#still not gonna scroll through tumblr for a while

[nanamineedstherapy]

Seven Minutes in Heaven (Chapter Two)

F!Reader x Gojo Satoru

Previous Chapter 1 (Tumblr/Ao3)

Summary: It was supposed to be a normal frat party. Just a stupid game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. Just him, king of never taking anything seriously, getting shoved into a closet for a dumb dare. And yet. Now, he can’t sleep. Can’t think. Can’t stop thinking about you. And one by one, his friends are starting to realize—Whatever happened in that closet? It never really ended.

Outside in the garden, Toji mocked. "Man got a straight-up haunted hard-on."

"Wait, wait, wait," Sukuna wheezed. "Tell me why bro just made out with a ghost so hard he got a fucking boner."

"Can we not call it that?" Satoru groaned.

"That’s exactly what it was," Hiromi confirmed, shaking his head. "You got seduced by a fucking spirit."

Shiu, lying on the grass scrolling through his phone, barely looked up as he added, "Even in the afterlife, women aren’t safe from your dick preceding your reputation."

"I'm gonna kill myself," Satoru muttered, running a hand down his face.

"Ghost girl might be into that," Choso said thoughtfully, sipping a beer.

"Yo, shut the fuck up," Satoru snapped.

"You were rock hard for a literal corpse." Shoko was almost rolling in the grass, clutching her bottle.

"FOR THE LAST TIME, I DIDN’T KNOW SHE WAS A GHOST!"

"And yet," Suguru drawled, gesturing vaguely at the still-very-visible problem in his jeans.

Satoru made a strangled noise, willing his soul to leave his body.

“If I see your haunted dick in my nightmares, I’m suing." Yuki yelled.

"I have hater friends. At least she thought I was beautiful." Satoru smirked.

A collective groan echoed through the garden.

Kento dragged a hand down his face. "I hate him. I hate him."

"Fucker just got ghosted in every sense of the word, and he still has the audacity to make it about his looks." Kashimo jeered, leaning on Haibara, who was barely holding himself up.

"Kill yourself," Sukuna muttered.

"Honestly, yeah," Hiromi agreed.

Satoru just grinned. "Jealous much?"

Suguru physically sighed. "Let's go, you delusional horny disaster."

---

Satoru couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Not the way your lips had felt against his, or how you made him laugh, or how you got flustered easily but still kissed him first like a paradox he couldn’t solve—though that haunted him, too.

No, it was the way you had looked at him.

Like you had been starving.

So, Satoru did what any rational person would do.

He spent an unhealthy amount of time at the library.

Gojo Satoru. At the library. Voluntarily. His friends thought he was having a crisis.

At first, there was nothing.

No students matching your description in the recent records.

No tragic accidents or ghost stories written in the university archives.

It was like you had never existed.

But then—

One night, while flipping through the school’s oldest records, something caught his eye.

An envelope stuffed with papers.

He pulled out a diary first.

Diary of Miss L/N

(Archivist - Leather-bound, gold-embossed. Found in the ruins of the university, its final pages splattered with what appears to be dried tears. Handwritten, ink fading in places. Some pages torn. Final entries nearly illegible—written in a shaking hand, desperate and uneven.)

January 3, 1914

There is a new litter of kittens in the old courtyard! I counted five, all squirming and mewling, their mother, a thin little thing who watches me with wary eyes. I left some bread soaked in milk, though I do not think she trusts me yet. Perhaps if I sit quietly tomorrow, she will let me closer.

(If I were a cat, would I be loved more easily?)

The groundskeeper scolded me, said I am too soft-hearted, that I let animals take advantage of me. As if a kitten could be cunning! I told him there is no harm in kindness. He only shook his head.

Satoru sat back, staring at the first entry, his thumb tracing your handwriting. He didn’t know much about you—hell, he didn’t even know you were alive a hundred years ago—but he could picture you, kneeling in the courtyard with kittens, trying to be kind. He imagined the faintest smile tugging at your lips when you saw them squirming in the dirt. The idea of you feeding a stray mother cat made his chest tighten in an odd, unfamiliar way. He ran his fingers along the edge of the paper, almost as if trying to feel your presence through it.

That groundskeeper? He was an idiot. He didn't get it. Satoru couldn't help but feel a spark of frustration. You didn’t need anyone’s permission to be kind. He almost laughed at the idea that someone might scold you for being soft-hearted. If anything, he wished he could go back and tell you not to worry about those around you. He would’ve probably looked at you the same way—the way he did when you kissed him, not knowing why or how, but unable to stop himself from caring just a little too much for someone so—soft.

January 10, 1914

I do not think they like me.

Not in the way they like each other.

They are polite, of course. They smile. They call me ‘Miss L/N’ with syrupy sweetness, but their eyes flicker. I see the way their lips press together when I speak. The way their laughter dies when I enter a room.

But it is alright. Not everyone has to like me.

I just wish they did not hate me, either.

Satoru skimmed the next entry, his eyes narrowing. You were already noticing the tension in the air, weren’t you? The polite smiles, the murmurs. The fake sweetness they showed you—he could practically hear the insincerity in their voices. He frowned, shaking his head. You didn’t deserve that. Nobody should ever make someone feel like they didn’t belong.

For some reason, even though you were long gone, he found himself angry on your behalf. He didn’t understand why they treated you that way. You were probably just too good for them, weren’t you? Too pure, too gentle. He shook the thought off, the sharpness of the moment still biting at him. It made him wonder if maybe he would’ve been one of the few who would’ve actually liked you.

January 25, 1913

Viscount Salvatore looked at me today. He did not merely glance—he looked. I was in the library, carrying too many books, and he leaned back in his chair, all effortless indifference, and drawled, "Planning to read all of those, Miss L/N? Or are you building a fort?"

(He thinks I am ridiculous.)

(He noticed me.)

I almost dropped Wuthering Heights on my foot.

A frown burrowed on Satoru’s face when he read about Viscount Salvatore. You noticed him. He noticed you.

He flipped your yearbook with his other hand to find any Salvtores; there had been two in your class who’d gone to become Army officials in the first World War and then died there. Your description fit the blue-eyed one with a cocky smirk. Like Satoru? Did you have a type?

He felt a slight sting in his chest at the thought of this Viscount—some guy who probably had no idea what to do with someone like you. Still, he couldn’t suppress the bitter taste in his mouth. Jealousy? Was that what this was?

A sigh slipped from his lips. It was stupid—he was more than a hundred years too late. He didn’t even know if you’d ever seen him the way he now imagined you looking at the Viscount. The thought of another guy noticing you—really noticing you—made him want to jump from a boat. But instead, he read on.

February 2, 1914

It was a joke. Just a prank.

"She'll cry and beg to be let out," one of them whispered, giggling behind her lace glove. "Let's see if Miss Perfect is still so polite in the dark."

The door slammed. The lock clicked.

The dark swallowed me whole.

I did not beg.

I bit my tongue until I tasted iron and waited. And when they let me out—smirking, triumphant—I smoothed my skirts, fixed my hair, and walked past them as if I had not spent the last hour choking on the thick, dusty air.

They did not like that.

"A little too perfect, isn’t she?"

(They will do it again.)

Satoru’s eyebrows furrowed as his gaze lingered on the next entry. You were trapped. Locked in a closet by the very people you probably thought were your friends. It was sickening. He almost couldn't finish reading—his stomach lurched with disgust. The way you didn't beg... it said so much about you. You must’ve been used to pain by then, used to being pushed aside and ignored. But still—you walked out of there like nothing had happened, like you didn’t carry the weight of what they had just done to you.

Satoru shook his head, muttering to himself, “Cowards. All of them.” He clenched the paper tighter in his hand. He hated the idea of you facing that kind of cruelty alone, without anyone there to stop it. He could feel it—your loneliness, your frustration, your unwillingness to break. And somehow, it only made him want to be there for you more. He'd never admit it, but there was a strange urge within him to make it right—even if it was a century too late.

February 10, 1914

Today, I found a sparrow with a broken wing. I named him Edgar (after Poe, of course).

I should have left him alone. Mother says I should not dirty my hands with such things. But he was shivering—how could I leave him?

Viscount Salvatore saw me, kneeling in the grass, my gloves stained with dirt. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Then, just as he passed, he murmured, "Don’t name it. You’ll only make it harder."

He has such an awful way of speaking. Always so practical. So cold.

(He was right. Edgar did not make it through the night.)

Satoru didn’t expect to feel as deeply affected by this entry. You found a broken bird and tried to help it. Just like the kittens. Just like everything else. He read about the sparrow, Edgar, and that bitter, practical remark from Viscount Salvatore.

He rolled his eyes. That guy was cold, wasn’t he? It was almost like he couldn't even understand that you just wanted to do something kind. His jaw clenched slightly at the thought of this Viscount, cold and indifferent. Did he not understand the pain of losing something you tried so desperately to save?

“You deserved better than that.” Satoru muttered quietly to himself. He could barely comprehend it, but it stung to think of you, caring for something so fragile, and yet not having anyone there to help you when you needed it most. He could almost hear the sadness in your voice, like you were speaking not just about the bird, but about yourself.

February 13, 1914

Razor blades in my book bag today.

I did not see them in time.

A sharp sting—red seeping into my gloves, blooming against the pale silk like a dying rose.

A girl gasped.

One of them. The one who used to call me her friend.

She reached for me, hesitated. Opened her mouth—closed it.

Did nothing.

(They are all cowards.)

I smiled at her anyway.

(It is getting harder to smile.)

The entry made Satoru stop in his tracks. Razor blades? What the hell...? He had to reread the paragraph twice, the sharpness of the words sinking into him with every line. It was hard to stomach—knowing that someone, one of the people who had once called you their friend, did this to you. Left you bleeding and didn’t even care.

He felt a fire burning in his chest now, a rage that was foreign to him. A strange protectiveness, something darker, almost suffocating. He didn't know how you had kept going through all this. And yet, you had. You smiled through it all, even when everything in the world was trying to break you.

Satoru stood up suddenly, pacing around the room. He was aware of how ridiculous this was—he didn’t even know you. But damn it, you deserved someone who would’ve fought for you. Someone who would’ve taken those blades from your hands and never let you feel alone.

February 14, 1914

Viscount Salvatore pulled out a chair for me today.

The smallest thing. A flick of his wrist. A glance in my direction. A murmured, "Miss L/N."

But I have not been spoken to kindly in so long.

For a moment, my eyes burned. My throat ached.

But I said nothing. I only sat.

And when I looked up—just for a second—he was already watching me.

(What a strange, strange man.)

Satoru’s fingers lightly brushed over the paper. He didn’t know what it was, but something about that entry—Viscount Salvatore pulling out a chair for you—made him pause. He didn't react outwardly, keeping his face carefully blank, but internally? There was a slight stir of discomfort. It was such a small, insignificant thing, yet it meant so much to you. A simple gesture, something that should’ve been normal.

He imagined the quiet moment, your surprise. The thought that such a little thing could make you feel seen, even for a second, gnawed at him. A frustrated sigh left his lips. Why did it have to be like that? If he were there—if only he were there, he would’ve shown you kindness, not just with gestures, but with actions. But that was a thought he quickly pushed aside, frustrated by how much time had slipped through his fingers. He kept reading, though.

February 20, 1914

I have decided. I loathe Viscount Salvatore.

He is insufferable. He speaks in riddles and always looks as if he is laughing at me. I do not know why I bother thinking of him.

(He held the door open for me today. Said nothing. Just waited.)

(I hate him.)

A faint chuckle escaped his lips as he read the next entry. You’d decided to loathe Viscount Salvatore now. "Insufferable," you called him. Satoru almost wanted to agree, though he couldn't completely share your sentiment. He had a feeling there was more to him—more that was left unsaid. Still, it was a funny thought. Viscount Salvatore being that frustrating, mysterious figure. Satoru was intrigued by how you wrote about him with such sharpness, but the words seemed like a cover for something deeper. He wasn’t sure what, but the tension between you two was palpable.

“Is it really that bad?” he muttered, flipping the page, knowing he wasn’t going to get an answer. He felt a flicker of something, but the rest of the entry, especially with the way he “held the door open,” left him feeling... unsure. He wasn't exactly proud of it, but maybe there was some part of him that didn't want you to find comfort in anyone else.

March 2, 1914

I found a dead rat in my desk.

Its body bloated, eyes staring.

Its tiny mouth open, frozen in a silent scream.

There was a note pinned to its belly. Still feeling generous?

I swallowed back the nausea and took it outside myself.

(It is getting harder to breathe here.)

Satoru’s expression hardened as he read about the dead rat in your desk. He closed his eyes briefly, forcing himself to focus. The cruel games they played—it disgusted him. He could almost feel the sickening weight of it, as if it were happening right there, in front of him. Who does that? He set the paper down and ran his hand through his hair, trying to keep his composure, though his jaw was tight.

You didn’t even flinch. You simply took it outside. There was an odd kind of resolve in the way you wrote that. No begging. No breaking down. Just... handling it yourself. It made him uneasy—how much you had to endure, and how little anyone had cared. He couldn’t imagine what you went through, not yet, but the pieces were starting to come together. The cruelty. The silence. The isolation.

June 20, 1914

I am tired.

No, not tired. Weary.

I wake up with my body braced, waiting for something—waiting for the next whisper, the next cruel trick, the next unseen hand that will shove me down the stairs when no one is looking.

I have not eaten all day.

(They will not break me.)

The word “weary” hit Satoru like a punch to the gut. He could picture you, slumped in exhaustion, never having the chance to recover. He could almost hear the quiet panic that sat beneath those words. The next cruel trick, the next shove—it was too much. His hand tightened around the paper as he read on.

He didn’t need to know everything to understand that what you were going through wasn’t just physical. It was something deeper. Something that made your bones ache and your heart heavy. And yet, here you were, still breathing, still defiant. He let out a breath, annoyed at the powerlessness he felt just from reading your words.

July 24, 1914

I am going to the party.

They said they want to start over. That it was all just foolish jealousy. That they want to be friends.

I should not believe them.

I know I should not believe them.

But I am so, so tired of being alone.

Just for one night, I want to pretend I belong.

Satoru frowned, eyes narrowing. The truth was already in your words before you even said it. He felt an odd mix of sympathy and frustration as you told yourself you were going to the party—hoping, wishing to belong, even for just one night. He had to read that part again, swallowing a lump in his throat.

He flipped the page; the diary ended. Satoru immediately scrambled to pull out another stack of papers from the binder.

Final Entries – Found Scribbled in the Dark on Stationary available inside the closet

(Archivist - Stray pages, ink smudged. Words scratched over and rewritten as if she could not make her fingers hold steady.)

July 25, 1914

They lied.

Of course they lied.

The music was loud. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and laughter. For the first time in years, I thought—maybe.

Then hands.

Grabbing. Dragging.

"Let’s see how perfect you are now."

They locked me inside.

A closet. Small. Cramped.

The door will not open.

It has been hours.

(Or has it? I can’t tell.)

No one is coming.

The change in tone was abrupt, and Satoru’s pulse quickened as he read about the party. He could feel the shift, the claustrophobia, the betrayal seeping through the paper. The scribbled words—he could almost hear you gasping for air, trapped in that small closet.

“They lied.” That one line stung. It was so raw. He couldn’t make sense of it. He couldn’t make it right. But he had to know—he had to understand why you were forgotten. He had to keep reading, even if it made his heart feel like it was crumbling under the weight.

???, 1914

How many hours has it been?

They will come back.

They must come back.

Please, please, please—

My throat aches.

I screamed until my throat bled.

No one heard.

No one wants to hear.

(They have forgotten me.)

Satoru’s hands clenched around the papers. They had broken you in ways that even time couldn’t erase. And he could do nothing. He gritted his teeth, struggling to stay composed, but it was impossible to ignore the ache that had settled in his chest. You’d screamed until your throat bled, and they had... forgotten you.

Satoru sat with his elbows on the desk, his fingers steepled against his lips as he read the next entries. He was quiet now, the usual restless energy in his body drained away, leaving only a tense stillness. The words on the page felt heavier with each line.

???, 1914

I am thirsty.

I am so thirsty.

If I press my ear against the door, I can hear the music.

(Another party?)

They are still dancing.

They are still laughing.

They are still living.

And I am here.

Satoru’s throat felt tight. He swallowed against it, as if somehow that would make up for the dryness that must have burned through yours. He could picture it too clearly—the way your lips must have cracked, your voice reduced to a rasp.

And yet, they were still dancing.

Satoru exhaled sharply. You were still there, forgotten, while life carried on just outside the door. The thought made him nauseous.

His fingers flexed against the paper. If I had been there... But he hadn’t been. No one had. That was the entire tragedy of it.

???, 1914

It is quiet.

No music. No voices.

Something has happened.

Why won’t anyone come?

Satoru’s breath slowed. You didn’t know. You had no idea that while you were trapped in that suffocating darkness, the world outside had shifted.

They left.

No one had opened the door. No one had checked. It wasn’t even malice at this point—it was worse. It was indifference.

His jaw clenched. You weren’t even aware that the world had moved on without you. You were just waiting. Waiting for a help that would never come.

July 28, 1914

Sirens.

War.

The halls are empty.

They have all gone home.

No one remembers I am here.

No one remembers at all.

Sirens. The first world war. The absence. His hand trembled. The emptiness of the halls. You had been forgotten amidst the chaos, the madness of the world falling apart. He hated the feeling of it. The helplessness. The way everything—everything—slipped away, leaving only that quiet, sickening silence. He muttered a curse under his breath, feeling a heavy weight in his stomach.

You had been alone. And it wasn’t just the physical isolation. It was the fact that no one even cared enough to remember you.

???, 1914

(Archivist - The ink is uneven, pressed too hard into the paper—her hand must have been shaking.)

I dreamed of Viscount Salvatore.

He pulled out a chair for me again.

Only this time, when I sat, he turned to me and said, "I see you."

I woke up crying.

(He will not remember me either.)

Viscount Salvatore was back in your dreams. And now, Satoru was reading about how you woke up crying. He shook his head slowly, his eyes closing briefly. Even in your lonely moments, he was there, haunting you—both a comfort and a torment. He could almost see it in his mind, the way Viscount Salvatore's distant gaze would have held some measure of regret, maybe even longing. But none of that would ever matter now.

“Damn it,” Satoru cursed under his breath. He didn't even know what he was mad at—himself, the Viscount, or fate. The whole damn situation. You didn’t deserve any of it.

???, 1914

There is no light.

I am afraid to sleep. Afraid I will wake up and it will still be dark. Afraid I won’t wake up at all.

I think I can hear something scratching. Or maybe it is just my own heartbeat.

Satoru shut his eyes for a brief second. That sentence—it was worse than the others. It wasn't just physical anymore. It wasn’t just being locked inside. It was the fear creeping in.

Afraid to sleep. Afraid to wake up and still be in the dark. Afraid to never wake up at all.

He felt sick. You weren’t even sure if you existed anymore. If you were real.

He let his head drop forward slightly, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. It was just a diary. Just words. So why did it feel like they were clawing at something inside of him?

???, 1914

I had a Mother?

Satoru’s eyes flicked back to the page, scanning the sentence again.

His stomach twisted.

You were unraveling.

That was what this was. Not just hunger. Not just thirst. Your mind was fraying at the edges, breaking apart piece by piece.

He shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable, a strange, suffocating weight settling in his chest. You had been alone for so long that even memories were slipping away.

You were forgetting yourself.

???, 1914

I dreamed of the kittens.

They were hungry. So was I.

I woke up biting my sleeve.

Satoru closed his eyes again. That dream—it wasn’t just a memory. It was your body crying out, pulling at whatever fragments of warmth it could find.

And when you woke up, you were biting your sleeve.

His lips pressed into a tight line. He didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to picture you curled up in the dark, trying to trick yourself into feeling full.

He ran a hand through his hair, swallowing hard.

???, 1914

I have started whispering my own name.

I am afraid I will forget it.

Satoru blinked. The words blurred for a second before coming back into focus.

You were losing yourself. The last thing you had—the only thing left. Your own name. And even that was slipping.

His grip on the paper was too tight now. He forced himself to relax his fingers before he crumpled it.

You had been so, so alone.

???, 1914

I do not want to die like this.

I do not want to die in the dark.

Satoru’s shoulders tensed, but he forced himself to read it again.

You knew. By then, you knew.

It was no longer just fear. It was a final, quiet understanding.

Satoru’s hand came up, fingers pressing lightly against his temple. He had read countless things in his life—reports, records, confessions. But this?

This was someone—you—begging the universe for something it had already denied you.

???, 1914

Did he ever think of me?

Did Viscount Salvatore ever notice that I was gone?

(I am so, so cold.)

???, 1914

I can hear it raining.

There is no hunger anymore.

No thirst.

Just cold.

So, so cold.

???, ????

(Archivist - Final entry. Ink smeared, nearly unreadable.)

If someone finds this—Please—Please remember me.

Satoru didn’t move.

He stared at the words, his vision blurring for a moment before sharpening again.

His throat felt tight.

His grip on the page softened, and he slowly, carefully, set it down.

Satoru wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with this—this aching, gnawing thing in his chest. He didn’t have the words for it. But as he reached for the next stack of papers.

Newspaper Articles

(Archivist - Yellowed clippings, brittle at the edges. No one speaks of her anymore.)

DAUGHTER OF L/N FAMILY MISSING – UNIVERSITY REFUSES COMMENT (July 27, 1914)

Miss L/N, the only daughter of the esteemed L/N family, has been reported missing for over a week. The university has declined to comment, insisting that Miss L/N likely departed of her own volition.

Her parents, Mr. and Mrs. L/N, have offered a sizable reward for any information regarding her whereabouts.

SEARCH FOR MISSING HEIRESS ENDS IN TRAGEDY – PARENTS DECLARED DEAD (December 3, 1916)

After two years of relentless searching, Mr. and Mrs. L/N have perished under tragic circumstances. Their estate, heavily in debt from the investigation, is to be auctioned off.

Miss L/N’s disappearance remains unsolved.

RENOVATIONS UNCOVER HIDDEN CLOSET – HUMAN REMAINS FOUND (March 5, 1957)

Construction teams working on university renovations discovered a sealed-off closet in the west wing. Inside, they found skeletal remains, still clad in a deteriorated silk gown. A diary was found nearby, though much of its ink had faded with time. Officials report that the identity of the remains is unknown, as no records exist of any missing student matching the description.

No further investigation is planned.

THE DAILY GAZETTE

Est. 1896

Thursday, March 7, 1957

PRICE: 10 CENTS

MYSTERY OF THE FORGOTTEN GIRL: REMAINS DISCOVERED IN UNIVERSITY WALLS

Renovation Workers Uncover Skeleton, Raising Chilling Questions About the Past

By George L. Whitmore

SHIZUKA CITY—A routine renovation at one of the country’s most prestigious universities took a macabre turn last week when construction workers stumbled upon a hidden closet sealed within the walls of the East Wing. Inside, they found the skeletal remains of a young woman, her body curled as if she had simply lain down and never risen again. The discovery has sent shockwaves through the academic community, raising unsettling questions about how she came to be there—and why no one ever looked for her.

The identity of the deceased remains unknown. No records exist of a missing student from the time period estimated by forensic specialists—likely the early 20th century. But one thing is certain: she was left there. Forgotten.

A Name Erased

The East Wing, once a grand structure funded by old money and aristocratic influence, had been largely abandoned for decades before renovations began last fall. The university, now bearing the Gojo family name, was once under the patronage of another dynasty—one that, curiously, has all but vanished from historical record.

Researchers digging into archived documents found faint traces of a once-powerful benefactor: the L/N family. According to a 1907 university registry, the L/Ns were among the wealthiest patrons of the institution. From Arms dealings, their contributions were responsible for much of its early expansion. And yet, no descendants remain. No estate. No legacy.

A mere decade after their peak, the family seems to have disappeared altogether. Their name erased. Their wealth scattered.

And now, this girl—the girl in the closet.

A Harmless Prank Gone Horribly Wrong?

The discovery has sparked whispered theories among university staff and alumni. Some recall long-forgotten stories, rumors passed down like ghost stories in dormitory halls. Stories of a girl. Beautiful. Intelligent. Kind. Too kind.

“She was perfect, too perfect,” said one retired professor, who wished to remain anonymous. “People resented her for it. The way the faculty admired her. The way she carried herself. There were whispers, of course—ugly, jealous things. But back then, the school was different. There were rules about what could and could not be spoken aloud.”

While no official reports exist of bullying, former students who attended in the early 1900s recall the cruel pranks that were common among the elite circles of the time. Stolen books. Torn dresses. Whispered mockeries disguised as etiquette lessons.

Then there was the incident at a party—a party that took place just before the world changed forever.

“She went missing that night,” said another source, a woman in her seventies who had attended the university in the years following the First World War. “There were rumors, of course. But no one ever spoke of it directly. And then the war came, and everything was forgotten. Just like that.”

What started as a childish prank—locking a girl in a storage closet—became something else entirely when the world was plunged into chaos. Sirens screamed. Students fled. The university shut its doors. And no one, not a single soul, remembered to let her out.

