize him at all. Guy appeared to be on one of the more annoying missions - hunting for a runaway cat - and rushed away without a second glance at Tsu. Kakashi did recognize Tsu, however, raising an eyebrow in a silent question. Tsu answered with only a smile and a wave, enjoying the whirl of confusion in his friend as he passed by. Glancing over his shoulder, Tsu was amused to see Kakashi turn back to look at him as he walked away. Kakashi shrugged and returned to whatever he’d been doing.

Finally, shortly after noon, his quarry began to wander in the direction of the village gates. Tsu passed Guy again as he trailed them; Guy had scratches from a cat’s claws on his face, and dirt under his nails. It seemed Tsu’s friend had been given the annoying missions Tsu usually ended up with. Guy paused in the street when he saw Tsu, recognition and confusion plain on his face. Tsu smiled and waved, again amused by his friend’s confusion.

The moment the two suspect ninja stepped out of the village gates, Tsu pulled the right sleeve of his kimono aside so he could report to his snake companion. The snake responded by opening its mouth; with a wince, Tsu realized there was a little scrap of paper in the snake’s mouth. Wishing he was wearing his gloves - this time so he wouldn’t have to feel the inside of a snake’s mouth - Tsu reached between the snake’s fangs with two fingers and carefully pulled the scrap of paper out.

Get dressed for possible combat and meet me at the village gates

“Understood,” Tsu spoke directly to the snake, assuming it would deliver the message back to the one who had summoned it. The snake unraveled partly from his arm, stretching its neck out so that it could gently bump its nose against Tsu’s. With a puff of smoke, the snake disappeared.

Tsu opted to jump on top of a building and return home from the roofs of the village rather than stumbling through the crowd of people in the streets. The tangle of emotions in the village was no less strangling on the roof tops, but at least Tsu wasn’t bumping physically into people as he ran from the village gate back home.

He didn’t bother washing off the eyeliner or lip stain, aware that the traitors were getting further away by the minute. He did take the time to hang up his kimono, however, and to replace the bone pin in his hair with his mother’s silver wing and bell hair pin.

Orochimaru wasn’t at the gates, instead just outside and standing under a tree dressed for combat. He wore an ANBU mask with purple paint on it; another member of the ANBU sat in a tree branch above him, his mask decorated with green. Tsu greeted them both with a polite bow, accepting the plain white mask Orochimaru offered him and staring at it for a moment.

“I didn’t want-” Tsu started, but Orochimaru’s companion interrupted.

“You’re not joining ANBU, kid. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Understood,” Tsu answered, pulling the mask on. Amusement trickled along the thread between Tsu and Orochimaru; when the sannin turned and left, Tsu and the other ANBU followed.

“They met with someone I didn’t recognize and turned south,” the fourth member of their squad was waiting for them a few yards further into the forest, gesturing in the direction he spoke about. When he glanced Tsu’s way, a burst of annoyance was like a smack to the face. “A kid, sir? Really?”

“Tsu-chan will stay out of our way, won’t you?” Orochimaru asked. Tsu nodded, staying at the rear of the group as the fourth member fell into formation. This one had yellow paint on his mask. As Tsu hadn’t been told what to call any of them, and he knew they weren’t supposed to use real names when working ANBU missions, Tsu decided to refer to them by the colors on their mask, and Orochimaru as “Captain”, until told otherwise.

“She’s going to fall behind in no time,” Green suggested, amused. Tsu decided not to dignify that with a response; Orochimaru only chuckled.

“Isn’t it a boy?” Yellow asked, glancing back toward Tsu.

“She’s wearing makeup,” Green replied.

“Enough chatter,” Orochimaru drawled. “Do you sense them yet, child?”

Tsu stopped, landing on a tree branch and closing his eyes to sort through the tangle of strings that seemed to spread out around him. Most of the strings led back to Konoha; of those leading away from the village, the one between him and Orochimaru was the thickest. After a moment, he was able to find the three strings he recognized from his morning of following the traitor ninja.

“This way,” Tsu said, turning slightly more westward. Orochimaru nodded; Green and Yellow exchanged a glance before shrugging and turning in the direction Tsu had indicated.

Orochimaru took the lead again, and Tsu allowed the other two to get in front as well. He was, without a doubt, the weakest member of this squad; it would be foolish to force his way to the front of the pack where he could easily be picked off.

The pace Orochimaru set was brutal, but months of endurance training with Guy made it possible for Tsu to keep up, at least for now. Their quarry didn’t stay moving in a straight line, but Tsu’s strings did. Yellow pointed out their quarry’s physical trails leading in different directions from Tsu’s senses twice before Orochimaru ordered him to stop. The first time, the trail picked back up a minute or so later. The second time, however, was the last they saw any physical evidence. With the distance between themselves and Konoha growing, the pressing weight of all of the emotions in Konoha lifted and Tsu felt muscles he hadn’t realized were tense begin to relax.

