#for a grand total for 3 weeks and bit

[landosjpg]

fall back together | ln

the one where your ex-boyfriend invites you to spend a few days with him, but you two still have feelings for each other.

lando norris x fem!reader

word count: ~2.5k

warnings: pining, the tiniest bit of fluff i believe, language, smut, oral (f recieving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cockwarming

note: ehhh i don't really know how to feel about this but i wanted to post something, once again not proofread! also i have a looooong flight later this week so pls send in some requests so i can entertain myself during it! <3

you and lando had dated for a little over two years when you decided to call it quits. it wasn't messy; you two had mutually decided to stay as friends. and for the few months that you had been just that, it had worked well so far.

that's why lando had decided to invite you over for the monaco grand prix, insisting that you should spend a few days prior with him so you two could catch up and spend some time together.

as friends, of course.

it took him a few days to convince you, but you finally agreed. and that's why you found yourself walking down the corridor that led to his apartment, suitcase in hand. you could hear his giggles already from the other side of the hall, the sound bringing a smile to your face.

as you opened the door with the keys that he had insisted you should keep after breaking up, for emergencies (even when you lived in a total different country), you heard him talking.

"hey, chat!" you heard him say. you should've guessed he would use his days at home to stream like he used to. "guess who's here!"

you smiled as you walked to the room he was in. the fans had always loved you; you saw the edits they made of your relationship, how everyone used to lose their minds over the way you two looked at each other when you decided to make an appearance on one of his streams.

utterly in love.

and of course, you saw how everyone couldn't believe it when he had announced the end of your relationship.

it's not like any of you had expected it either, but you knew it was for the best or the relationship would consume one of you. but you were happy you had managed to make a friendship work, not really wanting to lose lando. and of course, his fans were excited to see you again.

he turned his chair around as you entered the room, his smile widening as soon as he saw you. you walked his way, happily waving at the camera. normally, he would grab your waist and pull you into his lap.

but this time he didn't.

so you stood there, right next to his chair. and as much as you knew that was how things were, it didn't fell completely right to you.

"i think i'm gonna head to bed," you interrupted after a few minutes in which you talked with him and with the viewers, answering a few questions just like you used to do before everything went down.

but after a long flight and a taxi ride to his house, you felt exhausted and all you wanted was to lie down and call it a day.

lando reached to mute his mic before he could answer you, turning to look at your face as he spoke.

"take my bed, i'll sleep in the spare room," he said. you were certain that the fans would try to decipher what you were saying later, but you didn't really care.

you thought about what he was proposing. it would feel weird, sleeping in his bed without him, so you weren't really convinced about it. and he must had seen it in your face, because before you could say anything, he added:

"come on, y/n". you're tired and the spare bed isn't even made," he looked at you with soft, pleading eyes.

you knew he still wanted the best for you, so you sighed in defeat and accepted his offer with a nod of your head.

after saying goodbye to the chat, you left the room to get ready for bed. as you went through your daily night routine in the bathroom, you noticed how everything you had left there behore the break-up was still in its place.

it looked like you had never left.

you tried not to think too much about it, there could be multiple reasons why he had decided to keep all your stuff. he definitely had moved on, right? it had been months since you two ended things.

you brushed it off, not really wanting it to get to your head and then walked to his room. everything was just like you remembered. damn, he even kept some pictures of you on his wall.

with your pajamas on, you climbed into his bed and covered your body with the soft sheets, the smell of him quickly washing all over you.

you rolled around with a sigh, the bed feeling way too big now that he wasn't next to you to wrap hismself around you. you were unable to sleep as your mind filled with all the nights spent in that exact same mattress between laughs, kisses and endless conversations.

you missed the feeling of his arms around your waist, the sound of his snores and the warmth of his body enveloping you every night.

with your mind racing with all the memories that wouldn't leave your brain, you realized it had been hours since you got in bed when you checked the time on your phone. the house was completely silent by that moment, so you figured lando was already asleep.

you sighed and got up, wandering to the kitchen silentely to not wake him up, with the intention of making yourself a tea that would hopefully help you sleep.

୨୧

sat on the counter, you contemplated the city lights with a warm mug of tea in your hands. the only light that illuminated the kitchen was te one that came out of your room. lando's room.

you were lost in your own thoughts, so you didn't notice his figure walking towards you.

"is that seat taken?" his voice made you jump a little in surprise, swearing under your breath as you turned to look at him, simply shaking your head in response. "sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he added with a chuckle, sitting on the stool right next to you.

you didn't really know what to say, so silence fell between you two while you just stared at each other. despite of it being dark, you could appreciate his messy curls, the spark on his eyes and the sly smile that beautifully decorated his lips.

"can't slep?" his voice was low and tender as he brokw the silence.

"bed feels too big."

at your answer, he just nodded. he kept quiet for a few seconds, pensive, and you could see that he was wondering wheter what he was about to say was appropriate or not.

"you know, as much as it hurts... i'm happy that you're moving on," he finally broke the silence, his words hitting you like a truck.

"i'm not... what do you mean?" you asked in confussion, but your mind was more focused on the fact that the possibility of you moving on hurt him.

"i've seen the pictures."

despite of the sadness that his whisper hid, you knew he wasn't mad at you. he had always said that he wanted you to be happy, whether it was with or without him.

silly of him to think that anyone else could ever make you as happy as he once did.

"just a friend," you mumbled, knowing that he was talking about the guy in your latest posts. but he was nothing more than a friend to you, not even close. "not really my type," you joked, earning a little smile from his lips.

once again, the silence felt deafening as he didn't give you an answer. your nerves were starting to kick in and so, in an attempt to try and make it feel less awkward between you two, you gazed back to the window.

"do you ever miss me?" he whispered again seconds later, the simple question making you freeze.

the answer was easy: yes, like crazy. but you couldn't just say that.

as he waited for you to reply, you felt his eyes on you, curious about what you would answer. and you swore he could hear your heart racing in your chest.

"sometimes, yeah," you finally decided to give him the truth.

or part of it, because confessing that it hadn't been a day in which he didn't cross your mind at least twice a day made you feel too exposed and vulnerable.

you halted when you felt his hand creeping up your legs slowly, stopping when he reached your thigh.

"i miss you, too," his murmur sent you a shiver down your spine, and he was looking up at you from where he was sitting, with puppy eyes.

you knew damn well what those words meant, and you felt your heart breaking at your own answer.

" i don't think it's a good idea, lan," you murmured, not able to hold his gaze for long.

"i know", he uttered, and you felt him sigh, but his hand stayed in your leg. "i'm sorry."

when you heard his simple apology, you closed yout eyes and tried to keep your tears from falling down your cheeks, but you failed miserably.

you knew he was apologizing for not being his best self during the last weeks of your relationship. at first, you had tried to convince yourself it only was a rough patch, but it was burning you down.

and, when you asked him for some time, he agreed. he knew he hadn't been the best boyfriend to you during that time, and he hated seeing you suffer because of him. so he ultimately decided to set you free.

"i'll never take you for granted again," he whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping the tears that fell down your face.

you hadn't noticed that he had stoop up from the stool and positioned himself between your legs, but having him so close again made your heart feel warm. and you looked down, knowing that if your eyes met his green orbits you'd throw yourself back right into his arms.

"lan..."

"i swear, y/n," he interrupted you; you could see his eyes were also watery, tears threatening to come out as well, but he held them back as he kept talking. "i know i fucked up, but it won't happen again."

closing your eyes, you sighed. your fingers softly wrapped around his wrist as you kept silently crying.

"please," his whisper made you sob, wanting nothing more than to go back in time and never let go of him. "i promise."

as you took in his words, your hand slid to his neck and he rested his forehead against yours. your breaths were mixing together and you nodded your head slightly, giving him your final answer with that small gesture.

before you could think about it, his lips were on yours. soft, just as you remembered, and you could taste both your tears on his lips. he kissed you slowly, tenderly, as if he didn't want you to slip out of his fingers again.

and you knew he didn't.

"i've missed this," he sighed in between kisses, pulling you a little closer, his arms now wrapped around your waist. "i've missed you, baby."

at the sweet pet name that you never thought you'd be hearing from his lips again, you exhaled with a smile.

"want to join me in bed?" you asked in a whisper, your fingers softly brushing against the skin of his neck. you wanted nothing more than to sleep next to him again, so close that one would think you two were literally attached at the hip.

"you're inviting me to my bed?" he chuckled as his arms went lower on your body, pulling you closer and picking you up from the counter.

"our bed," you corrected him with a giggle of your own.

he planted a soft kiss on your lips and walked you back to his room, wrapped in his arms. he lied you down on the mattress gently, keeping his body over yours. your gazes locked for a few seconds before his lips attacked yours hungrily, the tenderness of the previous interactions now long gone.

your hands roamed all over each other's bodies, clothes soon flying everywhere as both your breaths got heavier.

he started trailing small, wet kisses down your breasts and torso, his hands carefully pulling your underwear down your legs. he spread your open for him and positioned himself between your thighs, looking up at you from the edge of the bed.

you slightly nodded, giving him permission to go on. a long sigh left your lips as soon as you felt his lips pressing a soft kiss on your sensitive bud, and your fingers instinctively got lost in his curls, urging him closer.

"you're so gorgeous, baby," he mumbled, his hot breath against your slick making you moan softly.

you felt his tongue flatten against you and he started licking your cunt as if he was starving. a smug expression plastered on his face when your back arched as his lips found your clit again and he sucked, fingers tugging on his hair.

"fuck, lando..." you stuttered, your legs closing around his head as you felt the knot on your lower stomach about to snap. a small groan escaped his lips, his hands gripping around your thighs, surely leaving small bruises on your smooth skin.

soon, the warmth of his tongue on your pussy felt too overwhelming and your orgasm didn't take long to wash over you, leaving you a moaning mess under his touch.

as you came down from your climax, he got rid of his boxers and hovered over you again, his lips finding yours once more. as you tasted yourself on his tongue, you hummed contently into the kiss, your fingers finding their wait to his curls again.

"you alright, love?" he gently asked, taking a minute to look into your eyes.

"need you inside of me," you panted, your legs hooking at each side of his body as you pulled him closer.

he locked his lips with yours as he teased your folds with his cock, both of you moaning into the other's mouth at the friction. he positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed inside of you, letting you adjust to his size.

"so fucking tight for me, baby," his voice sounded breathless as he started thrusting into you without a hurry.

he took it slow, his movements almost lazy but deep.

and god, did it feel good.

you held each other tightly as he kept that slow pace that you two seemed to be enjoying. he reveled in the way your sweet moans filled the room and your nails drew crescent moons on his shoulders, your face contorting in pleasure as he stretched you out deliciously.

feeling your second orgasm starting to build up, your pussy clamped down on him, drawing him even deeper inside of you; which resulted in a low grunt from his lips.

"baby, i'm gonna... fuck..." you whimpered, unable to even form a proper sentence as the pressure in your lower stomach increased again.

"look at me, love," he groaned, and you did as he had asked.

with your gazes locked in each other's, it only took the two of you a few strokes to come undone, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt him cumming inside of you and leaving you weak under his body.

he collapsed on top of you, a little winded as he left a sweet kiss on your lips before moving to lay down on the mattres, pulling you with him.

"i love you," he uttered, his arms wrapped tightly around your body as he kept his cock buried deep inside of you.

"i love you, lan," you mumbled, your face finding the spot between his jaw and his shoulder as you caught your breath, feeling yourself slowly drifting off to sleep with your nose nuzzled on his neck.

[halfvalid]

the blade daughter, pt. 3

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 7.3k this part

description: you finally soothe the uncertainty you've had surrounding going out and making a life of your own. somewhere inside, you find the bravery to finally tell zoro how you'd feel about him.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, kissing, confessions, a lil suggestive at the end

author’s note: ANDDDD SHE'S DONE!!! this was a wild 8 day long ride of writing, i'm a bit uncertain about the ending so please tell me what you thought of it!! hopefully you liked the fic, thank u so so much for reading.

The two of you emerged from the room a little while later. You’d finished cleaning up, and Zoro had kept you company as you cleaned both his swords and Hiru. The both of you walked together afterwards, wandering into the kitchen where Sanji had whipped up a meal. 

“We’re close to the Grand Line,” Nami reported, having apparently steered the ship far enough away from the other pirates to leave the helm alone. “Should reach the mountain by early morning.” She glanced over at you. “Kuraigana Island first, right?” 

“Yeah,” you affirmed. “The Grand Line is… screwed, though.”

“We’ll be fine,” Luffy said brightly. You just shrugged, taking a seat at the table. “Zoro! Did you get everything cleaned up?” Zoro had changed into a fresh shirt, one not so bloodstained, and he gave a curt nod. “Good. Come and eat so we can get ready for tomorrow?” 

Sanji passed you a bowl, and you let out a thin breath. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered how and when this had become your norm—it’d been a week with the Straw Hats, now, and— 

You dropped your chopsticks in your hand. It’d been a week. “Fuck,” you said, the word dropping out from between your lips before you could stop them. Your entire body had gone rigid, pink flushing up your arms and face as something burned deep inside of you. 

Everyone’s heads had snapped up to look at you, matching concerned expressions on all of their faces. “I, um—” you said, scrambling up from your seat, words too big in your mouth. You opted not to finish them, dropping your sentence as you yanked your shell phone out of your jacket pocket. “Sorry, I—” 

You shook your head, hurrying out of the kitchen. The cold gust of the ocean breeze hit heavy on your face, and you let out a breath, the gust of air exhaling out of your chest in a rush. You heard footsteps behind you, but the panic hadn’t bled out of your veins entirely, and your hands shook as you tried to open your phone. 

Zoro’s hand was pressed over yours before you could snap the case open. You stared down at it, and your gaze lifted, the tremble of your hands subsiding as his warm grasp sunk deep into your skin. “What’s up?” he asked, low and steady. 

“I, um—” you swallowed hard, hitching breath soothing at his touch. “Um. It’s—I have to call my dad.” 

Zoro was serene, tone even and still. His words from before echoed around in your head, the proclamation of not having patience. It’d been untrue after all. “Did something happen?” 

“I’m supposed to have dinner with him,” you blurted. “Tonight. I’ve never missed it before. Because I’ve always been on the island, in our—I’ve never missed it before. I’ve been with you all for too long.” 

“I’m sure he’d understand,” Zoro said, though his hand didn’t fall from yours. He paused, lips parted as his eyes ran along your face. “Or is it something you’re upset about?” 

“I don’t have friends,” you whispered, words fierce. “I don’t go places. I stay at home. This life isn’t mine. It’s—” 

“I don’t think you should dictate what you do based on what your father does,” Zoro interrupted. His tone wasn’t harsh, exactly—but it was strong, tone firm, jaw set as he spoke. “So you miss one dinner. So you’re out and about for longer than a week. Does it matter?” 

Does it matter? Your heart pounded in your chest, and you took in a steady breath, trying to soothe the adrenaline that still pulsed in your veins even now. “I don’t… I’m not used to this,” you admitted, somehow managing to keep the contact of your eyes even as your brain screamed at you to look away. “I’m not used to being away from home.” 

“Everyone starts somewhere,” Zoro said. 

You hesitated. His hand moved carefully away from yours, nudging your fingers to open the phone. Your gaze dropped, staring at the little snail waiting for you inside, nestled in his little bed of velvet. You picked it up, tucking it into your ear as your shaking hands dialed Mihawk’s number. 

He answered on the first ring. “Hello there, darling,” he said, and you closed your eyes, a soft exhale leaving your lungs at his voice. “Are you calling me about dinner? I’ll be there in a few hours, I promise. Just finishing up over here.” 

“No, actually, um—” you cut yourself off, teeth coming down to halt your tongue. You opened your eyes, turning to glance tentatively over at Zoro. Does it matter? he had asked. Which… it did, right? You weren’t a part of the Straw Hats. You hadn’t joined their crew; you’d been insistent on that, pushing away any idea of a life out at sea in exchange for the comfort and familiarity of your home lifestyle. But you’d been making bonds with them despite, and helping them out with their ship, and fighting alongside them in battle. And you’d just patched up Zoro’s wounds a mere hour earlier. You didn’t make friends.

But you were making them. 

“I’m not going to dinner this week,” you said, the words all slurred as they spilled from your mouth. There was a pause of surprise on Mihawk’s line before he spoke again. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling Zoro’s gaze on you. 

“Finally departed from the nest, have you, darling?” Mihawk said. His voice was soft—tender, almost. “Very well, then. Any idea when you’ll be on the island next, or shall we keep it a suspended date?” 

“I should be home in a few days,” you said, voice hitching in your breath. “I’ll—I’ll call you! I don’t know what I’m going to do afterwards, but I’ll—I’m not going to just disappear.” 

“Well, of course,” Mihawk said simply. You tightened the squeeze of your eyes, trying to suppress the tingling prickles at your waterline. “I’m glad you’re making friends, dear.” 

You made a face, letting out a breathy scoff. A defense mechanism, really. “Don’t get mushy on me, old man.” 

“Me? Mushy?” There was a staticky scoff crackling over from Mihawk’s side of the line. It was such a simple conversation, so—why was it driving you to tears? “I could never, darling, do you even know me? I’ve got to fly, anyway—there’s some pesky pirates around here I’ve got to deal with.” 

“Bye, dad,” you said, the words choking up your throat, all raggedy at the edges, too big as you shoved them up and through your mouth. They grazed your tongue, but the points weren’t edges; they didn’t draw blood. “I—um.” 

The Dracules did not say I love you. Your father was doting, certainly, but he expressed his affection in far more unspoken ways. Presents from all four Blues. A weapon of the highest caliber quality when you were thirteen. Personal lessons in sword fighting. The murder of anyone who dared send an off look in your direction. 

“Me too, little hawk,” Mihawk said simply. “Now go have fun.” 

The den den mushi let out a soft little croak, signaling that Mihawk had hung up. You let your hand fall, the fingers holding the case of your phone going slack. Air punctured your lungs as you inhaled, the salty, crisp breeze loosening your muscles with every breath. 

“Are you alright?” Zoro asked. The words were gruff, awkward. Like he wasn’t used to saying them. You tightened your grip on your case, and then tugged the snail out of your ear, setting it carefully back where it belonged. You met Zoro’s gaze, heart thudding a bit faster as you saw flickers of concern in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I think I am.” 

The sun shone bright on your face, the weather of the Grand Line being more forgiving today as the ship sailed carefully through the ocean. Your route was still towards Kuraigana Island, although you were growing more split about it by the second. You’d just had a conversation with Mihawk a day or so ago about you not being at the house—and the fact that you’d have to choose whether to go home and potentially never see the Straw Hats again was a decision that gripped heavy at your heart. 

“Looks like you’ve got a lot on your mind.” You glanced up to see Zoro at your side, forearms propping at the Going Merry’s railing as he gazed out at the ocean. You shrugged, eyes flickering down his side profile before falling back to your hands. 