A Legacy Stolen by Time

The timing is chilling. The L/N family vanished not long after. Their once-glorious estate burned to the ground under mysterious circumstances. With their wealth depleted in a desperate search for their missing daughter, they faded into obscurity, lost to history. Meanwhile, the university found a new patron—one with deeper pockets, stronger influence. The Gojo family.

“Nothing stays empty for long,” remarked historian Dr. Henry Carrington. “Power abhors a vacuum. One name disappears; another takes its place. That’s how history works. The question is whether it was simply fate... or something more deliberate.”

What Comes Next?

For now, the remains of the forgotten girl lie in the care of forensic specialists, who will attempt to identify her and, perhaps, grant her the dignity she was denied in life. The university has yet to release an official statement, though sources indicate there are plans to memorialize the discovery.

Still, the air remains heavy with unspoken truths. A legacy buried beneath floorboards. A name erased. A girl left to die in the dark, her existence fading from memory even as the institution she was meant to inherit flourished without her.

And now, decades later, she has returned. Not as a scholar. Not as an heir.

But as a skeleton in the walls of a university that no longer remembers her name.

Satoru understood what had happened.

---

1914

The first time they locked you inside, it was supposed to be a joke. A harmless prank.

“You’ll cry and beg to be let out,” one of them whispered, a cruel giggle curling around her words as she hid her smirk behind a lace-gloved hand. “Let’s see if Miss Perfect is still so polite in the dark.”

You cried.

But you didn’t beg.

Not that night.

Not yet.

It didn’t surprise you. You’d always known people resented you. You were the only child of the L/N family—their legacy was carved in the very stone of the university. Wealth, power, influence, all wrapped in a name that commanded respect. Your family had funded these halls, shaped them. Built them.

And you were meant to carry that weight forward, to live up to expectations that came with being the heir of such a name. You studied hard, spoke softly, helped others without a second thought. You tried to meet the world with grace.

But you had made one mistake.

You were kind. Too kind.

You didn’t wear your last name like armor. You didn’t command respect with a gaze sharp enough to cut or a voice cold enough to freeze. You didn’t move like royalty among commoners. You spoke gently, smiled too much, helped without expecting anything in return.

And that, apparently, was enough to make them hate you.

They called you perfect. A fraud wrapped in silk and sweetness. A girl born to wealth, yet untouched by cruelty. It made them sick to their stomachs. They told themselves your kindness was a mask. That you were pretending. That behind your soft smile, you looked down on them.

The whispers slithered through the hallways, filled every corner of every dormitory, echoed between the benches in lecture halls. “She must think she’s better than us.” The rumors crept, fed by jealousy and disdain, each one sinking deeper, until they made it their mission to tear you down.

It started small. Stolen assignments. Ink spilled all over your uniform. Books knocked from your arms as you passed, their laughter trailing behind you like a shadow.

But then the pranks grew worse. Razor blades slipped into the lining of your bag, waiting to slice your fingers. Your tea, laced with ink, stained your lips and tongue black for hours. Dead rats left in your desk drawers, bloated and stinking, their decaying bodies a cruel reminder of their hatred.

You had friends—or you thought you did. But when you looked to them, their smiles faltered. They said nothing. Did nothing. They looked away.

So, you endured it all alone.

Then came the night of the party.

You hadn’t wanted to go. But one of the girls, the one you still foolishly believed to be a friend, begged you. She said everyone wanted to start over, that they regretted their childish jealousy and were ready to put it behind them.

You wanted to believe it. You wanted so badly to believe that people could change, that cruelty wasn’t the default. You wanted to believe that if you just endured long enough, they would see you for who you really were.

So, you went.

The music was loud, thick with the beat of drums and the pulse of electric guitars. The air was heavy with smoke, alcohol, and the scent of youth gone wild. Laughter rang out, spinning around you as people twirled under lantern light. For the first time in years, you thought maybe—just maybe—you weren’t so alone after all.

But then, hands grabbed you.

They pulled you, dragged you away from the laughter, from the light, down the dim hallway that felt colder with every step. You struggled, but there were too many of them. Nails dug into your skin, and their breath reeked of whiskey and sweat.

They laughed. “Let’s see how perfect you are now.”

The closet was small. Cramped. A tiny, forgotten storage room in the corner of the building, filled with old books and dusty supplies. They shoved you inside.

You stumbled, tripping over the rough wooden floor, your hands scraping against the splintered walls. The door slammed behind you, the sound of the lock clicking echoing in your chest. You barely had time to press yourself against the door before it shut you in complete darkness.

“Let’s see how sweet you are after this,” they jeered, and then they were gone.

At first, you thought it was a joke. Any second now, they would open the door, laughing, saying it was just a prank. The music outside was still loud. The sounds of celebration filled your ears, muffling your screams and your frantic banging against the door.

They would let you out.

Of course, they would.

Wouldn’t they?

You banged harder. Screamed louder.

But no one came.

Minutes passed. Then an hour. Two.

Your fists were raw, your throat burned from the screams, but still, nothing.

At some point, you must have fallen asleep. When you woke up, your mouth was dry, your body stiff and cold. You were still in your party dress, but your shoes were gone. You had lost them somewhere, in the chaos of being dragged.

You banged again. Screamed louder.

Nothing.

More hours passed. Maybe a day. You tried to count the time, but it blurred. The darkness stole all sense of it.

Then, one night—though you couldn’t tell if it was day or night anymore—something changed.

The university went silent.

The once-bustling halls were empty. The voices, the laughter, the music—gone.

In the distance, you heard sirens. A sound that felt like the last thread of the world unraveling.

The world was at war.

Overnight, everything collapsed. Students fled. Professors disappeared. The university shut down.

And no one, not a single soul, remembered that you were still locked in that closet.

The hunger was unbearable at first. You pressed your hands against your stomach as it twisted in agony, but after a while, even hunger faded into the background. The thirst, however, never left. Your lips cracked, your throat burned, your vision swam.

But you were too weak to scream now.

At some point, you stopped feeling anything at all.

No one remembered the girl in the closet.

Days passed. Maybe weeks. Maybe months.

But in the end, it didn’t matter.

There was only silence.

When they finally reopened that part of the university—years, maybe decades later, during renovations—the workers found a hidden closet behind the walls. They found a skeleton, still curled on the floor, clutching the remains of a tattered dress.

No one knew who you were. Your records were gone.

The L/N family was erased from history.

Your parents had searched for you. Desperately. They spent every penny, called in every favor, tore the world apart looking for their only child.

But war doesn’t care for grieving parents.

They died before they could uncover the truth. Your home burned. And with them, the name that had once shaped this university disappeared from the records.

The buildings once funded by your family were renamed. The university you were supposed to inherit now bore another family’s name.

The Gojo family.

And you?

You had simply ceased to exist.

---

Present Day

Satoru stared at the newspaper article in his hands, the words blurring as his chest tightened. It felt like someone had reached into him, squeezing the air from his lungs until he couldn’t breathe. His vision wavered, the paper in his hands turning into nothing more than a smear of ink and empty noise.

He had spent the entire night digging. Searching. Prying through the layers of forgotten history no one had cared to remember. And now—

Now, he wished he hadn’t.

His chest ached. His stomach churned with the weight of it. He hadn’t expected to find this. He hadn’t expected to feel the crushing blow of reality, the terrible, suffocating guilt that twisted through him like a knife.

You had smiled at him.

how your fingers had trembled in his hands, how your wide, nervous eyes had held so much uncertainty, yet a quiet hope. And when you kissed him, your lips soft and warm against his, it had been the kind of kiss that felt like it was long overdue—like you’d been waiting a lifetime for someone to touch you.

And now he knew why.

You had been waiting for a hundred years.

A hundred years of silence. A hundred years of darkness. A hundred years of loneliness so deep it suffocated you, a cruel weight on your chest that no one had ever bothered to lift.

He thought about the closet. The cramped, suffocating space. The darkness. The silence that stretched on for years, unbroken. The pain of realizing no one was coming, no one cared.

The students who had shoved you inside. The laughter as they walked away, their voices fading into the distance while you were left to rot alone in a forgotten corner of the university. The friends who had seen it happen and did nothing. The ones who had turned their backs when you needed them most.

Satoru’s chest tightened further, a sharp pain stabbing through him. His teeth ground together, his jaw clenched so tight it felt like it might crack. His hands shook, trembled violently, as if they could somehow undo what had been done, erase the horror of it all.

He wanted to break something. Throw something. Tear through this cursed world and go back, back to that night, back to when he could’ve stopped it. To rip open that damn door and pull you into his arms, to tell you that you were never alone. That he would have fought for you. That someone—anyone—should have fought for you.

But it was too late.

One hundred years too late.

He sucked in a shaky breath, but it didn’t help. His lungs felt tight, and his throat closed up, like something was blocking the air. His hands shook as he traced the edges of the photograph in front of him. A group of students stood there, stiff and formal, their faces solemn in that black-and-white world of the early 1900s. They were so... distant. Detached. Like they were living in a world completely untouched by joy, by life.

And then there was you.

At the edge of the group, standing out like a ghost, yet so very present. Your soft features. Your gentle eyes. Your delicate, hopeful expression that somehow still managed to look so... lonely.

Beneath the photo, in delicate cursive handwriting, the caption read: "Class of 1914. Including Miss Y/N, the only child  of  the  L/N  family—our university’s first founding patrons."

Satoru’s breath caught in his throat.

Your name should have been everywhere. It should have been on every plaque, in every building, carved into the very bones of this place. Your family had built this school, laid its foundations with their blood and wealth. You had been the heir, the future.

And yet—

No one remembered your name.

Satoru’s pulse pounded in his ears, a frantic rhythm that seemed to echo in his chest. His fingers curled into the paper, the fragile edges crinkling beneath his grip. His heart hammered in his chest as he clenched his jaw, fighting back the urge to scream.

This school, his school, had been built on the L/N family name. Your family’s legacy was supposed to be immortal, etched into the very structure of the place. And yet, all he saw now were the names of the Gojo family—his family—everywhere. The library. The dormitories. The lecture halls.

Your family had been erased.

A sickening wave of anger washed over him. He wanted to scream, to tear the world apart. He wanted to shove the truth in their faces, shove it into the faces of everyone who’d forgotten you. Everyone who had abandoned you. But more than anything—he wanted to go back.

He wanted to go back to that night.

He wanted to break down that fucking door, drag you into the light, and tell you, "You weren’t alone. You’ll never be alone again."

But he couldn’t.

It was too late.

One hundred years too late.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but the image of your face lingered. You, the girl who had been forgotten. The girl whose name had been erased from history. The girl who had waited for someone to remember, to fight for her. The girl who had suffered alone.

No one remembered you now.

But Satoru did.

A/N: Did you get who Viscount Salvatore was?

Next Chapter 3 - (Tumblr/Ao3)

All Works Masterlist

[moonstandardtime]

iiiii kind of hate that joke. the "aging userbase" thing. did you not have to do chores as a kid. did you not exist before you turned 20?

[ronanlynchbf]

saying "this is unbearable" abt things yet still continuing to bear them. give it up for the human spirit everyone 🙏👆👍💪💪💪❗❗❗

[daddysropepuppy]

wanna play w my new vibe but both of my roommates r in the shared space n im scared they'll hear it

[likedbyuarmyhope]

rn my queue is full of all the posts that were left in my likes and drafts but as soon as that runs out i’m gonna start being normal and just reblog stuff as i see it. you know. like a normal person

[scoutofmymind]

Reader and Luigi basically being the old married couple of the group. A newcomer finds out that they aren’t actually together and it feels like breaking news because it’s basically assumed by most that they’re together. Maybe it isn’t until one of them starts getting actively pursued by someone else when it starts clicking why it makes them uncomfortable at the idea. Trying to leave this open ended for you.

The Jester’s Fucking the King — {Luigi x Reader }

Content: I’m gonna call this one NSFW— MDNI, friends to lovers, confusing feelings, Luigi has a physical touch fixation, you’re his fidget toy, fr tho, emotional manipulation lowkey, just a pinch (if you squint) of dirty talk, kinda love triangle

Wc: 3,458

Notes: yourself and Luigi have been Inseparable for six years, and the introduction of a new friend into the group throws a wrench into everything.

Before we start, I wanna make a quick note about the title, and where the hell it came from (lol). I was inspired by a tumblr post I came across awhile ago, and it stuck with me, I guess, because I randomly thought of it while I was writing this. That’s all. Enjoy xo

I took this and ran with it.

As usual.

"Who's this guy that she's bringing again?" you ask to the car at large, slumped in the backseat between your roommate Scarlett and the window. Your thumb swipes across your phone screen, watching Chloe’s location dot inch its way across the map while Luigi maneuvers through traffic and Ben fidgets with the radio from the passenger seat.

"I dunno, some guy she met in her new sculpture class this semester," Luigi mumbles through a barely-concealed grimace. The thought of adding another person to their carefully balanced social ecosystem clearly weighs on him. You know he's already mentally rehearsing his nice to meet you smile, the kind that takes more energy than he's willing to spend on a random Tuesday night.

"It'd better not be that kid Cole," you mutter, already dreading the possibility.

And because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, it was absolutely, undeniably, that kid Cole.

It hardly mattered what preconceived notions you’d had about him; they dissolved over time as Chloe started bringing him around more often.

The traits you once found annoying gradually morphed into something oddly endearing.

Still, he never quite seemed to understand the dynamic between you and Luigi.

On movie nights, when the six of you crammed into the living room, a messy sprawl of friends and blankets overtaking the couch and floor, you naturally claimed your usual spot; sprawled out across Luigi’s lap. Tonight was no different. You laid there with your back propped against the arm of the couch, scrolling through Instagram while your bottom half stretched longways over him, as if his lap had always been yours to occupy.

Every so often, you’d interrupt the movie to show him a meme or a video a mutual friend had sent. You’d lean in close, shoulders brushing, stifling your laughter together so as not to disturb the others watching John Wick. “That’s fucked up,” he muttered through a barely-contained chuckle, his eyes still on your phone screen.

Madison lives at home, her daily subway commute to campus a small price to pay for access to her parents' sprawling estate. Their backyard is a mediterranean dream, with a pool large enough to host the entire group of misfits, with room to spare.

You're draped over Luigi as he meanders around the pool's edge, both arms curved naturally around your waist beneath the waster. It's the kind of casual intimacy that comes from years of friendship, comfortable and worn-in. "Cole's actually pretty cool," he muses, tilting his head back expectantly.

You comply with the wordless request, holding the La Croix to his lips so he doesn't have to lift his hands from the water.

"Yeah," you agree, your eyes drifting across the pool to where Cole is pretending not to watch this whole exchange. His gaze darts away the moment yours meets his, like a kid caught stealing. "I really did think he was annoying at first, though."

Scarlett’s birthday party, your arms wrapped around Luigi’s waist, your head tucked beneath his arm as you swayed together and sang happy birthday. The whine as you shared a piece of cake, something about how “Luigi won’t even kiss me in public.” When someone said the two of you would have won prom king and queen if you went to the same high school.

Ben’s party followed just weeks later, the night still young and champagne bubbling through your veins. Luigi's hand clamped desperately over your mouth, but your eyes danced with mischief as you nodded enthusiastically at the circle gathered around you. "Yeah, Lu's got a PhD," you managed to say, and before he could stop you, the words tumbled out against his palm: "A pretty huge dick."

Cole watched.

"Did you know Cassie is seeing Dylan?" Cole asked, matching your frantic pace across campus. The morning fog swallowed your mumbled recitations as you mentally rehearsed your presentation for the hundredth time.

"Yeah, Cole, and I'm fucking Luigi.” you scoffed, the sarcasm dripping over every word like sticky molasses as you rolled your eyes. You yanked open the auditorium doors, disappearing behind them without a backward glance, mind already racing ahead to bullet points and transitions.

The very idea that Cole would believe such obvious campus gossip had you shaking your head as you slid into your seat.

But he did believe it.

He stood frozen in the hallway you'd left him in, staring at the closed doors like they might offer some explanation. "Yeah? I know.” he mumbled to your ghost, the words settling confused and heavy in the empty corridor.

The absolute certainty in his voice would have made you laugh, if you'd been there to hear it.

The seasons had shifted, and with them, Cole's hope had quietly ebbed away. After months of watching you, he'd finally accepted what everyone else seemed to know instinctively — even if Luigi wasn't in the picture, you were simply out of reach.

Saturday night found your usual crew at your claimed table in Madison’s backyard, the surface cluttered with emptied drinks and scattered Uno cards. Luigi absently twisted the rings on your fingers — a mindless habit he'd developed somewhere between freshman year and now — while chaos erupted around you.

The familiar symphony of shouted accusations about who was hiding the Draw Four cards mixed with the glow of phones being passed around, TikToks and screenshots sparking new waves of laughter.

Cole watched the way Luigi's fingers danced over yours, and for the first time, the sight didn't sting quite so much.

“I still can't believe Dylan and Cassie are dating," Cole mused through a cloud of smoke, beer bottle dangling precariously from his left hand while a joint was stuffed between the fingers on his right.

The table fell silent, five pairs of eyes fixing on him with varying degrees of confusion and amusement.

"Who told you that?" Scarlett's voice cut through the stunned silence and the resurrection of a dead and gone campus rumor, her phone screen illuminating her face as Dylan's name flashed across it. "Where did you even hear that?"

Cole's eyes pinballed around the table, finally landing on you and Luigi.

Your hand was caught in one of Luigi's absent-minded gestures, knuckles pressed against his lips while he listened — a habit so commonplace to everyone else that they'd stopped noticing years ago. "Uh— wait—" Cole fumbled, taking a desperate pull from the joint as if the answer might be hiding in the smoke. He passed it to his left and asked through a cough, "Are they not?"

“No, you idiot.” Scarlett threw a lighter at him, which he narrowly dodged.

"Well- why did- “Cole's words stumbled over each other as he locked eyes with you across the table. Your brows knitted together, genuinely bewildered by his desperation. "I- you said they were," he insisted, hand gesturing vaguely in your direction like a drowning man reaching for a life raft.

Scarlett's head whipped toward you so fast her earrings clinked, a new lighter in her hand that was suddenly transformed into a weapon of interrogation, the flame pointed in your direction. "You what?"

"I didn't say that!" Your hands flew up defensively, face flushing as you ransacked your memory for any conversation that could've led to this moment.

But your mind offered nothing but static.

"I asked you if you could believe they were- and-“Cole gestured helplessly at Luigi, who was studying your profile with the intense focus of someone who'd stopped processing verbal language three hits ago. His fingers hadn't stopped their absent dance with your rings once you lowered your hands again from your surrender to Scarlett’s mercy, muscle memory outlasting coherent thought.

Cole felt like he'd stumbled into an alternate dimension where everyone spoke a language he'd never learned while those same pairs of eyes dissected him with the kind of judgment only drunk twenty-somethings could muster, making him feel about two inches tall. "And you said 'yeah, and I'm fucking Luigi,'" he defended weakly, the words sounding more ridiculous with each passing second.

"Yeah!" You practically launched across the table, laughter threatening to bubble over as understanding finally dawned. "Because I'm not!" The force of your declaration nearly knocked over someone's beer, but you were too busy watching Cole's face transform as the shoe finally, finally dropped.

Luigi, for his part, just kept twisting your rings, lost somewhere between the fourth dimension and your knuckles.

Cole's jaw went slack, his eyes darting around the table again where this time everyone had suddenly developed an acute interest in hiding their smirks behind their hands — a masterclass in delayed politeness. "What?" He practically shoved the joint away when it circled back, as if too-late sobriety might make this make more sense. "But- but the dick size jokes and- and you tell everyone he won't kiss you in public."

"Oh, you poor thing." Chloe dabbed at her eyes, tears of mirth threatening to ruin her mascara. "She's always done that shit." The words came out half-strangled by suppressed laughter.

Months passed, and Cole transformed into your personal guardian angel. One desperate NEED SUGAR NOW OR DEATH text to the group chat, and he'd materialize with your favorite convenience store candy before anyone else had even read the message.

He collected details about you: the way your nose scrunched at certain perfumes, how you could quote every line from that one movie, the specific shade of purple that made your eyes light up. When he finally told you he liked you — really liked you, more than he'd ever liked anyone — you said you liked him too.

The gravitational shift was subtle at first — like planets realigning. Your usual perch in Luigi's lap gradually migrated to the chair beside Cole, a transition so natural that few noticed, not even you.

It came to a head one Saturday when Luigi texted his absence from movie night, claiming a sudden illness.

The excuse was paper-thin, and you both knew it.

You stood outside his building, jabbing the buzzer with the familiarity of someone who'd done this a thousand times before. "I know you're not sick, Luigi." Your voice crackled through the intercom, bouncing off the walls of his apartment where he lay curled into himself on the sofa, rigid as rigor mortis. "I can see your Oura ring stats." The betrayal of technology made him groan, and the offending ring went sailing across the room, a tiny meteor of exposed lies.

His father knows the developer.

That's the only reason he'd agreed to wear the damn thing — a circular shackle of obligations that now betrayed him from somewhere under his coffee table.

Your finger finds the buzzer again, gentler this time.

"C'mon, bub. I miss you." The sweetness in your voice hits him like a sucker punch, memories of simpler times wrapped in those words. "It can be me and you tonight. We can have a bestie night." The offer dangles like a Time Machine to the past — back when your world was just two planets in perfect orbit, before it expanded into a solar system of friends.

Before Cole ever came around.

Luigi appears in the doorway like a ghost, just as you're about to admit defeat. Your face splits into a grin, but it falters when you really look at him. "God." Your eyes track the sharp edges of his collarbones beneath his shirt. "Have you been eating?" The question trails behind you as you follow him up the familiar path to the second floor.

The apartment feels wrong — like walking into a black and white version of a color photograph you know by heart. Every blind drawn tight against the afternoon sun, as if he's been developing emotional negatives in the dark. "Hey, what's going on?" Your fingers find his forearm, anchoring him before he can drift away again. "This is kinda giving me flashbacks to when you failed your final."

He flinches like you've pressed on a bruise, eyes scanning his self-made darkness as if seeing it for the first time - the familiar choreography of his pain laid bare by your observation. "This definitely feels different from that." His voice comes out hollow, each word carefully chosen to dance around the real issue.

"Better, or worse?"

"I don't know."

He sinks back into his spot on the couch, the oversized blanket making him look smaller than you've ever seen him. His eyes fix on the half-finished Lego set on his coffee table — the Millennium Falcon he'd started weeks ago, now collecting dust mid-construction.

Three hundred pieces still sealed in their bags, waiting.

"Is it your mom?" you try, but Luigi shakes his head. "Is it school?" Another head shake. "Work?" No. "Was it your aunt Lisa again? That bitch—" He cuts you off with another shake. "Is it me?"

The question hangs there, and Luigi pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders, refusing to meet your eyes.

He lets out a long breath, knowing he's trapped himself here — in this moment, in this conversation, in this truth he's been avoiding.

No way out.

"What?" You cross the room in three quick strides, dropping beside him and tugging at the blanket he's using as camouflage. "What do you mean, Lu? C'mon." Your hands search for any part of him that isn't wrapped in fleece, but he's determined to stay hidden. "What did I do?"

Luigi's eyes catch yours for a fraction of a second before darting away. "I really just want to sleep." The words come out muffled as he tries to fold himself smaller, but you're faster, yanking the blanket down before he can disappear completely. "Please."

"Luigi.” Your voice cracks, and you don't try to hide it. You've never had to beg him for anything before, not in all your years of friendship. "I can't leave knowing you're upset with me." It's the rawest truth you have, stripped down to its bare bones on the couch cushions between you. "Come on. Talk to me."

The silence grows so thick you could suffocate in it, until Luigi finally breaks it with a mumble. "How come you only make jokes about fucking me?" His throat works visibly before he adds, "And not anyone else?"

The question hits you like a slap. Your eyes drift across his coffee table, taking inventory — the joint still smoldering in the ashtray, his anti-anxiety meds beside it, a forgotten Gatorade from the night before.

Everything a testament to hours spent alone with his thoughts.

You drag in a deep breath, searching for words you've never had to examine before. "I mean — that's what we do, you know-"

"No," he cuts you off, voice sharpened. "It's what you do."

"Lu." Your spine straightens as confusion settles in. "Why is this suddenly an issue? I've always- I've always made those kind of jokes about us. How everyone thinks we're dating all the time." You stretch yourself forward, trying to catch his eye, but he keeps his gaze fixed somewhere on the floor. "I just lean into it, I guess. I didn't know it bothered you."

He sighs, the sound muffled as he drags his hands down his face. "It doesn't bother me."

"Then," frustration bleeds into your voice as you throw your hands up, lost in whatever conversation he's having three steps ahead of you. "What do you fucking mean?"

"I- I mean-" His tongue clicks against his teeth, each word coming slow like he's translating from another language. "It doesn't bother me in that way."

"In what way?"

"In the way that means you saying you'd fuck me bothers me."

