#it just felt right to combine these two masterpieces

[pintrestgrl]

hi guyssysysysysysysys i missed y’all. i’m aware im awful at posting but send requests pls !!!

also know that i write for slytherin boys too !! like blaise, theo, mattheo, etc !!

i’m trying to post more but patience i beg im js a girl 😪

crybaby!reader x bsf!jj maybank.

“you too pretty to be cryin’. ”

jj said, as you sat horizontally on the couch, legs thrown over his lap.

your mascara was long gone, spilled all over your cheeks.

you had a date, you really did. but, you got stood up. he never came to pick you up.

so now, you found yourself at your bestfriends house as you cried, and he comforted you.

he sat with you as long as you wanted, wiping your tears and playing with you hair.

“he’s dumb to stand you up. you look beautiful.”

you heard his words, but in that moment you felt the complete opposite.

“why’d he stand me up, jay? i was so excited.”

he rolled his eyes, subtly snaking a hand up a little too high on your thigh.

“he stood you up cause he’s stupid. like, brain dead.”

you sighed, still so upset. you’d even broken out the new perfume jj bought you for the date!

he spoke again.

“c’mon. i’ll make you forget about it, pretty.”

you nodded, sitting up slowly.

wiping your red, tear ridden eyes.

he took you in his lap fully,

manhandling you by your waist to make you straddle him.

he tugged your pouty bottom lip,

lightly tapping your chin with two long fingers.

it wasn’t long before he convinced you that you just needed to take your clothes off.

he told you it was just to help you relax.

calm down.

so you did.

he was your best friend, of course you’d listen to him. right?

he massaged your tits, the pretty soft flesh.

convinced you it was just to make you relax, ease your nerves.

it wasn’t long before he had his thick cock buried to the hilt inside you.

he just wanted to take your mind off the date.

right?

he had you mindlessly babbling, as you bounced on him.

thanking him, for being your best friend. for always helping you.

he guided your hips, helping you get off.

kissing away the tears that escaped your pretty eyes,

as you were too cock drunk to speak.

you came around his dick, biting down onto the flesh of his shoulder as he hit the spot inside you that made you see stars.

you felt every vein against your walls, so aware of him inside you.

he came short after, breathing heavily against your pretty tits.

he pulled out, watching the mixture of cum seep out of your aching hole.

smirking at the sight.

spitting onto the cum covered sight infront of him, adding to his masterpiece. running the pad of his thumb through the fluids, watching them combine.

laughing at you.

he just wanted to help.

right?

right.

[the-lazyyy-artist]

Roommates Wanted! fem!reader x o. aiku x s. ryusei x i. sae introduction

summary: a front desk officer, a professor, an MMA instructor, and an editor walked into a room... what do you get?

tags and themes: roommates au, first meetings, slight crack, very ooc, soccer doesn't exist here

author's note: just a little peek of my take on the roommate au. Also, shoutout to @cheralith for inspiring me with her own fic series - apartment 345. Check that out, it's a fucking masterpiece!!

Check out the Masterlist!!

Divider from @uzmacchiato

For Rent

4-Bedroom Apartment, 1 Bath

Please Call: xxxx-xxxx-xx

Address: XXXXXX

You look at the posting on your phone as you stand at the apartment building in front of you. You have always wanted to rent out an apartment, anyway. And to have roommates? That’s something you’ve always wanted to experience. Living alone in a sad hotel room for 2 years has stunted your ability to see the sun and socialize. So this is a good option.

Upon entering, you were greeted by a small lobby. Well, it wasn’t much of a lobby anyway. There was a small desk manned by a teenage boy, around 17, you assumed. You smiled at him and asked him about the posting. “Ah, you’re here for it too?” He asked, smiling widely. “That makes two of you, then.”

“Two?” you asked, and he gestured to a gentleman sitting on the plush bench across the room. He waved at you, and you waved back, a little shy. “You can sign here first.” The boy handed you a logbook, and you signed your name and your purpose of visit. “My aunt will be here in a while. Have a seat.” And sit, you did. You gave a few inches of space between you and the shaggy-haired man, and you started to look around the interior of the small lobby. “Here for the posting?” He asked, his voice deep and smooth. “Yeah,” you replied, your eyes falling to meet his… his heterochromic ones. Wow, you thought. It was the first time you saw eyes like this up close. He must’ve noticed because a lazy grin graced his lips. “You work in a hotel… Y/N?”

“What?” you asked, confused as to how he guessed your name right. He then gestured to the name plate on the left side of your chest, with the hotel’s logo and your name engraved on it. You scoffed lightly and moved to remove it, something you usually do when you leave work. “Ah, yeah,” you laughed awkwardly. “You?”

“Middle school teacher,” He replied with an air of coolness in his demeanor. No wonder he felt like someone you could easily approach. “Wanna guess what subject?”

“Uh,” you bit your bottom lip as you read him. You pride yourself at being pretty good at this. “Science.” The man chuckled, eyes crinkling at the sides. “No, no. But kinda close. I teach Health and Sex Ed.” You raised your brows at him, and before you could ask, he spoke again. “It’s an interesting subject. And I want to be the one to teach young minds about their bodies and how they work before anyone gives them the wrong idea.”

You nodded, understanding. Pretty passionate, you thought. Just then, footsteps can be heard descending the stairs, and a lady, probably around her 50s, approached you and the man. “Oh, our applicants,” she chimed. “Come, you two. Let me give you a tour of the room.”

The room was on the fourth floor, and by the time you reached the top, your legs were jelly. Stiletto heels and stairs aren’t a good combination, and add the fact that you had a hard shift that day. The lady unlocked the room, and you and the man entered. It was bare for now, but what really made your heart feel at home was the amount of sunlight that streamed through the windows. Airflow was wonderful too. The man moved further into the room and found himself in the kitchen. You heard him hum as he looked around the cupboards, as if thinking about what items to put in them. “The four bedrooms are down the hall, all facing each other. You can check the rooms,” the lady said, prompting you to go further.

You and the man took turns checking the rooms, and you had already decided which one would be yours. “So?” The man asked. “Already decided?”

“What?”

“I’m clearly liking the place, Y/N.”

“You… want to rent this place with me?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Roommates.”

You looked at him for a moment and hummed. “Yeah, sure. That could work. All we have to do is look for the last two to rent the rooms.”

In the end, the apartment was officially yours and…

“What’s your name, by the way?” You asked the man as you walked out of the apartment building. “You already know mine, so I should at least know yours now that we’re going to be roommates.” The man smiled at you and showed you his ID instead.

Oliver Aiku.

You moved in immediately since your time is quite limited. Aiku moved that weekend. You also made sure to discuss the boundaries and rules that the apartment should have with Aiku, and he understood. You put him in charge of looking for roommates, as you sent him the design you made on a whim to attract applicants.

“Didn’t know you were a graphic designer too,” he joked, sitting at the dinner table with you. You sat across him, and you kicked his leg under the table. He let out an “ow” as you laughed. “I did my best, professor,” you replied. “You know how busy we get at the hotel.” You heard him laugh softly as he examined the design you made, zooming in on it on his phone. “No need to remind me, babe.”

You had it posted on your social media accounts and online forums, hoping someone would pick it up.

For a while, no calls came in. And it was just Aiku and you. You didn’t mind. Aiku was a warm presence in the apartment, always so mindful of you, especially during the days when you’d come home at 2 in the morning. He’d always save you a plate of dinner, waiting in the fridge for you to reheat and eat.

Eventually, that peace will be disrupted.

It was a cool Saturday morning, and you just left for your afternoon shift. Aiku had already finished grading his students’ essay papers last night, and he had all the free time that day, so he decided to visit the gym nearby. He read somewhere that this gym was pretty popular and offered one-on-one classes for MMA fighting and Judo. Upon arriving, he asked the front desk if the classes accept walk-ins. Lucky for him, it did, and it just happened that the MMA schedule for that hour was open.

Aiku approached the instructor and was amused by his appearance. Tanned skin, lean muscles, blonde hair with pink tips, styled up and spikey. Aiku wondered if the eyeliner on his eyes was just no-budge eyeliner that he applied every day or tattoos, because they still looked clean on his face.

“Yo,” the blonde called out. “You here for the class?” Aiku nodded, dropping his gym bag on the nearby bench. “Yeah. Figured I'd try this out for once.”

“So, a beginner? That should be easy. Name’s Shidou.”

“Aiku, man. Nice to meet ya.”

Shidou was professional, handling Aiku in every drill they did. Shidou was surprised Aiku was able to hold up after the drills, even when he decided to “take it up a notch”, which Aiku was okay with. “Damn, you’re the only one I had today that was able to keep up. Do you usually work out?” Shidou asked as he attempted to tackle Aiku. “Nah,” Aiku grunted. “I don’t have the time sometimes. I’d say it’s the genes.” Shidou barked a laugh as he finally took Aiku down.

As the two were cooling down, Aiku spoke up. “Hey, man. I know this is gonna be weird, but do you know anyone who’s looking for a place to rent?” Shidou frowned at him, confused. “Huh?”

Aiku chuckled as he breathed out. “My roommate and I are looking for two more people to rent out the empty rooms in our apartment. Would be nice to have more people in there.” Shidou groaned, cracking his neck. “Yeah? Where’s it located?” Aiku was quick to grab his phone and show the posting. “Hm, interesting,” Shidou murmured. “Can you send this to me?”

“Yeah, sure.”

That night, at around 10:30 PM, there was a knock on the door. Aiku was alone at the apartment, and he knew it wasn’t you. He knows you have a key of your own, so a visitor at this time was odd for him. He quickly dried his hands before he opened the door to see…

“Shidou?” He asked. “Hey, man.”

They clapped hands, and Shidou grinned at him, baring. “I’m here for the room.”

“You… You’ll rent out one of the rooms?” Aiku asked, a little dumbfounded. Shidou shrugged and replied, “Been looking for a place anyway. You came with an offer, and I’m here to check it out.”

“Alright.” Aiku stepped aside and let Shidou walk inside the apartment unit. He watched as Shidou’s magenta eyes scanned the living room, dining area, and kitchen. “Good place you got here,” he whistled low. Aiku laughed softly, nodding. “Well, the princess and I did all we could to make it homey.”

“Princess? You got a girl for a roommate?” Shidou asked, brow raised. Aiku walked towards him and slung an arm around the blonde’s shoulder. “Yeah. Kinda strict, but she does her best. She should be home in a few.”

Aiku led Shidou to the empty rooms for him to choose which room he’d want, and he chose the one beside yours. Aiku asked him again if he was sure, and Shidou said that he was deadass. So, Aiku quickly briefed him on the boundaries and rules you had laid out, and Shidou was cool with it. Just before Shidou could leave, the doorknob jiggled and the door opened. “I’m home,” you sighed, your head lowered as you kicked your stilettos off. “Fucking hard shift, again.” You dropped your keys on the bowl near the door, and when you raised your eyes to meet Aiku’s, you were instead met with electric pink eyes. You straightened and smiled at him, the way you do when you’re at work. “Oh, hi!” you chimed. “Friend of yours, Aiku?”

Aiku opened his mouth to reply, but Shidou cut him off. “I’m your new roommate. Shidou, by the way,” he said smugly, holding out his hand for you to shake. You reluctantly did, and he gripped your hand a little tighter. “Can’t wait to move in here next week. Thanks Aiku and…” His eyes narrowed, and he grinned. “Y/N.”

Your brows furrowed, and you looked down at your chest. There, your nameplate, still attached to your uniform. “Sure, sure.. See you, Shidou.”

Once Shidou left and the door was locked, you were quick to slap Aiku’s arm. He laughed it off as he rubbed his skin. “Aiku! He’s loud!” You whisper-yelled, and Aiku laughed even more. “Oh, come on. We need the noise. And he’s gonna pay rent and contribute, like you said in the agreement.” You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose and stared at Aiku like he adopted a puppy without asking. “What does he do, anyway?”

“A trainer at the gym. A damn good one, too. I met him there today because I took his class.”

“Okay, no more people from the gym. Please.”

Days now become louder with Shidou around. He greets everyone with a good morning way too loudly, sometimes waking you up way too early for work. Aiku had to scold Shidou a few times before Shidou learned when to be loud and not (just in days when you had to deal with your graveyard shifts at the hotel). As time went on, you learned how to appreciate Shidou’s personality as it added a few more colors to the comfortable home you and Aiku started to build first. He was a nice addition to the apartment.

The next month, there was another knock on the door. “You gonna get that?” Shidou said as he drank his protein shake. Aiku, busy with the meal prep for the day, shrugged. “You sure it’s not yours?” He asked Shidou. The blonde quickly shook his head. “Come on, when did I bring someone here? Or invite someone over?” Aiku laughed. “Alright, you gremlin.”

Aiku dried his hands before he opened the door. Standing outside was the most polished man they had seen so far. Suit pressed, neat and plain necktie, and a briefcase in his hand. His eyes were ocean blue, cold and still. His hair, auburn and styled neatly… kind of. “Uh, can I help you?” Aiku asked. He leaned on the doorframe as he watched the man fish for his phone in his pocket. “I’m here for this,” he spoke, his voice calm and cool. He showed Aiku the posting for the room, and Aiku was taken aback. “Really?”

The man nodded and sighed. “Look, I’m just interested in this posting and what the room looks like. It also sounded promising.”

Aiku stepped aside and let the man in, closing the door behind. Shidou grinned and approached him. “Shidou Ryusei,” he said. “Sae.”

“No last name?” Shidou teased, to which Sae sighed. “I have my reasons for not sharing my last name, Shidou.” The blonde raised his hands as he feigned surrender. “Alright, no need to be cold.”

Aiku gave Shidou the look, and he just shrugged. “I’m Oliver Aiku, by the way. Just call me Aiku.” Sae nodded and looked around. Aiku was glad he was able to convince Shidou to clean up, otherwise, the unexpected guest would turn his heels and out the door. Sae ran his hand on the couch that you and Aiku bought second-hand, his eyes scanning the living room. He hummed, as if he was satisfied with it. They watched Sae slowly navigate the dining area as Shidou walked to Aiku, just to whisper, “I bet pretty boy will have a lot of demands.” Aiku nudged his chest as Shidou huffed in pain. Just when Sae found himself in the kitchen area, eyeing the meal Aiku was preparing, a bedroom door opened. “Morning,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes. Sae focused on you for a moment, a small smile appearing on his face. He was a little relieved that the third person was a girl.

“Y/N,” Aiku called out, “We have a visitor.”

You were met by this polished man, way too polished. You knew immediately he was here for the last spare room, so you fixed yourself quickly, the way that you always do. “Hi,” you chimed, your service industry voice floating. You saw the man’s brows shoot up as yours shot up in return. “Are you here for the room?” Sae nodded, and you were quick to lead him to the said room, the boys watching you be you. “She always does this,” Shidou murmured, “always so polite.”

“Well, that’s her. It’s actually cute. Just let her work her magic,” Aiku said.

When you and Sae stepped out of the room, the boys had a feeling that their little group of four was finally complete. You discussed the boundaries and rules with Sae, and Sae agreed to all. “I’ll move in next week,” he said calmly before he stepped out of the apartment. “Great!” you chimed, your voice reaching a pitch the others never heard. “We’ll see you soon… uhm… Sorry, I didn’t catch your name the whole time.”

“It’s okay. It’s Sae. Itoshi Sae.”

As soon as the door closed, the three of you looked at each other. “So?” You asked the boys. Shidou shrugged and grinned. “He looks like he’s out of place, Y/N. Gotta be honest with you.” You broke your posture and sighed, knowing Shidou was correct. “But he’s so neat. I like him.” Aiku pouted and leaned on you. “But babe, we’re also neat.”

“Yeah, when I ask you guys to clean up.”

“Well, I guess we’re already complete. You think Sae’s gonna work well with us here? He looks like a real quiet guy,” Aiku said.

“You mean judgmental. I don’t like the way his eyes scanned over me like I’m a freak.”

You laughed and patted Shidou’s arm. “Well, you’re our freak.”

“You mean that, sweetheart?”

“Shut up,” you laughed.

“Did you catch his last name? Itoshi… Wait a damn minute.”

On that same day, you three discovered that your fourth roommate was rich enough to buy you, your careers, and the whole damn apartment building if he wanted to.

[ghosty-zero]

Sonadow one shot number #3: The Art of Self Anointing

Shadow stepped into Sonic's house for the first time and immediately wanted to turn around and leave. He was a perfectionist when it came to cleaning, but the sight before him was a chaotic mess. "How do you even find anything in here?" he grumbled under his breath, glancing around at the piles of tech manuals and video game cartridges scattered across the floor, sidestepping a pile of dirty laundry.

Sonic seemed unfazed by the disarray, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he dashed to the kitchen. "Want a chili dog?" he called over his shoulder.

"You invite me over to this...this...," Shadow searched for the right word, his gloved hands balling into fists at his sides. "Pigsty? Just to eat a disgusting combination of meat and bread?"

Sonic gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "My house isn't that bad!" He glanced around, his eyes darting over the mess as if seeing it for the first time. "Besides, a little bit of chaos keeps things interesting, right?"

"I can't believe...how do you even function?" Shadow murmured, shaking his head as he followed Sonic into the kitchen. The counters were littered with half-eaten snacks and half-finished projects, a few pizza boxes and a couple of forgotten cans of soda adding to the chaos.

"I must be a miracle."

"Must be." Shadow grumbled.

He knew he should have declined when Sonic invited him over, but he really had nothing better to do with his time. If Rouge hadn't been busy with another heist and Omega wasn't stuck in maintenance mode, maybe he wouldn't have found himself in this predicament. Sonic had seemed pressed for company anyway, what with Blaze and Amy on a shopping trip, Tails tinkering in his lonesome, and Knuckles... well, doing Knuckles things. So, the two hedgehogs were the only company available.

But looking around at the mess, Shadow felt a strong sense of discomfort, like a knot tightening in his stomach. The clutter was greatly different from his own meticulously organized space, where everything had its place and his mind could work without distraction. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the smell of stale food and the occasional whiff of something that might have once been a forgotten science experiment.

Sonic, after making his beloved chili dog into a masterpiece of culinary disaster, turned to face Shadow with a proud smile. "Ta-da!" He exclaimed, holding up the greasy plate.

Shadow stared at it. "You actually eat this?"

"Every day, baby! Try a bite," Sonic said, holding out the chili dog. "You know you want to."

"I'd rather not clog my arteries with that," Shadow said flatly, eyeing the chili dog.

"Oh, and plain black coffee beans are so much healthier than this," Sonic quipped.

"In a way, it is," Shadow said, eyeing the chili dog with a mix of skepticism and curiosity. He had seen Sonic's diet before and was surprised the blue hedgehog had the energy to outrun a bullet train. "But I need to keep my reflexes sharp. Can't be slowed down by...whatever that is."

"A hot dog smothered in chili isn't going to slow me down!" Sonic exclaimed, taking a massive bite, his cheeks bulging with the food. He chewed with a grin, watching Shadow with a twinkle in his eye, daring him to try it.

Shadow wrinkled his nose in disgust before turning with a huff, snatching dirty plates and garbage off the counter. "If I am to be in this house, it needs to be clean. At least for my own sanity."

"It's not that bad. Besides, it's lived-in," Sonic said with his mouth full, waving the half-eaten chili dog. He took another bite, watching as Shadow began to methodically clear the kitchen. The clank of pans and the scraping of plates filled the air as the brooding hedgehog worked, his movements precise and efficient. He didn't ask Sonic where things went, he didn't ask him for help, nor did he complain—he just did it. Without even asking Sonic to move, Shadow had the kitchen clean in a matter of minutes.

"Dang...oh, that's where that went," Sonic mumbled, peering under a pile of newspapers to find his favorite mug.

Shadow moved onto the living room, his eyes scanning the chaos before him. The couch was buried under a mountain of cushions and blankets, a show of Sonic's love for naps and marathon video game sessions. The coffee table was a minefield of empty soda cans and game controllers, and the TV screen was smudged with fingerprints. "You're going to regret inviting me over," he muttered, grabbing a trash bag and starting to pick up.

Sonic just watched, almost too afraid to try and help, lest he mess up Shadow's rhythm. He'd seen the dark hedgehog's cleaning spree before, and it was nothing short of a whirlwind. "You know, you can sit and relax," Sonic offered, his mouth still full of chili dog. "This is a place for kicking back, not for...this." He gestured vaguely at the cleaning frenzy.