“I don’t know,” you said. “Just thinking about what to do, I guess.” 

Zoro fixed you with a look. “You should try not doing that.” 

A startled laugh escaped your throat. “What? Thinking?” 

“It gets old,” Zoro said with a firm nod, brow slightly creased to shield his eyes from the sun. “I’d recommend dropping it for at least a few hours. You’re getting wrinkles.” One of his hands moved upwards to nudge against your forehead, and you ducked, another laugh gracing the edges of your lips. 

“Right,” you said, dubious. “How are your wounds?” 

“I’ve taken worse,” Zoro said with a shrug. “Though I guess I’ve still got that one, huh.” He grimaced, lips tugging back to bare his teeth into a scowl. It took him a while to speak again, and you turned your gaze back towards the ocean, waiting for the unspoken words to leave his lips. Minutes ticked by, but you just basked in the sun, trying to air your mind of any thoughts. Maybe Zoro had a point, there—sometimes it really wasn’t necessary to think at all. 

When Zoro finally spoke, his words were quiet; muttered under his breath. You had to strain to hear them, as the thin ocean breeze swallowed them up almost immediately. “I really thought I could beat him.” 

You huffed out a breath, unsure of what to say. Unsure if Zoro even wanted you to say anything. Your grip on the boat’s railing tightening, palm running across the soft wood. You found words falling out of your mouth anyway, though, although you yourself were surprised by them—“You can.” 

Zoro glanced up at you, surprised. “Maybe not now,” you hastened to say, not wanting to add to his clearly already-inflated ego. “But you’re good. You’re good enough to beat him, eventually. In a few years, given the proper time and training. I think…” You swallowed down the phlegm in your throat, alarmed by how wet your voice was starting to sound. You took in a breath, steadying your tone, making certain your voice wasn’t quite so thin or reedy. “I think that’s what scares me about you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Zoro said, all low and hushed. You just shrugged. 

“I don’t mind,” you answered. You felt his eyes on you, burning like a sun on fire, like the stars dotting his skin were crisping over your skin, charred and burnt and broken. Or maybe it wasn’t quite so destructive. Maybe it was a tender fire, crowning a pile of wood and cared for with iron stakes, embers glowing deep in the night to keep warmth fueling a pot of soup, or healing ragged hands after a long battle. 

“Let me get you a drink.”

Zoro disappeared. He returned with a flask, handing it over to you after unscrewing its cap. You knocked it back—it was rich but bland, all dry and earthy. Sake. You’d pegged him more as a beer guy. “Thanks.” 

Zoro’s gaze didn’t move from your figure. It was warm, you decided then. The swordsman was vicious at times, relentless in his fight, sinewy figure slashing cuts into flesh as he sparred with his enemies. But there was a distinction behind the hot, heavy iron of those glares at the look at which he placed upon you now. You couldn’t go as far to say his eyes were tender, or soft. But they were warm. Fire was a calamitous thing, but it had its blessings. 

“Let me take you out,” Zoro said suddenly. Your entire body froze, murmurs of warmth and tingling buzzes pricking up and down your spine. Something inside you lurched—no, it didn’t lurch, didn’t have the unpleasant sensation associated with it. It was softer, burning, guttural. Like a sharp knife cutting straight through your abdomen, sliding into your stomach, prying apart the bones like they were putty. Your chest squeezed inwards, heart pulsating with soft pangs of something. Hunger; desire, maybe. Yearning. 

“Why?” you asked. Zoro just shrugged, effortlessly casual in his movements. You saw a hitch in his throat, a flicker of something in his eyes, a strain in his jaw. Not so effortless after all. “Actually, more importantly—where?” 

“I’ll figure something out,” Zoro answered. “Is that a yes?” 

You turned, glancing up at him tentatively. “I’m not used to this sort of thing,” you said carefully. Zoro just shrugged. He still looked effortless, all guarded, but you could see the tremors and quivers underneath. 

“Neither am I.” 

You pursed your lips, raising your face to let the sun glow down onto your skin. “I have a rule, though,” you said, voice lifting up, more of a tease now. There was a ghost of a smile at the edge of your words, although your mouth wasn’t shaped in one. It was hesitant, careful not to scare you, really; creeping on you inch by inch. “I can’t go out with men who haven’t beaten me in combat.” 

Zoro snorted. “I have beaten you,” he said. “But if you want a rematch—” 

“Let’s not strain your injuries too much.” Zoro let out a scoff, but it was light-hearted, laced with amusement. You just shook your head, the dawning smile at the edges of your lips now, tugging them softly upwards. “I accept a loss when I get served one. You beat me, fair and square.”

“So I get to take you out now,” Zoro murmured, words careful, hovering in the air just barely out of his lips. He turned towards you, the sun outlining his face with a soft glow of gold and orange. He didn’t smile, but there was that soft, burning look again, lips slightly parted, taking in air. “That’s the rule, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” you said. “It is.” 

“Tonight, then,” Zoro said. “Ten. Aftercastle.” 

You spent some time contemplating what to wear. You hadn’t brought a very expansive wardrobe along with you, only the essentials, so there wasn’t much to choose from—just some shirts and pants, no dresses or skirts in the bare bones of your luggage. You eventually picked out your favorite of the grouping, sliding your signature jacket on like usual, Hiru fastened securely in its scabbard at the back. 

Zoro was waiting at the afterdeck when you arrived, dressed in a dark wrap shirt and his usual green obi. The cloth was nicer, though: his pants were missing their usual wear and tear, and his shirt looked to be made of finer cotton. “Hi,” you said, slipping up next to him. The tangerine tree’s leaves brushed at your ear, and you glanced up at it. The fruit was ripe, round and as bright orange as Nami’s hair. 

“Hey,” Zoro replied. One of his forearms was propped against the afterdeck railing, and the other wrapped around the side. You put your hand beside his, pinky just inches away from his. “Do you know any constellations?” 

“Some,” you said, squinting up at the sky. You could point a few of them out, but not many—the sky was cloudy tonight, most of the stars blocked out by dull puffs of gray and blue. “You?” 

“No,” Zoro answered. “Was never really interested in that kind of thing.” He glanced over at you. You’d turned your attention on the trees, again, plucking one of the tangerines off the branches. The tree trembled, its leaves quivering with soft swaying motions. You dug your nails into the flesh, peeling it carefully. “Why’d you just stay home?” 

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “My dad used to not let me leave. He stayed with me until I was maybe twelve, for the most part. Then he started going out more, but he didn’t want me to come. Something about it being dangerous. He dropped the ban when I was sixteen, but…” you hesitated, tucking the shredded pieces of tangerine peels in your pocket. “I just kind of stuck with it, I guess.” 

“Weren’t you lonely?” 

“Kind of.” You broke the orange in half, moving on to pick at the pith with your fingernails. You gathered that up, too, little white lines piling up in the crease of your palm. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

“He always wanted me to leave, I think,” you said. “To find my own life. I was always happy staying there with him, though. Or waiting for him.” 

“You wouldn’t be abandoning him by leaving,” Zoro said. 

“Logically, I know that.” You peeled a piece of orange off from a half, offering it to Zoro. He took it, carefully pushing it between his teeth. He broke skin, a burst of piquant citrus juice dripping on his lower lip. Your eyes lingered there a moment too long, but you looked away a second later, speaking again. “I think it’s just a habit, really. I worry.” 

“I mean, he’s a Warlord of the Sea. I think he can take care of himself.” 

“It’s not that I’m worried about,” you said with a sigh. You popped a slice of orange in your mouth, sucking at the tart juice. “I don’t want him to get lonely.” 

“That’s not really your responsibility,” Zoro answered. His pinky crept closer to your hand, from where you’d returned your grip on the railing. His touch was feather-light, a soft breath of skin against skin that was there and gone again within a moment. “Did you think any more about it?” 

“I didn’t,” you said. “Took a page out of your book.” 

“It’ll come to you eventually,” Zoro said. “Like that one Shanks guy said—actually, I don’t remember the quote. Ask Luffy about it in the morning. He’ll probably go on for a few hours.” 

You snorted. “You’re kind of bad at giving advice, Zoro.” The name came easily, and you stopped, feeling the syllables on your teeth. It was comforting. Natural. 

Zoro seemed a tad bit offended by that. “At least I’m trying,” he muttered, voice defensive but not hostile. “Onto lighter topics?” 

You popped another tangerine slice in your mouth. “Like what?” 

“Nothing light about my life, so I’ve got no idea.” You snorted, choking on the orange that’d made its way halfway down the passage of your throat. You coughed, shaky laughs escaping your lips as you cleared your airways. An amused smile had perched on Zoro’s face, eyes glimmering with warmth as he watched you.

“That was unnecessarily edgy,” you protested. You finished with your tangerine, letting the pith flutter out of your palm, some of the white floss sticking. You didn’t mind it. 

“Got a laugh out of you, didn’t it?” Zoro nudged you, the skin of his finger pressing fully against your pinky. This time, he didn’t move away, letting the warmth of his skin bleed into yours. 

“You never answered my question.” You raised your pinky, lifting it to brush against Zoro’s knuckle. Carefully, you slipped it into the gap of his interdigit, looping your fingers together so they were intertwined. Zoro exhaled shakily—you glimpsed his other arm moving away from the railing, lowering to his side. “Why you wanted me out here, I mean.” 

Zoro pulled up a flask, unscrewing the cap with one hand. He didn’t drink, though, just held the bottle suspended in his hand. He didn’t say anything for a while, letting the soft rush of water from below and the tranquil rocking of the boat fill the silence. For a moment you thought he wasn’t going to say anything at all. To your surprise, though, he raised the flask to his lips, taking a short sip before letting his hand fall again. “You feel different.” 

“Care to be a little less vague?” 

“I don’t know if I can,” Zoro said carefully. His guard was up, that much was sure. You didn’t exactly blame him. “Things have changed since I joined Luffy. Sometimes I can’t describe it.” 

“The crew,” you said. “It makes sense.” 

“It does,” Zoro agreed. There was something magnetic about it, about him—something that drew you in. But you weren’t afraid of it, really. The Straw Hats weren’t scary. Their bared teeth weren’t fangs; their canines remained unsharpened at their maw. Their lure was more peaceful than that. “We like you. You fit in.” He paused, mouth slightly ajar, a tremor of something on his lower lip. “I like you.” 

Your lungs were empty, devoid of air. Something in your chest clawed at you, trying to climb up your throat, compressing your organs. Zoro’s touch burned into you, interlocked fingers searching an imprint in your skin. You were certain you’d feel it for hours; days; months; years after. “I think I like you too,” you said. 

“Well, you like my earrings,” Zoro said easily. “That’s a start.” 

You turned towards him, at his open stance, tucking yourself in the space between his figure at the side of the ship. The motion forced Zoro to raise your hands away from the railing, but he slid with the action easily, fingers fully interlacing with yours. His other arm remained propped along the ship, flask in his fingers, the skin of his forearm brushing against your side. Your free hand raised up to skim along his earrings, dull clinks of the metal sounding out at the emotion. “I do like your earrings.” 

“Enough to let me kiss you?” 

You tugged gently at Zoro’s earlobe, angling your face up to meet his. “Yeah.” 

Zoro kissed you square on the mouth, mouth full and open, hand slipping around your back. The edge of his sake flask dug into your spine, but it wasn’t a sharp pain, and you didn’t mind it. Your fingers tightened against Zoro’s, chasing his lips with yours, letting him swallow you whole. He was patient with it, smooth and languid; tongue licking into the crevices of your mouth, firm as he mouthed kisses at the lines of your lips. 

You breathed in from his lungs, chest getting tight as he sucked the air clean out of you. Still, you were addicted, utterly devoted as his fingers nudged against your hand and his tongue skimmed along your mouth. He was a good kisser, effortless and smooth, nearly elegant with his motions. He tasted like sake; earthy, woodsy, reminiscent of some sort of mushroom, maybe. It suited him well. 

You let out a little whimper as Zoro’s tongue pressed deep to your throat, and he swallowed it up, flicking lazily along the roof of your mouth. You were getting short of breath, though, so you placed a gentle litany of faint kisses along his mouth before tilting your head back and letting the night air puncture your lungs. Zoro’s pupils had gone wide, deep black swallowing the walnut of his irises. His hand pulsed against yours, steady as ever, but he didn’t speak.

“I like more than your jewelry,” you said, staring down at where your fingers tangled with his. They looked like two pieces of a puzzle, extremities manipulated to slot along each other, palms molded together. “I like the way you move, and the way you fight. I like your face.” You hesitated, playing with Zoro’s fingertips to distract you from your words. 

“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro said. 

“No, I think I do.” A ghost of a smile flickered up your mouth; a corpse, really, one that had forgotten it wasn’t really dead after all. “I like you, Roronoa Zoro.” 

Zoro’s fingers squeezed tighter against yours. There was no click, no noise of finality, no settlement of a suspended thread. You supposed it didn’t work like that. Life didn’t stop and end. You went on. You’d see Zoro in the morning, again, after you’d gone to sleep, and things would continue like normal. “Okay,” he said. “Late enough for you to go to bed, yet?” 

“I could go either way,” you answered. “Staying out here wouldn’t be so bad either.” 

“Fine by me,” Zoro said, not moving from where he stood. “So, Lady Dracule. Where to next?” 

“Wherever the breeze takes me,” you answered, but there was a decision settling down in your chest. One you weren’t so afraid to look at anymore. 

Kuraigana Island was just as you’d left it, sky dark as night even in the middle of the day, rotted ground crunching dust and rocks underneath your feet. The Going Merry had docked in one of the number of homemade boat berths Mihawk had made sometime in your youth. 

Usopp let out a low whistle as the Straw Hats stepped onto the island, head practically turning around in a 180 degree spin as he craned his neck to look around. “You live here?” 

“It’s quaint,” you said defensively. 

Nami gave you a sympathetic look. “It really isn’t.”

“Why is the sky black?” Luffy murmured in amazement, casting his gaze upwards to the overhang of rumbling clouds that existed perpetually over the island. “Have you never seen sun in your life?” 

You rolled your eyes, leading them through the gravelly path up to your house. Their reactions were, well, nothing short of the expected—Sanji’s eyebrows lifted, and Zoro let out a low whistle as he took in the sight. 

“It’s like Kaya’s house,” Usopp breathed. “But… bigger. And more spiky!” 

“It needs a paint job,” Nami deadpanned. You snorted. 

“I’ve been trying to get him to renovate for forever. Good luck.” You cleared your throat, suddenly awkward as the group walked closer and closer to the house. Your footsteps slowed, until you came to a full stop a few meters off the front door. The Straw Hats grouped around you, curious. “Just… don’t be weird, please. Nami, don’t steal anything unless it looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in thirty years. I only bother to polish the important stuff.” 

“Is that an open invitation to rob your house?” Nami asked with a snort.

“Do you have any food?” Luffy asked. 

“Probably not. My dad can’t cook for shit. Sanji can make something,” you said. “Our kitchen’s kinda nice.” 

“Working in a Warlord’s kitchen? I’d be honored,” Sanji said, with a little flourish of his hand. You rolled your eyes, but Luffy at least seemed satisfied. You glanced over at Zoro, who was the only one of the group who hadn’t said anything up to now—his lips were set into a thin line, but he met your gaze, and they flickered upwards just a quarter of an inch. The action was reassuring, almost, and you were soothed enough to start walking again.

The door flung open before you reached it, although the sudden motion didn’t startle you like it did to your compatriots. Dracule Mihawk stood in the doorway, dressed in his usual hat and jacket, Yoru heavy off his shoulders like usual. “I thought I heard footsteps,” your father trilled, voice wonderfully monotone as he bent in front of you, taking your hand to press a gentle kiss upon your knuckles. “Have you brought your friends along, darling?” 

“Clearly,” you said with a soft laugh. It was like all the tension evaporated from your body as soon as your father got near, and you found his hand, giving it a tight squeeze before turning to your friends. “Do you need introductions, or do you know them all already?” 

“I only remember the future pirate king and the swordsman,” Mihawk said with a dismissive wave. “Oh, and Yasopp’s child. It’s no matter, really. Well, come on in, you’re letting in the cold air.” 

Usopp stuttered something incomprehensible about his father, but Mihawk had already disappeared. You glanced over your shoulder at the rest of the Straw Hats. “He’s like that,” you said apologetically. “Just… come in.”

They followed you into the house, glancing around the lobby to take in the decor. You had to admit, a lot of it was rather gaudy, but it wasn’t like Mihawk cared much about what adorned the walls, and you had little resources to work with. Sanji made quick work moving to the kitchen after you made sure that Mihawk hadn’t prepared dinner. 

“So,” Nami said, the words mulling around in her mouth as she lounged by the kitchen island. “Nice place.” 

“It’s kinda scary-looking,” Luffy said honestly. “Interesting choice of decoration. I guess if you like it, though.” 

“Are you okay on your own for a moment?” you asked, getting up from your seat. “I’m going to go talk to my dad.” Luffy nodded, and the others all hummed their assent. Zoro caught your gaze—soft, curious. You just gave him a reassuring smile and slipped out of the room. 

Mihawk was waiting in the living room, long body stretched supine along the couch, booted feet thrown up on the arm. You narrowed your gaze at it. “Don’t put your feet on the furniture,” you grumbled. 

“Sorry, dear,” Mihawk said, though he made no move to alter his position. “Did you end up getting that jacket for me?” 

“I did,” you said, glancing through the satchel that hung at your hip. You pulled it out, folding it with a solid shake and holding it up for Mihawk to see. His golden eyes flickered up and down the garment, taking in the material. Black cotton twill, with red paisley silk as the lining, delicate red lace at the hem and sleeves. The lapels were wide, buttons shiny and black, and it used red stitching rather than black, giving a sort of exoskeleton look to it. Mihawk sat up, pushing his hat back. 

“It’s beautiful, darling. I love it.” 

You folded the jacket in half, slinging it across the back of the sofa before moving around to face Mihawk fully. “About the crew.” 

Mihawk glanced up to meet your eyes. “Yes?” 

“I…” you took in a breath, the inhale shaky in your lungs, bones and muscles rattling in your chest. “I think I’m going to stay with them for a little while, if you’re okay with it.” 

“The Straw Hat crew,” Mihawk said carefully, shaping the words on his mouth, tasting them on his tongue. “My daughter, part of the Straw Hat crew. Well, it’s not the most terrible-sounding thing to say, I suppose.” He paused. “No idea why you’d think I wouldn’t be okay with it, though, sweetheart. I’m not horrendous.” 

“Well, I figured—” you started, voice trailing out into a protesting whine. “You’d be against them? Garp sent you after them. One of them tried to kill you.” 

“Oh, you know I don’t hold grudges over such trifling matters,” Mihawk said with a dismissive wave. “Roronoa Zoro, right? He was watching you the entire time you entered. Wouldn’t take his eyes off you, darling.” There was a particular glint in his eyes, hunted, like he was searching for a quarry. “Something to tell me?” 