"But you just said it bothers you."

"No,” he says, “I didn't."

Heat rises up your neck as your patience frays.

Your mind twists itself into knots trying to decode whatever puzzle he's laying out between you. "Look at me." The command comes out sharper than intended as you try to yank the blanket away from him. "Fucking look at me!"

The blanket rips from your hands with unexpected force, sending you sprawling onto his hardwood floor. Your oversized sweater is the only thing saving your tailbone from a bruising. "You fucking asshole." The words come out hot as you fumble for your boots to put over the socks that betrayed you in their slipperiness, and just as you manage to wrangle one on, Luigi emerges from his cocoon, fixing you with a look that stops you cold.

"I mean I guess-“ He clears his throat, looking down at you with that familiar steady gaze, but there's something different layered over it now, something raw. "I mean- Why wouldn't you fuck me?"

The question hits like a fist to the cheekbones.

You freeze, one boot half-laced, mouth hanging open as heat floods you to your temples.

Of all the directions this could have gone, you never expected this brand of brutal honesty, delivered while you're sprawled ungracefully on his living room floor and wrestling with your shoelaces.

Your eyes dart between the coffee table and his face, pieces clicking together with nauseating clarity. "What kind of question is that?" The words come out sharp as your fingers hook uselessly around your boot laces.

"Well, what kind of joke is it to go around telling everyone we fuck?" He throws your logic back at you with devastating precision. "What's so funny about that?"

You bury your face in your hands, a groan muffled against your palms. Every memory floods back at once — all those times he tried to stop you from making dick jokes, all those moments people assumed you were dating and you played it up while he went quiet.

Six years of friendship viewed through this new lens makes your stomach lurch, and another heavy sigh tears from your chest.

"Can you at least tell me?" Luigi's voice comes out barely above a whisper, watching you curled up on his floor like a wounded animal.

You finally lift your head, meeting his stare head-on. "Do you want me to say I'd fuck you?"

The silence wraps around you both like a physical thing, but his eyes stay locked on yours even as color floods his cheeks. "Huh?" You arch an eyebrow, challenging. "Want me to say how hard I'd do it?" Your discarded boot connects with his shin. "How I know you whimper."

As if on cue, a small sound escapes him — half whine, half breath. He's still staring at you like you've knocked all the air from his lungs, struck speechless while you press your newfound advantage.

You move closer, settling between his knees as the blanket slips from his shoulders. With gentle pressure, you ease him back against the couch. "Want me to tell you how none of it was ever really a joke?" Your hand rests against his chest, feeling his heartbeat race beneath your palm. "How every time that you felt me push my ass against your dick wasn’t just your imagination?”

Luigi reaches for you then, fingers trembling as they find your skin — reverent and careful. He's always been tactile with you, always finding excuses to be close. He knows the map of your hands better than you do, how your breathing changes when you drift to sleep, all the little things that make you who you are. "I knew it," he whispers as you settle against him, both of you finally exactly where you're meant to be.

You'd spent so long pushing these thoughts away, rationalizing every touch as just his nature — absent patterns traced on your skin during movies, fingers intertwined during conversations, gentle pressure points mapped across your arms during lengthy lectures.

Each gesture filed away as mindless habit.

But this was different. Every point of contact now carried weight, intention.

"I'd fuck you too," Luigi murmurs, drawing you closer, face pressed against your sweater. His hands spread warm and steady across your back, holding you like something precious, something he's afraid might slip away. “And I’d whine as much as you wanted.”

The next week comes floating by once again, Cole hurrying beside you as you rush to your next lecture, desperately trying to untangle your earbuds, hearing Luigi’s voice echo in your mind, laughing at you for your resistance toward Bluetooth devices. “I - I wanted to see if maybe you wanted to-“

“I’m fucking Luigi.” You turn to Cole, your expression deadpan but fixed, serious but not all that concerned before the doors of the auditorium are flung open, and once again, you vanish behind them.

Cole bursts into a fit of giggles at the thought, realizing now that believing such a thing would be mean he was naive — he’s since learned from his mistakes. “Yeah.” He murmurs to himself, “And Cassie and Dylan are still dating.”

[3igbootyl0ver]

A New Face

pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

summary: where the group of friends meet Chad's new roommate.

word count: 1737

Pt.2 | Pt.3 | Pt.4

a/n: heyyyyy this is my first ever fic I've written, don't mind it being cringy and I'm open to feedback teehee hope ya'll enjoy (p.s I'm new to this whole Tumblr thing cut me some slack 😭)

Chad has been trying to convince the core four to hangout at his apartment. He had been feeling lonely recently since Mindy and Anika had recently moved in together. 

It took him a few weeks to finally convince them into hanging out at his apartment. With Sam’s paranoia and busy work schedule, and the heavy workload for Tara,Mindy, and Anika in college, they were finally able to make the time and hangout. Plus, they could use a new scenery besides the Carpenter’s apartment, right?

That particular day they were supposed to meet up at Chad’s apartment, Tara was feeling under the weather, her finals for her college exam was killing her; And all she wanted to do was eat some greasy dough with sauce and meat while watching scary movies. 

“Hey guys! Come in, the pizza is getting delivered soon.” Chad exclaimed while hopping on his toes, feeling ecstatic since he hadn’t met them for a while. 

“What’s with you? you’re acting like a kid, dude.” Mindy commented, noticing her twin brothers’ gleamed faced and excitement. 

“Sorry, I’ve been lonely and I’m just glad we’re all together again. THE CORE FOUR! And Anika, of course.” 

“Didn’t you put up an online ad for a roommate? Where are they?”

“You don’t learn, do you?” Sam added, frowning with Chad’s method of calling in someone to fill in the extra room. 

Chad abashedly chuckled, and lowered his head, his cheeks burning up from embarrassment. It was Sam, who wouldn’t be scared?

“My roommate is cool! They’re out for work and should be here soon. They’re not a psychotic serial killer, I promise.”

Sam was skeptical, rightfully so. Meanwhile, Tara was sat on the couch, with her legs on the coffee table while scrolling through the tv to find a movie to watch. She couldn’t bother joining in on the conversation. She felt mentally exhausted from her exams and just wanted a day’s rest. 

After a while, the group was playing card games while eating their pizzas and watching movies. 

“That’s not fair Mindy! Stop giving me all the +4 cards!” Tara shrieked, feeling frustrated after getting the card that made her double the number of cards she had at least 4 times, making her chances of winning low.

“Whatever you big baby. Just admit that you suck in uno,” Mindy responded, smirking triumphantly while raising her voice

Tara rolled her eyes, not accepting her defeat and continued arguing with Mindy, with the rest watching amused by the entertainment. Unsurprisingly , Tara lost after Mindy getting rid of her cards before her. She couldn’t get rid of her cards with the suspicious amounts of +4 cards Mindy had. 

“Uno! Looks like I win, LOSER!”

“How about I shove this uno cards up your a-“

Tara’s reply was interrupted by the front door opening, revealing you carrying your backpack on your shoulders and your motorcycle helmet hanging off your hand (which peaked Tara’s interest, of course.) You looked tired, with dark circles under your eye, wearing your hoodie and sweatpants. 

Even so, Tara still thought you were the most beautiful human being she had ever seen. She was practically having heart eyes and drooling at this point, with Mindy noticing her stare and grinning cheekily. 

“What’s up dude. Tough day at work?” Chad commented, trying to create a conversation. 

“You know it, man” you softly chuckled while locking the door. 

“Anyways, my friends are gonna be here for a while. I hope you don’t mind,”

“Not at all, I’m probably just going to take a nap anyways,” you replied, finally looking at the group of people staring you. 

Mindy gave you a nod, already knowing who you were from her brother. Anika smiled and waved at you, which you responded by giving a soft smile back. Sam was staring you down, which made you uncomfortable and creeped out but ignored her action. Tara was well, staring at you? But not how Sam stared at you, she had a blank look on her face. 

Once you left and went into the hallway to your room, Mindy decided make a certain Carpenter’s life a living hell. 

“Tara, are you blushing right now? I didn’t know you had a type” she teased

“Shut up, Mindy. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You guys don’t find her suspicious? Seriously?” Sam commented, wondering why they weren’t skeptical like they usually were when there was new people around. 

It wasn’t new, after the incident of Ghostface, they all had their guards up, scared to open up to new people, to new faces. 

“They’re nice, I promise. How about I call them out so you guys can get to know them? They’re Y/N, by the way” Chad suggested, trying to convince them (especially Sam) to get to know you better before jumping into conclusions that you were a serial killer. 

All of them collectively agreed, with Tara nodding with a slight tint on her cheeks. Chad went up to your room and called you out, suggesting that you should hang out with them. Tara assumed it went well, as Chad grinned toothily and walked away. 

You’ve really peaked her interest. She didn’t know she had a type. The people she had dated before didn’t really cast a spark on her.  She didn’t feel happy or enjoyed her time during those relationships. It felt like she was the problem, however the thought was down the drain after going to a few therapy sessions with Sam after the Ghostface incident. Through the sessions, Tara found out that she didn’t feel happy through the lack of trust and being paranoid that her partner would be a killer. That’s understandable, it’s not everyday that your (ex) girlfriend tries to murder you. 

However after seeing you for 10 seconds, her mind was clouded by you. She noticed that you were as tall as Chad and probably plays sports too, based on your physique. All she thought of was finding out more about you.  Do you study in Blackmore? What bike do you own? Do you prefer cats or dogs? Did you find her cute?

‘Come on, Tara. Get it together.’ She reminded herself  after that embarrassing thought. 

When she saw you come out with the same sweatpants, but with a black t-shirt that showed off your arm sleeve tattoo on your left arm, she was practically drooling. You looked hot as fuck. 

“Hey guys, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Y/N”

“I’m Tara,” she quickly replied, seeing Mindy and Anika grinning at each other with a knowing look from her peripheral vision. 

You gave a smile. You looked cute. You had that cute ass dimples no one could ever resist, Tara thought. You might be the death of her. 

The group settled down and decided to watch a movie, you sat the end of the couch while waiting for the movie to start. Mindy, being an (alleged) amazing wingman she is, literally forced Tara into sitting beside you by pushing her. She sat on the couch with a sigh, annoyed at Mindy’s antics and rolled her eyes. Sam was just giggling at the other side of the couch. 

As much as Sam didn’t trust you, she was glad that Tara could act like a normal teenager again. After multiple therapy sessions, she gave Tara a little bit of more freedom and let her make her own decisions, even if it’s distasteful to her. That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t tase someone in the balls again, though. 

You mistakenly thought the sigh Tara gave out was because she had to sit beside you. You had known about what happened to their group from Chad, after he poured his heart out when he was blackout drunk. You understood the group of friends can be lack trust and be suspicious of new people. 

“Sorry, did you want to sit with someone else? I can sit on the floor if you want-“

“No! I mean it’s okay, I don’t mind sitting with you,” Tara replied with a heavy tint on her cheeks, embarrassed at her sudden reaction. 

Throughout the movie, you were munching on your pizza, oblivious to the amount of times Tara took glances at you while trying to think of topics to create a conversation with you. 

“So..How do you find the movie?” Tara questioned you, trying to get to know you a little bit better. 

“It’s alright, though I prefer other scary movies. I definitely do have favourites.”

“Oh, what’s your favourite horror film?”

“I absolutely love The Babadook, it’s amazing because I..” Any words that you uttered out of that beautiful mouth of yours disappeared. The universe must be sending a sign, she needs you badly. There’s no way Chad’s super cute, hot roommate would coincidentally like The Babadook, Tara thought 

“Blah, blah, blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff..” was all she could hear. 

You on the other hand, only saw Tara staring at you blankly while she had her own inner turmoil and crisis.

“Uh, Tara..? You alright there?” you chuckled awkwardly.

“What? Oh, yeah sorry. I love The Babadook too! What’s your favourite scene?” Tara smoothly taught of a way to continue the conversation, silently cheering for herself. 

It took you both 2 horror films and a shared bag of popcorn to exchange numbers. Tara was secretly cheering in ecstasy of course. She would’ve jumped around and start dancing if she could. It was already close to midnight, and Sam decided that they should go back home before it’s too late to catch the last train.  Tara was devastated, she wished that she could’ve spent more time with you. 

“Soo, I’ll see you next time then? It was nice seeing you.” You initiated a conversation, seeing that Tara was pouting at Sam while trying to convince her into staying a little while longer

“Y-Yeah, see you. We should continue our horror fanatic activities again,” She chuckled, trying to prolong the moment. You nodded your head, giving her a soft smile while leading her, Sam, and the couple out of the apartment, since Chad was knocked out and asleep.

You took your last goodbyes with the group, even giving Sam a small wave, before closing the door. 

In the elevator, all Anika, Mindy and even Sam did was tease her on how red and lovestruck she looked. She didn’t pay any mind to it, all she could ever think of was you. 

[wildestdreamsblog]

The Story of Us: Unedited

Pairing: Mahwa Character!Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You wake up in the body of the second female lead in a manhwa, determined to rewrite your fate. No longer willing to be trapped in unrequited love for the elusive main lead, Min Yoongi, you set out to change the ending of the story. But leaving him behind isn’t as simple as you thought. As the lines between fiction and reality blur, the narrative begins to shift in unexpected ways—Yoongi, who was once only devoted to the main female lead, starts to see you in a new light. Can you escape the cycle of heartbreak, or will you find yourself entangled in a love story you never asked for?

or in which Yoongi found out you aren't from that world and refuses to let you leave.

A/N: This is an unedited very very very raw draft! But I wanted to share this with you before I forget the ideas and before my flight today <33 let me know what you think! ALSO I WILL EDIT THIS WHEN I GET BACK NEXT WEEK AND I WILL POST IT IN TUMBLR. okay bye ily

It was your second week in Paris when curiosity finally got the better of you. Her phone—your phone now—sat untouched on the marble nightstand of your hotel suite. You’d avoided it so far, reasoning that it felt like rifling through a stranger’s diary. But tonight, as the soft glow of the Eiffel Tower illuminated the room, you gave in.

Plugging it in, the device vibrated to life, and a flood of notifications lit up the screen. Your jaw dropped slightly as you skimmed through the endless stream of missed calls and messages. Most of them were from Yoongi.

“Of course,” you muttered under your breath, scrolling through the list. There were texts, voicemails, and even some emails from him, all timestamped over the last two weeks.

His messages started casual enough, asking you where you were and if you were still avoiding him. He even stopped by the mansion only to find out that you weren’t there, let alone in the country. Not one in your mansion could tell him where you were despite his endless threats. As days passed by, however, his tone shifted to frustration.

I’m not kidding anymore. If I don’t hear from you, I’m coming to find you.

I am hiring a team to find you, princess.

His final message was dated today.

I do hope you remember that it is my birthday today. We always celebrate it together. We’re not gonna stop now just because you’re hiding from me.

You stared at the phone for a moment longer, the screen dark now but somehow still demanding your attention. Should you respond? What would you even say?

The phone vibrated in your hand, the screen lighting up with his name. Your stomach did a little flip, but you shook your head firmly. No. You weren’t going to answer. It was better this way—for him, for you, for the storyline. Yoongi belonged with the female lead, and the longer you stayed out of their orbit, the better.

Instead, you grabbed your jacket, ready to explore the city some more. Paris was too beautiful to waste time fretting over a fictional man’s messages. Let Yoongi wait.

But just as you opened your hotel room, there he was with his signature stoic face, his dark brow raised. He pointedly looked at your phone, his name on the screen. He had his phone on his ear, while you had yours in your hand. You were literally caught red-handed ignoring his calls.

He ended the call with a deliberate tap and tucked his phone into his pocket, his gaze never leaving yours.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, shocked at his sudden appearance. He was supposed to be with her. The story said that he was supposed to be with her, celebrating with her, saving her from any other accidents or situations she found herself in.

Yoongi tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” His tone was calm, but the edge was unmistakable. He stepped inside as though he owned the place. He didn’t ask for permission, didn’t wait for an invitation. He was just… there, filling the room with his presence like he always did. “And Paris, of all places? You’re more predictable than you think, princess.”

“I-I mean, I didn’t think you’d notice,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, already regretting how ridiculous it sounded.

“What? How could I not? You literally disappeared on the face of the earth. You think I wouldn’t notice when you disappeared? When you’re not there?”

The intensity in his gaze left you momentarily stunned, your thoughts scrambling for coherence. “Y-you’re not supposed to be here…” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your disbelief bled into your words, your mind struggling to reconcile his presence with what you knew—or thought you knew. “The story says you’re supposed to be with her. This isn’t—this isn’t how it goes.”

“What story?”

You blinked owlishly, realizing what you’d said. “Huh? Nothing!” you exclaimed a little too quickly, waving your hands as if to physically push the moment away. “Anyway! Happy birthday!” you added, your voice unnaturally bright, hoping to distract him.

His squint deepened, a mix of curiosity and frustration flickering in his eyes. He clearly didn’t buy your deflection, but he let it slide—for now. Without a word, he crossed the room to the small bar cart in the corner, casually pouring himself a glass of whisky.

The tension in the air was thick as he swirled the amber liquid in the glass, his movements deliberate. He raised the glass to his lips, his gaze never leaving yours. After taking a slow sip, he finally spoke, his voice low, “Glad you remember my birthday, princess.”

Okay, fine. You were at loss. How were you supposed to know what you should say? This was not in the manhwa! Yoongi was basically going off-script!

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned your gaze to the door, silently willing him to leave. But Yoongi didn’t move. If anything, he seemed more determined, his presence as unyielding as ever.

“Fine,” he said after a long moment, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. “If you won’t come back, then I’ll stay. Paris is nice this time of year, isn’t it?”

Full story (unedited) in KoFi

[thef1diary]

While It Lasts | L. Norris - 1

Summary: Lando expected nothing more than relaxation and fun for two weeks during his summer break. What he didn’t anticipate was meeting you, someone who felt like a perfect match in every way. As the days quickly passed, he found himself falling deeply for you, only to be confronted with the heart-wrenching reality that your time together was far more limited than he ever imagined.

Part 2

PLEASE READ: This story contains themes of loss, morality, fear, death, relationship strains, mental health struggles, including significant emotional impact related to the reader’s journey with a chronic illness and some scenes are set in hospitals. Reminder that this is simply a work of fiction, please don’t take it to heart.

a hugeee thank you to @chilling-seavey @thefourthln @faithshouseofchaos for proofreading this and constantly reassuring me that this isn’t shit 😭 I wouldn’t have posted this fic without your support 🫶🏻

pairing: lando x fem!reader

wc: 15.9k (because tumblr won't let me post the whole thing at once)

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.

“C’mon, you’re gonna love it there,” Lando attempted to persuade his best friend. 

Max Fewtrell rolled his eyes, asking incredulously, “mate, are you seriously considering taking us to a small town over partying all day, everyday in the city?”

Lando shrugged, holding his finger up for a moment, asking him to wait while he scrolled through his phone to find the photos that Carlos sent him earlier. “It’s not just a small town, look at this.” He turned the phone around to show his best friend the photos of their potential home for the next two weeks. 

Max scoffed, still not believing that Lando was changing their pre-made plans at the last minute, “and why would Carlos just give you the keys to that villa looking thing?” 

“It’s his uncle’s vacation home, and it’ll be empty if we don’t go. You don’t want to leave this beauty empty, do you?” 

Max sighed, rolling his eyes at his best friend’s antics. As soon as he saw the photos, he was convinced to discard the previous plans and take the opportunity to live in that home, but of course he wouldn’t admit it straightaway. 

“Show me the photos again,” he simply muttered, earning a laugh from Lando as he swiped through the pictures. 

“There’s literally only one other house nearby, we won’t get that in the city now, would we?” Lando commented, watching the cogs turning in Max’s mind. 

Despite Max's initial reluctance, Lando could see the spark of curiosity flickering in his friend's eyes as he examined the photos. He knew he was close to winning Max over.

"So, what do you say, Max? Are you in?" Lando pressed, a hopeful tone in his voice.

Max hesitated for a moment, weighing his options before finally letting out a resigned sigh. "Alright, fine, you win. Let's give this small town adventure a shot," he conceded, unable to resist the allure of the stunning villa.

Lando grinned triumphantly. "Trust me, mate, you won't regret it," he assured him, clapping him on the back.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see about that. When are we leaving?” He asked instead, still not wanting to get his hopes up in case he would be left disappointed. 

“Tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?” Max asked, eyes widening when Lando nodded. 

“Go pack your bags, mate,” Lando shoved him with full force once he noticed Max wasn’t leaving the room.

He laughed when Max finally regained his sense of motion and scrambled out the room, muttering to himself while packing everything he thought he needed for the next two weeks. Despite having a habit of travelling, it wasn’t any less stressful to pack, especially with a short notice.  

Lando sighed and leaned back into his chair, holding up his phone in front of him. He admired the picturesque view of the villa in the photos, containing his excitement because he would be able to see the same view in person soon enough. 

Perhaps this was what he needed, especially after the stress that continued to build up over the first half of the season. While he had a better start to the season than he was used to, it didn’t ease any pressure. He was constantly thinking about what he can do as a driver to improve the car while having to face the media at every race weekend and answering the same question over and over again. It was too much for him to handle. 

It was part of the reason why he was adamant on convincing Max to take a break in a place where they wouldn’t be seen as much as they usually do in Monaco. It would give him a chance of exploring a new town while also staying under the radar. 

When Carlos first suggested the idea, Lando instantly agreed. The promise of two weeks of relaxation and exploration ahead sounded like a dream to him. Lando couldn't wait to leave the pressures of the racing world behind and immerse himself in the beauty of the coastal town. Little did he know, amidst the winding streets and sun-kissed beaches, he would find more than just a temporary escape.

— 

As the taxi pulled up to the gates, the driver turned to them with a grin. "Here we are, gentlemen. Enjoy your stay," he announced, gesturing towards the grand entrance of the villa. 

Max and Lando exchanged glances, eager to explore the town. They thanked the driver before stepping out of the taxi, and their eyes widened in awe at the sight of their temporary abode. The grand villa stood just up ahead of them, its white walls gleaming in the golden light of the setting sun. The only barrier slightly obstructing their view were the large steel gates, shut to prevent any trespassers. 

"Whoa!" Max exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement.

Lando nodded in agreement, already reaching for his phone to capture the moment. "This place is insane," he remarked, snapping a quick selfie, giving a cheesy smile while holding up his thumb with the villa in the background.

Max chuckled, watching as Lando posed for the photo. "Gonna send that to Carlos?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face.

Lando nodded, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Yep, just to make him jealous," he replied, tapping away at his phone before sending the selfie to Carlos with a playful message: ‘You’re missing out!’

“Where’s he anyways?” Max asked but his gaze never left the sight in front of him. 

Lando’s thumbs moved across the screen as he typed out another message, possibly replying to Carlos who always texted back within minutes. 

Moments later, he turned the phone to show the screen to Max. Carlos had responded to Lando’s selfie with one of his own, showing off the view he was enjoying in the background. A pair of blue goggles covered his eyes and he held his thumb up in a playful manner as well. It was evident that he was standing on a yacht, surrounded by a form of nature in its entirety. 

“Guess he’s not exactly missing out. When is he not on a boat?” Max asked jokingly. 

Lando shrugged, “when he’s not cycling I guess.” 

When he turned the screen back towards him, he noticed another text from Carlos. ‘Don’t break anything’

He scoffed, shaking his head before pocketing his phone, ignoring his message. He was mature enough to know that, even if a few broken trophies claimed otherwise. 

The taxi drove off, leaving the men standing with their luggages in front of the gate. The breeze passed through Lando’s curls, causing him to turn around and squint his eyes to look up at the leaves on the trees swaying around. The setting sun pierced his eyes, but his gaze didn’t waver from it, a smile growing on his face since he already began liking the peaceful environment. 

“Mate,” Max’s voice broke the silence. When Lando looked at him expectantly, he gestured towards the gates. “Are we just here to look at it from outside or do you know the code to get in?”

Lando’s eyes widened, “oh yeah, Carlos told me the code, hold on.” He fumbled for his phone, quickly locating the message from Carlos with the access code. 

Before he could punch in the code, the sound of a car door slamming loudly took their attention away from the villa. 

Max and Lando simultaneously spotted another home further down the street across from theirs, the only one apart from the villa for miles. It stood in stark contrast, a quaint cottage nestled amidst a grove of cherry blossom trees. It looked smaller, but they knew not to be fooled, knowing the cottage only appeared smaller since it was further away. 

"Looks like we've got neighbors," Lando remarked, pointing towards the distant cottage. 

“So much for silence,” Max mumbled. 

As soon as Max’s words were spoken out loud, their attention shifted to the cause of the sound; you. 

Unlike Lando and Max, your day hadn’t been going well. Actually, you don’t believe that you’ve experienced a single good day in the past couple years; not since the day you received your reports. 

You remember that day vividly, the memories playing out in your mind like a horror movie. Despite many efforts from your close friends and family to cheer you up, you don’t believe that any smile you’ve given was genuine. Not a single one. 