"I can tell. You don't own cleaning supplies," Shadow said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He looked around the kitchen for a broom or mop, his gaze landing on a dusty corner where a forgotten duster lay. "But I guess we can make do," he murmured, picking it up and giving it a disgusted look.

With a sigh, Sonic swallowed the last of his chili dog and took his plate to the sink. "You know, it's not that bad," he said again, trying to sound nonchalant as he rinsed it off. "It's just...comfortable."

"Stop defending this mess," Shadow said, his voice low but firm as he tackled the living room. He tossed a handful of crumpled-up papers into the trash bag. "A clean environment is conducive to clear thinking. And I can't think clearly when everything's a mess."

"Yeesh, sorry." Sonic said with a dramatic eye-roll, setting the plate aside to help with the cleaning. He picked up a random game controller, inspecting it for dust before setting it on the newly cleared coffee table with a clatter.

Shadow shot him a glare. "That goes there," he pointed to a shelf now apparently designated for electronics. Sonic shrugged and tossed it in the right direction, watching as it barely missed knocking over a pile of VHS tapes.

"Best you step aside, speed demon," Shadow said, his eyes on the dust bunny that had the audacity to scurry across the floor. He took a step towards it, his movements deliberate. The dust bunny froze, seemingly aware of the predator in its midst, before darting under the couch. Sonic chuckled, watching Shadow's intense focus.

"Alright, I'll...leave ya to it. I guess I should go shopping for some cleaning stuff, huh?" Sonic chuckled, rubbing the back of his head.

Shadow ignored him, apparently now trying to snatch the dust bunny from under the couch with a surprising amount of determination. Sonic took it as a sign that he wasn't needed anymore, so he slipped out of the house to grab some supplies.

Finally alone, Shadow let out a deep sigh, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he surveyed the remaining mess. He began to pick up the cushions from the floor, his eyes scanning for any signs of life, like a ninja on a reconnaissance mission. The couch looked surprisingly clean under the layer of clutter, and he couldn't help but wonder if Sonic ever actually sat on it. He tossed the last cushion onto the now-bare sofa and took a moment to appreciate the order he had created amidst the chaos.

He sat down on the couch with a sigh, deciding that the dust bunny could wait. The fabric was surprisingly plush, and he found himself sinking into it, his muscles loosening. It was fairly cleaner now, at least more so than before he started. He looked around the room, his eyes lingering on the bookshelf, where books were stacked haphazardly, some with their spines cracked and pages sticking out.

For some reason, it made him itchy seeing them so disorganized. He couldn't help himself; he had to fix it. Shadow stood up from the couch, dusting off his gloves, and approached the bookshelf with purpose. Each book was handled with care, straightening out the pages, aligning the spines, and placing them back in their rightful spot. He paused at a title that caught his eye—a book on ancient civilizations. He pulled it out, flipping through the pages. It was surprising to find something so...intellectual in this mess.

He placed all the books in a line according to their size, the largest to the smallest. Maybe it was his compulsive need for order, but seeing them neat and tidy gave him a strange sense of satisfaction. He no longer felt that itchy feeling of chaos all around him, which was a solid start.

With Sonic no longer present, Shadow decided to roam around the rest of the house. The hallway was lined with framed photos of Sonic and his friends, each capturing a moment of victory or shared laughter. Shadow didn't see himself in any of them, which was perfectly fine by him. He didn't do well with sentimentality. Or smiling in photos.

When he entered Sonic's bedroom, he was actually surprised to see that it was somewhat organized. The bed was made, with a few pillows neatly arranged at the headboard, and the clothes were folded into a neat pile at the foot of the bed. The only anomaly was a single, crumpled sock dangling from the bedpost. Shadow picked it up with the tip of his finger and raised an eyebrow. He tossed it into the laundry basket in the corner of the room.

"What a pig." Shadow mumbled, poking the tip of his shoe at a pile of either clothes or blankets in the corner of Sonic's bedroom.

There wasn't much for him to actively clean in Sonic's room, so he sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling the bounce of the springs beneath him. It was surprisingly comfortable. He glanced over to the nightstand, where a photo of a young Sonic with a stern-looking owl caught his attention. He picked it up, staring at it for a second before setting it back down. He wasn't overly interested in the blue hedgehog's past, but it was a rare glimpse into his personal life—something that was usually as fast-paced and fleeting as Sonic himself.

He poked at the clothes folded at the foot of the bed, looking around for something to do. He could start cleaning again, but there was a smell that caught his attention, coming from the folded clothes. It wasn't a bad smell in any way; it was faintly sweet, and smelled strongly of Sonic.

Sonic's scent was faint but unmistakable. A combination of the outdoors, a hint of sweat from their many battles, and a faint trace of the soap he used in the shower. Shadow's curiosity was piqued, and he found himself holding a sweater to his nose, inhaling deeply. He frowned, unsure why he was so drawn to the scent. It was...comforting, in a weird way.

He began to purr, a gentle motor-like rumble in his chest. It was a hedgehog habit he hadn't realized he'd somehow mastered, a sign of his comfort. The sweater was soft between his gloved fingers, and he found himself stroking the fabric absently, the sound of his purr growing louder. It was a red sweater, faded and worn, but it was clear that Sonic had cherished it. It was brand new, aside from the scent that clung to it.

Without really realizing it, Shadow rubbed his quills against the sweater's fabric, enjoying the feeling of the soft material against his spikes. The smell was comforting, and he wanted, for some reason, to take the scent with him. He rubbed it against his cheek, feeling the warmth it held. It was a strange sensation for someone who had spent his entire life being cold and detached from others.

Quietly, with his arms full of cleaning equipment, Sonic watched from the doorway of his room. He smiled, slowly backing up so he wouldn't disturb Shadow. It was a rare sight to see his usually stoic and solitary friend looking so content—or at least, as content as Shadow ever did. He knew the black hedgehog wasn't one for messes, but to see him actively seeking out comfort in the scent of a worn-out sweater was something new.

"I should wear that sweater more often." Sonic muttered to himself as he tip-toed back down the hallway.

[bohemianblasphemy]

Okay…now I’m going to need Soft!Butcher baking a birthday cake after our conversation. 😏 😝

we absolutely do✨✨

“alright… this should be easy.”

Butcher muttered to himself as he tied up his ‘kiss the cook’ apron around him, looking upon the multiple ingredients and kitchen utensils along the counter.

It was your birthday today- and wanting to impress you with his baking skills he was making a cake from scratch, no help from a premix box by Betty Crocker. You had gone out to run some errands so he took the opportunity to whip something up.

Pulling up his phone, he had a recipe ready to go. Combining the wet and dry ingredients into the mixer as directed, the whirring noise of the machine mixed with the messy noises of the ingredients meshing together. He felt like a proper baker until he turned the mixer too high, causing the floury concoction to fling out from all angles, especially all over him.

“fuck me…” he rushed to turn off the machine, wiping off bits of the mixture off his face. Pulling up the whisk to check on the blend, no lumps were to be found.

Despite the mess he felt proud of himself, pouring the mixture into a lined cake tin and putting it in the oven. “alright… not too shabby for the old cunt.” he said to himself again as he smiled at his work.

A few more ingredients were layed out on the counter to create homemade icing, as well as some candles to adorn it so you could blow them out.

He hummed as he tested the sweet fusion of powdered sugar and butter, putting a dab of food colouring through it to make it presentable when the cake was ready.

He dusted his hands off, wiping down his apron feeling good- but that soon faded, groaning as he saw the mess along the kitchen counter that he had to clean up as the cake was baking.

Like clockwork, the alarm on his phone indicating that the cake was ready as soon as he finished cleaning up. Pulling out the tray with oven mitts, he placed the cake tin on the stove top to let it cool.

As soon as the cake was cool enough, the icing was poured on top and decorated it with candles. Taking a step back, he admired his work knowing that you’d love it.

The turn of the key in the door indicated that you had arrived home, which sprung billy into action as he lit the candles on the cake. As you walked in, your eyes averted to the faint glow of the cake on the counter- Billy standing next to it.

“Happy birthday my love…” he grinned seeing your surprised smile adorning your face.

“Billy… did you make this?”

“Of course i did. Thought I’d whip up a little something special for my favorite person.”

You giggled, looking at his work. “you didn’t have to go through the trouble-“

“Aye, but it’s ya birthday and you deserve it, even if i look like a right muppet whilst i do it.” he smirked.

“you’re far from it Billy, this is perfect. thank you.” A warmth flowed through you as you embraced him in your arms, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

“anything for my girl… now make a wish and blow out ya candles, don’t want melted wax all over my masterpiece.” he teased as he watched you think about a wish and blow the candles out.

“now let’s cut a slice… this looks delicious.” Taking the knife that was next to the plate, lining it up to make an incision. Two slices were cut, the simple sweet treat being thoroughly enjoyed by the two of you.

“what did ya wish for lovey?” he questioned, placing his fork on his plate and looking over to you.

You pondered, before smirking. “You’re just gonna have to find out later…” you winked suggestively, making Butcher chuckle- eager for find out what the rest of the night had in store…

[lavendertom]

The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 3

Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader

part 1, part 2, part 4, part 5, part 6

wc: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of garrett’s kidnapping + mikes trauma from that, fluff, tiny age gap barely mentioned (as always, lmk if there’s anything i’ve missed)

summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings. AU where nothing bad happens at the pizzeria

quick note, as mentioned this is an AU, but mikes trauma is still there from garrett’s kidnapping but i won’t go down the wormhole of lore for this bc that’s not necessarily why i’m writing this

——————————————————————————

The cool breeze of a spring afternoon could be felt as you made your way to the Schmidt’s house. It was a Saturday and technically you weren’t supposed to be at their house today.

Abby was found knocking on your front door just a few minutes earlier, asking if you could come over and play outside with her. You had a good feeling she’d been asking Mike all day, but he refused to call you and ask himself because you’d “probably be busy with school work.” So, the young girl took it upon herself to ask.

“Mike got me a huge box of sidewalk chalk we can draw with.” Abby told you as you walked to the house together. “I also have a bicycle, we can go on a bike ride together! Well, not you, you’re too big for my bike. But you can walk.”

You smiled at yourself, hearing the girl talk and talk about all of the things she was excited to do with you.

“Abby, what’d I say about going to y/n’s house?” you could hear Mike say when you reached the outside of their garage. He looked like he was cleaning some shelves full of random tools.

“She said she wasn’t busy!” Abby said, defending herself.

“It’s okay, I didn’t have much homework this weekend. Anything for my favorite neighbor.” you said in the midst of doing the handshake you and Abby made up one time while you were babysitting after her.

“I thought I was your favorite?” Mike said, pretending to sound offended.

“My second favorite. Get it right.” you said with a small smirk.

Before you could continue conversing with him, Abby dragged you by the wrist with a box of chalk in her other arm.

The two of you combined ended up drawing enough pictures to fill up a majority of the driveway. Granted it wasn’t long, but you ended up making a masterpiece out of the broken up concrete.

“It looks like your room threw up on the driveway, Abby.” Mike said walking out of the garage to assess the damage that was done.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Abby said grinning.

“Yeah, when’s it going to rain again? Or I can just grab the hose and–”

“Be nice!” you said, playfully hitting his arm.

“I want to go on a bike ride now!” Abby said as she ran to pull her bike out of the corner of the garage. She had a habit of quickly moving on from one activity to the next with little room in between.

“I’ll go with her.” you said with a smile.

“I’ll come too.” Mike said, already closing the garage door behind him before you could object and say something like “You need a break, go rest.” Abby already made her way down the drive way, riding towards the sidewalk.

“It’s nice out today.” you said in an attempt to make small talk as you guys followed behind Abby. You guys haven’t spoken much since that night he returned home from his first night shift. You’ll never know what compelled you to give him that hug and what compelled him to give you one in return before you left.

“Yeah, I was finally able to get some stuff done outside today.”

“That’s good.” you were taking in the sounds of the birds chirping, some trees were finally blossoming again after the weather started warming up a bit. After a few seconds of comfortable silence you spoke up, “How’s the job been?”

“As good as a night shift job can be.”

“You getting much sleep lately?” His eyes still looked tired as the day you first saw them, if not more.

“When have I ever.” he paused for a moment, not sure if he was ready to enter this conversation with you. “Sleep has never come easy for me.”

“You can say that again.” you said with a small chuckle.

“Has your mom told you much about our situation?” he said at a slightly softer volume than earlier.

“Not really.”

He took a deep breath before he began talking. “When I was about 12 years old, I had a little brother. His name was Garret. He was taken and we never found him. I was there when it happened.” he stopped for a moment, you looked at him and saw the hurt in his face. “I still have nightmares, every night. I just wish there was something I could’ve done. Anything.”

“I’m so sorry Mike.” you said quietly, you were shocked. You never knew the reasons why this family had it so hard, it made you feel almost guilty that you didn’t take the time to know them earlier. Neither of them asked to be put in this situation.

“It’s okay. It’s just hard thinking back on it. I feel like it’s my fault. Parents told me I needed to watch him. I let this happen.” he was fidgeting with his thumbs, taking in a deep breath. “Anyways, mom died a little after Abby was born, dad died not long after. I had no other choice but to take custody of Abby and become her guardian.”

Everything made sense to you now. Mike had his hands full all of the time and not by choice. No wonder he was always working.

“Are you doing any better now?” you asked.

“The nightmares are still there. I don’t think they’ll ever go away, but I put on a brave face for Abby. She knows very little about Garret, kind of want to keep it that way.”

“I understand.” you said looking down at the pavement beneath your feet. “Thanks for telling me this by the way.”

“You were going to find out one way or another. Better talk about it now than later.” the two of you looked ahead and saw Abby stopped at a street corner.

“You guys are too slow!” she shouted.

“We’re coming!” you shouted back. “If it means anything to you, you’re doing a hell of a good job. She cares about you.” you smiled softly, looking over at him.

“I hope so. Doesn’t seem like it sometimes. She’s a pain in the ass when you’re not around.” he mumbled.

“Really?” you asked, genuinely surprised. “She talks about you like you’re her entire world when I babysit.” The two instantly remembered what the girl had said to Y/n that one night, Y/n not knowing Mike heard all about it the next day.

“You would be a good princess for Mike.”

“Give her some time, she’ll open up to you one day.” you said reassuringly.

The rest of the walk you guys talked about random things. You told him all about your college courses which he found incredibly interesting, although not understanding much about what they entailed. He told you about some of his craziest encounters when he was a mall security guard. The two of you laughed so hard over one of them you almost tripped over the uneven pavement, making you guys laugh even harder.

When you finally returned to his house it was beginning to get dark out. Abby somehow was not tired one bit, despite having ridden her bike for almost 45 minutes.

“I promised Abs I’d let her make s’mores tonight. You can join us.” he said putting his hands in his pockets. It was starting to get cooler out as the sun set. “If you want.” he added at the last second.

“Sure, why not.” you had enjoyed getting to know him better, you didn’t really want to go home yet anyways. “I’m just gonna run home real quick to grab a hoodie, it’s getting co-“

“You can just borrow one of mine.” he interrupted.

“You sure? It’s not that big of a deal I can just run inside real quick.” your heart racing at the thought of him letting you wear one of his hoodies. He’s just being nice you reassured yourself, nothing more.

“Y/n, it’s fine.” he said with a chuckle. “You can go through the gate on the side of the house, Abby’s probably already back there.”

He went through the front door as you walked to the back of the house, and sure enough Abby was already back there placing a handful of s’mores supplies on a little table on the back porch of the house.

“You’re staying for s’mores, Y/n?” Abby asked, excitement beginning to fill her.

“Yeah.” you said smiling. You saw a stack of camping chairs leaning against the house. “Wanna help me grab the chairs?”

The two of you grabbed the chairs, placing them around the campfire pit. You heard the door open and saw Mike stepping out holding hoodies for both you and Abby.

He handed you one, you gave him a tight lipped smile after thanking him. You slipped it over your head, it was just slightly oversized on you. It smelled just like he did the night you gave him the hug, you thought you’d never get over that scent. Your hands were tucked into the pocket of it as you took a seat on one of the chairs, waiting for Mike to finish starting the fire.

“Okay Abs please don’t burn every single marshmallow this time, I want Y/n to actually have an edible s’more.” Mike said looking over at his sister who was already putting far too many marshmallows on a long stick.

Mike sat on the chair next to you. The moment felt peaceful as Abby skipped over holding a stick with marshmallows, holding it over the fire. You watched as Abby toasted the marshmallows, trying her hardest not to turn them all to charcoal. The sun had finally set and the sky was clear, the stars becoming more visible. You noticed Mike was looking up at the sky.

“Have you ever seen a shooting star before?” you asked, both of you now looking up.

“No, have you?” Mike replied.

“A few. When I was a kid, I used to sit out back and just watch the sky until I’d see one. I ended up being able to see a few because of the insane amount of time I’d be out there.” you were still looking up.

Mike turned his attention from the sky to you, watching how your lips formed the smallest of smiles as you spoke. He watched the way your eyes lit up from talking about something so important to you. He felt himself begin to smile, too.

You kept talking, not realizing that he wasn’t looking up at the sky anymore. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, not when your face lit up with joy from just talking about something as simple as the stars. The way it seemed like your hair fell just perfectly and his hoodie seemed to fit you just right didn’t help the situation either.

You finally turned your head back to him realizing he had been looking at you the whole time, a small smile still on his face.

“What?” you said with a nervous laugh.

“Nothing.” he said with a smile, shaking his head slightly as he turned his attention back to the sky.

“Here’s your s’more, Y/n!” Abby said as she suddenly popped up next to you. You almost forgot she was even with you guys anymore, her focus was entirely on making the most yummy s’mores. That left little time for her to ask you all of her usual questions.

“Thanks Abby.” you said, smiling at her as she handed you a messy s’more. She ran back to grab another one, handing it to Mike.

“Thanks Abs.” he said, giving his sister a side hug before she could run away again to grab her own s’more.

The three of you spent the rest of the night snaking on many more s’mores and talking more about the stars until Abby fell asleep in her small camping chair. The fire was dimming, barely alive anymore. You and Mike continued watching the sky, pointing out constellations and attempting to see a shooting star with no luck.

“I should probably take Abby to bed.” Mike said as he stood up, making his way towards Abby. He picked up his little sister as gently as possible making sure not to wake her.

“Yeah I should probably head home now.” you said also standing up. You grabbed the chairs you all used to put them back where you found them.

“Thanks, Y/n. You didn’t have to.” he said as he made his way to the back door.

“No problem. The least I could do after those s’mores Abby made.” you smiled.

You followed him into the house as he walked towards the front door, Abby still peacefully asleep in his arms. He slowly opened the front door for you.

“See you Monday?” he asked.

“Yup.” you replied, and before you knew it he pulled you into a side hug. His two favorite people were in his arms now and he didn’t want it any other way.

“Have a good night, Y/n.”

“You too, Mike.” as you pulled away from his embrace, you put a hand on Abby’s shoulder. You gave the two a small smile which he returned as you walked out of the door.

And you bet he stood there until you were across the street, just like he did every other time you left their house.

When you returned home to your bedroom, which was still decorated like it was when you were 13, you felt warm inside. A different type of warm inside, the feeling you have when you care about someone so much and they care just as much back. All you wanted to do was make sure he knew you cared for him and Abby so much.

You looked at your bulletin board next to your door that had a photo of you and Abby from one of the first times you babysat her. She begged you to bring your polaroid camera and she took advantage of it, snapping all sorts of photos of you and her.

It wasn’t until you saw the photo that you realized you were still wearing Mikes hoodie he lent you. You looked in the mirror next to your door, admiring the hoodie. It wasn’t anything special, just a plain black hoodie, but it felt special. You were determined to continue changing their lives. Making sure their days were brighter, months filled with more happy days than sad ones.

You crawled into bed, too tired to take off the hoodie. You took in the smell of it one last time before you drifted off to sleep thinking about the memories you made today, hoping you’d never forget them.

——————————————————————————

jules jewels (tag list! lmk if u want to be added or removed 🤗)

@balesita @universi8 @browneyedgirly93 @prongsprincessworld @k3nnlolz @mxrvelouss

[catboymettaton]

cunning linguistics

t4t lawlight yuri / rated M for non explicit sex / 1.3k words

combining two prompts from the prompt meme! t4t lawlight and L eating light out!

***

Finally, the wait was over.

