#someone said he's soft launching himself AND THAT'S SO TRUE

[astraystayyh]

why are all of chan's ig posts so far so boyfriend coded...

[fastandcarlos]

Soft Launch : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: follow the journey of lando’s soft launch to reveal your relationship

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 1,302,382 others

landonorris: one shoulder up or two 🤔

67,505 comments

username1: anyone else notice the person who accidentally walked in midway through the stream tonight!?

username2: lando definitely had a girl over…

alex_albon: you must be desperate for content if this is what you’re posting 🙄

username3: why won’t you tell us who was round your apartment lando??

georgerussell63: how about neither of your elbows up you weird man

username4: I keep replaying it but I can’t work out anything about them…

username5: what if lando has a secret girlfriend or something

danielricciardo: you know it’s okay to look at a photo and change your mind about posting it

username6: not everyone rinsing lando in the comments 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 1,937,605 others

landonorris: life’s been pretty good recently ☀️

58,391 comments

username7: any particular reason why that might be mr lando norris

carlossainz55: care to elaborate? 🤔

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 zooming over to ferrari now to fill you in

username8: wonder if it’s pretty good because of someone??

georgerussell63: glad to see you with a smile on your face buddy 🫶🏻

username9: is he hinting that this new girl has made his life better??

maxverstappen1: I wanna know all of the gossip too 😂

username10: I’d love to be the reason for lando’s smile fyi

username11: I’m more interested to know who even took these photos

oscarpiastri: I’m fed up of this new version of you, you’re too smiley to have around the garage now

landonorris: @/oscarpiastri sorry not sorry 🙃

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by team_quadrant, maxfewtrell and 1,492,606 others

landonorris: apparently if you find a girl who likes quadrant, she’s definitely a keeper ✨

78,301 comments

username12: this sounds like confirmation to me that lando has a girl

team_quadrant: girls who like quadrant = girls with good taste

username13: do you reckon that’s her in the photo ☺️

danielricciardo: ik a better brand of clothes that they could wear 😂

landonorris: @/danielricciardo quadrant > enchante 🤫

username14: really hoping this new girl likes quadrant so she can stick around forever

username15: I like quadrant…does that make me your girlfriend now??

charles_leclerc: I like quadrant but you’re not willing to date me…

username16: @/charles_leclerc also not a girl you clown

oscarpiastri: if I do a photo shoot with you do I get free merch too?

pierregasly: why am I so invested in being part of lando’s comment section lmao

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,594,706 others

landonorris: thank you for bringing so much positivity into my life 🫶🏻🥺

89,394 comments

danielricciardo: you’re welcome honey 😇

landonorris: @/danielricciardo you wish that I was talking to you

username17: look how perfect they look together wow

username18: it’s official, he’s actually managed to get a girlfriend

georgerussell63: congrats on not being the single friend anymore 👏🏻

carlossainz55: little lando norris finally got himself a girlfriend 😂

username19: I want to be happy but I so wish that this was me

username20: the look on his face 😭 I’m so happy he’s happy

charles_leclerc: if you want some tips on how to be a good boyfriend just zoom back to ferrari again

username21: my heart is so full - cheering for these guys all the way!!

username22: constantly telling myself not to be bitter that my dreams now won’t come true

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by mclaren, charles_leclerc and 1,395,604 others

landonorris: race weekend with a first timer, luckily for her she picked the best team to support 🧡🏎️

89,483 comments

maxverstappen1: did she get a choice or did you force her to do this??

landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 she said she wanted to support the team with the most handsome driver 💁🏻‍♂️

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris she thinks I’m handsome awh

landonorris: @/oscarpiastri 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

username23: how have we not got a face reveal when she was literally at the race

username24: I never had lando down for a soft launch kinda guy

danielricciardo: did you even introduce her to all the teams on the grid, you know, let her make her on mind up??

username25: whoever she is she knows how to rock papaya

username26: omg the height difference is the sweetest

logansargeant: I remember when I used to hug you and you’d rest against my chest like that 😂

alex_albon: look at you being all cute and charming

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxfewtrell, danielricciardo and 1,022,494 others

landonorris: holidaying with my favourites 🌊☀️

89,504 comments

username27: eurgh lando you’re killing us with all these almost photos

maxfewtrell: I’m the number one out of the two of us though right??

landonorris: @/maxfewtrell whatever makes you feel better sweet cheeks

username28: my heart can’t cope with this for much longer

oscarpiastri: so you holidayed with your favourites and yet I’m here at home 🤔

username29: lando replacing oscar with his girlfriend is peak

username30: lando knows what he’s doing and this is so not fair

username31: I bet he’s laughing at all of us when he looks at his comments section

alex_albon: it’s alright for some 😂

username32: lando I’m on my knees pls just tell us more about who this lucky girl is

georgerussell63: I think your fans might turn on you soon if you don’t stop playing them 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, georgerussell63 and 1,302,493 others

landonorris: another race weekend with my best human there to cheer me on 💕☺️

99,398 comments

username33: FINALLY HE GAVE US WHAT WE WANT

username34: omg she’s absolutely gorgeous lando

username35: we won at last woooooo

alex_albon: still can’t believe your girlfriend supports mclaren 😭

oscarpiastri: don’t forget who the most handsome mclaren driver is tho 😂

username36: they look so in love together 💞

username37: I want to be jealous but how can I be when they look so cute

lilymhe: we’re double dating asap btw

danielricciardo: they don’t prepare you for when the kids grow up 🤧

landonorris: @/danielricciardo sorry dad 😭

username38: my heart has officially exploded 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, danielricciardo and 1,948,502 others

landonorris: whoops they caught us 🥺

tagged: ynusername

138,849 comments

username39: these two are gonna be such a duo omg

username40: ah and he even tagged her 🤩🤩🤩

danielricciardo: my kids are the cutest things in the world

carlossainz55: smooooth operator 😂😂

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 high praise from you my friend 🫡

username41: thank goodness that the soft launch era is now over

username42: I’m already in love with them so much

username43: I don’t want to be yn anymore, I just want to be her best friend

charles_leclerc: congrats buddy 👏🏻👏🏻

alex_albon: stop making the rest of us feel single even though we’re also in relationships please

ynusername: ily 🥺🥺🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[zweiginator]

i crave inexperienced art like air. he’s never touched anyone except himself so his first time with you is a flurry of questions. “is this good?” “there?” “too much?” he’s so sickeningly sweet about it to the point you have to just take control. whether it’s his hand or his dick, you forcefully grab either and show him how while getting yourself there. he’s moaning and spilling in his pants like he’s 15 again. (i’m ovulating and going INSANE rn.)

mmmm art who is repressed. art whose grandma is very traditional and wants her grandson to be respectable, kind, and masculine in the chivalrous, soft way as the young men in her generation were.

so while she never outright said art should save himself, he would be far too guilty if he had sex. so he doesn't.

and as a twenty year old sophomore in college, he has done a good job at fulfilling this promise. he's only touched himself a handful of times; he doesn't remember how each time began--he just felt like he had to.

but after each time, each desperate thrust into his fist, each pass of his thumb over his aching cockhead, each time he came until he was shaking and out of breath--he felt so guilty. just dirty.

he can't imagine how bad he will feel after having real sex.

and he doesn't even worry about the possibility until he meets you. a pretty girl in his class who is so kind. you're so airy. he doesn't know how to explain himself or exactly what that means--he guesses that you're just sort of like a big breath. you feel good, natural, easy.

he can't help himself, looking at your body. his eyes pass over you and he wonders, like a pervert--like a bad, bad boy--what you look like underneath your clothes. the perk of your nipples, the curve of your breast. he wonders how your waist would feel. and he is really, really curious about your pussy. he's never seen one. but he doesn't just want to look it up to quench that thirst, that desire. he only wants to see yours.

you come over to his house to study quite a bit. you like how sweet he is. so hospitable; he always has drinks and a snack waiting for you. always listens to your ideas. always compliments how smart you are.

but art feels like a monster. he feels like a wretched excuse for a man. because whenever you leave, he has to touch himself. he gets that same ache in his stomach, his balls. he needs to cum. he hates that word, but it's true. he spits in his hand and fucks his fist and dreams of it being you. dreams of you taking from him, taking his virginity. having him all for yourself. whatever you fucking want, he would give it to you. your name spurts from his mouth like the ropes of cum that coat his hands.

and he scrubs his body raw afterwards. hates himself.

but soon, touching himself isn't enough. the more you come over to study, the more he gets those evil aching sensations but not to touch himself--to touch you. your skin looks so soft. you smell so good. your lips are glossy. he likes how they curl up when you smile.

he cuts you off as you're talking.

"can i please kiss you?" his request is quiet, his voice full of trepidation.

"yes. i was wondering when you would."

art didn't realize you were waiting for him. he launches forward. to hover on top of you on the couch. he's lazily made out with a girl before, but it wasn't anything serious, and they both sucked at it.

art's kisses are eager, his lips ache for more the second they close upon your own. he wants to do it again and again. so his mouth opens wider and he experiments. pushes his tongue against yours. he moans into your mouth, moans your name again and again. he's so desperate to touch you, but he doesn't know how. you push his hand under your shirt; you're not wearing a bra.

he feels the impossibly supple skin, the peak of your nipples.

"fuck--" he whimpers, rolling it between his fingers.

this time you moan. it makes him so hard. he doesn't know how someone could be this hard.

"is this good? do you like this?" the way art asks it isn't in the sexually charged way, it's a sincere question; he's worried he's doing a bad job. that you don't like this.

but you pull him back in. a 'yes' rolls from your lips as you nibble on his and your hand snakes down his torso. he's toned an hard there. he's harder when you feel his cock, straining.

and when you palm him, it's lazy. but art mewls against the corner of your mouth; he's basically drooling. his mouth falls open and you realize he's cumming. his hips jerk and he hides his face because god, that's embarrassing.

"we gotta get your stamina up." you whisper against his neck.

art nods and bites back a smile because you said we and not you.

[cynical-ghost]

SUMMER LOVIN

Paring: Charles Leclerc x feminine reader

Genre: fluff, Smau-social media

Warnings: use of Y/n, translated French

Synopsis: Charles starts soft launching his relationship with you after two years together.

F.C: multiple.

F1.gossip

Liked by f1wags, chxrlesgf, cl16myhusband and 267,147 others

F1.gossip Ferrari driver @Charles_leclerc was spotted cuddled up with a mystery woman this afternoon in Monaco 🇲🇨

This isn’t the first time Leclerc has been spotted with a certain someone but we have yet to receive a face reveal from said mystery woman.

F1wags new wag?

16clwc Doubt it, he’s been seen with women since the start of the summer

Chillipxppercs what if it was just the same woman in all the pics?

User15 RIGHT! Like we have never seen the face of the women/woman in the pics!

Chxrlesgf has anyone noticed that Charles seems happier recently like since last year?

Cl16myhusband Ikr I thought Ferrari might have changed their strategy at first but then the season started, so I’m going with my second option that Charles has got himself a girlfriend🤣

Charles_leclerc

Liked by carlossainz55, Y/nforeal, Maxverstappen1 and 932,362 others

Charles_leclerc yacht trips and picnics, les deux meilleures années avec toi☀️❤️(the best two years with you)

Maxverstappen1 getting closer to a face reveal I see 👀

Theundercovergf I love you handsome💕

Charles_leclerc I love you beautiful❤️

lilymhe Miss you beautiful💋

Theundeecovergf arcade?🩷

lilymhe meet you there💕

User12 OMG IS THIS HER BACKUP ACCOUNT!!!

user 14 love how mystery woman and Lily have a friendship

Y/nforeal

Liked by yourbff, lilymhe, Francisca.cgomes and 456,736 others

Y/nforeal picnics in the summer sun with you are my favourite🩷❤️

Theundercoverbf I love you pretty girl🩷

Y/nforeal I love you more handsome❤️

User3 They have matching secret accounts!!!

Charlesy/n the picnic blanket and the dress after the same as in Charles, pic

User53 I THOUGHT I WAS THE KNLY INE WJO NOTICED

Charlesy/n I CAN FEEL MY SHIP ABOUT TO SALE OFF INTO THE SUNSET!!!!

F1wags

Liked by f1.gossip, y/nwife, chxrlesgf and 236,894 others

F1wags @charles_leclerc suspected girlfriend @y/nforeal as after posting soflaunches only days appart the two had accounts @theundercovergf and @theundercoverbf in there comments.

Y/nswife she is the most gorgeous human being

User3 she is so pretty!!🤩

User2 you guys should stop posting stuff like this, like what if this is just some random girl getting pulled into Charles’ love life

User15 I would normally agree but it’s so obvious that it’s true🤣

Charles_leclerc

Liked by y/nforeal, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 895,439 others

Charles_leclerc my beautiful girlfriend who custom made her own Ferrari jacket❤️🩷

Tagged: y/nforeal

Y/nforeal I would make all the jackets in the world to support you! 🩷

Charles_leclerc I love you so much❤️

User14 OH MY FUCKING GODDD!!!

Charlesy/n It happened, it happened, IT HAPPENED!! My ship has saled away into the sunset

Maxverstappen1 finally, I was worried lando would spill 🤣

Landonorris Hey!

Oscarpiastri you know he’s right mate

Landonorris😭

[boyfhee]

CLOSEST FRIEND AND MORE ⋆ pjs

prompt · “i don’t think i’ve ever felt the way i do with you with anyone else.” “what does that mean?” “what do you think it means?” · requested

g · fluff warnings · light profanities, mentions of injury wc · 0.8k

note · writer's block is real and it sucks

“and then, that bastard, that cheating lying bastard, blatantly lied in front of everyone and said that, i pushed him during the game. seriously— can you believe that?” a scoff falls off your lips and you recall the moments from your PE class this morning, which more or less morphed into a fight between you and one of your classmates who claims to have been pushed by you in a game of dodgeball and sprained his ankle when in reality, he practically launched himself towards you and all you did was step aside to save yourself. 

and jay, he’s hearing this story for the fifth time today, in different narratives from different people, with more colourful words for the said boy being served by them on a silver platter.

“no, i really can’t believe that,” he responds sarcastically, eyes focused on the evening sky and then the road as a soft smile rested upon his lips, throughout the walk from school to your place. 

“jay,” you slow down, the extra emphasis on his name to get a serious reply, making him turn to look at you. you stare at him for a second while he mirrors the same blank look at you, before a faint sigh slips off your lips. “you’ve been really quiet today, you know?” 

and not just today but for the past four to five days. jay is a quiet person, actually, but not quiet quiet, not the quiet where you hear six words maximum from him in twenty-four hours. you wouldn’t say you and jay are super close or the bestest of friends and yet still, you can hear him whisper from behind you during classes, making you laugh occasionally, sneaking notes from under the desks, everything that makes maths more bearable for you and everything whose absence for days now has you concerned. 