“No,” you said, too fast. Mihawk lifted both brows, and you broke almost easily. “Maybe. No. He’s—no.”

Mihawk clucked his tongue, sounding amused. “I suppose your rebel streak was bound to come out eventually. And from what you told me, he did beat you, so I can’t exactly complain.” You flushed, warmth heating up your skin, bringing a rosy blush to your cheeks. “Make sure he doesn’t get himself killed before I can fight him again, will you, little hawk? I’ve got my eye on that one.” 

“Okay, dad,” you muttered, but the tension of your shoulders had gone slack, and your muscles were loose. 

“Will you be leaving after dinner, or will you stay until the morning?” Mihawk asked, standing up to his full height. He stretched, sinewy limbs long and supple. He looked nearly odd without Yoru perched along his back. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Morning,” you answered. “I’ve missed you too, dad.” 

Mihawk smiled at you. “Go make sure our guests aren’t burning down the kitchen.” 

Dinner was less of an awkward affair than you’d expected. Usopp spoke the most through it, and Mihawk was fine to goad him on, occasionally switching topics to inquire about the rest of the crew. 

Sanji had made a fine meal; a grilled steak and onions with a side of asparagus to some kind of white sauce pasta you didn’t recognize. It felt… nice, really, having them all around you. Mihawk certainly knew how to socialize, and Luffy didn’t seem to mind his acerbic tendency. 

“And after I defeated all the enemy pirates,” Usopp was rambling on, “We hit a cannon straight into their mast, and it came crashing down! Oh, you should’ve seen it, man. It was me—well, Luffy—I guess he was the one that chucked the guy into the ship, or whatever. It wasn’t actually a cannon, but the details aren’t that important—”

“What about my little hawk?” Mihawk interrupted, and you had the vague sense to start whining. “I don’t suppose she just sat there throughout the whole fight.” 

“Oh, nah, she got some guys too I guess,” Usopp said, lazily waving an arm in the air. “She’s the one who stationed me at the cannon, she knew how great I was at it. She almost died to this one big dude—”

“I did not almost die!” you snapped. Usopp cackled out a hearty laugh. 

“No, she totally did. Thankfully for her, the great Captain Usopp came to her rescue—”

“Me,” Zoro muttered, words barely audible as he spoke them into his cup. You cracked a smile, and he glanced up, catching your eye. A tender look crossed his face. 

“Okay, yeah, it was Zoro who saved her,” Usopp admitted. “Cut the guy’s head straight off his body. But that’s just because I was busy fighting off the other pirates!” He motioned with his hands, mock-punching the air in front of him. 

Mihawk just raised his eyebrows. “Did he, now? I hope you thanked him properly for that, sweetheart.” 

You shot Mihawk a warning look. “Dad.” 

Mihawk didn’t let that faze him, raising his glass of wine to his lips. “You might want to take him around the island. There are some fairly romantic spots here, ones I brought your mother to while she was pregnant,” he said, mouth around the rim of his glass. You flushed, resisting the urge to lunge over the table at your father—clearly, he could see your vexation, mirth dancing in his eyes. 

Zoro didn’t say anything, eyes tilted downwards like there was something particularly interesting in his cup. Nami and Sanji were murmuring things to each other, and Sanji raised his voice to speak. 

“I knew there was something between the two of you! Come on, Lady Dracule, you could do so much better than the mosshead here—”  

“Shut it—” Zoro started. 

“You most certainly did not know, and you owe me fifteen hundred berry for that!” Nami said, offended. She elbowed Sanji firmly in the ribs, and he let out a low cough. Her head spun towards the head of the table, where Luffy was sitting across from your father. “Luffy, tell your cook to honor his bets.” 

“You bet on us?” you demanded, a squeak of embarrassment entering your voice as you protested. Nami gave you a look. 

“Please. You were obvious.” 

“Well,” Sanji jumped in, “Personally I thought you had better taste than—”

“I said shut it, waiter,” Zoro said, finally looking up to fix Sanji with a glare. He tilted his head to the side, one eyebrow raised, and you stifled a laugh. “And if I were you, I’d give Nami her money as soon as possible.” 

“This is so unfair,” Sanji muttered, but he fished a wallet out of his pocket and slapped a few bills onto the table. “There you are, madam. I hope you’re happy.” 

You groaned. “At the dinner table, really?” 

“Money waits for no one,” Nami said with a little wink, tucking her winnings carefully into a pocket of her skirt. 

“Sanji, did you make dessert?” Luffy wondered. Sanji rolled his eyes, but the sigh he let out was kind and good-natured. 

“Well, lucky for you, I did have the mind to bake some cookies while here.” He got up from his seat. You just gave him a dubious look; everyone had more or less finished with their food, though, so you got up, collecting the dishes to wash. 

You did chores, Nami hanging around you and lending her aid while the other Straw Hats got comfortable in guest rooms or whatever else. Zoro hadn’t budged from the dining room, apparently not interested in exploring the different parts of your house—you could just barely see him out of the kitchen doorway, nursing his drink as he stared thoughtfully into the distance. 

The familiar shape of your father’s jacket joined his side, and you narrowed your eyes, straining to hear. Mihawk had bent over the table, a pleasant smile on his face as he spoke. He didn’t bother to speak quietly, so everyone in the near vicinity heard his words— “If you hurt her, I won’t show the mercy I did the first time. My little hawk’s more important than finding a worthy opponent.”

“Dad!” you snapped, dropping the plate you were in the middle of washing. Mihawk didn’t even look in your direction, even as you stormed out of the kitchen to stand protestingly by the mouth. “Don’t—” 

“Oh, hush, dear,” Mihawk said with a dramatic eye roll. “I’m off to bed, then. I’ve got business in the morning.” He came over to you to brush another kiss along your knuckles. “I’ll be gone before you wake up. Safe travels.” 

“Good night,” you said with a sigh. Mihawk left, then, disappearing around the bend of the corner to head off to his room. 

“...I still don’t really forgive him for almost killing Zoro,” Nami said warily. Zoro got up from his seat, moving over to where the two of you had gathered in the kitchen. “But your dad’s fine, I guess. Not terrible, as far as fathers go.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed, then glanced apologetically towards Zoro. “I’m sorry about him.” 

“It’s fine,” Zoro said with a careless shrug. “It’s getting late. I’ll walk you to your room.” You nodded, drying your hands on a nearby kitchen towel and prompting Zoro to follow you up the steps. The house was large, a castle, really; all dark and winding, with long corridors and tall ceilings. Your bedroom was grand, on the second floor, with a sweeping balcony and wide windows that bore a full view of the island’s perpetual darkness. 

“What’d you say?” Zoro asked, stepping into the room. He glanced around, but didn’t remark in his surroundings, turning instead to look over at you. 

“I told him I’d be joining the Straw Hat pirates,” you said. Zoro smiled at that, the edges of his lips curling up. 

“Good,” he said simply. You moved towards him, forcing him to back up until he reached the plush of your bed. He sat down, eyes not flickering away from yours, soft brown that held an entire universe in them. Planets lined his cheeks, spatters of galaxies that you thought you might revolve inside. “Living here for years alone doesn’t seem like the most interesting life.” 

“It was fine while it lasted,” you said, bending your head down, lips hovering over his. Zoro’s hand came up to press firmly along your waist. “I think I like the ship a bit better, though.” 

“Hm,” Zoro murmured, eyes on your mouth. He tugged you down, but the kiss he pressed against your lips was chaste, and he was leaning back again before you knew it. “I decided, by the way. On whether I wanted your dad to like me or not.” 

You arched a brow, thinking back to that night so long ago when you’d first heard the words on Zoro’s lips. I’m not sure if I want him to like me. “Well?” 

“I do,” Zoro said, nudging against your chest, chin bumping along your shoulder. “It makes sense, with you.” 

A comfortable silence filled the space. His thumb ran a tender circle along the skin of your torso. “I should probably pack,” you murmured. 

“Eh, you’ll have time for that later,” Zoro said dismissively. You laughed, the sound full, straight out your throat. 

“Do I, now?” Zoro’s lip quirked, eyes grazing over your figure. You prattled on as if you didn't even notice. “Did you have something else in mind? You realize after this we have all the time in the world to be together—”

“I told you I was impatient,” Zoro interrupted, and then he was tugging you down, pressing a full kiss to your mouth again. You parted your lips to argue, but Zoro just took that as an opportunity to side his tongue in, and, well—this wasn’t so bad, either. One of your hands came to tangle in his hair, nudging his head just the slightest bit upwards to allow you better access. Zoro’s thumb didn’t stop making lazy revolutions into your skin. “Doesn’t seem like you mind.” 

“Shut up,” you mumbled against his lips. You leaned forward, pushing him back onto the bed, before pausing to lean down and unfasten the straps of his shoes. 

“You’re a real charmer.” Zoro didn’t complain, though, seeming more than pleased when you returned to kiss him, allowing him to fall back onto your bed now that you’d shed him of his footwear. “Little hawk, huh?” 

You huffed out a breath. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s cute,” Zoro said casually, one arm coming to prop behind his head. He drank you in properly, this time, from where you were on your knees on the mattress, unstrapping your own shoes before joining him up on the bed. “You are.”

You met his eyes, and a flicker of warmth crossed over your heart. For a soft, silent moment, you let it breathe. Let it exist there. Let the realization that you may one day love this man fill your soul. 

“Come here,” you said, climbing over to Zoro even as you spoke. “I’m going to kiss you again.” 

Zoro just grinned.  

The Going Merry was just as you’d left it, although Mihawk had provided you with any extra provisions the crew might’ve wanted for the rest of your journey. You’d packed up and brought along your stuff, too, managing to finally decorate your cabin in the ship more to your likeness. Everything was ready, and you stood at the edge of the aftercastle, Zoro to your side as you stared down at the island you’d called home for all the years of your life. 

But Kuraigana Island wasn’t your only home anymore, and neither was the hawk eyed man who resided in it whenever he was not busy doing something else. Mihawk had left in the early morning, but the ghost of his presence still warmed you. This way, it was easier to let go, you thought. This way, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. 

“Casting off!” Luffy yelled, his voice puncturing the stillness of the island air from his usual spot on the goat at the ship’s bow. You turned away from the island, jacket lapping around your legs as the wind whipped against it. 

“Ready to go?” Zoro asked carefully. 

“Yeah,” you answered, turning away from the island. Zoro stood to your left, one hand perched on the hilt of his sword, the other relaxed at his side. His brows were creased, strong against the shimmer of the glinting sun just barely peeking through the darkness of the island. 

The fog washed his features in blue, all blurry around the edges, but you couldn’t help but think he was the most beautiful man you’d seen anyway. 

“I’m ready.”

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

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author's note: i also wanted to pop in and say that i'm not opposed to writing more fics/oneshots of this character and in this universe (hereafter referred to as md!reader) with zoro <3 if you guys have any requests pop them in my box when my requests are open, plus i may write some on my own time too!

© halfvalid 2023

[lordprettyflackotara]

noise || hoody

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. remember when i talked about this hoody fic 509 years ago? yeah here it is. also yeS i am aware masky & hoody belong to marble hornets this is the only time im going to address this💀 we are in 2024 in this fandom WE KNOW. anyways enjoy !! <3

If there was anything you could’ve changed about your life, you had a particular decision in mind.

Being a desperate college student for cash, babysitting and dog walking wasn’t paying the off the debt you were accumulating.

You had scoured Craigslist, confident that there would be an odd job you’d be able to accomplish for quick cash.

Looking back you wish you had known quick cash wouldn’t come easy.

A posting offering $5k a week fell into your lap about a week later. The details seemed easy enough. The ability to clean an older mansion, whilst keeping the identities of the multiple infamous residents that resided there a secret seemed like a piece of cake.

What the posting didn’t list, was that the infamous residents were unhinged killers. Some of which you couldn’t even categorize as human.

It also didn’t list that your position would be residing in the mansion, permanently.

Being a maid in the Slenderman mansion was, in lack of better words: fucking terrifying.

The residents operated at odd hours. No matter what time you cleaned, you always received the displeasure of running into someone.

The longer you stayed, the longer paranoia began to settle in. Ben Drowned, the poster of the Craigslist ad, was a perv. You learned to stray away from electronic devices he could peep his head through. Jeff the killer, one of the most unhinged, had a short temper. He was one of the first ones to opt out of having his room cleaned by you, a decision you silently praised after walking by and seeing how filthy it was.

The next to opt out with a demonic creature named Eyeless Jack, one who specifically requested you stay out of his medical lab. Given all of the blood and goop you had mopped up at this point, a fear of being eaten led you to offering to clean it regardless. EJ knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it, given his ‘hobbies’ were the most gore filled of the mansions residents. It didn’t surprise him when you left the lab green, puking immediately in a bucket he had placed beside the door for you.

The other members whose names you were obligated to memorize, Jane, Clockwork, Jason the something maker, all were rarely home. You learned to steer clear of Jason’s workshop, the dolls he made often speaking to you as if they had souls. The only three other residents who lived in the mansion full time (minus its owner), were what you learned to be proxies. These proxies, two of them at least, seemed to be human just like you.

Ticci Toby’s mortality was still up in the air for you. He once had tripped and fallen after you had mopped the floors, landing on the marble face first. He got up like nothing happened, giggling to himself about ‘how wet you made the floor’. After observing him throw axes in the training room, you decided to steer clear of him.

Masky seemed to be the trio’s leader, his face consistently hidden behind a doll resembling mask. He avoided you like the plague, skipping the formalities and acting as if you didn’t exist. You never asked questions, not knowing how long anyone had truly been here. But Masky in particular seemed a bit older than everyone, when you accidentally stumbled upon him coming home late one night from a mission. His nose was trailing blood, his mask broken in half. You ensured to avoid eye contact, but extended a wet washcloth to him so he could attend to his nose.

After that your dynamic remained the same for the most part. Except when both of you occupied a room together, neither of you made an effort to beeline to the door.

Hoody was the last proxy, the one that made you more at ease than the others. Hoody had spoken a grand total of maybe ten words to you, introducing himself and Masky before dashing out of the back door. The only time you really saw him was when you cleaned his room, the man doing a poor job of pretending to read magazines while you cleaned. Other than that, you only caught glimpses of the proxies when they came home in the late hours of the night from missions.

Most of the time they were soaked in blood. In a couple of odd occasions you had to assist them in carrying one another up to Eyeless Jack’s medical lab. You couldn’t figure out why the proxies were here, two humans not seeming to fit in with the rest of misfits that resided here. You had no idea soon enough you’d be up close and personal.

Late night was when you preferred to clean, most of the killers away from the mansion and out hunting. The existence of the residents here only existed because of their dedication to keep their identities a secret. Night time was the perfect cover, for them and for you. You were leaning over the kitchen sink, scrubbing at a particular stubborn pot when you heard the back door open. You tried very hard not to stare, not wanting to gain unwanted attention.

You glanced up briefly, catching a glance of Toby’s and Masky’s familiar figures as they trudged upstairs. “He cost us that fucking mission, Slender’s gonna be so pissed off,” Masky growled, rounding the corner of the kitchen. Toby trailed behind him, an axe dripping blood slung over his shoulder. “Y-yeah, what w-w-was he thinking?!” Toby exclaimed, his stuttering something you had grown accustomed to. You noted Hoody’s absence, your eyebrows raising as you returned your gaze to the pot.

The sound of doors slamming echoed through out the other wise quiet mansion, the silence fulfilling you with some sort of ease. It didn’t take long for the final proxy to stumble into frame, his hand cupping his face. You weren’t forbidden from interacting with the mansions residents, your urge to help sweeping over you. Hoody was awkwardly stumbling, immediately leaning onto you for support as you helped him stay standing.

“I got it,” He huffed. His usual ski mask was half raised, the bottom half of his face revealed to you for the first time. His chin and upper lip had surprisingly clean cut facial hair, kept to a minimum. You guided him around the counter, helping him sit onto the kitchen counter by the sink. Hastily he shoved his yellow hood off of his head, yanking the ski mask off with it. You were surprised a normal human being stared back at you, a large gash sliced across his cheek.

“Jesus Christ,” You muttered. You grabbed a clean wash cloth, running it under cold water. “Didnt ask for your commentary doll,” Hoody said dryly. You swallowed, wringing out the excess water. You could’ve done what you did with Masky, handing him the washcloth and wishing him a silent farewell. But instead you didn’t. “Sorry,” You mumbled. You craved human contact, any kind of human contact. Brushing off your skirt you stepped in between his legs, leaning forward.

You were careful to avoid eye contact, focusing on dabbing the wound. Hoody silently winched under the feeling, inhaling through his teeth. As gently as you could you dabbed away the blood. “Do you want me to get EJ?” You asked. Hoody’s face was stone cold, from what you could see out of the corner of your eye anyways. “Dont bother, i’m sure he’s sick of patching us up all the time,” He grumbled. The wound didn’t look deep, just very long. Thankfully most of the blood was gone, the rest of his face covered in specs of dry blood (that you presumed to not be his) and dirt.

Turning on the sink you washed out the washcloth, the crimson paint drifting off down the drain with the water. You then returned to Hoody, wiping off his face. You weren’t sure what compelled you to be so compassionate, Hoody’s eyes fluttering shut. He took a deep breath, his shoulders seemingly relaxing. You were gentle of course, not wanting to piss the killer in front of you off. But even Hoody knew your action wasn’t callous.

Once you were done you awkwardly stepped aside, putting the rag in the sink. “You want a cig?” Hoody asked. He dug in his jeans, pulling out a beat up cigarette box. “Is this your way of showing gratitude?” You asked. The man in front of you smiled, extending you the box. “This right here is the only kind of buzz you’re getting around here doll,” He explained, allowing himself to half smile. You had never smoked a cigarette before, nor had you really planned on it. Not like it mattered now.

You put one to your lips like people did in movies, watching Hoody do the same. He pulled out a lighter, flicking it and igniting the end of his cigarette. You leaned forward, watching Hoody attempt to flick the lighter again. The flame refused to ignite, the sight of small sparks making him sigh. “Masky always takes the good lighters,” He muttered. He inhaled his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the right. You found the gesture of attempting to not violate you with smoke a little sweet.

“Well I appreciate the offer. I’ve never smoked a cigarette anyways,” You admit. Hoody shook his head. “That just won’t do then. Put it to your lips and stay still,” He ordered. You did as instructed, watching him lean closer to you. His fingers went under your chin, keeping your head held high. You felt your face beginning to burn, the end of his cigarette lighting yours as you inhaled. You both avoided each others gazes, until the second he began to back away.

For a brief moment you shared eye contact, searching each other’s eyes. For what? You didn’t know. You properly inhaled, coughing immediately. “You guys like this stuff?” You asked in between coughs, continuing to choke. Hoody nonchalantly took another drag of his, watching you struggle. “It’ll grow on you, trust me. I didn’t like it at first either,” He confessed. Once you regained strength in your lungs you properly stood up. Hoody remained seated on the kitchen counter, with you standing beside him.