You shut your eyes tightly, but it only intensified the memories, causing you to find a way to shift your attention. Your gaze was attracted to the sun that was moments away from slipping underneath the horizon. 

Contrasting to Lando’s thoughts from earlier, who smiled at the sunset because watching it cemented the fact that he was away from the chaos in cities and his world of racing, you thought of the guarantee that the sun will rise again tomorrow, one certainty you never had about yourself. 

Once you slammed the car door shut, a surge of frustration and anger coursed through you, making your brother, Isaac, who was also getting out of the car, wince in discomfort. It was his car, after all, and you knew you shouldn't take your frustrations out on one of his most prized possessions, but the weight of your own mortality pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket.

Another visit to the hospital had left you feeling drained and defeated, the latest round of test results delivering yet another blow to your already fragile health. The doctors' words echoed in your mind, their somber tones a stark reminder of the grim reality you faced.

You were angry – angry at the world for dealing you such a terrible fate, angry at your own body for betraying you, angry at the uncertainty that loomed over your future like a dark cloud. Would you live another day, another year, or was each moment you spent on this earth merely borrowed time?

Your hands trembled with a mixture of fear and frustration as you struggled to make sense of it all. You’ve been in this situation multiple times over the past couple years, wondering why the doctors always gave you a false sense of hope until the facts proved otherwise, but every time still felt like the first. Your illness was something you could never wrap your head around. The questions swirled in your mind, unanswered and unanswerable, leaving you feeling helpless and alone.

As you leaned against the car, your breath coming in ragged gasps, you felt a sense of despair wash over you. The world seemed cruel and indifferent, its vastness stretching out before you like an endless void.

Despite looking at the sun until it made your eyes water, or perhaps those were just your tears caused by your anger turning into sadness, your mind was still filled with all sorts of thoughts while your heart held various emotions. 

The one thing that did divert your mind was the sound of rackety steel gates opening further down the street. Those gates hadn’t been open in about a year, making it in desperate need of oil on the hinges. 

You remembered the family that visited very often once upon a time—the Sainz family—but those visits became less and less frequent as the years went by. 

However, once you heard laughter echoing down the street, you couldn’t place a name to the sound. You squinted your eyes to focus on the scene since you had forgotten your glasses inside your home. Your eyesight was one of the first things that started deteriorating, making it hard to believe that you once had perfect vision.

You could make out the shape of two men, seemingly young and nowhere near a part of the family that owned the villa. 

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the villa, knowing it was time to spend a quiet night in. The sun had long gone beneath the horizon, turning the orange skies into hues of blue as you made your way towards your small cottage.

Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of stale coffee from the early morning hours before you rushed to the hospital. The unmistakable scent of antiseptics mixed with coffee, a reminder that your home was slowly becoming similar to the emergency rooms. 

Your brother hovered nearby, his expression etched with concern as he watched you sink into a worn armchair. He had moved in once your health didn’t show any signs of improvement, taking on the older brother role even if he was a few years younger. 

"Are you okay?" Isaac asked, his voice filled with worry.

You nodded, forcing a weak smile as you tried to push aside the weight of your own fears. "I'm fine," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

But deep down, you knew the truth. You were anything but fine. The uncertainty of your future loomed over you like a dark cloud, threatening to consume you whole.

“Do you need anything before I make dinner?” He stood in front of you, fidgeting with his hands. 

The mention of dinner made you look up at him, shifting in the armchair as you prepared to stand up. His hands instantly shot out in case you stumbled over your feet. 

“Let me help you make dinner,” you spoke, placing your hand on his shoulder to stabilize yourself. 

He began shaking his head but your eyes pleaded with him. 

“Please, I’m not completely useless yet,” You added, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to deny you since it was a trick you used when you were both younger. 

He sighed, wanting to tell you that you weren’t useless at all, but it would open another can of worms. “Don’t push yourself too hard,” he settled instead. 

You firmly nodded, and threaded your arm around his as he led you to the kitchen. He knew that he shouldn’t have let you help, especially after an appointment, but he also knew that if he left you alone, your thoughts would drown you. 

All you needed was company, and he was more than willing to do anything to help you especially since he felt helpless otherwise. 

The rhythmic chopping of vegetables filled the air as you and Isaac worked together in the kitchen. He hovered nearby, his presence a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your struggle.

"Need any help with that?" he asked, gesturing towards the cutting board where you were slicing tomatoes with unsteady hands.

You shook your head, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. "I've got it, thanks."

But he could see through your facade, his eyes filled with concern as he watched you work. "Are you sure? You seem a bit off today." 

He had made it his responsibility to take you to your appointments, and he noticed that your mood deflated even more than the last visit.

You forced a smile, hoping to alleviate his worries. "I'm fine, just tired from the hospital visit."

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press further. Instead, he moved closer, offering a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Well, let me know if you need anything. I'm here for you, okay?"

You nodded, grateful for his support. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

As you continued to cook together, the tension in the air eased, replaced by the familiar rhythm of sibling banter and shared laughter. 

“Oh, did you see our new neighbours?” You asked once you sat down to eat. 

Your brother nodded, a muffled sound leaving his mouth since he was in the midst of chewing. 

Your face twisted in disgust, “ew, eat your food, don’t show it.” He playfully smacked your arm before swallowing and you had to hide the wince that almost overtook your expressions. You rubbed your arm once he was distracted, already knowing that it’ll bruise even if the smack was light. 

“As I was saying,” he glared at you for a brief moment before continuing, “I noticed them coming in.” 

“How long do you think they’re gonna stay?” 

He added, making you shrug, “no idea, a couple weeks?” 

Meanwhile, down the street, Max and Lando were immediately struck by the grandeur inside the villa. They had already explored the surroundings outside while the sun was setting, and were greeted by a scene of serene beauty and tranquility. 

The sprawling grounds stretched out before them, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. Lush greenery enveloped the landscape, with meticulously landscaped gardens and manicured lawns spreading out in all directions.

Tall palm trees swayed gently in the breeze, their fronds rustling softly as if whispering secrets to the wind. Vibrant bursts of color from exotic flowers and fragrant blossoms added splashes of brightness to the landscape, while the sweet scent of blooming jasmine and lavender hung in the air.

A cobblestone pathway wound its way through the gardens, meandering past secluded alcoves and hidden nooks waiting to be explored. Stone benches and wrought iron chairs provided inviting spots to sit and enjoy the beauty of nature, while the soothing sound of a trickling fountain added a sense of serenity to the atmosphere.

In the distance, the shimmering surface of a swimming pool caught the last rays of sunlight, beckoning with promises of cool refreshment on a warm summer's day. Beyond the pool, a charming gazebo nestled amidst a grove of trees offered a secluded retreat, its elegant structure inviting relaxation and contemplation.

Inside the villa, Max and Lando found themselves immersed in a world of luxury and refinement. Marble floors gleamed underfoot, their polished surfaces reflecting the soft glow of crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The air was infused with the scent of subtle hints of vanilla and sandalwood, creating an atmosphere of opulence.

Plush furnishings adorned with rich fabrics and intricate patterns beckoned invitingly, promising comfort and relaxation. Oversized sofas and armchairs offered sumptuous seating, their cushions plump and inviting, while ornate coffee tables and sideboards showcased exquisite craftsmanship and timeless elegance.

Large windows framed breathtaking views of the surrounding countryside, their sheer curtains billowing gently in the breeze. Soft, ambient lighting cast warm pools of light in every corner, creating a sense of coziness and intimacy that enveloped the space.

Throughout the villa, works of art adorned the walls, adding a touch of sophistication and culture to the elegant surroundings. Paintings and sculptures, each one a masterpiece in its own right, spoke of a life of privilege and refinement, while delicate vases filled with fresh flowers added a touch of natural beauty to the lavish interiors.

In every room, from the grand foyer to the luxurious bedrooms and bathrooms, attention to detail was evident at every turn. From the intricate carvings on the furniture to the delicate lace trim on the curtains, no expense had been spared in creating a sanctuary of unparalleled beauty and comfort.

As Max and Lando explored the villa, they couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and awe at the sheer magnificence of their surroundings. For a moment, they forgot about the outside world, lost in the splendor of their temporary home and the promise of adventure that lay ahead.

While Max’s gaze wandered around in amazement, Lando nudged him with a mischievous smile of his own. “Told ya it’ll be worth it.” 

He rolled his eyes but still agreed, “yeah I guess it is.” 

Then, Max bursted into a sprint, running up the stairs while yelling loudly, “I get first pick!” 

Lando shook his head, disagreeing immediately while chasing behind him. After all, they were two men who were kids at heart that were given a huge home all for themselves. 

The next morning dawned bright and clear, filling the villa with a warm golden light that spilled through the windows and danced across the marble floors. 

Lando had been awake for the past couple hours, his internal clock still set to his racing routine. He had woken up to the melody of birds chirping away and light filtering through the sheer curtains, basking for a moment in the change of scenery. 

He had gone for a morning run, relishing the fresh air and serene beauty of the surroundings. On the way back, he picked up some pastries from a local bakery, their aroma enticing and warm. 

Returning to the villa, Lando hummed a tune as he walked towards the kitchen. He paused for a moment, his eyes widening at the amount of natural light coming in through the big windows. The morning sun added a fresh, beautiful touch to the villa, reflecting off the furniture and transforming the space. 

As he placed the pastries on the kitchen counter, Max emerged from his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, taking in the sight of the sun-drenched villa. “Morning, mate,” he greeted, his voice still laced with traces of sleep. 

“Morning, Max,” Lando replied, holding back a chuckle at his messy morning hair. 

He was lured by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, mingling with the scent of freshly baked pastries. 

“Mm, smells amazing but where did these come from?” He asked before popping a pastry in his mouth. His eyes closed as it melted in his mouth, savouring the taste for a moment. 

Lando grinned, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Glad you like them, I picked them up on my morning run,” he admitted. 

Max raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You went for a run?” he asked, his tone filled with amusement. 

Lando nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, figured I’d explore the area a bit and see what’s around,” he explained. 

The first thing Lando did when he laid in bed last night was bring out his phone to search for things to do in this small town. Unfortunately, the internet wasn’t much help, so he decided to take a look around by himself, and perhaps even ask a few locals for advice. 

Then he ducked his head and rubbed his palm on the nape of his neck, “and Jon told me to keep training while we’re here.” 

Max chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, thanks for bringing back breakfast,” he added, reaching for another pastry. 

Lando picked up one for himself. “Yeah, no problem, but don’t expect it everyday,” he said with a cheeky smile. Max rolled his eyes, ignoring his comment as he sipped on his coffee. 

“What are you planning on doing today?” Max asked after a moment of silence. 

“I saw this market on my run earlier, and was thinking of going to go check it out,” he hummed, thinking back to the beautiful scenery during his short cardio session. 

Max laughed, “look at you, living the small town life already.” 

Lando reached over to smack the pastry out of Max’s hand that he was about to eat. “Hey!” He exclaimed, looking at the fallen treat. 

There was a beat of silence, before Max and Lando made eye contact and then they bursted out into giggles. Amidst their laughter, Max reached down to pick up the fallen pastry, dusting it off before stuffing it in his mouth. 

“Five-second rule, mate,” he muffled. 

“What are you gonna do?” Lando asked, ignoring his best friend’s antics.

He simply shrugged, “I don’t know, mate.” 

“Wanna join me?” Lando suggested, earning a nod from Max, a teasing smile growing on his face. 

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

Lando rolled his eyes, “you don’t have to wait for me to ask.” 

With their breakfast antics over, Lando and Max quickly finished their coffee before deciding to venture out into the town. As they stepped outside, the warm rays of the sun enveloped them, casting a golden glow over the quaint streets. 

The scorching sun bore down upon them, turning the cobblestones into radiant paths of heat. Lando and Max, feeling the intensity of the sun’s rays, walked with beads of sweat forming on their brows. 

Max shielded his eyes from the sun with a hand since he had misplaced his sunglasses. 

Once they were a couple minutes into the walk, they realized that the market they planned to visit was further away than they initially thought. The narrow streets, lined with colourful houses and blooming flowers, stretched out before them, inviting them on a leisurely stroll. 

“Why are we walking?” Max asked, still holding his hand up for a shade. 

Lando raised his own sunglasses to the top of his head in disbelief, “why don’t you have your sunglasses?” 

“Forgot ‘em at the villa,” he grumbled, which only made Lando laugh louder. 

“Check your pockets, mate.” 

Max’s eyes widened when he did in fact find his sunglasses in his pocket. He slid them onto his face with a sigh of relief, finally able to open his eyes properly. 

Just as they began to feel the discomfort of the sweltering weather, a gentle breeze swept in from the nearby seaside, bringing with it a cool and invigorating relief. The breeze, infused with the scent of salt, tousled their hair and kissed their skin, providing a much needed respite from the heat. 

After a few more minutes of walking, Max and Lando finally stumbled upon the market. It was nestled in a quaint square lined with vibrant stalls, each overflowing with a colourful array of fruits, vegetables, flowers, and artisanal crafts. 

They wove their way through the crowded square, taking in the sights and the sounds of the market. The air was alive with the chatter of vendors and the laughter of shoppers, creating a lively atmosphere. The breeze was stronger as the market was closer to the seaside, blowing close to harsh wind in their faces, but it was welcomed due to the strong sun. 

As they browsed the stalls, Max sampled a couple local delicacies first and Lando waited for his approval before trying them as well. 

“Does it have fish?” Lando asked, hesitant in taking the sample from the vendor. 

The vendor chuckled, “no, sir, it’s a dessert filled with cream, topped with hardened sugar.” 

Lando’s mouth dropped open in understanding before taking the sample from him. 

Max couldn’t resist picking up a few souvenirs to take home, like a proper tourist, while Lando struck up conversations with other locals, wanting to find out some details about the town. 

As he held a couple bags of items he bought to remember this trip, Max’s eyes lit up when he spotted a bakery on the other side of the market. 

“Hey, I’m going to check out the bakery over there,” Max pointed. “Grab a couple more treats,” he added. 

Lando nodded, his attention drawn to a colourful display of ripe fruits nearby. “Sounds good, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” 

The two friends parted ways, Max was enticed by the scent of warm pastries waiting for him while Lando’s mouth watered at the sight of juicy fruits. His trainer had wanted him to stay healthy throughout the break anyways, and this was the perfect opportunity. 

He greeted the vendor and began eyeing the various fruits; plump oranges, crisp apples, perfectly ripe bananas, and more. 

“Good morning! What can I get for you today?” The vendor asked, and Lando thought for a moment before replying. 

“I’ll take some of those oranges, grapes, and oh some apples too, please.” 

The vendor nodded and began putting the fruits into the paper bags, but paused once he bagged both the grapes and oranges. “Forget these apples, get these ones instead,” they said while showcasing another tray of apples that looked very similar. 

“It’s our premium organic apples, the best ones of the bunch.” 

Lando hesitated for a moment, but the vendor’s persuasive tone convinced him that it was a steal. 

To persuade Lando even further, the vendor added, “these ones are special, organic, freshly picked this morning. I’ll give you a good deal, just five dollars for one.” 

Lando blinked in surprise at the price, wondering if a single apple was genuinely five dollars, but then again he never had to do any grocery shopping on his own. Jon would usually bring it for him, or do all the work if they went together. 

Then he reasoned that it must be a rare variety or exceptionally fresh. “Alright, sounds good, give me a couple.” 

Lando happily handed over the money, and thanked the vendor once they passed over the bags. He paused for a moment once he returned to the main street, inhaling the breeze, feeling the tension of his usual everyday life slowly melt away. 

He spotted Max, noticing that he held even more bags than when he previously saw him. As Lando and Max regrouped near the bakery, the latter raved about the variety of treats he bought. “Mate! I think I bought everything.” 

They scanned the bustling market once more, wondering if they should take another look or return to the villa. Max’s gaze wandered towards the seaside, where tranquil waves lapped against the shore. 

“Hey, isn’t that our neighbour from the villa? The one who lives in the cottage?” Max asked, gaining Lando’s attention. 

He followed Max’s gaze and spotted you sitting alone on a bench gazing out at the sparkling sea. Recognition dawned on Lando’s face as he remembered you from yesterday. “Yeah, it is, should I go say hi?” 

Max considered it for a moment, glancing back at the path towards the villa before turning to Lando with a shrug. “Sure, why not? I’ll head back to the villa; catch up later yeah?” 

Lando nodded, grateful for Max’s understanding. “Are you sure you’ll be fine with carrying all that?” He asked jokingly, gesturing at the bags he held. 

“Shut up,” he muttered, nudging him with his shoulder. 

Lando walked off with a chuckle, “see ya.” 

His laughter died down as he approached you, noticing that your gaze was still fixed on the horizon as if you were searching for answers in the endless expanse of the sea. Perhaps you were, and he felt slightly guilty for approaching you, especially since you were far away from the rest of the crowd. 

However, before he could abort the idea, you glanced to the side, looking at him with confusion replacing your previous expressions. 

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, flashing a friendly smile as he stood there, pointing to the empty space next to you. 

Your eyes clouded with a mixture of weariness and suspicion. "Suit yourself," you replied, your tone curt.

Undeterred by your guarded demeanor, Lando took a seat beside you, his curiosity piqued by the enigmatic stranger before him. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" he ventured, attempting to break the ice.

You scoffed, a bitter edge creeping into your voice. "I suppose," you muttered, your gaze returning to the horizon.

Sensing the walls you had erected around yourself, Lando decided to tread carefully, unwilling to push too hard too soon. He placed the bag of fruits on the grass before extending his hand in greeting. "I'm Lando," he introduced himself. 

You hesitated for a moment before reluctantly accepting his handshake and introduced yourself, offering a tentative smile that failed to reach your eyes.

He repeated your name, wanting to become familiar with the way the vowels wrapped around his lips because he had a feeling that he would be saying your name a lot more often now. 

Despite the initial awkwardness, Lando found himself drawn to you, intrigued by the mystery that shrouded your presence. He wondered why you were sitting here alone when there was a crowded market not too far away from here, but he didn’t have the strength to ask just yet. 

He leaned against the bench, sighing as he watched the horizon just like you were. However, it became difficult to choose if the seaside view was prettier or you. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep, so he stole some glances at you every couple of moments without you knowing. 

As you sat in companionable silence, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore provided a soothing backdrop, preventing the situation from feeling awkward. 

“How long have you lived in this town?” Lando asked, but the moment he did, he thought that it was too intrusive. 

He waited, one beat, two beats, before you responded. “I’ve lived here my whole life,” you admitted. 

A small smile threatened to grace your lips as you thought of the happier memories you’ve spent here, the ones before the news that turned you into a shell of the person you were once. 

“This town has always been home to me,” you added. 

Lando’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Really? That’s amazing,” he exclaimed, genuine interest sparkling in his eyes. But then his brows furrowed, “have you never felt like leaving this place behind? Move somewhere in the city?” 

You pressed your lips together in a tight smile, thinking of a response that wasn’t along the lines of I did want to leave. I had plans and dreams of studying abroad, living in the city, but fate had a different plan. Instead, you shrugged, “no, I’ve never thought about it before. I guess I like the community here, you know, everyone knows everyone.” 

He chuckled, “that can’t be a good thing all the time though.” 

You shook your head, “not always, news travels around pretty fast.” Feeling a tad bit intrigued by him, you asked, “so what made you come here?” 

“The villa. It’s my friend’s family’s villa and he lent it out for a couple weeks,” he explained, causing you to widen your eyes. “Oh, so you’re my neighbour?” 

He ducked his head and smiled sheepishly, “yeah, that’s, um, kind of why I approached you in the first place.” 

As the conversation ebbed between you and Lando, a comfortable silence settled over the two of you, punctuated only by the rhythmic sounds of waves crashing against the shore. 

After a while, Lando cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Hey, I was wondering… since you’re a local and all, would you mind showing me and a friend around town?” he asked, a hopeful smile on his face. 

When you didn’t answer right away, he continued explaining. “We’ve never been here before, and since we’re here for two weeks, I want to know every hidden gem and secret spot here, something less touristy.” 

You could tell that he was beginning to become nervous, especially based on your expression which you assumed wasn’t kind. You forced a smile on your face, instinctively grazing his knee with your palm that wouldn’t stop bouncing up and down. 

“Yeah, I’ll show you guys around,” you responded, and the warmth of your tone sent a ripple of excitement through Lando. 

His smile widened, “thank you! I went by the market today but I feel like I should have someone giving me a little bit more direction on what to do here.” 

“Oh you went to the market? Buy anything?” You asked, wanting to keep the conversation flowing as well, especially since you liked hearing him speak. 

Lando gestured to the paper bag resting on the floor, “I got a couple fruits. Max, my friend, stocked up on the pastries from the bakery there. He already fell in love with them.” 

You didn’t stop the smile growing on your face. “I totally get that, anything from that bakery is to die for.” 

But then you glanced at the bag he held, and watching your gaze, he elaborated. “I got these organic apples, the vendor said they were giving me a pretty good deal, five dollars each.” 

Your jaw dropped, “five dollars each? You totally got scammed.”

Lando’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Scammed? What do you mean?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. 

“No one sells a single apple for $5, Lando, no matter how ‘organic’ they tell you it is,” you explain, but based on his expression, he still didn’t understand why. 

Although his eyes did widen as he examined the contents. Now that he thought about it, the prices on the fruit seemed exorbitant, far beyond what he thought Jon paid. 

“Everyone in this town bargains, especially in the market,” you added, and he frowned. 

“I don’t need to bargain.” 

You shook your head. “I’m sure you’re rich enough, but the point is that every vendor marks up the price because they know the locals bargain. The public is happy because they bargained, and the vendor is satisfied because the products still sell at a good price.” 

He nodded in understanding, “oh, that’s weird, usually you just pay the price on the tag.” 

“Well that’s the thing, there aren’t any tags, the vendors just set the prices, and they also mark it up if they know that you’re a tourist.”��

His jaw dropped in surprise, “what? That’s not fair.” 

“And that is why you need to know your way around here,” you added, earning a smile from him. 

“That’s why you’re my tour guide.” 

You looked at the horizon as his gaze felt too intense in that moment. He still looked at you, a soft smile on his face mixed with lingering curiosity about you and this town that seemed to draw him in instantly. 

Just then, a familiar voice called out from behind you. “Hey, I’m all done, let’s go back home now?” 

You turned to see Isaac standing with his hands full of produce he bought for dinner, but a curious expression on his face as he noticed Lando next to you. 

“Um, yeah, did you get everything?” You ask as you stand up, and your brother immediately holds out his arm so you can loop your own with his. 

“Yes ma’am, I bought everything on the list,” he said playfully. 

Before he could lead you away, you patted his arm and glanced at Lando, “oh, this is Lando, our neighbour, at the villa.” 

Your brother’s eyes flickered with recognition as he glanced at Lando. “Ah, yes, nice to meet you, I’m Isaac.” 

The corner of Lando’s lip turned up briefly, before he nodded, “same here.” 

The afternoon sun was shining, yet it was cooler than earlier, making the journey back towards your street easier. The market had an influx of visitors since many preferred to stay at home when the morning heat was ablaze. 

Since the three of you were headed in the same direction, you decided to walk together. You walked side by side with your brother, your arm still looped with his. Lando had taken the liberty to carry a couple bags that Isaac held. 

Lando walked a couple steps ahead, as if he was the local and you were the tourist. You didn’t mind it though, because his gaze confused you. Every time he looked at you, he was either close to figuring out your secrets or he was just blissfully unaware.  

He was still a stranger, and you had no plans on telling him anything more than you had to. 

As you walked, the lively chatter of the market gradually faded into the background, replaced by the soothing sounds of the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. 

Despite the tranquility of the moment, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of your mind. Lando’s presence just a couple steps in front of you felt both comforting and disconcerting, his easy demeanour belaying the mystery that seemed to arise at times. 

You thought back to your conversation at the bench, not finding anything concerning about the questions he asked or the responses to yours, but you couldn’t help but still feel on edge. Perhaps you wanted to trust him, but your mind didn’t allow it as easily as your heart willed you to. 

Isaac couldn’t resist teasing you, nudging your side with his elbow and tilting his head towards Lando. 

“So what’s the deal with you and the new neighbour, huh?” he whispered, keeping his voice down to prevent Lando from hearing him. 

You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his arm. “Oh, please. There’s no deal, we just met today.” 

Isaac raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Uh-huh, sure. But I think you’ll be seeing him a lot more often now, don’t you think so?” 

You nodded, “well he does live nearby, and he wants me to be a tour guide for him and his friend, Max, for the time they’re here.” 

He chuckled, his grin widening. “That’s very convenient. But I think you’ve got an admirer.” 

You scoffed, trying to brush off his teasing. “Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just being friendly.” 

“Keep telling yourself that, we’ll see what happens in the next couple of days,” he stated as he draped an arm around your shoulder which only lasted a couple seconds before you pushed him away. 

Since he wasn’t satisfied with just teasing you, he joined Lando’s side, instantly striking up a conversation. “So, Lando, enjoying your stay in our little town so far?” 