“is that so?”

“mhm, i almost forgot your voice,” which is an exaggeration on your part, but you’re pretty sure it would have come true had the silence game continued for a few more days. “are you okay, though? is there anything you’re worried about, anything you’d like to tell me?” 

a brief pause follows, a moment of silence yet again, filled with the shuffling of your footsteps on the pavement as he swings your hand back and forth, holding it a little tighter. “well, there is something i’m worried about but i can figure it out myself,” 

you step in front of him, getting a better look at his face and his eyes meet yours. “are you sure?”

“i am,” 

you see your house now, the first one as soon as you'd take the next left. walks with jay are less frequent. he’s either busy with his other friends or after school stuff that your homeroom teacher assigns him, much to his disappointment. walks with him are less often but are always fun, hands intertwined as you both take all the time in the world to cover the ten minutes walking distance from school to your house, since he insists on walking you home everyday. 

walks with him are less common, this might be your ninth or tenth time, but they’re already something you look forward to ever since you wake up. you realise that walks with jay might be the only chance to get to know him better, and thus, you take the opportunity. 

“i know you don’t like stressing people out with your own problems and you rarely talk about them, but i want you to know that you can rely on me,” the two of you finally stop in front of your house and you stand in front of him, taking both of his hands into yours. “you’re one of my closest friends, i’m here if you never need someone to listen to you,” 

he has known you for one month, barely, and you’re asking him to spill his worries to you as if they’re your own, but how does he tell you that you’re the reason he’s losing track of day, noon and night, wondering if there’s even a little chance that you feel the same way as he feels towards you? 

“i don’t think i’ve ever felt the way i do with you, with anyone else,” but the words escape his mouth, leaving him surprised too, as if he has lost control over his thoughts, letting his heart take over his mind, allowing it to make all the decisions. 

you feel your heart skipping beats and pacing relentlessly, quite sure going to pop out of your chest any second. “what does that mean?” 

how does he tell you that you’re the one making him worried with all these feelings that he has for you? 

“what do you think it means?” and the smile on your face morphs into hesitation, heat rising up your cheeks as he takes a step towards you. another string of silence follows as you try to come up with words, but before you could even sort out your thoughts, jay beats you to it. “see you tomorrow,” 

and that’s all he says before walking away, because you consider him one of your closest friends, so how does he tell you that he’s inexplicably in love with you, and that he wants to be something more? 

[romancefranaticstay]

𝓓𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓽𝓸 𝓭𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼

𝓒𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓻𝔂: 𝓯𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯, smut

Lee felix x devil reader

ミ◦❧◦°˚°◦.¸¸◦°´❤•.¸♥♥¸.•❤´°◦¸¸.◦°˚°◦☙◦彡ミミ◦❧◦°˚°◦.¸¸◦°´❤•.¸♥ ♥¸.•❤´°◦¸¸

As a devil, you shouldn't fall in something called 'love'. Like it was thought on your side, love was a trap for poor souls to fall into. It didn't excist on your side. You were 'The Devil'. Not the honor or the highest devil of them all, but your father was indeed the devil. You were extremely dangerous, but there was something. Something only you knew about. A side of yours that has a weakness, a weakness no one else has. A weakness of those beautifull white wings...

Others called you the perfect example, of the death nouns. You liked to be evil, to have the cruelity personality of a devil. To have the guts to make others eyes bleed. To make the soul bleed for enternity, and not to feel any guilt. To cut a wound that would stay forever and never heal, how much others would try to reach your level, you would be the only one with the cruelest soul.

One day you were like the others on earth. You were undercover on earth. Nobody regonized you as the cruel. Nobody ever does, nobody ever has, and nobody ever will. Observing poor and weak souls from a distance. Seeing through them, without even noticing. People walking by, trying to discover your new victim.

Suddenly a person walked by, you though it was a person. A boy, with perfect white skin, perfect blond hair. You couldn't look through him, it felt weird. You tried to lead his eyes towards yours, because everyone knew the eyes are the door of the soul.

The eyes you looked in, were one of a kind. It didn't feel like a human, didn't sound like one. His dark brown eyes falling into a place, a place nobody ever has been. His gaze gave you a weird feeling in your stomach. People describe it like butterflies, you describe it like thorns. Thorns of a red rose.

His gaze counting in seconds, his gaze lasting forever. Your eyes binding together like one. The feeling got lost when his eyes left yours, alone in the dark. You weren't letting this slide, this was like witchcraft.

He was walking away, but ofcourse he couldn't escape you. You gave him a couple of seconds to walk further.

5

4

3

2

1

....

Time to hunt him down. You had the feeling it was an angel. His soul felt to pure. He was walking around into a crowd of people. All of a sudden he went left, into a dark erea. The perfect time. You followed him into the darkness, untill you felt someone grab your arms.

You couldn't see what happend into the dark. Your hands pinned above your head. Looking into the darkness of the space. Suddenly seeing two eyes staring into yours, those angeleyes.

His face coming closer to yours, untill your two noses touched eachother. His breath smelled like flowers and heaven. You may ask how i know how heaven smells... No questions, for now...

'Your prescence is making mine heart beat to fast.' he said.

'It isn't mine fault your heartbeat can't handle the heat.'

'You should have stayed in the flames of hell.'

'You should have stayed behind the gates of heaven.' you hissed back.

He stopped pinning your hands on the wall. You placed your hands on his shoulders. Looking into his eyes, knowing the other side wants it to.

The thing with devils and angels are they can sense heat-feelings. Heat feelings aren't anger or frustration. Heat feelings are sexual feelings between two.

He opens his wings and embrace's you with them. Holding close to his body. Feeling every inch of it. Feeling everything you want to feel. He holds you close as he launche's himself in the air. Ofcourse the people eye sight were so terribly bad, they never could seen through the 'wall'.

He was flying towards a space, a space nobody ever knew excisted. Only God knew it excisted, but God can't stop true love. The place was somewhere in the universe. A place were everything was like a bed, so soft.

'Gosh, you are driving me insane Y/N.' his hands wandering around your body. His lips smacking on yours. Moaning in eachothers mouth. Your tongues interwining with eachother.

He pushed you on the ground, his arms around your body. You moaned out his name. His hands found a way in your panties.

'Alreaddy so wet for me, devilly.' his two fingers playing with your clit.

'G-go faste-.' you couldn't make any sentencen's anymore, it was to difficult. The feeling of pleasure was to overwhelming.

'Devilly, devilly, so needy.' his finger going faster, faster and faster. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

'I- am going to c-cum.' suddenly he stopped.

'W-what? Why did you stop?' he smirked. He undid his belt and lowered his pants. He took out his length. It was big and veiny. The thoughts of him inside you made you dizzy.

He placed his lenght by your entrance. He slamed his hips into you. You choked on a moan. He interwined his hand with yours.

'You are doing great devilly.' his other hand he placed on your cheek. Softly touching it. Your cheeks were bright red because of the heat. He found it adorable to see you under him.

His pace started to go faster. Sounds of moans, skin slapping and sweet little words filled the space. He was pumping fast into you. Looking straight into your eyes.

'Angelly, i-am going to c-cum.' you moaned out.

He started to pump into you fast, faster and faster. Untill you couldn't hold it in anymore. You screamed the biggest moan. Felix stayed pumping into your, untill he came with a moan.

'You did so well devilly, so well.' he whispered. You felt his sweatty body on yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him into a sloppy kiss. His arms embracing your body.

Both of you stayed laying in eachother arms. His wings embracing and hiding you both.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A wonder happend with you both. It is impossible for a devil and an angel to pro-create, but because the love between you two, were so strong. God gifted you a beautifull baby boy and girl. A twin boy and girl.

The boy was called: Cupide (Cupido) and the girl was called: Amora. They both represented the love between you two. And those two, would become one of the most powerfull people in the univserse.

[o-wild-west-wind]

so after the s2 teaser drop the pirates have been ping-ponging inside my brain for the past few days rapidly enough to reach a boiling point and I think it’s just cooked a theory: the Kiss™ was, for all intents and purposes, a marriage proposal—and Ed’s not raiding weddings just because he feels like the possibility of a future marriage is off the cards, but because he sees himself as, quite literally, having been jilted by a man who just said yes to his proposal.

Prefacing that a) I know the historical context is not (and absolutely should not) be given much weight in this show, and b) I am not a historian (so please correct me if I say anything patently ~falshe~) but that said and with my only qualification as being a Certified Slut for period dramas, I think a case could be made that this show—and Ed specifically—could be assuming an era-specific formula for romance.

While the majority of society was kind of a free-for-all when it came to sex/marriage/etc. in the 18th century, the upper echelons were still bound to a relatively strict level of propriety, as well as transactional views of a relationship; and at the same time, this was a period when the notion of marrying for love was rising in popularity (Stede, of course, is the poster child of someone forced into this contradiction). For the upper classes, you'd be lucky to get a period of courtship before the actual marriage, because if you did, it meant you got a shot at getting to know the person you were going to end up with (and had the potential for love). And—as such—courtship was kind of a thrilling, romantic thing with a few common qualities: it tended to be very public, very loaded & grandiose, and very brief, and even though it didn't have to end in marriage, marriage was always the end goal. You can probably see where I'm going here.

I think it's easy to read the "you wear fine things well" scene as a possible soft-launch of their courtship, and Lucius's nudges solidify it. Courtship was traditionally full of big, romantic gestures—maybe planning treasure hunts and setting ships on fire weren't typical ones, but they sure do count—and as much "getting to know you" as possible. Like dating, it was the time when you'd learn the other person's values, hobbies, preferences, etc., except perhaps to a shallower degree given the typical lack of privacy. If anything, Ed and Stede have a leg up in this respect.

Now, I do think it's a misconception that the majority of marriage proposals in this time happened after, like...3 weeks of knowing each other, but the trope is there for a reason. It was a lot more common for the engagement period to be the time you really got to know each other, and it wasn't abnormal for the engagement to last longer than the actual courtship; a marriage proposal kind of WAS the first truly official step in someone's relationship socially, emotionally, and physically. And while this might not have been true of the rungs of society Ed has been a part of, it definitely would've been true of Stede's.

Now, I don't think Stede is really thinking consciously of all of this during the timeline he's with Ed; he's intent on breaking all the rules he's felt strangled by his whole life. But Ed—he wants all that. He loves the idea of an aristocratic life, but he's also a romantic who wants an aristocratic love. Like how so many of us romanticize Jane Austen novels because it's a world we're so far removed from, Ed probably romanticizes love in Stede's world. He doesn't want the free-for-all he's been living; he loves the thrill of a courtship, of gentlemanly sensibilities, of the metaphorical dance of it all. And when an upper-crust gentleman appears to have initiated this courtship—and when he's being encouraged by everyone (except Izzy, but there's even more romance in rebellion) to reciprocate—he's going to indulge in it with all his heart. He's literally living a romantic novel dream world, and once he's sure of Stede's feelings, he has absolutely no reason not to expect that their trajectory is marriage. Sure, Stede is a pirate now—but he's still a gentleman, and isn't that what being wooed by a gentleman means?

So when they're in a desperate situation and the bar for grand gestures can't go higher, and they experience true privacy for the first time ever, and Stede kisses back, and he says yes to running away together—and Ed even asks for confirmation to make sure it’s all for real—"yes?" "I think so?" "yes!"—that's as good as a vow. That's a promise on par with a proposal. And this is probably when it clicks for Stede, too—he hears Mary's words, "we never would've chosen each other," and suddenly he realizes that he can finally choose love! And so there they are: relationship made official, 1700s style.

Cut to Ed, crashing weddings and stealing little cake toppers in dramatically tragic, anachronistic fashion—because, well...they were supposed to get married, weren't they? Because that's what gentlemen are supposed to do, or so he thought. But in reality, gentlemen aren't romantic; they're just fickle.

And let the divorce arc commence.

[jesuispatrick]

more than words can say - Batman x reader

Summary: your a valuable member of the league and someone accuses you of being a traitor.

word count: 2.2k

author's note: I have decide to go in a complete different direction and write for batman. I will also be writing for other DC characters too such as night wing. I have no clue if there is still a community for these fanfics so please let me know if you like it :)

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As a member of the Justice League, I felt an immense sense of pride and accomplishment. I had spent years training to perfect my powers and become an integral part of the team. My unique abilities allowed me to control the elements of water, fire, earth, and air, giving me a versatility that was unmatched by most.

I had first discovered my powers as a child, and with the help of my parents, who were also gifted with extraordinary abilities, I learned to control them. As I grew older, I honed my skills through rigorous training and countless battles against evildoers who threatened the safety of innocent people.

My reputation as a formidable superhero eventually caught the attention of the Justice League, and they extended an invitation for me to join their ranks. It was a dream come true, and I was determined to prove myself as a valuable member of the team.

I took a seat at the long table in the conference room of the Watchtower, the Justice League's orbital headquarters. The room was spacious and dimly lit, with large windows that offered a stunning view of the Earth below. The table was made of sleek, black marble and was surrounded by high-tech chairs that seemed to conform to the body of whoever sat in them.

Superman stood at the head of the table, his broad shoulders tense with worry. His usually warm smile was replaced with a grave expression, and his piercing blue eyes scanned the faces of each member of the League with a sense of urgency.

The Watchtower hummed with the sound of the powerful engines that kept it aloft, and the only other noise in the room was the soft beeping of the high-tech equipment that surrounded us. The sense of gravity and importance was palpable in the air as Superman began to speak.

Superman stood at the head of the table, his expression serious. ‘We've discovered a traitor among us," he said, his voice carrying a weight of concern. "Someone on the inside has been leaking information to our enemies. We need to find out who it is before they do more damage."

A feeling of unease crept over me as I listened to Superman lay out the details of the mission. Green Lantern sat across from me, his cold stare adding to the tension in the room. I shifted in my seat, trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes boring into me. I was grateful for the opportunity to contribute to the mission, but the accusation that someone among us was a traitor left me on edge. The sudden tension in the room was palpable, and I could feel Hal’s mistrust directed towards me.

"As the meeting came to an end, Hal wasted no time in confronting me. "You're the one we should be watching," he said, his voice dripping with suspicion. "I don't trust you."

Hal’s words stung, and I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had always thought we were on the same team, fighting for the greater good. The idea that he saw me as a threat or a traitor was beyond comprehension.

"I can't believe you're accusing me of this," I said, my voice shaking with emotion. "I've dedicated my life to this cause, just like you."

But Green Lantern remained resolute, his arms folded across his chest as he glared at me. "You've always been a wildcard, with those elemental powers of yours. Who's to say you're not using them for your own gain?"