“How long have you been here?” You asked curiously. You were stepping over a hundred boundaries, ones you could die for if you stepped over the line too far. “A while,” Hoody answered honestly. You took another drag of your cigarette, the taste of tobacco growing on you. “How long are you going to be here?” Hoody countered. You exhaled, glancing back at the proxy. He had exhaled through his nose, boldly making eye contact with you.

“A while.”

You found the courage to turn around, facing him fully. “You aren’t lonely?” You asked. Hoody gave you a smile, tossing the bud of his cigarette into the nearby trashcan. “I am, are you?” He asked curiously. You followed his lead, tossing the bud of the cigarette into the trashcan. If it set the kitchen on fire, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. “Yeah I am,” You admit. Hoody slid off of the counter, his tall height towering over you.

“Do you uh, wanna change that?” He asked. For a killer who had a victims blood splattered across his face moments ago, he seemed so awkward. You wondered how long it had been since he had been with a woman. How long would it be before you could be with a man again? “Please,” You sighed. Hoody kissed you just as rough as you expected, both of you melting into the other. Both of you were undeniably needy, touch depraved and lonely. You were sure this was forbidden for both of you but as his tongue slid into your mouth, you just couldn’t find it within yourself to care.

“Call me Brian but only when it’s us, okay? Thats not who I am anymore but that’s who I want to be with you, okay?” Hoody asked. You nodded, the normal name bringing your comfort. Brian’s hand snaked down your waist, squeezing and kneading at the flesh of your ass. You whimpered into his mouth, the sound only making him harder. There was no telling how much longer you’d be around, the residents of the mansion unhinged enough to snap at any moment.

You couldn’t fully undress here and going upstairs was out of the question. “This has to be quick, we can’t get caught,” You whispered. Brian nodded, slipping his hand up your skirt. He rubbed against your wet cunt, your panties preventing any further stimulation. Brian had zero control over his life but he did right here, right now. You had no control over yours either, the decision to fuck each other to release steam the only free will decision either of you could make. You palmed him through his jeans, his cock practically busting through the fabric.

He guided you to the counter, grabbing the sides of your panties and yanking them down to your ankles. He shoved them into his pocket for what you thought to be safe temporary keeping. But Brian had other ideas.

“Fuck, please, wanna feel you Brian,” You whispered, trying hard to not groan loudly. Brian quickly undid his belt bringing his lips back to yours. It had been so long since he had kissed anyone, your soft lips driving him mad. It wasn’t long before his cock was at your entrance, awkwardly shuffling with his jeans at his ankles. He fell a bit backwards, causing you to laugh. “Fucking hell, sorry-” He began apologizing. You giggled, hopping off of the counter.

You brought him fully to the ground, pushing his back against the oven. “This might work better,” You replied, lowering yourself down onto his cock. Brian’s cock felt like heaven, your mouth falling open. Both of you let out a sigh of relief. You had no way to masturbate, no way to possibly release the stressful tension building inside of you. As you pressed your forehead against Brian’s, you realized that this was what you got. This was your outlet.

Brian’s gloved hands met your waist, helping you roll your hips. You let out a loud groan, one of his hands flying to your mouth. “Shh, you can’t make any noise,” Brian warned, your inability to stay composed only making him more hot and bothered. He took control, guiding your hips to ride him at a pace that worked for both of you. You were as wet as a virgin, your body yearning for more as Brian abused your g spot. Your sinful moans were muffled by his gloved hand, his other attempting to guide you.

He brought himself close to your ear. “If you wanna get off, you’re gonna have to ride me by yourself mkay? Do that and i’ll play with that pretty clit of yours doll,” He huffed, trying to control his own noises. You nodded yes profusely, trying to concentrate on grinding your hips against his. With his spare hand he found your clit, drawing sloppy circles around it. For a brief moment he was worried about his ‘skills’ not having slept with a woman in years. Whether he was good or bad at it, you didn’t appear to give a shit. You were still a panting mess, your hair sticking to your forehead from sweat.

Your walls clenched tighter around Brian as you felt yourself closer to euphoria, your eyes fluttering shut. With your forehead pressed to his you pawed at his hoodie, grabbing handfuls as your orgasm washed over you. Your sinful noises were muted by Brian’s hand, the muffled sounds music to his ears that he had made you feel that good. Your walls fluttering around him triggered his own orgasm, his cum flooding inside of you. He dropped his hand from your mouth, both of you taking a moment to breathe.

In a moment of true loneliness you leaned against Brian’s shoulder, ignoring the faint smell of dried blood and sweat. Unsurely Brian stroked your hair, trying to remember if that was comforting or not. He licked his dry lips, a bold question on the tip of his tongue.

“You wanna share a cigarette again tomorrow?”

[seasidepierre]

sunkissed face part 8 | charles leclerc

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS MASTERLIST

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

summary: You’ve been in love with your best friend Harrison for quite a while now but when Tom, Harrison and Tuwaine go on a trip to Monaco for the F1 Grand Prix, you’re quick to tag along, even though it means spending time with Harrison’s girlfriend.

warnings: I’ve left them alone for quite a bit so they’re full of fluff. 

words count: 6k

a/n: I’m sorry it took so much time, I can’t promise the next update will be quicker, I promise I love them to bits but I suck at sticking to one task. The “meeting your dad” little blurb I had made its way to this part, though I added a few bits and bobs around it, so you don’t have exactly the same thing. It made sense to have it there, I hope you don’t mind Xx

“I’ll see you in two weeks,” Charles whispered against your lips in the middle of a business lounge in the airport in Nice. “Just two little weeks and I’ll all yours.” “I know,” you sighed. “Two weeks is manageable, right?” “It totally is,” he smiled, raising the corners of your lips along with his. He sounded like he was trying to convince both you and himself. “We’ll barely notice them passing by. Two little weeks.”

He took a step back, keeping an arm around your hips, counting on his fingers and muttering the numbers in French underneath his breath.

“Quinze dodos. Fifteen sleeps,” he grinned. “You’re the dorkiest,” you laughed. “You love it.” “I kinda do,” you nodded.

You were far from saying those three little words. You weren’t sure you felt them quite yet, but you did love the dork side of Charles, like his looks didn’t quite match the child that was still trapped inside his soul, sometimes.

“Wait.. Fifteen?” you realised. “I could come on the Monday?” He sheepishly suggested, a blush slowly creeping on his neck. “That would be nice,” you whispered, resting your head on his chest. “My bed seems too big when you’re not there.” “I will come fix that issue, then,” he promised, with a kiss on your forehead. “You should go, you’re gonna miss your flight.” “Do I really have to go?” You whined, pushing your face deeper into his shirt. “I’m afraid you do..”

You didn’t say goodbye, when you left. You raised on your tippy toes, gave him a quick kiss, then waved before you had to say it. Because saying goodbye felt too harsh and too final. “See you later” could have worked, but it still meant leaving and you didn’t like it either. So you just waved and Charles waved back from the other side of the window. You were clad in the hoodie that you were supposed to give him back. Charles said it was yours, now, and you didn’t have to say thanks because your happy grin sufficed. During the weekend, he had worn it for as long as he could and you were pretty sure he did spray way too much perfume on it, just for the sake of sending you back home with something you’d be able to cling onto.

The AC in the plane was on full blast, you thought, as a shiver ran down your spine. The sun was no longer on your face and you couldn’t bask in Charles’ warmth anymore. You shook a little and slipped your hands in the pocket of the jumper, only to find a wrapped up candy from the hotel you just left. You had no idea where it came from, because you didn’t wear that hoodie much during the weekend, since Charles was the one sporting it the most. He must have hidden it for you to find, you realised, and you smiled at the attention.

Fifteen sleeps. Quinze dodos.

☀️

Those fifteen sleeps went by a blur. You went to work on a Monday morning and on the evening, Charles was sitting in the hall of your flat, waiting for you to come home. You opened the door to him without a word, grabbing his hand effortlessly, leading him in what he now knew to be your safe space. You didn’t eat dinner that evening, you just went straight to bed, peeled off each other’s clothes and kissed every parcel of skin you could find. You slept for a blissful ten hours, your head lodged in the crook of his shoulder and his nose resting on top of your skull, your legs intertwined just as tightly as your fingers. Charles knew you had work to do and you couldn’t just pretend that life didn’t exist outside of these walls. So he woke up a bit earlier than you did, cooked breakfast (or most likely, toasted bread and spread butter and jam on each piece of toast) and made tea in a pale yellow mug that had small golden stars on it, because it looked cute and he instantly liked it. He knew that you liked your tea with only one cube of brown sugar and that your favourite tea was the one berry-flavoured. You didn’t have a tray for his very romantic idea of a breakfast in bed, but you did have a large pan that worked wonder in bringing everything to you. That morning, you got woken up by hot tea vapours and small kisses along your jaw, only matched in their softness by the fingers that sneaked between the sheets to find your bare hip.

Charles will later say that you woke up with a small on your face and that it was all he could hope for. You ate in silence, because there was nothing you could say to explain how full your heart felt that morning and Charles seemed to be in the same state of mind. He took you to the shower, washed your hair, lathered your body in foam and couldn’t help himself to a lazy morning shower sex, just because he could and just because he wanted to make you happy. Then he redid the whole foam on the body, because it felt like the right thing to do.

You left for work before you could change your mind, with a kiss and, finally, his first words since he arrived in your building being “Have a nice day, work well and come back fast.” You’d argue you tried your best to have the shortest day at the office you could have. He’d argue that the day felt endlessly long.

On the evening, you ate in bed after Charles jumped on you the second you were home, naked but blissful, in a post orgasm state that rivalled the feeling they must be experiencing in heaven.

“Do you think your dad will like me?” Charles whispered, the words dying between your own lips. “He’s gonna love you,” you reassured him, eyes closed, head on the pillow, fighting to stay awake. “I’m kinda nervous.” “You shouldn’t be,” you breathed out before finally succumbing to sleep.

☀️

Tom called during the week, to ask how you were doing and if you were going to Silverstone. You said you were and that you were happy.

“Lover boy in London?” He laughed. “He is,” You smiled softly at the phone. “What is he doing during the day? Since you’re at work, you know..” “I actually have no idea. He’s hanging out at the flat. He’s resting. I think he had a debrief on the phone with the team, yesterday.” “Do you think I could take him out for lunch?” “I dunno,” you shrugged. “Call him, ask him yourself. But why do you want to have a date with him?” “I dunno,” he repeated. “To chat, I guess.” “Tom, I don’t have an older brother and you don’t need to fill that role,” you groaned. “I mean, I kinda do, actually.” “No you don’t,” you argued. “I’m happy. He’s good to me, Tommy.” “I know. But the last time I saw you in love, you ended up in tears more than I could ever handle it once again.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see nor hear it. Tom had seen you being miserably in love with Harrison for longer than you’d realise. He knew before you admitted it, actually. He had dried your tears too many times to forget about it. He had supported you through everything, without a word. And it was Harrison, it was both your best friend. Now this was a guy he didn’t really know, beyond the occasional hangouts or texts, and while he’d agree that Charles seemed to be a good guy, he wanted to make sure. You couldn’t quite deny him that one.

“You have his Instagram. Ask him yourself.” “I will.”

On the evening you came back home, Tom was sitting in the flat, with a PlayStation that you knew from his living room. He had taken everything apart just to bring it to your place and bags of takeout were sitting on the kitchen counters.

“Hi boys,” You smiled.

They barely mumbled their hellos back to you, engrossed in a game of Fifa that you couldn’t begin to understand. You smiled at your favourite boys together, noticing the similarities and the differences in just a glance. Tom was obviously shorter but he seemed broader, while Charles was slimmer and taller. Both had short dark hair, both held kindness in their eyes and both would follow you to the end of the Earth if it meant having you happy. Your heart warmed at the realisation that you were so incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such great souls.

You made dinner, a simple dish of pasta because Charles was still on a diet and Andrea would have his head on a pike if he went for anything that would mess it all up. Tom stayed for dinner, eating with you two, talking about your day and everything in your lives. Charles told him everything he could about F1. Tom told him everything he could about Marvel movies. Both revealed secrets they shouldn’t have but promised to never peep a word about it. They joked at your expense sometimes, though Charles was quick to drape your hand with his after, as if he needed to apologise for the teasing and reassure you that he didn’t truly mean it.

“You got a good one,” Tom said before he left. “It didn’t feel like your place anymore,” he added. “He fits in there perfectly,” he concluded, before dropping a kiss on your cheek and leaving in the dusk of the night, his PlayStation underneath his arm. “Do you think Tom will be at Silverstone?” Charles asked. “I think so, why?” “He ruined me at Fifa, I need a revenge,” he shrugged.

You did get a good one, you grinned.

☀️

Soon enough it was Thursday and Charles had to leave for his work, emptying your flat from his infectious smile and smell, again. But that was okay, because you had managed to score a Friday off and you would be joining him at the track just the day after. Un dodo. Just one sleep.

Andrea was kind enough to fetch you from the garage when you arrived on the Friday morning and Charles was already in a briefing. You met with one of the most important people in Charles’ life and Andrea was nothing but nice. He spoke in an even more broken English than Charles, thick with his Italian accent, but he was funny and spoke highly of Charles, so you automatically liked him. He told you Charles had insisted that you were to be in his driver’s room when he’d finally get out of his meet so you listened to Andrea’s stories for about an hour before Charles came barging in the room like a mad man. You were in his arms before you could say hi and before Andrea could even react.

“If only your reflexes could be quick like that all the time,” Andrea muttered.

That made you laugh and Charles grinned in return, happy to hear that sound again, as if you had been separated for more than 24 hours. You had lunch with Charles and Andrea, you met a good part of Charles’ team, some of them remembering you from the French GP, but this time you were properly introduced. The “girlfriend” label was quite already attached to the nape of your neck, but you could feel it looming above your head and for the first time, you didn’t suffocate with the idea of belonging to anybody else than Harrison. You were thrilled by the prospect, actually.

The Friday went by slowly and you sat in the garage with a pair of headphones, learning as much as you could and basking in the fumes of oil, rubber and car exhaust. The air was thick with warmth and mechanical particles, but you liked being there. Andrea was entertaining and you couldn’t ask for more. On the evening, the qualifications for the Sprint race happened and you spent the whole session crossing your fingers. Charles ended up P4, which wasn’t amazing, but it also meant that he could skip the top 3 interviews and be back to you quicker. He had to find positives everywhere.

The Saturday was another deal and while you wished your dad could be there, you knew he would still have the time of his life on the Sunday. With such short notice, he couldn’t manage to get out of work but you promised you’d have an extraordinary Sunday, which Charles had been starting to plan.

Charles was wearing his red pants when you walked in the paddock. You had taken a taxi from the hotel, because Charles let you sleep and because you had asked for it, the night prior. You knew media and fans would be waiting for Charles to arrive on the track and you didn’t want to attract attention while you still didn’t quite know what you were. So you met with Andrea again, who brought you to the garage, where Charles was settling the last details before the second free practice session. He kissed you before he went to drive and you tapped gently on his helmet, knocking lightly on it.

“What was it for?” He chuckled. “Knocking on wood. Good luck out there, be fast but be careful.”

It must have been a lucky charm because he ended the session P2, with not only half a second that separated him from Max Verstappen, who you knew to be bloody good. For the Sprint Race, you couldn’t do it and it brought Charles back to the P4 spot, just as he had been before the race. Nothing lost, but nothing gained either. Charles was frustrated. Relieved that he wasn’t starting lower on the grid, but frustrated that he couldn’t grab a point, when he was just three seconds behind Valtteri Bottas.

That night, Charles went to the gym and you sat on the floor, watching a movie on your phone while Andrea was shouting in Italian words that you couldn’t even start to comprehend. You watched the coat of sweat on Charles’ forehead turn into sweat stains on his shirt and after an hour, when his breath was so short he sounded like he was about to pass out, you got your man back and helped him in the shower because his arms were so tired from lifting weights, he couldn’t even reach his hair. So you scrubbed every bit of his body that you could and let him turn putty in your hands, groaning when you pressed the palms of your hands in the knots on his shoulder blades, as you tried to relieve the tension.

That night, you didn’t even try anything funny, because Charles needed to rest and because Andrea had said “You sleep tonight, Lover Boy, you hear me?” and you were kinda scared that he would know, one way or another. You liked Andrea, but not to the point of having him know your sexual activity. So you went to bed and slipped beneath the covers after Charles, because you still had a few minutes to watch on your movie and you wanted to know the end. When you finally made it to the hotel bed, Charles was asleep face first in your pillow, the duvet low on his back and you could see the small dimples on each side of his lower spine. You slid behind him, kissed each shoulder blade and slipped your arms around his stomach, spooning him.

“This is the other way around, normally,” he mumbled, sleepily. “Do you want to turn around?”

A small silence followed by a sleepy breath was all you needed to know that you wouldn’t move one bit.

“I like it when you hold me,” he admitted.

You never got to tell him that you liked holding him more than he liked you holding him. He was already asleep when you came to that conclusion.

☀️

You had no idea how you managed to keep the secret for that long, but damn it did feel glorious to watch your dad’s face crumble as you presented him with a paddock pass with his name and face on it. The lanyard was neon green, branded with the F1 logo and as you passed it around his neck, you were almost certain that tears were welling up in his eyes.

  And he wasn’t even close to the biggest surprise yet.

  When Charles invited you to Silverstone, you were ecstatic to say the least. You had already planned to go but couldn’t have found cheap tickets and were on the lookout for resellers who might sell their tickets back. You only needed two, one for you and one for your dad, but you only had managed to almost get scammed in the process. So when Charles offered for you to be his guest, you had one condition and one only: you and your dad were a package deal. Charles was so happy to comply, it filled your heart with warmth and happiness. The fact that he was adamant that you would only come with your dad was absolutely adorable and even more so when he learned that you hadn’t told him anything about the fact that you were seeing each other. Dating? Was he your boyfriend? He had no idea and to be honest, he wasn’t as pressed about it either. He was just glad to spend time with you, whether it was to kiss you and cuddle with you or just to talk. If you wanted him to be your boyfriend, he would gladly be so. If you wanted to introduce him to your dad as just a friend, he would smile and shake his hand either way. This wasn’t time for the big debates on whether or not you were his girlfriend. And you were thankful for that.

“How the hell are we in the paddock?” Your dad kept muttering, walking next to you. “I told you, I got those passes through someone I know,” you grinned. “Do I have to send a gift basket to Tom again?” Your dad rolled his eyes. “I love this kid to death but he has to stop with the gifts.” “It’s not Tom,” you giggled. “But you’re gonna like him either way.” “Oh so it’s a “he”, then,” your dad teased. “Stop digging for intel, you’re gonna know soon anyway,” you laughed.