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Definitely, it’s been a refreshing change of scenery.” 

They continued on, speaking as if they knew each other for years.

As you neared the cottage, Lando handed Isaac the paper bags and bid you farewell. “Thanks for the company today, I’ll see you guys around.” 

With a nod and a wave, you and Isaac made your way inside, leaving the events of the day behind you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your shared abode. 

—

As the late morning sun filtered through the curtains, you stirred from your sleep, greeted by the familiar routine that marks the start of another day. The soft chirping of birds and faint chatter outside your window served as your alarm, nudging you gently into wakefulness.

You slid out of bed and padded over to the window, drawing back the curtains to reveal the tranquil scene outside. The small seaside town unfolded before you, bathed in the soft glow of morning light. It was a picturesque sight, one that you've grown accustomed to over the years.

With a sigh, you turned away from the window and began your morning routine. It's a well-worn pattern by now – first, you head to the bathroom to wash up and brush your teeth, the sound of running water a familiar soundtrack to your mornings.

Next comes the more clinical aspect of your routine. You reached for the small plastic organizer on the bathroom counter, filled with an assortment of medications neatly arranged in separate compartments. Your brother's voice echoed in your mind as you recalled his daily reminder to take your pills – a routine that has become as routine as brushing your teeth.

You dutifully pop each pill into your mouth, washing them down with a gulp of water. It's a mundane task, but one that is essential to your well-being. You've grown accustomed to the bitter taste of the medication, the lingering reminder of your illness that you can't escape.

Once the pills are swallowed, you move on to the next item on your checklist. Your brother's voice drifts in from the hallway, asking if you've taken your medication yet. You respond with a simple "yes," the words slipping easily from your lips.

As you go about your morning routine, there's a sense of detachment that settles over you – a feeling of going through the motions without really being present. It's a coping mechanism, a way to distance yourself from the reality of your illness and the uncertainty that comes with it.

But despite the clinical nature of your routine, there's a quiet determination that drives you forward. Each pill swallowed, each task completed is a small victory in the ongoing battle against your illness, however it’s a battle that you’re not sure if you’ll win or not. 

You finish your morning routine and join Isaac in the kitchen, where he’s already preparing breakfast. He glances up at you as you enter, a warm smile on his face. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he greets you, handing you a mug of steaming coffee, your one and only cup a day according to doctor’s orders. 

Still lost in your thoughts, you burn your tongue as you take the first sip. Isaac eyes you carefully, a hint of concern in his gaze as you grab an ice cube and stick it in your mouth. 

“You doing okay?” he asks, his voice soft. 

You force a smile, hoping to reassure him. Pushing the ice cube towards your cheek, you speak, “yeah, just another day.” 

“Just another day? Don’t you have to show Lando and Max around?” He asks, but quickly shifts his gaze to the egg on the pan. 

You nod, grateful for the distraction from your thoughts. "Yeah, I do. I almost forgot," you reply, mentally shaking off the lingering unease that had gripped you earlier.

Isaac watches you closely, his concern evident in his furrowed brow. "Are you sure you're up for it?" he asks, his tone gentle.

You give him a reassuring smile, trying to push aside the gnawing doubts that linger at the back of your mind. 

"I'll be fine," you insist, though the words sound hollow even to your own ears. “I’m thinking of showing them around some of the touristy spots first to get it out of the way, and then some historical sites if they’re up for it,” you explain, making a mental checklist. 

He nods, accepting your answer for now. "Just take it easy, okay? And call me if you need anything," he says, reaching out to squeeze your hand.

You squeeze his hand back, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thanks, Isaac," you murmur, feeling a sense of warmth wash over you in his presence.

Together, you and Isaac finish your breakfast in companionable silence, the weight of the upcoming day lingering in the air. But there was a hint of excitement brewing in your mind once you were reminded of your neighbours, and perhaps it’ll distract you from your usual thoughts. 

Meanwhile, Lando dashed around his room, wearing only a pair of pants, his movements quick and purposeful as he rummaged through his suitcase, searching for the perfect shirt for the day ahead. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, his brow furrowing in frustration as he realized how quickly time was slipping away.

"Max, are you almost ready?" he called out, his voice tinged with urgency.

From the living room, Max's relaxed voice drifted back. "Yeah, just taking my time. No rush, right?"

Lando rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he continued his frantic search for the right outfit. He held up a full sleeved sweatshirt against himself, judging the shirt in the mirror.

“No, too hot,” he muttered to himself and tossed the garment aside. He continued shuffling through the suitcase, not having the time to unpack completely. 

Then he held up a simpler t-shirt, considering it for a moment before shaking his head. “Too casual,” he mumbled, discarding it onto the growing pile of rejected clothes. 

With a sense of growing frustration, Lando finally spotted a light, airy button-down shirt that seemed suitable for the warm weather. He quickly slipped it on, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as the fabric settled comfortably against his skin. 

Satisfied with his choice, Lando turns his attention to his hair, running his fingers through his unruly curls in an attempt to tame them into some semblance of order. After a few futile attempts, he huffed and searched around for his beloved bucket hat, placing it on his head to prevent putting more effort into his hair. 

Glancing at himself in the mirror, he straightened his shirt and adjusted his hat. As a final touch, Lando grabbed his sunglasses and hastily shoved them in his pocket, then grabbed his phone and wallet before heading out of the room. 

As he entered the living room, Lando found Max lounging on the couch, seemingly unperturbed by the passing time. "C'mon, mate, we're gonna be late because of you," Lando chided, his tone laced with exasperation.

Max shrugged nonchalantly, a lazy grin playing across his lips. "She didn't give you a time."

Lando resisted the urge to roll his eyes, his frustration mounting with each passing second. "I know, but she's taking time out of her day to show us around. We need to be respectful."

Max chuckled, propping himself up on one elbow as he regarded Lando with amusement. "You asked her to show us around, you didn't need to."

Lando sighed, his patience wearing thin. "She's a local, Max. It's important to make a good impression."

Max's grin widened, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Is that all what she is?"

Soon enough, Max decided to spare his best friend from further frustration and went upstairs to get dressed. 

While he did so, Lando thought about Max’s question, which he left unanswered. You were a mere stranger, yet after meeting you yesterday, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. 

Lando instantly sat up after a moment, looking around the room and spotting his digital camera sitting on the table nearby. He picked it up by the straps of the bag, wanting to take as many photos of the events of today as he could. 

The sound of footsteps echoed from upstairs, and soon Max reappeared, clad in a fresh set of clothes. He flashed a grin before taking his phone back from Lando. 

“Finally ready?” Lando teased, looking up at him. 

Max rolled his eyes, “yes.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair before asking, “what’s the plan for today?” 

Lando shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “that’s for our lovely tour guide to decide.” 

With a nod of agreement, Lando walked beside Max as they left the villa together. 

Their footsteps crunched echoed softly against the cobblestone path. The afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the landscape, illuminating the streets as it was at the highest peak. As they made their way down the path, they spotted you stepping out of the cottage, a faint smile on your face as you headed towards them. 

“Hey, look who’s here,” Max remarked, nudging Lando with his elbow. 

Lando grinned in return, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “Hi,” he muttered as you stood in front of him. 

You were quickly introduced to Max, and exchanged greetings before leading the way down the street. 

“So, where are we off to today?” Max asked, his gaze looking around before returning back to you. 

“Well, I thought we could start with a stroll through the town square,” you suggested, gesturing towards the many narrow streets. “Then, I’ll show you around a couple historic spots?” You asked, pausing and looking at them for a reaction. 

Lando nodded in agreement, “sounds like a plan, lead the way, tour guide.” 

With a playful grin, you set off towards the heart of the town, Lando and Max falling into step beside you. 

As you lead Lando and Max through the winding streets of the town, each building you pass enveloped you in a sense of nostalgia. Each cobblestone path seemed to hold a story, whispered through the intricate architecture and vibrant colours of houses. 

“You see that old bookstore over there?” you pointed, a smile playing on your lips. “It’s been here for generations, and they have the most fascinating collection of rare books.” 

Lando’s eyes sparkled with intrigue as he glanced at the bookstore. “I’ll have to check it out then,” he stated. 

“Avid reader?” You asked, walking side by side. 

He shook his head, “not at all, but there has to be something fascinating if you like it.” 

You chuckled at his response, focusing your gaze ahead as you felt your cheeks redden. “Well, I worked there as a teen, and from my experience, it’s always worth exploring.” 

Lando nodded in agreement, his gaze lingering on the bookstore as you passed by it. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Max fell a couple of steps behind as he watched the interaction between you and Lando. Then he quickly caught up to his best friend, nudging him gently to gain his attention. “You know I’m here too, right?” 

Lando rolled his eyes, “yeah, yeah, I know.” 

As you led the way through the bustling crowd, Lando and Max trailed behind you, keeping close to ensure they didn’t lose sight of you amidst the throng of people. Along the winding streets, you were greeted by familiar faces, the locals calling out your name and exchanging warm greetings as you passed by. 

Lando eagerly captured every picturesque moment with his camera. Occasionally, he would lower the camera to observe you as you engaged in conversations with strangers, raising the camera to his eye once more to capture candid moments of your interactions with them.

Amidst the lively atmosphere, you pointed out hidden gems nestled in the nooks and crannies of the town. From cozy art galleries adorned with vibrant paintings to antique shops filled with treasures of bygone eras, each discovery added to the tapestry of the town’s charm. 

With each step, you shared tidbits of local history and anecdotes, painting a vivid picture of life in the town. Lando and Max listened attentively, their eyes alight with curiosity as they soaked in the sights and sounds of the vibrant community. 

Walking down the narrow streets, you pointed out the historic clock tower and the old, abandoned church beside it. You mentioned that it was the oldest structure in town and pushed open the wooden doors.

Max looked around, intrigued. The interior had a musty scent mixed with faint incense, and sunlight streamed through stained glass, casting colorful patterns. He admired the architecture, understanding why it was cherished.

As you explored, you shared the tower’s history, noting its construction by skilled craftsmen from distant towns. The vaulted ceilings and stone pillars added to the sense of reverence. You paused, letting Max and Lando roam.

They were captivated by the church’s history and beauty, momentarily forgetting the outside world. Emerging into the sunlight, they exchanged awed glances, touched by the experience. It was a moment they would remember.

“So, what’s next on the agenda?” Lando asked, glancing down at his camera and scrolling through the photos before looking up at you. 

You grinned, “well there’s a garden not too far from here. It’s the perfect place to unwind and enjoy the beauty of nature.” 

Max’s eyes lit up with excitement, “yes, please, that sounds amazing.” 

With a laugh, you led them along winding pathways lined with vibrant blooms leading towards the tranquil garden. 

Max let out a contented sigh, “this place is amazing.” 

You smiled, gesturing towards a cluster of vibrant flowers. “There’s something magical about it.” 

Lando nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the picturesque surroundings. “Definitely worth the visit,” he remarked, raising his camera to capture the beauty around him. 

The tranquility of the garden seemed to envelop you, wrapping you in a sense of peace and serenity. Tall trees cast dappled shadows across the well-tended lawns, providing relief from the midday sun. The air was alive with the melodious chirping of birds and the occasional buzz of bees flitting from blossom to blossom. 

The garden was a lush oasis, meticulously landscaped with winding pathways that meandered among vibrant flower beds and verdant shrubbery. 

Max glanced at the pond, where a family of ducks paddled lazily. "Hey, check out those ducks," he exclaimed, pointing towards the water. "They look so peaceful."

You chuckled, nodding towards a nearby bench. "Let's take a seat and enjoy the view," you suggested.

As you sat on the stone bench, a sense of calm washed over you, the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds creating a soothing melody. Max and Lando joined you, their expressions reflecting a similar sense of contentment.

Water lilies floated gracefully on top of the clear waters, their delicate blooms adding a touch of elegance to the scene. 

"This is nice," Max remarked, leaning back against the bench. "Thanks for bringing us here."

Lando nodded, his gaze drifting across the garden. "Yeah, it's a hidden gem," he agreed. "I never would've found it on my own."

You smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction at sharing this special place with your neighbours. "I'm glad you both like it," you said warmly. "There's so much beauty to discover in this town if you know where to look."

As Lando admired the blooming flowers around him, his eyes settled on a particularly vibrant flower. With a grin, he plucked it from its stem, carefully holding it between his fingers.

"Hey, can I?" he asked, gesturing towards your hair with a playful twinkle in his eye.

You chuckled, nodding in amusement. "Sure, go ahead," you replied, tilting your head slightly to give him better access.

Lando leaned towards you with a grin, gently tucking the flower behind your ear. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingers brushing against your skin as he adjusted the placement of the bloom.

"There," he said with satisfaction, leaning back to admire his handiwork. "Looks perfect."

You couldn't help but smile at the gesture, feeling a warmth spread through you at the simple yet thoughtful gesture. "Thank you," you said softly, meeting Lando's gaze with appreciation.

You picked out another flower, holding it in front of him with a small smile. “My turn?” 

Lando chuckled, leaning forward and allowing you to place the flower behind his ear. His gaze remained steady on your face, watching as you stuck the tip of your tongue out between your lips in concentration. 

Leaning back, you looked at him with a smile. “There, now we match.” 

“I see how it is,” Max grumbled from beside you, earning a chuckle from you and Lando. 

Simultaneously, you and Lando picked out a couple of flowers, and placed them in his hair, his curls holding it steady. 

“Cute,” you commented once you completed the masterpiece with the last flower. Max laughed as he looked at himself in his phone camera, snapping a selfie for memories before telling you and Lando to join. 

Your face was squished between Lando and Max’s faces, both men displaying a cheesy grin for the photo, making you join in as well. 

As the gentle breeze ruffled through the garden, Lando turned towards you with a curious glint in his eyes. “Are there any other magical places you want to show us?” 

You pondered for a moment, considering the myriad of hidden gems scattered throughout the town. “Well, there’s one more spot I have in mind,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 

Max perked up at the mention of another adventure, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “I’m in, lead the way.” 

With a nod, you rose from the bench, the flower in your hair swaying gently with the movement. “Let’s go,” you said, gesturing for Max and Lando to join you as you embarked on the next part of your journey. 

As you led Max and Lando out of the garden, the thought of another special place lingered in your mind. The lighthouse, with its storied history and breathtaking views, beckoned to you like a beacon in the distance. 

Lost in thought, you considered whether to reveal this cherished spot to your neighbours. The lighthouse held a special significance for you, a place of solace and reflection that you rarely shared with others. But something about Max and Lando’s genuine curiosity and enthusiasm stirred something within you, prompting you to entertain the idea of introducing them to this hidden gem. 

With a flicker of determination, you made up your mind. The lighthouse would be the perfect finale to your tour, a fitting conclusion to a day filled with discovery and adventure. 

As you neared the lighthouse, it stood tall against the sky, looking sturdy and ancient. Lando seemed really excited, his eyes wide as he took it all in. Max looked a bit unsure, especially when he saw the stairs leading up. 

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” you said softly once you saw Lando’s expression, feeling a sense of awe yourself. 

He nodded eagerly, clearly impressed. “Yeah, it’s really cool,” he said, his voice filled with excitement. 

“Are we going up there?” Max asked, a hint of apprehension creeping into his voice as he surveyed the towering structure. 

You nodded, a sense of reverence washing over you as you gazed up at the weathered bricks and the solitary lateen perched at the top of the lighthouse. “Yes, it’s probably my favourite spot in this entire town.” 

But Max seemed hesitant, eyeing the stairs with doubt. “I’m not too sure about this,” he admitted quietly. 

You understood his feelings and wanted to reassure him. “That’s okay, Max,” you said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t have to climb all the way up if you don’t want to. We can still explore around here.” 

Max glanced at Lando, “actually you know what? you guys should go up.” Max said suddenly, giving you a nod, “I’ll stay down here.” 

You frowned, “are you sure? I can show you around elsewhere.” 

But Max shook his head, “yeah, I’m sure. I know Lando really wants to check it out and I don’t wanna hold you guys back.” 

“You’re gonna miss out, mate, just c’mon it’s a couple stairs,” Lando tried to convince his best friend. 

He shook his head, “a couple? Looks like a lot, no, I’m good.” 

With a final nod of reassurance, you and Lando headed towards the first couple of stairs, leaving Max behind. As you began the trek upwards, your comment from earlier intrigued Lando. “Why is this your favourite spot?” 

“People don’t come here often, perhaps it’s because of the story behind it,” you replied, your words tinged with a hint of mystery. 

“What, is it haunted or something?” He asked, a skeptical look crossing his face. 

You shook your head, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “Legend says that this lighthouse is haunted, but I believe it’s just a tragic love story,” you explained. 

“A love story? Do tell,” Lando urged, his curiosity piqued. 

“It was decades ago, the story passed on from neighbour to neighbour, so I’m not exactly sure which parts are true,” you forewarned. 

Lando smiled, “and you’re passing it on to your neighbour.” 

You glanced back at him, pausing for a moment so he could catch up, standing on the same step as you, just a tad bit taller. You didn’t realize how narrow the staircase was until he was standing beside you, since you’ve only ever come here alone. 

The air was heavy with the scent of salt and sea, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore echoed faintly in the distance. Lando's eyes scanned your face, patiently waiting to hear the story. 

You cleared your throat, looking away from him. "You see, there was once a young couple who sought refuge in this lighthouse," you began, your voice tinged with a hint of melancholy, recounting an old tale. "They were not from noble families or romance novels, but rather ordinary people with ordinary lives."

Lando leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued by the hint of mystery in your voice, causing you to shift on your feet but still remaining in the same spot, almost pressed against the wall beside you. 

"The young man was a fisherman, his days spent toiling away on the sea, his hands calloused from years of hard work," you continued, your words painting a picture of a life marked by struggle and perseverance. "And the young woman was a seamstress, her fingers nimble with the needle and thread, her dreams tempered by the harsh realities of life."

Lando's gaze softened with empathy as he imagined the challenges faced by the young couple. 

"But despite the hardships they endured, their love burned fiercely, a flame that refused to be extinguished by the storms of life," you said, your voice tinged with admiration for the resilience of the human spirit. "They would steal moments together in the quiet solitude of the lighthouse, finding solace in each other's arms amidst the chaos of the world."

Lando's heart swelled with warmth at the thought of such a simple yet profound love. You cleared your throat once you saw a hint of his smile, turning away and continuing your trek up the stairs while continuing the story. 

"But their happiness was fleeting, as life has a way of testing even the strongest of bonds," you continued, your voice growing somber as you recounted the challenges faced by the young couple. "Their days were filled with hardship and uncertainty, their dreams overshadowed by the harsh realities of poverty."

Lando followed after you, his breath caught in his throat as he listened, his heart heavy with the weight of the young couple's struggles. 

"And so, when tragedy struck and the young man was lost at sea, the young woman was left alone to face the cruel hand of fate," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of the wind howling through the lighthouse. "Her grief was a burden too heavy to bear, her tears a testament to the depth of her sorrow."

Tears welled in Lando's eyes as he imagined the young woman's pain. 

"And though the years passed and the world moved on, the lighthouse remained standing as a silent witness to the love that once flourished within its walls," you concluded, your voice tinged with a sense of reverence for the enduring legacy of the young couple. "Their spirits may have faded into the mists of time, but their love lives on in the whispers of the wind and the crashing of the waves, a reminder that even in the darkest of nights, love can be a guiding light."

Lando remained silent, his heart heavy with the weight of the young couple's story, as he pondered the fragile nature of love and the enduring power of human resilience in the face of adversity.

“You’re not making this up, are you?” He asked, just to be sure, but once he didn’t see you burst out laughing, he knew the answer. 

"Legend has it that their spirits linger within these walls, bound by an eternal love that transcends the confines of time," you explained. "They say the light still flickers on stormy nights, a beacon of hope in the darkness, as if she's searching for her lost love amidst the crashing waves."

As you and Lando continued climbing the spiral staircase, the wooden steps creaked beneath your feet, each groan echoing through the hollow chamber like a whispered secret. The air grew cooler as you ascended, a faint scent of salt lingering in the air, a reminder of the vast expanse of ocean that stretched out beyond the horizon.

With each step, the world outside faded away, replaced by the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the narrow windows, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow on the worn stone walls. Lando's footsteps fell in sync with yours, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of the swirling emotions that stirred within you.

As you reach the top of the lighthouse, a sense of awe washed over you, the panoramic view of the coastline stretching out before you like a painting come to life. The sea stretched out endlessly, its surface shimmering in the sunlight, while seagulls soared overhead, their cries mingling with the distant roar of the waves. It’s a sight you’ve seen many times, but every time still feels like the first. 

Lando stood beside you, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his expression a mixture of wonder and awe. For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the weight of the young couple's story hanging heavy in the air, a reminder of the fragile nature of love and the enduring power of human resilience.

As the light of the setting sun bathed the world in a warm golden glow, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you, a quiet acceptance of the mysteries that lay hidden within the depths of the human heart.

With a soft sigh, you turned to Lando, a small smile playing on your lips. "Isn't it beautiful?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando nodded, his eyes shining with a newfound appreciation for the simple beauty of the world around him. "It's breathtaking," he agreed, his voice tinged with emotion.

As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting vibrant hues of orange and pink across the sky, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the breathtaking beauty of the sunset. The world seemed to slow down, the cares and worries of the day fading away as you stood transfixed by the natural spectacle unfolding before you.

But as the sky darkened and the first stars began to twinkle overhead, a pang of realization cut through the tranquil moment. It was almost nighttime, which meant it was time for your pills. You glanced at your watch, a flicker of anxiety fluttering in your chest as you calculated the minutes ticking away.

For a brief moment, you considered the consequences of being late in taking your medication. The regimen was strict, the consequences dire if you missed a dose. But as you looked at Lando standing beside you, gazing at you,  his eyes reflecting the colors of the setting sun, a different thought crossed your mind.

Maybe, just this once, it was worth it to be a little late. Maybe, in this moment of shared beauty and connection, the rules could be bent just enough to allow you to savor the fleeting magic of the evening.

With a soft smile, you tucked the thought away, allowing yourself to linger a little while longer in the warm embrace of the sunset. 

“Stay like that,” Lando instructed with a pointed finger at you. 

“Like what?” You mumbled. 

“Don’t move a muscle,” he hastily replied, holding the straps of the camera that was hung around his neck, quickly turning it on and pointing at you. 

“You look beautiful in this light,” He stated, slightly gesturing to his camera before raising it. 

A tint of blush covered your cheeks but you didn’t prevent him from taking a photo of you. 

Remaining still, you heard the shutter click, once, twice, and even a third time before he was satisfied with the result. 

“What are you going to do with those photos?” You ask, remembering that he’s taken quite a lot of them today, of all the different sceneries. 

“Put 'em in an album, you know, for memories, and I can’t forget my favourite tour guide,” he said with a cheeky grin. 

“Favourite? That’s quite a title for only the first day,” you teased with a smile, leaning against the railing, choosing to look at Lando instead of the setting sun. 

“You know how to make a good impression, it’s hard not to call you my favourite.” 

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I'm glad I could leave a good impression," you replied, a hint of playfulness in your tone.

Lando grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You've done more than that," he said, his voice softening. "You've shown us a side of this town that we never would've discovered on our own."

You felt a swell of pride at his words, grateful for the opportunity to share your hometown with new friends. "I'm just happy I could show you around," you said sincerely.

As the last rays of sunlight faded into darkness, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from Lando's, the moment of connection lingering in the air between you. "I suppose we should head back now," you said, a hint of regret coloring your voice.

Lando hesitated but nodded in agreement, “can’t keep Max waiting this long.” 

But before you could move, he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Thank you, for everything," he said softly, his eyes searching yours.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his touch, a rush of warmth flooding through you at the intimate gesture. "You're welcome," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

With a lingering smile, Lando turned and started back towards the path, leaving you standing alone on the balcony, your thoughts swirling with a heady mix of emotions. Shaking your head to rid yourself of those thoughts, you followed him down the steps. 

“Mate, it’s good that you didn’t come, she said it’s haunted.” You heard Lando’s voice, speaking to Max. 

When you came into his view, Max looked at you with widened eyes, “haunted?” 

You shrugged, looking at Lando, “it’ll make for a good bedtime story, don’t you think?” 

Max started shaking his head, but Lando nodded, “I’ll be sure to tell him right before he gets a good night’s sleep.” 

On the way back home, Lando had been so impressed by your touring skills that he had already started asking about your plans for the next day. With no responsibilities on your schedule, the three of you decided to go hiking on a nearby trail.

As you reached your cottage, the familiar sense of fatigue washed over you, dulling the edges of your excitement from the day’s activities. With a wave and a promise to meet again tomorrow for more adventures, you bid farewell to Lando and Max, watching as they walked off to the villa. 

Once they were out of sight, you allowed your smile to fade, the weight of the day settling heavily on your shoulders. The ache in your joints intensified, a reminder of the illness that lurked beneath the surface, threatening to consume you if you let your guard down. 