Before I could even begin to respond, Hal launched himself at me with a powerful construct of energy. My heart pounded as Green Lantern's fists crackled with green energy and he charged towards me. I braced myself, summoning my powers to control the elements of water, fire, earth, and air. We clashed, our powers colliding in a spectacular display of energy.

I sent a blast of water towards Lantern, but he deflected it with a shield of energy. He countered with a barrage of green energy beams, which I dodged by shifting the earth beneath my feet. The ground rumbled as I caused a fissure to open up between us, and Lantern jumped back to avoid falling in.

We circled each other, each looking for an opening to strike. I summoned a gust of wind to try and throw him off balance, but he countered with a construct of energy that knocked me off my feet. I tumbled backwards, but quickly regained my footing.

Hal charged at me again, this time with a construct of energy that resembled a giant fist. I summoned a wall of earth to block it, but the force of the impact sent me flying backwards. I landed hard on the ground, feeling the wind knocked out of me.

I struggled to get back up, but Green Lantern was on me in an instant. He grabbed me by the neck and lifted me off the ground, his eyes blazing with anger. "You think you can take me down?" he snarled.

With a surge of willpower, I summoned a fierce blaze of fire around my body, causing Green Lantern to release me in surprise. I took advantage of his momentary distraction to send a barrage of rocks hurtling towards him, however, before the lantern could deliver another blow to me Batman was the first to reach my side, shielding me from Green Lantern's attack.  

"Back off, Lantern," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "We're all on the same team here."

Lantern hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking between me and Batman. I could see the doubt and confusion in his expression as he weighed his options. The tension in the room was thick and heavy, and everyone watched in anticipation, waiting for the next move.

Suddenly, a burst of green energy erupted from Green Lantern's ring, catching Batman off guard. The Dark Knight was sent flying across the room, crashing into the wall with a loud thud. I winced as I saw him hit the wall and immediately tried to run to his side, but Green Lantern blocked my path. "You're not going anywhere," he snarled, his ring glowing with a dangerous intensity.

But before he could make another move, a bolt of lightning struck him, sending him staggering backwards. The Flash appeared beside me, his hand crackling with electricity. He stood in front of me, ready to protect me from any further attacks.

"You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us," he said, his voice laced with determination.

With Hal momentarily stunned, I saw my chance to strike. I called upon the elements once more, sending a blast of fire towards him. The flames engulfed him, forcing him to the ground.

As he struggled to get back up, Wonder Woman lassoed him with her golden lasso, restraining him. He began to struggle against the bonds. "Wait...stop!" he yelled. "I didn't mean to betray the team. It wasn't my choice."

The members exchanged a look of confusion. "What are you talking about?" Superman demanded.

Green Lantern took a deep breath, his eyes focusing on the heroes around him. "I was brainwashed," he explained. "Our enemies, they...they got to me. They made me do it."

The room was silent as everyone processed this information. Batman stepped forward, his expression hard. "Who did this to you?" he demanded.

Hal hesitated, his eyes flicking nervously between the heroes. "I don't know. They wore masks, and their voices were distorted. They...they said they had leverage over me, that they could hurt my family."

Superman placed a hand on Green Lantern's shoulder. "We'll help you, Hal,” he said, "We'll find out who did this to you and put a stop to it."

The rest of the Justice League nodded in agreement, their expressions determined. As they led Hal away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. While the revelation was shocking, it was a relief to know that one of our own hadn't turned against us willingly.

I stood up and winced when I tried to put pressure on my right leg. "Let's get you to the medic bay," Batman said, his voice calm but urgent. "You may have a sprain or a fracture. We need to make sure you're okay." 

Batman guided you through the hallways of the Watchtower, his grip firm but gentle. You leaned into him for support, grateful for his strength. As you limped along, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of comfort in his presence.

Arriving at the med bay, Batman helped me onto one of the beds and fetched a medical kit. As Batman continued to patch up my injuries in the med bay, he paused for a moment and looked into my eyes. "I need to tell you something," he said, his voice serious. "I've been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I just didn't know how."

I looked at him curiously, waiting for him to continue.

"I care about you," he said, his voice low and intense. "More than I should. You have a way of getting under my skin, and I can't help but want to protect you at all costs."

My heart skipped a beat at his confession, realising the depth of his feelings for me. "Bats," I said softly, reaching out to touch his hand. "I...I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he said, his eyes fixed on mine. "Just know that I'll always be here for you, no matter what. I'll do anything to keep you safe."

Looking into his eyes through his mask, I leaned in and kissed him, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled be so I was flushed against his hard suit. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to pull him even closer if that was possible. 

Suddenly Bruce stopped and his head whipped up and he noticed a blur of red and yellow out of the corner of his eye. "Flash, what are you doing here?" he asked, his tone slightly annoyed.

I turned my head around and saw Flash stumble to a stop, his hands held up in a placating gesture. "Whoa, sorry Bats," he said, grinning sheepishly. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything important."

I blushed, feeling embarrassed that we had been caught in a vulnerable moment. Batman turned to me, his expression softening. "It's all right," he said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "We can continue this later."

Flash's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Ooh, is there something going on between you two?" he teased, winking at me.

Batman shot him a stern look. "That's none of your business, Flash," he said firmly. "Now, do you have a reason for being here or are you just here to make bad jokes?"

Flash sobered up quickly, remembering the reason for his visit. "Right, sorry. I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing after the fight." 

Batman nodded in acknowledgement. "We're both fine," he said, gesturing to me. "Just a few bumps and bruises, nothing serious."

Flash grinned. "That's good to hear. Well, I'll leave you two to it. Catch you later, Bats."

After Flash left, Batman turned back to me and gave me a small smile. "Where were we?" he asked, his voice low and intense.

I smiled back at him, feeling a warmth spreading through my body at his words. "Right here," I replied, leaning in for another kiss.

As we kissed, I could feel the strength of his love for me in every touch, in every movement. It was as if we were the only two people in the world, completely focused on each other.

Eventually, we pulled away from each other, both breathing heavily. Batman rested his forehead against mine and looked deep into my eyes. "I meant what I said earlier," he said softly. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. You mean everything to me."

I smiled, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "And you mean everything to me," I replied, reaching up to touch his masked face. "I love you, Bruce."

He smiled, his eyes crinkling underneath the mask. "I love you too," he said, his voice full of emotion. "More than words can say."

We stood there, lost in each other's gaze, feeling as if we were the only two people in the world. For that moment, nothing else mattered but our love for each other.

[ice-cap-k]

Owen Had a Cough

Hey! Got a new story for part of the 2024 MCYT Horror Gift exchange ( @mcythorrorgiftexchange ). This is for the amazing @some-stupid-wannabe-artist. I hope I did your request justice. It was honestly a lot of fun. Been a while since I bothered with Rats.

It's longer than my old whumptober stuff, so feel free to read it on AO3 here: Owen Had a Cough

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Owen had a cough.

It wasn’t that surprising, since Scott had found the other rat passed out at the entrance to the boiler room. His friend had been down there for a long time, breathing in air that had been festering in the quarantined room. The basement had been downright hazy with all of the airborne spores. And Owen, well, Scott figured the bigger rat had gotten off lucky if all he had to show for such a stupid stunt was a little cold. 

He told Owen what would happen if someone went in there. The larger rat could be almost impossible to sway once he set his mind to something, so of course he decided to set his sights on fixing the infestation down there. First the bugs, then the fungus. Scott just wished his best friend had told him. Then he wouldn't have found him crawling on his belly four days since the last time they saw each other.

Other than that, though, the tinkerer seemed alright. He had apologized and admitted Scott had been right. Those words would have been like music to Scott’s ears if he hadn’t been worried half to death for the sake of his friend. Owen promised to never go down there again, which had given Scott some sense of relief, and life moved on. 

The cats were still a problem. The people living downstairs still chased them and their friends whenever they ventured out of the attic. And just today there were tiny little termites they’d gone to the effort of rehoming. But hey, life in the attic was full of surprises, so even that was typically atypical. Despite looking half dead on his feet the morning before, the large rat was starting to bounce back.

He was even leading the way as they raced back up to the attic with the others. Claws scrabbled at the red carpets lining the halls. The trash talk was flowing freely, and the bathroom was in sight.

“Oh, come on. I’m already at a tactical disadvantage with this dress,” Martyn huffed. His claws hooked over the edge of the side table. Owen was already pouncing off the edge towards the mouse hole in the wall. There was no catching up now so Scott turned to help haul Martyn up. Willow and Crow passed by beneath the table legs, still aiming for the doorway. 

“Thanks, Scott,” Martyn breathed. He smoothed out the wrinkles of his maid’s dress with padded fingers as Scott leaned against a nearby plant pot. 

The ceramic was cool against the fur lining his bare back and the hall was quiet, save for the excited squeaks of the returning rats. The cats were nowhere to be seen. The human residents were busy elsewhere. They were free to enjoy themselves without worry for a little while.  How everyone else wasn’t tired yet was beyond Scott. His lungs hurt from all the running on top of all the laughter. This place was making him soft. 

“Of course,” he said absently, mind already back on the race. Even if he wasn’t physically keeping up, his eyes followed Owen as his best friend leaned out of the chewed-out hole. 

“Oh no you don’t!” he squeaked as the two smaller rats passed beneath him. 

Scott flicked his ears back as he watched Owen launch himself from the wall. His arms and legs splayed as he dropped. A star-shaped shadow passed over Willow and Crow. The two rats had just enough time to look up. They were already running, but Owen’s aim was true and he crashed into Crow with a pained WHUMPF! Both of them went rolling tail over ears across the floor, knocking over Willow in the process and leaving all three of them sprawled and groaning. 

It was just a bit of roughhousing. They were rats. Scott himself had leaped off the tallest bookshelves in the library and safely landed paws first on the tile more times than he could count. Despite knowing that, though, concern drove him forward. He pushed off the pot and was leaning over the edge of the table in an instant. His eyes raked over the three for signs of injury. His ears twitched at the rustle of fabric behind him. Martyn was there, looking over his shoulders.

“Is everybody ok?” he called.

“I’m okay,” Willow called back almost immediately

Crow managed to untangle its limbs from Owens. It rubbed at its head with a paw, claws parting strands of red and black fur until Scott could almost make out its eyes. “Owww-ow-ow-owww,” it groaned.  “That really hurt. I think you bruised my tail. What were you-”

Its words were cut off by a drawn-out, wet cough. While Willow and Crow brushed themselves off and stood up straight, Owen only rolled over. He curled up into a ball, pulling his knees up to his chest but unable to keep them there. His arms wrapped around his heaving midsection as his whole body shook. 

His coughs were like nails on a chalkboard to Scott. Wet and shaking, they wracked his friend’s lungs and rattled his ribcage with each one. 

It was easy to forget that Owen wasn’t at one hundred percent until moments like these. They weren't short either. The gaps between stolen intakes of breath were long and drawn out. The coughing fit seemed to last an eternity if eternity could be packed down and contained in the span of minutes.

“Are you okay, Owen?”

“Try taking deep breaths.”

“My mum used to say it helps to put your arms up over your head. If you can hear me, try that.”

Owen did try. It was a feeble attempt, but his arms only left his torso long enough for the tips of his fingers to reach his shoulders before another wheeze sent him curling back into himself. 

So yeah, Owen had a cough. 

Martyn whistled. His voice was quiet in Scott’s ears. “He really is getting sick. I suppose that’s what you get for not drying off after a dip in the pond.”

He didn’t answer. Only slipped off the edge of the table to rush to his friend’s side. 

Let the others think that. If Owen hadn’t told anyone else about going past the plastic sheets in the basement, then it wasn’t Scott’s place to tell that story. Owen would be so angry if he thought Scott went around telling people things he might be too embarrassed to talk about. 

“Come on now, Owen. Let’s get you up. You’re okay.” 

His friend didn’t protest as he looped his paws under the taller rat’s armpits and pulled. Now he could feel firsthand the way every muscle in Owen’s body tensed and untensed with the dwindling coughs. The way his lungs practically vibrated around the fluid there. Getting Owen upright helped. His lungs didn’t have to work so hard to keep up. Scott let him go to see if he could stand on his own, and the hacking noises subsided. He looked tired out from all that effort, but at least his breathing had returned to normal.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” He sounded tired too. 

“Ya sure,” Crow asked. There was still an edge of annoyance in its words, but it was duller now. Its tail was no longer whipping around frantically. Rather, Crow and Willow were standing close and shifting uncomfortably from side to side. 

Owen nodded. The corner of his lips pulled back into a half smile. “I’m sure. Just needed a second, but I’m good.”

“Good. Then apologize.”

“What!?” Owen looked affronted. “Why?”

Crow crossed its arms in front of its chest. “Because you cheated.”

“Did not.”

“Did so!”

“Did not! I was just being creative and came up with a new way to beat you both.” Owen’s smile lengthened to a full-blown grin as he looked from Crow to Willow. “Besides, neither of us made it to the attic so it’s not like I won at your expense.”

“You could keep going,” Martyn chimed in from where he was still standing on the tabletop. 

“Ah… I think it would be a good idea to call it a day,” Scott insisted. He wrapped a paw around Owen’s arm and gently tugged. “Let’s get behind the tub and up to the attic.

To his credit, Owen didn’t argue back or struggle. He looked too tired for that. Instead, the bigger rat let him tug him along and then kept going toward the top as Scott let him go. The tile was cool underfoot. The smell of floral soap was sweet and fresh. The path behind the tub was clear, almost like the bathroom itself was welcoming them home.

“I think that might be for the best. It’s been a long day,” Owen finally admitted, standing a little straighter as he strutted across the room. “It doesn’t really matter who wins anyhow.”

“Yeah, but I totally would have won,” Crow muttered, and Willow giggled. 

Scott smiled. This was much better. He and the others were just about to follow Owen when the sound of scrabbling caught their attention. It was coming their way. Everyone tensed, turning to see the source of the noise.

So help Scott, if that was a cat on its way-

A familiar purple shape came bobbing down the hall towards them. Scott felt himself let go of the breath he hadn’t meant to hold while the others began to relax around him. 

“Took you long enough, didn’t it,” Martyn shouted with a bark of a laugh.

The rat came to a stop behind Scott and doubled over. His breath was coming in heavy pants, despite the slow jog. The loser of the race that was no longer taking place. “Hey,” Acho finally managed to sputter as he reigned in his breathing. “What did I miss?”

___________________

Scott padded down the steps leading from his home to the main floor of the attic. 