The distance their targets had put between them while Tsu got changed out of his kimono was gone in less than twenty minutes; Orochimaru slowed their pace when he felt they were getting close enough to be noticed. Tsu accepted the change of pace with some relief; his legs were beginning to burn from the prolonged run, and he realized this was the furthest from Konoha he’d ever been.

“We’ll be crossing the river soon,” Green noted.

“I’m not carrying the kid if he can’t run on the water,” Yellow growled.

“Quiet,” Orochimaru ordered. Both Yellow and Green flinched as if he’d smacked them; Tsu kept his mouth shut. Orochimaru slowed some more, presumably so that they would have more distance between them by the time they hit the water. They would be exposed to both the enemy’s eyes and potential traps while they crossed the river.

When they did get to the river, Tsu felt a surge of anticipation and curiosity from all three of the men; when he didn’t sink into the water or stumble as the current churned under their feet, Yellow and Green both registered a certain amount of disappointment. Orochimaru’s response was satisfaction.

Once they were back in the relative safety of the forest, Tsu pulled up in the formation until he could run alongside Orochimaru. His legs were burning and his lungs were beginning to struggle to keep up. Though he was sure Orochimaru could guess his problem, Tsu spoke quietly.

“I can’t keep this pace much longer, Captain,” he admitted. Orochimaru only nodded. Allowing himself to fall back again, Tsu focused on not stumbling as he kept up with Orochimaru. The painted wooden mask seemed to make it harder to breathe, and the eye holes didn’t feel big enough to properly see approaching trip hazards. Tsu was so focused on not tripping that he almost missed the sudden arrival of others ahead of them.

“Captain,” he said sharply, dropping down to the earth beneath them. Finding a bare patch of dirt, he knelt with a wince. He would have trouble standing up after this, he knew.

“We don’t have time for this,” Green growled, dropping down next to Tsu and grabbing him by the back of his collar as if to yank him back to his feet. Tsu reached into one of the bags attached to his belt, pulling out a small handful of sunflower seeds and ignoring Green’s tugging at his collar. Orochimaru landed in front of them both, kneeling in front of Tsu expectantly.

“Four more people,” Tsu said, closing his eyes and focusing on what was ahead. It was harder to track people he’d never been in contact with, but the three they’d been following knew the new arrivals; their own pins were connected with further strings. Tsu laid a seed in the dirt at the positions each of the seven ahead of them had taken, putting the pointed parts of the seeds facing him.

“These are their positions?” Yellow asked, kneeling on Tsu’s other side. Tsu nodded, then placed seeds to represent their own group.

“This one is you, Captain,” Tsu said, pointing at the largest of the sunflower seeds in their pile of four. Touching the thinnest of the ‘enemy’ seeds, he continued. “This is the one you told me to pay the closest attention to. The one on the left was in the village with him; on the right is the one they met up with outside the gates.”

“Have they sensed us?” Orochimaru asked. Tsu shook his head.

“As far as I can tell, they’re just meeting up and exchanging news. No anger or fear, just general goodwill. They must be allies, but I don’t think they know we’re following them.”

“Good,” Orochimaru murmured. “We’ll wait and see if they separate again. Heal the genin while we wait.”

Without a word, Green’s hand shifted from tugging on Tsu’s collar to rest gently on his back. A cool wash of healing chakra made his burning lungs settle; the tension in his legs faded almost immediately. His shoulders sagged and a sigh of relief escaped him as his exhaustion disappeared. Suddenly, Tsu felt better than he had in months. Green seemed surprised by Tsu’s reaction, as if he hadn’t realized how much his healing might do.

They waited for another five minutes, Tsu performing some stretches he’d learned from Guy before his freshly healed muscles had a chance to seize up. Finally, he felt movement ahead.

“They’re splitting up,” he said, returning to the pile of seeds in the dirt. He rearranged the seeds to show everyone splitting into pairs and doubling back, except for the tall one Orochimaru had ordered him to focus on. He continued with his original route.

“Let’s get going, then,” Orochimaru said. Tsu nodded, swiping the seeds and scattering them in the grass nearby. They resumed their chase. Tsu, strength renewed, was able to split his attention between the one they chased and the six others; when the six circled back as if to start following their team, he pulled up next to Orochimaru and reported it in an urgent whisper.

“You’re certain they don’t realize we’re here?” Orochimaru asked.