The more you walked through the paddock, the faster your heart beat. You hadn’t seen Charles in almost a month, ever since you left from the French GP with an usual hole in your chest, shaped like your favorite monégasque. You had texted and called, of course, and you had watched every bit of content you could find to feel closer to him but nothing would ever replace the feeling of his arms around your waist and of his lips on the crook of your neck. You couldn’t wait to get him back.

  The walk in the paddock still felt foreign and if it wasn’t for the couple of familiar faces that you crossed path with, you could have felt terribly out of place. But you kept on walking, waving back at Pierre who you properly met about a month ago and who had followed you on Instagram to chat, in the following days of your meeting.

  Next to you, your dad gasped at your familiarity with the driver, making you stop wondering where your fangirl tendency could have come from. Your dad was a fangirl. There was no way you didn’t inherit those genes from him. There was no way you would be able to contain your giggles either when he’d finally understand that you were headed to the Ferrari garage.

“I’m not sure we’re supposed to be going to this part of the paddock”, your dad mumbled, a bit embarrassed and turning shier by the second. “I’m certain we are,” you teased back, dragging him by the arm until you crossed the row of trucks with the different teams’ logos on them. “Holy shit, this is the actual pitlane,” your dad almost sobbed. “This is incredible. How the heck am I here?” “Wait until you see where we’re gonna watch the race,” you grinned mischievously.

Charles had been the best sport you could find. He knew how much you owed your dad for your love of Formula One and since it was his first time meeting him, he wanted to impress. He had scored you two seats inside the garage, so you could follow the race on the different screens and watch the pit stops happen in real time. You would be basking in the racing vibes of the Scuderia and he had already planned to shower you with enough merch to last a lifetime. Your dad was about to combust and he wanted to make sure of it. Selfishly, he also wanted to make a good first impression. Not that he was trying to buy your dad, but if he was.. The way to your dad’s heart was about to be easier than ever expected…

“Oh Lord, can we walk up to the Ferrari garage? Is that allowed? Or are we gonna get booted out of here?” “Sure, let’s walk to the Ferrari garage,” you laughed. “Maybe.. Maybe not so close. I don’t want to get shooed away. Stop- What the bloody hell are you doing? You can’t just walk into a garage!! Oh my Lord, I raised a complete nutcase,” your dad spilled out so fast it was actually comical. “Dad, welcome to the Ferrari garage,” You grinned, opening an arm to welcome him in, as if you had any say over who’s allowed in and who isn’t.

You didn’t have much time before you could warn him about what happened. One second you were trying not to explode in tears of laughter in front of his bewildered face and the next, a head was nested in the little space between your shoulder and your neck. You raised a gentle hand, resting it in the messy hair that you could feel tickling your skin and smiled at the familiar feeling of Charles hugging you from behind. He dropped a gentle kiss on your skin, squeezing your sides in his grabby hands and immediately straightened back up to face your father, whose mouth was shaped as a perfect O and who couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

“Dad, I want you to meet Charles,” you introduced them both. “Charles, this is my dad, possibly your biggest fan,” You giggled. “It’s an honor to meet you, Sir,” Charles started, presenting a hand to your dad. “I heard I was to thank you for raising a Ferrari fan as a daughter. I must say I’m super grateful for that, meeting your daughter has been a highlight of my year.” “Shut. Up,” Your dad spat. “You know Charles Leclerc?!” He whisper-yelled at you. “You know Charles Leclerc and you didn’t tell me anything?!” “Dad, he can hear you,” you laughed. “Yes, I know Charles.” “Was he the one whose hand I could see on that car in Monaco? Were you that hand?!” He finally addressed Charles, who was still waiting to shake his hand. “I’m quite sure I was,” Charles blushed, amused. “Your daughter’s been a delight to have around in Monaco.” “Oh my God, this is the best day of my life, I need to sit down,” your dad started to hyperventilate. “She’s hanging out with a Ferrari driver and she doesn’t bloody tell me. This is the best thing in my life right now,” he ranted. “Dad, Charles is still waiting to shake your hand,” you smiled. “Oh yeah, sorry Son, yeah, ahem, big fan,” your dad blushed (blushed!!), finally greeting Charles. “Phenomenal drive. Such bad luck in Monaco. My my. Love what you’re doing. You’re the best. Hope you win today.” “That’s the goal, I’ll do my best. In the meantime, you’re welcome to watch the race from here. There’s a seat with your name on it. Well, not quite literally, but you know what I mean. I also got you a pair of headphones so you could listen to my radio, in case you’re interested in that. It protects the ears from the loud noises, too.” “Oh man, I think I’m gonna fall in love with you,” your father almost cried, before launching himself to the chair waiting for him like he had fire underneath his ass. “You think I made a good impression?” Charles almost grimaced. “I think he already loves you very much,” you replied, amused. “You made his entire year. Thank you for everything, it means the world to me to have him experience such a thing.” “Then it means the world to me too. Anything for you,” he smiled. “Am I allowed to kiss you or is that tempting my luck too much?” He cringed. “You are absolutely 100% allowed to kiss me,” you smiled, rising to your tippy toes to kiss him yourself. “He’s deep into a screen, watching the replays of your onboard anyway.” “I’m glad he likes me,” Charles sighed, relieved. “What can I say? Must be a family thing,” you joked, kissing him again.

Your dad was already engrossed in the screens in front of him. He looked just as home as you were, clad in a Ferrari shirt that he had chosen that morning without knowing where he’d be. You were wearing one of Charles’ shirt, which you were grateful that your father had not really brought to attention, but you knew your friends who were currently marching down the paddock would. You’d see them later, probably after the race, you thought, but that was without counting on Charles who had managed to outdo himself and score two passes for the grid walk, for you and your dad. The fact that your father’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears as he took Charles in his arms was enough to bring tears to yours, silently thanking Charles, even though he couldn’t see your mouth beneath the face mask you still had to sport. Charles nodded above your dad’s shoulder and you thought, just for a minute, that you couldn’t be happier that your heart stopped being stubborn and chose to move on with Charles. He wasn’t just a great rebound, he was everything you could hope and wish for. The fact that he went ahead and tried to make this even more magical for your dad was all the proof you needed that you were in for the long term. The grid was busy as ever, with celebrities looking either ecstatic or completely bored. You almost stumbled onto Will.I.Am and barely had time to apologise before an engineer pushed you to the side. With a bit of a struggle, you made your way around the cars, taking pictures of your dad in front of each one of them, just because you didn’t know when you’d be able to do that again and because he deserved every picture he could get. You even got one of him and Charles chatting for a second before Charles had to put on his helmet again. To say your father was impressed would be an understatement, but you couldn’t ignore the grin that appeared on his mouth just like on the Cheshire Cat’s when Charles gently grabbed your forearm and dropped his helmeted head to your level, without a word. You frowned for a second, then remembered your little moment the day before. With a giggle, you knocked twice on the helmet, muttering “Knocking on wood, be fast but be careful”, which got him smiling, if you trusted the corners of his eyes through the open visor.

“So you and Charles, huh?” Your dad teased. “Yeah. It’s new, but he’s good to me, Dad.” “I can see that. The fact that he went above and beyond for your old fart of a father was enough for me to see that.” “He truly did all of that, huh?” “He did. This is the best day of my life,” your dad grinned. “Now, let’s enjoy the racing and push behind our guy to win.”

Our guy. That sounded just about right.

☀️

To say that your dad was fuming wouldn’t even bring justice to the state he was in. When Lewis Hamilton passed him, you believed he was going to go to the engineers and push all the buttons to release an extra boost of power himself. But there was nothing he could have done and nothing else to do but watch as Charles lost the lead of a race that you truly believed he could have won and that would have made your father so happy it would have been an actual joke. When Charles crossed the line second, your father slapped his cap on the railing in front of you and you sighed with frustration. You knew you were supposed to be happy for a podium, but he had been so close to win in front of you, in front of your dad, that you couldn’t help but be a bit sad for him.

Andrea was the one who pushed you to the bottom of the podium with your dad in tow. You wouldn’t be close to the parc fermé barriers but you would be there for the podium, at least, and Andrea promised he would get you two as close as possible to both the podium, then the doors, so you could get back to Charles for a couple of minutes before he’d have to go through the whole media circus again. You kind of wished they didn’t have to do that every time, just so you could cosy up with him for more than a handful of seconds before he’d be whisked away somewhere else. In your haste, you checked your phone to see Tom had texted both you and Charles to congratulate him on his podium.

Quick text to say congrats! You should have won today, but silverware is still silverware, right? Sending this to your girl as well, I know you won’t have your phone on you

You smiled at the text, sporting a video of Tom, his brothers and Tuwaine, cheering for Charles from the top of the paddock club, where people looked at them like they were proper nutcases. Tom had said “your girl” and you had enjoyed the sound of that. It was the third time already that you realised that being linked to Charles didn’t feel like such a bad thing. You had been really cautious with Tom, because he was your best friend and you didn’t want to cause any type of prejudice or to create drama when there wasn’t drama to begin with, but with Charles, you truly didn’t care. Let there be drama. Let there be chatter. That wouldn’t change the fact that you liked the guy and that the feeling was mutual.

Standing proud but slightly defeated on the second step of the podium, Charles scanned the crowd, hoping to discern the right Ferrari polo that belonged to your shoulders. You thought he would never be able to, surely, when the crowd was that compact and when more than half of the garage was standing there, but the smile he sent your way felt personal and you took it for granted, arrogance be damned. Your dad was clapping and yelling on your side when the presenter introduced Charles Leclerc, second on the podium, like the frustration of seeing him being somewhat robbed of a victory had been wiped for pure joy. You jumped up and down when he raised the trophy in the air and you watched him pour sparkling wine all over himself and the rest of the podium. There wasn’t much you could have done more, but Andrea seemed to be happy about your joy and before you could properly bask in the vibes of it, he was dragging you and your dad away so you could sneak into the right hallway.

Charles was barely out of the door that you were running to him, hanging yourself at his neck and hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“Have a nice evening, bro,” a voice resonated behind you and you didn’t even comprehend that it was Lewis Hamilton, too busy finding your man back and smelling the melted rubber clinging on his skin. “Did you have a nice day?” Charles whispered. “It was amazing,” you whispered back. “Thanks for everything. Dad was over the moon.” “I’m happy then. Let me go check with him what he wants to do for a second?”

You begrudgingly let him go, watching your dad take him in his arms and slapping him on the back, in a proper men’s hug. You smiled at the vision of them two, walking away with arms on the shoulders or just above the waist, Charles having let the trophy in the trusted hands of your father for just a bit.

“I wish you could have won. You deserved it,” your dad muttered. “I’ll win somewhere else,” Charles shrugged. “Yeah, but I may not be there to cheer for that one.” “I’ll make sure to have someone facetime you, then,” he smiled. “Thank you for having been here today and for pushing behind me. It was nice to meet you that way.”

Your dad nodded and before you could catch up with them, they were out of earshot. You could only see their heads bobbing up and down, the smiles on their mouths and the chuckles rumbling in their chests. Your dad kept patting Charles on the chest, until they turned serious enough that Charles nodded solemnly, before he got engulfed in your father’s embrace once again.

“What did my dad tell you, when we left that building after podium?” You asked, when your head was resting on Charles’ chest in the hotel room bed, after Charles had closed the door of the taxi on him and waved him goodbye. “We talked about you,” he confirmed. “Don’t worry. He didn’t tell me any secret.” “Did he try to scare you off?” “No. But that’s between me and him,” he kissed your forehead. “Okay,” you breathed out.

After your father had gone, you stayed in the Ferrari hospitality, enjoying a cup of tea and helping yourself to not one but three scones, reading stuff on your phone and scrolling down Instagram. You texted a bit with Tom, apologising for not having been able to catch up with them all during the day, to which he replied he understood and asked how the meeting between Charles and your dad went. Charles came out of the briefing room at almost 7pm, with a tired air on his face and yawning like a toddler. You smiled at his ruffled hair and grabbed your bag before joining him and Andrea to jump into a car appointed by Ferrari to drive back to the hotel. You hadn’t really thought about grabbing his hand on the walk over and he had happily swung your intertwined hands between the two of you, throwing back the image of two children in love in the school’s playground. You didn’t care if anybody was seeing you. You didn’t care if the chatter was going to go around the paddock, if tea would be “spilled”. All you cared about was the little rough patch between his thumb and his index finger and how it was scratching the skin between your own thumb and index finger.

“Was it okay that I took your hand when we left?” You timidly asked. “It was perfect,” Charles sighed, sleepily.

You closed your eyes, letting your eyelashes rest on Charles’ jaw.

“Goodnight, girlfriend,” Charles murmured. “Goodnight, boyfriend.”

You didn’t need to talk about it. You didn’t need to question it. The decision had been made a few days ago, you realised, and you had both made it without telling the other. You met each other midway, and it was perfect as it was.

Your boyfriend was now happily sleeping at your side, blissful and a heart full of fondness for you, only matched by the one you held in your heart for him.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

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[strangesickness]

AU where richie is a struggling actor doing odd jobs to make ends meet who has started putting up every possible craigslist ad he can think of (lawn mower, house egger, tutor, party performer, etc.) and he desperately adds "private investigator" one night.

myra and eddie are recently married and he's been staying at the office later and later each night, myra is convinced he's cheating and hires richie to investigate. she's paying pretty well so richie agrees despite hardly remembering putting the ad up and having no idea what he's doing.

he goes to follow eddie around after work when he's working overtime he just goes for a jog, gets some coffee and does some extra work done at the coffee shop, then goes home. richie reports back but myra wants him to keep watching for a bit longer.

meanwhile, eddie knew myra hired a private investigator since he handles the credit card bills, so he was just hoping after a few days of richie just seeing him do nothing of note she'd accept it and move on. but she doesn't, and by the end of the first week he is losing his mind over this annoying guy trailing after him everywhere he goes during what is supposed to be the relaxing part of his day, especially since he has to pretend to be getting work done where he'd normally go on a longer run or hang out with friends or catch a movie or something.

after a week he's so sick of it that he just calls richie out and tells him he knows he's there and he will get police involved if he doesn't stop. but richie is just so friendly and has a wicked pout and he's actually kind of funny and now that he's looking at his big awkward smile up close he almost seems familiar?? and eddie feels kind of bad about trying to cut off what is clearly a pretty important source of income for him.

so they start hanging out after eddie's done work, richie can still get his weird little creep shots of eddie doing work, but eddie doesn't have to miss out on the other stuff he actually wanted to be doing.

they end up hitting it off really well and eddie manages to rope richie into jogging a grand total of once, but richie will just get some writing done while he waits for eddie to finish then they'll get coffee or go to the movies or something.

-they start hanging out at richie's apartment too, playing video games and cooking and dancing around the kitchen

-eventually eddie realizes he needs to divorce myra because he has about 8000 times more fun with richie than he ever has with myra

-he gives up the house in the divorce and moves in with richie

<3

[eddiesxangel]

Hellooo today is my birthday, sooo since im alone and nobody came to wish me a happy birthday,cab you do one where Eddie is the only one that remembers reader birthday and decides to reunite the whole Hellfire club to give a party that reader (us) deserve 🌹🌹🥳😘🥰

OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETHEART 🩷🫂 ( I hope I can help with the birthday blues 🥺) my birthday is also this month, Gemini twin! ♊️ 👯‍♀️

Sometimes, you dread today because the impending disappointment is always there... Did you expect everyone to wish you a happy birthday? No. But you still want at least one person to acknowledge your day, especially your best friend.

Yet, here we are, 3:00pm and still not a call or mention of anything remotely birthday related.

You impatiently watched the clock that hung on the wall of Family Video tick, watching the minutes pass so slowly. It was dead, but what did you expect? It's three in the afternoon on a Wednesday, and not many people come in on weekdays to be in with... Until you see a familiar metalhead bopping past the large window and through the door, making his grand entrance.

"Sorry, I'm late, sweetheart." He schmoozed as we walked towards you at the checkout counter.

"It only took you long enough," you rolled your eyes, suppressing the feeling of our heart fluttering; maybe he remembered after all.

"Come on, what kind of best friend would I be if I didn't at least apologize for returning this fantastic movie six days late?" he smirked as he leaned an elbow on the counter.

There it was, the inevitable disappointment. He had forgotten.

With a heavy sigh, you take the slasher film from his grasp and think for a split second about not waving the late fee.

"This was supposed to be in on May 30th... It's now the fifth." You deadpan, hoping maybe something clicks.

"I know that sweetheart, but now I have an excuse to see my best friend at work on her birthday." He smiles knowingly.

The breath you didn't know you were holding gets released, and you cannot help but smile.

"You didn't think I had forgotten?!" Eddie steps back dramatically while metaphorically clutching his pearls.

"Well, since you're the first one to acknowledge my birthday and it's..." you look at the clock you've been watching all shift. "3:49pm. Yea, I didn't think anyone would have remembered." You look down, playing with your nails.

"What do you mean the first to acknowledge your birthday?"

"Exactly that," you shrugged.

" You mean like no one has said happy birthday yet?" He raised a curious brow. " Not Dustin, Mike, Max, Erica?" He could go on bit you cut him off by shaking your head no.

"Well, I am sure glad I got to be the first." He smiles, and you can't help but smile back. Eddie has always been a good friend. Ever since you met in high school when you became a part of the Hellfire club, you've been inseparable ever since.

The back door opens, catching both your and Eddie's attention, and Steve walks out, chewing on a half-eaten sandwich.

"Sup, Munson," He mumbles.

"Come in to wish y/n here a Happy Birthday," he emphasized, and you could not help but roll your eyes.

"Today is your birthday?!" He almost choked on his food. " Why didn't you say something!?"

"It's not a big deal."

"It is! and it makes me look like a total ass."

"Steve, stop. You're not an ass... Doofus, maybe, but not an ass." You giggle.

"I'll give you that because it's your birthday. Happy Birthday"

"Thanks, Stevie"

"So, any big plans? He asks, looking at you, then to Eddie, then back at you.

"Umm, no, not really."

"Yes"

You and Eddie say in unison, and you look at your friend quizzically.

" Don't make any plans for Saturday night, okay?" he taps the counter before taking off.

"Okay? Bye?" You wave after him, confused as ever.

"He's so weird." Steve looks to you.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

*

The rest of the week was average and went by quickly. The only thing Eddie told you was that you were expected to come to his apartment at 7:30 p.m. Which you did.

You knocked on the door and heard Eddie shushing people from the other side. With a huge grin on his face, he leads you into the apartment, and then around the corner, you're ambushed by your friends yelling, "Surprise!"

"Oh my god, what is this?!" you smile, this was very unexpected. Everyone was in their old Hellfire shifts and stood around a table that had been set up for a game of DND with some gifts beside it on the floor.

"We are celebrating your birthday." Eddie nudges your shoulder.

Tears threaten to form as you take in the sweet gesture Eddie set up for you.

"You did this from me?" You try not to sniffle but fail.

"Of course he did!" Dustin pipes in.

"Happy Birthday," Mike smiles. and the rest follow suit.