His flower garden was still alive, despite the incoming cold, and the vegetable patch he had managed to throw together was one of the rats’ main sources of food now that snow covered the ground. The sunlight coming through the attic windows was just enough for his plants to keep growing, and it made his new home feel a little bit closer to his old one. 

Now that he had more than enough food for himself, he was consistently helping to keep everyone fed. Just earlier this morning he and Owen had sat down together for lunch. Scott had thrown together all the food. Now he was stepping away from his cooking pots with chicken soup, ready to be passed out to anyone looking for a warm meal.

He handed out full bowls to Oliver and Sniff, then Shelby, then Jimmy. With each rat fed, Scott had a nice chat to catch up before saying goodbye and moving on. When he stopped by Eloise’s art gallery, he was surprised to find El and Bek arguing inside.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that,” Bek was saying. She leaned against the wall in between frames of paintings, watching El pace back and forth. 

Not daring to say a word, Scott reached out and wrapped his knuckles against the side of the open doorframe. Thump thump thump.

The two rats looked up in surprise, only to relax as they realized it was only him. “Hey, Scott.”

“Hi!” He stepped into the room. “Brought some chicken soup.”

Bek’s ears perked up. She pulled away from the wall with a smile. “Oooh! That sounds quite good right now, actually.”

“I brought plenty for both of you. Here.” He held one bowl out to El. “And here.” Then he shuffled across the hollowed-out room to pass another to Bek. Both brightened as they took it.

“So, is everything alright?” he asked, glancing back and forth between the two. “You two looked pretty serious a second ago.”

Bek shrugged. She slurped loudly, drinking the broth directly from the edge of the bowl in loud gulps. Scott tried to offer a spare spoon, but she didn’t take it when he held it out.

“Bek, please…” Eloise groaned.

The shorter rat lowered the bowl and smacked her lips. “Sorry. I don’t think anything’s wrong. El’s just being weird about things again.”

“I am not,” the taller rat snapped. “If anyone’s being weird, it’s Owen.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Is it his cough again?”

“No.” She said immediately, then hesitated. She silently weighed her words in her head, tail flicking restlessly before she amended, “Okay, yes, technically. He was definitely still coughing today, but that’s not the real issue this time.”

The cough wasn’t the issue? What scheme could Owen possibly be getting up to this time?

Scott folded his arms in front of his chest. “Then what was the issue?”

“He’s being weird. He’s acting really weird and I don’t like it. Me and Bek got back from a pantry run and when we walked into the gallery, Owen was just… I don’t know. Sitting in a corner in the lower level?” She flung her spoon towards the open door leading to the scaffolding platform and still bare white walls that were waiting for future masterpieces. “Like, there was nobody else here. He just had his head resting against his knees, arms wrapped around his legs, like he was taking a nap. The light was off too, so I didn’t see him right away.”

Bek shivered. “Gave me a real fright, when you turned the light on and he shot to his feet. You screamed.”

“So did you,” El shot back. “Neither of us saw that he was here until the light came on.” 

Scott tilted his head. That certainly was… unusual. “Okay. Yeah. You’re right, that’s weird. What was he doing?”

“See!” Eloise straightened. She dropped the spoon back into her soup so she could scratch at the side of her head with free claws. “That’s what I asked him. All he said was that the dark felt nice, and then he rushed out.”

“Felt nice…?”

“We’ve been trying to figure out what he meant by that for the past half hour,” Bek added. “Eloise’s convinced the human girl slipped him some potion that’s turning him nocturnal-”

“We’ve already had to deal with potion issues.  I don’t understand why you think it’s so far-fetched. I still vividly remember getting turned into a CAT of all things!”

“But I think whatever cold he caught is just making him tired.” Bek finished.

He waited patiently for either of them to continue. For them to take the conversation somewhere else, or break into laughter and call it all a joke. When they didn’t, he awkwardly twitched his tail. They were both looking at him expectantly, waiting to see how he would reply. “Uh, I think Bek might be onto something.”

“See!”

Eloise was still balancing the bowl of soup in one paw, but she threw the other into the air and groaned. “Fine. Sure. I know mine sounds crazy in comparison, but neither of you saw his eyes. I swear, they were glowing when he looked at me.”

Bek scoffed. “Eyes don’t glow.”

“His did,” El insisted. “I swear, they really were glowing. Owen’s eyes aren’t supposed to be bright blue like that.”

Her words sounded sincere. There wasn’t a teasing bite, or smile pulling at the side of her lips. No twitch in the corner of her eye from struggling to keep a straight face. She was serious.

Scott’s tail went ramrod straight. “Blue? You’re sure?” 

She nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Did either of you think to go after him to check if he was alright?”

The two girls exchanged side glances before turning back to him and answering in unison.  “No.”

Of course they hadn’t.

Scott brought his paw up to his forehead. He pressed his palm against the center of his forehead as if it could chase away the headache that was starting to develop there. He took a deep breath in and sighed. “Which way did he go? I think I’m going to go check up on him and make sure everything’s alright.”

“He turned right when he ran out the door,” El said. “Not sure where he went, since he didn’t stick around long enough to let us ask. We’ll go with you and help you look for him.” She stepped forward. The now cold bowl of soup was placed on a nearby shelf next to the bowl Bek had just finished emptying. 

“We will?” Bek asked.

El nodded once more. “We will.”

Scott was grateful for the help. He didn’t argue as both girls followed him out of the gallery. With more eyes searching, they checked high and low across the attic. As they went, Scott dropped off more bowls of chicken soup and asked around if anyone had seen which way Owen went. It was Oli who eventually pointed them in the direction of the little food mart. 

Sure enough, Owen was inside the brick build rummaging through the chest inside. He pulled out a rather limp-looking bunch of lettuce leaves and began to nibble as they spotted him. 

“Owen,” Scott called. He rushed to the door with Bek and El hot on his heels. His best friend turned, eyes wide. They were notably not blue.

“Hey guys,” he greeted, waving the lettuce in his paw at them. “What’s up?” 

 “We were looking for you.”

“Yeah!”

 Eloise shoved her way forward. “What is wrong with you?!?” She had to squeeze into the small mart to do it, and the room was starting to get too cramped. Bek tried to follow, but she was too wide to fit in the small space and quickly gave up. Instead, she pressed herself against the glass window and watched with ears pinned back against her head. 

“Wh-” “Eloise and Bek told me that they saw you napping in the art gallery,” Scott supplied. 

“Oooooh, so that’s what you mean…” He looked a little sheepish as he put the leaves in his paw on top of the chest. “I wasn’t napping. I was just, you know… enjoying the dark.”

Eloise planted one paw on her hip. “You know that makes no sense whatsoever, right?”

“Don’t know what to tell you. It just felt nice. Good on the eyes, and the wall felt cool. It’s not like I thought much about it-” Before Owen could finish his sentence, Scott could hear the breath catch in his chest and rattle. The big rat doubled over, and both Scott and El backed away to give him space. Owen kept his elbow firmly over his mouth as the watery coughs took hold. When he finally managed to reign his breathing back in, he lowered his arm and opened his eyes.

Scott could have sworn he saw the briefest flicker of blue. Or maybe green? Something bright and alien to Owen’s dark eyes. But the color was there and gone in the blink of an eye. Had he just imagined it? Perhaps it was a trick of the light?

“Well, maybe you should go back to your clock and take a nap,” El snapped. She looked disgusted as she backed out of the room. “Get some good rest and get over that cold.” 

Owen let himself slump against the side of the food chest. “That… that might not be a bad idea,” he admitted. “The going back to the clock part. No promises on the nap.” 

Where seconds ago Owen had seemed content and full of life, the sudden coughing fit appeared to have drained all of that out of him. He looked tired now. Drawn out. Like some of the color had leached right out of him. It hadn’t even been that violent or lengthy of a fit. He often had much worse as of late.

Not to be put off by Eloise’s reaction, Scott readily offered his paw out to Owen. “How about we all go back to your clock? I’ve got plenty of chicken soup you can have if you get hungry.”

“That does sound pretty nice...”

Owen took his offered paw, and Scott tried not to focus on the way Owen’s fingers felt clammy and cold between his claws.

____________________

Christmas time was getting close and the attic was abuzz with excitement. Plans for a Secret Santa gift exchange were underway. All the rats were finding themselves a part of the holiday season rush as they prepared their gifts. 

Martyn had taken charge of this one. He had set up the whole event, convincing everyone that the best way to celebrate the Christmas season was with homemade gifts from the heart. He had set up the raffle to decide who would be giving their gifts to whom. He was the one who had set up the post box outside of the bar for everyone to submit their names for the event. He had even done up the entire building in some of the most over-the-top seasonal decor Scott had ever seen and the farm rat was loving it. 

Tis the season, and Scott was embracing it as much as anyone. He had already planned on giving a gift to everyone, but there was no way he was going to turn down the opportunity to join in on a Secret Santa. That just meant that the name on his list would get two presents instead of one. Scott was ready to go all out for it. 

Yes, it seemed like the holiday season had started to help some of the rats calm down and put to rest some of the old squabbles that had been going on for some time now. They had something to focus on, nice deeds to do, super cute decorations to put up, and the occasional visitor coming in from the cold outside to make their day a little more topsy turvy. That was where most of the excitement came from nowadays: the random people who just sort of showed up. Other than them, life in the attic was pretty peaceful.

So Scott was surprised when, late one night when he was ready to drop off his note at the bar post box, he heard frantic shouting and horrible retching noises. 

He froze about ten paces away from the bar. His fingers clutched tight around his book as something slammed and there was another shout. What on Earth was going on? 

He swiveled his ears to get a better listen. That was Martyn’s voice. What he thought was incoherent shouting turned into panicked, somewhat broken words. 

“Oh geez. I can’t believe… Ugh! Oh, come on! Why you… I just- You know, you’re lucky I don’t bar you from the bar again. Keep it in the can. That’s it. Deep breaths… There you are. Oh! Uh… Good lord! That’s so gross. You know, I’ve already got one crime seen taped off at this establishment! I don’t need another!”

Martyn’s babbling was repeatedly broken up by the sound of someone gagging and the splash of something wet hitting metal. 

Scott crept forward on soft paw steps. He was not sure what he had stumbled upon, but Martyn sounded close. Keeping his tail low to the ground and book against his chest, Scott inched his way around the side of the building until he could make out Martyn’s back in the dim lighting. 

Martyn’s ears were pinned against his head. His tail twisted with discomfort, and his eyes were looking everywhere but at the figure slumped over the tin can next to him. He was rubbing his scarred arm back and forth along their back like he was trying to comfort them, but the motions were stiff. 

Another retch split the air. Another sound like a garden hose being switched on, and the figure’s shoulders heaved. Martyn flinched. 

“You didn’t even have anything to drink,” the barkeeper mumbled.

“Is everything alright?” Scott called.

Martyn patted the other person’s back once more before turning to face him. He looked queasy himself. “We’ve got a bit of a mess in the bar right now,” he said with a grimace. “I wouldn’t suggest going in there at the moment.” 

“And who is that? Are they alright?”

“It’s Owen,” Martyn said simply. 

Sure enough, the next gag turned into a cough so ragged it sounded like ripping fabric.

“And I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know if he is alright,” Martyn continued. “He came here asking about details for the Secret Santa. Seemed fine one moment, and then threw up all over the entryway the next. And the counter. And my back room when I tried to bring him out here.” He gestured towards the bar’s back door. There were a few wet spots near the doorway that Martyn pointed to that Scott didn’t want to focus on too closely. “And before you ask, I didn’t pour him so much as a glass. Alcohol’s got nothing to do with this one.”

“I can believe that,” Scott nodded. He dared to inch closer. A sour smell hit his sensitive nose when he came within a tail’s length of the two other rats. Sure enough, it was Owen. His goggles had been tossed to the side, out of the way as his head hung in the tin can Martyn was using as a rubbish bin. His clothes looked crumpled and wrinkled. His tail and ears hung limp. “Oh, Owen,” he breathed, already pitying his poor friend. 

“Hey, Scott…” Owen’s words echoed and warped around the edges of the can. His voice sounded small.

“Are you feeling worse?”

“I’m fine.”

Martyn snorted. “Tell that to my carpets.” 

Owen’s ears drooped a little bit lower. “Sorry about that.” 

The apology seemed to take Martyn off-guard. Owen didn’t normally apologize so easily. Not without a couple of jokes or light teasing mixed in for good fun. It made Scott want to ask his friend ‘What’s wrong with you,’ but he knew he probably wouldn’t get an honest answer, let alone an honest one. 

“That’s alright,” Martyn finally said, giving Owen another gentle pat on the back. “I’ll just clean it up-” Owen pitched forward into the can again and dry heaved. Martyn yanked his paw away and stuck his tongue out, clearly struggling not to gag as well. “I’ll clean it up later. Blegh!”

Scott stepped up to place his paw on Owen’s shoulder. His grip tightened slightly when Owen’s heaving stopped and his friend relaxed into his grip. “You go ahead and clean up your bar now, Martyn. I can stay out here with him for a while.”

Martyn’s blue eyes narrowed at him. He almost looked relieved as he glanced back and forth between Owen and Scott. Only the twitching of his tail tip hinted at his hesitance to leave Owen while he was still like this. “You sure?”

“It’s fine. He’s my best friend. I can watch him.”

That seemed to be enough to convince the barkeeper. “Thanks, Scott. I’ll come back out here once I take care of Owen’s mess.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Owen grunted into the can.

“I know,” Martyn said before stepping back into the bar and pulling the back door closed behind him. 

The back of the bar was quiet for a moment. The only noise was the slight scrape of Owen’s nails against the bin and the rise and fall of their breathing. Scott was half afraid that if he tried breaking the silence, the pause in Owen’s coughing and retching would end and all of his troubles would come rushing back. Instead, Scott lowered himself onto the floor where there didn’t seem to be any suspicious-looking puddles. He crossed his legs out in front of him and pressed one shoulder against Owen’s side. 

It was Owen who broke the silence first. “Why are you here, Scott?” His voice didn’t sound so small this time. 

Scott shrugged. “I was going to turn in my book for Secret Santa when I heard the commotion.”

“Oh…”

“You?”

“Something similar. I wanted to talk to Martyn about the chances of someone not being able to make it to the gift exchange.” 

“What did he say?”

“That a gift could be given to someone else who can give it to the right person on the day of. Or we could just arrange to swap gifts with a delivery. I didn’t get the chance to ask him about when it would get delivered.”

“Oh.” 

They fell into silence once more. A moment passed where Scott could feel Owen shiver. His muscles locked up and claws dug into the rim of the can. Scott braced himself for the sound of gagging, but it never came. Owen’s breath quickened, then gradually slowed back down. His muscles untensed, and the threat passed. As he relaxed, he let himself slide down the side of the can to sit next to Scott. 