Stepping inside the cottage, you were surprised to find Isaac waiting for you in the dimly lit living room. His expression was a mix of concern and mild frustration as he looked up from his book.

"You didn’t take your nightly pills on time," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You know you can’t skip it."

You sighed, the heaviness in your chest feeling almost unbearable. "Isaac, stop acting like our mother," you mumbled, moving past him to the kitchen.

Isaac followed you, not willing to let it go. "I’m serious. You’ve had a long day, and you need to take care of yourself. I don’t want you to overdo it."

Grabbing the bottle of medication from the counter, you turned to face him, irritation mingling with the fatigue in your eyes. "I know, okay? I just wanted one evening where I didn’t have to think about it. Just one."

He watched you with a mix of empathy and helplessness, understanding your need for normalcy but unable to ignore the reality of your condition. "I get it, I really do. But skipping your meds isn’t the way to do it."

With a heavy sigh, you filled a glass with water and downed the pills, the bitter taste lingering on your tongue. "Happy now?" you muttered, setting the empty glass down.

Isaac's expression softened, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. "I’m just worried about you," he said quietly.

You nodded, the weight of his concern settling heavily on your shoulders. "I know. I appreciate it, really. It’s just… sometimes it’s hard to keep going like this."

He reached out and squeezed your shoulder gently. "We’ll get through it, together. Just promise me you’ll take it easy tomorrow, okay?"

A faint smile tugged at your lips as you nodded. "Go get some sleep. You’ve been waiting up for me."

Isaac gave you a small, reassuring smile before heading to his room. As you settled into bed, the weight of exhaustion dragging at your limbs, you couldn’t help but wonder how many more days like this lay ahead. The uncertainty of the future loomed large in your mind, casting a shadow over even the simplest moments of joy.

As you drifted off to sleep, your thoughts lingered on Lando and Max. Their arrival felt like a breath of fresh air, a chance to momentarily forget about your illness and embrace a semblance of normalcy. They didn’t know about your condition, which meant they wouldn't look at you with pity or treat you like a fragile doll. Their presence offered a respite from the constant reminders of your limitations, an opportunity to live in the moment and savor each day as it came.

For so long, your life had been governed by routines and restrictions, every decision weighed against the backdrop of your illness. But with Lando and Max, you felt a sense of freedom, an invitation to break away from the chains that bound you. They saw you not as someone fragile, but as a capable guide and a new friend. You wanted to hold onto that feeling, to let their presence remind you of who you were beyond the confines of your diagnosis.

Their energy and zest for life felt like a tonic; lifting your spirits and reigniting your desire to experience the world beyond your illness. With them, you could laugh freely, explore without fear, and simply be yourself without constantly worrying. Yet, there was a lingering guilt that gnawed at you, a silent whisper that you were using them, exploiting their company to escape your reality. 

Despite the joy they brought, this guilt cast a shadow over your newfound happiness. You didn’t want to deceive them or yourself, but the allure of living fully and freely, even for a short while, was too tempting to resist. You resolved to make the most of their visit, using their company as an excuse to live as vibrant as you once did. 

—

The next morning, you moved with practiced stealth, careful not to make a sound as you gathered your hiking gear. The house was still and quiet, the early hour providing a perfect cover for your escape. You knew your brother would disapprove of your plans to go hiking with Lando, so you hoped to slip out before he noticed.

Just as you reached the front door, the sound of footsteps halted your progress. Turning, you saw Isaac standing there, a backpack slung over his shoulder, clearly ready to head out himself. His eyes narrowed as he took in your gear.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Isaac’s voice was tight with concern.

You sighed, knowing this confrontation was inevitable. “I’m going hiking with Lando. It’s just a short trail, nothing too strenuous.”

Isaac’s expression darkened. “Didn’t I tell you to take it easy? When are you going to take care of yourself?”

“What more do you want me to do?” you snapped, your frustration bubbling over. “Should I wrap myself up in bubble wrap and stay in bed until I inevitably die?”

“Don’t say that,” Isaac’s voice wavered, his concern morphing into something deeper and more painful.

“I have to!” you shouted, the dam of pent-up emotions finally breaking. “I have to acknowledge it, to you, to our parents, because while you guys are doing everything in your power to ignore it, it’s still gonna happen whether you like it or not.”

He took a step back, his face pale. “I just want you to be safe.”

“I’m going to die anyways,” you continued, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession. “Whether it’s tomorrow or a couple of weeks later, I’ve accepted that by now. You know why? Because even if I’m alive right now, I’m treated like a fucking corpse. I cannot do a single thing without our mother’s voice in my mind. ‘Oh, don’t stand for too long, don’t walk for too long, take your meds, don’t let your heartbeat speed up, don’t eat this, don’t eat that.’ It’s fucking tiring. Forget her, I can’t even be an older sister anymore for you. For god’s sake, you make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for us. You’re acting as if I can’t lift a single spoon.”

Isaac’s eyes were filled with tears now, but you couldn’t stop. The words poured out, each one a release of years of pent-up frustration and pain. “The entire town knows, Isaac. Any time I go out, I see the pity in their eyes. You know who doesn’t know? Lando and Max. And I have no plans on telling them because they actually treat me like a healthy human, something you guys won’t ever do again.”

You didn’t wait for his response, not allowing him to speak. You walked out the door, letting it close behind you with a finality that echoed your determination. 

When you reached, Lando was already waiting for you by the trailhead, leaning casually against a tree with his backpack at his feet. He waved when he saw you approaching, his smile faltering slightly as he noticed the tension in your posture and the slight frown on your face.

"Hey, there you are!" he called out, his voice bright. "I was starting to think you'd changed your mind."

"Sorry, I'm a bit late," you replied, forcing a smile.

Lando's brow furrowed with concern. "Everything okay?"

You waved it off, not wanting to delve into the argument with Isaac. "Yeah, just had a rough morning. Let's get going, shall we?"

He nodded, still seeming a bit unsure. "Alright, if you say so." He hoisted his backpack over his shoulder and fell into step beside you as you started down the trail.

“Max isn’t joining us today?” you asked as you started the hike.

Lando shrugged playfully. “Nah, he’s not really the hiking type.”

In truth, Lando thought back to the moment he convinced Max to do something else. He had wanted this time alone with you, to get to know you better without any distractions. The way your face lit up when you talked about your favorite places made him want to see more of that joy.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Yeah, he doesn't seem like the outdoorsy type. I guess we'll have to find something else to drag him into."

As you continued along the path, Lando’s closeness became even more evident. He would occasionally place his hand on your back to guide you over rough terrain or hold your hand to help you across a stream. Each touch was gentle yet charged with an energy that made your heart race.

The path wound through a dense forest, dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of pine and the sound of birds chirping. As you walked, the tension from your argument with Isaac began to ease, the peaceful surroundings and Lando's infectious enthusiasm slowly lifting your spirits.

"Maybe we can convince him to join us on a beach day or something," Lando said, his thoughts lingering on how much he enjoyed these moments alone with you. "But honestly, I'm kinda glad it's just the two of us today. More time to get to know my favorite tour guide."

You felt a flutter in your chest at his words, the compliment warming you from the inside. “Still your favorite tour guide, huh?”

He shrugged playfully. "The competition is tough, but you’re always coming out on top. Besides, I figured I needed some one-on-one time to really experience what this town has to offer."

As the trail began to climb, you focused on your breathing, matching your pace to Lando's. The conversation drifted to lighter topics, and you found yourself relaxing more with each step. The forest opened up to a meadow filled with wildflowers, the colors vivid and bright under the morning sun.

Lando knelt down to take a photo of a particularly vibrant patch of flowers. "This place is incredible. How do you know all these hidden spots?"

"I've lived here my whole life," you said, watching him as he adjusted the focus on his camera. "Spent a lot of time exploring."

"Must be nice," he said, standing up and looking around. "Having all this beauty right in your backyard."

"Yeah, it is," you replied, though your thoughts drifted back to the times you wanted to leave this place. "Sometimes you take it for granted until you share it with someone else."

Eventually, you reached a lookout point with a breathtaking view of the coastline along with the lighthouse you explored yesterday. The ocean stretched out endlessly, waves glittering in the sunlight. Lando pulled out his camera again, capturing the scene and a few candid shots of you taking in the view.

"This is amazing," he said, his voice filled with awe. "Thanks for bringing me here."

You smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment mixed with a pang of guilt. Lando didn’t know the real reason behind your determination to hike today, nor the weight you were trying to escape. 

"You're welcome," you replied. "I'm glad you're here to share it with me."

As you stood there, side by side with Lando, your words said to Isaac still lingered in the back of your mind, wondering if you'd said the wrong thing. You knew that you had to take a stand for yourself, otherwise you’d be pressured into regret, but he’s also your brother and he’s always wanted the best for you. You pushed those thoughts down, determined to make the most of this day as if it was your last. 

With Lando's enthusiasm and the beauty of the surroundings, you found it easier to forget, even if just for a little while, the shadow that always loomed over you.

"So, what's next on our adventure?" Lando asked, breaking the silence.

You laughed softly. "Let's just see where the trail takes us."

Once Lando was satisfied with the amount of photos he took, you began to descend the trail from the lookout point. The path became steeper causing you to walk carefully, trying to focus on your footing. 

The trail wound through another section of dense forest with the ground covered in a thick layer of fallen leaves. You and Lando continued to chat, touching upon all sorts of topics. 

Just as you were starting to relax, your foot caught on a hidden root and you found yourself losing balance. Panic surged through you as your ankle twisted painfully. Before you could hit the ground, Lando was there, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you upright. His grip was strong and steady, and you clung to him for a moment, trying to catch your breath and process the sudden burst of pain. 

“Whoa, are you okay?” Lando asked, concern etched on his face as he steadied you. 

You winced, trying to put weight on your ankle and finding it difficult. “I think I twisted my ankle.” 

Lando’s brows furrowed with worry. “Let’s sit down for a minute. Here, lean on me.” 

He guided you to a nearby rock, helping you sit down gently. He knelt in front of you, examining your ankle with a careful touch. “Does it hurt a lot?” 

You nodded, biting your lip to keep from crying out. “Yeah, it does.”

Lando looked around, his face serious. “I think we should head back. I don’t want you to make it worse.”

You sighed, feeling a wave of frustration mixed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Lando. I didn’t mean to ruin our hike.”

He shook his head, his expression softening. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Your safety is more important than the hike. Besides, we can always come back another time.”

He helped you stand, supporting your weight as you gingerly tested your injured ankle. With his arm around your waist, you felt a mixture of gratitude and awkwardness, acutely aware of his closeness and the concern in his eyes.

As you slowly made your way back down the trail, Lando stayed close, his grip on you firm but gentle. His presence was comforting, and despite the pain, you felt a sense of connection with him that was hard to ignore.

Back at the trailhead, Lando leads you towards his car, surprising you. “When did you get a car?” 

“Figured I’d rent one while I’m here, just so we don’t have to walk everywhere,” Lando shrugged as he explained. 

He helped you into his car, making sure you were comfortable before getting in himself. He started the car, casting quick glances at you to ensure you were alright. The engine’s hum was a soothing background noise as he navigated the road back to town. 

“You know,” he began, trying to lighten the mood, “I think this might be the first hike I’ve been on where we didn’t make it to the top.”

You chuckled softly, appreciating his effort to keep things light. “There’s a first for everything, I guess.”

He smiled, eyes focused on the road. “Yeah, and now we have an excuse to do it again. When you’re feeling better, of course.”

You leaned back, the pain in your ankle dulling slightly with the rest. “I appreciate that, Lando. And I promise, next time, no hidden roots.”

He laughed, a genuine sound that made you feel a bit better about the whole situation. “Deal.”

As you pulled into the town, Lando’s concern was still evident. “Do you want to go straight to the clinic, or should we stop by your place first?”

“Home is fine,” you replied. “I’ll just need some ice and rest.”

Lando nodded, driving directly to your house. He parked and quickly came around to help you out. With his support, you hobbled across the driveway to the front door, quickly finding your keys and entering. 

Inside, you settled on the couch while Lando fetched some ice from the kitchen with your directions. He elevated your foot, resting it on a cushion before gently placing the ice pack on your ankle. “Keep this on for a while,” he instructed, earning a chuckle from you. 

“Okay, Doctor Lando.” You winced slightly at the cold but knew it was necessary. “Thank you,” you muttered softly as he joined you on the couch. 

“Hey, what are friends for?” He shot back.

You raised your eyebrows. “When did we become friends?” you asked teasingly. 

Without a beat, he responded, “from the moment you told me I got scammed.” 

You shook your head with a smile on your face. His genuine care and the connection you felt during the hike was undeniable. Despite the pain and the day’s mishap, you still enjoyed it all. 

As you both sat there, the sun beginning to set outside, you felt a strange sense of peace. Maybe you couldn’t control everything about your condition, but you could control how you spent your time. Right now, with Lando by your side, you felt like you were making the most of it. 

“How about we watch a movie?” Lando suggested, breaking the comfortable silence. “Something to take your mind off things.” 

“That sounds perfect,” you agreed. 

As the movie started, you felt the tension of the day begin to fade, replaced by a warm sense of contentment. As the soft glow of the television cast a warm light across the room, you heard the front door creak open. You tensed slightly, knowing it was Isaac. The memory of your heated argument from earlier that morning returned to your mind like it was fresh, and you weren’t sure how he would react to finding Lando here. 

Isaac stepped into the living room, his eyes flicking between you and Lando, and then down to your ankle propped up with an ice pack. His brows furrowed in surprise, and his look spoke volumes — a silent “I told you so” about taking it too far.

“Hey,” Isaac said, his tone carefully neutral as he addressed Lando. “What’s going on here?”

“Hey,” Lando responded, sensing the tension but keeping his tone friendly. “We went hiking, and she twisted her ankle.”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of concern and frustration flashing across his face. “I see.”

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the need to explain but also not wanting to escalate the situation. “It’s just a sprain, Isaac. Lando’s been helping me out.”

Isaac nodded curtly, his gaze softening slightly but still clearly worried. “Thanks, mate,” he addressed Lando. 

He started towards the kitchen, clearly not wanting to prolong the conversation but not ignoring your presence either.

You watched him go, feeling a mix of relief and lingering tension. The argument had left a mark, but you could see that he was making an effort to understand your perspective, even if he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Lando glanced at you, sensing the undercurrent of emotion. “You and your brother… everything okay?”

You sighed softly, not wanting to burden him with the details. “We had a disagreement earlier. It’s complicated.”

He nodded, not pushing further but offering a supportive presence. “Well, I’m here if you need anything.”

Isaac reappeared a few minutes later with a glass of water, which he handed to you without a word. You took it with a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

He simply nodded again and headed to his room, leaving you and Lando alone in the living room. Despite the brief interaction, you felt a subtle shift in Isaac’s demeanor. He was trying, in his own way, to respect your wishes and not overdo his concern for your illness.

As the movie continued, you found yourself relaxing again, the earlier tension easing away. Lando’s easygoing nature and the quiet understanding from your brother provided a much-needed sense of balance.

The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself growing more comfortable and drowsy, especially with Lando’s warm presence beside you. Earlier, you had mentioned feeling cold, due to the ice, and he had fetched a blanket, draping it over both of you. As you nestled into the couch, the combination of the movie’s soft soundtrack and Lando’s steady breathing lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

Lando noticed when your head gently rested against his shoulder, your breathing deep and even. He smiled softly, careful not to move and disturb you. As the credits began to roll, he glanced at his watch and realized it was getting late. Reluctantly, he decided it was time to leave.

He gently shifted, trying to move without waking you. Before he got up, he couldn’t resist the urge to lean in and press a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment. It was an instinctive gesture, filled with affection that he hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.

Carefully, he adjusted the blanket to ensure you were snug and warm. He stood up quietly, casting one last fond look at you before making his way to the door. Lando left silently, closing the door with a soft click, leaving you to your dreams.

An hour later, Isaac retreated from his bedroom, finding you fast asleep on the couch. Instead of waking you, he went to the kitchen and fetched your evening medicine and a glass of water. Returning to the living room, he placed them gently on the table beside the couch, ensuring they’d be the first things you saw when you woke up.

Isaac stood there for a moment, watching you sleep peacefully. Despite the argument earlier, he understood your desire to live fully, even if it scared him. With a sigh, he retreated back to his room, hoping that you’d find a balance between living your life and taking care of yourself. The quiet house seemed to settle around your sleeping form, a brief moment of peace amidst the whirlwind of emotions and challenges.

Taglist: @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @mehrmonga @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @sya-skies @dreamingonbed @oliviah-25 @heylookwhoitis @unabashedkoalawasteland @inejghafawifesblog @poppyflower-22 @charizznorizz @booksandflowrs @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @randomnessis-mine-me @whatever7justchillin @kagome45 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @timmy-wife1 @writtenbykirs @lew444 @kansas-kisses @barackosteaa @hellof-1 @itsbwokenln4 @nixily @reengard @candyeollies @customsbyjcg-blog @heeseungthel0ml @sweate-r-weathe-r

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Here, have a casual glimpse into my thought patterns and creative process:

*just scrolling about Tumblr and vibing to "Too Much Wine" by The Fratellis*

Too much wine?

Mihawk?

Mihawk drunk??

Wait wait wait WAIT what are they all like drunk?

GASP s h i n y h e a d c a n o n s

BLANK DOCUMENT HERE I FCKEN COME—

So anyway here's some headcanons about drinking too much (insert adult beverage of choice) with the OPLA boyos.

Implied that Reader is already in a relationship with each character in question.

I shall call it.......

HAMMERED

OPLA!Zoro, Sanji, Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy X AFAB!Reader

NSFW Headcanons

Kinda Kinktober I guess? Borderline shitpost, I had way too much fun with this.

♫♬♫ Too Much Wine - The Fratellis ♫♬♫

I'll take the mead from the table

Talk straight while I'm able

Until I'm nothin' less than a crime

Zoro

"Y'know, I actually have four swords, but we're gonna have to go somewhere more private if you wanna see the other one."

Rum, sake, beer, wine, whatever you're down for drinking so is he.

Zoro's got incredibly high endurance and stamina—it's going to take a while for him to show that it's affecting him at all, but once it does, he goes from zero to one hundred faster than you can say "onigiri."

Literally no in between, no tipsy or buzzed. Just sober and then stumbling over his own feet and swearing he absolutely is not drunk the whole time.

All those repressed emotions that he hides behind a mask of dry sarcasm on a day to day basis are coming out in full effect.

That means you're getting one of two Zoros—goofy Zoro or sad Zoro.

Goofy Zoro's going to have his arm around your shoulders, laughing his ass off about that time he caught that idiot Marine brat swinging his sword around bare-ass naked so he chopped off half his hair.

He's likely to get pretty flirty in this state, even downright playful, especially if you initiate it, and it's almost definitely going to end in him dragging you somewhere private to fuck your brains out, because his restraint is totally out the window at this point.

If you end up with sad Zoro, he'll be laying his head in your lap and slurringly asking whether or not you think he's ever really going to be the best swordsman in the world, probably still beating himself up over losing to Mihawk.

Just comb your fingers through his hair and do your best to reassure him that you love him and genuinely believe in him. Whether it works or not, he's going ti end up falling asleep in your lap, so be prepared to be stuck there for a while.

"But like...you really think, like, I can beat that bird-eyed bastard? I mean he fucked me up with a goddamn butterknife."

Sanji

"There we are—a beautiful drink for a beautiful woman."

Turbo Flirt Mode: activated.

Sanji is all for pairing wine with food, but if you're looking to get a little sideways, he's going to want to show off his mixology skills to impress you—and he's going to be making some dangerous concoctions, the kind that taste like there's not a drop of booze in them.

The more lit he gets, the less subtle the flirting. If you thought he was clingy sober, you are in for a surprise, because that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Head on your shoulder, puppy dog eyes, telling you how pretty you are and how much he adores you every thirty seconds, with a big silly grin like you're the most amazing thing he's ever seen.

Brushing his lips along your neck and murmuring all the things he's going to do to you once the two of you are behind closed doors later—and he means every one of them, because you're utterly irresistible to him in this state.

He wants you giggling and blushing just as much as he wants you moaning and trembling under his touch.

Super playful once you are alone, even moreso than usual. He's definitely going to suggest doing body shots, he will beg if he has to, but honestly who in their right mind is going to turn him down?

"You're just...just so—so beautiful—honestly, it should be illegal."

Shanks

"Hold—hold my rum—no, no, just for a moment, I wanna see if I can do a backflip off the railing—"

Spoiler alert: he can't. Now he's lying on the quarterdeck alternating between hysterical laughter and "Oh God that hurt—"

Probably the most fun drunk in the world, but he can be a hazard to his own health as his judgement begins to lapse so someone's going to have to keep an eye on him.

If you're at a tavern or otherwise public location, do not under any circumstances let the man out of your sight for more than two seconds. He turns into a straight-up child, he can and will wander off, and you'll find him a mile away on top of a building, likely half-naked and singing sea shanties at the top of his lungs, with no clue as to how he got up there...or how to get back down.

He's developed quite a high tolerance over the years and tends mostly toward dark rum, though he won't turn down a stein of ale or beer.

Total life of the party energy—telling jokes and stories, he just wants to see everyone laughing and having the absolute best time.

Super, super flirty, he may as well have written the book on pick-up lines; and he doesn't care that you're already together, he's going to drop every single one of them on you just to see how much he can make you giggle or roll your eyes.

He's very likely to pull you onto his lap at some point and make out with you like no one's watching—he already doesn't really care who sees when you're both sober, but he really doesn't care after a little too much rum, so it's probably best to coax him to bed at this point.

He's perfectly happy with cuddling up, laying his head on your chest and draping his arm over you, just humming in contentment and falling asleep together...but if you want more, don't expect to get much sleep, because he wants you lasciviously.

To taste every inch of you, to suffocate between your thighs until you're screaming, to pull you onto his cock and watch you ride him until you're both too breathless and exhausted to do anything but tangle yourselves together in the sheets and drift off to sleep between slow, sensual kisses.

"Oh, princess, just when I catch my breath, you make me lose it all over again."

Mihawk

"If you insist on being such a brat about this, you're going to get what's coming to you."

Mihawk has a strong drive to be in total control of himself and everything happening around him at all times, which means he doesn't tend toward getting drunk.

But...he also has this wee little problem with his ego being larger than the entire volume of every combined ocean in the world. If you imply that you could drink him under the table...he's probably going to sneer and tell you to quit being a brat, but he's also going to be quite driven to prove you wrong.

He does love his wine, but it's generally only a glass or two to wind down and relax—he's definitely got a nice bottle of aged bourbon or eau de vie tucked away somewhere that's going to be coming out, because he's got something to prove now.

Unfortunately for him, due to the fact that he so rarely drinks heavily...he's a bit of a lightweight. Which he won't admit even to himself.

But it barely takes a single lowball of harder liquor to get that pale complexion of his a little flushed.

Perhaps just over three for him to start blinking a bit harder than normal in a futile attempt to get his vision to focus, to start speaking a bit slower to attempt to hide the slight slur in his words as you taunt him about it—which honestly only makes it more pronounced, and more amusing.

You had best enjoy it, because it's probably the only time you're going to hear the words, "Fine, you win," come out of his mouth—as well as perhaps the only time he won't be miffed about conceding. The alcohol in his system has him loosened up just enough that he can't pretend he doesn't find your boldness and sass at least a bit endearing...and even more alluring.

That being said, you're still getting punished for it, teased within an inch of your sanity, and he's going to enjoy every single second of it.

Setting his glass aside, plucking yours from your hand, pinning your hands above your head with a devilish smirk and slowly undressing you, his eyes on yours the entire time.

Trailing his fingertips across your bare skin, drawing closer and closer but never quite giving you want you want, his lips barely brushing against your neck, reminding you in an amused murmur in your ear that he could easily do this all night.

You did have the audacity to challenge him, after all—he has no choice but to remind you who's in charge.

"What is it, my little bird? Did you think you were going to get a consolation prize? You're still going to have to beg."

Buggy

"Bet you two thousand Berries I can shotgun two beers at once, watch this—"

And he basically ends up halfway drowning himself, but hey, you're two thousand Berries richer!

Honestly, there's no party like a Buggy party, because a Buggy party doesn't stop until someone loses a limb—probably him.

No, really. Don't let him use his devil fruit abilities. Keep a bucket of sea water on hand if you have to, because he may literally misplace one of his limbs and you're going to have to go on a Chop Chop Scavenger Hunt to help him find it while you're both completely smashed.

If Buggy's drinking, everybody's drinking, and everybody is getting completely fucked up. This is non-negotiable, he thrives on chaos and that's what he's intent on creating.

Anybody who passes out before him is getting something obscene drawn on their face in permanent ink. He can definitely hold his liquor, so if you can keep up with him then you can expect to be the last two living souls left conscious on the whole ship.

That being said, he doesn't care who's awake—things are going to get kinky, and he's really not bothered about anybody watching. Or joining in, for that matter. This whole operation very well may devolve into a drunken orgy if he has any say in the matter.