“I don’t sense any urgency in them,” Tsu said. “But I haven’t used this ability much, so I can’t be sure. We haven’t-”

A snap of excitement, mixed with a tinge of rage, radiated from one of those behind them. Instinctively, he turned to look back; none of the other ninja were within his line of sight, and he cursed himself for trying as he always did to see the threads with his eyes instead of his chakra. Distracted, he missed his next jump. Orochimaru caught him almost casually, coming to a stop on a branch and setting Tsu down with a smirk.

“They must have found signs of us following their comrades,” Tsu said, trying not to show his embarrassment. “They’ve picked up speed.”

“We haven’t been hiding signs of our passage,” Yellow said. “Should we have been, Captain?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Orochimaru said dismissively. “We’ll face these ones and catch back up with our quarry. He’s well within your range, Tsu-chan?”

“Yes, sir, though he’s further away by the minute.”

“The fight will be quick,” Orochimaru said. He was clearly excited by the prospect of a battle, a reaction that made Tsu’s skin crawl a little bit. Hand signals sent Green and Yellow into the trees to prepare an ambush; Tsu was startled when Orochimaru ordered him to land in the clearing below them and wait. Trying not to show his nerves, Tsu pulled the weapons storage scroll from his pocket and called out his mother’s naginata.

He didn’t bother to call to Orochimaru when he sensed two of the coming ninja summoning clones; he had no doubt that Orochimaru could sense as much for himself at such a close range. The enemy count jumped from six to twelve in an instant, the clones easy to separate from their originals because they each had only a single thread leading back to the one that summoned them. Tsu shifted his stance, taking a deep breath and bracing for the coming attack.

Yellow and Green attacked from the left and right respectively as twelve unmarked ninja appeared from between the trees; they were met with three opponents each, the sound of clashing weapons echoing through the forest.

Orochimaru announced his presence from above with a swarm of snakes erupting from his sleeves. Three clones disappeared as the snakes bit them, a real ninja defending himself from a snake bite by cutting its head off. Orochimaru charged him, a sword of his own in hand.

Knowing which were clones allowed Tsu to focus his attention on the one real ninja that had yet to be engaged. He and the remaining clones picked Tsu as an easy target and attacked, swords drawn. Thankfully, the naginata was especially effective against katanas, even when attacked by more than one at a time. Tsu focused on the real ninja, dodging the clones’ attacks in case they were shadow clones that could actually do damage instead of the harmless images he’d learned to summon at the Academy.

This was a real fight, rather than a sparring match, but the general emotions of those around him were largely the same. Orochimaru seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself, bubbling with joy the way Guy did during his sparring matches with Kakashi and Tsu. Yellow radiated calm determination, interrupted occasionally with little surges of excitement or fear depending on how his fight was going. Asuma and Kakashi had both read a similar pattern in their various matches at the Academy. Even Green’s bundle of anxiety was familiar, like what Tsu had sensed from Nanami and a few others in class.

The enemy’s emotions were closest to Orochimaru’s, all happiness and anticipation at the sound of steel on steel. Tsu’s enemy, in particular, was enjoying himself. His blade flashed, teasing at openings in Tsu’s defenses but not taking the opportunities. His general sense of amusement grated Tsu’s nerves; he didn’t mind being underestimated, but this was a waste of time and energy as his comrades fought for their lives and the person they were meant to be following got further and further away.

With a scowl that no one could see behind his mask, Tsu switched from his defensive stance to a more offensive one, moving with greater speed now as he tried to get past his enemy’s defenses and land a solid blow. The Grass ninja he fought was startled by the  sudden boost in skill, but maintained his defense against Tsu all the same. Sinking further into his mother’s memories of naginata practice, Tsu increased his speed once again.

Now the enemy barely kept up with his blade, and Tsu had time between jabs and slices at the enemy to swing his blade or the staff of his naginata at the clones around him. Each of the clones disappeared on impact; either they were incredibly weak Shadow Clones, or they were the same kind of illusions Tsu had learned at the Academy. Either way, they were no longer a threat.

As he was closing in on his enemy, forcing the ninja back with sharp, swift movements, Tsu felt terror from Green. Green’s terror was matched with triumph from the ninja he fought; Tsu’s reaction was instinctive.

He spun, shifting his hold on his naginata until he held it like a spear instead. Without pausing to take proper aim with his eyes, relying entirely on his sensory ability, Tsu threw his naginata with all of his strength at the person Green was fighting.

The ninja Green had been fighting disappeared from Tsu’s senses like a candle that had been blown out. The strings that had been tangled around him, relationships that spread in every direction and stretched miles and miles into the distance, snapped. One of the strings, thin but present by virtue of Tsu’s sensory jutsu, was wrapped around Tsu’s own core. When it snapped, the string seemed to fling back into Tsu like a rubber band that had been pulled too tight. A single memory - a baby in his hands, all the inexplicable joy of a new father - nearly knocked Tsu to the ground as that string slammed back into him.