When Scott looked over, his dark eyes flickered blue-green in the low light.

“I really think I might be okay now,” he said slowly. “I think the worst of it has passed.”

“You should still stay right here, just in case. I don’t think you should be taking any chances right now.”

Owen winced. “I think that’s fair.” 

“You’re sick.”

“Maybe,” Owen huffed. Even now, he couldn’t sit back and accept that it might be true. “I could have just had something bad to eat.”

“What have you eaten so far today?”

Owen’s face instantly fell into a regretful frown. “Or maybe not. It probably wasn’t the food.”

“Why? What all did you eat?”

“The last thing I ate was the dinner you offered me.”

Scott had prepared a nice picnic basket with cabbage rolls, fruit salad, and ratatouille. They had enjoyed a nice outing on Owen’s balcony, bundled up against the brisk winter chill. They were all dishes Scott had made countless times before. None of them could possibly have made Owen that ill. 

Before Scott could ask him about lunch, the other rat hunched his shoulders and started coughing once more. It was gargled and sharp. The ripping noises that shook his lungs were enough to make Scott want to pull his chef’s hat down over his ears to keep the sound out. As the sound of Owen's hacking grew weaker and eventually died out, Scott watched Owen turn to spit into the can. 

“Your cough doesn’t seem to be getting any better,” Scott mused. 

“I know…” he said, annoyance and exhaustion evident in his voice. “It’s such a pain and it won’t go away.”

“Have you been resting?” 

“As much as normal.”

“Any more weird instances of hiding in dark rooms?”

“Scott…” Owen’s tone was bitter.

“I’m not going to complain. Getting a few more naps in would be good for you. So have you?”

“Maybe, but it’s not napping.”

“Uh-huh.” Scott didn’t believe him. “It’s winter, Owen. You never really stopped to slow down after you went into the basement. I think if you want it to get any better, you should take a few days and stay in bed.”

Rather than complain, or wave Scott off and say that he was fine, Owen seemed to seriously consider his words. His arm snaked over his waist. He clutched at his stomach like it was threatening to spill its contents again. “Do you think that would help?”

“I don’t think it would make anything worse to try.”

Owen brought his head up only to let it fall back against the can. Thunk! “Aw, but it’s going to be boring staying in bed all day.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll come to visit. And so will the others. We’ll keep you busy while you take it easy.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

“Good. Can we get out of here now, then? I think I want to go home.”

Scott pointed to the paw still wrapped around Owen’s waist. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Honestly…yeah,” he said. The grip he had on his stomach loosened. “It doesn’t feel like my stomach is on the edge of bursting anymore. It kind of feels stable now, you know?”

“Mm-hm,” Scott hummed. He bumped his shoulder once more against Owen’s and then unwound his legs so he could stand up. “I’ll go tell Martyn we’re going to get you home.” 

The barkeeper hadn’t made his way back out to them yet. Scott had a feeling it would be a while before Martyn finished cleaning his bar up. While Owen and Martyn didn’t always see eye to eye, Martyn would probably appreciate being told that they were leaving. The alternative would mean heading out without saying a word and letting Martyn come back to an empty back of the bar and no clue whether Owen was alright. Considering how he had been trying to comfort Owen when Scott first got here, it was probably safe to assume Martyn would appreciate the heads-up.

That and Scott still had his book to drop off. He was already here, after all.

Owen thumped the back of his head against the can once more. He tilted his head back so he could smile appreciatively up at Scott.  “Thank you.”

“And I’m going to ask if he has a bag or something we can take with us, in case you get sick again on the way back.”

The smile fell into a frown so suddenly, that Scott couldn’t help but laugh.

He brushed his dungarees off as he stood. His tail, cramped from being sat on for so long, gave an experimental wave to work the pins and needles out. Then he picked his way past Owen and the can.

Some morbid curiosity took hold of Scott at that moment. Before he reached the door, his gaze passed over the rim of the rubbish bin. It was still pretty dark, but he could make out the wet shine of the puddle at the bottom. 

Scott was no doctor, but he guessed that the dark red tinge to it wasn’t natural. Not considering what Owen had claimed to eat most recently.  Nor were the fleshy, glowing cyan chunks floating on top.

___________________________

Owen was finally getting some rest. 

Scott didn’t even have to beg him to stay in bed. He didn’t have to pester his friend with apologies and nervous requests to stay put. Owen didn’t fight him on anything anymore and didn’t complain about being cooped up in his room at the top of the clock.

That’s how bad it was.

It had Scott on edge.

The farmer rat couldn’t sit still. He busied himself coming over to visit all the time. Owen’s clock wasn’t messy, but Scott busied himself trying to clean some of the lower levels. He chewed on chunks of wood and wool, shaping them into nice things he could work into his Christmas gifts for the others. And when he ran out of ideas for things to do with what was already here, he took it upon himself to bring his hobbies closer and reduce his number of trips away from the clock.

Owen didn’t have a kitchen, but that didn’t stop Scott from hauling over his pots, pans, or even an entire stove so he didn’t have to stray too far to cook up a few meals. 

Most bowls and platefuls went to the many rats who came to visit their bedridden friend. It gave them a chance to stick around longer if they had a meal at the ready. Some meals were brought up to Owen. Soups proved especially difficult to carry while climbing up the gears to Owen’s room, but Owen was always grateful to Scott for bringing them. A few dishes were whipped up purely for himself. A rat’s gotta feed himself, too. 

Every time he poked his head into the dark bedroom, he would catch a flicker of blue-green before Owen registered that he was there and would greet him. Once, Scott made no attempt to make his presence known when he entered the bedroom. He didn’t knock against the door frame or call out, assuming that Owen would simply spot him in a moment or two. He did not. Scott waited, and waited, and watched as Owen simply stared at the blank wall. There was nothing to see. It was too dark for him to make out the natural grain of the wood. His unfocused eyes stared, and now Scott fully believed Eloise’s claim that Owen’s eyes glowed in the dark. 

And yes, Owen still had the cough.

A couple of days on bed rest seemed to have no effect on the malady. If anything, it was worse. They kept a thimble on the side of the bed at all times now. When Owen felt a coughing fit coming on, he would reach for the bucket and hold it close. As the coughs shook his body, he would sometimes cough up… something.

The first time Owen coughed it up, they hadn’t thought to have the thimble nearby. His friend had done the best he could and leaned over the side of the bed when something solid and wet went splat against the wooden floorboards. Scott had to clean that one up. Whatever it could have been was solid. Soft, but solid. Pulpy. It was always an unnatural mix of teal and orange.

Funny. He normally liked those colors together. Now though… This wasn’t cute.

The night behind the bar had been dim, but he still recognized it as the stuff he had seen in the tin can.

Scott had no clue what it was supposed to be.

After that, Scott made sure Owen had a thimble at all times. He instructed his friend to cough into it whenever he could. Then Scott could take care of the mess later. 

That proved to be somewhat difficult. Not even trash rat would bother with it. They were banned from tossing it in his dumpster. Scott was left to try digging shallow holes in the frozen ground outside to bury it or burn it in the family room fireplace when the coast was clear of cats.

He came back from one of those expeditions to find Eloise and Bek standing outside Owen’s clock.

“How’s he doing?” El asked as he approached.

Scott shrugged. “He’s still sick. Still coughing.”

“That bites.” Bek kicked her bare foot against the floorboard with a frown. She cast her gaze across the rest of the attic, eyes lingering on their neighbors’ homes. “It’s a shame there are no doctors up here.”

“I agree. None of the home remedies that we used on the farm are working.” He patted his palm against the thimble. Claws clicked against its side on impact. “I just got done emptying this for, what? The fourth time today? You don’t suppose the humans downstairs have some medicine?”

Eloise tilted her head. “That work on rats? I doubt it.” 

“Want some help?” Bek offered. 

El reached into her pocket and pulled out something that looked like a covered bowl. Through the see-through top, Scott could make out a bright red-ish orange liquid sloshing around. It was thicker than water or juice. As she held it out towards him, something spicy made his nose twitch. “Yeah. As I said, no doctors here, but I had a thought,” she said. “How about a home remedy? Back in the city, there were these places that sold food. And in their kitchens, they had all these pretty bottles of tasty sauces. There was one my family would use whenever we got sick. Called it hot sauce. Burned going down, but it helped clear the sinuses.”

Scott tilted his head. “He’s coughing, El. Not sneezing or blowing his nose. I’m not sure that will work.”

“Aren’t those things normally connected?”

“Are they?”

“Probably,” Bek chimed in with a noncommittal shrug. 

Scott’s tail lashed as he considered his options. That stuff smelled pretty strong. She called it a sauce, so it was like food. “He’s supposed to eat it?”

Eloise nodded. “We would put it on our dinner.”

At worst, they could run to get Owen some milk if it was too hot. He didn’t think a bite of something spicy would necessarily make the cough worse.  

“Sure,” he relented. “I guess it’s worth a shot. Come on. Let’s run it by Owen and see what he thinks.” He waved towards the opening at the base of the grandfather clock and started padding towards the entrance. The three of them shuffled inside, only to be greeted by the muffled sound of coughing. Scott sighed. “There he goes again.” 

“He sounds worse,” Eloise said, tipping her head to look up past the levels of gears lining the inside of the clock. 

“It’s dark, too,” Bek noted. “Is he doing that thing where he hides in the dark?”

“He’s still in the bed. Not hiding,” Scott supplied. “But the dark seems to help.”

She clicked her tongue. “Rather odd.”

He wasn’t about to disagree. 

The two girls waited long enough for him to grab a bowl full of chicken soup from his pot. They could put the sauce into that for Owen to try. Then they scrabbled up the gears to the sound of Owen’s hacking and wheezing. It drowned out the sound of their claws scraping against brass and nickel. It took a few leaps, and both El and Scott had to help Bek pull herself up the last ledge. 

Owen was still coughing as they reached to top. Scott’s ears drooped as he heard a pained wheeze between intakes of breath. He could tell the sick rat was getting tired. 

“Owen!” Scott called as he led the two girls toward their friend's room. “You alright? Eloise and Bek came by.”

“Hey th-” Owen couldn’t even finish up the greeting as they stepped into the room. He was curled up in bed, gripping the covers as he leaned over and shook with each raspy breath. Scott picked up the pace until he was at the bedside, holding the thimble out for his friend. Owen took it with a shaking paw. He gripped it in his lap, but this bought appeared to only be a cough. 

When it finally began to slow, Owen took a deep, deliberate breath, and breathed out a “Hi.”

“You look worse than something one of the cats coughed up,” Bek said bluntly. El smacked her shoulder and Scott pinned back his ears, but Owen smiled at the jab, so the farm rat didn’t audibly gasp in horror like he wanted to.

“I’d rather take getting chewed out by the cats at this point,” Owen said, his voice all but shot. 

“No you wouldn’t,” Scott corrected. Owen didn’t argue. 

“Well,” El started, holding out the covered bowl of hot sauce for him to see. “I brought something with me, that might be able to help.” Again, she explained what was in the bowl. How it was spicy and full of flavor. How at her old home they would use it to help clear their stuffy noses and make it a little easier to breathe.

Then Scott showed him the bowl of broth he brought up. “I brought some soup we could mix it into if you think it’s worth a shot. It should tone down some of the flavor and make it easier to eat.”

Owen wrinkled his nose. “Not the biggest fan of spicy food, but if there’s a chance it’ll work then it’s worth a shot.”

“You sure,” Eloise and Scott asked at the same time.

He nodded and reached out towards the bowl in Scott’s paw. “Got a spoon?”

Of course Scott brought a spoon. 

Eloise popped the cover off her bowl and tilted it. Scott brought the broth underneath the rim to catch a few drops before swirling the angry orange sauce in. Since El was the one who knew about the home remedy, he let her judge how much to put in. She let a few more drops dribble into the broth before pulling back her bowl and covering it back up.

“That should probably be enough,” she said with a flick of her tail tip. “Don’t want to overdo it.”

“How spicy is it,” Owen asked nervously.

“It is hot sauce, so pretty spicy.”

Owen slunk a little deeper under the covers. “What if it’s too hot?”

“Well, you want it to be hot if it’s going to work.”

“Uh… Actually… I don’t know about this anymore, guys.”

Bek snorted. “Don’t be such a baby.”

“I am not! Fine.” In the blink of an eye, Owen snatched the soup bowl and spoon out from Scott’s paws. “This better work,” he grumbled, before ladling a spoonful of the liquid into his mouth.

Scott held his breath for a moment as he watched Owen swallow. His friend blinked rapidly at the taste, clearly uncomfortable. But he went for another spoonful and downed that as well. He handed it back to Scott with more than half the broth left. 

“Feeling any better?” Bek asked brightly.

He held up one claw as if asking her to wait. His face contorted against the heat. His breathing became heavy and drawn out, but that was good, wasn’t it? Those were the deepest breaths Scott had heard Owen manage in a while. 

“Did it help?” he pressed when Owen didn’t answer.

In less than a second, Owen’s demeanor changed. He went from tense patience, face screwed up with discomfort at the taste, to twitching and thrashing silently. So silently, in fact, that they even couldn’t hear him breathe. 

Scott’s blood ran cold.

Owen wasn’t coughing anymore. Wasn’t gagging. He was wheezing. Gasping. Ribcage rattling. Convulsing. his back arched. He writhed beneath the blanket so wildly that it knocked the covers from the bed entirely.  Both paws went to the base of his neck and gripped at the soft tissue there, claws raking along the exposed surface. Angry red marks flared up against his skin, visible beneath his fur. 

“Oh my god he’s choking,” Bek shrieked.

Her words hit Scott hard, knocking his brain back into action. “H-how?!?! It was just chicken broth!” He didn’t understand. There weren’t any noodles or chunks of chicken or vegetables to worry about swallowing. 

He dropped the bowl and spoon in his paws, not caring when they clattered to the floor and sent broth splattered everywhere. It didn’t matter. What mattered was getting his best friend breathing again. Scott reached under Owen’s armpit and hauled the other rat closer to the side of the bed where the rest of them could reach him more easily. He bucked in Scott’s grip. He almost completely lost his hold on the other rat’s arm as Owen kept reaching for his neck. Not sure what else to do, Scott started pounding on Owen’s back with the base of his palm, praying it would knock his airwaves free. “What could he possibly be choking on?!”

“No no no! You’re doing it wrong.” Bek shoved him to the side and took over, wrapping her arms around Owen’s chest from behind. The back of his head nearly smashed into her forehead as he struggled to breathe, but she gripped tight. “You gotta do it like in the movies.” With that, she started pounding her fist up and in just below his sternum.