Then again, it may also devolve into him flopping dramatically across your lap and divulging absolutely all of his trauma in an emotionally-charged alcohol-induced rant. He won't remember it in the morning, so please do him a favor and don't remind him.

"Hey, uhh...I los—I lost my foot again. .....Sor—*hiccup* sorry."

[yngtort]

— puppy love

chan | lino | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin

NSFW ★

──────────

Xfem!reader : In which both you and seungmin are too shy to talk about sex, but too horny to keep your hands off each other. (Cute lil birthday post for my dear friend @sydnerss love you squid!)

Sex isn’t the most important thing in a relationship.

No, it’s communication.

Which is something both you and seungmin had stressed since the moment you got together. So why— why couldn’t you two just communicate about sex?

It seems like every time either of you wanted to fuck, you can never voice it. The most you did was lay down silent hints.

You’d walk around in the tiniest little shorts that show off your fluffy ass and thick thighs. Meanwhile, he’s wearing his joggers as low as possible, subtle vline being showed off like the piece of art it is.

You both won’t say a thing tho.

It’s til he’s grabbing you by the waist and pulling down to his lap, when you know he’s painfully hard. Dick pressing up against your ass as he looks up at expectantly, hoping you’d also take the hint.

At first you blamed on the fact that your relationship was relatively new. You both are quite shy anyways, it took you a while to even confess your romantic feelings for each-other.

— so being upfront about the sexual ones would be even harder.

just wanted to be respectful, dispute the absolutely disrespectful things y’all wanted to do.

And that’s why you’re stuck on the phone with him, ache in your core, listening to him hang out with his friends.

It’s been hours since the call started, something about seungmin missing your voice led y’all into spend your whole day together virtually. It’s a cute sentiment until youre scrolling through tumblr, landing on a post that has one of your hands slapped over your mouth, while the other is digging into your shorts.

It didn’t help how attractive seungmin sounds right now. Joking around with his crew with an edge in his voice that you hadn’t heard before. Your AirPods were turned up to an embarrassingly high volume.

You bite back a desperate whimper as your fingers just barely brush the deepest part of you. That spot where only seungmin could reach.

It’s a bit scandalous to be doing this, you admit. But you can’t help it when it’s been so long since you’ve gotten your back blown out.

If only you had the courage to tell him about how badly you needed him to fuck you into your pillows. But you dont.

Instead you’ll just quietly slut yourself out his voice. pathetically rolling your thumb on your clit as you chase after orgasm that just keeps slipping away.

you’re close- so so close—

“Y/n? You still there?” Seungmin called making your movements stutter. “Y/n?”

Damn it.

“Mhm, still here.” You say quickly. But there’s a slight shake in your voice that makes your boyfriends ears perk.

“You okay? You sound like you’re crying.”

“ ‘mm not.” Oh but you’re about to. Your body was begging for some kind of relief and whatever you were doing was not enough. Fingers all cramped up inside of you as try to keep on pumping.

“You sure? Do you need me to come over?”

Yes. Yes. Yes.

“No, I’m fine.” you mentally punch yourself as you hear seungmin hum, telling you to let him know if anything changes. But it won’t, you’re sure of it.

He goes back to playing around with his friends and you do the same, but with yourself.

Fingers weren’t cutting it anymore though, You needed something stronger. your legs swung over the bed, heading over to your dresser.

Where did you put it?

You rummage through your clothes until you’re pulling out pink little vibrator, shaped to resemble a rose. It’s been so long since you used it, is it even charged?

But you don’t have time worry about that, you’re too busy trying rid yourself of the knot in your stomach.

When you’re back on your bed, you quickly mute your mic— not without making an excuse to seungmin that you’re gonna play some music and that you didn’t want to disturb him with it.

In reality, it was because of how loud the said toy was despite what the packaging said when you got it. The Rose made a shit eating wiring sound as you placed on your clit.

But damn, it’s effective.

Soft moans floated off your lips and into the cold air of your room. You imagined that it was your boyfriend between your legs, licking and sucking as he pinned your hips down to the mattress.

your legs would curl over his sharp shoulders, while your hands latched onto a tuft of his brown locks. in your mind, you can practically see the intense look he’d be giving you. Dick probably throbbing in his pants as he eats you up.

you were completely wrapped up in your own fantasy, eyes stung with tears as your orgasm started to creep in finally. With your free hand, you dip those fingers inside of you, pressing upwards and just can’t help but cry out.

“Minnie, please. Need you so bad..” You whined, legs shaking immensely.

“If you needed me so bad, you should’ve just asked.”

You paused. No, everything had paused.

The rose went dead. Your heart stop beating. and your orgasm never came.

“I thought-“ you grabbed your phone, wide eyed because the mute button was untouched. “Oh my gosh, your friends didn’t hear me did they??”

“And if they did?” He rasped, “it’s not like you cared. Acting like a mutt in heat.”

Little did you know, seungmin didn’t even give them the chance. as soon as he sensed something was up with you— he was out the door. by the time he was on your street, you were moaning into the phone. he had to try not to swerve and hit a trash can, it was a mess.

“Seungmin…”

“Just come open the door.”

-

Everything happens in flash after you open that door.

You’re swept off your feet and forced into a desperate kiss. Seungmins nipping, biting, and sucking on your lips as he navigates through the house and into your room.

“you’re such a tease.” he says against your mouth, “you did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“No, seung. I didn’t mean to-“ your words are cut off, being dropped on the bed knocked the wind out of your lungs.

“Fucking liar,” seungmin cursed, dark eyes glaring down at you. “You’re always doing this. putting yourself on display just to get my attention even though you already have it.”

He’s so right, you hate it— but it’s true. You had gotten so desperate and messy, when all you had to do was speak up.

“Did you have fun fucking on that weak toy of yours? Was it better than me? Hmm?” He asked, hovering over you. You gasp, feeling his fingers slide up your thighs and onto your core. His fingers pressed into the wet patch on your thin pajama shorts and seungmin has to hold back a scoff.

“I guess not.” He chuckled, rubbing you through the cloth until his fingers are drenched.

“s-seungmin,” you call and your boyfriend raised a brow.

“What? gonna beg like the needy lil pup you are?” He mocked, “go on then. Speak.”

A waterfall off of pleas leave your mouth in an instant. It was like seungmin a flipped a little switch in your mind, making you spill every dirty thought you had of him earlier.

You just wanted him buried between your thighs, helping your relieve the tightness in your gut after being edged all day. “Please, please, please Minnie. Needa’ cum so bad.”

a satisfied grin stretches across his face as he hear your demands.

“How could I possibly say no when you’re this cute?” He says before traveling down your body, leaving behind kisses until he’s face to face with your heat.

Without a thought, he slides your shorts to the side and latches his mouth onto your sore clit. Tongue lapping over the sensitive bud, making your back arch in pleasure.

Fuck, this was just what you needed. You’re rolling your hips against his face in such a shameless way— but did you care? No. All you cared about is getting your long awaited release.

it sneaks up on you, making you choke out a loud cry as your orgasm washes over you. seugmin has to dig his nails into your thighs, trying to keep your legs from closing up on him.

“Seungmin, s-stop.. t-that’s enough.” You sob, but your boyfriend doesn’t listen. He just continues to eat you out, amused as he watched you writhing in his hold from overstimulation.

a second wave of ecstasy hits, harder than the last and seungmin finally lets you free. “You’re so good for me, look how much you came.” He teased, wiping his face clean from your wetness.

“It’s your fault.” You huff, chest rising and falling.

“Guilty as charged” seungmin laughed, before leaning down and hauling you into another kiss. It’s a lazy and sloppy one, letting you get a taste of yourself.

your hands travel down to his torso, fingers tracing his soft features until you’re buried into the fabric of his boxers.

“Fuck, y/n. Just like that.” Seugmin hisses at your cold palm wrapping around his hard length. you pump him, hand moving with easy thanks to the precum that leaked from his shaft.

“Seung,” you breathe out, looking him in the eyes. “fuck me and Make it hurt.”

“Bossy lil pup.”

In a matter of second seungmin flips you over onto all fours, pressing your face into the comforter.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He says from behind, tip diving into your entrance. You whine out loudly as you suck up every inch.

His thrusts are mad and wild, nails sunk into your hips and dick hitting your gspot every. Single. Time. The room is flooded with the sound of his hips meeting yours and the bed screaming under you.

“Yes yes yes, fuck me like that.” you cry out, only fueling the man inside you more.

“you like my dick that much?” He asked, snapping his hips harder. “You’re clenching so hard like it’s yours.”

“Mine.. want it so bad.” you splutter out.

“Then take it, baby.”

It’s not long before you’re both moaning mess, muscles tensing as you feel your high course through you. seungmin dips down, pressing his face into your nape as he milks himself. His load fills you until there’s a little bulge in your belly and it only deflates when he pulls out.

He slumps over to the side of you and wraps an arm around your waist, bringing you to his chest.

“Now, i think it’s time we have a little chat about our communication skills.”

“Seungmin…. I can’t even think right now.”

:)

[mytheoristavenue]

Thinking about how Incel!Gytaro difers from your other boyfriends sexually.

I feel like once he's finally given a chance, he clings to the title of incel, even if he's no longer involuntarily celibate, and his mindset is changing. It's part of how he identifies himself and it'll take a long time of building his confidence to get him to stop self deprecating.

"Why would you wanna fuck me? I'm just a gross incel, girls down even touch me." While you are in fact, touching him. "Y-Yeah, cum all over this ugly mug," While you're riding his face, tugging his hair and helplessly grinding.

I also feel like getting to his early twenties without even a kiss or shred of attention has left him lacking two things when you finally do give him a chance. Tolerance for any kind of stimulation, and a refractory period. He has neither, and if he does, they're both incredibly low. This means he'll cum as soon as he starts to move inside you, but he doesn't really have to stop between orgasms. Despite his lifestyle, I think he's actually a bit of a gym rat, so he also has a good amount of stamina. He's going at it for hours and he's cumming multiple times, each load is going to be bigger than the last, already being larger than most guys you've been with.

"A-Ah, n-no, baby, be still- gonna! F-Fuck, I came again, I'm sorry..." While he's already cooling back down and putting it back in.

He's so inexperienced but he's so eager to learn. He has no idea how to kiss you, but once you show him how, he's all over it. He's a great listener, despite his stubbornness, obsessing over your every reaction and trying to figure out what he did to instigate it.

"Shit, what'd I do? This? You like it here? Like this? Ahh, that's it baby, you got it." While trying to decipher what he could have possibly done to pull such a pretty moan from your lips.

I think he's down to try anything at least once, especially after you get him away from that red pilled mindset. Pegging? Well, let's talk about it first. Taboo kinks? Send him links, he's so curious. The only thing I can see him really not being into is cucking, but he might come around if you letting him cuck someone else first.

"Fuck, you're into some weird shit..." While scrolling through your followed tags on Tumblr. " Well... shit, I'm down, let's go."

[eetherealgoddess]

Hihi

Could you do a fic where reader is like a driver 4 bonten and something comes up so she has to like pick (u cld do all or chose one it doesn't matter) them up then some smut, noncon and fem reader.

Thx in advance if you'll write this, I've been searching for a writer that does noncon🥲

Hope you enjoy this! Also hope you don’t mind about a little mxm between the men in it! Also dark ending!!

Also I’m thinking of making an au where the guys are poly with each other and the reader is added to it or walks in on it or something idk yet but lmk in the comments or requests what you think about that.

ꨄBonten’s Propertyꨄ

Part Two

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au

❦You pick up your boss and fellow executives from the club❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Bonten’s Property

“Why do I have to pick them up from the club?” You whine, giving Kokonoi a disturbed look as you stare at his sitting figure, focusing on the laptop in front of him.

“You were specifically requested tonight.” He continues to type as you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, but not by our boss. All the guys are gonna do is terrorize me while I’m trying to drive.” You cross your arms as you rest on one leg, hip poking out as you shake your head.

“Boss is with them currently so I assume he relayed the message.” You groan. “You better get going so you don’t anger him.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know Koko.” You finally walk away, snatching the keys as you make your way out of the shared penthouse, heading to the car and unlocking the door before hopping in.

You’re not usually one to pick up the men from the club considering how wild they get, usually only Kakucho or Takeomi could handle the ride, though when you do, you’re usually efficient. Even when Sanzu messes with the wheel or Kazutora tickles your neck to distract you. Even when Ran blows smoke in your face or when Rin pours alcohol on you. Mikey’s not with them usually, so you have no idea how that’s going to be, hopefully he stays a little professional considering you’ve never seen him drunk or high.

Worse comes to worse you can use the partition to divide the front seats from the back which is what you’ve done before. Still, who wants to drive a bunch of drunk or high idiots around? Hopefully they’re not too rowdy, they’ve never been bad enough to prevent you from driving all of you home at a good time. You sigh as you pull up in front of the large club, nodding at the security guard to signal your arrival for Bonten. He nods back before walking into the doors.

You scroll on your phone, waiting for what felt like an hour before you heard the car’s doors opening. Laughter and slurred speech could be heard as the men entered the car, your body tensing into professionalism when you see your boss through the rearview mirror enter, tightening your grip on the wheel. Sanzu sits in the passenger seat with a pink face, eyeing you before smirking. You ignore him as you double check that everyone is situated before driving off.

You ignore their conversations, Kazutora, Sanzu, and the Haitani brothers conversing about the women, drugs, and alcohol all the while Mikey eyes the window a dazed look on his expression as well as a warm face. One of your eyebrows raise as you find humor in your boss's look, unknown to whether he was high or drunk though definitely not sober. You continue the drive peacefully in your own zone as you eye the dark road.

“Y/n, why didn’t you come to party?” Kazutora questions with a smile.

“I don’t ‘party’ like you guys.”

“I think we should’ve hired you as a stripper rather than an executive.” Ran says, his eyes slightly narrowing as he smirks in your direction.

“Yeah, I would’ve paid to see you on stage any day.” Rin adds as he eyes your expression from the side.

Of course, you made a mistake in thinking that they might not fuck with you during this ride considering their boss is here. You ignore their remarks as you continue to drive. Your grip clenches around the wheel once more when you feel a poke against your side.

“Heyy! You’re being spoken to.” Sanzu says as he glares at you.

“Yeah don’t ignore us!” Kazutora whines playfully, poking you until you flinch, using one of your hands to swatt him away. You grit your teeth as you feel a cold liquid running down your thigh, glancing over to see Rin pouring his bottle once more as he chuckles and Ran smiles wider, finding humor in torturing you.

“Goddamnit!” You hiss as you snatch the open bottle and throw it out of the window.

“Awe you’re no fun.” Rin frowns, leaning back into his seat with crossed arms. Ran passes the recently lit blunt you hadn’t even noticed to Sanzu who breathed in a huge wad of smoke just to blow it in your face, slightly blocking your vision as you wave it away.

You continue to ignore them considering what they want is a response, so you drive down the road. You don’t notice the way your boss eyes the situation with amusement as well as staring at you through the mirror, warmth from the drug Sanzu gave him invading all of his senses as his face turns darker, heavy eyes shifting around the car.

“Want some, boss?” Kazutora questions Mikey, handing him the blunt as he takes it from him, breathing in a huge hit before blowing it out slowly. They all praise their boss as he relaxes in his seat. You slightly chuckle before focusing your attention back on the road. You just couldn’t help but find humor in your boss’s laid back behavior for once.

“Here.” He leans over to hand it to you, though you only glance at the flower.

“Oh boss, you can keep it, I don’t smoke.” Honestly, you’re lying because you like smoking. You just don’t want to be high around them or behind the wheel.

“Take it.”

“I can’t smoke behind the wheel.” You say sheepishly.

“Pull over.” Your eyes widen. What the hell?

“B-boss, that’s not necessary.”

“Are you defying the King?” Sanzu growls, narrowing his eyes.

“What? N-no, I just…”

“Then why aren’t you listening?” Kazutora questions.

“Boss clearly gave you an order.” Rin says as his brother eyes you.

All of this over a fucking blunt? What's gotten into them?

“Boss, I’m not disrespecting you, I just thought you wanted to get home! I can smoke in the penthouse if anything.”

“Pull over, now.” You didn’t hesitate to find an empty spot to pull over in, parking the car once you reached it with a shaky hand.

This is so weird.

You take the blunt from Mikey’s hand and put it to your lips, inhaling a little before blowing out.

“More.” You look at your boss from the rearview mirror with confusion.

“I still have to drive, I don’t think I should smoke…”

The barrel of a gun to your head causes you to quiet down, eyeing Sanzu who’s holding the weapon.

“What was that?” Ran teases. “Could you repeat what you just said?”

You glare at them before setting it back to your lips, inhaling deeply before you blow out a huge cloud of smoke, tears forming in your eyes as the burning sensation overtakes your throat.

I don’t understand why they’re making such a big deal out of this.

“Since you can’t drive you should sit in the back seat.” Kazutora says with a fake concerned expression.

“I was ordered to be the driver so I’ll be okay. None of you can drive, anyway.”

“No, it’s alright. Come here.” Following your boss’s order, you reluctantly open the door, hopping out of the driver's seat before opening the back door, blunt still in hand.

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassment as you climb in, feeling the intense gazes as you settle into your seat squished in between Mikey and Kazutora who don’t bother to move over, the Haitani brothers having already shifted to the empty seats across from you as well as Sanzu who sits beside the siblings, gun hidden. You squirm awkwardly into your seat as you inhale the leaf once more. Holding the smoke in as a hand on your chin forces you to turn to your right.

“Blow into my mouth.” You try to move your head from Kazutora’s hand, the burning sensation catching up to you, forcing you to blow in his direction, his mouth slightly open as he sucks in the air, his lips barely grazing yours.

This is definitely too intimate. What drugs did they take because marijuana doesn’t do this.

The air feels suffocating as warmth builds, gazes becoming heated as your eyebrows furrow. Suddenly, the hand on your chin moves to the back of your head as your lips are forced to meet with Kazutora’s. Your eyes widen as your hands immediately push against his chest, his hold stronger as he keeps you in place, golden eyes staring into your orbs. Biting his lip only caused a moan from him as he leaned into you, the metallic taste mixing in with mary jane and alcohol.

When he finally releases you, because you were still shoving away from him, you accidentally land on your boss’s chest. Immediate fear causes you to sit up, though you were stopped by arms wrapping around your waist, your head resting against his shoulder, positioned in between the leg that's propped on the seat and the other one on the ground as he leans against the door. Kazutora grabs the blunt from you as he takes a hit from it.

“B-boss?” You question as his hands slowly roam up your blouse, your face heated as the warmth of his hands rests on your breasts that are covered by your bra. “W-wait! Mi- boss! Stop!”

“Are you telling me what to do?” His breath causes tingles down your neck as his lips meet your ear.

“Two times in a row, not a good look for you, Y/n.” Ran says, ignoring his erection under his pants.

“Wait, I just need some air or something! I need to be okay to drive!” Your chest rises and falls as Mikey squeezes your breasts, your hands grabbing his wrists to pull them off though his strength is firm, even when intoxicated.

“You’re not being a very good executive, Y/n. So disobedient.” Rin taunts before he grabs one of your ankles, removing your shoe as well as Kazutora doing the same with your other after handing Ran the wood. You attempt to pull your legs back, forgetting how you are the weakest amongst these men. Sanzu moves to the floor board next to the upper half of your body as Ran moves to the lower, unbuckling your pants as you struggle against Mikey’s hold, blunt in his lips.

“Y-yeah I’m telling all of you to stop! This isn’t profession-!” You’re cut off by Sanzu’s lips, his hand cupping your face as Mikey’s tongue slithers against your ear. Saliva falls down your chin as your hand reaches to push against Sanzu’s chest while the Haitani brothers and Kazutora pull down your pants, revealing your panties. Your eyes become wider as you start kicking your legs, whimpering against Sanzu’s mouth as you try to break free only for Kazutora and Rin to hold your legs apart as Ran uses a finger to trail down your slit through the fabric before he hands the leaf to his brother.

One of Sanzu’s hands pulls your blouse over your chest before he moves back to pull it off, Mikey helping in the process as he holds your arms still.

“Guys! You’re too intoxicated! St-stop, now!”

Rin’s lips trail down your leg, rubbing your thigh in the process while the blunt lies in between his index and middle finger. Kazutora mimics, though removing your sock before he licks your foot, a tingling sensation going up your spine.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” Mikey whispers against your ear, unclipping your bra before he forces it off of you, of course you make it harder by preventing the handles from being removed from your arms. He tears them, throwing your bra to the side as one of his arms circle around your waist while the other hand reaches your nipple. Sanzu grabs the other mound in his hand before he lowers his head, eyeing you through heavy lids, his lips circling around your nub as you frantically try to move.

Ran lowers his head as he uses a finger to move your panties to the side.

“As pretty as I’d thought it’d be.” He says before he uses both hands to pull them down, Rin grabs them as he throws them to the side before handing Sanzu the blunt. Ran analyzes your pussy with a sly smile, using a finger to gather the slight slick that’s formed before sucking his finger and releasing a quiet moan.

“Stop touching me!” You exclaim, everything becoming overwhelming as your boss and coworkers roam your body, Sanzu pulling your nipple as he takes another hit.

“Relax.” He says before placing it against your lips. You move your head away before he roughly grabs your chin and forces you to face him.

“Smoke it.” He demands. You blatantly shake your head.

“No! No more of that or any of this!” You hiss as you move up once more, only for you to let out a high pitched scream of pain once Sanzu places the burning wood against your arm. Tears fall from the pain as your face becomes hot. Your other hand grips the arm that was just burnt. You shakily wipe away the residue ash left on your skin.

“Say that again.” He says before placing the blunt against your mouth. You inhale before holding it in and blowing out once more. He wipes the sweat off your forehead as he keeps it against your mouth, you having to inhale more before breathing the smoke out again, mellowing out although your heart continues to race.

Your body jolts as you feel a wet muscle slithering against your clit. Ran’s tongue flicks your nub before his lips close around, sucking as he slightly bobs his head. Kazutora sucks his fingers before sliding his hand down, bending over as he uses two fingers to ease into your wet pussy. Your hole clenches around his fingers as your hips twitch, biting your lip as you hold back from releasing any sound as your eyes shut tightly.

Suddenly, hands grab your hips as you're pushed up, legs hovering over your head as your body is bent. The wetness moves to your ass as his tongue glides against your anus.

“Hah! Not there! Stop it, please!” Tears fall in humiliation as he eats you out, Rin positioning himself to eat your pussy as Kazutora angles his fingers, gliding in and out slowly as he holds pressure to your g-spot before pulling out again, watching your pussy contract intensely. A tongue runs along your clit repeatedly flicking the nub before he sucks it. Sanzu and Mikey hold up your legs as they kiss and lick your neck before leaving hickeys and pinching the skin between their teeth, Mikey handing Sanzu the roach before he throws it out of the cracked window, returning his hand to your nipple.

As Kazutora accelerates his fingers, your hips slightly meet his hand as the brothers eat you out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head with your mouth slightly ajar, head falling back on Mikey’s shoulder.

“Ran.”

“Yes boss?”

“Pull out my cock.” He complies, pulling Mikey’s sweats down as well as his underwear, revealing his hard girth. You tense once you feel his head against your ass.

“W-wait, Mikey there’s no lube. Please don’t!”

“My King, I can help.” He says with a dazed look.

Mikey eyes him for a second before he nods his head, Sanzu and Ran switching placements as Ran settles next to her upper body and Sanzu moves to Mikey’s throbbing cock. A groan leaves Mikey’s lips, brushing against your ear as Sanzu lowers his head, lips circling around Mikey’s tip before shoving his cock deep within his throat.

You feel your boss’s hips jerk as his head falls back against the car’s window. Another moan leaves his mouth as you hear the mixture of saliva and precum combining as Sanzu pulls his head back and forth steadily, making sure to wet his king’s cock to the fullest.

“Knew he’d be eager to suck Mikey’s cock.” Rin whispers against your pussy as Kazutora and Ran chuckle at his statement. Sanzu pulls his head back and uses his hand to angle Mikey’s cock against your anus. Your body is forced to drop on his thick cock, tears escaping as the pain shoots up your back.

“Fuck!” You cry out, “Take it out! Take it out, you fucking assholes!” Kazutora removes his fingers as Rin pulls back, sitting in their seats as they pull out their own hard cocks, using spit to rub themselves off. Once Mikey’s cock was stuffed all the way into your ass, he held it there as he basked in your warmth. Sanzu hovers over you as he uses his own spit to wet himself. You jolt when his head meets your pussy lips.

Your hands grip Sanzu’s shoulders as he eases into your pussy, fortunately the juice that was already there makes it less painful, though your hole clenched around his girth as you're full from both sides.

“Relax your muscles.” Ran whispers in your ear as his own hand wraps around his cock, while the other caresses your head.

“I can’t! It hurts!” You exclaim as your eyes shut tightly. Your head falls back once more, Ran leaving a kiss along your jaw.