He stumbled, looking at the body that had once been a fellow ninja, a new father. He didn’t know the man’s name, but for just a moment it felt like Tsu had known him his entire life. Now the man was little more than a corpse, run through with a naginata that pinned him to a tree. Green was on the ground, head only a fraction of an inch below the naginata’s blade, heart racing with shock.

Another surge of excitement came from the one Tsu had been fighting; he’d not only disarmed himself, but left himself wide open for counterattack. Reacting instinctively once more, Tsu jumped directly up with all of his strength. A blade passed just under his toes as he brought his knees to his chest. A massive snake’s head flitted into the opening, sinking fangs into the wrist of his attacker. Orochimaru was the one filled with excitement at the opening and following bloodshed now.

Tsu landed on the head of the one he’d been fighting, feet smashing into him and knocking him unconscious. At the same time, the ninja Yellow had been fighting disappeared, another string slamming into Tsu with an image of a gravestone partially hidden by heavy mist. Tsu jumped from his enemy’s head, correcting himself in the air this time so that he landed on solid ground.

The one Orochimaru had been fighting died as Green climbed out from beneath the man Tsu had killed, kunai in hand and blood on his mask. The memory this time was a pretty girl with a red birth mark on her cheek, dancing gleefully in the rain. Tsu’s stomach churned.

Two more ninja died in unison as Green and Yellow completed a combination attack; one thought of his final meal, a bowl of hot rice with sesame seeds. The other’s final thought was of his father, a look of disappointment on a grizzled face.

The sixth ninja convulsed, more than one memory flickering across the connection between him and Tsu as he died from the poison in Orochimaru’s snake’s fangs. He’d been in love with the one whose memory was a girl dancing in the rain; another memory told Tsu that the skinny ex-Leaf ninja they were following was this man’s little brother, someone he was willing to die for. His last memory before he died was the image of Tsu throwing his naginata like a spear.

Tsu stood in the clearing for a moment, dazed by the unexpected inrush of others’ memories. Orochimaru said something, but his ears were ringing too much to hear him. Embarrassed gratitude drifted off of Green; shock from Yellow as they both surveyed the naginata pinning a young father to a tree like some sick decoration. Orochimaru was still full of exhilaration from the fight, still talking. Yellow and Green turned to respond to Orochimaru as Tsu stumbled over to a nearby bush and pulled his mask aside, gasping for air as if he’d just been drowning.

Tsu lost his lunch, eyes closed as he tried to gather up the latest of his borrowed memories and shove them into the same corner he’d kept his mothers’ memories. He would need time to process these deaths, and what seeing their last thoughts would mean for his future as a shinobi. But, right now, he needed to focus on what Orochimaru was saying.

After seeing these three ANBU fight, Tsu was painfully aware that any sign of weakness would likely lead to his death. Rubbing at his mouth, Tsu took several long, slow breaths before straightening up. Head finally clear, he turned back to find Orochimaru, Green and Yellow gathering the dead into a pile in the middle of the clearing. They even rummaged through the enemy’s pockets, probably looking for important missives or useful weapons. Tsu watched silently for a moment before turning his attention to his blood-soaked naginata.

He scrubbed the worst of the blood off of his naginata and shoved it back into its scroll with shaking hands as the other three finished checking the enemy dead for useful information or weapons. When Orochimaru asked Tsu which way they needed to go, all he could get himself to do was point silently in the appropriate direction.

[noodlenoodlenoodlenoodle]

So what am I? The butt of the joke?

Scout didn't like coming to Medic's office. He didn't like being around him, he didn't like talking to him, and he sure as hell didn't like having to get patched up by him. The old man pried too much into his life, talked too much, and a million other things Scout could list off that would take up an entire day. Something about Medic just boiled Scout's blood, and he didn't even seem to realize it.

Scout hissed through his teeth as Medic pressed a peroxide-soaked cotton swab to his busted knuckles, clenching his jaw and other fist, nails digging into his palm. "You said it'd only sting a little," Scout hissed through gritted teeth, furiously glaring at Medic.

"Oh, don't be such a baby," Medic said with a roll of his eyes, placing the cotton swab onto the sterile tray where the rest of his medical instruments lay. Scout warily eyed the needle as Medic wiped it down with a sterile alcohol pad, pulling nylon thread through the eye. "Now, zis will pinch a little, so try to be still, ja?"

Scout fought the urge to whine and complain as Medic began to slowly stitch up his knuckles, pulling the wounds closed cleanly and with extreme precision. As much as Scout hated it, Medic was extremely good at his job, though he'd never tell anyone that.

"Zere." Medic snipped the thread, wrapping gauze around Scout's knuckles. "Zat wasn't so bad, ja? And you can even take a lutscher since you didn't whine!" Medic grins gleefully, pointing at a mug filled with various colorful suckers and lollipops.