The past eighty-four days had been some of the happiest of Light's life, and also the most excruciating. They'd been itchy, and euphoric, and messy, and beautiful, and it was only uphill from here. Finally, she'd healed enough to explore all the uses of her wife's generous gift.

If she were a less diligent woman, she would have taken the day off to spend all day celebrating. But Light had only been back at work for a month, and she already felt guilty about the time she had missed. So she went in like normal, acting as though this was just another normal day and not finally the end of her excruciating countdown.

She arrived home to find L sprawled out on the couch, in a huge white shirt that covered her hips, making it unclear whether she was wearing anything else at all. L was vigorously engaged with a Choco Taco, digging the ice cream out with broad strokes of her tongue.

"Mmm. Hello, Light." Her round, dark eyes flicked up to meet Light's, and she gave the treat another wet, sloppy lick. Her breasts bounced and jiggled with the motion.

Light set her bag down. "Are you enjoying yourself, Ryuzaki?"

"Yes, I rather am." She shut her eyes and gave the entire inside of the taco a loud slurp. Satisfied, she began to crunch into the outer shell.

Light winced. "Please do not use that much teeth."

L opened one eye. "But the tongue is fine?"

Light hung up her cardigan. "Your tongue technique appears acceptable."

"Such high praise." She opened her mouth wide, like a snake unhinging its jaw to strike. The outer shell disappeared in a couple of loud crunches.

"Go wash your face."

"Right away, your majesty." L stood, breasts bobbing and swaying with the motion, and also revealed that she was not, in fact, wearing anything under her shirt. Her penis, hanging free, was quite erect. "I'll see you in bed."

Light watched the door click shut and swallowed hard. She strode to the bedroom, feeling her legs wobble in anticipation. She still hadn't quite gotten accustomed to not feeling her own erection, but the dampness between her legs was a quite welcome replacement.

She stripped off her own shirt and pants, folding them neatly at the side of the bed. She'd picked out her favorite lingerie set for the occasion. When she selected bras, she put practicality first, but fortunately this did not preclude fashion as well. Her bra was black and fairly simple, perfectly molded to support her chest without constricting, and it had a cute lace edging that really brought out the best parts of her physique. The panties were similarly straightforward, solid black with lace edging. Every time she'd seen them in the bathroom at work, she'd felt a shiver down her spine of imagining tonight.

Just as she'd finished spreading herself out appropriately across the sheets, L strode in, shirt already halfway over her head. She cast it off to the side, letting Light feast in the full glory of her naked form. Light felt her mouth water as she scanned her wife's large, supple breasts, soft, rounded belly, and dark expanse of hair cresting the base of her penis. Her legs, soft and supple, propelled this masterpiece of a body forward onto the bed, and up against Light's, so that their breasts meshed together in glorious syngergy.

L pressed her mouth to Light's, tongue penetrating deep between her lips, and Light melted into her touch.

There were times when she liked to fight. There were times when she was desperate for a semblance of control. But now, all she wanted was to let L subsume her, to become nothing but an extension of the other woman.

L's fingers slipped into her bra, thumbs circling her nipples. Light moaned into her mouth, bucking against her thigh. L laughed, a low, deep chuckle.

Three months. It had been three months since Light had allowed herself to fully let go, to let L use her body as she wished. She'd wanted it much sooner, but hadn't dared — the surgeon's orders had been quite clear, and she wanted her risk of complications as close to zero as possible. So she'd restricted herself to dining upon L's body, to leaning over her with her pants still on. It had been delicious, but too much topping had left her restless.

The wait made it all the sweeter.

L devoured Light as if she was just another confection from her ever growing collection. She licked, nibbled, tasted, chewed on Light's ears, and shoulders, and neck, and breasts, and somewhere along the way Light's bra had been cast aside, and Light's panties were growing unbearably wet and she actually could feel the slightest semblance of a clitoral erection.

"Ryuzaki… I need —"

But she was interrupted by another kiss.

"What's that?" L gazed at her, wide eyed in mock concern.

"I need —"

Now she felt her nipple twist, sending shock waves of pleasure and pain that drowned out any part of her brain capable of producing speech.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that." Her fingers dipped below Light's waistband, fully reducing her voice to whimpers and moans.

L grasped the the waistband of Light's panties between her thumbs and index fingers, and delicately tugged it off. She tossed them aside and traced Light's outer labia.

"Mmm. What a beautiful cunt."

Light's cunt. Light's vulva and vagina. Light's pussy. Everything she'd been dreaming of as long as she could recall, finally delivered to her by her wife's generous deep pockets.

Light felt so, so happy.

And then L's mouth descended between her legs and Light could only see stars.

It was evident that L had been looking forward to this just as much as Light. She moved as if Light was the first meal she'd seen in weeks, as if she would die if she stopped. Light began to sob, overwhelmed by the pleasure, and she felt her body moving out of her control, hips bucking wildly, back arching, screams out of her throat and through her teeth.

When she thought she had reached her limit, that it couldn't possibly get better than this, L's fingers slipped into her, curling, and it was as though she'd been struck by lightning.

Light was floating on air. The sheets melted away and all that existed was her and L and the marvelous pleasure enveloping her, pulsing inside her, cradling her limbs. Her usual racing thoughts were gone, and she could no longer think in sentences, only in the abstract syllables of orgasmic euphoria.

When she came crashing back down to earth, her first thought was disappointment that it was over. She'd come so fast. Perhaps her fastest ever. She blinked the tears out of her eyes and saw L grinning up at her, licking the discharge off her fingers.

"Ready for another one?"

"What?"

L flipped her hair back and dropped back in.

She was so sensitive, but it didn't hurt. It felt very, very good, in fact. L added more fingers — she couldn't quite discern how many — and then her body was aglow again, she was swimming in sensations, she was rocketing off past cloud nine and into previously uncharted territory.

In the end, she had no idea how many times she'd come when L finally decided it was time to stop. She was exhausted, but it was a beautiful, euphoric exhaustion. L held her delicately, head nestled gently against her neck. She watched the ceiling fan spin, her vision still pulsating, and shut her eyes.

"Shall I order dinner?"

"Not yet. Stay here."

"Mm. I'm not hungry, anyway."

[gamerbot-22]

The Most Important Meal of the Day!

Prompt: Breakfast

TW/CW: Mentions of gagging and sick stomachs, March is suffering out here, barely proofread and I appreciate spellchecks!

Word Count: 621

A/N: I WAS SO HOPING THAT HIMEKO WOULD GET THIS PROMPT. HELL YES. OH this one was so fun. This one was adorable. I love writing for the Astral Express family SO MUCH. To the point where like. I already have some ideas in mind for little one-off, longer fics instead that have nothing to do with the prompt list. It is so nice to have my inspiration back! Also March is more of the protag here while Himeko is more of an... inciting incident. And, yeah, as a consequence of the amount of fun I had, this is like the longest one of these I've written lol.

Likes and Reblogs appreciated and Requests are Open! Read this story on Ao3 here!

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The dividers in this post were made by @/gamerbot-22 (me!) ☆

© All rights reserved by miHoYo

The dread was palpable in the Party Cart that morning. The hope had been that now that the bar and kitchen upstairs had been properly restored, Shush would take over cooking most meals. But no, Himeko insisted that every day, the good ol' Cooking Wheel (a repurposed spinner wheel from a misplaced board game) would be brought out and spun to decide who got to make that day's breakfast. In private, there had been conversations about potentially weighting the wheel to keep it from landing on Himeko's side, but no one had the heart to actually do it, even when the Express smelled of smoke for days after and unlucky 3-day streak.

So there everyone was, standing around the combination kitchen island and bar, in various states of holding their breaths and forcing neutral expressions as Himeko put the finishing touches on breakfast.

"Was that...?" Dan Heng mumbled, leaning over to Mr. Yang's side when there was the audible crack of an eggshell.

"It was." Welt held his cane a little tighter. Suddenly Dan Heng felt two very pointed sets of eyes on his left side, adding to the growing feeling of guilt for not stepping in to help Himeko with this. He let himself sleep in one time...

Himeko turned on her heels with her usual warm smile, eyes squeezed shut in pride as she stepped to the side to reveal her masterpiece of suspiciously dark rice with a bubbling puddle on top as garnish, with a side of shriveled purple potatoes that somehow looked both overdone and not ripe yet. That inedible stir-fry from a couple weeks ago had very soundly been dethroned as the worst meal the Express' navigator had ever made.

"All done!" She almost sang. "Dig in, everyone!"

"Wow, Himeko! It looks so--" March suddenly pressed a hand over her mouth. She would've gotten through the placating praise if it weren't for that smell. The smell alone would be enough to knock out a Swarm King, let alone an innocent girl like her, but somehow she was strong enough to get through it with only a gag that brought her to lean against Caelus' shoulder.

Immediately the Trailblazer reached to steady her, holding her arm to keep her from tilting over entirely while the other two crew members leaned over just in case.

"March! Are you okay?" Himeko asked, walking fast around the bar to join the others. "You look so pale all of a sudden!"

"Yep!" She strained. "Just fine! Just a little bit of a frog in my throat! It's gone now!" It definitely was not her best lie, but she could be forgiven for that.

"Oh, here!" Himeko reached behind her and produced her favorite coffee mug, filled almost entirely with hot, rich, black coffee. "Drink some of this. It's warm and it should help your throat a bit."

Mr. Yang, Hero of Heroes, began to step in. "Himeko, don't you think some water would--"

But before he could get through that valiant defense, March reached out, took the mug of coffee, and took the biggest gulp on record. The men of the Express fell into flabbergasted silence while Himeko breathed a sigh of relief, reaching to take the mug once March was finished.

"There. Feel better?" She asked, reaching to wipe a drop of sweat from March's temple.

"Yep! Just fine." March held up her thumb, clearly shaken by the coffee but no longer sick from the smell of breakfast. "Ready to eat!"

It took halfway through the meal for everyone to piece together March 7th's galaxy brained play. With the coffee so hot, she'd burned her tongue on it, and now she could hardly taste a crumb of Himeko's magnum opus.

[stargazer-sims]

Journal Entry #14

previous // next // story index

__________

Yuri

Hello! Yuri here.

You were probably expecting Victor to be the one to give you the mountain tour, right? Normally, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to do it, but he’s a little too excited to focus right now.

He hasn’t quite calmed down since he got his new snowboard which, if you know Victor, will most likely not come as much of a surprise. He actually wanted to sleep with it next to his bed last night, and yesterday he was preoccupied with thinking up a name for it.

It’s called Elsa, in case you’re interested, so if in future you hear him say he’s going on the trails with Elsa, don’t worry. It’s not a girl, or at least not a human girl, and Elsa is still his number two obsession. I have it on good authority that the number one spot belongs to me. If that weren’t the case, Elsa and I might have a serious problem.

Fortunately for Victor, I accept that he’s essentially a ten year old trapped in a grown man’s body, and that some of the things he does are going to defy logic and common sense. His quirks are harmless though, and if they make him happy, why should I try to change him? His childlike qualities are part of his charm.

Last night, I didn’t even argue when he said Elsa was spending the night in his room rather than in the downstairs closet where we keep our other snowboards and all the other winter sports equipment. I told him that as long as the snowboard stayed on the floor, he could have both me and Elsa in his room for the night and everything would be fine.

Since today is Saturday and neither of us has to work, we planned to spend most of the day on the mountain if the weather was good. It’d been raining through the week, so although I’d picked up our new snowboards earlier, we haven’t had a chance to try them before now.

I knew when we went to bed that we’d be getting up early today. The problem was, I forgot that the combination of Victor being a morning person and being excited about something usually makes for an earlier start than I’d prefer.

He woke me before sunrise with, “Guess what, Yuri? It’s not raining. It’s time to get up.”

Unlike Victor, I am not a morning person. Part of this may be genetic – my father isn’t a morning person either – and it may also be due in part to the ludicrous number of prescription medications I’m taking. Whatever the reason, when I wake up it usually takes me a while to start feeling fully conscious and able to function. I remember mumbling something like, “Still dark. Don’t wanna.”

“It’s snowboarding time. You want to do that, right?”

“Mm-hmm… but the mountain’ll still be there later.”

“Yuu-rii…” He drew out the syllables of my name in a plaintive whine. “I’ve been waiting all week.”

“I know. Me too,” i said. “But can we please just stay in bed until the sun comes up?”

“But I can’t sleep,” he said.

“Okay, but can you let me sleep?”

Apparently concluding that whining wasn’t going to get him anywhere, he put his hand on my back and began to massage in between my shoulder blades in exactly the way he knows I like. “If you’re going to be all bossy and make us both stay in bed for another couple of hours, you’re not sleeping,” he said.

Without meaning to, I let out a small whine of my own. I don’t know what it is about that spot, but I always have so much muscle tension there, and Victor knows how to release it every time. I felt like I wanted to melt under his hand.

“Why are you like this?” I said.

“Are you complaining?” he asked.

“No, but using my body to manipulate me is just unfair.”

“Oh,” he said, failing spectacularly at his attempt to sound innocent. “Am I doing that?”

“You’re the worst,” I grumbled. “Working your magic on me like that isn’t going to make me do what you want. I’m still not getting up.”

“Fine. We can lie here and talk. How about you tell me what you want for breakfast so I can visualize my culinary masterpiece or whatever.“

"I don’t want—”

“Not the correct answer,” he cut me off mid-protest. “No going on the mountain without breakfast. That’s the rule.”

“All right,” I conceded. “That is the rule. I’ll eat whatever you make. You can surprise me. And I am going back to sleep, whether you like it or not.”

“Without even responding to this generous offer of cuddling?” he inquired, fingers still moving purposefully. “I can work on all your other favourite spots.”

“Okay, but only the ones you can do without making me move and… Mmm…” He’d already glided his hand further down toward my lower back. “Yes, right there.”

“So, you’re basically asking for the best back rub ever. That’s totally doable. Like, I need to have something to occupy me if I’m not allowed to leave the bed, don’t I?”

"You’re impossible, Victor,” I said, but wasn’t about to refuse his offer, and I didn’t bother to tell him that I hadn’t actually said he couldn’t get up.

Sometimes the best edge one can have is to take advantage of other people’s inability to pay attention to the details of a conversation. I considered myself to have won all around. I was able to get more sleep, I’d convinced Victor that he needed to stay with me and snuggle, and we’d get to go snowboarding at a sensible time of day.

In the end, Victor fell asleep again despite all his protests about not being able to. To my amusement, he drifted off before I did, mumbling against my shoulder, “Wasn’t s’posed to be sleepy. This’s all your fault, Yuri.”

You see what I have to put up with?

We both woke up again around seven o’clock, and I felt better prepared to start the day at that time. Victor prepared a fruit salad, scrambled eggs, rice and miso soup for breakfast. I had a protein bar instead of eggs, but I asked Victor to let me try a few bites of his. At that, his face looked like somebody had just told him he’d won the lottery. He fed me with his own fork, which is typically a serious breach of good manners here, but nobody at the table seemed to care. Dr. Nelson looked so proud, I thought she might cry.

I’ve been making more of an effort to eat different foods lately. Normally, I wouldn’t have eggs at breakfast. In the morning is when I’m least enthusiastic about eating, and I mostly stick to foods that are easy for me to tolerate like miso soup and rice. Victor says he thinks one of my problems isn’t that I can’t eat certain things, but that I’ve built a habit of avoiding them. He could be right, so now I’m trying to push my boundaries a little, attempting to see if any of those habits can be broken safely and without too much stress.

Egg isn’t my favourite thing to eat, but it didn’t taste terrible and it didn’t cause me any discomfort. I felt encouraged by that.

Small victories, I thought.

After breakfast, Victor and I headed up the mountain while Dr. Nelson went off to a Japanese calligraphy class. On the way up, Victor only asked me twice if I was feeling okay, which may have been another small success because he’s generally far more solicitous. I would’ve expected him to be concerned after having seen me eat something out of the ordinary, but I concluded that maybe he was starting to relax a little about it. Then again, it just may have been that he was too distracted by the prospect of his first run on his new board to be as attentive to me as usual.

When we stopped to look at the public notice board to check the trail conditions, we discovered to our surprise that the expert run was open. Needless to tell you, Victor was thrilled about that. As if he wasn’t already overexcited, he started bouncing up and down next to me.

“We have to go there first!”

“I thought you said you didn’t want me to do the expert run,” I said.

“Yeah, I didn’t want you to, but I never said you couldn’t,” he clarified. “You’re ready to conquer the world today. I can just tell.”

“Is this about breakfast?”

“It’s about fearlessness!” He flung his arms out in an expansive gesture. “Small stuff like an egg, big stuff like a steep trail… it doesn’t matter. If you’re not afraid to try, who knows what awesome thing might happen?”

A bit over the top, but I had to admit he made a good point.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.”

“Yes!” he exclaimed. “I’ll go first, and you can follow me down, okay?”

“Okay.”

I guess nobody else on the mountain felt like living as dangerously as we did, because when we got to the top of the run we were the only ones there.

Victor gazed down the mountainside with a gleam in his eyes that might have been mistaken for desire if he’d been looking at a person. His face had softened into a kind of adoring smile that I’m sure he saves only for me and for his beloved Arashiyama. I’ve only ever seen it when we’re alone or when he’s ‘communing with the mountain’, as he likes to say.

“Fresh powder,” he said softly, as if he were praying to some deity. “And I’m going to be the first one on it.”

It was fascinating to observe him in the next few minutes. For someone who’d been literally vibrating with unused energy only a short time ago, now he seemed preternaturally calm. He laid his board gently and almost reverently on the snow, then pulled off a glove and placed his bare palm on the centre of the board between the bindings. He whispered something, but I couldn’t catch what it was.

Glove back in place, he snapped one boot into the bindings of his board, and turned to look over his shoulder at me.

"All right,” he said. “Now, I’m ready.”

I smiled. No question. He was clearly ready. “Don’t let me hold you back.”

“You have to watch me. You’re going to watch, right?”

“Yes,” I said. “I’ll be watching. I’ll follow you down in a few minutes.”

“Be careful.”

“You be careful. You’re the one who takes all the risks.”

“Because I love it,” he said gleefully as he snapped his other boot into place. “And I’ll bet Elsa’s going to love it too. I have a super good feeling about her.” He glanced down at his board and gave a tiny nod. “Ready, Elsa?”

The snowboard, of course, did not respond. Not that I could tell, at least, but Victor may have heard something that was only perceptible to him.

“Try not to—” I began, but halfway through the sentence I knew it was pointless to tell him anything about not getting carried away. I realized it the moment he took off.

The first part of this particular trail has a sharp incline, and he dropped over the edge with an exuberant shout of, “Woo… yeah! We got this, Elsa! You are the queen!”

At some early point in his international competitive career, a Canadian sports commentator had given him the nickname The Silver Storm, and it’s not hard to tell why. I love watching Victor on the slopes. Just like a fierce snowstorm, he's beautiful and powerful, fearsome and awe-inspiring all at once.

Victor fully embraced the epithet pinned on him by that commentator, I think. He went so far as to name his current competition board Silver Storm. It's a magnificent silver and teal Snowy Peak custom race board. When Victor catches air with it, everyone can see the name 'Silver Storm' and the Canadian flag emblazoned on its underside. Victor is ridiculously proud of it, and even though I imagine Silver Storm the snowboard will likely be retiring now that Elsa is here, I doubt the mountain has seen the last of it. Victor cares for it too much to stop using it entirely.

Some people probably think it's silly that Victor names his boards. I may tease him about it, but I actually don't think it's silly at all because I know why he does it. To him, his snowboard isn’t just an object or a tool; it’s a partner, a sleek extension of his body’s beauty and an instrument of his power. In combination, Victor and Silver Storm are a sight to behold, and I hope he finds the same connection with Elsa and rides it to just as many top finishes.

I suppose I should explain a bit about Victor's sport, shouldn't I? I ought to have done that before I embarked on a rambling monologue about the naming of snowboards. Apologies for that. Let me see if I can demystify things for you.

When you think of snowboarding, maybe the first thing that comes to mind is freestyle, where riders do tricks and jumps in a terrain park. Freestyle is fun to watch but it’s not nearly as exhilarating or as terrifying to witness as alpine snowboarding. Victor competes in alpine events where the objective isn’t to be fancy. The goal in alpine events such as giant slalom, parallel giant slalom and Super-G is to be fast. Victor told me that his last coach once clocked him at 98 kilometres per hour on a Super-G course, and I know that he routinely hits speeds of 70 kilometres per hour or more when he’s training for his best event, parallel giant slalom. Competitive alpine snowboarding is extremely dangerous. It requires focus and precision, and either a massive amount of courage or a total lack of fear. It's ideal for an adrenaline junkie like Victor.