"Please tell me you didn't get me presents." You notice the gift bags sitting beside the table.

"Of course we did! What kind of friends would we be?"

"One's who forgot her actual birthday until I reminded them," Eddie sneered.

"It 's okay, we are all here now together; thank you guys, this means the world." And it did. Nothing meant more to you than spending time with the people you loved, playing a game you all love, and having fun.

It had been so long since the last Hellfire meeting, and you were so happy they could all make time from their busy lives to spend it with you.

"Ok, let's eat and then play!" Eddie turns to the kitchen, and you follow.

"Thank you, Eddie. I don't know how else I can show you how grateful I am for you."

"No need to thank me, sweetheart. What are friends for?" He leans in and gives you a wet kiss on the cheek, making that the second time this week Eddie's made your heart flutter.

[pianocat939]

Ok this isn't my usual content, but like hear me out. And no, this isn't like anything character related-

Just think of it...as like a scenario to fill in ig Girlie I don't fucking know, I'm just spewing words

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, mentions of violence

Ok so imagine.

There's like this drive. We'll call it Chestnut drive.

Just a typical neighbourhood street.

And on the last house, there's a married couple.

The husband, is like some super scary, really cold guy. He hates the world except for maybe his own wife. And he's a monster too- *ahem he was a thug back in his school days* But he is a handsome fucker.

And then you got the wife. Who's really nice, and never has any problems. Honestly, she's the one usually having to hide her husband's crimes.

Enter MC, who's a single person, getting the first ever house. Which ended up being right next to theirs. Everybody else doesn't go near their house, because of the husband. And yet, MC is totally clueless and ends up watching their feral dog in their yard.

The wife notices first, and strikes up conversation. She's eager to have someone new to talk to. She bakes desserts sometimes, and constantly tries to offer them to MC.

Guess who she gushes all about MC to? That's right- her husband. At first he's like creeped out and even a little jealous. But after watching you through your living room window a few nights a week, he’s realized why she’s so intrigued.

He finds MC so cute, all alone in their house. With no one but themselves really. Maybe the occasional friend over. In a way, he starts to grow protective of them, just like how he is with his wife.

Meanwhile, the wife is just obsessed to have someone to talk to who isn’t terrified of her husband. She’s constantly giving affection she tries to pass it off as platonic when honestly it’s borderline romantic

Their conversations at dinner went from a bit mundane to just simply rambling about you. Wondering which bedroom you should take, or if they should expand theirs completely.

Soon they invite you over to their house often. Just for the occasional meal or tea. Even showcasing their feral dog. (Tiny dog may I add)

MC doesn’t notice, but soon the couple’s house has little things that they like. If they like art? A few paint tubes or high-end coloured are thrown around the house. If they like music? Wow- they suddenly got a Steinway grand piano for them to play around with.

The husband is constantly checking if MC’s ok. Making sure they dress properly for the weather before they go back to their house. In any extreme weather conditions (blizzard, hurricane, rain- a shit ton of rain) he’ll just show up to their house with groceries.

The wife seems to love giving little cheek kisses and hugs. Always finding ways to present her cooking. She likes buying the occasional clothing item for them. Just something she thought would look quite fitting on them.

It’s all too late at some point, because the husband will haul them over his shoulder if they try to run away. He’ll carry them to their now big bedroom, enough for 3 people to share.

He’ll beat up anyone that tries looking for them. He doesn’t have those muscles for nothing.

The wife is just so happy to have MC in their bedroom. Giving snuggles and lots of coos of affection.

And with a kiss goodnight from both of them, MC finds themselves sandwiched between the two. Unable to move from the husband’s arms, or push off the wife who’s laying on top of them.

MC should just consider themselves as newly-wedded to this strange but surprisingly…functional couple.

(HELP- I JUST FELL DOWN A PIT OF SELF-INDULGENCE)

(I have so many ideas for this bullshit but I also have never written anything non-fandom related on this blog before…Other than my shitposts)

(Assuming I’ll probably make more, I’ll put the tag ‘Husband Wife Trio’ lmao)

- Celina

[muzanswifey]

Can I nsfw request headcannons of Dragon!Kagaya x Reader please? It’s fine if you ignore it!

Dragon!Kagaya x Fem!Reader

18+

Oooo this will be interesting 🤔 ive never done anything nsfw for kagaya before so lets give it a try

Warnings: Smut, dragon au, kagaya is still blind, handjobs, blowjobs, riding, cowgirl, knotting, creampie, thank-you sex

Unlike most dragons, he’s quite accustomed to human ways and is thoroughly educated on the differences of the two species

But that isn't to say he doesn't feel the same instincts and urges as all other dragons do

So when you wander into his cave one quiet night, the first thing he can even think of doing is keeping you there

He does everything he can to extend your stay, feeding you, letting you take a nice warm bath in one of the many hot springs that decorate his abode, warning you of the many dangers that lurk around at night, yet you still insist you must get going, not wanting to be a bother

But he continues to urge you, practically begging you not to leave, and he's just been so nice that you give in

You stay for a grand total of 3 weeks, your every attempt at leaving met with a sad expression and worry from him, but you push past the sadness it brings you, finally leaving the way you came

It gets darker a lot faster than you thought it would, suspicious sounds filling your ears at every turn, when you reach a dead end of stone, absolutely certain this wasn't her last time, you start to worry

Several dragons corner you in, snarling and snapping at you dangerous close and you scream out

Just when they're about to grab you, 2 more individuals sweep in, swiping at your tormenters and shooing them away

As everything settles down, they come better into view, two large males, one hellishly large and blank eyes, the other a bit shorter with crazy white hair and scars, your confused as you stare at them until another comes out from the foliage, who you quickly recognize to be Kagaya

He softly asks if you are alright and you can't stop yourself from leaping into his arms, so overwhelmed and traumatized by what had just happened

Your still sobbing as he takes you back to his cave, his rumbling purrs deep within his chest and tender cooing eventually calming you down

As he cradles you in his arms as he lays you both down into his nest, your overcome with a sense of intimacy you've never quite felt before, it runs all the way from you tingling brain down to your curling toes, a wave of slickness rushing out of your core

He must be able to sense it as he nuzzles into you, bathing you in his scent while mumbling sweet praises into your ear

You giggle as you fall deeper into him, unable to stop yourself from lazily humping at his lap, hazy stupidity glazing over your brain quickly with the growing vibrations of his purr

You're the first to undress yourself, letting his hands roam about to memorize your body with touch rather than sight, then you push his robe open, taking his thickening cock in your hand and pumping it slowly, he groans aloud, leaning into your neck to bite and lick carvings into your neck

You drop down to take his member into your mouth, bobbing up and down to suck him until he finally reaches full hardness and twitches harshly

You ride him gently, rocking your hips to and fro and unintentionally stimulating his growing knot with your puffy cunt lips, he pants underneath you, worshipping your perfection and encouraging you to take what you need from him

When the time comes, he warns you, prompting you to slap your hips down a top his and swallowing his knot into your tight heat

He practically whimpers, humping up into you and jostling where you're locked, the movement has you whining, throwing you into your own orgasm and further milking him into your womb

You lay a top him exhausting, both of you peacefully falling asleep with his cock and cum stuck inside of you and his voice lulling you to unconsciousness with sweet nothings

[partyinthemysterymachine]

GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS (it's october 3) so you know what that means that's right,

HAPPY GOOMTDAY!!!!!!!!!!

YEEEEHAW

HAPPY GOOMTDAY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE!!!!! THAT'S RIGHT my beauties and beasts, it is OCTOBER 3 which means my dear GOOMT my love my pain my light of my whole life has turned a grand total of FOUR YEARS OLD today!!!!!

u all probably thought i forgot or didn't have anything planned. well NO i just couldn't think of what to draw until uhhh five hours ago. I AM PUTTING HARRY MASON AND JAMES SUNDERLAND SILENT HILL GOOMT INTO A JAR AND I'M ABOUT TO SHAKE 'EM

thank you A L L, each and everyONE of you out there who has EVER taken the time to check out my funny little Silent Hill story, has ever gotten a kick out of it, who liked what they saw, who read for a bit and then stopped for whatever reason, who continues to read, who has commented or never commented at all-- just. absolutely EVERYONE who has been a support in whatever way, THANK YOU. THANK YOU and I LOVE YOU ALL IMMENSELY, and i hope you're just as excited and looking forward to the next year of Nonsense (GOOMT Edition™️) we have ahead of us.

AN EXTRA SPECIAL THANK YOU TO MY BESTIE AND EDITOR, REN. as you all know how the Lore™️ goes, she made the Big Mistake of offering to edit ch10 for me and life for her went downhill since, LOL. GOOMT is her bastard stepchild as much as it is my own. she has put hours upon hours of combined days and weeks (and murdering me in gdocs) into editing GOOMT purely because she said she wants to. it is a massive undertaking and honestly i'm grateful beyond my wildest living years, and those yet to come.

cheers to me, and cheers to YOU, for bringing me and GOOMT into your life, and i hope that we will see each other not only in the next chapter (coming soon i pwommy i PWOMMY), but this same time next year, and the year after that.. and the year after that, in good health and life. you are all so precious and priceless to me, in more ways than one :3c!

I LOVE U ALL, CHEERS, GOOD HEALTH, GOOD FRIENDS, AND BLESS 🥺🥺🥺🙏💖💖💖💖🙏🙏💖💖💖💖🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚

[shankhachil]

Countdown to JEE (Main): Week 1/33

Yep, I'm doing it. Forgive my attempt at aesthetics (but if you like it, then don't).

I've been a bit less productive than usual this week, mostly because I've been spending far too much time on Discord — should really cut down on that — and also staying up late, which has a terrible impact on my daily activity level.

But, well, it's going.

Targets: 3 topics of each subject covered per week; 400 questions solved per week, at least 80 of each subject

Topics covered:

Physics: Potential and Capacitance; Motion in One and Two Dimensions (2/3)

Chemistry: Halogen Derivatives; Alcohols, Phenols, and Ethers; Chemical Thermodynamics and Thermochemistry (3/3)

Mathematics: Definite Integrals; Area Under a Curve; Matrices (3/3)

Looks like I'll need to work on Physics, then. I'm a bit behind with respect to Allen, but my physics tuition is helping me along in that regard so no need to worry.

Questions solved:

Physics: - Allen Electrostatics module, JEE (Main) archives — 34 questions, 30 correct - Tuition Potential and Capacitance module — 192 questions, 172 correct - Tuition Vectors and Motion in Two Dimensions module — 108 questions, 102 correct Total: 334/80 questions, 304 correct

Chemistry: - Allen Thermodynamics (Part 2) module, O1, O2 and JEE (Main) archives — 82 questions, 76 correct - Himanshu Pandey, Alcohols, Phenols, and Ethers chapter — 110 questions, 93 correct Total: 192/80 questions, 169 correct

Mathematics: - Allen Definite Integrals module, O1, O2, O3 and O4 — 75 questions, 61 correct - Allen Area Under a Curve module, O1 — 30 questions, 23 correct Total: 105/80 questions, 84 correct

GRAND TOTAL: 631/400 questions, 557 correct

I've been having some trouble with calculus, as you can see. I'll need to work on that as we go. Nothing to do but practise.

Upcoming tests:

07/05/24 (Friday) — test at physics tuition center. Topics: Motion in One and Two Dimensions; Units and Dimensions; Potential and Capacitance; Chemical Thermodynamics and Thermochemistry; Alcohols, Phenols, and Ethers.

09/05/24 (Sunday) — Aryabhatta National Maths Competition

That's all for this week.

[meeeeeeese]

Moose's Guide to Quick and Easy Gold

So I get the vibes in the community here that a bunch of people don't really know all the tips and tricks to making easy money, so I thought I'd do a writeup on some of the small ways I make gold in Guild wars 2

Trick 1: You have wealth you don't know about

An inportant thing about Gw2 is that a lot of the wealth it gives out isn't in actual gold but in materials that you can then sell for gold. For a lot of people I think its easy to just click 'deposit all materials' and then forget about it. For me personally I have only 100 gold in my wallet but If I were to empty out my material storage I'd gain an additional 300 or so gold. The site GW2 efficiency is really helpful for telling you what high value items you might be holding on to, though It takes a bit of setting up.

Trick 2: Sell Orders!

Admittedly this is something I'm bad about, but if you can delay your gratification, but when you sell something don't fulfill someone elses buy order and instead, set up a sell order. I'll give you up to 10% more gold out of everything you sell

Ok now onto the acutal wealth generation methods

Trick 3: Send your least favorite character to the New Kaineng Jumping Puzzle

Jumping Puzzles in EoD reward jade runestones from their final chest, which go for 80 silver on the trading post.

Find the wiki page to get you through the jumping puzzle here, though there are often commanders on the New Kaineng lfg offering teleport to friend transport to the end of the puzzle. Basically you get a character to the end chest and every reset log in on that character and get your free! runestone, almost a gold for ~30 seconds of work

(as a note you only get the runestone once per day per account so don't send multiple characters there)

Trick 4: Leivas Hands out Gold, make sure to collect it

Ok not actually but he may as well. So this guy who hangs out in Arborstone, once you've gotten the Globalization mastery, will sell you 5 antique summoning stones every week for a grand total of 10 green prophet shards, 10 unusual coins, 100 imperial favours, 7000 karma and 1 gold. The summoning stones can then be sold on for ~3 gold each, netting you a profit of 14 gold for going up to an npc and pressing 'f' (or whatever your interact key is)

Trick 5: fast and profitable metas you should be doing daily

Let me introduce you to my favorite wiki page:

the event timers list

This lists out every meta event and world boss that'll be happening soon and all of them will give you at least something, and the meta's from HoT onwards awards you a hero's choice chest that'll contain at least one of these valuable materials to choose from: amalgamated gemstone (60 silver), jade runestone (80 silver), ancient ambergris (1 gold 70 silver) or an antique summoning stone (3 gold). It should be noted the last 3 only appear in the EoD meta's, for all other times choose the amalgamated gemstone.

With that aside there are 3 events in particular that you should try to get done that'll take 10 minutes or less

first up is the Legendary Ley-Line Anomaly, the naked man. The timer's page tells you which zone it'll spawn in and when it does you have to seek it out and murder it. Mounts are very recommended because this thing dies fast. Anyway when you kill it, it drops 2 things: a mystic coin (1 gold 20 silver) and some vendor trash worth 50 silver, pretty gold for 5 minutes of work

next is Dragonstorm. It happens once every 2 hours starting from the eye of the north and affords you the opportunity to beat up Ryland. If you join the public option you join a crowd of up to 50 other people and its easy enough that you could even afk if you wanted (though that would be very rude). Anyway once you murder the champions and blast the dragons you get to watch them share a passionate kiss as the die and you then get 2 gold straight up, 6 memories of aurene (worth 1.5 gold in total) as well as a chance to win the lottery and get ascended weapons or, even rarer, the very expensive eye infusions

Finally is Tequatl the Sunless, a world boss in Sparkfly Fen that awards you 1 gold straight up as well as a chance at an ascended weapon as well as a bunch of materials and unidentified gear

speaking of which all the other events give unidentified gear too and they aren't actually terrible rewards, you can get a pretty penny from selling them.

Trick 6: Daily Rewards

Firstly, just logging in every day gives you a sadly decent amount of income, mostly in laurels and mystic coins. Coins can just be sold if you're after cold, laurels can be spent on a variety of stuff. And if you're looking to turn a profit, HERE are the best ways to do so.

Also, do your daily achievements people, sometimes they're a pain but the daily completionist gives 2 gold as well as 15 achievement points, more than most other achievements in the game. Also they drive you towards content you wouldn't do otherwise (the daily achievements are the reason why I've done most of the jumping puzzles). Also If you're bad at any of the dailies on offer, usually a bunch of other people are also trying to do dailies and they're often willing to help. I see mesmers porting people through the daily JPs all the time.

Trick 7: Spirit shards can be converted to Gold???

I admit, this isn't something I do myself but if you're accumulating spirit shards like I am there are methods to turn them into gold

They're listed HERE

(again, this isn't something I've tried myself, I can't vouch for how well it works and all the methods require a starting amount of gold. But if you're desperate it might be something to consider

But I want more Gold, how do I get it?

If your looking for serious gold farming there are probably better guides than this but here are a few pointers to start raking in the money

1: As far as I understand, Drizzlewood Coast is the most profitable activity in the game, gold per hour wise. Runs take a while and you kind of have to pay attention to maximise gains but, if gold's what you want this is a good option.

2: Look for meta trains, I notice them happening a lot around reset, basically its a group that goes from meta to meta doing them in sequence. There are a few guilds that do them every day so if you see a train, chances are its on at the same time every day. I find them to be pretty chill, offer some nice variety in content and offer good rewards as well.

3: Fractals. Yeah I know this is getting into endgame content but doing T4 fractal dailies every day gives you around 20 gold straight up, a bunch of materials worth even more gold and a decent chance at ascended armor and weapons (and so many ascended trinkets, seriously at this point they get auto-salvaged if they drop)

Apart from that, pretty much everything in this game gives you some amount of rewards, even if they aren't entirely obvious, so don't stress too much, provided you aren't roleplaying in the serrated blade or whatever (Though good on you for having fun!) you're likely earning some amount of income. Even if it's only in materials

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I've been feeling inclined to vent about the general concept of "substance use" and "dependency" recently for no particular reason, and it's probably just my own brain finally processing some of the things that happened to me in The Bad Times but what the hell lets go with it.

I was pretty much straight edge until my mid 20s, no alcohol, cigarettes, weed, nothing. Then I got into a series of abusive relationships, nearly died of Mystery Diseases, and a pandemic happened right after. My life went from barely getting by in the world to bouncing between constant crises overnight. I was in therapy and had been for years, I had self care tools and was using them. I was medicated for all of my diagnosed mental health needs (ADHD wasn't on the record yet, so was still unmanaged, but I was doing my best behaviorally to keep on top of shit, obviously that stopped working fast). I worked full time plus going to school part time plus working part time at my internship for a grand total of about 90 hrs per week of work/school related obligations. I lived with several other people who I worked to support financially and who I needed to also support emotionally, and I still managed to run my household for the most part with minimal support except from wifey who was also working about 60-70 hour weeks at her own job to help us make ends meet and was only barely medicated and managed herself. I genuinely don't know when I slept or rested.

The first thing I tried was weed. I used edibles to sleep without nightmares or the anxieties that would keep me up for the rare few hours I had to rest. It also helped with the constant pain I was in. I would get high as fuck on a weed brownie or a pre roll on the one day off I had each month so I didn't have to think or feel or exist because it was the only way I could find to genuinely relax anymore without worrying about the growing mountain of Life Responsibilities that I could never catch up on. Life eased a bit, and I kept doing that.