"I'm not a damn baby," Scout snapped, sliding off the table, snatching a sucker from the mug with a scowl. He wasn't going to turn down free candy, that'd just be stupid.

"Kleines Arschloch!" Medic shouted as the doors swung shut behind Scout, his voice muffled as Scout walked further away from the lab, peeling off the plastic and putting the sucker in his mouth. It wasn't half bad.

Maybe he'd swing by Medic's lab more, just to get a sucker every now and then.

"Ah, Scout!" Medic clasped his hands together, smiling widely as Scout poked his head through the swinging doors of Medic's lab. It was odd, seeing the doctor so... excited to see him. It was almost unsettling, seeing him so happy. "I was hoping you'd swing by!"

"...you were?" Scout hesitantly let the doors swing shut behind him, the action feeling like he was signing the warrant for his death. What the hell had he just gotten himself into?

"Ja, ja!" Medic waved Scout over, turning to his desk. "I vas vondering, I've been taking ze team's DNA samples, and-"

"You've what?"

"Shush!" Medic glared at Scout, mouth pulling into a scowl as he continued. "As I was saying, I've been taking ze team's DNA samples, and you mentioned not knowing your father, ja?"

Scout's brow furrowed. His dad? What the hell did that deadbeat piece of shit have to do with anything?

"Vell, if you'll give me a sample of your DNA, I can find out who it is!" Medic seemed... a little too excited about the prospect, like there was an ulterior motive he had in mind, but... Scout couldn't think of one.

"And you promise no funny business?" Scout frowned, eyes trained on Medic, searching for any sign that he had an ulterior and nefarious motive.

"Promise, promise!" Medic gleefully handed Scout a small tube. "Just spit in ze tube, and I vill take care of ze rest!"

"Hey doc." The doors to Medic's lab swung open and closed, a noise Scout was starting to become familiar with. He wouldn't admit it, not even with a gun pointed to his head, but he was starting to enjoy Medic's company. "You, uh... y'said you wanted to see me?"

"Ja, ja!" Medic turned around with a wide grin, a stack of papers held tightly in his hand. "Ze DNA results are in! Oh, I should tell you, ve made bets on vho it vould be." Medic laughed, continuing before Scout could even interject. "Anyvay, ze results confirm zat Spy is your biological fazer!"

Scout paused for a moment. Bets? Confirmation? Spy?!?

"Woah, woah woah WOAH!" Scout held his hands in the air, staring at Medic with a horrified and confused expression. "You made bets on who my dad was?"

Medic shrugged, nonchalantly nodding as if it were as normal as drinking water. "Ja, most of ze team zought zat Spy was your fazer."

Medic pauses for a moment, his face falling and turning into one of abject horror. "Oh. Did you... not know zat?"

"My dad's Spy!? And you made bets on it!?"

Scout... didn't know why it bothered him that the team had made bets on who his father was without even bothering to tell him first. Sure, he'd always had his suspicions about Spy, but it hadn't occurred to him that his suspicions went beyond speculation.

No, no, it couldn't be true. It couldn't. There was no way Spy was his dad, no way in hell. This was all just some cruel joke that he was the butt off.

"Very funny, doc," Scout snapped, jaw clenched. "Where's the real results."

Medic paused, staring at Scout blankly. "...zey are ze real results, Scout."

...

......

No.

No, it wasn't true.

It couldn't be.

This was all a joke, a joke that he was the butt of. He was always the butt of the joke. That was all it was.

A joke.

Just a joke.

[spiderxbatty]

Rules

Thank you for those of you who have taken the time to read this. Hopefully with these rules in place I can avoid some confusion in the future.

Don’t rush me when it comes to replies. We all have lives, some more busy than others. And on top of that, I happen to be taking a lot of medication that tends to place me straight on my butt. The medication I take is for anxiety, depression, and my condition. (Fibromyalgia) So, answering things may be a little slow on my end. Feel free to poke me in a message after a week. Chances are, that my brain went dumb and I forgot. So gentle reminders are nice.

I don't have icons for Ariana at the moment. So, if you prefer to rp with someone with icons..you might not have a great time rping with Ariana.

I multi-ship Ariana. At the moment, she still has her V-card. Yes, she was turned when she was still a virgin. So anyone who wants to do the dirty with her..will have to show her what to do. Just keep in mind...she might get a little too...excited.

I don’t mind role playing with other versions of other characters. I’m pretty open and friendly as far as role players go. :)

Oh..and for the nsfw stuff…it can be done in a thread or in the chat. Though if it’s in a thread..I feel a little more comfortable if there is a see more button on it. However I understand that there are role players that don’t like to use that feature, which is fine.