Anyone watching him can see how passionate he is about the sport, not to mention how talented he is. He’s got the medals and trophies to prove his skills, but even though he enjoys competing and he does well, I think what really drives him isn’t a need to be the best or to win anything. I think, for him, it’s the freedom and the thrill of flying down the mountainside. Arashiyama itself is his only true competitor. He’s determined to take on any challenge the mountain can create, and to emerge as… the victor, for lack of a better word.

I stared at him until he rounded a bend in the trail and I couldn’t see him any more. Then, I started my own descent. I didn’t take off with a yell like he did, but I was crying out with joy on the inside.

I was ten years old when I tried snowboarding for the first time, and I don’t think I’d be exaggerating if I said it changed my life. Before snowboarding, I was a lonely, sheltered child who was afraid of everything and everyone. The biggest risk I ever took before my first time on a snowboard was sledding down the tiny hills at the foot of Arashiyama with my older cousin Akari and my tutor Jack.

One afternoon, Jack took me and my sister Hana, who was five at the time, up to the bunny slope. Jack wanted to practice with his new skis and he said Hana and I could play with my sled nearby, as long as he could see us.

While I was trying to pull Hana around on the sled, a boy around my own age came up to us. He introduced himself as Takahiro Suzuki and told me that his family had just moved to Matsumori from Kyoto because of his mother’s new job, and he was looking for people to be friends with. He’d already met some other boys, he told me, and they’d all signed up for a snowboarding lesson that very afternoon. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that, but Jack had overheard the part of the conversation where Takahiro invited me to join the group lesson and encouraged me to try it.

“I think you’ll enjoy it, Yuri,” Jack had said. “You like skating and you like your bonsai tree class, but you didn’t want to do those at first either, remember?”

“Yeah,” I’d acknowledged.

“Don’t forget what I’m always telling you about trying new things.”

“I’m not allowed to say I don’t like it until I’ve tried it.”

“Good man. Hana and I will stay here and play until you’ve finished your lesson. Then we’ll all go for a nice hot drink and you can tell me how it went, yeah?”

“Okay," I'd agreed.

Jack had wished me luck and hugged me — he was one of the very few people I’d permit to do so — and then off I went with my new friend Takahiro.

There were five of us in that first group lesson; Takahiro, Seiji, me and two other boys called Tatsuki and Ren. I remember being unreasonably pleased to discover that Tatsuki had a disability more serious than mine which meant, for a change, I wasn’t being treated like an object made of glass. In fact, it was the first time I realized that if I didn’t mention my illness, no one would know about it and I could pass for normal.

One of the two instructors had been wholly occupied with Tatsuki, which left the other to teach the rest of us. There was no pity or sadness in that man’s eyes for me. To him, I was equal to Takahiro and the others, and that was a revelation.

Looking back on it now, I have the maturity and grace to be ashamed for comparing myself to the child with low vision and somehow thinking I was superior to him because I didn’t need one-on-one attention. Nevertheless, my contrition in no way detracts from how amazing that first snowboarding experience made me feel.

With helmets, boots and boards borrowed from the Recreation Association, Takahiro, Seiji, Ren, Tatsuki and I were a motley quintet of shrill voices and flailing arms as we tried to find our footing on the gentle bunny slope. We all fell down a lot, and I was exhausted by the time the lesson was over, but I knew I’d found my place on the mountain that day. All the yoga and Tai Chi that my mother had made me practice to improve my strength had given me an advantage in balance and movement most of the other boys didn’t have, and I relished the seemingly contradictory feelings of control and liberation I experienced as I slid down the hill. Looking back on it, my first successful run on the bunny slope seems minor, but to ten year old me it was an enormous accomplishment and made me feel like I had power for the first time in my life.

Look at me now, little Yuri, is what I wished I could say to my child self as I zipped down the second-steepest slope on Arashiyama. Thank you for being so courageous that day. You made this possible.

After a few heart-stopping runs down the expert trail, even Victor admitted he needed a break. We went back to the public square for a hot bowl of noodles and some of our favourite sage green tea. I wish I could figure out how to make sage tea taste as good at home as it does on the mountain, but maybe you have to be exhausted from exercise to fully appreciate the flavour.

While we were in line to get food, I noticed a poster for climbing lessons. I knew Victor had been wanting to sign up for the full climbing course offered by the Recreation Association, but it was expensive and required gear. This lesson was free, and the poster said it was safe and easy enough that ski gloves, good winter boots and ski or snowboard helmets were acceptable equipment.

I thought that it might be a good way to pass the afternoon, so I suggested it to Victor.

“Are you sure?” he said. “Do you think you can climb?”

“There's only one way to find out,” I said.

He frowned a little. “But, what if you get hurt? You could fall and break something, or strain a muscle, or…”

I laughed. “Victor! Are you even listening to yourself right now? You had absolutely no problem with me riding down the second-craziest slope on this mountain not once, but three times this morning, and now you’re worried about me trying to climb a little rock formation?”

“Yeah, but it’s different,” he said.

“I thought you told me that today was my day to conquer the world.” I reminded him.

“I guess I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Did you mean it?” I asked.

“Of course I meant it.”

“So, will you please try climbing with me?”

His inner conflict was visible in his eyes, but the moment he beamed at me and his smile lit up his entire face, I knew which side had won. “Okay, yeah!” he said. “Let’s do it!”

I just want to say for the record, climbing is hard work. I fell off the rock a couple of times and I know I’m going to have some impressive bruises tomorrow. If I’m being honest, I fully expect that I won’t even be able to get out of bed tomorrow and Victor will probably have to help me with almost everything, but for the moment, I’m not even worried about it. I’m still riding the adrenaline high.

After a few false starts, I made it all the way to the top. Victor, not surprisingly, turned out to be a natural born climber. He loved it, and I’m sure he’ll be saving his money to take the full climbing course after this.

When I reached the top, Victor was already there waiting for me. He grabbed me and pulled me into a warm, zealous hug.

“Yuri! You were awesome!” he practically shouted. “I kept looking over at you to make sure you were okay, but I guess I was worried for nothing. You’re brave and amazing, and I’m so proud of you.”

This was the sort of comment that would usually embarrass me and make me want to deny it, but in that moment, I really did feel brave and amazing. I never would have dreamed of doing something like climbing before, much less would I have been the one to suggest it in the first place. Yet, there I was, flushed and exhausted and triumphant, at the top of a small rock formation I’d scaled all by myself with no hand up from anyone.

Today may not have been my day to conquer the world, but I think I conquered something far more important. Today, I told my fear that it would not — could not — win. I know it’s not gone forever. My anxiety and fear will always be there, lurking around some shadowy corner, but maybe I’m slowly learning that hiding from the things that scare me isn’t the answer. I have to take a step forward and say to my fear, I acknowledge you, but I won’t let you take my power.

Today, it was eggs and a rock outcrop. Tomorrow, who knows?

[dreamingon-forever]

hi can you give some levihan headcanons as a couple , maybe in modern au

Thank you so much for the request! This is my first headcanon request so I tried to make it as perfect as possible! Also, bear with me because I got overexcited with the ask, and instead of the point form HC formulation I should've followed, I may or may not have thought up their whole freaking backstory... and their follow up story... Oops. I won't post it here today, but I do think I will make it a separate post some other day if anyone is interested enough. Either way, thank you so much and I hope you enjoy!

AO3 link: 💚💜

I like to think that even in modern AU, Hange would still have her cheery personality, but instead of obsessing over Titans, she'd be more interested in microbes (I know, transition between giants to microorganisms, LOL). She'd still be interested in saving humanity, but more in the bacterial and medical kind of field instead.

Levi on the other hand, no longer having to be a soldier, he'd happily run the tea shop he'd always wanted right next to his best friends Isabel and Furlan.

The two met on a subway ten years ago on Levi's first day of work in the city. Where an unfortunate mix up of personal belongings caused by clashing into each other got them acquainted and familiar with each other. Despite the unfortunate meeting and the roller coaster of events that unfolded from their collision, it eventually became a pleasant story to tell their friends or at parties when asked how they met.

They were complete opposites of each other. Hange loved the outdoors while Levi preferred staying at home. She was loud and upbeat while he preferred silence and tranquility. Hanger had a habit of being free willed and letting her spontaneity take her, while Levi liked to have everything planned and set before getting into anything

And it wasn't just their preferences that differed, it was every aspect of themselves. Their life choices and ways of thinking were drastically opposing. Even the way they disagreed on what they wanted to eat for dinner caused heated discussion when brought up, as Hange would pick sweets for dinner instead of something sustainable like Levi wanted.

They were complete and utterly the opposite of each other. And while everything pointed to them not working out and onlookers put their money on their relationship ending in a messy breakup, they proved everyone wrong every time with how much their bond only grew stronger overtime. And how their loving partnership became more and more obvious the more time spent around them, erasing any doubts they had about the couple.

Yes, they fought occasionally, and they drove each other absolutely insane. But their differences also brought them out of each other's shells, together experiencing new things they would've never seen without the other otherwise. They saw the world in a different light through each other's eyes, and came to love the new combined word they created together. Because with being opposites of each other, it also meant they filled each other's holes and missing pieces. Almost like creating a stained glass window meant to be clear with splashes of purples and greens instead. Creating an accidental masterpiece that came to be adored by those lucky enough to bask under the kaleidoscope of colours in their inner chapel. Bathing those closest to them with the deep love they had for each other.

Throughout the years of getting to know each other, they found a way to put their differences away, and somehow managed to build up their relationship status to best friends. So much so that Isabel and Furlan, Levi's childhood friends complained about being replaced so quickly. Although, in all considerations, it felt to Levi like he was the one being replaced by Hange instead with the way his friends loved her. Hell, even his mother and uncle seemed to love her more than him.

"Welcome home, runt. Where's Hange? I wanted to discuss about the new wine she mentioned to me last time." His uncle would say when he'd visit.

"Oh Hange! I've made your favourite pudding!" His mother would greet, throwing herself at his girlfriend before she caught sight of her own son staring at them with a roll of his eyes. "Oh, Levi! Nice to see you too of course."

Contrary to his grumbles and complains about Hange being overburdened by his family every time she visited, he couldn't help but feel his heart beat happily at knowing the love of his life was accepted by his family, and that they loved her as much as he did himself. Having the two most important parts of his life get along was all he cared about.

Despite having known each other for ten years, having met when Levi was 26 and Hange 24, they didn't start dating until... well that was a mystery of its own as they themselves didn't really know when they started dating. Not fully at least.

Somewhere along the years of their friendship the lines blurred, and they somehow ended up with the shocking, yet not surprising realization that they were and had been dating each other for a while. But the way they realized it and came to terms with it wasn't an easy one. When Levi finally came to terms that he harboured feelings for his best friend, he initially thought that Hange had feelings for someone else. And he could only put up with the unbearable pain he went through when he overheard Moblit mention to Nifa that Hange couldn't meet with them for a work dinner because she had a date already.

So one can only imagine his surprise when Hange showed up with a smile at his shop door on Saturday, greeting him and his workers as happily as ever. Even throwing herself at him for a hug like she always did whenever she visited. A hug that would be considered too personal and close for two individuals that were only considered friends. But not once during her whole afternoon spent there did she mention anything about meeting up with anyone else, but the suspense was absolutely killing Levi by the point the clock struck half an hour to dinner time.

But Hange continued being her usual self. Greeting new and old clients alike as if she'd been friends with them for ages. Making a complete mess of his usual clean counters only to be scolded off by Levi to go to the corner and read instead, and even teasing him about random things like she always did. All the while being completely unaware of the turmoil and the pain Levi felt at thinking about how he would have to hide his feelings and having to pretend to be happy for Hange being with someone that wasn't him the rest of their live. It was becoming an unbearable and depressing Saturday to say the least. His mood only soured more as Hange still acted all upbeat and nonchalant as ever. Not once having brought up her dating life to him, despite being her so called bestie. And it brought about this ugly feeling of disbelief and jealousy out of him that he'd never experienced before.

As nighttime fell over the streets, Levi finally broke his silence and lashed out at her bitterly, asking why she was hanging out with him when she already had plans with someone else.

And out of all ways she could've reacted to his interrogation, being laughed at was something he didn't expect.

"But Levi, YOU are my date." She finally gasped, having finally gained the capacity to breathe again after having laughed at his question.

"Huh? How am I your date, fucking Four- Eyes. We never made plans for anything. Besides, I overheard your coworkers talk about you meeting someone instead of eating with them... How can I be considered your date?"

Hange tilted her head, amusement flowing in her brown eyes as she caught the usual poised and self-assured raven-haired individual lose his composure. "Huh... But I thought we've been dating for while now, Shorty. I've even been referring to you as my boyfriend to my friends and coworkers for the last few months."

Turns out, her date was none other than Levi. And her idea of a date was hanging out with him at his tea shop on the weekend like she's been doing the last five years. And Levi, as clueless to feelings as ever, never put two and two together.

The whirring of machine cogs and espresso machines filled the silence between them as Levi processed whatever Hange had just said.

"The fuck?! You can't simply just call me your boyfriend when I haven't even been aware of us dating this whole time!" He finally retaliated, throwing the rag in his hands onto the tabletop.

Hange giggled, noticing the reds on his cheeks. It wasn't a no, she could read from his eyes. "I like you too, Shorty. So? Are we officially dating now?"

"You better make up for the last few months I've been out of loop of my own relationship."

They ended up adopting a black goldfish adorably named One-Eyed Moody after the professor of the dark arts from the Harry Potter series for the fact it was both very moody and in fact, one eyed. Levi had reluctantly agreed to let Hange get a pet for their apartment once they had moved in together after a year of dating. He expected her to get a cat, a big dog, or a lizard for all he knew. Although he made it very clear the last one were on the black list.

Instead, Hange had found One-Eyed Moody on a cart ready to be discarded off at the pet shop. Having instantly connected with it, she begged Levi to get it. And with a heavy sigh, he couldn't say no. Mind you, it was pretty much dead at that point, but through endless observation and whatever mutated food concoction Hange whipped up, it came back to life in a matter of weeks. And in turn, Levi had somewhat grown attached to it. Hange liked to joke that it was their baby and it resembled them both in some ways.

Their days spent together were a blend of their interests mixed into one. When Hange wanted to settle down and read, Levi would do skin care for both of them to make use of their time. All the while Hange reading aloud the words from her book so Levi could listen as well. When Levi wanted to clean the house, Hange knew better than to lend a hand as he was peculiar in his ways. So instead she'd make some tea for both of them and cook dinner for a famished Levi by the end of his cleaning session. On days Hange felt like watching a documentary on bugs or microbes, Levi would lay his head on her lap as she brushed her fingers through his locks. The soothing motion letting him get some shut eye he usually never got due to his insomnia.

Hange had a habit of working overtime, and sometimes even staying overnight at her lab. On days like these Levi would pack up some sweets from his shop and some warm tea and bring them to her office as he kept her company. On the off days Hange had a day off, she'd use it to help around in Levi's shop. Chatting up customers and bringing a bright feeling to the atmosphere. Levi absolutely adored watching her laugh and interact with regulars from behind the counter. Although he'd never voice these thoughts aloud. But it wasn't needed, as his employees, Jean, Sasha, and Connie all make kissy faces to each other whenever they caught Levi glancing a little too long at his partner.

Levi didn't like to admit it, but most of his photos on his phone were of candid pictures of Hange. But not the flattering ones most boyfriends take of their girlfriends that are Instagram worthy. No, most of them were completely unflattering. Many consisting of Hange snoring with her mouth wide open, of her laying in a pile of dirt after having chased a squirrel. Of Hange throwing a middle finger to the camera after being caught without caffeine early in the morning, or even of her snorting in laughter after something funny Erwin had told them during one of their get togethers.

He was absolutely infatuated with her. With her quirks and her being. He was in love with Hange Zoe.

And similarly, Hange kept a record of all the plants and bouquets Levi gave her over the years. A collection of pressed flowers and dried leaves from every flora and fauna he'd ever gifted her. Because as much as she loved flowers, she loved more the effort gone into picking a different flower each time they had a celebration. Because as Levi had once told her, she was so unique that not one flower could ever describe her, and that he could never tie her down to one specific plant.

Normal dates like going to the mall or watching movies before dinner on a weekend weren't their thing. Instead, beach dates in mid freezing February nights, stargazing spontaneously on a random Wednesday night, running around the fields of the neighbourhood Hange grew in during summer afternoons, hiding from thugs after trespassing someone's property to take a look at the size of a wasp's nest, ending with the nest falling to the ground and its inhabitants swarming around the local outlaws on a spring morning... All were chaotic memories that belonged only to them. Those were the kind of dates they had.

They never had to verbally express their admiration or love for each other openly. Or make it everyone's business to know that they were together because they had upmost trust in their partnership and relationship without having to project it to the world in a fright of being misunderstood. Both knowing perfectly well how much they cared and loved each other in the small gestures they shared: The little brush of fingertips as they greeted each other goodbye before work. In the way they worked in sync when working together on a project for their new home. Of how they made love to each other in the warm embrace of each other, blinds closed and moans silenced between their interexchange of kisses. Making their love known only between themselves. It never became a pressing matter having everyone else know their business or feeling the need to explain their relationship to others. In the end, their actions spoke louder than words, and everyone could tell that they had the upmost trust in their relationship.

But in the calmness and safety of their bubble, eventually doubt would emerge, and leak a hole in their safe haven, no matter how much effort they put into keeping it afloat.

Hange absolutely loved and had a strange fascination for energy drinks infused in coffee, the ones that had 10 times the amount than should be allowed by any manufacturers or allowed to pass inspections. So much so that she'd stop by the convenience store on the corner of their apartment every time she came back from work. Bringing with her at least 10 cans with her.

Levi, despite his eye rolls and grumbles about over caffeination and annoyance at having a bunch of empty cans to constantly recycle, still got them for her whenever he passed by on his way from the tea store nonetheless. Loving and having a soft spot for the way Hange's eyes lit up and the way she threw herself at him every time he brought it for her.

Due to their different time schedules they never got to meet up to shop together, but nonetheless they each become regulars in the little shop for the drinks Hange so badly craved.

It was one day that Hange came back, a look of complete defeat on her face as she slummed against the door that Levi understood something was wrong. That, and the fact her hands were empty of her usual drinks.

"Finally figured out you were consuming poison?" Levi questioned as he started unclasping her shoes, carefully placing them on the shoe rack.

Shaking her head sadly, Hange sighed. "No... they hiked up the prices again. I know we're tight on money so I can't go buying five dollar coffee from the convenience store anymore... I guess I'll just have to settle for the stale decaf coffee they have at the office."

"Tch... don't exaggerate, Four-Eyes. The drinks were never more than two bucks." Levi muttered, taking her jacket off and placing it on the hanger.

Hange's brows furrowed. "Two bucks? When have they ever been that cheap? I've always been paying four fifty."

"Huh? What fucking store have you been to? It's been two fifty since we've moved here." Levi grumbled, flicking his finger over her forehead.

The topic brought on an argument that lasted the whole night over who was right and wrong. And it only settled when they both agreed to go to the store the following day together. Luckily it was a national holiday and neither had to go to work.

The following day, in typical Hange fashion, she'd forgotten to feed One-Eyed Moody. Refusing to leave the house without feeding him first, she told Levi to go on first, and that she'd meet him in the store.

But what she found as she entered the familiar shop was something she'd never expected. The usually bored clerk was suddenly chirpy and chatting up no other than her boyfriend. Levi on the other hand, seemed quite discontented from the conversation, but kept adding a word or two in politeness.

Suddenly catching his girlfriend's gaze, Levi started raising his hand to signal her over, when Hange crossed her hands in front of her, shaking her head vigorously as she unlinked and relinked her arms in the cross motion, signaling behind the cashier's back for Levi to not blow her cover.

Confused at her sudden antics, he furrowed his brows, but did as instructed, following Hange's pointed look to the cooler housing her favourite drinks before she mouthed "cashier, go pay for them!".

It was only after he exited the store ten whole minutes later, an annoyed look on his face that Hange finally pounced on him.

"So?"

"So what? You left me to listen to that girl talk about bad dates alone for ten minutes. Here's your stupid drinks." Levi grumbled, throwing the plastic bag into her arms.