Scott was grasping at straws. Reacting instinctively without knowing what would help or why. Let alone how this could have gone so wrong. He rushed around the bed to the other side so he could face Owen. He passed El, who still stood shaking against the wall. He’d ask her to help, but what could she do, really? 

Scott crawled up onto the bed with Owen. He intended to hold Owen’s paws to keep them from knocking into Bek as she continued to attempt to force out whatever was caught in his throat. Before he reached out, though, Owen shifted his paws from scratching at his throat to clawing at the sides of his mouth. 

There, just visible past the foremost incisors, something was glowing at the back of Owen’s mouth.

Something teal. Something orange.

Thoughts of the fleshy thimblefuls Scott had been doing his best to throw away swam to the forefront of his mind.  The glow shook and strobed with every desperate attempt for air. The lumpy shapes the glow emanated from shook and wobbled as Owen opened his mouth wider and wider. Scott’s muscles locked up. He couldn’t have willed himself forward if he wanted to. Couldn’t think straight enough for it to occur to him to try. He watched as Owen tried reaching into his own mouth with desperate claws and scraped at what was inside. 

Bek gave another heave, knocking Owen’s paw away from his mouth with enough force for his flailing claws to rip a tear in his lip. Something hooked on his claw came loose, and with a wet plop, it fell onto the bedspread in front of Scott. 

It looked like part of a mushroom cap. 

A very familiar teal mushroom with glowing orange splotches. 

Something clicked in the back of Scott’s numb mind that this was probably what had been in those thimbles, although less smashed up and not swimming in bile. This cap was far more sturdy. He could still make out the delicate edges of gills lining the underside. The damaged end was blackened and wilted. The entire piece still glowed, despite being severed from the rest of the larger body. 

He had warned Owen about those awful mushrooms. 

Why couldn’t his friend have just trusted him and gone through with burning it?

“It’s not working,” Bek cried. She let go of Owen, cradling her wrists. Bruises were already becoming visible there beneath pale fur.

Scott blinked. 

Owen was reaching with one paw for his mouth again. The glowing shapes there were clearer than they were a second ago. More sharply defined. Larger. Scott could hardly believe what he was seeing as caps pressed against the backs of Owen’s teeth, threatened to grow out right past his lips. Owen was grabbing at them. Clawing at them. Pulling fistfuls of crushed mushroom stems and caps. Scott reached forward with a half-baked thought to help rip more away, but Owen smacked his paw away before he could get close. Owen’s other paw was reaching up towards some unseen point on the ceiling with eyes that were glassy and blank. Color flickered in the pupils. 

Orange, teal, orange, teal, orange, teal…

Scott whirled to look at Eloise. “GO GET HELP!!!”

She hadn’t so much as moved from her spot by the wall. At Scott’s words, her shocked face blanched. She was shaking in fear and reached for Bek like the smaller rat was a lifeline. “WHO DO I GET!?!”

“I DON’T KNOW!”

POP!

Owen fell limp.

Scott turned back to stare down at his best friend, too frozen in shock to move, dread pulsing through his veins where his heart stopped beating. “Owen…” he whimpered. The name sounded fuzzy to his ears through the radio static of his own thoughts. 

Owen’s chest was moving. Barely, but it was. Scott could see it rising and falling with short, shallow breaths. 

“Owen, please…” 

Please what? Answer? Survive? Be okay? 

The two girls gripped at each other. They stood in front of the entrance, their shadows falling over Owen in the bed. Through their quivering dark shapes, Owen’s eyes blazed.

Orange, teal, orange, teal, orange, teal…

“No more of that.”

Scott pealed his ears up away from where he had pinned them flat against the back of his head. “Owen?” His voice cracked. Owen’s voice sounded… hollow.

The fallen rat’s chest twitched. His arms drew in closer to his sides. His legs spread out over the sheets. Scott scrambled away to make room for his friend as a foot passed by where he had been kneeling on the bed. Every movement was agonizingly slow. Pained. 

“W-what d-do you mean?” El stuttered. “Y-you gave us a r-real fright, there.”

“I mean no more of that.” Owen’s voice sounded empty. Distant. Scott couldn’t make out his friend’s mouth moving in the dim lighting. Not at this angle. Considering what he had just seen, it was shockingly clear considering all the mushrooms he had to be talking around. “Whatever that was, it burned. No more burning us.”

One of Bek’s ears swiveled. “Uh… ‘us’? What do you mean ‘us’?”

With a long, labored heave that looked unnaturally limp, Owen’s head lolled back as he pushed himself up shoulders first. He sat up. 

Orange, teal, orange, teal, orange, teal… 

“Us.”

It wasn’t just Owen’s eyes that glowed anymore. They were vacant. Glassy, empty eyes with irises that flashed back and forth. But below his eyes, crawling out from the cracks in his mouth, flowing down with the line of blood escaping the cut on his lip, curling around his front teeth, were mushrooms. Many, many, many mushrooms. 

“We won’t let you burn us again,” came Owen’s voice, but it wasn’t Owen. It couldn’t be. His mouth didn’t move. His shallow breathing, now growing even shallower, hadn’t hitched or changed. Rather, with each rise and fall of the syllables, the glowing orange splotches strobed brighter. 

“No more heat. No more burning.” 

Orange, teal, orange, teal, orange, teal. Bright, dim, bright, dim, bright, dim. 

“Just the damp. Just the dark. Like me. Like you…”

He turned to Scott, but he didn’t actually look at Scott. Those eyes stared straight ahead. The pupils were so dilated, he couldn’t be focusing on anything in front of him. His head tilted, ears falling limply with the motion. 

“Hey Scott.” The mushrooms blinked with the hollow words. “You were helping me. Now I think you should help us…”

Owen lurched forward, reaching out for the nearest one of them. His claws brushed Scott’s arms and Scott leaped back. 

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

He shrieked. Behind him, Bek and Eloise screamed as well. They scrambled back as Owen pushed forward out of the bed. Every movement was sluggish and stilted. His muscles quivered with distress and his legs shook as he stood up, but he WAS up. And he was coming right for them. 

They bolted. All three dropped onto all fours and scrabbled through Owen’s house as fast as their paws could carry them. 

This was a nightmare. It had to be. Scott knew the mushrooms were dangerous, but whatever this was had to be something else. However, when Scott slipped on the carpet in the hall and slammed shoulder-first into the wall, the pain sent dark spots dancing across his eyes.

Dreams weren’t supposed to be this painful.

The three of them were halfway down the gears when Owen’s distant voice met their ears. It still had that hollow ring to it. “Come on Scott. Come on guys. You wanted to help me, right? Then come back. The dark is better.”

Scott clenched his claws and dared to look up. He couldn’t see Owen past the ledge. 

“Scott… Eloise… Bek… I thought you wanted to help?”

A shiver passed down Scott’s spine. Owen didn’t sound any closer. He wasn’t chasing them. He let go of the gears, allowing himself to drop the rest of the way to land heavily alongside the girls. The three of them looked up 

“Are you still there, guys?”

El placed a finger over her lips and glared at Scott and Bek. She flicked her eyes off to the side and waved in the direction of Owen’s mudroom. It didn’t take much to figure out what she meant. Scott and Bek shared a glance, then nodded and followed her around the corner. 

As soon as they were all packed into the cramped room like sardines in a can, Scott pulled the door closed behind him. She dropped the finger from in front of her mouth. 

“What do we do!? What do WE DO!?!?” she whispered frantically.

“I DON’T KNOW!”

They all scrambled, moving back and forth as much as they could in the small space as they talked over each other in a panic.

“Is he coming!?”

“I don’t think so.”

“It didn’t sound like it.”

“I don’t think we can be sure.”

“The door’s closed even if he was.”

“That just means we’d be trapped.”

“I don’t think he’s coming, though.”

“What even happened?”

“It’s those mushrooms,” Scott babbled, words flowing out of his mouth as quickly as they passed through his head. “Those were the mushrooms from the garden that we burned. I’d recognize them anywhere. They were in him! My god, his mouth was full of them. He was coughing them up all this time and I didn’t even realize-”

Eloise cut through his panicked rambling to grab him by the shoulders and give him a shake. “You’re the expert here on those things. Did you know they could do that?”

“Of course not!”

“Okay,” Bek started. “So a bunch of angry mushrooms were making Owen sick and now he’s…” She opened and closed her mouth a few times, but could not find the words. She helplessly gestured to the mudroom’s ceiling, approximately in the same direction as Owen’s room. “That. Now he’s like that. Didn’t the mushrooms from the garden get burned?”

“Yeah,” El hissed. “That took care of them last time. Should we try that again?”

“And do what?” Scott wanted to shout, but he strained to keep his volume down low. “Set Owen on fire?!?”

El blinked, her face going blank. “Right. Might need to think of something better.”

“What about what he said,” Bek said, her whisper now bordering on becoming a shout. “He said that something burned.”

“Yeah, the hot sauce,” El said dismissively. “I’m sure it was spicy and hot and everything I said it would be but that doesn’t actually help us now because it doesn’t actually burn things like a fire, now does it?!” 

“But he- it- they- whatever that was- I don’t know?! It didn’t seem to like it.”

“So you’re saying it caused this?”

“Those mushrooms were already in his system,” Scott admitted. “He was throwing them up for a while now. Whatever this is was already in him.”

“So the hot sauce made it worse? It pissed some bloody mushrooms off and made Owen…” Eloise didn’t even know how to finish her sentence. She threw her paw up in the air and turned. She pressed one of her knuckles against her forehead. 

Scott ran through everything he knew about the fungus in his head. From his early days on the farm, where he had seen the brightly colored caps from afar, to the blight they caused, and the wildlife that choked on their spores until they couldn’t breathe. The awful way it spread in the dark, closed-off spaces. Places like the basement.  

Places like Owen’s lungs. 

He shook his head. Now was not the time to dwell on that. 

At the farm, the only thing the farmers could do was burn it. Gather it up in a neat pile and set the whole thing ablaze. Even if there were a few mycelium roots below the surface, if they set the fire close enough to the patch, the heat still managed to leach through the topsoil and kill it off. 

Hot sauce didn’t put off real heat. Not like that. But the mushrooms reacted to it. He didn’t know if his parents had ever tried any irritants against something like that. Acid wasn’t necessarily available to a family of rodents working the field. 

He thought of the partially blackened piece of mushroom Owen had clawed out of his mouth. 

“Okay… I think… I think your hot sauce might have helped, actually.”

El pulled her knuckle from her forehead and looked at him from the corner of her eye. “You’re joking.”

“That’s what I was saying,” Bek exclaimed. All pretenses of keeping her voice down were tossed out the window. “It was mad about how hot it was. What if hot flavors work just like hot fires.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Probably. But I saw a piece break off that looked burned, and I know for a fact Owen hasn’t been around a fire for some time. I don’t know if it works like some sort of acid, but it did something.”

“Yeah,” El huffed. “It made him like THAT . Worse!”

Bek rolled her eyes. “That just means we didn’t use enough.”

Scott pointed to the smaller rat. “What she said.”

Bek didn’t seem to be prepared for him to agree with her so easily. Her eyes flew wide and her tail went ramrod straight. “What?!”

“I think you’re, right, Bek. I think we need to try using more.”

“But you- I thought- I can’t believe-” Eloise sputtered. Her paws waved uselessly in the air, grasping at straws. Finally, she gave up on trying to find an argument and slumped forward. “Fine.” She pulled the small covered bowl out. “I suppose it doesn’t hurt to try.”

“Great! Now we just need to figure out how to do that,” Scott said as he leaned his back against the door.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

“Is it nice and dark in there?”

All three rats stiffened at the sound of Owen’s voice filtering through the cracks in the door. Scott’s heart outright skipped a beat as he pushed off the door, trying to put as much distance between him and the door as he could. Considering the small mudroom, it wasn’t much. He hurtled into Bek and Eloise, who were pressing themselves through the hanging coats and boots against the furthest corner of the room. Something fell at his side. He tore his eyes away from the door long enough to see Eloise’s covered bowl of hot sauce bounce once off the floor and go rolling.

Squeak… click!

The doorknob turned and swung open. Blinking orange lights strobed across the room as Owen stepped inside. 

“Well, would you look at that?”

Orange, teal, orange, teal, orange, teal. Bright, dim, bright, dim, bright, dim. 

“It is dark in here. I knew you guys wanted to help.”

“O-Owen…” Scott said shakily. He pressed himself further into Bek and Eloise’s sides. “I-I thought you were upstairs in y-your room?”

“But you guys came down here,” he said through a mouth that did not form the words. His blank eyes passed over the room. “You can’t help when you’re down here and I’m up there.”

“Help with what,” El demanded.

“Us. And you.”

He took a stilted step forward, and every fiber of Scott’s being screamed at him to run.

“Go! Go! Go!” He squeaked, shoving Bek and El aside. Owen stood between them and the door, but he couldn’t stop all of them if they tried to go around them. 

Of course, that didn’t mean they would all be able to get out scot-free. 

Because Owen’s claws wrapped around the strap of Scott’s dungarees before he could make it past. 

His best friend’s paw gripped like a vice. His grip was so white-knuckled tight that it shook as he yanked. Scott was too busy trying to run forward to get a good grip on the floor with the soles of his feet. They slipped out from under him and the farm rat found himself suspended for a moment, staring at the retreating backs of the girls before his back hit the ground. 

Owen’s flashing eyes appeared over him. 

Orange, teal, orange, teal, orange.

“Hey, Scott,” the mushrooms glowed down at him. 

Scott tried to pull away, but Owen still had a grip on the strap. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the bowl Eloise had dropped. It was still covered and clean on the wooden floor, right there next to a set of boots. Scott reached for it. His claws brushed the rim, only for the strap of his dungarees yanked back once more. He couldn’t budge an inch as Owen forced the strap down against the wood planks, pinning him to the floor. The bowl rolled uselessly out of his line of sight.

“What are you doing,” Scott squeaked, voice small. His ears tried to swivel back to lay against his head, but they could only press uselessly against the floor. 

“Helping us,” the mushrooms in Owen’s mouth blinked. “Don’t worry, Scott. It’s not so bad. A little time, a bit of coughing… you’ll barely notice.”

Dread clawed at the pit of Scott’s stomach. Owen was still looking at him blankly, but the mushroom caps in his mouth flared. The gills widened, revealing dotted dark pores between their inner layers. Scott could make out the dark spore particles between them. The dread dug those claws in and yanked.

“Owen! Owen please- I don’t- I- I- Please don’t-”

“Take this!”

Owen tore his glowing eyes off Scott. The moment his head tilted back, the open end of a bowl hit him square in the center of his face. Rivulets of red-orange liquid sprayed out along the side of his head. It caught in his hair and dripped down his jaw, and when the bowl fell away, his entire face was covered in Eloise’s hot sauce. 