I also have discord if that makes things easier. Should things get to that point, we can talk about it.

I do have triggers like the usual, rape, animal abuse, heavy drug use, and burning houses/buildings please make sure to tag your posts.

If you are a fetish blog, ummm..you are going to be blocked. I’ve dealt with enough of those in the past that I really rather not deal with them here. Thanks.

If you have a pronoun/name you’d rather me address you as PLEASE TELL ME! I’d rather not disrespect my fellow rpers. <33

If you want to drop a role play or if you have something happen and you can’t rp any more..please tell me. We’re all human,shit happens. But communication is rather important when it comes to being rp partners and friends. I'll do my best to do the same on my end.

I’m not a mutual’s only kind of blog, but I do tend to follow back with people who I rp with. And no, you don’t have to follow back if I happen to follow first.

The mun here is 24+..so if your character wants to have a straight up heart to heart with Ariana, let’s do it! She has some major big sister vibes. Just as long as you aren’t super creepy about it.

I don’t like having people sending me passwords or anything if they read this. Just tell me you read it and that’s good enough for me. And if you have any questions..feel free to send them my way.

[spaced-out-muses]

Spaced-Out-Muses

❖Indie Multimuse, Multifandom & OC RP Blog ❖Semi-selective ❖Extremely Crossover, OC & and Duplicate friendly! ❖Follows back from @starkitters Rules | Muses | Mun | Verses

Rules under the cut for easier viewing:

1. Getting it out of the way now, I am very liberal when it comes to blocking/soft blocking. If you make me uncomfortable in any way, shape, or form, I reserve the right to block you. Full stop. I also ask that—unless it is something we can talk through—you block/soft-block me if there’s anything you don’t vibe with as well. 2. Please do not send in any unprompted magic anons, I am not accepting them.

3. This blog is duplicate friendly! I am more than comfortable with them, and while I currently don’t have that many canon muses, I am more than alright with and encourage duplicates of other canons to interact! HSR and Tezuka play with the multiverse a lot, though only my HSR muses will be actively aware of the multiverse. 4. Mun is of age, however there will be no ERP on this blog. While I am more than alright with suggestive content, discussing sexual headcanons and fade to blacks, I am not comfortable writing full on smut on tumblr and would prefer to do so through discord or DMs. 5. On that note, Please let me know if you want me to trigger tag anything. I will try my best to tag any heavy topics when they arise, as I do like gore and angstier scenarios, but it’s very possible there will be things I miss. If that’s the case, please please please let me know and I’ll be sure to properly tag it. 6. Feel free to DM me or ask for my Discord if you want to discuss potential plots! I always enjoy planning an interaction, even if it doesn’t happen right away. Communication is key, after all! 7. Feel free to poke me if I’ve forgotten to reply to a thread or anything! I often get sidetracked with other things in my life and forget, and other times my social battery may be too low to work on replies. Even so, I genuinely do not mind if you send me a message with a reminder if I’ve been MIA for a few days. Communication is key, after all. 8. I am open to ships!! While I do have a few I have outside of RP, I’m very multiship and always down to explore different dynamics and see where things go. All I ask is that you please talk through things with me first. Again, communication is key.

[toomanydamnmuses]

((Making this a pinned post for those on mobile who may have trouble accessing the rules & muse list))

RULES & ABOUT MUN

General

1. PG-13 level is preferred, but I am willing to go NSFW level at times, depending on the content.

2. Swear words will be few and far between, depending on the muse of course.

3. Considering the fandom, violence is to be expected.

4. Open to AUs, canon, crossovers if I know the fandom, etc.

5. If you do not specify a muse in asks, you are automatically going to get Urahara as a response (unless another muse feels inclined to answer, but it’s usually Urahara anyways)

6. Highly Selective and private. If we are not mutuals, I will not interact in threads or one-liners. You can send in asks, but that will not guarantee a response. 

7. I do not interact with OCs, with a few exceptions: if we already know each other and have spoken for quite some time, and have had at least one semi-long thread together. Then, and only then, will I interact with your OC. Otherwise, please do not approach me. 

Shipping

8.Multi-ship for any gender. But there has to  be chemistry. Different muses have different sexualities as well, so make sure to discuss with me.

9.TO BE REPEATED FOR THE BACK: THERE MUST BE CHEMISTRY BETWEEN OUR MUSES FOR ANY AND ALL SHIPPING! There must also be chemistry between us muns, if I don’t feel as though we get along, then there won’t be a ship!

10. Any sexual or romantic relationships between muses where there is not chemistry are not ok with me! ALSO! Any/all ships of that sort where it may not necessarily be healthy, ie forced/hypnotism/etc are included amongst those that I am not comfortable with doing. One of the few exceptions is Gin/Izuru, and that is only because Izuru will be eagerly consenting.