Shaking her head, Hange stopped him from walking towards their home's direction. "NO! I meant, how much did you pay?"

"Ah... like I said, two bucks each." He said, annoyance still laced in his words.

And that's when it clicked for Hange. "Ah huh! I knew it! Levi! She's into you! She's been giving you a discount in order to get you to pay attention to her! She's been flirting with you this whole time!"

And instead of how a typical girlfriend would act after having found out their boyfriend was being hit on by someone else, Hange looked absolutely elated.

"Why you so happy about that? Are you not afraid that I'll reciprocate her someday?"

Of course they both knew he was kidding. The bond and love they shared with each other, despite being subtle, was very much irreplaceable.

"Because, it means that from now on, I get to stock up on my favourite drinks at a nice price!"

"Tch... you don't even know if she actually lowered the price, Four-eyes. Maybe you got charged extra by accident."

But having stepped into the store and bringing back a drink with her, Hange had confirmed for both of them all they needed to know.

And so, that day forward, it became their little secret. Levi would get Hange her drinks at a discounted price because of a crush the cashier had on him.

At first everything seemed alright, but slowly as time progressed, Levi seemed more distant and dejected every time he returned from the store. Hange seemed to pick up on his change of mood, but wasn't sure what was causing it. So instead she watched on in silence as Levi's presence became more and more cold.

Unsure of how to bring it up, she watched silently, until eventually Levi was the first to bring it up.

"Hange... are you okay with someone else hitting on me? Are you fine of having others perceiving me as single?" Levi asked suddenly one night. They were doing their usual pre-bed night routine as Levi prepped their ten stepped skin care for both of them. Hange resting her head on his lap, a book open in front of her.

"Hm? No... Should I be?" She asked, her eyes still glued to the words on the pages before her.

Levi's hands stilled completely, bringing a silence over them following Hange's words.

"No... nothing." He muttered finally, getting up. "I'm done. Don't go to bed too late." He said before walking towards their shared bedroom, his face concealed by the dark room.

At first Hange sat there in confusion. What was up with him and his weird questions? She thought about going to him and getting an answer out of him, but as her gaze fell over the bottles of her favourite drink sitting by the doorstep, realization fell over her. And her heart shattered.

The following day, Levi was doing the usual run. Head downcast and eyes unfocused, he forced on a smile that didn't reach his eyes as the cashier continued telling him something he assumed was supposed to be funny.

"Anyways, that'd be ten dollars."

The usual conversation... the usual dissociation... the same dull pain he felt at pretending to be interested in someone he had no feelings for.

"If you're free, I've been thinking... maybe we can get to know each other outside of the sto-"

As Levi started handing over the bill, already coming up with a plausible excuse to not go on a date, a hand suddenly stopped him, pulling him back.

"Sorry, I think you've got the wrong price! The price tag reads five dollars for a drink, and we got five of them here. I think- I think you might be undercharging us!" A bright voice chirped out of breath.

"Hange?" Levi asked surprised, turning to see the mess of a woman before him. She was absolutely out of breath, her lab coat was still on her figure, where a bunch of stains of various unnatural colours painted the once white cloth, and worse of all, she had goggles over her glasses, and that wasn't counting the pair that hung from her neck or the one on her forehead.

"Sorry I'm late. Work took longer to finish than I thought." She puffed out, throwing him a wide smile.

The cashier cleared her throat, noticing the gaze between them, not liking how close they seemed. "Uh... I'm sure I put the price right... I'll go check on the price tags after I ring this customer." She said as she turned back to Levi, her eyes still turning to take a look at Hange. "Don't worry about it, pay the usual price you pay."

But before she could continue, Hange inserted herself once more. "No need! I've got the rest of the money here." She said, pulling out a bunch of lose change from her pockets. Some which fell to the floor if not rolling on the counter.

"Oops..."

"Ma'am... I'm sorry, but can you please wait for your turn? I'm helping this customer over here first. I'll get back to you af-"

"We're paying together. These are for her. She's my girlfriend." Levi said.

A stunned silence fell over the three of them at Levi's words. His confession even surprising Hange as it was the first time she'd heard him introduce her as his girlfriend to anyone else other than their family and friends.

There was a certain pride in his eyes as he finally got to call her his in public. He wasn't one for public affection, or making the world know of his business. But there was something that warmed his chest in having others see them as a couple. Of having made it known that Hange was his. And only his.

Hange smiled. "25 should be the full price." She said, picking up the forgotten coins on the counter before interlacing her fingers with Levi's, and rushing out the door together with his hand in hers. The wind carrying her contagious laugh as they made their way to their apartment. Onlookers and everything else be damned.

"Aren't you sad?" Levi finally asked as they crashed onto the floor of their entrance hall after having run all the way up the stairs to their home.

"Over?" She asked breathlessly, turning to look at her lover.

"The fact you'll have to pay more for the drinks. Or at least cut down on them."

Hange chuckled, a bright twinkle of amusement amongst her brown eyes. "It's worth it. I'd rather pay more for my drinks than lose that warmth of yours... I don't want the love of my life to feel like I'm hiding our relationship. Besides... It was kind of sexy having you put claim over me in front of someone who had eyes on you for a long time."

"Fucking unbelievable." Levi grumbled, causing Hange to giggle before rolling over so she was just over his face. A serious look suddenly taking over her features.

"I love you, Levi. You and no one else."

"I love you too, Four-Eyes." Levi whispered back, placing a hand to the back of her head to bring her closer to him. "Who else can drive me as insane as you?"

And with it, they melted into a kiss.

[innytoes]

They cut your grilled cheese into triangles, that means they're in love with you, bro for Alex/Reggie

Having his ex-boyfriend become his best friend was kind of weird. Because yeah, at one point Alex had drawn little hearts in his notebooks that read 'Willie Mercer' and 'Alex Throckmorton' and he'd dithered for ages about which of those sounded better even though he'd been too scared to ask Willie to prom.

They had gone to prom together. And then over the summer they'd realised that yeah, they cared for each other, but they weren't really in love with each other. So they'd ended up as mildly co-dependent friends. Willie still crawled through his window at midnight sometimes because he needed cuddles, and Alex still had him as his first emergency contact because Willie was the only one who could keep him from going down an anxiety rabbit-hole.

Well, besides Reggie.

Which brought him to his current dilemma.

"Dude, Reggie is not in love with me," he told Willie. Just because Alex had a crush on his band mate, didn't mean said band mate felt the same way. Willie was just encouraging him to get back out there, like the good friend he was. But dating sites freaked Alex out, and blind dates sounded like a disaster - no Carrie, I will not let you set me up with Heather's sister's friend's cousin, I don't care how hot he is - but Alex didn't want to risk messing up the band just because he was in love with Reggie.

Maybe it would pass. His two week crush on Bobby back when they were fourteen had.

(He ignored the little voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Willie, pointing out that his crush on Reggie had been going strong for over a year now.)

"He cuts your grilled cheese into triangles," Willie stated with so much confidence Alex had to wonder what it was like to be that certain about anything in life. "That means he's in love with you."

"That's not... what?"

"Just look for it," Willie made him promise. Which he did, because well, it was hard to deny Willie anything.

It wasn't every weekend that Reggie made them grilled cheeses after practice, but it was often enough. Reggie was the grilled cheese master, effortlessly combining flavours and cheeses together to make everyone a personalised masterpiece suited to their taste. Ray happily gave up his kitchen in return for a perfectly melted Monterey Jack-Cheddar with just the right amount of mustard.

So Alex watched Reggie make the grilled cheeses. That wasn't unusual, they usually hung out in the kitchen while he did his thing, but this time, Alex really watched. Willie's ham-cheese-pineapple? Cut in half. Luke's American-Mozzarella? In half. Flynn's got a little ramekin of ketchup on the side, and was cut into squares. Bobby's weird vegan cheese one with vegan mayo on the outside to make it golden brown? Squares. Julie? Squares. Carlos? Half.

But Alex' grilled cheese, a Gouda-cheddar with just the tiniest bit of mozzarella? It was cut into triangles.

It was also the one Reggie always made last, right before his own. So they'd have time in the kitchen together when the others inevitably drifted away, back to the studio or home or to their rooms.

And yeah, maybe Alex always kind of offered to help with clean-up, so they could spend even more time together. But that didn't mean anything, did it?

Except when he looked over to Reggie and their fingers brushed when Reggie handed him a plate to dry, he blushed. And Alex thought that maybe, just maybe, Willie could be right. But he had to know.

"Hey Reg? Why do you cut my grilled cheese into triangles?" he asked, before he could chicken out.

Reggie turned back to the dishes, burying his hands in the suds, his ears bright red.

"It's what you do for the people you're in love with," he said quietly.

It was obnoxious, the way Willie gloated in his best man speech five years later.

[clarepreed]

Protect

Story Content and Summary - 9,394 words. Larissa grows stronger and healthier as she and Mitchell recoup on a private beach in Hawaii. When they choose to return home for Kieran's wedding, however, events take a violent turn. Explicit sex, violence, blood, mention of self-unaliving, drowning, hypovolemic shock, on-site resuscitation, resuscitation in a moving ambulance, resuscitation in the Emergency Department.

Previous installment: Lifeguard Not On Duty Disclaimer: Some references will not make sense if you have not read certain stories in the series. Ask in the comments if you'd like to know which ones to read.

--

Mitchell pulled away from the curb, looking for a parking space. Larissa appeared to be running late, and other cars were piling up behind him.

He tried calling her again, but the call went straight to voicemail. She’d told him that the building had a big dead zone in the middle. She might still be in physical therapy, or had stepped into the bathroom.

“This is Larissa Anders-Colton. Please leave your name, number, and a brief message and I’ll return your call when I’m able. Thank you!”

Mitchell decided to go inside and look for her. Her doctors back home had helped her find this place when she’d expressed interest in taking up running again. The facility was attached to a hospital, and the staff trained to deal with medical emergencies. She was undoubtedly fine. Her asthma was doing better, she hadn’t had a seizure since the episode where she cut her arm, and her ICD/pacemaker had not needed to perform either function in a long time.

Still, Mitchell worried.

I’ll just take a look. She might have lost track of time. That’s happened more often since…

Mitchell hurried back to the entrance and inside. He usually walked her in for her appointments, so he knew where to go. Hurrying across the lobby, he skipped the bank of elevators and slipped into the stairwell.

He told himself not to hurry, but by the time he started up the second set of steps, he was taking them two at a time. Breathing hard, he burst out onto the third floor, his eyes looking for any sign of distress or an emergency.

Instead, as he approached the gallery of windows that made up one wall of the physical therapy gym, he spotted Larissa. Upright, and running on a treadmill.

She hadn’t noticed him; her eyes were on her physical therapist, who was talking to her animatedly, his hands moving in the air. Larissa was flushed and sweaty, but she looked relaxed. She’d braided her long hair down her back and it swung back and forth with each stride. Across the room was a wall of mirrors, and Mitchell could see her from behind, her ass a masterpiece in leggings.

He stood frozen in his tracks, his eyes shifting back to her face. She smiled at the trainer, face shining in the lights above. Rivulets of sweat trickled down her neck, running into her cleavage. Her sports bra was doing a lot of heavy lifting; her large, natural breasts were barely jiggling as she ran.

Mitchell felt a powerful combination of relief, lust, and pride as he watched his wife. He heaved a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders, letting his arms dangle loose by his sides.

God, I wish we were home so I could steth her right now.

The trainer reached across the front of the treadmill and the belt slowed until Larissa was walking. She clasped the bar with one hand and snagged her towel with the other, quickly blotting her face and heaving chest. That’s when she noticed Mitchell, and he saw the sweetest, happiest smile spread across her face.

Then she gestured for him to come in.

By the time Mitchell reached her, the trainer was handing Larissa a bottle of water. She pressed it to her chest and exclaimed: “Mitchell! Did you see? I ran a mile!”

“I did, baby! That’s amazing. You look so happy!” Mitchell reached out and put his hand on top of hers where she gripped the safety bar.

“She’s doing great,” the trainer said. “Won’t be long until you’re jogging around the island.”

“You can come with me, Mitchell,” Larissa said. Then she winked. “If you can keep up.”

Before long, they walked together out to their SUV. Though she was doing exceptionally well with her balance, Mitchell helped her climb into the vehicle. This gave him the opportunity to kiss her. He gently pressed her into the seat, one hand cupping her cheek and the other curving around the side of her ribcage.

Her skin was tacky with drying sweat, and her body felt warm to the touch. She made a surprised noise against his mouth and then reached up to run her fingers into his hair 

When they came up for air, she murmured: “I don’t smell very good.”

“Mmm…” Mitchell kissed her jaw up to her ear, sliding his hand further up her ribcage until his hand rested on the damp band of her sports bra. Her hair smelled strongly of shampoo despite the sweat, and he nuzzled the damp short hairs at her temple.

Larissa tipped her head back, opening up the long line of her neck. Mitchell kissed his way down her warm skin, marking a path down to the top of her breast. She let out a low, breathy moan and Mitchell smiled against her bosom.

“What do you say we get home and hop in the shower?” he murmured. Before she could respond, he slipped both of his hands down her body and pushed her legs apart. Then he rubbed her through her leggings, where she’d soaked them through with sweat and arousal.

Her chest heaved, and she gasped out: “God, home feels so far away right this second.”

A car drove by where he’d parked, and Mitchell curved protectively over Larissa, blocking her spread legs and flushed face from the driver. 

Larissa giggled and kissed his cheek. “I guess we should go home so we don’t get arrested for getting busy in the hospital parking lot. And I do need a shower before we go any further. Surely I’m about to knock you out with fumes.”

Mitchell leaned back and brought his hand up to his face, making eye contact with her and inhaling deeply. “That would be a good way to go.”

Larissa’s eyes went wide, and she made a shocked noise. “God, you always find new ways to shock me and turn me on.”

Mitchell gave her a quick, hard kiss before he shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

When they got home, it didn’t take them long to end up in the bathroom, where Mitchell undid Larissa’s braid. Then they stripped down and hopped into the shower together. 

“Let me wash you,” he murmured, reaching for the pouf and squirting a generous dollop of body wash into it before sudsing it between his hands. He started with her back, carefully sweeping her hair to the front. He washed her entire body like this, gliding the pouf in slow circles over her ass and thighs, under her arms and around her breasts. He spent a lot of time on her breasts, teasing her nipples with the mesh before running the pouf down her abdomen. She sat on the bench and closed her eyes, leaning against the shower wall as he washed her legs and feet.

Mitchell sat the pouf on the bench and rinsed the soap off his hands before reaching in and pushing her knees apart. He washed her vulva with warm water, looking up at her face as he rubbed and stroked her. When he finished, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Then he washed her hair, surprising her by remembering which products she used and in what order.

While her conditioner was soaking in, Larissa took the pouf and washed Mitchell in return. She stood very close, brushing her breasts against him or leaning in to kiss his neck and chest. They moved into the stream of water to rinse off, and Larissa let the pouf fall to the shower floor, her hands coming up to rake through her hair.

Mitchell pressed her back against the shower wall, his fingers linking with hers and pulling her arms above her head. Her breasts rose deliciously, hardened nipples pressing into his chest. Mitchell gave her a deep kiss, plunging his tongue into her mouth. Then he kissed along her jawline to her ear and sucked on her lobe. Larissa mewled, her chest heaving and her hips jerking forward against him. 

Mitchell nibbled on her soft flesh, then kissed his way down her neck and along her collarbone. He kissed her scar and the lump of her ICD. Then he lifted his head and found her panting mouth, kissing her hard. He released her hands, and she brought them to the sides of his face, then ran them down to his shoulders, gently urging him back.

“Sit,” Larissa cooed, pressing him toward the shower bench.

Mitchell backed up until he felt the bench against his legs, then sat, sliding his hands down Larissa’s curvy body. She sank in front of him, her hands gripping his thighs and pushing them wide. Larissa leaned forward and took him into her mouth, her eyes capturing his and earning her a low groan. 

His hands lightly grasped her head, though he resisted the urge to move her head up and down his cock. Instead, he concentrated on watching her face, on her full lips wrapped around him. On the sensation of her tongue stroking the underside of his cock and then sliding around his glans. His lips parted and he let out a moan.

Larissa released his legs and reached between his thighs to cup his balls. Then she took him deep into her mouth, deeper than she was usually willing to go. 

“Fuck!” Mitchell felt his abs and ass clench. He tried to breathe slowly, tried closing his eyes so he couldn’t see how she looked with his cock deep in her mouth. After a bit, however, he wrenched his eyes open and grasped her shoulders. “God, baby. You have to stop; I want you in bed.”

Larissa let him slip from her mouth. Her hands rubbed up and down his thighs. “Are you sure? I’m certainly enjoying myself.” Larissa licked her bottom lip, then lifted her hands from his thighs and cupped her heavy breasts, thumbs circling her nipples.

“Larissa… if it wouldn’t be hard on my knees, I would fuck you on the shower floor.”

Larissa responded by running one hand down her body and between her thighs. Mitchell bent over and cupped her face, kissing her hard. They rose together, and Mitchell managed to turn off the water and open the shower door without either of them falling down.

Larissa shivered when the bathroom air rushed into the enclosed space, and Mitchell reached out to snag her robe, throwing it around her shoulders. “Watch your step, baby.” 

“I have so much wet hair,” she said, laughing as she grabbed her hair towel. As she used it to squeeze the excess water from her wet locks, Mitchell stepped in close and kissed her temple, running a hand up her abdomen and cupping her right breast. Larissa let out a low moan. “We can always change the sheets after.”

He led her into the bedroom, where she dropped her bathrobe over her pillow and pulled back the comforter. She slipped into the sheets and then reached for him.

Mitchell laid down beside her and tugged her close, pulling her leg over his. His erection throbbed between them, but he reached down and cupped her sex with his hand, massaging her with his palm. Her wetness lubricated his fingers as he rubbed all around her vulva, gently increasing the pressure. 

Larissa made a noise, little more than a sharp intake of breath. He moved his hand, trailing his fingers lightly around her clit before sliding back down and slipping two fingers inside of her. She was swollen with arousal, and her legs stiffened when he penetrated her. She sucked in a breath as he curled his fingers, stroking in and out of her. 

He kept his other arm tight around her, holding her close as she began to gasp and moan. The heel of his hand ground into her clit. 

“Ah!” she gasped. Mitchell kept his eyes on her face, watching as her own closed and her head tipped back. Her lips parted, huffs of air panting out of her. 

Mitchell shifted his legs, using his knees to push hers wider. “You look so hot like this, baby. You feel so good in my arms. I want you to come for me.”

Larissa thrust her pelvis against his hand, driving his fingers deeper. Her body writhed against him, and she was making increasingly louder noises. 

“Come for me, baby!”

“Ah! Ah! AH!” she came apart, body convulsing with pleasure, legs shaking and her muscles gripping his fingers. Mitchell abruptly withdrew his fingers, then thrust himself inside her warm, dripping slit. Larissa arched her back and opened her mouth in an “o” of surprise. “GOD!”

Mitchell grasped her ass, pinning her in place as he drove inside. She went from trembling to meeting him thrust for thrust, her gasps of pleasure ringing in his ears.

Larissa pressed her hands against his chest and he moved onto his back, pulling her with him. She braced herself on the headboard, breasts wobbling above his head as she rode him. Mitchell ran his hands up and down her sides before reaching up to pinch her nipples.

“Yes!” Larissa moaned, her thighs rolling and her pelvis thrusting down against him. Mitchell gave her nipples a twist and then released them, running his hands down her sides to her hips. 

“You’re amazing,” Mitchell gasped. They had always had an excellent sex life, but her renewed stamina and strength were something to behold. Mitchell moved one of his hands to her pelvis, finding her clit with his thumb.

Her eyes met his, and she moaned: “I’m going to come again!”

“Good,” he growled. He thrust up into her, watched as she bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. Mitchell pulled her down to lie on top of him, grabbing her ass and pressing his feet flat to the mattress so he could pump himself rapidly in and out of her. Larissa curled her fingers into his damp hair and kissed him, her tongue plunging deep into his mouth.

Then she tore her mouth free and cried out. He felt a gush of wetness between them and kept thrusting hard as his balls tightened. Her body convulsed over and around him and he let the sound and feel of her push him over the edge. He nearly whited out as he spilled himself inside of her, releasing a loud groan of pleasure. 