Bek stood in the door frame, wide-eyed, arm outstretched in front of her, utterly shocked that she had hit her mark.

The squeak of pain Owen let out made Scott flinch. He wanted to curl into a ball and cover his ears against the sheer agony that would have shredded Owen’s voice box if he was actually using it. Scott instead dug his heels into the floor and slid back as far as he could. Claws wrapped around his shoulders. To his relief, Bek had rushed to his side. She and El each took an arm and helped him up while Owen backed away. The slow, pained movements were now even shakier as he reached to wipe at the sauce covering his face.

Wherever the sauce touched the mushrooms, the stems and caps twitched and shriveled.  Steam hissed, bubbles popping along their wet surface as the lukewarm liquid wreaked havoc on them. Burnt, dried-out stems fell from between his lips and crumbled against the floor. 

A rather large mushroom broke free, falling to the floor. Owen let out a gasp. The sudden breath was heavier than what he had managed since the mushrooms appeared, and it triggered a cough. The same kind of heavy, burdened, full-body cough Owen had been struggling with for so long now. Scott could see flecks of hot sauce get sucked in from the edges of Owen’s lips, and full splatters of reddish-orange peppered the walls as the air was forced back out. He was gripping his throat again, but it wasn’t the desperate, clawing grasp from before. 

With each cough, more and more blackened bits came tumbling from his mouth. With each cough, his chest expanded more and more. He managed to pull in more air. Let out more ragged breaths. 

Bek and El’s grips on Scott’s shoulders tightened when Owen collapsed down onto his knees, shoulders stooped, and his stomach heaved. Scott didn’t react. Only watch. He had been around Owen’s vomiting spells longer than the two girls. He watched the puddle of bile and fleshy lumps that spread across the floor with cold recognition. 

The chunks of what he now recognized to be mushroom pieces bubbled and boiled in the puddle, withering away amidst the swirls of undigested orange hot sauce. 

Owen heaved again. And heaved. He kept going until there was nothing left, and even then he dry-heaved once or twice before he fell back into a weak cough. It was an exhausted cough. One that barely even managed to shake the rat’s shoulders. One that made his elbows waver as he tried to hold himself up off the messy floor. A few more flecks of orange and teal fell from his lips. 

The coughing stopped. 

It felt like an eternity passed in the time Scott, El, and Bek sat there, watching Owen pant. They were holding their breath. Didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t react in any way, as if the moment was so jagged and sharp that any change might cause it to break. Or to break one of them. 

But if nobody broke the moment, than there was no way to know if it could be fixed.

“O-Owen?” Scott flinched as the sound of his own voice startled him. It cut through the quiet like a knife. He would have reached out to his friend. Risked that bit of movement, but Bek caught his wrist before he could go far.

Both she and El held him back. Their eyes were brimming with fear and concern, both emotions warring over what was best. Should they help Owen? Stay away from him? 

“Are you back to feeling like yourself?” Bek asked carefully.

Owen looked up. 

Orange, teal, orange, teal, orange, teal…

“I…” He took a deep breath. A small, tired smile pulled on the corners of his mouth as the flicker in his eyes finally guttered out. “I feel better…”

Thump!

Owen’s shaking arms finally gave out. He slumped down to the floor. Eyes fell closed. His body went still outside of the rise and fall of his chest.

And for the first time in a long time, Owen’s breathing sounded normal to Scott’s ears.

[blurryvxntage]

hi! i'd like to request a married life with sapnap headcanon please c: thank you!

this is fairly long because i did different things that are incorporated into everyday married life with him!

cw: suggestive themes, pet names

~

Doing Everything Together

Whenever Sapnap isn’t streaming he leaves his office door open so you can always come in. He even has a second chair in there that he bought for you.

You walk in his office and lounge your arms around his shoulders, watching what he was focused on. He leans back in his chair and looks up at you, giving you a quick kiss.

You pat his shoulders before standing up, “I’m gonna go to the store, do you need anything?”

He quickly spins in his chair as if he was shocked you would ever do anything without him. “Can I come?”

You laugh, “Of course. I just thought you were doing something.”

He quickly saves and closes out the program he had open.

When the two of you come back from the store he stands next to you the whole time you’re cooking.

Physical Touch Is The Love Language

You’ve been laying in your bed for half an hour, waiting for him to finish up on someone’s stream. When he finally came in he launched himself into the bed, landing on top of you.

You laughed, laying a hand to run across his back. His lips kissed up your neck to the curve of your jaw.

He pulled himself up to rest on his elbows, “I have to take a shower but I want to stay here with you.” He whined.

You flashed a fake pout at him, “Do you want me to come with you?”

He quickly nodded, dragging you out of the bed. He loved when you showered or took a bath with him. It didn’t even have to be sexual, he just lived for the skin-to-skin contact. He insisted on washing the shampoo out of your hair, his finger tips were gentle across your scalp making sure he got every last bubble.

The two of you got dressed together after, Sapnap helping pull your shirt over your head. You settled into bed, Sapnap lying on his back with you on his chest.

Having The Same Routine

Since marrying Sapnap you’ve adopted a lot of his mannerisms and vise versa. Your husband doesn’t have the most “normal” daily routine. He was often up late working on things or streaming at absurd hours.

It was the middle of the night and you were up watching some random television show. Sapnap was up in his office streaming for his thousands of fans. You knew his friends were probably up with him too, all having horrible sleep schedules.

The click of his office door opening and closing told you he was done. He walked in your room, pulling his hat and sweatshirt off to make himself comfortable.

“I thought you’d be asleep..” He smiled before laying down next to you.

You turned on your side to face him. “Not really tired.. I wanted to wait for you to come to bed anyway.”

He shuffled closer to kiss you. “Sorry I stayed up so late and made you stay awake.”

“It’s okay, love. I don’t mind it.” You gave him a smile before moving to wrap your arms around his waist.

“I love you..” He said, moving in to kiss you again.

“I love you too.”

Constant Affection & Love

You stood infront of the fridge, looking for anything that struck your fancy. You were hungry but you weren’t in the mood or cooking and snacks didn’t sound good.

Sapnap walked up behind you, placing a hand on your lower back and a kiss on your cheek. “What are you doing?”

You sighed, leaning over to hug him. “I’m hungry but I don’t want to cook..”

Sapnap peered in the fridge to assess the food you had, “Do you want me to cook for you?”

You looked up at him with the hopeful sparkle that he loved so much. “Would you?”

He nodded before moving away to get started on a meal for you. “Anything for you my darling.”

He stayed true to his word and made you whatever food you requested. You were now sitting on the couch, your legs were thrown over his lap so he could give you a foot massage. Even if he wasn’t fully paying attention, his hands were always soft and careful when it came to you. He always made sure he never hurt you, even in the slightest.

“You’re a great husband, you know that?” You spoke out.

He turned his head away from the television with a soft smile on his face. “Thank you but you make it easy. Not hard being married to you.”

The rest of the night went on with Sapnap telling you how beautiful he found you and how he was so lucky to have you. He loved when your face blushed after he gave you a compliment.

[tiny-raccoon-hands]

Tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing (Even though we know it isn't true) prt. 2

The closer mandatory leave got, the more Johnny seemed to retreat into himself. Zoning out of conversations frequently, sheepishly asking for things to be repeated once again as he laughed and apologized. He always gave some random excuse, each one different than the last. This strange behavior was consistent enough that people were beginning to notice.On one occasion, Ghost had watched Gaz pull Johnny aside, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

They had spoken in voices so soft that it was impossible to know what was said, Johnny had squeezed Gaz's shoulder and laughed in a way that made it feel like someone was dragging a cheese grater against Ghost's heart with how fake it sounded.He expected Gaz to push, to not be fooled by the act Johnny was performing, yet he didn't seem to notice anything wrong with whatever answer Johnny gave him. It frustrated Ghost, because damn it! Why didn't anyone see what he saw? How was everyone so blind to the pain that Johnny was so obviously going through?!Ghost had seen the way Johnny's hands would clench and unclench whenever someone mentioned going back home to their families.

How he had been open to answering questions about his family but had dodged questions about his mother. How every detail about her had been short and to the point whenever someone asked.It all came to a boiling point when it reached late afternoon, Ghost had been heading to his room when he heard Johnny's voice rising in volume from the kitchen. A part of Ghost wanted to ignore it, it wasn't his business and it wasn't in his nature to eavesdrop. Yet the distressed tone that was beginning to seep into Johnny's voice scratched at the back of Ghost's brain unpleasantly.

It was a losing battle, he found himself subconsciously heading towards the commotion before he really made a decision. A quick glance inside told him that Johnny was on the phone with someone who seemed to be screaming into the receiver, judging on how far away Johnny held the phone from his ear. His usually carefree and happy expression was twisted into something cold and empty,"I'm still going to visit, nothings changed....", Johnny had said in response once the screaming stopped.

Apparently what he said was a mistake because whatever was said next made Johnny's eyebrows furrow with hurt and anger, "M'not in charge of that! Yer always making it seem like it's my fault!"More shouting greeted him and Johnny's face fell, blue eyes dimmed, almost like the light was forcefully snuffed out, "I never said that...", He reached up and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, "A disappointment?", He nodded, "I knew ye were gonna say that.", He pulled his hand away and took a deep breath, listening to a long tangent the person on the other line launched into.

Finally Johnny sighed, "Look, I hav'ta go.... Mm.... Alright bye mum.... Ye I... Luv ye too...", With that Johnny put his phone down and buried his face into his arms. It was then that Ghost had decided that he had enough, moving into the kitchen, he made his presence known. Johnny's head shot up in alarm, red rimmed blue eyes wide with shock.

[i-didnt-do-1t]

As it is my birthday may I please request some writing of Elmer having a happy birthday? 🥺👉👈

Happy belated birthday!! I hope you had the best day and the best year to come!! 🎉❤️

“Elmer you gotta close your eyes.”

“Do I?”

“Unless you wanna ruin the surprise.”

“Maybe I do. Maybe I hate surprises, like Finch does.”

JoJo sighed, deep and long suffering. “Okay. I ain’t sure that’s true though, So. Eyes closed.”

“Fine.” JoJo wasn’t sure he’d ever seen someone blink with as much force as Elmer did in that moment but he respected the way his face scrunched up as he closed his eyes and kept them that way. “But I ain’t gonna be happy about it.”

JoJo grinned now that Elmer couldn’t see him. “Trust me, you will be.”

He planted two hands on each shoulder and began to steer him toward the doorway of the bunkroom he’d been kicked out off earlier that morning under the guise of JoJo demanding that they go out for some lemonade.

Ten minutes ago, they’d run into Albert at the diner, and that meant that the decorating was done.

Meant that it was time to redirect Elmer back to the lodging house.

“JoJo?”

“Mhm?”

“It smells like cake.”

JoJo’s gaze landed on the cake that was definitely not sitting in the middle of the bunk room.

“No it doesn’t.”

“Maybe I’s just making things up.”

“Well.” JoJo said, and paused. “That brain a’ yours.”

“Exactly. It wishes it had cake.” He paused, and stood there silently for a moment, face scrunched up, eyes squinted shut. JoJo had to admit, maybe a little dumb looking.

“Hey Jo? Can I open my eyes now?”

JoJo leant up on his top toes to see over his shoulder and take in the crowd of newsies lined along the room in a semi circle, Albert in the far corner who waved at them. Each one grinning, and jostling each other to be quiet.

“Yeah.” JoJo said, “count to three and you can open your eyes.”

“You sure he can count that high?”

And Elmer didn’t count, his eyes snapped open, fully prepared to launch himself at whoever said that (and probably lose the ensuing fight) - but he stopped short as he took in the room.

It wasn’t anything particularly fancy, but they did their best with what they had. The lodging room was decked out with hand made bunting, all triangles of articles of old newspapers they never sold back and on a plate, on a stool, in the middle of the room sat a small, chocolate, cake, the top lathered in icing and the whole thing tilted vaguely to the left.

“You fellas?-“

It was like they practised it with how in sync it was, but the ‘happy birthday’ yelled back at him was loud and followed immediately by them all whooping and yelling, a couple of them coming up to Elmer and slapping him or shouldering him or ruffling his hair-

“Sarah made the cake.” Ultimately it was Jack’s voice that broke through the instant round of talking and cheering. “And we all kinda helped with the newspapers but that was mostly Buttons and Splasher.”

Elmer’s smile hurt his cheeks, and if his eyes were wet, they weren’t (JoJo wouldn’t mention it.) “Yous’ did all this for me?”

“Course’ we did!” It was Jack’s turn to reach and ruffle his hair. “Couldn’t let you turn 13 without a party.”

This time Elmer was successful as he launched himself forward, both arms wrapped solidly around Jack’s torso as he laughed and hugged him back just as tightly, swaying slightly.

“Happy birthday kid. You deserve it.”

Elmer’s next words were spoken into Jack’s shoulder but JoJo could just about make them out. “You guys are the best, y’know that.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Shut up.”

Jack rolled his eyes something fond and soft in them and then met gazes with JoJo, and his mouth curled up again as he clapped his hand on Elmer’s shoulder pulling him back a little.

“You wanna go ask Kenny to cut the cake? I ain’t sure where he got the knife but I just ain’t thinking ‘bout it too hard. And then a coupla the boys has got presents for after.”

Elmer’s eyes were circles. “For me?”

“You see it bein’ anyone else’s birthday.”

Elmer grinned at Jack before he turned round to grin at JoJo and grabbed his shoulder shaking him a little as he led him of toward Kenny, being pulled into a multitude of hugs and headlocks along the way.

[firelord-frowny]

YIKES lmaooo accidentally made myself cryyyyy re-reading this bit of fanfiction i have no recollection of writinggggg omfg.

tbh i feel like this is worth the read even if you dont give a fraction of a flying fuck about fanfic or about assassins creed lmao bc like. its a very expressive and eloquent exploration of how hard it is to see yourself through the eyes of someone who loves you when you fucking hate yourself 🙃

“My body, it… it’s so weak. And soft. I’m not strong enough to fight anyone. I’m not fast enough to run away.” 

“Your mind is just as effective a self-defense tool as any sword or shield.” 

“Is it, though?” 

“You’re here. You’ve survived things that many people wouldn’t have.” 