11. No hypnotism interactions at all unless it is Aizen, and we have discussed beforehand. Not only that, but when I say hypnotism in regards to Aizen, I mean it in the context of what his zanpakuto does: changes your senses, but does not make you his slave.

12. If you are a minor, just leave. Close the tab, and get off of my blog. I will not interact with you. If your muse is a minor, we may have some discussion. In general, I am very uncomfortable with child muses. My definition of minor, for muns at the very least, is if you are BELOW THE AGE OF 21.

Courtesy

13.  If we start interacting and at any point you decide to unfollow, I will not hunt you down to demand a response or anything like that. Once I notice that you have unfollowed, I will just quietly unfollow in return and go about my business. In return, I ask that you grant me the same courtesy if I choose to unfollow first for any reason.

14. If you are the type who likes to plot, that is fine. I myself am someone who sets the muses loose and see what happens, but I can plot too. I am flexible that way.

15. Please keep in mind that mun is a fulltime student, and also have health problems and other RL situations that can sometimes get in the way. Replies can take a while, so please be patient.

16. When you reply to something I have tagged you in, such as a thread, or if you have replied to one of my asks, I will sometimes, if not always like it. The like is my way of letting you know that I have seen it, and that I will be working on my own reply (or moving it to a thread in the case of asks) as soon as I am able. In other words: it’s your sign that it is now either in my drafts or queue. But I don’t always remember to like it, as my memory is fault at best. Please feel free to come and ask me if I’ve seen it!

17. Another thing to note is that most if not all of these muses have a tendency to interact with each other. I will try to tag things appropriately, and please let me know when there is a muse that you would not like to interact with so I can try to avoid letting them poke their noses into threads that they don’t belong in.

18. My memory is extremely fickle, because of a variety of things that I have been through over the years. I will not always remember to tag things, between how little triggers me and the fact that I forget more often than not, so please proceed with caution. If you need me to tag something, let me know. If it is down in writing (typed) in a chat or something where I can look over it again, there is a better chance of me remembering. But also remember that it is up to you to remind me if I mess up, especially since I am warning you now about my memory. Be polite and respectful, and I will grant the same in return. I am only human and I will do my best to accommodate you, but it is not my job to remember all of anyone’s triggers, it is up to you to remind me if needed, or have them somewhere that I can find easily.

19. I myself am not triggered by a whole lot, but I will ask you to please tag things like sexual assault. On a good day I can handle it just fine, on a bad day I cannot, and if I am caught off-guard by it (IE an ask sent that talks about it) without necessarily expecting to see it, that can and will trigger me. Most anything else is fair game, though you can always come and ask me.

Blocking

19. I will reserve the right to block you if at any point I begin to feel uncomfortable, if you break my rules despite multiple warnings, or if I find out that you are a minor and have lied about your age. I may not always let you know that you have been blocked.

20. I try to live with the “3 strikes” rule. Which is to say, I will give you two warnings if you break my rules, the third time and you will be blocked. Depending on the severity and what rule you broke or whatever reason I may have for wanting to block you, it may be either a softblock or a hardblock. 

Mun

My name is Starry, she/her, and I am of age. As mentioned previously, I am a full-time student at a university. Beyond that, there isn’t much for you to know. Should we become close and I trust you, I might tell you more.

MAIN MUSES

Izuru Kira

Shuuhei Hisagi

Kisuke Urahara

SECONDARY MUSES

Renji Abarai

Ikkaku Madarame

Gin Ichimaru

Grimmjow Jeagerjaques

Akon (Squad 12)

Rikuu Togakushi

BY REQUEST ONLY MUSES

Tesla Lindocruz

Nnoitra Gilga

Ulquiorra Cifer

Shunsui Kyoraku

Sousuke Aizen

Szayelaporro Granz

Rangiku Matsumoto

Shinji Hirako

Uryuu Ishida

Kenpachi Zaraki

Coyote Starrk

Byakuya Kuchiki

Yumichika Ayasegawa

Juushiro Ukitake

Ichigo Kurosaki

Rukia Kuchiki

Kensei Muguruma

Rojuro (Rose) Otoribashi

Interest checker

[orangetintedglasses]

( EARLY-HAPPY NEW YEAR, FRIENDS. It's been a pretty wild one around here, and not always in a good way... but I'm glad to have been here, and look forward to what the next year's gonna bring.

fr tho it's been really nice to feel involved in a community again. Been a long time since I've felt connected to other folks, and I appreciate every single one of the buddies and friends I've made in the last year, even if I'm pretty quiet about it. I know the general energy around this section of the rpc has been low due to real life and holidays, but I know things'll pick back up again and I'll do my best to approach first, too!