Larissa went limp on top of him, her chest heaving and her fingers stroking his hair.

“Holy shit, baby!” He turned his head to kiss her cheek and heard her chuckle. Then he wrapped his arms tight around her. “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

Two days later.

Mitchell stood in the church’s narthex with the other groomsmen, waiting for Dan to walk down the aisle and for the bridesmaids to arrive. Dan bounced restlessly on the balls of his feet, his face split by an ear-to-ear smile.

“He looks more than ready,” Mitchell’s brother-in-law Mark murmured. 

“You know how it is,” Mitchell said. “Getting married. Of course, it’s something else to make it to the wedding when you thought your bride might die before you can get there.”

Mark clapped him on the shoulder. “That would add some extra weight to the proceedings, that’s for sure.”

The door between the vestibule and the narthex cracked open, and the wedding planner stuck his head in. “Ready, Dan?”

“Yes, please.”

“Go ahead down the aisle. The pianist is ready.”

The rest of the groomsmen got in order as the planner propped the door open, letting in the line of bridesmaids. First was Kieran’s best friend and maid-of-honor, Blakely, followed by her cousin, Maeve. There were four bridesmaids, but Mitchell’s attention stopped at the third.

Kieran was not the sort of bride to try to dull her bridesmaids’ beauty, though as far as Mitchell was concerned, that would have been impossible, anyway. Larissa’s long, heavy hair had been piled artfully atop her head, honeyed curls woven throughout with small braids. Her makeup was light, her earrings simple. The dress was some sort of bluish purple that Larissa described as “periwinkle silver.” It had a single wide strap that covered Larissa’s scar, then fit her well through the bust and waist before flaring out into a tulle skirt that draped to mid-calf. Her long legs looked even longer in the matching heels. In her hands, she carried a simple bouquet of white roses.

Mitchell pushed down his impatience as the first two couples entered the church. Then he was beside Larissa, linking elbows with her. He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss.

“You look gorgeous. Stunning.”

“Thank you, handsome.”

The wedding seemed to fly by. As Kieran and Dan gave their vows, Mitchell leaned slightly to the side, trying to spot Larissa. To his delight, she was leaning around to look for him as well. He saw her face light up and winked at her.

After the wedding, photos, and reception at a nearby hotel, after Dan and Kieran’s sendoff, Mitchell and Larissa gathered their things and met in the hotel lobby.

“How tired are you, baby?” Mitchell asked. “Do you want to walk or should we take an Uber?”

“It’s a beautiful night. We just have these two bags…” Larissa looked over at him. “Are you okay to walk? I have my sneakers, but you’re still in dress shoes.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s less than a mile. Or right at a mile. These shoes really aren’t so bad.” Mitchell held out his arm. “I know I said this before, baby, but you look absolutely gorgeous.”

Larissa took his arm, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “A very handsome man such as yourself needs some arm candy.”

“Want to stop at the fountain in the courtyard on our way out?”

“Please, I bet it’s beautiful at night.”

They walked together slowly, arm in arm. Mitchell had tucked his tux jacket into his backpack along with his bowtie. Larissa was still wearing her bridesmaid dress, but she’d slipped on a brand new pair of running shoes, gifted to her by Kieran. Aside from the shoes and her backpack slung over one shoulder, Mitchell thought she looked just as perfect as she had when he’d first seen her at the ceremony.

The south exit took them into the courtyard, where a large fountain splashed quietly in the center. The lighting along the edge of the building was bright enough for safety, but there were no lamps around the fountain. Instead, the fountain itself was illuminated. This night, the LEDs were rainbow hued, almost pastel through the water.

“Oh!” Larissa exclaimed, squeezing his arm. “That’s right, it’s June first in a couple of hours! Happy Pride, honey!”

“Thank you, baby.” Mitchell smiled, watching the colors ripple as they approached. “Thank you for that.”

“You didn’t stop being bi just because we got married.” Larissa sighed. “I really love how this looks. It’s so happy!”

“I wonder if a selfie would come out,” Mitchell mused. “We could try!”

“I have an idea! I can light us with my phone and you’ll take the picture. Your arms are longer.”

They dropped their bags on the pavers and sat on the lip of the basin, one arm wrapped around the other’s back. Larissa blinded them with the flashlight on her phone, giggling until she got it positioned where she wanted it. 

“Alright, honey!”

Mitchell took several shots. For the last one they kissed, Mitchell clumsily pressing the shutter button and hoping for the best.

“How are they?” Larissa asked, hastily turning her flashlight off. “That was fun either way. Other than when I scarred our retinas.”

“Let’s lo—”

“Larissa!” A man’s voice interrupted them. Mitchell blinked away the remaining spots in his vision, confused as Larissa stiffened beside him. She lurched to her feet, pulling herself out of his grasp before he could register what was happening.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. Larissa’s voice hissed out of her, a tone Mitchell had never heard before. Then he was on his feet, part of his brain reacting to the man approaching them before the rest of his consciousness caught up.

Ben Miller.

“Get out of here,” Mitchell snarled. “Unless you’re staying at the hotel or attending an event here, you’re trespassing.”

Ben looked much older than Mitchell remembered. His hair was shaggy, growing over his ears and onto his collar. He’d also grown a salt-and-pepper beard since they’d last seen him in court.

Larissa gestured toward their bags. “We’ll go. I don’t care what the fuck you do.”

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Ben said. Mitchell realized the other man had one of his hands in his pockets.

“Larissa—” he started, but Ben cut him off.

“I’m not here to hurt her! I realize now my anger was misplaced.” Ben laughed. “I did a lot of reading. Did you know how unethical it was for you to come on to your subordinate like that, Mitchell? And you got away with it. I haven’t heard shit from the media about how you used your power to seduce one of your employees. And then I took it out on HER when I should have gone after YOU!”

“Let’s just go, Mitchell.” Larissa took another step forward toward their bags. Mitchell’s phone was in his hand, and he wondered if he’d be able to call 9-1-1 before anything happened.

Ben pulled his hand out of his pocket and dragged out a handgun.

Everything began to move at rain pace, faster than Mitchell could process. Ben lunged forward. Mitchell reached for Larissa, only for her to throw herself in front of him. He heard a terrible crack, then a second. Larissa twisted violently. Another crack. Mitchell heard a splash, and then he registered a white hot pain across his side.

“I didn’t want to hurt her!” Ben groaned. “FUCK! Why did she do that?!”

Mitchell dropped his phone and clapped his hand to his side. Ben shot again, but he was on the move and the bullet whizzed past Mitchell’s head. Mitchell flinched and tripped over his own feet, limbs sprawling and his head bouncing off the pavers.

His vision filled with stars.

Get up!

He couldn’t seem to gather his wits enough to move.

Get up!

Larissa…

The night fell silent.

Mitchell pushed himself up onto his hands and knees with a groan. The right side of his face throbbed and stung, and pain knifed down the left side of his ribcage. His mind screamed at him that there was danger, but when he looked around, he didn’t see Ben anywhere. 

“Larissa!” he shouted, turning toward the fountain.

Larissa lay on her back in the basin, submerged and unmoving, eyes unfocused and open. A dark cloud of blood surrounded her. One foot was propped up out of the water, her sneaker caught on the edge.

“NO!” Mitchell crawled into the fountain and thrashed over to her, the pain in his head and his side fading as pure, undiluted panic flooded him.

Dead dead dead dead dead—

Mitchell grabbed her shoulders and heaved her upper body out of the water. The weight of her sodden updo pulled her head back at a sharp angle, and he could see the whites of her eyes below her irises. He cradled her against his arm and tried to get hold of himself, sucking in a deep breath and screaming: “HELP!” before he dragged in another.

He didn’t bother listening or feeling for breath. Instead, he closed her mouth with his free hand and hunched over her, his mouth sealing over her nose.

Mitchell had been learning more about CPR and first aid, no longer content with what they taught at the annual CPR refresher. He gave Larissa a breath through her nose, watching for her still chest to rise. The breath was difficult to get in, but he kept trying, four more times, while her chest barely rose and his lips spluttered from the force.

You weren’t in there long enough to pull much water in, baby! What the fuck?!

Mitchell tried to lift her, one arm under her shoulders and the other beneath her knees. Weakened from his injuries and weighed down by their wet clothing, he tipped over on top of her, briefly submerging them both.

Mitchell reared back, jerking her torso up with him. He spat to clear his mouth and then shouted again: “HELP, GOD DAMMIT!”

Mitchell slipped in behind her, bringing his arms around her limp body and just under her breasts, clenching his hands into a fist. His fist found her sternum, and he pulled his hands in sharply. Pain blossomed down his side, but he ignored it, pulling hard and at the same pace as prone chest compressions. Larissa made a watery, wheezing sound with each thrust of his fist.

“…seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve…” Mitchell compressed her body back against his chest, feeling her ribcage flex beneath his fist. Her arms swung limp, and her head hung forward and slightly to the side, pulled by the weight of her hair. When he glanced down, he realized one or both of them still bled profusely; Larissa’s dress was soaked down the left side and the stain in the water had grown.

“Thirty!” Mitchell shifted her again in his arms, draping her over his knees and letting her head fall back. There was blood on her chest, and when he looked closer, he realized it was coming from a wound near her ICD. Mitchell clapped a shaking hand over the bloody tear, pressing hard. Then he wrapped his other arm around her head, holding her mouth closed as he leaned in to give her another breath. This time, he felt her breasts rise against his arm. A small amount of water gushed up into his mouth and he spat to the side before giving her another breath.

 That’s when he saw her arm. Limp as it was, he could still see it hung at an awkward angle. And the blood… he’d never seen someone bleed like that in real life. It was streaming from her arm, pulsing slightly as it exited her body.

“FUCK!” Mitchell moved his hand from her chest to her arm, clenching his hand tightly around the wound. “HELP! IN THE COURTYARD!”

Blood oozed between his fingers, and he stared at it, realizing that the pulsing meant that her heart was still beating. For now. If she bled out or didn’t start breathing again, her heart would stop.

Mitchell hunched over her awkwardly, sealing his lips over her nose again. He gave her a breath and felt her chest rise. Breathing for her, even through her nose, was noticeably easier now, her breasts swelling with each breath. He blew into her every three seconds, his eyes darting back and forth from her face to her arm to her chest. Her skin felt cool to the touch despite the warm night air; he assumed it was due to blood loss and the fountain water.

Every tenth breath, Mitchell tipped her head to the side, letting water and a small amount of froth trickle from her nose and mouth. Then he tipped her head back again, sealed her mouth, and blew into her nostrils. 

As he was giving her breath, Larissa jerked in his arms, her chest heaving and water coming up out of her nose. Mitchell pulled her as upright as he could, watching in relief when her lips parted and she coughed up a small amount of fountain water. She gagged and opened her eyes, staring wildly out at the night sky.

“I’ve got you, baby. Larissa, I’ve got you. He’s gone—”

“Hello?” A man’s voice called out from somewhere outside of Mitchell’s range of vision. Mitchell froze for several seconds until he realized the voice didn’t belong to Ben Miller.

Larissa let out a low moan, stirring against him. She tried to pull her arm out of his grasp, but the movement just made her back bow from the pain. She gasped and started coughing again. The coughs were weak and wet, her shoulders jerking.

“IN THE FOUNTAIN!” Mitchell bellowed. “WE’VE BEEN SHOT! CALL 9-1-1!”

“Mitchell…” Larissa gasped his name, her head sagging back and then rolling to the side. “Mitch…ell… You…”

Her eyelids fluttered. She coughed between rapid breaths, and what he could see of her face and lips looked chalky.

“Shh, baby. You don’t have to talk!” A frightening amount of blood was still leaking out around his fingers. Mitchell took his other hand and wrapped both of them around the bleeding wounds in her arm, just above her elbow. Then he squeezed with all of his strength.

Larissa made a noise, a shriek so forceful it was actually silent, her mouth gaping and her body shuddering in his arms. 

“I’m sorry!” he gasped, her pain wracking his own body with a wave of anguish. “Shh, baby, it’s… I’m so sorry! FUCK!”

She shuddered in his arms, her teeth chattering and her breaths coming faster.

“In the fountain!” a woman shouted. “Looks like two people!”

“We need an ambulance! My wife is bleeding to death!” Mitchell regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth; he needed someone to help them, but saying such a thing made his own body tremble.

“Mmm…” Larissa moaned, her head lolling against his chest. “Mmmm… Mitch… Mitch… M-Mitchell…”

“Larissa, shh, baby.”

“C-cold…”

Mitchell heard shoes on the concrete and then people splashed into the fountain with them. A man and a woman that he vaguely recognized but couldn’t place.

“Someone from the hotel called 9-1-1. Everyone was afraid to come out after the shots,” the woman said. “But staff’s bringing blankets. They’ll be out in a minute!”

“Gunman’s gone?” asked the man. “I hear sirens…”

“You… o… k-kay?” Larissa asked, her voice high-pitched and shaky.

“I’m okay, Larissa!” Mitchell pressed a kiss to her wet hair. “Please, please don’t worry…”

“We need to put something on her arm as a tourniquet,” the man said. He looked around wildly, as though something useful might materialize in the fountain.

“What about your belt?” the woman asked. Mitchell realized where he knew them from. Kieran’s wedding. He’d seen this woman in the bridal party.

“M-Maeve,” Larissa stammered. She was sagging heavily against Mitchell, unable to hold herself upright. 

“That’s right, Larissa,” the woman said, kneeling in the water. “Christ, what happened?”

Maeve’s husband stripped off his belt. “This isn’t ideal, but it’s the best we’ve got. I’m going to put it above your hands!”

The man looped his belt around her arm and threaded the end through the buckle.

“Stop…” Larissa squeaked out, weakly writhing in his arms. “D-don’t…”

“Deep breath, baby—”

The man jerked the belt tight, and Larissa made a wheezing noise and went limp against Mitchell’s chest. Mitchell released her arm, his hands hovering there in case the belt didn’t do the job. The wound oozed, black with blood, but it wasn’t pumping out blood at the rate it had before. Mitchell hoped this was because of the belt.

“Larissa!” Mitchell dropped his bloody hands into the water, scrubbing them against his pants legs before reaching up to lift her chin. Maeve reached out and held the back of her hand in front of Larissa’s mouth.

“She’s breathing!” Maeve exclaimed. “We need to get her out of the water!”

“I have to hold this belt tight,” her husband said. “But here comes hotel staff! And cops!”

The courtyard flooded with people. Mitchell couldn’t concentrate on anything except Larissa. He pressed his fingers to her carotid artery, wanting to monitor her pulse while she was unconscious. He was vaguely aware that his body shook with cold and shock. He heard some shouting, but it wasn’t until Maeve put her lips near his ear that he caught the words.

“Mitchell! Mitchell!” Maeve grabbed his arm. “This man is a doctor. The cops are going to help us get her out of the water. You need to get out, too. You’re shaking!”

Then they took her from him, a man in plain clothes and a uniformed cop, one carrying her shoulders and the other her legs, all while Maeve’s husband held tight to the belt. 

“Come on, you need to get out, too.” Maeve stood, reaching down with an outstretched hand. “I’m Kieran’s cousin. As soon as you’re out of the fountain I’m going to call her and let her know what happened.”

“Tell her to call M-Mark…”

“I will. Come on, I think the cop has a real tourniquet for her arm.”

Mitchell reached up and took her hand. She stepped close to him, grabbing his elbow with her other hand. Mitchell managed to struggle to his feet, though he swayed once he was upright.

“Ooh, don’t fall! I can’t catch you!” She turned him toward the side of the fountain, where he could see that the men had laid Larissa out on a blanket and draped a second over her legs. Mitchell sat on the side of the fountain and swung his legs around. Maeve climbed out beside him, then reached toward his side with a gasp. “Oh! That’s not just her blood. Hey, he’s bleeding, too!”

“I’m f-fine…” Mitchell pressed his hand to the bleeding wound across his ribs. “I think I was just grazed…”

A uniform cop jogged up with extra gloves and something in her hand that turned out to be an actual tourniquet. Mitchell eased himself down onto his knees, reaching for Larissa’s right hand, laying limp on the blanket. 

“…above the belt,” the doctor said. Mitchell didn’t know what kind of doctor he was, but he’d already checked her pulse and seemed confident in his directions. Someone draped a blanket across Mitchell’s shoulders as the doctor applied the tourniquet to Larissa’s injured arm, turning the windlass.

Larissa groaned, her fingers moving in Mitchell’s grasp. Her hand felt cold.

“Shh, baby.” He squeezed her hand and watched as her eyelids fluttered open. “Larissa, it’s Mitchell. There’s a doctor here and an ambulance will be here soon.”

She moved restlessly, legs working underneath the blanket. Her eyes roved the sky above them. “Thirsty…”

“I’m sorry, baby, but—”

“Where did he… go?” Larissa gasped.

“Ben ran off. He’s not here—”

“He was… g-gonna…” She stopped, talking for several seconds, eyes unfocused. Then she wheezed: “Thirsty…”

“Ma’am,” the doctor cut in. He had his hand pressed to the wound in her chest. “You’ll need surgery. I can’t give you water, but when the ambulance arrives, they will give you IV fluids and that will help.”

“We’ve got one ambulance pulling in now,” a cop said. “The second one is delayed.”

“She’s breathing very fast,” Mitchell said. “Is that from the blood loss?”

Her full lips looked bloodless, and they were slightly parted. He could see her chest rising and falling rapidly. Mitchell lifted his hand from his wounded side and turned her wrist over in his hand, pressing his fingertips to the pulse there. Or he tried to; even though Larissa’s heart was obviously beating, he couldn’t find the pulse in her wrist.

“I believe so,” the doctor said. “Here come the medics.”

“M-Mitchell…” Larissa whispered.

Mitchell leaned in with difficulty, the pain in his side making him stiff. Still, he knew the paramedics would likely make him move away from her, and he wanted to talk to her while he could. “What is it, baby?”

She briefly made eye contact with him. This close, he smelled the thick scent of iron on her. “Sell.”

“Yes… Anything you want, baby. And then we’ll buy that house in Hawaii.” A lump formed in his throat and he squeezed her hand again.

“Take… c-care of… yourself…��� Larissa closed her eyes, but he could still see her chest rising and falling.

“You’re going to be okay, Larissa. I love you!” His eyes burned, and he swallowed hard.

“Love… you…” she whispered, and her fingers twitched in his hand.

“What have we got?” A medic crouched at Larissa’s head, reaching in to take her pulse. “Ma’am?”

“Dr. Ahmad Jones, GP with Sutter Regional Healthcare. Two victims,” the doctor said. “Her name is Larissa. Two apparent gunshot wounds, one to her chest and one in her arm. This tourniquet has been on for three minutes. Prior to that, they had a belt on her arm. I haven’t examined him yet.”

“Okay, sir, we just need you to move back so we can take care of—Oh! This is our other victim.” A medic crouched next to him. “I’m just going to take her radial pulse, sir. If you could scoot back just a bit.”

“I’ll take a look at him,” the doctor said.

Mitchell squeezed her hand, then lowered it carefully to the blanket. Someone helped him move a few feet away onto another blanket, holding him up when he nearly tipped over.

“No palpable radial pulse. I’m going to get her blood pressure.” 

Dr. Jones kneeled next to Mitchell. “I’m going to look at your side if that’s okay, sir.”

“Keep pressure on the chest wound, officer.”

The voices and lights were beginning to blend and blur together. Mitchell coughed, a technique he’d learned from Larissa to raise the blood pressure. 

“She just stopped breathing!”

His ears started ringing.

“No pulse.”

“Do you want me to do chest compressions, or should I keep pressure—”

“I’m on it,” another cop said.

“One, two, three…”

Mitchell was vaguely aware of the doctor touching him, pulling his dress shirt out of the waistband of his pants. But his eyes were on Larissa. A cop leaned over Larissa, hands pumping between her breasts. Her head was tipped to the side, eyes cracked open to glinting slits. Her face looked bloodless, chin bobbing in time with the compressions.

A medic suddenly turned her face toward the sky and tipped her head back, thumbing open her mouth and slipping an oral airway between her teeth. Then he turned the plastic piece and let it rest on her teeth. By the time the cop reached the thirtieth compression, the medic had a bag-valve mask pressed to her face and squeezed the bulb twice.

The other medic was inserting an IV. It took her three tries, but before long, she had a bag connected, which she handed to another cop.

They worked between them to cut Larissa’s gown open to her navel before applying big white defibrillator pads above her right breast and below her left. They also covered her chest wound with a bandage.