“Yes you can. Just breathe.” You had no choice but to comply as you tried to get through the pain, breathing heavily as Sanzu and Mikey began to move slowly. A drawn out moan escapes Sanzu as the pressure from Mikey’s cock could be felt through your walls, causing extra friction.

Time passed and their hips began to accelerate, the car filling with five men’s moans as all of them thrust their hips, pulsating cocks engulfed in warmth. Sanzu’s cock, angled to hit your g-spot, causes an intense pleasure that contrasts with the lingering pain from Mikey’s cock stretching your ass. The agony numbing out as you begin to fill a pleasurable fullness as your body rocks up and down, nails piercing through Sanzu’s fabric. You grunt as your ass clenches around Mikey’s cock, barely holding back a moan as the friction causes you to near your orgasm.

“Tell me how good it feels.” Mikey hissed against your ear, hand reaching around your throat as he slams his hips against your ass, speeding up.

“It doesn’t!” You cry out. “I-it feels terrible! Get out of me!” A loud moan accidentally leaves your mouth when Sanzu’s pace becomes faster, ambushing your g-spot repeatedly. A sharp pinch against your nipple causes you to yelp.

“Lie again.” Mikey growls, “Tell me the truth or I’ll blow your brains out as soon as I cum.”

“Fuck, this is so hot.” Kazutora hissed as his head falls back, rubbing his cock violently as his erection pulsates in his grip. Rin bites his own lip as he thrusts his hand, rubbing a thumb over his slit as he watches the display.

“Come on, angel. Be good for us, yeah?” Ran breathlessly says as he brings himself closer, hand gripping your head as he ruts against his other hand.

Your body convulses, warmth overcoming your abdomen as your hips grind hard against the two cocks, head back as your mouth hangs open with a silent scream.

“F-fuck! I’m… ah! Cumming!”

“Shit!” Rin hissed as his hand moves faster, your voice turning all of them on as they continue to work for their own orgasm.

You cry out from Mikey and Sanzu continuing their assault, thrusts becoming sloppier as they cause you to overstimulate, your hips frantically grinding back as the feeling becomes all too overwhelming, nose scrunching as your nails scratch Sanzu.

“Say it now! Tell us how good it feels to be full of our cocks! Right now, Y/n!” Sanzu growls, pink hue covering his face as he gazes into your eyes with a lustful, crazed glare.

“Feels good! S’ fucking good, hah! I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum again!”

In reality, post nut clarity will definitely come soon considering how violated you truly feel, though the feeling of being so full and your g-spot being abused causes your body to react, pussy contracting as you’re brought to your second orgasm, the men following along right after as they all release their loads.

You feel Sanzu and Mikey’s cum shoot deeply inside of you, so much coming out as some of the liquid spills out of your ass and pussy.

“Y-you all violated me.” You growl in anger as tears spill from your eyes, cocks pulling out of you causing you to grunt from the residue pain.

“You liked it.” Kazutora frowns as your vision becomes blurry.

“You should rest. Sounds like the weed is getting to your head.” Rin snorts.

Before you could prevent it, your eyes fluttered shut, darkness engulfing you into a deep sleep.

The next day, the men sat in the meeting room, awaiting your arrival. When you didn’t show up, Kakucho went to check your room, only to find you balled up in the blankets on your bed, hiding your whole body.

“Y/n?”

When you didn’t answer, he walked out of the room back towards the meeting to relay the message. The meeting continued without you. When it was over, Kazutora visited your room.

“Y/n? Why are you acting like this?” He says as he sits on the bed next to your figure. His eyebrow raises when his hand reaches your form, squeezing it before he stands up and snatches the blankets back, revealing an empty space.

“Shit!” He hissed in anger.

Two years pass and you just got out of your therapy appointment, walking to your car before you hopped in and drove to your apartment. You knew that the only way you could leave Bonten was by death or running away. So you decided to make a new life for yourself in a different country, far away from Japan.

You knew the job was toxic anyway but you didn’t know that you’d be violated sexually. You’re in a better head space, though you do have moments where you can feel the hands all over you, not scrubbing your body hard enough as your skin raws. Your new boyfriend, along with your friends and therapist have helped you grow positively as you slowly let your past go.

Entering your apartment, you expect to see your boyfriend in the living room on video games, not his limbs detached from his torso, or head decapitated as it’s rolled in between someone’s feet. Nor did you expect to see blood all over your carpet as well as the frames and paintings broken, thrown off the walls, glass shards everywhere. Your trembling hand covers your mouth as you eye the five men you never wanted to see again, staring at you with cold stoic expressions, worse than any angry look you could’ve ever received.

Hyperventilating, you turn on your heel to run back out your front door, only to run into Takeomi’s chest.

“No, no, no! Let me out, Takeomi! You don’t know what they did to me!” Your fists hit his back as he swings you over his shoulder.

“Oh I know. Now they’re pussy whipped and can’t get over you. Not even boss. You’re lucky you’re not gonna be killed, but there’s no way we’re letting you out of our sight again. Consider yourself, Bonten’s property.” He says as he walks to the car.

You continue struggling in his grip as tears leave from your eyes, crying out in anger and devastation over your boyfriend’s gruesome death. The life you created for yourself being torn from your grasp as another thing important is snatched away. You mourn your lost freedom as well as what’s to come.

[silverryuan]

Divus Crewel with the Kid from Don't Whack Your Teacher

Strictly Platonic. Also, I just realized that hearts aren't gonna stop Tumblr from deleting some of my posts.

Warnings: Heavy Violence, Swearing, IF YOU'VE HEARD OF THIS GAME I SWEAR NO ONE'S GONNA DIE.

• Let's just say that you got enrolled here by your parents or escorted by the Ebony Carriage. Either way, you're gonna be here for the rest of the school years :)!

• You'll be 13 years old here. Everyone was surprised by how young you are and underestimated you, especially Savanaclaw students, but they backed off after you gave them the impression of not to treat you like a child. How? We'll see...

• Crewel's first impression of you was normal, at first. He sees that you're a very quiet pup and always mind your own business. However, he doesn't like how your attention is always glued to your phone... You're just like that Shroud pup. Because of that, he would always remind the class to put away their gadgets before starting the lesson.

{Alchemy Classroom}

Ace: "Pssst! Crewel's walking over here!"

Kid! Yuu: "😶!"

Deuce: "Kid! Yuu, please put your phone away!"

• One time, he saw you looking at your phone during one of his pop quizzes and and got infuriated. He walked up to you and tapped your shoulder with his pointer stick. You put your game on pause to look up.

Kid! Yuu: "...Huh?"

Crewel: "And look what we have here..."

• He snatched the phone before you could even hide it. He hold up the phone in the air and glared at you.

Crewel: "I will be confiscating this for a week."

Kid! Yuu: "😡"

Crewel: "That look won't work on me, young pup. Focus on the quiz!"

Kid! Yuu: *grumbles*

Ace: "I warned ya."

• You couldn't stand a week without your phone. After today's classes, you told Grim to go home without you and you head straight to the faculty room to recover your confiscated gadget. You knocked on the door and one of the staff ghosts answered. You ask the ghost if you could see Professor Crewel and ask him about an assignment. The ghost let you in and guided you to his office.

Staff Ghost, knocks at the door: "Mr. Crewel?"

Crewel: "Yes?"

Staff Ghost: "A student wants to see you."

Crewel: "Oh? Come in then."

Staff Ghost: "He said you can come in. I'll be off now."

Kid! Yuu: "Thanks...."

Staff Ghost: "Don't mention it, kid."

{Crewel's Office}

• You opened the door and stepped inside the office. Crewel was writing away at his desk, recording scores from the students' quiz papers. He raised his head and his brows furrowed at you.

Crewel: "Ah... Young pup. I was about to ask someone to fetch you. Sit down, we need to talk."

Kid! Yuu, sits down: "......"

• Crewel started searching his desk drawers. The room was silent, only the sound of the wall clock ticking and the flipping of papers. You analyzed the room, it's much cleaner than the average teacher's office. There are shelves containing bottles, books, and scrolls. A coat rack for holding Crewel's fur coat but the man is still wearing it. His desk has papers stacked up (most likely Crowley gave him extra paperwork), a couple of pens, a stapler, a trashcan on the side, and of course, the chairs you and him are sitting on.

Crewel: "Hmmm... Where is it?... Ah, here it is."

• Crewel pulled out a file and scanned through it. He sets the file down on the desk, pointing at the paper.

Crewel: "Pup, while I've been recording your scores, I'm disappointed that you scored lowest out of everyone. It was a 50 item test, yet you scored none."

Kid! Yuu: "...."

Crewel: "I don't understand this. Do you even value your grades? You're a prodigy, correct? You should be smarter than this... You must pay more attention to class lessons. When the master orders that you listen, you must listen. If you won't, you'll be dropped out, have I made myself clear, pup?."

Kid! Yuu: ".................."

Crewel: "Speak up."

Kid! Yuu: "..............................."

Crewel: "*sigh*, fine. If this is about your phone, I won't be returning it for a week. And looking at your score, I'll be extending the confiscation."

• Now this is one of the aspect of yours that Crewel does not like. You are too quiet. But for a quiet person your actions are very loud, considering the amount of Savanaclaw students terrified of your wrath. Crowley insisted that the faculty should turn a blind eye from your rudeness and keeping you here just because he doesn't want to deal with the Overblots. Grim's presence around you doesn't help either.

Crewel: "If you want to me to give you a second chance, I'll give you limited time to study and memorize all the magic elements and potions for this semester. Afterwards, come to my office again and I will provide a do-over sheet of the quiz, understand pup?"

Kid! Yuu: "........yes."

Crewel: "Speak up."

Kid! Yuu: "....yes."

Crewel: "It's "Yes, Professor Crewel.""

Kid! Yuu: "Ugh....Yes, Professor Crewel..."

Crewel: "... I know that you are younger than the average student, but pup, you must act like a decent adult so that everyone won't treat you like you're a bratty mutt. You're lucky that you're a child otherwise I would be far stricter. But that doesn't mean I'll turn a blind eye for you during my lectures. Now if you don't have any more questions, you are dismissed."

• You stood and take your bag, excited that you'll be leaving Crewel's boring scolding. You turn the door handle but Crewel stopped you...

Crewel: "Stay, pup!"

Kid! Yuu: "!!!"

Crewel: "What in the..."

• Crewel scanned through the file again and read another paper. It says...

"Due to Kid! Yuu's violent behavior and tendencies, they will be expelled from Elementary School. The undeniable evidence of their expulsion relating to the case of the assaulted and murdered teacher which ultimately resulted to them being the suspect as the fingerprints of the weapon matches theirs. However, the suspect escaped the arrest, including their parents. Until now, the police department still have no lead to where the suspect is hiding. If you have any contact with the suspect, please report immediately to the authorities."

Crewel: "....Pup, explain thi--"

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

• If Crewel hadn't raised his head for 5 seconds, his head would have been skewered by his own coat rack. He dodged the attack, making sure that the distance between you and him won't let you go near him, and pulled out his magical pointer at the ready. Angered by Crewel's quick reflexes, you dropped the rack and equipped the chair. You chased him around the room, trying to find an opening from his defensive attacks.

Crewel: "PUP, PUT THE CHAIR DOWN OR I'LL BE FORCED TO TAKE DRASTIC MEASURES."

Kid! Yuu: "......!"

• Despite your assault, Crewel took precaution in casting minor damage and restraining spells to not heavily injure you for you are still but a child. You got tired of chasing him around so you climbed up his desk and equipped the wall clock.

Crewel: "I WILL NOT SAY IT AGAIN. PUT. YOUR. WEAPON. DOWN!!"

Kid! Yuu: "...YAH!"

• You threw the wall clock towards Crewel like a frisbee but he summoned a shield before it could hit his right knee. You even more became more agitated and more aggressive. This time you equipped his pens and charged at the man. Crewel counterattacks your makeshift stabbing tools but he was too slow to counter the half-shattered potion bottle and you stabbed him with the pointed shards.

Crewel: "!!!"

Kid! Yuu: "...pant...pant..."

• Drops of red dripped to the floor. You looked up at his face, expecting to see his pained expression, but you stepped back after seeing the shock twisted into the angered face of a devil. His fur coat was thick so you didn't stab him that deep. The man stared at his ruined coat and back to you with almost murderous intentions.

Crewel: "...Why you little mutt..."

Kid! Yuu: "!!"

• Looks like your punching and kicking won't do anything as the man grabbed you by the collar and shouted for the Security Ghosts.

Crewel: "LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO MY COAT! My beautiful coat... RUINED! TORN BY YOUR FILTHY LITTLE PAWS! THAT'S IT!!! I'M TEACHING YOU PROPER DISCIPLINE!! GUARDS!!! CROWLEY!!!"

• The loud volume from the man made you cover your ears. You then feel Crewel moving and slamming your body onto a chair and summoned leather belts around your arms. You struggled breaking through the belts to the point of trying to bite it off. Crowley and the guards arrived, their jaws agape seeing Divus' damaged office.

Ghost Guard A: "W-what happened here, sir?"

Ghost Guard B: "Did someone attack you?"

Crowley: "Divus! What is--"

Crewel: "CROWLEY."

Crowley: "...gulp...y-yes..?"

Crewel: "I CAN NO LONGER TOLERATE YOUR IGNORANCE ANYMORE! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW YOUR SO-CALLED CHILD PRODIGY BEHAVED?! LIKE A DOG WITH RABIES!!"

Crowley: "W-well now, Crewel, I think you're overexaggerating-"

Crewel: "THEIR REPORT CARD DOES NOT CONTAIN A SINGLE DIGIT, THEIR BEHAVIOR IS IMPULSIVELY UNFORGIVABLE, THEY TURNED MY OFFICE UPSIDE DOWN, THEY RUINED MY COAT, AND NOW, THEY EVEN TRIED TO KILL ME!!!"

Crowley: "Oh Sevens! That must explain the mess. Your office does look like a tornado flew in here."

Crewel: "EXPEL THEM IMMEDIATELY."

Crowley: "What? No! I beg your pardon, Crewel. But I won't-"

Crewel, shoves the file to Crowley: "HAVE YOU SEEN THEIR FILES? THAT CHILD IS A FUCKING MURDERER! YOU'RE OUT OF YOUR MIND IF YOU INSIST ON KEEPING THEM DESPITE THEM HAVING CRIMINAL RECORD. IF YOU WON'T HAND THEM OVER TO THE POLICE, THEN I WILL."

Crowley: "WAIT! CREWEL! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!"

Crewel: "I AM BLEEDING, YOU DUMBASS! I'M GOING TO THE INFIRMARY, OF COURSE!!"

Ghost Guards: "Looks like the file checks out. Kid's an actual killer."

Ghost Guard B: "Oh welp. Sorry kid, but you're gonna have to come with us."

Kid! Yuu: "😮‍💨..."

• After Crewel patches up his stab wound, he dragged you by the ear and ordered Crowley to call for the Ebony Carriage to send you to the police department. They also made sure to accompany you with a Ghost Guard to make sure you won't try anything and explain to the authorities about what you've done. Crewel finally exhaled a sigh of relief... He can't believe he almost got murdered! Attempted by a child no less!

Grim: "H-hey! Who the heck are you people?! Where are you taking my henchman?!"

Ghost Guard A: "We're arresting them."

Ramshackle Ghosts: "WHAT?!"

Grim: "Fnyaagh! Give them back!! Kid! Yuu!!!"

• Crewel gave Crowley an earful back at the faculty room, much for Mozus' delight since he also cannot stand your rude behavior. Vargas will miss a capable and athletic student like you but he also felt annoyed by your ignorance. Grim was in the hands of ADeuce since you're not by his side anymore, the feline tried to convince ADeuce that he doesn't miss you and failed. Sam is not that involved in your student life, so he was surprised that a student like you had the audacity to assault a faculty staff. The only times that you and Sam interacted was when you bought candies from his store. He could tell that you're constantly in a bad mood and the other NRC students are not helping that, Sam remembers trying to cheer you up a couple of times by sneaking a few more candies for free, the image of your childish smile still fresh in his mind. He felt bad when he heard from Crewel about your expulsion, but it's for the best.................. That's what they all thought.

• Turns out that the Ebony Carriage sent you back! How or why did it happen? Even the Dark Mirror doesn't know. Crewel, still pissed off, decided to call the police in front of the gates. They took you but the carriage always send you back. Every. Single. Time... Crowley insisted that you must stay since the Ebony Carriage sees potential in you. What even kind of potential is that? You're practically more hostile than Floyd, for seven sakes! After trying and failing to arrest you too many times, Crewel got exhausted and stopped. Grim was happy that you're back and kept bawling that you left him.

Grim: "Fnaa... Fnyaaah! Henchman, you're back! You better buy me tuna cans for leaving me for so long!"

Crowley: "Aha! You see, Mr. Crewel? They do have potential to do better, wouldn't you say? The Ebony Carriage escorting them back is proof of that."

Crewel: "Potential to be what? A serial killer?"

Crowley: "No! I mean- the potential to be a student here in NRC. I am certainly sure that if you give them a second chance they won't do it again. Right, Kid! Yuu?"

Kid! Yuu: *nods yes*

Crowley: "Aaand... because of how generous I am, I will overlook your criminal record in your file for as long as they behave!"

Crewel: "They act like that once more, Crowley, and I will file a lawsuit against you."

Crowley: "Why don't we make a wager? If Kid! Yuu behaves for more than 6 months, they'll stay. If they cannot do that, then you can expel them and hand them over to the police."

Sam: "Hey Vargas, why don't we make a bet of our own?"

Vargas: "Hmm...Depends. Who are you betting on?"

Sam: "I'll bet that Kid! Yuu lasts here for 7 months, you'll help me lift the crates at the shop for a week?"

Vargas: "Then I'll bet that Kid! Yuu lasts for 4 months, you'll give me a sack of protein powder for free?"

Sam: "You're on."

Trein: "sigh...Idiots."

Crewel: "... Alright, fine. Have it YOUR way, but I will not be sparing you from learning discipline from me. You will be fixing my office and clean it. Why in Twisted Wonderland did even you attack me in the first place?"

Kid! Yuu: "...cuz... I don't want any more of my stuff...to get confiscated by you..."

Crewel: "......... Seriously? All this damage for a phone?! Pup, can't you see that violence only makes things worse?"

Kid! Yuu: ".... I'm sorry...for... y'know..."

Crewel: "Hm? Speak clearly!"

Kid! Yuu: "...I'm sorry... About the damage to your office... And I'm sorry about trying to kill you... I'm sorry."

Crewel: "Good. Now pick up those cleaning materials and get to work!"

• So in the end, you atoned for the shitty things you did. Crewel made you promise that you won't fight with other students, especially Savanaclaw students. You started to use honorifics toward your elders too, Trein was pleased. Due to Crewel's training of manners and Trein's training of etiquette, you became more of a decent student, albeit, still a little murderous. Sam was happy to see you shopping in his shop again.

• However, the staff can tell that you've developed a habit of being... difficult sometimes. The training and extra lessons didn't make your sociopathic tendencies go down but it appears less now. Crewel has learned that Vargas' reflex lessons helped to avoid stationery projectiles you throw once in a while during his class. You mostly do that in an act of showing frustration from the multiple tasks he's given the class.

{Alchemy Classroom}

Crewel: "This 17th century potion was brewed by the Graystone family and was usually used to increase their children's appetite so that their intake of food will be normal and they'll become healthy in later years... So for today's assignment, I'll be grouping the students in this class into 4 and each group must have a presentation according to the steps of brewing the exact potion. The deadline is due tomorrow on 5:00pm--"

!!!!!

Ace: "W-WHAT THE-- Who threw a ruler at the professor?!"

Deuce: "Th-they almost stabbed the back of his head!"

• The class was startled by the sound of something sharp being thrown and dug into the blackboard just a few inches beside Crewel's head. The man only tilted his head a bit before the ruler could get even a strand of his hair (all thanks to Coach Vargas). Crewel calmly turned around with a stern expression and glared at your direction.

Crewel: "No, pup. I will not extend the deadline.

Kid! Yuu, raising a pencil: "......"

Crewel: "And no, your empty threats will not force me to group you with Spade and Trappola. Now go to your group!"

Kid! Yuu, drops the pencil: *grumbles*

• The students fell silent as you grumbled back into your seat. Half of the students assumed that you have gotten violent enough to no longer make Crewel panic but made him rather annoyed by it. Ace and Deuce sat beside you, the ginger-haired boy grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you while the Blue-haired boy rambled on and on about how dangerous your stunt was.

Ace: "What the hell, Kid! Yuu?! I can't tell if that was horrific or badass but don't EVER do that again! The Savanaclaw students are bad enough, seriously, does your stupidity know no bounds?!"

Deuce: "You should be ashamed of yourself. W-what if your parents will be disappointed? I know you're a little younger than us but we're still classmates. We can't meet you if you go to jail! Who will feed Grim?!"

Ace: "Yeah! We really don't wanna deal with him again!"

Grim: "HEY, I'M RIGHT HERE!"

Crewel: "SILENCE, PUPS! MINIMIZE YOUR VOICES!"

• You drowned out their voices by doodling lines on your paper since your phone was still confiscated. You just nodded to their ramblings and contemplated on not doing it again for your sake. That said, you think you'll stop by Sam's to buy Grim tuna.

• Also, Sam won the bet.

[conceptualsolitude]

Hi!!! I saw that you made a new post and I just wanted to say that you were one of the first people I followed many years ago when I made this blog and reading through all your words (I would scroll all the way to the bottom to your first post, like every other night before sleeping) got me through some rough times in high school and probably changed the trajectory of, like, who I am. It’s been a while since I went through this blog but I remember I had some of your art as my phone cases for years, and I still have them in a box somewhere (they used to hang on my wall when not on my phone) just because I was so into all that you did. I will have to scroll and find it, but one of your posts, it was something about Tomorrow, and Not Being Afraid, and though I can’t recall the exact words, I remember one night specially where I was so close to quitting a lot of things, because I could not handle the pressure of being around people or doing things or generally existing, and I read that before I went to bed and I remember it felt like seeing brand new colors bloom in my pitch black bedroom, like some kind of explosion of the mind (in a good way). And I repeated the words to myself as I fell asleep, and then when I got up before the sun I still spoke them, all the way until I got to what I was dreading and started my day. And that day was different, this is where it gets murky, but I remember that that day was so different, because I was different. And things just got Better for me after that. Like I said it’s been a while since I went through this blog, but I would check in some times the past couple years wondering if you posted again, and even if you don’t want to come back fully it was really nice to see your words again on my dash :) I think tomorrow afternoon ill scroll and try to get to the bottom of your blog like I used to (I can’t do it now, it’s kinda late for me and I try to get good sleep these days instead of scrolling tumblr all night like I used to haha). Anyway if you see this or read this no pressure to reply I’m not really expecting one, I just wanted to tell you, thank you.

this msg has been in my inbox for over a year and i was gonna keep it there but i think i'd like to share... it makes me very very happy and like this did all mean something good... thank you for being on this journey with me... it has meant a lot to me over the years and i think about it often

[cripplecharacters]

do you happen to know of any tumblrs that do what you do, but for other... types(?) of people? i'm struggling to find an active LGBT writing guide blog specifically at the moment but it'd be nice to have a masterlist of any blog of this variety, since tumblr's search is remissfully unhelpful..! tysm

Hi lovely asker!

So there used to be a whole lot of blogs that were labeled "Scriptx" blogs and of course others too. Good thing is a lot of them were archived! So while they're not open for new questions you can still use the search and use the information provided to other asks they answered. So I'm gonna tag the other active blogs or the ones that are just on hiatus and then I'm gonna link all the archived ones!

Active:

@yourbookcouldbegayer

@scriptlgbt

@fuckyeahasexual

@writingquestionsanswered

@scriptmedic

@blindbeta

@askablindperson

@writingwithcolor

@creatingblackcharacters

@howtofightwrite

@script-a-world

@scriptstructure

Not active/Archived:

scriptservicedogs-blog

actuallyservicedogs

scriptshrink

scripttorture

scriptveterinarian

scriptautistic

asexualadvice

scripttraumasurvivors

scriptpharmacist-blog

scriptpolitics

scriptpublishingindustry

scriptfirefighter

writenavy

scriptwitchcraft

scripthacker

scriptcriminaljustice

scriptgenetics

scriptflorist

scriptlawyer-blog

scriptastronomer

scriptchemist

scriptmyth

scriptspoonie

scriptkink

scriptequestrian-blog

scriptsocialwork

scriptbrainscientist

fantasticallyfactualforensics

scriptaccountant

scriptballerina

scripthistory

scriptlibrarian

scripteconomist

scripteducator

scriptlinguist-blog

I briefly scrolled through a few of these that I personally wasn't aware of but I can't vet and scroll through each and every individual blog in its entirety because well it would take a very very long time. Also of the active blogs some don't have their ask box open and/or some are on small hiatus'. Please be respectful of that, pretty please, everyone puts in a lot of time and effort and yeah.

~ Mod Virus 🌸