For 2024 I'm dedicated to being more vocal and show interest, and not assuming people I know have no problems with me would be bothered if I interacted with them. Also, I'll be switching back to selective for a brief period of time to open myself up to new interactions for a bit! Not immediately, but I'll make a post and a new promo/pinned for that when I do > v<

Tho that means I'll probably be tossing out threads that haven't had any traction in a while? From my forgetful 'out of sight, out of mind'-ass or from others (with some exceptions, and of course feel free to poke me if you want to keep something or want a reply!)

Hope you guys have a safe and happy celebration, or a quiet evening at home. See you in the New Year! )

[dacelonovae]

info post

avatar from picrew.me/en/image_maker/1920418

muses (this is a very loose list, i might write other chars and/or update this list occasionally)

astarion (baldurs gate 3)

natanael (baldurs gate 3 tav oc)

emet-selch (ffxiv)

symphanie (ffxiv wol oc)

jonathan strange (...& mr norrell)

annaleise (oc, can be in any setting)

muse grab bag (not my main muses but ill probably write them if you want to interact with them)

[bg3: shadowheart, karlach], [ffxiv: thancred, g'raha tia, venat, wuk lamat] [warframe: ordis, lotus, operator/drifter ]

rules/bios under cut

Rules

no gods no masters

happy to rp with OCs

no autoship please but we can see where things go!

some of my muses don't care about your boundaries, but i always do. if you're uncomfortable with where a thread is going please let me know and we can find a way to steer it elsewhere. that being said some of my muses can get nasty so keep that in mind

i will drop threads. often. it's not personal. if this will upset you, you might not want to write with me. but if you are really enjoying a thread and i haven't responded, feel free to poke me about it

you are welcome to interact with me whether i follow you or not

i don't rp smut, i just don't enjoy it. flirting/sexual implications/getting right up to sex and ending a thread or cutting to the next scene are all fine i just don't want to go into detail. if you're not sure where the line is here feel free to push it, i'll cut it off myself if i don't want to continue the scene.

please specify a character if you send me an ask meme or something. even if that specification is a choice of chars or 'pick whoever you want.'

fwiw coming from my own fingers i consider myself to be a patient and considerate person so please don't be afraid of interacting with me either as you or your muses, and please ask me any questions you'd like if you want to clarify a thread or anything like that.

Bios

Me!: over 21, they/them

astarion: (he/him) i mean, he's astarion. but if you'd like: ~250 yr old bitchy vampire who is various levels of selfish depending on what part of his life you meet him in. very pretty and flirty and is incredibly picky about who he lets touch him, though has a habit of crossing his own boundaries. probably wants to bite you. white hair, pale skin, a bit too skinny. cares about his appearance but doesn't have the means to dress as fine as he'd like.

natanael: (he/him) chill cleric of ilmater (tl;dr god of mercy to those who suffer) who grew up in the streets and came to the church who helped him survive his childhood. half human, half drow. probably the equivalent of mid-thirties in human years. just kind of a nice guy who likes to help others. dark hair, gray skin. dresses very practically.

emet-selch(/hades): (he/him) world's oldest tsundere. thinks he's better than you and your entire species. extremely powerful mage. thousands of years old. technically can shapeshift but doesn't bother usually. has been sulking since before humans invented the written word. frown lines, perpetual hunch.

symphanie(/azem): (she/her) viera adventurer who may or may not have saved the world/universe depending on timelines. grew up in an isolated hut in the forest with her loving parents. has learned to be friendly with people but can still be a bit awkward at times. human equivalent of mid-20s. long white hair, dark skin. a little over 6' tall. enjoys feminine clothing but often dresses practically due to her general lifestyle.

jonathan strange: (he/him) 20~30. canon set in the early 1800s. a self-assured and distractible upper class boy at his 20s, grows into a devoted academic and powerful magician. dark-haired, handsome but not boringly so, very english (sorry). cares about his appearance and has the means to keep it up but not always the attention span. comes off as out of touch and privileged at times, but is surprisingly adept at making friends with people from all walks of life.

annaleise: (she/her) ~30 (sometimes literally, sometimes appearance-wise). originally came out of playing with mary-sue tropes so some of those are still present. uptight and appearance-focused, both physically and socially. comes from an Important Family TM but is a younger and generally ignored daughter -- doesn't have as much clout as she acts like she does. around 5' 4" ish, likes to wear heels to appear taller. very long (~thigh length) hair that is either pastel pink or strawberry blonde if pink hair is not reasonable in the setting. i throw her around in different 'verses. some include her being a vampire in the forgotten realms; a vampire in modern day (turned in the mid 1800s); an out of place crewmember on a small janky spaceship. i can fit her in to just about any setting. i will probably spell her name differently on accident. don't worry about it