“That’s not very deep, but it appears to have damaged this implanted device—”

Larissa’s stomach popped, and her shoulders shrugged with each compression. They’d cut off her strapless bra. Her breasts wobbled, her nipples stiff in the night air.

The doctor was no longer at his side; Mitchell spotted him over by the paramedics’ bags. Then his eyes dropped back to Larissa. Guilt was beginning to sink into his bones; he kept seeing the moment where she’d stepped in front of him, taking bullets meant for him.

“…get her on a pump for a norepinephrine infusion.”

“…fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!”

The doctor was at his side again. “I’m just going to bandage you up quickly. You’ll need an X-ray and stitches…”

“One, two, three, four…” The cop’s shoulders bobbed sharply over Larissa’s chest.

“How’s the husband?”

“He needs to be monitored for shock.”

Mitchell’s brain seemed to crawl. It ticked back to the comment about the implanted device. “Her ICD. It’s damaged?”

“I can’t be sure,” Dr. Jones replied. “But it did appear to be damaged to me. It was visible inside the wound. They’ve given her medications to bring up her blood pressure, and with chest compressions—”

“Pause compressions to analyze.”

Mitchell watched her chest rise and fall as the medic squeezed the bag. To his surprise, he heard someone say: “Sinus brady. Is she breathing on her own?”

He closed his eyes and slouched. He was shivering harder again, but he didn’t have the energy to pull the blanket tighter around his shoulders.

“No, I’m continuing ventilations.” The medic reached over and dragged a bag closer. “I’m going to suction her.”

“I’m pushing one milligram atropine. Go ahead and intubate after you suction, I don’t like her oxygen saturation.”

“Mitchell, how are you feeling?” the doctor asked.

“She’s B negative,” Mitchell whispered.

The voices continued around him.

“What happened to their other bus?”

“They just happened to be around the corner from an apparent 10-56. White male subject with a gun.”

“We’ll take him with us.”

“Mitchell? Mitchell? Hey, do you have another blood pressure cuff?”

“—our White male subject?”

“…administered. She—”

Underneath Mitchell’s eyelids, everything turned white.

“Mitch—”

“—goes!”

Hands laid him flat on his back and opened his airway.

“Is he breathing?”

“He going too, or—wait for—”

Everything dissolved. His surroundings, the blanket and concrete beneath him. His clothing. His body. Larissa and the medics working on her. His company. His family. His name. All that remained was emotion. Love, hatred, hope, despair.

Then there was nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Mitchell woke to the sensation of movement and the smell of a medical facility.

“ETA is four minutes.”

“Are you going to get in trouble for bringing us along?”

“Probably, but they should have dispatched another ambulance.”

“He’s waking up. Sir? Mitchell?” Someone touched his arm. Mitchell peeled open his eyes and gazed bleary-eyed up at the doctor from before. The man was seated on a bench near his head. “Mitchell?”

“Something’s wrong,” Mitchell muttered. He was laying flat, and when he tried to move he realized he was strapped to a backboard.

“You’re in an ambulance,”

Mitchell looked to the side. 

Larissa lay beside him, strapped to a gurney. She was partially covered with a sheet, her gruesome wounds hidden from sight. A paramedic sat at her head. She looked drained of blood. Her long neck had been extended to open her airway, and a tube jutted out from between her teeth, held in place by a plastic tube holder. The paramedic squeezed the attached bulb every five or six seconds, making her chest rise.

As he watched, an alarm started bleeping.

The medic leaned forward to look, then quickly detached the bag and set it on the gurney. 

“Tell them we have a code!” he called out toward the front. “Female patient!”

As Mitchell watched, the medic stood and moved in between Mitchell and Larissa. He yanked the sheet down to her waist and then reached up for the grab bar with one hand. Then he pressed the heel of his other hand between Larissa’s breasts. Mitchell jerked his head and shoulders up, trying to see what was going on as the medic started one-handed compressions.

“One, two, three…” To the medic’s credit, Mitchell thought the compressions looked good despite being one-handed in a moving vehicle. Larissa’s breasts shook and her stomach bulged with each pump of her sternum. Mitchell could hear the gurney rattle in time with the compressions. “…fifteen, sixteen, seventeen…”

“Mitchell, if you’re okay, I’m going to help with CPR,” the doctor said.

“Go!” Mitchell croaked out beneath his mask. Tears welled in his eyes, and he had to blink them away to clear his vision. The doctor moved from one seat to the other and somewhat clumsily reattached the bag.

“…twenty-seven, twenty-eight…”

“Don’t pause!” the doctor said. “I’ve got it!”

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten! One, two, three, four…”

Mitchell’s shoulders shook with tension and he was forced to drop his head back onto the backboard. He could still see the side of Larissa’s face. There was blood in her hair, dried in the short hairs along her temple and dotted inside the shell of her ear. Her head rocked gently from side to side until the doctor reached out to steady it.

“Two minutes. They’re ready for us.”

The medic switched hands, turning slightly and opening up Mitchell’s view. The breast nearest to Mitchell wobbled, her skin there frighteningly pale aside from her dusky nipple and scattering of freckles.

His hearing was going again, fireflies moved across his line of sight. He coughed hard, winced in pain.

“-ell? Are you—Mitchell?”

“—ten. One—three, four, five—”

“I’m fine,” Mitchell muttered. He bent his hand into a shaky thumbs up. “Fine… fine… Help her. Help Larissa…”

His ears suddenly latched onto the alarm screaming, to the thumping and rattling sound of the gurney. To the slightly out of breath counting of the medic. To the whoosh of the bag-valve mask. To the tires of the ambulance, thudding over a speed bump.

“Please, baby…” he whispered.

Then he closed his eyes and drifted.

He opened them in a long, ivory hallway lined down one side with open windows. A steady breeze blew gauzy curtains into the space, periodically obscuring his view. Sometimes, if the timing was right, he spotted Larissa. She walked away from him, nude, her long hair blowing in the breeze. At the far end of the hall, flickering in and out of sight, was a staticky black hole.

“Larissa!” he called out.

She didn’t stop walking; in fact, the next time she got a good look at her, he realized she was running. Away from him and toward the desolate blackness ahead.

“Don’t!” he shouted. “Larissa, don’t!”

She stopped, and the vision glitched. He found himself standing in front of a window. Larissa stood outside, naked and bleeding from an uncountable number of wounds. Behind her, he could see the ocean.

“It hurts,” she whispered. A tear rolled down her cheek.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m selfish. Please, don’t leave,” he begged. “Trust me. It gets better.”

Mitchell woke with a start. A bright light blinded him, and when he reached up to shield his eyes, he found himself dragging IV tubing and a pulse oximeter.

“…PEA arrest. Administer one milligram epinephrine. Helen, take over compressions.” The voice came from the other side of a room-dividing curtain.

“Larissa…” Mitchell whispered.

“Sir? Mitchell?” A young man stepped into Mitchell’s line of sight. “I’m Raymond. How are you feeling?”

“My wife…”

“She’s in good hands, Mitchell. You were unconscious when they brought you in. Can you follow my finger?”

Mitchell watched the nurse move his finger from side to side.

“I’m told there are some people in the waiting room for you. Your brother?”

“How…” Mitchell suddenly remembered Maeve, Kieran’s cousin. She was going to call Kieran, and Kieran would have called Mark.

“You’re going to have to go for a few scans, and then your brother can come in, okay?”

“My wife…”

“I promise, the doctor will come speak with you as soon as possible.” The nurse glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back soon, or someone will be in to take you for an X-ray, okay?”

Mitchell waited until he was sure he was gone, then he reached up and removed his oxygen mask, dropping it to the side. He pushed the sheet back, kicking it off with difficulty. They’d cut his shirt off and applied a large bandage to his side. He pressed his hand there, groaning involuntarily as he sat up. Then he swung his feet over the side of the bed and grasped hold of his IV tree.

When he stood, the room canted dangerously around him. He gritted his teeth and tensed his legs until his vision cleared. Then he shuffled toward the curtain dividing his bay from Larissa’s. Trembling fingers grasped the edge and pulled it back, just far enough for him to see what was happening.

The sight could have been from his worst nightmare.

Larissa, naked on the hospital bed. A nurse stood on a step facing him, her hands forcing Larissa’s breastbone deep at a rapid clip. Her bloodied breasts wobbled with each pump. A doctor or resident in a white coat stood at Larissa’s head, giving her breaths through her tube. Another tube had been threaded down her left nostril. White pads with a plastic puck in the center covered a large swath of her chest, along with a soiled bandage over the wound above her heart.

To the side, he saw another person in scrubs adjusting a machine. It looked like an IV tree on steroids, with twin bags hanging at the top. Another nurse stood to his side, updating information on a computer. A surprising number of people were in the room, but to Mitchell’s relief, no one noticed his eye trained on the evidently lifeless form of his wife. 

He would never get used to the sight. Air forced in and out of her. Her sternum used to pump her heart. Her shoulders shrugging and her stomach popping up each time her chest was forced down. It was undeniably worse with the blood.

He wasn’t going hurt her.

Or so he said.

He just wanted to hurt me.

I should have grabbed her arm and pulled her behind me. I should have told her to run.

Fuck. She wouldn’t have run.

The knowledge that someone could love him enough to die for him cut deep.

“In thirty seconds we’re going to do a rhythm check, and then Charles will take over compressions.”

Helen bobbed relentlessly over Larissa, unfazed by the alarms or the people bustling around her. Her lips moved, counting in time with the metronome beeping out a morbid rhythm. 

“They’re holding an OR for her if you achieve return of spontaneous circulation.”

“Pause compressions for a rhythm check.”

Helen lifted her hands, breathing hard as she stepped down and to the side. A man replaced her, his eyes moving to the monitor.

“That’s v-fib!”

The man immediately bent over Larissa, rolling his shoulders into place and rocking his weight into her sternum.

“Charge to three-sixty.”

The man pumped her chest ten times and then Mitchell heard someone say: “Clear. Everyone clear.”

The man performing chest compressions lifted his hands and the woman at her head unhooked the bag.

“Administering shock.” Larissa’s chest jerked, her back flinching slightly up off the bed and her damaged arm flopping to the side. Immediately, Charles the nurse began pumping her chest again, his hands forcing the pad in the center of her chest down. 

“Push harder!” A robotic voice commanded. Charles complied, bringing his shoulders over his hands and making Larissa’s stomach bulge.

“What’s her blood pressure?”

Mitchell’s fist came up to his mouth, pressing so hard against his lips that his teeth dug into the inside. 

“Seventy over fifty-five.”

The hospital bed squeaked as Charles thrust his hands down over and over again. Down, sinking her chest and popping her abdomen. Up, her ribcage springing back and her stomach deflating. The whoosh of ventilations several seconds apart and between compressions.

Mitchell leaned against the wall, trying to make sure he didn’t move the curtain and call attention to himself. He felt nauseated; knew he should go lay down. Knew the second a nurse or doctor walked in, he’d be in trouble.

Come back, baby. Please. I don’t want to do it without you.

“Rhythm check in thirty seconds. Helen, you can take over for Jane. Jane, you’ll be on compressions.”

Pump and pump and pump and pump…

Mitchell’s side hurt with each breath he took, so he tried to breathe shallowly. He could feel his heart galloping in his chest.

“Alright. Pause compressions. Rhythm is showing as… sinus tachycardia. Good job, folks. Helen, keep up ventilations. Jane, call the OR and tell them she’s headed their way. Ask about a cooling vest.” The doctor speaking walked through Mitchell’s line of sight. “The husband is next door?”

Shit.

Mitchell cast one more glance at Larissa. She still looked to be at death’s door, and he wished he could talk to her, or at her, before they took her away. Mitchell eased backward, trying subtlely to release the curtain.

“Ah… Looks like the husband is watching us right now.”

Busted.

Mitchell pushed open the curtain. “You’re about to take her for surgery, right?” His voice sounded gravelly.

“Sir—”

“I just want to talk to her before you take her. Is there time?” Mitchell drew himself up to his full height, gritting his teeth against the pain. Then he forced himself to unlock his jaw and quietly asked: “Please?”

The doctor nodded and hurried forward, reaching for Mitchell’s arm. “Yes. You have a short minute, but I want to make sure you don’t fall.”

Mitchell let the doctor escort him to Larissa’s side. The nurse was still squeezing the bag regularly, making Larissa’s chest rise and fall. He’d ended up on her wounded side, so he rested his hand on the top of her head, his thumb falling on her forehead. Mitchell leaned close to her ear. 

“Baby, it’s Mitchell. Stay with us, okay? I don’t want to do all those things without you. Pull through and I promise I will sell and we will do anything you want. I don’t care what it is as long as I can be with you, okay? I love you.” Mitchell pressed his lips to her temple. When he finally pulled back, he looked up at the doctor. “Make sure they take good care of her.”

Days later

Larissa stirred.

She had a talent for waking up after most of her visitors had gone. She’d been in and out for most of the day, mumbling nonsense and crying when she was awake.

Mitchell suspected this time would be no different, but he was still excited to see her move of her own accord. It was much better than the first time he’d seen her after her first surgery, laying so still, pale and cold and on a ventilator. She’d gotten off the ventilator quickly and had two more surgeries. He was looking forward to her being coherent enough for him to be sure his Larissa really had survived.

Her eyelids fluttered, and she grimaced, letting out a quiet cry.

“Hey…” Mitchell squeezed her hand and stood, wincing at the pain in his ribs. He leaned over her as much as he could, wanting to keep hold of her hand but knowing he was on the same side as her bad ear. “Larissa, you’re safe. You’re in the hospital. It’s Mitchell. I’m safe, too.”

Larissa cracked open her eyes, her slightly swollen lids nearly obscuring her irises. 

“Hey, baby.” Mitchell squeezed her hand, speaking loudly. He reached in with his other hand and ran his knuckles down her cheek.

Larissa leaned into his touch, and Mitchell sucked in a sharp breath. It was the first time she’d reacted to anyone’s attempts to comfort her.

“Mitchell…” Her voice was hoarse. Her eyes opened wider. “Mitchell…”

“I’m here! I love you!” He cupped her cheek. “How do you feel?”

She blinked a few times, then let out a huff of air that almost sounded like a groan. “N-not great…”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

“Ben Miller.” Her voice was flat.

Mitchell squeezed her hand again. “We never have to worry about him again, Larissa. He’s dead. He… hurt himself. He’s dead.”

“You’re… okay?” her brow furrowed. 

“I’m okay. I’m okay… You…” Mitchell’s voice went wobbly, and he cleared his throat. “You saved me, Larissa.”

She seemed to ponder this for a long time before she spoke again. “I owed you one.”

Mitchell snorted, and then, to his dismay, he started crying. He hunched over their clasped hands, gasping as tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Come… here…” Her hand weakly tugged at his. Mitchell tipped forward, his face pressing into her good shoulder. Larissa whispered: “Ahhh, honey. It’s okay…”

“We’re selling the company,” Mitchell said, his voice muffled.

“What?”

He took a shuddering breath and turned his head so that his lips weren’t pressed into her hospital gown. “We’re selling the company. And we’ll buy that house in Hawaii. Shit, that can be our main home.”

He lifted his head to see if she understood him.

“Good,” she whispered. She looked exhausted, but the ache in his chest was dissipating the more obvious it became that she was still herself.

“Larissa…”

“I know.” She took a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

--

The story continues in: Saving Mitchell

[khaotungsfirst]

khaotungsfirst’s 2023 BL recap

Alright, I know I'm late but it’s the time of the year again where I post my favorite BLs of the year even though no one cares about my opinion lmao. Buckle up cause this is gonna be long...

Top Thai BLs

I Feel You Linger In The Air

What a breath of fresh air this was! Not only was the romance top-notch, I was also really invested in the plot and what was happening to other characters. The wlw sideplot felt natural and not shoehorned in and was what we all deserved. I'm just so happy to have experienced this masterpiece!!

Only Friends

Came for SandRay, stayed for BostonNick (and SandRay). Though it had its ups and downs I can't help but love it. There was so much messy drama that I was LIVING for every single week and experiencing that along with the rest of BL tumblr was the best thing. We desperately need more shows like this in the BL world.

Laws of Attraction

Ridiculous SFX could not deter me from loving this show. It's dramatic, it's over the top and it's ridiculous at times but it's crime so of course I liked it. Bonus points for cutting from the villain being killed in prison straight to the main couple's wedding. We love to see it!

Top Korean BLs

Our Dating Sim

This was my last watch of the year when I was looking for something that I could squeeze in without many expectations. How could I have guessed that it would turn out to be my favorite Korean BL of the year? Though the story is nothing new or groundbreaking, I enjoyed the main actors chemistry so so much. Korean BLs, to me, often feel a little stiff but they managed to make it feel so real and easy, I loved it.

The Eighth Sense

Oh, this was something else... High quality cinematography and high-quality story-telling. In the end I went into it with expectations that were too high to meet but still, such a touching BL that will definitely move you (maybe even to tears).

Why R U? (KR)

A show held together by three pieces of duct tape but enjoyable nonetheless. I don't think it's comparable to its Thai original. Yes, the plot is more or less the same but you gotta see it as its own thing. I do love me a panicked gay/confident gay pairing so it already had me from there. And let's talk about the kisses cause !!!

Top Japanese BLs

Tokyo in April is…

Friends to lovers my beloved!!! The PINING, the ACHING, the YEARNING! YEARS OF IT!! How can I not love it? Yes, this was a bit of a heavier BL but it was done SO WELL and the payoff from all the trauma was so satisfying.

My Personal Weatherman

What can I say? Japan just knows how to do it. In any other show the miscommunication between the mains would be annoying as hell. But the chemistry between these two was just off the charts. Nothing more to say.

I Cannot Reach You

Friends to lovers my beloved!!! the sequel. This time less traumatising but just as sweet and moving. A cute and innocent watch.

Top Taiwanese BLs

Kiseki: Dear to Me

The way I IMMEDIATELY knew ChenAi were gonna be my new hyperfixation as soon as I saw them in episode 1... They just have that je ne sais quoi, that special 'make me fall to the floor and bite my fist' quality to them. BZY and FZR also had their insane moments and in combination with everything that ChenAi were doing this show just hit the right spot. Can't wait to rewatch it.

Stay by My Side

Was it ridiculous? Yes. Was it cute tho? Also yes. Nothing I would rewatch but it did make me laugh a lot so there's that.

Top Chinese “BL”

Stay With Me

It’s not like we have much of a selection regarding Chinese BLs (cries in when will Eternal Faith, Immortaily and Winner is King be released from the dungeons?) but HOLY SHIT did they deliver with this one. I didn't know this was specifially made for international release when I went into it so I was in for a few surprises here and there. And I'm gonna say it: it's better than Addicted Heroin. The way their love story developed just has me screaming internally I LOVE THEM SO MUCHHHHH!!!

Top 3 overall

Kiseki: Dear to Me

Stay With Me

I Feel You Linger In The Air

Top pre-2023 BLs (that I watched in 2023)

The Eclipse (2022)

Can you believe that I only just joined the FirstKhao nation this year? I completely skipped this show last year NOT KNOWING what a masterpiece I missed out on. Finally a highschool BL with a capital P Plot! And the enemies to lovers was so so good!!! AkkAyan you will always be famous!

Love Mechanics (2022)

I'm not a fan of cheating stories at all but DEAR GOD these two!!! It's the YinWar magic that pulled me in and will never let me go. The constant back and forth did get a bit annoying at some point but I won't complain when we also got things like the shower scene...

Roommates of Poongduck 304 (2022)

Can ZB1 disband faster so Jiwoong can return to BL acting please? I jest, I jest... kinda. I loved the relationship dynamic in this one so much because they both held power over the other (and both were petty bitches about it lmao).

My Gear and Your Gown (2020)

The girls that get it get it, the girls that don't don't :) Falling for MarcPawin during Dangerous Romance and THEN realising that they're the mains for this show immediately put it on top of my watchlist and I'm not ashamed to say I liked it. It's very 2020 but sometimes that's all you need.

Favorite currently airing BLs

I did not want to consider these for the final rankings because they’re still airing and could theoretically still pull a Game of Thrones S7 on us but I have really high hopes for them.

Cherry Magic

HELLO???!?!? I LOVE ACHI SO F U CK ING MUCHHHH!!! And the way Karan is in love with him so gently and so deeply I- AAAAAHHHHHH. This is gonna be my new obsession I can feel it!!