One day, I had a rare night off, and wifey was going to go out to a club with some friends. I hadn't been anywhere fun in years. I hadn't had time or money or energy. I was desperate to see people and relax and maybe sance a little. A pandemic was on, and the local clubs were having discounts like mad. We went and got shitfaced on cocktails that cost less than lunch at a diner for a round and I made out with a cute girl and I came home laughing for the first time in years. From then on, we would keep a cheap six pack of something in the fridge and every once in a while I would down 2-3 and get fucked up for a bit between that and the weed. Life felt a bit easier and I kept going.

But behind the scenes the cracks kept forming. It wasn't the substances that were causing them. And they weren't even what was making it worse. But they were letting me pretend those cracks weren't there. Letting me run from a reality I knew I couldn't fix. By the time I realized how bad things had gotten, how deep into the pit I was, I was living in a tent in the woods, cooking my dinners on a campfire with my family, throwing back weed and cheap booze like my life depended on it because god what the fuck else do you have when a creek and a rainstorm are the closest you get to a shower and your bed is a pile of blankets in a military surplus tent with all the warm bodies piled together so you don't fucking freeze at night?

I was still working full time though, and for those hours, I had to be sober. No if ands or buts about it. And I was okay with that line, even if it left me riddled with anxiety and trauma and stress 16 hours a day while I worked my doubles in the ER and came home to try and scrub the COVID off in the creek before I went back to the tent. And then a coworker asked me if I wanted to join her on a cigarette break. I did. I desperately wanted to feel normal. To chitchat and talk about nothing important, and feel the breeze on my face. So I bummed a cigarette and smoked with her. That one cigarette became 3 a day. Then 6. Then, a whole pack. A nervous habit of sucking on a cigarette or a vape whenever I needed to fidget or relax while still being sober. It's been 3 years now and I've tried to quit half a dozen times but here I am in my fucking home office pulling on a cigarette like it's my last hope of comfort.

I don't drink anymore though. My body won't let me. Blah blah allergic reactions blah blah. Fine. I kept trying for a while, allergies be damned. But it stopped being worth it. Sometimes the cigarettes aren't worth it either. I choke on every inhale and my body dry heaves like it knows I'm putting in something it doesn't want. On those days I don't smoke. I don't think there have been many days I've gone without weed. I honestly don't know what to do with myself on the days I abstain. Like I do? I can cope. I just. I'm still so tired.

The part of me that broke all those years ago and said fuck it, lets see what drugs do, is still recovering. It's still resting and healing. Some days are better than others. Some days it does fine and it says "lets fuckin rawdog the day my mans" and I do, and it's great. Other times it's so small and frail that I know if I tried I might break it again, and I just can't risk that.

I've been told before that this is dependency. Maybe even misuse. I've been told by others that this is the point. If it's helping, then let it. I don't know what the answer is. Some days I resent not being the person I was before I started using weed and cigarettes to get through the day. I've tried other things too, and they've never done much for me, so I never went back. Does that mean that I'm not "dependent" I'm "self-medicating"? Is that a good or a bad thing? Does it fucking matter? I honestly don't know. I wish it didn't feel like it mattered. I wish that I could go through my days and feel like I had more of a choice. I actually miss being able to get high lol. Like weed hasn't given me an actual high in years, it just. Helps me get through things a little better. But how much am I really willing to keep living that way? How much of my life do I *want* impacted by whether or not I can smoke or have some thc? Some days it's fine. Some days I'm bothered by it.

The thing that gets me every time though is how at every single point when I made the choice to pick up a new "substance" it was because I was desperate, overwhelmed, and completely without alternatives. I knew full goddamn well every time what I was doing. I had years of both anti-drug war knowledge and addiction/recovery knowledge in my brain and I understood that I was at my most vulnerable, I was my most at risk. That making this choice could be fine or could be life changing or could be somewhere in between and it was worth being self aware as I did it. But I just. I was so tired. I was so broken down. I just needed to rest. I needed to feel something other than the stress and fear for a while. And no one was offering me anything else that made a dent. Trust me. I tried.

I don't say this to suggest to people that Drugs Are The Answer. I genuinely don't think they are. I still wish every day I had never picked up that first cigarette. I still wish that I felt well enough to live my life without needing help to rest and recover. But I can't blame anyone who makes the choices I did. I can't doubt the feelings of need and desperation that often drive us to interact with our support tools the way we do. I've also found over the years, that it's not just "substances" that people will turn to for help with avoidance the way I did. Avoidance is so very very human, and the way I skirted around acknowledging how beyond my capacity for repair my life was getting (even while actively working to resolve those things) had more to do with mh inability to acknowledge that I was failing people I loved than what tool I was using to avoid the acknowledgement. It could just as easily have been my work, or video games, or shopping, or gardening, or anything else in the world that allowed me to isolate myself in a world that felt smaller and simpler for a while so I could take a break from problem solving the way the rest of my world was steadily crumbling around me. I chose weed, alcohol and nicotine. Other people will make other choices. But maybe we all sometimes run away from problems we realize we can't solve until one day we're backed into a corner we can't run from. Maybe that's just human. Maybe the drugs just made me feel less like shit while I ran. And maybe that's part of how I survived to make things right for myself.

I really don't know. I can't know.

What I do know is that I left the relationship that was destroying my life. I'm safe now, and wifey and I are doing much better now that our communication isn't being actively sabotaged. I'm doing much better now healthwise that the food in my home is consistently safe to eat for me and I'm not being left without any food at all on a semi-regular basis. I *am* still the primary breadwinner of the household, but it no longer feels as though I have to run the household itself on top of that, and I *am* consistently supported (encouraged even) to rest when needed, even if that is still hard for me to do. I've stopped drinking, and that does feel better. I spend less time and energy seeking substances and I *do* smoke fewer cigarettes less often even if I do still smoke sometimes. I feel happier and more stable than I think I ever have. My life is. Mostly working? And pretty good now. The cracks have been able to heal in ways that are, if not structurally sound, at least working up to it. I am fragile, but making progress. Does that mean I made the right choices? The wrong ones? Will I ever know?

I dunno comrade. But. We all do what we can, what we must, and what we can figure out. Maybe judgement and shame about all that just doesn't help.

[theresattrpgforthat]

THEME: Botanical Adventures

This week’s games are all plant or plant-themed. Whether Ferns, Flowers, or Fungi, if you have a green thumb you might enjoy these games!

Plant Girl Game, by Dominique Dickey.

Your mother’s garden is crowded with succulents and sometimes—when the timing is just right, when your whole family is ready—one of those succulents emerges from the garden as a human child. This is how you came to be: you climbed out of the soil, between the ages of ten and thirteen, and found your family ready to love you. 

Plant Girl Game is a cozy tabletop roleplaying game about a family of plant children working together to prevent an ecological disaster. You don’t have to be a girl, but you do have to be a plant. Your character’s gender is not essential to the game. In fact, the real plant girl is your mom—the kind-hearted witch who grows children in her garden.

Plant Girl Game puts a lot of focus on building a world that is fun and engaging to play in. It emphasizes the usefulness of safety tools, and provides a list of questions to custom-create your very own Plant mom, as well as the place you’re growing up in. The ashcan play-kit comes with three genera, although there are nine total to choose from in the full version. Characters have 3 stats, which they will add to a d6 when they roll to determine how they succeed or fail. Success can come with complications or advantages, so you have a lot of room for layered storytelling!

Mossy Mechanics, by Sinta Posadas / Diwata ng Manila

You've seen the power of the Succulent Sorcerers, you've experienced how a Petal Paladin enacts their order, and you have been beholden to the strength of the Bonsai Brawlers - now, be enchanted by the prowess of the Mossy Mechanics!

This is actually a series of recommendations, rather than one. The Planted RPG series contains four iterations with a simple premise: you are small plants on a grand quest. In Succulent Sorcerers, you use your magic to defend Mother Succulent. In Petal Paladins, you are defenders of the plants that cannot defend themselves. In Bonsai Brawlers, you are miniature trees who have dedicated themselves to a special fighting style in order to protect what you love. Finally, in Mossy Mechanics, awakened by the “Other Mother” and faced with a decision: will you support her plan for world domination, or will you work against her? 

The basic mechanics are the same for each game. There are two stats: Resist, and Raw Magic. Characters contain three hit points, and two points of Rot. In order to push yourself to do better, you can spent a point of Rot to automatically succeed. If you fill up your Rot, take one damage and add a dot to either Resist or Raw Magic. Each game also comes with character options as well as game flavour in the form of character classes, dark secrets, roll-tables for scenarios, and premise to get the game going!

Orchidelirium, by aethercorp Games.

Take on the mantle of a grizzled and hardy orchid hunter in 1865, traversing the depths of unchartered territories in search of rare, elusive, and above all, expensive orchids for your shady employer, J. Carmichael & Associates.

For the Games Master, Orchidelirium provides a simple ruleset, an adventure, and improvisation tools to help build an adventure of discovery at the table.

Orchidelerium is mostly an adventure game with orchids added in to give a unique flavour to the genre. However, playing cards add a unique mechanic that enable setting and adversary generation  in such a way that both the GM and the players have a bit of an oracle to help guide their way. The book comes with a lovely centrefold useful for keeping track of the obstacles the group will run up against along the way, as well as a reference page to enable quick look-up of prompts. All in all, a lovely book!

Little Garden, by Five Points Games.

Little Garden is a game about decline, corruption and perhaps even a little hope at the end of it all.

Play as Nomes, helpful garden Spirits, trying to maintain their bucolic home after the absence of the Garden's creator. Fight back dangerous beasts, vagrants from the encroaching wilds, and tend to the animals and other denizens that make their home with you. At least, for as long as you can, that is. The Wilds will not slow their encroachment, decline is inevitable.

This game is sorted into three rounds: Discovery, Deliberation, and Resolution. In the Discovery Round, the GM will introduce problems that the players will have to confront, using options from a series of GM moves to create obstacles. In Deliberation, players will use a pool of 8 d6s to take turns using moves from the Player options in order to confront the obstacles. At the end of the Deliberation round, the GM will resolve any un-resolved actions in a Resolution round before starting another turn with a fresh Discover Round. This will continue until one of three conditions are met, in which the game ends. If you like structured gameplay with an easy-to-read list and a theme of slow decline, you might want to check out this game!

Mushrooms & Magic, by FeatherBoy.

Years after a mysterious series of magical Churnings, kingdoms of Mushrooms awoke in a world left behind by the Ancients, surrounded by strange beasts and remnants of ancient technology from when "humans" walked the soils. In the years following, Mushroomkind fought and explored, discovered and innovated. But Mushrooms are small, and the world is large; much remains to be learned, and countless adventures are still to be had. Will you answer the call?

Mushrooms & Magic runs using a modified Powered by the Apocalypse / Monster of the Week-like system, with new mechanics for tool crafting, abilities, and several magic types. The game only requires one die - a d20 - and makes use of just four basic stats. While not necessarily rules-light, plenty of room is left within the game's structure for players to modify core abilities and attributes (and add their own!) as wanted within campaigns, and GM's are encouraged to have fun with the setting above all else.

Unlike the stats we’re used to seeing in PbtA games, Mushrooms & Magic uses a stat wheel, along with optional intermediary stats to cover actions that don’t seem to fit one solid option. Similar to many tabletop rigs, your character choice will influence options available to you - characters will pick both a Role and a Clade that embodies their character. A Role is similar to character class - it tells us something about what your character has to contribute. Clades indicate your character’s mushroom type, and give you a starting health and some innate talents - similar to Race in Dungeons & Dragons.  If you’re looking for some good fungal fun, I recommend Mushrooms & Magic!

The Wildsea, by Felix Isaacs and Ray Chou.

Some three hundred years ago the empires of the world were toppled by a wave of fast-growing greenery, a tide of rampant growth spilling from the West. This event, the Verdancy, gave rise to the world you’ll explore as you play - a titanic expanse of rustling waves and sturdy boughs known as the Wildsea.

Your character is a wildsailor, part of a crew cutting their way across the island-studded wilderness of the treetop sea on a vessel of your very own. You’ll clash with survivor cultures and wild beasts, scavenge and salvage for wreckage and trade-goods, chase rumours, and uncover secrets. The focus of this game is on exploration, progress, and change - you’ll define the world of the Wildsea as you sail it.

If you like giant forests, leviathan squirrels, and the rambunctious energy of a motley crew crawling its way through a tangle of branch and bramble, this is the game for you. The Wild Words system, birthed in this game, relies heavily on player contributions and small seeds called Whispers to generate new locations, obstacles, and treasure for your crew of wildsailors to explore, befriend, tame, and slay. The setting alone is worth the investment in this game.

[pastafossa]

The last day of 2023.

And holy shit has it been a chaotic ride, one which you all shared with me, or that's what it feels like!

The Major Moments:

Feb: Cato's cancer diagnosis and discovery of weird mutated cells that likely won't be explained until after he passes away. He's still with me, fortunately! No idea how much time he has left but I'm grateful for every second

April: a small leak in my dining room ceiling turned into a bigger leak which turned into a massive hole in the ceiling, at least it wasn't winter???

May: DD Born Again Photos give us all a goddamn heart attack

May: I FUCKING REACH MY OVERALL 1,000,000 WORD COUNT ON AO3. 🎊 🎉 🎊 Next stop is 1mill for TRT!

June: Went to my first con since Covid! Drove all the way down to Philly to see Charlie Cox, WHICH WAS FUCKING AMAZING, HE HELD THE RED THREAD FOR OUR PHOTO, MY FANFIC DREAMS HAVE COME TRUE, AND I TOLD HIM WHAT DD MEANS TO ME AND HE WAS SO NICE I COULD CRY

June: At that same con, I finally FINALLY got to meet my bff @wonderlandmind4 in person after many many many late nights of chatting, and we just CLICKED like we'd been friends for years, which I should have expected, but still! And then I got to meet a bunch of my readers, too! Best con experience EVER

July: enter Whoops Covid Finally Got Me After 3 Years But Charlie Was Worth It ™

July: Finally dusted off my draft of Pasta's First Dark Fic cause even if my brain was too fuzzy to write, I figured I could edit a bit. And I did! And was pretty happy with the results!

August: Shit Now There's A Long Covid Heart Issue And I Can't Be Seen Until Late November Thanks Covid ®

August: leak in the garage leads to me losing about 65% of all the beautiful, special woods pieces I'd gathered over the course of six years for carving. Within a week I am gifted a huge bin of wood from a kind soul at my local witchy shop

Sept: TRT's 6th anniversary!

Nov: I was slowly getting back into the swing of things, doing a bit of writing in between learning to manage whatever was going on with my heart (which we'll hopefully figure out in January when I get all the results of testing in Jan)

Early Dec, and the worst week of my life: mom got sick. Within one day she went from not feeling good to needing an ambulance. By the next day, she was in the ICU - flu induced double pneumonia that was interfering with her breathing and heart issues. And with one more day, she was put into an induced coma and ventilated, without any of us sure if she'd pull through. They told us she'd likely be under for two weeks, potentially longer even if she made it. The amount of messages and supportive comments I got from all of you, the talks I had with @wonderlandmind4 and @shouldbestudying41, just the general sense of having a community to help me means more than I can ever say as you all helped me through that terrible, horrible moment, even if it was just gently messaging me to remind me to try to eat.

Mid Dec: against ALL odds, Mom was off the ventilator in a week. By week 2, she was out of the ICU. By week 3? Off to the physical rehab center. She was there a grand total of 1 week before she was allowed to come home to finish her recovery. Early December was the worst moment of my life, and yet it was also bookended by the best Christmas of my life even if it was spent at the rehab center, because I got to have my mama back, and hug her and tell her I loved her and make jokes, and now she's home and we've been watching Christmas movies and eating grilled cheeses, and as far as I'm concerned, that's what the holiday is to me: not presents and snow and lights, but this moment, this time with her. 'In all the places you find love, it feels like Christmas.'

In just a few hours for me, it'll be 2024. I have no idea what to expect going forward, or even what to plan for, much less a resolution. I know I want to get back to TRT when mom's a bit better (she still needs a lot of help, understandably). I know there are wood carvings I want make; friends I want to visit; witchy events at my local shop I want to go to. But other than that... who knows? If I'm lucky, things will be calmer than this past year. But even if they aren't, at least I know I have dear friends, all of you, and my family, including Pasta Mama, to help me through it.

Goodbye, 2023. Hello, 2024.

[rookthorne]

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐬 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍!

you heard it right, chaos kittens! I'm in a silly goofy mood, and honestly, I am in need of some smiles. So, I thought why not have some fun with all my Bucky's? Why not learn a bit about what you guys love about our boys?

altogether, I have (and brace yourselves plus it may not be all that surprising):

18 COLLECTIONS

that's right, my insanity has spanned a total of 18 collections, with at least 4 more in the definite list that will be announced sometime soon.

these polls will last for a week, and then when they are done, I will be rounding up the top 3 of each of the 3 polls to do the finals, and then, when those are done, we will have the grand final!

so, without further ado, may I present the entry rounds for rookthorne's AU Tournament!

𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋 𝟏:

𝘉𝘐𝘒𝘌𝘙, 𝘉𝘖𝘋𝘠𝘎𝘜𝘈𝘙𝘋, 𝘋𝘙𝘐𝘍𝘛𝘌𝘙, 𝘍𝘈𝘙𝘔𝘌𝘙, 𝘍𝘐𝘙𝘌𝘍𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘛𝘌𝘙, 𝘐𝘕𝘊𝘜𝘉𝘜𝘚

𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋 𝟐:

𝘓𝘜𝘔𝘉𝘌𝘙𝘑𝘈𝘊𝘒, 𝘔𝘈𝘍𝘐𝘈, 𝘔𝘈𝘍𝘐𝘈 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘐𝘚𝘛, 𝘔𝘌𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘐𝘊, 𝘕𝘜𝘙𝘚𝘌, 𝘗𝘌𝘙𝘚𝘖𝘕𝘈𝘓 𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘐𝘕𝘌𝘙

𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋 𝟑:

𝘗𝘐𝘙𝘈𝘛𝘌, 𝘗𝘖𝘙𝘕𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙, 𝘚𝘛𝘙𝘌𝘌𝘛 𝘙𝘈𝘊𝘌𝘙, 𝘛𝘈𝘛𝘛𝘖𝘖, 𝘝𝘐𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎, 𝘞𝘙𝘐𝘛𝘌𝘙

𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋 𝟒:

𝘉𝘐𝘒𝘌𝘙, 𝘉𝘖𝘋𝘠𝘎𝘜𝘈𝘙𝘋, 𝘐𝘕𝘊𝘜𝘉𝘜𝘚

𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋 𝟓:

𝘔𝘈𝘍𝘐𝘈, 𝘓𝘜𝘔𝘉𝘌𝘙𝘑𝘈𝘊𝘒, 𝘗𝘌𝘙𝘚𝘖𝘕𝘈𝘓 𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘐𝘕𝘌𝘙

𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋 𝟔:

𝘗𝘖𝘙𝘕𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙, 𝘛𝘈𝘛𝘛𝘖𝘖, 𝘝𝘐𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋

𝘉𝘖𝘋𝘠𝘎𝘜𝘈𝘙𝘋, 𝘔𝘈𝘍𝘐𝘈, 𝘗𝘖𝘙𝘕𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙

𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐒

𝘔𝘈𝘍𝘐𝘈, 𝘗𝘖𝘙𝘕𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙, 𝘉𝘖𝘋𝘠𝘎𝘜𝘈𝘙𝘋

[thenon-fictiondays]

Hirano to Kagiura light novel translation 3-1

Chapter 3: Present.