“That is true. But what I’ve had to give up? The things I’ve had to let happen to me? A man invites himself unto my body. And I don’t want him there. But I can’t stop him. At the end of it, I’m uninjured. But not because I fought him off. I’m uninjured because I negotiated. Because I figured out what he wanted most out of me. And I handed it over. So he wouldn’t have to hurt me in order to steal it. I get robbed all the time. But I don’t lose my most prized items because I’ve learned how to hide them. Or disguise them. Or convince my assailants that my less expensive belongings are worth more than they really are. I never win anything, Alexios. I’m never saved by my intellect. And you should know what I’m talking about, because you are exactly the kind of person who relishes in finding a mark like me. One who is so painfully aware of their own shortcomings that they don’t even try to put up a fight. I survive. I don’t triumph. And if my body were strong, then maybe I could triumph. Someday. In some way.” 

“Not everyone can be… strong, or fast. And not everyone can be brilliant. I think if I had a mind like yours, then… I would probably have become someone I could be a lot more proud of than I am. You think having to use wit instead of force to protect yourself is a weakness, but what I wouldn’t give to know how to end a conflict without resorting to extreme violence. I’m not saying that it doesn’t make sense for you to feel how you do. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that kind of helplessness. I’m just saying that the way you are… the body that you have… there is nothing wrong with you. You are beautiful. And worthy, and powerful in your own right. You, exactly the way you are, have a valuable place in the world. Especially my world. I need you. The version of you that sits before me right now. That’s what I need.” 

“I don’t understand. I can’t do anything for you.” 

He looked at me for a long time. The calculating look. The one he gets when he’s examining a rockface he’s never climbed before. Looking for footholds and handholds. Scoping out the most efficient rout. Or, perhaps, the look he gets when he’s gauging just how fast he needs to run to clear the jump from one plateau to another. Estimating how much strength he’ll need to conserve to reach the top of a mountain. The only difference between Alexios and a mathematician is that Alexios never actually deals with numbers. But he calculates all the same. He solves equations in a glance that a polymath would need an abacus for. Perhaps he can’t tell you in numbers exactly how far away one handhold is from the next, but he’ll launch himself the precise distance, nonetheless. And it’s because of that look in his eyes that I know that the next words he said to me would be thoroughly considered and thoughtful. 

We’ve been this close, and closer, thousands of times by now. But this time felt brand new. Breathtaking. Absolutely ethereal. 

His hands slid to rest on my outer thighs, pressing gently so the contact between my inner thighs and his hips was solid. Then he held me by my waist, traveling again to the small of my back, then up higher, moving slow and reverent. 

Then he told me, “I wish I had your gift for words so I could tell you what this feels like for me.” 

I said, “Just close your eyes and speak.” 

I closed my eyes, too, and then after a moment, I heard him sigh. Then he speaks. Quiet, low, and slow.

“This… is the softest place I’ve ever been in my life. As long as I can remember, everything around me has been… sharp. Serrated. Hard. Rough. I’m smashing metal against metal. Bone against stone. I’m cutting, or being cut. I only touch people to hurt them. The most soothing thing I ever feel is someone else’s blood warming my skin. But now I’m here. Between your thighs. And the way your body ‘gives’ under my touch… you don’t even have to hold me to embrace me. You’re so. Soft. And all I have to do to be surrounded by you is touch you. All I have to do is touch you, and now everything jagged in me gets to know what it feels like to be smoothe. I’ve always been so angry about my life. Resentful. Suffering for no good reason. But now I come home to you, and lay beside you and all I can do is thank the Gods for everything I’ve ever been through that turned me into someone who can keep a soft, precious thing like you safe.”

Oh. 

One day, someday, maybe it will stop surprising me every time Alexios takes my breath away. Maybe I’ll stop being caught off guard every time he finds a new way to tell me he loves me. 

Then he said, “I wish you could appreciate the balance. Appreciate that maybe, in some way, people like you and me are made for each other. Who you are brings such wonderful meaning to who I am and what I’ve been through. I wish who I am could bring similar meaning to you. I wish you could love the things about yourself that are so precious to me.” 

I think I left my body in that moment. Sitting there in front of Alexios. In front of this man made of solid audacity and nerve, smelted and forged. I couldn’t remain in my body if I was to stand a chance at fathoming how the words he just said could be said about me by anyone at all, let alone him. 

I know I left my body because when I heard him finally say, “Why are you shaking?” I didn’t know why he’d ask such a thing. But I looked down at my hands, and yes, they were trembling. And I felt myself slam back into my corporeal form - heavy, and unsteady, like an earthquake. 

Indeed, I think I was shaking because my whole world had just been rattled. My entire self-concept, shifted like a fault line. That there should be any use for the utter desolation I’ve suffered through? That all the things I hate most about myself could bring any meaning at all to another person’s suffering? I was shaking with the exertion of struggling to hold my understanding together. But when I answered him, all I said was, “I’m sorry.” 

He held both of my hands.”You’re sorry? What for? What did I say that made you think you should be sorry?” 

The grief in my throat was so thick, I could barely speak. But I forced the words out: “I’m letting you down.” And right around this moment was when tears overwhelmed my eyelids. And I think I could hear Alexios’s heart shattering.

He gasped a little and then said, “What? By the Gods, no, no. That’s not it at all. Never.” He let go of my hands, but only to slide his arms the rest of the way around me. I felt his lips on my forehead, and then my ear against his chest. He held me just like he did that very first time. It took my breath away then, and it still takes my breath away now. “I don’t ever want you to believe anything other than that I’m so, so proud of you. Proud to be with you. Honored that you’ll even look at me. I didn’t say all those things in criticism. I said them to try to help you see how much you mean to me.” 

That only broke me even more. And racked me with even more guilt. I didn’t want to disappoint him more by apologizing again, so I didn’t. Not out loud, anyway. In my head, I was pleading. Praying. I’m sorry your love is wasted on me. 

Then he looked down at me and said, “...But you can’t, can you? You really… you honestly just can’t.” 

He pulled me in close again, gently swaying, rocking. And I heard him say, “I’m so, so sorry for what’s been taken from you.

[quiet-girl-short-stories]

Fireworks!

If only I could damn fireworks to hell, I'd be a much happier person. These things are annoying and they scare the shit out of me, especially since they're so loud!

Cassie thought this while she held her arms while walking to the place where they were going to be commercially setting off fireworks for... honestly anything.

She had found the area and just stood there thinking about where the hell was the person who invited her here. She kept looking around for him thinking maybe he was late or something, but she really didn't know what to think.

Terumichi was the person who said this was something he wanted to do, I feel bad declining him especially since he works so much.

Cassie sighed and once more gave the area another look around, that's when she noticed someone with a black hat walking towards her.

"Cassie." This person said in a harsh whisper. He got to her and pulled his mask down to reveal himself as Terumichi. "Sorry I'm late. Everyone else in the group was also going out tonight so I was the last to get to everything."

Cassie shook her head. "It's fine, the fireworks haven't even started yet."

"Yeah, we should go and find a good spot to see them at."

It better not be a secluded part of a riverbank.

Cassie walked with him to this better spot and Terumichi took her to a part of a bridge with a rest point. There were only a few other people and the most of them were couples, so they weren't going to be disturbed in anyway.

However, Cassie sat down anxiously awaiting the first firework. Terumichi made aimless commentary, which went over Cassie's head as she tried to think about anything but the fireworks. Then in the middle of something he was saying Cassie heard the first one being launched.

"They're starting!" Terumichi said.

Cassie said nothing and as the first few went off she could barely enjoy herself, as each one caused her to flinch. Her ears were beginning to ring at the noise and she thought to plug her ears, but Terumichi would likely think something more serious was going on.

This can't get any worse!

"Cassie?" When the fireworks had stopped for a bit, Terumichi spoke to her.

"Y-yeah?"

"Are you okay? You keep shaking, it's not cold is it?"

"No, I'm just-" As she was talking another firework went off and it was so loud causing Cassie to flinch violently.

"Shit," Terumichi said, moving a bit closer to her.

"I-I'm fine really."

Terumichi ignored her words and gave her a small side hug, he put one of his hands over her ear and tried to talk over the fireworks.

"You must not like fireworks huh?" At her silence, Terumichi took that as an answer and spoke with a chuckle in his voice. "Why didn't you say something? I wouldn't have asked you to this otherwise."

Because I feel bad that you don't do anything but work most the time.

"I... just didn't want to turn you down."

Terumichi chuckled and moved back, the fireworks were still going on, but Cassie was more focus on Terumichi's sent than anything else.

"Look, we can hang out and do anything else okay? We can even go right now."

"No!" She paused, "I know you like fireworks and I'm fine with seeing them, but not hearing them."

He gave her a sweet smile. "Aw, you're like a little puppy." He said with a chuckle, he then dug around in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his earbuds before putting them in Cassie's ear.

They worked to plug her ear for a bit, then she started to hear some soft music that took over everything.

She looked to Terumichi and spoke. "But now we can't talk."

He took one earbud out. "As long as we get to be together, we don't even have to talk." As he said that, a firework went off lighting up his face and Cassie could see the expression he was making.

It was more than apparent his words were true and as long as he was happy, Cassie could be too.

[txmefxll]

"Hold still..."

"I'll be alright, a little cut isn't gonna keep me down."

Embarrassment. That's what he felt. Shame perhaps being another whole thing crashing down on him. What was he embarrassed about you may ask? The train of events that had led to the moment where Yugi Muto was tending to his torn up hand, thankfully the one that lacked the damage he wanted to keep from anyone's gaze, a soft note escaping his throat as the other dabs the cloth over the still oozing wound., gentle if only not to spark perhaps more pain than he's already in. It was only a matter of time until the other caught on, afterall most of his subconscious actions didn't exactly hide it much as he did consciously.

He still can't believe he got owned by a fence. That being said he blames Joey. Definately. Not the fact he couldn't feel the sharp edge when he'd hauled himself up after the other in an attempt to stop him from getting into a brawl with someone taking off into an alley. Sure the dude hapd said words that wasn't even close to being true and antagonistic, he'd heard rumors about Joey's temper especially when it came to his friends, to see it in first view reminded him much of Jack and Crow when it came down to it. Especially when the dude had thrown some type of word he didn't recognize and Joey about popped a blood vessel and took off after the man in question, which meant climbing a large fence and landing in an obvious trap. So what had he done? Taken off after him and launched himself over the fence, almost falling over the other side since he'd ended up with a sudden sharp pain in his right palm.

The glove had hidden the damage until he'd gotten back to the game shop, where Yugi had freaked a bit at seeing the large amount of blood when Yusei had first attempted to take off the glove (which was now being thoroughly cleaned so it wasn't ruined and he'd apologized for it ). He was now being tended to since while it had needed some small stitches, it bled worse than it actually was. Though he didn't flinch, only ever slightly tensing as he shook his head, raven black bangs seeming intent on poking his eyes out at the moment, his still gloved hand brushing them out of his face ever slightly. He struggles to find something to say, all that comes out is a sigh.

"Sorry for the scare."

[sugar-stories]

Strange Bedfellows Chapter 3 preview: Oh God What Have I Done hours

“Oh, my Bernice! My sweet little Bernice! You’re so soft and nice,” said the thief, rubbing her face against the painted wooden sign that spelled out Pantyhose Taro Dojo. The sounds coming out of her mouth could only reasonably be described as baby talk. “And you’re so cute, so cute, so cute! Azusa wants to hold you like this forever and ever!”

Staring at the thief from atop his trusty swine, Eiko made a face that he hoped fully expressed his disgust. “Yeah, I dunno what her deal is, but we should definitely just make a new sign,” he said.

Pantyhose crossed his arms. “You coward,” he said.

Eiko whipped around faster than a tornado. “What did you just call me?!”

“I called you a coward,” Pantyhose said. “What kind of martial artist gives up before the fight even starts? Your enemy is right here in front of you—are you going to just turn around and go home?! You act tough, but the truth is you’re just making excuses so you can run away! You are pathetic.”

Eiko looked at his hands. His pupils dilated. “I..I’m not running away. I'm not. Am I?”

He curled his fingers into shivering fists. Pantyhose said nothing—he only twisted his mouth into a triumphant smile.

“Have…have I been acting like none of this matters and that I’m not interested because I’m just too scared to face the reality that I’m actually too weak to fight? Am I running away from my true enemy…? Or am I my true enemy?”

“She’s your enemy. By facing her, you can face yourself,” said Pantyhose. He pointed to the thief. It made sense in a roundabout sort of way as long as no one thought too hard about it.

Eiko stood up on top of his pig and shouted at the sky. “Yes! I will face my enemy!” he said. Piganosuke let out a mighty squeal of encouragement.

“Hey! Excuse me,” said the enemy in question. “Bernice and I would like to be alone. Go away.”

“Who the hell is Bernice?! I’ll kick her butt, too!” said Eiko. He puffed himself up to look intimidating.

“Yes! Threaten her! Make her cry!” said Pantyhose. He laughed like a maniac. Much to Piganosuke’s discomfort, Pantyhose joined Eiko in standing up on top of him.

The enemy pouted. “This is Bernice,” she said, pointing to the Pantyhose Taro Dojo sign she was cradling in her other arm. “And you can’t take her away from me!”

“I can, and I will! I’ll show everyone I’m not a coward!” Eiko said. He launched a jump kick off the top of Piganosuke, hoping to knock the sign loose. Instead, the sign came swooshing up to hit him in the face. He slid down it with all the grace of a glob of jelly falling off a plate. Then he hit the pavement.

The enemy cooed gently at the sign. “Oh, my poor, sweet Bernice! Did that icky bully hurt you?”

“I am not icky!” Eiko said. He sprang back to his feet, clutching a bump on his forehead. “And you’re the one who’s being a bully here! Haven’t you ever heard of picking on someone your own size?!”

The enemy wasn’t listening. “Oh, Bernice, Bernice! You belong to Azusa!”

“Stop ignoring me, lady! And who’s Azusa?!”

“Azusa is Azusa,” said Azusa.

Eiko tried to make sense of that. Then he wished he hadn’t.

“Ugh, my head hurts,” he said.

“Stop complaining and fight! If you can’t even finish her off, you’ve got no chance of defeating Ranma Saotome!”

Azusa blinked.

“Oh, did you hear that, Bernice? They want to defeat Ranma Saotome, too,” she said.

Eiko pointed at her. “Yeah, we do! We’re gonna make Ranma eat crow with a slice of humble pie for dessert! So you’d better watch out!”

Azusa giggled. “Hey, that sounds like fun. Can we come, too?”

“I dunno,” Eiko said. He turned back to Pantyhose Taro. “Can she come, too?”

Pantyhose Taro shrugged. “As long as she’s an enemy of Ranma’s, she can’t be our enemy, because Ranma is our enemy, which makes her our ally.”

“But then how am I supposed to defeat Ranma if I can’t defeat myself by defeating her?” asked Eiko, pointing to the woman in the polka dot dress. She was jumping up and down with the sign and laughing.

“Who cares,” said Pantyhose. “Just tell her to get on the pig.”