Last Twilight

At first I didn't even plan on watching this because I didn't think JimmySea were a pairing I would enjoy (Vice Versa has been on hold for over a year lol). But GODDAMN did they prove me wrong! So soft, so precious... P'Aof you did it again!

The Sign

What a hodgepodge of genres... One second you're chasing a murderer, the next you're having sex fantasies about your coworker and then you're having visions about your past life with your soulmate (who is also said coworker). Love it!

Most disappointing BLs

Be Mine Superstar

I was so excited for a new JaFirst series as I really enjoyed Don't Say No, and Remember Me didn't quite quench my thirst. But this... if this was a BL then why did we spend SO MUCH TIME on the beef between the agents?? Shit was annoying af. Moreover, I really could not deal with Ja's character. I know a lot of people liked his innocent puppy-like behaviour but it was just too much for me. The only redeemable thing was the side pairing but even that turned into a hot mess quite quickly. Had to drop this at some point after I started watching it on 1.5 speed and realized that I'm torturing myself.

Low Frequency

Exciting concept but stiff acting and a plot that dragged on. Dropped halfway through.

Bon Appetit

It's not bad but just straight up boring. I finished it but it didn't leave any lasting impressions. I know you can do better, Korea...

Most anticipated QLs of 2024

Vampire Project (BOUNPREM VAMPIRE BL!!! I CAN DIE HAPPY ONCE THIS IS FINALLY ON MY SCREEN)

Jack & Joker (War finally getting his villain role let's fucking goooo)

IFYLITA Season 2 (PLEASE GOD MAKE IT HAPPEN P L E A S E also special ep WHEN????)

Spare Me Your Mercy (i will always be a slut for crime BLs)

23.5 Degrees (give it to us!!! LET US INNNN!!!)

My Love Mix-Up TH (istg if gmmtv doesn't learn from this whole cherry magic debacle...)

Eyes on you (even more spy/mafia/crime BL yes and thank you!)

Uranus 2324 (the production?? the story?? the cinematography??? I need it NOW)

Red Peafowl (this is either gonna be really bad or really good and I'm curious to see which one it's gonna be)

(I had Stay With Me S2 on this list until it was announced as cancelled on Jan 1st 😭😭 I wil never recover)

2023 Superlatives

Most iconic intro: Only Friends (long live First's thighs)

Quickest drop: Middleman’s Love (i was rooting for you Jade!)

Best supporting character: Tin's grandma - Laws of Attraction (sweetest lil supportive grandma who didn't deserve any of this)

Best Worst character: Jaewon's girlfriend - The Eighth Sense (I think this is the only bitchy ex-gf of the entire year and I'm glad about it)

Best side pairing: ChenAi - Kiseki: Dear to Me (do they even count as a side pairing anymore? If not then I'd go with GuyNawa - Dangerous Romance)

Best could have been if the writers wanted us to: NameSaifah - Dangerous Romance (no it was NOT enough!)

Biggest green flag: Win - Between Us (asking for consent is so sexyyy) / Yai - IFYLITA (he's the softest, most caring boy who's so so in love)

Biggest red flag (affectionate): Hira - Utsukushii Kare (my boy highkey needs therapy but Kiyoi wouldn't want it any other way so we'll let it slide) / Lom - Wedding Plan (the way he went about things was... questionable but I understand his reasoning behind it so I can't hate him)

Biggest red flag (derogatory): Boeing - Only Friends (bro just wanted to fuck with - literally and metaphorically - every and anyone and I respect that but dude...)

Most iconic kiss: Lee Won/Ji Oh - Why R U? KR (this was so fucking unexpected but they ate and left absolutely no crumbs)

Most iconic makeout scene: YangJai - Love in Translation (IN A GROCERY STORE?? FINGERS IN MOUTH??!)

Most iconic sex scene: TopBoston - Only Friends (oohhh the DRAMA of it all… truly gagged everyone with this)

Best unhinged horny scene: Jom - IFYLITA (I will never be able to look at massage oil without thinking about this...)

Best gays on a bike scene: Stay With Me (like… facing each other…. grinning at each other.... give me a minute)

Newest addition to the poor lil meow meow collection: Ai Di - Kiseki: Dear to Me (my feral murder kitten I LOVE YOU SO MUUUUUUCHHH)

And there we have it! What a year it's been... I can't wait for 2024 to be just as wonderful, unhinged, crazy and amazing. If you've read until this point I wanna thank you for enduring all that and also for supporting me and my edits throughout this year. Whether we're moots or not I truly appreciate every single person that interacts with me on this hellsite 🫶❤️

[ronaldanthony4]

I’ve created another digital artwork. This time, it’s a fan art that has been sitting in my mind for a while, just waiting for the right moment to come to life. And finally, that moment has arrived. As someone who constantly seeks ways to combine my artistic skills with the causes I believe in, I wanted to make sure this piece reflected a story I admire and a message that must be shared. Bringing this fan art to life was challenging and rewarding, as I poured my heart and soul into every detail.

This week, you see, is Cerebral Palsy Awareness Week, and it got me thinking deeply about a particular animated short film that moved me to the core. That film is "Cuerdas," a Spanish animated short film by Pedro Solís García. It’s an emotional masterpiece that tells the touching story of a young girl, María, and her friend, a boy with cerebral palsy who remains unnamed throughout the film. This short film left such a lasting impression on me that I felt compelled to pay tribute to it through my fan art.

In my artwork, I’ve depicted the two main characters from “Cuerdas”—María, the kind-hearted and vibrant girl with a zest for life, and her best friend, the unnamed boy, who has cerebral palsy. His condition means he is confined to a wheelchair, but despite his limitations, María’s love and care bring so much light into his life. The dynamic between these two characters is what captured my heart. Their friendship is a beautiful example of unconditional love and support, showing that true connections can transcend physical barriers.

I took great care in creating the visual details for this artwork, particularly focusing on capturing the tenderness and innocence that María and her friend share. María’s appearance is cheerful and bright, just as it is in the short film. She wears a school uniform—a navy blue sleeveless vest over a white shirt and a blue plaid skirt. Her short brown hair is neatly styled with a pink headband, decorated with a small flower. It’s a simple accessory, but it adds a touch of personality, representing her joyful and sunny nature. Her wide, sparkling blue eyes reflect her compassion and genuine care for her friend, showing how she sees beyond his disability and treats him with love and friendship.

Now, the unnamed boy in the wheelchair—his expression is a bit more subtle but no less meaningful. I wanted to capture the way he looks at María with admiration and happiness, despite his physical limitations. His eyes are bright, golden-brown, and filled with gratitude for the friendship he’s found with María. He, too, wears a school uniform similar to María’s, but instead of a skirt, he has green shorts, allowing his legs to rest comfortably on the wheelchair’s footrest. His body language, while restricted due to his condition, still shows how much he enjoys being with María. He is seated in a wheelchair, which I designed with careful attention to ensure it looks practical and comfortable.

“Cuerdas” was released in 2013, and even though it’s a short film, its impact is incredibly profound. Directed and written by Pedro Solís García, the film tells the story of María, a young girl who forms a deep bond with a new student at her school—a boy with cerebral palsy. Unlike the other children, who either ignore or pity him, María goes out of her way to include him in her life. She invents a game involving ropes—or “cuerdas” in Spanish—which allows them to play together in their unique way. The ropes represent not only the literal method of communication and play between María and the boy but also the metaphorical connection that forms between them.

I think that’s what makes this film so special—it highlights the power of compassion and understanding, especially when it comes to friendships that transcend barriers. Watching María care so deeply for her friend without any expectation of reward or recognition is a reminder of the pure goodness that exists in the world. It also serves as a powerful reminder of how we can break down barriers of isolation for those with disabilities, simply by extending our hands in friendship, just as María did with her friend.

What makes “Cuerdas” even more touching is that it’s inspired by real-life events. The director, Pedro Solís García, based the story on his own experiences with his son, who has cerebral palsy. Knowing this gives the film an extra layer of emotional depth, as it’s a personal reflection of the challenges and joys that come with caring for someone with a disability. The authenticity of the film adds a heartfelt sincerity to the story, making it even more impactful for viewers. Through "Cuerdas," audiences can witness the beauty of friendship and the resilience of the human spirit in the face of adversity.

As I was working on this fan art, I couldn��t help but think about my original characters (OCs), Arlon and Liliana. In some ways, I realise that “Cuerdas” had a deep influence on how I developed their relationship. Liliana, much like María, is the kind of character who befriends Arlon, despite his differences. In my stories, Arlon is autistic, and while his autism presents its own set of challenges, Liliana never lets that get in the way of their friendship. She’s patient, and understanding, and finds creative ways to connect with him, just like María did with her friend in “Cuerdas.”

The friendship between Liliana and Arlon is one of the core themes in my narratives. Liliana’s empathy and determination to be there for Arlon remind me so much of María’s relationship with the boy. She doesn't see Arlon’s autism as a burden but as a part of who he is. Through their friendship, both characters grow and learn from each other, just as María and the boy did. There’s something so pure about the way Liliana and Arlon interact, and I think that’s why I felt such a connection to “Cuerdas.”

Arlon, much like the boy in the short film, sometimes struggles with the world around him. He doesn’t always communicate in typical ways, and his sensory sensitivities can make certain situations overwhelming. But Liliana never gives up on him. She finds ways to make their friendship work, even when it might seem difficult to others. In many ways, their story mirrors the one told in “Cuerdas”—a story of understanding, patience, and the belief that love can bridge any gap, no matter how wide it may seem.

Creating this fan art was my way of honouring both “Cuerdas” and the relationships that inspire me in my creative work. I wanted to capture that same sense of hope and connection that the short film so beautifully conveys. The bright colours, the cheerful expressions, and the overall warmth of the scene are my tribute to the message of inclusivity and friendship that “Cuerdas” represents. I hope that viewers of my fan art can feel the same emotions of joy and unity that I experienced while creating it. It is a reminder that love knows no boundaries and that understanding and acceptance can truly bring people together in beautiful ways.

As I reflect on the impact that “Cuerdas” had on me, I realise how much art, in all its forms, has the power to change perspectives and open minds. A simple animated short film, just a few minutes long, can leave a lasting impression that stays with you for years. That’s the magic of storytelling—whether through films, books, or visual art, it allows us to see the world from new perspectives, to understand experiences different from our own, and to grow as individuals because of it.

My hope for this fan art is that it resonates with others who have seen “Cuerdas”, or even those who haven’t, but can feel the love and care between the two characters just by looking at it. I want people to see the beauty in the friendships that defy limitations, and to remember that everyone, no matter their abilities, deserves to be treated with kindness and respect. Art has the power to transcend boundaries and connect us on a deeper level, reminding us of the importance of empathy and compassion in our interactions with others.

Creating art is always a personal journey for me, but sometimes, like with this piece, it feels like so much more. It feels like a way to connect with others who share similar values, or who have been touched by stories like “Cuerdas.” I hope that this artwork serves as a reminder of the power of friendship, and how, with a little bit of love and creativity, we can all make the world a better place for those who need it most. Together, we can create a more compassionate and inclusive society.

In conclusion, this fan art is my tribute to Cerebral Palsy Awareness Week, to the film “Cuerdas,” and to the friendships that inspire us to be better, more compassionate people. It’s a reminder that even in the face of challenges, there is always room for love, understanding, and connection. I hope that through this piece, I’ve captured the essence of what “Cuerdas” stands for and that it inspires others to think about how they can extend a hand in friendship to those who may need it most.

[nosmokesport]

Jackson Jobe Shines Bright with First MLB Win During Masters Weekend

While the world watched golf history unfold at Augusta, another kind of masterpiece was taking place on the baseball diamond in Detroit.

Jackson Jobe, a rising star for the Tigers and son of former Masters competitor Brandt Jobe, delivered a dazzling performance on Saturday to collect his first MLB win. The 22-year-old right-hander silenced the Minnesota Twins over six scoreless innings, leading Detroit to a crisp 4-0 victory and making his own sports memory on a weekend steeped in tradition.

A Family Legacy, A New Path

Jobe isn’t just another rookie; his roots run deep in professional sports. As a child, he walked Augusta National alongside his father during the famed Par 3 Contest in 2006. Nearly two decades later, he etched his name into Detroit Tigers lore—trading a golf course for a mound and irons for a fastball.

His first MLB win felt like a perfect chapter in the story of a family built on competition and poise under pressure.

Commanding the Game

From the first pitch, Jobe appeared every bit the top-tier prospect scouts projected. In only his third start, he pitched with veteran-like efficiency—throwing 84 pitches across six innings, allowing only two hits and one walk, and keeping Minnesota completely off the board.

It wasn’t about high strikeout totals—it was about control, tempo, and smart pitching. “I stayed within myself,” Jobe said postgame. “It was about trusting my stuff and letting the defense work.”

A Complete Team Effort

After Jobe exited, Detroit’s bullpen took over and didn’t miss a beat. Brenan Hanifee, Tyler Holton, and John Brebbia combined for three clean innings to preserve the shutout, showcasing a cohesive pitching unit that’s hitting its stride early in the season.

On the offensive side, it was Spencer Torkelson who brought the fireworks. The former No. 1 overall pick drove in three of the team’s four runs, including a towering two-run homer in the sixth off Twins reliever Kody Funderburk. Torkelson’s power surge helped give Jobe a comfortable cushion and wrapped up the Tigers' seventh win in their last eight games.

Detroit Surging, Twins Sinking

With the win, Detroit moved to 9-6 on the season, riding momentum and leaning on its youth movement. Manager A.J. Hinch praised the group’s effort, saying, “We’re seeing the pieces come together. Jackson gave us exactly what we needed today, and the rest of the team backed him up like pros.”

For Minnesota, the loss continued a rough stretch, dropping their record to 4-11. Starter Chris Paddack held his own with five innings of two-run ball, but the offense failed to respond. Manager Rocco Baldelli kept it real: “We’re not getting it done. It’s that simple.”

The Arrival of a Future Star

Drafted third overall in 2021, Jobe arrived with serious expectations. Armed with a blazing fastball and a nasty slider, he quickly rose through the minor leagues and earned the reputation of being a future ace.

Now, ranked as ESPN’s No. 7 overall prospect, he’s showing signs that the hype wasn’t misplaced. Injuries slowed his progress at times, but he’s healthy now—and Detroit is starting to reap the rewards.

“I’ve been waiting for this opportunity,” Jobe said. “Today felt like the start of something.”

More Than Just a Win

For Jackson Jobe, this wasn’t just a baseball milestone—it was a moment of personal significance. On the very weekend his father once competed under the bright lights of Augusta, Jackson crafted a memory of his own, in his own sport, on his own terms.

And judging by his calm demeanor and sharp execution, it likely won’t be his last.

Detroit fans have been waiting for a homegrown pitcher to lead the way. With Saturday’s performance, Jackson Jobe made it clear—he just might be that guy.

Source: Masters Weekend 1st MLB Win Detroit

[unwrittenwitness]

25th September 2021

The Pull of the Unseen

I’ve been figety for this. Trying to will myself past it. My husband Laurence arrived a few weeks ago. When I saw him at the airport, I ran to him. He barely reacted. His face, grey with exhaustion or indifference, mirroring something unspoken between us. He said he was stressed, afraid I wouldn’t find him in the crowd. But the truth sat heavier. His expression was the shape of our unraveling.

We spent the next few weeks traveling through Wales—not because we craved adventure, but because there wasn’t room for us in Brighton, and I think because I didn’t want to combine my worlds.

The trip was… fine. Flickering and fragile, a handful of golden moments buried under the weight of trying too hard. We bent ourselves into shapes we thought would make the other happy, only to end up misshapen and not us.

A few nights ago, we took acid with friends. I had a blast! Something inside me loosened, stretched, expanded. I craved solitude, itchy for it, but one friend clung like a shadow. Still, I found a moment of pure magic—Ponyo—in silence, a masterpiece when your mind is melting at the edges.

We wandered into the South Downs, the night vast and endless. Two friends went in search of cows, Laurence and I stood beneath the stars, and another grew restless, begging to leave. I held my ground.

“I’d like to stay,” I said, surprising even myself. “Just for a while. Just to be here.”

Laurence brought it up the next morning as proof that I was slipping beyond his reach. That I was changing into someone unrecognisable. He was right.

We kept circling the inevitable. Conversations about how this wasn’t working, yet somehow, we still weren’t speaking the same language. I felt like I was spelling out the ending in bold letters, but he was reading another book entirely.

We’re flying back to Canada today. We both wanted to stay longer—he loved Brighton, and money wasn’t an issue. But every time we’ve talked about changing our flights, I feel it.

A pull.

Something deep, painful, magnetic, twisting in my gut.

It makes no sense. We were leaving for a 90s revival festival. Nothing life-changing. Just the Vengaboys. And yet, some invisible thread is yanking me toward that plane like my life depends on it…

Every time I have flown to Canada, my body has rebelled.

In 2018, as I boarded the plane to move there, I felt the wrongness clawing at me. A silent, unformed knowing. But I was too deep in the current to fight it. I know that Laurence noticed, but neither of us knew what to say.

In 2019, returning from my mum’s wedding, I had an anxiety attack so violent it lasted three days. I lost control of my limbs and ended up in the hospital, calcium deficient from a lack of oxygen. My body starved itself of breath, screaming at me to listen. Laurence and I never spoke of it.

Today, we flew back to Canada, and for the first time, there was no panic. Instead, there was… something else. A certainty. A rush of warmth, of acceptance, of inevitability.

Something is coming. Something big. And I can feel it in my bones. I’m not even sure how to describe it, but the entire flight felt like I was bathing on the beach.

For most of the flight, I gazed out the window, not telling Laurence what I knew in my gut: that whatever was pulling me forward had nothing to do with him. That the calm washing over me was the calm of a door swinging open.

And that missing piece I’ve had for so long has been replaced with this strange, aching sensation in my chest—like a rope being pulled, like a magnet locking onto something unseen— guiding me somewhere I can’t yet name.

[grassberrymattresskarurindia]

Pocketed Spring Mattress: The Symphony of Sleep

Introduction: A Revolution Beneath the Sheets

Imagine a mattress that moves to your rhythm, responding to your every turn, every breath. The Pocketed Spring Mattress is not just a mattress — it’s a masterpiece of balance and harmony. Each spring is an independent artist, working in tandem to create the ultimate melody of rest.

Have you ever felt the frustration of restless nights, where one movement disrupts the entire bed? It’s time to embrace a mattress that offers not just support but silence.

The Art of Independent Comfort

Springs That Work in Isolation

Unlike traditional mattresses, a pocketed spring mattress is designed with individually wrapped springs. Each spring acts independently, ensuring no movement is transferred across the bed.

Grassberry’s pocketed spring mattresses are crafted to offer personalized comfort, adapting to your body’s unique demands.

Tailored Support for Every Curve

Do you wake up feeling unsupported or sore? A pocketed spring mattress cradles your spine, distributing weight evenly. No matter your sleeping position, it aligns your body perfectly.

Grassberry understands that no two bodies are alike. Their mattresses provide precision-engineered support, ensuring you wake up refreshed.

The Beauty of Motion Control

No More Disturbed Sleep

Have you ever felt your partner’s every move at night? A pocketed spring mattress isolates motion, allowing you to enjoy uninterrupted dreams.

Grassberry’s innovation ensures that even the lightest sleeper finds solace in stillness, no matter how active the night.

Durability Meets Luxury

Pocketed spring mattresses are designed to last, maintaining their shape and comfort for years. Grassberry adds layers of premium foam and fabric, combining durability with luxurious softness.

The Grassberry Promise

Excellence Crafted in India

Every Grassberry mattress is a blend of modern technology and heartfelt craftsmanship. Locally made but globally admired, Grassberry pocketed spring mattresses are the epitome of quality and care.

Designed for Dreamers

Grassberry mattresses cater to those who dream big and sleep deeply. Whether you’re looking for pressure relief, back support, or undisturbed rest, Grassberry delivers on every promise.

Conclusion: A Mattress That Dances with You

The Pocketed Spring Mattress is not just a solution to sleepless nights; it’s a celebration of rest done right. With its ability to adapt, isolate motion, and provide enduring support, it becomes a partner in your journey to better sleep.

Grassberry Mattress invites you to step into a world where springs whisper comfort, and every night feels like a lullaby.

Will you let Grassberry’s pocketed spring mattress lead you to the symphony of sleep?