Part 1

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“Long time, no see…well, not really, huh? Your casual clothes are cool, Hirano-san.”

At the meet-up spot just outside the ticket gate, Kagiura smiles carefreely.

When complimented this straightforwardly, Hirano can’t help but be flustered. His cheeks tinged with red, he replies, “Ah, you too,” raising a hand in greeting.

Their large bags are hard to handle when they’re walking side by side, and they almost collide.

After Hirano had gone home, they had talked on the phone almost every day in order to solidify their plans. Although they just talked for five minutes before lights out, he’s gotten used to hearing Kagiura’s voice over the phone, and his tone is different in person.

Now seeing the soft-spoken Kagiura face to face, Hirano gets the feeling he’s even taller than he remembered, which elicits from him a wry smile.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, yet Kagiura hasn’t even been absent that long.

Summer vacation hasn’t even been going on that long.

When Hirano had brought up going to the countryside to hang out with his kouhai, his mother had looked surprised, and his father had seemed amused.

After he finally received the taken-aback response of “Well, that came out of nowhere. I suppose it’s fine, though”, he’d realized the hypocrisy of him telling Kagiura to get permission from his parents.

And after I’ve been acting like an older brother to Kagi-kun.

He hadn’t shaken off the sheepishness of this blunder, and they made none of the conversation that usually follows after saying hello.

Hirano has two pieces of luggage, a gray Boston bag and a tote bag borrowed from his mother. Inside the tote bag is a hostess gift. The day after they’d discussed his trip, his mother had prepared something that would keep for a long time at room temperature.

When’s the right time to hand it over?

In his day to day life, he’s always playing the role of dorm senpai or disciplinary committee member, but in the grand scheme of things, he’s still only just a high schooler.

Playing in the river, swimming in the ocean, fireworks.

He had imagined how they’d spend time in the countryside, and had diligently researched how to get a ticket for the long-distance bus, but he hadn’t even considered the right way to give his greetings.

The night bus, with four seats to a row, leaves the terminal at 10:30; they expect to arrive at Kagiura’s countryside house at around 9:30 the following morning.

There is no way they won’t get hungry while traveling for roughly half a day.

Which is to say, as soon as they checked where to board the bus, Hirano and Kagiura decided to stock up on snacks at the convenience store.

As the two stand side by side in the blindingly-lit store, all the awkwardness of not seeing each other for a week melts away.

“I wonder if the 500 milliliter bottle of tea will be enough.”

“We’ll be stopping at a rest stop along the way, so we can probably buy more then.”

“Should I get karaage?”

“It’ll have a really strong smell.”

“Yeah, you’re right…what should I get, then…?”

It’d be prudent to get something that won’t spill easily, smell strongly, or make a loud noise when eaten, so they won’t bother the passengers around them.

Once they consider those conditions, their options are narrowed down quite a bit.

“You should get something that’ll keep you full overnight. Like onigiri or something.”

“That might be enough. Ah, I’m gonna get konbu.”

“You’re a fan of konbu, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Being away from school, in addition to being totally caught up in the excitement of the trip, makes the boundaries between senpai and kouhai fade away.

While they test out the various furnishings, each of their appetites subdued by onigiri as soon as they’d boarded the bus, the speakers crackle to life to announce that the interior lights will be shut off.

As they were instructed to do so as not to bother the passengers around them after the bus lights shut off, the reading lights flicker on all around the bus.

Hirano was among those who turned them on for the sheer novelty of it, but he had packed most of his belongings in the Boston bag, so he actually doesn’t have a book on hand.

Not quite ready to settle in yet, he looks to the side, where Kagiura has spread out a blanket and made himself completely at home.

He has turned his sling bag round to the front, as if trying to cradle his valuables. The seats must be cramped for the long-legged Kagiura.

“You’re not sleepy, are you?” His voice fading to a whisper, he adds on, “I kinda want to sleep since we ate all that food”, and his words are illustrated by the drowsy look in his eyes. There’s no helping it. It’s already past 11 o’clock.

Hirano turns off the reading light.

“...Now I’m kinda tired, too.”

Hirano spreads out his blanket, adjusts his footrest and reclining seat, and unfolds the eyemask he’d taken from his bag.

When he glances around the bus, there’s just a few people left who still have their lights on.

Hirano slowly opens his eyes, having become conscious of the tap tap of his arms being lightly poked. The aisleway lights are on, glaringly bright.

At some point the eye mask had slipped upward, and is now hanging on to the top of his head by just a hair.

“Hirano-san, we’re here—at the rest stop, I mean. Let’s go outside.”

The person whispering into his ear while gently touching his arms is Kagiura.

“Oh…Kagi-kun…”

He faintly remembers the schedule. The break at the rest stop is indeed late at night, around 1 a.m. They’d only gotten to sleep for a few hours. Hirano, who is bad with mornings at the best of times, normally wouldn’t be able to get up this early if the world was ending. But he’s been woken up by Kagiura, who is even worse at waking up in the morning, which never happens. He can’t very well just not get up.

Upon rising from his seat as prompted, he quickly realizes that his arms, bared by his short sleeves, are freezing. Just standing up is enough to get his blood moving again.

“They said the break will be 15 minutes. We’ll be more comfortable if we get off the bus and stretch. Just about everyone else’s already gotten off.”

Sure enough, when he looks around all the empty seats stand out. Walking up the narrow aisles to use the bathroom in the bus is an unappealing prospect, so it seems they’d be better off going outside.

When he follows Kagiura off the bus, the lights of the buildings shine brilliantly below the night sky as far as the eye can see. There are multiple buses stopped besides the one Hirano and Kagiura are taking, and the carpark is also bustling with personal automobiles.

“The night bus is colder than I expected.”

As they walk towards the facilities, Hirano regrets not having a long-sleeved shirt on hand.

“Yeah. If you only have that blanket, it’s a little chilly.”

It’s probably because of all the greenery. Even considering the fact that it’s night, it’s still the middle of summer, yet the open air is refreshingly cool.

“It doesn’t feel much like summer, does it?”

“It’d be nice if it felt like this during the day, too.”

As they walk, he stretches his wrists out and rolls them in relief. For Kagiura with his long legs, the seats in the bus are probably way too cramped.

Hirano had bought corn soup in a cup from a vending machine after quickly using the facilities.

He isn’t hungry, but it warms his stomach.

“Ouch!”

Even though he blew on it, it doesn’t cool down the way it would in wintertime.

As he lightly sips it to keep from burning himself, Kagiura, having returned from buying more onigiri, tilts his head.

“Hirano-san, are you gonna take that onto the bus?”

“Nah. The smell is pretty strong.”

“Can I eat some of it then? We only have three minutes left.”

“Geh. I’m leaving it to you, then.”

“You got it. I’ll take care of it for you!”

Kagiura’s refreshing smile brings his defined features into prominence, and he looks a bit like an idol. A pair of college-aged girls passing by whisper to each other, “God, he’s hot,” and “I know, right?”

After gulping down more than half, Kagiura hands the cup back to Hirano.

“It’s not hot anymore, so you should be good.”

Just as he said, when Hirano tilts the cup, he can feel the warmth where his lips touch the rim.

“Oh, you’re right.”

He drains the cup in two large sips and throws it out, and they hurry back to the bus.

Apart from the two of them, it looks like all the passengers have already returned to their seats. They made it back in the nick of time with one minute to spare.

After sharing a silent smile with Kagiura, Hirano pulls the blanket firmly up over his shoulders. There’s a short announcement, and then the bus quietly pulls out of the rest stop.

Thanks to the warmth in his stomach, he slips back into sleep easily.

****

They take their time eating a breakfast of curry at the cafe in front of the train station; the car comes to pick them up as they look around at the station tenants.

“You’ve come such a long way. Thank you for looking after Akira.”

The person who receives them fondly is Kagiura’s aunt.

Apparently, the plan is to head to a place they call the main house after stopping at a supermarket on the way for some shopping. Noticing that the side profile of the woman in the driver’s seat resembles Kagiura, Hirano says, “you look a lot like Kagi-kun,” to which Kagiura replies, “you think so?” with a grin.

Their affable expressions especially look alike.

Upon arrival and disembarkment, Hirano stands in front of the house in amazement.

“.....It’s huge!”

“Right? It makes it really easy for us all to get together.”

There are spots for six vehicles in the parking lot, a fact by which he’d been overwhelmed. And when taking in the full breadth of the house with wide eyes, he is once again at a loss for words at the vastness of Kagiura’s grandfather’s house.

He’d heard it was big ahead of time, but this is several times larger than the scale he was imagining.

The construction seems old, but it wouldn’t be out of line to call the meticulously maintained house a mansion.

Just as he’d expected from Kagiura’s description, the countryside spreads out around the house as far as the eye can see.

The sky is wide and open, and a river flows nearby.

Narrow irrigation channels for agricultural usage flow quite quickly, and it seems dangerous for small children.

“Wow…no way, this place is frickin’ huge. Do you guys have barbecues and stuff on that riverbank we passed by earlier?”

“I haven’t. It’s easy to get down into the river there, and there’s a lot of fish and other critters, so we play in the water there a lot.”

“Huh...”

The pathway leading to the entrance is paved, so he looks around at their surroundings without worrying about getting tripped up. The buildings are set quite far apart from one another, and he can’t even begin to guess the distance.

Through the front door that had been left open, he just catches a glance at the more than ten pairs of shoes lined up. The foyer itself is also wide, as is the entryway step.¹ It looks as if someone had reproduced it from a picture of a classic Japanese building.

“We’re home!”

“Pardon the intrusion.”

Following Kagiura’s lead, their larger luggage is left in the entryway for the time being. Hirano takes from his tote bag only the hostess gift and heads into the house after Kagiura.

They are greeted by a group of small children.

“Akira-kun!”

“Akkii!”

“Oh, I haven’t seen you guys since spring break!”

Going by their ages, they might be his cousins? It seems as though Kagiura is acting like the adult of this group, and his expression looks more mature.

But where are the actual adults?

Kagiura’s aunt, who’d driven them here, had gone around to a side door, so they had parted ways a bit before reaching the entryway.

Who should I give this to?

The presence of the paper bag, the corner folded down, has made him uncharacteristically antsy.

“Ummm…..Hirano-san, this way.”

Kagiura, who at some point had procured a sword fashioned from newspaper, is heading down the hallway while engaged in mock swordplay with a boy of around five.

Rather than going easy on him, he is fending off the attack strategically so as to avoid taking any hits; he seems to be taking the match seriously as he grins. He’s not even pausing for breath.

As he trails behind, a small girl follows close by Hirano’s side. As expected, she vaguely resembles Kagiura. Particularly, the part of their hair.

The girl’s eye level is only up to his legs, so he figured she must have mistaken him for a family member, but when he asks her “how old are you?” she cheerfully replies “four!”, so he probably doesn’t need to worry about it.

The fingers she has confidently thrust upward, presumably so Hirano can easily see them, are only three in number; he’s tickled by not knowing which was the correct number.

He probably did stuff like this, too, he thinks—he’s starting to get an image of how his kouhai was as a child, despite not having known him at that age.

Thanks to that, his nerves settled, and even giving his greetings to Kagiura’s grandfather, who was relaxing in a Japanese-style room listening to the radio, was enjoyable.

The hostess gift that he’d finally managed to hand over will, after being used as an offering at the household altar, be put out as today’s afternoon snack.

In the meantime, everyone is called to their seats for lunch, and proper introductions are made.

As far as Kagiura’s parents and siblings go, apparently they plan to arrive around the time of Obon.

When asked why he’d chosen to come at a separate time, Kagiura had replied, “I wanted to come before the jellyfish start coming out,” but this explanation comes under fire as a “weird reason”—the residents of this house don’t play in the nearby seaside much, since rip currents form easily there.

At that moment, Kagiura’s eyes had flitted to Hirano, meeting his gaze before darting away.

Well, it was probably just that if they came for Obon, it’d be uncomfortable to let friends tag along.

After lunch, their troupe, led by the kids, play in the river, and as soon as they return to the house to rehydrate start playing a game with a ball, so there’s no time to rest between the nonstop activities.

Hirano had intended to keep up with Kagiura, but the difference in their stamina had been made painfully clear, and before he knew it he’d found himself surrounded by a growing number of small children.

They kept on playing, but they told him, “we’ll save you!”, so they’re just putting up with the guest.

The sunlight was strong, so he had borrowed a straw hat, but having changed into a swimsuit and entered the river, his upper half had gotten quite sunburnt.

The prickling pain had been getting progressively worse, and if his skin wasn’t damaged before he got in the bath, it sure was after.

Hirano is suffering away in the second floor bedroom he’d been given when Kagiura, who’d taken a bath after him, returns holding a tube of cream in his hand.

“Hirano-san, I heard your back is bright red. Put this on. It’s for sunburns, so it’ll help a bit.”

“Oh, they told you?”

“Yeah. They said it looked super painful when you washed your back.”

Hirano, who’d ended up in charge of the kids and even been put on bath duty before he knew what was happening, had taken his bath with the three boys, aged lower grade to kindergarten.

Among them was the young boy who’d enthusiastically brandished the newspaper sword.

“Yeah, for sure. It wasn’t bothering me that much, but it hurts like a bitch when something rubs against my back.”

“Getting that lot to behave must’ve been rough.”

“They didn’t behave…they weren’t even still when I was drying them off.”

Luckily, they weren’t cowed by Hirano’s blond hair, but they kept jumping up to play with it, so they got wet again as soon as he dried them, and he’d had to put their pajamas on with their hair still soaking wet, which was a pain in the ass.

“Huh? At that age, they can dry themselves off, you know.”

“...Are you kidding me?”

Kagiura giggles.

“It’s because you’re so nice. You’ve been spoiling them rotten. …..Will you take off your top for me?”

“You gonna put the cream on for me?”

“Of course.”

He pulls his shirt off, flinching at the feeling of the fabric grazing his skin.

The sensation of the refreshingly cool fingers stroking his shoulder blades feels indescribably good.

With the hectic day finally over, he thinks he’ll go to sleep early, but strangely, drowsiness doesn’t come.

“There’s a ton of manga in this room.” At Kagiura’s prompting, he decides to begin reading a volume—it’s halfway through the series, but it’s just a gag manga.

He was under the impression that reading while lying down makes your eyes bad, but there are no chairs, so it’s the most comfortable position.

Have the younger kids fallen asleep already?

When it occurs to him to check the clock, it’s drawing near midnight.

When did that happen? Surprised, he looks over at Kagiura beside him.

Up until yesterday, he would always be asleep long before this time, but right now he’s wide awake.

“Kagi-kun, you’re not tired?”

“Nah. We had a slow morning, so I’m fine.”

Ah, that’s right. With the night bus arriving so late, he’d gotten to sleep in three hours longer than on days he has practice.

Hirano, who like Kagiura is not a morning person, had also slept in quite a long time today.

But if they don’t sleep soon, before they know it they’ll be ringing in a new day.

“We should go to bed soon, though.”

“Wait, just a little longer.”

“Hm? Didn’t you already get to a good stopping point in your book?”

The manga had already been put away, and Kagiura’s the one who finished getting ready for bed first, but for some reason he shakes his head.

No sooner has he pulled his sling bag towards him than he has withdrawn a small paper bag.

“Your birthday.”

Hirano’s eyes grow wide at Kagiura, who had passed him the bag as he spoke.

“.....Huh?”

At first, he’s surprised.

After a moment, he glances at the clock, and lets out a little huff of laughter.

It is August 1st, 12:00 a.m. on the dot.

He’d managed to get the time to the minute—and Hirano’s giving his abs quite the workout, suppressing his laughter out of respect for the fact that it’s the middle of the night.

Kagiura is stumped by Hirano’s laughter, which had continued for a while, but eventually he smiles, as Hirano certainly seems satisfied with the present, firmly clutching it in his hands.

Kagiura is stumped by Hirano’s silent laughter, which had continued for quite a while, but eventually he smiles, apparently satisfied by the fact that Hirano’s clutching the present tightly.

“Happy birthday, Hirano-san.”

“Dude, you’re such a try-hard! ….Thanks. Ah, sorry for laughing.”

He’s as overjoyed as he is shocked.

He hasn’t said as much, but with the way he can’t stop grinning, he probably doesn’t have to.

“I’m glad you’re happy about it!”

Hirano’s pretty sure his own expression now matches the soft smile on Kagiura’s face.

He checks the contents of the bag to find a small box. It’s clearly some kind of accessory.

“Now what do we have here?” With a feeling of trepidation, Hirano opens the box with a click. Inside is a set of earrings in an understated blue color lined up within the velvet fabric.

“These are…”

“I’ve been thinking it’d be a shame if your piercings closed up. Wear them every day, Hirano-san.”

“Yeah.” He nods, then goes to the mirrored dresser in the corner of the room to put them in.

The holes really have started to close, and rather than allowing the earrings through smoothly, they feel slightly obstructed.

After affixing them to each ear, he goes to stand in front of Kagiura, whose eyes are crinkled in apparent satisfaction. Like this, it is unclear which one of them had received a gift.

It’d be easy to lose them if he wore them to sleep, so Hirano takes them out soon afterward, but he’ll wake up before Kagiura tomorrow and put them in first thing.

Having made up his mind, Hirano went to sleep.

And how soft he felt.

*****

Long chapter, but we made it 😭🙏 I feel so bad it took me this long to get chapter 3 out to yall but the past 6 months have been nothing but suffering and I've basically been working on this in bits and pieces around all the other bs I've been juggling. Thanks for being patient with me!

T/N: (1) I don't know what this is called in English. I don't think it even has a name in English though I feel like I've seen it in some houses here. Basically, it's when you walk into a house and there's a step beyond the foyer leading to the rest of the house. Like this

(2) Obon is an annual event meant for honoring your ancestors. Families tend to get together and visit their family graves, and it's believed that the spirits of the deceased visit household alters. So Hirano thinks that the reason Kagi wanted to come at a different time from the rest of his family is because it might be weird to have a friend hanging around during Obon, but really it's just because Kagi wanted to be able to celebrate Hirano's birthday with him lol

(3) I don't think this is true I have no idea why he thinks this lmao (but then again, it'd be explain my terrible eyesight, so maybe he's onto something)

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A very big thank you to reading list members @jeizet, @jujupanic, @massyworld, @umbreonwolfy, and @acidsuzanne-blog (who tumblr won't let me tag for some reason?) You guys are the reason I'm still doing this and I'm very grateful for your support 🥹